Expanding Horizons: An Interview with Nancy Abramson

Nancy Abramson is the former director of the H.L. Miller Cantorial School at the Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS). There she trained future cantors in prayer, nusaḥ and religious leadership, and oversaw the school’s curriculum development. She served as president of the Cantors Assembly (2013-2015) and was the first female president in the organization’s history. She received her cantorial education at JTS and earned a master’s degree in music education from Teachers College at Columbia University.

*This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Tell me a little bit about your childhood and upbringing.

I grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, as the oldest of three. My parents did not know very much about music, but they understood that I loved it, and I started singing with my synagogue choir when I was eight years old.

There was a vibrant music program at my synagogue, Beth El Ner Tamid. It was run by Max Janowski, who came up from Chicago. Every week Max would choose one child to sit at the piano bench next to him for a little bit, and when it was my turn I thought I had just gone to heaven.

I grew up hearing Cantor Norton Siegel, who was a classically trained bass baritone, and his ḥazzanut was really wonderful. Most women did not have the opportunity to hear the great cantors that some of our male colleagues grew up with. Thankfully, I had Cantor Siegel’s voice in my head. Part of that voice said to me, this is what you’re supposed to sound like. And the other part said to me, you can never sound like this because you’re a woman.

So, I got a good Jewish music education through our synagogue. In high school I played cello and sang in the triple trio. In my senior year, I attended the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music to study voice and music theory.

Then I went to Camp Ramah on a scholarship from my shul, and that really changed the trajectory of my life and opened doors for me. It was there that I realized how much I loved being Jewish and how much I loved performing. And it’s because of people at Ramah who had come from New York, from the Jewish Theological Seminary, that I ultimately ended up there.

What kind of music did they teach at Camp Ramah?

Cantor Abramson with Cantor Jacob Sandler, Cantor Max Silverstone and Hannah Reikes at Camp Ramah, July 2019.

There were songs based on prayer texts and, certainly, the davening incorporated a lot of communal singing. The Israeli staff would bring things from Israel. It wasn’t until I got to New York and joined the Zamir Chorale that I found this whole body of amazing Jewish choral music—aside from the Janowski that I had sung as a kid. When I came to New York, Stanley Sperber was the conductor of the Zamir Chorale, and then I sang with Zamir under Matthew Lazar for a number of years when he took over. That experience really opened my eyes to a wider, broader, more wonderful Jewish musical experience. 

What kind of music did you do with Max Janowski at Beth El Ner Tamid?

It was primarily his music. Max has such a large body of work. He would come and do a concert every spring featuring his secular music, and he would bring up soloists from Chicago. It was a big deal for us.

How wonderful that you got to study and learn from such a great artist.

I just want to say my parents spent a fair amount of money on my musical education, and we did not have a lot of money. I remember once my parents came up for one of the musicals at camp, and the drama director told my parents they should get me voice lessons. And my mother said, “Why?” And he said, because even if she only does this as an avocation, it will enhance her life greatly. Many years later, I thanked him.

Max Janowski’s Avinu Malkeinu, featuring Cantor Nancy Abramson.

Where did you attend college and how did that come about?

I went to the joint program with Columbia University and JTS, what’s now called List College. I did that because of the influence of people at Camp Ramah. The people who I thought were the coolest and the most Jewish came from JTS. So, I would go to my music classes and spend hours in the music library listening to Mahler and Beethoven. And then I would go to JTS and take all my Judaica classes and write my papers on something having to do with Jewish music—trying to make it one education instead of two.

I really fell in love with New York and all of its music. Walking down the street, there was always something to absorb: sounds, sights, smells. I just fell in love with it. I also fell in love with a man and got married at 19. I'm no longer married to that man. But, he was studying to be a rabbi. And it just fit into my whole thought process about myself that I was going to marry a rabbi, I was going to raise a Jewish family, and somehow do something with music. The thought of the cantorate was not one I had. It wasn’t something that there was any reason to think about. Women weren’t cantors at that time.

What happened after you graduated and how did you ultimately find your way to the cantorate?

In college, I made money by teaching music in Hebrew school and performing for Hadassah groups. I always knew I wanted to do something musical. Then, I went to Teachers College, got a master’s in music education and became a certified music teacher in New York State.

I got a job in a Solomon Schechter School in Westchester, New York, teaching music. And it was horrible. I would drag my little cart with all my supplies and instruments, teaching the lesson plans that I had frantically put together the night before, being a new teacher and doing it all from scratch. But when I arrived each day, the teacher would run out of the room. That was their only free period and it left me to deal with the class alone. I went home most days with a headache, and it slowly set in that if I kept doing this, I would start hating music. Then, a rabbi friend of mine told me I should be a cantor.

Cantor Abramson with JTS Chancellor Arnold Eisen on the first day of classes, September 2018.

At that point I was already teaching b'nai mitzvah students. I was teaching music in the school. I was teaching adult education. I was doing many of the things that a cantor does except for life cycle events and davening.

