Thursday, June 28, 2012

It’s impossible to believe that it’s now already Thursday – the day that the Mission begins in earnest.  Yesterday, I joined my Toronto colleague Beny Maissner (and other colleagues) in Hannover, for a special day of activities culminating in a program at the magnificent Seligmann House last night. 

Hannover is a medium size city an hour and 45 minutes west of Berlin by (fairly) high-speed train.  (It’s the stop before Bielefeld, where I visited for Shabbat.  Hannover is a larger city than Bielefeld.  Beny has developed a very special relationship with Hannover, and with a music-maker in Hannover: Andor Izsák, who has founded the European Institute for Jewish Music.  Beny’s interest in Hannover comes from the fact that his uncle, Israel Alter (a famous cantor who was among the “top 10” cantors of the 20^th century—both as singer and teacher), served for a time as uberkantor in Hannover, prior to going to Johannisburg prior to the war.

We met the First Mayor (deputy mayor) at Hannover Town Hall, visited the Hannover Museum and the site of the great synagogue, which had been destroyed on Kristallnacht, and saw several models of the city at different periods in its development—from its inception hundreds of years ago, through its development into the 18^th century, up to  1939 (the model showed in black the synagogue, noting that it was burned in 1938), a 1945 model showing the city 90% destroyed at the end of the war, and a current model—although of course we have the city itself to look at, too!

Hannover city model - section of city destroyed in the war

Model of Hannover Synagogue

Hannover has gone to considerable trouble to remember its Jewish heritage.  It was, on one level, impressive that the sign for the 1939 city model in City Hall mentions the destruction of the synagogue.  So you can’t LOOK at the 1939 model without being aware of it—because it’s right there next to 1939 and nothing ELSE is.  There is a memorial to those deported from Hannover in the middle of the city, next to the Opera House.  It lists every name of which they are aware.  A nice idea, and we have seen a similar monument in one of the synagogues in Prague.  Yet in this case, there were about a half dozen young people and a dog “lounging” on the monument—right next to the part where it said “men, women and children.”  I wonder about what this means.  It’s their city.  Should we treat this monument different from all other monuments that people hang out on?  I tried not to think so.  But I’m haunted by a thought that maybe we should.  It’s one thing to ignore the symbolism of a general, government figure, poet, artist of centuries past, and hang out on their monument.  It’s another thing to treat cavalierly the memory of people who were innocently uprooted, many of whom were murdered.   It shouldn’t be roped off.  That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?  But maybe a sign that says “Please respect this place.”  Something of a civic nature along the lines of Da Lifnei Ma Atah Omeid, written over our ark:  Know Before Whom You Stand.  (I don’t mean to put that there; just something having a similar civic implication and hopefully a good outcome.)

Names of the known deported

More names

The program at Seligmann House (Villa Seligmann) had one part featuring the choir organized by Prof. Izsák, reflecting the glory of the Jewish German musical heritage we are here to celebrate—music of Lewandowski, Sulzer, Rose and Naumbourg, as well as Schubert’s “Jewish” composition Psalm 92, in which I had a solo along with my colleague Robert Scherr.  The choir was terrifically prepared.  The music is remarkably rich in melody and harmony: The Schubert piece is a challenge because it DOESN’T adhere to the expected style of beautifully harmonized melody, but twists and turns, pivoting harmonically in ways we’re not used to hearing in schul.  I also sang solo and trio in a Yigdal by Alfred Rose, a composer with whom I’m not familiar.  I was a “late add” for a colleague who wasn’t present, and the piece was a real kick and challenge—in E Major (lots of sharps) with all kinds of quick harmonic pirouettes.  Recognizing that there were hundreds of compositions like these, it is really amazing to think about what it must have been like going to synagogue in Germany between 1890 and 1938.

The second half of the program featured music from the American Jewish oeuvre, performed by my cantorial colleagues, with us occasionally as choir.  Works by Stephen Richards, Rick Berlin, Lawrence Avery, Michael Isaacson, Gershon Kingsley, Robbie Solomon, Gerald Cohen, Ben Steinberg, Debbie Friedman, and Meir Finkelstein.  I know that sounds interminable—but it was really a lovely evening, with tremendous spirit shared between the music-makers (their choir and us cantors) and the music-lovers and supporters, people who have made Andor’s work succeed.

Toward the beginning of the program, I presented Andor with a Yuval Award on behalf of the Cantors Assembly.  Beny presented him with special original recordings and documents from Israel Alter—returning them to where they came from, knowing that they are highly valued here.  At the evening’s end, the cantors received copies of a book about Andor and his work (English edition!) and copies of a beautiful new 3-CD collection that he has prepared of Alter singing cantorial music, Yiddish songs, arias and lieder.  It has been carefully restored to modern standards.  Should be beautiful to hear this voice coming alive again!

Andor and I

Beny (left) and Andor (right)

I’m now on the train—back to Berlin, where many colleagues have arrived since I left.  Addie came yesterday:  She’s working for Ayelet, the tour organizers.  Bubbie (Rosalie Gellman, Susan’s mother) arrives today. . . she should be getting to the hotel before me this morning!  Tonight, the official opening program in the magnificent Rykestrasse synagogue in Berlin.