ASSEMBLING THE GOLEM: EVERYMAN 

The Golem, a mythical beast originally created in the Jewish tradition as a product of ecstatic learning and mystical accomplishment, has become a talismanic homunculus endowed with protective power and gifted with giving an oppressed people hope in adverse life.  Further, the Golem has become a versatile symbol, standing for raw human capability and the unchecked power of creation and destruction. The Golem is perhaps who we are as we think we are : the avenging hero, the slayer of oppressors or the sexual victor.

This clay hero/antihero, summoned by a grave act of creative will, realizes the beauty inlaid in life and seeks to live.  He is the tool of his makers : catalyzing individual and societal dramas into confrontation and ultimately, ruin. His purpose, to save the Jews of Prague from extermination, is short-circuited by others who act without such noble intent : he fetches groceries and chops wood and does the bidding of a jealous admirer.  His stay on earth is maligned by his regulation to common behavior.

He abandons the ghetto, the place he was to save, and is subdued by the playful children representing the pure innocence of youth. Oppressive and suspicious rulers forced the Golem into existence as Rabbi Loew, representing the Jews, sought his protection.  However, the Golem, as the lumbering portrayal of desperate Faustian ambition, is felled by a simple and childish tug, taking away his magic existence.
 

LIVING WITH THE GOLEM: KAFKA 

How does one make a musical score fitting the representation of the Golem, as the omnipresent shadow twinning our deepest thoughts and our invariable will?  Superimposing the grim realities of historical context how does a musician artistically portray our id lapping at our presented personae and the collective violence of factual perspective.  Ultimately, the Golem is irrelevant as guardian, as the Jews of Prague 
were rounded up and murdered and hundreds of years of traditions, customs and the unexpected foibles and joys of the every day went up in smoke.  The daily life of the Jews of Prague is no more and remembering the legend of the Golem, is done with travail and pain.

In performing Klezmer music, the organic folk culture is vital.  Musical ideas and modes of expression were passed from community to community by the Klezmorim (itinerant musicians).  Likewise, sacred singers and poetic interpreters (Khazonim) journeyed into different villages and towns learning the customs of the place and infusing the traditional prayers of the synagogue with individual flourishes and improvisations.

DECOMPOSING THE GOLEM: ORPHAN 

Tonight we present music from Central and Eastern Europe as we have striven to establish authenticity of compositional place.  One difficulty is that Jewish music was not notated and systematically collected until the early 19th century.  Consequently, we allow for the fluidity of time both past and future to influence our assembled scores.  Another dilemma: THE GOLEM, filmed in 1920 is set in 16th century Prague, although the actual legend concerning Rabbi Loew is dated from the second half of the 18th century.

Recognizing the attractive utility of the legend of the Golem in establishing the German horror film genre, our main musical task is the recovery of the Jewish tale underneath the visionary lens of the German cinematographer, Paul Wegener.

Living within the dissonance of modern irony and breezy caricature, we analyze the presentation of medieval Jewish traditions and belief systems. By setting the music to this silent film with tunes reflecting depth and grandeur of Jewish sacred and secular musical traditions, we hope to conjure a respectful attitude with a knowing eye as we approach the mysterious Golem and his surroundings of amazing legends.

Recurring bursts of musical leit-motifs guide and interpret the action of this film.  Each character or crucial scene has its own musical theme.  We begin with “Lebedik un Freilach,” depicting the profound joy of living. The preparation leading up to and the creation of the Golem is reflected in the joyful number, “Freilachs fun der chuppe,” a dance tune expressing the hopes and expectations of the people in creating life for the expected protection.  The lovers, Miriam and Knight Florian, enjoy an appropriate theme, a Belorussian tune, affectionately called, “(Skocne) #77 .”

The mood heats up as the spirit of Astaroth is summoned to breathe life into the Golem.  A frenzied Tartar dance is played and as the life-giving amulet is place on the Golem and he begins to move, a new theme is introduced: “Russiche Sher,” representing the Golem while he is alive.
 

