Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Seroussi, E. Music in Medieval Ibero Jewish Society
Seroussi, E. Music in Medieval Ibero Jewish Society
No 5 5767/2007
The Mandel Institute of Jewish Studies
The Hebrew University of Jerusalem
Edwin Seroussi
Describing the days immediately preceding the expulsion of the Jews from Spain
in 1492, the chronicler Andrs Bernldez recounts with vivid terms in his Historia
de los Reyes Catlicos Dn Fernando y Da Isabel the scenes seen on the road from
Castile to the ports of departure: E los rabes los ivan esforando e hazan cantar
a las mugeres y mancebos, e taer panderos e adufes por alegrar la gente, e as
salieron de Castilla.1
Music stands out as a very characteristic activity of the Spanish Jews throughout
the medieval period. As the passage by Bernldez underscores, at the most debasing
point of their millenary odyssey in the Iberian Peninsula, they found solace in the
performance of their songs. Not in vain the Judeo-Spanish romance La expulsin
de los judos de Portugal, still chanted in the 20th century by Sephardic Jews in
North Africa, mentions music-making as a distinctive marker of Hispanic Jewish
culture:
Ya me salen a encontrar tres leyes a maravilla,
Los cristianos con sus cruces, los moros a la morisca,
Los judos con sus vihuelas que la ciudad estruja.
Now three marvelous religions come out to welcome me
The Christians with their crosses, the Moors with their Moorish garb,
The Jews with their vihuelas that made the city ring.2
Given the importance of music in the life of the Iberian Jews, a discussion of the
musical culture of the Spanish Jews in the medieval period is warranted, even
though Sephardic musical culture, in its contemporary sense, consolidated in
the aftermath of the expulsions from Spain and Portugal in the late 15th century.
Certainly, Sephardic music as it unveils before our eyes (or rather our ears)
through the oral traditions recorded mostly during the second half of the 20th
1
[Hispania Judaica *5
5767/2007]
Edwin Seroussi
century, has its roots in the music of the Jews of the Iberian Peninsula prior to their
expulsion in 1492. Yet, as we shall observe later, the extent of this link between
the Sephardic musical present and its past has been a constant matter of scholarly
debate. Moreover, this bond is the object of yearning of contemporary audiences
who nurture the idea of the uninterrupted link with the remote Iberian past as a
foremost attribute of present-day Sephardic music. In spite of the strong evidence
concerning the deep changes that occurred in the Sephardic music tradition after
1492, the Iberian Jewish heritage is still cherished as the most enduring among the
medieval music cultures of Al-Andalus. As Reynolds carefully asserts: Modern
traditions of Sephardic Ladino song offer a glimpse of a popular musical tradition
descended, albeit remotely, from the time of Islamic rule in Spain.3
It is clear that we will never be able to retrieve the sounds of the music of the
Jews of Spain (nor has it been our research goal to do so), and thus the music
of Sephardic Spain remains somewhat of an enigma.4 Nonetheless, features of
this music can be gleaned from extant literary sources. This study is, therefore, a
limited attempt to portray aspects of the musical culture of the Jews in Spain that
emerge with relative clarity from the scanty documentation available about Jewish
music in Spain prior to 1492. These features illuminate our understanding of the
extent to which post-exilic Sephardic music is or is not a continuation of medieval
Iberian Jewish music.
[6]
H. Angles, La musique juive dans lEspagne mdival , Yuval I (1968), pp. 4864;
R. Menndez Pidal, Poesia juglaresca y juglares, Madrid 1957 [1924], pp. 139140.
Katz, The Music of Sephardic Spain, pp. 102103. See also the introductory remarks
in A. Shiloah, Round Table IV: The Meeting of Christian, Jewish and Muslim Musical
Cultures on the Iberian Peninsula (prior to 1492), Acta Musicologica 53, 1 (1991), pp.
1420.
[7]
Edwin Seroussi
through the classic historical studies of Iberian Jewry in the Middle Ages by Baer,
Ashtor and Neuman.7 These books were rarely consulted by music scholars.
Although the sources employed by these authors are sometimes difcult to locate,
or their descriptions of Jewish music life are imaginary elaborations based on
incidental pieces of information, they deserve some attention. Also of crucial
importance for musicological research is the detailed study by Simon of mediaeval
commentaries on the Book of Psalms, research which was hardly considered in
musical studies.8 In the face of extant documentation about Jewish musicians in
medieval Spain, Katzs assertion that among the [medieval] Jews the profession
and even the avocation of music was strictly forbidden seems an overstatement.9
Internal sources include documents from within the Jewish communities that
pertain to the practice of music or to ideas about it. Of particular relevance in
this respect are rabbinical responsa on matters such as cantors (e.g. their musical
qualications), the uses of music in the liturgy, and the approach of the religious
authorities to the surrounding non-Jewish musical cultures. Despite the potential
for increasing our understanding of music among the Jews in medieval Spain,
the use of rabbinical responsa is still far from adequate.10 The degree to which
the Jewish involvement in the musical life of the non-Jewish society in medieval
Spain affected the internal musical life of the Jewish communities is a matter that
remains unresolved. Another potentially fruitful source for musical studies about
the Jews from Spain, music iconography, has scarcely been considered.11
The quantity and quality of the literary sources about Jewish music in medieval
Spain vary according to geographical areas and historical periods. There are
more sources about music of the Jews from Catalonia and Aragon than of those
from Castile and Leon. The 14th century appears to be more richly documented
than any previous period in regard to the activities of Jewish musicians in nonJewish contexts. This fact, however, should not be automatically interpreted as
a sign of intensication in the relations between Jews and non-Jews during this
F. Baer, Die Juden im christlichen Spanien, Berlin, vol. 1 Urkunden und Regesten,
part 1 (1929): Aragonien und Navarra; part 2 (1936): Kastilien/ Inquisitionsakten;
E. Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain, A. Klein and J. Machlowitz Klein trans.,
Philadelphia, vol. 3, 1984; A. Neuman, The Jews in Spain: Their Social, Political and
Cultural Life during the Middle Ages, Philadelphia 1944.
8 U. Simon, Four Approaches to the Book of Psalms from Saadya Gaon to Avraham Ibn
Ezra, Ramat-Gan 1982 (Hebrew).
9 Katz, The Music of Sephardic Spain, p. 103.
10 Katz, Ibidem, p. 104; for exceptions see, L. Landman, The Cantor: An Historical
Perspective, New York 1972; A. Shiloah, Jewish Liturgical Singing in Spain and its
Development, H. Beinart ed., Moreshet Sefarad, Jerusalem 1992, pp. 423437.
11 Katz,, Ibidem, p. 108.
[8]
[9]
Edwin Seroussi
as contrafacta in collections of Hebrew sacred songs from the same period.15 Like
Etzion and Weich Shahak, Avenary too looked into the courtly polyphonic settings
of Spanish folksongs, notably the famous Cancionero de Palacio, in order to locate
Spanish melodies mentioned in Hebrew sources. He then tried to set the Hebrew
text under the upper part of the correspondent polyphonic arrangement. A similar
path was taken by Einsenstein who compared Jewish liturgical melodies from
Provence published in the late 19th century with melodies of songs by troubadours
from North-Eastern Spain and South-Western France.16
These comparative studies and attempts to reconstruct in one way or another
the musical repertoires of medieval Jewish Iberia remain, needless to say, highly
speculative. We may conclude with Katz that just how long the [medieval]
peninsular tunes remained in the Sephardic repertoire is difcult to ascertain.17
All evidence shows that the musical culture of the Sephardim after 1492 was
very dynamic and tended to engage in intense dialogues with the music of the
surrounding non-Jewish cultures in their new lands of settlement. This process
intensied for four centuries until it reached its peak towards the turn of the 20th
century. Yet, one cannot atly dismiss the idea that certain aspects of present-day
Sephardic music performance practices and repertoire, particularly in the liturgical
context, show remarkable continuity.
17
18
19
H. Avenary, Ancient Melodies for Sephardi Religious Songs, Otzar yehude Sefarad
3 (1960), pp. 149153 (Hebrew).
J. Einsestein, The Liturgical Chant of Provenal and West Sephardi Jews in
Comparisson with the Song of Troubadours and the Cantigas, Ph.D. diss., Hebrew
Union College, New York 1966; Ibidem, Medieval Elements in the Liturgical Music
of the Jews of Southern France and Northern Spain, Musica Judaica 1 (1975), pp.
3351.
Katz, The Music of Sephardic Spain, p. 109.
H. Sivan, The Invisible Jews of Visigothic Spain, Revue des tudes Juives 159, no.
34 (2000), pp. 369385.
S. Katz, The Jews in the Visigothic and Frankish Kingdoms of Spain and Gaul,
Cambridge, Mass. 1937.
[10]
[11]
Edwin Seroussi
Sephardic liturgy up until the present. Increasing musicalization of the liturgy was
one trigger for the increase in Sephardic rabbinical rulings on music and musical
performance in Jewish contexts during the Islamic period in Spain. Drawing
on antecedents by the Geonim (the heads of Babylonian Jewry under Islam) on
these matters, the Sephardic rabbis rened and expanded the halakhic opinions of
their Eastern predecessors about music making in a Jewish community ruled by
religious law.
Another eld of current research is the intellectual speculation about music
among the medieval Jews of Spain under Islam, in other words their interest
in aspects of music theory transmitted to them through Arab sources. This
scholarly activity revealed the genuine interest of Sephardic Jews in music as
an encompassing cultural phenomenon of psychological, mathematical and
cosmological signicance. A continuation of trends already present among erudite
Jews of the Eastern Caliphate during the post-Talmudic period, speculating about
musics powers and emotional effects eventually had practical consequences,
especially when music became related to the practices of Jewish mystics in
Spain.
