JORDAN MOSHE
Raising their voices from either the bima or the choir loft, the shul choir has defined the Yom Tov memories of South African Jews, young and old, for decades.
Today, the shul choir is considered by some to be old-fashioned and unnecessary. However, if done away with, the rich musical heritage which has shaped the very fabric of the South African Jewish experience will be lost.
The roots of Jewish choral music can be traced back to the early days of Jewish history. “People tend to treat tradition as one homogeneous thing,” says Adam Golding, the conductor of the Great Park Synagogue choir. “The reality is that it consists of multiple segments of development, trends, and influences. Shifts in musical movement and popular culture mean it is a dynamic musical tradition.”
He explains further, “Instrumental and vocal music were provided by the Levites in the days of the temple. From there, the tradition developed through the centuries as Jews went into the diaspora, coming into contact with German, Austrian, English, and Italian music cultures. Seventeenth century Italian Jewish composer Salamone Rossi was among the first to bring such music into the shul and introduce Hebrew words to musical notation. Choral music as we know it developed in 19th century Germany.”
The constant motion which defined Jewish life is equally indicative of the dynamism which characterises Jewish musical tradition, says Russel Lurie, the Chairperson of the Johannesburg Jewish Male Choir (JJMC).
“The drama of Jewish life has always been represented though its music,” he says. “Any significant event – be it historical or religious – would define the musical expression of the time, and capture the spirit of the people who lived then. If Jews were celebrating a simcha or suffering at the hands of an oppressor, they sang songs which reflected their circumstances and conveyed their emotions.”
Whether they were rejoicing or mourning, Jewish people imbued their culture and daily lives with song. Besides its impact on Yiddish theatre, this would give rise to chazzanut (leaders) of choral music in shuls. “Like the Levites, chazzanim put psalms and prayers to music,” says Evelyn Green, an accomplished pianist and Director of the JJMC. “Alongside choirs, they developed a musical culture for shuls, and they were expected to innovate and improvise while singing rather than merely repeat notes.”
Even in South Africa, this tradition of music not only took root but flourished with the arrival of Jews in the 19th century. The first shul to be opened was the Gardens Congregation in the 1840s, and although the first Rosh Hashanah service held in Johannesburg was conducted in the Rand Club in 1887, the first shuls in the city featured not only a choir, but a mixed one at that.
“The mixed choir was still prevalent at that point in time, even in orthodox shuls,” says Golding. “Just like shuls in London and elsewhere in Europe, South African shuls allowed women in their choirs. Even the seat of [United Kingdom] Chief Rabbi Hertz had a mixed choir. This was not some renegade movement which was defying a norm, but a legitimate orthodox Jewish authority which permitted ladies to sing in shul choirs.”
Although guided by the traditions of Britain and the continent, Jewish music innovators in South Africa made an effort to make the music their own. “South Africa was a bastion of Jewish music,” says Green. “Chazzanim like Gluck, Bagley, Alter, Stern, and others gave definition to chazzanut, and set a unique path for South African Jewry. Zimelman and Klein followed in their footsteps, and trailblazed across the latter half of the 20th century. We certainly made a name for ourselves.”
Golding agrees. “The rearranging of certain traditions by innovators in South Africa gave us the four-voice male choir we know today. At one point in its history, the Gardens Shul had 30 boy sopranos. The Berea Shul choir was once so popular, it would perform at 10 weddings in a single day, a train of simchas passing through the shul in rapid succession. South African Jewish choirs and musicians became prominent in the world of Jewish music, so much so that until today, one struggles to find a shul choir in the Commonwealth that doesn’t have a South African in it.”
Given the clearly innovative nature of Jewish musical personalities in South Africa, the decline in popularity of chazzanut and Jewish choirs is both perplexing and sad. “You often hear people say that they don’t like shul choirs because they don’t innovate or include enough variety,” says Golding. “This is simply not true. Jewish composers worked tirelessly to devise new material for choral performance, and their drive to innovate continues today.”
Green says that the problem is certainly not a new one, but exists for a different reason today. “People have always wanted something new and different. In the past, if chazzanim didn’t improvise or embellish the music, people would complain, and youngsters would feel that they were back in the previous century. The very same thing happens today,” she says.
“However, the problem today is that the choir and chazzan are racing against the clock, trying to please everyone. Moreover, children are not encouraged to develop a cultural appreciation for this type of music. Antagonism towards what is seen as ‘old’ is extremely pervasive, to the point of losing our rich heritage as Jews.”
Lurie, Golding, and Green agree that the introduction of certain modern tunes to pieces of Jewish music may help, though they need to be balanced with more traditional ones as well. “Popular tunes like those of Lloyd-Webber and Leonard Cohen are common today in Jewish music,” says Golding, “but they need to be appropriately inserted. The meaning of the prayer can so easily be lost if partnered with a certain tune. Singing to the bride as she comes down the aisle to the tune of Time to say Goodbye is counterintuitive, and makes no sense. Additionally, using any popular tune with well-known lyrics must inherently detract from the prayer.”
Jewish choral music finds itself at a crossroads, and the need for a lasting solution is more pressing than ever. Says Lurie, “We need a colloquium to sit down and discuss the way forward. Everyone involved in choirs laments the decline, but does nothing. Rabbis, choir masters, and choristers need to meet and devise a plan of action. People need to be encouraged to see just how much choirs give the community, and keep our Jewish heritage alive.”
