KADDISH
TEXTS & COMMENTARY


KADDISH
Symphony No.3
Sung in Hebrew; spoken in English
Speaker’s text by the Composer

Movement I

INVOCATION

SPEAKER
O, my Father: ancient, hallowed,
Lonely, disappointed Father:
Betrayed and rejected Ruler of the Universe:
Angry, wrinkled Old Majesty:
I want to pray.
I want to say Kaddish.
My own Kaddish. There may be
No one to say it after me.

I have so little time, as You well know.
Is my end a minute away? An hour?
Is there even time to consider the question?
It could be here, while we are singing.
That we may be stopped, once for all,
Cut off in the act of praising You.
But while I have breath, however brief,
I will sing this final Kaddish for You,
For me, and for all these I love
Here in this sacred house.

I want to pray, and time is short.
Yit’gadal v’yit’kadash sh’m? raba …

KADDISH 1

SPEAKER
MAGNIFIED … AND SANCTIFIED …
BE THE GREAT NAME … AMEN.

CHORUS
Yit’gadal v’yit’kadash sh’m? raba, amen
b’al’ma div’ra chir’ut?,
v’yam’lich mal’chut?
b’chay?chon uv’yom?chon
uv’chay? d’chol b?t Yis’ra?l,
ba’agala uviz’man kariv,
v’im’ru: amen.

Y’h? sh’m? raba m’varach
l’alam ul’al’m? al’maya.

Yit’barach v’yish’tabach v’yit’pa-ar
v’yit’romam v’yit’nas?
v’yit’hadar v’yit’aleh v’yit’halal
sh’m? d’kud’sha, b’rich Hu,
l’?la min kol bir’chata
v’shirata, tush’b’chata v’nechemata,
da-amiran b’al’ma,
v’im’ru: amen.

Y’h? sh’lama raba
min sh’maya v’chayim al?nu
v’al kol Yis’ra?l
v’im’ru: amen.

Translation
(Magnified and sanctified be His great name, Amen
Throughout the world which He hath created
according to His will;
And may He establish His kingdom
During Your life and during Your days,
And during the life of all the house of Israel,
Speedily, and at a near time,
And say ye, Amen.

May His great name be blessed,
Forever and to all eternity.

Blessed and praised and glorified,
And exalted and extolled and honored,
And magnified and lauded
Be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He;
Though He be beyond all blessings,
And hymns, praises and consolations,
That can be uttered in the world.
And say ye, Amen.

May there be abundant peace
From heaven, and life for us
And for Israel;
And say ye, Amen.)

SPEAKER Amen! Amen! Did You hear that, Father?
“Sh’lama raba! May abundant peace
Descend on us. Amen.”

Great God,
You make peace in the high places,
Who commanded the morning since the days began,
And caused the dawn to know its place.
Surely You can cause and command
A touch of order here below,
On this one, dazed speck.
And let us say again: Amen.

CHORUS
Oseh shalom bim’romav,
Hu ya-aseh shalom al?nu
v’al kol Yis’ra?l
v’im’ru: amen.

(He who maketh peace in His high places,
May He make peace for us
And for all Israel;
And say ye, Amen)

Movement II

DIN TORAH

SPEAKER
With Amen on my lips, I approach
Your presence, Father. Not with fear,
But with a certain respectful fury.
Do You not recognize my voice?
I am that part of Man You made
To suggest his immortality.
You surely remember, Father?—the part
That refuses death, that insists on You,
Divines Your voice, guesses Your grace.
And always You have heard my voice,
And always You have answered me
With a rainbow, a raven, a plague, something.
But now I see nothing. This time You show me
Nothing at all.

Are You listening, Father? You know who I am:
Your image; that stubborn reflection of You
That Man has shattered, extinguished, banished.
And now he runs free—free to play
With his new-found fire, avid for death,
Voluptuous, complete and final death.
Lord God of Hosts, I call You to account!
You let this happen, Lord of Hosts!
You with Your manna, Your pillar of fire!
You ask for faith, where is Your own?
Why have You taken away Your rainbow,
That pretty bow You tied round Your finger
To remind You never to forget Your promise?

“For lo, I do set my bow in the cloud ...
And I will look upon it, that I
May remember my everlasting covenant ...”
Your covenant! Your bargain with Man!
Tin God! Your bargain is tin!
It crumples in my hand!
And where is faith now—Yours or mine?

CHORUS (Cadenza)
Amen, Amen, Amen …

SPEAKER
Forgive me, Father. I was mad with fever.
Have I hurt You? Forgive me,
I forgot You too are vulnerable.
But Yours was the first mistake, creating
Man in Your own image, tender,
Fallible. Dear God, how You must suffer,
So far away, ruefully eyeing
Your two-footed handiwork—frail, foolish,
Mortal.
My sorrowful Father,
If I could comfort You, hold You against me,
Rock You and rock You into sleep.

KADDISH 2

SOPRANO SOLO AND BOYS’ CHOIR
Yit’gadal v’yit’kadash sh’m? raba, amen …

SPEAKER
Rest, my Father. Sleep, dream.
Let me invent Your dream, dream it
With You, as gently as I can.
And perhaps in dreaming, I can help You
Recreate Your image, and love him again.

Movement III

SCHERZO

SPEAKER
I’ll take You to Your favorite star.
A world most worthy of Your creation.
And hand in hand we’ll watch in wonder
The workings of perfectedness.

This is Your Kingdom of Heaven, Father,
Just as You planned it.
Every immortal cliché intact.
Lambs frisk. Wheat ripples.
Sunbeams dance. Something is wrong.
The light: flat. The air: sterile.
Do You know what is wrong? There is nothing
to dream.
Nowhere to go. Nothing to know.
And these, the creatures of Your Kingdom,
These smiling, serene and painless people—
Are they, too, created in Your image?
You are serenity, but rage
As well. I know. I have borne it.
You are hope, but also regret.
I know. You have regretted me.
But not these—the perfected ones:
They are beyond regret, or hope.
They do not exist, Father, not even
In the light-years of our dream.

Now let me show You a dream to remember!
Come back with me, to the Star of Regret:
Come back, Father, where dreaming is real,
And pain is possible—so possible
You will have to believe it. And in pain
You will recognize Your image at last.

Now behold my Kingdom of Earth!
Real-life marvels! Genuine wonders!
Dazzling miracles! ...
Look, a Burning Bush!
Look, a Fiery Wheel!
A Ram! A Rock! Shall I smite it? There!
It gushes! It gushes! And I did it!
I am creating this dream! Now
Will You believe?

