Chandigarh, Friday, January 22, 1999
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Chandigarh, Friday, January 22, 1999 |
Pictorial photography his passion By Subhash Sapru “ANY aesthetically pleasing photograph is a pictorial photograph”, was the prompt reply of the President of the Federation of Indian Photography (FIP), Mr Waman Thakre, when asked to explain the term “pictorial” by enthusiastic photographers at the recently held 19th convention of the FIP at Chandigarh. Determined film-maker |
Aayi jhoom ke Basant... A trendsetter in villainous acting |
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Pictorial
photography his passion “ANY aesthetically pleasing photograph is a pictorial photograph”, was the prompt reply of the President of the Federation of Indian Photography (FIP), Mr Waman Thakre, when asked to explain the term “pictorial” by enthusiastic photographers at the recently held 19th convention of the FIP at Chandigarh. But when asked whether the placing of the subject, light effects and, above all, cropping of disturbing objects in the picture are so necessary that these are followed like a formula to add to the beauty of the “pictorial” photograph, he made a counter-question, “Why do even beautiful girls use makeup, people wear matching neck-ties or bear the kind of moustaches that suite their face?” He also added that a lot can be done in the darkroom to make the photograph a real pictorial wonder that would please every beholder. Pictorial photography has been a passion for a Chandigarh-based photo artist, Deep Ram Bhatia, who has been continuously experimenting for the past 10 years in various darkroom techniques like posterisation, solarisation, bass relief, live image and litho-panning in his own darkroom set up at his residence to improve his photographs. However, he got recognition for his works in posterisation. A recipient of licenciateship by the India International Photographic Council (IIPC) in 1991 in recognition of his outstanding performance in the field of photography, he has to his credit over 225 acceptances in national and international photo exhibitions, besides 50 awards in national and regional exhibitions. The recently concluded India Print Circuit conducted by the IIPC with the approved practices of the Photographic Society of America has brought him 19 acceptances in the pictorial section of this circuit of six international exhibitions. Deep Ram has been infusing a new life in his images through his imagination and creative ability as his creative mind is always engaged in improving his photographic skill, which has become his passion. His artistic ability to capture the spirit of the subject is unmatched and so is his sense of expression that has uncanny freshness. Immensely sensitive and deeply aware of his surroundings, Deep Ram was born and brought up in the hilly area of Solan district in Himachal Pradesh in 1955. Initially, he developed a liking for painting to give expression to his thoughts in oil on canvas, but the artist in him tempted him to see through the lens to make the images more creative with various in-camera and darkroom techniques. He, therefore, took to photography in 1986 and that very year one of his coloured photographs brought him an award, which proved a stepping stone for him. A post-graduate in economics, Deep Ram has no formal training in photography, but has been inspired by the works of well-known photographers and photo artists like O.P. Sharma, S.P. Sharma, B.H. Kapadia and Vijay Ozo. Deep Ram was among the top 10 exhibitors of the IIPC and the FIP in 1991. He has also been a judge for some of the national and international salons of photography and has conducted two workshops on various creative techniques of photography for students of the Government College of Arts, Chandigarh. He has also conducted workshops on partial bass relief, live image and posterisation, besides delivering talks on various photographic techniques. Although he also likes colour photography, he has developed an innate passion for black and white photography. He does not agree with those who say that God has created a colourful world, therefore one should capture its true colours through colour films only. Humble and soft-spoken,
Deep Ram is always prepared to share his experiences with
others. He is the founder General Secretary of the
Photographic Society of Chandigarh, set up to promote the
art of photography in the region. At present, he is
working with the Labour Bureau, Government of India, at
Chandigarh and his touring job provides him ample
opportunities to pursue his hobby of photography. |
