Introducing Eliorah 

“When I went to Manchester, my life changed. I found that atmosphere incredibly stimulating…being around really creative people…hearing music from so many different parts of the world…Manchester helped me open up and, at the same time, just be myself”. 

Eliorah is a flautist and composer based in Prestwich. She was born into a Jewish family in London and she moved to Manchester to pursue her studies in music at the University of Manchester in 2014. As a performer, she engages with a variety of musical styles and traditions, from classical music to Jewish liturgical songs and klezmer to Persian and Syrian music. As a composer, her contemporary works have been performed in prestigious venues across the city, including the Whitworth Art Gallery. Along with Iranian musician Atefeh Einali, she also performs in a fusion duo, Avazad, which aims to bring together the ‘two worlds’ of Persian and Jewish music. 

Eliorah’s Musical Life Story 

Eliorah was born to an English father and a German mother in Hendon, an area of north London with a longstanding Jewish community and many shuls [synagogues]. She was raised in a Modern Orthodox environment, a movement which combines strict observance of Biblical and Rabbinic laws and practices, such as kashrut [dietary laws, literally ‘fitness’], with new teachings addressing developments in secular fields such as science, politics and philosophy. She attended both Jewish and non-Jewish schools over the course of her childhood, including a Chabad school, Sunnyfields Primary School and Hasmonean High School. Her earliest memories of music were of songs in Shabbat services and Jewish festivals. 

“A lot of my musical influences come from experiences. So, for instance, during Shabbat services, during festivals, just the experience of being surrounded by people that sing for hours on end is important. On Yom Kippur [Day of Atonement], when you are there for hours, you just have the tunes going round and round in your head!”. 

Eliorah began formal music training at the age of seven. She started learning the flute, enrolling in free lessons at her school, and she developed a love for classical music. As a teenager, she listened to a wide range of music and was open to music from different cultures, but classical music remained her primary focus as a performer. She recalls that her mother always encouraged her to look beyond the canonic composers of the Germanic school and defy the clichés. 

“Growing up…my main musical influence would have been classical music. I was into a huge range of things, actually. I really liked Indian music, I really liked Arabic music and Middle Eastern music generally. At the time, I suppose I didn’t really have such a distinctive idea of what I liked and what I didn’t like. All I knew is that I loved music. But I loved classical music most, because that was the first thing I was properly exposed to”. 

“My mother always encouraged me to explore music beyond the Germanic tradition…she’s never really liked Beethoven, as shocking as that is! She hates all these really traditional clichés, like pretending to end a piece but not ending things, that are strongly associated with that whole Germanic tradition. So, part of me was influenced by that. Part of me felt really strongly attracted to classical music, but also in search of alternatives. I like the idea of breaking away from those clichés”. 

Eliorah reflects that her journey in Jewish music has been complex. Despite being immersed in a Jewish soundworld in shul and at home from a young age, she often found commercial recordings of simcha [celebration] songs ‘cringy’ and unsatisfying. She suggests that this tarnished her view of Jewish music and prevented her from connecting with the great diversity of musical traditions, styles and repertoires in Jewish culture. However, this changed when she moved to Manchester, where she took a module on klezmer (an instrumental musical tradition of the Ashkenazi Jews, literally ‘vessel of song’) during her studies at the university. Nevertheless, she points out that engaging with this rich musical tradition had its difficulties, especially due to its emphasis on learning by ear. 

“I got really into klezmer when I was studying, when I was in the [university’s] Michael Kahan Kapelye. I actually realised that klezmer was something completely different and that it can actually be really, really deep and meaningful. I’ve been listening to a lot of klezmer now”. 

“I think one of the things that first struck me when I was doing klezmer is how hard it is to memorise the tunes and how hard it is to learn them by ear. After that, I realised it was a real weakness of mine that I couldn’t learn by ear so easily – it took me ages! Klezmer has all these really awkward leaps and you mix up minor triads and major triads and it’s really confusing! That’s something I found quite challenging to begin with. I just forced myself to listen and listen and listen and learn by ear and I’ve gotten a lot better that way”. 

Eliorah found this new approach helpful across her musical experiences; it inspired her to memorise the melodies of songs from shul and learn to play and arrange them for flute. She has also learnt tunes from other Jewish musical traditions, such as Sephardi music, as well as from Arabic and Syrian musics, motivated by their commonalities with Jewish music and as a statement of solidarity with refugees. She enjoys busking with her wide-ranging repertoire in her ‘second home’ of Nuremberg, in Germany, where her mother’s family is based. 

“I go back to Germany really, really frequently. So that’s almost become like my second home. That’s really influenced in terms of my sense of identity…I was busking in Germany and I was playing klezmer tunes, and I got all these people coming up to me from Bulgaria and Romania and they were like ‘You know my music?!’ and I was like ‘Well, it’s klezmer but OK!’…And a lot of the Syrians recognised [Syrian music I was playing] and were really happy!”. 

