GuitarGirl's Digital Diary

2012-01-05T13:01:00.000-05:00

IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF DJANGO: A PRELUDE! JOIN US!

HILTON HOTEL, THIS SATURDAY NIGHT, JANUARY 7, AT 11 P.M. in the
REGENT PARLOUR, 2ND FLOOR

JOIN US! Lulo Reinhardt and Olivier Kikteff, two of Europe's most popular Gypsy Jazz guitarists, are the "stars" of the upcoming In the Footsteps Of Django show, touring the US in October/November 2012. They are charismatic and wildly inventive, whether playing a lightning-fast swing tune or a beautiful ballad. A rare opportunity to see them together in this prelude to our full-blown tour.
A production of Teaneck-based INTERNATIONAL MASTERS SERIES!
SPONSORED BY SHUBB CAPOS - visit them at www.shubb.com

Contact Herschel Freeman for bookings. For more information, contact Lynda Kraar at lynda.kraar@gmail.com.

***We are asking all our friends in the Gypsy jazz community and beyond to help us by telling your industry friends and colleagues. Help make this tour a success so that we can continue to bring the best musicians in the world to the American stage.***

Check out IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF DJANGO here -
www.herschelfreemanagency.com/django/django.html
www.reverbnation.com/inthefootstepsofdjango

2011-11-14T22:48:00.000-05:00

November 14, 1995.

I'm still staggered at the thought: It was 16 years ago today that I met Martin Stephen Kraar, the popular, respected, and sometimes feared executive vice president of the Council of Jewish Federations (CJF). It would be a life-altering event. I was working for the Jewish Agency for Israel. Some 4,000 Jewish communal leaders and philanthropists had gathered in Boston for the CJF General Assembly. No one could have imagined that we would be converging upon Boston to collectively mourn the tragic death of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. Throngs of people were going through the motion of coming to town for their various gatherings that week, yet the crowd was shocked and numbed from the events of the day - not knowing what to do or how to absorb the information: Israel was an orphan. We were murderers. We were victims. We were orphans. We were lost. The people of the book were speechless.

Marty was doing what he did best: Managing. A black Motorola flip cellphone glued to his ear, Marty was working on logistics for the keynote speaker at the opening plenary. Benjamin Netanyahu wanted to speak, but Shimon Peres was the president and was next in line. Marty never lost his composure. His salt and pepper wavy hair was immaculate; he dressed to the nines; he wore power casual loafers. He never broke a sweat. You could not read him. He had a secret, and you wanted to know the secret, too, so you followed him around. He oozed that charisma everywhere he went. I would never knew him not to be a fashion plate: He did not disappoint on the day I met him.

Some of you know the story - I was geting my press releases ready for the media onslaught. I made plenty of copies of my three now-famous press releases (see below). I was feeling my prowess - dressed in a velour heather-grey short-sleeved turtleneck sweater and a black velour skirt cut above the knee; patterned black hose; black pumps. Screamingly understated. Center of attention. Much as I had dressed during my music career when I was playing my fretless Fender Precision/Jazz bass every night. I was still that rock star.

As I came out of the press area, I spied Marty and walked toward him, pointing to my name tag. We stood, frozen, and then we embraced, roaring with nervous laughter. In all the time I was preparing for the GA, which had been at least six weeks, including the assassination, I had never met Marty. We heard about each other. We were supposed to be at meetings together, but I was so wrapped up in my own work that I never left the office. We were about to head into a very tumultuous and uncertain time in Jewish life, and we both knew it: The thousands of us who were there at that moment could not escape from that uneasy feeling - what Marty used to call "free-floating anxiety," which has always been felt by the Jewish people.

Here it was, again, this time in our generation - and we were ordained to figure our way out of it. This time, anyway.

The rest is commentary.

2011-09-06T08:36:00.001-04:00

Play Guitar Like A Pro!

I am accepting beginners through intermediate players ($60/hr.) in a variety of musical styles. I will help develop the students' love of music, while nurturing their desire to learn.

My specialties include:

- Acoustic guitar
- Electric guitar
- Electric bass

I will include some theory, reading, and harmony and work on ear training, enabling students to listen and reproduce what they are hearing.

In addition to the pure joy of playing our instrument, I use a variety of other resources, including my wealth of hand-picked "favorites" on YouTube and other sites. I'm user-friendly; my students can always email me, send me links, and ask my assistance between lessons.

New this year: In celebration of guitar great Django Reinhardt, and for those students who would like to learn the Gypsy jazz style, I will be teaching authentic comping chords, patterns and scales.

Whenever possible, I will host a special workshop or master class that will feature noted musicians.

Also new this year:

I am very excited to announce that I can accommodate one student who would like to learn how to play Renaissance lute ($90/hr). The student will use one of my Hieber 8-course lutes and will learn to read the musical notation that was used in the 1500s. Learn the music that Shakespeare heard, and find out firsthand why Sting loves the lute!

My prices are affordable (Renaissance lute is higher due to instrument maintenance), and my hours are flexible. Evenings and weekend hours are available and some mornings.

Play guitar like a pro!

Visit the hot link at the top of the page or visit http://www.thumbtack.com/nj/teaneck/guitar-lessons/guitar-bass-lessons

2011-06-13T12:50:00.002-04:00

Weizmann Institute to Broadcast Total Lunar Eclipse, June 15, 2011

On Wednesday, June 15, the Weizmann Institute’s Clore Garden of Science will open at 7:00 p.m. (Israel time) for a viewing of an unusually long total lunar eclipse. The event will include telescope sightings, a lecture and educational activities, as well as a large-screen viewing of the eclipse transmitted from the Martin S. Kraar Observatory at the Institute.

The telescopic view of the eclipse will also be webcast live via the Internet later in the night:

http://video.weizmann.ac.il/davidson/live-astronomy.html

A lunar eclipse occurs when the moon passes through the shadow of the Earth. Sunlight that will ring the Earth will cast light on the moon giving it a reddish glow.

This eclipse will not be visible in North America, and we can take pride in knowing that the Weizmann Institute joins a handful of observatories around the globe who will be broadcasting the event over the Internet, in the true spirit of bringing science to the people and encouraging global science literacy.

2011-06-06T19:11:00.000-04:00

Weizmann Institute Observatory Captures Images of a New Supernova

REHOVOT, ISRAEL—June 6, 2011—Exploding stars are the “factories” that produce all the heavy elements found, among other places, in our bodies. In this sense, we are all stardust. These exploding stars – supernovae – are highly energetic events that can occasionally light up the night sky. Such an explosion generally involves disruption in the balance between gravity – which pulls the star’s material inward – and the thermonuclear reaction at the star’s core – which heats it and pushes it outward.

Certain types of stars that go in this way have a much bigger mass (10-100 times) and are much younger than our sun. In them, the nuclear reaction begins like that of our sun – fusing hydrogen into helium – but the fusion then continues, producing heavier and heavier elements. The nuclear reaction eventually stops with iron, as there is no energy benefit to the star to fuse the heavier atoms, and the balance between gravity and thermonuclear activity comes to a halt. Gravity then takes over, and the mass of the star collapses quickly, releasing so much energy in the process that the explosion ensues. The star hurls its outer layers into space, and a new “bright star” appears in the night sky where none was seen before. Just such a new star was observed in the night sky between May 31 and June 1 in a spiral arm of our galaxy’s close neighbor, M51.

The first to identify the supernova were amateur astronomers in France, and soon after it was detected by the PTF Sky Survey, in which Weizmann Institute scientists participate. The phenomenon was also photographed in the new Martin Kraar Observatory at the Weizmann Institute, as well as in Tel Aviv University’s Wise Observatory in Mitzpe Ramon. Israel’s place on the globe enables its scientists to follow supernova events when it is daytime for many other observers, and thus to add significantly to the data collection.

The new supernova is being studied by an international team of researchers, including Dr. Avishay Gal-Yam and his research team including Drs. Ofer Yaron, David Polishook and Dong Xu, research students Iair Arcavi and Sagi Ben Ami and Director of the Kraar Observatory, Ilan Manulis, all of the Weizmann Institute’s Particle Physics and Astrophysics Department, as well as scientists from the US, England, Canada and other countries. They have already noted that the material thrown into space in the explosion contains a wide variety of elements. The mix they observed is atypical of supernova events at such an early stage of the explosion, and they plan to investigate this phenomenon.

The last supernova observed in M51 (which is a mere 26 million light years away) occurred in 2005. Supernovae are thought to appear about once in 100 years in any given galaxy. The high occurrence in M51 can be explained by its interaction with a nearby galaxy, which causes the process of massive star formation to accelerate, thus increasing the rate of collapse and explosion, as well.

Gal-Yam: “We invite any amateur astronomers who may have viewed the event to send us their time-dated photos. Collaboration with amateurs is very important to us and, in this case, it might help us pinpoint the exact time of the explosion.”

Any photos of the M51 galaxy taken between May 30 and June 2 can be sent to ptf11eon@gmail.com. If the image is used in scientific publications, contributors will receive credit.

2011-06-02T16:39:00.001-04:00

2011-05-18T11:34:00.001-04:00

2011-05-11T08:45:00.001-04:00

HOLD THE DATE! Franglais @ Jalopy Theatre May 19 @ 10 pm

New York, NY May 11, 2011 - New York-based Gypsy swing band Franglais will be celebrating the arrival of their new CD, Un Grand Bonheur (Great Happiness), with a release party at the Jalopy Theatre on Thursday, May 19 at 10 p.m.

The new CD is a blend of music old and new, with layers of influence and a continuing conversation between the generations of a great American art form, namely, jazz. But how American is it? The CD poses a musical conversation on the topic.

“If Gypsy jazz is what happens when Django, a Manouche Gypsy, interpreted American jazz, then Franglais' music is what happens when American jazz musicians interpret Gypsy jazz,” says the band’s vocalist, Eve Selzer, who came up with the band’s name Franglais.

“It’s a word that describes the American version of pidgin French,” Seltzer explains. “For example, we speak of pie a la mode, or toss a French phrase into casual conversation to sound sophisticated. The name is a somewhat tongue-in-cheek description of the concept of the band.”

According to bandleader and arranger Ben Wood, “Franglais is all about fusing textures and sounds from different eras. I mean really, a Gypsy jazz band with a full time vocalist? Made up entirely of Americans who play Lady Gaga, and Green Day? It sounds like jazz and we love it!”

The repertoire of the band encompasses the traditional sounds of Django Reinhardt’s trademark Gypsy swing, but it also embraces popular songs -- songs to which the band members feel connected.

The band members have very diverse listening habits. Wood’s favorites include Gypsy jazz guitar virtuosi Sebastien Gineaux, Adrien Moignard, Mathieu Chatlan, Bireli Largrene and Hono Winterstien. Selzer and bassis Piruz Partow have diverse musical palates -- everything from classic bebop (Bird, Duke Ellington, Mingus) to punk and rock (Green Day, MC5, Phish). Guitarst Justin Lees style reflects his diverse musical passions. He has been mentored by guitar greats Herb Ellis, Howard Alden, Emily Remler and Danny Gatton, among others.

Un Grand Bonheur encompasses Stevie Wonder to Green Day's "Boulevard of Broken Dreams.” Reworkings of classic pop songs have always been a part of jazz -- and one of the few ways jazz music keeps up with the times- to play a tune like Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi,” plus, says Wood, it was a lot of fun for the band members too see the light of recognition on audience members faces as they realize what this tune actually is.

The band gives a nod to the French culture, which is a strong influence, and they wanted to include an update of the classic Edith Piaf number, "La Vie En Rose.”

Seltzer’s voice adds a distinct acknowledgement of tradition coupled with the edge of adventure.

“I was raised on a diet of folk and rock music at home,” she says. “My mother adored the Beatles, and my father loved Hoyt Axton, Johnny Cash, and the Kingston Trio. When I started singing classical music in choir at age 8, I discovered the music that my father locked himself up in his study to listen to: opera and chorale. My first exposure to jazz was in my school band, where I played trombone from grades 5 through 10.”

Seltzer lists her music teachers, Barry Harris and Rodney Kendrick, as influences on her music. “I would also like to think that Abbey Lincoln would enjoy us.”

One collaborator on the project is fellow New Yorker Ted Gottsegen, a staple of the Gypsy swing scene.

“Ted was full of ideas for Franglais during his brief time with the band,” says Wood. “We still use his arrangement concepts for a number of tunes, including several that aren't on the CD. Plus, he's a lot of fun to be around.”

The CD was recorded at Second Story sound in Chinatown, with engineering by Jeff Cook. Seltzer is the engineer responsible for mixing, editing, and mastering the project.

This recording is different from the first CD for several reasons: The biggest reason is that this is the band that has been playing together for over two years; and unlike the band’s last CD this one features just the band members with no guest artists.

“That allowed us to choose some of the more interesting songs we play, and allowed us to come to the recording session with basic arrangements already worked out and honed by about a year or so of live gigs,” says Wood. “Plus, this one actually represents what we sound like when we gig!”

Franglais will perform its latest CD release, Un Grand Bonheur, at the Jalopy Theatre Thursday, May 19, which is located at 315 Columbia Street in Brooklyn. Opening act will be the Daryus Schieder Trio. For details visit www.jalopy.biz.

Visit the Franglais' myspace link at www.myspace.com/franglaisswings

2011-03-17T12:13:00.001-04:00

A letter home from sea

We were looking through some things in a box of my mother's belongings, and we stumbled across this letter that I had written seemingly in another life....

2011-03-14T00:59:00.000-04:00

Danny Stiles - Our personal private mentsch and music maven:
We are missing you so much

With the passing of Danny Stiles, the world has lost an encyclopaedic maven of music who had a front seat at the inception of America's greatest music form, and who took impeccable notes. We lost a dear friend, mentor and confidante. Miriam "gave" Danny to me after she befriended him a few years ago. My best memory was being with him for dinner at a nice Italian restaurant on the Jersey side. Miriam sat down next to him and the two looked like old friends, same expression, same posture. She was 17 and he was 83. It was one of those enchanted nights of music, good company and lively conversation.

I can't say it any better than the way my daughter, Miriam, said it in a letter to Danny's younger fellow jazz- and popologist, Rich Conaty, who spins all the greats on his show, The Big Broadcast on WFUV. Rich did a tribute to Danny Stiles tonight.

Miriam writes:

Hi Rich,

I wanted to extend a personal thank you tonight for a beautiful tribute show to Danny Stiles. If you recall, I'm that kid who wrote to you a few months ago about trying to get a Big Broadcast/Music Museum-type show on the air at Barnard College. To my unending frustration, I never managed to get that off the ground, though not for lack of trying; I've vowed that when the good folks at WBAR get their act together, I'll try again.

You may also recall that part of Danny's radio repertoire was a summons to "precocious teenagers" everywhere to tune in and get hip to the Oldies; I was - and still am - one of those precocious teenagers. I met Danny when he was 83 and I was 17, when I was a bright-eyed youngster who loved vinyl (and wax!) and he was an encyclopedic veteran. He knew it all, and I wanted to learn it all. I think he got a kick out of my diehard dedication to that music - almost like he himself didn't fully believe there were actually any "precocious teenagers" out there until I came along.

Often, I would stop in at his office to visit with him and sit in on his recording sessions. Once he even cleared me for entry to the old NPR studio at Chambers Street, and I sat in while he recorded his 2-hour Saturday night show (which I then listened to again that night on the air). I like to think we were like Plato and Socrates - except that we sometimes exchanged Yiddish instead of Greek.

Danny would always talk about how he was one of the very last guys on the air to do what he did - and what you, Sir Conaty, still do. And it breaks my heart to think that we're now one more down for the count.

I'm still a precocious youngster - I'm now 21 - and I'm still a devoted student of this music. Time to take up the mantle myself, it seems.

Keep doing what you're doing; it keeps Danny's mission alive. It's the best tribute you could pay him.

Again, thank you for tonight's show.

Your big fan and pupil,
Miriam

2011-01-26T13:05:00.001-05:00

Please join me on Jan. 30 at the Bowery Poetry Club for this event. Amram has asked me to recite a Kerouac poem that these two cultural icons performed together in the 1950s. What a thrill and an honour for me to help usher in the young man's new decade!

Celebrating A Musical Icon At 80

By CARY ABRAMS, East Village

Courtesy David AmramDavid Amram will celebrate his 80th birthday with a fundraiser at the Bowery Poetry Club Jan. 30.

The rapidly altering Bowery landscape might prove disorienting to someone who first performed at the fabled Five Spot jazz club in 1956, then located on the Bowery at Fifth Street. For David Amram this isn’t the case, as he prepares to celebrate his 80th birthday at a fund raiser for The Community-Word Project on Jan. 30 at The Bowery Poetry Club. A long-time downtown resident, Mr. Amram has continued to create music, perform and remain vital over the past half century. He explains that “It’s important for young artists to see it’s possible to lead a creative life in the arts.’

Internationally known as a composer, multi-instrumentalist, conductor and author, Mr. Amram has composed more than one hundred orchestral and chamber music works, along with film scores such as those for “Splendor in the Grass” and “The Manchurian Candidate.” He has collaborated with a vast legion of performers including Charles Mingus, Willie Nelson, Dizzy Gillespie, Langston Hughes, Bob Dylan, Miles Davis, Nina Simone, and scores of others. In 1966, Leonard Bernstein chose him as the first guest composer-in-residence of The New York Philharmonic.

Amram remembers living on Eighth Street between Avenues B and C from 1955 to 1957 and recalls the creative community existing on the Lower East Side during that period as poets, musicians, painters, photographers, playwrights and filmmakers gathered in Village bars such as The Cedar Tavern, The San Remo and The Five Spot. He helped organize early readings where poets including Jack Kerouac, Phillip Lamantia and Howard Hart read to musical accompaniment.

In 1959 he composed the music for, as well as acting in, “Pull My Daisy,” the classic underground film shot in director Alfred Leslie’s Lower East Side loft. Both Mr. Leslie who directed the film and Robert Frank who filmed it continue to live in the neighborhood.
Mr. Amram has written three books which trace his career and describe his collaborations with Mr. Kerouac and other artists.

Burt GlinnMr. Amram playing the Five Spot jazz club, 1957.

Mr. Amram will be performing with his quartet at The Bowery Poetry Club along with surprise guests. Actor John Ventimiglia of The Sopranos will read passages from Mr. Kerouac’s work to Mr. Amram’s accompaniment. Mr. Amram’s three children, Adira, Alana and Adam will also be performing. Mr. Amram invites all to join him in the celebration of his Lower East Side roots. Certainly attendees are in for a rare treat in having the opportunity of seeing a legend perform. I look forward to seeing you there.

2010-12-28T10:43:00.003-05:00

Sheloshim Service in memory of Martin S. Kraar

Thursday, December 23, 2010
LAST UPDATED: THURSDAY DECEMBER 23, 2010, 1:24 AM

TEANECK SUBURBANITE

"A Celebration of Life" Sheloshim Service in memory of Jewish Center member Martin S. Kraar was held Dec. 2, at the Jewish Center of Teaneck.

PHOTO COURTESY OF MICHAEL LAVES

Prof. Daniel Zajfman, president of the Weizmann Institute of Science, Rehovot, Israel, speaking about Marty Kraar's work at the American Committee for the Weizmann Institute of Science.

Rabbi Lawrence Zierler of the Jewish Center, said, "We gathered on the first day of Hanukkah which marks the conclusion of the sheloshim - 30 day period since his death, to recognize and celebrate his life of service and commitment to the needs of our community."
Several dignitaries and close friends spoke during the Sheloshim Service in memory of Kraar. Among them were Prof. Daniel Zajfman, president of the Weizmann Institute of Science, Rehovot, Israel; Larry Blumberg, Chairman of the American Committee for the Weizmann Institute of Science; Harold Adler, Chief Operating Officer, American Committee, and Rabbi Lawrence S. Zierler, Jewish Center of Teaneck.
Kraar achieved renown and distinction not only as a Jewish communal executive but as a mentor and friend to colleagues across the generations and globe.
He served for 10 years as the Executive Vice President of the American Committee for the Weizmann Institute of Science; and before his appointment with ACWIS, another decade as Executive Vice President of the Council of Jewish Federations, the precursor to what is now the Jewish Federations of North America.
Kraar also held the lead executive position with the Jewish Federations of Detroit, St. Louis, and Nashville. From 1984-86, he was the first Director General of the Council of Jewish Federations Israel Office.
He also served as an instructor and trainer for various Jewish Federations, national Jewish agencies, and other organizations on such topics as leadership development, facilitation training, board-staff relationships, and non-profit management.
Rabbi Zierler said, "His untimely passing denies our Jewish world of a faithful friend and talented leader who taught and led by example and represented the highest ideals of Jewish communal service and concern for the needs of Klal Yisrael."

2010-11-16T10:16:00.001-05:00

Please join us for the Marty Kraar Memorial Service

Time	Thursday, December 2, from 11:30am - approximately 2 pm

Location	Jewish Center of Teaneck 70 Sterling Place Teaneck, NJ

Created By	The Leadership Lounge

More Info	We will celebrate the life and times one of the great leaders and visionaries of our generation. Marty Kraar exemplified making a difference where most people could only dream about it. MARK YOUR CALENDARS AND PLEASE JOIN US.

2010-11-16T10:13:00.001-05:00

I thought you might like to learn a few things about my late, great husband. I hope it will inspire you to greater heights.

Fifteen years of devotion

Fifteen years ago today I met Marty at the Council of Jewish Federations General Assembly in Boston. It was a fateful day that changed everything. I thought you might like to learn a few things about my late, great husband. I hope it will inspire you to greater heights. In the spirit of Marty Kraar, our consulting business, Kraar Associates, will will continue to grow and flourish as it has been doing.

