Most famous Chazanim have tenor voices. One who was endowed with a glorious high baritone, was the great Zavel Kwartin.

Kwartin was born on 25th March 1874 in Chonorod, Elisabetgrad, Russia, to a wealthy Chassidic textile merchant. From a very early age he exhibited a beautiful voice and his father took him to the famous Chazan, Yerucham Hakatan (also known as Yerucham Blindman), to hear his son sing and get a professional opinion of his abilities.

According to Zavel's own account, the ageing Chazan was deeply impressed by him and wanted to take the boy as his pupil. His father however was not too keen on the idea though, believing that a career in textiles might be rather more secure than one in Chazanut.

On his marriage he went to Shul with his in-laws in Yelisvatgrad and was invited to say the Haftara. The congregation was very impressed with his rendering of the Berachot and he was prevailed upon to conduct Musaf. It was on this occasion that the seeds of his golden career were sown.

Kwartin took music and singing lessons with the finest teachers of his time and on June 1st 1896 he gave his first public concert. He states that he was a great success. The following year he gave a concert in Lodz for which he was paid more than 400 roubles and he continued to travel in Europe, concertise and conduct services to great acclaim.

In 1903 he was appointed Obercantor of the Queen Elizabet Temple of Vienna where his salary was 2,500 krone per annum, an extraordinary salary by any standards.

In 1914 Kwartin was invited to come to America for a fee of $30,000 for a series of 30 concerts. Because of the war this was postponed and it wasn't until April 1920 that he eventually got there.

His first concert, which was not a success, was at the Metropolitan Opera House. Fortunately though he redeemed himself at the 'Hippodrome' and went on from there to tour America, to great acclaim.

He decided to remain in the States and was appointed Chazan at the Temple Emanuel where his salary was $12,000. He also continued to give concerts and was possibly the highest-paid Chazan of all time.

Kwartin published two volumes of his three-volume work, 'Z'mirot Zevulon' in 1928, (the third was published in 1937). They contain the music to most of his famous pieces, 'Tiheir Rabbi Yishmoel, Ve'al Yedei Avodecho, etc', and are still widely used.

Zavel was deeply moved by his first visit to the Holy Land and eventually built a home for himself on Mount Carmel. The last fifteen years of his life were spent in the USA, and when he died on 3rd October 1952, he was brought to Israel for burial.

Zavel Kwartin made numerous recordings, many of which have been eloctronically enhanced and re-released. Through them, his phenomenal voice still lives on.

The following extended article on the life of Kwartin was written by Mr Elie Delibe and published in the Cantors' Review, April 1978.

In order to bring this great artist's life to a wider audience, it has been necessary to draw on his own beautifully styled autobiography of 1951 written in a fine, flowing Yiddish. There appears to be virtually no other source material.

Unlike many other 'World Chazanim', Zavel (the diminuative lends itself better to the written word than the surname, and this will henceforth be used)did not hail from Cantorial stock. He was the son of a wealthy, deeply religious Ukrainian Chassid, himself steeped in Nussach (the pinnacle of Zavel's own achievement) and synagogue music. This 'paterfamilias' was a textile merchant, and, being accustomed to financial security, was naturally reluctant to submit one of his beloved sons to the insecurity of Chazanut, One only had to witness the various travelling Chazanim with their miserable choirs,who eked out a precarious existence by giving concerts and 'davening a Shabbat' in the villages and townships, depending for their pittance on the generosity of the baal- habtim, to justify his fears.

We return to Zavel's origins: he was named 'Zevulun', being born on the third day of Nissan, when the Nasi's name is mentioned in the Sidra (Numbers VII,24), and corresponding to the 25th of March, 1874, according to the common calendar, in the village of Chonorod, in the area of Yelisvatgrad, or Elizabetgrad, a fortified city of South Russia, in the Province of Kherson, 283 miles from Odessa. The shtetl. Zavel informs us was 25 versts (about six miles) from Talne - itself the stronghold of the 'Talner Chassidim': Glantz's famous Dror Yikrah, is based on a Tamer Niggun.

