Saturday, May 18, 2019

Kobi Marimi - Home



What a week! In case you haven't noticed, the Eurovision (pronounced over here as Eroh-veez-yon) is kind of a big deal for us. When my neighbor woke me up with her shouts of delight after Netta won last year my first thought was "Oh my gosh, we actually won!" my second thought was "Holy shit, we're going to host the Eurovision next year!". The path to hosting the event wasn't easy, to say the least, and just last week it wasn't even clear if the Eurovision will happen at all due to rockets falling in the south not too far from Tel Aviv. But we managed to pull it off and I'm very proud of Kan Broadcasting for producing top-notch semi-finals. Here are some of the highlights:
The show opened with Netta's 'origin story' followed by a bombastic version of Toy which kicked off the show in high spirits. I was surprised by how emotional I got seeing little Netta dare to dream of a brighter future. It was heartwarming to see how grateful Netta is of her new superstar status and how confident her stage presence has become. She'll perform again tonight and I can't wait to see what's in store. Dana International also gave a memorable performance with a sweet kiss cam that spread the powerful message of 'love is love'.
The highlight of the second semi-final was the band Shalva, comprised of young adults with various disabilities and immense talent. Shalva reached the semi-final of Rising Star, the show that chooses Israel's representative for the Eurovision, but quit due to the fact that performing on the final meant rehearsing on Shabbat. I'm so glad that they got to perform on the Eurovision stage and that the world got the chance to see this wonderful group.
I also really loved the postcards which highlighted the beauty and diversity of Israel and were directed by Keren Hochma, who directed the video for Toy and is also a former dancer and choreographer.

We don't really expect Kobi Marimi to win this year's contest. The national consensus is that he's a talented singer and a very sweet person, but the song isn't strong enough to take a high place. I personally love the song and I feel it contains a universal message that will speak to everyone who's gone through a journey, whether physical or emotional. Whatever the result, I'm proud that it will be representing us this year.
Without a doubt, the real winner of this year's Eurovision is the city of Tel Aviv. It's evident that the city has gone above and beyond to make the participants and fans of the Eurovision feel welcome. And it's also clear that we hope that everyone who chose to visit the city this week (not something taken for granted!) will share with their friends how awesome Tel Aviv is, despite it being way too expensive. There's been a really special atmosphere in the city and it's cute to see how the Eurovision village brought local Israelis and tourists together.
And yet, despite the contagious good vibes, I can't help but think of the last time Israel hosted the Eurovision in 1999. It was just after Ehud Barak won the elections and replaced Netanyahu as Prime Minister. From what I heard, there was a feeling of optimism in the air and Dana International sang "Free" in front of the Old City walls of Jerusalem. I can't imagine such a scenario today. Instead, we've retreated into a small, secular bubble trying our best to ignore the grim reality beyond Tel Aviv. All week I've been deleting news notifications from my phone alerting Netanyahu's attempts to go forward with the dreaded immunity law, not to mention the coalition talks which will give the Orthodox and right-wing parties much more power than they had before. The party atmosphere reminds me too much of June 2014, after the 3 Yeshiva boys were kidnapped and we knew a war was probably going to happen, so we did our best to enjoy ourselves while we could.

Caught up in this moment 'til my heartbeat stops
I've been running barefoot to the mountain tops
Nothing comes as easy as it goes
I can hug the water when it snows

I feel the sun upon my skin
And I am someone, I am someone
You pulled my heart, I took it in
It made me someone, I am someone
And now I'm done, I'm coming home

I used to listen to the way they talk
Counting down the minutes from the ticking clock

I feel the sun upon my skin
And I am someone, I am someone
You pulled my heart, I took it in
It made me someone, I am someone
And now I'm done, I'm coming

Home was so far, collecting scars, I refuse
Another touch won't be another bruise

I feel the sun upon my skin
And I am someone, I am someone
You pulled my heart, I took it in
It made me someone, I am someone

I am standing tall not giving in
'Cause I am someone, I am someone

And now I'm done, I'm coming
Now I'm done, I'm coming
Now I'm done, I'm coming home

Saturday, May 4, 2019

Yehuda Poliker - A Window to the Mediterrian Sea



A fitting song for these pensive days between Holocaust Memorial Day and Independence Day. Yehuda Poliker will light a torch at this year's Independence Day ceremony, chosen for his contribution to Israeli music and specifically for the 1988 album "Ashes and Dust", which gave voice to the children of Holocaust survivors. Ya'akov Gilad, who wrote the lyrics for this song, said in an interview in 2008 that the story in the song is fictional but it's based on stories that Jacko Poliker, Yehuda Poliker's father and a Holocaust survivor from Greece, and Halyna Birenbaum, Gilad's mother and a Holocaust survivor from Poland, who both survived Auschwitz, told him. Gilad wrote: "I mostly wondered where they found the courage to bring children into a world in which its most monstrous sides they had seen up close and experienced first hand. It's still a wonder to me because both Yehuda and I are sons of Holocaust survivors, we were both born five years after our parents were liberated from Auschwitz.
What went through their heads when they decided to bring children into this world, after that inferno, in the poverty of the early days of the country, when their whole world and everyone they loved remained in the piles of ashes? From conversations with my mother and Yehuda's father, we found that there was always some hope that kept them alive both in the death camps and in the years after the war. A hope that they didn't dare to give up on because this hope lies at the foundation of humanity wherever it is, and giving up on that hope means the victory of the devil.
From here the last line was born: And perhaps from afar, there's a chance of one in a million, and perhaps from afar, some happiness creeps into the window. Based on that tiny chance they came here, restored their lives from scratch, and gave birth to us. That's the whole story."

It's so quiet and peaceful outside but as I'm writing this I'm receiving notifications of another escalation in the South with over 100 rockets launched from Gaza. I can only hope that this flare-up won't get out of control.

I promised to write when I left
And I haven't written in a while
Now I miss you so much
It's a pity, a pity you aren't here with me.

After I arrived in Jaffa
Hopes were born out of despair
I found a room and a half
On the roof of an abandoned house.

There's a folding bed here
If the three of us will want to sleep
You, me, and the child
In front of a window looking to the Mediterranean Sea.

And perhaps from afar, there's a chance of one in a million
And perhaps from afar, some happiness creeps into the window.

December 1950
Outside there's a war of winds
The snow suddenly fell here
White reminds me of forgotten memories.

The wound is still open
If only you were with me now
I'd probably tell you
All that can't be said in a letter

Here if you want, you have a home
And you will have a lot of me
The laughter of children at dusk
In front of a window looking to the Mediterranian Sea.

And perhaps from afar, there's a chance of one in a million
And perhaps from afar, some happiness creeps into the window