- Lynda

KRAAR ASSOCIATES

Martin S. Kraar Associates

Partner

Marty Kraar has been one of the Top Ten influential leaders in Jewish life for the past 40 years, and he shows no sign of slowing down. He has been central to the “Alphabet Soup” of organizational life. He has reengineered agencies, renewed relationships, consulted with top philanthropists globally, Jewish and Israeli organizations, individuals, foundations, and has even built buildings. Marty and his wife and partner, Lynda, pioneered in creating Kraar Associates, a boutique consulting firm serving Israel-based organizations and and global philanthropists in creating programs and services that would be transform Israel and Israel-Diaspora relationship. The Kraars were listed on the The Forward Fifty as a “power couple” in communal life.

Before venturing out on his own to form Kraar Associates with Lynda, Marty’s last appointment was as Executive Vice President of the American Committee for the Weizmann Institute of Science (ACWIS), where, under his leadership, fundraising increased fourfold, topping the unprecedented $125 million mark, and relations with the Israel-based Institute were never closer or clearer. This prompted Kraar to build unique relationships with philanthropists in order to make things happen that would change the human condition and improve Israel and her standing in the world.

Prior to his position at ACWIS, Marty headed the Council of Jewish Federations for a decade where he managed Jewish service organizations in 200 communities throughout Canada and the United States, serving millions of Jews in North America, Israel and abroad.

Born in Atlanta and raised in Chattanooga, Marty cut his teeth in the Jewish communal world of the South as a social worker in Jackson, Mississippi, where he ran a treatment facility for troubled teenagers. From there he became director of the Memphis Jewish Community Centre before moving on to head Nashville’s JCC, where he succeeded in the process of moving the facility to the newly constructed building of their dreams. He would do this over and over again, in communities such as St. Louis and Detroit, which ultimately catapulted him to New York City and the lead national position at CJF.

Marty’s love of Israel is profound and proactive. As a student at the Hebrew University, Marty learned to speak, read and write fluent Hebrew. He was involved in the immigration of Moroccan Jews, whom he would meet on the tarmac and help transfer to absorption centers. He has the distinction of being the first Director General of the Israel Office of the Council of Jewish Federations in the mid-1980s, where his experience with new immigrants served him well as he facilitated the airlift of tens of thousands of Ethiopian Jews – Beta Israel – to Israel. Israel has had a profound impact on his life choices and the last forty years has been spent in activities that build bridges between Jews around the world and Israel.

The relationship with philanthropy and foundations for the past four decades prompted Kraar to design approaches to funding that were client and donor centered. His philosophy has always been that his major job as a consultant is to help donors feel connected and realizing their goals and dreams. Doing that, he says, will certainly make a difference to them and their life and to Israel.

Being a social worker, psychologist and trained in non-profit management has provided him with the tools to look at situations from a variety of points of view and focus on the issues in a real way. In addition to his numerous professional involvements, affiliations and recognitions, Marty has taught management personnel administration and supervision courses and has served as a lecturer, instructor and trainer for various Jewish federations, national Jewish agencies, and other organizations on such topics as leadership development, facilitation training, board/staff relationships and non-profit management and Israel-Diaspora relationships.

Kraar Associates' clients are transformational organizations and philanthropists who start with dreams and build them to reality. Marty believes that consultation at Kraar Associates must be value-added or it will be another voice in the wilderness!

2010-10-02T01:52:00.011-04:00

I'll be singing with the Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus at this event. Don't forget to say hello!

Join us on Tues., Oct. 12, for

The All-Star New York Yiddish Sing-along

Here is a letter from the event's organizer, Moishe Rosenfeld...

Dear Friends,

I'm delighted to announce that the next All Star New York Yiddish Sing-along will take place on Tuesday, October 12, at 7:30pm at Congregation Rodeph Sholom, 7 West 83rd Street.

This will be the third such event in recent years led by the inimitable artistic director of the National Yiddish Theater - Folksbiene Zalmen Mlotek. The large audiences that attended the earlier two Yiddish Sing-alongs found themselves in the warm embrace of a heymish community sharing songs that evoked memories of a vibrant Yiddish speaking world, and connections to its glorious culture. The high percentage of younger participants was yet another sign that Yiddish is very much alive and will be part of the New York experience for generations to come.

This year's line-up of singers includes some of our most popular performers of Jewish music - artists who travel the world, and perform in a wide range of musical genres: Cantor Bob Abelson, Phyllis Berk, Joanne Borts, Adrienne Cooper, Magda Fishman, Cantor Rebecca Garfein, Annette Ezekiel Kogan, Avram Mlotek, Avram Pengas, Daniella Rabbani, Basya Schechter, Di Shekhter Tekhter, Cantor Dan Singer, Zalmen Mlotek's Yiddish Singers, The Folksbiene Troupe, The Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus/yidisher filharmonisher folks khor, under the musical direction of Binyumen Schaechter - and some special surprise performers.

There will be a Klezmer band accompanying the concert - with some of our finest musicians, including Margot Leverett, Marty Confurius, Matt Temking and others.

Every song will be available in transliteration so that every audience member will be able to fully participate and fill the glorious sanctuary of Congregation Rodeph Sholem with the sounds of Mame-loshn. Our emcee will be that debonair Yiddishist from Avantura - Corey Breier.

The concert is presented by Golden Land Concerts & Connections, with support from the National Yiddish Theater - Folksbiene, The Workmen's Circle/ Arbeter-Ring, League for Yiddish/Afn Shvel, Yugntruf, Congregation Rodeph Sholom, Congress for Jewish Culture, Yiddish Artists & Friends/ Actors Club/Yiddish Theatrical Alliance.

General admission tickets are $20 if purchased in advance, and $22 on the day of the concert. VIP reserved seating, with a post concert wine reception sponsored by City Winery, will be $50 if purchased in advance, and $60 on the day of the concert. Group rates - 15 or more tickets - 20% discount if purchased in advance.

For more information visit www.goldenland.com/singalong2010.htm, call 212-683-7816 or write to concerts@goldenland.com. There is a Facebook event called "Golden Land's Third Annual All Star New York Yiddish Sing-along. Please join us and help spread the word.

Wishing everyone a gut, gebentsht yor.

Sincerely,

Moishe Rosenfeld, President
Golden Land Concerts & Connections, Inc.
118 East 28th Street - Room 304
New York, NY 10016
Phone: 212-683-7816
Fax: 212-213-2033
www.goldenland.com
concerts@goldenland.com

Top photo: Joanne Borts
Bottom photo: Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus

2010-10-02T00:47:00.009-04:00

GET IN ON THE HOT CLUB ACTION!!!

Co-sponsored by Kraar Associates
it's the....

2010 Brooklyn and Boston Djangology Festival
October 15 - through 17

Mark your calendars and JOIN US for a festival that will celebrate 100 years since the birth of Django Reinhardt, the world's most influential and innovative guitarist of the 20th century. Django was a Belgian-born Gypsy who married the influences of Gypsy music with the jazz standards that were popular in his heyday. He did this despite a crippling burn injury to his fretting hand that left him with two disabled fingers. He has left a legacy of music and followers that has continued to bring joy to the world. He has inspired international gatherings that are affectionately known as Djangofests. At these events some of the world's finest guitarists mingle with guitar-aficionado festival attendees for friendly marathon jam sessions -- boeufs -- that can go all night long.

The New York and Boston events are being organized by Ben Wood, the Jalopy Theatre, Jack Soref and the Atwoods Tavern. The official festival poster has been designed by artist Tom Seltzer.

The festival will feature the one and only Gypsy jazz guitarist, singer and bandleader Titi Bamberger from Germany. Beloved and respected by musicians and fans, Titi is an icon of the European Gypsy jazz scene. In addition to making his rare North American appearance in this festival, Titi will also be available for master classes and private lessons. Those interested should contact lyndakraar@aol.com as soon as possible to reserve a time.

Of course, each event will be followed by a good, old-fashioned boeuf. So bring your guitar and get ready to jam.

Here is some more info about Titi including a few links:

http://www.djangobooks.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=5143

IMPORTANT NOTE -- In the midst of the mirth-making, we feel obligated to shed light on the plight of the Roma community in Europe today. We will have updates available at our shows, including information on how you can take a leadership role in activism. YOU can help by spreading awareness and communicating our outrage at the treatment of the Roma to our elected officials.

For tickets and information, contact the venues at the phone numbers below, or email me at lyndakraar@aol.com. See you there. Be in touch with your questions and comments! Here's the details:

The Jalopy Theatre
315 Columbia Street, Brooklyn, NY, 11231
Purchase tickets by calling (718) 395-3214

Friday, October 15
8 pm Hot Club of Hell’s Kitchen http://www.hotclubfromhell.com/
8:50 pm Hot Club Thing http://www.facebook.com/hotclubthing
9:40 pm Luke Hendon Trio http://www.myspace.com/lukehendon-music
10:30 pm Stephane Wrembel http://www.stephanewrembel.com/
11:20 pm Special guest Titi Bamberger sponsored by Kraar Associates http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDDOtoJx_yM&feature=player_embedded
12:10 am Blue Plate Special http://www.myspace.com/blueplatespecialmusic

Saturday, October 16
8 pm Jack Soref http://www.jacksoref.com/
8:50 pm Hot Club of D.C. http://hcofdc.com/gypsy-jazz.html
9:40 pm Franglais http://www.myspace.com/franglaisswings
10:30 pm Special guest Titi Bamberger sponsored by Kraar Associates http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDDOtoJx_yM&feature=player_embedded
11:20 pm Jason Anick http://www.jasonanick.com/live/
12:10 am The Chicken Thieves http://www.thechickenthieves.com/home/

Boston Djangology Festival
Atwoods Tavern
877 Cambridge Street, Cambridge, Ma, 02141
Purchase tickets by calling (617) 864-2792
Sunday, October 17
4 pm Jack Soref http://www.jacksoref.com/
4:50 pm Jason Anick http://www.jasonanick.com/live/
5:40 pm Franglais http://www.myspace.com/franglaisswings
6.30 pm Special guest Titi Bamberger sponsored by Kraar Associates http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDDOtoJx_yM&feature=player_embedded
7:25 pm Hot Club Thing http://www.facebook.com/hotclubthing
8:15 pm The Chicken Thieves http://www.thechickenthieves.com/home/

Photo credits:
Both colour photos taken at the Djangofest in Samois sur Seine, June, 2010. Top picture by Hinrich Wulff - Lynda Kraar (guitar), Judy Rankin (guitar) and the internationally acclaimed guitar virtuoso Fapy Lafertin. Bottom picture by Belinda Ebeling Koning - Edward Jay (accordion - and now appearing on Broadway), Lynda Kraar (guitar), Titi Bamberger (looking on). B/W photo of Titi Bamberger by Hinrich Wulff.

2010-05-19T09:31:00.002-04:00

Lynda Marks Kraar (and special surprise guest!) on REW & WHO

Fast forward the cursor and check me out at 28:43 on the time stamp. Edgy and wild! As always!

2010-05-10T09:01:00.002-04:00

See me on the web this Wednesday!

**ReW & WhO?***
WaTCh this Week... wed MaY 12~~~4-6pm

'andy warhol 15 minutes of fame interviews'
rizing *starz* & living legendz...
*aLwaYz SurPriZeS**

please tune in watch LIVE
@ www.ariZZmaRadio.com

...& call in at 212-283 3437
JoVaN {JoEy TaYlor} is the WhO?

4:15...macha einbender
4:30...Candice Anitra
4:45...Ryan Coyle
5:00...Aaron Friedman MMNY
5:15...Lynda Kraar
55:30...Mixed SigNaLs

***ReW & WhO??***

www.youtube.com/rewandwho

--
www.youtube.com/rewandwho
www.facebook.com/rew.starr
www.myspace.com/rewstarr
www.twitter.com/rewstarr
www.sonicbids.com/rew

to get downloadz/cd*s...from that*S*rite...
featuring Rew*s smash cult classic..'u suck'
http://cdbaby.com/rewmusic

2010-05-07T19:41:00.002-04:00

2010-03-12T09:30:00.000-05:00

OMG!! I won! Thank you, No Depression! Thank you, John Hiatt!

I was minding my own business, checking email when the latest edition of No Depression flew into my email box. There was a contest: Post your favourite John Hiatt song, and why it's your favourite. I posted the paragraph below and was just happy to gush about one of the greatest living songwriters among a group of like-minded kindreds.

The next day I heard back from No Depression. I had won the contest! My prize: I get a complete set of the John Hiatt catalogue from his record company and an autographed CD - his latest.

Here's my entry....

Learning How to Love You has all the earmarks of a Great American Songbook classic. The lyrics could stand on their own as a poem but this timeless ballad is also an excellent example of solid composition. In this song you get a strong sense of the music that has influenced John Hiatt and you want to be with him on the journey. Notwithstanding all that jazz, Learning How to Love You moves me to my core. He nailed it.1

2010-02-27T12:01:00.002-05:00

Thrilled that "Fashioning My Dad After Myself" has been selected for the New Jersey Women's and Gender Conference.

Trainer and hair appointment, STAT!

2010-02-27T11:56:00.000-05:00

Rehashing an old post about the Jewishness of some music -
This was my response to a thread on heavy metal which apparently made me go off like a shredder.
Lynda

This may be yesterday's news, but I was deeply saddened and disappointed when I did a search for Lipa Meltzer's excellent video, "Abi Me'lebt," and discovered that it had been ostracised for not being Jewish enough, since the Zulu melody was smuggled out of South Africa by Pete Seeger during those terrible times when whites were still segregating in the USA.

Yet Ashrei Ha'Gever (basic doo-wop 1-6-4-5) is glatt, because it was composed on Tin Pan Alley by Jews who were "creating" the Harlem blacks' style?!

WTF?

Everywhere in the world where we have been we have absorbed other cultures -- and we've also made an impact on local cultures. So now some aphonic shill who gets paid as a "higher authority (gag!)" is going to dictate that Jewish music is only the music that Jews absorbed 900 years ago as we made our way from the Gural into Poland and eastern Europe? Have you been in a Polish tavern lately? You'd easily recognize half of the "niggunim" -- I dunno what else to call them.

So now everyone is shocked when we've started going all pentatonic here in the States after around 200 years as guests here.

Or they talk about the "new" Mizrachi style that is emanating from Israel. LOL!! That's a hoot and a half. If you believe that we are a Levantine nation, then you have to believe that we schlepped the eastern scales and instruments across the globe and then landed them in Europe where they met and married the Gural sound. Sorta like a Jewish bluegrass of the day, if you know your ethnomusicology.

So what is Jewish music, exactly?

And why, if I compose a soca version of "Adon Olam/Lord of the Universe" and have a Carib singer do the track, is that NOT considered Jewish? Worse yet -- what happens if it takes off and becomes a hit throughout the Caribbean in time for the Catholic Carnivale? Am I worthy of being ostracised?

Then we have a real problem with Irving Berlin. Can any composer really argue with his melody lines? The guy was brilliant. Does his music make him any less of a Jew? And if so, does the fact that the majority of Xmas light companies are Jewish-owned make their contributions to Jewish philanthropies any less kosher?

Now there's a song that needs to be written...where's Bob Dylan when we really need him? ;->

Lynda Kraar
aka Guitargirl

2010-02-07T19:06:00.002-05:00

Attn: Bergen Community College students -
A call for creative submissions

The Labyrinth invites BCC students to contribute short stories, poetry, prose, memoirs, song lyrics and artwork. This official literary publication of BCC offers a great opportunity for writer of all levels to have their works published. It looks great on your resume. Submit your works to jzorn@bergen.edu ASAP: The March 1 deadline is approaching!
If you would like to discuss this with me privately, please email me at lyndakraar@aol.com.

Humbly submitted,
Lynda Kraar
Labyrinth Editor in Chief

2010-01-28T14:26:00.000-05:00

Just a few days BEFORE 65 years ago today (Auschwitz liberation day), my father, Abraham Siedlecki (Auschwitz # 111855) escaped from Auschwitz with two friends - Jakob Strauss and Rachmiel Hochman. The rest is commentary.

2010-01-26T11:05:00.002-05:00

New gypsy jazz vids posted to YouTube

"NEW" GYPSY JAZZ VIDS POSTED TO YOUTUBE:

IT'S NOT *JUST* ABOUT THE MUSIC!

In case you were not able to celebrate Django Reinhardt's 100th birthday with a musical melee, please visit:

www.youtube.com/guitargirl4scrabble

You will find four vid clips from the festivities in Brooklyn from Stephane Wrembel's "Django-A-Go-Go" which featured the music of the master AND discussion about the plight of Gypsies in Europe, and what kind of activism can be done in the USA to help pressure governments to protect and preserve Gypsy culture. Roma spokesman and activist (and virtuoso guitarist/Django descendant) Maie Bittel articulated some of these points to the enthusiastic audience. He said that the music of Gypsies has never been more popular than it is right now; however, times have never been as bad as they have in some of the EU member countries for Gypsies. Mr. Bittel appealed to the governments to allow and protect the Gypsy culture. He is a guitar star in his own right. DON'T MISS the vids, which were created by my wonderful and talented daughter, Miriam. :)

Here's my caption for the vid clips at http://www.youtube.com/guitargirl4scrabble --

Django A Go Go at Barbes in Park Slope, Brooklyn on Sunday, Jan. 24, 2010 featured Stephane Wrembel, Maie Bittel, Biel Ballester, Ted Gottsegen's amazing guitar, "Babik" plus others onstage for a great jam and musical discourse and discussion about the plight of gypsies, particularly in Europe.

2010-01-07T21:47:00.001-05:00

It's not too early to mark your calendars...

2009-08-24T14:01:00.003-04:00

Thank you, Jewish Tribune!

The Jewish Tribune

July 2, 2009/

Tamuz 10, 5769

Page 9

FEATURES

HOLOCAUST BOOKS

Azrieli Foundation aims to preserve Holocaust survivors’ memories

Tevy Pilc

Staff Writer

TORONTO – “I was trembling with terror, unsure of what I should say but suddenly I could hear inside my head what my father said after his interrogation: The pain of a slap on the face will go away but the spoken word will remain,” reads Paul-Henri Rips from E/96: Fate Undecided, where he looked death in the eye in the form of a German soldier after he and the boys in his Belgium school were rounded up. E/96: Fate Undecided is a part of the second series of Holocaust survivor memoirs, published and released by the Azrieli Foundation, a Canadian philanthropic organization founded by Israeli real estate mogul David Azrieli. More than 800 attendees got an increasing rare opportunity to hear Holocaust survivors tell their stories in person at the book launch recently at the Winter Garden Theatre.

The event was hosted by veteran CBC journalist Joe Schlesinger and included a keynote address by Nechama Tec, whose 1993 book Defiance was made into a Hollywood movie of the same name last year.

The memoirs program was established in 2005, with thepurpose of preserving and sharing the memoirs and diaries written by Holocaust survivors who later made their way to Canada. After writing and publishing his own story, Azrieli began collecting personal testimonies, manuscripts and other firsthand accounts of the Holo-caust, which would translate into the 2007 release of the first series of books.

The second features eight volumes with five in English, three in French featuring heart-wrenching tales of enduring the war in ghettos, concentration and labour camps, hiding with non-Jews or in the forest, or by fleeing to the Soviet Union. Readings were delivered in person as well as by living relatives including Lynda Kraar, who read from Album of My Life, which her mother Ann Szedlecki completed shortly before her death four years ago.

“The deterioration of my sweet, dear brother will always be the most painful chapter of my life,” read Kraar, vividly describing the dark days her mother spent caring for her brother, her last living family member, who was sent to a labour camp in the Soviet Union where he contracted tuberculosis, eventually succumbing to it at 23. Knowing the decision would cost her, she took three days off work after his death. She too was sent to labour camp, which she survived and eventually began a new life after immigrating to Canada in 1953.

Naomi Azrieli, the foundation’s executive director, said the program is about more than honouring and remembering the survivors. She spoke about the recent success of the memoirs, despite diminishing numbers of remaining survivors. Like the first series, the new books are made available free to libraries, schools and Holocaust-education programs and at events sponsored by the foundation. They may also be downloaded online for free at www.azrielifoundation.org.

2009-06-28T09:42:00.001-04:00

Thank you, Canadian Jewish News!

Azrieli Foundation publishes 2nd set of Holocaust memoirs

By JANICE ARNOLD, Staff Reporter

Thursday, 18 June 2009

Gathered on stage at the launch of the second series of Holocaust memoirs published by the Azrieli Foundation are, from left, Lynda Kraar, who read from her late mother Ann Szedlecki’s book; Jean-Claude Guédon, reader for author John Freund, far right; and authors Alex Levin and Paul-Henri Rips.
[Robbi Cohen, R.B.C. Productions photo]

MONTREAL — The manuscripts of memoirs by Holocaust survivors living in Canada are being rescued from oblivion under a project sponsored by prominent real estate developer David J. Azrieli, a Polish-born survivor himself.

The project solicits these writings, edits them professionally, translates them if necessary, publishes them as high quality books, and distributes them widely free of charge across Canada, without any cost to the author.

The second series of memoirs, launched in Montreal on June 7 at a gala evening, reflects the widely varying experiences of European Jewry during World War II.

The authors’ origins are in Poland, Belgium, Germany, Czechoslovakia and elsewhere, and they endured the war in ghettos, in concentration and labour camps, hiding with non-Jews or in the forest, or by fleeing to the Soviet Union.

The latest series consists of eight books (one title is available in English and French), and brings to 15 the number of different volumes the foundation has published since the project was launched in 2005.

The new books are Album of My Life by Ann Szedlecki; Under the Yellow & Red Stars by Alex Levin; A Drastic Turn of Destiny by Fred Mann; La fin du printemps by John Freund; Objectif: survivre by Tommy Dick; the Joint Memories from the Abyss/But I Had a Happy Childhood by father and daughter William Tannenzapf and Renate Krakauer; and Paul-Henri Rips’ Matricule E/96 and E/96: Fate Undecided.

All have covers of sepia-toned photos of the authors as children or young adults, trimmed in blue. The texts are illustrated with other pictures, and inside each back cover is a map by leading British Holocaust historian Martin Gilbert showing the estimated number of Jews murdered in each country during the war.

Excerpts from four of the books were read. Linda Kraar read from her mother’s book Album of My Life, which Szedlecki completed shortly before her death four years ago.

