Synagogue Music in the Modern
Era
Changes are taking place in the leadership,
participation, melodies, and instruments that are found in the synagogue.
By Marsha Bryan Edelman
In the following
article, the author offers an overview of the many changes that synagogue music
has undergone in recent decades. She intermingles the narrative with her own
views on the reasons for some trends, and some scholars might dispute some of
her conclusions. Excerpted with permission from Discovering Jewish Music (Jewish
Publication Society).
The period following World War II saw major demographic and
psychological changes in the American Jewish community. A new wave of
immigration brought the remnants of war-ravaged Europe to American shores and
closed the chapter on European leadership in Jewish music. Now it became
necessary for American Jews to produce their own musical leaders. The
seminaries that had been training rabbis since the late 19th century finally
established schools to train cantors as well. Hebrew Union College-Jewish
Institute of Religion opened its School of Sacred Music for cantors of the
Reform movement in 1948 [and originally was intended to train cantors of all
denominations]; the Jewish Theological Seminary started training Conservative
cantors in its Cantors Institute in 1952; and the Cantorial Training Institute
at Yeshiva University opened its doors to Orthodox cantors in 1954.
The graduates of these schools faced a Jewish community
different from what their predecessors had known. Returning soldiers eager to
resume their lives and start families led to the growth of suburbia and the
proliferation of synagogues outside major city centers. These new congregations
were started by young people with strong ideas about their role in the
synagogue service and eager to play an active part in determining their
spiritual destinies.
Difficult Transition
Unfortunately, the transition was not a smooth one. The
cantorial training schools were dominated by faculty who had trained with the
old European models. The 1954 reissuing of 25 volumes known as the Out-of-Print
Classics of Synagogue Music reaffirmed the role of music by Sulzer,
Lewandowski, and Naumbourg in the synagogue and the style of nusah [musical motifs]promulgated
by Gerovitsch and others of the 19th century. The "high church" style
of practice continued to dominate the training of Reform cantors, and the role
of the cantor as not just soloist, but also sole purveyor--and conservator--of
synagogue music in Conservative and Orthodox synagogues was pronounced from the
ivory towers of the cantorial schools.
But the congregants in the pews wanted to sing, too! A
second generation of Orthodox American Jews had already begun to establish
"Young Israel" synagogues, where shelihei tzibbur [prayer
leaders]taken from among the
many male congregants capable of leading regular Shabbat and weekday services
led their fellow worshipers in song, thereby replacing increasing numbers of
traditionally oriented (and some felt, domineering) hazzanim [cantors].
In the Conservative and Reform movements, young people
empowered by their affirmative experiences in denominationally affiliated
summer camps rejected the notion of trading their summertime active
participation for docile subservience to a cantor and choir back at their home
synagogues. The Conservative movement was the first to attempt a response. The
Cantors Assembly published Zamru Lo, a three-volume anthology of
"congregational tunes" designed to increase the participation of
worshipers in the synagogue service, while still maintaining the traditional nusah.
Composers Take Note
Composers also started considering the needs of congregants
when writing for the cantor and/or the choir. "Singable refrains"
allowed congregants to take an active role in at least part of a composition
chiefly scored for cantor and/or choir. Max Wohlberg (1907-1996) was singularly
successful at writing cantorial recitatives as well as longer settings that
remained faithful to traditional nusah while also providing an
opportunity for the congregation to sing.
The music of Chicago-based Max Janowski (1917-1991) had a
similar effect on the music of Reform synagogues. The Hasidic-style lilt of his
largely unison Yismehu is a favorite of many congregations; the unison
refrain of his moving Sim Shalom enables the congregation to take an
active role in its presentation; and his lyrical, strophic ve-Shomeru enables
the congregation to sing along with the melody, even as the choir intones its
lovely harmonies.
There were certainly composers who followed Janowski's example.
Canadian composers Srul Irving Glick (1939-2002) and Ben Steinberg (b. 1930)
were especially successful at writing music that welcomed congregational
participation. Inaddition, composers from Herbert Fromm (1905-1995), to
Samuel Adler (b. 1928), to Stephen Richards (b. 1935) have arranged well-known
composed melodies and mi-Sinai tunes for congregational singing.
