Colleagues and other acquaintances

A famous Cantor called from Israel to congratulate me on a recording I did of Hoshanos, (a prayer recited on the holiday of Sukkot) composed by my teacher, Moshe Ganchoff. He said: “Jackie, Jackie, I heard your recording of Ganchoff’s Hoshanos, and I had to call you to say how incredible your interpretation was. Not so much the voice; I mean the Chazzonis was tremendous; forget about the voice, it’s not important. NEVER MIND THE VOICE, your INTERPRETATION was marvelous!”

In the ’70’s, I’m taking a shabbes afternoon walk near my shul in Flushing NY. All of a sudden I hear a voice screaming from across the street: “Jeckie! Jeckie!” I look and see a local chazz’n named Moshe. Moshe looks at me and says: “Jeckie! Jeckie! I did a concert with Moshe Stern last week, and guess what?” I said :”What?” He replied: “I beat ’em!!!!!”

I once worked with a European Shammes, who was a terrific guy with a thick accent. He was a big Mets fan and used to say: “Det Derrrrrryl Strrrrrrawbery, he de grrrrreatest! You de grrrrreatest Chazz’n, end he de grrrreatest ball player!” One day a new Rabbi came on board, and on his first shabbes, he instituted a program which he called “Lunch and Learn.” After services, we file into the social hall to eat and study. This was the first Sabbath of the Jewish new year, and we were reading from the beginning of Genesis. So we all pick up our xeroxed handouts, and the Rabbi says: “Mr. Goldsmith, can you please read the first sentence for us?” Goldsmith reads: “In the beginning, the Lord created the heaven and the earth.” The Rabbi exclaims: “Stop!” He then proceeds to launch into his midrashic interpretation. With gesticulating arms he yells: ” IN THE BEGINNING, THE LORD, CREATED, OR MADE, THE HEAVEN, (pointing upward) AND THE EARTH!(pointing down) Continue Mr Goldsmith…” Stunned, the shammes gives me an elbow and said: “Jeck, I see de lunch, but vere’s de loin?”

I once served with a Rabbi in a shul that had a lot of weddings. Every weekend we had at least two weddings. After the third wedding we did together, I realized he said the same exact thing to every bride and groom. The routine was something like: “As this ring is round and unending, so may be your love for each other,” and other like sayings, always finishing with a poem describing love. The poem would end with: “Being in love, is knowing the pain of too much tenderness.” Then he would repeat the line: knowing the pain of too much tenderness.” Obviously, he was doing it for emphasis on the thought. The problem was, the repeated part had the same low affect of the original line. No emphasis whatever. Sort of what one of Martin Scorsese’s hoods in Goodfellas (Johnny Two Times) sounded like when he repeated a phrase like: ” Go out and get da papers…da papers.” Well, years went by, hearing the same shpiel countless times, when the night of his daughter’s wedding came. I waited with great relish, when sure enough, he opens his mouth, and out comes: “As this ring is round……….”

One of my classmates at the Hebrew Union College School of Sacred Music, (we called it scared music) was an Israeli guy named Beny Maissner, a good looking, big, blond haired Prussian type, who had a fondness for saying: “I DRRRRROVE TENK IN ISRAELI ARMY!” In between classes we were all in a hallway shooting the breeze, when a diminutive student with a gorgeous tenor voice, and a huge chip on his shoulder named Robert joined us in a state of excitement. He said: “I just had the greatest lesson with my voice teacher, Ray!” He was referring to Raymond Buckingham, a Brit who was a controversial teacher. Ray invented so called “Isometric” exercises for the voice, which involved making strange and sometimes violent sounds that “broke the rules” of standard vocal pedagogy. Maissner, an uncanny mimic, started to make fun of Ray. He said: “You mean RRRRRobert, he made you sing KA_HEEE? KA_HAAAA?” Robert, who wasn’t playing with a full deck, began to get angry, telling Beny to shut up. Beny continued: “You mean KA_HOOOO_ACK?” Robert started to twitch. Beny presses on. “You mean BLOOO_AAAAACH?’ In a flash, Robert lashes out with a right cross, toppeling a surprised Beny to the floor. Massner, the Israeli, jumps up enraged, and thinking in Hebrew, shouts: “RRRRROBERT… YOU… YOU… ARRRRRE AN ASSSSSES HORRRSE!“

My first pulpit was the Conservative Synagogue of Riverdale. There was a member who fancied himself a mevin of Chazzonis, and an impresario of Cantorial concerts. A regular Sol Hurok of the Bronx. He had a funny habit of inviting cantors to perform in concerts on my pulpit, without mentioning it to me. The first time, he invited a young, up and coming Chazz’n, somewhat like myself. I was devastated on two fronts. Number one, he shouldn’t be doing this without my permission. Number two, the Cantor, upon receiving the invitation, should have reached out to me, to see if I approved. A simple matter of professional courtesy, which applies to all Cantors. (except. apparently those of the Orthodox persuasion, who I theorize, carry the O.C.R.G., the Orthodox Cantors Rudeness Gene.) I immediately protested to the president, who asked said impresario to apologize, which he did. The following year, my good friend showed his remorse by inviting the great David Koussevitsky to my shul, without asking me. David, mentch that he was, (a conservative cantor) called me immediately, and I told him that it would be my honor to host him, and I meant it. Koussevitsky, was one of my childhood idols, and a regular patron of the S & M deli. (Sachs and Mendelson) All of this didn’t exactly inspire confidence in my shul ever showing me the proper respect, so I left said synagogue to become cantor of Beth Torah Congregation of North Miami Beach. About two years into my tenure at Beth Torah, the secretary buzzes, and tells me so and so is on the phone for me. It was none other than the Riverdale yutz who chased me to Florida. Being young and a sentimentalist, I thought he was calling to make amends. I pick up the phone and he said: “Hi Jackie! Can you tell me what you think of Misha Alexandrovitch? I’m thinking of bringing him in for a concert…”

Sam Sterner was a legendary figure in the field of Jewish Synagogue Choral Conductors. Sam was not noted for his great musical prowess. That was not his field of expertise. He was mostly known for his prust demeanor, and wild temper. Prust is yiddish for a person with no boundaries. An individual who will say anything to anybody, anytime, with no filters. A bull in a china shop. If you annoyed him, he would belt you one. Boy or man, it made no difference. If you were a valuable commodity, however, he might handle you with kid gloves. My older brother was such a commodity because of his splendid alto voice. Sterner lovingly called him Mendy. In later years, he would call me Mendy, as I was the brother. When I was the Cantor of the Conservative Synagogue of Riverdale, he showed up at a David Koussevitsky concert in my shul. It was rather a small shul with three or four hundred families. After the concert, he came over to me in the social hall as everyone was having coffee and cake. Sterner was facing me, and behind me was the president of the Synagogue: a grey haired distinguished looking and, refined gentleman. Sterner, with cheesecake in mouth, jerks his thumb in the general direction of the small sanctuary, and loudly proclaims: “Hey MENDY! WHEN ARE YOU GETT’N OUTA DIS FUCK’IN JOINT”?