Jewish, gypsy pasts meet pop

Slabiak brothers mix bits of tradition in a high-spirited hybrid

By John von Rhein
Tribune music critic
Published February 3, 2006

Jewish music comes in many forms, from the secular to the sacred, from the comic to the profound.

So although no single evening could sum up the breadth of this great repertory, the performers who convened in Orchestra Hall on Wednesday offered an appealing introduction.

The most vigorous music-making by far came from Les Yeux Noirs, a vocal-instrumental ensemble headed by brothers Eric and Olivier Slabiak. Brilliant as violinists and beguiling as vocalists, the brothers have managed to re-cast age-old Jewish and gypsy musical traditions in contemporary terms.

Making no apologies for its amplified fiddles and plugged-in guitars, Les Yeux Noirs (which translates to "Black Eyes") draws equally on the past and the present. Ancient scales resurface in snappy pop-song formats; time-honored songs from East European shtetls re-emerge in peppy, populist settings.

Purists may scoff at the hybrid, which does not follow the rules of either the klezmer or gypsy performance practices of earlier days (at least as far as they can be determined). Yet that's not the purpose of Les Yeux Noirs. Instead, the Slabiak brothers and their nimble septet borrow liberally from the musical traditions of Jewish folklore (as well as a touch of gypsy fare), then do with them as they please.

What results are undeniably exuberant sounds that easily entertain an audience, even if this work rarely reaches the deepest levels of musical expression. Extroverted, optimistic and usually upbeat, the music of Les Yeux Noirs nearly makes up in high spirits what it often lacks it in interpretive depth.

To hear this band reworking traditional dance music and Yiddish lullabies is to behold a remarkably deft aesthetic transformation. Even so, Les Yeux Noirs' Euro-pop treatment--complete with synthesizers and electronic drumbeats--made at least one listener yearn to hear the real thing.

In the end, however, there was no denying the violin virtuosity of the Slabiak brothers, the sweet harmony of their vocal duets or the charismatic singing of guitarist Pascal Rondeau.

The celebrated Israeli singer-songwriter Chava Alberstein followed Les Yeux Noirs, though considering the intimacy and introspection of her work, she really should have appeared first on the evening's double-bill (notwithstanding her status as headliner).

Yet Alberstein certainly provided the gravitas that Les Yeux Noirs generally lacked. The lilting melody line of "The Secret Garden," the bittersweet nostalgia of "Cards on the Balcony" and the melancholy spirit of "I Stand Beneath a Carob Tree" helped explain why she has endured as an icon of Israeli musical culture.

As for her vocals, to this day she commands one of the most alluring altos in international folk music.
hreich@tribune.com 02/03/06

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