This little beleaguered country has one of the most diverse populations around, with some 40 languages spoken by folk from all sorts of ethnic and cultural backdrops. That, in certain circumstances, can lead to communication snafus aplenty.
But there is at least one field of human endeavor that can help us to wriggle our way through potential PC-related and other logistical minefields and find common ground we can share – pardon the pun – in harmony.
Many moons ago, 19th-century American poet and academic Henry Wadsworth Longfellow expressed the learned opinion that “music is the universal language of mankind.” And, while not all of us may appreciate, say, contemporary jazz or Mongolian overtone singing or rap, it is a fair bet that people who use different languages in their everyday lives and possibly chow down on very different dishes will find themselves attending the same concert.
Music's power to bring us all closer together
Lior Elmaleh certainly believes in the power of music to bring us all closer together. That is a strong undercurrent of the payetan’s forthcoming show at the vast and prestigious Caesarea Amphitheater venue on September 21 (8:30 p.m.), when he fronts Rock & Piyut – A Slihot Concert.
The 51-year-old payetan – liturgical singer – has put together an impressive roster of artists for the occasion, culling top performers from the piyut domain alongside musicians better known for frequently pumping out decibels by the bucketload in the rock sector of the music industry.
That takes in the likes of veteran rock band Knesiyat Hasechel, singer-songwriters Amir Dadon and Micha Shitrit, long-standing Mediterranean-leaning rock outfit Teapacks, multidisciplinary artist Aviv Alush, and seasoned bassist-vocalist Eran Tzur.
The gig repertoire includes a fusion of ancient piyutim such as “Adon Haslihot” and “Sha’ar Patah Dodi,” as well as popular rock and pop numbers like “Ro’im Rahok Ro’im Shakuf,” made famous by Shmulik Kraus, and Shitrit’s hit “Ba’aviv.”
ELMALEH IS fully cognizant of the fact that most people struggle to find a snug interface between centuries-old Mizrahi synagogue melodies and earnestly supplicatory songs the likes of “Ani Ma’amin” (I Believe) from Knesiyat Hasechel’s 1993 album Devarim Belahash (Whispered Matters) or thunderous 2018 rock number “Hachi Karov Elayich” (The Closest to You) by Alush and singer-songwriter Elai Botner.
Over the years, Elmaleh has worked with a wide range of artists from different genres, including Shitrit, rapper Subliminal and late feted songwriter Ehud Manor. He has also managed a turn or two with offshore acts, such as Algerian rai singer Cheb Khaled and compatriot multi-genre vocalist Rachid Taha.
Then again, musical styles are often approached both from objective and subjective angles. “There doesn’t seem to be any musical connection between the two genres,” he admits. “But when I was a kid, I had this inner passion. There was a rocker deep down inside me,” he chuckles. “I think that when it comes to expression, emotion, and the importance of the text, in some way I think there are meeting points between them [piyut and rock].”
There is a philosophical kindred spirit in there, too. “Throughout its history, rock music has been seen as pertaining to revolutions and social shaping. The changes have always come more from the direction of rock music rather than from pop or other genres.”
Therein, Elmaleh suggests, lies the rub of the spiritual confluence. “I think the payetanim of old, who wrote lyrics, including very abrasive and deep social texts, as well as secular and sacred texts, including gripes to God – they often piled up all their complaints to the Creator of the world and demanded he fix things – they were so expressive. They expressed themselves in ways which didn’t always suit the mainstream of the day.”
That grittiness and fearlessness appealed to the young Elmaleh as he was starting to find his way in the world in his hometown of Kiryat Shmona. “Somehow, for me, that always fused with rock music and the artists who come from that direction.”
Considering that rock music is a direct offspring of the blues, that stands to reason. The social comment side and dissent element all come together neatly for Elmaleh.
Do rock and liturgical music really make for such comfortable bedfellows?
“Absolutely,” comes the quick-fire response. “There is certainly no textual problem there. And in terms of the music, I constantly work on the instrumental side of rock music – electric guitars and that sort of thing – and how that blends with acoustic instruments and the ethnic, Arab instruments.”
Apparently it works well. “There is always this synthesis. The rock music holds the song together, in the arranging of the score. [Keyboardist Eran] Mitelman does a great job with that. The rhythm section of the rock musicians bring the color of rock. All the lines that come from the world of the piyut are normally played by the ethnic music players, and then, at certain junctures, they play alongside the electric guitars. There is this constant synthesis going on.”
Elmaleh can, indeed, fall back on a sumptuous timeline of highly successful instrumental hybrid ventures. The voluminous orchestras that backed Arabic music the likes of Egypti an diva Umm Kulthum, compatriot Jewish songstress Leila Mourad, and now 89-year-old Lebanese singer Fairuz all performed and recorded with ensembles that incorporated traditional ethnic instruments alongside patently Western instruments such as cellos, double basses, violins, piano, and even electric guitars.
There is still, however, the matter of how you go about your handiwork. “They played these Western instruments differently, particularly fretless string instruments like cello and violin, playing quarter tones.” The latter are fundamental to Arabic music and not found in Western compositions.
Elmaleh got into liturgical music at a young age, attending dead-of-night synagogue chanting sessions from the age of 12.
“I started getting up early, with my teachers and everyone else, to join them in bakashot [aka piyut] songs. That became the body of songs I perfected. By the age of 15 I already knew all the bakashot songs – there are over 600 of them – which only acclaimed payetanim over the age of 60 knew,” he proudly notes. “I was the youngest kid who knew all those songs. I was allowed to lead the singing [in the synagogue] from such a young age.”
That also offered the youngster the invaluable experience of mixing it with the older folk, including his own grandparents, many of whom came from places like Morocco, Syria, and Algeria, whence many of the piyutim originated. That drew him even further into the cultural milieu. “I didn’t speak Arabic at home, but I gradually picked it up from the things the older people said to each other.” And it wasn’t all God-fearing stuff. “I listened to their stories and jokes, and also the swear words they used,” Elmaleh laughs.
The budding musician made great strides, and seven years ago he landed the Education Minister’s Prize in the Jewish Music category, alongside famed pop-rock singer Evyatar Banai.
“That was a great honor,” he recalls. And, no doubt, a well-deserved one, too.
Elmaleh also bucks the stereotypical trend and doesn’t quite fit the image of the fervently religious payetan, quite a few of whom are also ordained rabbis.
“I come from a more traditional, rather than a religious, home,” he says. “I always found myself at a bridge point, in my personal life and also in music. I went to a secular school. My wife, Naomi Tov, is secular. She’s an opera singer.”
Elmaleh clearly straddles diverse musical fields with ease, and feels that anyone can enjoy the emotive sounds of his main avenue of sonic pursuit. “I am always trying to see how I can make piyutim accessible and inviting to people who don’t normally listen to them. I don’t relate to piyut as something religious. Piyut is music.” As such, he sees no problem with bringing more people into the liturgical fold. “I can go to a concert with an amazing Indian musician without understanding a word of what he says or sings, but I can connect with his music. That is how I approach music in general.”
With the stellar rock team he has lined up for his Caesarea date, more untrained ears and hearts may very well be drawn to piyut and the centuries-old traditional synagogue-based form of singing.
For tickets and more information: leaan.co.il