I have You, Father, locked in my dream,
And You must remain till the final scene ...
Now! Look up! High! What do You see?
A rainbow, which I have created for You!
My promise, my covenant!
Look at it, Father: Believe! Believe!
Look at my rainbow and say after me:
MAGNIFIED ... AND SANCTIFIED ...
BE THE GREAT NAME OF MAN!

The colors of my rainbow are blinding, Father,
And they hurt Your eyes, I know.
But don’t close them now. Don’t turn away.
Look. Do You see how simple and peaceful
It all becomes, once You believe?

Believe!

Believe!

KADDISH 3

BOYS’ CHOIR
Yit’gadal v’yit’kadash sh’m? raba, amen.

SPEAKER
Don’t waken yet! However great Your pain,
I will help You suffer it.

O God, believe. Believe in me
And You shall see the Kingdom of Heaven
On Earth, just as You planned.
Believe … believe.

See how my rainbow lights the scene.
The voices of Your children call
From corner to corner, chanting Your praises.

BOYS’ CHOIR
b’al’ma div’ra chirut? ...

SPEAKER
The rainbow is fading. Our dream is over.
We must wake up now, and the dawn is chilly.

FINALE

SPEAKER
The dawn is chilly, but the dawn has come.
Father, we’ve won another day.
We have dreamed our Kaddish, and wakened alive.
Good morning, Father. We can still be immortal,
You and I, bound by our rainbow.
That is our covenant, and to honor it
Is our honor ... not quite the covenant
We bargained for, so long ago,
At the time of that Other, First Rainbow.
But then I was only Your helpless infant,
Arms hard around You, dead without You.
We have both grown older, You and I.
And I am not sad, and You must not be sad.
Unfurrow Your brow, look tenderly again
At me, at us, at all these children
Of God here in this sacred house.
And we shall look tenderly back to You.

O my Father, Lord of Light!
Beloved Majesty: my Image, my Self!
We are one, after all, You and I:
Together we suffer, together exist,
And forever will recreate each other.
Recreate, recreate each other!
Suffer, and recreate each other!

SOPRANO SOLO, BOYS’ CHOIR, AND CHORUS
Y’h? sh’m? raba m’varach …


KADDISH
TEXT AND NARRATION BY SAMUEL PISAR
CHICAGO SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA
RAVINIA FESTIVAL
AUGUST 1, 2003

1. INVOCATION

SPEAKER:
>> ALMIGHTY GOD, OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN:
THIS IS MY PERSONAL KADDISH,
WRITTEN TO ACCOMPANY THE SOUL -WRENCHING MUSIC
OF MY INSPIRED AND BELOVED FRIEND, LEONARD BERNSTEIN
(MAY HE REST IN PEACE). //

>> IT IS COMPOSED FOR YOU, FATHER //
>> AND FOR YOUR TORMENTED CHILDREN ON THIS EARTH. //
>> I WEEP FOR THEM ALL, AS I UTTER THIS LAMENT,
WITH GRIEF AND ANGER,
PENT UP FROM MY OWN TRAUMATIC PAST,
AND THE DELUGE OF HATRED AND VIOLENCE
THAT IS AGAIN ENGULFING THE WORLD. //

>> MY FIRST TEARS ARE FOR MY FAMILY AND MY PEOPLE, /
PERSECUTED FOR CENTURIES /
IN THE RELIGIOUS, ETHNIC AND IDEOLOGICAL
CAULDRONS OF EUROPE, /
AND THEN SO CRUELLY ANNIHILATED IN THE SHOAH,
WHILE YOU, KING OF THE UNIVERSE, STOOD IDLY BY. //

>> EQUALLY DISTANT AND INDIFFERENT WERE YOU /
AS I AGONIZED, AT A TENDER AGE,
IN AUSCHWITZ, MAJDANEK AND DACHAU,
WHERE EICHMANN’S AND MENGELE’S GRUESOME REALITY
ECLIPSED DANTE’S IMAGINARY VISION OF HELL.

>> TO THIS DAY, I AM HAUNTED BY GUILT
FOR HAVING BEEN SPARED,
WHEN SO MANY OF MINE WERE MURDERED. /
NOW, WHILE I STILL HAVE TIME,
I MUST MAKE AMENDS
FOR THE ANNUAL KADDISH I COULD NEVER RECITE.
BECAUSE I HAD NO DATES OF THEIR DEMISE, /
NO CLOSURE //

>> NO GRAVES FOR A STONE //
>> A FLOWER, A PRAYER,
A PRAYER FOR THEIR REDEMPTION. /

>> YIT’GADAL V’YITKADASH SHME RABA…//

KADDISH 1.
SPEAKER :
>> MAGNIFIED… AND SANCTIFIED…BE THE GREAT NAME…A-MEN !

(CHORUS: FULL ARAMEIC KADDISH)

SPEAKER :
>> AMEN! AMEN!
SH’LAMA RABA!
MAY ABUNDANT PEACE DESCEND ON US…A -- MEN! //

>> THE INNOCENTS FOR WHOM I SPEAK ARE LEGION:
MY PARENTS, WHO WERE SO YOUNG WHEN THEY DIED,
MY LITTLE SISTER FRIEDA, WHO HAD HARDLY LIVED,
MY GRANDPARENTS, UNCLES, AUNTS, COUSINS,
AND HUNDREDS OF MY SCHOOLMATES.
ALL WIPED OUT IN ONE FELL SWOOP, //

>> ACCORDING TO THE UNFATHOMABLE LOGIC //

>> THAT REIGNS IN YOUR REALM. //.

(CHORUS)

3.DIN TORAH
SPEAKER :
>> ETERNAL GOD, TODAY I ADDRESS YOU
WITH THE SAME VISCERAL VOICE,
AND THE SAME CLENCHED FIST
I ONCE RAISED AGAINST YOU, BLASPHEMOUSLY,
AS A SKELETAL KID WITH SHAVED HEAD AND SUNKEN EYES,
TREMBLING AT THE THRESHOLD
OF A BIRKENAU GAS CHAMBER. //

>> TREMBLING AND DEMANDING TO KNOW:
“MONSTER, WHERE ARE YOU? /
HOW CAN YOU ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN? /
DO YOU EVEN CARE? //

>> AT THAT CURSED PLACE AND TIME,
WHEN I DIED SO MANY DEATHS,
LIVED SO MANY TORTURES AND HUMILIATIONS…
WHEN I WAS UNABLE TO BELIEVE THAT THE WORLD
STILL TURNED AROUND A JUST AND CARING GOD,
I CALLED YOU TO ACCOUNT, FATHER, I HAD TO…
AND IN MY DESPAIR, I LASHED OUT,
LIKE MOSES SMITING THE ROCK IN THE SINAI DESERT. /
MAY YOU PARDON MY SINS,
AS I HAVE PARDONED YOURS,
AFTER OUR LONG AND STORMY ESTRANGEMENT.
I HAVE PARDONED, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN:
YES, THE WOUNDS OF MY FLESH HAVE HEALED LONG AGO.
BUT THE WOUNDS OF THE HEART
THAT BLEED FOR LOVED ONES, CAN NEVER HEAL. //

