Saturday 29 August 2015

Reigns in Spain – Mainly All the Same!

 

“Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,

....” (Hamlet, Act 1 Scene 2 – Shakespeare)

Yesterday, I posted  an item showing how the events at the Rototom Sunsplash Festival in Spain involving Matisyahu, the ex-Chassid rapper, bore an uncanny resemblance to historic anti-Jewish riots in the same area.

Below is my own take on the affair.

Spanish.Inquisition

It Was Just Spain Again

Matis, the lapsed converso rapper

who’s cast his kosher colours off,

shaved his beard, bleached his hair,

yet dared to face a baying anti-Jewish

mob by praising Zion.

what was, was; what will be, will be –

lo que fue, ha sido y lo que será, será

“Funny,” he said, as Spain’s new

inquisitors sneered, jeered, offering

a thousand exquisite ways of dying.

 

“The fervour here’s so hot,

I’m frying in the déjà vu glow

of a classic way of burning.

 

“The shades of Isabella and her

spouse still walk the walk in

modern Spain –

it’s plain for all to see!”

 

what was, was; what will be, will always be –

you gotta learn lessons from history -

lo que fue, ha sido y lo que será, será

 

“Spain’s past is no strange land; things

still look the same as in Barcelona

six hundred years away – and more –

when Jews like me were among four

hundred souls butchered in cold blood.

“Just as now, when the few with

power strived to quell unrest,

the antique city fathers tried in

vain to save their Jewish

neighbours.

 

what was, was; what will be, will be –

lo que fue, ha sido y lo que será, será

 

“This year Rototom Sunsplash

flung love and peace around

one-quarter-million people,

including sixteen thousand kids

young enough to sit upon my knee.

 

“Still, there’s been no spare

kindness left for me and still

most adults care more for

spraying pain, knifing notes

of discord than spreading

comfort by strumming

happy notes of harmony

in the sun.

what was, was; what will be, will be –

lo que fue, ha sido y lo que será, será

 

“I am Jewish, not Israeli.

Yet those who hate put me on trial;

forced my public view on Zion and

Israel’s battles with her foes.

Know Torquemada yet

lives! Please also know I just

want grace, goodwill for all.

“Let my music ring a pure note

to embrace each of those who seek

its shelter. True artists want only

this. No more”.

what was, was; what will be, will be –

lo que fue, ha sido y lo que será, será

© Natalie Wood (29 August 2015)

Friday 28 August 2015

‘Matis’ Affair Proves Jews Still Tried for Their Beliefs

MatisyahuOn Sunday of this past week  Matisyahu, the US Jewish rap artist performed at the Rototom Sunsplash Festival in Benicassim, Spain amid heckling and jeering by pro-Palestinians in the  audience.  Earlier,  he had been barred from performing – then re-invited – because of the international storm caused by pressure from Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions activists for him - an ex-Chassid - to publicly back a Palestinian state.

What many fans do not realise is the enormous political and historical irony in this story as in August 1391 almost to the date of this year’s Sunsplash,  400 Jewish citizens of Barcelona were were massacred by rioting anti-Jewish mobs.

Indeed, the events of last week were a near echo of what happened 624 years ago when the local authorities tried to protect the Jewish community against the attacks which had been instigated mostly by Castilians who had previously taken part in pogroms in Seville and Valencia.

Meanwhile, as this year’s festival attracted 250,000 people from 73 countries, including 16,000 youngsters aged under 12 years, two facts are now clear:

  • The BDS movement is not just anti-Israel. It is quite nakedly antisemitic.
  • Its failure at  Benicassim is a severe dent in its campaign to persuade the next generation of music lovers to join its cause.

 

 

Matis, who went on to defy his enemies by singing his song Jerusalem at Sunsplash, also  issued this statement:

"The festival organisers contacted me because they were getting pressure from the BDS movement. They wanted me to write a letter, or make a video, stating my positions on Zionism and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict to pacify the BDS people. I support peace and compassion for all people. My music speaks for itself, and I do not insert politics into my music. Music has the power to transcend the intellect, ideas, and politics, and it can unite people in the process. The festival kept insisting that I clarify my personal views; which felt like clear pressure to agree with the BDS political agenda. Honestly it was appalling and offensive, that as the one publicly Jewish-American artist scheduled for the festival they were trying to coerce me into political statements. Were any of the other artists scheduled to perform asked to make political statements in order to perform? No artist deserves to be put in such a situation simply to perform his or her art. Regardless of race, creed, country, cultural background, etc, my goal is to play music for all people. As musicians that is what we seek. – Blessed love, Matis".

I conclude with the lyrics from Jerusalem*:

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do

In the ancient days, we will return with no delay
Picking up the bounty and the spoils on our way
We’ve been traveling from state to state
And them don’t understand what they say

Three thousand years with no place to be
And they want me to give up my milk and honey
Don’t you see its not about the land or the sea
Not the country but the dwelling of his majesty

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do

Rebuild the temple and the crown of glory
Years gone by, about sixty
Burn in the oven in this century
And the gas tried to choke but it couldn’t choke me

I will not lie down, I will not fall asleep
And they come overseas, yes they’re trying to be free
Erase the demons out of our memory
Change your name and your identity

Afraid of the past and our dark history
Why is everybody always chasing we
Cut off the roots of your family tree
Don't you see that's not the way to be

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do

Caught up in these ways and the worlds gone crazy
Don’t you know its just a phase, case of the Simon says
If I forget the truth then my words wont penetrate
Babylon burning in the place, can’t see through dark haze

Chop down all of them dirty ways
That’s the price that you pay for selling lies to the youth
No way, not okay, oh no way, not okay, hey
Ain't no one gonna break my stride, ain't no one gonna pull me down
Oh no, I got to keep on moving, stay alive

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do, Jerusalem

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do

Jerusalem, if I forget you
Fire not gonna come from me tongue
Jerusalem, if I forget you
Let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do

* Jerusalem is track #8 on the album Youth and was co-written by Ivan Corraliza, Jimmy Douglass, Matthew Wilder, Gregory Prestopino and Matthew Miller.

© Natalie Wood (28 August 2015)

Saturday 22 August 2015

At the Art Café, Tzfat

At the Art Café, Tzfat

Last night I ate inside
a painting. 









The north light had long since
fled, fearful of the glare from
Klezmer’s flashy riot.



But the deft strokes of
the sinking sun inked in the
infant lights of the rising moon,
so spreading a silken sheen across  
stack on stack of blueberry hills,
whose sweet and  dainty tops when
viewed in fine relief offered a
glimpse of Heaven.













Fabulous – or not – arched cascades
of strident colour with their brazen music
twirled triumphant torrents in mid-air.

Their dance seemed somehow magic.
But in the bid to win a race to I knew
not where, they hurtled heedless,
 headlong back to earth and on
exploding lost their unworldly fire.













The scent of mint and lemon fading,
it was time to go. Now the canvas 
shrivelled and in one furtive backward 
glance became a furled, forlorn thing, 
kicked to shreds by gluttonous crowds.

© Natalie Wood (22 August 2015)