Blues musician Bob Margolin, who was on- and off-stage with Muddy Waters, for the 1976 Last Waltz concert, just posted the below reminiscence on his Facebook page. It’s a lovely story in its way, but it’s it’s also another illustration of what life was like for Joni Mitchell and her few female peers back then.
“Joni Mitchell with Rick Danko at a The Last Waltz, 1976. I was there with Muddy Waters. In the green room, she thanked Muddy for his music. Muddy didn’t know who she was, he didn’t know about young Rock Stars. But her beauty was breathtaking. Muddy hit on her. She backed out of it gracefully. She probably did that many times every day. A couple of months ago, I listened to a playlist of her greatest hits on Amazon Music. I was deeply moved by the width and depth of her artistry. For many of us it is a big thrill that she played at the Newport Folk Festival last weekend. Me too, I cried. She conquered time and illness and gave us a gift we didn’t expect. Thank you Joni Mitchell”
Image Description: Still showing stage with Rick Danko playing guitar and Joni Mitchell playing hers, facing a microphone to sing.
Posting this as a footnote to yesterday’s “Setting Out”
This week’s Torah reading includes a series of stages reported like this:
va-yisu bnei-Yisrael [The people set out from] _Place X_ va’yachanu [and encamped in] _Place Y_. E.g., (Num 33:5): וַיִּסְעוּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵל מֵרַעְמְסֵס וַֽיַּחֲנוּ בְּסֻכֹּֽת [Bnei-Yisrael set out from Ramses and encamped at Succoth.]
This series of journeying stages, or “marches,” begins at the start of the second portion in this week’s double-Torah-reading: Matot (Numbers 30:2-32:42) and Masei (Numbers 33:1- 36:13). The idea of leaving one stage to reach another was reverberating for me while Joni Mitchell sang at the recent Newport Folk Festival:
Late last night, I heard the screen door slam
and a big yellow taxi took away my old man
don’t it always seem to go
you don’t know what you’ve lost til it’s gone
Watching video from Mitchell’s surprise appearance on 7/24/22, I was reminded of something I learned many years ago, from Amy Brookman at Fabrangen Havurah, in reference to the portion Masei: We have to “set out” to get to anywhere new.
From One Stage…
It is now possible to see Mitchell’s “Last Waltz” performances — The Band’s farewell, 11/25/1976, at Winterland — via the Music Vault on YouTube. Robbie Robertson and the crowd enthusiastically welcome Mitchell, and she performs two songs from her Hejira album/tour: “Coyote” and “Furry Sings the Blues.”
B/W raw footage from Music Vault: Joni Mitchell’s “Coyote” with the Band at the Last Waltz
B/W raw footage from Music Vault: Joni Mitchell’s “Fury Sings the Blues” with the Band at the Last Waltz
The Last Waltz also included Laura Nyro and the sisters of the Staple Singers, but Mitchell is the only woman on the stage for the closing numbers. And I’ve come to think of that image, one woman among a stage full of men, as a kind of encapsulation of how the industry functioned then. (A cropped section of that final stage grouping is the feature image for this blog; description below.) See also footnote from a musician present at the time
Moreover, when Mitchell appears in the 1978 Scorcese documentary, only “Coyote” is included — the film includes only one number from most of the guest performers; and I believe the director made the choices — and she is introduced on the heels of an interview segment called “Women on the Road” (see below). That is, Scorcese chose to place Mitchell’s welcome onto the stage immediately after leering remarks from The Band about “women” as objects. To be extra clear about the causality: the director of a concert documentary chose to introduce an influential musician and composer with ugly, sexist and unrelated blither, rather than, say, thoughts about musical composition or influences — which the documentary does also include — or just with Robbie Robertson announcing, as in the above raw footage, “Joni Mitchell. Right!” (The audience is yelling her name, as if guessing who was next up.)
The film’s presentation of Joni Mitchell has been stuck in my consciousness since I first saw it at a theater in 1977. On the one hand, this was a boorish artistic move by one man; on the other, it was emblematic of a time. In both ways, experience of the film shaped my brain and body, in ways that I can sometimes recognize today and in ways that I probably do not even know.
….And, for the record: I do love and recommend the movie, for all the anger I harbor toward its director over many of its specifics. It’s available through Kanopy streaming and local libraries. (And I believe there is some kind of remastering with additional numbers originally omitted, including Mitchell’s “Furry Sings the Blues.”)
