Today we’d like to introduce you to David K. Israel
Hi David, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
I was born in Philadelphia, but grew up on the Jersey side of the bridge—in a small town known only by most folks (if known at all) as the place where the Betsy Ross Bridge lands when you’re leaving Philly. I didn’t really grow up in a musical family, or even an artistic one. My grandfather had come from Romania as a boy and went on to invent doohickeys for the beauty parlor business and owned a hair clip manufacturing company in Brooklyn. My father worked as a tire salesman and then later owned a building supply outfit in Philly. When I needed money, I’d work in his warehouse after school, packing delivery boxes, occasionally making deliveries with one of their trucks, that sort of thing. And yet, I somehow found myself wanting to pursue the arts—music at first, writing second—as a profession. Fortunately, I got two amazing breaks early on. The first was studying with Pat Martino, the Philly-based jazz artist, while I was still in high school. He had a huge influence on my development and direction, especially when I took a gap year before college to move to Long Island and co-write a duets LP with him. Though it never was released by his label, the experience was invaluable. As was the experience I had directly out of college, when I was hired by Leonard Bernstein’s estate to edit and publish definitive editions of his theater works, like West Side Story and On the Town. I learned so much as a composer, orchestrator and arranger during the five or so years I worked on his music. It was truly like getting paid to earn a PhD.
From there, I went on to write my own works for the theater—ballet and modern dance mostly. My very first commission was for Paul Taylor, a little piece for solo cello that we premiered in New Delhi, India. Everything about the experience was amazing: from watching such a legendary talent like Paul make the steps in the studio, to reading my first New York Times review, to seeing giant ads for the piece postered all around the NYC subway system. Paul and I collaborated again on The Word, which is still in the company’s repertoire today. I’m headed to New York City in November, as a matter of fact, to see them mount a revival at Lincoln Center with the Orchestra of St. Lukes playing the score in the pit. Though it’s an early work of mine, I’m still quite proud of the piece and especially love how Paul matched the energy of the music with incredibly difficult and acrobatic choreography through much of it.
From there I went on to work with many other choreographers and dance companies. But when a new opera I was writing about the founding of the state of Israel—a collaboration with producer Hal Prince and choreographer Twyla Tharp—went off the rails, I decided to take a break from telling stories through music and took time off to focus on words, my second love.
I wrote a few novels that were just plain awful before writing a little romantic comedy called Behind Everyman that Random House published in 2005. One of the highlights of that whole experience was when the book came out in Italian and I was brought over to Italy to do a little press tour for the novel. The book led to some more writing opportunities, like penning an ongoing humor column for The Los Angeles Times magazine. I also sold some TV pilots and feature film scripts, which sadly never made it to the big or small screen, but definitely helped pay the mortgage for many years.
These days, instead of focusing solely on music or writing, I’ve been dividing my time more evenly between the two. After 20 years, I’ve finally completed my second novel (!) which my agent will be taking out for sale in the coming weeks. And I’ve been busy fulfilling commissions for various dance companies, including the New York City Ballet, and collaborating with talented choreographers like Melissa Toogood, Janie Taylor, and Gianna Reisen. I’ve also started playing guitar again. One of my new pieces, currently being choreographed by Gianna, will premiere in October and I’ll be performing the score live, on stage with the dancers during Vildwerk’s inaugural season at El Museo del Barrio in New York City.
Closer to home, I’ve really enjoyed the challenge of producing a series of new music salons recently in various homes around the West Side. I call them Sunday Salons and the reception so far has been phenomenal. Each salon, or concert, features 5 or 6 up-and-coming composers or songwriters presenting 2 or 3 pieces or songs. The hosts love showing off their gorgeous homes in this unique way, filling their living rooms with live music for a small group of invite-only guests. It’s a wonderful way for me to give back to the community, meaning I don’t charge to produce the programs and the musicians don’t charge to perform their works. The guests don’t pay a penny, either. The whole thing is just done for the joy of it all, the community of it all, and the chance to do something (sadly) unusual in our increasingly isolated societies these days.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
I don’t think I could call myself an artist if it was all smooth sailing! The challenges and struggles have been IMMENSE! For every success, there are at least a dozen, if not more, failures. Some people look at my career and think I’ve been lucky, especially given some of the breaks that have gone my way. But that luck, or good fortune, has been earned with blood sweat and massive amounts of tears over breaks that did NOT go my way. From choreographers canceling premieres on me, and, in one case, asking for their commission money to be returned, to Hollywood studios tearing up contracts after months/years of work. From rejection after rejection from every book agent in NYC, to ghosting and unreturned emails from dance companies, conductors and musicians. From studios pulling the plug on projects quite far along after competing projects have been announced by more successful folks, to publishing companies pulling the plug on marketing budgets even after fantastic reviews.
