Hear the traces of American folk music in this new Hasidic song
Photo by pxhere.com
By Rukhl Schaechter January 18, 2024
Hasidic Yiddish songwriter-singer Motty Ilowitz has never shied away from writing songs that don’t fit the Haredi mold.
In his latest one, “Mochel” — which translates to “Forgive Me” — he tells the heartbreaking story of a driver who, in his rush to take his daughter to chemotherapy, tragically kills a little boy stepping off a school bus. The climax of the song is centered on a dramatic moment in the courtroom when the dead boy’s father and the driver come face to face.
The 36-year-old Ilowitz, whose initial career was as a badkhn (traditional wedding entertainer), started recording his own songs about 10 years ago. At that time, his music videos had no English subtitles, since they were intended for audiences in Yiddish-speaking Hasidic communities around the world, especially those in the United States and Israel.
Over the years he has drawn quite a following, especially among younger Hasidim. Interestingly, it isn’t just the rebellious set that likes his songs. “There are also a lot of people within the community who listen to him,” said Rabbi Ysoscher Katz, chair of the Talmud department at Yeshivat Chovevei Torah, who grew up in the Satmar community. “For every ten open rebels, there’s one or two people who are still inside the community but are open and curious, in spite of the fact that his music doesn’t have the establishment’s imprimatur — or perhaps even because of it.”
In an interview last year, Ilowitz expressed regret that singing in Yiddish limited his potential audiences, but insisted on using it anyway “because for me, Yiddish is real.” In the past few years, several of his music videos have been subtitled in English and Hebrew, opening them up to those who don’t speak Yiddish.
Among those is the satirical song “Everyone Nobody,” which critiques the oppressive conformism of his community, as in this verse:
“Whether choosing a piece of clothing, or planning a celebration
I first make sure that Mr. Nobody doesn’t think it’s a mistake.
After all, I don’t want Mr. Nobody complaining about me
Or saying to me: “Why did you get yourself into this mess?”
Another song of his, called “Different,” expresses the longing of a mentally disabled teenager to be accepted by his peers.
In the past, it was rare to openly critique the Hasidic community from within. Only the late songwriter Michoel Schnitzler, known as “the father of Hasidic pop,” had been making protest music of any kind. Over the years, more and more Hasidic singers have pushed the boundaries of the community, but Ilowitz now does it routinely.
Another daring move by Ilowitz was recording a song devoted to the joy of his daughter becoming a “Bas Mitzvah.” Hasidim rarely publicize songs about women or girls, finding it to go against the rules of tsnius (modesty).
In contrast to his previous songs, “Mochel” has a ballad-like quality. That, as well as his folk guitar finger-picking backup, hints at the influence American folk music seems to have had on him. And he’s not the first Hasidic pop singer to choose a folk-rock musical style. Five years ago, Hasidic songwriter-singer Joey Newcomb did so too with his song “Borei Pri Ha’etz” (“Blessing the fruit of the tree”). The video of the song attracted over 115,000 views.
A message from Forverts editor Rukhl Schaechter
I hope you appreciated this article. Before you move on, I wanted to ask you to support the Forverts' 127-year legacy — and its bright future.
In the past, the goal of the Forverts was to Americanize its readers, to encourage them to learn English well and to acculturate to American society. Today, our goal is the reverse: to acquaint readers — especially those with Eastern European roots — with their Jewish cultural heritage, through the Yiddish language, literature, recipes and songs.
Our daily Yiddish content brings you new and creative ways to engage with this vibrant, living language, including Yiddish Wordle, Word of the Day videos, Yiddish cooking demos, new music, poetry and so much more.
— Rukhl Schaechter, Yiddish Editor