…to Another
On July 24 at Newport, Mitchell was surrounded by musicians of different musical backgrounds, gender identities, skin colors, and ages — many of them born long after Mitchell’s last appearance at Newport, in 1969, or her participation in The Band’s “Last Waltz” at Winterland in 1976.
Comparing the two images — Mitchell surrounded by collaborative, supportive (really, adoring) fellow performers in 2022 and Mitchell a powerful, lone woman actively denigrated by the filmmaker (if not her fellow performers) — brought me to that idea, from this week’s Torah portion, of needing to leave one stage in order to get to another. Of course, Mitchell’s reception and introduction in 2022 owes much to the strength of her long career and her personal hard road to physical recovery.
But this is not just a personal progression: We, as a society, had to leave the 1970s to get to later stages in the musical world and beyond. Watching the varied musicians collaborate with Mitchell through “Big Yellow Taxi” and the other numbers shared by Newport Folk Festival, I couldn’t help but think:
yes, often we don’t know what is lost til it’s gone; but sometimes, it’s a blessing to watch that taxi pull away.
Some background footage, FYI:
Here is some material from the film (inexpertly shared, complete with clutter from my den and an annoying lamp reflection):
Beginning: from early in the film — one of the few times we see the director — Martin Scorcese and Robertson talk about “The Last Waltz” concept
1:19 Robertson explains, backstage, that Ronnie Hawkins first hired him saying, “well, son, it doesn’t pay much, but you’ll get more pussy than Frank Sinatra.” This is spliced into the launch of Ronnie Hawkins’ performance on stage.
1:43 “Women on the Road,” as the scene is called on the DVD: backstage interview with band members. at 2:55 Levon Helm (1940-2012) offers “I thought you weren’t supposed to talk about it too much” — earning him my personal, undying gratitude from my teenage years onward. Rick Danko (1943-1999) says something about how “as we’ve grown, so have the women,” and Richard Manuel (1943-1986) just leers.
WARNING: Both Canadian and U.S. Confederate flags appear on the walls in this interview scene. (I don’t know enough about The Band to add any context beyond that they were Canadian born and did write songs about the U.S. South.)
clips from “The Last Waltz” shown, complete with the clutter in my den and annoying lamp reflection
This haphazard presentation of clips from “The Last Waltz” is fair use for purposes of review and discussion; it does not include the actual performance of “Coyote” from the 1978 documentary. The latter is widely available on YouTube, etc. in form that will be easier to enjoy — without violating copyright
L-R in still from 1978 Doc — so all in clothes popular at the time: Dr. John, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Rick Danko, Robbie Robertson on stage at The Last Waltz concert. Dr. John is wearing a baret and sunglasses, looking at distance. Joni is wearing a long-sleeve leotard-type top and lots of necklaces, looking a little annoyed and (accidentally?) facing the camera. Neil is wearing a t-shirt with an open workshirt over it, smiling in a buzzed kind of way, looking outside the frame. Rick and Robbie are looking down at their guitars, but only Rick’s guitar is visible; both are wearing long-sleeve button-down shirts.
There is no “man” or “woman” in the early part of Genesis, even after “the human” is created (twice). The first Torah portion, Breishit (Gen 1:1-6:8), read this week as the cycle begins again for the new year, gives two versions of humanity’s genesis. Neither one includes the word “ish” at the outset:
We are introduced to the earthling or the human in 1:26-27, and told ha-adam is in God’s image and male [zachar] and female [nekevah]. (Here are a few additional notes and translations for comparison.)
God crafts ha-adam from ha-adamah [“the earth” or maybe “arable land”] in Gen 2:7 (and ha-adam gets singular masculine grammar treatment).
We do not see the word “ish [man]” until after isha [woman] is created and recognized by ha-adam as “bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh” (Gen 2:23). Subsequently, we read of ha-adam and ha-isha or ishto, usually translated as “the man” and “the woman” or “his wife [literally: his woman].”
Just prior to this, God introduces the human to all the other creates that have been created, but —
…no fitting helper was found.
Gen 2:20
There was no helper appropriate, or corresponding or opposite, [k’negdo] to the human — what the King James Version called a “help-meet.”