Determined
film-maker VEENA KAPOOR. Like a soft caress she whispers her name. As I delve into the spellings of her surname (with a “u” or double “o”) she smiles disarmingly, “Oh, the poor one”. Poor indeed! In fact, the Kapoor tag betrays an intimate association with the illustrious Kapoor “khandaan”. For she happens to be the daughter-in-law of late actor Trilok Kapoor (famous for his characterisations of religious idols, Lord Shiva being most notable) who incidentally was the brother of legendary Prithviraj Kapoor. However, life hasn’t been a bed of roses — more like a roller-coaster ride — for this determined film-maker whose special forte happens to be quickies (50 odd public welfare films) espousing social causes. She insists, “Being a member of the first family of Bollywood doesn’t automatically open all doors. Kapoor title is not a magic wand. Ultimately, each one of us has to fight his her battles alone”. Of course being a Kapoor “bahu” had its payoffs as well. For instance, learning was a strictly in-house “within-the-family” affair. Working in tandem with her other half — director producer Vijay Kapoor of the film “Call Girl” fame — for years Veena was like a sponge and simply allowed the techniques of film-making to permeate her mind. After her husband’s tragic demise she emerged as an independent entity and went on to complete her spouse’s unfinished telefilm “Aakansha” starring Supriya Pathak and Abhinav Chaturvedi. A laudable effort which missed the Moscow Film Festival by a whisker. Thereafter she got an opportunity to peep into the life of yesteryear’s reigning cinestar Devika Rani. During the making of the 40-minute documentary she was appalled by the plight of a woman trapped in a “web of loneliness”. Veena remarks, “Devika had all the riches in the world, but the prized jewel, love, was missing.” Refuting the suggestion that “women alone are overwhelmed by emotions”, she, however, tries her utmost to incorporate the finer sentiments in her otherwise insipid subjects like blood donation, AIDS, leprosy etc. Why, she even converted a film on Haryana transport into docudrama! For those casting aspersions on the creative possibilities of quickies, she retorts furiously, “Here one has to communicate, and, effectively at that, in a span of few minutes. So one needs to put on all thinking caps, utilise all creative inputs to make an impact.” Point taken. But is her affair with larger-than-life celluloid screen over? As of now she is not willing to take chances for “the stakes involved in film-making are far too high”. However, avenues on the small screen are enough to satiate her creative thirst. Already a pilot on a suspense-thriller “Kaheen Yeh Woh To Nahin” shot in Chandigarh (she continues to shuttle between Chandigarh and Bombay) is nearing completion. (Then this multifaceted woman has already penned several scripts — partly biographical, part vicarious learning. She observes, “Interacting with children of lesser God is such a humbling experience. When a child afflicted with polio, on all fours, can find a reason to smile, we fortunate ones needn’t fret and fume about trivialities.” So also on the cards are
one-liner philosophical messages encapsulating the
essence of life. She is spurred on by a keen desire to
share the life sustenance forces of optimism and hope
which incidentally is also the raison detre of her own
being. |
Aayi jhoom
ke Basant... WINTER’S grey gives way to new colours. The sky is blue again. White, pink, red, yellow and violent flowers peep forth. Oh, it is Basant time! Pleasing are all these and other colours. But which is the most pleasing of them all? According to a “Raja aur Runk” song: Dharti ka hai aanchal peela, Jhoome amber neela, neela, Sab rangon se hai rangeela, Rang basanti... Of many kinds are the yellow flowers. But the mustard, in full bloom around Basant Panchami, is symbolic of both the season and the festival. This is why the yellow of mustard flowers is called basanti. So profuse are the flowers that the fields seem to be rippling with gold. The colour has pride of place in Basant songs, old and new, folk and filmi. There is something more too. In the “Raja aur Runk” song, the man guy gushes not only over the colour, but also the cute look of the flowers. To him his beloved’s face seems to have the same floral charm: Dil mera le gaya hai, Yeh tera roop, gori, Sarson ke phoolon jaisa... In the springtime a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love, says Tennyson. But so does a young woman’s. Just listen to this girl, urging her lover to come home: Aaj kal