It's khol ha'moyed sukkes, the intermediate days of the 8 day festival of sukkes/sukkot. You know, you sit in a hut (sukke) and eat; shake a festive blend of biblical plants; go apple picking if you're Brooklyn Hasidish. To be perfectly honest, I haven't done any of those things yet, especially the apple picking.
Which is all to say that I'm not really having the best sukkes ever. Though it is kinda cinematic. Picture this: my brother and I on a road trip in a rattling cargo van tricked out with hand cranked windows and functioning FM radio. Our destination: a small city 5 hours away where our mom (OBM) was living when she passed away in 2007. Our mission: to clear out a storage locker stuffed with her pesakh dishes, my first grade notebooks and my brother's comic book collection. The drama: tears are shed, teddy bears tossed, parental approval hoped for.
As we walked away from the storage space, I thought of the stories you hear sometimes about people living in storage lockers. Even if you could get enough oxygen inside, the storage space seems too close to being buried alive. Wouldn't it be better to take your chances on the street or a park bench? I don't know. Thank god, I've never been in the position to have to make that kind of decision.
My own take-away from this trip is that home is what you make it, from moment to moment. And no one is entitled to an attic or basement or even just a small holding space for a teddy bear and a journal or 15. You've probably realized this if your parents have moved from what you consider to be your childhood home. Home isn't storage space for your stuff, no matter how long you've had it. As wonderful (or horrible) as it is, or how much love is there, home is contingent. It's got a life span, just like those imperfect folks hanging the drapes. Be in the moment because the moment will soon enough be over.
There's no more perfect symbol of this than the sukke. It's handmade (slow home movement, anyone?) so you are present at its birth. With its incomplete roof, the sukke epitomizes built-in obsolescence. And maybe best of all, it has no encumbrances above or below. Don't even think about storing your comic books in a sukke, son.
I was taken by the contrast between the concrete cells of the storage units and the brittle fragility of the sukke. You can't really settle into either of them. Both are peculiar abstractions of domesticity. Stage instructions. Teddy bears and photos and good china- these are props. Home is something more- a lived experience animated for a time by the people inside.
Homes come and go. But they never really go away. As with history, our homes have made us who we are, sheltered and shaped us. Which brings me to a cool new website I want to share with you. The World Monuments Fund has created a new interactive map which takes you on an interactive journey through Hasidic Poland. It's called "The Chassidic Route: An Exploration of Jewish Heritage In Southeast Poland." It gives you pictures of Jewish landmarks in cities along the route, the landmarks' current use, and statistics on Jewish population of that city. The starting point for the route is Zamość If you want to learn more about any of the cities along the way, I recommend starting with a resource like the YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe. Consider it a khol ha'moyed adventure.
Rootless Cosmopolitan
Monday, September 23, 2013
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
A Ghost of Yiddish Revivals Past
I just discovered an interesting magazine called Jewish Quarterly.
I'd never even heard of the Jewish Quarterly until today, and now I'm wishing they'd put the entire archive on-line. I was flipping through issues from 1958 and found a ton of Yiddish poetry in translation, literary criticism and other socio-cultural pieces of interest.
Of particular interest was a 1958 article by A.A. Roback called 'Conference on Yiddish Studies.' In it he reports on a Yiddish Studies conference convened at Columbia University in honor of the 50th anniversary of the 1908 Czernowitz Conference.
Roback's two page report on the conference could've been written yesterday, save for the fact that in 1958 the last living attendee at the Czernowitz conference was still around and the second to last (Sholem Asch) has passed on a few months back.
In order to counter what Roback saw as pessimism around the future of Yiddish, he frames the conference in terms of its resurgence:
In other words, revival renaissance huzzah!
Sigh.
So, rather than speaking of revivals and such, maybe we'd be better off talking about a slow, inexorable progress in the growth of academic Yiddish infrastructure, even as the number of non-Hasidic, native Yiddish speakers in the United States drops rapidly.
At the end of Roback's review of the conference (in which he laments the infelicitous scheduling of papers, poor coordination of similarly themed presentations and lack of press coverage), he mentions a paper by Judah Joffe called "Metanalysis in Yiddish:
Sigh.
Well, Dr. Joffe lived to see part of the four volumes of Alef published of his Groyser Verterbukh fun der Yiddisher Shprakh. I wonder if I will live long enough to see the rest of the Groyser Verterbukh published.
Though time, politics and history ain't exactly on the side of Yiddish, Roback closes his article with a hopeful note and a good reminder to all of us:
This has never been more true than today. I know too many organizations which flounder because the people who should be researching, performing and leading are also responsible for publicity, fund raising and event clean up. There's never been more work to be done for American Yiddish. We have the people who can do it. What we also need is recognition of the importance of that work and the funds, and skilled support, to actually get it done.
