The opening phrases of the work are very free flowing and expressive. With only a single voice, I was able to take a lot of liberties in tempo style. I create a very ethereal tone and timbre for the first minute that is reminiscent of traditional Moorish and Byzantine hymns.

This effectively integrates the composition into the architecture and design of Plum Street itself and allows the entire structure to act as one; it transforms the composition into an audiovisual story.

The rather stark and monotonous use of the pedal note “A” also relates back to my own experiences in the Plum Street Synagogue. As a child, I was reminded countless times by my parents and Jewish mentors of the importance and meaning behind the temple. But I had trouble seeing how it related to my own life. Everytime I visited, I could understand the artistic beauty and detail in every nook and cranny; yet, I could not connect the art to my Jewish studies in religious school. Thus, there is no sense of direction nor apparent tonality for the opening phrases.

To add direct Jewish influence into the structure of the composition, I chose to incorporate a religious melody central to the temple’s services. This melody was from the Jewish prayer called the “Sh’ma” and is traditionally recited twice every day (in the morning and evening). The entire prayer is relatively short and roughly translates to English as the following:

“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.

Blessed be the name of the glory of His kingdom forever and ever.”

This prayer, like many others, has a specific role when presented in the service. In my congregation, we stand and begin the most important part of the service (the Amidah) with the Sh’ma. We were taught that this melody prepares us for the prayers to come and, for lack of better words, gets our ears ready to listen.

This focus on listening and immersing oneself in the moment is what drew me to choose the Sh’ma as my Jewish musical theme. It relates perfectly to the story of the Rockwern Organ. Wise’s decision to restore the organ and preserve its beauty for generations to come was a way of listening and recentering the moment. Sure, it would have been easier to start from scratch and totally decommission the organ. Yet, the commitment to preservation of reformed Jewish history makes the organ that much more special.

Throughout the composition, the Sh’ma is directly quoted in various timbres and tonalities. In its simplicity, the melody is only 6 bars long; but, the versatility of the phrases allows for the theme to present itself in many different circumstances.

In my meetings with Rabbi Thomashow, we brainstormed various ways of including Jewish influence into my composition. I knew that I wanted the Sh'ma to be an interweaving theme throughout the work, but I wanted to do more than just its simple melody. Rabbi Thomashow listed off tons of different ideas, but my favorite was her comment on the typography of the Sh’ma in the Torah. She explained to me that in the Torah, the first and last letters of the section are significantly larger than the rest. These Hebrew letters, ayin (ע) and dalet (ד), can be combined to form the Hebrew word for witness, aid (עֵד); this is relevant as the temple has been a witness to so much of history, both in and out of the Jewish world. We discussed how this idea could be musically incorporated and decided to translate these letters into their respective musical notes, an A and D. Much like the Sh’ma itself, I opened the composition with a flourishing melody based around the note A. And to conclude, I modulate the piece to a pensive yet conclusive extended D Major chord.

My attempts to respond directly to the unanswered archival letters is best presented in m. 50. It’s my take on a sappy love song progression, elevated to match the elegance of the temple. I bring out all the colors of the different registers and create a powerfully emotional climax to the composition.

The restatement at m. 68 calls back to the opening of the work with a mysterious and lonesome melody based around a tonic F#. A major third higher, the phrasing feels light and sparse, like a whisper echoing through the synagogue. The final rendition of the Sh’ma is accompanied by spaced clusters in soft piano dynamics, bringing the story to a temporary closure point.