Born in the poor tenements of Lodz, Poland in 1925, Szedlecki went to the Soviet Union with her older brother to escape the Nazis, ending up in Siberia, where she recalls hunger, fear and loneliness, as well as the friendships and kindness of strangers. Her brother was falsely accused of spying and sent to a hard labour camp for 2 1/2 years, where he contracted tuberculosis and died at age 23. Szedlecki was sent to a labour camp as a punishment for taking three days off work after her brother’s death. All of her family would perish in the Holocaust. She married soon after the war and the couple immigrated to Canada in 1953. She had her own ladies’ clothing store for 25 years in Toronto and was an active community volunteer.

Rips’ idyllic childhood as the son of a diamond merchant in Antwerp, Belgium came to an abrupt end with the Nazi invasion when he was 10. He posed as a non-Jew, attending a school in an old castle. Rips narrowly avoided blowing his cover when the Gestapo came for an inspection, and again while in a transit camp. He immigrated to South Africa after the war, and came to Canada in 1997 to be with his children.

Levin, who is from a Polish village near the Soviet border, hid in the forest as a child with his brother after his mother and younger brother were killed. He remembers the constant fear and hunger, but also the routine and sense of camaraderie with others running for their lives. After liberation, he was sent to the Soviet Union as a war orphan and became a military cadet and then an engineer. Since coming to Canada in 1975, he has been a developer and builder.

Freund, born in a town south of Prague, was deported to Terezin, the “showcase” concentration camp, at age 12. A year later, he was transported to Auschwitz where he spent four months, until he and the other surviving inmates were ordered on a death march ahead of the advancing Red Army.

The excerpt from La fin du printemps was read by his friend Jean-Claude Guédon, and described that terrifying journey that only ended when U.S. troops found the starving marchers.

The memoirs project is run by the Azrieli Foundation, in association with York University’s Centre for Jewish Studies. Foundation chair and executive director Naomi Azrieli, David’s daughter, said the project so far has gone a long way towards its goal of bringing personal accounts of the Holocaust to a broad audience, especially a younger generation. These stories often have a greater impact than history texts, she said.

The first series, released in 2007, was well received by libraries and schools and the public.

“I am humbled by the response, from across the country, from people of different origins, who have written to us in French and English, that they are amazed by the stories. Libraries have told us how valuable the books are to their collections, and in schools, the books have been used in history, literature and civics courses. One grade 11 Ontario teacher assigned the reading of the whole first series to her students.”

She read a letter from one student, a girl who said she could identify in many ways with the author, that her close family life was much like hers, but she did not know if she would have the courage to continue on the way she did.

The evening’s guest speaker was Nechama Tec, the author of the 1993 book Defiance about the Bielski brothers, partisans who saved 1,200 Jews by sheltering them in the Belorussian forests. It was the basis of the Hollywood movie of the same name last year.

Tec, a retired sociology professor at the University of Connecticut, was born in Lublin, Poland in 1931, and survived by posing as the niece of a Catholic family.

The event, hosted by television and radio personality Sonia Benezra, opened with the singing by Sharon Azrieli, another daughter of David, of the Yiddish song Dort Baym Breg Fun Veldl (At the Edge of the Forest), a song about the partisans’ heroism, accompanied by violinist Deborah Kirshner.

2009-06-20T09:24:00.004-04:00

Come see my good friend Mitch Smolkin! Here are the details:

2009-06-15T08:50:00.001-04:00

JOIN ME in fetting my mother's memoir in Toronto this Monday night, June 15. READ about her book HERE:
http://www.azrielifoundation.org/memoirs/books.asp?pid=59

Happy Birthday, Mum. I know you're smiling down on us.

2009-06-05T15:27:00.002-04:00

JOIN ME in fetting my mother's memoir in Montreal this Sunday night. READ about her book HERE:

http://www.azrielifoundation.org/memoirs/books.asp?pid=59

2009-06-02T06:27:00.002-04:00

Thanks, NYC! What a great afternoon of song that was. We invite you to join us next year for another rousing concert of Yiddish song.

Meantime, please visit our website and buy a CD or our new DVD.

Interested in singing with us? Look for contact info on the website and get in touch.

PS -- We're up to six Canadians now. I say we can double that number by next season. :)

Lynda

2009-05-11T16:42:00.006-04:00

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

The Jewish People’s Philharmonic Chorus presents
“Jewish Heroes, Sung & Unsung”

NEW YORK CITY -- In the footsteps of its sold-out concert last spring, the Jewish People’s Philharmonic Chorus is returning to Symphony Space on Sun, May 31 at 4:30 pm. Tickets are $25 and $15. Founded in 1922, this intergenerational chorus is conducted by Binyumen Schaechter, and will sing a new program from its rich repertoire of Yiddish choral music with English translations provided throughout. He is the son of the widely renowned late Yiddish linguist Mordkhe Schaechter.

Founded in 1922, the chorus boasts members ranging in age from 15 to 85, and has made guest appearances at Alice Tully Hall, Shea Stadium, Ground Zero, the Museum of the City of New York and, most recently, at West Point Military Academy. There are students, grandparents, Canadians, Israelis, gays and straights, most of varying levels of Jewish observance, and even a couple of people who are not Jewish at all, but who are devoted to the music. Some people speak Yiddish, such as the several adult children of Holocaust survivors and late Yiddish poets and thinkers. Some speak no Yiddish. Their collective goal is to breathe life into this historic body of music work and make it live again.

This unlikely army of Yiddish singers gathers once a week at the social hall of a residence for the elderly on the Upper West Side to rehearse its dynamic repertoire, no less diverse and interesting than the singers, from exciting oratorios and comic operettas to labor anthems, beloved folksongs, and popular tunes.

This year's concert will highlight the works of the great Yiddish writers Sholom Aleichem, Dovid Edelstadt, Itsik Manger, and Peretz Miransky; and composers Michl Gelbart, Srul Glick, Mark Zuckerman, and Georg Friedrich Handel. Also in the program will be the rarely heard Wolf Younin/Maurice Rauch cantata Ester Hamalke ("Queen Esther"), featuring tenor soloist Cantor David Berger and pianist Amy Duran.

In addition, Di Shekhter-tekhter ("The Schaechter Daughters"), age 14 and 9, will perform selections from their show "Our Zeydas and Bubbas as Children," with which they have toured three continents over the past year.

This concert is dedicated to the memory of Alice Kogan, long-time irreplaceable JPPC performer and activist.

The JPPC will be performing at Symphony Space on Sunday, May 31, at 4:30 p.m. Tickets are $25 and $15. Symphony Space is located on New York City's Upper West Side, at 2537 Broadway near 95th Street. To buy tickets, visit http://www.symphonyspace.org/, or call the Symphony Space box office at 212-864-5400. For more information about the chorus, visit http://www.thejppc.org/.

--30--

Bio on the musical director
Binyumen Schaechter, Director
bschaechter@nyc.rr.com
212-989-0212

BINYUMEN (BEN) SCHAECHTER (Conductor) is an award-winning composer of musicals and other songs which have been performed on five continents, with his music represented off-Broadway in NAKED BOYS SINGING (one of the longest-running shows in off-Broadway history), PETS! (Dramatic Publishing), THAT'S LIFE! (Outer Critics Circle nomination), TOO JEWISH? (nominated: Drama Desk, Outer Critics Circle Awards) and DOUBLE IDENTITY. His music has been recorded on a dozen CDs, including "IT HELPS TO SING ABOUT IT: Songs of Ben Schaechter & Dan Kael" (amazon.com).

As an actor, he was featured with Anna Deveare Smith in her one-woman show in Carnegie Hall. He has also entertained across North America and in Paris in his one-man show, THE SHTETL COMES TO LIFE. More recently, together with elder daughter Reyna, he toured FROM KINAHORA TO CONEY ISLAND, his musical revue about the Jewish experience in America, and with both daughters in OUR ZEYDAS AND BUBBAS AS CHILDREN http://youtube.com/user/ShekhterTekhter. He provided the translations for the first-ever DVD with Yiddish subtitles, THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HANK GREENBERG. He and his 3 sisters all speak only Yiddish with their total of 16 children. He is the son of the late great Yiddish expert, linguist and teacher, Dr. Mordkhe Schaechter.

Attn: Editor – More info.

Here’s our website:
http://www.thejppc.org/

We also have a facebook page, we’re on CD Baby and you can hear us on MySpace at http://www.myspace.com/jewishpeoplesphilharmonicchorus.

Here’s some info on Itche Goldberg:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Itche_Goldberg

Here’s Miransky’s obit from the NYTimes:
http://www.nytimes.com/1993/07/16/obituaries/peretz-miransky-85-yiddish-literary-figure.html

And a few words about Srul Irving Glick:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Srul_Irving_Glick

2009-05-09T17:18:00.006-04:00

Please join me in Montreal
to celebrate the launch of my mother's memoir!

Please join me in Toronto
to celebrate the launch of my mother's memoir!

2009-05-06T15:09:00.003-04:00

Thank you, Bergen!

Three Bergen Community College Students Awarded

for Literary Excellence

2009-10 Edition of Literary Journal The Labyrinth Debuts

(From left) Yuna Youn (of Palisades Park), Lynda Kraar (of Teaneck) and Amanda Viehmeyer (of Garfield) took home top honors in The Labyrinth’s literary competition.

With the debut of the 2009-10 edition of The Labyrinth, Bergen Community College’s literary journal, 25 student authors can add a new adjective to their portfolios: published.

Student authors submit their creative nonfiction, fiction and poetry pieces to The Labyrinth’s faculty advisers (Bergen professors James Zorn and Dorothy Altman), who work with a student editorial board to select entries from hundreds of submissions for inclusion in the publication.

Student editors then compile and oversee the production of the journal. The 2009-10 edition features 37 works by 25 authors.

At The Labyrinth’s April 30, 2009 launch event, prizes were awarded to the authors of the top works in each of the three submission categories. Two professors from a local university judged the 2009-10 entries: John Parras and Marthe Witte. Parras also attended the journal’s launch event and presented certificates and awards to the honorees.

The winners are:

• Nonfiction – Lynda Kraar (of Teaneck) for “Fashioning My Father After Myself”

• Fiction – Amanda Viehmeyer (of Garfield) for “Etiology”

• Poetry – Yuna Youn (of Palisades Park) for “Blushing Red”

“Both Professor Zorn and I are impressed with the level of writing talent at Bergen Community College and we congratulate the award winners,” Dr. Altman said. “Additionally, we are pleased to announce that we are seeing a rise in enrollment in our creative writing program and are adding additional courses to our curriculum.”

Many of The Labyrinth’s 25 contributors shared their works by reading them aloud at the April 30 launch. The 66-page anthology, The Labyrinth, is available through Bergen’s Department of English.

Bergen Community College is a public two-year coeducational college, enrolling more than 15,000 students in Associate in Arts, Associate in Science, and Associate in Applied Science degree programs and certificate programs. More than 10,000 students are enrolled in non-credit, professional courses through the Division of Continuing Education, the Institute for Learning in Retirement, the Philip J. Ciarco Jr. Learning Center, located at 355 Main Street, Hackensack, and Bergen at the Meadowlands, located at 1280 Wall Street West, Lyndhurst. Information about the College is available at www.bergen.edu or by phoning the Welcome Center at (201) 447-7200 .

2009-04-28T08:36:00.007-04:00

I was pleasantly surprised to learn this week that I fetched a Best Creative Non-Fiction award for this story. The award was given to me on April 26 at a reception at Bergen Community College. Some of the other pieces that were read were truly something. Get a copy of the Labyrinth (through the English dept. at BCC), which contains my story and the others. The judge was Professor Parras of William Paterson University. My great thanks to him for this honour.

Fashioning my Dad after Myself:

An excerpt from the book

By Lynda Kraar

Voltaire once said, "If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent Him."

Inspired by these words, I spent my entire life inventing my father - giving birth to him and raising him, giving him form and function. I came up with a guy of medium height, irresistibly gorgeous. Dazzling blue eyes, olive skin and golden hair. And on the seventh day I rested.

I did not know what to want or expect from another human being in terms of emotion and intellect. As an only child, I did not understand, know or care about intimacy or feelings. I only knew how to entertain myself, and when bored, how to find something that could entertain me. This would become my modus operandi as I grew up. Years later, after I grew breasts and got my period, I would bed, marry and divorce men who matched that description perfectly. But this is not about me - this is about my father.

My mother detested my father, but not enough to leave their so-called life together. It was entirely mutual. Neither of them could get over an event that happened so long ago that there was no longer any sense in raising it. What happened back there was of no interest to me - I had one mission and one mission alone: to build myself a father. The fact that they were finding great fulfillment in vengeance, abuse and sadomasochism might have been interesting to the neighbours, but I had bigger things on my plate.

The clay from which I molded Dad had a few natural elements of its own: He was a nervous man with a short fuse. He had been a prize boxer as a kid but retired after he broke another kid's jaw, although the taste for blood never left him. He was a clotheshorse with a penchant for fast cars. Not one to tolerate the cheap crap that was being manufactured and sold as menswear, he made most of his own clothes - suits, pants and jackets. He had a way of charming women and keeping them around despite his domestic circumstances. He brooded a lot. He had his own bedroom. His sleep was fitful. He had nightmares. He would awaken, screaming. He kept an axe under the bed and a stash of money between the mattresses. He had no books, no notebooks, no pens: just a stubby little pencil that he sharpened with a kitchen knife over the sink.

You couldn't pin him down, my dad. He carried himself like a prince, but he brawled like a street fighter. You could keep him around polite company, but not for very long. You could see in his beautiful eyes that he was capable - very capable - of going over the edge.

What choice did I have? As self-appointed alchemist, I carefully measured out doses of fiction intermingled with fact. My father would be a creative soul. He would write, draw and sing. Some ingredients were based on the early things that I remember best about him - his love for operatic tenors, his expertise at creating clothing patterns and then executing them with perfection. He was great at drawing caricatures, an art form that would carry over to me, and which would eventually have me threatened with expulsion from school.

I willed my father to come home and read to me; to adore me; to listen to me; to fuss over me and take me to the corner store for an ice cream cone.

That's how it might have gone down; however, Divine Intervention came in the form of my mother, who could simply never forgive him for cheating on her with a German girl in the first year of their marriage, and who would never stop loving him until the day she died. For those two sins he paid and paid and paid. And so did she. Thus, it was no surprise to me when, on his death bed, Dad asked me, "Where's Mum?"

I thought about it. I could have said, "Oh, Dad, we didn't have the heart to tell you that she died two years ago. She was so sick, poor Mother! The Almighty (Blessed be He!) took her from her sick bed in the living room of our house in the middle of the holy of holy nights, the Sabbath. The Sabbath, Dad! She was a saint! You blew it!"

Instead, I gave him the one answer that drove him crazy, that he hated to hear - the answer that stirred his toxic mind to caustic rage: "She's at the Y."

From that pathetic little cot, with all the fire and bile and piss he could muster, he gave me that look that I remembered from the first - rabid eyes filled with venom, like a cobra ready to strike, eyes that were now in their nineties and defied the slowdown of his other vital parts. In that moment, in his eyes, how well I remembered Dad.

In October, 1994, my father came to visit us in Teaneck, New Jersey. We had fled Manhattan after the birth of my second baby the previous January. Mom thought it was a great idea for Dad to see his granddaughter for the first time. My then-husband, Seamus, was the star crime reporter at the Bergen Record. We felt the ticking of the clock with the new baby in the house, and we realized that Dad was not getting any younger. The visit presented two perfect opportunities - Dad would be able to buy a hank of superwool to make himself a pair of pants, and we could tape an interview with him each night of his visit.

As a child, either I was absent the day Dad talked about his family, or else too indoctrinated by my mother to pay attention to his words. He had come from a huge family - a very old Polish family that had stayed in the region of Radom for centuries. You could recognize the clans because they all shared the same first names - all named for the long-departed patriarchs and matriarchs.

Every morning during his visit we took Dad to Butterflake bakery for a fresh rye bread, and then to the supermarket for cold cuts. When Dad asked me for an iron so that he could press his shirt and pants, I produced whatever I had in the house. After his bitter protests, we had to go out and buy a real steam iron. Mine, apparently, was for sissies. He had to have his Nescafe, real butter and real jam preserves. The food I had prepared was too nutritious, too colourful. Dad was from the "sauté until grey" school of cooking. Meat had to be overcooked and bland, as did potatoes and all manner of root vegetables. He had no patience for whole wheat anything, fresh fruits or roughage - "Grass is for sheep. I'm a man!" Every so often, when Miriam - four at the time - would get on his nerves, I would see the guy I remembered come out. I did my best to make sure she stayed out of his way and that she did not run with scissors when he was around.

The next night, as we taped the second interview, I learned that Dad might have been beaten by his father as a child. His father never got over the loss of a little girl who died of tuberculosis. No other child was good enough for him. Certainly, his mother was accustomed to the beatings. She might have sent my father, her fair-haired, beautiful child, to live with relatives in the city of Lodz, then a burgeoning, tuberculosis-breeding industrial center like the Lower East Side. It was clear that my father was not a scholar. By the time he was in his teens he was officially illiterate. He compensated by fine-tuning his street instincts, and he went into the world of trade with a vengeance. He described his glory days in the 1930s as a young man living alone in the big city.

The next day we heard about his wife, Genia, whose name I inscribed on his headstone at the cemetery because I was so certain this woman did not have a single relative who survived the Nazis. Genia was pregnant, and Dad was smuggling outside the ghetto walls with a few contacts he had there. He would sneak through the elaborate sewer system and come up through a manhole on the Nazi side. It was very quick. One or two Poles would be there, and the trade would be done. The whole tragic lot of them could have been murdered on the spot if they were found out. Then Dad slipped back into the sewer and came up a manhole that was located near a convent that bordered the ghetto. In 1942, during the worst of the ghetto liquidations, and with a pregnant wife, Dad was busted by a Jewish cop and put on a deportation list.

It was already a miracle that he was not rounded up and shot, as so many others were. It was even more miraculous that he outwitted the authorities who tried to send him into the trucks that were killing loads of Jews with carbon monoxide poisoning as they were being transported to the crematoria and pits that were designed expressly to do away with dead Jewish waste. My lucky father ended up in Auschwitz after some hard time at the Poznan labour camp. There he encountered his old friend Morris who worked in the kitchen. He would eventually get Dad a job there, too. While most prisoners were dying of starvation, my father did not do too badly. Touched by the finger of God once again. No wonder my mother hated him so.

"It wasn't too bad," Dad would say.

"It wasn't too bad," my mother would mock. My mother, who had lost everyone from her little clan and blew her chance for restitution and reclamation by signing the wrong document at the wrong time. She was never able to appeal her claim. On the other hand, Dad received slave labour cheques and restitution from Germany that sometimes totalled tens of thousands of dollars. In addition, there were some family members around, even if they did not talk to each other. Let the record reflect that some did - I do not want to piss off those cousins and risk losing them, too.

It was inevitable - I had to grow up. I had to knock down the Dad that I had created. I had to accept the fact that nothing was extraordinary in Dad's life except everything. He did not belong to me - he belonged to the world. Dad had a heart attack in the weeks before his retirement from the sweatshop where he worked, along with scores of other Holocaust survivors who had come to Canada, their new homeland which begrudgingly accepted them in the 1950s. The doctors opened him up, and he had a heart attack on the table so they closed him back up again without finishing the job. A few weeks later he fell out of the cherry tree in the backyard because he did not want the birds to kill off his harvest.

Throughout his life he won at the slots. He went to Florida for months every winter where he shacked up with his Ukrainian girlfriend from Chicago whom I heard about from friends of my parents who saw them together. She knitted for him two sweaters which he wore until he died. Even in his last days, when I'd ask, "Dad, where did you get those beautiful sweaters?" he would answer with a furtive grin, "I got 'em." His brain was mush, he was soiling himself, he did not know what day it was, but he was going to guard his friend's honour until his last gasp.

Mom stewed in the meantime, grappling with her own sexual identity. Dad never stopped playing cards with his gang. He never stopped fighting and occasionally giving someone the taste of his killer left hook to the jaw. He was no longer permitted to drive. He continued to make his own clothes, trim his nose hairs and wear a tie every day.

My mother was in complete denial that there was anything wrong with Dad, although it was clear to my family that he was losing it. For twenty years we had told her that he was forgetful, that he was leaving the stove on, and that he allowed the asshole cokehead neighbor to rip him off for $11,000 for a roofing job that was never done. The sonofabitch just kept coming over and asking him for payment, because they knew Dad didn't remember anything from one day to the next. The bastard even drove Dad to the bank for the cash withdrawal-- $1,000 on a weekly basis, for eleven weeks straight. Nope, said Mum. This was only a ploy to piss her off - her words - because he hated it that she went to the Y. Poor Mom, she so desperately wanted Dad's attention.

After a lifetime of neglecting her health, the cancer that had silently thrived in her colon for at least a decade metastasized. No two ways about it - eleven years Dad's junior, a community activist and our matriarch, my mother was going to check out first. There was no time for drama. My husband Marty and I came up with a plan: Dad needed to be put into an eldercare facility.

That good time did not last very long. The morning Mom died, May 7, 2005, I took Dad out to our favourite restaurant, intent on never telling him what had happened, and prayed that none of her old friends would approach us, asking how my mum was doing:

"She died a few hours ago. Dad, can you please pass the salt?"

The next day we celebrated Mother's Day at the Mount Sinai cemetery where we feted my mother with a well attended, dignified send-off. Meanwhile, Dad was charming the nice Filipino women who worked there on the weekends.

The world was different now. Our family continued to visit him, to put him in the car and listen to his favourite Jan Peerce or Mario Lanza recordings: "Now, that's a singer," he would say.

We took him out for real food. He allowed me to take him to the second-hand clothing store where I bought him a wardrobe of matching separates, all the best name brands. Even at the age of 93 I could not stand the thought of seeing him wearing shmattas. There was nothing wrong with his eyes. He liked the Banana Republic chino tailoring. There was a little excitement when his roomie, an old cadger and one-time tailor named Sam, took his gigantic shears and ripped the pants to shreds to make them smaller, hand-stitching them in the back. Should these guys even have scissors and needles? The attendants confiscated the entire cache.

