Avraham Tal: Music, Faith, and the Quiet Journey Behind the Songs

Avraham Tal lives in Pardes Hanna. He is divorced and a father of two — a musician, singer, songwriter, and producer.

From then until today

“I was born into a traditional Mizrahi home. We made Kiddush on Friday nights, celebrated the holidays — and that was more or less it. But Kiddush really entered my heart, and to this day I try to make Kiddush every Shabbat, with the same melody my grandfather and father used — even when I’m abroad. Our home was full of warmth and love, and for me that is deeply connected to tradition. In the end, those are the most important things you can give your children — to love them. There is no greater sense of security for a child than that.

Even as a kid I was always searching, asking questions about the meaning of life, about purpose — and I’m still like that today.”

A good eye

“When I was nine, I was injured in a kids’ game and almost lost the vision in one eye, and because of that, I actually found my way into the world of music. In the hospital, the boy in the bed next to mine was playing on a small keyboard. I was fascinated, so I started playing too, and I never stopped. I realized very quickly that making music does me good — really good.

I grew up in a small, remote moshav in the north — Neve Ativ, right at the foot of Mount Hermon. Only about 30 families live there. In such an isolated place, you have a lot of free time as a child — and into that space, music entered. After teaching myself to play the keyboard, I moved on to other instruments. I worked delivering newspapers in the village, saved money, and every few months bought another instrument.

Today you could say I play almost every common instrument — piano, guitar, bass guitar, percussion, some wind instruments, and more. Until age 20 I mainly wanted to be a drummer — and then I discovered singing, and immediately understood that this is the thing that makes me feel best in the world.”

Let the song lead

“It’s important to me to be famous, but because of my songs. As long as my songs go before me, that’s the right order. There are artists who are more famous than their songs, and I don’t think that place is right — and personally it doesn’t do me good.

I look for quiet. Without quiet, I can’t create. When I’m on stage, I’m there 100 percent — but offstage I’m pretty shy. In crowded places you’ll usually find me sitting quietly in a corner.

The most successful artists — the ones who last for years, are usually people you hardly know anything about their private lives. Take Shlomo Artzi for example — you don’t really know if he’s married or not, where he lives. Same with Berry Sakharof or Ehud Banai — people who became classics. And I think that for audiences too — when an artist becomes completely accessible, they actually become less interesting.”

(צילום: רגב גל)

A sign you’re still young

“I think what motivates me most to create is the deep longing every artist has — to create a dialogue with as many people as possible. When I release a song and it succeeds, people listen and respond — and today feedback comes very fast, and I see that it makes them feel good. That’s a huge joy for me.

You sit in the studio alone — maybe with one or two friends, creating something from nothing, words and letters that turn into sentences, into melody, rhythm, production — and suddenly it reaches so many people. Then you realize the conversation worked.

It really fills me to know that something I put my talent into brings people joy. It’s moving, and it also means you’re still attentive to the world. Artists my age can get stuck in one musical style, but I’m glad I’m still changing. As long as you’re changing, you’re still young. When you stay flexible and keep learning new things, life stays interesting.”

No “celebrity discount”

“Sometimes fame causes me a certain kind of discomfort. I walk down the street and everyone knows me, but I don’t know everyone. People know things about me — and I don’t know anything about them. Sometimes I really wish I could just be anonymous.

When I travel abroad and no one turns around to look at me, it’s a real pleasure. But at the same time, I know I became famous because of my songs — not because of gossip columns, and that makes it easier.

The love I receive over the years moves me every time. People come up to me and open their hearts — ‘Keep doing what you’re doing, your songs helped me through hard times’. I feel that my songs do people good, and they want to give something back.

Sometimes people ask for selfies — and most people are considerate, but there are times when I say no. When I’m with my kids, I’m their father, not ‘Avraham Tal’. After shows, though, I usually stay for a long time — sometimes two hours after everyone else has gone, just to take pictures with people.”

(צילום: רגב גל)

Only goodness and kindness

“I feel that I’m always being guided on my journey. I have a deep faith that everything from God is for the good. I see the world as a world of kindness — no one is here to harm us. That’s why I don’t like when people blame God. He is only good — and if something goes wrong along the way, it’s just a stage on the road to the good and the light.

At first, my eye injury seemed like the worst thing, but because of it I received music, and gained so much in life from it. I wouldn’t be the same person without music — it’s air for my soul.

I've worked with Avi Ohayon — he wrote many of the big hits of recent years. Every time we start writing we say: ‘God, may there be blessing in this creation, may we be able to share from Your goodness.’ I try to make my work something that serves others — that elevates it. God gave me life, a body, talent, and a voice, and I continue that giving by using them for others.”

Not more and not less

“When I think about the future, I mainly want to keep doing what I’m doing — to keep creating with joy, and for my art to continue supporting my family with dignity. I hope to keep enjoying the things that bring me peace, such as riding my motorcycle, surfing, and working in my home studio. I don’t dream about conquering the international stage — I just want to keep enjoying everyday life.”

Full-moon nights

“Every week when Shabbat comes in, I feel its energy. I’m very sensitive to energies in general. For example, I feel something special when the moon is full, especially on the 15th of the month — and something different when it begins to wane.

For me, the time just before Shabbat — the two hours before sunset, is the holiest time of the week. I try to be home on Shabbat — the noise of the whole week concentrates into a quiet space, a special time with the people you love most. I don’t perform on Shabbat anymore because I felt over the years that it didn’t belong, that the energy of Friday night isn’t meant for performing — it’s a time to rest from everything.

I also really love mitzvot between people, which is the foundation of everything, and the basis of the entire Torah.”