Eliorah also performs in a fusion duo, Avazad, a collaboration with santoor player Atefeh Einali. ‘Avazad’ is a concept meaning ‘song of freedom’ or ‘freedom of song’. They perform arrangements of klezmer tunes and Persian music, as well as new works and improvisations based around Jewish liturgical melodies, Dastgāh music and Jewish and Iranian modes. They are hoping to not only give performances but also lead music workshops with children, to immerse them in different sounds, creativities and interactions and enhance their musical understanding. Eliorah plans to continue her journey through classical music, Jewish musical traditions and musics from other cultures, bringing traditional musics into new contexts and creating exciting new music on deep foundations. 

“We do a lot of klezmer, but arrangements of klezmer. We like to improvise around the tunes. I like to take tunes from the oral tradition, because I haven’t heard so many arrangements of those – and there’s such a wealth of repertoire but it’s kept in this secret little world. I want to bring it out of that and take it into a new context”. 

The Meanings of Eliorah’s Music 

Eliorah states that the main purposes of her music-making are to express herself, to connect with her experiences of life, and to communicate her spiritual connection with God. 

“Music helps me to express myself. I experience life through sound. When I imitate sounds, or when I try and interpret sounds, it’s my experience of life that I’m expressing. There is a very spiritual element to that as well – my connection with God…Music is life and I can’t really draw a clear line between [sacred and secular], because, for me, religion is like a fundamental thing of life anyway. So, whether I am playing in a concert hall, or whether I’m singing in the synagogue, it comes from the same motive or incentive or principle…The creative inspiration, the essence of the music, is always the same”. 

She suggests that music is also about interaction, both within her religious community and beyond it. Eliorah has written about the two-way process of drawing creative inspiration from Jewish life while also characterising her sense of being Jewish through music and the way in which music can give people courage to ‘fully embrace difference’ while transcending cultural barriers (see ‘Avazad: Diverse musical traditions give access to new forms of communication’, Challah Magazine, October 2020, pp. 29-31, ). She is a strong believer in interfaith work and an advocate for the power of music to connect people spiritually across religious boundaries. One of her motivations to learn Arabic and Syrian music was a desire to communicate symbolically and practically between Jewish and Muslim cultures. 

“I was just really distressed by the whole refugee crisis. I felt like Jewish music and Arabic music have something in common and I like the idea of Jews and Muslims coming together. So, I [made] music with refugees [from Syria and Kurdistan]. I like the idea of exchanging these cultural phenomena”. 

Similarly, Eliorah indicates that her fusion project with Atefeh was driven by ‘the idea of interfaith’ and was particularly inspired by the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, an ensemble led by Daniel Barenboim and Edward Said which brought musicians from places across the Middle East, particularly Israel and Palestine, to make music together. Eliorah joined the Sahba Music Academy, the first Iranian music school in Manchester, to learn more about Persian music and she has even performed with the school for an Iranian audience. She believes that, ultimately, music can enable performers to communicate with each other and with audiences in a way that transcends culture, religion or ethnicity. 

“I like the idea of using music for interfaith. When [Atefeh and I] experimented in the basement [of the Martin Harris Centre], it sort of became more about cultural exchange than religious exchange. I realised it’s more about spirituality than actual religion. There’s something so spiritual in both traditions and there’s something that connects Iranian music so strongly with Jewish music”. 

“When I got together with Atefeh, I was really excited to discover Iranian music. I was really fascinated by her instrument and the huge diversity of [her] music. I joined the Sahba Academy, which is like an Iranian music school. I also performed with them in an event raising money for the floods that happened in Iran. That was so hard! I was playing this piece where we were supporting a vocalist. I was playing on my ‘Western’ flute. The advantage is that it’s a contemporary flute instrument, it has holes, so I could do quarter-tones, but not all of them work, so some I had to do my lifting my head alone. The way they ornament in Iranian music can be so fast and complex and if you get rid of the ornaments and you get rid of the music, really. So I had to do them right! I learnt the whole thing and then I found out that the vocalist couldn’t sing it in that key! So I had to read it all down a semitone, which meant all the quarter-tones down a semitone. It was such a headache! But it was a really interesting experience because it was a performance of just Iranian musicians and an Iranian audience, so I was kind of terrified because I was playing their music and I wasn’t sure if I was playing stylistically...But I had learnt it by ear and it worked. I don’t believe you necessarily always need to have the same ethnic background to get an insight into the music of other cultures”. 

Jewish Music in Manchester 

Eliorah speaks of her move to Manchester as a transformational experience for her music career and musical interests. She suggests that the vibrant environment of the city allowed her to meet musicians from different backgrounds and hear music from many different cultures and that this exposure enabled her to pursue the wide range of performing and composing activities that she engages with today, while simultaneously encouraging her to re-discover musical traditions from her own heritage. 

