Julia Blum - Song of Her Soul

Julia Blum

Song of Her Soul

By Tammy mark

n the low-lit room, mothers

Iand daughters gathered with anticipation, gazing at the stage as the spotlight hit just perfectly. Julia Blum would soon share her music, her story, and her words of inspiration in a performance that would resonate with women of all ages.

Julia is a singer, songwriter, actress and musician who studied at Harvard and Yale. She is also a baalat teshuva who discovered her path to observant Judaism on a visit to Israel, during a short but powerful and fateful trip that rerouted her career and her life.

In a recent presentation interwoven with music and song, Blum wittily tells her story with tears in her eyes at Congregation Aish Kodesh in Woodmere, New York, sharing the journey of her idyllic childhood in Los Angeles to her present-day reemergence on the Jewish music scene. She explains how her talent and enthusiasm for performing arts were apparent at an early age and how she trained with the best in the field, at the best schools, flourishing at Ivy League schools, earning top grades, and learning and performing alongside equally talented peers and envisioning her life’s trajectory to be set.

Raised in a culturally Jewish home, Blum always felt strongly Jewish in her heart but didn’t have much knowledge about Judaism itself. She had philosophical questions like: “What does it mean to be Jewish?” and “What happens after you die?” She was determined to one day learn more. After graduating cum laude with distinction from Yale in 1988, Blum decided to take some time to travel, making big plans to see Greece, Italy, France, and Israel. When she later wanted to cut the trip short, her parents encouraged her to get to Israel before returning home; she made it there and decided to stay a few weeks.

It was a Friday at the Western Wall where Blum encountered Jeff Seidel, a kiruv facilitator known for gathering young tourists to join families for traditional Shabbos meals. He invited Blum for Friday night dinner, and she took the opportunity.

It was a big group of strangers in a small apartment, and the hosts were a warm and welcoming family with lots of young children. To Blum, the experience felt like a quaint, old-world scene out of Fiddler on the Roof – that is, until she discovered that her hostess had attended Yale, too. To her amazement, the dinner conversation centered on the very same questions about Judaism and life Blum had pondered on her own.

Blum was intrigued and eager to learn more about Judaism. She was recommended to go to Neve Yerushalayim to study, and she remained there for 2½ months.

Blum was awestruck by how brilliant, humble, and thoughtful her teachers were. The experience was a complete game-changer for her, vastly different than her experience at Yale or anywhere else.

Blum recalls her time at Yale with favor, a time when that was the only world she knew. She focused on music composition and studied theater and film.

“I loved being at Yale,” she says. “I

felt like I was consistently surrounded by really bright, engaging, creative people. It was like a brain playground and a place that trained me to think critically.

“I didn’t know better, so I thought Yale was the totality of inspiration. I met multiple people there who didn’t seem to have a moral compass and just behaved as though being brilliant was enough and was all that there was. They really just valued the intellect. They didn’t know how to synthesize being a good person with being a smart person. Only after being at Neve did I see what it was to use your brain in synthesis with your heart and to use those two in the service of something bigger than yourself.”

She notes, “If there’s no moral compass, then if you’re the professor, you’re the decider.”

Blum recalls a particular ethics professor who was not known as a good person. “He could teach ethics because it was just a subject; it was a brain exercise, and nobody really cared – and that’s antithetical to a Torah life. I didn’t realize it at the time.”

At Neve, Blum thought about how she had felt like just one replaceable person at Yale but felt like a whole unique world at her yeshiva. She soon realized that she wanted to do something big and important – something more significant than being on a TV show that everyone would inevitably forget.

Blum had to figure out how to bring this new world home. Keeping Shabbos would mean skipping auditions and theater; she loved to move and accomplish, but she loved the holy day of rest. Kosher seemed manageable…. She thought about tzinius and how she would navigate the path of modesty. Blum knew it would be hard, and she realized how much of her life was about her appearance: not only how she looked but also how people told her she looked.

