Uncategorized
How an Amish Mennonite school in Arkansas went viral with a song by an Orthodox Jew
Last month, Jewish social media was buzzing over a video of a choir singing the popular 2018 song “Tatty, My King,” composed by Dovid Edell, a former student of an Orthodox high school for boys in Waterbury, Conn. Normally, another rendition of a popular Jewish song wouldn’t cause such a stir, but the singers in this case weren’t the typical yeshiva grads of the Maccabeats; they were a co-ed a cappella choir of Amish Mennonite students from the tiny Calvary Bible School in Calico Rock, Arkansas.
Jewish viewers mostly expressed delight — “the Youtube algorithm is probably going crazy right now — frum people watching Calvary bible school,” one commenter put it, topping it off with a typed happy face — with only the occasional disgruntled remark about kol isha, the religious prohibition against men hearing women sing.
Curious about this rather unlikely collaboration, I called up Gabriel Jantzi, a self-described “amateur” musician who directed the choir, to ask about his introduction to Edell’s tune, how the project unfolded, and the choir’s surprising moment of minor fame in the Orthodox world.
Can you tell me a little bit about your background?
I’m 41 years old. I went to university for medicine, but I also really liked music. So I studied music, but I didn’t even minor in it, and I ended up as a veterinarian. [In the ensuing years] I have directed church choirs, and I directed my university choir for a year, and so that has been part of my life for the last 25 years. But it’s not like I have a master’s degree in choral composition or conducting.
I am a full-time farm and country vet in Ontario, Canada, and that’s what I do. This is a slow season in January and February, so it’s very convenient to take off time and do something that I really care about. So I’m also a pastor in a local conservative Mennonite church. I take great pleasure and derive a lot of energy out of working with young people who are interested in following God.
What’s your relationship to the Calvary Bible School?
I was a student there 20 years ago. Probably since its inception in the 70s, it’s been a destination for Beachy Amish Mennonite youth between the ages of 18 and 20 who want to dedicate time to study how to live a life that’s pleasing to God.
There are a lot of different names for all the different stripes of Mennonite. I grew up in the Amish Mennonite tradition. I got married, I moved a little bit. I ended up in a tiny bit different stripe. But at least in our communities, it’s not a big issue for me to go back to that tradition and say, here I am, what can I bring and what can I offer? So technically I’m not exactly the same stripe as the school, but I grew up in that stripe, if that makes sense.
I think the concept of moving a little bit along denominational lines, or even to sort of different expressions of one’s faith, would be quite familiar to many Jews.
I think that there are striking similarities between our communities here.
I think a lot of people understand who the Amish are and they understand who Mennonites are, but can you explain what an “Amish Mennonite” is? I know these boundaries can be fluid.
The Beachy Amish Mennonites care about traditions; we’re not throwing them out just because we want to move forward in a certain progressive way. Yet we are much more open to technology than what we call the Old Order Amish or Old Order Mennonite groups. When we use the term “Old Order,” we’re referring specifically to those groups that have said, “We’re going to welcome technology up until the 1800s or the early 1900s, and we’re going to maintain the horse and buggy style of life and so on.” [But Amish Mennonites] said, “No, we’re not actually against technology, we’re just hesitant to adopt everything new without testing it.” We care about probably many of the same traditional values that [Old Order groups] would, such as community and our church. And also just like they do, we put a great emphasis on our religion being a very practical religion. So it’s lived out in such a way that you can look at us and say, oh, they must have some reasons behind living a certain way.

How did you first come across this song, and what made you want to arrange it?
Anabaptists have a strong tradition of a cappella music, men and women singing together without the aid of instruments. We care very much about that: Every time we get together for a worship service, that’s how we sing.
We came across an a cappella cover of this song by Benny Friedman on Spotify and that really resonated with us. Not me personally, but some of these kids [in the choir] would actually be from a congregation that’s set limitations that you’re not even supposed to listen to instrumental music, so they could listen to this song.
