Contents: JL Reviews; CD Review; Letter to the Editor

IFS has videotaped many concerts over the years. Carol can no longer store them. If you wish to house them for IFS, please let Carol know otherwise they will be wiped.

Friday afternoon, 5pm, we fight our way into Nof Ginnosar, having struggled up over packed roads all the way from the Negev. The crowds appear enormous and there are tents on every available inch of space, including some of the paths — no matter, we booked our air-conditioned room back in November. At my age, folks, the closest I want to get to camping is breakfasting on a 5-star mirpeset!

We get set up and stake out our blanket on the main stage grass and have a rapturous reunion with about seventeen hundred and four of our best friends and fellow folkies. Now its time to get out our tsaidanit filled with the necessities of life at a folk festival — grilled chicken, salad, pickles and crisps (potato chips to all you Americans), bottles of beer, diet coke and iced water.

Good heavens, there are people SINGING and PLAYING on the stage! It’s not much after 7pm and we are not enduring a miserable 2+ hours of setting up and sound balance before the concert starts. Amazing! Incredible!!! It’s Ada & Diane & Friends, with songs from everywhere, even Ireland — and they’re good! They finish their eclectic and tuneful set in good time and on comes Evergreen. Again, setting up is no more agonizing than it need be, and we are up and away with foot-tappin’ music worthy of a band of genuine Irish leprechauns, despite all their weird Israeli names! Unfortunately, every bug in the Milky Way seems to enjoy the music as much as we do and they dance wildly in the stage lights, not to mention up the noses and into the eyes and mouths of the performers — as valiant a group of stoics as I can recall.

Now we have Rory McLeod, who seems out to prove that even though he does not have a thick Scottish brogue, as he hies from the Smoke, he can still be well nigh incompre- hensible. I am a true Brit myself, and have lived in London, but even I can only pick up about half of his genial patter. No matter, because can he ever play! Armed with harmonica, guitar, spoons, and what seem to be electronic boots, he displays true virtuosity coupled with an utter love of music and performing that sweeps one along, even when one is missing most of the lyrics. His whistling (without the aid of a whistle) will put most of the subsequent whistle- tootlers to shame!

By now, however, one of the most irritating aspects of the weekend has turned into an endemic plague. Large sections of the audience are incessantly ‘movin’ right along,’ beside us, in front of us, every which way. I tell no lie when I say there are literally no ten consecutive seconds without their share of wanderers obscuring our view of the stage. Not to mention the fact that a large percentage of the crowd is treating the music as background muzak, talking non-stop at the top of their voices (well it’s hard to make oneself heard over all those amplified tunes). I had expected the crowd to exhibit the well-known Anglo-Saxon courtesy, but alas, we now have another addition to the “you know you’ve been in Israel too long when...” list — You know you’ve been in Israel too long when you behave like an Israeli! Menachem and Yehudit are doing a great job (Kol Hakavod!) but perhaps certain pathways where folk don’t sit can be marked out on the grass, and the mass transit can at least be channeled — thought for next year.

And so to Irish Cream and Esev Bar. To some extent, they’re the groups we have driven 200+ kms to hear, and they do not disappoint. Esev Bar has added so much to Israeli and world musical culture, has re-invented the whole concept of ethno-fusion and taken it to new heights. They will be sorely missed, although I fully expect a new group to arise, phoenix-like from the ashes.

An old fart like me needs his sleep, so at 1:15am I try to go back to my room, only to be waylaid in the lobby by a jam session with Shay Tochner and various members of Evergreen and Irish Cream, to be joined by a couple of Israeli dancers demonstrating their Riverdance techniques —pretty good too and interesting to see up close. And when I do get to my bed, The Hammer Blues Band is still playing up a storm, so lights aren’t out till after 3am.

Saturday, strangely refreshed by 4 hours shut- eye, we have a delicious breakfast and hightail it to the Hermon Hall to catch the tail end of the open stage (some great performers) and be in time for Sunita. She is, in one word, sublime, proving that the Clairsach is a magical instrument in the right hands.