JTS was not admitting women to cantorial school, but Hebrew Union College (HUC) was. I went and spoke with Barbara Ostfeld and she was incredibly encouraging. I applied to HUC, but it didn’t make sense for me. I was a Conservative Jew through and through. But HUC was a Reform institution. And, they would only accept me as a full-time student. I had a small child at home and needed to earn a living. I couldn’t go to school full-time. So, I went to JTS and we sort of cobbled together a program.

The program had a lot of challenges. I would take all the courses, including nusaḥ, but women were not allowed to take the nusaḥ tutorials. That meant that while the men got to study with a master cantor to further their musicality and artistry, the women did not. But we had to take the same exams. Women were not allowed to sing in the choir because the choir represented the cantorial school and we were not in cantorial school. It was all so ludicrous. I finished three years of the program and took a leave of absence in protest. I didn’t want another bachelor’s degree. I already had a bachelor’s degree from JTS and a bachelor’s degree from Columbia and a master’s degree from Teacher’s College. So I went out and looked for a cantorial job.

I ended up getting hired at Congregation Sons of Israel, a Conservative synagogue in Westchester, where I had previously taught. It was an interesting interview. They knew me because I had taught their children, but they had trouble envisioning me on the bimah. So the questions were things like, “What are you going to wear on the bimah?”

And the rebellious part of me wanted to say, “I’m going to wear a bikini.” But I wanted to get the job, and I didn't wear bikinis. So, I said, “The rabbi wears a suit on the bimah. I will also wear a suit. My suit will have a skirt.”

Then they asked, “What are you going to wear on your head?” I said, “The rabbi wears a kippah. I will also wear a kippah.” They just really couldn't picture it in their minds. But I got the job and stayed there for five happy years. What I’ve always told my cantorial students is that they need to make sure the search committee can picture them on the bimah.

I understand you also served in a Reconstructionist congregation.

I did. I left Westchester because a new Reconstructionist synagogue was being founded near where I lived in Manhattan. My friend, Peter Geffen, the founder of the Abraham Joshua Heschel School where my kids attended, called me one day and said, “A new synagogue called the West End Synagogue is starting up and I think you would be a perfect cantor for them. Can I give your name to the committee?”

So I interviewed for it. I was pregnant with my second child at the time, but wasn’t showing yet and they hired me. I was concerned there would be an issue with my being pregnant, and was nervous when I went to our first meeting about the High Holy Days, knowing I would need to tell them. But I waited until there were only women in the room before I announced it, and they were all very supportive. I was worried it could have gone the other way. But it all worked out and I stayed there for 12 years.

Cantor Abramson with Elie Wiesel at Park Avenue Synagogue.

And where did you go from there?

After West End, I spent 14 years as the cantor at Park Avenue Synagogue in Manhattan, from 1997 to 2011. They had had women as assistant cantors before, but I was the first woman with no “assistant” in front of my name. I worked with David Lefkowitz—a classically trained tenor—for 12 of those 14 years.

I think one of the reasons why they hired me was because I was different. While I have a classically trained voice, I could also sing folk music and get on the floor with the kids. Park Avenue Synagogue was changing from this very formal, static kind of service to something more vibrant and flowy. It was an honor and so exciting to be part of that.

Now when I go back there, I hardly recognize it. Cantor Azi Schwartz has completely transformed the place. And I am so gratified that one of my former students, Mira Davis, is the assistant cantor.

One of the reasons why I left West End Synagogue and went to Park Avenue Synagogue was because I realized I would have a lot more to work with, both in terms of congregant population and the ability to expand my own horizons. When you’re the cantor of Park Avenue Synagogue, people pay attention to you. And I don’t think I would have had some of the opportunities that I did have, had I not been there.

Park Avenue Synagogue has a long history of developing new music for use in synagogues. What were some of the musical resources at your disposal during your time there?

David Lefkowitz had been commissioning new works and there had been an orchestra at one time. By the time I got there, there was no longer an orchestra, but there was still a choir and an organ, and some instrumentalists available.

However, we did continue to commission and premiere new works. David did some tremendous work with classical synagogue composers. And I was able to reach out to some up-and-coming, younger composers. Their present cantor, Azi Schwartz, has continued to do that in a much bigger way.

Were there any composers you worked with who were particularly memorable?

When I was at JTS, Miriam Gideon was my composition teacher. She was a formidable woman who composed in a modern style. I remember programming her Bar’khu in one of the services, and the executive director came up to me afterwards and said, “We will not have anything like that again.”

Curator’s Note: The Park Avenue Synagogue commissioned Miriam Gideon to compose a Sabbath evening liturgical service in 1974.

Miriam Gideon's Bar'khu, part of her Sacred Service composition.

He didn’t understand it. And in all fairness, when you hear something once and then it goes by you, and it’s supposed to be a prayer service, that can be difficult for people. I learned my lesson. But I certainly loved being able to feature one of my teachers like that.

I programmed works by Charles Davidson, who was always able to adapt his compositions to the music people were hearing in their daily lives. He wrote The Hush of Midnight for S’lihot, this very jazzy, folky service in the 1960s. 

