Ahead of performances with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, the singer and songwriter reflects on the extraordinary work he created with composer Nigel Westlake, and why it remains so beloved years later
‘Instil me with a greater sense of compassion so that I can be liberated.’
That quote, from the Jewish prayer Avinu Malkeinu, is at the heart of Compassion, the song cycle for voice and orchestra composed by singer-songwriter Lior Attar and celebrated composer Nigel Westlake, which the pair will perform with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in November. Originally composed nearly ten years ago, the work has become a classic, performed constantly around the country over the past decade – more so than any comparable piece of modern Australian classical music.
The work was borne out of tragic circumstances. Westlake’s son, Eli, was murdered in 2008 in a road rage incident; a year later, Westlake and his wife, Jan, held a memorial concert, and invited Attar, one of Eli’s favourite musicians, to perform. It was a hugely charged and emotional event, and at the end of Attar’s set of his own songs, he decided to conclude with an a capella rendition of Avinu Melkeinu, and its message of compassion. Following that performance Westlake and Attar met for the first time, and connected over the idea of creating a full orchestration of the hymn. The pair presented the work to the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, which immediately commissioned a full-length work.
“I thought about what it was in Avinu Malkeinu that I wanted to transmit,” Attar says. “It was a message of universality, and the wisdom of the trait of compassion, which I believe is central to what defines us as human beings.”
“But I didn’t want to just gather similar Hebrew texts, because it was important to me to not make it a mono-religious or mono-cultural expression, I wanted it to be truly universal. So I wanted to find a parallel proverb in Arabic, to present something from two worlds that have had such a volatile history over time, and something that expresses a commonality in the way these two ancient cultures view compassion, and how much importance is placed on it.”
Attar was perhaps uniquely qualified for this task, having been born in Israel to an Iraqi father, growing up speaking Hebrew but with a strong affinity to his father’s culture. With the help of Waleed Aly, and other researchers, it wasn’t long before they came across the perfect Arabic text.
“And then we had the blueprint. We had a Hebrew movement, we had an Arabic movement, and from there we expanded to other movements which all consisted of these beautiful texts that I managed to uncover, which all expressed some notion of the beauty of compassion.”
Further emphasising the universality of the piece, Westlake and Attar also worked to ensure the music wasn’t steeped in a particular musical language. “We didn’t want it to be overly derivative of any culture,” says Attar. “We strayed intentionally from using instruments like the oud, which has very strong cultural overtones, and tried to avoid cultural references, and to come up with music that just felt timeless to accompany these timeless words.”
The response was extraordinary. Those first concerts with the Sydney Symphony received rapturous ovations and rave reviews; the recording, released by the ABC, sold by the truckload, and won Best Classical Album at the 2014 ARIA Awards; and the work has had a long and rich life in concert halls around the country.
“We thought people would like it, but we didn’t know how much people would like it,” Attar says. “On the night of the premiere with the Sydney Symphony, both Nigel and I were blown away, and we both said that neither of us had ever experienced any kind of reaction or resonance like that, in anything that we had done in our respective careers.”
When asked why he thinks the work has inspired such an extraordinary reaction, Attar can’t quite put his finger on it. But he has a few theories.
“There is a certain timelessness to the music. A massive part of it is Nigel’s orchestration, which is truly remarkable. I think also there is a certain sacredness in the words that come through. And I think the fact that people don’t understand the words, but feel them. It gives the right amount of freedom for people to ruminate on the messages and the themes and the beauty, as well, without it being overly literal. I think there is a power in that as well.”