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Blow by Blow

Shofar maker, Shimon Keinan, 77, is constantly on the lookout for the perfect ram’s horn


Photos: Menachem Kalish

From the markets in Marrakesh to a workshop in the Golan, Shimon Keinan is constantly on the lookout for the perfect ram’s horn. The sound of the shofar has been in his bones since he was a kid in Casablanca, and now he’s finally fulfilling his dream — fashioning those horns for people around the world, yet saving his best one for the Great Shofar

The Marrakesh market in Morocco is bustling, as usual, with pungent scents of exotic spices penetrating the sultry air and eye-catching checkered fabrics hanging over the stalls and alleyways. But 77-year-old Shimon Keinan, a shofar maker from Moshav Givat Yoav on the southern slopes of the Golan Heights, isn’t letting himself get distracted by the attack on his senses. He’s here on the lookout for only one thing: the perfect Moroccan ram’s horns for his shofar factory. (A kosher shofar need not be from an animal that was slaughtered properly by shechitah, as long as it originates from a kosher species.)

He walks carefully between the stalls, gently running his fingers along every ram’s horn he sees, skillfully inspecting the curvature and natural luster. For him, each one of these raw, unprocessed horns, sold for a variety of uses to the general public, is a treasure — for he can sense the potential of each one to become a shofar. Even amid the noisy din of the Marrakesh market, Keinan hears the holy sounds of Rosh Hashanah.

Trade Secrets

Today, Shimon Keinan’s family-run shofar workshop and visitor center, called Kol Shofar, is a popular tourist attraction for visitors to Israel’s north, and one of the most reliable places in the country to purchase a kosher shofar. What started as a literal backyard hobby shop in the 1990s actually has its roots in Keinan’s childhood in Casablanca, Morocco.

“I discovered the shofar walking with my father to the beit knesset when I was a child,” he says. “I was captivated right away, and it wasn’t long before I learned how to blow the shofar myself. By age ten, I was already a proficient shofar blower, but we were poor and I didn’t have the means to buy a real shofar, so I improvised and made my own. I took rubber tubing, wound it in a coil, and attached a tin funnel to the end for the sound to come out — it looked a bit like a French horn — and that’s how I practiced as a kid.

Of course, he practiced on real shofars, too, and by the time he was 18, he was an official baal tokeia. “I went on to serve as baal tokeia for close to a decade in two shuls — one Sephardic and one Ashkenazi,” he says. “That’s how I learned about the different minhagim in each community.”

Years later, he decided to try his hand at making a shofar himself. “We’d moved to Givat Yoav, and we’d slaughtered a wild sheep on the moshav for some festive occasion,” he recalls (while domesticated sheep often don’t have horns, wild sheep — both rams and even female ewes — begin to grow horns at around a year old). “While everyone sat and feasted, I asked for the horn. I then did my best to process it and the result was actually quite beautiful. Shofar making has been a part of me ever since.”

For years, Keinan only produced shofars in his spare time as a hobby. He was a metal worker by profession, but when he was in his 50s and had created a nest egg of financial security, he decided to turn his passion into a reality. He closed his lucrative metal factory to focus exclusively on shofars.

“I felt tremendous siyata d’Shmaya,” he says. “Through my rav, I managed to get in touch with an elderly shofar maker who wanted to pass on his knowledge before he passed away. For two years, I would travel to his workshop in south Tel Aviv to learn the trade secrets of shofar making. Once I understood the technique, I was able to develop tools and machines that helped me refine the process and improve on the traditional production methods in order to make the best shofars out there. It was my dream come true.

Hunt for the Perfect Horn

“MY hunt for shofar horns takes me to all kinds of exotic places,” Keinan says. In addition to traveling back to his native Morocco, he’s been to Turkey, South Africa, and many other countries, including Muslim states that aren’t particularly sympathetic to the State of Israel.

Keinan explains that Israel, like most countries, doesn’t have a horn industry, due to the number of regulations involved, and the age at which the sheep used for meat are slaughtered (generally before they develop horns). Yet his fluency in Arabic — owing to his Moroccan childhood — opens many doors for him.