As an actress, Blum was expected to be super skinny and absolutely expected to be pretty – but would then find herself up for role of the “not pretty” friend. She recalls the times young actresses would have to parade around in bathing suits during auditions, only to be faced with rejection just moments after. In the entertainment world, she was just a body, an appearance. At Neve, she was taught a different mindset – she knew she was not just a body but a soul.

When Blum returned home to LA, she had a tough transition. Every step along the way was a decision to be made.

“I didn’t know how to lead a Torah observant life,” she says. “I had had the inspiration from Neve but not all the nuts and bolts and the logistics. I didn’t know how to keep kosher; I didn’t know what to do for Shabbos. I was making things up and I was making it harder for myself. I didn’t know where to buy clothes… I didn’t know what to do.”

Blum is the oldest of four girls, and

fortunately, her family was always closeknit and supportive.

“One of the many incredible things about my family is that they value family to such a degree that, the ethos of the family is that when somebody in the family is doing something, you support it. That’s just what you do. So as soon as I said I was going to be religiously observant, one sister decided to do a report for college on Orthodox women, my siblings would call and wish me Shabbat shalom, and my parents made a special area in the kitchen for me and for my stuff and nobody was supposed to touch it…”

Though undeniably grateful for her parents’ support, Blum needed more experience.

“Eventually, I realized that I needed to be going to people’s houses, so I would bring my parents flowers every Shabbos, instead of me being there. It was very amicable,” she recalls.

“The only part that was hard for my parents, other than seeing me go through a rough emotional transition because change is always hard, was I had told them that I wasn’t going to be doing music anymore,” Blum adds.

Blum had been set up for success in her field and was deeply passionate about it. She had taken piano and ballet lessons from an early age. She began acting and singing professionally at age 12, appearing in commercials and studying under

“When you’re an outsider and you choose an observant life, you are a powerful spokesperson.”

a noted voice coach. She was a regular fixture in her Beverly Hills High School productions and was cast in the Yale graduate school performances, despite being an undergraduate student.

“I didn’t see how I was going to integrate being observant and singing,” she says. “At that time, the landscape that you see now with female singers didn’t

exist. When I started singing songs that I wrote, it was a little more on the unusual side. So before that, when I looked around at what it meant to be observant and be a singer, there weren’t really many outlets or opportunities. I just assumed that it meant that it was going to be my test to see how much I wanted to live an observant life – if I could give up this aspect of myself that was so precious and that had been a part of me for so long.”

Teaching music lessons didn’t feel meaningful enough.

“That was not going to be a career aspiration after studying music at Yale and Harvard,” Blum says. “I wasn’t going to say that’s where I’m going to be channeling my passion and my training. So I just assumed it meant that I couldn’t do it anymore and that was very painful for my parents. They were never excited about the acting part – because they saw how destructive it was for young people – but the music part, which had been so important to me growing up and to my family as a very musical family, they really believed it was a gift that was meant to be used.”

She notes, “I didn’t have a career anymore. I didn’t have a life path anymore. I was struggling. I wasn’t going to give up, but I was really struggling. It took me time to find the frum community.”

Blum’s contacts at Neve helped her find people to connect with in the States, and eventually, after about six months at home, Blum traveled to New York City to learn at the Jewish Renaissance Center under Rebbetzin Leah Kohn. It was there that Blum first met Rav Moshe Weinberger and was inspired by his teachings. She became close to him and to Rabbi Binyomin Cherney and their families, spending many Shabbosim with them in the Jewish community of Far Rockaway and the Five Towns.

At first, they didn’t know about her professional background and were helping guide her in her newly

observant life. When Blum opened up to her teachers at JRC about her background, she found everyone to be very supportive. She was encouraged to share her talents, to speak and sing at schools, to tell her story and share her music. Rav Weinberger and Rabbi Cherney were teaching at Ezra Academy in Queens at the time and brought Blum there. Once word got out about her professional training, and the fact that she was a young woman recently out of college, many people in the frum community realized she could be a resource to help inspire other young people.

