A Musician’s Return to Judaism and a New Song of Faith

A little over two years ago, Tomer Matana seemed to be living the dream. Signed to Helicon Records, one of Israel’s top music labels, he was being groomed for stardom. After his breakout single “Understanding Backwards” gained airplay, Helicon poured big budgets into his debut album and started promoting him as the next big star. He had also earned a name as a talented music producer, working with top Israeli singers like Amir Benayoun.

But right at the moment most artists would be celebrating, something inside him shifted. At the same time he signed with Helicon, Tomer began drawing closer to Judaism. As his spiritual journey deepened, the songs he had already recorded, mainly romantic pop no longer felt right to him. He started to want something different, something more in tune with his growing Jewish identity.

"I wanted to do things on my own, the way I saw them," he explains. "I didn’t want to go through committees and approvals for every song release. I’m not someone who fits into tight boxes."

How much did your spiritual growth influence your decision to leave Helicon?
"It had a big effect. Something in me just didn’t feel comfortable continuing. I wasn’t connecting anymore to some of the songs. Things had changed in me. Helicon also wasn’t really familiar with the world of Jewish music. I wanted to sing for everyone not just for secular crowds. I suggested performing at Torah classes, but they didn’t understand that concept. Even if they did, I still wanted to do it my way. But I want to make it clear: we didn’t part ways in conflict. It ended very nicely and respectfully."

Today, Tomer is 29, living in Rosh HaAyin with his wife and child. Music has always been part of his life. His mother loved Israeli folk songs, his father listened to Yemenite music, and his grandfather who performed under the name Magdi Bason and was also a Mossad agent was a well-known Arabic singer.

"I started performing at events at 13 and made money as a singer in a wedding band. I was sort of a novelty, this kid who sang. Over time, I learned to play keyboard and piano, and began accompanying big artists on stage. But I never wanted to be known just as a musician. I wanted to sing. So I turned down offers to play regularly. After my army service in the IDF's Educational Corps band, I started writing my own songs."

Tomer set up a small studio at home to record his ideas. That eventually led to producing music for others. In 2008, he opened Tamar Studio named after his late grandmother. There, he produced songs for stars like Amir Benayoun, Margalit Tzan’ani, Omer Adam, and more.

"After singing, the thing I love most is producing music. I love taking a raw idea, a melody and words and wrapping it in the right sound, like a tailored suit. I guide the musicians, work with the singer, and shape it all to serve the heart of the song."

How do you know what the song needs?
"It’s all imagination. As soon as I hear the sketch, I see it almost complete. Where the drums go, where the guitars come in. Sometimes I think of something new in the middle like a flute or bouzouki. Sometimes I know right away what belongs."

Naming the studio “Tamar” was a tribute to his grandmother, a righteous woman who planted in him a deep awe of Heaven. She was the daughter of a great Torah scholar and dayan (Jewish judge), Mori Yehiya Mani, one of Yemen’s leading sages. Although Tomer grew up in a traditional home, he wasn’t deeply interested in Judaism as a child. That changed later.

"As I matured, I started asking questions, going to Torah classes, learning more. I began to carry a kippah in my pocket, say blessings before eating, bentch (say Grace After Meals), and go to synagogue on Shabbat. Then certain things started to bother me like watching TV or driving on Shabbat. It pierced my heart. I also became more sensitive to things like lashon hara (gossip), and my whole emotional world started shifting."

At that point, he was married to a secular woman from a non-traditional background, and the gap between them became challenging.

How did you handle that?
"It’s very hard. The only way is with gentleness and sensitivity. I constantly asked myself: What’s more important, arguing and hurting the atmosphere at home, or showing love and patience? If my wife felt lonely when I went to a Torah class, I’d choose to stay home and go another time. I always tried to show her that she comes first."

Thankfully, things have changed for the better. Tomer’s wife joined him on the journey of growing closer to Judaism. Today, they both keep Shabbat according to halacha (Jewish law), observe taharat hamishpacha (family purity), and study Torah together.

"We don’t want to stay at the same level, we want to keep growing," Tomer says.

Were there any spiritual mentors who helped you?
"Rabbi Yitzhak Gabay guided me the most. I studied with him regularly through the Artists’ Yeshiva. He supported me in big ways. Also, the Hidabroot channel really helped strengthen our connection to Judaism. My wife watches lectures by Rabbi Zamir Cohen, Rabbi Yitzhak Fanger, and Rabbi Kavass. The rabbis of Hidabroot bring a lot of light into the world."

Just last week, Tomer released his first single in this new chapter of life. The song is called “Help,” and it’s part of the album he’s now working on, the one that truly reflects where he is spiritually.

Who are you asking for help from in the song?
"From Hashem, of course. He’s the only one who can really help. The song talks about the pain of someone returning to Torah when their spouse is in a different place spiritually. It’s very hard. The only answer is prayer. Ask Hashem for guidance, understanding, and wisdom."

And in your case, it sounds like those prayers were answered.
"Baruch Hashem (thank God). There’s still a long road ahead, but we’re grateful for every step forward. And through it all, we really see truly and deeply that there is ein od milvado, there is none besides Him."