When a climate apocalypse one day destroys human civilization, at least alien archaeologists will be able to become acquainted with Groucho Marx.
I was hoping to post Part 2 of the Passover concert before the first Seder and then log off for yomtov, but cleaning the oven took longer than I expected (don’t ask). So here it is. We’ve got some Psalms, some spirituals, some memories of Jerusalem and some visions of the Messianic Era.
Pete Seeger taught generations of Americans that social protest and love of Israel were two sides of the same coin, J.J. Goldberg recalls. So what happened in 1968?
“There isn’t an after party because I know pretty much everyone here,” composer David Amram announced at the end of his 80th birthday celebration at Symphony Space on November 11. “I figured that with 500 of you, plus your dates, plus the 60-piece orchestra, the rest of the performers and our families, we’d need Madison Square Garden. And it was booked.” He was exaggerating, but not much: The hall was packed with fans and well-wishers, and the concert program listed more musicians than could comfortably fit backstage at any one time — they were told to arrive in shifts.
Somewhere in the popular mythology of Jewish paranoia there was a time when everyone loved us. The legend goes that just after the goyim stopped believing we all had horns and just before they started hating Israel for, well, surviving, there was a moment where we were so deeply beloved that black icons, white icons, men, women, children, yea verily all the nations of the earth flocked to breathe life into the corniest of our folk tunes. If even our cast off Hava Nagilas could be the epitome of cool then kal vachomer pretty much anything we did would be unbelievably hip.