How do you identify a dreamer? Should he have veiled eyes and be able to see beyond present reality? Has a dreamer any obligation to fulfill his visions, or should other, more realistic people carry on those dreams to implementation? But who says that a dreamer's vision cannot be realized? We may have the tendency to admit that visionaries and dreamers mostly appear in the field of social or political issues and changes, but there are quite a few whose dreams have changed things in our lives here, with regard to our way of seeing things, to get closer and fall in love with some expressions of art. I met last week with one of those dreamers who has changed the skyline of the arts and cultural life in Jerusalem, and he doesn't have even one of the conventional characteristics of the classical dreamer. Effie Benaya does not have eyes veiled in mystery, he does not speak with pathos – his voice is low and soft – and he makes a point of not disregarding facts on the ground, like which of his plans can or cannot be fulfilled (mostly from a practical financial aspect) when considering realities. In fact, one could identify him as the most realistic dreamer among us. Benaya is the founder, manager and artistic director of the Oud Festival of Jerusalem, which is running this week for the 17th consecutive year – one could say against all odds – with growing success among aficionados as well as professionals. Born to parents who immigrated to Israel from Egypt, young Effie was surrounded, as far back as he can remember, by the classical Oriental music of his native culture and country – the greatest composers and performers of the Egyptian music. Like so many others in the early years of the state, Benaya says he tried at first to hide this aspect of his own culture, but notes that he never really stepped away from it. Seventeen years ago, when he decided to launch the first Oud Festival, Jerusalemite concert-goers hardly knew a thing about the music this festival features. For the mainstream local public, Western classical music was on the top, while for others it was just some popular music for fun. As a result, nobody ever presented the Arab music culture that so many continued to love and to listen to on the Arabic channel of Israel Radio, or simply at home, via old records. “I was taught by my parents to have an open ear to these sounds, to love not only the great Egyptian music and its legendary performers, but also to all the sounds from the region – the Yemenite, the Kurdish, the Balkans, the Persian, the North African traditional music,” Benaya recounts. “I thought that this was the right thing to do: to give to these musical traditions a home, to open the Confederation House – with it's perfectly apt name – to this beautiful music,” he replies to the question as to where and how this festival was conceived and born. “The choice of the oud, this very special instrument, was also a message in itself. It is an instrument that crosses cultures and traditions, it has a very rich tradition shared by several countries and regions, from the East through the Mediterranean basin. It is so central, so important.” To the question as to whether it wasn't a little bold to run such a festival in those early years, Benaya first smiles, then says it was built slowly but surely. “I ran a few small concerts here at the Confederation House, presenting several classical Oriental traditions of music, and judging by the warm response of the public, it was clear we had something here. So I asked oud player and musicologist Taiseer Elias to plan a concert dedicated to the three greatest oriental singers – Oum Kalthoum, of course, and Layla Mourad and Fairuz – and the concert was sold out within a few days, three weeks before the date! And therefore I understood there was a real thirst for that culture.” Since then, the stepby- step process has been completed – Jerusalemites, and quite a lot of visitors from outside the city, have proven year after year, including during the toughest security situations and political tensions, that the love for this music and culture was totally independent from the surrounding atmosphere. The Oud Festival has also been the major promoter of musical events for which Arabs, Jews and Christians share the same praise, join efforts on stage, and share the seats of the same concert halls. Most of the Arab public comes from the Galilee, meaning they are Israeli citizens; yet even during the worst days of tension, many Palestinians, from the east side of the city or from the region, attended. However, things are not easy on the ground. Benaya spends time and effort each year bringing some of the top performers from the Arab world, and he admits that this is too often a source of frustration and grief. There are two reasons behind this. One is the artists' fear that by performing in Jerusalem under Israeli sovereignty, they are exposed to being boycotted and prevented from performing in the Arab world. “They all know the rules of this ugly game,” says Benaya. “A singer or a musician who comes here would be immediately prevented from performing in any Arab country, and how can I expect any of them to renounce not only their livelihood, but also their public?” But there is more. Few people know of it, but there is an annual cultural festival of a very high standard here in Jerusalem – the Jabus Festival in June – from which Israelis (more specifically, Jewish Israelis) are excluded. No one, of course, will check if you are Jewish at the entrance to a concert hall, but the organizers' boycott of Israel is such that they won't allow an Israeli journalist to cover the festival or even mention it. “Here again,” says Benaya, “they will require any performer invited to the Jabus Festival to sign [an assurance] that he or she will not perform in Israel, including of course our Festival of the Oud. So many great artists I meet in the festivals abroad, when choosing the program for the Oud Festival – they heard about it, they appreciate it, but they express their regret and say they can't come to us!” Benaya smiles sadly and acknowledges the tough reality, but says he nevertheless manages year after year to bring in some of the best performers available, from Turkey, Greece and Morocco, and of course, some of the best local artists – Arabs and Jews – as well. The Jubran Trio (three Israeli-Arab performers) is an example of this: From the moment they became very popular in the Arab world, they had to stop performing in Israel, according to the rules that require them to choose between Israel and the vast Arab world. An unavoidable additional aspect of such a festival is the financial side. Benaya says that while he has enjoyed the support of the Culture and Sport Ministry right from the beginning, as well as more public sources, he doesn't have an unlimited budget, and doesn't have the privilege of private, wealthy foundations backing him. But he adds that while being very cautious, he won't give up his dream of bringing the top classical Arab and Oriental music to the public, especially when the public's enthusiasm is so overwhelming. “We have seen, over the years, a larger public attending these concerts, opening their ears and being willing to listen and learn it. But basically, the hard-core members of the public – especially the public who comes religiously to the traditional concerts of top, legendary performers like Oum Kalthoum – you can see that those who attend are first and foremost those who have grown up on this music. “Those with traditions from home, Jews from Egypt and Iraq, they are the most faithful public.”
Greek composer and conductor Stavros Xarchakos(photo credit: GIANNIS GLIKAS)