parson, Jab phoolegi sarson, Sajan ghar aa jana... And to this girl the yellow of mustard reminds, by contrast, the darkish complexion of her lover. However to her the dusky hue is no demerit. Rather, it has its own fascination: Sarson peeli, dhaan sunhaile, Sajan mera sanwariya ho... In a “Shaheed” (Manoj Kumar’s) song, the girl says that more than the sun, the moon or the stars, what delights her most is the sight of her lover. Then joy blossoms in her heart as does the mustard in a field: Chanda bhi dekha, taare bhi dekhe, Dekha suraj barson, Par jis din se tujh ko dekha, Man mein phooli sarson... In another song from the same film, basanti becomes a colour of desh bhakti. Mera rang de basanti chola... sings the hero. The idea recurs in an “Upkar” (also Manoj Kumar’s) song: Rang bana basanti Bhagat Singh... Hindi movies have given us quite a few hummable Basant songs. But for some years there has been no such song of the season or of love and longing at its coming. Tastes and trends change. However, in quite many recent pictures love songs — rather, bits or snatches of such songs — have been shot in mustard fields. Among the films are “Dilwale Dulhania le Jayenge”, “Pyar to Hona hi Tha”, “Aa Ab Laut Chalen” and “Arzoo”. The Romans had a goddess of spring, Flora. But we have a god, Vasanta. A “Stri” song hails him as a dashing and colourful male: Basant hai aaya, rangila.... It goes for the season as well. We have the same gender for the season in the Mumtaz Shanti-starrer “Basant” chorus or the title song: Aaya Basant, sakhi, Birha ka ant, sakhi, Ban, ban mein chhai bahar... But in some other songs the season is a female, as in the pre-Partition “Jawani” song: Aayi Basanti ritu madhmati.... So is it in a “Sindoor” (Kishore Sahu’s) song: Basant ritu aayi, Rama, jubna ubhar ke.... Yet another instance is in an “Upkar” song. One of the best, if not the best, Basant songs, this chorus begins with a description of the scene. But not many epithets are used. In fact, a single adjective, peeli — a common enough word — does the job. Its repetition creates a rare effect: Peeli, peeli, sarson phooli, Peeli ude patang, Peeli, peeli ude chunariya, Peeli pagri ke sung... The singer, who is a fakir, asks the people to sink their differences and share with one another the joy of the season. All respond by singing together: Aayi jhoom ke Basant, Jhoomo sung, sung
mein.... |
A
trendsetter in villainous acting UNLIKE traditional villains of Punjabi cinema who are seen riding on horses with guns, chewing dialogues on high pitch, imitating a few Pakistani film characters, Darshan Aulakh, who plays gang leader of abductors, too sets a trend in the latest “Shaheed-e-Mohabbat (Buta Singh)”. When a Muslim girl Zainub (Divya Dutta) hides in Buta’s (Gurdas Maan) fields, a sword: weilding sardar with his gang, arrives on the arena and demands the return of the girl. It transpires that they had kidnapped her from a passing caravan and now want to kill her to avenge the killings of Hindus and Sikhs in Pakistan. The gang leader finally agrees to a bargain and spares her life for an amount of Rs 1,800/-. In a small role, Darshan has fully squeezed his talent and shown promises of changing the image of the villain on Punjabi celluloid. He has already to his credit more than 12 films. In these he has written the script and also acted therein as a villain, cop and wicked man. But a chain of such films await him for changing and improving the standard of acting. On January 17 when Star News flashed the news of the International Film Festival in Hyderabad and clippings of “Shaheed-e-Mohabbat” showed Darshan chasing and negotiating with Gurdas Maan, he received not only compliments but also contracts for new Punjabi films. His role was applauded at the festival also. Darshan as one of the key figures in the production team of “Shaheed-e-Mohabbat”, also toiled day and night in search of a suitable location, atmosphere and property. His past experience in production helped Maan to make the fullest use of the local vast expanse of wheat and mustard fields, bullock carts, camels, brass wares etc to project the real rural Punjabi culture of 1947 with an aesthetic touch. The film already
filtered by critics in at the film festival in Hyderabad
and earlier in Calcutta and now being doubbed in other
languages also, is likely to benefit Darshan in
establishing himself as a new villain at the turn of the
century. And with opening of the Punjabi World channel
and Zee too going Punjabi in the near future, there is a
lot of scope for such talented and committed actors who
wish to set trends.