In short, the roots of the Jewish musical culture of Al-Andalus must be
searched for in the traditions imported from the Eastern Caliphate, particularly
from the powerful Jewish center of Abassid Baghdad. During the heyday of the
Eastern Caliphate, the Jews became procient in the theory and performance
of the developing Arabic court music. Responsa by leaders of the academies in
Babylonia concerning the practice of secular music among Jews or the famous
passage by R. Seadiya Gaon on the Arabic rhythmic modes (drawn from Al Kindi)
in his Emunot ve-deot of 933 are testimonies of this involvement.23 Cantors in AlAndalus continued the Eastern trend of singing Hebrew songs set to secular Arabic
tunes, a practice already customary by the mid-11th century. Such practice stirred
the very well known response by R. Yitsh aq ben Yaaqob Alfasi (near Fez, 1013Lucena, 1103), in one of the earliest rabbinical expositions on this topic from Al23
I. Adler, Hebrew Writings Concerning Music in Manuscripts and Printed Books from
Geonic Times up to 1800 (RISM B IX2), Munchen 1975 (hereafter HWCM), no. 630;
H. G. Farmer, Saadyah Gaon on the Influence of Music, London 1943; U. Haxen,
Saadya Gaon on Music, Jewish Studies at the End of the 20th Century: Proceedings
of the 6th EAJS Congress, Toledo 1998, J. Tarragona Borrs and A. Senz-Badillos
eds., Leiden-Boston-Kln, vol. I (1999): Biblical, Rabbinical, and Medieval Studies,
pp. 406413; Ibidem, The Captions Fi Wazn and Fi Lahn in Strophic Poetry,
Zutot (Amsterdam) 1 (2001), pp. 9196; Simon, Four Approaches, pp. 31ff; A.
Shiloah, Musical Terminology in Medieval Jewish Literature, Teshrt laAvishur:
Studies in the Bible and the Ancient Near East, in Hebrew and Semitic Languages.
Festschrift Presented to Prof. Yitzhak Avishur on the Occasion of his 65th Birthday, M.
Heltzer and M. Malul eds., Tel-Aviv and Haifa 2004, pp. 341347.
[12]
24 Yitsh aq ben Yaaqob Alfasi, Sheelot u-teshuvot, Warsaw 1884, no. 281 (Hebrew).
25 E. Fleischer, The Influence of Choral Elements on the Formation and Development
of Piyyut Genres, Yuval 4 (1974), pp. 1848 (Hebrew).
26 C. del Valle Rodrguez, El Divn Potico de Dunash Ben Labrat: La introduccin de
la mtrica rabe, Madrid 1988.
27 Dunash Ben Labrat, Shirim, Nehemia Aloni ed., Jerusalem 1947, p. 64 (Hebrew); Del
Valle Rodrguez, El Divn Potico de Dunash Ben Labrat, pp. 195199.
[13]
Edwin Seroussi
since at least the 6th century and many types of strophic forms were known there
long before the development of the Andalusian forms.
Allony proposed that Dunash was not only a scholar and poet but probably an
accomplished cantor as well, who may have imported Eastern musical traditions
to Spain.28 Another well-known case of a cantor migrating from East to West
is the Baghdadian paytan Yosef Al-Baradani, a member of a distinguished and
inuential family of synagogue performers, who reached North Africa in the late
10th century.29
[14]
31 For succinct and updated critical reviews of this issue see, O. J. Zwartjes, Love Songs
from al-Andalus: History, Structure and Meaning of the Kharja, Leiden, New York,
Kln, 1997; T. Rosen, The Muwashshah, in The Literature of Al-Andalus, M. R.
Menocal, R. P. Scheindlin and M. Sells (eds), Cambridge 2000, pp. 165189.
32 For a summary see, H. Schirmann, The History of Hebrew Poetry in Muslim Spain, E.
Fleischer ed., Jerusalem 1995, pp. 7376 (Hebrew) and E. Fleischer, On the Musical
Agenda of the Sephardi Revolution of the Form of the Medieval Hebrew Song,
Yuval 7 (2001): Studies in Honor of Israel Adler, E. Schleifer and E. Seroussi eds.,
pp. 522 (Hebrew). See also the observations on music in Y. Tobi, Kiruv u-dhiyya:
ha-shira ha-ivrit veha-shira ha-aravit beyemei ha-beinayim, Haifa 2000, pp. 59, 166,
196, 290, 293, 323.
33 A. Z. Idelsohn. Jewish Music in its Historical Development, New York 1929, pp.
110ff; H. Avenary, Music, Encyclopaedia Judaica 12 (1972), pp. 593595 and
Shiloah, Jewish Liturgical Singing in Spain, pp. 428429; see also Sh. Morag and
A. Shiloah, Meter and Melody in the Religious Poems of the Yemenite and Sephardi
Communities, in Le-rosh Yosef: Mehqarim be- hokhmat Yisrael Teshurat hoqarah
la-rav Yosef Qapah, Y. Tobi ed., Jerusalem 1995, pp. 435456.
[15]
Edwin Seroussi
even into liturgical texts in prose.34 In the words of Idelsohn: rhythmical music
emancipated itself from the metrical impress of the poetry.35
As a consequence of this novelty, the melody of a certain poem could be adopted
for the singing of another poem with the same meter and form. This technique of
recycling melodies of existing poems in new ones is known, in the specic context
of the muwashshah, as murada. From the earliest manuscripts of Hebrew
strophic poetry from Spain there are references (in the form of superscriptions)
to existing songs. According to Fleisher, this technique of referring to the music
of another poem may have been known to the Hebrew poets of the East at the
very early stages in the development of the piyyut, for this was the custom of the
Byzantine konkatyon.36 The position of Fleischer recalls aspects of the Latin
thesis of the origin of strophic poetry in Spain. Daz Esteban discusses extensively
the technique of contrafactum, the use of refrains and of profane melodies, in
medieval Latin poetry in relation to the origins of the muwashshah.37
Regardless of the theses concerning the origins of murada, the fact is that
musical references in the captions of piyyutim from the Eastern school of Hebrew
poetry employed since the earliest stages a formula that opened with the Arabic
terms wazn (according to the meter of) or lahn (according to the meter or
melody of) followed by the rst few words of the model poem. Haxen contended
that both terms may have been originally interchangeable and refer exclusively
to a rhythmic pattern of the text rather than to a succession of pitches, i.e. to a
melody.38 While this hypothesis may be correct in the East until the 10th century,
it is clear that from the 11th century on captions like these appearing in Spanish
Hebrew poetry in Al-Andalus and employing almost invariably the term lahn
referred to a melody in both its rhythmic and melodic aspects. Eventually lahan
became a Hebrew term for melody and continued to be used in this sense in
captions of piyyutim for hundreds of years. More rarely the term noam, a Hebrew
word related to the Arabic term naghma (melody or musical mode), was employed
for similar purposes among Sephardic Jews.
Stern also maintained that the musical aspect of the muwashshah was the main
stimulus for the technique of imitation (murada). This central role of music
in the making of Andalusian Arabic and Hebrew strophic poetry is the basis for
[16]
[17]
Edwin Seroussi
trait of synagogue music in Spain is found in the commentary on the Book of
Psalms by Avraham Ibn Ezra (10891164). As Simon has eloquently shown, Ibn
Ezra interpreted the superscriptions of the biblical Psalms as codes referring to
the melodies to which each song ought to be performed.44 More specically, in
his commentary to the superscription of Psalm 7 Ibn Ezra writes that the term
shigayion found in the title refers in his opinion to the melody (noam) of a piyyut
whose rst word is shigayion, as the scribes of Spain write at the beginning of
the piyyut [the name of] the melody of a well known piyyut. Extant manuscripts of
Hebrew sacred poetry from medieval Spain provide ample evidence of the practice
described by Ibn Ezra. Simon further argues that in Spain the melodic codes were
usually determined by the copyists or editors of the manuscripts rather than by the
poets themselves.45 Yet there are cases, especially in the muwashshahas, where
the poet himself intentionally selected the melody.46 While in the composition of
secular poetry the Hebrew poets borrowed Arabic tunes freely, in the context of
religious strophic poetry these headings almost exclusively refer to the melodies
of other Hebrew poems rather than to those of Arabic songs.
The musical facet of the composition of a new muwashshah is illustrated by a
famous letter addressed by the young Yehudah Halevi (c. 10751141) to Moshe
Ibn Ezra (ca 10601139) upon his imminent arrival from his home in Christian
Spain to Muslim Al-Andalus. This letter challenges the at rejection of the
musico-rhythmical thesis. Discovered by Davidson and Abramson, published in
its full version by Fleischer and discussed by Simon and Senz Badillos, the letter
describes a real life situation in which Halevi, on his journey to Granada, is invited
to a wine party in which an assembly of Hebrew poets is challenged to imitate an
extant muwashshah with its kharja by a distinguished local poet (Prince of the
Armies) whom Fleischer has identied as Yosef Ibn Tzadik:47
I was forced into composing a song [ve-ethakema le-naggen] in the drinking
gathering of gifted poets. The model of their song [neginatam, lit., their
melody] was a composition by the Prince of the Armies and the opening of
44 Simon, Four Approaches, pp.144ff.
45 Ibidem, pp. 228ff.
46 S. M. Stern, Imitations of Arabic muwashshahat in the Hebrew Poetry of Spain,
Tarbiz 18 (1947), pp. 166186 (Hebrew).
47 Sh. Abramson, Iggeret Rav Yehudah Halevy lerabbi Moshe Ibn Ezra, in Sefer
Haim Schirmann, Sh. Abramson and A. Mirsky eds., Jerusalem 1970, pp. 397403
(Hebrew); E. Fleischer, On R. Yehuda Halevi and His First Contacts with R. Moshe
Ibn Ezra, Kiryat Sefer 61 (1986/7), pp.: 898900, 902ff (Hebrew); Simon, Four
Approaches, pp. 232233; A. Senz Badillos, Las muwashshah at de Mosheh Ibn
Ezrah, in Poesia Estrfica: Actas del Primer Congreso Internacional, F. Corriente
and A. Senz Badillos eds., Madrid 1991, pp. 298299.
