Who was Reb Shlomo? by Natan Ophir (Offenbacher)
Natan Ophir’s book, Rabbi
Shlomo Carlebach: Life, Mission, and Legacy, has just appeared. This is a
complete biography of Carlebach’s life (not a hagiography) and is essential for
anyone with an interest in Carlebach. The Seforim Blog is happy to include this
excerpt from the book, pp. 413-419.
1. Who was Reb Shlomo?
Who was Reb Shlomo Carlebach? This question was deliberated
in the obituaries after his death. Elli
Wohlgelernter of The Jerusalem Post tried to describe Shlomo’s elusive uniqueness:
The obituaries referred to Rabbi
Shlomo Carlebach as the “Singing Rabbi,” but that’s like describing Yankee
Stadium as just some ballpark in the Bronx.... To have spent any time with
Shlomo – that’s all he was called, never Rabbi Carlebach – was to understand
this: he was his own kind of rabbi and they were his own songs, and they will
be sung for as long as Jews gather to sing and dance….He was part hippie, part
yippie, part beatnik, and part New Age. He was Dylan, Elvis, Arlo and Seeger
all rolled into one, with a touch of Sholem Aleichem and Mark Twain.[1]
Indeed, Shlomo just didn’t seem to fit into any restrictive
defining label. Menachem Daum, in a video report for Religion News and
Ethics, labeled Rabbi Carlebach as the “most unorthodox Orthodox
rabbi.” Moshe Stern, the internationally renowned cantor, characterized
Carlebach as a combination of “a prodigal tzaddik, a musical genius,
perhaps a religious exegete, a hippie in religious-ultra-orthodox garb.” Stern
highlighted the all-encompassing nature of Reb Shlomo’s personality which
defied categorization:
His
greatest strength was and remains chiefly his ability to be all encompassing, a
kind of prototype for felling the divides, for blurring the borders.
This, it seems, is what the ears and souls of many in that younger generation
latched onto, seeking as they did an escape path from the rigid categorizing
enforced on them by the split reality of Israeli life.[2]
Similarly, Robert L. Cohen asks: Was there ever such an
“embodied paradox, a bundle of contradictions?”[3]
Cohen enumerates some of the seemingly contradictory aspects of Shlomo’s life.
For example:
A
thoroughgoing traditionalist, with Orthodox yeshiva education and rabbinical
ordination, he outraged the Orthodox; a man for whom “pluralism” was an alien,
ill-fitting concept, he was an implicit pluralist – teaching and singing
everywhere, honoring rabbis of every denomination and encouraging others’
unorthodox paths.[4]
Shlomo was equally at home with the Admor of Amshinov, the
homeless in Riverside Park, and Hadassah women. But there were subtle
differences in how he presented himself. It was a different type of Shlomo
comforting soldiers in hospitals during the Yom Kippur War, and another Shlomo
singing for Christians in Poland and Germany.
A 1994 obituary by
Yossi Klein Halevi in The Jerusalem Report used the term “Pied Piper of
Judaism” to describe how Shlomo “taught an orphaned generation numbed by the
Holocaust and assimilation how to return to joy.” Halevi captured the
uniqueness of Shlomo’s concerts:
A Shlomo concert was part 60s-style happening, part
Hasidic revival.... Shlomo always appeared with an entourage – strung-out
street people, rebellious yeshivah boys, spiritual seekers, groupies… The only
constant was Shlomo himself: his beautiful melodies; his deep, sure voice; his
at-once profound and hokey rap ranging from Hasidic stories to exhortations for
people to love each other, to mocking and very funny critiques of both
ultra-Orthodoxy and Reform Judaism.[5]
The question of who was Reb Shlomo was often a reflection of
how people related to him. Sometimes, it was Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach officiating
in rabbinical functions such as weddings. Most disciples preferred the
appellation “Reb Shlomo” to indicate a Hasidic closeness and warmth.[6]
But for many followers, it was simply “Shlomo,” the best friend, informal confidant,
eschewing titles or other artificial barriers. He was the rabbi poised at the
entrance to his shul on West 79th St. to welcome all with a bear hug. In
the setting of Manhattan’s street corners, he was a “holy brother” to many a
“holy beggar.”
