
Chava Alberstein
Drawing From a Deeper Well
by Edward R. Silverman
The moment is poignant and uplifting, but also slightly confusing. There's Chava Albertstein, arguably Israel's best-known songstress and confirmed diva, singing a moving song about loss caused by the Holocaust. Albertstein wrote the music, but like a dozen others songs on her recent release, the words were crafted by a deceased Yiddish poet. The idea, as Alberstein later explains, is to not only help preserve Yiddish, but also give voice to poets whose work might otherwise be lost forever.
The audience this night at a state college auditorium in Montclair, New Jersey, eats it up. They seem to smile in all the right places, and, by the time Albertstein is done crooning this tale of sorrow in her Edith Piaf-like voice, many can be seen wiping tears away, too. What makes this reaction puzzling, though, is that the vast majority of the crowd doesn't even speak Yiddish. Granted, a survey wasn't taken. But it was clear from the age of the concertgoers and the fact that few Jews in America, other than the ultra-Orthodox Hasidim, speak or understand Yiddish anymore.
So how on earth did Albertstein manage to con vey so success fully the mood and meaning of such a song? It's true that, for some Jews, the mere mention of the Holocaust can be enough to set their hearts raging. But it usually takes much more than that Schindler's List comes to mind to prompt a crowd of a few hundred to simultaneously cry over the subject. The answer, it seems, lies in Albertstein's unusual ability to connect with people in ways that generate strong emotions. And she's able to do so even when listeners don't understand the language.
"Yiddish is a cultural treasure and I can't ignore it," Albertstein said a few days later over a latte, her long, wavy blond hair framing wide, blinking eyes. "The great thing is that we can do things like go on and work in this language and create something, not just treat it as a museum piece. I feel I have a responsibility. If you feel people are ready to listen to you, you might as well say something that really means something, not just because you have a sweet voice...But if you'd asked me two years ago if I'd compose songs in Yiddish, I would have said, 'What for?' "
Until 1986, she was singing songs written by others. By penning her own tunes, though, she entered what has been, in many ways, her most productive and controversial period. In 1989, Albertstein penned a politically charged song that caused a firestorm in Israel. Called "Chad Gadya," she turned the symbolism of an ancient tune sung during the Passover seder about an innocent lamb that's a victim on its head. Instead of the Jews being the downtrodden lamb, she equated Israel with a devouring beast that was victimizing Palestinians and, in the process, corroding its own soul. "I used to be a kid and a peaceful sheep/ Today I am a tiger and a ravenous wolf/ I used to be a dove/ And I used to be a deer/ Today I don't know who I am anymore." Released during the height of the Intifada, the song brought her infamy she was revered by the left and threatened by the right. In a country where nearly everyone is a soldier, Albertstein was even called a traitor.
"Chava is unique in that she is not only Israel's first woman of song, but has used the platform of her artistry and success to address issues of human rights, social justice, and the cause of promulgating a just peace in Israel," says Peter Yarrow, one of Chava's early favorites and now a friend. "Though she's paid a price for doing so, with threats to her safety and the possibility of injury to her career, she's never veered from her ethic and her purpose."
This is an excerpt. Read the full article in Dirty Linen #88 (June/July 2000).