Klezmer: New Noise From Ancient Sounds
Klezmer music...The name may leave you totally puzzled, but you've probably
heard the sound before. Without my revealing the slightest in terms of its
Yiddish (that is, Eastern European Jewish) origins, a friend of mine referred
to it as "wild Jewish music" the very first time he heard it.
Can we attribute this to the fact that several American generations have
heard Herschel Bernardi singing 'If I Were A Rich Man' in Fiddler On The
Roof? Perhaps, but to use showtunes as any sort of adequate musical comparison
would be extremely unjust. Klezmer feels and sounds like a great many things.
It may range from somber and contemplative to frantic, and ethnic colors
abound. The Balkans quickly come to mind: Eastern European nations such
as Greece, Turkey, the former Romania, and many others. The textures of
more exotic locales, such as the Middle and Far East appear as well. Today,
head-on collisions with rock, jazz, and other current music continue to
add to this thick musical soup. Despite these permutations (or just plain
mutations perhaps), klezmer still seems to be perceived by many as a culture-specific
musical genre, left to be played and appreciated by those whose ancestors
brought it to this country and into our modern age. The question is: Not
being a Jew, is this music something I just can't "understand"
properly? I can understand that it's beautiful and that it moves me. This
sentiment has been echoed by musicians and listeners from all walks of life
who come with a sincere desire to enjoy klezmer and to understand where
it's coming from and where it's going.
Klezmer traces it's roots back centuries to Eastern Europe. In saying it
is Jewish music as above, it is important to acknowledge the Jewish culture's
secular as well as religious component. Klezmer music was most decidedly
a part of the former; instrumental music was forbidden in the temple, only
unaccompanied singing was allowed. The instrumentation of these first klezmer
bands is the basis for the typical klezmer band of today. The most popular
instruments included violin, clarinet, accordion, and drums; brass, other
reeds, and a double bass or tuba might make appearances as well. These groups
were most popular at weddings and other celebrations in the community. Many
also took the opportunity to travel extensively, playing for all manner
of audiences who might need something they could dance to all night.
At the end of the 19th century, European Jews were among the most populous
of the groups immigrating into America. Sadly, klezmer music was regarded
by some as a barrier for entrance into mainstream culture, and many Jews
were content to abandon what might have been a reminder of the old life
they had left. Klezmer, referred to simply as "Yiddish music"
at this time, was still embraced by Jews in the more culturally segregated
areas of large cities and there it managed to flourish. It even occasionally
received mainstream recognition on radio shows or novelty performances by
popular musicians of the day. Yet as the 20th century continued, more and
more American Jews were growing distant from their European heritage. The
annihilation of much of the remaining Jewish culture in Europe by the Nazis
and the subsequent creation of Israel as a new focal point of Judaism also
distanced American Jews from their Yiddish roots. Yet as pop music rose
from the ashes of the big-band era, one Yiddish entertainer seized the limelight
by doing something entirely new. Mickey Katz, humorist and bandleader, used
old klezmer styles to parody the popular music of the day. He mixed English
and Yiddish lyrics with tight musicianship and thrilled audiences of the
1950s. However, the emphasis of Katz's most popular music was on lyrical
humor and parody and it only touched on the boundaries of traditional klezmer.
A formidable musician, Katz also made a number of more straight-ahead klezmer
recordings, though these received considerably less recognition. The more
serious instrumentalists, musicians such as legendary clarinetist David
Tarras (known as the "The King of Klezmer") played on, but the
genre was reasonably uneventful for the next two or three decades following
World War II.
Whether you choose to call it a renaissance, revolution, or revival, the
1980s were something different. Young Jewish musicians were coming from
jazz, classical, and other backgrounds with an interest in rediscovering
the music that seemed so inherently tied to their roots. New klezmer bands
began appearing across the nation and with these new players came a wealth
of new skills and modes of expression, learned everywhere from classical
conservatories to late night jazz jam sessions. To discuss the chronology
or details of all the bands and musicians that have led and continue to
lead this movement would be a huge task, as dedicated klezmer units have
sprung up like punk rockers in the wake of Nirvana; so bear in mind that
the following names are only a small sampling of modern klezmer. There are
many more equally deserving names and faces out there than could possibly
be discussed here; the music mentioned below is only some of that which
has, in my personal search, moved me especially.
Perhaps the most exciting and fascinating feature of this new wave of klezmer
is hearing the traditional melodies and song forms twisted and reinterpreted
by players with musical vocabularies that extend into myriad and often distant
realms. Clarinet and mandolin virtuoso Andy Statman, protege of the great
David Tarras, might at first convince a listener that tradition is truly
alive and well as he faithfully recreates old standards with his quartet.
