Daniel Barenboim’s trip to Istanbul this week, as well as his concert, attracted solid but limited attention of the Turkish media.

I say “limited” because the media depicted a few “colorful headlines” rather than concentrating on the art, philosophy and politics of the passionate musician.

Some, who owe their existence to catering to three well-known types, reactionaries, wholesale approach, and playing to the stands, focused on who welcomed Barenboim, and how, rather than the musician himself.

Rumors like “if the Jewish congregation in Turkey refuses to sponsor him, then he is such-and-such a person; if it praises him, he is such-and-such a person…” continue to swirl.

Our social reactions are always based upon the reactions of others and because we live as communities, not as individuals, our media has not been able to establish direct links to an artist.

With the exception of some columnists, those angry with Barenboim, those indifferent to him, and those who praised him were almost competing to take sides with certain circles in response to others.

However, it would be beneficial to look at what Barenboim said, what he wanted to do, what he was against, and most importantly, how he managed the problematic relationship between art and politics, especially in the face of the escalating conflict in the Middle East and the loud war drums.

Daniel Barenboim was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina to parents of Jewish descent.

Raised in Argentina until the age of 10, he moved to Israel with his family and grew up there.

His childhood and adolescent years were completely devoted to music.

He started to play the piano at the age of five and gave his first concert at seven. He was labeled a genius when he gave his first recital at age 11.

He has lived in many different countries. He carries his house on his back like a tortoise, so to speak, his homeland in his music.

As a secular Jew and critic, he soon started to question the expansionist policies of the Israeli government.

To those who criticize him, saying: “You are a world-renowned artist, why do you get involved in politics?” he tells them, “It is necessary to see the relationship.”

Everything is related to everything else. Art cannot be completely excluded from politics; similarly, artists must not turn a blind eye to the injustices in the world.

The turning point in Barenboim’s life came when he met began to work with Palestinian intellectual Edward Said.

Said is known in Turkey only through one of his works entitled, “Orientalism.”

However, Said was more than the book, published in 1979. He was a man of many dimensions.

He was a Renaissance intellectual whose criticisms, self- criticisms, writing in various disciplines like music, philosophy and politics must be heeded.

Said’s versatility and courage made an impression on Barenboim.

Their common ideal as well as their steadfast friendship lasted many years, and helped this Jewish musician and Palestinian intellectual to really understand each other’s worlds and fears, and to question the generalizations and also the prejudices against “the other.”

They believed they could create a common language and, most importantly, open up a new horizon of understanding far from the escalating conflict and discourses of war, in spite of their differences (they did not necessarily agree on every issue).

They set up the East-West Divan Orchestra for this purpose in 1999. Although they were children of people who could not live together, they believed that they could use the medium of music to bring together Arab and Israeli musicians.

08.22.2006