Yesterday, the news from DC was not good, nor was the weather, nor was my writing! So I quit work at 3:30 and headed for the Kendall Square T. where I came upon the delightful Keytar bear, who immediately raised my spirits. I’ve long wanted to share the work of Boston area street musicians– Keytar said it would fine to post a video. I’m hoping this will be the first of many–and would welcome your contributions!

Anita M. Harris

Anita Harris is a writer and communications consultant based in Kendall Square, Cambridge.
New Cambridge Observer is ia publication of the Harris Communications Group, an award-winning PR and market development firm baswed in Cambridge, MA.

Last winter, New York’s Metropolitan Opera announced a 2014-15 season that would include its first production of a John Adams’ 1991 work, The Death of Klinghoffer.   The opera portrays the October, 1985 hijacking of a cruise ship, the Achille Lauro, by members of the Palestine Liberation Front who were seeking the release of 50 Palestinians held in Israeli prisons.   A vacationing American Jew, the wheelchair-bound Leon Klinghoffer, was shot by the hijackers.  His body was thrown overboard.

Controversy and protests began almost immediately after the season announcement.   The opera’s libretto, by Alice Goodman, is the source of much complaint and has been cherry-picked for lines deemed offensive and anti-Semitic.   Goodman’s text — poetic, often obscure, and perhaps ambivalent in its meaning — begins with alternating choruses that express the feelings of “Exiled Palestinians” and then “Exiled Jews.”   Besides the Klinghoffers, the other four named roles are those of the hijackers.  (Other characters have generic names, e.g., The Captain.)   By identifying the Palestinians and giving them voice, the charges go, Goodman humanizes and elevates them, while placing their politics at center stage.   Protesters even objected to the title of the opera, asking why it was called The Death of Klinghoffer and not The Murder of Klinghoffer.

These objections were accompanied by repeated calls for cancellation, as well as for a general boycott of the Met.  By spring, General Manager Peter Gelb had acquiesced to at least one demand, calling off a high-definition transmission that would have played in movie theaters around the world.    The summer’s Gaza incursion (by Israel) raised the temperature even higher:  the protesters were certain that the eight scheduled performances of Klinghoffer would provoke further incidents of anti-Semitism, in addition to those that had been reported in Europe throughout those fraught months.

In late September, opening night of the Met season featured fancy dress inside and demonstrations outside.   New York synagogue bulletins urged members to express their displeasure by writing to Mr. Gelb.  The New York Times reported that some individuals had gone further, actually finding ways to reach the performers themselves through threatening messages to their managers.  On October 20, the night of the production opening, protesters sat in a row of wheelchairs positioned opposite Lincoln Center Plaza.

Art, specifically opera, suddenly mattered.  It had become the center of a nasty, noisy, public debate.  Some music journalists reveled in the attention and in the moment of relevance for a 400-year-old form.  I, however, was incensed by the assault, and embarrassed by the willful ignorance of those who ranted while freely admitting that they had never seen the work in question.

That I love opera is often difficult to explain to those who don’t care for the sound of trained classical singing, let alone those who find it a ridiculous mode of expression.  It is improbable, but also compelling and, on the best nights, transporting.

Well-meaning friends, good people who don’t care about opera or opera-going, suddenly wanted my personal take on the argument, a ruling on the allegations of inherent anti-Semitism in Klinghoffer.   I was frustrated by their questions and by my inability to respond.   Were I to answer, I am sure that I would confound their expectations and might even offend my questioners.

I have been looking forward to seeing Klinghoffer for months now.    I’m no fan of Minimalism in music; I actively dislike the monotonous work of Philip Glass.    Although I haven’t studied the music in depth, I find that Adams offers greater texture and variety — more to intrigue the ear.  A few years ago, his Nixon in China made a deep and lasting impression on me.   Why wouldn’t I be curious to hear the next work in the line, an opera that many deem even more successful as music-drama?

Again, my friends don’t care about this.  Most aren’t really even concerned with the politics of art, only with the question of possible anti-Semitism which, in this case, is probably closer to insufficient focus on Jewish characters or inadequately expressed sympathy for their point of view.

I am not apolitical in the least, but my politics are my own, my taste in music is my own, and the terms of my Jewish identity are my own, too.   I am often inclined to choose art over strict tribal allegiance.   Richard Wagner was, by all accounts, a reprehensible man who wrote glorious music.  Many other arguably great composers were probable or certain anti-Semites.  Of this, there is nothing to be said, no dilemmas or choices to weigh.  These were the commonly-held opinions of the day.  Over time, the art has outshone and overshadowed the failings of the artists, patrons, and societies.

I doubt that The Death of Klinghoffer is “anti-Semitic,” if such a thing can be said of music itself.  It may dramatize conflicting points of view, which is usually desirable in the context of theater.    I haven’t seen the opera yet but, once I have, there might be more to say.  (Check this space in a few weeks.)   For now, I hope to be moved:  to me, that is an essential part of watching live performance.   I may feel inclined to anger, not because I expect to find the representation to be unfair, but because the acts themselves were cruel and senseless, and because music and drama can heighten emotion.    But whatever my response, I will have seen and judged Klinghoffer for its success as a work of lyric theater – my own passion – and not as an affirmation of anyone else’s politics.

Rachel Yurman ©2014

New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group, based in Cambridge, MA. 

