For singer Motty Steinmetz, music is a gateway to the soul

While Motty Steinmetz traces his inspiration to the legendary baalei tefillah of the Baal Shem Tov’s heichal, he brings to that tradition a sound that’s all his own, drawing out aspirations and yearnings listeners weren’t even aware of, helping them access dreams long thought dashed. But his story isn’t about him finding a voice — it’s about a voice finding him

"Let’s go,” says Motty Steinmetz enthusiastically as he sits at the table.

The popular Bnei Brak born-and-bred chassidic singer, who will turn 30 this summer, quickly showcases his almost effortless command of English. It’s his third language, but he eagerly rises to the challenge of a lengthy interview.

He’s already been in the public eye (and ear) for close to nine years, and his songs are the favored ringtones on Israeli kosher phones, but it seems there’s still a great deal to learn about Motty Steinmetz.

“My first time in America, eight or nine years ago, I had a few basics in English, but I really knew nothing,” he admits as he leans in. “But I was curious, and over time I tried to pick it up, saying a few words. When I was at the Rechnitzes’ house, his children used to laugh at me. I told them, ‘You can laugh, just tell me how to say it right.’

“That’s how I learned. I wasn’t ashamed to make a mistake.”

He gets plenty of help now from his English-speaking wife, Malka, and is even beginning to develop traces of his British-born shvigger’s accent. Being able to vault the language barrier has served him well on his many trips from his Bnei Brak base to out-of-town America.

“It’s a brachah, it’s siyata d’Shmaya,” he says, waving a hand skyward. “It’s a matanah, and I’m so grateful for it. I can reach so many more people because of it.”

He will be reaching the multitudes through another channel as well — his new album, Atik Yomin, which was released on Rosh Chodesh Shevat. The title is derived from an Aramaic reference to Hashem in Sefer Daniel and Kabbalistic literature; it translates roughly as “Ancient One of Days,” but in the case of this disk, it can be understood to mean something more akin to “the good old days.” For Motty Steinmetz, it’s an opportunity to share his rich inheritance with his audience.

“This album has the songs that I grew up with — very old chassidishe songs,” he says, as his veteran producer Ruvi Bannet brings piping hot cups of coffee to the table. “Most of them come from Vizhnitz, a couple are from Slonim, and there are also songs from Lelov and Kossov. With some of them, there are several girsas, depending on where they’re brought down from. All of the songs are very old, traditional chassidishe niggunim. But for me, it’s in my blood. I know them, I grew up with them, but for the rest of the world, it’s a new album. A new album with a taste of the old.”

For anyone who’s davened in a chassidishe shtibel, some of the tunes — particularly “Magen Avos,” “Niggun Romani,” and “Yehei Ra’ava” — will probably be familiar. Others — notably the leibedig “Niggun Vizhnitz” — are sure to become new standards at tishen and Simchas Torah hakafos. All of them retain the haunting aura of yesteryear, set to Ruvi Bannet’s elaborate orchestrations. The songs are deftly ordered to mix slow-tempo pieces with upbeat melodies.

“We brought in this guy”—Motty tosses a smile to Bannet—“a very talented music writer and conductor, and we worked hard. We finally released the album three months ago, and I’m so happy about all the feedback I’m receiving.”

Motty says he learned these songs mainly from his father and both grandfathers — his family’s been in Vizhnitz for eight generations — but he also picked up a few from a five-year tour of duty in his teens as the hoiz bucher for the Lelov-Nikolsburger Rebbe of Jerusalem. When the Yeshuos Moshe ztz”l of Vizhnitz wasn’t well, his father made that arrangement to ensure his son would have ongoing exposure to a tzaddik, and Motty has a warm kesher with Lelov-Nikolsburg until today.

“Even now, I go there for Shabbos, to breathe in this old atmosphere,” he says. “It’s still like it was 200 years ago.”

But Vizhnitz is his true home, and the fount from which he draws inspiration for his art.

“This is where I grew up,” he says simply. “Vizhnitz has so much emotion in the songs. Not only in the songs, also in the davening — if you’re ever davened in Vizhnitz, you have the uniqueness of the nusach, and the flakker [blaze] and the geshmak, it’s something else.”

Motty points out that the chassidus traces its lineage to the legendary baal tefillah in the Baal Shem Tov’s heichal, Reb Yaakov Koppel Chassid, whose nusach was preserved by his descendants down through the generations to the Vizhnitz batei medrash of today.