Blurring the Boundary
The border between popular song literature and the music of
worship was effectively breached. A succession of popular American artists
began (or, like Debbie Friedman and a more musically sophisticated Michael
Isaacson, continued) to contribute music that was just as successful in the
synagogue on Saturday morning as it was in concert on Saturday night. Not
surprisingly, the Reform movement led the way in this more liberal musical
style. The guitars that dominated American folk and popular music were welcome
in many Reform synagogues and even replaced the organ as the instrument of
choice in congregations moving away from the decorous classical style of Sulzer
and Lewandowski to a more inviting and participatory "warm Reform"
service.
The Orthodox movement continued to eschew instrumental
accompaniment, but many congregations were equally active in adopting some more
contemporary sounds into their services. The Orthodox also borrowed tunes that
had been written originally for non-liturgical presentation but that inexorably
crept into synagogal use. The common preference among Orthodox synagogues to
utilize lay shelihei tzibbur (as opposed to seminary-trained hazzanim) also
contributed to the random utilization of contrafacted melodies from among
popular Israeli and American songs.
The Conservative movement lagged somewhat behind the popular
tendency to insert contemporary songs and styles into the liturgy. The
sanctuaries where adults worshiped tended to hold fast to a traditional body of
music taught to cantorial students at the movement's Jewish Theological
Seminary and/or gathered in Zamru Lo. Members of the movement's United
Synagogue Youth groups and campers and staff at Conservative Ramah Camps
eagerly adopted popular tunes into their own youth services, but the hegemony
of the Conservative cantorate rejected these innovations as "camp
songs." Moreover, the music of Israel was embraced in settings throughout
the Conservative community: Ramah summer camps, Solomon Schechter Day Schools,
adult education programs, and beyond. That broad and seemingly never-ending
font of new material was largely a distraction from and a disincentive to the
creation of new music from within the movement's ranks.
Implied pressure placed on Conservative cantors by the
popularity of "alternative" music being utilized among youth groups
and in havurot (often breakaways from the more traditional services
conducted in Conservative synagogues) led to a gradual willingness of
Conservative cantors and their congregations to experiment with the music of
the synagogue. Some Conservative synagogues installed organs in their
sanctuaries and occasionally used other instruments as well. The ordination of
female cantors in 1987 brought dramatically new voices to the Conservative
synagogue, and many of these women, whose presence itself represented a major
change, were more inclined to welcome innovation into the service.
The B'nai Jeshurun Phenomenon
The real watershed in congregational singing came, though,
with the success of one Conservative synagogue on New York's Upper West Side.
B'nai Jeshurun, or "BJ" as it is affectionately known to its members
(and derogatorily scorned by its detractors), gained wide-spread popular appeal
during the tenure of Rabbi Michael Meyer (1985-1993) and continues now under
the leadership of Rabbi Marcelo Bronstein, Rabbi J. Rolando Matalon, and Hazzan
Ari Priven. It attracted hundreds of worshipers to regular services when it
began adopting a family-friendly attitude and a repertoire of reverent but
upbeat, new melodies (as well as "refurbished" versions of older
tunes) that welcomed and embraced the Sabbath with fervent singing.
The contrast between the numbers of BJ attendees
over-flowing onto Manhattan's sidewalks and the number of empty pews in most
other "mainstream" Conservative synagogues was directly attributed to
B'nai Jeshurun's music. Demand from within and outside the congregation
inspired the synagogue's leadership to record its melodies as teaching tools
and as models for others to follow.
As the 21st century dawns, the future course of American
synagogue music is not clear. Some traditionalists may decry the continuing
preference for community singing--of any kind of music--over the preservation
of nusahas the final "nail in the coffin" of Jewish musical
continuity. For many, the "usurpation" of the role of cantor/ hazzanby bar mitzvah celebrants and lay precentors appears to signal an ironic
return to the anarchy of the early nineteenth century and a tragic surrendering
of musical and professional ritual standards.
Others may applaud the enfranchisement of the congregation
as an appropriate response to every Jew's search for an active, participatory
role in the synagogue. They may see the decline in choral singing as a victory
for the community and herald the embrace of contemporary music as an inevitable
and historically consistent response to a new era and the cultural heritage of
its majority.
Marsha Bryan Edelman
is Professor of Music and Education at Gratz College. She also serves as
Director of the Tyson Music Department and coordinates the college's academic
programs in Jewish music.
Copyright 2003 by
Marsha Bryan Edelman