Am Shofar Chai

A shofar blast makes an effective introduction to a new recording of Am Yisrael Chai, available online as part of a fundraiser for cancer research and treatment programs at Pioneers for a Cure. The group has recorded Zionist pioneering songs from pre-1949 Israel, arranged and performed by current Israeli and Jewish musicians.

Listen carefully for a shofar reprise as the final note on the recording.

35,000 year-old Musical Instruments Discovered

The discovery of flutes from paleolithic Germany, 35,000 years ago, push back the known origins of musical instruments. The bone and mammoth ivory from which the horns were made are more durable than the horns from which shofarot were made, but a culture that could have made a comparatively complicated flute (with five finger holes) could also have made simple shofarot (with only one opening).

The article, from Science Daily says, "The presence of music in the lives of Upper Paleolithic peoples did not directly produce a more effective subsistence economy and greater reproductive success, but music seems to have contributed to improved social cohesion and new forms of communication, which indirectly contributed to demographic expansion of modern humans..."

Coming to a Movie Theater Near You

I have cut my first recording of shofar. EVDR, Inc., an independent sound effects firm working for a major Hollywood movie studio, has recorded me shofaring, in a hunt for unique sounds to use in a major animated motion picture.

The experience provided me with a new shofarastic experience. The producer and two microphone boom operators listened with such intensity, that I tuned into hearing the sounds I was making. This was a different type of hearing than during the Days of Awe. Then I listen for the call inside the call, the still small voice that will awaken my soul and ring God's door bell. Instead, this session focused on raw sound.

I brought a dozen horns with me, ranging from a 4-inches long goat horn to a 24-inches long ibex horn, an assortment of sheep horns, and a cow horn for good measure. I was amazed at the different tonal qualities of the various instruments.

While I began with the tekiah, shevarim, teruah of the Days of Awe, we were quickly into new territory. The director would request, "Make the shofar sound Glory. Fear. Triumph. Mystery." (unaware, perhaps, that all these are themes of the Rosh Hashanah blasts). Create unusual sounds, different sequences, look for the blue note between tones."

I demonstrated the magical gurgling sound that occurs when I blow a shofar that is full of water. I blew two and even three shofarot together to create interesting sonorities. We used the shofar as a percussion instrument, using the thin end of one to scrape against the ridged back of another. While taking a rest, I was idling cupping my hand on the wide end of a horn, and the mic man got excited, asking me to make that popping sound again.

I thought blowing 100 toots on Rosh Hashanah was a lot. Here, I played for more than an hour, until the muscles in my lips plain wore out. Then, at my suggestion, each of the recordists took turns blowing. They created sounds that were amazingly different than mine - inspiring me to come up with other new sounds. For example, shaking the horn from side to side as I blow it, creating a warbling sound.

So listen up. If you think that sound effect in a movie is a shofar, well it could be me making my big screen debut.

Shofaristically Speaking

In writing my book, Shofar: The Still Small Voice of the Ram's Horn, I found it useful to construct words to expand my shofarstic language. While not all of the following were actually used in the manuscript, they are offered here as a work in progress to expand our thinking about shofarical matters.

Please help me expand the list and create better definitions of the terms or sentances to demonstrate them.
protoshofar
retroshofar
anteshofar
preshofar
postshofar
semishofar
quasishofar
reshofar
shofaring
polyshofar
bishofar
unshofar

shofaricious
shofaration
shofarescent
shofariferous
shofarile
shofarity
shofaroid
shofarosis
shofarous
shofaritude
shofarent
shofarest
shofarness
shofarment
shofarista
shofarnik
shofarer - comparative term; The long horn made a shofarer sound.

NOUNS
shofars or shofarot
shofardom - the realm of the shofarist
shofarity - the quality of shofar
shofarment - the state of being transformed by hearing shofar
shofarness - the state of being shofar
shofarsion or shofarence - act or incidence of blowing shofar
shofarer or shofarist - one who blows shofar
shofarism - belief in shofar;

ADJECTIVES
shofarive - tending towards being shofaric
shofaren - made of shofar
shofaric or shofarical - characteristic of shofar
shofaral - relating to shofar;
shofarable - capable of being used as a shofar; While a ram's horn is traditional, that of a goat is shofarable.
shofary - having shofar qualities; The shofary melody gave us hope.
shofarful - full of shofar; Rosh Hashanah is a shofarful day.
shofarless - without shofar; It will be a shofarless shabbat.

