Amid the eruption of antisemitism worldwide, Nani Vazana, an accomplished Israeli singer, composer, trombonist, and pianist based in the Netherlands, sings in the Jewish language Ladino, winning the hearts of international listeners.
Her concerts are sold out, and the only cancellations (in Chile) are by organizers that have safety concerns, but not by the audience, the musician told the Magazine. The audience sings along.
For the last seven years, Vanzana, 42, has been performing in Ladino, restoring traditions, and writing original songs in the language of Sephardi Jews. With her song “Una Segunda Piel” (“a second skin”) from her most recent album, Ke Haber? (“What’s new?”), in November Vazana won the 2024 Liet International, a music competition for songs in European minority and regional languages, dubbed the “Eurovision for Minority Languages.”
Her music has been in the Library of Congress as a “Living Relic” since 2023. In 2022, she was #11 on the International World Music Chart, and #13 on the World Music Chart Europe.
Vazana, trained in classical and jazz music, already had her first two albums out when she performed at the Tangier Jazz Festival in Morocco in 2016. To her surprise, she heard traditional Ladino melodies, but sung in Arabic, on the streets of Fez, her grandmother’s hometown. It marked a turning point in her musical career.
These were the same melodies her grandmother had sung in her kitchen in Israel when Vazana was a little girl. The singer was always very close to her grandmother (who nicknamed her Nani), so when she heard the familiar melodies, she decided to learn the language and began writing songs in it, popularizing Ladino music and the traditional sounds of Sephardi Jews.
Vazana explained that Ladino, not just in her personal story, is the matriarchal language. It’s a language, she said, of women’s everyday life and of many passions and stories, which she expresses with great joy with her powerful voice during her performances and on her albums. Women’s empowerment is a very important theme in her music, which she embraces in traditional Ladino music with her personal, modern touch.
Vazana reflects on her rise to fame
I caught up with Vazana during her recent 20-concert US tour as she reflected on her rise to fame.
You started as a jazz singer with a classical and jazz background. Now you are a leading Ladino singer, who writes original songs in a language very much forgotten, as some people call it, the ‘Yiddish of the Sephardi Jews.’ How did the Ladino adventure begin for you?
In 2016, I was invited to play at the Tangier Jazz Festival in Morocco. After the festival, I took a couple of days to visit my grandmother’s hometown of Fez. There was some sort of street party. I don’t know what kind of holiday it was, but the people were singing melodies I remembered from my grandmother’s home. When I was a girl, she would sing them in the kitchen while cooking. And that was a big flashback moment for me.
So, when I came back [home], I started searching for these melodies and trying to find out where they came from and the names of these songs. Can I play it? Can I sing it? And then it just happened that I got involved with it.
And you had to learn a new language.
Yes, that took a few more years. In 2018, I started writing in Ladino. I also took some lessons because I wasn’t very good at it initially. I didn’t know the language very well.
Besides your grandmother singing in Ladino, did you hear it as a child? Was Ladino spoken in your home?
No. When my grandmother died I was 12, and I got disconnected from it. Also, my father forbade us from speaking the language at home.
Why?
He never told us why, but I think it’s because of [his] traumas. In 1952, his family came from Morocco [to Israel] as refugees, and they wanted to leave it all behind. He didn’t want to mention the past. Ladino was a traumatic language for him. He wanted us to speak only Hebrew.
I heard your cover of ‘Yesh Li Ahava,’ a song by Arik Einstein, which you recorded during the COVID pandemic. But that was online, due to the times. Do you also perform in Hebrew on stage?
Rarely. Mainly, if it’s a special project or if I’m invited to do someone else’s project. I recorded many videos in Hebrew in collaboration with other artists. In Amsterdam [where Vazana lives], I have a project that brings people together around the Hebrew language, called Hebrew Groove. It’s like a choir, but it’s cooler than a choir. We do a lot of closed-harmonic singing, and the vibe of this ensemble is more like a pop band.
It sounds interesting. But getting back to Ladino, it is a mixture of Spanish, specifically Castilian and Hebrew, right?
