How Jewish Music Is Creating Space for Unity and Prayer in Israel: A Conversation with the Zamru Ensemble
In this conversation on The Genesis, Rabbi Josh sits down with musicians Amitai Man and Talia Erdal to explore how Zamru emerged, why Israelis are searching for new spiritual language, and how music became a vessel for healing after October 7.
Q&A with the Zamru Ensemble
Q: What exactly is Zamru?
Amitai Man:
Zamru began at the Fuchsberg Center in Jerusalem as a fellowship program for musicians and prayer leaders around five or six years ago. It started small, but it grew into something much bigger.
Today, Zamru is really a network of Israeli musicians and spiritual leaders. We have weekly prayer circles, retreats, ecstatic gatherings, festivals, alumni programs, and now also a touring ensemble.
The heart of it is creating spaces where people can gather through music and prayer in a very open and participatory way.
Q: What makes Zamru different from a traditional concert or synagogue service?
Talia Erdal:
The project started because people were searching for new ways to express Jewish prayer.
There are many people in Israel who feel disconnected from traditional religious frameworks, but they’re still hungry for spirituality and connection. Zamru creates a laboratory where people can experiment with sacred song, ritual, movement, and listening.
As an ensemble, we use Jewish liturgy and tradition, but we approach it through a very open musical space.
Q: Did either of you grow up religious?
Amitai Man:
I grew up in an Orthodox Mizrahi family in Jerusalem. My grandfather grew up in Mea Shearim. I was raised inside synagogue life and only encountered non-Orthodox Judaism much later.
Talia Erdal:
I had almost the opposite story. I grew up completely secular, but I was always drawn to spirituality and religion. At 18, I became Orthodox and lived that way for around nine years.
Eventually I realized I needed something broader — a space where spirituality, music, vulnerability, and personal identity could all exist together.
Q: It sounds like Zamru exists somewhere between the secular and religious worlds in Israel.
Talia Erdal:
Exactly. In Israel there’s often a painful divide between religious and secular communities. Many secular Israelis feel disconnected from Jewish tradition, while many religious Israelis feel trapped inside frameworks that are too narrow.
Both groups are searching for another way to be Jewish.
For me personally, as a gay person, it was very meaningful to find prayer spaces where I could be fully myself. I realized I wasn’t only looking for tradition — I was looking for spirituality and ecstasy within prayer.
Q: Did October 7 change the role Zamru plays in Israeli society?
Amitai Man:
Absolutely.
Before October 7, Israel already felt extremely divided politically and socially. Then the trauma of the war arrived, and suddenly people desperately needed spaces to come together.
I remember one of our first gatherings after the attacks. Jerusalem was filled with displaced families from the north and from the Gaza envelope. During the prayer circle, some young Haredi men from Netivot came in and joined us.
At one point, one of them broke down crying in the middle of the gathering and shared openly with complete strangers. It felt like all the walls between people temporarily disappeared.
That showed me how necessary these spaces are.
Q: Why does music have the power to do that?
Talia Erdal:
Music moves things inside people in ways that other formats don’t.
In classical music, which is my professional background, there’s often distance between performers and the audience. You play your part, bow, and go home.
But in a sacred song circle, everyone is together at the same level. People can sing, dance, cry, meditate, or simply listen. There’s no barrier between performer and audience.
As musicians, we’re listening not only to each other, but to the entire room.
Q: Amitai, you described music almost as a form of prayer itself.
Amitai Man:
Yes. The clarinet is basically an empty cylinder. All you do is place your breath — your neshama, your soul — inside it.
You practice for years trying to find your sound, and that search becomes a kind of prayer.
For me, music is not about standing in the spotlight. Often in these circles, I’m simply facilitating a space. I’m helping create an environment where people can enter emotionally and spiritually.
That itself feels sacred.
Q: What do you hope people experience when they encounter Zamru?
Talia Erdal:
Very simply: togetherness.
I hope people experience vulnerability, connection, and prayer.
Especially after October 7 and during periods of war, people spend so much time trying to function, survive, and stay strong. These gatherings remind us that we are still human beings capable of feeling deeply together.
Creating safe spaces for that is essential.