.
Published in London since 1953, The Jewish Quarterly is one of the foremost Jewish literary and cultural journals in the English language. Its spectrum of subjects includes art, criticism, fiction, film, history, Judaism, literature, poetry, philosophy, politics, theatre, the Holocaust and Zionism.
I'd never even heard of the Jewish Quarterly until today, and now I'm wishing they'd put the entire archive on-line. I was flipping through issues from 1958 and found a ton of Yiddish poetry in translation, literary criticism and other socio-cultural pieces of interest.
Of particular interest was a 1958 article by A.A. Roback called 'Conference on Yiddish Studies.' In it he reports on a Yiddish Studies conference convened at Columbia University in honor of the 50th anniversary of the 1908 Czernowitz Conference.
Roback's two page report on the conference could've been written yesterday, save for the fact that in 1958 the last living attendee at the Czernowitz conference was still around and the second to last (Sholem Asch) has passed on a few months back.
In order to counter what Roback saw as pessimism around the future of Yiddish, he frames the conference in terms of its resurgence:
The conference itself provided one more proof, if proof were needed, that my hopes for the growth and consolidation of Yiddish are not a figment of the imagination, as some of my readers and critics seem to have made up their minds it was.
In other words, revival renaissance huzzah!
Sigh.
Of course, we could not insure ourselves against the coming of Hitler, or of Stalin, nor for that matter against the immigration restrictions in our own country. But therein exactly lies the miracle: that despite the holocaust we still have a growing literature in a language that gains in appreciation from year to year. If this appreciation will be coupled with other constructive efforts, it will achieve practical results, for the younger generation will discover new values in, and through, the Yiddish language. [emphasis mine]Ah yes, the always elusive 'constructive efforts.' It would be another ten years before the first session of the Uriel Weinreich Program in Yiddish Language, Literature and Culture would be held by YIVO. Not for lack of interest, but because rarely in modern American history has Yiddish scholarship been seen as valuable or even instrumental in terms of promoting American Jewish identity. And yet! Though it's fought for funding, not only has the YIVO zumer program always been fully subscribed by eager students, it has spawned imitators all over the world to meet demand for high quality Yiddish pedagogy.
So, rather than speaking of revivals and such, maybe we'd be better off talking about a slow, inexorable progress in the growth of academic Yiddish infrastructure, even as the number of non-Hasidic, native Yiddish speakers in the United States drops rapidly.
At the end of Roback's review of the conference (in which he laments the infelicitous scheduling of papers, poor coordination of similarly themed presentations and lack of press coverage), he mentions a paper by Judah Joffe called "Metanalysis in Yiddish:
The Dean of Yiddish philology is still very active as the co-editor of the definitive Yiddish dictionary. Let us hope that he will live to see several volumes of this Dictionary in print.
Sigh.
Well, Dr. Joffe lived to see part of the four volumes of Alef published of his Groyser Verterbukh fun der Yiddisher Shprakh. I wonder if I will live long enough to see the rest of the Groyser Verterbukh published.
Though time, politics and history ain't exactly on the side of Yiddish, Roback closes his article with a hopeful note and a good reminder to all of us:
... the conference proved once more that with an efficient organization a great deal can be achieved. Good intentions are not enough. It took more than two years to prepare the conference.... If we had efficient organizers, not just writers or scholars but enterprising and dynamic men, Jewish culture would soon acquire a new look. The Conference on Yiddish Studies was a good beginning and could serve as a model for other cultural ventures."
This has never been more true than today. I know too many organizations which flounder because the people who should be researching, performing and leading are also responsible for publicity, fund raising and event clean up. There's never been more work to be done for American Yiddish. We have the people who can do it. What we also need is recognition of the importance of that work and the funds, and skilled support, to actually get it done.
.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Live Jewish Music Every Tuesday Coming to the Upper West Side this Fall
I'm still sad about the demise of the East Sixth Street Klezmer Industrial Complex. For a moment, the basement of the shul on East Sixth Street was the address for world class Jewish art. If you came early you could drop in on some Jewish learning and if you stayed late (and were a Jewish male) you'd probably be drafted into maariv minyan. And if you wanted a drink, the bar was only a few feet away from anywhere in the room. In short, it was the kind of Jewish space funders should be tripping over themselves to fund. And yet...
Happily, the spirit of East Sixth Street has undergone a gilgul hanfefesh (transmigration of the soul) and headed uptown, to the Stephen Wise Free Synagogue on W. 68th Street. Drummer Aaron Alexander is curating a new series this fall and it looks amazing. Despite its lack of proximity to Indian food (and the general suburban wasteland that is the west 60s), Tuesdays at Stephen Wise will obviously be a must-see/must-hear for this fall.
