May 9, 2025
4 min
The Artist's Way
A summary of TJF Talks Episode #103 with guest Rami Feinstein
Rami Feinstein, an Israeli singer-songwriter now based in Akron, Ohio, speaks candidly about the intersection of his art and Jewish identity following the devastating events of October 7th. Rami’s journey is not just one of geographical relocation, but a deep emotional shift in purpose and connection.
“We were attacked on October 7, obviously,” Rami begins, the anguish clear in his voice. “Then I think we all know that we were attacked again.” This second attack he describes isn’t physical but emotional, a societal backlash that compounded his initial pain. “My heart is in a different place, and I am aching, angry, and frustrated. I don’t sleep well. I don’t function well.”
This deep-seated unrest has reshaped his artistic ambitions entirely. Before October 7th, Rami dreamed of universal acclaim, perhaps performing at major festivals like Coachella. “My dreams have changed,” he reflects somberly. Now, his desire is simpler yet profound: “I just want to sing and talk and engage and hug people who get it.”
Hosts Lio and Seth immediately recognize Rami’s sentiment. Lio acknowledges the fatigue surrounding discussions of antisemitism: “Maybe people are just tired of talking about this every day.” Yet, the dialogue they create remains crucial. Seth, too, feels the exhaustion around the term “antisemitism,” likening it to “going into an uncomfortable room that smells really bad.”
“We’re in this together. We need to support each other and be loud together. This only comes from understanding that we have the same fate.” -Rami Feinstein
Rami ’s artistic mission today is focused and intentional. “Right now, being an artist and being a Jew are combined,” he says. “Everything I do now is about empowering people and making them feel less alone.”
Rami shares a vivid example of this newfound artistic direction from a recent performance in Fort Myers, Florida. The concert coincided tragically with the return of coffins of the Bebas family from Israel, turning the event into a profound collective mourning. “My music became a platform for people to express deep sadness,” Rami recounts emotionally. “We cried together, we hugged together — this is what I want to do right now.”
Yet Rami does not shy away from confronting antisemitism directly. Recounting an incident in Asheville, North Carolina,Rami performed at the house of a Jewish activist who had recently been physically attacked at a pro-Palestinian rally. “Jews who came to my concert were afraid,” Rami says, illustrating the fear and isolation many currently feel. His performances have become vital spaces for emotional and communal healing.
Seth pushes Rami to articulate his ultimate aim: “Who does your message reach?” Rami emphasizes that his art isn’t just a platform for shared sorrow but also a beacon of moral clarity. He sees a crisis of morality where even well-meaning individuals struggle to discern right from wrong. “People say ‘both sides’ — to me, that’s moral confusion,” he states firmly.
Lio poses a question about the broader implications of these small but poignant gatherings: “Are we just creating a safe space for victims, or are we changing the tides?” Rami responds pragmatically: “We stick together, empower each other, and give each other strength to face the outside world.”
Rami repeatedly stresses the importance of Jewish unity, despite internal disagreements: “The discourse we’re having is very painful. We demonize each other, providing weapons to our haters.” He passionately advocates for dialogue even when it’s difficult. “I make it my business to be friends with people I strongly disagree with,” Rami explains, understanding that unity within diversity is the core of his Jewish identity.
However, Rami remains wary of overly simplistic solutions to antisemitism. He firmly rejects the notion that Jews are responsible for the hate directed at them. “We’re not responsible for all the evil in the world,” he argues. “We are responsible to fight it and show the light.”
Seth and Lio challenge Rami to consider a deeper, almost metaphysical dimension to Jewish unity and its impact on humanity. They propose that Jewish unity and dialogue have inherent power to influence the world positively, and that neglecting these responsibilities can exacerbate antisemitism.
Rami appreciates their optimism but maintains a cautious realism. “I don’t put the entire fate of the Jewish people on my shoulders,” he says. His motivation is more personal and immediate: “When my grandson asks me what I did during these times, I don’t want to be ashamed.”
Despite their philosophical nuances, all three agree on the power and necessity of unity and dialogue. Rami’s final reflection encapsulates his outlook: “We’re in this together. We need to support each other and be loud together. This only comes from understanding that we have the same fate.”
Through music, activism, and open dialogue, Rami’s journey from personal turmoil toward collective empowerment reveals the strength and resilience within shared experiences. His artistry isn’t just a career — it’s a testament to the profound human need for connection and solidarity in the face of adversity.
Despite their own weariness, both hosts emphasize the significance of their discussions, highlighting the podcast’s unique ability to gather diverse Jewish as well as non-Jewish voices. Seth explains their purpose succinctly: “We need to find people and speak to people who have really strong visions about a good future and how to build that.”
Rami , deeply connected to his Jewish identity, echoes this sentiment through his art and community activism. Originally in Akron for a performance, Rami now serves as a shaliyah — an emissary — for the local Jewish community. His role has expanded beyond traditional performances. Recently, Rami orchestrated a unique musical mission: he led a diverse group of artists from Akron, including non-Jewish musicians, to Israel to perform for communities impacted by trauma.
“There hasn’t been a group from another city like this — artists, Jews and non-Jews — to support Israel,” Rami proudly states. The group performed in front of evacuees, wounded soldiers, and at symbolic locations, turning music into a powerful expression of solidarity.