“One of the things I hadn’t anticipated was, when you’re an outsider and you choose an observant life, you are a powerful spokesperson,” she expresses. “People recognize that you have a powerful voice because the things that a frum girl may be secretly thinking of or dreaming of that seem so exciting are some things that I’ve seen. I know the very ugly underbelly of that world that people don’t think about or realize or experience. So if I can let them know how beautiful their life is by showing them how hard I have to work – to not even get to where they are, but I’m still going to try to work hard to get somewhere – it has the potential to encourage people to be grateful for what they have.”

By 1990, Blum had released her first album, Stand Tall. Her second album, Songs of the Heart, came in 1998, and through those years Blum toured throughout the United States, Canada and overseas, performing for female audiences at Jewish schools and camps.

Blum credits those who supported her during those early days at a time when there was not much on the female artist landscape. Several people in the Orthodox community, notably educators Mrs. Esther Wein and Mrs. Chumie Meisels, felt compelled to give people access to her story and songs and had her performing at Jewish schools, camps and for a myriad of organizations over a 10-year period.

“I would take the red-eye flight, get off the plane and be doing three concerts a day sometimes for 10 days straight – aside from Shabbos – at schools and organizations, for hundreds to thousands of people,” Blum reveals.

She recalls huge concert events at Brooklyn College with other prominent Jewish female performers. The landscape was growing, and her career was flourishing, yet Blum put it all on pause

when it became too challenging to leave home and leave her young, growing family back in California.

Now, as her youngest child is 17, Blum is excited to resume her singing career. Rav Weinberger had been encouraging Blum to perform again, and Rebbetzin Myrna Weinberger invited her to perform at Aish Kodesh for the recent mother-daughter night out.

The women and girls in attendance that evening hung on Blum’s every word as if totally new, yet most were familiar with her songs. The youngest audience members sat mesmerized at her performance. Blum is grateful to realize the songs she writes have staying power. She is grateful for the time before social media and before the vast range of Jewish music available today, when people would purchase the full CDs, helping enable her songs to be passed to the next generation.

“I’m surprised when anyone knows any of my songs,” admits Blum nonetheless.

“I do believe, across the board in the world of creativity, that the more vulnerable and genuine a person is in a song or whatever it is that they’re writing, the more it connects to people,” she says. “And that can transcend generations – that isn’t limited to age or geography or what someone’s background is, because

everyone struggles. When a person really talks about the inner pain and journey of her struggle, people can feel what that is, because they know what that is. If someone is in second grade and struggles to make friends, that’s no less painful than anything that I’m going through. So as long as I can remain purely sincere and genuine, then I’m hoping that the songs will still be able to resonate with people.”

While many performers will admit to having a level of nervousness on stage, Blum relates to a different experience.

“I’m not nervous,” she states. “What I do feel is tremendous pressure any time I sing because people are spending time and money and energy, and they have a vision in mind of what they want the people listening to gain. There’s a reason why people bring me to perform. I always ask, ‘What are you hoping people are going to gain?’ and then I have to just daven my heart out that Hashem will enable me to do that. It just has to be a miracle from Shamayim that everything works out.”

Things do go wrong at times, technologically or otherwise, but Blum explains that, as a trained professional, one has to manage when something goes wrong. Being trained in so many disciplines very rigorously taught her how to make each performance appear to go smoothly and to make it feel comfortable to the audience, even if it isn’t; similar to athletes who train intensely and yet make it look easy. Acting classes trained her to be able to tell her story in a very genuine way each time she tells it.

“I have been taught that if you receive a gift, then you’re obligated to use it.”

As Blum inspires so many others, she takes inspiration from those around her.

“So many people inspire me – people who are devoted to the Jewish people, people who see a need and try to fill that need. From from teachers to rabbeim, I’m pretty consistently impressed by the Jewish people!”