I was considering not burying my parents next to each other until there was once again a Divine Intervention, this time not from my mother, but from God. Not to be outdone by the righteous woman who earned the privilege of been called up on the holy Sabbath, Dad passed away on September 15, 2007. It was the Sabbath of Return - the really big, important Sabbath that occurs between the Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. That would have pissed off my mother to no end. Do the faithful ever get to see God this close up? The Almighty made it by far the most festive holiday that Dad had ever experienced, and the most heartfelt one for those of us who were at his side, waiting and wondering about what He has in store for us.

2009-03-19T11:19:00.005-04:00

Excerpt from
BE DECENT:

ALBUM OF MY LIFE
by Ann Szedlecki

(my late mother)

Dear Friends,

OMG, it’s happening! The kick-off for the Azrieli Foundation memoir series is fast approaching with book launchs in Montreal and Toronto. My mum’s memoir will be part of that series. I will keep you posted on actual dates/places for the events.

NB: It is sixty-six years almost to the day since my mother's brother, Shoel Frajlich, succumbed to tuberculosis at the age of twenty-two in a Siberian hospital. The passage below describes the period of anguish, loneliness and despair of my then-eighteen-year-old mother during the ordeal of her brother's illness and passing.

Here’s the link for more info on the Azrieli Foundation Holocaust memoirs project. http://www.azrielifoundation.org/memoirs/books.asp?pid=59

Write me privately for more info.

Sincerely,
Lynda

Excerpt from
BE DECENT: ALBUM OF MY LIFE
by Ann Szedlecki

SHOEL FRAJLICH HA'COHEN (z"l)

The deterioration of my dear, sweet brother, and how I handled it, will always be the most painful chapter of my life. It's something I will never get over.

One morning in the autumn of 1942 I came back to the dorm after working the night shift and found my brother Shoel sitting on the stairs. He had been there all night in the bitter cold. One of the girls, Eva Goldberg, had thrown him out because she was afraid of contracting his tuberculosis. This picture will stay with me until my dying day. Eva is dead now, but I can neither forgive her nor forget what she did. Maybe she even hastened his death. I find it extremely difficult to write about it even now.

Shoel had been released from the hard labour camp after two and a half years. I couldn't believe it was the same Shoel. The beautiful winter coat that was new when we left Poland and fitted him so well now hung on his wasted body. His blue eyes were sunken in their sockets. He had endured such horrific, inhuman torture. At the time I didn't realize how sick he was, with no known cure. It wasn't just his lungs but the whole body that was consumed. He was in and out of hospitals. There was a time when he stayed with me in the dormitory which I shared with the other girls. He had no other place to stay. I shared my food with him and even used the same utensils although he was coughing up blood. I easily could have become infected with the disease myself, but I did not think about it at all.

The last time Shoel was admitted to hospital was sometime in February, 1943. We were in the same city, but I could not help him much. I found a job in the mine's cafeteria washing dishes and peeling potatoes. There were thousands of bowls. Miners worked two shifts of twelve hours each. At least my work provided me with some food. I worked a twenty-four-hour shift and then I had forty-eight hours free. I went to see my brother. While we carried on a conversation he became silent and kept his eyes closed. His eyelids were translucent. I panicked, but he opened his eyes and said, "I'm not dead yet."

On my last visit, Shoel shared with me his only last wishes.

"I want to come home, have a piece of white bread and butter, a glass of tea with lemon, kiss our mother good-bye, and die."

Just before I left, he asked me to take his clothes with me, along with some money.

"No, Shoel," I said, "I'll come back after my next shift. I'll pick up your things then."

There was no phone to inquire about him, and of course, I couldn't take time off to see him.

On Thursday, March 18, 1943, when my shift was over and I was ready to go to the hospital, a messenger came with the news that Shoel had passed away a few hours earlier.

A nurse there told me that his last words were, "Is my sister here?"

Even though I wasn't there when he took his last breath, these painful words would always ring in my ears. He died alone.

With my last connection gone, I became an orphan. Of all the things he had wished for on his death bed, all Shoel got was a lonely death. There was no piece of bread and butter; no glass of tea with lemon. Nor did he get to kiss our dear mother, whose fate we did not know.

A few days before he died I had a disturbing dream:

I am walking up the dark, wooden staircase, hanging on the shaky wooden banister for dear life. When I reach the third floor, I take off the key that hangs from an oval ring. I open the door and let myself in. The kitchen is in semi-darkness lit only by the light from the next room.

I enter and what I see, or what I assume I see, is my family, sitting around a table covered with a white tablecloth. Our silver candlesticks, one still slightly bent, candles are shining bright…food is on the table.

I realize it must be Friday night - the Sabbath. I can only see my mother. The others are just shadows.

I'm standing in the doorway and my mother says, "Come in. Why are you standing there? Sit down and eat."

I continue standing.

"Where is my son Shoel?," she asks.

"He'll be here soon," I reply.

My mother's face becomes very sad, and very quietly, through tears, she says, "No, he will never come back!" Her mournful crying was breaking my heart.

I awoke, my face wet with tears. I knew she was right. I knew the meaning of my dream, no matter how hard I tried to reject the interpretation.

I couldn't make myself view Shoel's body, never having seen a corpse in my life. There's another thing for which I will never forgive myself, until my dying day.

The vultures had descended: The things he wanted me to take home disappeared. It didn't matter to me anyway. I lost the last connection with my family - the last link gone. I was desperately alone, lonely and poor. Nobody offered to help arrange his burial. I took three days off from work without permission. That eventually landed me in a hard labour camp for six months.

Finally it was left to the city to look after this matter. Ten days after his death, during a very heavy snowfall, I was allowed by my friend Hela Picksman to stand in the window of her apartment and watch the sled carrying my brother's body to the cemetery where he would be buried in an unmarked grave.

It is another load of guilt that I carry, because he was not buried in accordance with Jewish law, which proscribes burial within twenty-four hours and a mourning period of seven days. Shoel was a Cohen, a noble descendant of the Jewish high priests of the Temple, worthy of the highest burial rites.

I could not go with him for his final send-off. I had no shoes or warm clothes. Silently I said my goodbye when the sled disappeared from view. Hela interrupted the saddest moment of my life by asking me to leave her home, because she did not want her husband finding me there. She made me feel like a leper. I was a sorry sight, and not a very clean one.

It has been many years since the day Shoel died. But the grief and guilt is as raw as ever. If anything, I think about him even more often now. At least I know when to light the yahrzeit candle: the eleventh day of Adar II, 5703. He is the only member of the family whose date of death and approximate place of burial I know.

2009-02-12T08:19:00.004-05:00

Songs of Love needs your help

We associate love with this time of year and Valentine's Day. Maybe gifts are a little bit harder to buy in the current economy. I don't want to belabour that point, but I would like to ask your help with a very special non-profit organization that is dear to my me and whose founder is very close to my heart. A donation to Songs of Love is the right gift to give this Valentine's Day.

John Belzer, founder of Songs of Love, has been providing customized songs for sick children for years. I am proud to call John my friend, and I urge you to visit the Songs of Love website and learn more about him and how his vision came to be.

Each song is written by a songwriter who has an information sheet on the child that describes their likes/dislikes, their friends and family, even a beloved pet, television show, type of music or food, book, etc. The songwriter then writes a song for that child, and incorporates all the pertinent information -- not the easiest thing to do.

I contributed a song for a little girl named Amanda, and I personally know the joy that this work brings into the lives of the child, and especially to their family and loved ones. I talk about Songs of Love everywhere I go, to anyone who'll listen! It is my personal desire to see them continue to do their good works and not to worry about the financials.

Please visit the Songs of Love website now and see for yourself. Here's John's appeal. Please give generously!

I also encourage you to check out some of the Songs of Love YouTubes, such as this one (get out your handkerchiefs):

Check out this segment on CBS 60 Minutes and GET INVOLVED!

xoxoxoxo
GuitarGirl

2009-01-04T12:45:00.002-05:00

So good I had to repeat it here - Ron Kampeas's piece for the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

Gaza, the fridge in Gilo and moral responsibility

By Ron Kampeas · January 2, 2009

For some relief from the misery of Israel’s south and Gaza, here’s a joke from the second Intifada.

An American Jew at a party in New York tells an Israeli friend, “I’d love to visit, but it’s just too dangerous.” The Israeli protests: “Don’t believe what you see in the papers! Come, come, it’s safer than Brooklyn. Just avoid Jerusalem.”

A Jerusalemite listening in interjects: “What are you talking about, Jerusalem is as safe as Ramat Aviv. Except for Gilo, of course, but who goes to Gilo?”

“I happen to live in Gilo, bub,” a third man says. “It’s as boring as a suburb should be – as long as you keep away from Rehov Ha’anafa, across from the gunmen in Beit Jala-“

“Ma pitom* Rehov Haanafa,” a girl says from across the room. “My parents live there, and I go every Shabbat, and I’m a certified coward. Forget about it, come to Rehov Ha’anafa, as long as you avoid 422, naturally-“

“422?!?” shouts the bartender. “422 is like a day in the park. A wonderful building, and I should know, my girlfriend lives there. Everyone knows 422 is fine, except for the miskenim in 10-B.”

“Miskenim?” says the guy slumped in the corner, waking up. “I’ll give you miskenim, ya’ mamzer. We’re just fine in 10-B and everyone is invited next Shabbat to prove it. Keep out of the kitchen, is all.”

“The kitchen?” an older woman huffs. “As if you even know what it looks like. The kitchen is safe as can be,” she says, “As long as you don’t stand next to the fridge.”

And so on.

I know, some relief.

It’s hard to get around the dilemma this war poses, especially as refracted through the know-nothingism permeating commentary on the web and in the newspapers.

I’m Israeli, I lived there 15 years, a lot of them in an apartment like 422-10-B, facing a Palestinian village, and I don’t have answers. I wish I had the confidence of those who do.

But I only have questions. It’s all I can come up with, a whittling down, perhaps, of my (take your pick) self-confidence/moral centeredness/arrogance after way too many years of asking them.

So here are a few:

For the dimestore analysts who talk about Israel’s compunction for disproportionate response, as if it were somehow inherently Israeli: What is the worth of conclusions drawn only from selective data? I mean, if Israel’s response is “disproportionate” (to what, by the way? No one ever posits a “proportionate” response) what was it for those long periods since Israel’s withdrawal in 2005 that it did not respond at all? If there is some deep moral flaw in the Israeli character that naturally disposes to disproportionality, why isn’t it triggered each time a rocket lands in Sderot? And thousands have. This question first occurred to me during the Lebanon war in 2006, when the same sighs of “how Israeli” arose after a cross-border Hezbollah raid triggered aerial assaults and then a ground operation; the (willful?) amnesia struck me: Israel had suffered exactly such a raid in the summer of 2000, yet had NOT responded in kind. What did that say about Israel’s alleged trigger-happiness? And about Hezbollah’s recklessness (along the lines of “fool me once,” etc.)? If there’s one there’s one thing I’ve learned in 20 years as a reporter, it is that ascribing an inherent, immutable quality to a body as organic as a nation or a people is cheap anti-intellectualism at best and probably something far, far worse.

And before you start nodding, what is a “proportionate” response then? Why is 20 percent civilian deaths acceptable? Who deems it so? Supposedly, that’s comparable to Afghanistan; Is the NATO operation in Afghanistan something we (we Israelis) want to emulate? Does the storing of weapons in civilian areas justify the risk of taking children’s lives? Is anyone making these decisions asking these questions? What is the acceptable risk factor? Loose talk of “collateral damage” is, well, meaningless. No, worse, it has meaning: The relativization of human life.

And speaking of meaning, what do these knee-jerk calls for a cease-fire and a return to the peace process mean? What peace process involved Hamas? This is a group that since 2006 has had an opportunity to set up a functioning Islamist state. Think of it: Had Gaza run smoothly and Hamas maintained the peace, how could the Israeli leadership have resisted recognizing its governance? How could Israel plausibly resist relinquishing governance and land in the West Bank? And releasing prisoners? The pressure would have been internal as well: Occupation uncoupled from security is profoundly unpopular in Israel. And think of the regional repercussions: If Israel could accommodate Islamism in Gaza, how could Egypt and Jordan resist within their borders? I simply don’t see any other sequence arising out of a peaceful mini-state in Gaza. Yet Hamas seemed determined to smash this golden opportunity, apparently because killing Israeli civilians matters more to it than, well, survival. And yes, I know about the privations caused by Israel’s U.S.-backed blockade – triggered, after all, by democratic elections – but somehow, Hamas managed to smuggle in materiel enough to manufacture hundreds of rockets, including long-range missiles; it might have been smuggling in food and medicine and fuel. And, again, a peaceful Gaza would have created pressure enough for Israel to lift its embargoes – if pressure was needed. My sense is that the Olmert government would have done so of its own accord had peace prevailed. So what does Israel do about the arms buildup just miles from Ashkelon, less than an hour’s leisurely drive from Tel Aviv? And yes, the rocket fire has radically diminished during the ceasefire - proof that Hamas can indeed rein it in - but the smuggling intensified (the proof is now in the longrange rockets reaching Beersheba and Ashkelon.) Who would regard an ceasefire coupled with arms buildup as a true "ceasefire"? Is a ceasefire really the right answer? What about smarter fire?

And speaking of smarter fire and smarter embargoes: Just as the fire is “proportionate,” Israeli and pro-Israel spokesmen will insist that the embargoes are necessitated by the smuggling and, God forbid, are not collective punishment. Please forgive the hard nudge and the broad wink. As Dennis Ross and others have written, a greater commitment of Israeli manpower at security checkpoints would substantially mitigate against arming terrorists while providing relief to civilians; yet Israel has never made this a priority. And Gaza’s civilians are suffering commensurately. Israeli officials don’t often publicly acknowledge collective punishment (it’s against the law), but any veteran of military service in the territories – okay, this veteran of military service in the territories will tell you – it is routinely used to justify shutting down a village where trouble has occurred. (“We’re going to squeeze them a little, and they’ll give up the bad guys, or at least force them to go somewhere else so it won’t be our problem” is how I remember one commander explaining it in the Bureij refugee camp an eon ago.) Yitzhak Rabin, not one to suffer legal niceties gladly, bluntly made the same case more than once for broader operations. Leave aside for a moment the moral question – what is the usefulness of collective punishment? After 40 years of its intermittent use, are the Palestinians more quiescent? Has it ever been effective in the territories? Anyone heard of summud? I can think of only one instance where it had limited effect: Operation Accountabilty in 1993, where Rabin made clear he was creating an internal refugee crisis in Lebanon to pressure the government into reining in Hezbollah. But that was Lebanon. Has it ever worked on the Palestinians? And back to the moral question: How is pressuring civilians to effect policy changes not terrorism (albeit of a less lethal kind than that practiced by Hamas)?

And speaking of civilians caught in the crossfire – what is so extraordinary about this little war that it merits enhanced attention from the president-elect, from the media, from the teenager stuffing “People” into your groceries bag? Editor and Publisher’s Greg Mitchell has wondered aloud why the sufferings of the Palestinians have not merited greater coverage by the media and “liberal bloggers” (coulda fooled me). The implication is that we’re all cowering for fear of repercussions from the teeth-gnashing, gut-clawing “Israel lobby” monster. (JTA's report is here.) The suffering has merited multiple-day front-page coverage; is the same true of eastern Congo? Of Abkhazia? Of Pakistan’s border provinces? The follow-up evasion to this usually is that Israel’s conflicts are not isolated, they threaten to engulf the region, etc. etc., yet that does not seem true in this case; if anything, Israel’s neighbors are making a new art of thumb-twiddling in hopes of seeing an Islamist movement crushed.

But that doesn’t absolve us – us Jews, us Israelis – from asking questions. It is a war waged in our name. It is a war we have been asked to defend, as American Jews, and if we have an obligation to defend Israel, we have a right to ask hard questions, and not just in chambers. The hoary old emotional blackmail - “Israel knows best, its government is on the front line” - is still dead, buried by its most strident advocates the minute they turned on Oslo. The Israeli standing by the fridge in Ashdod - and the Palestinian standing in the kitchen in Khan Yunis - deserve no less.

*Ma pitom, literally, “What, suddenly,” is one of those transient, untranslatable idioms that means something different from use to use – in this case, “What are you talking about?” “Miskenim” means “poor slobs” and “ya’, mamzer” means exactly that.

2008-12-22T08:28:00.002-05:00

Thanks to In Mol Aran for turning me on to this link. It seems I might be a man after all. Check it out.

http://genderanalyzer.com/?url=www.guitargirlsdigitaldiary.blogspot.com

2008-12-20T10:28:00.004-05:00

On seasonal affect disorder; X-mas v. Xanuka;
and thoughts on mark again...again

I was at the Teaneck Scrabble club last week when one of our longtime members, Helga, confessed that this is her most behated time of year. It's not just Christmas, she said, but the entire season, "from Halloween to New Year's." It was cathartic to hear this from someone who is not Jewish. If I could have played PATINAE at that moment, I would have done so: It was a moment which, for me, wrapped up the entire Christmas thing with a pretty, tinselly bow.

Social workers who deal with holiday-conflicted Jews also have a package wrapped with a bow that they call the "Christmas Dilemma." It makes it easier for them to treat, suffer or tolerate their vitamin D-deprived semitic patients during this joyous season of merrymaking and goodwill toward men. I was married to an Irish Catholic who converted to Judaism, and I can attest firsthand that at no time was there any conflict in our lives that had to do with religious practices and holidays. His mother sent us the best Hanuka cards in the world. She had a real instinct for what worked.

I confess that I don't really recall Mum sending me anything much during Hanuka. There was a tacit understanding that money was available in small portions for presents for the children. Or perhaps Mum and Dad spent a holiday with us from time to time. Not a great reciprocator, I was always successful beyond my wildest dreams in assuring that I sent out greeting cards late, or that the plants or gifts I gave were vastly underwhelming, or sent some sort of mixed message to the recipient.

I'm not here to kvetch. I would, however, like to state that perhaps due to my upbringing I have zero understanding of gift-giving or gift-appreciating. I can send out a successful mass mailing fund raising letter, but I don't really know how to send a personal card to special someone/s who might really need to hear something intimate and tender from me. Classic example: I have not really considered presents for my kids this year, nor have I sent them any sort of touchy-feely cards or greetings. I've been pretty clammed up, in fact. Not gonna lie; not proud about it; just gonna shout about it.

Notwithstanding my inability to be gracious and classy in the gift giving department, the Xmas/Xanuka dilemma has never been my bailiwick. Christmas was part of our life when I was a child. Every year Mum would dust off the plastic holly and ornaments, and we would hang all of it around her ladies' wear store in the West End.

There was the annual Christmas party at the store during which Mum's right-hand employee, Ciel Mackenzie, brought in her fruitcake. At this point, if you are a conflicted Jew or a Christmas-celebrating Christian, you know that:

FRUITCAKE = MATZA

No one eats it
It never goes stale
It's the Picture of Dorian Gray: Somewhere hidden away is a fruitcake, sagging and wrinkly.
You should carbon-14 date it before it goes anywhere near your mouth

Ciel's fruitcake was different. It emitted an intriguing, chest-melting fume. Hers was pickled in brandy and sopping wet to the touch. A little whipped cream on top and coupled with a spiked eggnog, and the youngest amongst us was flying high. No wonder we had so many people stopping by the store, including the cops, security, Mum's competitors, too. And Mum always brought in a vast quantity of corned beef, pastrami, rye bread, pickles from Schmerl's Delicatessen, and a bottle of Crown Royal. Nothing was left but crumbs, year in, year out.

Despite this very sweet memory, December sucks for me. I thought I was over it, at long last. It's been a great month so far, filled with good things. I aced my semester and maintained my 4.0 grade point average. I met lots of new and interesting people at school who have been stimulating my mind and spurring my creativity. I wrote. I baked. I read. I listened. I made stuff. I guess it's still not enough. I cannot get over certain dates, long behind me, dates that visit upon me like unwelcome guests, especially when I can't see the sun for the threatening skies, and when the descending claustrophobia brings time to its knees in my brain:

Dec. 5- official date of death of Mark Balshin, 23, biggest love of my life
Dec. 8 - murder of Israel Ehrlich, Holocaust survivor, 50s, close family friend, by a 15-year-old boy and his 14-year-old girlfriend
Dec. 9 - accidental death of Rachel Tenenbaum, 12, school and camp buddy, who stepped out in front of a truck after school
Dec. 22 - Mark's birthday

I want to dedicate this column to Mark because not a day goes by when I do not think about him and remember him as though he were still here. I still dream about him. In those dreams, he is very much alive, clear eyes lovingly gazing into my own, much like they did back then. I hear all the words from so many others about how he was, but I only remember how he was to me. Special cosmic connection. Then suddenly you are left alone to carry on, and what a void that leaves. Changes you. Maybe that's what I hear in "Love Hurts" as sung by Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris.

I keep saying I want to medicate myself if only to speed up the clock and give me a little leg up. Then, like a miracle, January 1 rolls around every year and this white noise in my head just stops cold. For your reading pleasure, here is a poem that I recited quite often on the circuit, and which I had written only a couple of weeks after he left this earth.

