Bashert Klezmer: A band that was meant to be, with a singer to the rescue
(GREAT BARRINGTON, Mass., March 28, 2000)
A relatively new quartet, Bashert comes with a distinctive pedigree.
Instrumentalists Sruli Dresdner and Lisa Mayer are best-known for “Oy Vey,”
their series of high-quality klezmer childrens recordings, and for their
membership in the band Klezchester. Brian Bender is a linchpin of the
Pioneer Valley-based Wholesale Klezmer Band, and also shows up in a variety
of other groups, klezmer and otherwise.
As such, one went to the show expecting to hear a solidly-performed evening
of traditional-style klezmer, infused with the sort of heymishe Yidishkayt,
or warm, familiar sense of Yiddish culture, that one is accustomed to
hearing from these performers.
And on that note, Bashert, which means “fated” or “meant to be,” did not
disappoint. The trio of instrumentalists, who have played together in other
lineups, communicated with each other with apparent telepathy. Among the
three of them they commanded a whole band’s worth of instruments, with
Dresdner on clarinet, accordion, and pok, or bass drum, Bender on trombone,
keyboard and melodica, and Mayer on fidl, or violin.
On clarinet, Dresdner invested his playing with a deep spirituality stemming
from his Hasidic upbringing. He built his solos upon Hasidic nigunim, or
wordless melodies, and used them to conjure up the sort of ecstatic joy for
which they were originally intended.
Mayer was a lively soloist and accompanist in the sekunde, or rhythmic
style. She, too, channeled the voice of Old World poignancy through her
playing, equal parts joy and sorrow.
Bender exhibited his inventive streak, exploring new possibilities for the
trombone in the ensemble, as melody or rhythm instrument, and for the
melodica, a breath-powered keyboard from which he elicited a particularly
ancient sound.
But the ringer in the quartet was a heretofore unknown vocalist. Felicia
Shpall may be a new name to those who follow Yiddish music closely, but if
there’s any justice in the world, it won’t be for long.
Bashert balanced its instrumental dance numbers – freylekhs and bulgars –
and listening tunes – doinas and nigunim – with classic and modern Yiddish
vocal numbers, theater and art songs delivered with stunning drama,
authority and conviction by Shpall.
Either by nature or by decades of unfortunate interpretations, the sort of
dramatic theater songs that Shpall performed are often rendered with lethal
doses of schmaltz. They’re often performed too theatrically by singers whose
voices are more grating than convincing, and as a result they’ve given the
music a bad name.
Here comes Shpall to the rescue.
Not by dint of any post-modern tricks, by any winking of the eye or knowing
camp. Not by punking it up or jazzing with the tunes, although there were
subtle hints of punk edge and jazz-derived improvisations, but always
stemming from the material itself, which Shpall reminded us is richly
dramatic, melodic, funny and heartbreaking.
No, it was a combination of raw talent, abundant technique and
unquantifiable soul that allowed Shpall to take command of this difficult
material, wrestle it into shape, and along the way, take the audience with
her to a place it probably didn’t know it wanted to go.
Shpall boasts a deep, luscious tone, matched by an earthy sensuality --
again, all in the service of the material. She smoothly and seamlessly made
stylistic transitions between theatrical singing, cabaret, jazz, chansons
and cantorial singing – with its achy-breaky catches, the signature
ornamentation, called kneytshn, krekhtsn and tshoks.
She sang to and in the audience, familiar numbers like “Mekhuteneste Mayne
(My In-Laws)” and “Di Sapozkelekh (The Boots),” and lesser-known tunes such
as “Kotsk” and “Aye Lyu, Lyu Mayne Tayere,” in a Yiddish that flowed off her
tongue as if she were a native speaker (she’s not). Shpall fully inhabited
the material, rendering it as dramatically as required, without an ounce
less or more.
A relative unknown in her field, Shpall, whose background in theater has
done her more good than harm, arrives instantly as talented as any of the
greatest contemporary Yiddish vocalists. Mazel tov and zol zayn mit glik!
Seth Rogovoy rogovoy@berkshire.net music news, interviews, reviews, et al.
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