Honeyjar 0508 - Congregation Ohev Shalom

Volume 3, No. 9
Page 11
Cantor Acker’s Notes on Performance
From program for his recital at Gratz College, February 2, 2007
The nexus of performance and
worship has long fascinated
me. How distinct are the two
from one another Isn’t it true
that the best worship
experiences are those that are
most well prepared—rehearsed
if you will And when
something is well rehearsed,
isn’t it not only well practiced,
but also supported by the
knowledge and intention
(kavanah) commonly
associated with worship
When expertise, artistry,
knowledge and intention
combine authenticity results.
And isn’t it really authenticity
that we all—performers,
audiences, worshippers and
cantors—really seek
What difference there is
between performance and
worship lays mainly in how
great the distance between the
singer/cantor and the persona
he or she plays. We commonly
think, for instance, that while
the personality of the singer
playing Don Giovanni is far
removed from that of the
rogue (of course there may
also be surprisingly numerous
points of commonality), the
cantor is playing himself. But
this is not really so. When a
poet reads her own work she
dons a persona—albeit one
much closer to her own—and
this doesn’t diminish her
authenticity. So, too, does the
cantor assume a persona when
she ascends the bimah. She
transmits, in a highly inflected
musical form, texts that are
many generations old, laden
with metaphor and ambiguity.
No cantor can effectively
convey such a stylized message
by just being her ordinary self,
no matter how “natural” she
may come to feel in her role.
In other words, she performs
the text. Authenticity, then, is
not a function of place or the
degree of artifice that conveys
any particular performance or
worship service. Rather, it is a
function of the singer’s ability
to commit to and fully embody,
seemingly spontaneously, the
message of the text, secular or
sacred.
My point may be best
illustrated by what I have
experienced in preparing
children to lead prayers in
worship services. The values I
stress, whether with my
children’s choir or individual
b’nai mitzvah, are: study,
proficiency, understanding,
intention (or kavanah),
discipline, singularity of
purpose, respect (for place and
others) and the ability to allow
all these above to dissolve
spontaneously through the joy
of making music. Parents
invariably remark that they
have never seen their children
so sincerely involved in prayer.
While I believe this is true, I also
know that my preparation of
the children for a theatrical
production differs in material
only; the values taught are
exactly the same. So aren’t the
children on the bimah really
performing every bit as much
as those on the stage
I believe so. And what this
observation testifies to is the
profound desire we all have—
whether performers, cantors,
audience, or worshippers—to
find and create experiences
that afford opportunity to
achieve an altered state of
mind. What we call this altered
state—no matter how fleeting it
may be—depends on the
context. In synagogue we call
it “prayer;” in the theater and
concert hall we call it
“performance.” In either case,
at its best, we experience
something otherworldly,
something quite mystical—even
Divine. And it is this that keeps
us coming back for more
wherever we find it.
Cantor David Acker