Mike Cohen Band
Roger Davidson & Frank London
Klezmerfest – Greg Wall’s Birthday Bash (traditional NY style klezmer and a birthday salute to series co-founder)
CTMD Tantshoyz – Yiddish Dance Party! Featuring dance master Steve Weintraub.
Eleanor Reissa & Friends (w/Frank London)
Breslov Bar Band
Lorin Sklamberg - A Hanukkah/Thanksgiving Celebration
CTMD Tantshoyz – Yiddish Dance Party! Featuring dance master Avia Moore
Mike & Joanna Sternberg in Tribute to their Uncle the great Moyshe Oysher
Joel Rubin All-Stars
Happily, the spirit of East Sixth Street has undergone a gilgul hanfefesh (transmigration of the soul) and headed uptown, to the Stephen Wise Free Synagogue on W. 68th Street. Drummer Aaron Alexander is curating a new series this fall and it looks amazing. Despite its lack of proximity to Indian food (and the general suburban wasteland that is the west 60s), Tuesdays at Stephen Wise will obviously be a must-see/must-hear for this fall.
Tuesday Night Jewish Music Series at the Stephen Wise Free Synaogue Fall 2013
All Concerts begin at 7:30pm; $15. Jam sessions afterward. Klezmer Instrumental Music 5:30pm; $25 per class. Full night pass – $35 (includes class, concert & jam session)
October 1
Opening Night Tantshoyz, Yiddish Dance Party featuring dance master Walter Zev Feldman, with the Jake Shulman-Ment/Christina Crowder Band.October 8
Ezekiel’s WheelsOctober 15
Mike Cohen Band
October 22
Roger Davidson & Frank London
October 29
Klezmerfest – Greg Wall’s Birthday Bash (traditional NY style klezmer and a birthday salute to series co-founder)
November 5
CTMD Tantshoyz – Yiddish Dance Party! Featuring dance master Steve Weintraub.
November 12
Eleanor Reissa & Friends (w/Frank London)
November 19
Breslov Bar Band
November 26
Lorin Sklamberg - A Hanukkah/Thanksgiving Celebration
December 3
CTMD Tantshoyz – Yiddish Dance Party! Featuring dance master Avia Moore
December 12
Mike & Joanna Sternberg in Tribute to their Uncle the great Moyshe Oysher
December 17
Joel Rubin All-Stars
Friday, September 13, 2013
But What About That.... Ummmm ... Other Language That's Not Yiddish???
You listen to Leonard Lopate on WNYC, right? (I'm not even going to ask if you've donated to WNYC this year because I assume you have.) He has a regular Friday feature called Please Explain.
Sometimes it's whales, sometimes it's sleep apnea, and today at 1 pm, it's everyone's favorite pidgin creole language of lurve, Yiddish.
And following an unwritten rule applying to every public discussion about Yiddish, THIS was the first question on the show page:
לאל
I can't tell you how many times I've heard this 'question' asked after a lecture at YIVO. No matter that the discussion was about Bundist contraception clinics in inter-war Poland. Nope, the most burning question for a certain type of audience member is always "What about Ladino?????" (To which I silently scream "Ladi-NOOOOOOOO....")
Maybe they took a wrong turn and meant to go to the lecture at the American Sephardi Federation? I dunno. If you're one of the What About Ladino Kvetchers (WALKs) please explain (hah!) in the comments.
And tune in today at 1:20 pm, or listen after the fact when the show is archived.
In Please Explain, we set aside time every Friday afternoon to get to the bottom of one complex issue. We'll back up and review the basic facts and principles of complicated issues across a broad range of topics — history, politics, science, you name it
Sometimes it's whales, sometimes it's sleep apnea, and today at 1 pm, it's everyone's favorite pidgin creole language of lurve, Yiddish.
Chutzpah, glitch, klutz, schlep, and tchotchke are all Yiddish words that have entered into everyday usage. On this week’s Please Explain, we’ll find out all about the Yiddish language—where it comes from, how it’s influenced our culture, and its resurgence. We’re joined by Jonathan Brent, Executive Director at YIVO Institute For Jewish Research, and Eddy Portnoy, Academic Advisor at YIVO Institute For Jewish Research.
And following an unwritten rule applying to every public discussion about Yiddish, THIS was the first question on the show page:
לאל
I can't tell you how many times I've heard this 'question' asked after a lecture at YIVO. No matter that the discussion was about Bundist contraception clinics in inter-war Poland. Nope, the most burning question for a certain type of audience member is always "What about Ladino?????" (To which I silently scream "Ladi-NOOOOOOOO....")
Maybe they took a wrong turn and meant to go to the lecture at the American Sephardi Federation? I dunno. If you're one of the What About Ladino Kvetchers (WALKs) please explain (hah!) in the comments.
And tune in today at 1:20 pm, or listen after the fact when the show is archived.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Tshuve Tfile Tsedoke: How Will YOU Be Averting an Evil Decree?
