'Not just about crying': Lior's old love in new times

This is the man who, after all, once wrote a song so sad, so beautiful and so moving, that it's been a wedding staple throughout the two decades since it was released.

He's the man whose modern lullaby, played at the end of the colossally successful ABC kids show Giggle and Hoot each night, has been a balm to the soul of countless Australian children, not to mention their parents.

And now, he's about to perform Compassion at the Canberra International Music Festival, an epic song cycle of ancient Hebrew and Arabic proverbs set to original music. He co-wrote it in 2013 with composer Nigel Westlake, who was going through intense grief at the time.

So, Lior, how does it feel to somehow be able to insert yourself - or at least your music - into some of life's most profound moments?

I feel bad asking; it's been 20 years since Lior Attar's first album, Autumn Flow, exploded into the Australian music landscape. Known from the start by just his first name, Lior is soon to release his sixth record, has done a stint in musical theatre and co-written music for kids' cancer wards. But The Song seems to come up all the time.

This Old Love, the first track on his first album, is about memories, sadness, time passing and growing old together, and it was his first crack at getting through to people.

"I just feel so lucky to have that song," he says.

"I've tried my hand at lots of different things, and I've had really beautiful and engaged audiences. Many of them have followed me through that whole process. And so I know that without that song to open the door, that may not have been possible."

But is it weird to think of your voice being present at so many weddings?

"It's played a lot at weddings, but you know, I've also heard people say that it has been played at funerals," he says.

"I remember when I was performing it back in the day, I had no idea that this song would resonate the way that it did. And I remember I would have, like, 16 year olds coming to the show, and I'd look out and they'd be arm-in-arm singing it, and I thought, they're 16, and this song is talking about growing old together.

"But then it dawned upon me that with the song, I almost accidentally stumbled upon a more universal thing than I realised at the time, and the song was not just about crying, it was about companionship, and loyalty and friendship and all those things."

Lior first met renowned composer Nigel Westlake at the launch of the Westlake family's Smugglers of Light foundation, created in memory of their son, Eli, who was murdered in a road rage incident in 2008.

Westlake had already composed music for several Australian films, including Babe, Miss Potter, Children of the Revolution and The Nugget, as well as the theme for SBS News, but in his profound grief, he was floundering.

For the launch of Smugglers of Light, a foundation to encourage music and film education in Indigenous communities, Westlake asked several artists to perform. Turns out Autumn Flow had been a favourite in the household; Westlake had once bought Eli a copy for Christmas.

Lior performed with the Goldner String Quartet, and ended his set with an a capella version of an ancient Hebrew hymn, Avinu Malkeinu.

"There's a message in it that talks about compassion, and it roughly translates to 'instil me with a greater sense of compassion so that I can be liberated', and I fell in love with that message," Lior says.

Westlake did too; Autumn Flow had already taken on a whole new meaning, and the two artists started talking.

"Through chatting, we dreamed of the idea of working together on an epic orchestration to this hymn, in stark contrast to the way that I had only ever performed it a capella," Lior says.

"It was a seven-minute work, which we presented to the Sydney Symphony. And we thought at best, this would be a short work that they might include in a festival or something. And then they actually came back and said, 'We think this is really powerful, and we'd like to offer you a full 45-minute work commission', which Nigel and I were thrilled about, but had no idea what we were going to do."

They set about creating a song cycle of Hebrew and Arabic proverbs, all with similar messages about the wisdom of compassion.

Born in Israel, Lior moved with his family to Australia when he was a child. He's grown up secular, and doesn't practise any religion. But it's hard not to superimpose a work like Compassion onto what's happening now in Gaza.

Lior points out that the conflict in the Middle East has had multiple flashpoints, even if the latest is singularly horrifying.

"We premiered [Compassion] 10 years ago, and it's had an incredible resonance," he says.

"I remember the night Nigel and I premiered it at the Opera House. We just were stunned by how moved people were ... and since, it's had a lot of play both here and internationally. And people often say, 'The message, it's so relevant to what's happening now'. And I just go, well, it's always going be relevant.

"That's the thing - people are equating the importance, the significance of these texts onto what's happening right now. But we, as humans, always need a reminder of the virtue of compassion and the centrality of it, in the sense of that's what makes us human. And that's the most beautiful part of being human.

"So in a sense, it's kind of easy, because I will always stand behind the message of peace, regardless of what's happening around me."

Although he'd worked steadily through the music industry for the past 20 years, Lior is the first to admit a musician's life isn't always easy.

His first album came about through sheer grit, produced without a backing label, and with money borrowed from friends and family.

"I had a relentless drive, but it wasn't so much to succeed, it was to communicate with people," he says.

"Looking back to Autumn Flow, and why that succeeded, I think it was just, there was a level of authenticity about it, I did it completely independently, there weren't any voices, or I suppose any kind of industry or business aspects that had come into colour any of it, I just tried to write and record the most authentic songs that I could and put them out there. And it was such a blessing to have no expectations on it.

"In fact, I remember my ambition at the time was simply to sell enough CDs so that I could pay the people back that I'd borrowed the money to record the album. And I thought, if I can do that, then I've done well, and in a way, I sort of thought, I'll worry about the future later, because I know that I need to do this for my soul."

He says during his years on the country's stages, the music scene has changed irrevocably, and punters are looking for more and more "personalised" ways to consume their music.

"They want an intimate personal experience, and I think that's part of the reason maybe why some of the 'all you can eat buffet' festivals aren't as appealing as perhaps they used to be," he says.

"It's an interesting time. I mean, with streaming, it's such a great model for the consumer, but it's not for the artists and I think most people are aware of that by now, something we have to face.

"But it's happened, so in a broader sense, artists have sort of become court musicians again. We're there to deliver a largely personalised experience to their audience. And once upon a time that was bound by geography, and now it's bound by taste.

"So I'm quite optimistic about the future of live performance, because AI hasn't managed to replicate that yet."

Lior will perform Compassion at the Snow Concert Hall as part of the Canberra International Music Festival on May 1. The festival runs May 1-5. cimf.org.au.