As the tension builds, the recondite intentions of Rabbi Loew’s helper, Famulus, are introduced with new music, “Fun Tashlikh.” As the crowds of people alternately rejoice and wail, the “jump tune,” “Freilehke Mekhutonim” and the prophetic “S’Brent” (It Burns) are musically juxtaposed to escalate the rapid divergence of mood.  Indeed, in the synagogue scenes we present traditional liturgical music ñ first “Ashamnu” (We have sinned) a lament heard throughout the High Holydays and later we see the stylized enactment of the priestly blessing with a complement authentic tune.

The royal court is represent by a stark contrast in instrumentation and in musical style ñ we leave you to guess the familiar tune composed by Johann Strauss the Younger.  We chose the tune for its effecting parodic juxtaposition and its representation of a certain governing attitude which, if unchecked, leads to war and political agendas of extermination.

The despair of the Jews in reading of the official proclamation condemning them to death is made musically dissonant with the words “Sh’foch Hamas’cha el Hagoyim,” and the contrafacted tune, enjoyed on the holiday of Purim, “Utzu Etzo.” Both the words and the tune are disdainful of any plans made without reliance on God to right wrongs and to decide what is to be.

As Rabbi Loew consults the mystical books as he prepares the Golem, we hear the words from the last liturgical service on Yom Kippur, “P’sach lanu Sho’ar,” (Open the Gates of Redemption for Us).  Literally we want the gates of the ghetto to be opened and for all the Jews to be safe living in freedom and without fear within the larger society.

We know the fragility of that wish for Jews and for all people.  We end with songs composed immediately before and during World War II. “Yungt-Himen” (Hymn of Youth) states, “Young is every one of us who wants it that way” and was written to buoy depressed spirits.  The idealism of the refrain, “Old folks can be, must be, just like children/In a New World brave and free,” is burdened by the brutality of what youth may become, soured by the examples of their senseless elders. We close with “Dremlen Feygl” (Birds are Dreaming) a lullaby composed in the Vilna ghetto.  The tragedy of destruction of Jewish (or any) life is described in telling of the fate of one of the countless children left orphaned after each roundup in the ghetto during the war. “At your cradle in the dugout / A stranger sits and sings / Your mama never again/will see her little boy.I have seen your father running / Under a hail of stone / Over the fields sounds his sad cry / Abandoned, all alone.”
 

In the film, it is the youth who paralyzes the Golem, the beast built with the elder’s ambitions and desires of power.  It is the court of Prague who made the Golem and set into motion the unfortunate and all too familiar end of loss.  The Golem is made of humanity and when humanity is lost or when we are desensitized to the treatment and fate of others it takes a child to refocus us and to bring our fate back to its muddy essence.  Life in all of its possibilities is restored and brought to bear on the development of that child.  Will she grow up to be violent and thoughtless or will she infuse her life with meaning and purpose?  Will she rule and tyrannize or will she be a blessing and a source of strength to all around her?  What will she learn and further, what will she teach?

The child meets the orphaned Golem and rightfully restores him to the earth.  Where now will she go? 
 

It is our privilege to breathe life into this project and we thank the folks at the Alamo Drafthouse and the greater community of Austin for supporting The Golem and similar cultural events.  We hope that you enjoy our interpretation of this landmark film.  We celebrate the expression of art in all venues and in the enjoyment of our music we wish harmony, reflection and peace.

Program notes prepared by 

Neil F. Blumofe 
Khas’n (Cantor), Congregation Agudas Achim 
Austin, Texas 
Special thanks to Jacob Solomon 
 

RUBINCHIK’S YIDDISH ENSEMBLE 
Mark Rubin, tuba, string bass, shofar
Ben Saffer, clarinet 
Dr. Don Weeda, accordion
special guest artists: 
Michael Maddux, piano 
Neil Blumofe, voice, shofar

MORE GOLEM LINKS ON THE INTERNET

• Backround on the Golem legends
• Still photos from the 1920 film
• Rava's Golem essay
• The Golem, an introduction 
• The Chevra Kadisha of Prauge, Reb Loew's burial place
• Golem legend for children