REMEMBERING YIGAL CALEK Z”L

(For the SoundCloud audio, scroll down)

In his 1959 novel The Tents of Wickedness, the satirist Peter De Vries remarked, “Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.” This playful yet insightful comment captures the paradox at the heart of nostalgia: we inevitably view the past through a golden lens—even when reflecting on nostalgia itself.

At the same time, nostalgia fosters a sense of personal ownership, as if our memories and experiences are uniquely vivid, meaningful, and more authentic than anyone else’s.

Yet, despite its subjective flaws, research shows that nostalgia offers immense emotional and social benefits. It boosts positive emotions, strengthens self-esteem, and deepens social bonds. By focusing on the good and downplaying the bad, nostalgia creates redemptive narratives that inspire personal growth and optimism.

Nostalgia isn’t just about looking back—it also propels us forward. Reflecting on meaningful moments motivates us to emulate the positive qualities we remember.

As the renowned British psychologist Constantine Sedikides puts it, “Nostalgia is much more than just reminiscing. It is about creating continuity between our past and present selves, helping us stay connected to meaningful moments in life.”

This past week, nostalgia overwhelmed me after the passing of Yigal Calek, a hero of my youth and a towering figure in Jewish music. His talents exploded onto the modern Jewish music scene in the early 1970s, flourished through the 1980s, and experienced a revival in the 1990s.

Even into the 2000s, he performed at one-off concerts, rekindling memories for his audience. Sadly, in recent years, his star had faded as he battled ill health, and he quietly slipped from the public stage.

In late 2021, a group of former choir members organized an impromptu Chanukah reunion, placing Yigal at the heart of the celebration. The performance, shared on YouTube, transported fans around the world back to the magical sounds of their youth.

With over 200,000 views so far, the video is enhanced by the hundreds of viewer comments expressing the deep emotions stirred by the familiar melodies, as fresh and evocative as when the choir first performed them decades ago.

Shortly after the video was posted, I reflected on my own emotions prompted by the video in an article titled “Why I Wept This Week.”

As I wrote then, Yigal was an extraordinary talent who transformed ordinary North-West London schoolkids into masterful singers: “He was a demanding, exacting perfectionist. Rehearsals lasted for hours. Every note had to be perfect, every harmony flawlessly synchronized. But it was all worth it in the end. The results were stunning, and the audience appreciation gushing.”

Now, with his passing, I want to share something about Yigal that elevates him far beyond the role of a mere musician and choirmaster—a talent and calling that justifies the overwhelming nostalgia and sadness many of us who knew him have felt in recent days.

I often quip that I’m just a teacher masquerading as a shul rabbi—because, ultimately, what brings me the most joy is teaching. Seeing the spark in someone’s eyes when they learn something new—and knowing I sparked it—is the most uplifting experience of all.

It strikes me that at his core, Yigal, who began his career as an elementary school teacher, never stopped teaching. He taught us how to sing, how to appreciate music and complex harmonies, and how to shed inhibitions to relish the sheer joy of song. But even more than that, Yigal used music to teach us about our Jewish heritage.

For instance, I first learned of the obscure mitzvah of Shiluach HaKan through the melody Yigal composed for the Torah verses that describe it (Deut. 22:6-7).

Likewise, an obscure Mishnah in Rosh Hashanah (3:8)—posing questions about Moses’ raised hands winning wars and the copper snake curing a plague—came to life through Yigal’s music, driving home the deeper message about the transformative power of prayer.

In particular, the loftiest High Holiday prayers became intimate and meaningful through the masterful melodies that Yigal spun, seemingly out of thin air. One of his compositions, Chamol Al Maasecha, has become a staple in Ashkenazic communities worldwide.

The prayer pleads: “Have compassion on Your creations and take delight in them; let those who seek refuge in You declare, ‘In Your righteousness, Your burdened ones find strength.’” Incredible words, but it is Yigal’s tune that breathes real life into them, making them resonate so very deeply.

In another melody—Mareh Kohen—this one energetic and lively, Yigal captured the joy that filled the air when the Jerusalem Temple stood as the High Priest emerged from the Holy of Holies. Each year, as we belt out the chorus, “Emes, mah nehdar haya Kohen Gadol b’tzeiso miBeis Kodshei HaKodashim” — “Truly, how glorious was the High Priest when he emerged from the Holy of Holies” — our faces automatically light up with a smile, even though we are deep into the Yom Kippur fast.

Obscure prophetic passages, rarely encountered, let alone studied, became as familiar to us as nursery rhymes through Yigal’s music. One example, in his 1970 debut album, is Shim’u Melachim (“Hear, O Kings; Give Ear, O Princes…”) from Judges 5:3-4, part of the prophetess Deborah’s victory song, celebrating God’s power as He ‘marches’ from Seir and Edom, shaking the earth and pouring rain from the heavens. As a result of the song, that scene is forever etched on my psyche.

Then, on his 1976 London Live album, Yigal introduced another song, Lama Yashavta (“Why did you sit among the sheepfolds…”) from Judges 5:16, by teasing the audience: “It’s a little after Shim’u Melachim—you look it up!” He was a true teacher at heart every step of the way.

In the final analysis, Yigal Calek’s music was more than just entertainment—it was a gift that combined extraordinary musical talent with the heart and soul of a teacher, making profound Jewish ideas accessible through unforgettable melodies. His compositions resonate not only because they sound beautiful but because they teach, they inspire, and they connect us to our heritage.

Although he is gone, Yigal’s music has become an indelible part of our collective memory, a source of nostalgia that, without any question, transcends mere longing for an idealized past.

Because while it certainly reminds us of the joy he brought into our lives, it also reminds us of the enduring lessons he left behind—a legacy that will continue to sing, and hopefully teach, through us.

Click this link to hear Rabbi Dunner singing two of Yigal Calek’s songs, remastered from original recordings: https://rabbidunner.com/rabbi-dunner-sings-yigal-calek/