At the time of his births there was a non-Jewish population of 10,000, and a tiny Jewish community of 80 families, primarily traders and artisans. Relations between Jew and non-Jew were good,except for a few (there are always a few) antisemites: the teacher, the chief of police, and th handful who could read and write in Tzarist Russia!
 
Zavel's first contact with music occurred, when , as quite a young lad, he spent a few days with his grandfather, Tevyeh, and heard him recite Chatzot (the Chassidic midnight prayers in memory of the destruction of the Temple, and for the restoration of Israel) while accompanying himself on a guitar. Zavel describes his emotions: 'These were divine echoes to my childish ears, and the dolefulness of my grandfather's melody embraced me'. The old man's prayer turned eventually from sorrow to happy melodies, as he recited the Psalms. Zavel thus formulated the early motifs which were to lead him very gradually, and haltingly to a life of Chazanut.

Of course, no Jew in Tzarist Russia could be safe from the occasional notorious Pogroms, and, in 1881, the family was warned by a friendly minor official that a Pogrom was on it's way. Through the intervention of the local priest, who met the vandals with a full religious procession, and preached the evils of robbery and violence, Chonorod was saved. The local Jewish notables felt this event merited a special thanksgiving service, and a swiftly organised choir, comprising two tenors, a bass, and four boys, two sopranos and two altos were recruited. Zavel was an alto, and in his by-no-means self-abasing autobiography - indeed, why should it be? - tells us that the effect of his own singing so moved the archbishop who also attended the service, that he pressed three Roubles into his hand, which Zavel did not wish to accept, only to be told by his father that refusal might offend. Thus, through this almost tragic event, Zavel had his own minor musical debut.

Impressed by the opinions of friendly fellow Jews, Zavel's father decided to take professional advice, and took the lad to Berditchev (home of many fine Chazanim) in order that the great Yerucham Hakatan (Yerucham Blindman 1798-1891) might grant him an audition.

As Zavel recalls: 'Yerucham was of small stature: when I had sung V'haagen Baadeinu and 'Zur Yisrael', his whole body seemed to expand and he gazed at me with a pair of astonished eyes'. The great Chazan informed the father that the boy was indeed blessed with an alto voice of outstanding sweetness. He had, he said, heard many talented children in the course of his long life, but had never encountered such perfect understanding of the Nussach or prayer in such a young child. In his view, the lad possessed qualities which many professional Chazanim lacked: he was rich in 'shteiger', his powers of improvisation were outstanding, and his coloratura equally so. He asked the father (who had taken his son's virtuosity for granted) who had taught him, and which Chazanim had he heard? The father had to admit that the only 'conservatoire' Zavel had attended was at his father's Shabbat table, when the Z'mirot were sung, and he had only heard such 'professors' as the amateur 'baalei t'fillott' of his native village.

Yerucham was anxious to take the young Zavel as a student, gratis: his reward would be that in the future it would be known that Zavel had been his pupil!  Alas, the father's continued opposition to the insecurity of Chazanut put paid to that dream.

Zavel became a cheder Yingel, proceeding from one Rebbe to the next, until his Bar Mitzvah in 1887. By this time, his voice was changing from alto to tenor, and, after his recitation of the Bar Mitzvah B'rachot, he was begged to daven Musaph for the wondering congregation. This, therefore, was his debut at the Amud. Nevertheless, a trade was uppermost in his father's mind, and he was apprenticed first to a bookbinder, then to a locksmith. In common with so many other apprentices, he had to tackle other jobs too, sweeping out the house, shopping, even child - minding. (The term 'baby-sitting' was yet to come!)

eventually, the family decided to set him up in partnership with a cousin, in a textile business, with a capital of a few hundred Roubles. They went to the neighbouring city of Uman (120 miles south of Kiev) and commenced trading. They were successful, travelling from Yarid to Yarid (annual fairs), until the cousin married and left for London.

