Summertime, Sobhi-time
Amal Chouchri Catta remembers summer in the 1980s
Sobhi Bedeir and Friends, Cairo Opera House Open-air Theatre, Wednesday 2 July
Summer is back and so is Sobhi Bedeir, the tenor who became synonymous with summertime shows after Demis Roussos, kaftan-clad and crooning, performed at the Gezira Sporting Club in the early 1980s. It was Bedeir who came up with the idea of backing his voice with a sound system rather than a live band. Already applauded as Radames and other operatic heroes, Bedeir became a professional crooner, demonstrating his up-tempo authority and amazing talent.
Audiences from all over the country immediately flocked to his Italian, Spanish, French and English numbers. With his keyboard virtuoso and friend Nayer Nagui, he turned into a star in the making. One day he called in his friends (young singers on their way to fame), drew up a choir and began to perform, with a little help from Nagui and baritone Elhami Amin, under the name Sobhi and Friends.
Thus the first summer concert at the Opera's Open-Air Theatre this season, which took place last week. Many came but many left at the interval, describing the programme as weak; the songs had been heard too often and the singer was performing for an elite audience, not caring for the rest; his sound system was inadequate.
I decided to put the blame on the heat. But staying on, it suddenly dawned on me that there was truth in what was said. The concert lacked the thrill it had once enjoyed. The songs sounded old, the show amounted to a repeat-performance that had neither exuberance nor sensitivity. Those familiar with Bedeir had to admit the unfortunate change. Nor did the singer's usual routine help: Bedeir just walks onto the stage, sings, stops only for a short break and resumes till the end; the approximately 20 songs last two hours. He never interacts with his audience in any way, whispering only a brief "thank you" for the applause and announcing the end of the show after the last song. This no doubt contributed to the relative lack of appeal of last week's concert .
A more creative choice of the songs would have been preferable to the medley that was offered, which concentrated on no particular language or subject. There was as much love as nostalgia, as much passion as romance, with relatively little "cha-cha- cha". A good dose of this came along with the ninth song, a Spanish pot-pourri of "Si Senor", "Besame-Mucho", "Amor, amor" and "Ay-ay-ay". We did, however, get a strong beat with the fourth song, "We're living in a world of fools", a welcome change after the romantic mood of the first few tunes.
The concert had started with spotlights flooding the stage with a blue haze, the keys spinning out luminous, tranquil lines to the choir of around ten, who were chanting a melody reminiscent of a lullaby, with Sobhi dreamily purring "Just to be with you" into the microphone. The mood became Italian in the second song, while rhythm came on with the third one, sending us all "flying to the moon".
Bedeir's melodious modulations can be charming, and Nagui has an exquisite way of arranging the themes. The latter were perfect in "Sing, sing a song, sing out loud, sing out strong, sing happy not sad", flying aloft with a colourful "la-la-la" from the choir, while the soloist thus urged his audience. It was at this point Bedeir turned French -- something he shouldn't have done. At least not with soprano Jacqueline Rafik singing in duet at a rather disagreeable high pitch: "Domino, le printemps chante en moi Dominique". They sang alternately, sometimes forgetting the lyrics, sometimes humming into the microphone.
Rafik is Bedeir's steady companion, the prima donna of all his shows: her pure voice is too weak for the opera's main stage, though she manages quite well with a microphone. She did provide some beautiful sequences of celebrated musicals last season. But one cannot help feeling that she should try to sing pop songs in a lower register.
After "Domino" Bedeir joyfully turned Anglo-American, pleading ardently "let me love you, let me lie in your arms", while the keys became reminiscent of springtime sonatas. It was rather sweet and romantic, but it didn't last. A switch to Italian mode saw him pouring nostalgic passion into the microphone, while the choir helped him on with the Neapolitan emotion with their exciting "Ah-ahs".
The second part of the concert opened with Amin beating a frantic rhythm on the drums while singing in a rather flat, colourless voice a seemingly endless "Besame". Amin has a good voice, but he would be well advised to alter his technique when he delves into pop. We were kept in the Spanish vein through the next song, when Sobhi suddenly decided to give us something to think about with his "Bridge over troubled waters", and, turning to romance once more, called Rafik for an Italian, rather unconvincing duet "vivo per lei".
It was Nagui who saved the day with a rhythmic "alone again", while Sobhi came on with "smoke gets in your eyes" followed by "O sole mio". The latter was once his so-called signature-tune: one couldn't imagine Sobhi without his Neapolitan sun. Though it is getting older with every performance, the song is still a much-loved melody when Sobhi sings it in his husky, romantic way. This time, however, some listeners thought the show was over and started to leave: the heat was unbearable, everyone had counted on an evening breeze, but it never came and the show seemed to go on for ever.
It switched to Spanish and French with "mon histoire, c'est l'histoire d'un amour", followed by the lovely "When Marimba rhythms start to play, dance with me, make me sway", and the Italian "Ti voglio bene, sai", and finally closing with "make it a better place for you and for me", an invitation to love and peace and a better world.
Sobhi and Friends were greeted with spontaneous applause: we did admire the performers' endurance -- they had gone on for over 90 minutes in the heat, under the spotlights -- though equally we hoped their next concert, originally planned for Wednesday 6 August, would be better organised and more effective.
