Israel is turning into a leper colony:
Depressed impresarios
By Zipi Shohat
Last May, promoter and producer Rafi Ben Yaakov flew to Britain to
meet with the cast of the play "Deathtrap." Ben Yaakov was wary of a
possible cancellation, and was interested in ensuring their arrival
in Israel. "I sat all night with the star of the show, David Soul,
who once co-starred in the TV series `Starsky and Hutch' and who has
warm feelings for Israel," he relates. "I also met with the other
cast members. All of them unanimously decided that they were coming."
But two weeks before the play was set to open in Israel, the troupe
announced that the show would not, after all, go on.
In the past two years, ever since the outbreak of the second
intifada, a virtual blockade has been set up between the cultural
world of the West and Israel. Performers and ensembles are canceling
performances here, and even more are not even booking dates. The
situation is so bad that the impresario business, which had
specialized in bringing international acts to Israel, is on the brink
of collapse.
"In the past two years, impresarios and producers have been in an
extremely dire situation, and some are on the verge of bankruptcy,"
says Shmuel Tzemah, president of the Association of Producers and
Impresarios. "Many of them owe money and many of the workers have
been let go. No one is helping them out, and it is hard to survive."
Tzemah, one of Israel's top promoters, can only look back with
nostalgia to the good old days when he brought in such artists as
Mstislav Rostropovich, Mercedes Sosa, Elton John, Paul Simon, Leonard
Cohen, Tina Turner and Derek Jacobi. Now, Israel seems to be under
cultural siege. The reasons are familiar: some international artists
believe that Israel is carrying out war crimes; others are simply
afraid, or unwilling to grapple with Arab groups that have put
pressure on them not to come.
Surprisingly, Lebanon has now occupied Israel's old niche in the
international touring circuit. In many instances, performers and
troupes that had signed contracts cancel them and then go to Lebanon
instead. "One of my greatest disappointments," says impresario and
producer Ze'ev Isaac, "is that many artists who signed contracts with
me and then canceled their trips to Israel, went on to play in
Lebanon on the same exact dates. Lebanon is now bringing in three
times the number of performers and bands than we ever had in Israel,
even in our finest years.
"Only seven years ago," rails Isaac, "not a single one of the
performers wanted to go to Lebanon, whereas now it is very much
accepted to appear there. The Lebanese pay good money to
international artists, and when Lebanese TV films the performances,
it pays the artists at very attractive rates. For instance, Pavarotti
can get $1 million from [Lebanese] TV for a show, because then it is
sold all around the Arab world."
Since he immigrated to Israel in 1988 from Australia, Isaac has
brought in the likes of Madonna, Eric Clapton, Elton John, Tom Jones,
and dance companies such as Lord of the Dance. The man who once
worked so hard to bring at least 10 big-name performers and acts to
Israel each year has now for all intents and purposes suspended his
international activities. Isaac now restricts himself to local
performers and rents out Hangar 11 in the Tel Aviv Port for private
events and shows. "The big artists abroad don't need Israel," says
Isaac. "It doesn't add anything to their careers. Most aren't even
willing to negotiate with local producers, but even those who do
agree to come eventually cancel."
Abysmal situation
According to Isaac, compared to impresarios abroad, the situation of
local impresarios is abysmal. "Whenever I go to international
conventions I feel like a leper. Jewish promoters ask me how my
health is, not how my business is. They tell me they don't have a
single performer to offer me for a show in Israel."
The most recent cancellation to hit Isaac was that of British pop
group Depeche Mode in November 2001. Isaac had signed the band, but
the concert was eventually canceled because suppliers of the
equipment refused to ship it to Israel. "Fans of the group wouldn't
relent," recalls Isaac, "so I chartered a plane and sold plane
tickets to 200 fans who flew to Istanbul to see Depeche Mode there.
>From being a promoter, I became a travel agent." In general,
performances are often canceled despite agreements with the artist's
managers. All it takes is for two musicians to refuse to come; then
they get the union involved and the entire trip is eventually
scrapped.
The cancellation of a performance by an artist or group causes losses
amounting to tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars. Losses can be
even higher if the cancellation is made closer to the date of the
show, since by then the promoter may have already paid for the hall,
advertising and public relations, trips abroad to conduct
negotiations, printing expenses for flyers and posters. At times, a
staff of employees may have been working for a full year on a project
that is eventually canceled. "The risks are so extreme," claims
Isaac," that even if Elton John were willing to come now, I would
pass."
Moshe Yosef's international artistic management has also ground to a
halt. "In those instances in which the performers agree to come, the
musicians will refuse. I am constantly trying, but nothing works out.
The monetary losses are immense. Last October's cancellation of Greek
singer Harris Alexiou cost me close to $40,000. I learned from that
experience, and am not taking any more risks."
Promoter Pinhas Postel finds himself in similar straits. In the past
he has brought to Israel such artists as Pina Bausch, the pianist Igo
Pogorelich, the Vienna Philharmonic, the Kirov Opera conducted by
Valery Gergiev and the Stuttgart Ballet. In the past two years, he
has signed contracts with 10 different groups; not a single one has
honored the agreement.
"In the past, I would bring to Israel between eight and ten groups a
year, but in the past two years I have barely been able to sign a
single group to a concert, and in the end, they cancel, too," says
Postel. "Some cancellations aren't directly related to fears from
terrorism, but rather to political motives. One Greek singer who was
supposed to appear for a series of concerts in Israel and who
canceled at the last moment, told me she was afraid of being
boycotted in her own country. Performers often tell me, `We won't
come until you solve your problems with the Palestinians.' The
financial risk is all mine, the insurance doesn't cover
cancellations, and the suppliers want their money."
