Jewish Bluegrass

Lovers of the banjo, fiddle and mandolin blend cultural identity and religious faith to create a uniquely American sound

  • By Jen Miller
  • Smithsonian.com, September 24, 2009, Subscribe
 
Jewish bluegrass banjo
“Jewgrass" is the fusion of bluegrass music with Hebrew lyrics and is played by a diverse group of old-time and bluegrass musicians. (iStockphoto)

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Lucky Break combines Appalachian music with Shabbat Z'mirot (Sabbath songs)

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This Passover, my friend Lester Feder sat at the head of his family’s Seder table, strumming away on his banjo and belting out Hebrew lyrics with a big-voiced Appalachian twang. As a bluegrass and old-time musician myself, I was familiar with Lester’s wailing sound. As a Jew, I’d been to countless Seders. But the transposition of these traditions was like nothing I’d ever imagined.

For Feder, a Northern Virginia native, fusing his American identity with his religious heritage through music was a natural development. “I feel far more connected to the old time traditions of the upper South than the Ashkenazi traditions of Eastern Europe,” he said. “I wanted to make a Seder that was my own.”

“Jewgrass,” as this fusion is sometimes called, is played by a diverse group of old-time and bluegrass musicians. Among them are New York City Jews who grew up during the 1960s folk revival, orthodox Jews who sing Hebrew prayers set to bluegrass melodies and klezmer musicians who infuse their music with Appalachian fiddle tunes. These lovers of the banjo, the fiddle and the mandolin have found a uniquely American way to express their Jewish cultural identity and religious faith.

Feder, who holds a doctorate in musicology from the University of California, Los Angeles, says African slaves brought the banjo to the United States and with it, the frailing style (banjo strings are brushed downward with the back of the fingers or nails) associated with old-time music. Old-time, the precursor to bluegrass, developed in America during the 19th and early 20th centuries, incorporating the musical traditions of African-American, Irish, English and Scottish communities. Bluegrass emerged in the 1930s when Kentucky native Bill Monroe fused old-time music with blues and jazz influences to create a new sound. Unlike old-time, which emphasizes the fiddle and melody, bluegrass music’s distinctive features are instrumental solos and bluegrass banjo—a hard-driving style in which the player picks with three fingers.

Over time, this music became associated with a romanticized notion of rural America: people sitting on their back porches strumming the banjo, living “authentic” country lives. Jews were drawn to this music, partly because of the romanticized ideal. “Jews are a religious minority in largely Christian country,” Feder says. “Southern music has been a way for them to connect to that mainstream American identity.”

Bluegrass lyrics celebrate country living, but many of the people singing them are city folk. Jerry Wicentowski grew up in Brooklyn in the 1960s and fell in love with bluegrass during the folk revival. For religious Jews like Wicentowski, there was a rebellious element to being a fan of the music. Bluegrass became his escape. During the week, he studied at an insular yeshiva; on the weekends he played guitar in Washington Square Park.

After earning a Master’s degree in Hebrew and Semitic Studies and then drifting away from Judaism, a series of life events led Wicentowski to return to religion. Eventually, he found himself a man with two strong identities: a Jew and a bluegrass musician. He began to fuse the two. Wicentowski worked on an album with mandolin virtuoso Andy Statman called “Shabbos in Nashville,” which featured Jewish songs in the style of 1950s bluegrass. Later, he founded his own band, Lucky Break. The Minnesota-based quartet bills itself as “uniquely American, uniquely Jewish,” by mixing “the stark beauty of Appalachian music with Shabbat Z’mirot,” or Sabbath songs.

Robbie Ludwick, a Hassidic Jew from Silver Spring, Maryland, is the only Jew in his current band, The Zion Mountain Boys. Ludwick lives in an orthodox community, davens daily and spends most of his free time playing the mandolin. His band mates have impressive independent music careers but are drawn to the unique sound of Ludwick’s music—songs that blend traditional bluegrass with Hassidic melodies called niguns.


This Passover, my friend Lester Feder sat at the head of his family’s Seder table, strumming away on his banjo and belting out Hebrew lyrics with a big-voiced Appalachian twang. As a bluegrass and old-time musician myself, I was familiar with Lester’s wailing sound. As a Jew, I’d been to countless Seders. But the transposition of these traditions was like nothing I’d ever imagined.

For Feder, a Northern Virginia native, fusing his American identity with his religious heritage through music was a natural development. “I feel far more connected to the old time traditions of the upper South than the Ashkenazi traditions of Eastern Europe,” he said. “I wanted to make a Seder that was my own.”

“Jewgrass,” as this fusion is sometimes called, is played by a diverse group of old-time and bluegrass musicians. Among them are New York City Jews who grew up during the 1960s folk revival, orthodox Jews who sing Hebrew prayers set to bluegrass melodies and klezmer musicians who infuse their music with Appalachian fiddle tunes. These lovers of the banjo, the fiddle and the mandolin have found a uniquely American way to express their Jewish cultural identity and religious faith.

