I had no expectations heading into Thursday night’s sold-out Hanan Ben Ari concert in Jerusalem.
Besides having heard and enjoyed a couple of songs by him (one about nothing being important besides soccer and another a beautiful ballad – “Yesh Kan Yoter Mizeh” – about there being more to life than meets the eye), and a buzz that his shows are an “event” sparked by his spiritual connection with his fans, I was a clean slate going in.
The first eye-opener was the audience, as diverse as I’ve ever seen at a “rock” show – the usual hip concert-goers in their 20s and 30s mingling with dati leumi fans of all ages, no shortage of hilltop youth types, grandparents, and small children.
The next surprise was, after nearly an hour delay in the starting time, Ben Ari emerged with the house lights fully up, did a lap around the whole arena, shaking hands, making eye contact with fans in the balconies, and receiving the adoration from the crowd.
I’ve been to a few shows in my years, but have never seen a victory lap before the show started. It turned out that it wasn’t bravado on his part, just confidence that he was going to deliver what the audience came for. And he did, in spades.
Fronting an energetic, tight seven-piece rock & roll band featuring Yaakov Asraf, a hassidic lead guitarist who would make Slash sit up and take notice, Ben Ari immediately took control of the arena and performed as if he was in everyone’s living room.
Ben Ari as the great unifier
Spirited rockers, heartfelt ballads (some featuring Ben Ari’s piano skills on a stage set up in the back of the arena), and moments of post-October 7 inspirational verbal interludes all integrated together in the big picture of Ben Ari as the great unifier.
One attendee compared the show to a cross between a Bruce Springsteen concert and a Jewish spiritual revival tent. Singing along with every song, the crowd could be going wild at one minute, joining the raucous E Street-style band in dancing up a storm with fervent glee, and then go so quiet the next minute that you could hear a pin drop.
Like the Boss, Ben Ari held them rapt in his monologues (which seemed off the cuff but were probably well rehearsed) about the country, the heroes of October 7, and the overriding takeaway that “It ain’t so sin to be glad you’re alive.”
It was no small accomplishment after the 16 months the country and the fans in attendance have endured. That joie de vivre carried over to the show’s end, when after the last song, Ben Ari and the band in a line bow, broke spontaneously into an a capella version of the joyous “Mishenichnas Adar.”
After a couple of minutes of celebration like that, which followed nearly two hours of music and hope (but, regretfully, no “Yesh Kan Yoter Mizeh”), nobody even complained about the lack of an encore. Instead, they filed out of Pais Arena with smiles on their faces.