Max Helfman (1901-63) was a prolific choral conductor, composer, and music educator from Poland who arrived in the United States at the age of eight, and used his natural abilities to acquire an extensive knowledge of music and secular Jewish and western philosophy despite the absence of real formal training. The extensive booklet notes for this release—one might say exhaustive—go into great detail about his life and leftist leanings, not uncommon among Jewish (and other) people during the first years of the Soviet Union, when the atrocities of Hitler became almost as common in Russia during the Stalin years, though many supporters were fearful of admitting such because of political expediency. But what is most important in Helfman’s life is undoubtedly his support of Jewish and Zionist efforts in the newly emerging state in Palestine, and of his tireless efforts at the promotion of Hebrew culture and identity in this country.
His music is religious in tone and only incidentally referenced by external happenings, though perhaps those living at the time would be more inclined to see double meanings in his work than we today. This is all to the good, for a composer will be judged, solely, as is always the case, on his music. What we have here is a good sampling, though I have to admit that as a non-Jewish listener I am probably not as inclined to the music as people of Jewish origin might be. Nevertheless, this music resonates with themes that go far beyond their specific identities, and as such does have a more universal appeal than might first be noticed.
Perhaps the largest work Helfman ever composed, Di Haye Hagode (The New Narrative), considered by many to be his greatest, fails for me to live up to that appellation. Itsik Fefer’s poem of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, “The Shadows of the Warsaw Ghetto” is the type of narrative that might be recited during the Passover Seder. Setting it to music, with the inherent difficulties involved whenever a narrator is used in a musical setting (can one think of any favorite pieces that use narration outside of Copland’s Lincoln Portrait?), it seems doomed to also-ran status. It has its moments, but this seems to me to be one of those times when music cannot do sufficient justice to the topic in the same way that the poem does. However, those with a more vested interest in the topic may indeed feel differently.
The remaining two works, Hag Habikkurim (Festival for First Fruits—A Pageant for Shavuot) and The Holy Ark (Torah Service) are far more successful. The eight songs of the former were fashioned out of the composer’s concern that all performing groups of various ages participate, and so he authorized several different arrangements. The music is quite tuneful and highly descriptive of the texts—one can see why their popularity remains. Yet surely the masterpiece on this album is the wonderful aggregation of movements known as The Holy Ark, a setting of portions of the Torah service, where Helfman expands the normal Sunday morning festival into an extended work destined for the concert hall. The choral treatment is fresh and original, and one never loses interest. I for one would rather have had more from this work than the excerpts we are given, yet one must be grateful anyway. Sound and performances are very good, and the Milken Archive recordings continue on their historical way, now nearing completion.
— Steven Ritter
