Yaniv Adrian Amoday

Yehuda Poliker, one of Israel’s musical giants – in a retrospective meeting of his own life – stares calmly into the camera; sometimes with longing, sometimes with regret, but mostly lovingly. He watches rare archival footage, some of which are never before seen family home-videos. At times, he joins in on the guitar, accompanying that same stuttering, insecure young man looking back at him from the screen, or his parents singing Greek songs, and sometimes, he just sits silently and reminisces. In conversation between then and now, in conversation with his friend for the past 40 years, Eti Aneta Segev, images from Poliker’s life join one another, while his touching music plays in the background. The images spark memories that transport us freely between the different junctures of his life.

Yehuda Poliker, one of Israel’s musical giants – in a retrospective meeting of his own life – stares calmly into the camera; sometimes with longing, sometimes with regret, but mostly lovingly. He watches rare archival footage, some of which are never before seen family home-videos. At times, he joins in on the guitar, accompanying that same stuttering, insecure young man looking back at him from the screen, or his parents singing Greek songs, and sometimes, he just sits silently and reminisces. In conversation between then and now, in conversation with his friend for the past 40 years, Eti Aneta Segev, images from Poliker’s life join one another, while his touching music plays in the background. The images spark memories that transport us freely between the different junctures of his life.