Arno Nadel (1878–1943): A Contributor to Modern German-Jewish Identity from Vilnius

The phenomenon of Arno Nadel (1878–1943) is presupposed by his extremely diverse activities in art, scholarship, and musical journalism. A music arranger, musicologist, music journalist and collector, composer, choirmaster, pianist and organist, as well as a poet, playwright, painter and translator, Arno Nadel was born in a religious Jewish family in Vilnius and spent his first twelve years there. Having lived and studied in Königsberg for five years, in 1895 Nadel settled in Berlin, one of the largest centres of German Jewish cultural life before the National Socialists came to power in 1933. Nadel was murdered in Auschwitz in 1943. So far, his creative legacy has not been studied in Lithuania. The aim of this article is to bring Nadel back on the horizon of multinational Lithuanian cultural history and to review his contribution to the formation of modern German-Jewish identity in the context of Nadel’s Vilnius origins and his diverse musical activities. Nadel’s original compositions, arrangements of traditional Jewish liturgical music and folk songs, research in and texts about Jewish music contributed to a new approach towards cultural connections between the Jews of Eastern Europe and Germany, and were important for the development of German Jewish music in the first half of the twentieth century, as well as for the documentation and renewal of Jewish liturgical music. Although Arno Nadel composed music in a variety of genres himself, it was his work as a scholar and arranger of Jewish music and as a musicologist that received the most attention among his contemporaries and in the articles written after the Second World War.

Music in the Polish-Jewish theatre in the first decades of the 20th century in the light of surviving sources

The article presents the few surviving documents concerning the incidental music to Polish-Jewish plays performed on the Polish stages in the first decades of the 20th century (until 1939). This theatre was to constitute a space for the dialogue between the Jewish and Polish communities. The idea of its creators was to reject the existing, usually negative, way of presenting Jews in Polish theatre as well as to show authentic Jewish life — customs, rituals, music and dances — on stage. A breakthrough in both of these areas came with the so-called Jewish plays of Gabriela Zapolska — Małka Szwarcenkopf and Jojne Firułkes. The idea of the Polish-Jewish theatre was then developed by Marek Arnsztajn (Andrzej Marek). Referring to the surviving sources (scores as well as press reviews and notes in directors’ copies of the scripts), the author analyses music to two performances of Małka Szwarcenkopf, and presents the musical appendix to the Polish version of An-ski’s Dybbuk published in 1922. The analysis seeks to capture the composers’ specific ideas of Jewish music and to discover the sources of their inspiration. The second objective of the article was to present the cultural background against which the Polish-Jewish theatre evolved.

Curating the Virtual Museum

Academic programs in ethnomusicology are almost exclusively oriented toward training students for tenure-track positions at research institutions and liberal arts colleges. However, the students that graduate from these institutions do not exclusively follow this singular, narrowly defined career path. Nor should they. If the field of ethnomusicology is to increase its relevance outside academe, it would do well to pay to greater attention to how it prepares its practitioners for nontraditional career paths. This chapter examines some of the themes and issues that the author has encountered as an ethnomusicologist working for a nonprofit organization focused on the preservation and dissemination of American Jewish music. In addition to outlining some of the key differences between working inside and outside academe, it argues for a view of applied (or public) ethnomusicology that bridges gaps between ethnomusicology and musicology, between the academic and the “real” world, and between the universal and the particular—with case studies illustrating specific examples from the author’s work. A discussion section considers the ubiquity of the term “curator” in the present cultural moment, and offers suggestions as to how to individuals can prepare themselves and their students for nontraditional career paths. Ultimately, it argues that the pursuit of traditional and nontraditional career paths should be complementary—rather than mutually exclusive—endeavors, and that working to bridge the perceived gap between the two will strengthen both.