It predates kd lang, so you could say yes, I did write it in the e.e. cummings style. It was intentional, not having anything to do with affect. I was so alone at that moment, so completely down. For me, every letter of the alphabet was also flying low to the ground. There could be no superstar letters. There could be no elevation. Here it is. Happy holidays.

thoughts on mark again

when the fire in your veins

turns to ash

and you can’t answer

to your given name

and nobody’s on the phone

when you can’t comfort or be

comforted

when you cease

to recognize love

when you don’t feel needed

and nobody wants you

when your ears are deaf

and you stop trying

when the hope in your heart

turns to rust

when you won’t be home

anymore

when the sun leaves

your eyes

and you turn off the world

when the fridge is empty

and the oven won’t work

and nobody emptied the ashtray

when a thousand eyes

are weeping

and one candle is burning

when a sympathetic word

can’t stop the pain

when an image visits

in the night

with starry eyes

and kisses the memories

when the truth beats down

in the morning

and there’s frost on

the newly turned earth

when your song is on the radio

and nobody will tell you

when your magazines

beg to be read

when your clothes ache

to be worn

when you don’t care

and your love is no more

and you leave a hole

when people were afraid

when your signals crossed

and you made a mistake

that you can’t take back

now your pens don’t write

and your secrets are

no longer sacred

and the only witness

is your pillow

and the blankets

refuse to give a statement

and the air is thick

with confidential information

and the curtains

are acting dumb

and the television

didn’t hear a thing

when questions are answered

and answers are questioned

when you’re alone and

you don’t understand

when everybody’s talking

but nobody’s saying anything

when people you didn’t know

are apologizing

when everyone asks why

and you’re not one to say

and you can be oblivious

and you dare to

be silent

when you stop creating

and start destroying

when you need help

but won’t reach out

and you’re depressed

when you can’t show love

and you can’t take it

when you can’t remember

the last time you had fun

when laughter doesn’t

come so easy

and contentment is impossible

when humanity is

a mere abstract thought

and living doesn’t matter

when ceasing is

a good exit

and dying and escape

are the same damn thing

and you would actually do it

and not worry about

others’ feelings

when your mother can offer

no excuse

and you will never apologize

when all the tears and

hurt and anger and burning

and money and screams

won’t bring you back

when you will never ever

call me again and say

“i’m back”

to wake me from this nightmare

when all the poems

throughout human history

offer no condolence,

what will i do

WHAT WILL I DO?

2008-11-28T05:27:00.002-05:00

My daughter loves your son, Kate!

TEL AVIV -- Last Wednesday we were treated by Miriam to Rufus Wainwright at Mann Auditorium. The show was sold out to an exuberant crowd of adoring fans. I will not bother you with my preamble. Here, in Miriam's words, is how it went down.

Where to even begin? It's shows like this that remind me how much I wish I were part of the Wainwright/McGarrigle family. He looked great - love that suit, and I was thrilled to see it make another appearance! - and sounded spectacular. Really, his voice was perfect - one of the best shows I've seen. He hit every falsetto note effortlessly, beautifully. He slipped up a couple of times on lyrics, but recovered seamlessly - and besides, that's what we love about him! I was amazed at his performance considering how jet-lagged I know he is; there's a 7-hour time difference between Israel and New York.

The amazing thing is, I never thought I'd get to see Rufus at all this year. I'm studying in Jerusalem this year, so I expected this to be a painfully Rufus-free year. I did notice a Facebook group called "Bring Rufus to Israel!" but I never thought it'd come to anything. When I discovered that he'd be doing a show here, I couldn't believe the coincidence: the one year that I'm here, Rufus decides to come to Israel! And of course, seeing Rufus definitely eased the pain of missing Thanksgiving.

Part of Rufus' brilliance, I think, is that certain songs take on a completely fresh, magnetic quality when he performs them solo (i.e., "Sanssouci"), and that he revives old songs beautifully (i.e., "Cigarettes And Chocolate Milk," and everything else from that record). It almost seems like he's performing a new song - until you remember that there's a little electric guitar here, some drums there.

And then, a surprise - Kate! She looked radiant, with a great dress and chic new haircut. And she came out [i]barefoot[/i]! She's just amazing. They bantered and chatted; they tried to remember in which key they usually do "If Love Were All;" they tried - and failed - to remember all the words to "A Foggy Day;" Kate corrected Rufus' lyrics to "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" and reminded him that it's "Kate & Anna McGarrigle," not "The McGarrigle Sisters," as he referred to them. Last night as always, it's magical to see the two of them on stage together. [i]Magical[/i].

The Mann Auditorium is a great venue with fantastic acoustics - Rufus even said so himself! The balcony doesn't hang over the orchestra, cramping the theater; instead, the orchestra sweeps gracefully upward to the balcony seats, leaving plenty of open space to be filled by the sound on the stage - perfect conditions for Rufus' HUGE voice.

I managed to capture Rufus' banter in between each song. Here it is:

- Grey Gardens -

"I feel very appropriately dressed for such an - interesting - building (laughter)...Yes, the proper term is, like, 'formal-Jewish' (laughter) - you know, all this pizazz (indicating his suit)!"

- Pretty Things -
- Beauty Mark -

"All right, I know I'm gorgeous, but no more pictures, please (responding to too many camera flashes)!" and "This is my first time in Israel, playing here...I've already put on 5 pounds, eating my way through Jaffa today...I'm a hummus monster...!"

- Nobody's Off The Hook -

"This next song I wrote about a beautiful palace near Berlin called Sanssouci...It started off as an architectural fantasy - well actually, it started off as architecture and then it quickly turned into fantasy: the palace went from being an actual place to my subconscious, where you can eat as much hummus as you like (laughter) and do all sorts of other things which we won't talk about in this very fancy concert hall! Then, of course, there's a moral to the story: at the end of the song you open the doors to the ball and there's nobody there. But I heard that's not the way it is in Tel-Aviv: I heard all the balls are always full (laughter)! So anyway, here's a little bit of austerity for you..."

After a few lines of Sanssouci, he sang the wrong words: "...Gently polishing my - oh, wrong words! Let's start this again...There are these two girls dancing and I..." - and then something about their dancing affecting him like a "normal person..."

- Sanssouci -

"I'm kind of excited to do this song in Israel because you guys are still waiting for your messiah - except for the beard people...So maybe this is who it'll be!"

- Gay Messiah -

"This next song is from my new album, Release The Stars...uh, is that my new album? (laughter) Or is the Judy album my new album? I can't...you know, whatever, they're two separate - things - of this incredible body (laughter)...I have to do that so people won't be disappointed if I don't make a fool of myself (laughter)...So yeah, this one is a sad song (shrug) (laughter)...I'm just trying to confuse you: first I make you laugh, then I make you cry...Then I make you believe!"

- Not Ready To Love -

"So before playing this next song, I just have to preface it with a couple of things: one is that, let's start off by being really really happy and joyful about the fact that Obama won the election! (cheers!) Very very excited about that. But on the other hand, let's be a little bit sad that in America on the same day, there was horrible, horrible legislation passed - anti-gay stuff in California and Florida about gay marriage - which frankly, I'm really not that into gay marriage, personally (applause) - I don't plan to get married, really - well, maybe I'd like the decision, maybe I'd like to be able to, or something, but that being said - in fact, I was once having a conversation with Boy George (laughter), and we were talking about policy and politicians, and somehow we were talking about politicians I like, and I said, 'Yeah, he's pro-gay marriage and anti-death penalty,' and Boy George said, 'Isn't gay marriage kind of a death penalty?" (laughter) - but that being said, I am strongly against any kind of discriminatory or exclusionary words being put in the American Constitution, I think it's terrible, so that's what I'm against (applause) - and also, government legislating your sex life, it's just terrible. So anyway, those are the two things I want you to remember."

And then he launched into Going To A Town - the newly altered version, in which he sings, "I'm not tired of you, America," "After soaking the body of Jesus Christ in blood/I'm so tired of California," "And not for thinking everything that you've done is good/I'm so tired of you, Florida."

- Going To A Town -

Following GTAT: "In a song, once I write a negative comment, it always fixes it and then everything is wonderful in about a year (laughter)...I'm just kidding, I'm kidding - I'm getting the Jerusalem Complex as I'm sitting here on stage (laughter)...but anyway, in light of all this more positive American attitude that was starting to happen with the Obama candidacy, and now Presidency, I wrote a song about New York. So this song's about New York, which everybody - every Jew in the world loves New York!"

- Who Are You New York -

"You're all so lucky tonight because I have an amazing person with me: my mother is here (cheers!)...and (as Kate walks out, barefoot, holding a camera) - are you filming me?!" She pointed the camera at the audience, took a picture, gave a thumbs-up, and sat down at the piano. Rufus: "We're gonna do this one song and then there's gonna be a little intermission, and - please come back! (shrug) (laughter) We've done a bit of New York, bit of America - we've been in America a lot, I think, and now we're gonna move over to England, and we're gonna do a song by the great Noel Coward..."

- If Love Were All -

"Well, if we sing 'If Love Were All,' we have to sing 'A Foggy Day'...well, we have to remember it first...uh...how does it start? It goes..."
Kate: "Uh, how does it go?"
Rufus offers a half-assed attempt that peters out at the end: "I was a stranger in this city..."
Kate mumbles a little bit, tries singing a few notes as she searches for the right chords...lots of laughter, and then Rufus says something that sounds like, "You gotta give her credit...D'you want to just start?"
Kate: "Okay - how does it start?"
Rufus: "I was a stranger in this city..." and they fumble all the words in the song, though very comedically so, with that McGarrigle-Wainwright nonchalance, until they finally get to the chorus and finish the song beautifully.

- A Foggy Day -

INTERMISSION

- The Art Teacher -

"We've done America, we've done England, and we're gonna move a little south and do some Paris. I've noticed there's a lot of French - we've been having a funny experience, my mother and I, because usually when we want to say something, you know, naughty, about someone, we usually do it in French...but everybody here speaks French - but we do it anyway!"

- Leaving For Paris - (breathtakingly beautiful when it's done live!)

...which seamlessly led into a perfect rendition of:

- Hallelujah - (the whole theater was singing along)

- California -

"You guys are a really great audience - thanks so much for being great. And now I'm gonna tell you the one - I mean, this is good, you're gonna love this - the one - well, it's an actual funny Holocaust story. It actually doesn't involve the Holocaust - at the time - but it's an amazing story that I just have to tell while I'm here. Do you all know the actor Walter Matthau? Great actor. He was visiting Auschwitz, and he was there with his agent, and they were about to enter into the gas chamber, and right before that happened, this woman came up to them and said, 'Oh my God, it's Walter Matthau! Can I have your autograph?!' And he turned to her and said, 'Madam, this is really the wrong time to ask me for this, it's totally inappropriate, and no, you cannot have my autograph. Goodbye.' So then she left, and they went into the gas chamber, saw it, and then they left, and as they were leaving, she ran up to him and said, 'I just want you to know that you ruined my trip to Auschwitz!' True story!"

- Rebel Prince -

Saying that he comes from a musical family...talking about Kate: "...and she, of course, is an incredible singer, part of a classic duo called the McGarrigle Sisters - I hope you go out and get all their records - and also my sister, Martha Wainwright, is a singer, and I have another sister, Lucy Wainwright Roche, who's a singer, and my father, of course, the great Loudon Wainwright, is a singer, so we're all - and there's even others - so I'm from a - I'm basically from the circus (laughter), and this next song sort of touches on that...it's about wanting to be just a member of the family - even though it's the circus."

- Want -

Kate comes back on stage: "It's not the 'McGarrigle Sisters,' it's 'Kate & Anna McGarrigle."
Rufus: "Oh, I'm sorry...!" (laughs)
Kate: "And it's not a circus, either."
Rufus: "Ohhhh...."
Kate: "Circuses are FUN..."
Rufus: "Okay, mother...(feigned innocence) Irish mothers are sort of like Jewish mothers. (laughter) We're gonna do one of Kate's songs now - why don't you tell us a little bit about it?"
Kate: "It's called 'Mendocino,' which has a whole complicated story that I'm not gonna go into now...Do you remember how it goes?"
Rufus: "Yeah, I remember."
Kate: "Do you remember your part better than the way I remembered your part in the other song?"
Rufus: "Uh...we'll see...This IS the circus...and nobody knows what'll happen..." After a few moments of Kate finding the right chord: Do you remember YOUR part?"
Kate: "I do. (laughter) We've never done it together before on piano -"
Rufus: "Okay."

And it was gorgeous, obviously! What a beautiful song.

- Mendocino -

"Mendocino" leads into "Somewhere Over The Rainbow." Rufus sings: "Somewhere over the rainbow/Skies are -"
Kate quickly corrects him: "Way up high -" and Rufus quickly recovers, amid laughter. The rest of the song is stunning.

- Somewhere Over The Rainbow -

Kate kisses Rufus, leaves the stage.

- Zebulon -

ENCORE

- Complainte de la Butte -

"We're gonna bring my mother out again, we're gonna do another song...We thought that with all of this, sort of, cultural mishmash that is the world, we would do an Irish song. Since we're Irish - sort of. Half-Irish. She's very Irish - you're very Irish, right?"
Kate: "I'm half - I'm five-eighths -"
Rufus: "Five-eighths Irish. Which means you're very, VERY Irish. (laughter) Another reason I wanted to sing it is that this morning I woke up early and went to breakfast, and they had this incredible breakfast at the hotel, and I stuffed my face, but then I was like, 'There's one thing really missing,' and I couldn't quite - 'What's missing?' and I was like, 'Of course - bacon! There's no bacon!' (laughter) And this next song, sort of, is about bacon. (laughter) It's an ode to bacon - and the Irish, if there are any Irish people out there. And also, we were thinking about how - nobody knows this song - it's probably American, actually - we were thinking, written by Irish Americans, but then we thought it was probably actually written in the Brill Building, which in the '20s, or something, is where all the songwriters in New York wrote their lyrics - and it was probably written by Jews! Because most of those songwriters were Jews. Whatever. So who knows? But there's a connection there, somewhere. (laughter) It's called, uh...what's it called?"
Kate: "It's called, uh...I don't know the name of it..."
Rufus: "I don't know...It's called BACON! (laughter) It's called the Little Pigs. It's called the Little Pigs. Okay, let's go."
Kate: "Wait - what key do we do it in?"
Rufus: "Da-na..." (trying out a key)
Kate: "Too high..."
Rufus: "Ohhhh! (trying out another key) No, that's not too high. I can hit that note. I want to hit that note...(whining)"
Kate: "Well, if you think it's not too high..."
Rufus: "Yeah, I can hit it." (cheers!)
Kate: "Now you're being Irish - you gotta hit that high note."
Rufus: "I know, I know...Get high, hit the high note..."
Kate: "Get high and hit the pavement."
Rufus: (laughing) "Hit the high road...Give me a little intro...As I went out one evening in Tipperary town/I spied a fair...(looks to Kate for assistance) mavourneen -"
Kate: "- I spied a little colleen -"
Rufus; "- I spied a little colleen/Amongst the heather brown...."

Kate leaves the stage, but first grabs the microphone and says, "I got this dress from Marc Jacobs - I paid nothing for it."

- Poses -

THE END

By the end of the night, I'd gone from being a lonely expatriate with Rufus-less prospects, to saying hello to him at the stage door! I've been lucky enough to meet him after other concerts in the U.S. (plus a chance - or was it by divine providence? - meeting on the street in New York!), and didn't really want to bother him with pictures and autographs - so I just said, "Go and see La Traviata - I just saw it, and it's wonderful!" He said, "Oh, okay! Okay!" and it may have been my imagination, but he did seem to have recognized me...!

Meantime, my mum had gone over to Rufus' van, where Kate was already seated. My mom's a musician by trade who's played at various folk festivals over the years - including Mariposa, in Canada, which was a big gig of Kate & Anna's back in the day. Unfortunately, the year my mom was invited to play, the McGarrigles canceled because one of them was pregnant. Still, they have a few mutual friends from the music world, and when my mum went over to their van last night, they started talking and reminiscing...Kate was thrilled to hear the names of some of her old friends - I'm sure a little bit of familiarity while on the road must've been nice - and at one point, my mum quietly said, "You know, my daughter really loves your son," and they both beamed and shared a beautiful moment of motherly pride. "It's rare for a mom to be so involved with her kids in this business," my mum later told me.

I agree that Rufus may not have expected such a receptive audience. I think he was a little bit surprised by Israel, to be honest. Like most people, probably surprised to find that while it is the Jewish state, it's not all about religion and Judaism.

Finally, I'd like to add that there IS bacon in Israel! As demonstrated by a little pizza shop around the corner from the theater that served bacon-topped pizza! (I even have a picture to prove it!)

2008-11-18T21:57:00.002-05:00

Do not miss this show!

The Dan Sheehan Conspiracy was scheduled to play a full-band, all-out rock show at Desmond's Tavern in Manhattan this Friday night, but we will instead be playing an EVEN MORE SPECIAL acoustic set featuring Dan and Gianluis (our new bassist). Our drummer Bobby unfortunately had a death in his extended family and cannot peform, but rather than cancel we other 2 guys decided to offer this special treat.

Says Dan of the change of plans, "It just so happens that I just came back from a solo acoustic tour in Arizona, so I'm certainly in gear for the stripped down thing. Those shows, and other acoustic shows I've played lately have had a lot of energy to them as I've learned to make up for sparse instrumentation, and having Gian contributing his bass and vocals is going to make it all sound nice and full, and display the craft of the songs perhaps more than our electric shows where underpaid sound people botch up our mix.

"PLUS," Sheehan adds, "folks can bring their parents, grandparents, and folkie friends who otherwise might mistake our electric guitar and drum-laden shows for Ozzfest."

So there you have it, folks. Come on down to Desmond's Tavern, 433 Park Ave South (bet. 29th & 30th) Friday night with $7 or more and check out this unique DSC experience!!!

8:00 Ryan Voster
8:45 All Out Riot
9:30 Dan and Gianluis of the Dan Sheehan Conspiracy
(212) 725- 9864

2008-10-24T11:51:00.000-04:00

"Search For Heroic Beings" Art Show and Reception
Connected to "The Golem"

The Teaneck Festival of Arts, co-sponsor of "The Golem" screening with orchestral accompaniment at The Teaneck International Film Festival on Nov 15th, is presenting a related art show, "The Search for Heroic Beings" which will be on display at the Teaneck Public Library for the month of November.

The Art Show will consist of more than a dozen adult visual artists’ interpretation of the theme, along with masks created by 5th and 6th graders at Teaneck’s Community Charter School headed by Master Mask Maker from Teaneck - Howard Berelson - who worked with the students in Ms. Beverly Cooper’s art classes.

A Meet the Artists Reception co-sponsored by the Teaneck Public Library with the unveiling of an Art Video created by Film Editor Liz Celotto, based on the display, will be held in the Library Auditorium on Sunday, November 2nd from 3-5 pm. In addition, a special arts partnership has been formed with characters from WINTUK by Cirque du Soleil that will come decked out in the wintry colors of WINTUK which opens soon at Madison Square Garden's WAMU Theatre. Participants at the reception will have a chance to win a Family Four Pack of tickets to one of their upcoming shows. The quartet of joyful ambassadors will be a feast for the eyes and will stilt-walk, play, and clown their way into the hearts of young and old alike. www.cirquedusoleil.com (see photo enclosed)

The Art Reception is free and open to the public. Tickets for "The Golem" being shown at Theater One at Cedar Lane Cinemas during the Film Festival on Nov 15th at 8pm, are $20 in advance and $25 at the door. The art video will be displayed at 7:30pm. Advance tickets can be purchased at Brier Rose Books, 450 Cedar Lane; the Teaneck Public Library; Cedar Lane Cinemas after 6 pm; and Simply the Best, 472 Cedar Lane, Teaneck or by calling 1-800-811-2909. Tickets can also be purchased on line at www.teaneckfilmfestival.org For more info on the Art Show go to www.teaneckfoa.org

Teaneck Festival of Arts and the Teaneck International Film Festival are both projects of the Puffin Foundation, Ltd. located here in Teaneck.

2008-09-28T23:36:00.002-04:00

Rosh Hashana festive cuisine a la Kraar

Yona has great sway over us -- we're going veggie. So great news about that: the challah can be dairy. Here's our menu, which I'm posting in case you need some inspiration in the kitchen right about now.

No one said that meat had to be the boss of you!

Choc. chip/currant challah
Salad
Veg. Shepherd's pie
Masha's kugel
Xmas apple sauce

CHALLAH -- THIS challah will have five cups of flour, including rye, soft, hard, whole wheat, handful of corn flour, and unbleached, all mixed together, whatever I had leftover from my JohnVince adventures. I'll also chop some unsweetened Bakers Chocolate in the processor, add a generous handful of tiny dried currants, sugar in place of honey, canola oil in place of olive oil, and milk to make up half the quantity of water. Why? Because it's half-cake, half-bread. Think of the french toast we will have afterward! You can butter it with real butter! During dinner!

SHEPHERD'S PIE -- The main meal is veggie shepherd's pie using several kinds of veggie meat, some of which will be processed in the grinder.

SWEET POTATO KUGEL -- And Masha's incredible sweet potato kugel (again, write for recipe) with marshmallows on top, just how Marty loves it.

SALAD -- Salad, of course, in Masha's famous salad spinner. Whatever is in the fridge goes in the bowl.

X-MAS APPLESAUCE -- And home-made apple sauce made from the cheapo bin apples for a buck a bag. Peel, core and cook. What makes it special is you put it in a clear glass serving bowl and set aside while you shuck a pomegranate in the sink. Clean up the seeds, then throw as many as desired into your cooled apple sauce. In the light you will see these beautiful red luminescent orbs in your all-natural dessert, shining like Christmas bulbs. Try it!

2008-09-16T09:26:00.002-04:00

Thanks, Jeff Rosen and the Canadian Jewish News!

I have a piece in the CJN about the Hadassah Bazaar in this week's edition. Visit me again a little closer to Bazaar time to see the piece with a couple of pictures from way back when.

Read the CJN story here.

2008-09-02T21:46:00.013-04:00

Oct. 27/99
Hadassah Bazaar

I was digging around in search of some photos from my late mother's collection, and I came across three sheets of note paper stapled together, a first draft of a vignette that she had written about the famous Hadassah Bazaar. I thought that since this is the Bazaar's last year, I would share with you this colourful little piece that I was so fortunate to stumble upon.

