IS THIS JEWISH MUSIC I HEAR?

I had a Kodak moment recently (or do we now call it an iPhone moment?). I was sitting at the piano in my synagogue playing the Shabbat music as the members of the congregation joined in song. I watched their faces as they sang the familiar tunes that many of them have been singing since they were children. They were anything but timid as they sang out confidently while their bodies swayed to the rhythm of the music. Though there were many unfamiliar faces, in a very real sense, they were all familiar. They were my San Antonio Jewish family. I felt like a proud grandmother who was kvelling as she watched her family singing together with abandon. I thought of my dad who made sure I learned how to play the piano even when it wasn’t easy to pay the teacher for my weekly lessons. I remembered his words to me as we drove to my first lesson. “You are going to take lessons from the time you are eight until you are sixteen, so don’t bring it up again.” It was the ‘50’s, and there was no further discussion. I can’t say that I was passionate about learning to play, but as the years rolled on, most of my friends had dropped out, and I became the lone musician at parties who could sit down at the piano and actually play songs that people could sing. My teacher was a Juiliard graduate but he was also the musical director for the Ernie Kovacs Show, so I learned how to play and arrange pop music in addition to the traditional classical repertoire. What really sealed the deal for me was when the head of a local ballet studio offered me a job to play the piano at her studio at $3 an hour. This was at a time when I earned $.50 an hour for babysitting! The summer before leaving for college, I worked at an NBC affiliate radio station as a receptionist, and because the property was quite far from my home, I brought my lunch to work. After I ate, I often I would head for the sound studio that housed a beautiful grand piano and would play until lunch break was over. One day, the lead musician in the Dave Edwards Trio, stood at the door as I was playing a jazz tune that my teacher was helping me arrange. On the spot he offered me a job to play on the radio with his trio five nights a week from midnight until 3 am. Who could believe it? At 17 I was going to be a professional musician on the radio! When I rushed home to tell my dad of this great honor, he gently reminded me that I needed to stay on course and begin college as I’d planned. He assured me I would have many opportunities in my life to play professionally, but the one thing he insisted on was my getting a college degree. I would be the first in my family to graduate from college. Though that moment happened over fifty years ago, I still remember it clearly. And, of course, he was right. Thanks to my dad’s insistence that I become a pianist, I have played the piano at various venues over the years. Interestingly, I have played mostly at houses of worship. Whether it was for the High Holy Days or as the main musician for one of my musicals that were performed at our local Reform temple, I have played everything from my own original music to the traditional liturgy as well as jazz standards with various musicians. The ironic thing is that neither of my parents belonged to a synagogue or was involved at all in the Jewish community. Though I knew I was Jewish, I learned nothing about Judaism or the life cycle events as I grew up. We celebrated no holidays other than Christmas as my dad owned a men’s wear store, and our livelihood revolved around the business generated by Christmas shoppers. To stimulate my desire to be a more creative musician, my dad would take me to Manhattan several times a year to listen to top jazz musicians. I am sure he had no idea that one day I would be using the skills I learned to write songs for Jewish –themed musicals. But I know my dad would be thrilled to be in the congregation if I was playing the piano on a Shabbat evening. I can picture him smiling at me and whispering, “Is this Jewish music I hear? It sounds fabulous.”