Then down to the Tsalmon Hall to try to squeeze in to hear Ray & Joanna Scudero. As usual, well worth the cramps in my legs from squatting on the floor. I rush to buy their new CD. We then hang around for Marc Miller & Friends (thumbs down, sorry, but as he says, you can be quite good if you actually rehearse, which he and his pals have not). Even to appear on the open stage without adequate preparation is unacceptable these days, not to mention in an official J.L slot). Charles Crosson, on the other hand, is new to me (shame on me) and a revelation — fine voice, expert playing, nice songs. I rush to buy his CD.

We break for lunch and hurry back to Tsalmon to book our seats for Duo Renaissance. What can one say about these two lovely and supreme professionals? Their mixture of bawdy tales — told with perfect timing and panache — and terrific singing and playing is entrancing and hilarious. Before they start, we’re charmed to catch most of Cyrelle’s world music set. She has a great singing voice and presence, never mind her square dance callin’.

Finally, we are back on the grass to share some more quality time with Rory McLeod, before packing up for the schlep back south. To our delight, the roads are less horrendous than we expect and we get home in one piece.

As I write, Charles and Ray and Joanna are filling the room, as they shall continue to do. And the sounds of Jacob’s Ladder shall resound, echo and reverberate — at least until next year. See ya!!

-- Amiel Schotz

Living in the Middle East conditions one to the 1sf-2sb syndrome. (One step forward – two steps back) And so it came to pass, that during the last 2 years, our cherished JL festival was blessed with glorious May weather that made the event ideal & greatly enjoyable. This year our luck ran out in the guise of an obscene chamsin. I won't go into the bitching & complaining part because there will be plenty who will do that. All I can say is that I saw Menachem and Yehudit (the organizers) on the first day and they looked like they had both been put through a wringer.

First and foremost I feel that the local folk community owe them mucho gratitudo for running the event, and I sincerely hope they made a bundle, since it looked like double the amount of audience than in years gone by. It's amazing how the predominance of young people & families made the place look like a Shantipi-type of happening. It had something for everyone, once one successfully fought through the black clouds of barchashim (flies) next to the Kinneret.

But once the music started, the magic filled the air. Unfortunately, the air was a bit too hot for some of us veteran folkies, so we were happy to find a cool alternative retreat in the hotel coffee shop where we could strum Friday night away to our hearts content. The remnants of Julio's Friends plus new recruit singer/guitarist Larry of Karkur with the lobby lizards lustily sang the Simon & Garfunkle songbook.

The star of the outdoor main stage, a guy named Rory McLeod who came all theway from England did some fancy stuff but didn't quite ignite the crowd, so it was back to the air- conditioned cafe where we jammed to 1am.

The next day I was at Hal Wrobel's open stage at 8am even before the sound guys and the 1^st act showed up, so we chewed the fat for a while, and as soon as the mike was up, Hal asked me to do some songs for the audience as they came trickling in. Among the audience was Yaron Ben Ami, a Mike's Place regular, and a blues powerhouse, so I put the banjo aside, got him on stage, and focused on the harmonica. The resulting blues were better than strong coffee and started the morning rocking. Too bad it wasn't recorded. The now pouring -in audience loved it too.

At the down-a-flight-of- stairs stage, Hachmoni started his set and it was enjoyable. He always reminds me of the California 60s scene and he did a very funny encore. Charles Crosson was terrific and Barry “the Pirate” Gilbert who bravely made the show after being on stage during the Mike's Place bombing was a showstopper. Meanwhile I kept on running up one flight to catch bits of Dana Halevy with Shay Tochner on guitar. Their set went on for at least an hour. I felt that I was watching a star being born as Dana had the standing room only audience (now about 300 people) in the palm of her hand.

Back down a floor below, Susan and I did our New Tyme Folk songs and I was

especially pleased with the audience response. It made all the rehearsing worth- while. I dedicated a Diane Ponzio song named Signposts (she's a New York songwriter & friend) to Judy Ziv who was luckily not physically injured at Mike's Place, and was understandably absent from JL. The place was packed and even my wife couldn't get in the door, so she gave it a pass. Besides, she heard the rehearsals.