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Rami Feinstein, an Israeli singer-songwriter now based in Akron, Ohio, speaks candidly about the intersection of his art and Jewish identity following the devastating events of October 7th. Rami’s journey is not just one of geographical relocation, but a deep emotional shift in purpose and connection.
“We were attacked on October 7, obviously,” Rami begins, the anguish clear in his voice. “Then I think we all know that we were attacked again.” This second attack he describes isn’t physical but emotional, a societal backlash that compounded his initial pain. “My heart is in a different place, and I am aching, angry, and frustrated. I don’t sleep well. I don’t function well.”
This deep-seated unrest has reshaped his artistic ambitions entirely. Before October 7th, Rami dreamed of universal acclaim, perhaps performing at major festivals like Coachella. “My dreams have changed,” he reflects somberly. Now, his desire is simpler yet profound: “I just want to sing and talk and engage and hug people who get it.”
Hosts Lio and Seth immediately recognize Rami’s sentiment. Lio acknowledges the fatigue surrounding discussions of antisemitism: “Maybe people are just tired of talking about this every day.” Yet, the dialogue they create remains crucial. Seth, too, feels the exhaustion around the term “antisemitism,” likening it to “going into an uncomfortable room that smells really bad.”
“We’re in this together. We need to support each other and be loud together. This only comes from understanding that we have the same fate.” -Rami Feinstein
Rami ’s artistic mission today is focused and intentional. “Right now, being an artist and being a Jew are combined,” he says. “Everything I do now is about empowering people and making them feel less alone.”
Rami shares a vivid example of this newfound artistic direction from a recent performance in Fort Myers, Florida. The concert coincided tragically with the return of coffins of the Bebas family from Israel, turning the event into a profound collective mourning. “My music became a platform for people to express deep sadness,” Rami recounts emotionally. “We cried together, we hugged together — this is what I want to do right now.”
Yet Rami does not shy away from confronting antisemitism directly. Recounting an incident in Asheville, North Carolina,Rami performed at the house of a Jewish activist who had recently been physically attacked at a pro-Palestinian rally. “Jews who came to my concert were afraid,” Rami says, illustrating the fear and isolation many currently feel. His performances have become vital spaces for emotional and communal healing.
Seth pushes Rami to articulate his ultimate aim: “Who does your message reach?” Rami emphasizes that his art isn’t just a platform for shared sorrow but also a beacon of moral clarity. He sees a crisis of morality where even well-meaning individuals struggle to discern right from wrong. “People say ‘both sides’ — to me, that’s moral confusion,” he states firmly.
Lio poses a question about the broader implications of these small but poignant gatherings: “Are we just creating a safe space for victims, or are we changing the tides?” Rami responds pragmatically: “We stick together, empower each other, and give each other strength to face the outside world.”
Rami repeatedly stresses the importance of Jewish unity, despite internal disagreements: “The discourse we’re having is very painful. We demonize each other, providing weapons to our haters.” He passionately advocates for dialogue even when it’s difficult. “I make it my business to be friends with people I strongly disagree with,” Rami explains, understanding that unity within diversity is the core of his Jewish identity.
However, Rami remains wary of overly simplistic solutions to antisemitism. He firmly rejects the notion that Jews are responsible for the hate directed at them. “We’re not responsible for all the evil in the world,” he argues. “We are responsible to fight it and show the light.”
Seth and Lio challenge Rami to consider a deeper, almost metaphysical dimension to Jewish unity and its impact on humanity. They propose that Jewish unity and dialogue have inherent power to influence the world positively, and that neglecting these responsibilities can exacerbate antisemitism.
Rami appreciates their optimism but maintains a cautious realism. “I don’t put the entire fate of the Jewish people on my shoulders,” he says. His motivation is more personal and immediate: “When my grandson asks me what I did during these times, I don’t want to be ashamed.”
Despite their philosophical nuances, all three agree on the power and necessity of unity and dialogue. Rami’s final reflection encapsulates his outlook: “We’re in this together. We need to support each other and be loud together. This only comes from understanding that we have the same fate.”
Through music, activism, and open dialogue, Rami’s journey from personal turmoil toward collective empowerment reveals the strength and resilience within shared experiences. His artistry isn’t just a career — it’s a testament to the profound human need for connection and solidarity in the face of adversity.
Despite their own weariness, both hosts emphasize the significance of their discussions, highlighting the podcast’s unique ability to gather diverse Jewish as well as non-Jewish voices. Seth explains their purpose succinctly: “We need to find people and speak to people who have really strong visions about a good future and how to build that.”
Rami , deeply connected to his Jewish identity, echoes this sentiment through his art and community activism. Originally in Akron for a performance, Rami now serves as a shaliyah — an emissary — for the local Jewish community. His role has expanded beyond traditional performances. Recently, Rami orchestrated a unique musical mission: he led a diverse group of artists from Akron, including non-Jewish musicians, to Israel to perform for communities impacted by trauma.
“There hasn’t been a group from another city like this — artists, Jews and non-Jews — to support Israel,” Rami proudly states. The group performed in front of evacuees, wounded soldiers, and at symbolic locations, turning music into a powerful expression of solidarity.
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