Category: On Campus

Lennon Stella and Betcha visited students’ screens for Cornell’s StayHomecoming. 

Excited comments flood in on the side of my screen, replacing the usual cheers of a crowd. The Cornell Concert Commission (CCC) introduces the event of the night through Zoom. This reminds me that instead of being a part of a lively performance in Barton Hall, I am sitting on the bed in my room with my laptop screen staring back at me as my only source of interaction. As sad as this might sound, I could not have had a more perfect night, lounging in my PJs with a bowl of popcorn in hand. 

Even as the corona virus plagues many aspects of our lives, Cornell’s flow of music entertainment continues. On October 10th at 8PM, instead of walking into a concert venue, I logged in with my Cornell NetID for a free virtual concert presenting Lennon Stella with special guest Betcha, part of Cornell’s StayHomecoming initiative. With Lennon Stella being one of my favorite artists, I knew I had to tune in. 

Betcha appeared on my screen and I was shocked by the atmosphere, as I was so used to in-person concerts. Usually, there are bright lights that project onto the stage and lots of background dancers, so the band’s creation of a casual ambiance in their basement served as a stark contrast to pre-corona times. Yet, at the same time, I did not mind this difference. I felt as though I was hanging out with the artists on their couch, just having a jam session with them. It almost felt more personal, despite them being miles and miles away from Ithaca. 

I was not familiar with Betcha’s music before watching this concert. Their musical artistry—the command of their instruments and the lead vocalist’s emotion-filled, gritty voice— combined with the genuine chemistry between the four musicians made me question why I had not listened to the band earlier. I found myself swaying to their retro, alternative rock sound and I could imagine how lively the crowd would have been if it had been in person. This feeling was intensified by the fact that their sound was a bit low despite being on the highest volume, making me wish I could hear each lyric better. However, their energy still managed to reach me through the screen. Their first performance “If That’s Alright” had the artists belting the catchy lyrics “Hey, Oh… Say So.” The gentle and insistent acoustic guitar met with the hectoring and proud electric guitar to create a unique sound. This was a mesh of instruments that I had not seen before, and the two distinct sounds blended surprisingly well. While showing their musical talents through other hits such as “Lucy Lucy,” “Deja Vu,” and “July,” the band was also able to connect to the audience and show their personalities. Between songs, they introduced themselves, joked around, and spoke to the audience of Cornell. Their lead vocalist concluded the performance by singing “Falling” while projecting pink lights around the room. By playing just his acoustic guitar, he took a more mellow approach to the original, upbeat tune. This acoustic setting gave off a warm sonority that made the whole performance feel more intimate even through the often arid medium of Zoom. 

After Betcha’s last song came a Q & A, led by a fellow classmate from MUSIC 2311, Miles Greenblatt. Even through Zoom, they could interact with the audience in this way. They were able to answer individual questions, something that an in-person concert rarely does. I found myself absorbed in the band’s words as they spoke about meeting their freshman year of college, the advice they give to young musicians, and their musical inspirations and influences. I loved getting to learn about this band, but I was also anxiously awaiting Lennon Stella to come onto the screen. 

A quick intermission came before the main performance, and photographs of the CCC’s past work were shown on the screen. It was definitely strange to see maskless students at crowded, outdoor concerts. As pictures of the members carrying speakers to the stage came up, I recognized that the members still have a lot of weight to carry on their shoulders because of the new virtual setting. This made me appreciate these Cornell students, and all they have done to flip around how they run their club and bring us this event. 

A CCC member emerged on my screen, from their own bedroom as well, to introduce Lennon Stella. Suddenly, Stella was staring back at me. Her joyous spirit immediately took over as her smile spread from one side of my screen to the other. She began to strum her guitar and the comments quickly streamed in, as fans recognized her hit song “Kissing Other People.” It sounded just like her acoustic recording of the song, stripped down with just her guitar and her soft falsetto. There was also one piano player in the background of her performance who simply accompanied whatever direction Stella went, and let her do the talking. I felt as though I was having a coffee chat with her and that she was playing her music solely to me. I wondered if her performance would have been like this in-person or if it would have been much more extravagant.

After finishing up her other popular song “La Di Da,” Stella said, “even though I can’t hear you, I can feel you.” A few songs later, she also said “it’s so weird to sing to a screen with zero interaction when I know people are there. But I hope everyone is having a good time!” I was glad that she mentioned how bizarre this experience was for her—it would almost feel weird if she had not. Of course, it was a new experience for the audience to be sitting at home watching a virtual concert, but it was just as strange of an event for the performer.

Yet, Stella did an incredible job at still connecting with the audience. She made an effort to look directly at the camera, and talked to us between performances. She explained the meaning behind each song, citing her “very cheating boyfriend” that inspired her song “Bad.” She even had an iPad next to her in order to read the comments coming in. Stella also made a fun production out of her otherwise bland living room scene. Even sitting on her stool, she swayed along to the melody, making me feel like I was truly watching a concert, rather than listening to a recording.