Next, the ogre of all Polish and Russian Jews - the 'Prisiv' - that is, military service, loomed. After undergoing various stratagems, including suggestions of self-mutilation (not an uncommon occurrence when service in the Russian army meant years of privation at the hands of antisemitic officers) which he rightly refused to entertain, Zavel was given a mysterious powder, which raised 'wounds' on his body, and he was eventually freed from the dreaded 'Prisiv'.

That settled, he now had to face another hazard, that of the 'Shidduch'. His father's wealth was undoubtedly a lure, and he had to endure a series of parades of eligibles. Bowing to mounting pressure, some time in the 1890's, he married a wealthy and educated young lady, with whom, let it be said, he was quite happy, and raised a family of four children, until her death after an illness.

HIS MUSICAL DEBUT

On his marriage, he accompanied his parents-in-law to the large Bet Hamidrash of Yelisvatgrad, where, according to tradition, he was invited to recite the Maftir. The local Chazan davened from 'Shochen Ad', and Zavel informs us that he had a powerful voice which was a pleasure to hear. The choir sang the correct responses, and their singing created a feeling of true wellbeing. In his mind, philosophised Zavel, he thought over 'How would I have sung that piece?'

Zavel confesses that, at that time, he had no idea of the range and quality of his voice, nor the richness that was concealed therein. When his turn came to recite the Maftir, he experimented with extemporisations on the 'Rachem al Zion' prayer, and was conscious of some murmuring behind. He was, he explains, quite taken aback when the Gabbai approached him, in the name of the worshippers, to daven Musaph. Overcoming his reluctance, he sang 'Y'kum Purkan' in full voice, and the Chazan and choir accompanied him faithfully. Zavel marvelled at the musicality of the Chazan, a complete stranger, who was able to follow all his colarotures in complete accord. Zavel sets the scene for us: 'The Bet Hamidrash was deadly quiet, and I felt that certain assurance an artist experiences when he feels appreciated'. In particular, he was glad that his father-in-law had not been put to shame Zavel ends this particular chapter of his early life by saying that at the time of writing (l95l) he still recalled the remarkable influence which that unexpected Service had on his future as a 'World Chazan': he sensed that a golden career awaited him.

The following Shabbat, he returned to the same Bet Hamidrash to listen to the Chazan Sheni, one Shnirman,then in his sixties, who addressed him as 'colleague'. Subsequently, a son of Shnirman, who had studied and graduated as a pianist at the St.Petersburg Conservatoire, was to give him music lessons. He taught him various arias from the Russian operatic repertoire, and for further development of voice-production, introduced him to a former opera-singer, Madam Anna Pavlovna Bromberg, who was known to the salon-society of St.Petersburg as a famous singer, and who introduced Zavel into aristocratic circles.

Madam Bromberg taught Zavel a whole range of arias, in Russian, German and French, He had not, by then, mastered sight- reading, and had to learn his parts by heart. Nevertheless, his fame carried far, and he was invited to sing before the local intelligentia, the proceeds going to the Red Cross.

THE FIRST CONCERT
 
His debut was on the 1st of June, 1896. The hall was packed with the local 'high-ups'  - military (including a full Russian General), judiciary, and the whole Russian nobility of that city, including the Governor. The Jewish Community also attended, including his whole family. Naturally one does not require Zavel's comments on the outcome of this concert: that he was showered with applause and enthusiastic comment is self evident. Even to us, who have only heard him on recordings, his virtuosity is obvious. How much more fortunate are those few colleagues who heard him in person, at his concerts in so many countries.

KWARTIN, THE ARTIST

In 1896, a week after his debut, he went to Charkov to visit the great Russian opera singer Medvedieff (who was the son of a Rabbi, but who had lamentably changed his religion). There he met a Russian countess, who heard him sing to Medvedieff, and both were enchanted. The opera singer stressed that Zavel should train for the opera stage, promising him a scholarship at the St.Petersburg Royal Conservatoire.

