Cantor Lawrence Avery in Concert

The 1970s seems so long ago. Jimmy Carter was President, my one-bedroom on W. 69th rented for $450, and the Upper West Side was horrified when Häagen Dazs opened on Columbus Ave, charging one dollar (!) for a cone. 

FM radio was still something you could listen to for long stretches, and Sony's new Walkman made it possible to enjoy Paul Simon's latest as you walked past his co-op near Central Park. Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion was (then) only a block away from Paul Simon's digs, but half-a-century removed in time. It was another world. And, like the brownstones on W. 68th, HUC-JIR had a charm of its own (as you can see, above.)

One of the jewels in HUC's crown was Cantor Lawrence Avery, z'l. After his recent passing (read my memorial tribute) I combed through my cassette tape collection and found a treasure trove of audio memorabilia. No, much more than memorabilia: amazing, incredible music that sounds as vital today as it did four decades ago.




HUC-JIR had a Sunday afternoon concert series featuring students and faculty in song. Here are Cantor Avery's performances from two of those concerts during the 70s. I recorded them myself, using simple equipment that I no longer own. Complete track info can be found on Soundcloud. While Avery's "Israel" set is particularly beautiful, the "Kwartin Memorial" pieces are especially touching. Cantor Paul Kwartin had long been a fixture on the New York scene, and he sang together with Cantors Avery and Ramon Gilbert in a traveling concert series called Cantica Hebraica. In tribute to their friend, Avery and Gilbert sang their arrangement of "V'af Al Pi Chein" with Paul's voice part missing. Near the end of the set is this gem, a rarely heard piece by Dmitri Shostakovich (Opus 79 No. 2), all the rarer because it was written for soprano and alto!

Israel in Song, April 13, 1975
Cantor Lawrence Avery, accompanied by David Schiff



The Cantor Paul Kwartin Memorial Concert, May 13, 1979
Cantor Lawrence Avery, accompanied by Joyce Rosenzweig, with guest Cantors Sarah Sager and Ramon Gilbert

In Memoriam: Cantor Lawrence Avery, z"l

In Jewish life, teachers are among those upon whom we bestow great honor. Many of our teachers are remembered with affection for the time they spent with us. But how many of them had a truly lasting impact on our lives?

Cantor Lawrence Avery, z"l, died last week at the age of 88. From 1974 to 1980 Cantor Avery was my teacher and my mentor at HUC-JIR (Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion) in New York City. But he was so much more than that — a spiritual advisor, vocal coach, role model, confidant, and friend.

More than any of my teachers he was the one who made me into a cantor. That was no sure thing in 1974, when I began my cantorial studies after two bumpy years at Clark University. I had no serious musical training up to then. I played guitar by ear, and never had a voice lesson. Though I was a well-regarded Jewish camp song-leader and had written some Hebrew songs (including "Shalom Rav"), the school was taking a gamble in accepting me.

From our very first class with him, I could see that Cantor Avery was someone who drew you in, with eyes that sparkled and the sweetest voice that God ever created. It wasn't just that he had so much to teach and I had so much to learn.  He was like a master magician with a secret knowledge to impart.  And only by paying close attention could you hope to learn it. 

Predicting that our relationship would blossom was hardly a sure thing. In some ways we were opposites. While he was a generation older, short, and impeccably dressed, I was twenty-ish, tall and scruffy. Musically, and Jewishly, we lived in different worlds. Me, the musical world of Bob Dylan and the Beatles; him, the world of great cantors and opera singers. He grew up Orthodox in Brooklyn and was the cantor of a large conservative synagogue in New Rochelle, NY while I, on the other hand, was still (at the time) eating pasta with clam sauce, and sausage pizza, with no desire to live a strictly observant Jewish life.

In spite of those differences each of us saw something intriguing in the other. I saw him as a cantor's cantor, a teacher with an incredible wealth of knowledge.  And that voice of his… Because his tenor voice was light and lyrical rather than powerful, he had to rely on his brains - his phrasing and interpretation - to dazzle you, which he did, always. He was a consummate vocal artist, driven to excellence. Having developed his vocal gifts to their fullest potential, he could communicate like no other cantor I have known.

Perhaps he saw in me the capacity to grow and learn under his tutelage. I think he admired my skill as a song-leader and my ability to inspire young people with music. I know he valued my songwriting - for he was himself a writer of lovely melodies in the style of Israeli composers like Naomi Shemer (songs he played beautifully on the piano!) - and he always encouraged my creative output. On one occasion he praised a blessing I had composed, and created a piano arrangement for it. He would make tapes to help me learn the "nusach," the chanted phrases that constitute the musical DNA of the cantor's art.  And he brought me into his most beloved musical world by patiently nurturing in me a love of opera.

