Shlomo Artzi’s Trying to Traverse Israeli, U.S. Pop Scenes

What’s been dubbed a “Hebrew Invasion” of pop stars from Israel winds up tonight when Shlomo Artzi, the singer some critics have called the “Israeli Springsteen,” performs at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium.

Artzi follows recent concerts by songwriter David Broza, whose album of adapted Spanish songs, “The Woman at My Side,” is the best-selling Israeli pop recording of all time, and rocker Shalom Hanoch, who performed at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium in April.

It’s no mean feat to break through traditional American disdain for foreign music and languages to reach broader audiences. Artzi, who is negotiating with a British label to produce a crossover album, said in an interview on the phone from Israel that he regards his chances for hitting it big here as “about the same as winning the lottery.”

Tom Schnabel, international music enthusiast and host of KCRW radio’s “Morning Becomes Eclectic,” said he can understand Artzi’s pessimism. “Israel,” Schnabel said, “could have the liveliest scene in the world. It wouldn’t matter. Because of the way records are marketed in the United States, no one here would ever hear about it.

“The American pop audience is very reluctant to accept, let alone enshrine, someone who isn’t speaking English,” he said. Schnabel noted it takes an artist with the stature of a Paul Simon or a David Byrne to bring the music of a particular country, such as South Africa and Brazil, to the attention of American listeners. And even then, the music is seldom unadulterated.

At 40, Artzi is only a year younger than his homeland. His Israeli producer, Louis Lahav, who assisted Springsteen in the production of the “Born to Run” album, contends that Artzi’s music reflects Israel’s brief and tremulous history--and especially the current Israeli scene. Artzi’s name translates as “my country.” He functions, Lahav said, as an Israeli everyman.

The son of a Holocaust survivor who eventually became a member of Israel’s Knesset, Artzi began his career as a teen heartthrob--the Israeli equivalent of Dion or Fabian, recalled Israeli lyricist and pop historian Ehud Manor.

Most of his music was written for him. Eventually, however, Artzi’s audiences lost interest in him. In 1976, when he was 27, Artzi dropped from sight, dabbling in construction work, and even putting in time as a clerk in a bookstore. He puttered at various pastimes for three years, meanwhile refining his outlook.

In 1981, Artzi met up with Lahav. “Louis opened my head to the possibilities,” Artzi said. “He was the one who forced me to try appealing to large numbers of people. I had always thought you could only be intimate with groups of 400--he showed me you could press the flesh with 40,000.”

Lahav produced three of Artzi’s albums. The last two, “Restless Night” and the double-album “July/August Heat,” have been shlaggers --the Hebrew parlance for monsters.

In “Abed’s in a Hurry,” a song which was inspired by journalist David Grossman’s anticipatory account of the Palestinian uprising, “The Yellow Wind,” Artzi notes that the locals are throwing grenades at passing cars these days--not the baskets of dates they showered on their conquerors in 1967.

“There’s no strength left in Tel Aviv or Qalqilia,” mourns Artzi as he encounters the Palestinian Abed, who responds: “It’s all politics.”

“Someday you’ll learn something about us,” Abed says. “How your sky is like ours, like that of others; and my field--I belong to it like fruit belongs to a tree.’

Artzi said he has tried to avoid being pigeonholed as a member of the right or left--he is, he says, a humanist. Not that the label helped him much--when “Abed” was released, there were telephoned death threats against his father and daughter from right-wing sources.

“If I have one message,” Artzi said, “it’s that this country isn’t what it used to be.”

Pop historian Manor recalls that in earlier years Israeli entertainers tended to appear exclusively at temples, universities and small halls before English-speaking American-Jewish audiences hungry for a taste of Israeli folklore. But for most of today’s Israeli pop singers who perform in Hebrew, those kinds of outlets appear to be drying up.

“The difference today,” Manor said, “is that American Jews are not, as a rule, coming to these concerts. They can’t understand the language and they can’t understand the unique point of view being expressed. And maybe they’re feeling less at ease with Israel than they once did.”