There was, however, a Jewish baritone of fame, Vinogradoff, who, according to rumour, even laid talit and t'fillin each day, ('Although,' says Zavel, 'I could not attest how accurate this was')... This artist was more objective, and advised Zavel that although his voice was adaptable to opera, his true vocation lay in Chazanut.

There was, however, the eternal family opposition to a cantorial career: the ever-present threat of insecurity, communal strife, etc. But Zavel had had enough. Bearing in mind what Vinogradoff had told him, he visited the famous Chazan of Odessa, Pinchas Minkovsky (l859-l924),known affectionately as 'Pini', of the famous Broder Shul,who, oddly enough, discouraged him from Chazanut, emphasising that the stage had more to offer him. Zavel admits that possibly Minkovsky had his own reasons for such advice, but he did not heed this pessimism, and went instead to the great choir-master, David Novakovsky (1848-1921) who laughed at Minkovsky's remarks, and accepted him as a student.

Initially, Zavel felt that Novakovsky was too advanced for him, and was sent to a senior scholar of the Conservatoire, named 'Baumel' for lessons in theory. This tutor, in addition, also permitted him to study at the Broder Shul, where he trained the choir, and this strongly developed Zavel's ear.

Following this, Zavel came to Vienna, where he soon struck up several important musical friendships, which led, in turn, to an introduction to the famous non-Jewish vocal-professor, Shteinschneider, who advised patient, enthusiastic serious study. Zavel commenced his studies with this Viennese professor in 1897, and spent day and night pursuing his studies in all branches of voice-production and music generally. He also visited the Opera, and frequented concerts, and, thus gradually developed his capabilities.

KWARTIN, AND HIS SO-CALLED 'UNORTHODOXY'

From all sources studied, it would appear that Zavel was a fully religious observant Jew. There are, however, those who doubt his adherence to Orthodox Judaism, not, perhaps, without some cause, since Zavel, in later years, was to officiate in the famous conservative 'Tabak' - Tempel of Budapest. Here, not only was there a mixed choir, but also organ accompaniment, not just on Shabbat, but also on the Yomim Noraim, and even on Yom Kippur! One must hasten to add, however, that this did not detract from his popularity as a Chazan, for many Orthodox Jews would daven at the Hashkamah Minyanim, rush home to make Kiddush, and then come and delight in the virtuosity of the great Kwartin.

There were other so-called anomalies.  Zavel was to gravitate to the 'Cantoralishe' trends set by Solomon Sulzer (1804-1890), Birnbaum, Novakovsky, Dunayevsky, and other modern Chazarnim. By the standards of the time, these trends led away from the accepted Nussach of the 'Ost-Judishe' school, but to an advanced scholar such as Zavel, with his classical training, both in opera and Chazanut, they were perfectly acceptable. This trend is most marked in Zavel's earliest recordings, where there is a classical overtone to his Chazanut, but when he begins to employ his wonderful baritone, with its wide range, often deepening to a majestic bass, colouring his voice with beautiful dark melodic splendour, and using his superb coloratures, any doubts as to his 'Yiddishkeit' are soon forgotten. There were also Chassidic overtones in some of Zavel's works: the Kol M'kadesh theme, hails from the pupils of the Baal Shem circa, 1750.

One assumes that his experiences in the Europe of pogroms and persecutions led to his frequently heart-felt 'oy vei's,' appreciated by many of his listeners. Also, in the early recordings, he employed the Tetragrammaton, and not the euphemistic 'HaShem' and 'Adoishem', used by the later Chazanim. This, also, can sound odd to frum ears.

He presented another 'flaw' to his critics. From the time of his introduction to Vienna, he wore canonicals, and a talit with a gilt 'attarah'. Taken in conjunction with his so-called 'German attire' - a short jacket and probably a top-hat, as opposed to the traditional garb of the Galician Jews with their long kaftans and peaked caps, this would add fuel to the doubts already cast by his enemies. He was becoming successful, and there were adversaries who sought to bring him down One supposes that this must be true of all virtuosi on the threshold of their fame. To to all this furore, he was accused of smoking in public on the Shabbat, and, as his beard refused to sprout, of being a 'galuach', that is, he shaved his beard with the forbidden razor. At a time when there were no electric shavers, any person not wearing a beard, would have to resort to a foul- smelling paste - a depilatory, and even this was frowned upon. Nevertheless, Zavel managed a moustache, which he kept throughout his life. Oddly enough, contemporary photographs show a marked resemblance to the physiognomy of that other great artist, Fritz Kreisler.

