ARTS TRIBUNE Friday, February 25, 2000, Chandigarh, India
 

Musical journey of a flutist
By Nonika Singh
WRAPPED up in the hype built around the singers, little if any heed is paid to accompanying musicians. Their significance can however be underlined by Surinder Singh, a flute player’s statement as he avers: “A single awry note from the musician can ruin the entire performance, however brilliant the singer might be”.

Winter of love and song
By O.P. Bhagat
MANY of the Hindi film songs are of the seasons. But most of these are about spring, the rains and autumn. In very few summer and winter come in. Why? It may be that, unlike the Sanskrit, Baramasi and folk poets, film song-writers do not see much to pen about in the hot and cold seasons. But there is another reason too.

Plight of cinematographer
By Manisha Rege
THE man who helped in bringing films such as “Maya”, “Hulchul” and “Loafer” to the silver screen, now lives off the road in this city of dreams, a disoriented pauper unable to recognise even his daughter.

A printmaker of merit
By Prem Singh
THE word graphics’ stands for writing or drawing (pictorial and symbolic). The range of expression is from logogram to book-printing, from symbols to artistic prints. It is one of the most powerful and universally practised medium now. Through the nature of its multiplication, a print can reach any number of art lovers.

SIGHT & SOUND
Sight and Sound Amita Malik
It’s simply not cricket
ONE can understand Prasar Bharati’s wild joy following its deal over cricket with Packer. especially as it will bring in some valuable revenue after the rise of cables and diminishing ads. One hopes these astronomical sums will be invested in better programmes outside of sport.
 

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Musical journey of a flutist
By Nonika Singh

WRAPPED up in the hype built around the singers, little if any heed is paid to accompanying musicians. Their significance can however be underlined by Surinder Singh, a flute player’s statement as he avers: “A single awry note from the musician can ruin the entire performance, however brilliant the singer might be”.

The flutist whose fluid notes have embellished over 200 audios, live performances of luminaries like Jagjit Singh and several theatre productions asserts that music is in the mind. All an artiste needs to do is translate the musical graph etched on his mind on to his nimble fingers.

A tall order for an amateur but a child’s play for Surinder who owes his fascination for the instrument to childhood impressions. Proximity to the temple of Lord Krishna, the ultimate flutist, the repeated recitals of Panalal Ghosh on the radio crystallised into an urgent desire to play the North Indian bamboo flute and the resounding thunder of applause accompanying his father’s poetic symposiums whetted his appetite for public adulation.

At the age of 10 he purchased a flute for a few annas and played the chart-buster Reshami salwar kurta zaalidaar... ad infinitum. But his tryst with the baansuri was not confined to filmi tunes — he could play one within the drop of a hat though — as he was initiated into the wonderful world of Hindustani classical music.

Today, his vast repertoire of ragas has held him in good stead. Whereas at solo performances he digs out his personal favourite Des Taj and Gujari Todi, which sound sweeter than the rest, as an accompanying artiste it helps him scale the same pinnacle as celebrity singers.

Whether it is Jagjit Singh, the Mohammed Hussain Ahmed Hussain duo or Pakistani singer Reshma, his musical flight is as smooth as their vocal chords. Matching the musical nuances of dancers of great calibre like Pt Birju Maharaj and Sitara Devi, he admits, is “easier said than ‘played’.” Nevertheless, he believes that hard work alone is the key to difficult onerous situations. Having watched stalwarts like Hari Prasad Chaurasia from close quarters he says, “Such geniuses are born through unswerving determination coupled with unending riyaaz”.

His own odyssey was restricted thanks to a secure but unimaginative government job. Though he got an opportunity to compose music for Amal Allana’s play “Hayadan” way back in 1973, yet his creative flight as a composer was stilted. True he has crafted musical score for theatre directors like Pran Sabharwal and Harish Bhatia, amongst others, given music for over 20 audios and was the musical director for Jalandhar Doordarshan’s popular show “Kachh Diyan Mundra”, still he knows he does not quite figure in the competitive race.

