Singer Naftali Kempeh: "I Never Believed It Would Unfold This Way, Even Today I Find It Hard to Believe"

In the music industry, it's often said some singers explode onto the scene overnight, arriving seemingly from nowhere, and instantly finding themselves center stage. Zero to a hundred in three seconds. Conversely, there are those who don't make their mark all at once, but rather through countless hours, efforts, days, and nights.

Such is Naftali Kempeh, 30, married and a father, residing in Jerusalem. Currently, he is releasing his second album 'Ana Elech', containing several tracks that have already become hits on radio stations and in yeshiva halls over the past few months. Kempeh started in yeshiva kumzitz gatherings and small events and has recently been gaining increasing exposure and impressive professional acclaim.

"I've always loved music," Kempeh confesses at the beginning of our meeting, which takes place on a typical wintery Jerusalem afternoon in Ramat Eshkol. "But until a late age, I didn't think I'd be a creative artist, and truthfully, I didn't know how to play an instrument. When I was twenty, I was studying at 'Kol Torah' Yeshiva in Beit Vagan, across from us was 'Be'er HaTorah' Yeshiva where a friend of mine who played guitar studied.

"At that time, I was somewhat lost, my head wasn't entirely in the regular yeshiva study, and the guitar came to me just at the right time. There's a saying that Hashem sends everything with perfect timing. I took a song booklet from a friend and just started playing. I initially gravitated towards Carlebach because his songs are relatively simple, and after learning a few songs, I started playing for friends.

"Slowly, word of mouth, people heard that I sing and play, and began inviting me to play at kumzitz gatherings, which are akin to yeshiva get-togethers. Everything started very small, and at the beginning of the journey, I never believed it would unfold this way, and even today, I find it hard to believe."

The Yeshiva Leader Who Saved Me

"I was born in Tifrach," he recounts, "in fact, a settlement in the Negev known for its strict Lithuanian stances. The folks there are so-called 'Chazon Ishniks', followers of the Chazon Ish. My parents are of German descent – 'Yekkes', and values of order and responsibility were very strong in our home. Along with that, the highest value we were raised on was – Torah, Torah, and more Torah. Our home was built on uncompromising education. For example, in the world of music, there were traditional Hasidic singers we didn't listen to at home, as they were considered too modern by my parents."

How did you feel as a child and teenager growing up in such a closed-minded and practical world?

"It was definitely not simple many times, but I have to credit my parents; the greatest lesson I learned from them is honesty and truth. They are the most honest and genuine people I know. When parents project honesty and truth, and it seeps into you, everything else becomes much less significant. Therefore, I am very happy with the education I received, and I love the Lithuanian community very much, and naturally, I am part of it. Of course, my wish is that my songs touch people from all sectors, but I feel that the community most connected to me is the Lithuanian one."

One of the most influential events in Kempeh's life, according to him, was the premature passing of his mother. "My mother was ill for twenty years, and her health was a roller coaster," he shares. "She suffered from cirrhosis and eventually passed away between my engagement and wedding. Her death deeply affected me. When I was 13, I began learning at 'Tiferet Zion' Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, and even then my mother was very sick. We are six siblings; I am the youngest, and by the time I celebrated my bar mitzvah, everyone else was married. Practically, from the age of ten, I spent many nights sleeping at the neighbors'."

How did this affect your studies at the yeshiva and your life in general?

"My mother's illness certainly complicated life. Because of this, but due to other reasons as well, it was hard for me at yeshiva. Eventually, in my second year at yeshiva, I was expelled. They told me I didn't fit. I was very frustrated during that time, searching for myself, and I returned home. After a few days, one of our neighbors came and told me about a yeshiva in Jerusalem with a very unique yeshiva head. He said there was little chance I'd be accepted, but it was worth trying nonetheless."

"I traveled to the interview in Jerusalem, thinking there wouldn't be a chance, but b"H it all worked out. The yeshiva head, Rabbi Shmuel Raver, had the big smile of a kind grandfather, and he may not know it – but he made a significant impact on my life. He was the first genuinely happy person I met, and that captivated me."

