After a half century at Yeshiva University’s Philip and Sarah Belz School of Jewish Music – 30 of those years as its director – Cantor Bernard Beer has retired.
Born and bred in Brooklyn, Beer received his musical training at Yeshiva University, Columbia University, and the Julliard School of Music. He served as a professional cantor in several synagogues from 1965-1989 and is currently editor of the Journal of Jewish Music and Liturgy and executive vice president of the Cantorial Council of America (a position he has held since 1974). He is also currently recording the traditional liturgy for the entire year as part of the “Nusach Legacy” project. Volume 1, “Rosh Hashanah: Musaf,” was released earlier this year.
The Jewish Press: Your career in Jewish music dates back quite some time; rumor has it you’ve been singing on key since age three.
Beer: It’s true. Both my parents were very musical, and my mother was always singing in the house. My brothers remember that she couldn’t get over that when she asked me to repeat a song as a three-year-old boy, I was able to sing it on pitch. I even sang “The Anniversary Waltz” at my oldest brother’s bar mitzvah; I was four years old.
How did you wind up entering the field of chazzanus?
I was born into it. My father was an outstanding baal tefillah and baal korei, and we lived in Boro Park in the 1940s where there were large cathedral synagogues, each of which had a chazzan. At the time, Boro Park had two of the greatest chazzanim who ever lived: Moshe and David Koussevitzky. And prior to Moshe Koussevitzky, there was a chazzan by the name of Berele Chagy at Beth El in Boro Park who also was outstanding.
So I was brought up with it. It was in the air we breathed.
You always knew this is what you wanted to do?
I was always into it. I used to listen to all the recordings of the great chazzanim – Rosenblatt, Koussevitzky, Hershman, Kwartin – and would try to replicate them. After my bar mitzvah, I davened at the amud in many shuls in Boro Park.
But then my voice began to mature and I didn’t begin singing again until the age of 18. At the time I was going to college and majoring in languages because I wanted to be a teacher. But then I started attending classes at YU’s school of Jewish music – which at the time was called CTI, the Cantorial Training Institute – and for the first time encountered music as an academic discipline. I was so impressed that I decided to change my major.
In 1967, I was appointed to the faculty of the school and I also taught in MTA. I taught general music, I taught nusach, and I taught cantillation.
When you say “nusach,” you mean something different from what the average Jew who uses this word does, correct?
Nusach hatefillah can refer to the text – Ashkenaz, Sepharad, Arizal. But it also can refer to the melody. Every synagogue service has its own unique melody chant. For example, Kaddish of Maariv on Rosh Hashanah or Barchu on the Shalosh Regalim.
In reference to Kol Nidrei, the Mishnah Berurah quotes the Maharil that you’re not allowed to change the custom of the community when it comes to niggunim. People, though, are not cognizant of this halacha, and even though I’ve retired I hope to be involved in outreach programs to go to different communities and give lectures on nusach hatefillah.
Who, in your estimation, are the best chazzanim of all time?
Rosenblatt, Hirschman, Koussevitzky – they’re all great chazzanim, but that’s not really what it’s all about today. The synagogue service today is suffering from a lack of knowledge in terms of how to daven, so I’m trying to get away from that whole concept of “Who’s the greatest chazzan?” If we don’t know how to daven, what’s the difference who the greatest chazzan is?
What do you mean by “don’t know how to daven”?
Ninety-nine percent of the people don’t know the melodies. They don’t know how to set the text together.
Who decides what’s correct?
There is a proper nusach for every occasion. If an individual leads a Mussaf service on Rosh Hashanah and sings something different than the traditional Kaddish tune before Shemoneh Esrei, it’s not correct. And even if people are not knowledgeable, they know when it sounds right. They know when it’s authentic.
In a lecture in 1977, the Rav – Rabbi Soloveitchik – said there’s a tendency of baalei tefillah to use contemporary melodies for “O’chilah laKeil achaleh fanav” and it’s very wrong. You’re not allowed to do that, he said, because nusach interprets the text and it has kedushah because it has been handed down to us.
But aren’t new tunes added to the davening over time?
There are certain parts of the davening that are not set to any particular nusach. For instance, “Lechah Dodi” on Friday night. You can use many melodies for it. But when you’re talking about tefillos like “HaMelech” on Rosh Hashanah or “Tal” and “Geshem” on Pesach and Sukkos – you can’t change that. That has been handed down to us, generation to generation. It’s our musical mesorah.
Are these what chazzanim like to call “miSinai tunes”?
Yes. There’s also another term for it, “skarbove,” which comes from the Polish “skarb,” which means treasure. These are tunes that are held in such reverence that it is as if they came from Sinai. Take the tune for Kol Nidrei, for example. Can you imagine changing Kol Nidrei to a Carlebach tune? I’m not knocking Carlebach – his tunes are beautiful – but you can’t change it.
And that’s another aspect of the importance of nusach. Nusach unites people. No matter where you are, wherever you go, you’re not going to hear a different melody for Kol Nidrei. The melody unites us as one.
Does the term “miSinai tunes” refer only to Ashkenazic melodies or Sephardic ones as well?
Ashkenazic only. Sephardic is a completely different world. And as a matter of fact, the Sephardic tradition is probably more authentic, especially the Yemenite one, since the Teimanim never left their daled amos and retained all their melodies from way, way back.
Sephardic tunes are probably the closest to the way they sang in the Beis HaMikdash.
In a recent interview you said, “In many instances I have found that synagogue nusach and its music have brought people closer to observance.” Can you provide an example?
About 30 years ago, the Joint Distribution Committee sent us students from Russia, and one of them was the chief cantor of Moscow. He couldn’t read too well, he didn’t know the melodies, and he didn’t know too much about tallis and tefillin either. But when he came here he became observant. If you have a certain music sensitivity, synagogue music can really inspire you.
What kinds of students attend the Belz School of Jewish Music?
The bulk – 80-85 percent – are students from YU. The other 15 percent could be doctors, dentists, lawyers, accountants, business people – all types. Some people might want to be chazzanim and others are just looking to learn how to daven properly. Some time ago we had a baal teshuvah bus driver who studied here.
How would you react to someone who says he prefers listening to a good baal tefillah over a professional chazzan since a chazzan tends to use a pretentious, affected voice?
He’s not a good chazzan if that’s what he does. A good chazzan doesn’t use a crazy voice. You sing with a normal voice. Have you heard some of the good chazzanim today? I’m not a chassid of any of the living chazzanim because all they do is imitate the recordings. Anyone can do that if they have some talent.
But the voice of a good chazzan should not sound – what did you say? – affected. It should sound like a natural voice. The chazzanim these people are listening to are not good chazzanim. I’m sorry. They have crazy voices but they’re not good chazzanim. I agree, I’d rather hear a good baal tefillah than hear that kind of chazzan. I agree 100 percent.