For Rani Balbir Kaur’s production “Shubh Karman Tau Naa Darroon” his flute will provide the background score and travel up to the land of the Big Apple. But such opportunities are few and far between. The ones that come his way are as an accompanying artiste for a horde of audio-musical directors — some good, some bad, some indifferent.

Though he himself is part of the mass production, low on quality but high on popularity music that is being dished out today, he remarks, “Entry of pop music albums is strictly forbidden in my home”. So he refuses to accompany such live shows or performances for he can not bear the thought of being a visible participant of the degenerative music. He rues that today television with an undue emphasis on gyrating visuals has vitiated the musical scene.

Lamenting the fact that no music is being created for the elderly group, he might one fine day undo the anomaly and hopes to weave some for people on the same wavelength. Till then, he is willing to be a listener. Year after year he visits the Harballabh Sangeet Sammelan. Lost in the musical reverie he knows his chance to cast a similar spell at the prestigious venue isn’t too far away.
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Winter of love and song
By O.P. Bhagat

MANY of the Hindi film songs are of the seasons. But most of these are about spring, the rains and autumn. In very few summer and winter come in.

Why? It may be that, unlike the Sanskrit, Baramasi and folk poets, film song-writers do not see much to pen about in the hot and cold seasons. But there is another reason too.

In most of our movies the seasons do not matter much. Even the songs of spring, the rains and autumn are merely fitted in certain situations. Or they are mostly songs of love and longing, or the joy of meeting and the pain of separation against the backdrop of one season or the other.

Hardly has any film story anything to do with the heat of summer or the chill of winter. If at all, it is summer, love blossoms in the cool and green hills or amidst the snowy mountains.

Very few characters in a Bollywood picture wear woollens. Terrycot or at the most terrywool are the common wear. Only a retired colonel or a cranky uncle may be seen in tweeds. Occasionally a servant wears a woollen cap and a muffler. Or a mysterious murderer an overcoat.

Now and then winter occurs in a song of all seasons. But in a few of these it is dropped. Or both winter and summer are out, as in the “Sindoor” song:

Patjhar, sawan, basant, bahar,
Ek baras ke mausam char...

Some movies have different glimpses of winter. The boy and the girl go on an outing. They get separated from their friends or lose their way. Night comes on. It rains and a chilly wind blows.

“In Sharmilee”, while out on an excursion in the hills, the heroine and her friends are caught in a snow storm. They find shelter in an Army camp. There the hero and the heroine have their first meeting. The song that follows is the young officer’s poignant Khilte hain gul yahan....

That old films, “Naujawan”, has the lovely Thundi hawaen... song. No, it is not the cold winds of winter, but the cool breezes of spring when the rut hai jawan

But it is winter which the heroine sings of in a “Ram Teri Ganga Maili” duet. in the nippy air of her native hills:

Husn paharon ka, o sahiba,
Kya kehna baro mahine yahan mausam jaaron ka...

Sung in the cold air on a moonlit night (obviously of winter) is the rhythming and rhyming “Baghi” duet:

Chandni raat hai, tu mere saath hai,
Kuchh hawa sard hai, dil mein bhi dard hai...

In a forgotten horror film, “Purana Mandir”, a lover sings, not once but twice, a song in which he nostalgically recalls:

December ka sama,
Wo bhigi, bhigi sardiyan...

This song can now be heard in Tanya’s pop album, “Dharkan”.

“Hero Hindustani” has a long song in praise of the girl. Among other things, the poet, instead of conventionally likening her to “chaudvin ka chand” or “aftab”, compares her beauty or charm the warm winter sunshine:

Kitna nashila tera roop hai,
Sardi ki mithi mithi dhoop hai...

When the “Main Sundar Hoon” girl sang Mujhe thund lag rahi hai, mujh se door. tu naja..., eyebrows were raised. For in 1971 the film heroine was not expected to be so bold.

But now the Bollywood girls have gone far too far. They will sing or dance to any song. So did the “Raja Babu” heroine when she invitingly chirped: Sarkaye do khatiya, jaara lage...