VERBS
shofared
shofaren - to make shofarish; The trumpeter used a mute to shofaren his sound.
shofarize - to make shofarical; I use a ram's horn as Elijah's cup to shofarize Passover.
shofarate - characterized by shofar or possessing shofarish qualities; Nike shoes have a shofarate emblem.
shofarify - to cause something to become shofar; I took the raw horn and shofarified it.

ADVERB
shofarly - to do in a shofarish way. You need kavenah to blow shofarly.
shofarically

Sheep Husbandray: Shofar on the Hoof

Lessons from the Haxton's Farm:

Regrowing Horn: Unlike antlers that are shed annually, horns are usually a permanent fixture of a sheep or other horned animal. While it is not common, however, an animal can lose a horn and grow a new one. Daithi and Lorraine Haxton introduced me to one of their withers that had lost a horn, probably in an accident or while butting. The bone core of a horn is living tissue, and full of blood vessels, and the animal bleed profusely from the injury. Lorraine Haxton is a registered surgical nurse, and was able to apply a compression bandage to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. Slowly, the horn is regrowing. The new horn is stunted and will never be as long as the remaining horn. It reminds me of when I lost a toe nail, a new one eventually grew in its place, but it is slightly deformed. This news may be of interest to vegans or others who feel uncomfortable using a shofar from a slaughtered animal.

Sheep Behavior: According to Daithi Haxton, “Anyone who uses the expression, ‘they went docily, like sheep to slaughter,’ has no idea what they are talking about. It is awfully hard to get sheep to do anything. And they can be very aggressive. They have their horns and they know how to use them.”

Horns on Wethers: A “wether” is a neutered male sheep or goat. If a male sheep is being raised for meat, it is left intact because rams grow more rapidly. The Haxtons, however, are raising sheep for wool, so they wether most of their males while they are still lambs. Otherwise, they grow to be very aggressive and you can’t have more than one intact ram in a flock. Horns on wethers grow more slowly than on an intact ram.

Comparison of Ewe and Ram Horn Size: This photo [NOT YET POSTED] compares the horn size of a Blackface sheep ewe and ram of about the same age.

Blood Blister on Horn: One of my shofarot has a dark and flaking blemish on it. Stuart Ballantyne identified it as a blood blister that formed when the sheep was young and hurt his horn – probably butting something. “Have you ever hit your fingernail with a hammer? You got a blood blister under the nail. This is sort of the same thing.” If the blood blister is pronounced enough, it could create a perforation in the sidewall of a shofar, rendering it unfit for use on the Days of Awe unless it can be patched with horn in a way that does not affect the sound of the instrument.

Visit to Sheep Farm

Several years ago, while looking for horns to make into shofarot, I ran across the website of Daithi and Lorraine Haxton, owners of Dor Galen farm in Dover, Indiana. They gave me a horn, plus something much more important -- insight into earth-based spiritual practices that transcend religious dogma, including the significance of horned animals and the use of horns in ritual.

I recently spent a day at Dor Galen. In a Central Indiana landscape is dominated by large corn and soybean farms, the Haxtons use organic agricultural techniques to operate a small "fiber farm" - raising sheep, goats, and a pair of llamas (who also protect the flock from coyotes) for wool. "We tried to hire our neighbors to mow the hay in our pasture, but their tractors are too big to get through our gate," Daithi, explains about the difference in their operations. His wife adds, "They are always spraying chemicals on their fields, and it blows into our pasture. I guess they don't have manure to fertilize their fields like we do." They supplement their income by selling eggs off the front porch, and renting their livestock as a “petting zoo” – mostly for Christmas pageants and living nativities tableau. When animals are slaughtered to cull the flock, they have meat for food along with skins and horns to sell.

