Veteran chazzanim Dovid and Avrohom Cukier discuss the task of leading a kehillah’s tefillos on the holiest days of the year

 

 

By Reuvain Borchardt

 

 

 

“Hineni he’ani mima’as…”

 

It’s one of the most solemn moments of the year, as the Mussaf shliach tzibbur stands before Hashem, pleading that he be found a worthy messenger for the kehillah’s tefillos.

 

Everyone’s fortune hangs in the balance: for rich or poor, healthy or sick, life or death.

 

The magnitude of the upcoming hours is palpable. But for the chazzan himself, it’s next level. It’s his voice that will carry the prayers and hopes and dreams and desires and regrets and penitence and entreaties to the Master of the Universe for judgment—all while he’s standing on his feet and using his voice continuously for hours, with neither food, drink, nor rest.

 

What is it like to stand at the amud on the Days of Awe, when every word bears the weight of din and rachamim? How do you prepare to carry the tzibbur through the most sacred hours of the year? What does it feel like to know that in this moment, your voice is not just yours, but theirs?

 

In advance of the Yamim Nora’im, brothers Dovid and Avrohom Yehuda Cukier, both trained chazzanim, sat with The Voice in Dovid’s Prospect Vines home to discuss this unique and holy job of spiritual stewardship and vocal endurance.

 

The Prep

 

Some people don’t give much thought to the Yamim Nora’im before Erev Rosh Hashanah. For others, the entire Elul is steeped in holiness and reflection. But for chazzanim, preparing for the Yamim Nora’im can be the work of a lifetime.

 

The Cukier family, including their father and ybl”c grandfather, all have beautiful voices and love to sing, but Dovid and Avrohom each decided when they were around 17 to become chazzanim and began taking voice lessons.

 

Now, well over a decade later, both still take voice lessons from time to time, and they regularly practice vocal exercises. But in the weeks before the Yamim Nora’im, the training goes into overdrive.

 

The brothers’ methods differ somewhat.

 

Dovid, chazzan in the Agudah of Highland Park, uses sprays, pills, and vitamins that help thin the throat’s secretions.

 

“I even tried raw eggs once,” he laughs, “but it wasn’t too appetizing.”

 

He’s careful to avoid acidy foods, and he doesn’t drink coffee on Rosh Hashanah, as caffeine can dry the throat.

 

Avrohom, who spends the Yamim Nora’im in Los Angeles as the chazzan in Rabbi Edelstein’s shul, says he’s “not too busy worrying about these things; I do what I usually do, and I drink my coffee in the morning.”

 

But he does utilize some natural remedies to reduce inflammation, gargling salt water regularly and drinking an extremely thick chicken soup daily the week before Rosh Hashanah.

 

Breathing exercises are also essential, and Avrohom uses the breathing ball typically found in hospitals and nursing homes.

 

“When you daven for the amud,” he says, “you’re under pressure, in a rush, and not relaxed. You can’t pause and take a deep breath. Your breathing has to be very prepared.”

 

During those moments in davening when the kehillah answers the chazzan’s chant with “ah ah yay yay,” you may enjoy the opportunity for a bit of singing, but for the shliach tzibbur it’s a relief to have those moments to breathe.

 

The Performance

 

While chazzanim may seem to be giving maximum effort, they’re in fact usually not using their full voice.

 

“The fuller your voice is, the more you’re going to use it up,” Dovid says. “Keep your voice light. Let it flow on its own.”

 

Despite all the prep and precautions, every chazzan has had a little scare, the day they woke up with a cold or their voice wasn’t perfect. This is where all the groundwork and practice really comes into play.

 

 

 

 

Dovid says that thanks to his training, “Even if my voice is only at 80 percent, I’m ready to perform.”

 

“If I have a cold,” Avrohom says, “by certain shtiklach I might not be able to go as high. But for most of davening, I’ll be just fine. I’ll strain and it’ll be harder for me, but the tzibbur won’t notice it.”

 

Besides, he says, “It’s not like a concert where every single note has to be absolutely perfect.”

 

The congregants may wonder how the chazzan can stand on his feet so long while fasting on Yom Kippur, but the brothers say their performance on Rosh Hashanah is actually more difficult.

 

“On Rosh Hashanah, you really have to show your voice is shining,” Dovid explains. “On Yom Kippur, you want to just bring out the heart of the davening; people are fasting and weak, and they’re not interested in you schlepping. Of course, it’s the holiest day of the year, and you do your nice shtiklach, but you don’t have to strain your voice so much.”

 

The Melodies

 

Though the Yamim Nora’im davening is based on ancient nusach, many congregations like to have some contemporary melodies sprinkled in.

 

Both brothers use a mixture, though Avrohom shades slightly more contemporary than his older brother.

 

“We have somewhat different audiences,” he says, “and one of the most important jobs of a chazzan is to adapt to his audience.

 

“The trick is to have that balance where it feels like the traditional Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur davening, but you’re putting in more recent tunes as well. People want the traditional tunes that make up a davening, but they also want to have tunes they can sing to.”

He’ll do the typical nusach for two of the three times he recites Hayom Haras Olam and Areshes Sifaseinu, but for one of the three he’ll sing a contemporary tune.

 

Though Dovid’s davening is somewhat more traditional, “I put a color in the nusach in that I do chazzanus pieces intertwined with the nusach.”

 

Among the newer melodies Dovid does use, some are decades old and others much more recent, including Abie Rotenberg’s “Haben Yakir Li”; Chaim Banet’s “Ko Amar”; Rabbi Akiva Homnick’s “Chamol”; Hillel Paley’s “Ochila LaKel”; and V’chol Maaminim to tune of Shlomo Carlebach’s “Tov Lehodos” or “Vechulam Mekablim” by the Kaliver Rebbe, Rav Menachem Mendel Taub.