Just as some other poets have left out summer and winter from their songs of the seasons, Gulzar in “Mausam” duet sing of these two alone. To summer he gives one stanza, and to winter two.

In lines that read like intensely poetic prose, the girl croons:

Jaaron ki, narm dhoop aur, angan mein let kar,
Ankhon pe kheench kar tera, daman ke saye ko,
Aundhe pare rahen kabhi karvat liye hue...

After this the scene shifts to the icy cold of the mountains. But not the less is the warmth of love there:

Barfili sardiyon mein, kisi bhi pahar par,
Wadi mein goonjti hui, khamoshiyan sunen,
Ankhon mein bhige bhige se lamhe liye hue...

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Plight of cinematographer
By Manisha Rege

THE man who helped in bringing films such as “Maya”, “Hulchul” and “Loafer” to the silver screen, now lives off the road in this city of dreams, a disoriented pauper unable to recognise even his daughter.

Duped by those he considered his own, 81-year-old Rajendra Malone, a leading cinematographer of Mumbai’s film industry in the ‘60s and ‘70s, lives with his daughter Mridula in a dusty, vacant plot in Andheri, a far cry from his plush flat in Dhake Colony nearby.

Mridula says they sold the flat in 1997 as her father was unwell and required money for treatment. He stopped getting work in the late ‘80s after age caught up with him and his eyesight began to fail.

Both father and daughter wanted to shift to Pune and Malone’s secretary Rajesh Nath, who was with him for two decades, said he would bring the sale amount of Rs 18 lakh to Pune. Today, Nath refuses to even recognise his former superior, Mridula says.

When they went to Pune, their relatives turned their backs on the duo and even refused to return the money they had taken from Mridula.

Mridula has been living hand-to-mouth for the past couple of months taking care of her father with the help of Pratap Sagar, Malone’s friend. Malone filmed several mega-budget films in the black and white era, including B.R. Chopra’s “Afsana” featuring Ashok Kumar and Bina Rai, “Maya” with Dev Anand and Mala Sinha and “Shama Parvana” starring Shammi Kapoor. His was known as the Malone style of lighting.

However, after colour came to the silver screen, Malone stopped getting work. But sometime later he filmed Dharmendra’s “Loafer”, O.P. Ralhan’s “Hulchul”, films such as “Paapi”, “Pyaas” and “Dhanwaan”. “Awara Baap”, featuring Rajesh Khanna and Meenakshi Sheshadri, was his last film.

Mridula laments that the film industry has not come to her father’s aid.

Meanwhile, in a statement issued here recently, Cultural Affairs Minister Ramkrishna More has announced a honorarium of Rs 500 per month to Malone, in his capacity as senior artiste, under a scheme implemented by the Cultural Affairs Ministry. — UNI
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A printmaker of merit
By Prem Singh

THE word graphics’ stands for writing or drawing (pictorial and symbolic). The range of expression is from logogram to book-printing, from symbols to artistic prints. It is one of the most powerful and universally practised medium now. Through the nature of its multiplication, a print can reach any number of art lovers.

Graphics, as a medium of producing artistic prints, is very popular with artists in India also. The art schools set up by the British in the 19th century in Calcutta, Bombay, Madras and Lahore trained students in the art of printmaking.

The Government College of Art, Chandigarh, is perhaps the first institution, which started an independent course in graphics (printmaking). Nirmal Parkash is one of the artists who has been trained as a printmaker at this college. He is now on the faculty and producing interesting artistic prints. In 1990 his print was included in the 34th National Exhibition of Art, LKA, New Delhi. His participation in a few workshops in printmaking enhanced his knowledge further.

Over a period of 12 years, he has produced a set of 60 artistic prints, which he now plans to share with lovers of art. He has worked in serigraphy, etching, lithography, wood-cut and offset process and skilfully manipulated the incisional possibilities of the surface in registering his artistic expressions. The amazing variety of textures and tones that he has been able to secure in his prints manifest his understanding of the methods and materials at his command. The careful selection of the rollers of different density and the inks testify his involvement with the medium. The fragmentary observation of nature and life reflects in the juxtaposition of the images in his prints. Nirmal’s imagery is verily animated.

