Dancing at Jewish Weddings
One day in early October last year, I found myself riding home from the local big box hardware and home store with three brooms strapped to my bike. I’m sure you can imagine the types of comments I received. The best was at a stoplight, when the passenger in the car next to me looked down from his open window and said, “Cool, dual exhaust.”
Why am I telling you this? Because I think it’s funny (well, I thought so, at any rate). But, how did I end up in that situation? Therein lies the tale.
That month was rather busy for me, in that my son was to be married on October 13—not as busy as I would have been had it been my daughter’s wedding, but I was not left out of preparations entirely. In addition to hosting a rehearsal dinner (to which my son and his then-fiancée thought nothing of including twin 2-year-old flower girls—a story for another time), I also had a hand in selecting the music.
It is not hard to understand whence came the custom of dancing at a wedding. In virtually every culture, weddings are deemed to be joyous occasions (sometimes regardless of the feelings of the direct participants), and dancing is a natural outlet for joyous expression.
The Talmud refers to the practice of dancing before the bride as already so ingrained as to provide proof that she was entitled to a Ketubah of 200 dinars. (Ketubot 16b) The discussion in the Talmud continues as to what specific praise of the bride should be extended at that time. (id. 17a) While the exact recital set forth in the Talmud may no longer be spoken, over the years certain dances have become traditional, if not, indeed, de rigueur. And, no dance is more closely associated with a Jewish wedding than the Hora.
An inclusive circle with choreography simple enough to follow or, even if that is too difficult, of a rhythm that can accommodate just running along to the music, at weddings it is danced around the couple lifted on chairs and simultaneously both connected and separated by a handkerchief or scarf, one end of which is held by each. The simple rhythm of the dance can accommodate a number of different tunes, but the standard is “Hava Nagillah,” meaning “let us rejoice,” which the remaining lyrics restate with slight variations.
If you thought that the hora was what the Talmud had in mind, you would be sadly mistaken. The circle dance itself is Romanian and did not achieve its iconic status until it was revived by Baruch Agadat, a Romanian Jewish choreographer, in what was then Mandatory Palestine, a mere 100 years ago. The lifting of the couple in chairs derives from a much older tradition rooted in the separation of the sexes at Orthodox weddings.
By the 11th century, the Rabbis’ dancing before the bride in the Talmud had evolved into the couple’s sitting in chairs facing each other while the men danced around them. (Machzor Vitry 496). Because men and women are separated by a mechitsa (divider), they dance separately. In order for the bride and groom to dance together, although without touching, they needed to be lifted beyond the height of the mechitsa. This iteration of the Talmudic custom was grafted onto the Hora.
A separate descendant of the Talmudic dance is the Mitzvah Tanz, now performed only at some Hasidic weddings. It is not done by Ashkenazim, Sephardim or Chabad Chasidim, so if you want to see it, you would probably have to search on YouTube. Again, it involves men, relatives of the bride or groom, dancing before the bride who stands perfectly still and is connected with a gartel to the man dancing before her.
Another traditional dance you are unlikely to see is the Kazatsky, not so much because it is limited to a narrow Jewish ethnic demographic, but because it is fiendishly difficult to do. Of Ukrainian origin, it is comparable to doing a wall sit on one leg, kicking with the other and alternating at a high rate of speed, all without the wall. There are some spectacular performances on YouTube, but mainly, if not exclusively, by Russian soldiers and Cossacks. Be forewarned.
If you are wondering what the women are doing while the men are doing all this dancing, rest assured they are dancing also, but they are not simply stomping around to the music. Orthodox women in particular take classes in Simchah Dancing, which generally involves elaborate choreography of popular religious songs and goes in and out of fashion at lightning speed. It is usually a great workout if you can find a class.
Which brings us to the brooms. They show up in wedding ceremonies in various cultures. Older unmarried siblings of a Cajun bride and groom dance with brooms at the wedding. African Americans trace their custom of jumping over a broom to the time of slavery when they were not permitted to engage in traditional rites. It came to symbolize starting a new live together. In Ghana, a broom is waved over the heads of the couple to ward off evil spirits. Among Ashkenazi Jews, the use of a broom is more down to earth—it is a prop in the Mizinke Tanz.
Like the Hora, the Mizinke is of surprisingly recent origin. The song “Di Mizinke Oysgegebn,” “The youngest daughter is given away,” composed by Mordechai Warshavsky in Kiev in 1901, became popular with Jewish wedding bands and played near the end of the evening, is part of the bandleader’s shtick. On the occasion of the last daughter’s wedding, the parents symbolically sweep the children out of the house while dancing to the tune. It has been suggested that African American or Cajun musicians may have inspired the addition of actual brooms for verisimilitude.
In my case, although it was my son getting married and not my daughter, I wanted to do the Mizinke Tanz and convinced my now machatunim to take part (although my machitin chickened out). My machatunaista and I choreographed it, practiced it and completely botched it at the wedding. I admit, I messed up first.
Sue Kleinberg is a contributing writer to Jlife Magazine.