>> AND YET, I REMAIN FIRMLY WITHIN YOUR FOLD;
INDEED, WHAT CHOICE DO I HAVE? //
>> WHETHER YOU CREATED US, OR WE INVENTED YOU
IS NO LONGER RELEVANT.
YOUR OMNIPRESENCE, BE IT REAL OR MYTHICAL,
IS SO OLD, SO IMMENSE,
THAT WE DREAD BEING ORPHANS IN A GODLESS WILDERNESS.
I HAVE CRAWLED AS AN ORPHAN IN SUCH A WILDERNESS,
AND BROUGHT BACK ALARMING EVIDENCE OF ITS HORRORS. //

>> YOU SEE, FATHER, I AM ONE OF THE LAST SURVIVING WITNESSES
OF THE GREATEST MAN-MADE CATASTROPHE
THAT EVER BEFELL HUMAN CIVILIZATION. /
MY LIFE IS NOT ENTIRELY MY OWN;
THOSE WHO PERISHED ALSO LIVE WITHIN ME. /
DO YOU REMEMBER THE BLOOD-CURDLING CRIES
OF THE MEN, WOMEN AND CHILDREN,
THAT TORE THROUGH YOUR HEAVENS, DAY AFTER DAY,
AS THE GAS BEGAN TO CHOKE THEM TO DEATH? /

>> I WAS THERE, AND I HEARD THEIR CRIES.
THEY HAD ONLY THREE MINUTES TO LIVE.
YET THEY FOUND ENOUGH STRENGTH
TO DIG THEIR FINGERNAILS INTO THE WALLS
AND SCRATCH IN THE WORDS: “ NEVER FORGET!” //

>> THESE WORDS IMPOSED SACRED OBLIGATIONS,
ON ME…AS ON YOU.
THE AUSCHWITZ NUMBER ENGRAVED ON MY ARM
REMINDS ME OF IT EVERY DAY.
AND TODAY, FATHER…I REMIND YOU. //

(CHORUS)

SPEAKER:
>> HOW CAN ONE EVEN BE SURE THAT THE HOLOCAUST
WAS TOTALLY MAN-MADE?
THAT YOUR PERPLEXING FAILURE TO PREVENT
THE EXTERMINATION OF INNOCENTS
ON SUCH A MASSIVE SCALE,
DID NOT EMBOLDED THE DEMONS IN OUR MIDST. /
AND UNLEASH THE GENOCIDAL BLOODSHED OF TODAY?
WE KNOW SINCE ADAM AND EVE,
AND THE SURVIVORS OF NOAH’S ARK,
HOW WRATHFUL AND VENGEFUL A GOD YOU CAN BE
WHEN YOU LOSE
YOUR NOTORIOUSLY SHORT TEMPER. //

KADDISH 2
SPEAKER :
>> I RECALL MY GRANDMOTHER’S SERENE FACE,
AND SWEET VOICE, SINGING LULLABYES
ABOUT HOW GOOD,
HOW CARING, HOW MERCIFUL A GOD YOU ARE.
HOW YOU WILL ALWAYS BE THERE TO COMFORT ME IN NEED. /

AFTER OUR WORLD FELL APART,
I OFTEN TRIED TO SUMMON HER VOICE
WHEN I NEEDED COMFORT /
THAT VOICE, SO BRUTALLY SILENCED
IN THE OVENS OF TREBLINKA. //

(SOPRANO SOLO AND WOMEN’S CHOIR)

SPEAKER:
>> THE MEMORY OF MY GRANDMOTHER’S LULLABYES
HAS ALWAYS SOOTHED ME TO SLEEP,
EVEN WHEN I BECAME AN ADULT. /
BUT IN MY DREAMS,
ALL I COULD SEE WAS HER ANGUISH,
AS THE KILLERS TOOK HER AWAY. //

3. SCHERZO
SPEAKER :
>> O LORD, HOW LADEN WITH SORROW
IS THE HISTORY OF YOUR CHOSEN PEOPLE //.

>> LET US LOOK TOGETHER
AT THE, SO CALLED, “LOVING PATERNAL COMPASSION”
YOU HAVE SHOWERED UPON US,
SINCE TIME IMMEMORIAL: // 

>> THE SLAVERY IN EGYPT,
THE BABYLONIAN CAPTIVITY,
THE ROMAN CONQUEST,
THE MARTYRDOM OF MASSADA,
THE SPANISH INQUISITION,
THE RUSSIAN POGROMS,
THE NAZI GENOCIDE,
AND TODAY, THE ISLAMIC JIHADS. /
THE LIST IS ENDLESS, FATHER,
AND BLACK CLOUDS OF INTOLERANCE
ARE THREATENING US AGAIN. /

>> IN THE EYES OF OUR ENEMIES
WE ARE ALWAYS GUILTY.
GUILTY WHEN GOD-FEARING AND PEACE-LOVING,
WE ARE SLAUGHTERED LIKE SHEEP.
GUILTY OF TAKING UP ARMS,
SO WE WILL NEVER BE SLAUGHTERED AGAIN.
GUILTY OF PROCLAIMING UNIVERSAL VALUES,
AS YOU HAD COMMANDED.
GUILTY OF WARNING THAT MAN
IS CAPABLE OF THE WORST, AS OF THE BEST,
OF MADNESS, AS OF GENIUS;
THAT THE UNBELIEVABLE, THE UNTHINKABLE…IS POSSIBLE.
TRUE, WE THE CHOSEN,
HAVE NO MONOPOLY ON SUFFERING.
YOU HAVE PERMITTED HORRENDOUS CRIMES AGAINST OTHERS.
AND THEY, TOO, DESERVE AN HONORED PLACE IN MY KADDISH.//

>> BESIDES, NOT ONLY THE GODLESS COMMIT SUCH CRIMES.
MANY OF YOUR FAITHFUL HAVE LOST THE ABILITY
TO DISTINGUISH BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL.
RELIGIOUS FANATICS,
VIOLATING THEIR OWN, HOLIEST SCRIPTURES,
CONTINUE TO KILL, MAIM AND TERRORISE
IN THE SANCTIFIED NAME OF YOU--OUR COMMON GOD? //

>> DECIDEDLY, SOMETHING IS AWRY IN THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN,
AS GLOBAL CHAOS SPREADS HERE BELOW– IN BABEL. //