And so they brought it to me last year at the Bible school and said, “Do you know this song?” And I said, “No, I’ve never heard of it.” I listened to it a bunch more and I realized why they liked it. It talks about some very universal questions that any kid who’s grown up in a tradition with God will have: Where are you? I’m told I need to come talk to you, but I don’t really want to. And as my relationship with God matures, it kind of develops into this realization that actually He’s been covering my back all this time and I never realized, so I really do want to stay on God’s team. Whether you’re an Orthodox Jew or you’re a conservative Mennonite, either way, as your relationship with God matures, those words really resonate and that progression really comes through in the song. So I thought, and my wife thought as well, that I should lead this song next year for these kids.
I have often taken music and arranged it to fit an a cappella group, and for some reason I just was not filled with any profound inspiration on how to do that for this song. So I asked a friend of mine named Wendell Glick [to arrange it.] He is a professional musician, he’s got a PhD in composition, he does this for a living. He’s also from [an Anabaptist] background, and led this choir for seven years before I did. So he knows this choir, which means he knows how to write music that stretches them just the right amount so that they do a good job of it. I really want to praise him for that.
He did a great job.
It worked for us. We’re only together for two and a half weeks, and we’re not professional musicians. Also, this choir is mandatory. That means 60% of the kids want to be there, 20% are OK with it, and 20% don’t like singing and they still have to be there. Actually, you can see [in the video recording] some of them are really feeling it and others are zoned out. And that’s OK!
For the first week [of practicing], we didn’t really like it. We’ve been very tainted by mainstream Christianity’s Protestant music that came in the 1850s, [whereas] this song has just a touch of minor key. It comes from a different culture, not quite what our mental ear hears. It took us a bit of time to get into it, but by the second week this was without a doubt the favorite song of my repertoire. Then at our local or in-house concerts, the audience just absolutely loved it. And when I say that, it’s not like we got a standing ovation; to us the highest compliment is when somebody says, “It made me worship God.” And those are the compliments we began hearing.
Did you ever have any interactions with Dovid Edell, who wrote the song?
Yes, I did. When I take a song, I make sure it’s licensed for use. I understand [Edell] had to get permission or talk with some rabbis to see whether it would be appropriate. And so he talked to the rabbis and then he called me up and I spoke to him about who wanted to sing it and I explained that the youth are all Christian. He was very nice about it and he said, “Just let them know that this was my conversation with God. It’s a personal song.” And I said, “That’s the basis on which it resonates with us as well.” He was gracious and let us use it.
Then when I was actually working with the students, I also communicated back to Dovid because he said, basically, “I have a few messages I want you to directly convey to the students.” Which made it very personal. Gen-Z loves to have some personal connection, right? When they perform a song, they love to have some personal connection to the composer. And that just made it for them. That was amazing.
Did you get any negative reactions?
I’m assuming — and I say this with respect because we also understand some of the traditions from the Torah — that some people found it offensive, that it’s a mix. Forgive me if I’m mispronouncing it, but I had never come across the kol isha idea so I was a bit sheepish that I walked into something without doing my research very well.
One of the things I care about is that people worry about pronunciation when they sing another language. One of my negatives is I did not ask Dovid how to pronounce “tatty.” I just kind of ran with it. In the future, I would probably be a little more careful about asking the original composer whether he wanted a certain emphasis and a pronunciation of certain words.
Did you realize how popular the video had become in the Orthodox world?
The lovely thing is the conductor is not mentioned in that video and you just see his back. So fortunately, from my viewpoint, very few people know who I am. If there’s any publicity here, I’m glad that the school gets it, because the school is blatantly about the glory of God. And to use a phrase that Dovid would have said, he just wants to spread light. So I want that to be the focus.
We read the comments, and I think I’d have two words to describe our reaction: First is delight, and second, we’re honored. We blatantly are Christians, not Jews, so we come at this and say this is a part of our maturity process to learn more about God’s son. But that being said, the song itself doesn’t speak whatsoever about the Messiah, it only talks about the relationship with God. And to us, it 110% resonated, just like it did for your community, so we are grateful that we could participate.