While Daithi, also known as Dave, plies his day job as a software programmer, Lorraine washes and combs the wool. What she can't sell as raw fiber, she spins into yarn using either a drop-spindle or spinning wheel. The sweet smell of the farm lingers on the wool, and my hands luxuriated in lanolin after handling it. She is an accomplished artist, and her beautiful pencil portraits of the farm’s animals display her love for the sheep. She can recognize from which animal – each of whom has a name – a skein of wool comes from by its color and texture. She and Daithi are trying to establish a new breed that incorporates the long-staple fiber of Blackface sheep with the softness of Dorsett sheep wool.

They are adherents of the Heathen spiritual path, a revival of belief in the ancient deities and rites of pre-Christian Northern Europe. In the same way that a Jewish home is marked by a mezuzah, theirs contains a shrine to their gods in its northeast corner, complete with a drinking horn used in their worship services. In their library, a poster of Thor depicts him in a cart drawn by horned goats, Donner and Blitzen, creatures absorbed into the Christian winter solstice observance. After dropping me off at the airport, they hurried home to prepare for summer solstice rites that include leaping over a bonfire. As they drove off, I could read the bumper sticker on the back of their pickup truck: “Thor Bless America.”

Stuart Ballantyne, a professional sheep shearer and trainer of sheep herding dogs, lives in his travel trailer parked behind the barn. Speaking with the heavy accent of his native Scotland, he is always ready with a piece of humor: In a discussion about how English names for the days of the week honor Heathen gods and goddesses (Tyr's Day, Woden's Day, Thor’s Day, Frigga’s Day, etc), he offers, “Friday should really be called Poet's Day. You know – Piss-Off Early, Tomorrow’s Saturday.” He is also a maker of fine, hand-carved sheep horn and wood walking sticks, an essential tool of a working shepherd and an elegant accessory for other folks. (See photo.)

After a great homemade lunch, including fresh vegetables from the garden, Stuart shows his slideshow about walking sticks, and I reciprocate with my slideshow, “The People of the Ram,” an illustrated history of the ovine Jewish totem animal as told in Torah. I demonstrate shofar blowing, and we get into an animated discussion of horn crafting techniques.

The visit to the farm gave me better understanding of what life might have been like among pastoral Israelites. On the farm, fortune rides on the fecundity and health of the flock. Every part of the animal is used. And there is a bond between animals and humans that is palpable. That bond also gave the four of us, seated around the dining room table, a sense of common identity. If just for a day, I got feel like a member of a sheep herding tribe.

Daithi is an ordained “Godman” in his faith and able to perform the duties of a cleric. He says it has been hard to reconstruct the historic practices of his cult because it was so suppressed by the Christian Church. “Imagine,” he explains, “that you knew nothing about Christianity, and the only guides you had to reconstruct the faith and its rituals are the first page of the Book of John and a Christmas tree ornament.”

I tell him I know exactly what he means. For although Judaism has a written record going back at least three thousand years, I have had to reconstruct must of the Jewish connection to our tribal totem animal from a few scriptural verses – our mythology – and archeological relics. When the Torah was written (and even before that when it existed as an oral tradition), no one had to explain our connection to the ram – it was pervasive. Of course there was a ram on Mount Moriah; what else would you expect – a turtle? As shepherds, we understood why God accepted Abel’s offering of a ram over Cain’s offering of vegetables.

But by the time the Mishnah and Talmud were redacted, we no longer followed the flocks. Living in their academies in Babylonia and Palestine, the Rabbi’s remembered the old myths, but their codifications about shofar blowing had lost much of the earth-based energy that our ancestors knew. Fast-forward two millennium, and most of us know lamb only as something that comes shrink-wrapped and refrigerated.

Why should the Christians be the only ones to rent the Haxton’s petting zoo? Perhaps Jews would have much to gain if, when we arrive at shul on Rosh Hashanah, there was a flock of sheep grazing on the synagogue lawn. It might remind us, as we wrap ourselves in wool tallitot, read from a scroll written on sheep skin, and listen to the blasts from a sheep’s horn, that all we have are gifts of God good earth.