Yes, it’s mainly like old Spanish, almost like Latin. And there are words in Hebrew, Arabic, Turkish, and Balkan languages because the language traveled through many continents and many exiles of Jewish people.
You wrote about the matriarchal language on your website. It’s intriguing. Could you say some more about it?
Ladino was spoken and created by women in the Middle Ages. Back then, men went to the synagogue or yeshiva to study Torah for 10 or 12 hours daily. It was their profession. They were not allowed to speak Hebrew outside of the shul.
The women were left to run the household. When you run a household, you need to talk to other people, buy groceries, find out about herbal medicine, or gossip because that’s how you got news back then. So you need a language [to communicate].
Because of exiles, Jews didn’t have a common language, so I think Ladino became a mishmash of many local languages with Hebrew words and Arabic because of the Moors who lived in the Iberian Peninsula then; there were Turkish words because later the Jews were exiled and found refuge in the Ottoman Empire; later on, also in the Balkans, North Africa, and Greece. So you have all these languages mixed together into one.
Do you feel it’s still the language of women?
In music, yes. Mainly female artists write and sing in Ladino. Also, there’s something very feminine in the language. Even sexy, I would say. There’s something in it and in the [Ladino] music that appeals to female traits.
Very energetic and sensual music at the same time. You said somewhere that you play Ladino because you ‘see the future when you look at the past.’ Is that still your motto? For sure.
What future do you see?
A place where people discover their roots, especially from my generation. Because we were told to forget the past. My father wanted us to be Israeli, nothing else. So I want to discover my past. I want to know about my grandmother, nonna in Ladino.
Who is your audience usually?
People who like world music and jazz. There is a mixture of generations. There are older people, but there are also many young people. Yesterday, I did two shows. At both, there were [a significant number of] people 17 to 19 years old. So that’s nice because people are looking for their roots.
It is a form of empowerment for me because when I share my story, other people get to share their story, too, or get inspired. The audience sings along. It’s like creating a community.
You say they look for their roots. Are they mostly a Jewish audience or not?
Mostly not Jewish.
What was the biggest audience you have performed for?
Some 15,000 people in the Netherlands.
Impressive! When I think of Ladino concerts, I imagine much smaller, intimate settings. Do people know that Ladino is a Jewish language?
I think so. It’s communicated in the text that promotes the show.
Did the ongoing war have an impact on your work? Antisemitism has grown all over the world…
Some organizers didn’t want to book new concerts. I even lost a tour. I was supposed to do a tour in Chile, but it was canceled. They asked me to go on social media and renounce the Israeli government. I said ‘no,’ even though I disagree with [the government]. But I think renouncing the government at this point would create more antisemitism. So I didn’t do it. I said no, and I lost nine concerts.
But it’s not the audience that has a problem, it’s the organizers. I haven’t encountered any negative comments from audience members throughout the entire time. So the audience is there to stay.
Apart from singing and playing piano, you often also play the trombone, an instrument you have studied since you were nine. Even though it is not a traditional instrument for Ladino music, you incorporate it into your music.
It is very natural for me to pick up a trombone and play. Sometimes people tell me that it is not traditional, but I don’t mind it; I prefer to be myself.
What were your dreams when you were growing up in Beersheba?
I grew up in a culture that didn’t empower women. I was told that I was not allowed to do many things because I was a girl, and it didn’t sound right to me even when I was a kid. I always wanted more. I guess that’s one thing that led me to empower myself. I also wanted to help my friends, who were treated similarly.
These were also the times before the Internet and the possibility to Google things. I didn’t know about feminists, but I guess we were… I wanted to be a songwriter, but they didn’t teach it back there.
And you are! Touring the world with original songs written in Ladino, including your newest song, ‘Sin Dingun Hijo Varon’ (‘without any sons”), with lyrics based on Middle Age Jewish sources, in the language of your grandmother, and as you say, many women before. After the US, you have shows scheduled in Europe. When will we hear you in Israel?
In June.
Nani Vazana will be appearing in Haifa on June 11 at Offbeat Society; in Tel Aviv on June 12 at Shablul; and on June 14 at the Lehavim Jazz Club in Lehavim. nanimusic.com