Not sure the Genesis text actually supports this reading, but this week I am seeing Elton John as “ezer k’negdo” for Lil Nas X.
…There has been a great deal written, ancient and current and in between, about what these verses might imply about gender and about relationships of various kinds. And there are so many layers of gender and sexuality to be explored in discussing Lil Nas X or Elton John or Dolly Parton. But it’s almost Shabbat, and that’s not my area of expertise/primary experience, and this is meant to be just a short thought…
One of Me
Recently Lil Nas X released “One of Me.” It’s an important work on its own (full lyrics), and it’s important that Elton John is featured on the song. In addition, the two of them appear together in a video advertisement. (Usually my inclination is to suspect advertisers of capitalizing on pain, but in this case I applaud Uber Eats for providing this urgently needed creative space, whatever their motives. Video “One of Me” for Uber Eats.)
Watching the elder (b. 1947) stand so publicly with the younger (b. 1999) has an enormous power. (Especially for someone raised in a home where “shush” was the only permitted, and the most polite, thing to say about Elton John’s sexuality, and anyone who remembers when the public was not kind to him.)
Without making any claims as to how the actual individuals involved — Montero Lamar Hill and Reginald Dwight or their public alter egos — feel about this, I see Elton John as ezer k’negdo, that corresponding-helper, for Lil Nas X, an elder appearing “opposite” in a way that allows the younger to appear more clearly as himself…to the world at large, if not to himself. Seems especially poignant in relation to a song about how so many want him to be something else.
Could something like that be meant when ha-adam says —
At last! This time! Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh”
Gen 2:23
after first seeing ha-isha?
Not sure the text supports this, but also not sure in this instance how much I care about being exact: Is is possible that we all have the power to serve as ezer k’negdo to others? to use our own selves in positive ways to help others see themselves more fully?
Elton John in a Lil Nas X cowboy get up and Lil Nas X in Elton’s feathers. More than that would be very hard to describe. But if requested, I’ll search out a video description.
Full official video from Lil Nas X below
not going to try to provide a video description, but if requested will try to find one
Charity associated with this album — Central Alabama Alliance Resource & Advocacy Center — if you click through from the YouTube link there is a matching grant.
“Ooh sha sha, we’ve got to live together,” voices used to tell me, from under my pillow at night. “What the world needs now is love … love between my brothers and my sisters …everybody get together, smile on your brother.” They promised “change is gonna come” and an “answer blowin’ in the wind,” later asking: “What’s going on? …. War, what is it good for? (Good God, y’all) … Why can’t we be friends?”
Daily messages from my transistor and from people around me were very far removed from the language of “enemies” and “wicked” in the Book of Psalms.
I did not grow up among Bible readers or folks who relied on psalms for comfort or instruction. As I became a Bible reader and a Psalms reciter as an adult, I’ve struggled to reconcile all those years of “love everybody right now!” with some of the darker images in sacred text and prayer.
Once, a long while back, R’ Joel Alter launched a Jewish Study Center class I attended by saying that some people find it unhelpful to focus on enemies but that, for the purposes of that class (on the Book of Deuteronomy), we would not debate the topic: “Don’t tell me we don’t have enemies.” I don’t think I’d said anything myself about my problems with the concept of enemies in sacred text, but Joel’s comment definitely spoke right to me, and started to shift my perspective.
Nevertheless, I remain anxious about psalms that say things like, “a host encamps against me” (Ps. 27:4) or “let God’s enemies be scattered” (Ps. 68:2) or that speak of “the wicked,” rather than wickedness. (Beruria, who taught her husband, Rabbi Meir, to pray for an end to “sins” rather than “sinners,” is my hero!) After all: Who gets to declare someone wicked or enemy of God?
I do love some psalms and find them deeply moving. I enjoy studying psalms. I joyfully, or mournfully, as the occasion demands, add my voice when psalms are part of the liturgy. I recite psalms when someone is ill or in dire straits. Still, though, when the world around me seems especially threatening, I often prefer to lean on Bill Withers or let Sly and the Family Stone carry me away.
photo: Joe Haupt (image description, full credit below)
Recently, however, I’ve had my perspective shifted again by the psalm medleys of Adam Gottlieb and OneLove. In one recent example (“Duppy Medley, with Psalm 27, below), his translation and the musical context prepare me for lines like, “when armies come at me, my heart will hold.” I could try to explain why I think this works for me. Instead, I’ll just share the video and ask how this lands for you this Elul.