Our tradition tells us that during the ten days between Rosh Hashone and Yom Kiper, tshuve, tfile and tsedoke (repentance, prayer and charity) can avert an evil decree and bring us into good favor with the Judge upstairs.
Tshuve is hard. Tshuve actually means return more than repentance. Return from one's less than ideal behaviors and patterns. And, as we all know, true inner change is damn hard. Transformation of the self isn't a war that's won, but an everyday battle to be kinder, to be more thoughtful, to have faith in one's very ability to transcend. Like I said, damn hard.
And then there's tfile. Prayer. For those of us not so spiritually inclined, prayer can feel like the last thing bringing us closer to however we imagine divinity. Prayer is rote, it's boring, it's repetitive, it's full of praise for a theoretical entity about which I personally have very mixed feelings.
That leaves (some of) us with tsedoke. Again, the translation of tsedoke as charity is poor. Tsedoke really means righteousness or justice, as in צֶדֶק צֶדֶק תִּרְדּף (Justice, justice shall you pursue.) Everyone's probably seen this quoted a million times. It comes from Dvarim (Deuteronomy), parshas Shoftim (Judges). Moses tells the Israelites that they shall have an impartial system of justice:
But the justice we're concerned with during the Aseres Yemey Tshuve (ten days of repentance) is not the justice of magistrates and officials and ruling fairly over a place, (though it's appropriate that I'm writing this on Primary Day in New York City). During these days we're meditating (a little, I hope) on the ways that our gift of money, tsedoke, can encourage fairness, equality, access to education, or just the chance for a little human dignity.
There's no right or wrong way to do it. Different years I've had different approaches. Last year I gave a huge bag of clothes to a harm reduction organization in my neighborhood. Sometimes I've given money directly to homeless people. This year I have a couple of organizations in mind for donations. I thought I'd share with you, not to puff up my own charitable nature, khas v'sholem, but to give a little plug for what I think are, in their own ways, righteous enterprises.
WNYC. Public radio at its best.
Footsteps. A truly amazing organization that has helped so many young men and women transition out of the haredi world. I've personally seen how much good they're doing, and what an asset Footsteps is to the Jewish community as a whole.
YAFFED. YAFFED advocates for improved secular education in Hasidic schools. It's run by young people who have recently left the community and works to effect change from the inside. Truly inspiring stuff.
Those are my picks. To what or whom will you be giving?
Tshuve is hard. Tshuve actually means return more than repentance. Return from one's less than ideal behaviors and patterns. And, as we all know, true inner change is damn hard. Transformation of the self isn't a war that's won, but an everyday battle to be kinder, to be more thoughtful, to have faith in one's very ability to transcend. Like I said, damn hard.
And then there's tfile. Prayer. For those of us not so spiritually inclined, prayer can feel like the last thing bringing us closer to however we imagine divinity. Prayer is rote, it's boring, it's repetitive, it's full of praise for a theoretical entity about which I personally have very mixed feelings.
That leaves (some of) us with tsedoke. Again, the translation of tsedoke as charity is poor. Tsedoke really means righteousness or justice, as in צֶדֶק צֶדֶק תִּרְדּף (Justice, justice shall you pursue.) Everyone's probably seen this quoted a million times. It comes from Dvarim (Deuteronomy), parshas Shoftim (Judges). Moses tells the Israelites that they shall have an impartial system of justice:
Judges and officers shalt thou make thee in all thy gates, which the LORD thy God giveth thee, tribe by tribe; and they shall judge the people with righteous judgment.
Thou shalt not wrest judgment; thou shalt not respect persons; neither shalt thou take a gift; for a gift doth blind the eyes of the wise, and pervert the words of the righteous.
Justice, justice shalt thou follow, that thou mayest live, and inherit the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
But the justice we're concerned with during the Aseres Yemey Tshuve (ten days of repentance) is not the justice of magistrates and officials and ruling fairly over a place, (though it's appropriate that I'm writing this on Primary Day in New York City). During these days we're meditating (a little, I hope) on the ways that our gift of money, tsedoke, can encourage fairness, equality, access to education, or just the chance for a little human dignity.
There's no right or wrong way to do it. Different years I've had different approaches. Last year I gave a huge bag of clothes to a harm reduction organization in my neighborhood. Sometimes I've given money directly to homeless people. This year I have a couple of organizations in mind for donations. I thought I'd share with you, not to puff up my own charitable nature, khas v'sholem, but to give a little plug for what I think are, in their own ways, righteous enterprises.
WNYC. Public radio at its best.
Footsteps. A truly amazing organization that has helped so many young men and women transition out of the haredi world. I've personally seen how much good they're doing, and what an asset Footsteps is to the Jewish community as a whole.
