A Moment Of Truth Here

This is for Midnight Rider.
I don't not have much feeling for Santana, but I admire the artist who done one of his album covers.

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Even if I hadn't been a camouflage officer in the Israeli army at the tender age of 16 during the siege of Jerusalem of 1948, I would have been able to tell you that 600 km under the serene mountain of olive trees and terraces of my real estate lurks the most powerful bomb in the world exploding away like there was no tomorrow.

A true citizen of the world, Mati Klarwein did not have strong roots in any one country. Born of Jewish parentage in pre-war Germany, he escaped with his parents, to Palestine, when just two years old, where he later adopted the name Abdul as a gesture of empathy with his Arab neighbours. Growing up as a Westerner in what was then Palestine (later Israel), Mati was always something of an outsider and never knew the comfort of an unchallenged belief system. Perhaps no surprise then that in his work he likes to challenge our assumptions on everything from religion and sexuality to the perceived and the perceived.

Mother nature seems to love being whipped and mutilated by us humanoids and vice versa (otherwise why would she have bothered to create us?) so we take turns whipping and mutilating each other, as they say: He who whips longest laughs last. Nothing else matters, really

Jimi Hendrix

In the fifties, jazz was the exciting music of the moment - Charlie Parker, Miles, MJQ, Gerry Mulligan. But for me, that which I could identify with most was the influence of arab and african music and culture in black american music - the move toward a separate cultural identity, away from the white trash rectangular music. It started with the substituting of christian names by muslim ones. There was Ahmed Abdul Malek on the Oud with his Jazz-Sahara music, and there was Yusef Lateef, experimenting with flutes, reeds, bottles, balloons, home made string instruments and the use of fake arab words. I would spend hours in Paris and Harlem looking for his records. Here's another reverse example - instead of a record album using my painting, I use an album cover photo for my painting.

When the painting was completed I sent Yusef a photo of it and signed it with Abdul Mati Klarwein. He replied promptly with a 'dear bro' letter, saying he would use it as soon as he could for an album cover. Six months later I found myself in N.Y. listening to him play at the Five Spot. During a break I went over to his table and introduced myself. He looked at me with disdain and hardly greeted me. When I told him I was the artist who did the painting he sneered and turned his back to me, resuming his conversation with a friend.

I forgot that love between colors is not always mutual.

Mati Klarwein.

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