Above: Samuel Pisar
~ Author: Oberon
Wednesday January 29th, 2025 – Carnegie Hall marked the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz with a performance of Leonard Bernstein’s Symphony No. 3, “Kaddish.” A setting of ‘A Dialogue with God’ by the late Samuel Pisar – who had himself been a survivor of Auschwitz – was spoken tonight by Pisar’s wife, Judith Pisar, and their daughter Leah Pisar, with James Conlon leading the Orchestra of St. Luke’s. The Bard Festival Chorus, directed by James Bagwell, and the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, led by Dianne Berkun Menaker, made the choral passages an integral part of the evening’s performance.
The reviews were quite harsh when the Boston Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Charles Munch, premiered this symphony on January 10, 1964; it is dedicated to the memory of President John F. Kennedy, who had been assassinated on November 22, 1963.
Tonight was my first time hearing this work. In preparation, I read some articles and reviews of the piece; these seemed mostly to center on the narrative rather than on the musical setting. My idea was to focus on the music and let the narration flow, but that proved impossible: such is the power of Mr. Pisar’s writing.
Former Secretary of State Antony Blinken, stepson of Samuel Pisar, made an eloquent introductory speech in which he drew a connection between the substance of Bernstein’s Kaddish and the current situation here in the USA. This of course was surely weighing on the minds of most everyone in the audience.
Judith and Leah Pisar had taken their places next to the podium, and Maestro Conlon entered to a warm greeting. Most of my experiences with Mr. Conlon’s conducting have been at the Metropolitan Opera, where he debuted in 1976 and went on to preside over nearly 300 performances, the latest having been Shostakovich’s LADY MACBETH OF MTSENSK, more than ten years ago. I’d love to see him on the Met podium again.
Low humming from the chorus opens the Kaddish, and then Judith Pisar, a petite woman, began to speak. Her voice is deep and profound as she talks of the Age of Anxiety, which seems to be having its second dawning. Leah Pisar’s speaking voice has a sense of passion and urgency which contrasted with Mme. Pisar’s more solemn tones.
A high violin tone is sustained by concertmaster Krista Bennion Feeney until the xylophone sounds an alarm. A melancholy theme of unison celli turns anxious as the basses join. Following a resounding crash, the music gets wild and fast, with the crack of a horsewhip. The chorus’s rhythmic clapping gets a bit jazzy; their song is accented by the xylophone, and it moves to a big finish.
Over quiet percussion and choral humming, Judith Pisar speaks long…and movingly; the essence of the work now becomes evident: where was god when these horrible things were happening to his people? What wrongs had they committed to merit such torment and anguish? Was god angry or simply indifferent?
As questions are raised – “How did the Holocaust, the genocides, and the ethnic cleansings become acceptable?” – and as the spoken words become more haunting and horrifying, the actual music tends to feel less engrossing.
But then, soprano Diana Newman’s high, sweet voice floats over an accompanying harp: clear and reassuring. The female choristers join, and the music turns grand, only to fade with the xylophone sounding. Ms. Newman resumes, supported by high, spun-out sounds of the violins. Angelic voices hum, whilst scurrying music underscores Leah Pisar’s speaking of “incendiary demagogues”.
The music turns delicate; Mme. Pisar speaks until a crescendo obliterates her voice; her daughter speaks of “chaos on Earth”. Aching celli and basses play deep and rich; the music swells with both choruses joining. Stabbing accents turn into an oddly merry passage for clarinet, flute, and bassoon. The Youth Chorus sings; the spoken description of “the warm embrace of democracy” seems ironic now.
A postlude of strings and brass becomes a lament, with muted trumpet and oboe. The music hesitates; Leah Pisar speaks again, with Ms. Feeney’s violin as solo accompaniment. Now Mme. Pisar issues a plea for peace as horn and trumpet sound. There is a fast and jazzy chorus, which Ms. Newman joins. The finale feels a bit extended, but then a dramatic pause leads to a final Amen.
Throughout the work, the eternal question hovers overall: why does god allow these things to happen? And why did he abandon the faithful in their hour of direst need? Another such test seems to loom before us now. Perhaps there are no gods, and we’re simply going to have to make it on our own.
~ Oberon
Oberon's Glade 