With Stella’s last song “Goodnight,” it was time for her to say goodbye and goodnight to the audience as well. Just like that, with a click of a button, she exited the screen. Concerts that I have attended in the past do not end this abruptly— there is this lingering excitement even after the singer exits, there is merchandise to buy, and conversations with friends as you walk home, reminiscing about the event. Despite this unusual setting, I was pleased by this performance. It could have been my introverted self who liked sitting in my room instead of going out, but I also believe that Betcha and Stella made the best out of the situation. This first virtual concert of mine surpassed my expectations, and my respect towards these musicians grew immensely, even if I had not left my bed the entire evening.

Religion has long inspired music composition, just as music has shaped faith practices since the beginning of organized religion. The most prominent religious works of music are Christian, as almost every major classical composer has been Christian and written music about his relationship with God. In this age of diversified religious backgrounds and increased accessibility to a wide variety of musical genres, there is no excuse for the predominance of Christian music in classical domains.

At Cornell University, Chabad – a facet of the larger Hasidic Jewish organization – strives to provide its members the opportunity to experience spiritually and culturally Jewish traditions. Their virtual Klezmer concert on Thursday, October 8, was a wonderful example of how musical experiences are being preserved during the age of COVID-19. The concert, which was held over zoom, beautifully shared the stunning and spiritual music of Eastern European Jews with members of the Chabad community. Jennifer Levine’s clarinet-playing was energetic and exciting – her notes bouncing off one another as she moved her instrument along with its swells – while David Zakalik’s accordion kept the music steady and added a sweet heartiness to the melodies. Eventually, Rabbi Eli Silberstein joined the duo, his mahogany voice floating above the instruments.

As the director of Cornell Chabad, Rabbi Eli introduced the instrumentalists and briefly explained the significance of music during the holiday of Sukkot – the reason for the performance. While Rosh Hashanah welcomes the Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur serves as an introspective time of repentance and forgiveness, Sukkot is a celebration of the hope of a new year. Before Levine and Zakalik lept back into their jubilant playing, Rabbi Eli invited his audience to take this time to be cheerful, saying, “Tonight let’s rejoice…now we embrace a whole new future!” And with that, the clarinet and accordion dove in again, echoing each others’ melodies and beckoning others at the Chabad house to clap and dance.

A week after the concert, I had the opportunity to interview Rabbi Eli about Klezmer and the broader contours of Hasidic music. He started by explaining that he knows more about Hasidic music, since he grew up with it, and less about the more secular Klezmer that evolved out of the traditional music. “Hasidic music is tied to a deep philosophy about life,” he explained, “most of the music was composed by spiritual people, whose music was just an extension of their faith.” For Hasidic Jews, their entire life revolves around Judaism and they spend much time reflecting on their relationship with God. Rabbi Eli shared a memory of his from childhood, when he witnessed a man who had been deeply reflecting and praying for hours, suddenly burst into song, with tears streaming down his face as once-hidden emotions escaped from the confines of his soul.

Rabbi Eli and I spent most of our time talking about the role that music plays in Judaism, and how this differs from music produced for the secular public. To him, “music is a vessel to arouse deep spiritual emotions. It enables you to transcend the stresses and constrains of life.” He explained that this is why very few Hasidic melodies have words. “Words are limited,” he said, “They cannot express an emotion that is deep-seated in the heart and has an intense energy to it.” The tune, the melody, is the only language that can express an emotion in the soul.” The aching notes of Zakalik’s accordion complemented by the fast-moving lines of Levine’s clarinet, reminded me of the fast-paced life that distracts us from reflecting on feelings that are hidden within us. Levine and Zakalik’s emotions could be felt through their instruments, their bodies moving along with the notes that they produced, beckoning me and others in the audience to feel the meaning behind the music being performed.

Jewish music has significantly developed since its origins, but still serves to unite the Jewish community, both in its cultural and spiritual significance. Rabbi Eli explained that initially, music was simply part of Jewish services, with choirs singing so that “the music could be heard all over Jerusalem. The music was meant to inspire within those attending a soulful turmoil and repentance.” Hasidic music aims to arouse spirituality in its listeners, playing the same role that music did in the first synagogues. Klezmer, on the other hand, “is a more cultural experience,” being played mostly during holidays and bar and bat mitzvahs…hence the charming Klezmer performance that Chabad held for Sukkot. The Klezmer style “evolved into the hands of Jews who were not as interested in the religious aspects of life, but wanted to be Jewish, culturally.” Even if Klezmer may be more secular than its Hasidic ancestor, the music is still unequivocally tied to spiritual Judaism and inspires those who listen to think more about their relationship to religion.

As a rarely spiritual person, I didn’t expect to feel particularly introspective when attending the Klezmer concert. To my surprise, the engagement of the audience – though mostly virtual aside from the few people in the Chabad house clapping along – paired with the dynamic songs brought me deep into the performance, enveloping me and igniting my curiosity about faith. I never felt fully comfortable sitting in a service and listening to people read religious texts; the liturgy always seemed so oddly formal. But being beckoned into the warm hospitable atmosphere of the Klezmer concert, with Rabbi Eli singing soulful syllables over the brisk and jovial tunes of the accordion and clarinet, I found solace. While I would love to say that the Klezmer concert was a spiritual awakening for me, that would be an immense exaggeration. The music did, however, evoke a curiosity in me about the role of religion in my life and what it would mean to be more spiritual. If I spent more time reflecting on my relationship to God, would I sing with the vigor that Rabbi Eli does? Is there a meaningful connection between singer and song that can only found in sacred music?