"Additionally, there was a significant simplicity in him. He asked if I prepared a particular topic for the interview, and I answered no. He then requested that I share something I learned at yeshiva, and I said I hadn't. He continued asking questions, and after a few minutes, I left. I couldn't believe there was a chance I'd get in, but that same day my father informed me that I was accepted. Because of the love and warmth of the rabbi, I returned to study with joy, and those were two wonderful years there."

How did things look when you entered the larger yeshiva?

"That was complex as well. When I was searching for a yeshiva, it was clear I was looking for a setting that would give me space. Breadth. Capacity for inclusion. One evening I entered 'Kol Torah' Yeshiva, and something there illuminated my path. There was emotional and physical space there. But even there, naturally, there were ups and downs. In general, I studied there from age 16 to 22, although there were periods when I studied in other yeshivas. During those years, there were periods when I was searching for myself a bit, partly because learning was difficult for me. Additionally, I wasn't even thinking about matchmaking then because I wasn't ready for it."

"As I've already said," Kempeh continues, "around the age of 20, I began playing, and from there things just flowed. I saw that I loved it and that it was my way to impact. To shine. I saw that the Almighty was guiding me on this path. Very quickly, I started to get invited to perform at small events, Sheva Brachot — things like that, but I still had no clue where all of it was heading."

"Today, after two albums and a decade of performances and creation, I can't point to one single turning point in this aspect. There were several choices I made, but I have no natural explanation for this process. It just happened. Hashem literally moved me from point to point. And still, every day, I see it — Hashem leads me according to His plan."

Engaging in the Creative Process

According to Kempeh, the quality and quantity of performances he was invited to grew. Meanwhile, he moved to study at Mir Yeshiva. "Eli Klein and Itzi Berry, two very prominent producers in Hasidic music, studied with me at the yeshiva," he notes. "Itzi was a year ahead of me, and Eli was in my class. Itzi married relatively early, and Eli and I rented an apartment in Beit Yisrael. At that time, I received many invitations to perform at Lithuanian yeshivas, to do simple kumzitz gatherings, but I had resistance to these things because often the sound was problematic, so I always insisted that the sound would be of the highest quality possible."

"In those years, I 'plowed through’ the Lithuanian community," says Kempeh. "Because I come from there, I knew what to say, what to sing, and what stories to tell. There is an enormous demand in Lithuanian yeshivas for such performances, which is a significant change. It used to not be like this. Besides, the main point in my opinion is that once Jewish Hasidic music was essentially composing verses that spoke about joy or sadness, but they almost never sang about the personal place of an individual. They didn't talk about the simple things, the day-to-day events."

"Suddenly, after many years, you hear a lot of songs, like those by Ishay Ribo which have made a strong entry into the Haredi community, where they sing about 'my heart'. Songs that don’t just talk about Hashem but about where I am in relation to Hashem. Thank God, I hope I am part of this important change. In my songs, I chose words that speak not necessarily about extremes but about life itself."

I believe that is what also drove you to release the album.

"Indeed, that was the case. We toured the small stages, and at some point, I felt that the Haredi public is open to accepting personal songs, and I told myself it was worth specializing in this and releasing an album. At that stage, I felt that either I progressed toward releasing an album, or I continued to stagnate. Eli, Itzi, and I started working on the album, and I put my soul into it. Today, it seems inconceivable to me how much I invested, but that's how it was."

"Thank God, the album was very successful, and it was essentially the culmination of eight years of work and creation. By the way, the media personality Yedidia Meir played a vital role in the release of the first album. Yedidia heard one of my songs, invited me for coffee, and told me I should release an album. This was about two years ago. Since then, the songs have made a strong impression in yeshivas, and I had an amazing year with many performances."

"What especially delights me is that I see my songs gradually reaching other audiences too. It's not happening all at once, but I am actually satisfied with that. I strongly believe in a genuine and gradual process. That's why I don't go for especially intense advertising. I didn't become a general Hasidic music singer from a kumzitz singer overnight. It was a process that is still ongoing, at exactly the pace that Hashem intends for it."

"Ultimately," Kempeh concludes, "my deepest desire is for people to believe in me, to connect with what I genuinely create and do. I feel I have a mission, which is for people to take my songs to their service of Hashem. I want my songs to help people connect with Hashem and themselves. Concurrently, I wish for myself that with Hashem's help, I will always be engaged in the creative process itself, not in the surrounding noise."