
|
Yiddish song as metaphor for Yiddishkayt: Stephen Merkel, David Krakauer and
Joyce Rosenzweig
(GREAT BARRINGTON, Mass., Aug. 1, 2000) - On Monday night at Hevreh of
Southern Berkshire, in a recital of Yiddish music, Cantor Stephen Merkel of
Westchester Reform Temple in Scarsdale, N.Y., said that the English word
that most describes Yiddish, the language and the culture, is
“irrepressible.” It certainly hasn’t been for lack of trying on the part of
many - Jews and non-Jews alike -- who would repress Yiddish, which for
hundreds of years was the everyday language of Eastern European Jews.
In a program featuring text by Rabbi Zoe Grashow Klein and with
musical accompaniment by clarinetist David Krakauer and pianist Joyce
Rosenzweig, Merkel set out to portray the indomitable spirit of Yiddishkayt
in story and song. And if the show’s thematic intentions were only partially
realized, that didn’t lessen the dramatic impact of the musical performance
itself.
Merkel’s recital, given the clumsy title “Klezmer and More: Songs of
the Jewish Life Cycle,” had a dozen-odd songs framed and connected by
narrative, fables and anecdotes that Merkel read from a script.
The narrative loosely followed the path of a human life, as the
program indicated, through “childhood, study, love and loss.” But early on,
it was apparent that the life being traced was the history of the Yiddish
language and culture itself.
Taking in a good thousand years, beginning with the language’s birth
along the Rhine River, moving eastward to the Pale of Settlement and then
back westward across the Atlantic Ocean, it’s an ambitious chunk of history.
It’s a tragic, poignant history, too, in that what Hitler’s Germans could
not accomplish on a global scale, the twin forces of assimilation and
Zionism eventually did.
It was also a lot of weight to support using lullabies and folk
songs like “Viglid” and “Oyfn Pripetshik,” even given Merkel’s dramatic and
at times overwrought treatment of the material.
With tasteful, superb accompaniment by Rosenzweig and Krakauer,
Merkel delivered most of the numbers, which were sung in Yiddish with
English translations provided, as operatic recital pieces. His baritone was
strong and expressive on top, less so on the bottom, where it flattened out
and lost its luster. He made only moderate use of cantorial ornamentation -
the bends, twists and hiccups that characterize Ashkenazic liturgical music
and klezmer - even when the compositions’ Yiddish modes invited a krekhts or
kneytshn.
In stark contrast to Merkel’s classically-oriented delivery was
Krakauer’s playing. No less a classically-trained musician is he, but in his
solos and his accompaniment, Krakauer was the very embodiment of the spirit
and artistry of the Yiddish klezmer.
Combining a rich earthiness and an emotional investment that belied his
rigorous technical gifts, Krakauer -- easily the greatest living exponent of
klezmer clarinet -- channelled all that was truly poignant and spiritual in
the music. Where Merkel, with polish and finesse, acted his way through his
numbers and literally read the script, Krakauer lived it, improvising in the
moment through the doinas, free-metered instrumental stories, and freylekhs,
or dance tunes.
Without words, Krakauer’s playing spoke eloquently of the kheyder boys
learning their alef-beis, of the husbands and wives separated by an ocean
between them, and of the triumph of nationhood and redemption out of the
ashes of the Shoah. If one came seeking the metaphor for Yiddish, or Yiddish
itself in its revival or “arrival” mode -- as the program unintentionally
but revealingly termed it -- it was in Krakauer’s irrepressible clarinet.
[This review originally appeared in the Berkshire Eagle on Aug. 3, 2000.
Copyright Seth Rogovoy 2000. All rights reserved.]
Seth Rogovoy rogovoy@berkshire.net music news, interviews, reviews, et al.
Next Article || Previous Article || Back
|