“When I was in London, I wasn’t really exposed to very many other musicians, I was kind of in my own little bubble…You don’t really interact with very many other cultures. There’s not so many platforms to come into contact with people that easily…Manchester has an atmosphere that I found incredibly stimulating…Also, just on a personal level, I found it easier to interact with people in Manchester, because [the people there] tend to be a bit more laid back, friendly, easier to talk to”. 

“If I had stayed in London, I don’t think I would ever have really gotten into klezmer. I got into klezmer because people were interested in it. And that’s something that is infectious – someone else’s inspiration and motivation, it gives you strength. It’s basically the energy that is transferred. Whereas, London [has] this very much classical influence. In London, you need to have the money to go into different scenes. Maybe if I went to SOAS, I could’ve had this kind of experience. But, where I was, I didn’t get this – most people in the Jewish community there were interested in classical music. In London, I probably would have pursued a classical-oriented route. Manchester opened me up”. 

However, in both London and Manchester, Eliorah suggests that people like herself, who aspire to become a professional musician while also remaining observant, face difficulties in pursuing their careers. 

“I believed that I had a chance of becoming a performer and playing in concerts, maybe playing chamber music or something…but I realised that, as an Orthodox Jew, it’s not really possible, because you can’t really be in an orchestra if you keep Shabbat. This is why I decided I would like to be freelance, for the main reason I can work according to what works for me. But I have still had to decline a lot of opportunities. For instance, I could have been teaching on Saturdays, I can’t do that. I have had opportunities to perform on Saturdays, but I can’t. I do find it a bit infuriating in a way. I suppose I’m getting used to it and, if I stick to my principles, people respect me for it. It is difficult. There are usually enough opportunities on Sundays though!”. 

Nevertheless, Eliorah is quite optimistic about the future of klezmer and Jewish music in Manchester, and she particularly hopes that, in time, more opportunities arise for Jewish people to re-discover klezmer and help to reinvigorate this rich musical tradition. 

“My Jewish friends are always so surprised people who are not Jewish like Jewish music!. Even in Manchester, a lot of the Jewish cultural scene, the klezmer concerts for example, are coming from the university – they’re not actually coming from the community itself…I think I would like it if it were possible for Jewish people to become more involved themselves. There is a hole in the education somehow. I suppose in a minority culture, I think they’re much more likely to be exposed to classical music at school. I don’t think they necessarily would see the benefits of klezmer, of learning klezmer properly. I think we need to change the dissemination”. 

‘Mizmor Shir’ (see video) 

In this video, Eliorah performs an arrangement of ‘Mizmor Shir LeYom HaShabbat [A Song for the Sabbath Day]. 

“According to the Talmud this would’ve been sung by the tribe of Levi during temple times. It is performed as part of the evening service, welcoming Shabbat into our lives. According to some aggadic sources the song was written by Adam himself as a tribute to the gift of repentance. Whether the poem can or cannot be traced that far back in the course of history, it is nevertheless a beautiful contribution to the Shabbat service. There is something so deep and haunting about the tune, that it continues to linger in my thoughts long after the service has ended. Traditionally sung solo by the leader of the congregation, this tune is something I often hear, but have never had the opportunity to sing myself, which is one of the reasons why I decided to create my own interpretation of it on the flute”. 

This hymn is part of a repertoire of songs which are closely associated with Shabbat. Eliorah explains that she made a series of recordings of these melodies when she was unable to attend shul during the lockdowns instigated by the Covid-19 pandemic, as she found herself deeply missing the music. 

“During lockdown, when services were all finished and we couldn’t go, I really missed those tunes, because I associate them with that one day of the week. So, I decided to try and practise what I’d learned by ear and play it on the flute and then work out improvisations based on that. So I’m really interested in exploring things that are transferred throughout the oral tradition, things that we just know but we just sing them. For me, it’s like a fragment of line that you take out of its context and you re-frame it, as a sort of image of your own experience”.

‘Lecha Dodi’ (see audio) Eliorah made this arrangement of ‘Lecha Dodi [Come out my Beloved]’ as part of her lockdown series of Shabbat songs. This is a song from the Friday night Shabbat service, written by Rabbi Shlomo HaLevi Alkabetz (c. 1500-1580) in the mystical Kabbalah tradition. It inaugurates Shabbat, welcoming ‘her’ as a ‘kallah [bride]’. Eliorah’s arrangement involves improvisation, which she indicates is primarily drawn from her explorations of doina, a semi-improvisational form found within several musical traditions in Eastern Europe, including klezmer, which is thought to have originated in Romania. However, during our discussion, it also become clear that cantorial chant itself is a core inspiration for her ornamentation style, a tradition which Eliorah has actually taken part in via partnership minyanim. 

“Cantorial chant is one of my biggest inspirations. I even learnt to do it myself, even though that’s not traditional. [I did it] mostly for musical reasons. There’s a thing called a partnership minyan, where women can participate as well. I’ve leyned [chanted] a couple of times as well. I always wanted to do that in my music as well, but I didn’t realise that came in to my playing!”.