While still on the subject of Zavel's formative years, it is interesting that friends advised him to apply for membership of the Viennese Opera, and he even auditioned for 'Lohengrin', but felt that he would have to bind himself to a stern master, and his Jewish soul rebelled. Fortunately for us, he turned to his old love, Chazanut.

Friends from his home background in Russia came to Vienna, and he decided that, in spite of his love for study, 'tachlit',that is, purposefulness, came first. He was, after all, a married man with a newly born child, and they all needed support. He decided to give a concert in the Polish city of Lodz in 1897. He felt the contrast between the aristocratically 'cool' Viennese Jews, and the warmly traditional Polish Jews: Zavel comments: 'Their eyes lit up with enthusiasm when I sang pieces of the traditional Nussach; this feeling conveyed itself also to me, and I did not spare my voice'.

There is an amusing anecdote of this Lodz concert. A local child prodigy, was to accompany Zavel. They met at the lad's uncle's house, where the boy played piano pieces by Mozart, Chopin and Bach. Zavel congratulated him, and wished him that 'he should be the second Rubinstein' (meaning the famous Anton Rubinstein). Zavel recalls with pleasure the lad's swift riposte: 'Why the second? I desire to be the first Rubinstein'. This was, of course, the great Artur Rubinstein.
 
The Lodz concert brought over four hundred Roubles (about forty pounds at the current rate of exchange) which was by no means underpayment, especially for his first concert. His return to his native Chonorod was a triumph: there is a moving count of his reluctance to daven in his home town, but he had to cede to public pressure and daven on Shabbat morning, both Shacharit and Musaph. The shul was packed, and the Service was to last well into the afternoon. Police had to clear a way for his exit, such was the pressure, and an enthusiastic welcome awaited him.

Zavel, however, was not to know peace of mind in his chosen career: he was, again, through family pressure, compelled into trade, much against his will, with the ever-present 'bills of exchange' (a usual form of trading in Eastern Europe). The stress upon his nervous system interfered with his voice, and he took a brief vacation at Karlesbad, the famous Austrian spa. There he met several European Chazanim. By this time, he was the father of four children, and since trade was poor, gratefully made his farewells to a life of commerce.

He returned to Vienna, but stopped off at the Galician capital city of Lemberg, where he was advised to audition in an Orthodox synagogue which had been vacant for several years. Nothing, however, went smoothly for our hero in his early years, for he was accused of the above mentioned crime of smoking and travelling on Shabbat. After an exhausting 'Din Torah', he was cleared, but had lost all interest in his small-minded denigrators. He wandered around Galicia, and eventually came to the city of Jaroslav. There, in the Bet Hamidrash, he found warm-hearted worshippers whose enjoyment of his prayers overwhelmed him, and the Gabbaim insisted that he remain there at least until after Pesach. By this time, Zavel had an inkling of his value, and stipulated the hitherto unheard of fee of two hundred Krone (a gold coin) , valued in English currency at about £214, then an enormous sum, especially to impoverished Galician Jewry. He was already on the station platform waiting for his train, when he was summoned back, and his fee was assured.

Zavel confesses that that Pesach in Jaroslav would remain forever in his memory. When he recited the famous 'Brach Dodi' prayer, excitement was at its height. (Listening to it, now, on record, we can appreciate why). But he had enough of the 'shtet'l life', and hankered after the civilised culture of Vienna. He arrived in the spring of l903 and re-visited his old mentor and teacher, Shteinschneider,who assured him that there was no longer any doubt as to his vocation. After several lesser positions, Zavel became 'Ober--Cantor' of the Queen Elizabet Tempel of Vienna, at a fee of 2,500 Krone (about £4,000) per annum, on a five-year contract. This huge sum might appear incredible, but it has to be stressed that the Viennese Jews of a leading Tempel were frequently very wealthy, and, in addition, there were no other distractions: the gramophone record was only just appearing.

