the world of music 7 (2018) 1+2: 61–79 From Klezmer to Dabkah in Haifa and Weimar: Revisiting Disrupted Histories in the Key of D Abigail Wood Abstract During the summer of 2017, a musically and culturally diverse group of ifteen young musicians from Haifa, Israel, and ifteen from Weimar, Germany, came together for ten days in each city to form the “Caravan Orchestra,” a new ensemble that sought to reopen lost musical connections between cognate Jewish, Arabic, and European rep- ertories. Seeking to explore an “often-overlooked historical, transnational cultural matrix” rooted in the long arc of the Ottoman empire, the Caravan project proved to be a wider voyage of discovery, in which a large group of stakeholders from two countries—ethnomusicologists, musicians, students, funders and institutions—ex- plored what such a conversation might entail. Like many intensive musical projects, the Caravan Orchestra was a transformative experience for many of those involved, marked by the exhilaration of producing good music on a concert stage and validated by audience applause, dancing and ovations. Yet beyond aesthetic satisfaction, what kind of insights can such a project offer into the “disrupted musical histories” that it seeks to explore? In this article, I explore this question via three elements of the Cara- van experience: musicianship, repertory, and identities. Thirty young musicians stand on a stage, playing a raucous rendition of “Ashreinu,” a nigun (melody) of the late Hasidic Jewish leader, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, an encore after a two-hour, high-adrenalin concert. Rich sections of Western string and wind in- struments lank a central group of Middle Eastern melodic instruments—‘ud, buzuq, qanun and ney—with a strong supporting keyboard and percussion section behind them. Above the musicians, a large sign proclaims the name of the festival of which this concert is part—Yiddish Summer Weimar—and in front of them tens of audience members have spilled into the aisles, circling the hall in a Jewish wedding-style chain dance. The conductor motions for a percussion solo, then points to three musicians in the front row. A reedy sound pierces the air as ney player Khalil pulls out a mijwiz and begins to play Palestinian dabkah; riq player Rami moves to the front of the stage and leads an energetic rhythm. Clapping to the beat, the audience roars with appreciation as ‘ud player Tawiq raises his arms and begins to dance. A dramatic octave glissando on the mijwiz leads the orchestra back into “Ashreinu;” this time, the orchestra sings