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Kaddish Listen to Tutti Solisti Chamber Players play Kaddish by Deborah Netanel, recorded live at the Artbeat of Israel Concert, Nov, 2002 Miriam Kramer, violin Leslie Maaser, flute Loren Berzenyi, oboe Diana Grubbs, clarinet Steven Aldredge, keyboard (harp) Kathleen Maurer, mezzo Mike Minarcek, percussion download 16.92 MB Dreams, op 36 for violin and piano Listen to internationally acclaimed violinist Miriam Kramer play music by Deborah Netanel, with Chian Kiat Lim, piano Recorded live at Hillel, Cincinnati OH download 10.13 MB Both Together, Each Apart for violin, piano and reciter Music by Deborah Netanel, poetry by Yehuda Amichai Performed by members of Tutti Solisti Chamber Players, Miriam Kramer, violin and Steven Aldredge, piano Recorded in live concert download 12.73 MB Oniyot Zion Deborah Netanel, cellist plays music by David Glinkovsky, with Steven Aldredge at the piano download 4.09 MB Arioso by Paul Ben Haim Deborah Netanel, cello and Steven Aldredge, piano perform works by Israeli composer Paul Ben Haim download 3.68 MB Sephardic Melody by Paul Ben Haim Deborah Netanel, cello and Steven Aldredge, piano perform works by Israeli composer, Paul Ben Haim download 3.51 MB Quartet no 2, "Arava" String Quartet no. 2, “Arava” The Arava is an area of southern Israel, a desert region that in some areas stretches flat for miles in an unending mixture of every shade of yellow and brown, but also has rocky caves and sudden areas of vegetation, greenery and life. This work is a musical representation of the feeling I had while traveling through this region: the timelessness, the loneliness, the stark beauty and the inherent music of such a quiet place. String Quartet no 2, “Arava” is the voice of the desert, the song of the desert and the cry of the desert. download 10.53 MB Wildpeace Text Not even the peace of a cease-fire, not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb, but rather as in the heart when the excitement is over and you can talk only about a great weariness. I know that I know how to kill, that makes me an adult. And my son plays with a toy gun that knows how to open and close its eyes and say Mama. A peace without the big noise of beating swords into ploughshares, without words, without the thud of the heavy rubber stamp: let it be light, floating, like lazy white foam. A little rest for the wounds-- who speaks of healing? (And the howl of the orphans is passed from one generation to the next, as in a relay race: the baton never falls) Let it come like wildflowers, suddenly, because the field must have it: wildpeace. Yehuda Amichai,,from the collection "Not for the Sake of Remembering" (1971) (The poem WILDPEACE was selected from the volume The Selected Poetry of Yehuda Amichai, edited/translated by Chana Bloch and Stephen Mitchell, Copyright 1996, and is reproduced with the kind permission of The Regents of the University of California.) Wildpeace WILDPEACE, a chamber work for medium voice, cello and piano Wildpeace, the poem by Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, was originally written in 1971. More than two decades later, at the Nobel Peace Prize Awards ceremony where Yitzhak Rabin and Yassir Arafat were honored, the poet read it to a world-wide audience. From the moment I discovered this poem, I could feel its passion, its power, its rhythm and its music. The challenge to me as a composer was to convey the imagery of the text by musical expression. I let the rhythm and declamation of the Hebrew words shape the character of the vocal line while the instruments create a palette of sound color to highlight and complement them. The composition is constructed in layers with some heterophonic sections. The lyrical vocal lines are set in a largely modal idiom. An interesting and challenging feature for the performers is the use of percussion. The singer plays finger cymbals and frame drum, the cellist creates percussive effects on the body of the cello, and the pianist plays wind chimes. Additional effects include the use of artificial harmonics and harmonic pizzicato for the cello. WILDPEACE, commissioned by Kathleen Maurer, was composed during the summer of 2002 The world première, with performers Deborah Kramer Netanel (cello) and Steven Aldredge (piano), took place on November 21, 2002 in Cincinnati, Ohio as part of the Artbeat of Israel concert for the Israeli Cultural Arts Festival. download 8.95 MB Elegy, op 24 for cello and piano by Gabriel Faure Deborah Netanel and Steven Aldredge perform Faure's Elegy at Evangelical Community Church's Fall Concert download 6.92 MB

  Excerpt from THE KADDISH: A JEWISH PRAYER IN WESTERN ART MUSIC by Deborah Netanel (All rights reserved)

The Kaddish, an integral and vital part of the Jewish liturgy common to communities of Jews around the world, is a prayer of sanctification that is mentioned as part of the prescribed synagogue daily prayers for the first time in tractate Soferim 10:7 ca. sixth century C.E. It is believed, however, that the first Kaddish was written several centuries earlier, maybe as early as 440 B.C.E.