We care a lot about this school, but we understand it’s very arcane. All of 83 students were there this past term. Not many people know about it. So it was quite a thing that another community is interested in what we’re doing. But we also acknowledge that the song that we are singing is from that community. So yeah, it was kind of a good circle.
Did you have much familiarity with Jews and Judaism before this? Have you learned more about it through this experience?
Yes, we would have some familiarity. I hope I’m not coming across as cocky, but because we study Judaism, I think we actually have a bit more familiarity with Judaism than I think from what I read in the comments than they’d ever have with us. There are a lot of comments that were like, “Where did you get this song?” Well, guys, you put it on Spotify! But if you assume we’re all Old Order Amish that drive horse and buggy and don’t have Internet, then I can understand those questions. So I think we have some knowledge, although I had no idea about things like kol isha. Also, it was a surprise to all of us how much our performance of your song resonated with your community. I’m still not sure why.
I can think of two possibilities. One is that it’s just a very beautiful rendition, so it’s hard to imagine not being moved by it. But I also think Jews are often happily surprised to see a group of non-Jews embrace or respect a piece of Jewish culture, particularly Orthodox culture. A lot of the time, people anticipate negativity.
Well, that’s very nice of you to say. Those words really make me feel fuzzy and warm inside. We have great respect for your culture. We think God brought the Messiah through your people. I realize that differs from the understanding of many people who wrote comments, but we have profound appreciation and love for your people.
We understand that we are the white Christians and Christians have had thousands and thousands of years of fighting with the Jews. So I know it’s hard to say, “Well, we’re not like that.” But I think I can speak for all Anabaptists and say we would strongly differentiate ourselves and say no, one of our fundamental professions or distinctions is this idea of love for all man. In fact, we won’t even go to war because we love people. Again, it comes back to we are honored that you let us use it. We were tickled pink and I’ll be keeping my eyes open for other songs that I think could be used.
The post How an Amish Mennonite school in Arkansas went viral with a song by an Orthodox Jew appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
New documentary captures the lively history of Yiddish theater in America
The new documentary Immigrant Songs: Yiddish Theater and the American Jewish Experience, produced by the Milken Archive of Jewish Music, is fast, entertaining and a good introduction to the topic.
Focusing mainly on the musical side of the story, but covering ‘straight plays’ as well, the film opens with a superb ‘warm-up act’: “Hu Tsa Tsa,” a stock Yiddish vaudeville number performed by the widely mourned Bruce Adler, who died in 2008 at age 63. Bursting with charm and talent, Adler, scion of a top Yiddish vaudeville family, demonstrates that Yiddish theater used to be pretty damned lively.
What follows is the oft-told story of the rise and decline of the American Yiddish theater, beginning with its prehistory in the Purimshpiels — the annual performances that for centuries served as the only secular entertainment in the Ashkenazic world. From there the film takes us to Yiddish theater’s 1876 birth in Romania, courtesy of Avrom Goldfadn, a.k.a. “The Father of Yiddish Theater.”
The film also describes Yiddish theater’s arrival in America, which, thanks to massive Jewish immigration, quickly became its capital. We learn of its influence on American theater’s styles of acting and set design. And the film describes the decline of its audience, due to assimilation and the immigration quotas of the 1920s.
There’s an excellent section on “The Big Four” Yiddish theater composers — Joseph Rumshinsky, Alexander Olshanetsky, Abe Ellstein, and Sholom Secunda. All in all, the documentary does a fine job of teaching the aleph-beyz, the ABCs, of the history of Yiddish theater to the uninitiated.