For most of my childhood, my mother spent much of her free time devoted to Massada, her Canadian Hadassah Wizo chapter. Although she was a full-time career woman who owned her own dress shop in the west end of Toronto, nothing could tire her out enough to miss a Hadassah meeting with the thirty or so ladies who made up the chapter. They were like a family -- these Holocaust survivors, most of whom were from Poland, many of whom had kids my age, and some of whom worked in their husband's businesses. The organized teas, they canvassed for things to sell at the bazaar, they had garage sales during the year. They argued, they irritated each other, they roared and then they roared with laughter. The stories I'd hear! But in the end, what they were doing was "for a good cause," and that was what it was all about. And we all counted down the days to the bazaar. It was the most exciting day on the calendar -- like a holiday, but without synagogue. It always fell just prior to Halloween, and there was a bit of a Mardi Gras feel to it, very festive and free, with live music, a car raffle, off-track betting, and even a high-tone auction.

I loved it best when young male students would approach the Massada chapter tables, and the members would run to coddle them, dress them up, tell them what was the right length, what matched their eyes, and what was a good bargain. There were also mountains of kids' clothes, some quite "vintage." We loved dressing up the little moppets who tagged along with their mothers.

How many times did I see my mother shaking her head from side to side, and then I'd overhear her say to someone, "It's not flattering. Come over here to this rack, let me show you something that is more suited to your frame."

My job was to create ensembles and then mount them high enough for the throngs to see. I would put a blouse on a hanger, puff it out over a snazzy belt and pin a pair of slacks to it from behind. We also sold these "models" first. Toward the end of the day, one of the members would announce, "Fill a bag for five dollars!" and again, the huddled masses would storm the tables.

I cannot recall how many times over the years my mother prayed for someone to relieve her of her role as chapter president. On those nights she would put the gavel in a plastic bag, along with her binder, and go out the door, gone for hours. Invariably, the next morning, the gavel would reappear, like a bad penny. She was the perpetual Hadassah lady, toiling away for the benefit of a far-off hospital in Jerusalem that most members saw maybe once or twice in their lifetime.

I was saddened to hear that Hadassah was pulling the plug on the bazaar, although intellectually I do understand it. Back in 1999, my mother also saw the writing on the wall at the Automotive Building of the Canadian National Exhibition grounds, which was the gargantuan home to the bazaar in its heyday. Nothing could compare then, and nothing will, ever.

(Pictured above: former Toronto Mayor Mel Lastman with my mother. Pictured below: Several members of the Massada chapter in front of the massive booths at the bazaar)

______________________________________________________________

Oct. 27/99
Hadassah Bazaar

by Ann Szedlecki
My late, wonderful mother

Our blue smocks come out of the closet once a year. They identify us as members of Hadassah Wizo, the women's organization. Massada, our chapter, is thirty-five years old.

Finally the preparation is over and we wait for 9 a.m. That's when the doors open and a sea of humanity surges forth. They waited outside in the line for hours.

Ours was a large chapter. The members either housewives or career women, bringing up young children.

We watched them grow up, go to high school and institutions of higher learning, and on to their chosen professions. We, the members of Massada, attended their simchas, and also shared in their losses. Over the years it became evident that we were aging, and the chapter could not stay as active as it had been before. We joined the organization and attended its conventions, either in Israel or in Canada. We did the best we could, because we felt that as Jews we work for a worthy cause, benefitting Israel.

Who could forget vivacious, funny Molly, always with a joke. Even with an oxygen tank she attended our meetings and never felt left out. Or Frances, a wonderful generous person who was always willing to volunteer for tasks that were hard to fill. They are both gone now.

The rest of us are less able to do the job, but we are trying.

We are flooded with memories of the bazaars past. One man changed his mind and got his back up for a pair of pants. In one of the pockets we found twenty dollars. We took the money, but for the sake of public relations we returned ten dollars. A lady offered eight dollars for a piece of material that we had priced at eight dollars. Obviously she did not hear.

People attend the bazaar every year and we see familiar faces. We never heard a negative word about Jews or Israel, even though most of the customers were not Jewish. My daughter, who lives in New Jersey, drove all day Tuesday with a nine-month-old baby, and left Thursday early, so eager was she to be here, where she attended so many bazaars over the years.

Everybody in the chapter brings a bag of food, drinks, fruits, so that, G-d Forbid, we wouldn't starve. Our own coats get stored in boxes under the tables. Some of them get sold (by accident!), my own jacket included!

Nine o'clock, doors open, and we are open for business. Everything so neatly displayed on tables immediately gets messed up by people browsing for bargains. We don't bother to straighten anything -- the next person will probably find what they were looking for at the bottom of the pile.

Time goes fast. Another sandwich and another coffee. Some members go home to be replaced by others. A few, including me, stay until the end in order to provide return transportation for the other members.

The loudspeaker announces closing time. Some of us have been on our feet since seven this morning, and it is around nine o'clock at night now. Tens of thousands of people have been through our three continuous booths, loaded with used clothing, and some new things, such as shoes and clothes that have been donated by our suppliers. Even fur coats. The leftovers are picked up by other organizations to be sold again.

So this is it? Where did the time go? Maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to do one more bazaar in the year 2000. That will mark a double-chai for our chapter. Allevay!!

2008-08-27T15:35:00.006-04:00

Summer Roundup

It's been a very eventful summer, to say the least. Little GuitarGirl is all growed up with one daughter on staff at Camp Shalom and the other one moving up the ranks and now ensconced at Camp Solelim. With autumn in the wings, Miriam is set to go off to Israel for the year and Yona starts high school.

My mother's memoir is getting ready to be published, and I'm busily working away at the one-woman show based on her life in Siberia, as well as transcribing Dad's oral history. It's premature, but I've picked out the appropriate props for Mum's show. They include: her first kitchenette set (circa 1954); a modest writing desk; and the chair she bought from Suzette's dad's furniture store the year she separated from Dad and lived at 12 Rockford Road in Willowdale. Those are the remnants of her life in Toronto that I've stored away in a little cubby in Englewood, NJ. I've also picked the music, including much vintage Polish and Russian stuff from the military and movies of the WWII era. I've also included Hollywood favourites of hers.

We went to Israel for a couple of weeks on what was to have been a productive business-meets-pleasure trip, but which became my struggle with a very nasty stomach virus. There was much of that going around Jerusalem, where we were headquartered. That knocked the wind out of my sails for around 10 days. I mostly slept, ate dry rye toast and drank tea.

When my energy level somewhat returned, I convinced Marty that we needed to go to the desert, away from the intensity and noisy continuum of Jerusalem. I wanted to look out and see magnificent sandy dunes, Sodom apple trees, crevices where the flash floods rage in winter, flocks of goats along the side of the road, and the Dead Sea in the background. I wanted to hear the sound of God, unencumbered. I wanted to feel the breeze that comes at 5.30 p.m. when the night air starts to blanket everything and forgive the baked ground its crusty summer blister.

We researched and found a bed and breakfast in Arad called Beit Ahuva. Since that was my Hebrew name, I thought it was worth a try -- if only to go down to the desert and consort with the locals and forget the noise and the congestion of the city. And all the English that dilutes the Middle Eastern experience. We were not disappointed. In fact, we were embraced by Yoel, the proprietor, who invited us to a barbecue he was having for a few friends at home that evening. We decided it would be easier if our new friends called us by our Hebrew names, so Ahuva and Moshe it was. In Yoel's crowd there are three people named Moshe, so it got more interesting as the beer and booze flowed, and as the platters of food came out. I even found a fellow Siedlecki in the crowd, who happened to be the daughter of a woman from Siedlec who married someone named Siedlecki. We immediately became fast friends.

I had been off meat for a good while by then, but the smell was irresistible. The Moshe who was called Mussa (Arabic for Moshe, despite the fact that like me, he is a Polish Jew with Lodz roots) was grilling away a mixture of beautiful cuts of tenderloin, chicken and some other fresh-cut and marinated meats. All things being equal in the Holy Land, the meat was neither kosher nor hallal, NOR shall I tell you from which Levantine brother this meat was purchased. This is how it is in the desert. There are no TV cameras here, showing you hordes of angry religionists gargling to God while threatening death and destruction to their enemies (that's about an hour away from here, which is considered pretty darned far). Everyone here is friendly; everyone has a gun. But these things are never discussed. What's more of interest these days are the upcoming Israeli elections, the new plant that got approval in a very hush-hush manner, the new mall that is supposed to be happening. You can get a villa overlooking the desert here for $125,000. Or a lot for much less. They are not eager to bring the masses from the city down here. That's just a lot of talk.

Back in Jerualem, after this wonderful getaway, we made some progress catching up with work, rescheduling meetings and seeing people we had been trying to see. There was nothing on TV: My football team, Maccabi Tel Aviv, was off. But then I got word of a Betar Jerusalem v. Wisla Krakow game that sounded interesting. I felt a low-level excitement. There was a buzz in the air about this match. We hit a local sports bar in a trendy neighbourhood of Jerusalem where the sound was turned up as the first game, at Teddy Stadium (just up the road) was taking place.

The bar went quiet. We shouted at the TV. We were tense. We were quiet, and then we shouted at the TV some more. At half-time, Jerusalem was down and it looked like the Krakow team would take the game.

But surprise of surprises when the next morning the paper came, heralding a Betar Jerusalem victory over the Polish team. The city of Jerusalem sprung to life. The game had stimulated great discussion. What was our fascination with this game? It seemed to affect the Eastern European Jews more, but the Sephardic Jews were also empathetic.

We would have a few days to play "Monday morning quarterback" and figure out what went right, what went wrong, and how "we" were going to prepare for Game Two, which was to be played at week's end in Krakow. Fans bought their tickets and made their way to Poland. The team was delayed due to a mechanical, and arrived to Poland exhausted. The management took a trip to Auschwitz to pay respect to Holocaust victims. There was a murmuring about the anti-Semitic nature of the Poles, and particularly of the Polish fans.

Game Two was the elimination round for a face-off against Barcelona. I was torn. I didn't really know where my loyalty lay. Was I going to be faithful to Poland, or to Israel? Could I be objective?

I joke about the nature of football, calling it "a man soap opera." But in fact that's just a front for how I really feel. It's about gaining power in the international arena for a fleeting moment -- to feel almighty and to represent your people, to lift their spirits, no matter how powerless governments and armies make them feel.

According to Wikipedia:

Two Jerusalemites, David Horn and Shmuel Kirschstein, decided in 1936 to form a local football team. David Horn was the local chief of Betar, the youth movement of the Revisionist (liberal nationalist) Party, a pre-statehood Zionist movement. To this day Beitar fans are generally identified with that movement's successor party, the Likud or other right-wing groups. The leaders of the youth federation saw this as a project to produce a football club with Beitar's self-defined qualities of Hadar (self-respect) and Hod (glory). The earliest squad was composed entirely of Beitar youth members, including a future government minister, Chaim Corfu. They played initially at the "banana field" close to Beitar youth group's "nest."

Beitar's association with the Revisionist Party quickly brought them into conflict with the British authorities of that time, as well as the fans of Hapoel Jerusalem, a team connected with the Jewish socialist Israel Workers Party (Mapai) in the years 1939-48. Most Beitar players were also secretly members of the Revisionist-affiliated National Military Organization (Irgun Zva'i Leumi) or Freedom Fighters of Israel (Lehi), two groups in open rebellion against Britain's control over Palestine. In the 1940s the British arrested most of the group's players, exiling them to Eritrea and Kenya along with many Irgun and Lehi leaders. Part of their defiance (which also included legendary prison escapes) was the forming of the Beitar Eritrea side that included Micah Aharoni, Corfu, and the goalkeeper Moshe Baruch. In 1948 the British Mandate ended and the interned players were repatriated to the new State of Israel.

As for Wisla Krakow, Wiki says:

The history of Wisła started during the fall of 1906, when (probably in October) Dr. Tadeusz Konczyński organised the Krakow Błonia, the first football tournament in the city. He also founded four teams (among them one came from the Second Real School) and football uniforms which came to him from England. The school's team (also called Szkolnikowski's team) was given light blue shirts with a black bowl on their chests, which was divided by a blue belt. This is why they were called "The Blues". Their first captain, and also the person to coin the name "Wisła" was Józef Szkolnikowski - goalkeeper. Prof. Tadeusz Łopuszański was the club's first chairman.

In September 1907 "The Reds" (Jenkner's team) merged with Wisła, and soon after "The Pinks" did the same. That is when Towarzystwo Sportowe Wisła officially began. The Blue shirts were changed to red, but the black trousers remained. When the first uniforms arrived from Berlin, two light blue stars were present on the shirts. It was decided that only one would remain, though its colour would be changed to white. This is how "The White Star" became the recognized symbol of the club. From that time on the club had its ups and downs, winning national championships and gaining European qualification. The club was also relegated on three occasions to the second division.

The fateful day came when the two teams met in Krakow. I watched the match. I knew from the instant Betar took the field that they were not equipped to deal with this very focused, very professional team on their home turf. At the end, the pundits said, "I told you so" and the headlines would read, "Habayta (homeward)" in the papers.

It was hard to watch that game and not think about the dual loyalty - how some people may want Jerusalem to beat Poland because it's about Jews against their former neighbours. On the other hand, it was clear that this was football - plain and simple. And that Wisla Krakow was going to win and face Barcelona no matter what, because that's what was on their minds. The Israelis seemed distracted and beaten down by the end of the first half. The overwhelming sound of the Wisla Krakow fans was deafening, even from all these miles away.

The Israeli commentators did their job with great resignation in their voices, but they were intent to note that there was nothing anti-Semitic about the behaviour of the fans, the Polish news stories, etc. This was purely about the best athletic team. And Krakow was it. And the Brozek brothers are truly amazing athletes that deserve our respect and praise. Period.

My gut was that I would now root for Krakow to overtake Barcelona. Which I did.

Nothing left to do but get ready for September.

2008-06-25T07:19:00.004-04:00

Scrabble enthusiast Maurice DeCanio, 66, of Bergenfield

Saturday, June 21, 2008

BY JAY LEVIN

Bergen Record Staff Writer

Qat. Xu. Vug. Twa. Nidi. Khi. Qaid. Zebu. Oot. Zerk.

Photo caption: Maurice DeCanio of Bergenfield with his grandson Anthony Marco. A friend called him "one of the great gentlemen of Scrabble."

They look like typos, but they were things of beauty to Maurice DeCanio.

The Bergenfield wordsmith and retired automobile upholsterer, who died June 13, enjoyed Scrabble for much of his 66 years.

He played frequently and proficiently. He mastered the Official Scrabble Players Dictionary. He knew that the anagrams for his first and last names are URAEMIC and CODEINA. And he shared his passion for the venerable crossword game with others in the National Scrabble Association's Club 251.

Maurice, known for his warm smile and neatly trimmed goatee, was "one of the great gentlemen of Scrabble," said club member Paul Mistrette of Little Falls.

As director of Club 251, which meets Thursday evenings at the Rodda Community Center in Teaneck, Maurice kept the matches moving, paired players according to skill level, adjudicated word challenges and patiently gave advice to novices, such as, "Don't squander that blank! Don't waste that S!"

And if there was an even number of people on a club night, Maurice would pull up a chair and play.

"Maurice was never less than gracious to everyone, from nervous newcomers to the old timers," said club veteran Marian Calabro of Hasbrouck Heights. "And Scrabble is a hobby that can attract - how can I put this? - some odd people."

Lynda Kraar of Teaneck joined Club 251 seven years ago. She learned the words and board strategy. And before venturing onto the tournament circuit, she asked Maurice to critique her play.

"I'd sit with him and play a game, and he'd tell me how I could've played it differently," Kraar said.

"Maurice was really happy to see how I progressed. All the ladies in the club are afraid to play me now."

No one was happier than Maurice when Kraar broke 500 for the first time.

It didn't matter to Maurice that he was Kraar's opponent that game.

But that was the great thing about Maurice: There was nothing cutthroat about him.

How does a person become a Scrabble maven?

Maurice DeCanio wasn't into book learning at Teaneck High School, said his wife, Joyce, but he did play Scrabble as a kid and was a lifelong reader.

Give him a novel, and he'd devour it in two days.

He just loved words.

A 40-year resident of Bergenfield, Maurice worked as a lithographer and then owned a couple of bars before settling into automobile upholstery.

A clue to his trade: His everyday Scrabble board is set in a turntable of blue imitation leather.

Maurice kicked his hobby up a few notches when the Teaneck Scrabble club was formed 20 years ago.

Like all serious players, he studied laminated lists of anagrams and bizarre two-, three- and four-letter words. He kept the lists "all over the house - the bedroom, the kitchen, the living room," said his daughter Lauren Marco, a special education teacher at Hackensack High School.

Marco said she used to play Scrabble with her dad - "until he got too good."

Maurice also squared off against unseen opponents.

"He played online every day," Joyce DeCanio said. "He got the program that allowed him to play people from all over the world - in Fiji, in Australia … "

Maurice's official Scrabble rating, based on his performance at sanctioned tournaments, was 1556, just below expert level. Putting 1556 into perspective, the world's top player is rated 1978; beginners clock in at, say, 600.

On June 12, a Scrabble night, Maurice ran the club as usual, got home at 11 o'clock and went to bed.

He died in his sleep of a heart attack.

"That was the last thing Maurice did - attend a Scrabble club meeting," said Joyce DeCanio, mourning a husband who appreciated good food, good wine, good company - and good tiles. "I hope he got to play."

2008-06-02T07:38:00.001-04:00

Thank you, New York!

What a fabulous feeling to be playing to a full house at Symphony Space. It was a thrill. See you there again next year!

2008-05-16T19:14:00.005-04:00

Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus
brings Yiddish song to Symphony Space

NEW YORK CITY -- After years of packing smaller houses around the city, the Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus will make its debut at NYC’s 700-seat Peter Norton Symphony Space for its 86th Annual Spring Concert on Sunday, June 1, at 4 pm.

Peter Norton Symphony Space, which has already signed up the JPPC for 2009, will enable a much larger crowd to hear the Chorus' century-long repertoire of rare and popular Yiddish music, directed by composer/conductor Binyumen Schaechter.

And yes, there is a new wave of people from all walks of life, ages, and religions who are becoming enthusiasts of this 1,000-year-old “mame-loshn (Yiddish for mother tongue) ” spoken by Eastern European Jews, and the music that helps keep it alive.

Founded in 1922, the all-volunteer JPPC boasts members ranging in age from 20s to 80s and has made guest appearances at Alice Tully Hall, Shea Stadium, Ground Zero, the Museum of the City of New York and, most recently, at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point.

The Chorus’ membership includes students, grandparents, Canadians, Israelis, a Brit, gays and straights, all of varying levels of Jewish observance. Some people speak Yiddish, such as the adult children of Holocaust survivors and late Yiddish poets and thinkers. Some speak no Yiddish at all, but love the music. Conductor and Manhattanite Binyumen Schaechter is himself the progeny of the illustrious late Yiddish linguist Mordkhe Schaechter.

There are lawyers, retirees, recent college grads, and veteran journalists from The New York Times and the Financial Times. There is even the gifted soprano whose jaw-dropping rendition of "A Brivele Der Mamen" could rip your heart out, and who spends her life devoted to Yiddish culture and music. Not Jewish.

This unlikely army of Yiddish singers gathers once a week at the social hall of an Upper West Side senior residence to rehearse its dynamic repertoire -- no less diverse and interesting than the singers – from exciting oratorios and comic operettas to labor anthems, beloved folksongs, and popular tunes.

In its June concert, the JPPC will spotlight the songs of the "Father of Yiddish Theatre," Abraham Goldfaden, who is famous for his lullaby "Rozhinkes Mit Mandlen" / "Raisins and Almonds." It will also perform Wolf Younin and Maurice Rauch's rarely heard folk oratorio,"Fun Viglid biz Ziglid" / "From Lullaby to Song of Victory," tracing the lives of two Jewish children before and after the Holocaust. English translations will be provided.

"Two seasons ago, the JPPC’s selling point had been Sholom Aleichem and I.L. Peretz, whose names themselves sold tickets," explains Schaechter, referring to two of the most renowned and best-loved Yiddish authors of the past century.

Last year, the Chorus featured works by beloved Yiddish composers Mordecai Gebirtig and Mark Warshawsky, who are not exactly household names, Schaechter says. "But as soon as you mentioned ‘Afn Pripetshik’ or ‘Es Brent’, the crowds came running.”

This year, two of the top Yiddish hits, “Rozhinkes Mit Mandlen” and “Afn Pripetshik,” will round out the JPPC’s spring concert, which will also feature lesser-known but equally spellbinding material into which Schaechter has breathed new life.

The JPPC will perform at Peter Norton Symphony Space on Sunday, June 1, at 4 p.m. Tickets are $25 and $15. Symphony Space is located on New York City's Upper West Side, at 2537 Broadway at 95th Street. To buy tickets, visit either www.thejppc.org or www.symphonyspace.org, or call the Symphony Space box office at 212-864-5400.

All about Binyumen Schaechter

Binyumen “Ben” Schaechter is an award-winning composer of musicals, revue songs and cabaret songs which have been performed in theatres and cabarets everywhere. Represented off-Broadway by his musical Double Identity, and in four revues: Naked Boys Singing (now nine years running in New York; also performed throughout five continents, with a film version released on DVD last year); Pets! (published, Dramatic Publishing); That’s Life! (Outer Critics Circle nomination); and Too Jewish? (with Avi Hoffman), for which he was also the Musical Director and on-stage pianist/back-up singer (nominated, Drama Desk and Outer Critics Circle Awards). Too Jewish? was also seen on PBS TV stations across the nation last year. Other musicals include: The Wild Swans (ASCAP's Bernice Cohen Award for Outstanding Achievement in Musical Theatre; Eugene O'Neill National Music Theatre Conference) and Dinner at Eight (2001 BMI Foundation's Jerry Bock Award for Outstanding Achievement in Musical Theatre).

Ben’s music has been sung by Nancy Dussault, Tovah Feldshuh and Andrea Marcovicci; featured on PBS, ABC and NBC; and recorded on nine CDs, including five original cast albums and IT HELPS TO SING ABOUT IT, all songs with Ben Schaechter’s music. He is an alumnus of the BMI Lehman-Engel-Musical Theater Workshop, and a member of ASCAP and the Dramatists Guild.