[18]
[19]
Edwin Seroussi
manuscripts. This was the case of Yehoshua ben Eliyahus references to Arabic
muwashshahs in his copy of the diwan by Avraham Ibn Ezra.49 Yahalom found
that the same Yehoshua ben Eliyahu also added names of lehanim of Arabic
muwashshahas at his own initiative to his copy of the diwan of Yehudah Halevi
which he edited soon after the death of the poet.50
The awareness of the dependence of Hebrew strophic poetry and its music on
Arabic models is expounded by Moshe Ibn Ezra in his important treatise on Hebrew
poetics, Kitab al-muhadara wal-mudhakara (post-1135). After stating that the
goal of his treatise is to expose the question of how two nations, i.e. the Hebrew
and the Arab, are parallel in most aspects, because the rst imitates the second
particularly in what pertains to poetry, he adds that he who wants to learn the
science of music, there is nothing wrong in learning it after studying grammar, as
music participates with grammar in creating a song. Ibn Ezra adds (following
Ibn Qutayba) that while for the Greeks all poetry set to music was poetry, for the
Arabs all poetry set to music is poetry but not all music composition is poetry.51
This passage apparently implies the existence of pure instrumental music genres.
Ibn Ezras submission of Hebrew poetry to Arabic music culture derives from the
inuential epistle on music by Ihwan al-Safa that he quotes extensively in his own
treatise.52
When it was chanted, secular strophic poetry in Hebrew might have been
accompanied by musical instruments in unison. The use of instruments in the
performance of muwashshahs is testied by Ibn Sana al-Mulk in his Dar el-Tiraz
where he mentions the urgn, literally the organ.53 It appears however that alMulk employs this term as a generic name for any musical instrument.54 Needless
to say, strophic songs within the Jewish liturgy were exclusively vocal, as musical
instruments were banned from the synagogue services.
[20]
[21]
Edwin Seroussi
oral traditions, such as Biblical cantillation or Psalm tunes, is thus antithetical to
the aesthetics of the new, metered music.
Performing strophic poetry in the synagogue implied a new element, the active
participation of the congregation in the singing of refrains. While treating the
etymology of the terms piyyut and pizmon, R. Yosef Halevi Ibn Migash (1077
1141), the most prolic rabbinical authority of his time who lived for thirtyeight years at the important center of Jewish learning in Lucena, shows a vivid
awareness of the performance of strophic poetry during his time. The term pizmon
is dened by Ibn Migash as that which is repeated, that is, said many times over
adding that an individual who repeats himself over and over is called pizmana.58
He relates the concept of the repeated refrain also to the poetic term kiklara which
Ibn Migash denes as a repetitive structure similar to the pizmon.59
The active role of the synagogue congregation in the chanting of strophic
poetry is also clear from one of the earliest and most often quoted descriptions
of the muwashshah in Hebrew by the Egyptian philologist and exegete Tanh um
Yerushalmi (13th century): The matla is called [in Hebrew] pizmon because
it is sung as a response [by the congregation] as the reciter ends each stanza.60
In Fleischers opinion, since the beginning of the history of the piyyut, the term
pizmon implied the musical section of the poem, more precisely the sections that
the congregation or the choir were asked to sing according to melodies well known
to them.61
The singing of the piyyut in the synagogue was a matter of controversy between
Jewish authorities in Spain since its inception. The phenomenon of singing piyyutim
within the normative prayers disrupted the ow of the services, expanded it, and
distracted the congregation. In Al-Andalus, where the performance of strophic
poetry in secular contexts was familiar to the public, the opposition to the singing
of religious strophic poetry in the synagogue was forceful. Although the order of
58
59
60
61
[22]
62 Samaual Al-Maghrib, Ifhm al-Yahd Silencing the Jews, Moshe Perlmann ed.,
New York 1964, p. 57.
[23]
Edwin Seroussi
However, the practice of singing piyyutim during the prayer service, either by
the cantor alone or by the cantor and the congregation in alternation, was constantly
challenged in Muslim Spain by critics who perceived it as an obstruction to the
smooth reading of the canonized liturgy. Responding to these challenges, R. Yosef
Ibn Migash ruled clearly in favor of the singing of piyyutim within the framework
of the normative prayers. His responsum provides a glimpse into the performance
practices of his time:
As to your question whether the piyyutim that the hazzanim used to recite
and to introduce within the blessing, such as magen and mehayyeh and
yotzer are allowed, the answer [is that] if the hazzan returned to the subject
of the blessing before its hatimah (ending formulae) it is permitted, and
no one among us will protest this practice especially since this is a custom
that has spread through all the world, and this was the opinion of my rabbi
the Rav [Yitsh aq Alfasi] ztzl.63
Later on, Maimonides, who in many of his writings referred to musical and poetic
matters, opposed the singing of piyyutim in the framework of the prayer, especially
because their melodies distracted the worshipers:64
The piyyutim are additions and you have added many things unrelated to
the prayer, in addition to their meter and their melody, and the prayer stops
being a prayer and it becomes a farce. This is the greatest reason for the lack
of proper concentration during prayer (hisaron hakavvanah). The masses
Yosef Halevy Ibn Migash, Sheelot u-teshuvot, no. 87. The 16th century Salonika edition
of Ibn Migash response adds: [This matter] is brought by the luminary of our days the
Rav Birkei Yosef [i.e. Yosef Caro] Horah hayyim, siman 112, 115.
64 Y. Blidstein, Prayer in the Legal Thought of Maimonides, Jerusalem, Beer Sheva
1994; B. Cohen, The Responsum of Maimonides Concerning Music, Jewish
Music Journal 2 (1935), no. 2, pp. 17, reprinted in B. Cohen, Law and Tradition in
Judaism, New York 1959, pp. 167181; H. G. Farmer, Maimonides on Listening to
Music, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, Part IV (October 1933), pp. 866884,
reprinted as Maimonides on Listening to Music, Beardsen 1941 (Mediaeval Jewish
Tractates on Music 1); I. Goldziher, Das Gutachten des Maimonides ber Gesang
und Musik, Monatsschrift fr Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judenthums 22
(1873), pp. 174180; J. T. Monroe, Maimonides on the Mozarabic Lyric (A Note
on the Muwashshah a), La Cornica 17 (1989), no. 2, pp. 1832; H. Schirmann,
Maimonides and the Hebrew poetry, Moznayyim 3 (1935), pp. 433436 (Hebrew);
E. Seroussi, More on Maimonides on Music, Zutot (Amsterdam) 2 (2003), pp. 126
135; A. Shiloah, Mamonide et la Musique, Prsence juive au Maghreb: Hommage
Ham Zafrani, N. S. Serfaty and J. Tedghi eds., Paris 2004, pp. 497506.
63
[24]
[25]
Edwin Seroussi
to set [the song] to [the tune of] Mahalath [Psalms 88, 1] the daughter of Ishmael
[after Genesis 28, 9].71 One of these lehanim in Arabic used by Abulaa is Grib
alhasin, and it is remarkable that a mode of the same name is still extant in the
Andalusian music of Morocco and Algeria.72 In another superscription this poet
specically indicated that his Hebrew poem is an imitation of the Arabic model in
its meter (al-arud), rhyme (qaya) and technique or form (sana). (The same term
is still employed in the Andalusian music of Morocco in the sense of song).73
Rabbinical sources from later periods clearly testify that by the 15th century
there was a growing trend to adopt melodies from non-Jewish sources, by now
the melodies of songs in Romanic languages such as Castilian, Catalan, and
Aragonese, rather than make use of melodies of extant Hebrew songs. The Catalan
philosopher, grammarian, Biblical commentator, philosopher and physician
Yitsh aq ben Moshe Halevi (Profayt Duran, known under the acronym of Efodi,
born in Perpignan around the mid-fourteenth century, died c. 1414) praised in his
Maase Efod (completed in 1403) the superior power of Biblical cantillation, a
type of music that appeals to the mind, over the singing of strophic poetry with
melodies adopted from the non-Jewish cultures. These foreign melodies appeal
only to the senses and Duran warns against their use for only the music of the
Torah can lead to perfection and happiness.74 In his approach Duran echoes
Yehudah Halevis passage on music in the Kuzari discussed above. However,
this disapproving attitude to Gentile music must be viewed in the specic sociopolitical context in which Duran lived, the intellectual milieu of Northern Spain
and Catalonia that was marked by anti-Christian polemics and a profound sense of
the narrowing spaces allotted to Jews.75
R. Shimon ben Zemah Duran (Majorca, 1361 Algiers, 1444) was more
explicit in his critique of the widespread practice of adopting foreign melodies
in the singing of Hebrew strophic poetry. In his Magen Avot (The Shield of the
Fathers) he distinguishes three types of music: musical speech, teamim (Biblical
71
72
73
74
75
[26]
[27]
Edwin Seroussi
To circumvent the lack of tangible sources about the Andalusian musical
style, some scholars have proposed a comparative approach based on the study of
performance practices of Andalusian strophic poetry in the contemporary music
traditions of North Africa (usually called al-ala al-andalusiyya, i.e., Andalusian
instrumental music). This hypothesis was rst advanced by Stern.79 Since then
many scholars have explored this idea, as more information became available on
the contemporary music of Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia and Libya, as well as on
the performance of the medieval and modern muwashshahs in the Middle East,
especially in the venerable tradition of Aleppo in Syria.80 This interest was, of
course, triggered by the survival of fragments of medieval strophic poems in the
manuscript compendia of poetry for singing used by contemporary Arab musicians.
