For over a decade, a small, independent record label based in Tel Aviv transformed from a passion project among four friends into an internationally recognized bastion of musical archaeology. Fortuna Records, founded by DJs Maor Anava, Tzach Bar, Ariel Tagar, and Yoav Magarizo, dedicated itself to unearthing, restoring, and reissuing forgotten gems of the Israeli and Middle Eastern music scenes. By digging through dusty bins and dusty archives, they brought sounds from the 1950s, 60s, and 70s—music that had long been relegated to the footnotes of history—back into the ears of contemporary listeners.
However, in the shadow of the ongoing geopolitical crisis, this musical project has ground to a halt. What began as an obsession with the "lost" sounds of the Levant has, in the current climate of intense polarization, become a victim of the very geography it once sought to bridge through melody.
The Genesis: An Obsession Born in a Second-Hand Shop
The story of Fortuna Records began in 2012 in the backrooms of Tel Aviv’s vinyl stores. It was here that the four founders stumbled upon a rare 1970 album by Tsvia Abarbanel, a singer of Yemeni descent. The record, Wings of Love, was a peculiar, mesmerizing hybrid—a fusion of traditional Yemeni folk melodies with the emerging currents of global jazz and funk.
At the time of its original release, Abarbanel’s work had garnered only modest attention before fading into obscurity. For Anava, Bar, Tagar, and Magarizo, the discovery was nothing short of an epiphany. It provided the spark for what they would later describe as a "crazy obsession": a mission to rescue music that had fallen through the cracks of commercial success, vanished due to small pressings, or simply been forgotten by an industry that had historically prioritized Western-leaning or mainstream tastes.
The founders were not strangers to the pulse of Tel Aviv’s underground scene. By 2010, they had already helped establish Teder.fm, a nomadic radio project that eventually anchored itself in Beit Romano. This historic building, constructed in the International Style, became a central nervous system for Tel Aviv’s nightlife, and by extension, the headquarters for the Fortuna project.
The Philosophy of Musical Archaeology
To understand Fortuna Records, one must understand the socio-cultural landscape of Israel between 1950 and 1980. The founders observed that the mainstream musical output of that era was heavily influenced by the cultural roots of the immigrant population—predominantly European or North African. Anything that deviated from these established lines, or dared to bridge disparate worlds, was often dismissed.
"We saw ourselves as musical archaeologists," the founders explained in interviews. Their work was not merely about slapping a new label on an old disc; it was about contextualizing the history of these artists. They sought to tell the stories of people like Tsvia Abarbanel, who had immigrated to Israel as a child, moved to Los Angeles to study art, and was subsequently exposed to the depths of American Soul and Funk. Her collaboration with saxophonist Albert Piamenta—a giant of the Israeli jazz scene—to modernize her native Yemeni songs was a precursor to the global fusion sounds that would only become popular decades later.
Chronology of Key Releases
The label’s catalog serves as a roadmap to the "lost" sound of the Levant:
- The Jazz Workshop (1971): Reissued as Mezare Israel Yekabtzenu, this album is widely considered the first instrumental jazz record ever produced in Israel. Featuring Albert Piamenta, Danny Gottfried, Teddy Kling, and Jerry Gravel, the work blends US jazz structures with distinctively oriental melodic phrasing. It was a failure in the 70s but a revelation for the 2010s jazz scene.
- Grazia (1978): The self-titled album by the then 16-year-old singer Grazia is a testament to the era’s "disco fever." By blending traditional Turkish and Greek wedding music with synthesizers and disco rhythms, Grazia created a sound that was too "oriental" for disco purists and too modern for traditionalists. Fortuna brought this cult classic back to light, validating it as a high-value collector’s item.
- Ihsan Al-Munzer: Perhaps the label’s most ambitious project involved the Lebanese composer and keyboardist Ihsan Al-Munzer. By the mid-2010s, Fortuna had tracked down Al-Munzer, who had previously worked with the legendary Lebanese singer Fairuz. The label worked to remaster his work, intending to release a compilation titled Voix de L’Oriente.
The Political Reality: When Music Becomes a Liability
The attempt to release the works of Ihsan Al-Munzer highlights the extreme volatility of operating a label that relies on cross-border cultural exchange. When news of the project spread in Lebanon, it triggered a significant backlash. Al-Munzer was accused of "collaboration" with Israelis—a charge that carries severe social and political consequences in the region.
To protect the aging musician, Fortuna Records took the difficult decision to shelve the project entirely. This incident served as a sobering reminder that, in the Middle East, cultural production is rarely separated from the political friction of the state.
Implications: The Post-October 7th Stasis
The most significant turning point for the label arrived on October 7, 2023, following the Hamas-led attacks on Israel and the subsequent war in Gaza. The impact on Fortuna was immediate and devastating.
For six years, the Fortuna DJs had been a fixture on the British internet radio station NTS, fostering a relationship that bridged the gap between Tel Aviv and the global music community. In the immediate aftermath of the war’s outbreak, this connection was severed. The label’s residency was canceled without replacement, reflecting the wider, rapid polarization of the cultural sector.
The label has since entered a state of indefinite stasis. No new albums of Middle Eastern music have been released since 2023. The founders have shifted their focus to local DJ sets in Tel Aviv, retreating from the international stage they had spent years cultivating.
"The whole thing was supposed to be fun, to give us a romantic kick," the founders remarked in a recent interview with Haaretz. "It was never about making a fortune. We thought it would be better to stop for a while until the storm passes, but it doesn’t seem to be passing."
Conclusion: The Cost of Polarization
The story of Fortuna Records is a microcosm of the broader tragedy in the Middle East. It illustrates how the potential for shared cultural understanding—a "Levantine" identity expressed through shared grooves and melodies—is frequently suffocated by the realities of conflict.
By digging up the past, Fortuna Records proved that the region’s musical history is far more interconnected than its current political boundaries suggest. Yet, the fact that a label dedicated to the preservation of cultural beauty has been forced into silence underscores a painful reality: when the political climate turns to fire, the nuances of art are often the first things to be reduced to ash. For now, the "lost" music remains in the vaults, and the groove of the Levant waits for a time when the political storm finally breaks.
