Uncategorized
The hora, the hora! How Jewish wedding music got that way
(JTA) — When my wife and I were planning our wedding, we thought it might be cool to hire a klezmer band. This was during the first wave of the klezmer revival, when groups like The Klezmatics and The Klezmer Conservatory Band were rediscovering the genre of Jewish wedding music popular for centuries in Yiddish-speaking Eastern Europe.
Of course we also wanted to dance to rock ‘n’ roll and needed musicians who could handle Sinatra for our parents’ benefit, so we went with a more typical wedding band. Modernity won out over tradition.
Or did it? Musician and musicologist Uri Schreter argues that the music heard at American Jewish weddings since the 1950s has become a tradition all its own, especially in the way Old World traditions coexist with contemporary pop. In a dissertation he is writing about the politics of Jewish music in the early postwar period, Schreter argues that American Jewish musical traditions — especially among secularized Conservative and Reform Jews — reflect events happening outside the wedding hall, including the Holocaust, the creation of Israel and the rapid assimilation of American Jews.
That will be the subject of a talk he’ll be giving Monday for YIVO, titled “Yiddish to the Core: Wedding Music and Jewish Identity in Postwar New York City.”
Because it’s June — and because I’m busy planning a wedding for one of my kids one year from now — I wanted to speak to Schreter about Jewish weddings and how they got that way. Our Zoom conversation Wednesday touched on the indestructibility of the hora, the role of musicians as “secular clergy” and why my Ashkenazi parents danced the cha-cha-cha.
Born in Tel Aviv, Schreter is pursuing his PhD in historical musicology at Harvard University. He is a composer, pianist and film editor.
Our conversation was edited for length and clarity.
I was struck by your research because we’re helping to plan a child’s wedding now. It’s the first wedding we’ve planned since our own, and we’re still asking the same questions, like, you’ve got to make sure the band can handle the hora and the Motown set and, I don’t know, “Uptown Funk.” Your research explores when that began — when American Jewish weddings began to combine the traditional and secular cultures.
In the period that I’m talking about, post-World War II America, this is already a fact of life for musicians. A lot of my work is based on interviews with musicians from that period, folks now in their 80s and 90s. The oldest one I have started playing professionally in 1947 or ’48. Popular American music was played at Jewish weddings as early as the 1930s, but it’s a question of proportion — how much the wedding would feature foxtrots and swing and Lindy Hop and other popular dance tunes of the day, and how much of it is going to be klezmer music.
In the postwar period, most of the [non-Orthodox] American Jewish weddings would have featured American pop. For musicians who wanted to be in what they called the “club date” business, they needed to be able to do all these things. And some “offices” — a term they used for a business that books wedding bands — would have specialists that they could call on to do a Jewish wedding.
You’re writing about a period when the Conservative movement becomes the dominant American Jewish denomination. They have one foot in tradition, and the other in modernity. What does a wedding look like in 1958 when they’re building the big suburban synagogues?
The difference is not so much denominational but between the wide spectrum of Orthodoxy and the diverse spectrum of what I describe as “secular.”
Meaning non-Orthodox — Reform, Conservative, etc.?
Right. Only in the sense that they are broadly speaking more secular than the Orthodox. And if so they are going to have, for the most part, one, maybe two sets of Jewish dance music — basically a medley of a few Jewish tunes. You might have a wedding where it could be a quarter of the music or even half would be Jewish music, but this would be for families that have a much stronger degree of attachment to traditional Jewish culture, and primarily Yiddish culture.
There’s a few interrelated elements that shape this. Class is an important thing. For lower class communities in some areas, and I am talking primarily about New York, you’d have communities that are a little bit more secluded, probably speaking more Yiddish at home and hanging out more with other Jewish people from similar backgrounds. So these kinds of communities might have as much as a third or half of the music be Jewish, even though they consider themselves secular. It’s actually very similar to an Orthodox wedding, where you might also have half and half [Jewish and “American” music].
Jews in the higher socioeconomic class might, in general, be more Americanized, and want to project a more mainstream American identity. They might have as little as five minutes of Jewish music, just to mark it that they did this. Still, it’s very important for almost all of them to have those five minutes — because it’s one of the things that makes the wedding Jewish. I interviewed couples that were getting married in the ’50s, and a lot of them told me, “You need to have Jewish dance music for this to be a Jewish wedding.”
