A Very Carlebach Weekend

Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach always said that he did not want to be eulogized after he would pass away. It is doubtful, though, that he could have imagined the lively atmosphere that would surround his yahrtzeit only a few years after he died. A celebration of spirituality, the affair was moving and uplifting and, one hopes, was "the way Shlomo would have liked it."

The remembrance of Shlomo and his music began on Wednesday night, the evening of the actual yahrtzeit, as a spontaneous gathering of students materialized around midnight in the Morg Lounge. Students sang tunes and told Shlomo stories in the darkened lounge, as others played guitars, harmonica, recorder and maracas in an impromptu jam session. One student lit a candle, as the crowd swelled to more than fifty students. The singing and rejoicing in memory of a musical Jew went on past three in the morning.

Yeshiva University was party central for the weekend festivities, drawing 330 students from colleges near and far to memorialize Reb Shlomo throughout a special shabbat, which featured the music and chazanut of Chaim Dovid, the Carlebach chassid and singer from Israel. The attendance broke records for a non-orientation shabbaton, and brought some unexpected constraints upon the Rubin Shul, which was packed to a fire-hazard-pushing brim. However, no one seemed to mind, as the dense gathering added to the intimate atmosphere of an experience that was positively stratospheric. Davening in the Carlebach nusach for kabbalat shabbat, Chaim Dovid got the minyan energized quickly with some familiar niggunim and a whole lot of dancing. Although some smiled apprehensively as they joined the dancing masses, most were quickly absorbed into the music and atmosphere surrounding them, and the circle eventually grew beyond the extent of the shul. Even many of the JSS Minyan regulars, who normally are anxious to be the first to be admitted to the cafeteria, admitted that the change was refreshing. Naftali Nadel, SSSB '00, noticed that "it was good to see that you could mix being able to be mispallel…with happiness." David Keesey, YC '00, agreed. "It was a very spiritually uplifting shabbos…something you very often don't get at YU." Although some were miffed that davening went so long, most agreed that the event was a nice change of pace.

After the meal, Chaim Dovid spoke at a tish, along with Rabbis Goldvicht, Simon, and Reichman. Chaim Dovid spoke softly, relating the experiences that led to a chance encounter with Reb Shlomo Carlebach at a Buddhist monastery. Chaim Dovid delved deeper into the importance of Reb Shlomo's music and its spirituality, and through the latter's music and personal influence, he gradually was able to evolve into the grizzly-bearded Chassid he is today. Other rabbeim added to Chaim Dovid's words, expanding on the significance music brings to religious spirituality.

Saturday night brought a chance to sample Chaim Dovid's own brand of soul music, in a melava malka concert sponsored by the Office of Student Services. The setting provided a relaxed atmosphere for students and faculty to get reacquainted with some Carlebach favorites. Students conceded that they "had just heard about [Chaim Dovid] for the first time when he came to YU," but afterwards were "quite impressed" with his music. Other students proclaimed, "Chaim Dovid rocks!" One student musician was impressed because he'd "never seen a frum Jew hold his guitar so low." Many of the students who stayed in for shabbat took advantage of this additional chance to dance in circles, while faculty and guests were, for the most part, content to listen and watch from the sidelines.

I must admit that the festivities at YU, although free, were not my first priority that night, as they took a back seat to another concert, this one given by Neshama Carlebach, Reb Shlomo's daughter. The Upper West Side event, heavily publicized, was sold out when I arrived 40 minutes late. Denied entrance, I found a side room, and sat with my friend and some other late-coming fans, making new acquaintances and dancing as Neshama's music carried through the doors to our private box seats. Later, as the concert began to peak, a bouncer allowed us to enter, perhaps stirred by our uncompromising determination to enjoy the show (or maybe he was just sick of us banging on the door.) In any case, the concert was outstanding on all accounts, as Neshama stayed true to her father's musical tradition while throwing in some surprises, including her own original songwriting attempt, and a heartfelt classic from 'the holy rebbitzin' Joni Mitchell. The crowd became immersed in the music, and danced with a sense of resolution; one felt that by dancing a little bit harder, he could bring Reb Shlomo back into the physical world. Although Reb Shlomo was not there in person, there was a sense that he was; as he may have predicted, his legacy, through his music, transcends physical boundaries and lives on.