City of Explosions Word from: Alieza

Last week I went to a Mashina Concert at Briechat HaSultan (The Sultan's pool) in Jerusalem. I felt a certain mystical interaction between history and present as I stumbled over the inlayed stone steps that were once the steps into this gigantic man made pool. Yemin Moshe stands above to your left and the Old City to the right. Not surprisingly, all concerts and event at the Sultan's pool must end before 11 not to annoy the deeply ensconced neighborhoods.

We snuck in a bottle of wine to drink. I reminisced with my American friend about the good old days at Tangelwood and Saratoga Springs where they used search your bags to prevent people from sneaking in drinks or glass bottles. Our Israeli companion assured us that they only search for bombs and they couldn't care less about the wine.


Machina is a band whose height was in the 80's and is played obsessively on Israeli radio. Throughout the concert a computer generated background lit up the stage. This might have been the only new thing at the concert: apparently they played their greatest hits album that night, but that was obviously what the audience, who new all the words and all the hand motions, most wanted. The background alternated between sunrises, visions of the world from space, and cascading geometric designs. A couple creative moments caught my eye: a landscape video taken of Jerusalem's sky line, repeating cranes and all, and a silhouette of hesitant man in a purple haze walking, bowing, and tipping his hat.

Also on the visual note, during the concert a display of fire works (unplanned) appeared in a park beyond the stage. And then as part of the finely scripted finale, streamers flew from the stage into the audience and Mashina's own planned fire works exploded low in the sky above. (Better than on Yom HaAtzmaut I was told.) For a city of explosions, I marvel at the number of fireworks displays I hear: three or four a week.