In fact, Zavel was one of the first Chazanim to recognise its potential, and the medium was to spread fame over the breadth of Russia. He recorded a series of 25 items for the Deutsche Grammophon Gesellschaft in 1905 for 300 Krone, and his accompanist was the organist, Professor Braslavsky. He was to make, in all, 148 records for this company.

He gave concerts from 1906 over his home territory, and in 1907 in Vilna and Byalistok. In 1908, he gave a concert in St.Petersburg, where Ressel was the Chazan and Gurevitch the choir-master, and in 1909 he assumed the position of Ober-Cantor there, hut could not tolerate the blatant antisemitism.

In December, 1910, he accepted the position at the famed Tabak Tempel of Budapest, which had a capacity of three and a half thousand worshippers, and, sadly, had the usual battles with the Rabbis, and other shul politics, But he was, after all, Kwartin, and by now could take all this in his stride. Gradually, the Rabbis came to terms with him, and treated him as a colleague.

In 1914, he received a letter from an American cousin, inviting him to the United States to give a concert. Zavel, by this time, was an old hand at finance, and set his fee for a series of 30 concerts at $30,000 (then about £8,200). These concerts were to extend over three months. He was to have two first class tickets, for himself and his daughter Ada, who was to accompany him. He required a bank guarantee and an advance payment of $2,000; there would be no more than two concerts a week, not including the Shabbat. Finally, he stipulated that he would have to obtain permission from his community. After a certain initial opposition, this permission was granted, and Zavel awaited his American debut with considerable pleasurable anticipation.

The First World War, however, intervened, and, as a Russian subject, he was to experience trouble from the Hungarian authorities as to his loyalties. In 1917, he received an invitation from the German General Staff to give concerts to Jews living in occupied territories. This, he later discovered, stemmed from his friend Leo Liow, the famous choir master, who had similarly accompanied Sirota and Hershman.

The American Tour was revived in 1919, but ill fortune continued to pursue him, and he became seriously ill, spending weeks in hospital. Eventually he sailed for the United States on the Adriatic as a third-class passanger (no other berths being available), arriving in New York on the 11th of April, 1920.

KWARTIN'S AMERICAN TOUR

To his profound consternation, he was astounded to learn that, contrary to his request, he was not to begin his season in a synagogue, but on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House, where Caruso trod. This terrified him, and he tried desperately to persuade the impresarios to change the venue, but advertisements had already been printed, all the tickets sold, and articles written in the New York newspapers, and there was nothing he could do. His premonition proved correct: the concert was not a success. He redeemed himself in the second concert at The Hippodrome, and his nerves now being settled, all his remaining concerts in the United States and Canada were wildly successful.

Zavel marvelled at the fact that 'In Chicago, people were prepared to pay $15 per ticket to hear him daven Shacharit and Musaph, which was a great deal of money at that time'.

His leave of absence was extended for a further three months, during which he heard disquieting rumours of political unrest in Hungary, primarily caused by unemployment and economical crises, and much against his wishes, Zavel decided to settle in America.

After much deliberation, he decided to accept a 'call' from the Temple Emamuel of Borough Park, at an annual stipend of $12,000, and commenced his duties in 1921, with the assistance of a wonderful choir, under the direction of Zavel Zilberts, who, although a musician of distinction, was a nervous, impatient and envious man. (It is noteworthy that in a book of nearly six hundred pages, Zavel castigates only two people: Zilberts, and Menachem Kipnis, the distinguished music critic of the Warsaw Yiddish daily Der Haint presumably, for an, in his opinion, unjustified adverse criticism). He was more fortunate in his second musical director, Herman Zalis, who was later to assist him in the preparation for publication of his monumental three volumes of improvisations under the title of 'Z'mirot Zevulun', twice issued, in 1928 and 1938.