With a natural ease, Reb Shlomo also assumed the role of a
charismatic prayer leader. For example, on Hoshana Rabbah services at West 79th
St., wearing a white kittel and black gartel, he was like a
choirmaster orchestrating the musical accompaniment of trumpet, violin and
singing congregation. In the full hour-long video dated September 26, 1994 at
the Carlebach Shul, one can see the epitome of the new religious structure
invented by Reb Shlomo: integrating a selection of his songs for the Hallel,
each setting a different mood and spiritual direction; the symbolic waving of
the lulav and arava with joyful dancing, and interjections in
English creating a thoughtful direction.[7]
This is the Shlomo leading a new form of religious experience specifically
adapted to the Orthodox community.
Shlomo was able to blend in to so many different types of
communities because he reflected sundry images to diverse audiences. Prof.
Shaul Magid uses the metaphor of a mirror:
Most
remember him as a mirror: They saw in him what they wanted him to be, or what
they imagined themselves to be…. each of his followers heard what he or she
wanted and constructed him in their image. The Orthodox offer one reading, the
neo-Hasidim another, Diaspora Jews another, Israeli Jews another; leftists read
him one way, Jewish militants another. The point is none of them really know…
He bequeathed a “Judaism of uncertainty” (“what do we know?” was his
catchphrase) so that everything could be reviewed and revised, in the spirit of
love and not separation, on compassion and not exclusion.[8]
Nonetheless, of all the images
of Shlomo, the most well-known is that of the Singing Rabbi, the father of
modern Hasidic music.
2.
The Foremost Songwriter in Judaism?
Ari Goldman, in The New York Times obituary in
1994, designated Shlomo Carlebach “the foremost songwriter in contemporary
Judaism.”[9]
Recently, Goldman reiterated this statement, adding that it has never been
disputed.[10] In 1997,
music historian, Robert L. Cohen, referred to Shlomo as “the most
prolific composer of liturgical folk melodies in this, perhaps any, century.”[11]
In a later article, Cohen explained
that Carlebach “opened the gates for a new generation of niggun makers”
by creating music with a Hasidic flavor that could be accessible to young
Americans:
Shlomo Carlebach had a phenomenal gift for melodies
that conveyed yearning and joy, sweetness and exultation all at once… His
example inspired an entire generation to set traditional, and some original,
verses to their own new melodies… The result has been a garland of new Jewish
music – of new wings for our prayers.[12]
This
type of recognition recurs in various Jewish encyclopedias and year books. Mark K. Bauman in the 2011
Jewish American Chronology, recognized Shlomo as “the twentieth century’s most
prolific and influential composer of Jewish music and a key ambassador of spirituality,
especially to Jewish youth.”[13]
Judah M. Cohen, in the Encyclopaedia Judaica entry, defined Carlebach’s
extraordinary influence:
At the time of his death,
Shlomo Carlebach had become a legend of sorts, having recorded over 25 albums,
composed up to 5,000 songs, performed on five continents, released two official
songbooks, amassed a broad following, granted semikhah to both male and
female students, and given away nearly all his earnings. Several of his songs,
moreover, had become “traditional” during Jewish events; revelers would sing
such songs as “Esa Einai,” “David Melekh Yisrael,” “Am Yisrael
Chai,” and “Od Yeshoma.”[14]
Mark Kligman, professor of Jewish Musicology at Hebrew Union
College in New York, in his survey of contemporary Jewish music in the American
Jewish Year Book (2001) stated: “Jewish musical artists of today consider
Shlomo Carlebach the father of contemporary Jewish music.”[15]
Kligman explains that the most innovative part of Shlomo’s musical success was “the blending of Hassidic song with
folk music”:
Combining the participatory
ease of folk music, the energy of the newly created music from Israel, and the
religious fervor of the Hassidic niggun, he succeeded in moving
liturgical music out of the synagogue and into a wide range of other settings,
including concert halls and night clubs, and used his music to educate and
inspire Jews to renew their Jewish identity and discover the beauty of Jewish
