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ACHINOAM
NINI (NOA) - By Shelley Kleiman But Nini, known abroad simply as Noa, is not singing political tunes these
days. An outspoken leftist, whose last English-language album, "Calling,"
was, as she puts it "angry, intense and politically motivated,"
Nini says that right now she has little to say. "I'm just sort of
waiting, swinging between moods of despair and hope." Nini
describes her most recent Hebrew release, "Achinoam Nini" (she
has released five albums in total; three in Hebrew and two in English,
produced by Geffen Records) as "homey, intimate and deeply
personal." She sings about folding laundry and not about the troubled
peace process. "How much can you shout and scream?" asks Nini
with a weltschmerz that belies her 28 years. She
displays a brand of street-smart sophistication mixed in with a let's-all-be-friends
naivete. And for such a charismatic powerhouse on stage, on her own turf
Nini is surprisingly soft-spoken. A transcendental calm pervades her Tel
Aviv apartment (you have to remove your shoes before entering -- "it's
more relaxing that way") where she lives with her pediatrician
husband, Asher Barak. Aside
from the roses which cover every available surface, a gift from her father
following her recent appearance with the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra,
stage glitter is strictly confined to the stage. A guitar graces one
living room chair, a drum is a makeshift coffee table; books line one wall
("I'm a bookworm at heart") and CD's are everywhere. Slight,
dark-skinned, dark-eyed with thick, long, curly locks, Nini looks so
Middle Eastern, it's as if you made a wrong turn somewhere when you hear
her "oh, man, cool" New York accent. Born in Israel to parents
of Yemenite descent, Nini's family moved to the US when she was less than
a year old. "We spoke Hebrew at home and English everywhere else,"
says Nini, whose early musical influences included Simon and Garfunkel,
Joni Mitchell, Rogers and Hammerstein (a Broadway aficionado, Nini hints
she wouldn't mind a run herself) and Leonard Bernstein. But
Nini says she never felt quite at home in the United States -- even her
English-language jazz-tinged rock has a distinctive Mideastern flavor to
it -- and at 17 she packed her bags and returned to Israel. After
completing high school, she sang with an army entertainment troupe and
went on to study at the prestigious Rimon School of Jazz and Contemporary
Music. It was there she met guitarist and school co-founder Gil Dor. In
1990, they performed together at a jazz festival and have since become an
inseparable artistic team. She sings (and plays percussion, including the
Darbuka, a hand-held Arab drum), Dor plays guitar (and harmonizes); she
composes (so does he), he does the musical arrangements. Of her high and
Dor's low stage profiles, Nini says, a tad defensively, "it's a
matter of personal choice." It
obviously works. Nini and Dor have been enthusiastically received all over
the world, especially in Europe and the Far East. They performed "Ave
Maria" at St. Peter's Basilica, Rome, before an audience of 100,000,
including the pope and Mother Teresa ("one of the highlights of my
career,") opened for Sting eight times ("he said we gave him a
run for his money") and performed before a packed house at New York's
Carnegie Hall (despite Nini's claim that they haven't yet cracked the US
market). On home ground, her albums have gone gold, her "gigs"
-- a Nini nod to musical Americanese -- are always sold out and she has
appeared on just about every local talk show any number of times. Nini,
who always chats with her audience before she sings, says she wants to
move people cerebrally and viscerally -- "to remove them, if only for
a few moments, from the mundane in their lives." She talks a lot
about spirituality. For Nini, only music stands a fighting chance of
breaking down cultural barriers. "It has a universal appeal that no
other language possesses," says Nini, who in her own way is
determined to heal the world. |