“The horn market is actually quite complex, and treacherous, too,” he says, noting that there is a lot of tefillah that goes along with his business dealings. “Horn dealers are well aware that 90 percent of their clients are Jewish, so they try to extort the highest prices they can get. It took me years to build up a rapport with numerous dealers, but baruch Hashem, today they trust me and always let me know when they have high-quality goods, and I come as fast as I can. Sometimes they offer me hundreds of horns at a time.”

Keinan says he’s always excited to look at a horn in its raw condition and imagine what it would look like as an elegant shofar.

“Shofar blowers from all over the country come and ask me to find them a shofar,” he says. “I look at the way they hold the shofar and blow it, offer advice when necessary, and help them choose the shofar that will be the best fit for them.”

The shofars at Kol Shofar are meticulously handcrafted in the family workshop behind their home, paying special attention not only to the highest level of quality, but to kashrus, ease of blowing, cleanliness, and sound.

The atmosphere in the factory is a combination of manual labor and holy purpose. A collection of shofars at different stages of production are scattered on the table, while modern tools and advanced technical equipment testify to the professionalism and precision of the production process. In the factory yard, piles of ram’s horns await their turn to be processed.

Rare Breeds

The results of the production process can be viewed in the workshop’s visitors’ center, where a rich variety of shofars in different sizes, styles, and types are on display.

“Do you see that shofar?” Keinan asks, pointing to a particularly long, curled piece. He measures it with a tape measure —it’s more than a meter and a half long. Beside it is another shofar of similar length. “These shofars are extremely rare. We only get hold of horns such as these once in about ten years, and I save them for customers who can appreciate their uniqueness.”

There are three types of kosher shofars that are accessible, the most popular and preferred being the ram’s horn. But there is also the kudu shofar, taken from a certain species of antelope with large, curled antlers. The kudu shofar, which can be up to a meter and a half in length and sells for up to 2,000 shekels (about $530), is also known as the Yemenite shofar, traditional in Teimani kehillos, as over the centuries it was easier to obtain kudu antlers than rams’ horns.

There is also a type of shofar taken from the oryx, a species of antelope common in most of the African continent, and in the past was even found in Eretz Yisrael. There is a dispute, though, as to whether this shofar, black and straight with a sound resembling that of a trumpet, is valid for performing the mitzvah of shofar on Rosh Hashanah.

Keinan walks between the shelves, picking up different shofars and explaining the stories behind them: This shofar is made from a horn sold to him by an African merchant on the banks of a river; next to it lies an antiquated shofar made from antelope antlers imported to Israel before the founding of the State, while a third is made from a goat’s horn, customarily used by the Jews of Italy.

While Elul is usually a relatively quiet season for him, since most of his inventory has already been shipped to clients, there are always a few last-minute orders. Today he’s working on a large order of Yemenite shofars whose antler shipment was delayed due to the war. The antlers arrived at the factory just last week, and he’s been hard at work ever since drilling and polishing the long, curled antlers until he is satisfied with the results.

The business has its ups and downs: Sometimes shofars can get damaged in the manufacturing process and are rendered pasul; and he once had a break-in, where a thief stole a unique and valuable shofar that had been fashioned from an extremely rare antler, with a clear and resonant timbre.

But those are the downs of any business. The exciting moments, he says, far make up for them. “I once had a customer who was a baal tokeia and he had lost sensation in his lower lip due to a traffic accident, but insisted on continuing to blow,” Keinan says. “I worked on the mouthpiece and implemented some techniques I created especially for him. He took the shofar in tears and told me that his only worry after the accident was that he wouldn’t be able to blow the shofar on Rosh Hashanah. It made all those hours of work worth it.”

Take a Breath

Most baalei tokeia have their own well-worn shofar, and although Keinan blows numerous shofars every day, he, too, has his favorite. “Come Elul, I blow the shofar at dozens of different shuls and events, and I always use my own personal shofar, which I made 19 years ago. It’s not a particularly rare or special specimen, but we’ve become a team.”

Doesn’t all that blowing wear Keinan out? “Absolutely not. If you’re blowing correctly, you shouldn’t get tired,” he says. “The problem is that many people don’t realize this. I meet baalei tokeia who don’t know how to exhale properly. They strain and strain, putting their whole body into the effort, until the shofar goes silent and they have to give up. It’s not just about blowing, it’s about doing it with proper, healthy breathing techniques.”