Now in his "bar mitzvah" 13th year of musical direction with the JPPC, Schaechter’s arrangement of “Borukh Ate,” and original composition , “Ba Di Taykhn Fun Bovl”, will be performed during the June 1st concert.

The skinny on this year's concert’s composers

Jacob Schaefer, founder and "patron saint" of the [formerly Communist] Yiddish Choral movement. Born 1888. Celebrating his 120th anniversary with compositions and arrangements including: “Tsigayner-lidm Nishka,” “Tsum zig” two very different songs by the same name of “Viglid,” “Kirchn-glokn,” “Komunarn-lid” and “Dunay.”

Abraham Goldfaden, father of the Yiddish theater. Died 1908. Commemorating 100 years since his passing with “Rozhinkes Mit Mandlen,” and medley of “Tsu Dayn Geburtstog,” “Flaker Fayer [melody of “Haynt iz Purim”],” “Drey Zikh,” “Di Milekhl [melody of later "Drey zikh du dreydele"],” and “Gekimen Iz Di Tsayt.” The chorus will be singing the medley in the dialect of Goldfaden and the Yiddish theatre, known as "Voliner Yidish."

Wolf Younin, known Yiddish author and teacher. Born 1908. Celebrating 100 years since his birth with “Fun Viglid Biz Ziglid.”

Mark Zuckerman, great a cappella arranger of Yiddish choral music. The JPPC has sung many arrangements of his through the years, including “Dolye Mayne,” “Unter Dayne Vayse Shtern,” “Vilne,” “In Kamf,” “Mayn Rue-Plats,” and others. Born 1948. Celebrating 60 years since his birth with his composition “Mir Zaynen Do Tsu Zingen” and arrangement of “Amerike di Prekhtike.”

Marking the 60th anniversary of the founding of the Jewish State of Israel, the Chorus will also perform two Hebrew compositions sung in Yiddish for years, including “Ba Di Taykhn Fun Bovl (By the Rivers of Babylon/ Al Naharot Bavel)” and “Af A Bergl (Galil Melody / Alei Giva Sham Ba'Galil).”

2008-04-17T23:24:00.001-04:00

From the GuitarGirl industrial kitchens high atop Teaneck, NJ....

THE POPOVERS OF OUR AFFLICTION

My mom's recipe...delicious when warm and will keep for days in a zip-lock bag. You can double/triple up the recipe to make lots for company.

2/3 cup water
1/3 cup oil
1 tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. salt
1 cup matza meal
3 eggs

Bring oil/water/sugar/salt to a boil in a pot on the stove. Remove and add matza, stirring thoroughly. Let mixture cool. Preheat oven to 375 F.

Once the mixture has cooled, add one egg at a time, stirring through until thickened.

Spoon directly onto cookie sheet or put 1-2 tbsp. per bagel in a muffin pan. Bake at 375 degrees F for 45 minutes. They are done when nice and brown, and they should be hollow and airy inside.

Suggestion: Serve warm with a teaspoon of strawberry jam inside the popovers.

THE SPONGE CAKE OF OUR AFFLICTION

Preheat oven to 350 F.
Small bowl for frothing the egg whiltes
Larger bowl for yolks and cake mixture (you will be folding the whites into this bowl)
10-inch tube spring-form

7 eggs
1.5 cups sugar, sifted
1.5 tsp. grated lemon (or orange) rind
1.5 tbs. lemon (or orange) juice
3/4 cup potato starch
dash of salt (not more than 1/8 of a tsp)

1. Separate six of the eggs. Beat the whites with a dash of salt until frothy and nearly stiff. It should make a nice peak.

2. Beat the yolks plus the 7th egg until frothy and creamy yellow. Gradually add sugar, juice and rind. Then gradually add the potato starch and be sure to froth it through the mixture.

3. Fold the whites into the mixture gently.

4. Place in ungreased 10-inch tube pan. Bake in a moderate oven (350 degrees F) about 55 minutes or until cake springs back when touched gently with fingers. Invert pan IMMEDIATELY and cool thoroughly before removing cake.

2008-04-17T10:19:00.005-04:00

Six degrees of musical separation

Our house in Teaneck, NJ, was built in 1922, and for a significant part of its life it was a church. It is on the historic registry in town, and one can find information about it at our local library. Every so often someone will stop by and tell us that they spent their early childhood in our basement, which was once a daycare centre, or that they recall the years that our house was a church, or that they remember the lovely family from whom we purchased the house.

One summer evening, about a year ago, a lithe, beautiful woman with a long, silver ponytail and a very attractive younger woman with two tots appeared at my door. The elder woman said that she grew up in our house in the days when it housed the church. I invited her inside and wanted to hear everything. We had always had a lot of questions and very few answers. She would open up the walls for us and let them speak their volumes.

As she entered our den, she sighed, "This was the organ room," and, pointing to the TV, "Yep, that's where the organ was."

She saw not the packed bookshelves that adorn the room, my thousands of record albums or my wool stash behind the reupholstered chair that Dad had once rescued from the trash in Toronto. She saw her childhood. It was the first time in at least 40 years since she had been in the house.

In the year that has passed since that encounter, we have learned a lot about each other. She is a talented artist who makes and exhibits dolls from her base in Maine, and she is the mother-in-law of a Russian operatic singer who is appearing this week at Weill Auditorium in New York City.

Here's how The New York Times described his Tuesday performance, which is being repeated tonight:

French Ingredients, Russian Dressing

The baritone Anton Belov accompanied by Steven Blier in “Obsession à la Russe” at Weill Hall.
Photograph by Erin Baiano for The New York Times

By VIVIEN SCHWEITZER

April 17, 2008

The mutual attraction between France and Russia, which began in the 18th century when Peter the Great’s daughter the Empress Elizabeth became fascinated with all things French, was a marriage of opposites: musically, the weighty, mournful Russian sound often contrasted with French transparency and spirit. But a program called “Obsession à la Russe,” presented by the New York Festival of Song at Weill Recital Hall on Tuesday and enlivened by the witty commentary of the able accompanist Steven Blier, challenged some of those musical stereotypes. When planning the event, Mr. Blier said, he noted how Russian the French composers could sound — “in their own diaphanous way” — and vice versa.

The first half of the concert, titled “Russia Looks West,” featured songs by Russian composers set to French poetry, beginning with Alexander Dargomyzhsky’s “Au Bal,” a Gallic-flavored parlor piece sung by the young tenor Nicholas Phan. Anton Belov, a baritone with a rich, mellifluous voice, sang two of Tchaikovsky’s “Six French Songs” and “April! A Festive Day in Spring,” an unusually cheery rarity by the teenage Rachmaninoff. Dina Kuznetsova, a soprano with an attractive, bright voice, performed selections including the passionate “Music” by Sergei Taneyev, a student of Tchaikovsky. Ms. Kuznetsova and Mr. Phan combined for three “Vocalises” by Prokofiev, one of a number of Russian artists, including Diaghilev and Stravinsky, who lived in Paris.

The Franco-Russian traffic went both ways. Berlioz, Saint-Saëns and Debussy visited Russia, and many French composers were influenced by their Slavic colleagues. In the second half of the program, “Russia Comes West,” Ms. Kuznetsova sang Stravinsky’s delicate “Two Poems of Konstantin Bal’mont” and Satie’s “Daphénéo,” from a set of three songs dedicated to Stravinsky.
Mr. Phan, whose emotional palette seemed limited, performed songs by Poulenc (the first, “Le Portrait,” an example of the composer sounding like Stravinsky, Mr. Blier said) and Ravel’s “Sainte,” whose chords evoke the Orthodox Church.

The highlight of the evening was Mr. Belov’s powerful renditions of signature songs of the bass Fyodor Chaliapin, another Russian who lived in Paris, including “Trepak” from Mussorgsky’s “Songs and Dances of Death” and the title character’s aria from Rachmaninoff’s “Aleko.” In “Nochen’ka,” a melancholy folk melody, Mr. Belov sounded particularly fine, singing with urgency and soulful pathos.

The program is repeated Thursday night at Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall; (212) 247-7800, carnegiehall.org.

2008-04-06T00:24:00.006-04:00

Separated at Birth?

Something in these two pictures is the same. Can you figure out what it is? I'd love to hear from you when you figure it out. Bonus points if you hit on the the special thing that ties three subjects from these two pictures together.

While you're thinking on that, I would like to give a shout out to Martin Scorsese on his inspirational and electrifying documentary/concert film Shine a Light.

Ain't nothing wrong with vintage, baby.

It was the first time ever that I was able to distinguish the sound of specific equipment onstage -- guitar pickups, amps -- to actually close my eyes and know exactly what I was hearing. After following his record of music documentary making I have a hunch that this was Scorsese's executive creative call.

I don't care what kind of pickups one uses, how jumbo your jumbo frets are, or how kick-ass your groove tubes are: Most of the time you get on the stage and everything turns to mud. A hollow stage, the shape and material of the room, the placement of the equipment, screaming people -- there is nothing that will not contribute to the mud. Sometimes you get so lost in the mix that you just stand there, trying to hear your own amp.

In that case the only solution is to turn it up loud and play it through two amps. Not a bad thing: It actually makes you play more tastefully.

I feel like I've spent my career trying to find my "voice" in a club setting without simply twiddling the volume knob on the guitar and the amp. I learned from Danny Marks a long time ago a simple formula: bass at 3, treble at 7, and reverb never more than 3 (volume is a personal taste-slash-pain-threshhold thing).

To that I add a little analogue echo for the appropriate slap-back and boost the volume into just this side of overdrive for the straight-ahead rockers, some chorus for the ballads, and a super-clean Steve Cropper chunka-chunka sound for the R&B with a mid-speed echo for the reggae and ska whukka-whukka stuff. I have a couple of wah pedals that I dust off for that purpose, too. Great fun. That's mostly for the Fender Telecaster, but also applies to the more diva-ish Gretsch Chet Atkins Nashville with the Bigsby arm that does not like temperature or humidity changes.

But...once you start singing as well as playing, you get distracted by your need to look out into the audience and get into party mode, play Musical Director, and sing on key. Add a big crowd of friendly music lovers and you can forget about it. Mud.

So how nice was it to have an advocate for clean, distinct sound that was so clear I thought I was in my basement, just me and my own equipment, responding to each other's voices. I actually feel guilty for not paying that much attention onstage.

Thank you for your sensitivity, Martin Scorsese. And thanks for understanding and demonstrating how important these things are to the musicians. At the end of the day, it is the listener who is the beneficiary.

So....have you figured out the answer to my quiz yet?

2008-03-21T20:20:00.005-04:00

!!! HaPpY PuRiM !!!

2008-03-10T11:48:00.007-04:00

I did it! I finally came out of the closet!!!

YOUR NEIGHBORS
Mother of two gets high school degree
Recent graduate, 48-year-old Lynda Kraar, is the valedictorian of her class.

Teaneck Suburbanite , March 5, 2008

Mom proves it’s never too late to earn a GED

48-year-old Lynda Kraar decides to pursue her high school diploma

By Pilar Aragon
Correspondent

For those approaching the half-century mark, a mid-life crisis may be looming. But that doesn’t mean you should be turning in your family’s SUV for a Porsche or seeking Oprah’s latest makeover. It might just mean that it’s time to go back to school like Lynda Kraar, of Teaneck, did to get her GED.

“To those who say your hair is gray, you’ve had your best years, your race is run, make room for the new ones, I say, “Do not go gentle into that good night,” said Kraar, [quoting poet Dylan Thomas].

At the age of 48, Kraar has set her sights on getting an associate degree in fine arts for music at Bergen Community College (BCC) after getting her GED this past February 14, the day of her father’s birthday and almost five months after his death.

Nowadays, working on class assignments is a task she shares with her two teenage daughters, Yona, 14, and Miriam, 18.

“She’s a fantastic role model,” says Kraar’s oldest daughter who is a high school senior.

When asked about watching her mom give her valedictorian speech as she received her high school diploma at BCC, she responded, “It was inspirational to see our mom up there.”

“The family was very supportive,” said Marty Kraar, Kraar’s husband of 11 years. “She’ll never have to look back and say, 'I wish I had', because she did.”

Kraar’s high school education ended in the late 1970s when there was a teachers’ strike in her hometown of Toronto, in Canada. The teachers went back, but Kraar never did.

Unlike her parents who were Holocaust survivors from Poland with minimal education – her father was illiterate and her mother’s formal education ended when the Nazis forced Jewish children out of the schools – Kraar has had many opportunities including a career as a musician, journalist, music teacher and a non-profit professional specializing in communications and fundraising. Kraar and her husband recently launched a new business in Fort Lee, Kraar Associates, a consulting firm for the non-profit sector.

Despite her professional accomplishments, Kraar felt unfulfilled because she lacked formal education. After her husband became the executive vice president of the American Committee for the Weizmann Institute of Science, she was surrounded by professionals who had multiple degrees.

“I was living deep in the closet and feeling very inadequate surrounded by people who had built their academic careers into fortresses of knowledge,” Kraar said. “I was afraid I would be found out.”

After Kraar’s mother died in 2005 and her father was placed in a nursing home, she decided it was time for her to reclaim her life and to do things she always wanted to do such as go back to school.

Most of the students in Kraar’s GED class were immigrants who never had the opportunity to finish their high school education, but were seeking to better themselves.

“She was an inspiration to everyone,” said Liz Murakhovsky, Kraar’s instructor. “Lynda was very open and honest about her needs and educational goals.”

Kraar’s next goal includes having her mother’s wartime memoir published in Canada later this year.

Photo Caption: Working on class assignments is a task Lynda Kraar, 48, shares with her two teenage daughters, Yona, 14, and Miriam, 18. Kraar is valedictorian of her Bergen Community College class, earning her GED this past Feb. 14. (Pilar Aragon photo)

2008-02-13T15:22:00.001-05:00

Hi all,

As of Saturday,
the Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus
and our CD
Zingt! - A Celebration Of Yiddish Choral Music
is on CD Baby
and mentioned first as a new listing!

Check us out!

Tell your friends and relatives about the listing!

Ask them to buy the CD!

If they have it already,
have them go to the site and add a favorable comment,
a rave review!

And you do the same!

http://www.cdbaby.com
and click on new arrivals/world/yiddish.

Or click on http://cdbaby.com/cd/jppchorus

At the bottom of the screen there
is a place for comments.

The CD is also featured in two different places in
our STYLE/GENRE GALLERIES:

http://cdbaby.com/style/460
and
http://cdbaby.com/style/169

Let the world know about our Chorus and our CD!

2008-01-21T23:56:00.000-05:00

Deal or no deal?

Deal.

2007-12-12T12:39:00.000-05:00

He brought the Delta blues to players,
audiences here

By Daniel Rubin
Inquirer Staff Writer

Jerry Ricks, 67, a Philadelphia-born guitarist whose expert finger-picking was a direct link to the Delta blues, died Monday in a clinic in Croatia.

His death was announced by the Croatian Music Union, according to an Associated Press report. He had been living in the Balkan nation since early summer.

In August, Mr. Ricks went to a hospital, complaining of headaches and dizziness. Doctors determined that he had a brain tumor. He underwent repeated surgeries for removal of the nonmalignant growth and for a subsequent infection, his partner of 17 years, Nancy Klein, told The Inquirer in October. At the time, he was making a slow but steady recovery.

Mr. Ricks learned to play guitar from some of the greats as they came through Philadelphia clubs in the 1960s: Josh White, Mississippi John Hurt, Brownie McGhee, the Rev. Gary Davis, and Skip James. He in turn taught an authentic style of country blues to legions of guitar students in Philadelphia.

"Jerry was not just a wonderful musician - and he was a terrific guitarist - but he was basically a folklorist and a scholar," said the folk singer Mike Miller. "He just became involved in the history of the music and the people who made it."

Over the years, Mr. Ricks moved in and out of Philadelphia to find work, living in the Mississippi Delta, the Jersey Shore and most recently the Croatian coast.

When he recorded, he went by "Philadelphia" Jerry Ricks to distinguish himself from another musician.

Friends of Mr. Ricks' gathered in October to raise money for his medical expenses. The show, which included performances by Shemekia Copeland, David Bromberg and many friends from the Philadelphia folk revival, brought in more than $10,000, organizers said.

"A lot of people at the benefit said they took their first guitar lessons with Jerry," said the folk singer Saul Brody. "There was quite a range - blues bands, many of whom had studied with Jerry and felt he was one of their original influences, and folkies like myself, who were part of that scene and felt a lot of affection for him."

In a 2000 interview with The Inquirer, Mr. Ricks said of his music: "I never tried to walk in my mentors' footsteps. And nobody ever asked me to carry on their legacy after they were gone. I just had an honest relationship with these people and their music, and I followed my nose around."

2007-12-05T13:38:00.000-05:00

Lynda's "Jersey-Fresh" Latke Recipe

It started when Pearl informed me that she was accepting my invite to our impromptu First Night latke celebration, which has become a part of our life here in Teaneck.

Before I continue, I want to point out that in this picture I am standing with Sarah, proprietor of Le Sabon (locations in Manhattan and Teaneck), who gave me this adorable Koogle apron. She joined Pearl and me and our tribes for the gathering.

Having clarified all this, let's continue:

Around noon on the first day of Chanuka (which I always forget) I invite the neighbours. It separates the men from the boys in the sense that not everyone is as spontaneous as those of us who show up to the house. We had a pretty decent crowd last night, and there was lots of laughter, music, mass consumption and some imbibement.

Okay, so back to Pearl. She can't eat wheat. So sometime in the recent past I made a special batch of latkes for her that had no flour in them. I made two kinds -- sweet potato, and also the standard 2-cent plain variety. Hers had the taste and consistency of a really nice, homey hash brown.

This year we decided to forego the flour and only make latkes from local Jersey farm-fresh produce. And voila, the Jersey latke for you to try at home:

Ingredients:

5 lb. bag of white or yellow potatoes

3 lb bag of yellow onions

2 tsps. iodized salt per batch

12 eggs

1 bottle of olive oil (preferably extra virgin, and the greener the better)

Three or four large bowls

One roll of paper towels

Spatula and/or kitchen forceps

Instructions:

Turn on NPR and put on your rubber gloves. Lay a large dish towel on the floor in front of your stove. You MUST wear shoes that cover your toes, and do not wear drapey clothes as the spattering oil is a real fire hazard. No joke.

Get out your old grater and one large bowl.

In the sink, fill a second large bowl with warm water, and plop in around 5 lb. of potatoes.

When you are certain they are nice and clean, start grating everything, including the skins. Make sure to turn your potatoes so that the skin gets grated and does not stick to the potato. Five pounds will fit nicely into a large bowl. Optional: dump the grated potatoes into a colander and let it drain in the sink to get the potato juice out.

Peel three or four onions and slice them in half. Dice into tiny pieces and place in a bowl.

Get out your favourite iron frying pan. Throw out your teflon...did you know that the fumes of your burning teflon pan can kill your canaries and even make you sick? Pour in the olive oil and watch the heat level (I recommend medium high) since this is a heavier oil than the generic crap they've been passing off as vegetable oil down at the supermarket.

In a separate bowl, take two handfuls of potato gratings and a small handful of onions. Break two eggs into the mess and mix. Cup your hand and throw in enough salt to taste - between a teaspoon and a tablespoon. Do not fear the salt shaker -- that Weight Watchers frozen entree you had today at lunch had at least three times as much salt. When it's all mixed together and a bit wet, take a tablespoon and drop the batter into the hot oil.

Brown both sides well until crispy. Be careful of the spatter. That is why I suggest draining the potatoes. It helps keep spatter to a minimum, but you cannot be careful enough.

Meantime you will take a large plate and cover it with two sheets of paper towels. After you take your latkes out of the pan, you will lay them down on the paper towels just to pat them dry a bit. Make sure to change the towels when they get too greasy and soggy. Serve as they come out. There's nothing worse than a lukewarm or cold latke.

Latkes are best enjoyed with sour cream or that delicious home-made apple sauce that you had prepared earlier in the day. Do I need to tell you how to do that, too? I'll save that for another time.

Tzim gezint! Bon appetite!

2007-12-05T12:22:00.001-05:00

Season's Greetings!

Thanks to Paysach Olson for sending this to me. It was too good not to share!

2007-12-03T00:17:00.000-05:00

“If you don’t take an interest in politics,
politics will take an interest in you."

Trumped by Traffic Jams

By Georgy Bovt

St. Petersburg Times

Issue #1328 (94), Friday, November 30, 2007

None of my friends knows what to do about the upcoming State Duma elections. Some think that it would be wrong to vote for United Russia since it has turned the campaign into a Soviet-style farce. Others understand that the ruling party’s platform is vague, but they believe that the policies of other parties are even worse. Almost all of my friends who previously voted for Yabloko or the Union of Right Forces are now disappointed by those parties’ leaders and consider them to be marginalized or outright clowns. Some want to vote for Vladimir Zhirinovsky’s Liberal Democratic Party, either because they are entertained by his scandalous statements or simply because they want to avoid voting for United Russia. Many die-hard anti-Communists are even planning to vote for the Communist Party as a protest vote against United Russia. Still others are planning to deface their ballots or tear them up.

Many people are sick of the elections, perhaps even nauseous. And these are not the people who are typically apolitical in other countries — the poorest and least educated segment of society. In Russia, political indifference is widespread and even fashionable among wealthy people as well as the so-called middle class.

During my call-in radio show, I often wonder whether it makes sense to talk with callers about the elections and politics in general. They find politics boring no matter how it is presented. I have reached the conclusion that they don’t want to hear anything at all except updates on traffic jams.

I think that the sociological phenomenon of Russia’s voting patterns is worth studying because it overturns many assumptions. For example, according to various surveys, about 60 percent of voters believe that the Duma elections will not be conducted fairly, but about the same percentage of people nevertheless plan to vote — despite knowing almost nothing about the platforms of the major parties. Voters don’t know what Putin’s Plan is, nor do they want to find out more about it. As expected, few people found the campaign’s televised political debates interesting.