Zavel's family, too, was musical. Both daughters were singers, and one sang in the Vienna Opera. Urged by his family to remarry, he was introduced to a charming young Viennese widow, with a pretty little daughter, whom he married in the 'Queen Elizabet Tempel' in 1922. He returned to Brooklyn, and rented a large apartment,where he was to spend seven further happy years. In 1925, when his contract with the Temple Emanuel was due for renewal, Zavel asked for a vacation of three months, in order that he might visit the Holy Land, but the board would not agree to his request, and he resigned. Nevertheless, they feted him with a farewell reception. He was 51 years of age, and virtually retired from the Amud, although he was to continue to donate his services for many charitable causes, and make many more recordings.

KWARTIN'S FIRST VISIT TO THE HOLY LAND

Zavel says that he was greatly moved by the reception from old friends, and the most prominent Chazanim of Jerusalem, Zalman Rivlin and Israel Bardaki welcomed him as a colleague. He worshipped on his first Shabbat at the Churvah Shul, which was indeed, a ruin, and when he was called to Maftir, history repeated itself. As he extemporised on the Rachem Al Zion prayer, he brought the whole congregation, against his will, to tears.

He and his wife toured the Holy Land, and were with the idealism of the early 'Kibbutzniks'. He felt that there might be a possibility of settling there, and purchased a site overlooking Lake Kinneret, on the tip of Mount Carmel.

HIS RETURN VIA EUROPE

Zavel remembered his old friends of the Tabak Tempel in Budapest, and on the Shabbat when he davened there, the synagogue was crammed with six thousand worshippers. While in Austria, he visited the spa Bad Gastein, and was invited to visit the world famous Sadagorer Rebbe, of the wealthy Friedmann Dynasty, Zavel, who had never had much in common with the Chassidic world, confessed that he was astonished at the intelligence and tolerance of the Rebbe. Noting a piano, he sat down and sang the beautiful Maran DiVishmayah, to be rewarded with two golden coins. Zavel laughed at this reversal of roles: it was the usual practice to give the Rebbe a 'pidyan' (a present from Chassidim to their Rebbe), and here he was, receiving one from him! He kept the coins as a souvenir of a meeting with a great man, and they were to renew their friendship when they met again in the Holy Land.

Returning to New York to wind up his affairs, Zavel davened the Yomim Noraim in the Bronx, to subsidise the Old Age Home for Jews in Harlem. In 1927, his wife bore him his 'ben z'kunim', whom he named after his late father, Shalom. It was at this time that he busied himself publishing his compositions. The first volume (there were to be three) was sold at $8 per copy, and in the first year all seven hundred copies were sold.  They even reached such far off places as Australia and South Africa. And, thus encouraged, he began work on the second volume. He toured, meanwhile, under the auspices of the Deutche Grammophon Gesellschaft, giving a series of fifteen recitals in the larger cities of Germany, Poland, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, and other countries.

HIS FINAL RETURN TO THE HOLY LAND

This was in the late 1920's. Naturally, the disasterous financial debacle of Wall Street, and the collapse of the share-market, and the terrible news of the Hebron Massacres did nothing to uplift the sensitive artist. This, coupled with the tragic death of his son, a doctor, who poisoned his hand during an autopsy, finally hastened his return to the Holy Land. He departed from New York in January, 1931, with his wife and two children, to settle provisionally in Tel Aviv.  He organised a co-operative of fifteen settlers, and after the usual difficulties with builders, architects, etc, made is first home on Mount Carmel.

After several attempts had been made to involve this wealthy settler in real-estate undertakings, Zavel chose an exclusive site for his home, also on Mount Carmel, with distinguished neighbours around. This was in April, 1935. In April, 1936, there were to be the murderous attacks by the Arabs on Jaffa and Tel Aviv. Zavel played his part by collecting funds to assist injured and impoverished Jews. These attacks gradually affected the whole country, and spread over the colonies and orchards, affecting both the kibbutzim and communications. Zavel's own grapefruit orchard in Gederah was threatened, unless, insisted his managers, more guards were posted. Zavel refused, stating that one Jewish life was more precious than all his two hundred dunams. His managers survived by hiding in neighbouring villages.