In its earliest forms, the Kaddish was a prayer of praise to God customarily recited after Torah study or homiletic discourse. Although originally associated with the rabbinic academy and the study session, the Kaddish began to serve other liturgical functions after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 C.E. During the ensuing centuries the prayer service became standardized, and more prayers were added to the original “core of prayers.” As the Siddur (Prayer book) became organized, prayers were divided into categories according to function; there were introductory, concluding or parenthetical prayers: among such prayers was the Kaddish. These were considered additional prayers, not the “core of prayer” and were used in a secondary way even though they originally had a primary, essentially independent function. As the prayer service expanded, there was a need to set apart one section from another within the service, particularly when the liturgy expanded from the original Shema and Amidah to include many other biblical and Talmudic readings and piyyutim (poems). A form of the Kaddish that marked pauses or served as an indication of conclusion evolved.

Between the sixth century and the 15th century, the Kaddish acquired additional significance and liturgical function as a communal doxology to be recited only amidst a minyan (quorum) of ten males. The most recent assignation of the Kaddish text to a liturgical role in burial and memorial services seems to have originated during the 13th century, at the time of severe persecutions in Germany by the Crusaders. Despite its relatively modern role as a memorial prayer, many Jews associate the Kaddish most strongly with its use in this setting, because in this context the word has become a familiar part of the Jewish vocabulary. An additional paradox about the “mourner’s Kaddish” is that, consistent with the other versions, it is a prayer of sanctification and praise and makes no mention of death.

The core Kaddish text is essentially consistent in all of its versions. It is written in Aramaic. However, there are several small textural variants such as added verses in Aramaic or Hebrew that presented a problem for the late medieval rabbis who wanted to further standardize the Siddur (Hebrew prayer book). This problem was resolved by designating each version of Kaddish a specific set of liturgical circumstances. The basic form was used to mark pauses; a longer text was used to conclude the Amidah (a “core” prayer containing the 18 most important blessings); one Kaddish remained in association with study and another with the burial service; and ultimately a particular text was assigned to the mourner.

Although the text of the Kaddish is essentially constant regardless of liturgical function, musical settings of the prayer vary widely and there are many more musical versions of the Kaddish than the functional and textural variations would seemingly warrant. An interesting point is that the Kaddish that was used to divide sections of the service became the only one for which music was written, while the others, including the mourner’s Kaddish are traditionally spoken, not sung. Among the musical versions of Kaddish is a sub-grouping of those that were chanted around a basic reciting tone. Some of the factors that influenced the style of the Kaddish music included holiday or occasion, tradition and local influences.

While much of Jewish music had been preserved only by oral tradition, in the 18th and 19th centuries cantors began to notate “traditional” Kaddish melodies. One question that needs to be addressed is to what extent are they “traditional” and how old is this tradition? In many ways their modal quality reveals a link with the cantillation modes of the Bible. In addition, the interval of a fourth features prominently in their melodic construction, and this interval is associated with the sounds produced by the Shofar, an ancient wind instrument constructed from the horn of a ram, used in Biblical times and in the Temple in Jerusalem. In some European Jewish communities, particularly in Germany, certain prayer melodies that had “seemed to be around forever” were designated “Missani” tunes, or “melodies from Mount Sinai.” While this was not meant in a literal sense, it indicated that the people felt that these melodies were part of a long-standing tradition. However, since the Jews have spent centuries in exile, living amidst other cultures, the question remains: which aspects of the music are intrinsically “Jewish” and from within the tradition and which ones reflect influences of the surrounding culture. Jewish music originated in the Middle East. Significant aspects of the Middle Eastern musical aesthetic are a linear construction, extensive use of ornamentation, improvisatory and melismatic vocal style and distinctive modes with characteristic intervals not found in the “Western” scales, especially in the last 500 years. In many ways Jewish music reflects its Middle Eastern roots. The musical modes of traditional Ashkenazic synagogue song are called shtayger. Many shtayger can be identified but most commonly, musicologists speak of four shtayger that are named after specific prayers in the Jewish liturgy, namely, Ahavah Rabbah, Adonay Malach, Magen Avot and Av Ha-Rachamim. While shtayger may be paralleled with medieval European church modes and described in terms of octave scales, their structure and use is more similar to that found in the Indian raga or the Arabic maquamat. The tonal range of shtayger may be greater or less than octave, the intervals may be altered in different octaves or patterns or sequences, and the overall tonal characteristics are often determined by certain key notes or resting tones. Certain shtayger contain a stock of motives particular to that mode. With these characteristics in mind, shtayger are more closely associated with concepts of eastern modality than western harmony.

In addition to “Missinai” melodies, Jewish synagogue music developed specific musical modes for specific parts of the liturgy, generally referred to as nusach. According to Encyclopedia Judaica, nusach is characterized by several stock motives that undergo constant variation and exist within several overlapping tetrachords. Each combines the motives in a free order, with no rational pattern. Each nusach is associated with a particular section of prayers and occasion or time of day. This is another example of how Jewish music resembles the oriental maquamat, the Indian raga and other eastern musics.

