Eviatar Banai sings through sorrow in new album, created after Oct. 7
In ‘Anchor in the Water,’ singer-songwriter performs covers of beloved songs of his own youth, finding ways to tilt toward the good
Jessica Steinberg, The Times of Israel's culture and lifestyles editor, covers the Sabra scene from south to north and back to the center
Israeli singer-songwriter Eviatar Banai was scheduled to record an album of new songs on October 8.
But a day before he was set to enter the studio, as Hamas terrorists rampaged through Israel’s south, killing or abducting everyone they found, he canceled his plans.
Instead, on the following Thursday, Banai recorded himself on Facebook Live from his living room, singing covers of his favorite Israeli songs, as part of an emerging Israeli movement to add life, courage, comfort, volunteerism and a sense of unity — and then he did that for nine more weeks.
The result of that effort is Banai’s new album, “Anchor in the Water,” released on December 25, which he’s now performing all over Israel, in intimate, sold-out performances.
On Wednesday night, Banai, with just a piano and his guitar onstage, was at Kibbutz Givat Brenner’s auditorium.
Echoing the structure of the album, in between some of the songs Banai addressed the audience, which was made up of a mix of ages, and more than a few off-duty army reservists, guns slung over their shoulders.
https://www.facebook.com/EviatarBanai/videos/393537736360203/
The secular audience considered Banai — scion of a large, branching family of musicians and entertainers including his late brother Meir and sister comic Orna — one of their own, though he became religious some 20 years ago, like his similarly famous cousin Ehud.
In recent years, while giving voice to his rich religious life through music, Banai has also found ways to reincorporate the realistic, angst-ridden songs of his secular youth as well.
With his big black kippah placed firmly embedded in graying hair, he’s become one of the few voices in Israel able to relate to different sides of society.
The Givat Brenner audience awaited their 90 minutes of solace from Banai, quiet and reverent, attuned to every nuance.
When a voice announced that everybody could stay in their seats in case of a siren as the theater is a safe space, they clapped gleefully, then sang along softly to most of Banai’s soulful, heartfelt performance, as he grinned down at them, as happy to see his audience as they were to see him.
He spoke a lot, as he does in the album and in his Facebook Live performances, talking about his performances for soldiers, getting stuck in bomb shelters in the north, sitting with injured troops in hospitals.
He told a story about the first-century scholar Rabbi Akiva, and sang songs written by his brother Meir, another formative Israeli voice who died at age 55 in 2017.
He sang the songs that make sense right now, including Ehud Banai’s “Don’t be afraid, you’re not alone,” and Erez Lev Ari’s “What will I do with all this anger.”
There was Shalom Hanoch’s classic “It’s just longing,” and Arkadi Duchin’s “I was tired of feeling deep sorrow,” as well as Eti Ankri’s “A simple song for me, like the sea, like the tree, like the stone.”
Banai wrote on Facebook that these songs give him context, place and belonging, so sorely needed right now.
Toward the end of the show, Banai spoke about paying a Shiva call to the family of Guy Iluz, a young soundman who worked with musicians Matti Caspi, Shalom Hanoch and others, and who was shot by Hamas terrorists at the Supernova desert rave on October 7, taken hostage and then died in Gaza.
He then sang Asaf Amdursky’s “Star,” the last song found on Iluz’s Spotify playlist.
“You’re the only star in the sky,” sang Banai, his guitar soaring in a seeming attempt to reach beyond the skies and connect to Iluz, his grieving family and everyone else sitting in front of him.
It was just as Banai wrote on Facebook, in his introduction of “Anchor in the Water” — that he wants to bind and reconcile himself with the songs of his youth, and more than that, to remember how one can grow out of a disaster, how one should tilt life toward the good, the consolation and the melody.
Thanks for showing us the way, Eviatar.