life.[16]
Nonetheless, not all Jewish musicologists have recognized
Shlomo’s importance. Cantor Macy Nulman in his 1975 comprehensive encyclopedia
of Jewish music does not have an entry for Shlomo Carlebach.[17]
Similarly, in his 1992 masterful survey of Jewish musical traditions, Hebrew
University Professor of Musicology, Amnon Shiloah, does not mention Shlomo.[18]
Presumably, part of the reason is that popular Hasidic folk songs are not on
the same level as professional music. Indeed, Shlomo’s musical success is
remarkable considering that he never really trained as a professional musician,
and apart from a few voice lessons in Manhattan, was not an expert cantor. Or
as Shlomo self-effacingly explained in an interview to Elli Wohlgelenter:
I
don't think I have a good voice. I think my voice is just good enough to
inspire people to sing with me. If I would have a gevalt voice like,
let’s say, Moshe Koussevitzky, then nobody would want to sing with me, because
then they’ll think they don’t want to miss my voice, but my voice is just good
enough to make them sing.[19]
Shlomo’s self-comparison to the renowned cantor Moshe Koussevitzky
highlights a key ingredient of his musical success. Rather than impress an
audience by a beautiful recital, Shlomo led a sing-along of catchy tunes. A
typical Carlebach tune is easy to follow.[20]
At Shlomo events, participants quickly learned his new songs thus furthering
their popularity.
Musicologist Velvel Pasternak explained that if judged by objective
musical standards, Shlomo was not the most outstanding composer, singer or
guitarist, but his success was due to an uncanny ability to strike an immediate
responsive chord in the ears of his listeners:
Even
a seemingly banal sounding melody became a hypnotic and mesmerizing chant. The
simplicity of his melody line, the intensity of his performances, the charisma
of his personality, served to create a worldwide musical following.[21]
Furthermore, by
adapting the form and fervor of a Hasidic farbrengen (see above, Chapter 6), Shlomo constructed
a new hybrid of folk singing and semi-prayer. To quote the insightful appraisal
of Motti Regev and Edwin Seroussi:
Armed with a guitar, dressed like an “orthodox
hippie,” and using the most basic harmonies and short, repetitive melodies,
Carlebach appeared at concerts that became a kind of unorthodox prayer that
recalled the traditional Hassidic tish, an assembly of Hassidim around
the table of the rebbe, held on special dates, and characterized by singing and
dancing.[22]
In sum, the
amalgamation of a Hasidic tish, inspirational storytelling, emotional
insights, and ethical exhortations created the innovative Carlebachian musical
experience. Samuel C. Heilman, professor of Sociology at Queens College CUNY,
describes Shlomo Carlebach as a product of a synergy between Hasidic, Israeli,
and American trends:
He attached himself to Hasidic prayer styles from
which he took the idea of expressive enthusiasms in prayer and devotional
ecstasy as part of Jewish outreach. From American new folk idioms, he took the
guitar, rhythms, the practice of sing-alongs, the “talking blues,”
concertizing, and the idea of making recordings. From Israeli culture, he
borrowed the idea of shirah b’tzibbur, i.e., choral singing as a tool of
social solidarity. All these he mixed syncretistically to develop his
particular style.[23]
Indeed, this
description sums up the secret of the appeal to Reb Shlomo’s music. He was able
to bring together the popular folk music of the 1960s and the fervor of Hasidic
niggunim to create a new genre of music. But Heilman goes further and
explains:
Contemporary Carlebach minyanim have
elevated him and his approach to a kind of mythic status. Reb Shlomo, as
devotees refer to him these days, is the modern Jew’s counterpart to the
Hasidic rebbes and other immortals that the Haredi world has enshrined.
Like these rebbes, he is frequently resurrected in stories, songs, aphorisms,
and teachings that are meant to shape the attitudes and religious character of
those who invoke his memory.[24]
.
[1] Elli Wohlgelernter, “Simply Shlomo,” The Jerusalem Post, April 20,
1995.
[2] Ronit Tzach in Yediot Aharonot, Seven Day
Magazine, Feb. 4, 2005, 34. Cited in Shmuel Barzilai, Chassidic Ecstasy
in Music (Frankfurt am Main: 2009), 152.