I’ve been the victim of sexual harassment and sexual abuse in the workplace on numerous occasions. I recall being told in no uncertain terms by HR at one company I worked for where various kinds of verbal and psychological harassment went down, to “hold my nose and look the other way.”
The short list above has transpired over the course of a 35-year career. I’m incredibly proud of my accomplishments to-date, and maybe it’s the obstacles that have pushed me even harder to succeed. But sometimes you do take a step back and think: has the cost been too high? Maybe my family was right all along and I should have pursued something with more stability? Every time you create something new and launch it out into the world, you’re putting your head on the chopping block. It takes tremendous courage to get up each morning and go into the studio knowing whatever you’re creating might not be appreciated now, or ever. But that’s what we do as artists. As I always tell high school students wondering if they should pursue a creative field in college: It’s not actually a choice you make. You don’t choose music. Music chooses you.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
On the music side, I always wanted to work in the theater. As a composer, there are a few options: opera, dance, movies, musicals. Most “serious” composers who want to work in the theater choose opera because the composer rules the roost. They’re the star of the show. No one refers to La Bohème as Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa’s opera (they wrote the libretto, if you’re unfamiliar). It’s Puccini’s opera. On the other hand, rarely do you hear anyone describe Don Quixote as a ballet by Minkus (the composer). It’s always Petipa’s Don Q (as dancers endearingly call it). Or maybe Balanchine’s Don Q, if you’re talking about the more recent version. Most dancers don’t even know who wrote the music, from my experience. Despite all this, dance was always the more interesting art form to me and the one I chose to pursue. In the ‘90s, when I first started, I was considered an oddball and one of the few composers who exclusively wanted to work in the dance world. Today, so many composers see it as a great place to get their work heard. I’m not sure how much they care about dance or know the history of dance or have attended much dance. I think for many it’s just a great way to get a commission. So I’m still unusual in the sense that when it’s dance season in NYC, I’ll go to the Joyce one night, City Center the next night, Judson Church the following and the State Theater the night after that, all to see my favorite choreographers, companies and dancers. Most composers would rather see as many orchestral performances at Carnegie Hall or Avery Fisher, if given the choice. Again, this is only from my experience.
On the writing side of the equation: I guess I’m most proud of my ability to make readers laugh. Funny books are hard to find. I hope mine help fill that void, especially my new one, which feels like the summation of a life’s work. I’m so very very proud of this one!
Let’s talk about our city – what do you love? What do you not love?
The thing I love the most about LA is the beach. I live in the Palisades, with amazing ocean views from most of the rooms in my house. I love waking up early and drinking coffee out on the deck, listening to the waves hitting the shore as the sun comes up. I love walking my bernedoodle, Tune, each morning down on Will Rogers. I throw the ball for her and she’ll fetch it, even if it’s relatively far out in the ocean. She gets ridiculously sandy and salty, but after a shower back home, I reward her with a nice steak bone.
In terms of what I like least: traffic! Duh. But that’s another great thing about living in the Palisades: it’s like a little oasis within the city where you really don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. Of course the Dodgers will lure me out. As will a new dance piece down at Colburn. For those evenings, I usually drive east way before rush hour and find something else to do if possible, just so I don’t have to be in bumper-to-bumper.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.davidkisrael.me/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/davidkisrael
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@Davidkisrael27
Image Credits
Stephanie Dotson, Tigran Sargsyan, Samantha Zauscher Jack Israel, Kate Adler, Jack Israel, Stephanie Diani