>> IF WE HAVE TRANSGRESSED, FATHER,
FORGIVE US, FOR WE KNOW NOT WHAT WE DO.
AND HELP US BACK TO YOUR RIGHTEOUS PATH, /
BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE. //

>> THE SPECTER OF A PLANETARY AUSCHWITZ
FOR THE FINAL SOLUTION OF MANKIND,
IS FOREVER PRESENT IN MY NIGHTMARES. /
REPEAT AFTER ME, FATHER:
“NEVER FORGET”. AMEN! / 
“NEVER AGAIN”.   AMEN ! //

>> IN THE COURSE OF MY TORTUOUS EXISTENCE
YOU HAVE PUSHED ME TO THE LOWEST DEPTHS
OF HUMAN EXPERIENCE,
AND THEN PROPELLED ME TO A FEW OF ITS HEIGHTS.
I HAVE LEARNED THE HARD WAY,
THAT AT BEST, YOU HELP ONLY THOSE WHO HELP THEMSELVES.
AND AT WORST,
YOU ARE ALTOGETHER DISINTERESTED IN OUR FATE. //

>> ENIGMATIC MAJESTY,
IT IS HIGH TIME THAT YOU SHOW US SOME SIGNS OF HOPE /
>> THAT YOU REAFFIRM OUR ANCIENT COVENANT /
>> AND RENEW YOUR PROMISE OF A MESSIANIC AGE. //

>> RENEW YOUR PROMISE !…

KADDISH. 3
(BOYS’ CHOIR)

SPEAKER :
>> IT IS SAID THAT IN ANCIENT GREECE,
WHEN GODS WERE MORE HUMAN,
MEN WERE MORE DIVINE. //

>> YOU CANNOT BE HUMAN, FATHER, //
BUT CAN’T YOU BE A LITTLE MORE HUMANE?

>> SO WE, THE SINNERS, CAN BECOME MORE GODLY? //

>> WE STRIVE TO HONOR THE LAWS AND ETHICS,
TRANSMITTED BY YOUR VENERABLE PROPHETS.
WE WANT TO BELIEVE IN YOU, FATHER,
WE CAN BELIEVE…
BUT CAN YOU BELIEVE IN US?
CAN YOU BELIEVE…? //

>> IF YOU CAN, IF YOU WISH,
MANKIND EVERYWHERE
WILL CLAMOR YOUR SACRED NAME.
YOU WILL HEAR THE ARDENT PRAYERS,
THE JOYOUS PSALMS
OF ALL YOUR CHILDREN, IN UNISON AND HARMONY. //

(BOYS’ CHOIR)

SPEAKER :
>> AT THIS POINT IN MY LIFE, I AM STILL TORN,
BETWEEN REVELATION AND REASON,
ORTHODOXY AND HUMANISM,
BIBLICAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL EXPLANATIONS OF EXISTENCE.
DIFFICULT AS THEY ARE, I AM TRYING,
SINCERELY TRYING, TO RECONCILE THESE DILEMMAS,
SO I CAN GO ON WORSHIPPING YOU,
IF ONLY IN MY OWN, UNORTHODOX WAY. //

FINALE
>> FATHER, FATHER,
DO YOU RECALL THAT AMAZING,
SUN-DRENCHED, SPRING DAWN,
AT THE END OF WORLD WAR II,
WHEN AMERICAN GIs DELIVERED ME FROM A DEATH CAMP,
AND GAVE ME LIFE AND FREEDOM ?
I WAS JUST A BOY, ALONE, LIKE THE YOUNG JOSEPH IN EGYPT.
BUT FROM THAT FATEFUL MOMENT ON,
I NO LONGER FELT ABANDONED.

BECAUSE YOUR GODLINESS,
TOWARD THE ENSLAVED, THE OPPRESSED,
THE DECIMATED REMNANTS OF MY PEOPLE,
SUDDENLY BECAME DIVINELY HUMANE.

YOU REVIVED YOUR OLD, LEGENDARY TALENT FOR MIRACLES,
LEADING US BACK TO THE PROMISED LAND,
TO REBUILD YOUR TEMPLE,
TO INGATHER THE SURVIVORS AND THE EXILES,
AND TO UNDO SOME OF THE DEVASTATION
THAT HITLER, STALIN AND OTHER TYRANTS
HAD INFLICTED UPON US,
AND UPON THE REST OF THE WORLD.

YOU BROUGHT UNEXPECTED, LAVISH GIFTS FOR ME, TOO,
REKINDLING MY WEAK FLICKER OF LIFE INTO A FLAME.
YOU RESTORED MY PHYSICAL, MENTAL AND MORAL HEALTH,
AND OPENED MY SHATTERED MIND
TO THE MAGIC OF KNOWLEDGE, CULTURE AND BEAUTY.
YOU EVEN TAUGHT ME HOW TO FEEL, DREAM AND LOVE AGAIN.

ABOVE ALL, YOU BLESSED ME WITH A NEW FAMILY,
WHOSE BRIGHT AND HAPPY FACES
RESURRECT FOR ME EVERY DAY
THE FEATURES OF THOSE I HAVE LOST.
ONE DAY, THEY MAY SAY KADDISH FOR ME…

>> THUS, O, GREAT GOD OF ABRAHAM,
I BOW IN THE DIRECTION OF ETERNAL JERUSALEM,
ITS MOUNT OF YAD VASHEM, ITS WAILING WALL,
ITS SYNAGOGUES, CHURCHES AND MOSQUES,
>> TO PRAY FOR EVERYONE CREATED IN YOUR IMAGE.
>> AND FOR A MORE TOLERANT, JUST AND PEACEFUL WORLD,
A WORLD WITH LESS BLOOD AND MORE HOPE.
AMEN !
AMEN !
>> A – MEN !…

(SOPRANO SOLO, BOYS’ CHOIR AND CHORUS: FULL ARAMEIC KADDISH).

Copyright © Samuel Pisar
SAMUEL PISAR, Author and Narrator

Samuel Pisar was 10 years old when Hitler and Stalin invaded his native Poland. After 2 years of Soviet captivity and 4 years Nazi slavery, in Auschwitz and other death camps, he emerged, at the age 16, as only survivor of his family and his school.

He resumed his education in Australia, and went on to earn doctorates from Harvard and the Sorbonne. In 1961, he was made a U.S citizen by special Act of Congress.

Today, a world-renowned international lawyer practicing in Paris, London and New York, he has served as a member of President Kennedy’s task force on foreign economic policy and adviser to the State Department, United Nations agencies and the International Olympic Committee.

Pisar is the founder-president of Yad Vashem France, administrator of the Foundation for the Memory of the Shoah, trustee of Washington’s Brookings Institution and director of other cultural and humanitarian organizations.