Following this evidence, Schippers proposed to consider the possibility that
the present-day recordings of so-called Andalusian muwashshahs can shed light
upon some questions involving muwashshah tradition, especially with regard
to the performance of the songs, despite the fact that only a handful of ancient
muwashshahs gure in the modern collections.81
In light of this increasing interest by scholars of Andalusian Arabic and Hebrew
strophic poetry in the possible survival of old musical practices in the modern
repertoires, it is surprising that Jewish musical traditions of Andalusian origins
were hardly considered.82 Strophic poetry was, as mentioned above, introduced
79
80
81
82
[28]
[29]
Edwin Seroussi
a Jewish musician called Al-Mansur al-Yahudi, who served at the court of the
Umayyid caliph Al-Hakim I in Cordova, was commissioned by his benefactor
to travel to Algeciras to greet Zyriab. Upon Zyriabs arrival in Al-Andalus, the
news about the death of the caliph (822) reached Algeciras. Al Mansur persuaded
Zyriab to offer his services to the new caliph Abd al-Rahman II.85 In spite of the
questionable contents of this narrative, the inclusion of a Jew in a major role in the
mythical construction of the chain of events that led to the establishment of the
distinctive Andalusian school of Arabic music cannot be underestimated.
The case of Al-Mansur is not an isolated episode. There are other references
to distinguished Jewish musicians serving at the courts of the Muslim rulers of
Al-Andalus. Among them is the renowned Jewish court musician from twelfthcentury Cordova, Yitsh aq ibn Shimon, who marveled with his composition
of melodies in different styles and methods, and besides was a good singer and
instrumentalist.86 Avenary maintained that this musician also served at the court
of Hasdai Ibn Shaprut in Cordova, while Farmer tied him to no less than Ibn Bajja.87
One has to bear in mind that at this time Cordova was still the main training
center of music in al-Andalus, especially for singing and dancing girls, a favorite
entertainment at court.88 A source from a later period (late 13th century) attests
also to the existence of mujannatn, effeminate singers who imitated womens
85
86
87
88
Muslim Spain, in The Legacy of Muslim Spain, S. Kh. Jayyusi ed., Leiden, New York,
Kln 1994, vol. 2, pp. 555579.
A. Shiloah, Al-Mansur al-Yahudi, Encyclopaedia Judaica 1 (1972), col. 660 based on
Al Maqqari, Nafh at-tb min gun al_Andalus - Analectes sur lhistoire et la litrature
des Arabes dEspagne, Leyde 18551861, vol. 2, pp. 85ff; Farmer, A History of
Arabian Music, pp. 129, 131; and R. Dozy, Historie des Musulmans dEspagne, Leyde
1932, vol. 1, p. 311.
J. Ribera y Tarrag, Music in Ancient Arabia and Spain being la Msica de las
Cantigas, California 1929, reprint New York 1970. The quote of Ribera is from MS
80 by Ibn Said. This is probably the manuscript of the Academy for History in
Madrid that Ribera quotes in other of his writings. Ibn Said may be identified as
the philologist Ali ibn Musa Ibn Said (12131286) whose work Kitab al-Mughrib
fi hula l-Maghreb is well known. See, C. Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischer
Literatur, Leiden 1942, vol. 1, 336337. A. Shiloah, The Jews of Spain and the
Quest for Cultural Indentity, Revista de Musicologa 16 (1993), no. 1 [= Actas del XV
Congreso de la Sociedad Internacional de Musicologa vol. 1], p. 381 mentions this
Jewish musician too but without crediting Ribera as the source.
Avenary, Music, col. 596; Farmer, A History of Arabian Music, p. 212.
H. Prs, La posie andalouse en arabe classique au XIe sicle: Ses aspects gnraux
et sa valeur documentaire, Paris 1937, pp. 383ff, 388389. Singing girls (qaynah) were
a vital component in the Abbasid culture in Baghdad and this trend continued in alAndalus. See the epistle by Abu Uthman Amnr b. Bah r al-Jah iz (776869), translated
as The Epistle on Singing Girls of Jahiz, A.F. Beeston ed., Warmister 1980.
[30]
[31]
Edwin Seroussi
passages from Al-Farabis inuential Ihs al-ulm appear quoted in Hygiene
of the Soul (Tibb al-nufs) by Yosef b. Yehudah Ibn Aqnin (11501220), a
disciple of Maimonides and in Reshit hokhma by Shem Tov b. Yosef Ibn Falaqera
(12251295). Falaqeras Sefer hamevaqqesh (Book of the Seeker) of 1263 is
one of the Hebrew sources closest to the epistle of Ihwan al-saf.94 Another Arab
theoretician of music assiduously quoted by medieval Iberian Jews was Ibn Sina.95
Interspersed in these passages on music theory are allusions to current musical
practices. For example, Moshe Ibn Ezra interpolates in his Maqlat al-hadqah
some practical observations on the relationship between strophic poetry and its
musical performance that brings to mind the passage on music in the Kuzari by
Yehudah Halevi.96
Further evidence of the involvement of Andalusian Jews in contemporary
Arabic music comes from the period of decline in Arab cultural prominence in
Iberia. In Maimonides commentary to the Mishnah Arakhin 2, 3, the musical
interests of the Great Eagle come to light. In this passage he discusses the
musical instruments used in the Second Temple of Jerusalem during Festivals.
It clearly attests to the sages awareness of the musical practices of his time, as
well as the existence of a specic musical form, al-tiyah, that has survived in
the modern Andalusian music from Morocco and Algeria. The function of this
instrumental genre is to introduce the singer, who sings the song accompanied in
unison by the instruments. The Arabic instruments mentioned by Maimonides in
this passage, the mizmar and the ud, comprised the basic ensemble of his time in
Andalusia and North Africa. Maimonides remarks probably reect contemporary
Jewish musical practice as well.97 Hereby follows a translation of this important
musical passage by Maimonides:
[Mishnah] They did not sound less than twenty-one blasts in the Temple
[Commentary] Nevel is an instrument in the form of a water-bag with
strings and one plays on it [on the strings; Maimonides has the Arabic ud in
mind as seen later in this passage]
And halil is an instrument famous among all, i.e. the mizmar.
And abuv is the pipe of a ute, i.e. the thin pipe [i.e. the reed] at the
head [of the ute]. And the reed of the pipe [abuv shel qaneh] is the small
pipe at the head of the ute.
94
A. Shiloah, The Sources of Shem Tov Ibn Falaqera, Fourth World Congress of
Jewish Studies, Jerusalem 1978, vol. 2, pp. 373377 (Hebrew).
95 Adler, HWCM, nos. 390, 400, 410, 430, 440, 500.
96 Shiloah, The Musical Passage, p. 222.
97 Seroussi, More on Maimonides on Music.
[32]
[33]
Edwin Seroussi
century. This development eventually led to the inux of the melodies of these
folksongs, many of which still originated within the framework of an Arabic
culture, into the realm of religious singing. The Hebrew contrafactum of melodies
of folksongs in Romance languages is a well-documented phenomenon in the
post-expulsion period too. New documentation shows that we can now trace this
phenomenon back to as early as the late 14th century.
[34]
100 Menahem ben Aharon Ibn Zerah , Tsedah la-derekh, Warsaw 1880, reprint Tel Aviv
1963, chapter 37, p. 48.
101 Yitsh aq ben Sheshet Perfet, Sefer sheelot u-teshuvot, D. Metzger ed., Jerusalem 1993,
no. 219.
102 Shelomo ben Adret, Sheelot u-teshuvot ha-Rashba, Jerusalem 19972005, 1, 452; 3,
288; Yitsh aq ben Sheshet Perfet, Sheelot u-teshuvot, nos. 84, 334.
103 Yitsh aq ben Sheshet Perfet, Ibidem, 37, 334.
104 Discussed at length by R. Langer, To Worship God Properly: Tensions between
Liturgical Custom and Halakhah in Judaism, Cincinnati 1998, pp. 206209.
105 Shelomo ben Adret, Sheelot u-teshuvot 1, 215, mentioned in E. Werner, The Doxology
in Synagogue and Church: A Liturgico-Musical Study, HUCA 19 (1946), p. 327; see
also Shiloah, Jewish Liturgical Singing in Spain, p. 431.
[35]
Edwin Seroussi
embellished with additional chants. For example, on the Sabbath the presence of a
bridegroom among the worshipers was announced with a special song.106
In the early 14th century this expanded musicality of the synagogues of Spain
caught the attention of the prominent Ashkenazi rabbi R. Asher ben Yeh iel (ca.
12501327) who was living in Castile. R. Asher noted in one of his responsa,
in what appears to be a comparison between the Sephardic liturgy and his own
Ashkenazi liturgical background, that in Christian Spain the liturgy was largely
sung by an expert hazzan, actively accompanied by an intrusive congregation in
a rather disordered manner.
In my opinion one has to reprimand all those who raise their voices in
the Eighteen [Benedictions] and say with the hazzan the Eighteen and the
qeddushah The cantor prays [the Eighteen] on behalf of all those who are
not acquainted with the prayers and those who sing [mezammerim] along
with the hazzan act frivolously.
It is forbidden to say qaddish with the cantor and one has to pay
attention to the hazzan and respond Amen yehe sheme rabah after him and
the same in the qeddushah, the hazzan says naqdishakh ve-naaritzakh
etc. until he arrives to qaddosh and [only] then the congregation answers
qaddosh.