[3] This witty aphorism is a quote from Charles Caleb
Colton (1780–1832), Lacon or Many things in Few Words: Addressed to Those
Who Think, vol. 1, 
CCCCVII,
p. 1980.
CCCCVII,
p. 1980.
[4] Robert L. Cohen, “Jewish Soul Man.” Moment,
August 1997, 59–64, 83.
[6] Shlomo explained the advantages of using the
designation “Reb” rather than “Rabbi” by playfully distinguishing the letters.
“Rabbi” is a combination of Ra (Hebrew for “bad”) and Bi (“he
gets by”), whereas “Reb” is a shortened form of “Rebbe,” and in Hebrew means
“Rabbi” with the letter yod, signifying the Divine Presence – “God is so
tremendous inside” – God’s Light in you. Shlomo’s explanation can be heard on
segment 4:53–5:11 in part 4 of “Rabbi Shlomo In Concert”, YouTube, http://bit.ly/1bq3rE0. This is from his concert in Feb. 1994 in Miami
Beach.
[7]
For an hour long program of Reb Shlomo leading the singing for the Hoshana
Rabbah service at the Carlebach Shul on 79th St., see Kikarhashabat.co.il;
http://bit.ly/16CTaBM. Compare http://bit.ly/1dbGmHj;
http://bit.ly/18pI96e. A record was
produced entitled R. Shlomo Carlebach – The Last Hoshana Raba, http://bit.ly/HjJRAv, http://bit.ly/1g44CyH; http://bit.ly/18pHZMk.
[8] Shaul Magid, “Carlebach’s Broken Mirror,” Tablet
Magazine, Nov. 1, 2012, TabletMag.com, http://www.tabletmag.com; http://bit.ly/1ac2Yc6.
[9]
Ari L. Goldman, “Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach,” New York Times, Oct. 22, 1994.
[10]
Ari L. Goldman, “Why Carlebach Matters,” The
Jewish Week, May 8, 2009.
[11]
Cohen,
“Jewish Soul Man,” 59.
[12] Robert Cohen, “New Wings for Our Prayers: On American
Jewish Music,” Open the Gates!, vol. 1, 2005, excerpted in Tikkun, March
27, 2008, Tikkun.org, http://bit.ly/17Qyw1k. Cohen’s essay accompanies the CD American-Jewish Music for
Prayer and
describes Jewish religious folk music,
its inspiration in the Hasidic movement and its cultural roots in American folk
music. The CD includes 18 different composers and performers of prayerful
melodies and #17 is “Ein Keilokeinu” of Shlomo Carlebach.
[13]
Mark K. Bauman, Jewish American Chronology: Chronologies of the American
Mosaic (Santa Barbara, California: 2011), 119.
[15]
Mark Kligman, “Contemporary Jewish Music in America,” in David Singer and
Lawrence Grossman (eds.), American Jewish Year Book. New York: 2001,
vol. 101, 88–140.
[16] Kligman, “Contemporary Jewish Music.”
[17] Macy Nulman, The Concise Encyclopedia of Jewish
Music (New Zealand: 1975).
[18] Amnon Shiloah, Jewish Musical Traditions (Detroit: 1992). His book is based on a course in
Hebrew that Shiloah prepared for the Open University in the years 1985–1987.
[19] Wohlgelernter, “Simply Shlomo.”
[20]
A typical Carlebach tune has two contrasting sections of only eight bars each,
with the second one in a higher register, melodic sequences, and constant
syncopation (with the rhythm accenting a normally weak beat) – see Motti Regev
and Edwin Seroussi, Popular Music and National Culture in Israel (Berkeley–Los
Angeles–London: 2004), 129.
[21]
Velvel Pasternak, “A Musical Legacy,” Aquarian Minyan Newsletter,
Autumn–Winter, 1995, reprinted in David Wolfe-Blank (ed.), The Aquarian
Minyan KhaZak! Khazak!, 388–389.
[22]
Regev and Seroussi, Popular Music, 127–128.
[23]
Adapted from Samuel C. Heilman, Sliding to the Right: The Contest for the
Future of American Jewish Orthodoxy (Berkeley and Los Angeles: 2006), 291.
[24]
Ibid.
