but I wanna have the stability that doesn’t normally go along with being a musician. (S. Warner. May 3, 2000)
The broader Jewish backgrounds of these students generally led them to consider a range of cantorial schools rather than gravitate to the school associated with one particular movement. All but one explored both the School of Sacred Music and the Conservative movement’s cantorial school. In the end, each chose Hebrew Union College for a different reason: some emphasized taking a liking to the movement’s ideological positions, while others were drawn to the quality of the music education, the pedagogy, and (for women) a perception that the Reform movement had better chances for job placement. None of the students, however, stated they chose Hebrew Union College for reasons having to do with earlier religious affiliations. Rather, their decision to apply seemed based on a desire to attend the “best” cantorial school for their needs.
The third and largest grouping of narratives, comprising over half the students I interviewed, involved students who came to the cantorate as a final, and fulfilling, career choice. Typically well- trained in classical voice and/or instrumental traditions, these students’ decisions to apply to the School of Sacred Music frequently came after years pursuing other musical careers. As with the second grouping, the large majority of these candidates had grown up outside of Reform Judaism, usually within the Conservative movement and educational system. Yet few cited their upbringings as crucial factors in their decisions to apply to the cantorate. Instead, the students within this group tended to describe the cantorate as a professional music career that resonated deeply with their personal aesthetics and ideologies.
Students recounted extensive classical musical training—usually vocal—throughout their early lives and undergraduate careers. Many also earned their bachelors degrees in music or musical performance. They did not seem to become familiar with the cantorate and synagogue music, however, until later. After graduation, many of these students went on to pursue careers in opera and other forms of musical performance. Others continued singing semiprofessionally, while holding full-time jobs outside the musical field.
Many of the students in this group began to consider the cantorate after substantial professional experience with established cantors. These relationships frequently started serendipitously. Some began with parttime employment in a professional synagogue choir, and expanded to solo and cantorial substitute work upon the recognition of the student’s Jewish identity:
I talked to a cantor at a Reform temple who hired me to be a sub[stitute] for his quartet.… [O]ne night [the cantor] was losing his voice; it was a Friday night service. I was subbing for the soprano; and I was the only Jewish person singing in the quartet. It’s pretty common; [in] all the other temples [I sang in] that had quartets, I was the only Jewish person.… So, [the cantor] turned to me and said: “I know it’s Friday night but, how quickly can you learn a service?” And, so I took the music home and the next morning I came over and sang the service; as the soloist and not in the quartet. And he basically just shuffled me around [during the service]. He’s like “Okay, get up now” and “Walk over here.” He came to the service; he just couldn’t open his mouth. So that was my first experience as a cantorial soloist. (Interview)
Other students came into similar relationships by taking congregational Hebrew School jobs, or simply by approaching the cantor directly. Bearing a resemblance to the “classical” apprenticeship approach to cantorial education, these relationships introduced students to increasing musical responsibilities, while teaching them both the progression of the service as well as the musical choices entailed in leading it. While this learning process seemed to focus more on professional development than on religious interest, students nonetheless gained a specialized knowledge through their activities, leading to an interest in further study.
Notably, only students in this group framed their attraction to the cantorate through a personal connection to the religious musical repertoire itself. Implicitly defining the music as a genre, their comments seemed to reinforce their perceptions of the cantorate as a kind of professional singing career; at the same time, the music seemed to become a vessel for some students to explore their Jewish identities in new and inspiring ways. In one particularly stark example, a student who had held an overall ambivalent view of Judaism described an intangible affinity to “the music” as a strong initial argument for entering the cantorate:
One day I was living in Chicago and I had flown into New York to do the High Holy Days [i.e., to sing as a part of a synagogue choir]. And I was sitting there one day and I thought, “I really wanna do this. Like, I really love this music. I don’t really like [i.e., fully understand] Judaism, but I really love this music. And, so, I have to do something with it. So maybe I’ll be a cantor.”.… I decided to do it on the basis that I was very connected to the music. And I hadn’t figured out why but I knew it was very important. So, I decided to go with it. (Interview)
Upon making their decisions to pursue a cantorial education, these students described leaving unsatisfying occupations. For them, being a cantor offered a more desirable quality of life, even at the temporary expense of financial viability:
I didn’t like my new [opera] colleagues. I didn’t like the way that they lived their lives. It wasn’t that they were bad people—they were great. And I had a great time. But their lives were so much as gypsies; and the woman who was singing the starring role in [my touring company of] La Traviata, she was married to another singer. They had no children. They couldn’t have children; not ’cause they physically couldn’t, [but] because their lives wouldn’t let them. And I didn’t want my life to look like theirs. I saw that and I said “This is not for me. I don’t want this.” And I also didn’t wanna just be “a Mom,” and stay at home. I wanted something that I loved to do that I was good at, and that really meant something to me. And I saw from that experience that opera was not it. And there was a lot of cattiness and a lot of cruelty between people; a lot of unprofessional behavior, as well as some great stuff. But, it wasn’t for me. (R. Lambert-Hayut, Feb. 10, 2000)
Like those in the second group, several students placed great significance on the comparative stability of cantorial jobs; and all hoped this occupational choice would be their last. Several indicated that studying for the cantorate would either cause or clear the way for major life changes and reorientations, including marriage, “settling down,” and “returning” to Judaism. Perhaps the most dramatic—and least pleasant—of these changes involved students who were in serious personal relationships with non-Jews. Though unwritten in the School’s literature, the School of Sacred Music (and all of Hebrew Union College) strongly discouraged students from dating or marrying non-Jews. Mentors thus advised potential applicants involved in exogamous relationships (all of whom were in this third group) not to apply until that situation resolved, since the admissions committee would inevitably reject them.
[W]hen I decided to go [to the School of Sacred Music, my partner] and I hadn’t been married yet.… So I called up, and made an appointment to talk to the Dean and I came in and he heard about my [partner]. And [the director] said … “Is [your partner] Jewish?” And I said “No.” And I told him we were getting married. And he said, “Well, you have to understand that you cannot apply; you cannot fill out an application form, unless [your partner] converts [to Judaism].” So I had to go home and tell this to [my partner.].… [A] lot of [my partner’s] extended family is Jewish, so [my partner] has attended many Jewish holidays, with me and with [my partner’s] family. Although [my partner] was brought up Christian. But [my partner] was not foreign to the religion. So, that was a very difficult process, that leaves a lot of resentment, which I absolutely understood.… (Interview)
This circumstance, while emotionally trying, emphasized the compound nature of the decision to attend cantorial school. Even before applying, students had to embrace lifestyle choices amenable to the institution’s ideology.
The concept of becoming a cantor through a graduate program, in contrast, never created internal conflict among those