And also I heard everywhere [in Spain] that they say Yitaleh ve-yishtabah
when the hazzan says barekhu and this is why the hazzan prolongs [the
singing of barekhu].107
Another special task of the hazzan in medieval Spain was the public recitation of
the scriptures on Sabbaths and Holy Days. By the 11th century most young men
in Spain could not properly read the scriptures during services. R. Yehudah ben
Barzillai ha-Nasi al-Bargeloni testies that in this generation the cantor reads [the
Biblical portion from the scroll] and the oleh [a member of the congregation who
is granted the honor of reading the Torah in public] remains silent.108 According to
the same source, the cantor sometimes read together with the oleh in order to help
him, or whispered to him the proper reading. However, even ignorant bridegrooms
were trained to read a portion from the Torah.109
106 Shelomo ben Adret, Ibidem, 469; Neuman, The Jews in Spain, p. 158.
107 Asher ben Yehiel, Sheelot u-teshuvot, Vilna 1885, IV, no. 19. See also S.B.Freehof,
Home rituals and the Spanish synagogues, Studies and Essays in Honor of Abraham
A. Neuman, M. Ben-Horin, B.D.Wienryb and S. Zeitlin eds., Leiden and Philadelphia,
1962, pp. 215217, especially pp. 221222.
108 R. Yehudah ben Barzillai ha-Nasi al-Bargeloni, Sefer ha-ittim, p. 264, no. 178.
109 Duran, Tashbetz II, 39; Neuman, The Jews in Spain, p. 158.
[36]
[37]
Edwin Seroussi
despicable hazzanim who halt in the middle of the blessings with lascivious songs
contaminated with lust and metered with the fancy meters of the Christians and
the Muslims. Alamis testimony includes the familiar accusations regarding the
use of metered Arabic melodies by the cantors in order to please the audience,
a feature that leads in his opinion to idolatry. And the people and their leaders
Alami adds,
do not pay any attention to the selection of their cantors, to their desirable
qualities and the majority, except me, are driven by the pleasant voice [of
the cantors] that reaches their ears and they hear the voice but the image they
do not see except for the voices, they do not care for the [cantors] minimal
understanding [of the prayer text] or for their low [moral] standards, and add
to that that I found among them even some who are suspected of adultery.114
Although Alamis critical approach must taken with caution, the picture that
emerges from his portrayal is clear. The beauty of the voices of the cantors and
the use of foreign melodies were, by the late 14th century, standard features of the
Sephardic liturgy.
By the 15th century the musicalization of the liturgy was perceived as a xed
feature and a desirable religious duty, as explained by R. Yosef Albo in his
inuential work Sefer ha-Iqarim, completed in Soria (Castile) in 1425:
The rule is that the prayer needs three features in order to be acceptable
The words of the prayer must be pleasant to the hearer and not tiresome.
For this reason, metered songs (shirim) and piyyutim and supplications
(baqqashot) have been added to the prayers because all the requirements
mentioned are contained in them, and they correspond to music (le-niggunei
ha-musiqa) besides, for the denition of a poem is that it is a composition
in which the parts bear relation to and have connection with each other, and
it expresses the idea of the composer in brief and pleasant words, metrically
arranged in accordance with the music. 115
This compelling testimony, which includes one of the earliest uses of the
word music in an Hebrew text in its very modern sense (i.e. in reference to
performance practice and not to speculative theory), shows the extent to which the
114 Rabbi Shelomo Ibn Lah mish Alami, Iggeret musar o Iggeret ha-tokheha ve-ha-emuna,
ed. A.B. Haberman, Jerusalem 1946, pp. 25 and 50 respectively.
115 Yosef Albo, Sefer ha-Iqarim, ed. princeps, Soncino 1485. Translation based on Joseph
Albo, Sefer ha-Ikkarim, translated by I. Husik, Philadelphia, 1946, 4:1, pp. 210211.
[38]
[39]
Edwin Seroussi
to the rights of cantors to their post.123 One of these responsa relates to a crisis
created when the hereditary post of the hazzan was challenged by members of the
congregation of the great synagogue of Huesca around the year 1300. A careful
reading of the arguments included in the presentation of this case to Ben Adret
reveals the inner workings of an Iberian synagogue in the early 14th century. Once
again, voice quality emerges as a major concern in the selection of cantors.
A question from Reuben who sued Shimon and said to him: You were
shaliah tsibbur in the synagogue of Huesca for thirty-eight years and now
you are old and your hair is gray and you cannot serve the community as you
used to do before. In your place you gave us your son and he is not worthy
of your ofce because he does not have a pleasant voice, and I and some of
the members of the above-mentioned synagogue do not want him to lead
the prayers. If you can still lead the prayers, that would be better for us, but
if you do not, respect our wish and retire to your home. Shimon [i.e. the
cantor] responded: it is possible that I have exhausted my strength and that
my eyes are less sharp due to age and that I cannot see and read the Torah
scroll as I used to. Yet on all other matters that pertain to the shaliah tsibbur
my energies are as strong as they used to be. I plead to the congregation who
prays in the synagogue to be kind to me as it was to my forefathers, because
my father and my grandfather served your fathers and your grandfathers
all the days of their life and in spite of the fact that my above mentioned
son does not have a pleasant voice, he fullls the role of my forefathers
in all other matters, and reads the Torah scroll in my place and writes all
that I have to say to the public in order to avoid the infringement of the
ordinance [taqqana] that I have inherited from the communitys forefathers
of blessed memory. They were the ones who appointed me to the post of
shaliah tsibbur for all the days of my life in agreement and [according to]
their choice. Nobody besides me, or whoever I appoint to replace me, can
serve on any matter or affair related to the jurisdiction of the shaliah tsibbur
as it is written in the text of the ordinance. Indeed the benevolence and
the will of the majority of the congregation, about one hundred and fty
members, show mercy and compassion for the memory of my forefathers
who were the shelihei tsibbur of their fathers and of them. Their wish is
that my son assists me on all matters referred to above for all the days of
my life. The people that you represent do not number more than ten. This is
the text of the ordinance [relating to the functions of the cantor in Huesca]:
The congregation of the big synagogue of Huesca agrees unanimously
and without any exception. to appoint a cantor [hazzan] to serve them
123 Shelomo ben Adret, Sheelot u-teshuvot 1, 300, 450; 3, 428
[40]
[41]
Edwin Seroussi
gifted youngsters occasionally lled the post of cantor. The lineage of the cantor
was important too. Moreover, this responsum is one of the clearest testimonies
that musicality was a main criterion for the selection of cantors in 14th-century
Castile:
[Question] A thirteen year old boy can lead the prayers sporadically but he
should not be appointed as a permanent shaliah tsibbur until he has a full
beard. [Response] Concerning what you wrote that it was the custom of
these places to appoint as shaliah tsibbur members of the most undignied
families, this behavior is a debasing of the act of public prayer, as if it is not
worthy of the best of Israel and is just one of the worthless crafts. God forbid
that the worship of the Lord shall be turned into just a craft I too, from the
day I arrived here [in Castile], have been enraged with the hazzanim of this
land, but I was not upset by your shaliah tsibbur whose appointment you
based on the status of his family. This is [however] not proper in the eyes
of God [the maqom], for if the shaliah tsibbur is of high social status but is
evil, what is the usefulness of his service to God. If he is from a non-Jewish
family and yet is righteous, peace be upon those near whose seed comes from
afar. Yet I was furious because the hazzanim of this country take pleasure in
listening to their own pleasant voices, and even if the hazzan is all evil, the
community does not hesitate to appoint him if he is a sweet singer .
You said that they have appointed a hazzan who does not yet have a full
beard to lead prayers all week at the synagogue, relying upon the fact that
they have another hazzan who leads prayers on the Sabbaths and Mondays
and Thursdays, [days when the Torah is read in the synagogue]. This is a
mistake because he is considered to be a permanent hazzan since he was
appointed to lead prayers despite the fact that there is someone else who said
that he was appointed as well. However, he can lead prayers occasionally
without being appointed as long as he says that he has grown two hairs [of
his beard]. 127
The willingness of the communities to engage as cantors individuals with a
good voice even if they had a dubious background is exemplied in a responsum
addressed from Spain to the Exilarch in Babylonia, about a cantor who frequented
brothels and, according to another testimony, had homosexual relations with a
youth.
To R. Yosef: Reuven, a Cohen [from a priestly family] came to our
congregation many years ago and we appointed him cantor [shatz]. After
127 Asher ben Yeh iel, Sheelot u-teshuvot, Jerusalem 1965, vol. 4, p. 22.
[42]
128 Teshuvot geone mizrah u-maarav, J. Mller ed., Berlin 1888, reprint Jerusalem
1966, p. 41b, no. 171. According to some scholars the question is addressed to R.
Yosef Ibn Abitur. see, Matti Huss, The Maqama of the Cantor: Its Possible Sources
in Relation with Medieval Homoerotic Literature, Tarbiz 72 (2002/3), no. 12, pp.
197244, especially pp. 202203, note 29 and pp. 209ff. (Hebrew). Huss discusses at
lenght the issue of the cantors sexual behavior, a theme that was severly censured in
rabbinical sources.
129 Ibn Migash, Sheelot u-teshuvot, 95.
[43]
Edwin Seroussi
music-making in medieval Spain. The struggle of the rabbis to prevent this sacred
gathering from becoming primarily a musical performance was counterbalanced
by the public pressure to increase the musical content of the prayer service.
Eventually, alternative forms of religious expression provided further opportunities
for the use of music within Jewish social frameworks in Spain.
Music and Jewish Mysticism in Spain: Nightly Vigils, Prophecy and Therapy
Additional occasions for religious musical expressions among the Jews of medieval
Spain are related to the rise of Jewish mysticism. Formal public expressions
of religiosity, i.e. the normative liturgy, apparently did not satisfy the needs of
those who aspired to a higher degree of intensity in their religious experience.
Establishing other forms of devotion was one of the main contributions of 13th
century Spanish kabbalists, such as Avraham Abulaa.130 These devotions included
novel types of musical expression, including the singing of strophic poetry, whose
scope was limited to the liturgy.