Feder, who holds a doctorate in musicology from the University of California, Los Angeles, says African slaves brought the banjo to the United States and with it, the frailing style (banjo strings are brushed downward with the back of the fingers or nails) associated with old-time music. Old-time, the precursor to bluegrass, developed in America during the 19th and early 20th centuries, incorporating the musical traditions of African-American, Irish, English and Scottish communities. Bluegrass emerged in the 1930s when Kentucky native Bill Monroe fused old-time music with blues and jazz influences to create a new sound. Unlike old-time, which emphasizes the fiddle and melody, bluegrass music’s distinctive features are instrumental solos and bluegrass banjo—a hard-driving style in which the player picks with three fingers.

Over time, this music became associated with a romanticized notion of rural America: people sitting on their back porches strumming the banjo, living “authentic” country lives. Jews were drawn to this music, partly because of the romanticized ideal. “Jews are a religious minority in largely Christian country,” Feder says. “Southern music has been a way for them to connect to that mainstream American identity.”

Bluegrass lyrics celebrate country living, but many of the people singing them are city folk. Jerry Wicentowski grew up in Brooklyn in the 1960s and fell in love with bluegrass during the folk revival. For religious Jews like Wicentowski, there was a rebellious element to being a fan of the music. Bluegrass became his escape. During the week, he studied at an insular yeshiva; on the weekends he played guitar in Washington Square Park.

After earning a Master’s degree in Hebrew and Semitic Studies and then drifting away from Judaism, a series of life events led Wicentowski to return to religion. Eventually, he found himself a man with two strong identities: a Jew and a bluegrass musician. He began to fuse the two. Wicentowski worked on an album with mandolin virtuoso Andy Statman called “Shabbos in Nashville,” which featured Jewish songs in the style of 1950s bluegrass. Later, he founded his own band, Lucky Break. The Minnesota-based quartet bills itself as “uniquely American, uniquely Jewish,” by mixing “the stark beauty of Appalachian music with Shabbat Z’mirot,” or Sabbath songs.

Robbie Ludwick, a Hassidic Jew from Silver Spring, Maryland, is the only Jew in his current band, The Zion Mountain Boys. Ludwick lives in an orthodox community, davens daily and spends most of his free time playing the mandolin. His band mates have impressive independent music careers but are drawn to the unique sound of Ludwick’s music—songs that blend traditional bluegrass with Hassidic melodies called niguns.

Ludwick connects with the themes of redemption, faith, and fortitude expressed in Southern music. Before Ludwick found his way to Orthodox Judaism, he was a heavy metal rocker and self-described misfit. Today, he’s a father of three. “There’s a love of family, nature, and the land in bluegrass,” he says. “It’s wholesome.”

Jerry Wicentowski’s band also has non-Jewish members. Because Lucky Break has a largely Hebrew repertoire, he writes out lyrics phonetically. Still, it’s not easy to fit Hebrew lyrics to bluegrass melodies. Hebrew is a terse, sharp language; Hebrew twang is an oxymoron. “Structurally, it’s hard to put the stress on the right syllable,” Wicentowski says.

Religious restrictions also make it difficult for some Jewish bluegrass musicians to build a career. Judaism forbids playing musical instruments on Shabbat, which spans from sunset Friday evening through sunset Saturday evening. This is especially problematic in the summer months, when most of the bluegrass and old time festivals are held and the days are longer. Because of these restrictions, Lucky Break and The Zion Mountain Boys play most of their performances at Jewish venues and occasionally reach broader audiences.

Margot Leverett and the Klezmer Mountain Boys, a klezmer-bluegrass fusion band based in Manhattan, play various venues around New York City. Klezmer is the secular, festive music of Eastern European Jews, and its sound has much in common with fast-paced fiddle tunes of old-time music and the hard-driving banjo of bluegrass. Margot Leverett, the band’s clarinetist, calls it “dancing music.” It’s hard to feel unhappy—or sit still—when listening to a live performance. But Hassidic niguns and old-time ballads that Leverett also loves, share a darker connection.

Historically, she says, “Jews and Southern Appalachian people have a lot in common. They’ve been driven out of their homes, have lived hard lives, and have used music for strength.” Leverett’s vibrant blue eyes tear up when she talks about the displacement that poor Southerners experienced in the 1920s, when they were forced to leave their homes and seek out work in the cities. “There’s the same homesickness in Jewish folk songs,” she says.

“American life allows different groups to be inspired and influenced by one another,” Wicentowski says. “This isn’t an uncommon thing in American experience and it’s not uncommon in the Jewish experience,” he adds. “Jews have done this wherever we’ve gone over the millennium.”


