concern was which cantorial school to attend. While ideological and musical issues provided some sway, more influence seemed to come from the affiliations of the students’ cantorial mentors: nearly all the mentors of the students I interviewed in this group had received their training and/or taught at the School of Sacred Music, and all successfully directed students toward the School when they expressed interest in the cantorate.5
While the students comprising all three of these groups grew up in North America, others representing a small but significant international presence within the cohort—particularly from the Former Soviet Union and Australia—offered paths with important narrative variations.
Students recently emigrated from the Soviet Union had matriculated into cantorial school with some consistency (one every couple of years) since the late 1970s, often becoming symbols of American Jewry’s campaign for freeing Soviet Jewish dissidents at the time. By the 1990s, the age of Perestroika had created a somewhat different picture: young Russians began to enjoy greater opportunities to participate in Jewish cultural activities, and the state imposed fewer travel restrictions. Consequently, all the successful applicants to the School spent significant amounts of time in Israel before emigrating to the United States. Several applied to the School shortly after their arrival on American soil; and their decisions to apply appeared inspired by formal musical training in Russia, new freedoms for understanding their religious identities, and a desire to professionalize musicians’ skills within the Jewish world.6 The School of Sacred Music, which tended to place a higher priority on musicality than it did on Judaic knowledge and practice among its applicants (as I will describe later in this chapter), thus offered a space for realizing cantorial ambitions even as students addressed their own religious growth. Noted one student:
Actually, I was thinking about being a cantor in Russia. I taught in two Jewish schools: one every day [a day school] and one supplement[al]. And in [the] supplement[al school] … there [were] twelve girls.… And they had a very strong music background.… And so we had [an] ensemble—but when I left for Israel [on a grant program] and I was doing [Yiddish singing] tours over Russia and abroad.… it mixed up … you cannot direct child[ren] successfully. And so I thought if I could find a job where I could combine [Judaism with music] because I am enjoying working with kids.… There was an attempt to create a Reform congregation in St. Petersburg; but it [didn’t suit my taste].… Here [in the United States] … first I thought “Maybe Conservative [Judaism] will see it for me better.” But it happened that [a Reform cantor] in San Francisco played a big [mentoring] role both as a singer and as a cantor and then she helped me a lot in getting [me to apply to the School of Sacred Music]. And so here I am.…
I became more and more involved with Jewish culture and with Judaism and so it was, like, the next step. I always felt too secular among Orthodox: I had a lot of, and still have a lot of Orthodox friends because we took it very seriously in Rus sia [chuckles] and many people wanted to compensate all they missed [chuckles]. And I always felt too religious among secular people so, I ended up as Reform, I’d say. (L. Averbakh, Feb. 10, 2000)
The Australian applicants, meanwhile, underlined the School of Sacred Music’s status as a prime (if not the only) training institution for Progressive Judaism (an international movement closely related to North American Reform Judaism) more generally.7 Outside the United States, Progressive Jewish institutions tended to hold much less local influence than the more “normative” Orthodox or Traditional groups. Consequently, international cantorial applicants sometimes grew up in more traditional Jewish settings, and came to the movement after undergoing an ideological shift in young adulthood. Their resulting background and knowledge represented a form of Judaism parallel to, but not exactly, American Reform Jewish practices.
The students who decided to apply to cantorial school thus converged through several pathways, all requiring them to think about their religious and musical identities within particular forms of professional training and Jewish ideology. Once decided upon their paths, students faced their next task: gathering materials and preparing profiles that would prove their worthiness for commencing study.
The Application Process
Applying to the School of Sacred Music brought candidates through a months-long, multi-step evaluation process that assessed musical skill and “talent,” Judaic knowledge, and moral character. As self-appointed gatekeepers of the cantorial tradition, the School of Sacred Music’s faculty used these criteria to mediate between several cultural systems—Western academic convention, the “secular” musical world, Reform Jewish identity, and a self-propagated Jewish musical culture—in order to determine which applicants qualified for cantorial study.
The 1999 publicity pamphlet for the School of Sacred Music listed three admissions “prerequisites” for prospective students. “Musical Competence” included “a trained voice,” “sight reading,” and “keyboard harmonization.”8 “Hebrew Competence” comprised “the equivalent of at least one year of college level [Modern] Hebrew.” “Personal Characteristics,” finally, served as a measure for determining readiness for a life of Jewish spiritual service (HUC-JIR SSM [1999]: Inside cover). Taken together, these abilities provided a clear basic format for the discussions that accompanied a student’s candidacy. Applicants and members of the admissions committee echoed these categories in one form or another while describing the admissions process, suggesting their significance as a common reference for mapping preparations and progress.
Students who made the decision to apply to the School of Sacred Music generally did so after much deliberation, and frequently with the assistance of other Reform cantors; they usually, as a result, had knowledge of their strengths and weaknesses in relation to the program’s expectations. By the time they arranged preliminary interviews, therefore, many had already started seeking instruction in their weaker areas: usually voice, Hebrew, or music theory. Their first meeting with the School’s director consequently represented an official declaration of interest, and opened the opportunity for additional guidance about whether and how to prepare for the next parts of the evaluation.
Whenever possible, Cantor Israel Goldstein, the Director of the School of Sacred Music during the time of my fieldwork, conducted the preliminary interview in his office at the New York campus of Hebrew Union College. According to Goldstein, each interview took about forty minutes, and comprised three parts: a dialogue about the student’s religious affiliations and practices, a short vocal and musical evaluation, and a discussion of the student’s chances for admission. “After I’ve met with a student, if I feel that this student has a chance of being accepted by the admissions committee, I will then give them an application,” explained Goldstein (I. Goldstein. Dec. 27, 2000). For aspirants unable to come to New York for an interview, the School would either make arrangements for another cantor to interview the student locally, or accept the recommendation of the applicant’s cantorial mentor. A positive outlook in any of these cases would lead the School to send out the formal application.9
While the preliminary interview helped establish a meaningful dialogue between the student and the School, the paper application required a wide breadth of written information in order to gather a detailed portrait along the lines the School’s director had described informally. Its emphasis clearly fell on the side of character and life experience rather than musical achievement, and closely resembled the application for the College’s parallel rabbinical program.10 Applicants to the School of Sacred Music thus had to satisfy a profile as potential clergy as much as they had to showcase their musical abilities. Entering into a seminary in which they would learn and interact alongside the movement’s future rabbis and professional educators, potential students needed to express their commitment to a career that involved teamwork and a common spiritual language in addition to showing their growth as musicians.11
One part of the application aimed to document the applicant’s history, lifestyle, and upbringing. Aspirants needed to submit high school, college, and graduate school transcripts along
