Apples, Smoke and Memory

 

In our quest to sample all the cultural riches Tel Aviv has to offer we spent a recent Friday afternoon with a gyrating mass of young people in the courtyard of the Suzanne Dellal Center listening to the Apples, a popular Israeli funk jazz band that has gotten a lot of attention in Europe and elsewhere. The Suzanne Dellal Center, home to the Batsheva Dance Company, is an important incubator for innovative dance, music, and theater in Israel. This event was part of a three week festival, “The Big Stage,” celebrating the center’s 20^th anniversary and Tel Aviv’s first 100 years.

The band-- sax, tenor sax, trumpet and trombone grouped at one side of the stage, upright bass and drums on the other side, and 2 DJ’s in neon green jumpsuits manning turntables in the center—jammed at high intensity for over two hours. For most of this time the audience was on its feet. We were not entirely confident that the temporary stadium style seating would hold up to several hundred people rhythmically swaying and stomping in unison but we came out unscathed, at least sort of. The bigger problem was the smoking. You would think that since we were outdoors this wouldn’t be much of a problem. You would be wrong. Sadly, the majority of these young people smoke like chimneys.  Many held a cigarette in one hand virtually the entire time (often while managing a bottle of beer in the other). A haze of smoke billowed above the crowd, occasionally swept away by a refreshing breeze. One young woman directly behind me noticed my discomfort and graciously moved a few feet away but most of the smokers were oblivious to the impact on others. Soon my throat burned and my chest felt constricted. I can only imagine how long I would survive in a club setting where one would usually here this music. In any case I’m sure that I’ve reduced my life span by a few months just by inhaling my neighbors’ smoke at the outdoor cafes and restaurants (no restrictions outside).

Luckily, our second visit to the Big Stage the following evening drew a different crowd who, thankfully, did not smoke. We saw an intense performance of  “Aide Memoire,” danced by the excellent Kibbutz Contemporary Dance company. This work, by choreographer Rami Be’eri, stems from his personal response to the memory of the Holocaust (his parents were survivors) and his hatred of war. The collage of movement, lighting, spoken text from Ecclesiastes, music and percussive sound was striking and intense.