When the family lived in Los Angeles, the tzaddik showed early signs of what was to come. Only it was a bit more theatrical down there in Southern California. The tzaddik produced an opera, believe it or not—the opera David, by Darius Milhaud—at the Hollywood Bowl. He even borrowed back the bible story engravings that…
Since Mira and I first met in person several weeks ago, we’ve been planning to start doing Kaddish recordings together occasionally—to start emphasizing the “two-part harmony” of our project title. We released our first collaborative recording last night in daily kaddish: for all the foster children who don’t quite make it.
Tonight’s Kaddish marks the first time that the “kaddish in two-part harmony” was created live, in person, in true two-part harmony. Mira and I agreed this should be a Kaddish for all the foster children who don’t quite make it. The heartbreaking story she posted from her own experience as a foster child earlier today (a kaddish for foster care children) gives the background information for that decision.
A kaddish for all the sons and daughters Japan has lost and will continue losing in the aftermath of this devastation, whose enormous universal scale I cannot comprehend, whose personal scale is also enormous in its minute detail. On how we use scale-slipping to cope with tragedy. A reply to Mira’s kaddish one daughter at a time.
Something unexpected happened a few weekends ago. I asked Mira to record the text of the Mourner’s Kaddish for me, and she did, and then everything changed. We are nearing the end of the first three months. We have almost ten months to go on this daily musical exchange, according to the Julian calendar, because this is a leap year in the Hebrew calendar, which adds not just a leap day but a whole leap month. And after what felt like a lifetime of awful recordings to both of us, we’re both starting to enjoy the music.