Some Kind of Wonder-full…

The Songteller

September 17, 2009 at 11:17 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
Tags: Lyrics, Magic, Music, Spirituality

Last week, I was priviledged to witness the Israeli songteller, Shahaf Ifhar, play on his flying visit to London. The gig took place in Whitechapel, upstairs of The White Hart: an intimate and wholly unpretentious venue.

We arrived to the sounds of screams and loud yells that were painful to the ears and to the emotions. It is, perhaps, a good thing I don’t remember the name of this guy and his guitar, for I – and practically everyone else there – was waiting with baited breath for him to finish. Why was it so awful? Well, it was too loud, but this often happens to performers. I could forgive him that. My observation was that he was drawing all the energy into himself: it was entirely self-centred. As I said to my friend, he could well have been practising in his bedroom – an angry teenager – there was so little connection with crowd. At last, it finished – like the end of an outrageous storm. We felt tearful and relieved . . .

. . . and then there was Shahaf. How different, like balm for a tormented soul. The humility, the deep loving kindness; it felt like a pouring out of self, generously, for all the world to see. How he touched the piano, lovingly. And sang to the crowd, so tenderly. Sharing so much emotion, and the deep hurts. Such beautiful vulnerability.

And wordy interludes, poetic and philosophical. What an honour to be so attended to! He played two covers, “Streets of London” and “Man in the Mirror”, absorbing in their originality. And then, his own art.

There are many poets. There are many storytellers. And there are many musicians. But Shahaf is all three and all quality. His lyric express all my own insecurites in a way I could never verbalise:

“But don’t kiss me now,
There’s too many windows,
Someone might see inside of me.” (Too many windows)

“He says he doesn’t mind the fur that’s covering my body,
Only it makes it hard for skin to touch.” (In my blood)

That feeling of longing for intimacy, but running away whenever anyone gets too near. I’m reminded of a scene from a film. It showed two shoes moving towards and then away from each other; the left shoe edged toward the right one, but the right one pulled away. Eventually they met, but after how much manouvering! I guess the line is, “close enough for warmth, far enough from burning.” But how do we get there..! It sometimes feels easier to dream, than live things out in all their messiness, huh?!

The other line I love comes from the beautiful song, “The rose”:

“And I don’t believe in God,
But I once saw a flock of geese,
that could carry me,
could’ve carried me away.” (The rose)

What sentiments. God can become so conceptualised to lose all meaning, but a flock of geese: that is Magic. A Divine footprint traced along the seashore…

Shahaf, thank you for a beautiful evening: your spirit shone through.

Shalom. Shalom. Shalom.