Vegetable Shofarot

If you can toot a shofar, you can squeeze sound out of amost any sort of hollow tube by playing it in a similar fashion. This includes garden hoses, tea kettles, scrap pieces of electrical conduit. It's fun, and keeps your embouchure in shape throughout the year. And while mother told you not to play with your food, you can also play vegetables.

While walking on a California beach a few years ago, I found some kelp that had washed ashore. Instead of rotting like most beached kelp, these stalks had dried in a manner that preserved the hollow tubular structure of the plant. With a pocket knife, I quickly transformed several of them into "Kelp Horns," complete with curves that would do justice to Dr. Seuss.

I am not alone in fabricating vegetable aerophones, as the internet is replete with vegetable trumpets videos. And the Vienna Vegetable Orchestra has to be seen to be believed.

These thouths are brought to mind after running across a delightful poem:

Zucchini Shofar

by Sarah Lindsay

No animals were harmed in the making of this joyful noise:

A thick, twisted stem from the garden

is the wedding couple's ceremonial ram's horn.

Its substance will not survive one thousand years,

nor will the garden, which is today their temple,

nor will their names, nor their union now announced

with ritual blasts upon the zucchini shofar.

Shall we measure blessings by their duration?

Through the narrow organic channel fuzzily come

the prescribed sustained notes, short notes, rests.

All that rhythm requires. Among their talents,

the newlyweds excel at making

and serving mustard-green soup and molasses cookies,

and taking nieces and nephews for walks in the woods.

The gardener dyes eggs with onion skins,

wraps presents, tells stories, finds the best seashells;

his friends adore his paper-cuttings—

"Nothing I do will last," he says.

What is this future approval we think we need;

who made passing time our judge?

Do we want butter that endures for ages,

or butter that melts into homemade cornbread now?

—the note that rings in my deaf ear without ceasing,

or two voices abashed by the vows they undertake?

This moment's chord of earthly commotion

will never be struck exactly so again—

though love does love to repeat its favorite lines.

So let the shofar splutter its slow notes and quick notes,

let the nieces and nephews practice their flutes and trombones,

let living room pianos invite unwashed hands,

let glasses of different fullness be tapped for their different notes,

let everyone learn how to whistle,

let the girl dawdling home from her trumpet lesson

pause at the half-built house on the corner,

where the newly installed maze of plumbing comes down

to one little pipe whose open end she can reach,

so she takes a deep breath

and makes the whole house sound.

(Source: Poetry, October 2008).

One Final Thought: How convenient it would be to sound a vegetable shofar at the end of Yom Kippur, then eat it right away to break the fast.

Shofar in Kovno Ghetto

"Who will live and who will die?" from the High Holy Day liturgy had special urgency to Jews in the hands of the Nazis. A survivor shares his story about shofar in this video.

Kabballistic Drummer in Concert

I dream about playing in a Drum and Shofar Corps. Both the tof - Hebrew for drum - and shofar - Hebrew for a trumpet made from an animal instrument - are ancient instruments and deeply rooted in our tribal heritage.

A leading voice in the effort to bring the drum back into Jewish practice is Eli Lester, and accomplished musician, songwriter, and percussionist. His music is being showcased in a Tribute Concert on June 13, 2009 at the Writers' Guild Theater in Los Angeles.

The concert features spiritual, inspirational, choral, and secular music performed by many artists who have worked with and been inspired by Eli's musical gift.

Registration info is at www.makom.org.

Shofar Presentation in Indianapolis, June 19

The Indianapolis Hebrew Congregation will host Michael Chusid speaking on, "A Shofar History of Time" during Friday Evening Shabbat Services on June 19, 2009. Chusid explains the talk will be, "a whirlwind tour of how the shofar resonates throughout Jewish Time - from the Big Bang of Beresheit to the shofar calls heralding the messianic era."The synagogue is located at 6501 North Meridian Street, Indianapolis, IN 46260 and services start at 6:00 pm.