YAFFED. YAFFED advocates for improved secular education in Hasidic schools. It's run by young people who have recently left the community and works to effect change from the inside. Truly inspiring stuff.
Those are my picks. To what or whom will you be giving?
Friday, September 6, 2013
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
September 9 - Festival of New Yiddish Song
Rokhl says: This is going to be UH-MAZING!!
At YIVO 15 West 16th Street
Featuring:
Josh Waletzky
Reception with the artists will follow the concert
Admission: General - $15 | YIVO, CJH, CTMD members, seniors and students - $10
Box Office: smarttix.com | 212.868.4444
Festival of New Yiddish Song
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 2013 at 7pm
At YIVO 15 West 16th Street
Featuring:
Patrick Farrell
Benjy Fox-Rosen
Svetlana Kundish
Josh Waletzky
Michael Winograd
and Special Guest, Deborah Strauss
Reception with the artists will follow the concert
Admission: General - $15 | YIVO, CJH, CTMD members, seniors and students - $10
Box Office: smarttix.com | 212.868.4444
Friday, August 30, 2013
Montreal Flashback: December 2001 and the Kishif Kartofl Kabaret
As some of you may know, I just got back from a few days in Montreal. I was there for the Montreal Jewish Music Festival and to see all the Yiddish world peeps I missed by not going to Klezkanada. (Incidentally, I learned that in Canada they call Klezkanada Klez. And Canadian bacon is just bacon. Not that I'd know that personally.)
The Jewish Music Festival takes place mostly at the legendary club Sala Rosa. The music was amazing and I got to see Shtreiml, Anthony Russell, SoCalled and even do some klezmer contra dancing. I hadn't been back to Sala Rosa since December 2001, when I came into town for something called the Kishif Kartofl Kabaret (Magic Potato Cabaret).
In 2001 I was in law school. In my free time (hah!) I was taking baby steps into journalism with a 'zine called Rootless Cosmopolitan. The following piece appeared in its first issue. I'm sharing the piece with you 1. because it's fun to go back to a place and see how it's changed and 2. because it's cool to see how much you've changed.
Two things jump out at me. First. Damn, I was angry. I mean, really fucking ragey, three day waiting period angry. WHEW. And a little bit mean. I wrote my 'zine knowing it was mostly for me, so I didn't exactly pull any punches. I think if I was writing this now I'd focus less on making fun of people and more on the larger context.
And second, I'm happy to say that my own relationship to Jewish dance has changed for the better. I'm still a terrible dancer, but (for me) I know a lot more about Jewish dances and how to do them. I danced quite a bit this trip. And the dancing at the Jewish Music Festival reflected that many of the people at the shows had either just come back from Klezkanada or had been at one time. The quality of the dancing in 2013 was far better than that of 2001. It is possible to create (and renew) communal culture. Songs can be learned, dances can be taught. It's pretty fucking cool!
All that said, here's my report from Montreal, December 2001 (reproduced from Issue 1, Volume 1 of Rootless Cosmopolitan)
 |
| Spotted on Avenue du Parc in Montreal |
The Jewish Music Festival takes place mostly at the legendary club Sala Rosa. The music was amazing and I got to see Shtreiml, Anthony Russell, SoCalled and even do some klezmer contra dancing. I hadn't been back to Sala Rosa since December 2001, when I came into town for something called the Kishif Kartofl Kabaret (Magic Potato Cabaret).
In 2001 I was in law school. In my free time (hah!) I was taking baby steps into journalism with a 'zine called Rootless Cosmopolitan. The following piece appeared in its first issue. I'm sharing the piece with you 1. because it's fun to go back to a place and see how it's changed and 2. because it's cool to see how much you've changed.
Two things jump out at me. First. Damn, I was angry. I mean, really fucking ragey, three day waiting period angry. WHEW. And a little bit mean. I wrote my 'zine knowing it was mostly for me, so I didn't exactly pull any punches. I think if I was writing this now I'd focus less on making fun of people and more on the larger context.
And second, I'm happy to say that my own relationship to Jewish dance has changed for the better. I'm still a terrible dancer, but (for me) I know a lot more about Jewish dances and how to do them. I danced quite a bit this trip. And the dancing at the Jewish Music Festival reflected that many of the people at the shows had either just come back from Klezkanada or had been at one time. The quality of the dancing in 2013 was far better than that of 2001. It is possible to create (and renew) communal culture. Songs can be learned, dances can be taught. It's pretty fucking cool!
All that said, here's my report from Montreal, December 2001 (reproduced from Issue 1, Volume 1 of Rootless Cosmopolitan)
(Cranky) Letter from the (Cranky) Editor: Letter from Montreal
December 2001
The stage has been reset and the lights are back up. It’s only the second act, but the Montrealers have apparently obeyed the no smoking signs long enough (as if the request to ne pas fumer expires after an hour or two) and pretty much everyone except this non-smoking American lights up.
