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What is the right way, and perhaps the best way, to remember 10.27? I do not think that I could offer one simple answer, as there are many ways to do so. I had the privilege this past Saturday evening of experiencing one of them. The PSO (Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra) is world-renowned, under the baton of Maestro Manfred Honeck. Thirty days after the shooting, on November 27, 2023, the PSO put together a moving concert that I participated in, and despite the inherent prohibitions within mourning not to listen to music, I was grateful that I did, for it eased my pain and began my path of healing.

Maestro Honeck understands the impact that music can have upon one’s soul, and reached out to Boris Pigovat, a Ukrainian-born Israeli composer, to commission a new work to coincide with the fifth commemoration. This gesture by itself was something beyond compare, and demonstrates a level of humanity and compassion that does our city proud. Mary Persin, Vice-President for Artistic Planning, reached out to me during the summer to let me know about this newly-commissioned work, and the date set for it. My excitement dropped when she told me that it was to be the weekend that coincided with Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah. I explained to her that while Reform Judaism observes seven days of Sukkot, Conservative and Orthodox Jews observe eight days. Sukkot would not end until that Sunday evening, which would mean that those groups would be unable to attend. I could hear the disappointment in her voice, for I know that concerts are planned years in advance. She said that it would have to be rescheduled, which it was for November 25, 2023. But that is not the entire story.

The original date for its premiere was to be October 7, which we know will live in Jewish history for eternity as the day 1,400 of our brothers and sisters in Israel were slaughtered by Hamas terrorists. The composer, Boris Pigovat, had finished the work well before, and to honor the memory of the eleven victims of 10.27, he named it Yizkor. That is the name for the memorial service held at the conclusion of festivals. While we were reciting Yizkor on October 7, we already knew that ten hours earlier, the massacre had begun. This new composition took on an even more powerful meaning as it rang true for Pittsburgh and Israel.

Most impactful for me were the concluding few minutes of the piece. The violas are playing a mournful chant that I knew to be the Kel Malei Rachamim, the prayer chanted in memory of our departed. The orchestra gradually crescendos into what I would describe as an organized, overwhelming sound of evil, drowning out the violas. The orchestra subsides, and we hear that the violas have not stopped. They continue until the piece concludes. I could hear the air literally sucked out of Heinz Hall as tears poured down my face. The audience nervously began to applaud after Maestro Honeck slowly lowered his arms, uncertain if applause was appropriate. We wanted to express appreciation to the orchestra, yet this moment of prayer transcended applause. To me, the message received was that evil will overwhelm us at times, but it will subside, and the 4,000-year presence of the Jewish people continues.

The music spoke in ways that mere words can never, as it reached deep into my soul. I am grateful for the PSO and Maestro Honeck for commissioning this new work, for the message that doing so made to the entire world, and that I was graced to be able to be carried aloft by Yizkor and moved to another dimension of being. For those interested, I have shared below a link to a newspaper article about it. You will need to scroll to section B.

https://pge.post-gazette.com/pf3/edition/20231127/3