He has lectured extensively throughout the world, testified before Committees of the U.S Senate, the House of Resentatives and other Parliamentary bodies, and addressed the Economic Forum in Davos, the Council on Foreign Relations in New York, the Commission on Human Rights in Paris, the Young Presidents Organization in London and Kyoto and the Nobel Foundation in Stockholm.

Pisar’s widely read books, published in 20 languages, include “Of Blood and Hope” and “Coexistence and Commerce” which, in the 1970ies inspired President Nixon’s policies toward China, Russia and Eastern Europe.

He is a Knight-Officer of the French Legion of Honor, an Officer of the Order of Arts and Letters, an Honorary Officer of the Order of Australia, a Commander of Poland’s Order of Merit, a receipient of the Elie Wiesel Award, and of other distinctions recognizing his contributions to peace, tolerance and human rights.

In 1989, Leonard Bernstein, a life-long friend of Judith and Samuel Pisar, invited him to write and narrate the international concert commemorating the 50th anniversary of the outbreak of World War II, broadcast globally from the Warsaw Grand Opera.

In 1995, at the 50th commemoration of the Allied Victory in Europe, President Bill Clinton related the saga of Pisar’s tragic adolescence, dramatic escape from Dachau and miraculous liberation by the U.S. Army, while President Jacques Chirac cited him in his historic speech acknowledging France’s responsibility for the Vichy regime’s crimes against the Jews.

Tonight marks Samuel Pisar’s first appearance at the Ravinia Festival.


JAMIE BERNSTEIN NARRATION

I. INVOCATION

My father, who addressed his Creator
When I was only small:
My lonely, nocturnal rambler of a father,
Shaking his fist at the mute heavens --
How he prayed.
He wanted to say Kaddish.
His own Kaddish… just in case no one
Was left to say it after him.

He feared his time, and all human time,
Was running out. Maybe he was right:
Right to pray for the dead-to-be.

Maybe we are but an eyelash away
From erasing all our footsteps,
Silencing all our songs.
So while he had breath, however brief,
My father sang this Kaddish
In his sacred house of music,
A last attempt to drag God back into the equation.

My father prayed, with all his might:
Yit’ gaddal v’yit kadash sh’me raba…
Magnified and sanctified…
Be the great name … Amen.

(Kaddish 1: chorus)

Amen! Amen! He couldn’t say it enough.
“Sh’lama raba!” May abundant peace
Descend on us: Amen.

This God,
Who allegedly makes peace on high,
Who can juggle suns, spin moons
And boss the stars around:

Surely, my father reasoned,
Such a God could bring a touch of order here below,
On this one, dazed speck.
And he said it again: Amen.

II. DIN-TORAH

With Amen on his lips, my father approaches
His Creator, not with fear,
But with a certain respectful fury,
Demanding recognition:
After all, my father tells him, you gave me the power of song
To mirror your immortality.
I’m the voice
That insists on your presence up there:
So pay attention to me!
I’ve sung to you since you started the clock.
You used to answer back
With a rainbow, a raven, a plague, something.
But you’ve been awfully quiet lately.
Awfully quiet.

Is my father listening now?
Can he hear his hard fists of notes
Battering the portals?
Oh, he would shake his God by the shoulders,
Force him to look down,
Down at our acres of smoldering wreckage.

“I call you to account!” my father cries;
“You let this happen, Lord God of Hosts!”

On and on my father raves,
As only those do who expected
Unconditional love.
He feels most betrayed
By that rainbow business:

“For lo, I do set my bow upon the cloud…
And I will look upon it, that I
May remember my everlasting covenant…”
Those words make my father slam doors, hiss obscenities;
The spittle forms at the corners of his mouth.
Maybe it’s too much for me,
This mighty wrath. Maybe I can’t bear it.

(Chorus: Amen, Amen, Amen.)

Now my father begs forgiveness,
Like a child crawling
Into the lap of an angry parent.
He longs to console his God
For that dawn-of-time mistake:
Creating humans in his own flawed image.
Listen to my father
Contemplating his God’s chagrin.
He aches to hold his Creator in his arms,
Child enfolding father
In a warm, bone-melting embrace.

(Kaddish 2: sop and chorus)

And so my father wrote himself and his God
A lullabye.
He invited God to dream with him.
Maybe in their dream, he hoped,
They could learn to be kind to each other again.

III. SCHERZO

In the dream my father takes his Creator on a field trip.
First they visit a star
Where everything is perfect.

Lambs frisk; wheat ripples; sunbeams dance.
No sentiment, no messy tears
No mawkish triumphal cadences.
But, says my father, something is wrong.
Can we all guess what that something is?

Of course: that clockwork world
Contains no fog, no grime,
No seductive human ambiguity.

Surely my father’s omniscient travelling companion
Could detect the trap
My father was leading him into.

And what do we suppose
Will turn out to be the antidote
To this tuneless world,
Devoid of shadows or curiosity?
This dream is nothing but a setup,
A holy sting;
My father gives his God no real choice at all.

Next stop on the dream tour is our fallible planet.
Didn’t we all see it coming?
See the earth! Feel the pain!
Aren’t we all so much more interesting, Loveable, meaningful?

I would tell my father this:
I grow impatient with your nattering and preening,
Your mystic melodrama.
Do you think this God of yours
Will be impressed with your earthly marvels?
Are you so special, so chosen
That he’s even thinking about you at all?

Listen to my own father,
Hustling his God like a carnival barker, saying:
“Look at my rainbow, which I have created for you!
My promise, my covenant!
Look at it,” he cries,
“Believe! Believe!”
My father commands: “Look at my rainbow and say after me:
Magnified… and sanctified…
Be the great name of MAN!”
Ugh!

Why must my father seek out difficulty?
What gray force compels him
To create these barbed-wire dissonances?

Isn’t he, aren’t we all better off
When he believes in the power
Of his own simple song?

Simple!

Simple!

But wait, wait:
He’s not quite ready to jettison
All that hard-won complexity.

Here is what my father wished for:
Respect for the rigor of his thoughts,
Love for the outpourings of his heart.
Somewhere in the clasp of love to rigor
Lies the art and the faith of it.

His melody scampers
Bright as birds
Darting among the sun-washed stones;

They tumble upward
To the vanishing point of earth and sky.

He says we must wake up now;
And the dawn is chillier than ever.

Finale

The gray air brightens, and look:
We’re all still here.
And I did not flee; though I admit,
Sometimes I wanted to.

It looks like we won’t solve
The ancient riddle this time either.
We rage at our fathers,
Who rage at their fathers,
And back and back all the way to the Creator
Who invented our grievances
But will not tell us why.