The most impressive aspect of Immigrant Songs is its well-crafted pace. Though there are a few snippets of vintage Yiddish cinema (Yiddish theater’s “kid brother”), most of the film consists of recent concert footage, some well-selected photographs and ephemera, and a lot of talking heads. Almost every prominent Yiddish theater historian was interviewed for it, along with several musicologists, an archivist, Yiddish actors, directors, producers, etc. (Full disclosure: I am one of them.) Director Jeff Janeczko cuts between the interviewees so smoothly — sometimes in mid-sentence — that it feels like they’re in the same room and feeding off each other’s energy. The movie just flies by.
There are a few errors. Marc Chagall is described as an important designer of Yiddish theater; actually he designed one minor production in Russia in 1921, and never did another. In a bizarre, and biblically illiterate, statement, one interviewee claims that Jews hadn’t developed a theater culture earlier because the Second Commandment’s prohibition of “graven images” forbade the construction of sets. (Actually it’s about idol worship.)
Another interviewee claims that the Yiddish play Der Yeshiva Bokher; oder, Der Yudisher Hamlet — The Yeshiva Student; or, The Jewish Hamlet (Yiddish plays then often had subtitles), is closely patterned on Shakespeare’s tragedy. In truth, the play — written by Isidore Zolotarevski, the prolific writer of shund (“trash”) melodramas — is not only awful, but is as close to Shakespeare as baked ham is to your grandmother’s kreplach.
The film’s biggest fault, however, is its short running time (45 minutes). This is a rich topic, and too much is left by the wayside in the interest of brevity. There’s nothing about what shund melodramas felt like, why they appealed to their audiences, and why they became the only thing a lot of people know about Yiddish theater.
There’s also nothing about the World War I-era wave of shtetl plays, which reflected immigrants’ homesickness without indulging in nostalgia, and provided some of Yiddish theater’s shining moments with plays like Green Fields, The Empty Inn and Tevye. And the most important play in the Yiddish canon, The Dybbuk, is never mentioned.
Perhaps most surprisingly, considering the film’s emphasis on music, there is no examination of Yiddish theater’s influence on Broadway’s music. (Cole Porter — ironically, the only gentile among the major composers of Broadway’s Golden Age — had a pronounced Jewish lilt in a number of his songs, and he actually attended Yiddish theater regularly.)
The film’s last section is about the renewed interest in Yiddish that began in the 1970s and ’80s with the klezmer revival. Much of it focuses on the 2018 Yiddish production of Fiddler on the Roof in Yiddish, whose success was predetermined the moment the production was announced.
For the overwhelming majority of American Jews, from the Orthodox to the unaffiliated, Fiddler is all they know about the lives of their ancestors. And though it’s a world-class piece of musical theater, as a work of social history Fiddler is as phony as a glass eye. Nevertheless, for American Jews it’s a sacred text.
Fiddler was a huge hit, but it was a gimmick, a one-off, whose success does very little for the future of Yiddish theater. Worse, the Yiddish — not the text, but the lines spoken by most of the actors — was often mispronounced and had the wrong intonation. (One elderly gentleman of my acquaintance, a native Yiddish speaker from Czechoslovakia, told me he didn’t understand a word the actors said, and spent the whole evening reading the English supertitles.)
What follows the Fiddler section in Immigrant Songs is mostly bromides. But the best current Yiddish theater reflects the kind of fresh thinking that keeps the form alive.
An occasional well-presented museum piece, like the Folksbiene’s 2016 revival of Rumshinsky’s operetta The Golden Bride, is a very worthwhile project (though it, too, suffered from poorly spoken Yiddish). But the most dynamic contemporary Yiddish theater is, in Jeffrey Shandler’s apt phrase, “post vernacular” — i .e., the use of Yiddish is self-conscious, a deliberate choice rather than something that’s done automatically, as it would have been a century ago when there were a lot more Yiddish speakers in the world.
