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Dec. 16, 2005

The tradition continues

BASYA LAYE

Neshama Carlebach has got a hard act to follow. As the daughter of Reb Shlomo Carlebach, one of the most well-known and beloved figures of 20th-century Jewish life and song, she has a ready-made audience. But, as a singer-songwriter in her own right, the task of creating her own identity, apart from that of her famous father, is not easy. However, as much as Neshama Carlebach is following in her father's footsteps, she has carved out her own Jewish music niche.

This was apparent when, in honor of Shlomo Carlebach's (z"l) 11th yahrzeit, Neshama performed last month with her five-piece band for about 100 people at the renowned Carlebach Shul on the Upper West Side in Manhattan. She played music from her most recent album, Journey (2004), as well as favorites from previous releases. She also played some of her father's beloved niggunim (melodies).

Shlomo Carlebach was one the few religious Jewish cult figures of the last century and he succeeded in cutting across boundaries of religious observance, affiliation and denomination. His daughter cuts across boundaries as well, but mainly musical ones. Her songs fuse multiple genres – Israeli popular and folk, funk, soul, bossa nova and jazz – but are predominantly devotional. She successfully balances her own singer-songwriter identity with recognition and respect of her father's inspiration, not simply capitalizing on his memory, but acting in his tradition by bringing together disparate Jewish people. The audience at the Carlebach Shul on Nov. 17 encompassed a wide range of ages and levels of religious observance.

Unfortunately, the evening was poorly organized and started more than an hour late. As we waited for the concert to begin, there was a pervasive sense of annoyance mixed with anticipation. Apparently, the band had not done a sound-check earlier in the day and the audience was asked to remain in an upstairs study hall until the band was ready. Also, scheduled speaker Rabbi Avi Weiss was unable to make an appearance and, instead, Yehudah Green did a Shlomo-style sing-along that failed to inspire.

One of the more fascinating aspects of the event was the palpable sense that members of the audience truly have love for Neshama Carlebach. It seems that people who connected deeply with Shlomo's music and his style of storytelling want to own part of his legacy and that induces an extra measure of adulation for his daughter. But she deserves attention for her own merits.

During the performance at the shul, Neshama tried to get the audience moving and singing by exclaiming suddenly, "I can't hear you!" This elicited only a momentary response. However, near the close of the show, she suggested that people should really get up and dance. It was as though the entire audience had been waiting to be granted permission. In many Jewish concerts, it seems that people are uncomfortable with the physical act of enjoying the music, half-swaying, moving uncomfortably to the music, until the OK is sounded. This was the case here, too. When Neshama gave her permission, the audience broke loose in a bit of a dancing frenzy.

At events that bring the Shlomo chevrah (friends) together, it often feels like everyone wants a piece of the experience – there is a hint of desperation and adulation in the air that creates tension. Neshama managed to dissipate this sense and, by the midpoint of the show, she had successfully engaged her audience. Songs like, "Asher Bara," "Gam Ki Elech," "V'Yerushalayim" and "Ani Shelach" were well received.

The concert seamlessly balanced Neshama's and Shlomo's music. It also provided an opportunity to reminisce and reflect on Reb Shlomo's impact. It seems that every Shlomo admirer has a personal anecdote to share and, when I was asked by the person next to me if I had ever met him, I had to admit that even I had a Shlomo story or two.

Basya Laye is director of programs at the Foundation for Ethnic Understanding in New York City.

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