However, a deeper listen will reveal Statman's admirable facility in a variety
of forms: his extended, John Coltrane-inspired clarinet improvisations as
well as his blistering mandolin chops, ready to shred the most frantic of
bluegrass with the best of them (which he occasionally manages to do, even
quoting 'The Orange Blossom Special' in concert with Itzhak Perlman. But
more on that later).
The Klezmatics, easily the biggest name in the current klezmer scene, have
been known to carry the tag of "the world's greatest part band."
Albums with intriguing titles like Rhythm & Jews andJews With Horns
show that the nickname is well deserved, these recorded performances leave
me baffled by how wickedly good this band must be at an actual party. The
Klezmatics also played a role in classical violinist Itzhak Perlman's recent
immersion into klezmer music. Along with Andy Statman as well as the Klezmer
Conservatory Band and Brave Old World, they went into the studio to record
In The Fiddlers House, where Perlman sat in with each band, playing traditional
tunes as well as frightfully adventurous original music. This project went
on to appear on 'The Late Show with David Letterman' as well as a critically
acclaimed performance at Radio City Music Hall. This concert was immortalized
on record as Live In The Fiddlers House-. Both of these recordings offer
a spectacular sampler of four of Americas finest klezmer bands at their
best.
It is not too surprising that the music of Mickey Katz made a return appearance
in this new climate. The host this time around was Don Byron, an African-American
and non-Jewish clarinetist most well known for his current involvement in
New Yorks "alternative" jazz scene. Byron played lead clarinet
with the Klezmer Conservatory Band during his time at the New England Conservatory,
so the medium a familiar one to him. His band of klezmer and jazz musicians
went through both Katz's lesser known instrumental music as well as his
delightfully comic vocal oriented material, with Byron's considerable reverence
for Katz keeping everyone in line with the spirit of the music. Don Byron
Plays The Music of Mickey Katz has perhaps unfairly typecast the gleefully
genre-jumping Byron, but it remains a wonderful album whose material has
not lost a bit of its charm since its inception.
"Young Jewish musicians were coming from jazz, classical, and
other backgrounds with an interest in rediscovering the music that seemed
so inherently tied to their roots."
Bands like all of those mentioned above are somewhere at the crossroads
where klezmer meets well known musical forms such as jazz, rock, bluegrass,
and so on. One facet of this music that has particularly caught my attention
is the juxtaposition of traditional klezmer with not so traditional, even
experimental, jazz, where it seems that nearly all roads lead to composer
and saxophonist John Zorn. A tirelessly prolific performer, composer, and
record company head, Zorn is known most prominently to skirt along the fringes
of jazz and 20th century classical music. In recent years he has taken a
profound interest in his Jewish heritage and it has consequently become
a integral part of his musical agenda. His own ensemble, Masada, combines
the instrumentation and furious disposition of Ornette Coleman's classic
quartet with what sound like traditional Jewish melodies, though the bands
repertoire (literally hundreds of tunes) is almost entirely Zorn originals.
The free-jazz presentation transcends expectations of klezmer in a major
way, but the results are nothing short of spectacular. Zorn's other major
contribution has been the creation of a "Radical Jewish Culture"
series on his record label, Tzadik. His numerous releases attempt to capture
the Jewish experience in ways too numerous to mention, from experimental
opera to hardcore punk covers of Yiddish classics. Klezmer Madness by the
David Krakauer Trio stays a little closer to its musical roots, at least
in form, while still putting an odd double meaning to its title: "You
may be mad about klezmer, but step back for a second. This is klezmer gone
mad." Krakauer, formerly clarinetist for the Klezmatics, plays the
fire out of traditional Yiddish tunes, most from the songbooks of David
Tarras and his contemporaries. With his sparse accompaniment of accordion
and drums, Krakauer's intense improvisations which occasionally leap totally
into the avant-garde give these time tested songs a most intense workout.
There is, of course, much more fine music out there than I could possibly
begin to name. Musicians all across North America and Europe, both recorded
and not, are playing thrilling and vibrant klezmer music. Those who choose
to seek it out are taking part in an exciting musical adventure. The notion
of traditional music evolving and changing may be a peculiar one, but it
is happening, and it is going on around us as we listen.
Though Tom really digs klezmer, he sadly wouldn't know a matzoh ball if
he were being vigorously pelted with them. He welcomes your comments, love
letters, and hate mail at
rancor@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu