A meydl in di yorn
Performed by Adrienne Cooper accompanied by Zalmen Mlotek, piano
Recorded at KlezKamp: The Yiddish Folk Arts Program
Paramount Hotel, Parksville, NY
December 1989
Photo by Layle Silbert
A meydl in di yorn
Performed by Adrienne Cooper accompanied by Zalmen Mlotek, piano
Recorded at KlezKamp: The Yiddish Folk Arts Program
Paramount Hotel, Parksville, NY
December 1989
Photo by Layle Silbert
This is a slightly expanded version of an article published in the Fall 2011 issue of Yedies, YIVO’s newsletter, featuring full color scans of artwork and sound clips.
In commemoration of the 95th yortsayt of the beloved Yiddish author and playwright Sholem Aleichem (1859-1916), I’ve selected some vivid period artwork and sound samples of the respective recordings of the writer’s work from which it derives.
First, here is the unique purple label from the test recording made by Sholem Aleichem for the Victor company in 1915 and issued in memoriam, accompanied by the two short excerpts he read for the acoustic horn.
Ven ikh bin Rotshild/A freylekher yontev – If I Were Rothschild/A Joyful Holiday (Sholem Aleichem), excerpts read by Sholem Aleichem. 10-inch 78rpm disc label. Victor Recording Company, New York, 1916
An anonymous colorful depiction of shtetl life decorates the cover of a deluxe 12-inch double 78rpm disc set Tales from the Old Country as told by Howard Da Silva issued by American Decca in 1948.
The Fiddle (Sholem Aleichem, translation by Julius and Frances Butwin, adaptation by Howard Da Silva, music by Serge Hovey, violin solo by Oscar Shumsky) read by Howard Da Silva, from Sholem Aleichem’s Tales from the Old Country as told by Howard Da Silva. 12-inch 78rpm album cover, designer and artist unknown. Decca Records, New York, 1948.
Actor-director Da Silva, born Howard Silverblatt in Cleveland to Yiddish-speaking parents from Russia, maintained a relationship on stage and record with Sholem Aleichem’s work; he was featured in Arnold Perl’s 1953 dramatization of several stories presented as The World of Sholem Aleichem (the lp jacket features drawings by the renowned artist Ben Shahn) and directed its 1957 sequel Tevya and His Daughters – the catalyst for the hit musical Fiddler on the Roof.
The High School, excerpt (Sholem Aleichem, dramatization by Howard Da Silva, music by Serge Hovey and Robert de Cormier) performed by Howard Da Silva, Morris Carnovsky, Pearl Sommers, Gilbert S. Green, David Pressman and Ruby Dee. The World of Sholom Aleichem. 10-inch lp album cover, designer unknown, artwork by Ben Shahn. Rachel Recordings, New York, circa 1953.
Typical of the same period for smaller, privately owned Jewish record companies is the lp cover art for Holiday Stories, a wonderful, rare West Coast disc by Yiddish stage and Hollywood screen character actor Elihu Tenenholtz.
Kopel Mineester (Sholem Aleichem) read by Elihu Tenenholtz, from Holiday Stories: Elihu Tenenholtz Reading Sholom Aleichem. 12-inch lp album cover, designer unknown. Yiddish Literature Records, Hollywood, CA, date unknown.
Most striking of all, (visually speaking) perhaps, is spoken word label Caedmon Records’ Menasha Skulnik: Stories of Sholem Aleichem, illustrated by the well-known husband and wife team of Diane and Leo Dillon.
It’s a Lie (Sholem Aleichem), read by Menasha Skulnik, from Stories of Sholem Aleichem read by Menasha Skulnik. 12-inch lp album cover, artwork by Leo and Diane Dillon. Caedmon Records, New York, date unknown.
The artwork created for commercial discs was designed for the purpose of selling them to a public familiar with the happy experience of browsing through record store bins. Though those days are sadly a thing of the past, maybe you’ll be inspired by what you’ve seen and heard here to come and give some more of these treasures a look and listen.
The Max and Frieda Weinstein Archives of YIVO Sound Recordings is open to researchers by appointment: (212) 294-6169, lsklamberg@yivo.cjh.org
Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?
I was contacted a week ago by Itzik Gottesman, director of the An-sky Jewish Folklore Research Project regarding a song he has posted on the blog The Yiddish Song of the Week (http://yiddishsong.wordpress.com), “Ven ikh volt gehat dem keysers oytsres” (If I had the Emperor’s treasures), specifically regarding a recording of the song by our old friend, Isa Kremer.

Isa Kremer
Apparently it figured prominently in her repertoire. So, not only did she commit the song to disc, but she did so twice, and published it in her collection Album of Jewish Folk-Songs (The Jewish Life in Song) (Chappel & Co., Ltd., London, New York and Sydney, 1930).
So I thought it might be nice to post her version here. Please do refer to the Yiddish Song of the Week blog for more detailed information on the song itself.
Here is Kremer’s first version, recorded in New York in February 1923 with Kurt Heltzel at the piano.

A Wiegelied
Here is the second version, recorded circa 1945 with an ensemble led by Yiddish theater composer Alexander (Shura) Olshanetsky.

The first version includes the middle verse mentioned in Itzik’s blog notes, the second doesn’t. Interesting to note the difference in the two performances, 20 years apart – at age 40 and 60, respectively. In addition to a lower key and deeper vocal sound (presumably to accommodate Kremer’s vocal resources in her later years), the 1940s brings a beautiful use of her floated head voice at the end.
Here is the song as it appears in Kremer’s music folio:
I also thought it might be interesting to show the original lyrics by Mikhl Gordon on which this song is based, as they appeared in his collection Di bord, un dertsu nokh andere sheyne yidishe lider (The Beard and Other Beautiful Yiddish Songs, Zhitomir, 1868).
I also cataloged recently a test pressing of an apparently unissued recording of Kremer performing a creepy French song, “Le Petit Navire,” which appears in its entirety in a collection of essays published by Sigmund Freud (!). But that’ll have to wait until next time…
Lorin
Hi, all
I’m running out of oxygen here in the Sound Archives (on Fridays they turn off the ventilation mid-afternoon) so I gotta be fast before I pass out.
I thought I might post a couple of seasonal things for our listening pleasure.
First, a heartfelt B’rosh Hashonoh (New Year’s Prayer) from Cantor Joseph Shapiro (1890-1938) with Machtenburg’s Choir, recorded for Victor in New York City in July 1929, one of only four issued sides by this great singer.
(This performance was also reissued on the Yazoo cd Mysteries of the Sabbath).
Here’s a beautiful art song based on the theme of Kol Nidre. The piece is called, appropriately enough, Yom Kippur, words and music by H.B. Silberstein and Rhea Silberta.

This from a 1922 Brunswick recording by the soprano Dorothy Jardon, a singer unknown to me until now. She’s included on the cd-rom of classical Jewish singers, Stars of David, which I can’t put my fingers on at the moment. But here, at least is a photo of our prima donna…

Lovely.
All this fervor reminds me of the hellfire-and-brimstone Torah-reader at my family’s shul in Alhambra, CA, Edward Wellman.
Something to look forward to in the new year…
Leshone toyve!
Lorin
Hi, all. Hope you’re keeping cool. Me, I’m gearing up to go KlezKanada in Montréal to teach folksongs collected by Ruth Rubin.
Meantime, last week I was working with a researcher interested in examples of songs combining Yiddish and English, most of which ended up being of a comic nature. One particular favorite that had us rolling on the floor was a disc from the 1950s called Kreplach performed by the debonair Leo Fuchs.
(I believe this 45rpm disc was donated by Itzik Gottesman).
So fun. It sounds to me like Mickey Katz’s band featuring the incredible Manny Klein on trumpet.
Before we leave Leo Fuchs, click on the title to see and hear him in action in a song from Edgar G. Ulmer’s 1940 film American Matchmaker.
As I’ve often remarked, I learn or find something new every day here in the Sound Archives. While we were laughing the afternoon away we came across a great routine from 1922 by Yiddish theater greats Anna Hoffman and Jacob Jacobs.
I guess this is the Yiddish answer to what was apparently the “party disc” of the era, the so-called “laughing record.” We have one around here somewhere… if I find it, you’ll be the first to hear it.
But let’s get back to Hoffman and Jacobs. Bet you can’t help but chuckle, even a little…
Sometimes you’ve just gotta laugh <g>
Lorin
Greetings. I’m almost back in my apartment after over two months of renovations. Can’t wait to be cooking on that new stove. But then, that’s not why you’re here. (Also, fwiw, the a/c in the Sound Archives is working again – good for me, good for you, good for the Jews).
I apologize for not writing more often – I thought I might be able to do this from the road, but so far, no…
Therefore, since I’m back, I tried to think of something really special to share. About ten years ago, I cataloged a 1928 Victor disc by Moishele Soorkis, “The Blind Cantor.”
Here is a biography from the jacket of the Collectors Guild lp Cantorial Rarities, on which two of his four known issued cantorial sides appear:
Moishele Soorkis (1900-1974) was born in Uman, now Ukraine. Tragically, he lost his sight through illness when he was only eight weeks old; this was not discovered until he was nearly one. When at age of six the boy showed promise as a singer, his father, Leib Soorkis, a well known synagogue composer and choral conductor, began to keep him at his side during services; thus Moishele learned both chazzanuth and choral song. When he was ten, he became a boy cantor and for three years traveled through Russia on concert tours. In December 1913 he was brought to the United States. Here he spent two years at the Perkins Institute for the Blind in Boston, where he learned to read and write in Braille. At seventeen Moishele accepted the position of cantor in the Rozistzever Synagogue of Philadelphia, serving for two years. Since then, he has officiated only at High Holiday services : ten years in Philadelphia at Rozistzever and Tikvas Israel Synagogues, five years in Chicago, five years in Boston, and one year in New York. His flexible tenor voice has both a lyric and dramatic coloration.
(YIVO houses about a third of the masters for the Collectors Guild label in the papers of its owner, Benedict Stambler. The collection also includes field recordings of various Hasidic dynasties made in Brooklyn around 1960).
So I was curious to read what was on the label:
What the bio doesn’t mention is that Cantor Soorkis was also apparently an accomplished klezmer organist. Listen and you’ll here what I mean:
We want more…
Lovely. Really beautiful.
Until next time (and hopefully sooner),
Lorin
All right, so it’s not one of those fancy computer-y things with cool 3d visual perspective and such. But I thought it might be fun to show you a little of what the Sound Archives looks like. One thing I’ll spare you is the current lack of ventilation here on the library floor – we’ve been assured that it’s only temporary – hmmm…
So, once you go through the double glass doors, you turn left, and in the corner there are two wood doors. But before you get there, you’ll see a small exhibit with a plaque (the building houses five Jewish non-profits, so what do you expect?) – The YIVO Sidney Krum Yiddish Theater and Music Collection Gallery (it’s a l o n g plaque).
Of particular interest is the disc behind glass. Red shellac, too…
Looking closer,
it’s an Aaron Lebedeff recording from 1923 (not that I have that information in my head, mind you – I found it in our database…)
I suppose you’d like to hear it… well, ok…
Shh, shh be quiet, the Rabbi is coming from shul… see the Rabbi’s wife and how she smiles… she’s like a lovely Purim cake… she shines like a menorah… she’s like a cheese blintz… a Passover wine-vessel… a noodle kugl…
All this talk about food is making me hungry. Pret it is. Be right back…
OK, so here’s our modest little plaque…
And if you go through the door on the right, you’ll find our listening facility (hint, hint).
But if you go through the other door you’ll find my office and the bulk of the Sound Archives’ holdings. Behind the door is the piano that was in Herman Yablokoff’s apartment.
Unfortunately it has a cracked pin block. And, unfortunately, it’s still in my office.
But let’s take a look inside. Here’s some parts of the collection – the commercial 78rpm discs, all 6,404 (and counting) sides of them
The lps, all nice and neat in their shiny new sleeves…
and my assistant, Matt Temkin, cataloging them on the Mac
I used to have hair like that…
And the fancy sliding shelves with cds and cassettes…
I bet you’re just hankering for some more music right about now. So that gives me an excuse to show you our custom-made Diapason turntable (plays just about anything)…
and styli with scientifically calibrated tracking weights…
Oh, yeah, what was that disc on the turntable? Could it be an artist test-pressing of an unissued recording by Isa Kremer and accompanist Leon Rosenbloom of Moniuszko’s song Kozak made in 1924?
Why, yes it could. Let’s listen…
Nice!
What else do I have left to show you – our mixing board and tower of audio power…
…and the reel-to-reel tape deck and other stuff.
BTW, that doll sitting on the printer was a present from Israel from my friend Margaret. If you squeeze one hand it says the Shma, the other Moyde ani. That’s our people…
And that’s all I have time for now.
Come visit…
xo Lorin