An example of this is the 2017 neo-realist film Menashe, which could far more easily and conventionally have been made in English. Or a well-known piece done in Yiddish translation, like Shane Baker’s stunning Yiddish translation of Waiting for Godot, can become something much more valuable than a mere stunt. The Yiddish version, under Moshe Yassur’s straightforward direction, humanized the play, stripping it of the encrusted pretentiousness that had hidden its soul. (When it was presented in the International Samuel Beckett Festival in Ireland, multiple audience members approached the cast afterwards with the same reaction: “I don’t speak a word of Yiddish. But I’ve seen Godot five or six times, and this is the first time I understood it.”)
There’s a lot to be learned from Immigrant Songs. If you find yourself hungry for more, you couldn’t do better than to seek out YIVO’s online Yiddish theater course “Oh, Mama, I’m in Love!” But by all means, start with Immigrant Songs. It’s a very entertaining and informative appetizer.
The post New documentary captures the lively history of Yiddish theater in America appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
UK PM Starmer Says There Could Be New Powers to Ban Pro-Palestinian Marches
British Prime Minister Keir Starmer gives a media statement at Downing Street in London, Britain, April 30, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Jack Taylor/File photo
British Prime Minister Keir Starmer said the government could ban pro-Palestinian marches in some circumstances because of the “cumulative effect” the demonstrations had on the Jewish community after two Jewish men were stabbed in London on Wednesday.
Starmer told the BBC that he would always defend freedom of expression and peaceful protest, but chants like “Globalize the Intifada” during demonstrations were “completely off limits” and those voicing them should be prosecuted.
Pro-Palestinian marches have become a regular feature in London since the October 2023 attack by Hamas on Israel that triggered the Gaza war. Critics say the demonstrations have generated hostility and become a focus for antisemitism.
Protesters have argued they are exercising their democratic right to spotlight ongoing human rights and political issues related to the situation in Gaza.
Starmer said he was not denying there were “very strong legitimate views about the Middle East, about Gaza,” but many people in the Jewish community had told him they were concerned about the repeat nature of the marches.
Asked if the tougher response should focus on chants and banners, or whether the protests should be stopped altogether, Starmer said: “I think certainly the first, and I think there are instances for the latter.”
“I think it’s time to look across the board at protests and the cumulative effect,” he said, adding that the government needed to look at what further powers it could take.
Britain raised its terrorism threat level to “severe” on Thursday amid mounting security concerns that foreign states were helping fuel violence, including against the Jewish community.
“We are seeing an elevated threat to Jewish and Israeli individuals and institutions in the UK,” the head of counter-terrorism policing, Laurence Taylor, said in a statement, adding that police were also working “against an unpredictable global situation that has consequences closer to home, including physical threats by state-linked actors.”
Uncategorized
War Likely to Resume After Trump’s Rejection of Latest Proposal, Says IRGC General
Iranians carry a model of a missile during a celebration following an IRGC attack on Israel, in Tehran, Iran, April 15, 2024. Photo: Majid Asgaripour/WANA (West Asia News Agency) via REUTERS
i24 News – A senior Iranian military figure said that fighting with the US was “likely” to resume after President Donald Trump stated he was dissatisfied with Tehran’s latest proposal, regime media reported on Saturday.
The comments of General Mohammad Jafar Asadi, one of the top Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) commanders, were relayed by the Fars news agency, considered as a mouthpiece of the the powerful paramilitary body.
“Evidence has shown that the Americans do not not adhere to any commitments,” Asadi was quoted as saying.
He further added that Washington’s decision-making was “primarily media-driven aimed first at preventing a drop in oil prices and second at extricating themselves from the mess they have created.”
Iranian armed forces are ready “for any new adventures or foolishness from the Americans,” he said, going to assert that the Iran war would prove for the US a tragedy comparable with what was for Israel the October 7 massacre.
“Just as our martyred Leader said that the Zionist regime will never be the same as before the Al‑Aqsa Storm operation [the name chosen by Hamas leadership for the October 7, 2023 massacre in southern Israel], the United States will also never return to what it was before its attack on Iran,” he said. “The world has understood the true nature of America, and no matter how much malice it shows now, it is no longer the America that many once feared.”