Composer and pianist Uri Schreter is pursuing his PhD in historical musicology at Harvard University. (Nicole Loeb)
When I was growing up in the 1970s at a suburban Reform synagogue on Long Island, klezmer was never spoken about. I don’t know any parents who owned klezmer albums. Then when I got married a decade later, it was in the middle of the klezmer revival. Am I right about that? Were the ’50s and ’60s fallow periods for klezmer?
You’re definitely right. Up until the mid-1920s, you still have waves of immigration coming from Eastern Europe. So you still have new people feeding this desire for the traditional culture. But as immigration stops and people basically tried to become American, the tides shift away from traditional klezmer.
The other important thing that happens in the period that I’m looking at is both a negative rejection of klezmer and a positive attraction to other new things. Klezmer becomes associated with immigrant culture, so people who are trying to be American don’t want to be associated with it. It also becomes associated with the Holocaust, which is very problematic. Anything sounding Yiddish becomes associated for some people with tragedy.
At the same time, and very much related to this, there’s the rise of Israeli popular culture, and especially Israeli folk songs. A really strong symbol of this is in the summer of 1950, when the Weavers record a song called “Tzena, Tzena,” a Hebrew Israeli song written in the 1940s which becomes a massive hit in America — it’s like number two in the Billboard charts for about 10 weeks. Israeli culture becomes this symbol of hope and the future and a new society that’s inspiring. This is all in very stark contrast to what klezmer represents for people. And a lot of the composers of Israeli folk song of its first decades had this very clearly stated ideology that they’re moving away from Ashkenazi musical traditions and Yiddish.
So the Jewish set at a wedding becomes an Israeli set.
At a typical Conservative wedding in the 1950s and ’60s, you might hear 10 minutes of Jewish music. The first one would be “Hava Nagila,” then they went to “Tzena, Tzena,” then they would do a song called “Artza Alinu,” which is today not very well known, and then “Hevenu Shalom Aleichem.” They are songs that are perceived to be Israeli folk songs, even though if you actually look at their origins, it’s a lot murkier than that. Like two of the songs I just mentioned are actually Hasidic songs that received Hebrew words in pre-state Palestine. Another probably comes from some sort of German, non-Jewish composer in 1900, but is in Hebrew and is perceived to be a representation of Israeli culture.
But even when the repertoire already represents a shift towards what’s easier to digest for American Jewry, the arrangements and the instruments and the musical ornamentation are essentially klezmer. The musicians I spoke to said they did this because they felt that this is the only way that it would actually sound Jewish.
That is to say, to be “Jewish” the music had to gesture towards Ashkenazi and Yiddish, even if it were Israeli and Hebrew. As if Jews wanted to distance themselves from Eastern Europe — but only so far.
Someone like Dave Tarras or the Epstein Brothers, musicians who were really at the forefront of klezmer in New York at the time, were really focused on bringing it closer to Ashkenazi traditions. Ashkenazi Jewish weddings in America are not the totality of Jewish weddings in America, and Israeli music itself is made up of all these different traditions — North African, Middle Eastern, Turkish, Greek — but in effect most of the really popular songs of the time were composed by Ashkenazi composers. Even “Hava Nagila” is based on a melody from the Sadigura Hasidic sect in Eastern Europe.
Of course, if you’re a klezmer musician you’re allergic to “Hava Nagila.”
Then-Vice President Joe Biden dances the hora with his daughter Ashley at her wedding to Howard Krein in Wilmington, Delaware on June 2, 2012. (White House/David Lienemann)
You spoke earlier about Latin music, which seemed to become a Jewish thing in the 1950s and ’60s — I know a few scholars have focused on Jews and Latinos and how Latin musical genres like the mambo and cha-cha-cha became popular in the Catskill Mountain resorts and at Jewish weddings.
Latin music is not exclusively a Jewish thing, but it’s part of American popular culture by the late 40s. But Jews are very eagerly adopting it for sure. In the Catskills, you would often have two separate bands that alternated every evening. One is a Latin band, one is a generic American band playing everything else. And part of that is American Jews wanting to become American. And how do you become American? By doing what Americans do: by appropriating “exotic” cultures, in this case Latin. This is a way of being American.
Jews and Chinese food would be another example.
