What would you say if I told you I've seen Janis Joplin reincarnated in the form of a 29-year-old Israeli man? You'd probably say I was crazy. I'd say you haven't seen Asaf Avidan.
To watch Avidan perform is to experience a sensory disconnect, eyes clearly contradicting the perception of the ears. Standing on stage is a skinny, mohawked man. Blasting from the speakers is the voice of a craggy, whiskey-soaked woman. It's a disconnect that takes a little while to get past—the sort of disbelief you don't often encounter in a concert. At first it's unsettling; then, transfixing.
One night after playing a tribute to The Who at Carnegie Hall, Avidan found himself inside the beautiful City Winery, backed by cellist Hadas Kleinman rather than his usual electric band, The Mojos. "Hadas is going to fill in for everybody else," said Avidan. "We're gonna start improvising and shit. We're gonna enjoy ourselves."
The band was hardly missed, as Kleinman's exquisite cello playing wove itself perfectly into the fabric of Avidan's music. He returned the favor by allowing her cello part to move the songs along rather than relegating it to a background role—stark double stops, rock and roll glissandos, and stunning fourth position solos made Kleinman's cello a worthy companion to Avidan's performance. The two performers had an uncanny chemistry, matching intention and execution intuitively and fluidly. It was a pleasure to watch.
For an acoustic performance, the set had some teeth: songs frequently featured grittily extended vocal notes, rasps, and evocative lyrics. Watching Avidan, you got the feeling that he really believed what he was singing. He would hesitate mid-song, pausing as if attempting to convince the next verse to burst forth on stage; it was tension and release at its most cathartic. Nowhere was this more clear than on standout "Over You Blues," the penultimate song of the evening. "My baby, she's just a little puppy," Avidan repeated forlornly, stretching out the syllables before continuing, "but she's acting like a full grown bitch." It's a humorous turn of phrase, but in Avidan's hands it was doubly strong – not just a line for a laugh but an honest recollection.
I came into Avidan's set with no expectations, having never heard his music before the concert. But even if I had expected a great show, I would have been blown away. The captivating emotion conveyed by Avidan's voice recalls iconic singers—the raw power of Joplin, the smoky twang of Loretta Lynn, the genial approachability of Johnny Cash. The set was equal parts blues, rock and roll, and hoedown, with a flavor all its own. It's no wonder Avidan has made waves in Israel.
At one point during the performance, Avidan stopped to recount a story from the Bible. He explained how King David's moral lapses caused him to lose the favor of God, leaving him always feeling cold. David, said Avidan, was forced to sleep with prostitutes to keep warm. "It's an emotional thing that the Bible describes physically," he concluded, "and I think that's really beautiful." On Wednesday night at City Winery, Asaf Avidan and Hadas Kleinman did exactly that—transformed the emotional into the physical—and it was beautiful indeed.
