Can one separate the art from the artist when troubling actions conflict with your values?
By Motti Verses
For years, the music of Oliver Shanti was mainly part of my mornings. His 1996 album Well Balanced, perhaps his most iconic work, blended atmospheric melodies, Tibetan influences, and meditative world music into something that felt almost spiritual. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, his music became deeply associated across Europe with yoga, tai chi, meditation, and relaxation.
Shanti’s soft rhythms and calming soundscapes created a sense of peace that stayed with me long on my way to work. There was something almost healing in the atmosphere he built. Music that seemed disconnected from noise, aggression, and darkness. For years, I woke up to it at 7 o’clock each morning.
But sometimes art and the artist collide in a way that changes everything.
Oliver Shanti, whose real name was Ulrich Schulz, was convicted in Germany two decades ago for serious child sexual abuse crimes involving minors. When I discovered the full story behind the man whose music had accompanied so many quiet moments in my life, I felt a profound internal conflict. It was shocking.
How could music that sounded so spiritual come from someone capable of causing such harm?
For a while, I tried separating the music from the man. Many of my friends argued that art should stand on its own. And honestly, part of me wanted to keep holding onto those melodies because they were connected to memories, emotions, and years of my life.
Eventually I realized I could no longer disconnect the beauty of the sound from the reality behind it. Every song began carrying a shadow I could not ignore. What once felt peaceful no longer felt innocent.
So, I made a personal decision to stop listening to his music.
Fast forward to 2026.
A confession: I have loved FC Barcelona for almost 40 years. Long before football became a global industry driven by endless money and marketing, Barça already felt different to me. It was never only about trophies. It was about style, emotion, identity, and the feeling that football could still be beautiful.
I grew up watching generations of players who played with imagination and soul. In stadiums in Spain as well as other cities across Europe, but mostly on TV. From the influence of Johan Cruyff to Ronaldinho’s joy, Messi’s genius, and now the rise of young talents like Lamine Yamal. Through glorious victories and painful defeats, Barcelona remained part of my life because supporting this club always felt like something bigger than football. It felt like belonging to a story, a culture, and a dream that lasted across generations.
Then came another emotional conflict.
During Barcelona’s recent championship celebrations a few days ago, images circulated showing Lamine Yamal posing with a Palestinian flag among supporters and celebrations. For some fans, it was viewed as a gesture of solidarity with Palestinians – but for me – emotionally affected by the trauma of October 7, and the atrocities committed by Hamas – the image felt painful, political, and deeply uncomfortable.
That is where another dilemma begins.
I have supported FC Barcelona for decades. The club is connected to memories, identity, emotions, friendships, and entire chapters of my life. Then suddenly, a young player, the current symbol of the club who may likely endure for a long time, became associated, at least emotionally in my eyes, with a political symbol that hurts me deeply.
It created an inner conflict between love for the club and discomfort with what I saw.
Of course, becoming a Barça fan and remaining one does not mean agreeing with every political gesture made by every player. Football clubs are enormous global institutions filled with people from different countries, backgrounds, religions, and political beliefs. But this one felt different.
So perhaps the real question is not: “Should I stop being a Barcelona fan?”
Maybe the deeper question is:
“Can I emotionally separate my lifelong connection to the club from one political moment involving the current mega star?”
Unlike the Oliver Shanti story, this situation is fundamentally different. One involved horrific criminal acts against children. The other involves political expression, symbolism, identity, and the emotions these subjects awaken in so many people, wherever they are.
Logically, I understand the difference.
Emotionally, it is far more complicated.
What will I feel the next time I watch Lamine Yamal playing for Spain during the upcoming summer FIFA World Cup? A national team representing a country where public attitudes toward Israel have often felt increasingly hostile and uncomfortable to many Israelis and Jews.
After a few days came the team reaction: FC Barcelona officially tried to distance itself from the incident, without attacking Lamine Yamal personally. The club’s message was essentially:
Yamal acted on his own, not on behalf of Barça.
The gesture was spontaneous and not coordinated by the club. Barcelona would not feature the flag moment in official highlight broadcasts or club media. The club acknowledged that many Israeli fans were upset and its response emphasized values of respect and inclusion.
I am relieved, but is the dilemma history?
I have a feeling it is not.
Time will tell.
*Feature picture: Ulrich Schulz and Lamine Yamal – The Shanti Soundtrack of Yamal dilemma (photo generated by AI).
About the writer:
The author is a seasoned hotel expert, traveler, writer, and videographer, and formerly served as Head of Public Relations for Hilton Hotels & Resorts in Israel. Today, as a travel writer and hospitality trends analyst, his insights and experiences are regularly featured in leading Israeli media outlets.
While the mission of Lay of the Land (LotL) is to provide a wide and diverse perspective of affairs in Israel, the Middle East and the Jewish world, the opinions, beliefs and viewpoints expressed by its various writers are not necessarily ones of the owners and management of LOTL but of the writers themselves. LotL endeavours to the best of its ability to credit the use of all known photographs to the photographer and/or owner of such photographs (0&EO).
