A few moments before the show, when the Jerusalem Theater auditorium was nearly full, a young man called out to an older woman: "Grandma, I'm here!" In another row, a young woman helped her grandmother to her seat.
They weren't the only ones. The homage to singer Nazem al-Ghazali drew at least three generations of Israelis, most of them of Iraqi descent. And when the evening's musical director, Yair Dalal, noted that although al-Ghazali had died almost 50 years ago, his songs remain etched in the memories of Iraqi Jews, many grandparents in the audience nodded in agreement.
Al-Ghazali, who died at 42 in 1963, was one of the great Iraqi vocalists of the mid-20th century. Although he's not as well-known as his counterparts in Egypt and Lebanon, the festival organizers deserve credit for aiming the footlights at him and his work.
Prof. Yossi Yonah translated some of the songs and spoke in between sets, but unfortunately, his amusing anecdotes and esoteric theories did not exactly bring al-Ghazali and his milieu to life. Indeed, the Oud Festival is probably not the best place to declare a great Iraqi singer "the Pavarotti of the Arab world."
But these are trivial matters. In fact, who cares what anyone says when the music is fantastic? Dalal gathered a group of fabulous musicians, some of whom - the older ones - come from al-Ghazali's world: violinist Elias Zubeida, qanun player Victor Ida, oud player Said Ajami and Albert Elias, who even played in al-Ghazali's orchestra. Their playing, energetic and rich in nuance, was best characterized as "straight and to the point," without a tad of sentimentality.
Zubeida's violin solos were focused and short but worth their weight in gold. So were oud player Ajami's black-and-white trills. The younger players (Dalal and three percussionists - Herzl Sagi, Erez Munk and Avi Agababa ) took on the old guards' aesthetics and perfectly complemented the ensemble.
Three singers attempted to fill al-Ghazali's shoes. Dalal Salam, the oldest, impressed with his theatricality (al-Ghazali was an actor before he became a singer ), though sometimes his singing lacked force.
Yossi Baghdadi sang precisely and powerfully; what he lacked, at least part of the time, was presence. Just one singer, Haim Ankri, the only Moroccan on a stage filled with Iraqis, was able to blend the power of his voice with depth of expression. It was a pity that he only spent 20 minutes on stage, at the opening and the finale.
A guest vocalist, Dudu Tasa, managed to inject a western breeze into the Arab ambience. The jazz chords he produced on the electric guitar, however, did not exactly suit the atmosphere (the old guard sat silently during these moments, their silence saying it all ). Still, Tasa's singing was sensitive, very musical and expressive.
"On Top of the Palm Trees," one of al-Ghazali's big hits (and also the song played most often during the festival, as Dalal pointed out ) was the perfect end to two excellent hours. A second performance will be held on November 27 at the Nazareth Center for the Arts.
Dana Berger celebrates a decade
Ivri Lider did it in 2007 with "Caressing and Lying," Aviv Geffen did it in 2009 with "Hollowed," and last week it was Dana Berger's turn to celebrate the 10th anniversary of her key album, "To the Edge."
Some would argue that 10 years is not a long enough time to wax nostalgic, but who cares? "To the Edge" was the high point of Berger's career, and her audience has every right to mark this milestone.
Still, if the point is to celebrate this anniversary in a big way, then the show should be smashing. And this one was not. A lot of thought was put into it and it looked good, providing two enjoyable hours, thanks mostly to Berger's loyal fans. But it was not splendiferous.
"To the Edge," a surprising but well-deserved hit 10 years ago, relied on beautiful songs and precise sound, intelligent pop music with a touch of electronics. The sound at the concert, by contrast, was disappointing. If the intent was to add a refreshing twist to the album, it didn't work. If it was to reconstruct the original sound, that didn't work either.
The unappealing sound of mainstream Israeli concerts was what was heard on the stage at the Reading 3 club. It probably wasn't the musician's fault or the producer's. It seemed like technical problems were to blame for the flat sound.
Berger herself was having a rather good day, though she didn't burn up the stage. The guests, however, did not deliver. Berger decided to go with girl power as her theme and hosted Vered Klepter, who wrote many of her hits, Karolina and Efrat Gosh (and a brief appearance by a member of the opposite sex, Itay Perl ).
But the power of women did not make sparks fly, especially not during Karolina's set. Probably some other male partners (the likes of Yermi Kaplan, for example ) might have supplied the tension, interest and energy that blows an audience away.
The best moments of the show were some quiet songs ("Quiet" and an acoustic version of "To the Edge" for the encore ). Berger's new song "What You Said" was a hit, but the high point was definitely a fabulous rendition of "Gan Meir."
For Berger's loyal fans, who never stopped applauding and sang all the words, the entire show was one continuous high, and the singer was visibly moved by the love lavished upon her. "I'm taking you home with me, and I'm taking you with me to the recording studio," she said.
But for me, someone who is not a big fan, it was a lukewarm night.