We’re all munching on latkes and wondering what the next act, Black Ox Orkestar, is going to sound like. Instead of the whole band coming on, one guy comes out in a white shirt and black vest. No one is quite sure if this is a solo number or what. His name is Gabe Levine and he is a member of the Orkestar. And before they take the stage, he has a few words to say. He begins by acknowledging the fact that we are gathered in honor of the festival of Khanike, also known to normal people as Chanuka. He draws the familiar (in Yiddishist circles) comparison of cultures: diasporic/Yiddish on the one side and sui generis Israeli on the other. Levine feels that diasporic/Yiddishist culture is more dynamic being that it is less programmatic than Israeli- it has no goals to meet, no agenda to move forward. More to his point, diasporic culture is not a tool of Israeli militarism.
At this point an older gentleman calls out from the audience “I thought I was supposed to be listening to music here.” Gabe has been expecting this and cooly replies, “We’re getting to that, sir.” That boy gets an A in respecting his elders. He continues reading from a piece of paper as a few older members of the audience leave noisily. He again calls on the integrity of diasporic and Yiddish culture and the resilience and resistance within those traditions. He asks us to draw on that alternative tradition and to stand up for what is right- to end the injustices committed against Palestinians and to ‘end the occupation.’ With that, the rest of the band joins him on stage and rips into their first number, Ver Tantzt Dort? (Who is Dancing There?) an original song written in Yiddish by Levine about armed conflict in Israel.
This was the scene at the Kishif Kartofl Kabaret in Montreal, the last night of Khanike, 2001, a night for celebrating, eating deep fried foods and hearing some great music. The irony of decrying Jewish militarism while celebrating a militaristic festival (the only one of its kind in the Jewish year) seems to be mine alone to ponder. The evening begins old school traditional and ends with a hip-hopkele dance party. The music was great, but the interaction between the audience and performers was worth the 7 bucks admission. And although I am usually an urban monogamist and pledge my love solely to New York, I am infatuated with Montreal. It’s a beautiful, old world city with a Jewish community quite different from that of New York. Part of that difference is the fact that the doors of immigration for European Jews closed at least 10 years later than they did in America, a significant fact which puts many Canadian Jews much closer, temporally, to their ‘over-there-ness’, making their cultural dislocation much more uncomfortable.
The Orkestar played a wide ranging set ending with a bunch of people at the front of the stage in a sort of Jewish mosh pit. I find myself writing in my notes “Dance education is important,” even as the thought of dance research and preservation makes me reach for a plastic bag to put over my face, to be completely honest. But here we are, and how else to come to terms with the spectacle of my people, expressing their joy for life, their gratitude for living during a comfortable, prosperous time in history, when the joyous, ecstatic, physical manifestation of this expression of happiness is... flying around monotonously in a circle as fast as fucking possible. Ugh. I’ve been here before and I’ll be here many times again, unless I decide to convert to whatever they were in Footloose and move somewhere dancing of any kind is forbidden. But seriously, the idea of appropriate social dancing is no joke. At
this point, for this particular world, I can’t imagine a scenario where it will ever get any better. Where’s that plastic bag?
Before the next act, an experimental sound collage piece called Needletrade by Torontonian Reena Katz, it is announced that equal stage time has been demanded and, unbelievably, given. I’ve never seen this kind of audience engagement at a musical performance in New York. Interactivity here is usually limited to lectures and conferences. Sometimes, usually, it’s the question and answer period at the end of a discussion of a new book, let’s say, about the yiddish art theater. There’s always one guy who gets up to ask, a propos of nothing, “What about Murnia?” I go to Workman’s Circle events in New York specifically hoping that some AK is going to pick a fight, or, better yet, stand up during the question and answer period, proclaim the author wrong on every point, and offer his own self-published book as a modest redress.
A woman by the name of Terry Mc**** takes the stage. She was one of the people who protested Gabe Levine’s speech by leaving and demanding her money back. She accepted stage time, instead. McA******’s speech is off the cuff and though obviously heartfelt, not well organized or presented. It’s a “knife in her socialist Jewish heart” to hear her Jewish people characterized as oppressors. It is not the first time someone on stage will cast themselves as a socialist or inject class-consciousness into the dialog. But she doesn’t dwell on universal socialist ideals, hardly. She emphasizes again and again her own personal oppression in Canada. The audience is astounded to learn that her family name was not McA***** upon arrival in Canada, but was changed. Although she makes it seem that this was thrust upon the McA****** famille, the truth is that names were not generally changed upon entry to a country (America or Canada) and the changing of a name was a very conscious effort of a family to assimilate as quickly as possible. McA****** insists that in the Israel/Palestinian issue there are no good guys or bad guys, merely two long histories clashing with each other, both sides having been oppressors and oppressed. I note that she emphasizes the fact that her family “had” to change its name. I wonder why this theme has such power for her, as in her nervousness it seems to be one of the only things she can focus on. Does she actually think this is an injustice perpetrated on her family alone? Or that this is even an injustice at all, instead of a smart social move I’m sure her family was thrilled to have the freedom to make.