Asked where she finds inspiration in the Torah, Blum says, “I suppose, for every baalas teshuva, the story of Avraham Avinu resonates deeply; discovering that Hashem exists. I, myself, hadn’t really thought about it before. It wasn’t a part of my thinking and that idea of something so obvious not being a part of my life, and suddenly realizing that it’s there and that it always had been there – that Hashem had been there the whole time, and the joy and responsibility of that discovery, and seeing how Avraham Avinu worked incessantly to share that discovery with people.” She clarifies, “In terms of the greatness of who Avraham was, I don’t relate to that aspect – my

Julia, when she was younger Julia, in Israel

life is obviously much smaller and not impactful in that way – but in my little, micro, tiny, small world, I’m inspired by him and all of our Avos and Imahos.”

Blum’s children presently range from 17-30 – all with different personalities, but many are musical.

“I didn’t have any preconception of what my children were going to be like and felt like my job was just to guide them into being their own person.” She shares, “I spend a tremendous amount of time davening to help figure out my role as a parent – whoever this person is and whatever their journey is supposed to be – how can I help, what am I supposed to do and how can I continue to grow so that I can be the best suited to help them on their journey?

“I’m really constantly working on myself,” she adds. “I have so far to go, so many areas in which I need to improve. Certainly being a wife and mother is my greatest challenge and opportunity to grow, and I’m extremely grateful that I get to do that.”

Blum is also grateful that her husband is very supportive of her work.

During her childrearing years, Blum found herself tutoring and teaching. Her mother is a teacher, and Blum’s strong academic background helped teaching come naturally to her – and she covered a range of topics everything from hashkafa to music to math. Blum was often asked by students about her time in Hollywood. She was initially taken aback that yeshiva girls w h o had the access to Jewish wisdom that she didn’t have wanted this information on celebrities and other “small information” when they had access to Hashem and His Torah. She understands that curiosity and yet makes it a point to not discuss any “famous” friends.

Blum’s songs are based on her life’s experiences, and the messages are woven into the lyrics and melodies, with various instruments that become part of the story as well. They are rich and theatrical, in English with occasional Hebrew verses, including selections from Tehillim. She tries to convey uplifting messages on universal themes, hoping to especially reach the younger generation.

Blum’s “Princess Song” was written for her students to understand that they are daughters of Hashem. “Diamond” speaks about how everyone has struggles, and, like diamonds in the rough, they have infinite value. “Longing for the Longing” talks about wanting to be your best self, even when you feel disconnected from G-d. “Dream Big Dreams” is a song inspired by a lecture by Rabbi Yissocher Frand. Blum offers her advice for creative children through her song “Dancing in her Room.”

Blum believes that young people who have the talent and inclination to create or perform should be encouraged on their individual path in the right way.

“I understand that it could be a challenge because people with creative tendencies often are also sensitive, and they might be sensitive to criticism or rejection. It’s a gift, it’s a genuine gift. I have been taught that if you receive a gift, then you’re obligated to use it. You don’t necessarily need to use it publicly, but you’re obligated to use it in some way.”

“I would encourage those who love creative people to encourage them – if you’re the parent or sibling or friend or teacher, like so many people did for me, like my parents did for me. There’s a reason I started to study music when I was three – my parents said that when I was little it was obvious that I was so musical…but I believe it was more of a reflection of the encouragement and the space given to me,” Blum says. “So I think it is important for people around the creative person and the person themselves to be able to create outlets, take lessons, create opportunities.”

She adds, “When you were brought into this world, Hashem gave you certain tools, and that creativity is one of those tools, so you have to find a way to use it – you have to. It doesn’t mean it’s going to be where you earn your livelihood, but if that’s a part of you, then I don’t see how a person can function without utilizing or channeling it in some way. It could be just for themselves, that they play piano just for themselves and that’s their enjoyment or it could be that they play for tens of thousands of people.

“The most important thing for me is that the people listening will gain something; I have a responsibility to try to deliver that experience, so that is pressure. I have a very strong drive to be of service for Klal Yisrael; it’s almost an overwhelming drive. Thank G-d, I have people guiding me as to how can I best utilize that desire and whatever else I’ve been given and channel it properly to be able to do something of minimal use for Klal Yisrael.”