This link allows Spotify users to pre-save Psalm 1 Medley, which includes a fantastic minor key “Hammer Song.” No cost, just need a Spotify account.
Here is the Patreon page for Adam Gottlieb & OneLove. Becoming a patron gives access to the Psalm 1 Medley before the September 2 release date and lots of other content.
And, here, for some different forms of uplift:
Sly Stone’s “Everyday People,” brought to you by Turnaround Arts (school groups around the country);
“Everyday People,” Sly and the Family Stone 1968. “What the World Needs Now is Love,” Jackie DeShannon 1965. “The Hammer Song,” Martha and the Vandellas 1963 (Seeger and Hayes, 1949). “Get Together,” Youngbloods 1968. “A Change is Gonna Come,” Sam Cooke 1964. “Blowin’ in the Wind,” Bob Dylan 1962. “What’s Going On,” Marvin Gaye 1970. “War,” Edwin Starr, 1970. “Why can’t we be friends,” War 1975.
Rabbi Joel Alter was then a relatively recent graduate of the Jewish Theological Seminary and a regular teacher for DC’s cross-community Jewish Study Center after his day job in formal Jewish education. He is now a congregational rabbi in Milwaukee. Tagging him here with thanks and greetings.
There were once some highwaymen [or: hooligans] the neighbourhood of R. Meir who caused him a great deal of trouble. R. Meir accordingly prayed that they should die. His wife Beruria said to him: How do you make out [that such a prayer should be permitted]? Because it is written (Ps. 104:35): Let hatta’im cease? Is it written hot’im? It is written hatta’im! Further, look at the end of the verse: and let the wicked men be no more. Since the sins will cease, there will be no more wicked men! Rather pray for them that they should repent, and there will be no more wicked. He did pray for them, and they repented. — Soncino translation, Babylonian Berakhot 10a. For more on this story, see also this PDF from a psalms study class a few years back.
Image description: plastic rectangular transistor radio from the 1950s. Single dial and volume control. Photo: Joe Haupt via Wikimedia. License Attribution-Share Alike Creative Commons 2.0. Official name: “Vintage General Electric 5-Transistor Radio, Model 677 (Red), GE’s First Commercially Produced Transistor Radio, Made in the USA, Circa 1955.”
Video description: Musicians performing live in a small, possibly home-based (decidedly not fancy) studio. Guitarist/vocalist on one side; drummer, guitarist, and additional percussionist on the other side.
Seeking pieces of liturgy and other resources for uplift, as we try to move from the depths of Av to the new year, I’ve found myself returning again and again to “Eternal Light” — based on a line from the high holiday prayers — as composed by Norma Brooks and recorded by “Psalm Full of Soul” with guest artists The Blind Boys of Alabama (recording below).
Or Olam — Eternal Light
“Infinite light is preserved in life’s treasure-house; ‘Lights from darkness’ said God — it was so.” — from the piyyut “Or Olam“
“And the light of the moon shall become like the light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall become sevenfold, like the light of the seven days, when the LORD binds up His people’s wounds and heals the injuries it has suffered.” — Isaiah 30:26
These lines, from an ancient liturgical poem by Yose ben Yose (4th-5th Centuries CE) are added to the Yotzeir Or blessing on the High Holy Days. They refer to a Talmudic legend (Chagigah 12a) that the brilliant primordial light of Creation, too powerful for mortal eyes, was hidden away by God, and is preserved for the righteous in the world-to-come.
— liturgical verse and commentary from Mishkan Hanefesh for Rosh Hashanah (CCAR, 2015)
Each of us is a repository of life. We are where life is stored, and this eternal light rests inside each of us, waiting for us to manifest it with our actions. When we act justly, we bring this light into the world, answering God’s dictum, “Lights from the darkness!” When we help another, we bring the “it was so” into the present, an ongoing creation of light in darkness (R David Kominsky, b. 1971)
— commentary from Mishkan Hanefesh continued
The song, “Eternal Light,” is based on “Or Olam” and its commentary, as well as on Gen 1:3-5 and Isaiah 30:36 and 45:7. The same line appears in Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur liturgies (see p.178 in Mishkan Hanefesh for Yom Kippur, e.g.) Video here, with lyrics, is shared with kind permission of Norma Brooks, composer. Full credits below.