Maybe the most we can hope for
Is to locate our own heart’s voice
And fling its tiny song skyward,
As clear and weightless
As a bird at sunrise.
It’s not a grand ambition:
No purple robes, no shiny medals.
But it is the essential thing
That every single one of us can do.

My father dreamed us a Kaddish,
Here in this sacred house of music.
He wrestled with his own voice
To show us our harmony, our dissonance.

Here is what my father would say:
“My God is complicated, for so I make him.
Yet he knows how I long to simplify,
Celebrate and simplify…
And my song shall simplify…
But I refuse, refuse to make it easy!


LEONARD BERNSTEIN'S TEXT
(Italian Translation)

INVOCAZIONE

VOCE RECITANTE:
(Testo scritto dal compositore)

O, Padre mio: vecchio, venerato,
Solitario, Padre deluso:
Padrone dell'Universo, tradito e reietto:
Antica maestà irata e rugosa
Voglio pregare:
Voglio recitare il Kaddish.
Il mio Kaddish. Forse non
Vi sarà nessuno che lo reciterà dopo di me.

Ho così poco tempo, come tu ben sai.
Alla mia fine manca un minuto? Un'ora?
Vi è forse tempo per considerare la questione?
Potrebbe succedere qui, mentre cantiamo,
Che veniamo interrotti, una volta per tutte.
Potremmo essere stroncati, mentre ti lodiamo.
Ma finché respiro, seppur per poco,
Canterò questo Kiddish per te,
Per me, e per tutti coloro che amo,
Qui, in questa casa sacra.

Voglio pregare, e il tempo è breve.
Yit' gadal v'yit'kadash sh'mé raba...

VOCE RECITANTE

Amen! Amen! Lo hai udito padre?
"Sh'lama raba! Possa una pace infinita
Scendere su di noi. Amen."

Gran Dio,
Tu che crei la pace negli alti cieli,
Che comandi il mattino da quando iniziarono i giorni,
E fai sì che che l'alba conosca il suo posto.

Certamente puoi comandare
Un poco di ordine quaggiù,
Su questo attonito angolo di terra,
E lascia che ripetiamo: Amen.

II. DIN-TORAH

VOCE RECITANTE:

Con Amen sulle mie labbra, mi avvicino
Alla tua presenza, o Padre, senza paura,
Ma con una certa rispettosa ira,
Non riconosci la mia voce?
Sono quella parte dell'uomo che tu creasti
Per suggerire la sua immortalità.

Rammenti, Padre? Quella parte
Che rifiuta la morte, che crede sempre in te,
Che intuisce la tua voce, che indovina la tua grazia,
E sempre tu hai udito la mia voce,
E sempre mi hai risposto
Con un arcobaleno, un corvo, una pestilenza, qualcosa.
Ma ora non vedo nulla. Questa volta
Non mi mostri nulla.

Mi ascolti, Padre? Sai chi sono;
La tua immagine; quell'ostinato tuo riflesso
Che l'Uomo ha frantumato, estinto, scacciato.
Ed ora egli corre libero - libero di giocare
Con il fuoco riscoperto, avido della morte.
Signore Dio degli Eserciti, te ne chiedo ragione!
Tu hai permesso che accadesse, Dio degli Eserciti!

Con la tua manna, la tua colonna di fuoco!
Tu chiedi la fede; dov'è la tua?
Perchè ci hai tolto il tuo arcobaleno,
Quel grazioso arco che hai legato intorno al dito
Per ricordarti di non dimenticare la tua promessa?

"Quindi guarda, pongo il mio arco nel cielo...
Ed io lo guarderò, nel cielo, affinché io
Possa ricordare il mio patto eterno..."
Il tuo patto! Il tuo accordo con l'Uomo!
Dio di latta! Il tuo accordo è nient'altro che latta!
Si piega nelle mie mani!
E dov'è ora la fede - la tua o la mia?

VOCE RECITANTE:

Perdonami, o Padre, ero furioso per la febbre.
Ti ho ferito? Perdonami;
Avevo dimenticato che anche tu sei vulnerabile.
Ma è stato tuo il primo errore, quello di aver creato
L'Uomo a tua immagine e somiglianza, gracile,
Portato ad errare. Buon Dio, come devi soffrire,
Così lontano, mentre afflitto osservi
La tua creazione bipede - fragile, sciocca,
Mortale.
Padre mio addolorato,
Se solo potessi confortarti,
Stringerti a me,
E cullarti fino a farti addormentare...

VOCE RECITANTE:

Riposa, Padre mio, dormi, sogna.
Lascia che io inventi il tuo sogno, che lo sogni
Insieme a te, il più dolcemente possibile.
E forse, sognando, ti potrò aiutare a
Ricreare la tua immagine, ad amarla nuovamente.

III. SCHERZO

VOCE RECITANTE:

Ti condurrò alla tua stella prediletta.
Un mondo degno della tua creazione.
E mano nella mano osservermo meravigliati
L'operare della perfezione.
Questo è il tuo Regno dei Cieli, Padre.
Proprio come lo hai creato.
Tutti gli stereotipi immortali sono intatti.
Gli agnelli saltellano. Il grano ondeggia.
I raggi di sole danzano.
Qualcosa non va.
La luce: morta. L'aria: sterile.
Sai cos'è che non va? Non c'è nulla da
    Sognare.
Nessun luogo dove andare.
Niente da sapere.
E queste, le creature del tuo Regno,
Queste persone sorridenti, serene e senza affanni -
Anche loro sono create a tua immagine?
Tu sei la serenità, ma sei anche l'ira
Io lo so. L'ho subita.
Sei la speranza, ma sei anche il rammarico.
Io lo so. Ti sei pentito di me.
Ma non di questi - i perfetti:
Essi si trovano al di là del rimorso, o della speranza.
Non esistono, Padre, neanche ad anni luce di distanza
Nei nostri sogni.

Ora lascia che io ti mostri un sogno da ricordare!
Torna con me, alla Stella del Rimorso:
Torna, Padre, dove il sogno è realtà,
Ed il dolore è possibile - talmente possibile
Che dovrai crederci! E nel dolore
Finalmente riconoscerai la tua immagine.

Ora osserva il Regno Terreno!
Meraviglie vere! Meraviglie autentiche!
Stupefacenti miracoli!
Guarda, un Arbusto Rovente!
Guarda, un Cerchio di Fuoco!
Un Montone! Una Roccia! La colpisco? Ecco!
Sgorga! Sgorga! Ed io ne sono la causa!
Sono io a creare questo sogno
Ora, credi?