In 1936, his mother-in-law, still in Europe, became seriously ill, and wishing to visit her with his wife, he was prevented by an American law, that since his passport was out of date, he would have to reside in the United States for a full year in order to renew it. Thus, in July, 1937, he, his wife, and their youngest son, boarded a freighter which put in at many ports, taking 24 days to reach Europe.

Zavel was depressed by the fear he noted. Nazism and Fascism were rampant, and he was glad to be returning to America. He was similarly depressed by the attitude of the American Chazanim, and the newly introduced 'star' system. He speaks favourably, however, of Chazan Kapov-Kagan. He also took the opportunity of issuing the third volume of Z'mirot Zevulun', his monumental legacy to Chazanut.

Zavel had the pleasure, in 1937, of seeing his daughter, Shulamit, marry a young engineer of good family. The event was attended by many prominent personalities. He speaks with mournful affection of the devotion to duty of his friend and colleague, Chazan Yossele Rosenblatt, with whom he had shared a concert stage only three days before the latter's tragic untimely death. He noted, at this concert, that Yossele strained and breathed heavily as he sang, and he advised him not to overstrain his voice. Yossele's artistic devotion, however, forced him to sing again and again during a benefit concert for a fellow Chazan, until he came off the stage bathed in sweat. The following day, Yossele went off to the Dead Sea to make a film, and had the fatal heart attack. Zavel comments that it was Yossele's integrity as a Chazan that created these conditions. He recalls with pride that he was present when the State of Israel was created, but makes no mention of his politics, With these words, his autobiography ends. The last fifteen years of his life were spent in the United States. He died on Zom Gedalliah,57l3, 3rd October l952, and was laid to rest in his beloved Israel.

SUMMING UP
 
After studying a work of culture comprising 580 pages, some personal impressions must have imprinted themselves on me, who condensed thousands of words into this resume of the life of one of our greatest Chazanim.

Of course, in his own opus, any troubles he may have had with colleagues have been ignored. Likewise, there is hardly an instance of his being spiteful about his fellows. Although he speaks continually about the large sums he received, it is not done, one feels, merely to boast, but rather an expression of surprise that his God-given voice should engender such adulation from his many admirers. Regrettably, he does not tell us much about his domestic life, but it would seem that he was happy in both his marriages.

He lived to a good age, 78. He had many relatives in the United States, some of whom are still active as Chazanim. What happened to his library is not known.

He made many recordings after his retirement: for 'Victor', 'His Master's Voice', 'Brunswick' (no longer in existence, as also 'Zonophone') and many other ancillary companies. In 1928, he contracted with 'Brunswick' for a record series, over a period of three years, from which he was to earn $30,000. His famous 'Tiher Rabi Yishmael','Leil Shimurim', 'Brach Dodi', and the beautiful 'Haneshamah Loch' were made in 1928-29 for 'Victor', and then transferred to 'His Master's Voice'. He was accompanied on a church organ by the great Abraham Ellstein.

Those Chazanim who denigrate 'Record Chazanim' are in error: it is important that young Chazanim sing recitatives and compositions by our great liturgical composers, and many do so with feeling and beauty. Were it not for the 'Record Chazanim', what would those who were born after the demise of such luminaries as Rosenblatt, Roitman, Hershman, Sirota, Kapov-Kagan, Pinchik, as well as Kwartin, know of their unique Nussach and technique?

It is the right of Chazanim, like other scholars, to study the work of their predecessors, and then adapt them to their own particular voices and capabilities. Kwartin certainly developed a style of his own, going from major to minor, using his magnificent voice, employing fine choirs and accompanists, and, any Chazan possessing similar qualities could do no better than to emulate a 'Giant of our Time'.