And by the way, in a similar vein, it also becomes very popular to dance to Israeli folk songs. A lot of people are taking lessons. A lot of people are going to their Jewish Y to learn Israeli folk dance.
I’ve been to Jewish weddings where the “Jewish set” feels very perfunctory — you know, dance a hora or two long enough to lift the couple on chairs and then let’s get to the Motown. Or the Black Eyed Peas because they were smart enough to include the words “Mazel Tov!” in the lyrics to “I Gotta Feeling.”
So that’s why we always hear that song! I will say though, even when the Jewish music appears superficial, it does have this deeper layer of meaning. It’s very interesting how, despite all these changes, and despite the secularization process of American Jewish weddings, the music still connects people to their Jewishness. These pieces of music are so meshed with other religious components. Of course, most people see this as secular. But a lot of people connect to their Jewish identity through elements such as Jewish music, Jewish food, certain Jewish customs that are easier to accommodate in your secular lifestyle, and the music specifically has this kind of flexibility, this fluidity between the sacred and the profane.
That’s beautiful. It sort of makes the musicians secular clergy.
It’s interesting that you say that. In his history of klezmer, Walter Zev Feldman refers to the klezmer — the word itself means “musician” — as a kind of a liminal character, an interstitial character between the secular and the mundane. The music is not liturgical, but when the klezmer or the band is playing, it is an interval woven with all these other religious components and things that have ritual meaning.
—
The post The hora, the hora! How Jewish wedding music got that way appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
From golems to Horton to banana menorahs: This year’s Hanukkah kids’ books light up the imagination
(JTA) — From Who-ville to Schmoozeville, and from island getaways to cozy homes, this year’s crop of Hanukkah books for kids of all ages take families on journeys to imaginative settings, some familiar from the pantheon of children’s literature and Jewish ideas. Families from across the diverse Jewish spectrum will enjoy the new titles that celebrate the popular eight-day holiday, also known as the Festival of Lights.
Three titles garnered the recommendation of the Association of Jewish Libraries — “Construction Site, Hanukkah Lights,” “Banana Menorah” and “Lost and Found Hanukkah.”
Hanukkah begins at sundown on Sunday, Dec. 14.
“Construction Site Hanukkah Lights”
Sherri Duskey Rinker and Shawna J.C. Tenney
Chronicle Books; ages 2-4
The youngest children — particularly those who are vehicle-obsessed — will enjoy lifting the flaps of this rhyming story, in which a dump truck, a crane and a cement mixer transform a construction site into a Hanukkah wonderland with a dazzling giant menorah and a huge pile of shiny gold Hanukkah gelt.
“Happy HanukKat”
Jessica Hickman; illustrated by Elissambura
Kar-Ben Publishing; ages 1-4
Jessica Hickman’s sweet, rhyming board book about a lively Jewish family of kittens will tickle the youngest kids, who will have fun celebrating each night of the holiday with the Hanukkah party-loving cat family. Elissambura’s playful illustrations feature kitties in Hanukkah party hats and sweaters.
“Golem Loves Latkes: A Tasty Hanukkah Tale”
Doreen Klein Robinson; illustrated by Anna Krajewska
Intergalactic Afikomen; ages 3-10
In Doreen Klein Robinson’s fun-filled story, an endearing little girl loves to visit her bubbie for Hanukkah in the happy village of Schmoozeville, where everyone likes to schmooze – chat, in Yiddish. But this year, the usually friendly townsfolk are bickering about the best topping for fried potato latkes — applesauce or sour cream. The young girl makes a clay dreidel that spins to life as a golem, the centuries-old Jewish mystical clay figure who protects Jews. When the latke-loving golem gobbles up all of Schmoozeville’s crispy latkes, the clever girl takes the golem’s message to the warring camps: Enjoy your latkes however you like and celebrate the true meaning of the holiday. Anna Krajewska’s lively, colorful illustrations add to the mayhem and score points for featuring a youthful, active bubbie.
“Dr. Seuss’s Horton Hears a Hanukkah Party!”