Ti tengo, Padre, rinchiuso nel mio sogno,
E lì devi rimanere fino alla scena finale...
Ora! Alza gli occhi! Che cosa vedi?
Un arcobaleno che ho creato per te!
La mia promessa, il mio patto!
Contemplalo, o Padre: Credi! Credi!
Guarda il mio arcobaleno e ripeti dopo di me:
CHE SIA MAGNIFICATO ...E SANTIFICATO...
IL GRANDE NOME DELL'UOMO.

I colori dei miei arcobaleni sono accecanti, Padre,
E ti fanno dolere gli occhi, lo so.
Ma non chiuderli ora. Non ti voltare.
Guarda, Vedi come diventa tutto semplice e sereno
Una volta che credi?

Credi!

Credi!

VOCE RECITANTE:

Non svegliarti ancora! Quantunque grande sia il tuo dolore,
Ti aiuterò io a sopportarlo.

O Dio, credi. Credi in me.
E vedrai il Regno dei Cieli
Sulla Terra, proprio com'era nel tuo intento.
Credi...Credi...

Guarda come il mio arcobaleno illumina la scena.
La voce dei tuoi figli risuona
In ogni luogo, cantando la tua lode.

VOCE RECITANTE:

La luce dell'arcobaleno si affievolisce. Il nostro sogno è finito.
Ora ci dobbiamo svegliare; e l'alba è fredda.

FINALE

VOCE RECITANTE:

L'alba è fredda, ma l'alba è giunta.
Padre, abbiamo vinto un altro giorno.
Abbiamo sognato il nostro Kaddish,
    e ci siamo risvegliati, vivi.
Buongiorno, Padre. Possiamo ancora essere immortali,

Tu ed io, uniti dal nostro arcobaleno. Quello è il nostro patto, e nell'onorarlo
Sta il nostro onore...Non proprio il patto
Che avevamo concordato, tanto tempo fa,
Al tempo dell'Altro, Primo Arcobaleno,
Ma allora ero solo il tuo bambino indifeso,
Le braccia strette intorno a te, morto senza di te,
Siamo invecchiati entrambi, tu ed io.
Ed io non sono triste, e non devi esserlo
Neanche tu.
Distendi la fronte, guarda di nuovo con tenerezza.
A me, a noi, a tutti questi figli
Di Dio qui in questa casa sacra.
Ed anche noi ti guarderemo con tenerezza.

O Padre mio; Signore della Luce:
Amata Maestà: la mia immagine ed il mio stesso Essere!
Siamo un tutt'uno, in fondo, io e te.
Insieme soffriamo, insieme esistiamo,
Ed eternamente ci ricreeremo l'un l'altro!
Soffrire, e ricrearci l'un l'altro!


LEONARD BERNSTEIN ON:
KADDISH

What is a father in the eyes of a child? The child feels: My father is first of all my Authority, with power to dispense approval or punishment. He is secondly my Protector; thirdly my Provider; beyond that he is Healer, Comforter, Law-giver, because he caused me to exist. And as the child grows up he retains all his life, in some deep, deep part of him, the stamp of that father-image whenever he thinks of God, of good and evil, or retribution. For example, take the idea of defiance. Every son, at one point or other defies his father, fights him, departs form him, only to return to him - if he is lucky - closer and more secure than before. Again we see clearly the parallel with God: Moses protesting to God, arguing, fighting to change God's mind. So the child defies the father and something of that defiance also remains throughout his life. (HB claims these words represent LB's thinking aloud about Kaddish which he was composing at the time) [Tribute to Samuel J. Bernstein. August 1961 in HB pg. 326- 327]

On August 1st, I made the great decision to go forward with Kaddish, to try and finish it, score it, rehearse, prepare, revise, translate into Hebrew...It's a monstrous task: I've been copying it out legibly for the copyists, night and day and now it's ready, except for a rather copious finale that remains to be written.. I'm terribly excited about the new piece, even about the Speaker's text, which I finally decided has to be done by me. Collaboration with a poet is impossible on so personal a work, so I've found after a distressful year of trying with Lowell and Seidel; so I'm elected, poet or no poet. But the reactions of various people to whom I've read it have been so moving (and moved) that I was encouraged to keep at it. I think you'll be surprised by its power. [Letter to Shirley Bernstein, August 10, 1963 in HB pg. 336]

It's been an unbelievable experience - we are all exhausted [Letter to Helen Coates. After Kaddish premier, Tel Aviv, Dec. 13, 1963]

FANTASTIC SUCCESS WITH PUBLIC AND PRESS DESPITE SHAKY FIRST PERFORMANCE. STOP SPREAD THE WORD [Letter to Helen Coates. Cable re: Kaddish premier, Tel Aviv, Dec. 11, 1963]

I think the Psalms are like an infantile version of Kaddish, if you know what I mean. They are very simple, very tonal, very direct, almost babyish in some ways and therefore it stands perilously on the brink of being sentimental if wrongly performed." (Interview with J. Goldsmith, R.A. Hall, and R. Allen re: symphonies, for Columbia Records Convention, Aug. 3, 1965)

I love Kaddish - I think it's a beautiful work but I'm not at all satisfied with the text. And God knows I tried everything not to write it myself.... I worked with Cal Lowell. And he actually wrote 3 poems for it. He wrote 3 very beautiful poems but they're you know, lyric poems of a certain obscurity which would not have served the purpose of immediacy which was needed in the concert hall with a piece like that. That immediately communicates with the audience. They were too literary and he realized it too.... After having written these 3 beautiful poems, he said I'm not the man for you and I have a young disciple, a friend named Freddy Siedell who is absolutely perfect for this.

And so he put me and Siedel together and we worked for months and Siedel works like at the rate of one word a week. Very very slow and what was coming out was so little in the first place that I knew it would never get done in time for the performance that fall. And also I wasn't crazy about what was coming out. I didn't like the images and it was all full of black saxophones - it just - it sounded wrong and old fashioned in another way. Finally I had to do it myself. And I worked very very hard. And some of it is good. Some of it is much better than has been said by very angry critics. I've never seen criticisms such as Kaddish had. [Intv. w/ John Gruen, Ansedonia Italy, 1967. Tape # 11, side A pg. 1 - 8]

In my fervor to make it [Kaddish] immediately communicative to the audience, I made it over communicative. So that.. there are embarrassing moments. Even I am embarrassed when I hear the record here and there. And I know Felicia had moments which I changed which she just couldn't say. They were so over verbose and I did enormous cutting. But it's still too much and it's still too corny is the only word I can find. And I do wish I could revise it or find somebody who could revise it well and cut it down. [Intv. w/ John Gruen, Ansedonia Italy, 1967. Tape # 11, side A pg. 1 - 8]