A common form of devotion developed under the inuence of mystical
practices was the habit of rising at night to recite voluntary prayers, a custom
sometimes known in medieval Spain as lehitnapel, by way of the Arabic concept
of nala. A hint to this practice is given by R. Yonah ibn Janah of Cordova in his
Sefer ha-shorashim.131
And when I consulted with Mar Yitsh aq ben Mar Shaul zl on the matter of
elekha kisiti [Psalm 143:9] he confessed I do not understand it and
told me: my custom was to pray [lehitnapel] this Psalm in the nights and
when I inquired into the issue of elekha kisiti and I could not understand it,
I refrained from praying it.
Mystical exercises such as lehitnapel belonged to the domain of the individual
or of small groups of devotees. However, an earlier custom of rising in the early
130 Moshe Idel, The Mystical Experience in Abraham Abulafia, New York 1988.
131 See the edition of W. Bacher, Sepher Haschoraschim Wurzelwrtebuch der
hebrischen Sprache von Abdulwalid Merwn Ibn nah (R. Jona). Aus dem
Arabischer ins Hebrische bersetz von Yehudah Ibn Tibbon, Berlin, 1896 (Hebrew),
reprint Jerusalem, 1965, p. 226, see also there, vol. 2, p. X of the Hebrew version where
the Arabic etymology of lehitnapel is discussed. This practice is also mentioned
by Ashtor, The Jews of Moslem Spain, p. 150 and note 325 and Idel, The Mystical
Experience, on the basis of the same source. For early evidence about the existence of
such practices in the East perhaps under Sufi influence, see T. Beeri, Betwen Iraq and
Spain: Ezekiel ben Eli and His Poetry, Peamim 108 (2006), pp. 518.
[44]
132 Yehudah ben Barzillai ha-Nasi al-Bargeloni, Sefer ha-ittim, no. 174, p. 253.
133 Baer, Die Juden im christlichen Spanien, vol. 1, p. 474.
134 H. Beinart, The Hispano Jewish Society, Journal of Jewish History 11 (1968), no.1
2, p. 238.
135 A. Blasco Martnez, Instituciones socio-religiosas judas de Zaragoza (siglos XIVXV): sinagogas, cofradas, hospitales, Sefarad 50 (1990), no. 1, 346, especially pp.
1819.
[45]
Edwin Seroussi
Mas, quando viene el alva,
Un rab de una grant barva
igolo al mi diestro lado.
Muncho enantes que en todos
Viene un grant judo tuerto,
Que en medio daquessos lodos
Al Diablo lo oviesse muerto,
Que con sus grandes bramidos
Ya querran mis odos
Estar allende del puerto.
Rab Yehud el terero,
Do posa Tello, mi jo,
Los puntos de su garguero
The rabbis, answering from the mouth of the poet himself, defend the quality of
their liturgical singing and then respond apologetically, suggesting to the Christian
bard that their early morning devotional prayers may benet him as well.
136
136 Juan Alfonso de Baena, Cancionero de Juan Alfonso de Baena, B. Dutton and J.
Gonzlez Cuenca eds., Madrid 1993, p. 536, no. 303. See the indispensable study by
F. Cantera Burgos, El Cancionero de Baena: judos y conversos en l, Sefarad 27
(1967), pp. 71111, especially pp. 106109 on Pedro Ferruz.
[46]
[47]
Edwin Seroussi
e linpias. E venian muchas donellas e otras mugeres a taer y baylar a las
syete noches. (At her house when a son was born they used to circumcise
him in the manner and style that they were accustomed to, dressing the
newborn with white and clean clothes. And many young ladies and other
women used to come to play and dance during the seven nights)
Item dixo que al tiempo que paria, seyendo biba, veya que hasia las
hadas, y venian alli donzellas e otras parientas e taian alli panderos e
comian muchas frutas e alla hasia las hadas. (The above said that when she
gave birth, and remained alive, [the witness] saw her doing the hadas and
young women and female relatives came and played there on their frame
drums and ate fruits and made the hadas)
The rst lines of songs for this event have survived in inquisitional records, such
as Hadas, hadas, hadas buenas que te vengan139 or Lobo halbn [probably le-bo
ha-ben, Hebrew for the coming of the boy] hadas traygo para ty, las medias
traygo para ty y las medias traygo para my.140 It is remarkable that this type
of celebration, known also as noche de la shemirah (night of the vigil), became
deeply embedded in the Sephardic tradition and was endowed with mystical
interpretations.141 Until the present, the ceremony of name-giving for baby girls
among the Sephardim of North Morocco is called fadas. A line from one of the
most beloved havdalah (end of the Sabbath) songs from Tetuan, in which the
believers ask for a good coming week, says: para fadar y sercusir (i.e. for
name-giving [of girls] and circumcision).142 Undoubtedly the rich repertoire of
canticas de parida (songs for the mother of the newborn) that has survived in the
Sephardic repertoires until the present is testimony to the cultural importance of
this custom whose roots extend back to the medieval period.143
Pascua (Passover) appears to be another occasion in which converso women
139 Beinart, Ibidem, pp. 302303, especially note 185.
140 Quoted in Levine Melamed, Noticias sobre los ritos, p. 237.
141 E. Horowitz, The Eve of the Circumsicion: A Chapter in the History of Jewish Nightly
Life, Journal of Social History 23 (1989), pp. 4569; Ibidem, Night Vigils in Jewish
Tradition - Between Popular Culture and Official Religion, in B. Z. Kedar ed., Studies
in the History of Popular Culture, Jerusalem 1996, pp. 209224 (Hebrew).
142 M. Alvar, Cantos de boda judeo-espaoles, Madrid 1971, p. 213 and his remarks on
fadar in p. 199.
143 For example A. Hemsi, Cancionero sefard, E. Seroussi in collaboration with P. DazMas, J. M. Pedrosa and E. Romero ed., Jerusalem 1995, nos. 6873, especially the
remarks by Pedrosa in p. 193; see also M. Molho, Usos y costumbres de los sefardes
de Salnica. Madrid 1959, pp. 7981; M. L. Ortega, Los hebreos en Marruecos,
Madrid 1919: 164166; S. Weich-Shahak, Childbirth Songs among the Sephardi
Jews of Balkan Origin, Orbis Musicae 8 (1983), pp. 87103.
[48]
[49]
Edwin Seroussi
courtyard, the woman mourner awakes the entourage and plays the drum in
her hand and the other women lament and clap their hands, and because they
do this in honor of the deceased their custom should not be abolished.147
There are records showing that Jewish as well as Muslim plaideras provided
their services to Christians. An ordinance from Seville from the time of Alfonso
XI (dated 13371347) prohibits the employment of Moorish or Jewish singers
para fazer el llanto (lit. to cry).148 In a document from 1344, the expenses
for the funeral of doa Mayor Ponce includes fteen maravedes for the judas
endicheras.149 Iberian Jewish women also performed laments at state funerals. At
the memorial services for Alfonso the Magnanimous, king of Aragon and Naples,
held in Cervera (Catalonia) in 1458, Jewish women chanted laments on the towns
square next to six rabbis.150
The records of the Inquisition also contain precious documentation concerning
the performance of lament repertoires. The testimony of Mara Gonzlez in the case
of Leonor de la Oliva in Ciudad Real, mentions Catalina de Zamora, a converso
plaidera who was recruited to sing laments (endechar in the original) at Jewish
funerals.151 In her detailed study of the mourning customs of the new Christians,
Levine Melammed describes scenes that reect old practices of the Jews in Spain.
In the trial of Isabel Garca de Hita, who apparently was a guaynidera or plaidera,
the opening line of a specic endecha is mentioned:
El da del enterramiento de la dicha persona cuando vinieron a enterrar la
cerraron las puertas de la casa de las dichas personas y echaron sus mantos
y comenaron a llorar e guayar e cantar e dar palmadas llorando un poco
e cantando un poco [diziendo]: Fuy del campo la mal casada e cogi las
yerbas.152
The subjects of la mal casada (the badly wedded) and las yerbas (simple or
bitter plants) are recurrent topics in Sephardic songs of admonition and mourning
that have survived in oral tradition. Judeo-Spanish plaideras, as described in all
147
148
149
150
151
152
[50]
[51]
Edwin Seroussi
and recalls his ties with his contemporary non-Jewish colleagues.157 But Ha-Gorni
was an exceptional case of a combination of Hebrew poet and troubadour. Most
Jews who engaged in this profession in medieval Spain were mainly involved with
the dominant non-Jewish culture. In other words, they were procient in poetry
in Romance languages and its musical performance rather than in composing
Hebrew poems.
Names of Jewish troubadours and minstrels (juglares or jongleurs) appear in
royal records. Jews were part of the musical chapel of King Sancho IV of Castille.
Registers of the royal court for 12931294 mention a Jewish juglar and his
wife next to Moorish and Christian juglares.158 Barzalay judeum joculatorem
appeared before the court of Jaime II in Barcelona in 1315.159 Bonafas and his
son Sento (Shemtov), Jewish juglares from Pamplona, received payments from
Charles II (13491387).160
Romano gathered impressive documentation about Jewish musicians who
served in the court of the kings of Aragon in the second half of the 14th century.161 The
Jewish performers appear in the Aragonese sources with different denominations:
mim, jouglar, tocador de viola, sonador de laut, minister, minister de corda,
and ministers dinstruments de corda. All these Jewish musicians played string
instruments. All except for two (Bonafas Gentil i Jacob from Navarra and Naan
de Molina from Castille) were from Aragon: Simuel Fichell, Bonafas Aven Mayor
and Avraham el Mayor were from Saragossa, Jucef Axivil from Borja. Yohanan
(no family name) served the bishop of Valencia; Sasson Salom, minister de corda
e sonador de laut served King Juan I and King Martn; Yohanan Semuel Yohanan
Baruch served Queen Sibilla de Forti. Romano concludes that Jewish juglares and
minstrels, local and visiting ones, served most of the kings of Aragon and their
families.162 We cannot know if there were differences between the repertories or
techniques of Jewish and non-Jewish musicians.