We certainly did Debbie Friedman’s music. I never had the panic that some of my colleagues did that Debbie was going to be the ruin of cantors. It was music that was accessible and reached people where they were.

I commissioned one of our quartet singers to do a Sim shalom for me and choir and organ. And whenever I programmed it, inevitably someone would come and say, “I felt like I was at a Broadway show.” That was a compliment to me, because that’s what people did with their time. I also worked with Zina Goldrich, a wonderful composer and Park Avenue Synagogue member. We wrote an Adon olam and an Ein keloheinu together in a very jazzy, theatrical style.

I was also able to commission my friend, Cantor Natasha Hirschhorn. She wrote a Nishmat for the early part of the service for me, and I performed that with HaZamir, the teen choir of the Zamir Choral Foundation, at Lincoln Center. I also programmed music by Gerald Cohen, Benjie Ellen Schiller, and Craig Taubman.

Cantor Abramson with Cantor Gerald Cohen at a JTS commencement ceremony, May 2019.

How did you become involved with the Jewish Theological Seminary, and what were some of your most satisfying accomplishments there?

When the position of director of the cantorial school at JTS first became available, I wasn’t sure if I wanted it. I had never worked in academia before. But I took the job, and there were things I loved about it, and there were times I felt like a square peg in a round hole.

I absolutely adored working with the cantorial and rabbinical students. Being in tune with younger people who are trying to do what I had done for over 30 years was humbling, solidifying, amazing, perplexing—all kinds of things. Every day I’d go into work and have new puzzles to solve. For example, how do we create a curriculum that covers what cantors will need for the next 30 years when synagogue life is changing so rapidly?

Then we had the COVID pandemic and were doing everything on Zoom. I was fortunate some of the students had stayed on the Upper West Side. I would go for walks with them in Central Park so that we could maintain some contact.

I was wondering if you could speak to any issues that you feel passionate about.

I'm so glad you asked that. I retired a year ago, and am having the best time of my life. I had an amazing career. JTS was the most wonderful because it used the things I had done in the cantorate and took them to another level. And I found out again just how much I really love teaching and mentoring. I could have continued at JTS, but I really thought it was time for someone else to take the reins and move things forward in a different way. Someone younger, someone with a different kind of experience.

However, I found a number of areas I thought were important for me to remain involved with, and have been doing some mentoring. Last year, I guided five seniors in their placement search and dealt with committees and students and lawyers and nervous spouses and all kinds of things. I’m continuing with some mentoring projects there this year. I joke with my friends that I’m doing what I used to do, but now I’m not getting paid for it. But giving back is hugely important to me.

And then I’m also doing musical and cantorial things for myself. I still take a High Holiday position. This will be the third year that I’m going back to the same place. I've been singing in a couple of impromptu choirs for various things. And I started taking piano lessons, something I stopped doing when I was 10, when I started playing cello. The best part is that I’m studying with someone I taught for her bat mitzvah.

I’m also volunteering for an organization that provides clothing and legal services for migrants. It’s very humbling work.

Cantor Abramson receiving the Samuel Rosenbaum Award with Cantor Ari Schwartz at the Cantors Assembly Convention, May 2018.

You were the first female to become president of the Cantors Assembly. What has your leadership meant to you, both then and today?

I did not join the Cantors Assembly for some time because I was angry that it took them so long to let women in. Then when I finally decided to join, I began the membership application and it said, “name, name of wife.” There were a number of things in the application that were clearly geared towards males. So, I crossed them all out and wrote a note saying, “If I am admitted, I’ll be happy to sit with you and rework your membership application.” It came back to me that I was “strident.” But they accepted me and then, later, I became president.

My time there helped me build relationships, allowed me to tour the country, and enabled me to speak and sing at synagogues around North America. I took the continuing education part of the Cantors Assembly very seriously, and still do. The CA is my second home.

Could you reflect on what you might say to a young person considering becoming a cantor.

The cantorate is an amazing profession for anyone who loves to sing, loves to be Jewish, and loves to work with people. Some days I’d go to work and say, “They’re actually paying me to do this?” Many singers never have an audience; cantors have an audience every week, sometimes multiple times during the week.

We get to sing things that are meaningful. We get to help people in the most joyous and the saddest moments of their lives, and to be a part of that. The experience of watching a congregant’s eyes close and saying Sh’ma and Vidui with their family is something I’ll never forget. Or, when someone I taught for their bar or bat mitzvah calls to ask me to officiate their wedding? There are so many peaks in this career and I feel incredibly blessed.

Cantor Abramson training a bat mitzvah at Park Avenue Synagogue.

Is there anything else you’d like to add?

I believe that if you can imagine things in your life, you can make them happen. I was a little girl from Milwaukee. I had no idea I would ever be on a national and international stage as a Jewish professional, as a spiritual leader, as a hazzan, and as a professor. I’m proud of myself for having done what I’ve done in my life. And even more so, I’m tremendously grateful to my family, to my friends, to my teachers and to my communities—not just for helping me, but also actively encouraging me to be the best me that I could be.

This interview is part of our Voices of Change: 50 Years of Women in the American Cantorate series.

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