STEPPING UP TO THE PLATE

I was nineteen years old…standing in the back of Beth Tikvah synagogue, singing along with Cantor Sapir. I sang as loudly as I could – hoping to eventually get noticed. It took a while but finally he asked me who I was. I had already been working there as the youth director for one year. I was a York University student, doing a bachelor in business administration. I told him that I wanted to learn how to be a Hazzan. He arranged a meeting with Cantor Kirshblum at Adath Israel – the elder statesman of Toronto’s Hazzanim. I was nervous – it was like an audition to see if I had what it took to follow in their footsteps. One hour later I emerged –a big binder of music in hand. Cantor Kirshblum had offered me a position in his choir and a scholarship for cantorial lessons.

I admired Cantor Kirshblum’s style -- something I hadn’t heard as a child in Sudbury or London. It had a yearning from a generation before – an Eastern European flavour that cried with anguish. He was generous, always encouraging me with a solo. This eventually led to an opportunity to daven when he was away, lead services over the high holidays and finally a scholarship to go to Israel to formalize my studies. Over the years, the best advice he ever gave me had nothing to do with singing. He told me to finish my MBA first – “I would sing better if I always knew that I had something else to rely upon.”

Over the years, Cantor Kirshblum became my closest supporter in the cantorial field. He shared his wisdom on how to succeed on and off the bimah. There were many late night calls from Israel and Montreal when I had questions on how to handle particular situations. This past Sunday was my turn to return the favour. After forty-two years as the cantor at Adath Israel Congregation, the Toronto Cantors paid tribute to him. My speech recounted the many lessons I learned from him. The video tribute illustrated the great impact he had on Toronto’s Jewish community over the last four decades. The performers included the finest cantors in the world. As I processed the events of the evening, I also came to the painful realization that those whom I have looked up to and admired in this profession are getting older. The great cantors of the world today are all in their sixties and seventies. They represent the second generation after the Golden Age of Cantors.

When I was a little boy, I loved to watch hockey – quite possibly because Sudbury only had one television channel and Saturday night on CBC was Hockey Night in Canada. I remember the greats of that time – Bobby Orr, Ken Dryden, Phil Esposito, Guy Lafleur. As those players have moved away from professional hockey, a next generation of even better players has emerged. I can’t say the same about Hazzanus. The generation of cantors like Stern, Herstik, Malovany, Miller, Motzen, Shulhof, Danto and Bagley z”l may represent the last generation of great cantors.

Everyone needs a role model. I have been fortunate to have so many great role models in my life. I have been equally blessed to have had the opportunity to sing by their side. Just as a child becomes a parent and later a grand-parent, the time for me to step up to the plate is quickly approaching. Soon the next generation of cantors will be the custodians of the cantorial art form that my mentors devoted their lives to.

Today, Rabbis and Cantors move around from congregation to congregation in different cities every few years. They miss making the big impact of growing with their congregation and building an association of trust and history with their members. As I stood on the bimah on Sunday night, looking out at the sanctuary of over 1200 people, there was not an empty seat. Cantor Kirshblum’s success was so evident – his greatest accomplishment was the love and admiration he had accumulated in the 42 years he spent at Adath Israel. I dedicate this article to his career of devoted service to his community – another important lesson he has shared with his student.