Even though it has been 15 years since the collapse of the Soviet Union, it would seem that Russians don’t react negatively to modern-day versions of Soviet propaganda. Nobody gets upset when local authorities round people up to participate in pro-government meetings or when students — usually known for their love of freedom and independence — attend mass rallies to avoid getting bad grades from their professors.

It is as if the last 15 years have had no impact whatsoever on the country. The old Soviet mentality is alive and well, and people are returning to their former ways. They believe this is what constitutes the much longed-for “stability” that the authorities constantly claim has arrived. They refuse to see the connection between the fact that they spend hours stuck in horrendous traffic jams and their complete indifference to the political process and elections.

These traffic jams and the vast problems of everyday life all stem from the fact that Russia is badly managed and that governmental institutions do not function properly.

Yet, Russians are unable to acknowledge their own responsibility for the country’s poor governance — that governmental institutions are substandard because the people themselves allow them to be so bad. To make matters worse, many Russians take pride in their lack of interest in politics. Perhaps there is some truth to the much-quoted saying that every nation deserves the type of government that it has.

There is another expression that is pertinent to this issue: “If you don’t take an interest in politics, politics will take an interest in you.” It was true back then and it is true today.

Georgy Bovt is a political analyst and hosts a radio program on City FM.

2007-11-22T23:50:00.000-05:00

Finally...A Time For Celebration!

Pictures and video tells all!

Yona's bat mitzvah was a joyous occasion. Everyone had a great time. It was a very green affair, with local produce supplied by Abma Farm, and a small half-peck bag of apples on each table in lieu of flowers. One of our guests took the apples home, made applesauce for her father who was in hospital, and reported to us that he ate and enjoyed. Now, that's something you just cannot do with flowers!

We're trying to get the magnificent slideshow that was created by Marty up and running. I'll post again when it's ready to go.

Meantime, Marty is moving on in his life and congratulations are due to my very talented husband for an incredible decade at the American Committee for the Weizmann Institute of Science. I really don't know who else could have pulled off the feat that he managed, nor does anyone else know how he did it.

Check out this vid, produced by Walter Schlomann of Salt and Pepper Media:

The Good-Lord-Willing, there will be many more happy occasions to celebrate!

Love,
Lynda
xoxoxo

2007-10-17T12:27:00.001-04:00

I am proud to be a Dorky Nerd Queen. This is what my kids have been saying about me for years. So I took the test. No surprises here.

2007-10-16T14:20:00.000-04:00

The following event is before Yona's Bat Mitzvah weekend extravaganza, but I'm singing in this show and wanna see you. Come say hi and lemme hear your voice!
Lynda

You are invited to the

Second Annual All-Star
New York Yiddish Singalong

Starring:

Robert Abelson, Michael Alpert, Phyllis Berk, Joanne Borts, Caroline Chanin,
Adrienne Cooper, Ron Eliran, Michael Fox, Rebecca Garfein, Sarah Gordon,
The Jewish People’s Philharmonic Chorus, The New Yiddish Chorale,
Binyumen Schaechter, Reyna & Temma Schaechter ("Di Shekhter-tekhter"),
Basya Schechter, Elizabeth Schwartz, Lorin Sklamberg, Jeff Warschauer

Accompanied by an all-star Klezmer ensemble, including
Margot Leverett, Joey Weisenberg and Jake Shulman

Musical Director - Zalmen Mlotek
Emcee - Corey Breier
Producer - Moishe Rosenfeld

Thursday, October 25, 2007, 7:30 PM
at Congregation Rodeph Sholom
7 West 83rd Street, New York City

Come sing your heart out - in Mame-loshn!

General admission:
$18 Advance Purchase; $20 Day of the Event.
VIP seating (with a post-concert reception):
$50 Advance Purchase; $60 Day of the Event.
Group discounts - (10 or more purchased in advance) - 15%

For tickets and information:
www.oyhoo.com
212-608-0555 or 212-683-7816

2007-10-01T22:26:00.000-04:00

Dear Friends, I'm posting some news from Clay Eals. He interviewed me about my musical mentor, the late, legendary Steve Goodman. Here's a bulletin he sent out which is worth being seen by all you nice people, too. You can help support the legacy of Steve's music by purchasing Clay's book. Details below.

Love,
Lynda
xoxoxo

Steve Goodman:
Facing the Music

by Clay Eals

(To contact me, please don't hit "reply" to this message. Instead, use this link: <clay@clayeals.com>. If you hit "reply," your message will go to my webmaster, not me.)

Gang:Check out several exciting new developments this fall relating to my Steve Goodman biography:"Facing the Music" reaches YouTubeTraveling banjoist and singer/songwriter Rik Palieri, based in Burlington, Vermont, interviewed me for 30 minutes about "Steve Goodman: Facing the Music" on Aug. 23 for Lake Champlain Access Television. Courtesy of producer (and singer/songwriter) Rebecca Padula, the interview is now easily accessible worldwide at YouTube.com. For easy instructions on how to see the interview, visit my site at <http://www.clayeals.com/>, click on the reviews tab and scroll down. Rik did a great job with the interview, and I'm grateful to him and Rebecca for giving it such prominence.

XM Satellite Radio features Goodman tribute

Four times this month, XM Satellite Radio subscribers will be able to hear the tracks on the tribute CD that accompanies "Steve Goodman: Facing the Music." The 90-minute program, including track intros that I recorded Aug. 15 at XM in Washington, D.C., will air (all times Eastern) at 3 p.m. Tuesday, Oct. 16; 3 a.m. and 9 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 20; and 9 a.m. Monday, Oct. 22. For easy instructions on how to subscribe at a special "friends and family" discount, visit my site at <http://www.clayeals.com/> and click on the schedule tab.

Thanks to Mary Sue Twohy at XM for the visibility (XM's The Village has 1 million subscribers), and to Buddy Mondlock and Mike Lindauer, for the initial suggestion."Go, Cubs, Go" into the post-seasonThe Chicago Cubs have won the National League's Central Division and soon will play in the NL Division Series. If they win that series, they will advance to the League Championship Series. If they win that, they will advance to the World Series, something that has not occurred -- as Steve Goodman's "A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request" reminds us -- since 1945. Countless Cubs fans are riding high on Goodman's "Go, Cubs, Go," which was played at the close of every Cubs victory at Wrigley Field this season.

To read a great Chicago Tribune column about the song by Eric Zorn, visit my site at <http://www.clayeals.com/> and click on the reviews tab.Other great press about the Goodman bioEddie Huffman did a long and insightful essay on the book, focusing on Goodman's "Banana Republics," in the St. Croix Source. SingOut! and Harp magazines and the online Green Man Review also have weighed in. And the two-week online conversation about the book on The WELL last month went great.

To see all of these pieces, including The WELL transcript, visit my site at <http://www.clayeals.com/> and click on the reviews tab.Back to Chicago in November!Lake Forest College, which Steve Goodman attended in 1967-68, is hosting me for a program of reading and music at 7 p.m. Monday, Nov. 19, Thanksgiving week. The event will be held in the LFC Chapel, north of Chicago. Musicians will include Fast & Cheap (a faculty band), Harry Waller, Jim Polaski and Norm Siegel. LFC professor Rand Smith also has invited me to speak that afternoon in his class, "Roots Music in American Society."I also look forward to a reading/music event on Wednesday, Oct. 10, at Village Books in Bellingham, Washington, and to radio interviews on WELY, Ely Minnesota, and WUSB, Stony Brook, New York.

For details, visit my site at <http://www.clayeals.com/> and click on the schedule tab.Many thanks once again to everyone who is helping to get the Steve Goodman biography into readers' hands, including my conscientious webmaster, Valerie Magee, and her son, Doug.

Clay Eals1728 California Ave. S.W. #301Seattle, WA 98116-1958(206) 935-7515 (home)(206) 484-8008 (cell)ceals@comcast.net http://www.clayeals.com/

2007-09-20T13:15:00.000-04:00

A remote shiva visit:

More about our beloved Dad, Father in Law

and Zaidy

We visited Dad just before the kids went off to camp. It was a great time, and he was so lively and beautiful to be with. Here's one snippet of Dad singing "Kinder Yor'n" and you can find the rest of the snippets at http://www.youtube.com/guitargirl4scrabble.

2007-09-17T22:15:00.000-04:00

Mir and Yon listening to their Zaidy, summer, 2006

2007-09-16T00:34:00.000-04:00

My dad's updated funeral information

The funeral of Abraham Moshe Szedlecki, son of Daniel Szedlecki
Feb. 14 1914 - Sept. 15 2007

DATE Sunday, Sept. 16
TIME 1 p.m.
PLACE Beth Radom Section, Mount Sinai cemetery (Wilson Avenue just east of Keele Street)

The graveside funeral will be officiated by Rabbi Steven Schoenfeld of Beth Radom synagogue, which was our family's shul since my parents first came to Canada in 1953.

Immediately following the funeral, shiva will be held at Terrace Gardens (Bathurst Street, immediately south of the 401), which is where Dad lived out his final year. Mincha/maariv will be conducted at 7.30.

We will be sitting shiva at our home in New Jersey beginning Monday and concluding the following Friday morning. The shiva house in NJ will be open from 2 pm and we will have a mincha/maariv minyan at the house.

2007-09-15T06:55:00.000-04:00

Abraham Szedlecki, z"l
Feb. 14, 1914 - Sept. 15, 2007

My father, Abraham Szedlecki, died peacefully today -- Saturday, Sept. 15, at 3.05 a.m. - of complications due to pneumonia. He was 93 years old. We are in the midst of funeral arrangements and are trying to book an 11 a.m. graveside funeral this Sunday, Sept. 16, at the Beth Radom section of the Mount Sinai cemetery on Wilson Avenue just east of Keele St. The funeral home is Steeles Memorial Chapel, and details will be hopefully be posted late Saturday night at www.steelesmemorialchapel.com.

Sincerely,
Lynda Kraar

2007-08-24T07:11:00.000-04:00

Love in the Time of Christiane Amanpour

After a thankfully uneventful flight home to the metro NYC area from Tel Aviv, I am writing. I might as well -- I've been up since 4 a.m. and am now updated on all the football scores from Europe and the Middle East.

Of course, I'm still kvelling over this...

...but I have been advised by those who truly love me and care about me that it's best to get over it, move on and start concentrating on things like Yona's bat mitzva, our new business and office space, the start of a new school year and our immense social and family obligations.

But before I get too distracted by being focused, here's a word or two about what else you might have missed if you were not in Israel this summer, or if, like me, you were napping on the plane.

I missed what was apparently the jihad that Christiane Amanpour has unleashed via her CNN series on religion. It would be surprising if any level-headed Moslem or Jew were grateful that at least their side was fairly depicted in a most balanced way. Thankfully there was no plain evidence in view of anything that had been created for the CNN screen.

Has Beckham made an impact, Stateside? Can anyone tell me? I'm really in the dark on this one.

Israel is insanely loyal to its football, as evidenced by a public service commercial on TV, which shows a fervent couch potato ignoring the whole family and shooshing everyone who strays in front of his treasured team on the little screen. Finally, it's his wife who pays the ultimate price when he swats her to the floor for tresspassing on his match, in front of all his kids. "If you have a problem, get help," the ad cautions. The drama surrounding players, coaches, leagues and violent donnybrooks in the stands is fueled further by the occasional outburst of anti-semitism in the stands of other countries between the Israeli fans and the other team loyalists. In other words, we Jews have attained our equality, at least in the football arena.

I confess -- I am a Maccabi Tel Aviv fan. My dream match would be:

Maccabi Tel Aviv v. Widzew Lodz.

And since I know that a Teaneck v. Toronto game is not likely anytime soon, that would be the closest thing to my two alter egos duking it out on the field.

All this random and very luxuriant rumination was made possible thanks to my eight-hour nap on the plane. And that was made possible thanks to the fabulous company of my friend Marissa James in Jerusalem. She is in Jerusalem for a year on a cantorial study program at the Jewish Theological Seminary. We sang together in the Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus this past June. I could rave about her forever, but while I was peacefully snoozing at 38,000 feet, Marissa blogged about our day together. I could not say it any better. So here's her entry.

http://novemberling.com/blog1/

Back to laundry and unpacking..................

Lynda
xoxoxo

2007-08-06T16:39:00.000-04:00

UPDATE!!

Bragging rights:
I did it! I won first place in the Tel Aviv Open Scrabble tournament!

Check out the tourney details here or here, if you prefer: http://www.scrabble.org.il/tournaments.htm. Tee hee!

Love,

Lynda

2007-07-16T16:46:00.001-04:00

I love you, Yona, but......

The Camp Shalom Visitors Day was more like the Camp Massad Reunion Day for us old farts! Thanks for a great day, honey. It was really great to see you before our big trip abroad. I miss you and love you. And yes, people with two digits in their age CAN have a facebook!

xoxoxox
mum-zed and the MartMan

2007-06-28T17:46:00.001-04:00

2007-06-11T18:54:00.000-04:00

TWO SHOWS SOLD OUT!
A Sheinem Dank, New York City!

What a spectacular day for singers and audience alike!

Binyumen Schaechter is the kind of musical director with whom any serious musician would relish an opportunity to work. It is my pleasure and privilege to be part of this magnificent chorus.

We not only sing these songs - we truly experience them. Based on the reception we got, I think we get our point across. It is a humbling experience to be standing side by side with such splendid, talented singers. May we go mi'chayl l'chayl together! Ooooh-mayn!

Highlight personal moment: We are posing for a group shot which will be taken on the count of three. Someone from our group calls out with a heavy Litvak accent, "Eints, Tzvei, Drei! (one, two three!)" and my darling daughter Miriam the Poylisher instantly shakes her head from side to side and retorts, "Aynts, Tzvay, Dray!" Big shout out to mo' peeps from Lodz!

Big thank you to those of you who helped make this concert such a success. And if you could not make it, I would have loved for you to be there, so I'm providing for you a highlight, "Hey Tzigalekh," by Mordecai Gebirtig (1877-1942), featuring a breath-taking solo by soprano Judith Bro. More clips to come on YouTube.

xoxoxo
moi

2007-06-09T18:37:00.000-04:00

Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus sings Songs of Mark Warshawsky and Mordecai Gebirtig

Binyumen Schaechter, Conductor

NEW YORK CITY -- I am thrilled to have the great honour of participating in a presentation of choral arrangements of famous and lesser-known songs by the great Yiddish songwriters Mark Warshawsky and Mordecai Gebirtig. This is a Yiddish program with English translations.

Here is a picture of Mordecai Gebirtig. I could not find a pic of Mark Warshawsky (1840-1907). But I am providing you links to info about both composers.

When: Sunday, June 10th, for two shows: 2:00; and 4:30
Where: Hebrew Union College, 1 West 4th St. (b/w. Broadway & Mercer St.), New York, NY
Adults: $15; Seniors (65 and up) and students,
with ID: $10

PHOTO ID required, all adults age 18

For more information: http://www.thejppc.org/

This is probably the best online Yiddish radio station I've ever heard.

I believe our show is sold out by now, but if you make it down to the venue, please come by and say hi!

2007-06-03T18:39:00.000-04:00

Peerie Willie Johnson: The Guitar World Loses a Master

(Pictured, from left: Tom Anderson, fiddle, and Peerie Willie Johnson)

Yesterday I received an email from a banjo player in the Shetland Isles named Gary Peterson who informed me that "Peerie" ("little") Willie Johnson had passed away at the ripe age of 86. I did not know Gary; nor had I seen wee Willie in many a year, but I had listed him high up as one of my influences on myspace and that is how Gary found me to tell me the news.

I wrote back to Gary [slightly edited]:

I am deeply saddened to hear of Willie's passing. Was he ever a huge influence on my guitar playing and also as a very decent human being.

When I was a 17 year old pip at the Mariposa Folk Festival in my hometown of Toronto, back in the late 1970s, it was Willie who tolerated me and actually welcomed me sitting at the hem of his garment, listening to him and absorbing everything I saw.

He taught me the concept of passing and melodic chords. He showed me some neat inside chords and I clearly remember him teaching me the very cool passing chords that I use on songs like Lady Be Good: "Put your fingers here on this fret...mute that string with the inside of your hand...now run that chord down four frets, strumming each as you go...you can thumb over if it's easier..." and so on. We talked about Les Paul and Django Reinhardt. Willie was one of the first grown ups (if not THE only grown up at the time!) to take my passion for the guitar seriously.

I spent three delicious days with him, hanging around and watching, watching, watching. I never heard on recordings what I heard him play in our precious moments together and I will treasure that memory forever.

Today I find myself with teenage guitar students and I only hope that they feel I take them as seriously as Willie took me.

Having recounted for you my personal memoir of Willie, I urge you to read the obituary and learn something wonderful and life affirming about this wee giant; about how to lighten up, kick back and enjoy what precious time we have here on earth. And also the life-altering impact that your words and deeds might have on a young person many years hence.

xooxox
Lynda

__________________________________________

Peerie Willie Johnson
Influential folk guitarist of Shetland

Sunday Independent
Published: 29 May 2007
William Henry Johnson, guitarist: born 10 December 1920; married 1953 Ethel Johnson (deceased); died Lerwick, Shetland 22 May 2007.

Peerie Willie Johnson was a self-taught master guitarist, revered for his skill as an accompanist and as an influence on generations of musicians in his native Shetland and beyond. He was known for his unique "dum chuck" rhythmic playing style, which fused elements of jazz and western swing with Shetland's traditional folk idiom. In 2005 the Shetland Arts Trust celebrated his achievement with the inauguration of the "Peerie Willie Guitar Festival".

Nicknamed "Peerie" (Shetland dialect for "small") because of his height, Willie Johnson grew up on the remote, windswept island of Yell, one of the most northerly and sparsely populated of the Shetland islands. During a childhood illness that kept him housebound for months, he developed a love of jazz and western swing while listening to American forces short-wave radio. Fascinated by the complex chords of the jazz guitarist Eddie Lang, he began to figure them out on a ukulele that his mother had bought him. When the limitations of the instrument later became apparent, he progressed to guitar, joining his first local band at the age of 14.

In 1936 - by which time he had also fallen under the influence of the music of Django Rheinhardt - a chance encounter in a music shop led to him joining the Islesburgh Dance Band, led by the fiddler Dr Tom Anderson, whom he would accompany on and off throughout much of the latter's life. He and Anderson also formed another group, in 1938, called the New Players Dance Band with the piano/organ player Billy Kaye, but they disbanded when Kaye and Johnson were called up in 1940.

While stationed in Sullom Voe on mainland Shetland, Johnson played with an RAF band, thus meeting many British jazz musicians. After the Second World War, he moved to London and briefly made a living playing with a number of his wartime contacts, though he was hampered by his inability to read music. He soon returned to Shetland, settling in Lerwick and marrying Ethel Johnson (no relation) in 1953.

He lived off odd jobs and the income his true vocation brought him on occasional tours with other musicians. His collaborations with Anderson resumed, and in 1958 he travelled to London with the Shetland fiddler Willie Hunter for a performance at the Royal Festival Hall. That same trip, he and Hunter stunned the staff at Abbey Road Studios by recording both sides of a joint LP (never released) for the BBC in a morning's work, polishing off a bottle of whisky between them in the process. "The second half of the album is much better than the first," Johnson observed.

Hunter and Johnson also performed regularly together at the Edinburgh Festival between 1973 and 1980. A modest man who underestimated his own abilities, Johnson never made a solo album, recording only as an accompanist to others, such as Anderson, the pianist Violet Tulloch and the fiddler Aly Bain, who he joined on tour with the Boys of the Lough in the US in 1978/9.

Johnson's distinctive playing can be heard on Scottish Violin Music (1963), Shetland Folk Fiddling Vol 2 (1978), Cathal McConnell's 1978 solo début On Lough Erne's Shore, and Aly Bain's First Album (1984), which contains Johnson' best known piece, an interpretation of the tune "Margaret's Waltz". Johnson also appeared on Silver Bow - Fiddle Music of Shetland (1995).

In 1988, Aly Bain began hosting Down Home, a Channel 4 series on which Johnson regularly featured. Johnson and Hunter later made several appearances on Norwegian television and radio.

Johnson's playing style is widely credited with influencing not just his contemporaries, but also a number of younger musicians including the Wrigley Sisters, from Orkney, and the jazz guitarist Martin Taylor. In 2005, Taylor travelled to Shetland to make a BBC radio documentary about Johnson. He recalls him thus:

I don't think I've ever met another musician who was so full of music. It's almost as if he was more than a musician. Every atom in his body was music, and his enthusiasm was quite amazing. If he was in the Lounge [his local bar] and someone started to play, he just picked up whatever instrument was there, whatever just came to hand, he was just so natural.

Jon Lusk

2007-05-29T12:31:00.000-04:00

Poetic Notion Chorus receives the esteemed Soul Patrol Award!

2007-05-24T12:22:00.000-04:00

Transitioning!!

I have a few interesting gigs coming down the pike and if you visit www.myspace.com/guitargirl4scrabble you can read all about them. In order to prepare you, my gentle visitors, I offer you this clip from my most favourite, deffest guy, Socalled. Enjoy, and get in the groove.

Love,
Lynda
xoxoxoxo

2007-05-22T11:14:00.000-04:00

By popular demand for those outside the GTA,
here's the pic from the Toronto Star that ran
with Greg Quill's fabulous Mother's Day article.
WE LOVE YOU, GREG AND THE TORONTO STAR!

Caption: Yummy mummies, from left: Joy Rose, hostess Erica Ehm, organizer Lynda Kraar and B-Girl Cynthia Ross.

2007-05-15T23:42:00.000-04:00

THANK YOU TORONTO!!

The Kraars are back in NJ after an exhilarating weekend in Toronto. Mamapalooza Toronto 2007 was a stunning array of Mom talent. Although everyone was a highlight, the crowd particularly went crazy for veteran punkers and soul survivors Zr04 and the B Girls, who dominated the Toronto punk scene in the 1970s. How truly exciting to have them grace our stage, with their kids in tow. What an inspiration to the younger moms, such as Sisters3, who now know there is life after 30.

Here are a few pics from our exciting, landmark event at Healey's. We'll be posting more pics in a bit. For now, enjoy!