The abstraction in his prints is born out of the continuous process of image-making that he has been involved in for a long time. The visual stimuli have been translated into powerful expressions through an imaginative use of line, form and texture. Nirmal is slowly and steadily asserting his identity as a printmaker in the field of graphics in this region.
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Sight and Sound Amita Malik
It’s simply not cricket

ONE can understand Prasar Bharati’s wild joy following its deal over cricket with Packer. especially as it will bring in some valuable revenue after the rise of cables and diminishing ads. One hopes these astronomical sums will be invested in better programmes outside of sport. And that one will no longer face a blank Sports Channel for most of the time with the depressing caption “Sports Channel will resume at 8.45 a.m.” And also that some overdue payments will be made to its long-suffering newscasters, most of them under notice and unlikely to get golden handshakes. They have so far had to wait for aeons for their cheques. You may not believe it, but newscasters have received at the end of February, their cheques for last October. Not a consolidated cheque but in instalments of varying sums. Although DD is legally supposed to give TDS certificates to them after a month, these are never given in time and have to be chased endlessly. Those anchors upgraded to five-figure cheques had better make sure they get them.

To return to cricket. Lucky that Arun Jaitley is the president of the Delhi Cricket Association and will understand what I am writing about when it comes to coverage in TV terms, because DD’s sports and news staff seem singularly ignorant of how to handle cricket or any other game. I will now document the grievances that sports lovers have against DD’s coverage so that the Augean stables can be cleaned once and for all, since much still remains with DD, Packer or no Packer.

The first and most legitimate complaint is about ads. cutting into sport. So bad has it become, that often the first ball of an over, or the last shot of a final in tennis, is abruptly cut off for a loud, strident ad for paan masala. Never does DD allow viewers to listen to those expert analyses in between overs or game. They are cut short before the last ball of the over has been hit and after the first ball, or the first serve of a new game is hit. They even cut off the awards functions at the end. Neither ESPN nor Star Sports, with which DD has competed unsuccessfully so far, do this. The corruption in DD’s sports section, including some of its top administrators and newscasters and others who run TV sports outfits of their own, is so well known, that viewers no longer get surprised when the camera hovers endlessly on some ad on the wall surrounding the stadium when a match is in progress. There should be clear-cut rules about the place of ads and their duration, so that they do not interfere with the game and the commentary at any time.

As for the commentators, India has produced very few commentators of international standards — Ravi Shastri, Sunil Gavaskar, to a lesser extent Sanjay Manjrekar, and in tennis the one and only Vijay Amritraj and, locally, Naresh Kumar. Most of its Hindi commentators still talk in radio terms, forgetting that the viewer does not want factual descriptions, but expert analyses. Some of them completely lose their cool and start shouting and screaming at moments of excitement. This is where DD’s role comes in. If Indian commentators are to compete in international terms, DD could invest some of the Packer money in discovering talent (and more qualified and objective selectors than those who assessed the newscasters) and train it properly through top professionals from abroad.

Another annoying factor has been the interruptions on the national and other channels for news bulletins and the relay being terminated with a promise of the recording being shown after two hours or more. If the matches are to come only on the sports channel it is time its reception quality is improved. It is all very well blaming cable operators, but experts feel that DD’s own transmission quality is far from good and needs immediate upgrading. Basics like DD’s placement of microphones have been so amateurish that crowd and incidental noises have drowned the commentary. DD’s sports unit seldom seems to monitor relays, let alone its duty room staff who are always at sea when complaints come from viewers.

This lack of sports specialists on DD’s staff is most apparent in its news bulletins. I have seen a shot by Sampras being shown in a bulletin while the newscaster is describing a winning shot by Agassi. Visuals seldom match the news item because DD’s generalist news editors and producers cannot supervise actual sports items on the screen. There is much more to be said about DD’s dismal sports coverage and I shall return to it some time.
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