In his late forties, Avery (his birth name was Avery Cohen, a name he changed because Lawrence Avery "sounded more like a tenor") was one of the younger cantors teaching at the school. Most of the others were "old-school" and had no interest in guitars, rock services, or liturgical experimentation. As chair of the faculty a few years later, he would lead the discussion following our weekly Practicum (a mock service that each student had to perform). By discussion I mean "critique," and sometimes the comments could be quite vicious. Only the very best students emerged unscathed, and even the best-of-the-best sometimes had to have their bubbles burst and "brought back down to earth." I was never in such lofty company. On two such occasions, after I was attacked by certain members of the faculty, Cantor Avery rose to my defense, for which I will always be profoundly grateful.

When I saw him several years after graduation, I told him that, during the first year in my first job, not a working day went by when I didn't draw upon the wellspring of knowledge he gave me.  His voice will continue to resonate in my ears for many, many years to come. 

Listen to the voice of Cantor Lawrence Avery:

Read more about Cantor Lawrence Avery:

Here is an article from 1992 in the NY Times by Ari Goldman

CREDITS
PHOTOS: Top photo: thanks to Adina Avery-Grossman. Lower photo: teaching at HUC-JIR on West 68 St, (c. 1974) from Keeping Posted magazine Vol XXXIV No. 3 (from the left, the students pictured are Donald Croll and Elias Roochvarg). Recordings are from live concert LPs originally produced by the American Conference of Cantors.

Debbie Friedman's Cantor Controversy, 1980

In my JUF News article on the passing of Debbie Friedman, z"l, I quoted from her letter to Reform Judaism magazine (above) in reaction to a November 1980 piece by Rabbi Jeffrey Salkin (below) on the paradigm shift toward more musical participation that was beginning to take hold in Reform synagogues in the late 1970s.

I don't believe that cantors were opposed to participation, per se. But they were very concerned about the movement away from a more sophisticated composed liturgical-music style toward the burgeoning (if admittedly simpler) folk/pop style. The trend had begun with songs such as Oseh Shalom from the Israeli Chassidic Music Festival beginning in 1968, but found its American voice in the music of Debbie Friedman.

Being a cantorial student at Hebrew Union College at the time, I tried to stay on the sidelines of this debate. As a camp song-leader and creator of some "new trend" music of my own, it may have been obvious which side I was on, but it was also important for me to graduate, and that meant being sympathetic to both sides of the argument (which I was, by the way; I knew that I was young and still had a lot to learn.) So, I'm not suggesting that all cantors were allied against what Debbie represented. And the title of this post is not to make light of what happened. But I do believe that the musical and liturgical issues raised during the 1980s forced cantors and rabbis (and their congregations) to reassess their worship and music, and to ask difficult questions about the nature of communal and individual prayer in liberal synagogues.

Let's not forget that cantors have been at the center of heated debate regarding the music of worship for hundreds of years. Debbie's letter, along with the two others that accompanied it, represented the first salvos of a new chapter in a very old embroglio. (The original article that inspired her reaction appears below.)

Obviously there is much more to say on this topic, and I hope to do just that before too long.

Click (or double-click) on each page to enlarge it.

A Guitar Workshop for Cantors

When I came to the School of Sacred Music (of Hebrew Union College) in 1974 and began to conduct services as a student-cantor I used a guitar to accompany myself. How else was I going to do it? Since joining NFTY in 1968 I had led dozens, maybe even hundreds of services, always with guitar. It was like a part of my body - I knew no other way. Thanks to my wonderful teachers, in a very short time I received the training I would need to be able to daven with or without an instrument, and over the years I have become comfortable in a wide variety of synagogue settings. But, given, a choice, I would rather accompany myself on guitar than sing a cappella or with a keyboard accompanist. It just feels right. What's not to like about setting your own key, tempo, rhythm, and dynamics, and being able to change it on the fly!!?? I can sing a prayer over-and-over, build the ruach to a crescendo, or I can pull back to a whisper, and the guitar follows wherever I go every time. (I can also segue from one melody to another without having to make faces or wave my arms to catch the eye of an accompanist.)

How many synagogues in 1974 had guitar accompaniment every Shabbat? Probably very few. But today, "Do you play guitar?" is one of the first questions asked of applicants in cantorial searches. As with any instrument, having the ability to play is one thing, but playing with style and sensitivity is another. At Hebrew College in Newton, MA, I work with cantorial and rabbinic students on repertoire for guitar, helping them develop a technique that will be spiritual, engaging, and tasteful. On June 15 & 16, 2010 the School of Jewish Music at Hebrew College will sponsor the first Guitar Workshop dedicated to music for synagogue worship and celebration, special occasions and sacred moments such as hospital visits and healing rituals. Cantors, rabbis, educators, music leaders and students are invited to take part. We will play, pray, sing, listen, play some more, share, learn...and eat. All the information you need is here.