For more musical inspiration, including some pieces for the high holidays, check out Norma Brooks’ earlier album, Bountiful Light, created with the help of musicians and choir members from DC and beyond.
Image description: Video is basically one static pair of images overlaid throughout with the song lyrics. Image 1 is a photo of the eight performers at recording session: Blind Boys of Alabama with “Psalm Full of Soul,” that is, Vanessa R. Williams, Vince Evans, and Norma Brooks. Image 2 is the album cover showing Psalm Full of Soul logo and a picture of Vanessa, Vince, an Norma laughing together. Static text: “Psalm Full of Soul ‘Eternal Light.’ Composer: Norma Brooks. Vocal Soloist: Vanessa R. Williams. Featuring guest artists The Blind Boys of Alabama.” On top of the static graphic, lyrics appear in a text box as song progresses. (Lyrics can also be found below.)
“Eternal Light” lyrics (Norma Brooks)
Eternal, eternal light Source of life, source of life Light of creation, God’s living treasure O holy light, God’s holy light
Light from darkness Light from darkness God spoke, and it was so Light from darkness Light from darkness Creator of heaven and earth
Eternal, eternal light Source of life, source of life Light of creation, God’s living treasure O holy light, O holy light
O holy light, eternal light O holy light, eternal light
When the light of the moon Shall be as the light of the sun And the light of the sun Shall be sevenfold As the light of the seven days, Seven days of the week Oh, in the future There will be a more perfect light The light resides Within Each one of us, Just waiting for us Just waiting for us To act justly, to act with purity, Clarity and joy
The ongoing creation Of light from darkness O holy light, O holy light Eternal light, O holy light
Eternal, eternal light Source of life, source of life Light of creation, God’s living treasure O holy light, God’s holy light
Credits for “Eternal Light”
Guest Artists: The Blind Boys of Alabama (Jimmy Carter, Ben Moore, Joey Williams, Paul Beasley)
Vocal Soloist: Vanessa R. Williams
Keyboards: Vince Evans
Guitar: Alvin White
Bass: Bryan Fox
Drums: J.C. Jefferson
Choir: Rhonda Burnett Chapman, Byron Nichols, Michael White, Vanessa R. Williams
“Psalm Full of Soul” (c) 2008
UPDATE 9/22/21:Friends of Cantor Richard Kaplan share with sadness the news of his death on the first day of Sukkot 5782, 9/21/21.
This chant, which comes from Iraqi Jewish tradition, uses the phrase “Praise God, Servants of God” from Psalm 113:1 as a chorus and acrostic verses highlighting attributes of God: Mightiest of the mighty, Blessed among blessed, Greatest of the great…Guardian among guardians, Sustainer among sustainers. Here is a captioned version of the chant as presented in the 2000 “Tuning the Soul: Worlds of Jewish Sacred Music,” from Richard Kaplan & Michael Ziegler.
This video adapts, with permission, the one found on Kaplan’s YouTube channel by adding the lyrics with no other changes.
A note on teachers and transmission: I first learned the chant from Amy Smith and Bill Savedoff who taught it to Fabrangen Havurah for the high holidays years ago. Members of Fabrangen reported hearing the tune from a nearby synagogue when they were living in Jerusalem and helped our son share it during the service when he was bar mitzvah….again, years back. This video was prepared to share with Hill Havurah, 5781/2021. But a video with the fast-paced lyrics might be of use to many.
In the spirit of Av, spent some time exploring music for Psalm 137 and share here some of the links, with related notes scheduled for next week. We plan to discuss some of these pieces and their backgrounds, as well much more about the psalm, at Psalms Study Group at Temple Micah (DC). All are welcome. Come if you’re in the neighborhood, Tuesday, August 20, 1:30 – 3 p.m.
Meanwhile, some music for the season:
From “Bible Songs”
Paul Robeson singing Dvorak‘s setting for Psalm 137:1-5.
To help in following this, here is a Czech translation of Psalm 137 from BibleHub.com:
1) Při řekách Babylonských tam jsme sedávali, a plakávali, rozpomínajíce se na Sion.
2) Na vrbí v té zemi zavěšovali jsme citary své.
