Beyond the Music

Photo by Ian Schneider on Unsplash Long before it was the name of a computer programming tool, the word “maven” derived from the Hebrew מֵבִין (may-VEEN), meaning “one who understands.” It was often used laconic rabbis in the sententious phrase “hameivin yavin” — roughly — if you get it, you get it.” Over the centuries, the word maven passed into Yiddish to indicate a sort of folk expert — a reliable connoisseur who accumulated knowledge in a certain area.

Conspiracy theories are all the rage nowadays. The rise of extremist politics and online culture have encouraged more and more trafficking in this responsibility-jettisoning practice which allows us to spin tales about forces beyond our control. Such magical thinking is the tragically normal result of human pattern perception —”our brain’s tendency to connect the dots, even when those dots are unrelated. It’s an ancient survival tool which helped our ancestors avoid predators.

Photo by Warren Umoh on Unsplash Over the past few months, I have been in hot pursuit of the unsung heroes behind our beloved synagogue melodies. This is in no small part because I have been working on a major article for publication entitled “Where the Tunes Come From: The Conservative Movement’s Musical DNA” which sources the musical genealogies of worship tunes from across the movement.

The traditional Ashkenazi service is often recited often at great speed. While there is great truth to this shamanic form of prayerful incantation, it can leave one with less time to dwell on the profound meanings of these centuries-distilled religious poems. When I teach cantors and prayer leaders, I often compare davening to the art of throwing pizza dough: Sometimes you’re just moving text — with prayerful intention but not with a meditative focus on each and every word.

This past Shabbat was Parashat Korach (Numbers 16-18). In this episode of the Israelite’s wilderness journey, Korach and his gang of ambitious levites arise to challenge Moshe’s authority — and are dramatically swallowed up by the Earth itself. This always sounds a little harsh at first glance, like Jabba the Hut throwing his political opponents into the Sarlacc pit. But in the Torah, it’s part of a gradually metastasizing story of lashon hara — the misuse of speech.

The author with many cantors post-performance (Photo: Marina Shemesh) Last week, I returned from the annual convention of the Cantors Assembly. So nu, what happens when cantors assemble?

All of our synagogue tunes are just old German beer songs, right? Many times have I fielded this quarrelsome query. Often it comes from those winking at the perceived promiscuity of Jewish music as it swings between sacred and secular realms, claiming it to be the true inheritance of the id and its impish desires. Such parties are wont to rationalize their own penchants for liturgical parody, like the regular abuse of adon olam with transgressive pop tunes.

Ragtime, Exodus, and an Old Sermon Just like that tune, Simple and clear, I've come to hear New music— Breaking my heart, Opening a door, Changing the world, New music— I'll hear it forevermore. Last week, I attended a superb production of Stephen Flaherty’s musical, Ragtime, performed by a cast of elite high school thespians.

An Indy Perspective on Orality and Jewish Music caption... I love discovering where Jewish music comes from. Such knowledge gives one the thrill of the academic chase and fascinating stories to tell, as well as the comfort of knowing one’s inheritance better. But it also reveals that music — along with religions and people — is not a static entity, carved onto tablets at Sinai and commanded in perpetuity.

Portrait of Maimonides at Haifa Medical Center () The medieval scholar Moshe ben Maimon (d. 1204), known also as Maimonides, still looms over Jewish law, scholarship, and culture a full millennium following his death. His ingenious and prolific writings as a philosopher, jurist, ethicist, medical doctor, commentator, and rabbi have led contemporary scholars to read him from widely different perspectives.