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Comments (16)

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Don't believe none of this history distortion. The concept of the banjo came from the middle east. People in the appalachias perfected it and made it what it is. And jewish people have absolutely nothing to do with the creation of bluegrass. Most of the settlers in the asppalachias came from Ireland, Scotland, Germany, --nordic peoples. Bluegrass is Irish in origin. It's rediculous how people lie and try to change the facts. It's disgusting. Rock and blues came from bluegrass as well. It spread all over the country from the appalachias. "Jewgrass"? What a laugh. We have proof here from old, dated diaries of what came from where and who came up with what. These diaries will be offered as proof and shut up all the thieves and liars. A lot of our food culture has been stolen from the appalachias as well. New Yorker crowd try and lay claim to everything, and if it's too rediculous, then they claim "slaves". LOL

Posted by NotTrue on April 1,2013 | 11:33 AM

What an amazing fusion of eastern European Jewish music and Bluegrass.As a musician myself (Scottish Bagpipes) I am intrigued.

Posted by Don Taylor on August 23,2011 | 08:33 PM

Slight correction to Aaron Haimovitz's post: though Tony Trischka is a brilliantly innovative banjo player, who has made unquestionably significant contributions to bluegrass music, as well as a wonderfully kind, caring, witty, and intelligent person, he has no ancestral, cultural, nor religious connection to Judaism. (A family member has confirmed this.)

Posted by Rick Riman on August 23,2011 | 02:21 PM

Keep up the soulful tunes... Spread positivity all over the world!

Posted by Hamodia on June 20,2011 | 02:50 PM

Not being familiar with this particular crossover music, I enjoyed the article immensley. I understand this kind of music. As a young girl I danced with a group that did the Romanian National Dance and the music was wonderful. I love Eastern European gypsy violins and appreciate banjo very much. I've had the pleasure of seeing Bela Fleck live and appreciate all the albums of the Applacian Waltz, etc.which also included YoYo Ma. amazing. thanks again

Posted by violet kanoff on May 13,2010 | 08:43 PM

Great to see the kind of coverage OUR kind of music is getting these days. It's understandable that not every band made it into the article though we were disappointed that our band, Shalom Feivel and Rocky Mountain Jewgrass, was left out. We consider ourselves among the originators of Jewgrass music and certainly the leading band west of the eastern states. Check us out at www.rockymountainjewgrass.com.

Posted by Saul Rosenthal on February 14,2010 | 05:10 PM

As a fellow MOT and bluegrass lover...there are alot of other Jewish musicians who are not mentioned here that are awesome at bluegrass... Bela Fleck, David Grisman and Tony Trischka...

Posted by Aaron Haimovitz on January 28,2010 | 03:33 PM

I find it interesting that there was no mention of the Fabrangen Fiddlers, who originally brought Jewish bluegrass to the Washington, DC area in 1971. Reb David Shneyer and I were responsible for that innovation, as many of our loyal fans will affirm.

Posted by Alan Oresky on October 27,2009 | 08:03 PM

Our band was among the first to apply this approach to klezmer music (though we use a clawhammer, not bluegrass, banjo). Check out the following CDs: (1) The Flower of Berezin (http://cdbaby.com/cd/freilachmakers); (2) And I in the Uttermost West (http://cdbaby.com/cd/freilachmakers2); and (3) Shalom Ireland by Ceilizemer, which included two Freilachmakers (http://cdbaby.com/cd/ceilizemer).

Andy Rubin
The Freilachmakers Klezmer String Band
www.freilachmakers.com

Posted by Andy Rubin on October 13,2009 | 11:47 AM

Just a small 400-mile correction. Lucky Break's home town is Milwaukee, WI, not Minnesota.

Posted by Jerry Wicentowski on October 9,2009 | 01:04 PM

Tennessee Schmaltz, our klezmer band based in Knoxville, Tennessee, has been performing a blend of various genres since 1995. Some of our pieces are Rollin in my Sweet Bubbe's Arms, Dueling Clarinets, and Reconstituted Orange Blossom Special. We are currently the only Klezmer band in the world that features a washtub bass.

Posted by Robert Heller on October 9,2009 | 12:14 PM

Great to see this piece. These are links to several things I've written about Statman over the years (the first two for the Chicago Tribune), for anyone interested in reading a little more.

http://davidroyko.webs.com/statmantrib1994.htm
http://davidroyko.webs.com/statmantrib2007.htm
http://davidroyko.webs.com/musramoct406.htm

Dave Royko
http://davidroyko.webs.com/

Posted by David Royko on October 9,2009 | 11:19 AM

One of my favorite CD's is Wonder Wheel by the Klezmatics. Woody Guthrie songs. Awesome.

Posted by Kirk Price on October 8,2009 | 09:33 PM

It is so nice to hear that America is not really a melting pot, but rather more of a stew, where each culture can maintain its own identity adding wonderful flavors to the pot while still keeping the contents of the American pot loyal to the US. I love this music and hope to hear more of it. Thanks to Smithsonian for featuring the sound as well as the story behind it.

Posted by Ronda Shiffrin on October 8,2009 | 07:33 PM



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