Then Ray & Joanna brought the house down with their terrific, unfor- gettable set of original home-brewed songs. Finally, my day ended as it started with the blues. This time with the great Marc Miller and Dr. Blues Eli Marcus, but I was so saturated with music, I just needed to hit the road and find some hummus, as music had replaced sustenance during the last 24 hours. JL affects people in strange ways. I already can't wait until next year. It's the best thing that happens in this part of the world.

Even when it's not great, it's great.

--Harold Jacobs

June 1, 2003

While I’ve never written to FolkNotes before, I’m a regular subscriber; and although I missed this year’s Jacob’s Ladder (having been stranded "en route" in Europe due to airport strikes), I read the reviews in the May issue and felt the need to write.

I was frankly shocked by the reviews! I love “real” Irish music and am at least as Irish as many of the purists here (1/4!), but I like the Irish-Israeli syntheses, too. (I’m also wild about “authentic” Turkish music, but like the local adaptations, though not as well.) In any case, I can remember when the crying babies at JL were our own, (as were the smelling mangalim – what a pain they were! But who could afford concession food for a family of five?) I also recall a few venues where we had to step over (and occasionally ON) bodies and shush annoying talkers.

Now I’m thrilled that our kids (“natives”) of high school, army and post-army ages STILL want to come to JL (and bring friends!) And that my friends at work (natives) want to borrow my Irish music tapes, and that Sabra musicians have discovered the joy of Irish music and want to perform it.

Still, as my 18-year-old likes to say, “You don’t know about ‘Nam, you weren’t there.” I WASN’T at JL this year (the 18-year-old loved it by the way). Perhaps there DO need to be more alternate events on Friday night; I too would probably gravitate more toward the “authentic.” In the meantime, in spite of the various annoyances of each site, I continue to be amazed that Menachem and Yehudit pull this great event together every year, and hope that they can accept our gratitude together with our criticisms.

Sincerely,

Sara Gittelson

CD Review

What is it about Peter, Paul and Mary recordings that call up a distinct sound image? Perhaps it is the close harmonies and tight instrumentation, with that hint of echo. Perhaps it is an evenness of presentation regardless of emotional tone implied. So it is with the latest release of Joanna and Ray Scudero – there is this feel good, PP&M sort of sound to it.

About half of the songs have some reference to the sea, and the CD itself

is some smooth sailing to listen to. The first 4 songs flow one into the other with a gentle, non-wavy current. The harmonies are full on these songs, with multiple overlapping tracks carrying voices and strings, provided

by the 2 artists doing the songs as the writers (the same 2 artists) intended.

The title track, Poor Working Slob, breaks the first wave. It has a certain life to it causing one to wonder if this is a reworked live performance (there are even 2 coughs in the background adding to its authenticity). Its poetry begins with New York waking up to another new day with a finger on the pulse of the city as people from various walks of life head for their destined places. It has the rhythm of a good drinking song and crescendos to a delirious ending.

This splash is followed by a series of love and basic human needs kinds of

songs, which return us to the even keel, although with more individualistic

earmarks than the first set of four. Three of these 4 songs were written by

Joanna. There is something in her writing and presen- tation that recalls Green Linnet singer-songwriter, Carla Sciaky. Most of the songs have lovely harmonies between Joanna and Ray.

The wind picks up again with a lovely jig written by Ray and performed by him with full instrumentation. Makes you want to get up and dance on the deck. The Devil's Cell Phone is likewise done in an up and humorous tone.

The CD winds down to a very calm end with Ray singing solo Through the

Night, his wartime lullaby, accompanied by a single instrument so as not to wake the baby. It is very intimate.

Horizon Dawn is the penultimate song and it takes on a new life. This is one of Ray's "oldies but goodies" and usually gives the impression of struggle and overcoming. In this recording, the harmonies are different than usual, some words seem new, and the pace is slower and more

contemplative, like a reflection on the water. The line in the song, "as the years go by, the best of your life is the good you've done," stands out and I think this can be chalked up as a "very good" that Ray and Joanna have done. This CD is 58 minutes of very good listening. (For more

information, and to order, try www.oocities.org/ scuderosplace and

www.cdbaby.com 054-273-659, or joannak1@netvision.net.il).

--Judi Ganchrow

Condolences: to Don Ganchrow on the passing of his mother

(NIS 5 for members).

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