Leslie Kimmelman; illustrated by Tom Brannon, based on “Horton Hears a Who!” by Dr. Seuss
Random House; ages 3-7
Horton the Elephant looms large in Leslie Kimmelman’s rhyming riff on the classic “Horton Hears a Who!” by Dr. Seuss. The original features an elephant who champions the small against the mighty — a perfect character for the Hanukkah story. In this version, only Horton hears the faint sound of celebration that goes on night after night, so his jungle friends tease him. On the eighth night Horton sees the sparkling menorah belonging to a rabbi, who invites Horton and his pals to his family’s celebration. Tom Brannon’s illustrations translate the essence of Seuss’s floppy-eared Horton to a Jewish setting.
“Banana Menorah”
Lee Wind; illustrated by Karl West
Apples & Honey Press; ages 3-5
In Lee Wind’s light-hearted story, Skylar, a spirited young girl, and her two fathers are vacationing on an island far from home on the first night of Hanukkah. But both dads forgot to pack a menorah. The clever girl improvises with what’s on hand — the first night, it’s a banana menorah, the next, a granola bar. When they get home in time for the fourth candle and light their three menorahs, Skylar misses the new ones. For the rest of the holiday, her family celebrates with friends and all kinds of menorahs. Karl West’s animated illustrations add to the fun for a playful, creative holiday. Instructions for a banana menorah at the end — though there are also mass market versions available to buy.
“Lost and Found Hanukkah”
Joy Preble; illustrated by Lisa Anchin
Chronicle Books; ages 5-8
LGBT families and homemade menorahs are part of Joy Preble’s heartwarming story about Nate, who loves celebrating Hanukkah and lighting his family’s three menorahs, including one he made. When he and his two fathers move to a new apartment, Nate’s menorah gets lost. At Amy’s Judaica shop, Nate befriends the latke-loving, furry store kitty named Kugel, who runs out of the shop. When Nate’s dads fry up a batch of latkes for the holiday, the clever boy hatches a plan to find Kugel. By story’s end, everyone is reunited in time to celebrate Hanukkah and Nate carves a perfect new menorah. Lisa Anchin’s large cartoon-style illustrations reflect the story’s warmth and love.
“The Book of Candles: Eight Poems for Hanukkah”
Laurel Snyder; illustrated by Leanne Hatch
Clarion Books; ages 4-8
Children will enjoy following a young girl, her siblings, their parents and — again — a kitten as they light Hanukkah candles every night. Each night’s poem flows lyrically to the next. The award-winning Laurel Snyder adds a note for each candle that illuminates the themes of the holiday and turns the story into a teachable moment. Leanne Hatch’s cartoon-style illustrations capture the cozy, wintry setting and glow of the flickering flames
“A Dragon Called Spark: A Hanukkah Story”
Lily Murray; illustrated by Kirsti Beautyman
Kalaniot Books; ages 4-7
In Lily Murray’s imaginative tale, a young girl named Eva feels lonely when she and her family move somewhere new and she is far from friends at the start of Hanukkah. For comfort, Eva turns to Spark, her imaginary friend, a diminutive flying dragon. But Eva is worried that Spark is lonely and hopes for a Hanukkah miracle — a friend for herself and for Spark. When she meets Charlie, her neighbor, they become friends and she tells him about Spark, whom he can’t see. The power of friendship shines in this poignant story. Kirsty Beautyman’s illustrations capture the magic of the tale, which gets high marks for featuring a multiracial friendship.
“Eight Fairy Nights”
Imagined and illustrated by Bub
BookBaby; ages 4-8
Bub’s unique Hanukkah story introduces young kids to a fairytale version of the Hanukkah story and the Maccabees — who are lauded for their courage. Readers then meet eight fairies with eight virtues, one for each night. The book captures Bub’s enthusiasm for celebrating Hanukkah, and his weakness for riddles. Without referencing God’s hand in the Hanukkah miracle, “Eight Fairy Nights,” may be especially appealing to secular and humanist Jews.
The post From golems to Horton to banana menorahs: This year’s Hanukkah kids’ books light up the imagination appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
America’s oldest Jewish congregation launches a kosher food pantry on the Upper West Side
(JTA) — On Thanksgiving morning, as volunteers gathered at Congregation Shearith Israel for the synagogue’s 11th annual “packathon,” they also marked a new milestone: Their synagogue was opening a kosher food pantry on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
Shearith Israel, an Orthodox congregation that is also known as The Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue, was established in 1654, making it the oldest congregation in the United States.