After Terry McA***** comes a local named M****. M**** is somewhere in his sixties, an anarchist Peter Pan whom everyone knows because he works at the socialist bookstore. M**** is a bit more focused than Terry McA******, you can tell his harangue has been a long time coming- working at a socialist bookstore leaves you with more free time than one might expect. Yet, his bullet points are so wrong, in every aspect, on every level, in every fucking way, I consider just jumping on stage (I was in the front row) and bitch slapping some sense into his stupid kepele, forget about politely asking for my own five minutes. The M**** world view seems to encompass young people in idling taxis, jumping out to carelessly withdraw cash from their newfangled automated teller machines. I’m not sure if it’s the decadence of the taxi or the expendable cash or, I don’t know, all the teller jobs which have been replaced by unfeeling machines- is he some kind of Luddite? Is this truly an anti-technology rant? It’s unclear. He accuses all of us of being unaware that the social hall we’re sitting in, which now belongs to Montreal’s huge Portuguese community, was in fact sold to the Portuguese by its former owners, the Arbiter Ring/Workmen’s Circle. The audience is so stunned by his revelation it can barely stop talking over him and smoking up a fucking storm.
Take that, he continues, you decadent taxi taking dead-inside shopaholics numbing your pain with the carcinogenic opiates of modem consumer culture, you, you witless audience members who may l remind you have no respect for our yiddish socialist poet forefathers and mothers whose name you probably don’t even know! Uh, M*****? Didn’t some young punk just get up there not five minutes ago and sing a song, in yiddish, that he wrote, by himself, were YOU NOT FUCKING PAYING ATTENTION YOU DELUSIONAL OLD FUCK??
There it is, the coral reef of inter-generational conflict and cultural amnesia on which I can’t seem to keep from scraping my feet raw from dragging around this damn scene so much. No, the point is NOT that we have no respect for the past. If we, the audience members at the kishif kartofl kabaret (organized by two friends of mine in their twenties) had no respect for our la-la-la cultural heritage we wouldn’t have dragged our asses to this dump on a freezing Montreal night. We’d be at a damn bar dancing and getting shiker vi goyim because Montreal doesn’t have idiotic anti-dancing cabaret laws like New York (hey, l still love you New York, really, I do).
No, the problem is not with the young people at all. The energy and ideas and sweat I’ve seen just tonight has been incredible. The amount of work that we have to do to reclaim our fucking precious la-la-la cultural heritage is akin to cyanide gold mining. If our grandparents and parents hadn’t so easily chucked all this stuff, so willingly given us laughable Jewish educations which, it’s a surprise more of us didn’t end up wiccan bi-sexuals (as some at my nice Jewish university did), left us feeling like Judaism had no culture except suffering and more suffering, maybe we wouldn’t be in the goddamn mess. There, I said it.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
From the Back Wall: Gut Yom-Tev Kinder
Confession time: I listen to a classic rock station. I'm not proud, but it's a habit from junior high and I can't seem to kick it.
Anyway, one of the many irritating things about my classic rock station is when they say they're going to play something you haven't heard 10,000 times before: something from the "back wall." And then they play "Witchy Woman" or "Paperback Writer." UGH! As if they don't very well know that every song played comes from a not very large dot matrix printout from 1989, "back wall" included! UGH! Just being a B-side doesn't make it obscure. Jeez!
Now, on to things so not deserving of scorn.
Last summer I was gifted with a huge stack of vintage Jewish vinyl. It's been a year and I'm still working my way through it all. So I decided that a good way to explore these treasures is to blog about them in my own "back wall" series. Because, hey, most of these are legit obscure (unavailable on CD) and I really do keep my records on the back wall (of my living room.)
First up: Gut Yom-Tev Kinder
Gut Yom-Tev Kinder was released in 1974 by the education department of the Workmen's Circle and featured a chorus of kids from its schools. According to the back of the record jacket, Gut Yom-Tev Kinder came with booklet with Yiddish words, English transliteration AND English translation. WOW!
Alas, the copy I inherited was missing the booklet; the cassette (purchased new) never had a booklet; and the Workmen's Circle has never seen fit to re-release it on CD. (A huge wasted opportunity, in my humble opinion. They let this get their rightful market share.)