Blasco expanded Romanos ndings by locating other Jewish juglares and
sonadores from the city of Saragossa.163 The terms juglar, ministril, and sonador
157 J. Schirmann, Isaac Gorni, pote hbreu de Provance. Lettres Romanes 3 (1949), pp.
175200; A. Brener, Isaac Ha-Gorni and the Troubadour Persona, Zutot (Amsterdam)
1 (2001), pp. 8490.
158 R. Menndez Pidal, Poesia juglaresca y juglares. Madrid 1957, p. 386.
159 Ibidem, p. 140, note 3.
160 Ibidem; Baer Die Juden im christlichen Spanien, vol. 1: 975
161 D. Romano, Mims, Joglars i Ministrers Jueus a la Corona dArago (13521400), in
Studia in honorem Prof. M. de Riquer, Barcelona 1988, vol. 3, pp. 133149; Ibidem,
Mahahix Alcoqui, extrao juglar judo de los Reyes de Aragn, Sefarad 44 (1985):
183210.
162 See also, Baer, Die Juden im christlichen Spanien, vol. 1, p. 414 and pp. 468469.
163 A. Blasco, Jewish and Convert Jongleurs, Minstrels and Sonadores in Saragossa
[52]
[53]
Edwin Seroussi
cabella iocularie, we read: Nullus Iudeus audeat habere tubas, nec ioculatores
zammarias et guidemas secundum ritum Sarracenorum in nuptiis, nisi per
cabellotum cabelle predicte. Zammaria means zampogna (cornamusa,
siringa, gaita); guidema is yet unclear. 166
High ranking Jewish courtiers dealt with musical activities at court. Don Yosef
de Ecija, who served at the Court of Alfonso XI of Castile and was, according to
Baer, versed in music (yodea nagen), had some authority over the musicians
of the court.167 A testimony of this role appears in an unusually friendly letter
sent to Yosef by Alfonso IV of Aragon on 19th November 1329, after the king
recovered from a serious illness, in which he asks the Jewish courtier to send for
his diversion the Castilian musicians (players of xabeba and meo canon) that they
had heard together when they last met.168
166 Sh. Simonsohn, The Jews in Sicily, Leiden, Boston, Kln 2000 (A Documentary
History of the Jews of Italy, 16), vol. 2 (13021391), pp. 618619, doc. no. 342.
167 A. Ballesteros, Don Juaf de Ecija, Sefarad 6 (1946), pp. 253287; Baer, Die Juden
im christlichen Spanien, vol. 2, p. 142.
168 The letter appears in Baer, Ibidem, vol. 1, p. 262; for a more complete version see,
Ballesteros, Don Juaf de Ecija.
169 E. Seroussi, Catorce canciones en romance como modelos de poemas hebreos del
siglo XV. Sefarad 65 (2005), no. 2, pp. 385411.
[54]
[55]
Edwin Seroussi
/
/
/
/
Another document from the Cairo Genizah contains the entire text of a dirge
(endecha) in Judeo-Spanish dating apparently from closely after the expulsion.173
The extant evidence makes clear that the Judeo-Spanish song repertoire in
medieval Spain stemmed from the world of male juglares. Thus, the transformation
of the Judeo-Spanish folksong into a predominantly womens repertoire appears
to be a phenomenon of the post-expulsion period. Moreover, from its formative
stages the Judeo-Spanish repertoire included songs belonging to diverse genres. It
certainly included some romances from the peninsular tradition, a courtly genre of
the 15th century, and many of these songs were perpetuated until the 20th century
in oral tradition. Vestiges of lyric songs from the pre-expulsion period can also
be found in the more copious 16th century Spanish incipits found in Hebrew
sources. Popular songs from 15th century Spain such as Digan lo que digan la
gente deslenguada or Adobar adobar caldero adobar are mentioned in the
collections of Hebrew sacred poems by Yisrael Najara from the beginning of the
17th century.174
Towards Expulsion
In recent years, many scholars have challenged the widely accepted perception of
the slow and painful decline of medieval Hispanic Jewish culture in the century
immediately preceding the expulsion. Eliezer Gutwirth, for example, offered a
different reading of the century ushered in by the persecutions of 1391 by stressing
the increasing involvement of Jews in Christian culture, in spite of mounting antiJewish sentiments among the Christian elite: Paradoxical as it may seem, the
period which begins with the pogroms [of 1391] and ends with the expulsions
need not be seen as one of unmitigated decline. An examination of both may
[56]
175 E. Gutwirth, Towards expulsion 13911492, in E. Kedourie ed., Spain and the Jews:
The Sephardi Experience 1492 and After, London 1992, pp. 5173, especially p. 52.
176 R. P. Scheindlin, Secular Hebrew Poetry in Fifteenth-Century Spain, in B. R. Gampel
ed., Crisis and Creativity in the Sephardic World 13911648, New York 1997, pp.
2537.
177 Ibidem, p. 35.
178 Ibidem, p. 37.
[57]
Edwin Seroussi
century, including some of the melodies for these poems. Studies, such as those
carried by Avenary and Seroussi, substantiate the claim that at least certain
surviving melodies for the High Holidays and the Ninth of Av are of medieval
Spanish origin.179
The music of non-liturgical religious repertoires also shows a certain
homogeneity. Looking at the musical repertoires surfacing from the melodic
incipits registered in the diwans of the poets belonging to the last school of Hebrew
poetry in Spain, one cannot fail to notice a certain standardization in the traditional
melodies known to these writers. The collection of piyyutim by Shelomo Dapiera
(c.1340/1350 after 1417), whom Bernstein considered the greatest poet of the
last generation in Spain and a major inuence on the great post-exilic Sephardic
poets in the East such as R. Yisrael Najara from Safed and Damascus (c 1555
1625) and David Onqinera from Salonika (second half of 16th century), shows
that a modest number of melodies served this poet for the composition of a large
number of texts.180 Among the melodies that Dapiera was acquainted with are the
tunes of the few piyyutim by the classic Spanish Hebrew poets, such as Yehudah
Halevi and Avraham Ibn Ezra, that continued to circulate as sung poems among
the Jews from Spain, especially items belonging to specic functional genres such
as baqqashot for the early vigils, pizmonim for Festivals such as Simh at Torah and
qinot for fast days. In addition, Dapiera used the melodies of poems by later poets
of lesser stature such as the anonymous Nah um, whose poem Nerd ve-kharkum
is widely mentioned as a melodic incipit by Dapiera as well as by post-exilic
Sephardic poets from North Africa, and the Provenal paytan Haseniri, whose
poem Ha-El haira u-ree is quoted by Dapiera and by exiled Sephardic poets in the
16th and 17th centuries. There was, then, continuity in the singing of paraliturgical
Hebrew poetry from the 15th century in Spain into the post-expulsion era.
We have also observed an ever increasing expertise by Jews in the singing
of songs in Romance languages, especially in the Castilian dialect that became
the dominant component of modern Spanish and of Judeo-Spanish as well. The
Judeo-Spanish cancionero was probably forged by both Jewish juglares who were
active in the courts of Catalonia, Aragon and Castile and by Jewish women who
acquired a rich repertoire of songs in Spanish for life cycle occasions such as
births, circumcisions, weddings and funerals. Sephardic womens voices could
[58]
The singing of pizmonim, religious strophic poetry, with beautiful melodies is then
a remarkable feature of the Sephardic musical culture in Spain. This feature is
frequently mentioned in non-Jewish sources as a clear marker of Hispano-Jewish
character.
The intensive association of 15th century Sephardic Jews with music led Tobi
to argue that the poetic sensitivity of the Jews from Spain immediately before
181 J. R. Cohen, Le rle de la femme-musicienne dans lEspagne medievale, dans les
communauts chretienne, juive et musulmane. MA thesis, Universit de Montreal
1980, p. 86.
182 Y. Yovel, Converso Dualities in the First Generation: The Cancioneros, Jewish
Social Studies 4 (1998), no. 3, 128.
183 Cancionero de Juan Alfonso de Baena, ed. y estudio de B. Dutton y J. Gonzlez
Cuenca, Madrid 1993, pp. XIV-XV.
184 Ibidem, pp. 16ff.
185 Ibidem, no. 142.
[59]
Edwin Seroussi
the expulsion underwent a deep change.186 While secular poetry declined, a new
sacred poetry started to emerge, a paraliturgical poetry that found inspiration in
popular poetry. The taste of the public in the formal-linguistic aspect of poetry
became less sophisticated. Instead, the parameters of content and music became
the center of this new sacred poetry: Music receives a high status in the ritual of
the Lord, in both the framework of the canonical liturgy of the synagogue or in the
framework of the recitation of piyyutim.187
The importance of music in religious devotion is elucidated in the treatise
of poetics Ets hayyim (Oxford, Ms Heb f16, Neubauer 2770, fols 7a-11b) by
Yitsh aq ben Hayyim Hacohen of Xtiva (c. 1468 - after 1518), an exile from Spain
who spent most of the rest of his life in Italy. A relatively elaborate passage on
music included in this work is a very late sample of the speculative texts about
the inuence of music on the human soul and its role in divine worship, which
circulated among Sephardic Jews since the 10th century. Hacohen, inspired by the
numerous late elaborations on the writings on music by Al Kindi and Ikhwan elSafa, writes that words of praise and thanksgiving to the Lord which are said by
means of song with meter and rhyme are of higher value than those said in prose.