 

And of course, like any good chazzan who needs to earn his paycheck, entertain the tzibbur, and show off a little, they do chazzanus pieces from time to time. “Not too much so the davening doesn’t schlep,” Dovid winks, “but at times we’ll extend a final high note.”

 

The Responsibility

 

While a good chazzan is enjoyable to listen to and his melodies keep the tzibbur focused and involved, ultimately his job is a grave responsibility of being an emissary for his congregation before Hashem on the holiest days of the year.

 

“Everything lies on the Yamim Nora’im,” Dovid says. “I take very seriously the emotions and where I put in the extra feeling—places like, obviously, Unesaneh Tokef and Hineni. You want to inspire the tzibbur to daven and do teshuvah.”

 

 

Avrohom regularly looks through davening to understand the teitsch and pshatim on deeper and deeper levels, because “then you automatically daven with more hartz.”

 

He also feels that the tzibbur reacts to the chazzan. “The more energy I put into the V’imeru Aaaameiiiin,” he says, “the better response I get.”

 

“And the energy is reciprocal. The crowd feeds off the ba’al tefillah, and the ba’al tefillah feeds off the crowd.”

 

While the davening reflects the solemnity of the Yamin Nora’im, the brothers feel it’s important to also include pieces with a more upbeat tone, like when praising Hashem during Malchiyos. And there are times things are downright joyful, like by V’yesoyu and at the end of davening, by Hayom T’amtzeinu.

 

“I want to get so much energy there that people will be jumping up and down and clapping,” Dovid smiles.

 

For Avrohom, a highlight of every davening is the jubilant Kaddish Shaleim at the end of chazaras hashatz.

 

“You want to sing a tune that makes everyone feel happy and confident that Hashem has accepted our tefillos,” he says. “And after that Kaddish, I always turn around, and the people are smiling. Not only because they finished davening—but because they felt this was a good davening. We cried, we sang hartzige niggunim, now we’re confident, we’re happy. We accomplished what we set out to do.”

 

The Path

 

To those youngsters who have good voices and are thinking of becoming chazzanim, Dovid says it’s essential to get started anywhere at all.

 

“Get yourself an amud for the Yamim Nora’im. Even in a small shul that doesn’t pay. Just grab onto whatever you can get, and you can grow from there.”

And knowing and believing in your capabilities is key.

 

“One of the most important big things in being a successful ba’al tefillah,” Avrohom says, “is confidence. The voice will come out nicer, and everything will be better. If you’re not confident—if you’re worried that you’re not really good or that the tzibbur doesn’t like you, you subconsciously suppress your voice.

 

“If you know you’re good, don’t doubt yourself. When you’re singing a song, just sing it. Don’t think, ‘Am I doing good or not?’ And just because you’re not getting a great response from the tzibbur doesn’t necessarily mean you are doing a bad job. There are different types of tzibburs. Some like singing more than others. But you go forward, with full confidence, daven for the amud, give it all you got you, and they’ll sense it in your voice.”

 

Avrohom had internalized the lesson of being sure of oneself at least as far back as 2011, when he was a bachur in BMG. He was taking chazzanus lessons but had never sang professionally. Suddenly, a friend who was getting married the next day called him in a state of panic, saying that his wedding singer had fallen through and asking if Avrohom could do the job. He grabbed it.

 

The dynamic duo of Avrumi Berko on keyboard and Avrohom Cukier on vocals led a killer set that night, and the rookie singer knew he would make it. Not that he’d ever doubted himself.

 

These days, the Cukiers sing at simchos together. Their specialty is weekend events, davening for the amud and singing zemiros at the Shabbos seudos. They also sing at bar mitzvahs, sheva brachos, and during wedding meals.

 

The brothers who grew up across from the Yoshon Beis Medrash prefer to view themselves as bnei Torah who learn in BMG and sing part-time because they love to sing and to help with parnassah rather than going aggressively for the celebrity and fame that could result from a greater online presence or the intense schedule and competition necessary for lucrative wedding-singing gigs.

 

Avrohom has composed and released a song called “Torah Hakedoshah”; Dovid has released several chazzanus albums. Yet there are no online clips of them performing live, with the exception of a duet Dovid did with Avraham Fried at a Bonei Olam Lakewood fundraiser in 2023.

 

And what a duet it was.

 

It was Dovid’s first time onstage with a celebrity, and he not only held his own but enthralled the legend.

 

After they performed “Aderaba” together, Fried gasped, “Wow.” And when they sang “Tanya,” as Dovid belted out the high notes to “Kah Hashem tzevakos,” Fried exclaimed, “Are you a ba’al tefillah on Rosh Hashanah Yom Kippur? I’d like to come hear you live!”

 

The Last Word

 

Asked if there’s anything they wished people knew about being a ba’al tefillah, Avrohom replies that it’s much more than simply being a performer and picking up a paycheck at the end of the show.

 

“Some people look at us as if we’re doing a job, but it’s much more than that,” he says. “We feel a responsibility to the tzibbur. You really have to do an avodah, knowing the teitsh words and knowing the achrayus you have.”

 

And the impact of their holy work lasts far beyond the end of Ne’ilah.

 

“In my shul,” Dovid says, “every time I come back, the president reminds me that though I may not see this tzibbur anymore after Yom Kippur, the Yamim Nora’im davening sets the tone for the kehillah for the entire year.”

 

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