Gut Yom-Tev Kinder is definitely worth buying (and reissuing!!!) because on one record you get a generous slice of the Yiddish holiday repertoire, all in a very understandable Yiddish, appropriate for all levels of Yiddish students. Moreover, many of the songs on Gut Yom-Tev Kinder have been re-worked and re-appropriated by the edgiest of artists. Yiddish Princess does Oyfn Nil, and the Klezmatics do Ale Brider, Makht Oyf and Simkhes Toyre, just to name a few.
Seen from 2013, Gut Yom-Tev Kinder, released pretty much at the beginning of the "klezmer revival," is a charming peek into what was to come.
A Suke
A Fon
Simkhas-Toyre
Der Vinter
Feter Shneyer
Khanike Oy Khanike
A Dreydl
Drey Zikh Dreydele
Gut-Yomtev Aykh Kinder
O Ir Kleyne Likhtelekh
Ver Ken Dertseyln
In Khoydesh Shvat
Haynt Iz Purim
Makht Oyf
Yakhne Dvoshe
Ma Nishtano
Tayere Malke
Oyfn Nil
Eliyohu Hanovi
Dayenu
Khad Gadyo
Geyen Mir In Shul Arayn
Katz Un Moyz
Mitn Zegel
Di Ban
A Yingele A Meydele
S'hot Der Tate
Ikh Bin A Guter Muzikant
Karuseln Dos Iz Emes
Der Zingemaring
Kum Rokhele Zikh Shpiln*
O, Hermerl Klap
Makhnes Geyen
Shoymer In Galil
Ale Brider
Fayer Fayer
Ay Vi Gut
Sholem
*An unjustifiable absence from the klezmer revival repertoire has been Kum Rokhele Zikh Shpiln. I look forward to someone rectifying this very, very soon.
Anyway, one of the many irritating things about my classic rock station is when they say they're going to play something you haven't heard 10,000 times before: something from the "back wall." And then they play "Witchy Woman" or "Paperback Writer." UGH! As if they don't very well know that every song played comes from a not very large dot matrix printout from 1989, "back wall" included! UGH! Just being a B-side doesn't make it obscure. Jeez!
Now, on to things so not deserving of scorn.
Last summer I was gifted with a huge stack of vintage Jewish vinyl. It's been a year and I'm still working my way through it all. So I decided that a good way to explore these treasures is to blog about them in my own "back wall" series. Because, hey, most of these are legit obscure (unavailable on CD) and I really do keep my records on the back wall (of my living room.)
First up: Gut Yom-Tev Kinder
(Yes, I liked it so much I had to have it in multiple manifestations of obsolescence)
Gut Yom-Tev Kinder was released in 1974 by the education department of the Workmen's Circle and featured a chorus of kids from its schools. According to the back of the record jacket, Gut Yom-Tev Kinder came with booklet with Yiddish words, English transliteration AND English translation. WOW!
Alas, the copy I inherited was missing the booklet; the cassette (purchased new) never had a booklet; and the Workmen's Circle has never seen fit to re-release it on CD. (A huge wasted opportunity, in my humble opinion. They let this get their rightful market share.)
Gut Yom-Tev Kinder is definitely worth buying (and reissuing!!!) because on one record you get a generous slice of the Yiddish holiday repertoire, all in a very understandable Yiddish, appropriate for all levels of Yiddish students. Moreover, many of the songs on Gut Yom-Tev Kinder have been re-worked and re-appropriated by the edgiest of artists. Yiddish Princess does Oyfn Nil, and the Klezmatics do Ale Brider, Makht Oyf and Simkhes Toyre, just to name a few.
Seen from 2013, Gut Yom-Tev Kinder, released pretty much at the beginning of the "klezmer revival," is a charming peek into what was to come.
Side One
Leshono ToyvoA Suke
A Fon
Simkhas-Toyre
Der Vinter
Feter Shneyer
Khanike Oy Khanike
A Dreydl
Drey Zikh Dreydele
Gut-Yomtev Aykh Kinder
O Ir Kleyne Likhtelekh
Ver Ken Dertseyln
In Khoydesh Shvat
Haynt Iz Purim
Makht Oyf
Yakhne Dvoshe
Ma Nishtano
Tayere Malke
Oyfn Nil
Eliyohu Hanovi
Dayenu
Khad Gadyo
Side Two
Oyfn PripetshikGeyen Mir In Shul Arayn
Katz Un Moyz
Mitn Zegel
Di Ban
A Yingele A Meydele
S'hot Der Tate
Ikh Bin A Guter Muzikant
Karuseln Dos Iz Emes
Der Zingemaring
Kum Rokhele Zikh Shpiln*
O, Hermerl Klap
Makhnes Geyen
Shoymer In Galil
Ale Brider
Fayer Fayer
Ay Vi Gut
Sholem
*An unjustifiable absence from the klezmer revival repertoire has been Kum Rokhele Zikh Shpiln. I look forward to someone rectifying this very, very soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)