Thursday, January 16, 2020

Singing our tradition




Shuls used to be places where there was singing, where there was a regular professional or semi-professional hazzan, maybe a choir (formal or informal). Reading an article today calling for the introduction of singing in to the weekly Shabbat prayer services I was taken aback to see the writer suggesting writing special new tunes for these prayers, so that they may be sung, as though the problem is that we need to invent tunes.

There is so much beautiful nusah for the Shabbat davening that in the last few decades has been thrown away and abandoned, so much liturgical tradition that Ashkenazim in particular (but much less so Edot Mizrah) have dumped as "old fashioned", as though hazzanut and the niggunim of one's grandparents or great-grandparents is just a fad to throw out if one gets bored of it.

So much of the musical tradition of the Ashkenazi communities was already lost in the Shoah, and yet in recent decades many Ashkenazi communities have abandoned what was left. Even in the UK, a world centre for Ashkenazi hazzanut, most shuls have fired their hazzanim and scrapped their choirs. The music of the synagogue has gone quiet, replaced either with faster mumbled davening or catchy pop-Hassidic tunes to which the text must often be shoehorned, frequently without a connection to the liturgy or context. At the fringes there has been renewed interest in the melodies of the late Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach or Modzitz hassidic nigunim, but this is far from the mainstream of most modern Orthodox Ashkenazi shuls which have increasingly opted for a fast, mostly mumbled Shabbat morning and even Friday night service.

I understand that people became fed up with long, drawn-out old time Shabbat services. But today the pendulum has swung too much the other way. I see so many children (and many of their parents) feeling a disconnect with the mumbled Shabbat davening. Singing needs to be restored to the Shabbat service, but don't go looking for new music or writing new tunes, revive the many beautiful melodies from the traditional nusah that are in danger of being lost, research historic hazzanut and Hassidish melodies in danger of dying out. Go visit Merkaz Renanim at Heichal Shlomo for inspiration.

Does it occur to the writer that one of the reason people are inspired by the singing on the Yamim Noraim is that these old traditional niggunim and the traditional nusah take people back to memories of their childhoods? Of singing in shul with their parents and grandparents? Of reliving, however briefly, the sweetness of a world that is no longer and loved ones who have passed?

Perhaps Proust's madeleines have become a cliche, but this doesn't diminish from the truth of his observation. Childhood melodies, like childhood foods, have the ability to transport us, to rekindle a connection lost in the haze of time, to be a Tardis of memory.

As religious Jews we have a keen feel for the importance of this connection, a reverence for maintaining a link with our ancestors thousands of years ago who were slaves in Egypt, who stood at Mount Sinai and who witnessed the siege of ancient Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple. Our religion and culture incorporates ritual and special days to help inculcate these experiences so that generation after generation will have shared memories that tie us to our roots and the events that formed our nation.

Of course things change with the times. It may be an oxymoron but traditions can also change with time. That doesn't lessen the importance of trying to preserve them though, not just for the sake of conserving a key part of our culture, but because of the way they link us to our ancestors and keep alive that fleeting memory of our departed grandparents or give us an imagined shared experience with great-grandparents we never actually knew.

Judaism is ultimately a balancing act, a culture which reveres tradition, but which is also continuously evolving and creating new traditions. The grandeur of mid-twentieth century synagogue hazzanut is unlikely to make a return, the days of the hazzan and choir on a regular Shabbat seem to have passed from this world in all but a handful of synagogues around the world. It saddens me to see this beautiful art form mostly relegated to the concert hall like a relic, rather than kept alive as a working, breathing practice, but it seems that in today's world people lack the patience for it on a regular Friday night or Shabbat.

That doesn't mean though that all the traditional melodies should be thrown out of the regular Shabbat service. There will always be those that don't enjoy singing, but for many people singing the davening is what helped them learn the prayers as children and helped kids sit through the long service. Communal singing is what made women feel that they had a place in the Orthodox synagogue even if they were in the balcony or behind the mehitza. The music of shul has uplifted so many people, by highlighting the words of the davening, by creating a shared experience that a mumbled quick service cannot. It is high time that more shuls around the world, especially in Israel, included more singing in the Shabbat service for all of these reasons.

We don't need to invent new music though. Ashkenazi nusah contains a rich collection of melodies for all kinds of prayers. We have a duty to preserve that heritage, to return the liturgical songs of our grandparents and great-grandparents to its rightful place in the synagogue. To pass on that immense body of knowledge to our children and grandchildren instead of letting it die out.

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