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In praise of a 13-year-old O, MERI MUNNI (Magna-sound; Rs 60): One has heard songs sung for 16 years old. Even 15 years old. But 13? Rather underage! The only example I can think of is an old couplet: Abhi kamsin ho, nadaan ho, kahin kho dogi dil mera Tumhare hi liye rakha hai, le lena jawan ho kar... And now, Remo Fernandes has sung a similar one for the 13-year-old Munni. No. He does not sing it like a lover but as an observer, so to say, of the feelings and aspirations of someone who has just made a hesitant entry into the teen world. Forget the words. It is a beautiful song, sung in the typical Remo style. The music is infectious, tailor-made for the dance floor. This song was sung by Remo in Chandigarh some time back and if the response during that stage show is any guess, it is bound to make it big. The other seven songs in the cassette are also searing. The most enjoyable are Maya ya …, a folk song from Goa, and Maria pita che ..., another folk song from Damao. In any case, what Remo is singing and composing nowadays is based strongly in the folk traditions and is destined to become folk music in the days to come. Suraj ke saath …, Kuchh chehre jaane se …, and Pakka iraada … are among them. Then there is Indian lady … about the empowerment and liberation of the Indian woman. The most outstanding production is the folk tune on the flute, which comes from Nepal. The music is sheer pleasure. The album cover tells some interesting details about it. “Today, when most Indian pop albums are computer produced or recorded abroad, this one is about a bunch of musicians going into a home studio in a tiny village called Siolim in Goa, and doing just what musicians are supposed to do: play their asses off. This album features no quantized sequencing, no drum machine programming, no artificial note correction, no pre-recorded music loops and samples, not even a metronome,” it says. As if to rub the point, it goes on to add: “All music (has been) played by human beings”. Yes, in the time of tune banks and music synthesisers, that is a welcome reassurance. BREATHLESS (HMV; Rs 60): The title could not be more apt. This album does leave your breathless. If your try to sing along, that is. The title number goes faster than the rap gibberish and here what it being uttered is fabulous poetry of Javed Akhtar! Don’t think that this song could have been recorded at one go. In a recent TV programme Shankar Mahadevan himself admitted that there were breaks during recordings. He then went on to present it live. I happened to time it. He clocked 92 seconds. How big a feat that was can be guessed from the fact that when others tried to sing it — out of tune at that — nobody could go beyond 20 seconds. Mind you, everybody else had the lyrics-sheet of the song. It is there in two versions. In both, the rise and fall of Shankar’s voice is a treat to hear. The second, sad version, titled The Reprise is simply superb. The jacket cover thoughtfully gives the lyrics of these two. It would have been impossible to note these down listening to them. The song is so much out of the ordinary that it is futile to expect that other songs will also rise to that level. Yet, nearly all of them are far, far above average. Tere khayalon se … and Mano ya na mano … have the shadow of film songs. On the other hand, Tu pass hai … and Ghul raha hai sara manzar … have a distinctive stamp of their own. All songs have been composed by Shankar Mahadevan himself. SHAHEED-E-MOHABBAT (Magnasound; Rs 40): If one had not heard the private songs of Gurdas Mann, it would have been much easier to appreciate him while singing film songs. But since he is better known for those songs, it takes quite an effort to reconcile oneself to the restrained style that he has adopted here. So he comes out without flying colours. The surprise performance is that of Asha Bhonsle, whose pronunciation of Punjabi words is so flawless that it is difficult to believe that she is not a native Punjabi. The two quawwalis, one
by the late Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and another by Karaamat
Ali Khan and party are, good. |
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