3) A když se tam dotazovali nás ti, kteříž nás zajali, na slova písničky, (ješto jsme zavěsili byli veselí), říkajíce: Zpívejte nám některou píseň Sionskou:
4) Kterakž bychom měli zpívati píseň Hospodinovu v zemi cizozemců?
5) Jestliže se zapomenu na tebe, ó Jeruzaléme, zapomeniž i pravice má….
Rivers of Babylon
The Melodians “Rivers of Babylon”
1970, Composer credit: Brent Dowe (1949-2006) and Trevor McNaughton (1940-2018); more next page.
Jimmy Cliff (Melodians’) “Rivers of Babylon” (“Rivers” starts at 2:56)
Returning to the music of “Wordless Verses,” the melody Benshimon shares is one of those created by Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach for the psalm.
There is a straightforward rendering of the chant posted on Zemirot Database. Its melody, used in many congregations and other settings, focuses on two lines of Psalm 30, verses 9 and 11, usually translated as something like “To you, God, I call, and to God I will plead. Hear, O God, and have mercy on me, be a help to me!”
This translation, from Siddur Eit Ratzon, is intended to be “sung to the same melody” — no information about which melody that is, but the translation does seem to scan with this particular, popular tune:
אֵלֶיךָ יְהוָה אֶקְרָא; וְאֶל-אֲדֹנָי, אֶתְחַנָּן Elecha HASHEM ekra; v’el adonai et-chanan
It is to You that I cried out,
it is to You I did appeal — v.9
שְׁמַע-יְהוָה וְחָנֵּנִי; יְהוָה, הֱיֵה-עֹזֵר לִי. Sh’ma HASHEM v’choneini; HASHEM heyeih ozer li
Hear me, HASHEM, show me Your light, [be gracious]
please help me draw from Your strength — v.11
Note: “Show me Your light,” although it works with the chant, is an unusual interpretation of what is more commonly rendered, “be gracious to me.”
Calling and Response
“Three Israelis in Phoenix Arizona” recorded at this version at Fiddler’s Dream Coffeehouse. You can hear a little of the call-and-response that many congregations employ with this chant.
In Making Prayer Real, Rabbi Nehemia Polen writes:
…The Baal Shem Tov taught his students that every prayer is answered immediately. It’s reported that his students raised their eyebrows, so it’s not as if people are crazy or stupid, but he insisted, yes, every prayer is answered the instant it is uttered. That is the moment.
What we really want always is intimacy–with God, however I understand God; with other human beings; with the universe; with my own deep self. And when I do this, I feel that intimacy immediately, and that’s “yes.” That’s “yes.”
–p.89 (full citation at Source Materials)
By allowing us to “cry out,” and so be answered, the chant, “Elecha HASHEM Ekra — It is to You that I cried out,” is one way that the Baal Shem Tov’s teaching comes to life.
The “Three Israelis” — identified as “Oren, Ronen, and Ari” in the video — demonstrate another way the chant works in terms of the teaching above: A leader, often with more voices joining in support, calls out, and then others in the room call out, too, separately —
Voice set 1: Elecha — It is to You Voice set 2: Elecha — It is to You
This is repeated with the second phrase of the verse —
Voice set 1: HASHEM ekra — I cried out Voice set 1: HASHEM ekra — I cried out
Finally all join together in closing out the verse —
Together: V’el Adonai et-chanan — it is to You I did appeal
Similarly with verse 11:
Voice set 1: Sh’ma HASHEM — Hear me, O God Voice set 2: Sh’ma HASHEM — Hear me, O God Voice set 1: v’choneini — Show me Your Light (be gracious to me) Voice set 2: v’choneini — Show me Your Light (be gracious to me) Together: HASHEM heyeih ozer li — please help me draw from Your strength
Chanting separately and together, we offer and receive some of the human connection Rabbi Polen suggests is part of the way prayer is answered.
14 of 30 on Psalm 30
As a National Novel Writing Month Rebel, I write each day of November while not aiming to produce a novel. This year I focus on Psalm 30 (“Thirty on Psalm 30”) in the hope that its powerful language will help us through these days of turmoil and toward something new, stronger and more joyful, as individuals and as community. Whole series (so far)…. apologies to anyone who finds multiple-post days too much.