Obviously [the biblical thing interested me]. I mean I keep coming back to it. I've written 2 works in the last 10 years, can you imagine since I took the Philharmonic which was at the point when I finished West Side Story. Since then I've written 2 works, neither of them for the theater in all that time. And one was Kaddish and one is the Chichester Psalms - they're both biblical in a way. So obviously something keeps making me go back to that book. [Intv. w/ John Gruen, Ansedonia Italy, 1967. Tape # 11, side A pg. 1 - 8]

[The reason for the new version of the Kaddish Symphony is] because I wasn't satisfied with the old version. There was too much talk... The piece is essentially the same except better. It is tighter, shorter, there are cuts, there is some musical re-writing and a lot of re-writing of the spoken text. [The speaker is also now a man but] I did not change from a woman to a man. I changed so that it could be either... The original idea was that it was a woman because it was 'das ewig Weibliche'. It was that part of man that intuits God - you see what I mean? And then I realized that that was too limiting. So I made it for either. [Berlin Press Conference, September 12, 1977]

But Kaddish is the most extended 12-tone writing of any piece I have ever done. [Berlin Press Conference, September 12, 1977]

The most striking example of [my writing 12 tone music] is Kaddish - my third symphony. It contains a great deal of highly complex carefully worked out [music] according to the Schoenbergian system, twelve tone music. As a matter of fact I remember when it was first played in Boston, the American premier of the symphony with Charles Munch conducting. A whole group of young composers who were at the time considering themselves very avant-garde artists, who had gotten wind of the fact that I had finally written a twelve tone piece, came to all of the rehearsals in a body. Arthur Berger, Harold Shapero, Leon Kirschner, the Harvard group, the Brandeis group, and they were all terribly excited until about the midpoint of the symphony when the second Kaddish, which is sung by a soprano and which is a lullaby and completely tonal, appeared, and they all threw up their hands in despair and said, oh, well, there it goes. That's the end of that piece......... Of course they didn't understand at all that one of the main points of the piece is that the agony expressed with the twelve tone music has to give way -- this is part of the form of the piece -- to tonality and diatonicism even so that what triumphs in the end, the affirmation of faith is tonal. [Intv. w/ Peter Rosen, 1977. Reflections pg 52 - 57]

I find the word eclectic has been grossly misconceived and misused. Now, in the case of Kaddish there was a real point - which I didn't decide on deliberately because as I say I don't make stylistic decisions but it came out quite unconsciously and the way all art comes out unconsciously and it's only after the unconscious period that the conscious mind takes over and makes a form, puts it all into viable shapes. During [the] period of writing Kaddish it was, it's obvious to me now that at that point the tremendous agony of the dialogue with God which occupies the main portion of Kaddish had to be expressed in the expressionistic and well Schoenbergian if you like, or Bergen manner. And as the piece went through its agony towards its climax and then its gradual resolution into a reaffirmation of another kind of faith it became increasingly diatonic and it isn't just that the music became more diatonic, it's that the same music which was twelve tone evolved slowly, very, very gradually into diatonic music, but it was always the same piece. And this I know only by looking back it and having an objective view of the piece so that I can analyze it as a musicologist would. .[Intv. w/ Peter Rosen, 1977. Reflections pg 52 - 57]

There was a period, that was of course, during '62 and '63 that I was writing that piece while I was still music director of the Philharmonic, and as I was finishing the final amens of the jubilant fugue which concludes the piece, the news came of the assassination of Jack Kennedy which threw me for a loop..... At that moment, I realized that I had to dedicate the piece to the beloved memory of this man whom I did indeed love very much. .... This brings up the whole problem of what music had to do with current affairs, with politics, with whatever, and it really has little if anything to do except as a great time capsule -- an artistic incarnation of a given period in history.[Intv. w/ Peter Rosen, 1977. Reflections pg 52 - 57]

I have very good luck with my colleagues, they are all so wonderful. Miss Hendricks, my soprano in Kaddish, I think was born to sing that note, that line. It is so fine and sensitive. She has all the breaths under control to sing that very difficult lullaby, and Michael Wager who does the speaking which is no small job. It's a much bigger job than Miss Hendricks because he never stops, he never shuts up. He is, I suppose, my voice and he has a tremendous argument with God, which many people find too strong or maybe even blasphemous. But which is in the old Judaistic tradition. I mean all our great Judaistic personalities of the past including Abraham who founded Judaism, and Moses and the prophets all argued with God. They argued with God the way you argue with somebody who's so close to you that you love so much, that you can really fight. You know how the more you love someone the more you can get angry with them and when you have a reconciliation, the more close you become than ever. Something like that happens in the course of this piece and it takes a really extraordinary actor to be able to perform that. [Intv. w/ NHK TV, Hiroshima Peace Journey, 1985 TC. 24:20]

[I wrote the libretto myself as well as composing the piece]. That's what I mean by the speaker representing my voice. I originally wrote it to be spoken by my wife and I wrote it for a woman although women are not officially supposed to say Kaddish in the old tradition.... Only the man stood up and said Kaddish for his dead father and mother but that's one old tradition I didn't stick to. [Intv. w/ NHK TV, Hiroshima Peace Journey, 1985 TC. 24:20]

I wrote it for [a woman] because the essence of the speaker was the female side of all persons male or female. We all have this female side that is more intuitive and not so reliant on logical thought process, but I'm not saying that that's inferior in any way. ..... So I wrote it for that side of man, the female side, which guesses God's grace and hears his voice, not the way Jeremiah or the great prophets .. the voice inside.

I wrote it for [Felicia] because I love her and also because she was a very great actress and I have even much more outspokenly feminine roles at the time. She compares herself in the text with the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley, quotes from the Song of Songs from the Bible and there were many references to her femininity. Which have now been taken out since she died. I could not find a woman that could ever replace her because she was unique. More than that I cannot say, she was one person in the history of the world - that was Felicia. I would never let another actress do it so I changed it, I revised it to be a man and Michael Wager, who has always been very close to our family and had a particularly close relationship with Felicia, took over the role. I took out the female references only - not all. I took out the out-spoken obvious, evidence regarding this like the Rose of Sharon. But I left in, he says: 'I am that part of man -- you may, who guesses your grace.' That's the female side [Intv. w/ NHK TV, Hiroshima Peace Journey, 1985 TC. 24:20]

I'm proud of [the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra] and close to them and spiritually somehow akin, whether we play Mozart or my own Kaddish Symphony (the best performance of Kaddish I've ever heard).....[ Harvard's 350th Anniversary Dinner Speech October 10, 1986]

[The speaker] represents Man, or that part of Man God made to suggest his immortality.. the part that refuses death, that insists on God. [Intv. (?) 1987 in Gradenwitz, pg. 159]

.