Most of us begin to hear the shofar in Elul, but the real drama comes on Rosh Hashanah morning before Mussaf, when the brachos are invoked and the tension of judgement is in the air. Are the tekios on Rosh Hashanah still able to move Shimon Keinan, even though he’s in the sound all year round?

“You’d be surprised, but it absolutely does move me every time, because there’s no comparing blowing a shofar in a workshop to blowing it in shul. All year round, I blow so often without a brachah, but on Rosh Hashanah I have the zechut to make a brachah and carry the tzibbur along with me. It’s no longer a job, but a mitzvah and a mission. I get goosebumps just talking about it.”

Connect to Your Shofar

IN a far corner are two giant, unfinished shofars on a shelf. Are they a special order for some gvir? “Actually,” he says, “I’m waiting for a client to express interest in those very special horns so that we can drill them and fine-tune them together. Sometimes these kinds of shofars are bought for rabbanim or rebbes, but for the most part, the buyers are not collectors or people with a lot of money, but rather those who are going to blow at large events. It’s important for them to have a beautiful, imposing shofar, so they’re willing to invest in size and appearance.”

There is a small niche market of people who buy shofars not for the purpose of the mitzvah. “Some shofars are used to play at weddings or orchestras, and there are also evangelical Christians who love Israel and purchase a shofar to show their allegiance. But you know, the highest quality tekiah doesn’t necessarily come from the biggest shofar — sometimes the smallest shofar gives the best sound.”

Keinan says that a cheap shofar can be purchased for just 80 shekels, but the prices of especially fancy, large, or rare horns can reach many thousands of shekels. “There are also shofars that are so special that I don’t sell them on principle. I have a unique and very beautiful shofar that I keep in the back of my closet, waiting for the arrival of Mashiach. I made it in his honor.”

But let the buyer beware: There are a lot of cheap shofars out there — you can find them in the shuk or supermarket before Rosh Hashanah, or at the entrance to the more popular kivrei tzaddikim. “The problem,” Keinan says, “is that many of them are imported from China. Their price is low, but the kashrus is highly questionable, and most of them are simply pasul.”

He explains that there are four basic criteria for a shofar to be kosher: The horn has to originate from a ram (a mature male sheep) or related species (not a cow or bull), it must be a minimum size, the cartilage has to be removed properly, the horn cannot be cracked, nor can it have a hole.

“Distinguishing a kosher shofar from a pasul one isn’t simple,” he says. “You have to be a practiced professional. To avoid mistakes, I recommend purchasing only from a trusted brand that specializes in tashmishei kedushah. In general, it’s worth remembering that when the price is too low, it’s a clear indication that the shofar doesn’t meet halachic standards.”

Besides the technical work, there’s also the halachic supervision to ensure that the shofar meets all the criteria. No shofar leaves Keinan’s workshop without a stamp of approval from the Badatz Eidah Hachareidis.”

He says that some people come into the shop and say, “Give me your best shofar, at any price.”

“But then I’m at a loss,” he says, “because there’s no such thing as ‘the best shofar.’ Both the shofars that sell for 80 shekels and the ones that sell for several thousand can be the best for those who buy them. You just have to connect to your shofar.”

Waiting for the Day

IN a regular year, the Kol Shofar workshop can expect up to 14,000 visitors, and most of those are groups that come during Elul. This year, though, due to escalated tensions in the North, the crowds have pretty much stayed away. But Keinan, who’s lived in this part of the country for decades, isn’t worried.

“I’m a person of emunah,” he says. “During the coronavirus pandemic, I saw firsthand how even a big calamity can counterintuitively help your business grow, as the demand for shofars skyrocketed due to the large number of small minyanim that cropped up due to all the restrictions. We thought our business would take a hit, but the volume of orders we got was just incredible. So I’ve learned to let HaKadosh Baruch Hu run the world. I trust Him to do it in the best way possible.”

Meanwhile, he’s waiting for the day, hopefully in the very near future, when he’ll be able to reach deep into his closet and take out the special shofar he crafted to greet King Mashiach.

 

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1031)

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