Through the melody played by material instruments of music (klei ha-musiqa
ha-homriyym), the goal of awakening the mind of man and worshiping of his
Creator is attained because through them [the instruments] they sing their melodies
and songs in a measured and mindful manner, not by chance and casualty (fol 7a
in Ets hayyim). Musical instruments are then a material means to train the human
mind to understand the non-material essence of the Divinity. This is a relatively
new emphasis on the role of music in worship, an approach less hostile to music
in general and to instrumental music in particular and one which reects the
intellectual trends in the generation of the expulsion from Spain.188
A touching episode recorded in the annals of the Inquisition summarizes
the central argument developed throughout this study, namely that music was a
vital component of Sephardic culture since its beginnings in medieval Spain. It
186 Y. Tobi, Hebrew Poetry in the East after the Spanish Expulsion, Peamim 26 (1986),
p. 33 (Hebrew).
187 Ibidem, p. 41. The same ideas are developed in Y. Tobi, The Role of Music in the
Transition from Prayer to Piyyut, Piyyut in Tradition. 2 (2000), B. Bar Tikvah and E.
Hazan eds., Ramat-Gan, pp. 209230. (Hebrew).
188 A. Shiloah, La musique entre le divin et le terrestre, Anuario Musical 38 (1983), pp.
314; M. Idel, Chronicle of an Exile: R. Isaac ben Hayim Ha-Kohen from Xtiva,
in Jews and Conversos at the Time of the Expulsion, Y. T. Assis and Y. Kaplan eds.,
Jerusalem 1999, pp. 259272, especially p. 270; for a later Sephardi source influenced
by ideas similar to those of R. Itzhak ben Hayyim Hacohen see, Y. Tobi, Hashqafato
shel R. Yehoshua Benvenist (Kushta 1634) al takhlita shel ha-shirah, Dapim lesifrut 4 (1988), pp. 1934.
[60]
[61]
Edwin Seroussi
Arias asked master Josep if he knew how to sing something of his Jewish
[repertoire], and he answered yes, and that Diego Arias asked him if he
knew the melody of a pizmon, Kol mevaser, that the Jews sing and he
answered yes, and he started to sing it, and the same Diego Arias assisted
him and said that he was mistaken in the melody, that the melody was as he
started to sing it, and both sang together.194
A variation of this incident appears in another testimony:
Some nights, after he had returned from the palace and had eaten, Diego
Arias would call Yosef and ask him to come down to the big kitchen where
he was and he would order everyone to leave the place, and he ordered
Yosef to close the door and he asked him to sing in Hebrew a pizmon, and
Yosef defended himself by saying that he did not know how to sing, and he
insisted and said to him that he will help him, and he named the pizmon that
he would sing or asked him to say a chanted psalm, and offered to help him;
after Arias implored him so much, Yosef sang a pizmon and a psalm, and
Diego Arias joined him. And they sang these songs some nights and some
other things that are chanted in their prayers. And [he testied] that these
events occured in a lighthearted vein with laughter. 195
According to the testimonies concerning Diego Arias, the procession of the Torah
194 Ytem dixo que oy decir este testigo [Rab Simoel, fsico del seor duque de
Albunquerque] a maestre Josep, su padre, que yendo un da caminando con Diego
Arias, contador, se quedaron entranbos apartados de la gente que yba con ellos, e le
dixera el dicho Diego Arias al dicho maestre Josep que si saba cantar alguna cosa de
su hebrayco, el qual le dixera que s, e que le dixera Diego Arias que si saba el son de
un pismon que dicen los judos Col meuaer, e que l dixo que s, e lo escompez
[sic] a cantar, e que el dicho Diego Arias le ajud [sic] e dixo que no acertaba en el
son, mas que era como l lo comeno a cantar, y lo cantaron entranbos, Ibidem, vol.
3, p. 62, item 104.
195 Algunas noches, despues que vena de palacio el dicho Diego Arias e despus que
cenaba, inbiaba por el dicho Yn [sic, Yu, Yosef] que se bajase a una coina grande
donde l estaba, e mandaba a todos a salir de ella, y mandaba al dicho Yne que
cerasse la puerta y le deia que cantasse en hebrayco un puizm [sic] y l se defenda
diciendo que no saba cantar, y l se profiaba y dea que l le ayudara y le nombraba
el pizm que disesse o que dixesse algn salmo cantado, e que l le ayudara; el qual,
por tanto se lo rogar, obo de cantar algn pizm e algn salmo, y el dicho Diego Arias
con l. Y esto cantaban algunas noches e algunas cosas que se dicen cantadas en su
oracin. E que estas cosas pasaban de modo jugatibo, riendo, Ibidem, vol. 3, p. 111,
item 203.
[62]
[63]
Edwin Seroussi
Since the remarkable quality of de Avilas voice as heard in the context of his
secretive prayers is stressed by several non-Jewish witnesses, one may conclude
that there was a certain gentile appreciation for the gift of Spanish Jews in the eld
of music. We should point out that Diego Arias de Avila was perhaps conversant
in some kind of Arabic music too.199
The music profession remained a favored one among the Jews who converted
to Christianity and remained in Spain after 1492. One of the rst victims of the
Inquisition in Toledo was no other than Juan de Pealoza (c. 1515 c. 1579), the
organist of the cathedral of Toledo and a grandson of Juan de Cordova el Viejo
(the Old, known as Benbarnel) and of Maria de Pealoza, both Jews expelled in
1492 who returned to Madrid as Christians after a short sojourn to Portugal.200
Sephardic musicians remained notably active in making music, and other
forms of entertainment, in the Ottoman Empire. Upon their arrival in the Ottoman
Empire, they attained prominence in local music circles, as the following story by
R. Eliyahu Capsali of Constantinople (14831555) conveys:
And the King [Sultan Bayazid II, 14811511] went from neighborhood to
neighborhood... And it so happened that the King passed by the public and
there was one of the Spanish Jews who came to live in this land from the
expulsion from Spain and his name [was] Avraham Shondor [chantor? or
perhaps sndir, player of a folk lute], and he was called like this after his art,
because he was the only one of his generation in his art, one who is skilled
in music, a stalwart fellow and a warrior, sensible in speech and handsome
in appearance [I Samuel 17:18]... His listeners would say that he was the
ancestor of all those who play the lyre and the pipe [Genesis 4:21]. And on
that day the man was doing his art at his home playing the drum and the lute
and revel to the tune of the pipe [Job 21:12]. And the King passed by and he
Chichn, con Diego Arias de Abila, contador, le dixo Diego Arias: No sabes, don
Jud? Quando yo era judo yba a la sinoga el da del sbado a deir la hararu [sic;
probably berakha] estando la Tor fuera, reando en ella el rab. Y es vso que los
muchachos judos suban a decir ciertas vendiciones; e que l, como muchacho judo,
subi y dixo vendiciones cantadas. Y quiroos las agora decir; las quales comen
a decir cantadas a voes, con muy buen graia, como judo, e se olgaba mucho en lo
deir, Ibidem, vol. 3, p. 115, item 219.
199 A. de Palencia, Archivo documental espaol: Dcadas, A. Paz y Meli ed., Madrid
1973, I, lib. II, ch. V, pp. 39ff quoted in Gutwirth, Hispano-Jewish Attitudes to the
Moors, pp. 245246.
200 D. Preciado, El organista Juan de Pealoza, primera victima de limpieza de sangre
toledano, El rgano espaol: Actas del II Congreso espaol del rgano, Madrid
1987, pp. 147148; Ibidem, Pealoza, Juan de. Diccionario de la Msica Espaola e
Iberoamericana, vol. 8 (2001), p. 589.
[64]
[65]
Edwin Seroussi
to rejoice him with my actions... but I saw you my Lord, my King as if I
have seen an angel of God, and a great anxiety fell upon me and I was too
anguished to play and too frightened to sing [Isaiah 21:3]... Look away
from me, that I may recover [Psalms 39:14].
And the King spoke to him softly and said: Why are you afraid, what
I have done to you, go and play, and go and sing... And the Jew replied
to the King and said: why my Lord, my King should I not be frightened
by your presence, why should I not tremble when confronting you. I had
heard [about] you with my ears but now I see you with my eyes [Job 42:5].
When I was in Andalusia I have learned of your renown; I awed, O Lord,
by your deeds [Habakkuk 3:2], we were scared and frightened... And when
we heard about your strength and might we lost heart, and no man had
any more spirit left because of you [Joshua 2:11] so mighty was your arm
perceived by the inhabitants of Spain... And why should not I be afraid now,
when my eyes look forward, my gaze be straight ahead [Proverbs 4:25]
fear and trembling invade me; I am clothed with horror [Psalms 55:6].
And the King heard these words and he was pleased, his heart was happy
and his honor rejoiced when he heard that from one edge of the world to
the other people tremble at his presence and are at awe. And he comforted
the heart of the Jew, and the Jew started to strengthen gradually and then he
played a little, murmur upon murmur [Isaiah 28:10], on that day. And on
the next day the King permitted the Jew to leave and come back before him.
And so did the Jew and Avraham woke up early in the morning and went to
the place where he stood [the day before] and he played with his hands and
so he did day after day...
And Avraham attained great honor, and the King put his chair on a high
level, overlooking the rest of the singers and players that played with him
and he performed his melodies in honor of the King for the rest of his days...
And the King ordered and so it was written in the book of chronicles that this
Jew shall receive an award of thirty coins each and every day. His prison
garments were removed and... a regular allotment of food was given him at
the instance of the King an allotment for each day all the days of his life
[II Kings 25:2830].201
201 R. Eliyahu Capsali, Seder Eliyahu Zuta, The History of the Ottomans and Venice and
Chronicle of Israel in the Turkish Kingdom. Spain and Venice by R. Eliyahu b. Elkanah
Capsali (14831555), Jerusalem 1976, vol. 1, pp. 91ff. (Hebrew), translated in E.
Seroussi, From Court and Tarikat to Synagogue: Ottoman Art Music and Hebrew
Sacred Songs, Sufism, Music, and Society in the Middle East, A. Hammarlund, T.
Olsson and E. zdalga eds., Istanbul 2001, pp 8196.
[66]
[67]