NOTE
Wikipedia has a nice summary of Shlomo Carlebach’s life and work, including controversy about his approach to outreach as well as accusations of sexual impropriety. A quotation from the rabbi’s daughter, Neshama Carlebach, says: “I accept the fullness of who my father was, flaws and all. I am angry with him. And I refuse to see his faults as the totality of who he was.” (“My Sisters I Hear You,” in Times of Israel January 2018).
A few posts back, I shared a thought from Making Prayer Real on the idea of music as “prayer in itself, without the words attached” (Wordless Verses“) along with a largely instrumental piece based on a tune for few verses from Psalm 30. More on that specific tune to come. Meanwhile, here is a contrasting approach, seeking to render every word and the sound of the psalm.
“The SHIYR Poets (pronounced “Sheer” not “Shire”)” have been working together for several years to “render the Psalms as sung English poetry.” They are Brian Doerksen, Calum Rees, Brian Thiessen and Teresa Trask.
This is how The SHIYR Poets describe their enterprise:
Using all the translations available (including Robert Alter’s more poetic translation) and seeking counsel from Hebrew scholars, the SHIYR Poets are paraphrasing the Psalms and setting them to modern folk-rock tunes.
Choosing not to censor the difficult verses of lament and anger, the SHIYR Poets render each psalm in its entirety, singing in solidarity with all who suffer. The result is raw yet meditative music, at times unconventional in its form, yet deeply comforting because every generation has prayed and pondered the words of these Psalms.
Taken as a whole, the Psalms are perhaps the most emotionally healthy comprehensive expression of spirituality ever written. These are songs of desire and desperation…songs that demand justice for the oppressed…songs that honour the innocent praise of children…songs about everyday things like sleep.
Their version of Psalm 30 adds a chorus and includes interesting poetic versions of some verses. One favorite:
When you looked away; I fell apart
Broken into pieces; I crumbled into pieces
When you turned away, I fell apart
— Just listen, above, or click through to YouTube to see The SHIYR Poets’ translation
13 of 30 on Psalm 30
As a National Novel Writing Month Rebel, I write each day of November while not aiming to produce a novel. This year I focus on Psalm 30 (“Thirty on Psalm 30”) in the hope that its powerful language will help us through these days of turmoil and toward something new, stronger and more joyful, as individuals and as community. Whole series (so far).
“Music touches us in a place that’s beyond the rational mind,” writes Rabbi Naomi Levy, “and it reaches into the heart.” She continues:
It is the language of the soul. We’ve all had the experience of knowing how a piece of music is a prayer in itself, without the words attached. We can pray through the music itself.
— in Making Prayer Real by Rabbi Mike Comins, p.72 (details)
This quote comes in a chapter on “Engaging the Body.” Comins counts music and chant as methods for approaching mochin d’gadlut [expanded consciousness] — “the open, mature, listening, caring state of awareness that is considered in itself an experience of divine presence,” opposed to mochin d’katnut [small consciousness] of self-occupation and self-interest (ibid p.250).
In the same chapter, Rabbi Diane Elliot says:
When I take the time to work with a word or a phrase — chanting it in my own time, rolling it around in my mouth, and letting it move through my whole body — then when I say the phrase quickly, all of that backstory is there for me. It can move me into a stream of consciousness.
— ibid, p.74
In the spirit of both ideas — the power of music alone, and the power of backstory — I share this musical piece, which is wordless until 2:51. For those who recognize the tune, the instrumental section will likely have a “backstory” of some kind; for others, especially those who do not know Hebrew, perhaps the listening (prayer) experience will be quite different.
If anyone would like to share their impressions of the music, as music alone and/or as a meditation on Psalm 30, please either include in the comments or write separately to songeveryday at gmail.
More to come on this particular tune, as well as more on music and Psalm 30.
10 of 30 on Psalm 30
As a National Novel Writing Month Rebel, I write each day of November while not aiming to produce a novel. This year I focus on Psalm 30 (“Thirty on Psalm 30”) in the hope that its powerful language will help us through these days of turmoil and toward something new, stronger and more joyful, as individuals and as community. Whole series (so far)…apologies for multiple-post days as my blog catches up with my notes.
Making Prayer Real: Leading Jewish Spiritual Voices on Why Prayer is Difficult and What to Do About It by Rabbi Mike Comins (Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights, 2010). More about the book and Rabbi Comins’ teaching at Making Prayer Real website.
"A Song Every Day" 