Sussan Deyhim accomplished with her voice was a revelation. Pointing out that she was an Iranian woman being accompanied by a Jewish brass player and a Jewish bassist, she created an atmosphere in which we could no longer believe in the current political fire that is ready to ignite the spaces that separate Iran from Israel, from the United States, and from most of the Western World. I could see directly why there was a time â€“ ancient Egypt and the old Orphic Tradition, to name but two â€“ when music was the master teacher simply because it restores the soul; it opens the mind like a great lens so that your eye is my eye, is the beeâ€™s eye, is the whaleâ€™s eye, is the eye of Earth peering out into endless reaches of starry grandeur and mysterious forms of life waiting to be born.
Without artists the Earth would already be scorched a thousand times over: ashes unable to eke out any more green shoots. For seven hours at the Avalon the green shoots of hope were everywhere. The growth could not be contained. Befitting the ecstasy at the end, my camera battery ran out and I could no longer record: instead I jumped on the green wave and vanished into a world worthy of our protection and â€“ as all the artists stated all night â€“ our undying love, that creative courage sustains as a matter of course. Sussan Deyhim had a smile that transcended every border man has ever created. It was art and artists who united Iranian and Jew on the stage â€“ and labored together to bring the house down. Glorious harmony as voice, bass and brass â€“ including a ramâ€™s horn â€“ alternated with feverish excitement. It was the trance of the spirit of our own time, gathering itself up to survive intact, smiling, passionate, capable, able to see its way through illusion and false paths.forms of life waiting to be born.