Will play at West End Johnnie, Boston, on Wednesday, November 20 Limited tickets now available through Eventbrite.com

James Montgomery to lead at acoustic blues benefit Nov. 20

Here are photos I took at last night’s gala benefit for Bill Lichtenstein’s forthcoming film, “The American Revolution–a documentary on WBCN radio which Lichtenstein credits as instrumental (pun intended) in the political and cultural upheavals of the late 1960s.

A couple hundred people in the audience included  aging hippies, former (present?) dopers, professional and professorial types.  As an aging something or other myself, my only complaint was that there were no chairs…and it was a four hour show!

Please forgive my including three photos of Bill–wordpress glitch.

Anita M. Harris
New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group, a strategic PR/thought leadership/social media firm based in Kendall Square, Cambridge.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending the debut concert of Aljashu, a group formed by vocalist Julia Madeson to perform songs sung  in the Ladino language, a combination of Hebrew and Spanish spoken (and sung) by Jews in Spain and Portugal before the Spanish Inquisition,which began in 1492.

The group’s name derives from a Turkish-Jewish Passover dessert of matzoh (unleavened bread) piled with dried fruits and nuts, drizzled with honey. With this metaphor of an often afflicted past wherein Jewish populations have been forced out of various places over their history while adopting sweet and savory local gifts, Madeson writes in the program notes, the group hopes to bring Ladino’s modal infused music to a wide audience.

photo credit Adeline Goldminc-Tronzo;

For several centuries before their 1492 expulsion, it is believed,  90  percent of all Jews lived in Portugal and Spain a multicultural environment that after included Catholics and Muslims.  After 1492,  some  Jews remained on the Iberian peninsula, openly converting to Catholicism but secretly practicing Judiasm (Conversos, or Moranos).  Many others traveled  by ship to the welcoming Ottoman Empire,  to live in cities such as Istanbul, Izmir (then Smyrna) and to locations in and beyond the Greek Islands, such as Rhodes, Salonica, and Morocco–carrying their language, music, customs and traditions with them.

Yesterday’s concert, at the Berkelee College of Music, t featured songs and music several centuries old; modern compostitions by the late Judy Frankel;  and instruments played by students and graduates of the Berkelee  Guitar Department, where Ms. Madeson is employed.

The music–which  sounded like yiddish or kletzmer melodies at some points–like Latin or flamenco  at others, and quite frequently, like a mix of both–was played on the Turkish oud (a lute and guitar relative), the lute-like saz, the banjo-like cumbus–manufactured only in Istanbul, and on fretted and fretless guitars. The percussion instruments represented the cajon–widely used in Spain, and the dumbek, riq and zils, played extensively in Turkey.

Julia’s operatic voice blended beautifully with the instrumental sounds of Tev Stevig, on strings, Brian O’Neill, percussion, and  Berkeley students Sabi Saltiel on guitars and saz, Cagri Erdom, Jussi Reijonen, and Jean-pierre D’Alencon, on guitars, and with the voice of guest vocalist Sarah-Jane Pugh, who, with Madeson  performed a lovely duet called Shaba.

The concert was performed in honor of  Chanukah, the Jewish Festival of Lights.  A spring concert, entitled “Everlasting Spring,” is in the works.

Photo credit #1David Buckman,
Photo credit #2, 3,4,  Adeline Goldminc-Tronzo

I’m not much of an opera fan, but because friend Rachel was singing in the chorus I managed to take in the final performance of this year’s  Lowell House production: Otello.

The  Verdi opera itself doesn’t have much of a story (Rachel says it cuts back on the complexity of the Shakespearean drama to the point where it’s just the villain Iago planting the lovely Desdemona’s handkerchief in the home of his rival Cassio’s home in order to provoke her husband’s Otello’s jealousy-so I found myself thinking that,  if it weren’t for the music, there wouldn’t be  much there.

But the music was spectacular. Even before the opera started,  the tuning up phase brought palpable energy and anticipation to  the audience. And throughout, the orchestra, a mix of student and professional musicians  conducted by  Channing Yu (who,  in his other life, an attending physician at a Boston teaching  hospital) played dramatical clashes and soothing lows that provided a vibrant backdrop for wonderful singing by both professional  musicians and students.

I was particularly entranced  by Andrew Young, who played the villain Iago so well that he was  booed, during his graceful bow, at the end). I felt that his powerful performance upstaged Brian Landry’s  Otello, who, along with Malynda Davis, gave excellent performances–as did a slightly weaker Andre De Mesquita, playing Cassio. The principals, who also included Ana Ugarte as Emilia, John Erban, as Lodvico, an James Liu, as Montano, and DJ Robinson, as Roderego,  were backed up by an enthusiastic (if slightly hard-to hear) chorus–including the soprano Rachel who appeared to be dressed as a boy.

I never thought I was in Venice or at the Met, but the vibrancy and professionalism of the production and the performers far surpassed what I’d expected to hear–especially  in a college dining hall.

I was happy to join  a well-deserved standing ovation offered by the sold-out crowd.

Metaphor for Everything Debuts 1-12-09

The new alternative rock band Metaphor for Everything held its first show on  Monday, January 12 at Harper’s Ferry, in Boston. The four-man group, led by singer/guitarist Brett Greene, has an edgy, dissonant sound, interesting lyrics (by Greene) and a commanding presence.   Metaphor played to an enthusiastic audience of more than 60 people demanding “more.” The latest tracks, info signup and photos are posted at www.myspace.com/metaphorforeverything.

(Greene  is a relative of the author).