Insurance companies refuse to insure promoters for cancellation of
performances. The promoters argue that the state should get into the
picture, through Inbal Insurance, a government-owned corporation. "We
aren't asking for financial support, only for help," says
Tzemah. "Just as they have helped other sectors, such as the hotels,
which received loans and reduced property taxes. It is in the state's
interest, unless it wants Israel to be under cultural siege."
Producer and concert promoter Shuki Weiss concurs. "After the
earthquake in Turkey, when the insurance companies were refusing to
insure performers who appeared there because of fears of additional
earthquakes, the Turkish government issued insurance policies backed
by the government, and were able to stage performances there. We
could bring between 20 and 30 percent more performers to Israel if we
could come up with a way to issue these insurance policies."
As president of the Association of Producers and Impresarios, Tzemah
approached Finance Minister Silvan Shalom, who in turn referred him
to his aide, Michel Ouaknine. "The promoters and producers sector
employs about 4,500 people," charged Tzemah in a letter to the
minister. "The security risk is so high and not under the control of
the promoter and producer, and it is this risk that determines what
happens."
Ouaknine passed Tzemah's letter on to the managing director of Inbal
Insurance, Yitzhak Klein. His response, on December 30, 2001, put an
end to the request: "Issuing insurance policies for cancellation of
events under the current conditions," Klein responded, "is like an
arrangement for reimbursing losses. It's not insurance. We therefore
regret to inform you that Inbal is unable to comply with your
request."
An appeal to Minister of Culture Matan Vilnai yielded a similar
result. "He was nice, and sympathetic, and said, `We will promote, we
will do, we will talk,' but nothing came of it ," says Tzemah. In
response to an inquiry from Ha'aretz, Minister Vilnai said that his
office had taken up the matter with Inbal Insurance, but it turned
out that the company is not authorized to insure the private business
affairs of non-governmental bodies. "We couldn't find any way to help
them," he said.
Cultural castration
The Camelot Club in Herzliya and Tel Aviv used to produce numerous
rock and jazz shows from abroad, enlivening a local jazz scene that
had been dormant for a long time. Everything has come apart since the
intifada. Artists from abroad don't want to come, and Camelot turned
into just another club that stages Israeli pop and rock and world
music acts. The jazz scene has reverted to its former state.
"I used to bring in a lot of performers from abroad - mainly jazz and
blues, but also electronic music and world music," says Yoni
Feingold, who founded Camelot. "International performers appeared at
Camelot almost daily. At the start of the intifada, we were planning
to put on a concert with the Ra'anana Symphonette and Nana Mouskouri,
but two weeks before the concert she canceled. Later on there were a
lot more projects like that, in which we had invested money in vain.
The cancellations led to exorbitant financial losses. Anyone who had
focused on bringing in artists from abroad realizes that this
industry simply no longer exists. The intifada sent us back to the
1950s and 60s. The exposure to Western culture, which had been so
prolific in the past decade, has vanished. Now we live in a swamp
without any stimuli or challenges, and it isn't healthy. Artistically
speaking, you could say it is castrating."
"The American and European promoters have taken us off their lists,"
complains Weiss. "American performers aren't coming here, because of
the warning issued by the U.S. State Department, which has issued
explicit instructions. But performers from Europe also face serious
limitations. Jerusalem is considered dangerous, so the warning says
not to go there, and Tel Aviv is deemed a danger of the first rank.
Their security demands for the hotel are extremely stringent, as are
the requests for securing the event itself, and on top of that you
have to add the regular security precautions taken in Israel."
Last year, Weiss brought the band Five to Israel, and was asked to
pay for their security detail. "Two people from Scotland Yard came
in," he relates. "A security officer and a deputy security officer,
and they took responsibility for the band's personal security. When
the rock band Westlife from Ireland came, they demanded two armed
security men on the floor of the hotel where they were staying, to
prevent the entry of strangers. The costs were of course borne by the
production, meaning me."
However, the success of a concert is not assured even if the promoter
has passed all the hurdles. At this point he has to persuade the
Israeli audience to come out to large-scale concerts, where they are
more exposed to security threats.
The only artists that consent to come here on a consistent basis are
performers from Russia and other countries in Eastern Europe. The
audience is loyal and warm, and always ready to come out to see the
visiting artists. This past May, Tzemah produced for the Russian
television channel NTV (in conjunction with the channel's general
manager, Mark Meirson), an event that featured numerous Russian
artists, including singers Valeri Leontiev and Natasha Koroleva and
folk singer Leonid Agutin. The fact that a car bomb had gone off in
Rishon Letzion a few days before the event did not deter 100,000
spectators from coming to Park Hayarkon. In the coming months, Tzemah
and his partner, Uri Ofer, will be bringing the well-known dance
troupe of Boris Eifman and the opera "Nabucco," to be performed by
the Bolshoi. The two productions will be mounted in collaboration
with the Tel Aviv Center for the Performing Arts and the New Israeli
Opera.
Collaborations between private promoters and cultural institutions
are one way to remain afloat. Moshe Yosef, for instance, collaborated
with the Center for the Performing Arts on a production of "My Fair
Lady," and with the Haifa Theater on a production of "Rambetiko."
Shuki Weiss produced the Batsheva Dance Company's "Anaphase in the
Desert."
Nevertheless, there will certainly be those who ask why there is any
need to bring in artists from abroad. After all, local performers
stand to profit by their monopoly. Uri Ofer, former general director
of the New Israeli Opera who is now a promoter, takes such a
stand: "True, the world is now open and we mustn't give up on it
forever, but if - during a specific period of time - international
performers aren't coming here, you can try to make it into something
positive, for the sake of local talents." |