Shlomo Carlebach

Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach (b. 1925–d. 1994) was a spiritual guide, charismatic religious leader, and influential composer of popular modern Hasidic tunes. Through his musical storytelling, inspirational insights, and personal contacts, he inspired a new form of heartfelt soulful Judaism and became a progenitor of the 20th-century neo-Hasidic renaissance. Born in Berlin on 14 January 1925, he grew up in Baden near Vienna where his father, Rabbi Naphtali Carlebach, served as chief rabbi (1931–1938). Shlomo was named after his paternal grandfather, Rabbi Dr. Shlomo (Salomon) Carlebach (b. 1845–d. 1919), chief rabbi of Lübeck, Germany. Shlomo’s maternal grandfather was Rabbi Dr. Asher (Arthur) Cohn (b. 1885–d. 1926), Chief Rabbi of Basel, Switzerland. Young Shlomo was destined by his parents to continue in the family’s rabbinic calling. With the ominous Nazi rise to power, the Carlebach family fled, eventually arriving in New York on 23 March 1939. Shlomo studied in the Haredi yeshiva high school Mesivta Torah Vodaas until April 1943, and then joined a dozen students who helped Rabbi Aharon Kotler establish the first Haredi full-time Torah-learning yeshiva in Lakewood, New Jersey. Then, in 1949, Shlomo embarked upon a career as the outreach emissary for the Chabad Lubavitch Rebbe. From the home base of his father’s synagogue, Kehillath Jacob, in Manhattan, Shlomo set up the first Hasidic outreach program in America. But by 1955 he had begun charting a unique “outreach” career as a “singing Rabbi.” Highlights of his career include establishing the House of Love and Prayer (HLP) in Haight-Ashbury (1968–1978) and Moshav Meor Modi’in in Israel (1976). He was the featured singer at rallies of the Student Struggle for Soviet Jewry (SSSJ), and his most famous song, “Am Yisrael Chai,” was composed for their protest movement. In 1989, he led the first Jewish music tour in Russia, reaching fifty thousand people in three weeks and inspiring Soviet Jewry. He also visited Poland 1–10 January 1989 with eight concerts in ten days and thus was the first openly religious Jew to perform in Communist Poland after the 1967–1968 wave of anti-Semitism. But in his own eyes, his major achievement was as “Rebbe of the Street-Corner.” His potential constituency could be found in any forlorn corner that he encountered. And since he traveled around the world sharing his utopian vision of love and peace, he assumed a unique role as a charismatic iconoclast rebbe.

Sounding Jewish in Berlin

This chapter devotes specific consideration to the complex relationship between contemporary Jewish identity and klezmer music in the city—as seen in two case studies that both directly address Berlin Jewish history through music. The first of these is a project that unearths the rich recorded legacy of two prewar Berlin Jewish record labels (Semer and Lukraphon) and re-presents their music for a modern concert audience. Despite the pre-Holocaust provenance of this music, a post-Holocaust framing is unavoidable, making these materials both a way of hearing the past and also a commentary on the present (including changing German-Jewish relations). In the process, Semer Ensemble raises important questions about the relationship of bounded historical materials to contemporary performance practice. The chapter also critiques the project, arguing that while it powerfully illustrates the wealth of talent and creativity in Berlin’s Jewish music scene, it also bends certain historical narratives to better suit its own artistic aims. Secondly, the chapter discusses the life story and work of singer Tania Alon, one of the few Berlin-born Jews on today’s klezmer and Yiddish scene. Tania’s deeply felt testimony as the granddaughter of Holocaust victims stands as a powerful contrast to the easy fluidity of the contemporary milieu and reminds us of the very personal resonances that this music also contains. In particular, Tania’s singing at Stolpersteine ceremonies is explored, through her own words, as a way of sounding the silenced voices of her family and simultaneously an aural part of the urban fabric.

Sounding Jewish in Berlin

This book explores in lively detail the music, musical networks, and performance spaces of the contemporary Berlin klezmer and Yiddish music scene. It chronicles an avowedly international group of musicians (Jewish and non-Jewish) who collectively represent an important new transnational voice for this traditional Eastern European Jewish music. Through the words and music of the performers, the author reveals a rich and constantly developing scene that has embedded itself in the contemporary city in creative, diverse, and sometimes confrontational ways. This ongoing transformation of Berlin klezmer is powerful evidence that if traditional music is to remain audible amid the noise of the urban, it must stake its claim as a meaningful part of that noise. By engaging with the city itself, klezmer in Berlin has moved beyond “revival”—revealing how traditional culture can remain relevant within a shifting, overlapping, decidedly modern, urban cosmopolitanism.

‘Fate Leads the Willing, and Drags the Unwilling’

In this article, I explore the role that Austrian-born musicologist/composer Eric Werner (1901–1988) cultivated as a representative of musical Wissenschaft des Judenthums in postwar America. I focus here on the diary that Werner kept between 1955 and 1957 – a heretofore untapped resource – which chronicles his efforts to build intellectual refugee networks while simultaneously helping to restart an international network of Jewish music discourse spanning America, Europe and Israel. Music, in Werner’s view, required a scientific basis for study from which authentic practices could be rebuilt. Thus, while Werner relied on revitalising cantors as vessels of Jewish music, he viewed musicology as the core discipline from which Jewish music ‘tradition’ could arise.

“Making Antifascist Politics Visible”

In the course of the 1970s, membership of the Jewish communities dwindled further, yet Jewish music continued to strive due to the presence of the Leipziger Synagogalchor, which kept prewar repertoires alive and exposed an ever-wider audience to them. As such, Jewish music slowly entered the mainstream and moved “out of the ghetto,” as Werner Sander had expressly called for in his very first programs. But this course was also turning into a Jewish heritage music, a mode of cultural production in the present with recourse to the past, singled out for protection, nourishment, and even enshrinement. Financially supported by the state, the Leipziger Synagogalchor also became a musical embodiment of the “success” of the GDR’s antifascist course. In reality, the choir, which consisted of non-Jewish singers, represented the presence of absence, a substitute for a culturally striving Jewish life.