Shabbat B'Har/B'chukkotay - 20th May, 2006
.........I want to end by illustrating what I mean by being
open both to history and to the inexpressible presence of God. Just a couple of
weeks ago, I was lucky enough to be in Israel staying at the Arab-Jewish
village, Neve Shalom - Wahat-Al-Salaam near the Latrun Monastery.
One evening, we were treated to a concert by a group of young
Palestinian and Jewish musicians, members of the Arab-Jewish Youth Orchestra.
There were the usual classical western instruments, violin, cello, flute and so
on. But there were instruments representing the eastern tradition of music,
such as the oud which brought a different timbre and colour into the orchestra.
The young Arab conductor led us through a number of
unfamiliar modern pieces and then introduced us to a Chopin Prelude which he
had arranged himself. Not only would we hear the prelude played by the variety
of instruments, we were told in the introduction to this piece, but half
through, the players fall silent, while one by one the different
instrumentalists would improvise. I felt my purist, western, musical hackles
rise and my prejudices leap to the fore. What on earth was this orchestra going
to do this Prelude? How can I describe what took place during that
piece?
It began gently, meditatively and yes, differently as the
instruments found a way of interpreting the music. And then, as explained, the
music fell silent and out of the silence emerged the soft, plaintive voice of
the oud, and then the violin, and then a flute - and we were in a context that
was no longer the refined nineteenth century French world of the composer, but
of two peoples longing to express their voices, yearning to be heard by the
others in the orchestra, and creating a fusion of east and west, of Arab and
Jewish.