The synagogue’s Thanksgiving-morning volunteer event draws a large crowd each year in part because of its location along the Macy’s parade route. But its Thanksgiving tradition stretches back centuries: In 1789, when George Washington announced the first national Thanksgiving, Shearith Israel’s leader at the time, Gershom Mendes Seixas, held the country’s first Jewish Thanksgiving service.
With a history older than the founding of the United States, Louis Solomon, the president, or parnas, of Shearith Israel, said the congregation was looking for a way to celebrate the country’s upcoming 250th birthday.
“It’s been a part of our culture for 3,000 years, but certainly a part of our culture in America for 372 years, to give back, to try to do what we can,” said Solomon. “So the congregation has gotten itself together and thought about, what is it that we could actually do?”
Over the summer, Shearith Israel reached out to Alexander Rapaport, the executive director of Masbia, a kosher soup kitchen and food pantry, to propose an idea: Masbia could open a location in their synagogue.
“They’re celebrating America turning 250 years, and they’re thinking of what they can do, something special,” said Rapaport. “And one of the things they think that could be is opening up a food pantry in their place.”
At the event on Thursday morning where the new Masbia Relief Annex was announced, volunteers from local faith groups, including the Jewish Center, the Latter-Day Saints and the West End Church, watched the parade and assembled 2,000 packages of food.
Solomon said Shearith Israel had pledged to contribute $50,000 to the new Masbia annex, and was asking local faith groups to collectively match their donation.
The new food distribution center is scheduled to open sometime before Hanukkah, and will allow Masbia to serve Manhattan through the use of Doordash, which provides the nonprofit with free delivery services.
Rapaport said that this month, due to the tightened federal rules around the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, Doordash had provided Masbia with 11,000 free deliveries. So far, Rapaport said they were on track to hit that number.
“We’re hoping that DoorDash is our go-to thing, because that eliminates the breadline stigma, and it just brings people food. It also gives us flexibility,” said Rapaport.
Masbia currently has three locations, two in Brooklyn and one in Queens. Now, Rapaport said the new space will allow the food nonprofit to provide delivery service in Manhattan as well.
“We’re here to help people. It’s a new borough, it’s not a borough that we were in. We’re going to reach out to the community and see where the need is, and slowly take on hopefully,” said Rapaport. “The first week we’ll only serve a few dozen people, but then if it grows to hundreds, we’ll be very happy.”
The post America’s oldest Jewish congregation launches a kosher food pantry on the Upper West Side appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Hezbollah Leader Leaves Open Possibility of New War With Israel
Lebanon’s Hezbollah Chief Naim Qassem gives a televised speech from an unknown location, July 30, 2025, in this screen grab from video. Photo: Al Manar TV/REUTERS TV/via REUTERS
The head of Lebanese terrorist group Hezbollah said on Friday it retained the right to respond to Israel‘s killing days ago of its top military commander and left open the possibility of a new conflict with Israel.
Naim Qassem spoke in a televised address as fears grew in Lebanon that Israel could escalate its bombardment of the country to compel Iran-backed Hezbollah to relinquish its arsenal across the country, which the group has repeatedly rejected.
Israel‘s killing of Hezbollah’s top military commander Haytham Ali Tabtabai in a strike on Beirut’s southern suburbs on Nov. 23 sharpened those worries.
Qassem said the group would “set the timing” for any retaliation, and said threats of a broader air campaign had no impact on the group – but that renewed war was possible.
“Do you expect a war later? It’s possible sometime. Yes, this possibility is there, and the possibility of no war is also there,” Qassem said.
Qassem did not explicitly say what the group’s position would be in a new war but said Lebanon should prepare a plan to confront Israel that relies on “its army and its people.”
Qassem also said he hoped Pope Leo’s upcoming visit to Lebanon “will play a role in bringing about peace and ending the [Israeli] aggression.”
Lebanon is under growing pressure from both Israel and the United States to more swiftly disarm Hezbollah and other militant groups across the country.
Moments after Qassem’s speech ended, Israeli military spokesperson Avichay Adraee said the Lebanese army’s efforts to seize Hezbollah weapons in the country’s south were “inadequate.”
“Hezbollah continues to manipulate them and work covertly to maintain its arsenal,” Adraee said in a post on X.
But Hezbollah has said it is unwilling to let go of its arms as long as Israel continues its strikes on Lebanese territory and its occupation of five points in the country’s south.