Yet, in addition to its middle-eastern roots and aesthetic, Ashkenazic Jewish music clearly shows the influence of European music. How is this possible when, for many centuries, the Jews of Europe lived in ghettos? How did concepts of western art music infiltrate the music of a people who were barred from the hub of musical activity and development, the Catholic Church? According to esteemed ethnomusicologist A.Z. Idelsohn in Jewish Music in its Historical Development, despite the official lack of access to the art and culture of their neighbors, cultural reciprocity can be documented between Jews and their neighbors in Europe as far back as the rule of Charlemagne and his son Louis the Pious. The fact that Charlemagne imported the Jewish sage, Rabbi Machir, from Baghdad to France and brought the Kalonymos family from Italy to Mayence in the 8th century showed his interest in bringing Jewish scholarship into the area of his reign. In fact, according to Idelsohn, the correspondence between Archbishop Agobard of Lyons (779-840 C.E.) and Louis the Pious concerning Jewish influence over Christians (825C.E.) confirms that a level of cultural exchanged existed, therefore necessitating a campaign by the Archbishop against Jewish influence on Christians. The fact that cultural exchange continued is evidenced by a ban issued in the year 1197 by Archbishop Odo that prohibited Christian clergy learning Hebrew literature, language and aspects of Synagogue song. According to Idelsohn, there was opposition on both sides to Jews studying Christian liturgical books and singing from them although legend tells that Rabbi Simeon the Great adopted a Christian hymn for his own use on the Sabbath. Idelsohn reprints a quotation from Sefer Chassidim (Ed. Freimann, Frankfurt, 1924) to illustrate this point.
“Also from the Jewish side there arose opposition, in the twelfth century, against the exchange of Synagogue and Church melodies or hymns. A Jew was forbidden to teach a priest or a gentile layman a tune of the Synagogue. In like manner, it was strictly forbidden to let a Christian nurse sing to a Jewish child a Church song or lullaby.”
There is additional indication that, on the other hand, Christians and even dukes with their courts used to attend services in the synagogues at least up until the fifteenth century.

Despite the prohibitions and laws enacted, the reciprocal exchange continued to some extent even though it was not always acknowledged. Minstrels and traveling singers from Italy arrived all over Europe and were well-known to Jewish klezmer and folk entertainers. Rabbis and the municipal authorities granted the Jewish instrumental musicians special permission to mingle with Christian musicians and play at their festivities outside the ghetto. These Jewish musicians continued the cultural exchange, and brought some of the musical ideas with them from outside the ghetto walls and introduced them into the music within Jewish circles.
The Jewish cantors, hazzanim, became more skilled in music through their association with the instrumental players. As the role and skill of the hazzan developed, tensions arose between hazzanim and rabbis. Rabbi Herz Treves (in Frankfort am Main, 1470-1550), complained that cantors were becoming too much like secular non-Jewish musicians, and had ceased to respect the once holy aspects of their office. Rabbis were concerned that too much secular influence was infiltrating the music of the synagogue.
“They have ceased to be writers of Torah…nor do they care for the correct grammatical reading…of the prayers-only for their songs…They neglect the traditional tunes of their ancestors.” Even as late as the 17the century, German rabbi Joseph Hahn complained against the common practice among Jews who adopted Christian tunes for Sabbath hymns and justified themselves by saying that Christians had borrowed the tunes originally from the holy Temple in Jerusalem.

However, despite these concerns and protests, it was not until the Age of Enlightenment that Jewish musicians had significant and ready access to the cultural offerings of their host communities. By the 18th and 19th centuries, the influence and attraction of western art music resulted in a changing aesthetic regarding Jewish music. A prime example of this can be seen in the manuscripts containing Jewish music prior to the 20th century. These are the work of the European, Ashkenazic community of cantors who were influenced by composers such as Schubert and Mendelssohn. The influence of Western harmony resulted in settings of older single-line melodies in a “new” four-part choral style. Therefore, many of their notated melodies seem more like musical arrangements guided by the rules of 19th century European harmony and voice leading than “Missani” tunes. Yet many of these versions of the Kaddish have become standard in the Jewish liturgy, and the body of music found in these anthologies is considered a “primary source” for Jewish music.

What is it about the Kaddish that has inspired composers to use it as a basis for composition? Why is basically the same prayer that is used to separate the sections of the service also the prayer mourners recite for up to eleven months after the death of a loved one and each year on the yahrzeit or anniversary of the death? How has saying the mourners Kaddish, the text of which contains no mention of death or mourning, become so widely observed, and why does its recitation seem to have power to comfort and heal?

The Kaddish recited by mourners is associated with the ascent of the soul into heaven. The Kaddish in all its forms is a petition for the sanctification of God's name and the establishment of God's kingdom. Some sources state that it was inspired by the writings in Ezekiel 38:23. The verse of the prophesy begins with the words v'hitgadilti v'hitkadishti, obviously similar to the yitgadal v'yitkadash of the Kaddish, and speaks of a time when "God will make his greatness and holiness known among many nations and they will know that he is the Lord." In general, the prophet Ezekiel is associated with messages of resurrection and redemption, and the cited verse follows closely the graphic Chapter 37 prophesy of the dry bones of the dead reconnecting into the shape of people, having life breathed into them, and being transported to Israel. This association -- the hope of resurrection and return -- may be one reason the Kaddish has become the mourners' prayer, but it may not be the predominant one. Perhaps the universality of the doxology, the optimistic tone and the strong reaffirmation of faith have caught the attention of composers from many different backgrounds.