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| ARTS TRIBUNE | Friday, June 2, 2000, Chandigarh, India |
| Commercial avtar of ladies’ sangeet By Nonika Singh AT a ladies’ sangeet function, an integral aspect of marriage festivities in Punjab, a motley crowd of urban educated women are dumbfounded. Wracking their brains, they try desperately hard to recollect “shagnan de gaane” to pep up the evening.
Autonomy & public broadcasting
Artistic interpretations on art
B.C. Sanyal: 99 not out
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Commercial avtar of ladies’ sangeet AT a ladies’ sangeet function, an integral aspect of marriage festivities in Punjab, a motley crowd of urban educated women are dumbfounded. Wracking their brains, they try desperately hard to recollect “shagnan de gaane” to pep up the evening. An isolated incident! Not quite. This could be the story of nearly every urban household in Punjab which under the onslaught of modernisation is gradually gravitating away its roots. So is ladies’ sangeet under threat of extinction? No way. Help is at hand in the shape of professional ladies’ sangeet musical groups who are only too willing — of course at a price — to lend their vocal chords plus dancing prowess and add glitter to your lacklustre function. Neelam Sharma, who set the ball rolling about 10 years ago, felt a growing demand for such groups. The tumultuous response to her audios, “Ladies Sangeet” and “Veer Da Uyah”, only firmed up her resolve to specialise in ladies’ sangeet. A versatile singer who till then had dabbled in virtually every conceivable realm of sargam — from folk to light singing to ghazal — her career had been stuck at a middling level. So this jack of all trades decided to master one. In its commercial avtar, ladies’ sangeet has been a complete sellout. Whereas Neelam’s group is flooded with offers, a host of similar groups have mushroomed in different parts of the state. According to rough estimates, there are nearly 350 odd groups with varying degrees of competence in the fray. Sure enough, the ladies’ sangeet (of yesteryear), spread over a week, an all-women affair replete with sexual innuendoes and hard-hitting jibes, especially aimed at the in-laws, will never be the same again. Shorn off old sheen and the uninhibited natural mannerisms, in its transformed version its a “one-night” affair in which men too love to shake a leg. Says Neelam, “Plus the no-holds-barred singing of the past has been replaced with emphasis on restraint. As tolerance levels dip downwards, the tenor and choice of numbers has to be in line with hyper sensitive sensibilities” Still “boleeyan” like Teri maan ne khaade se pich janme se reech... and Teri maan ne Khaadi si rai janme se halwai ... are taken in stride. Neelam, whose troupe carried a hefty premium and is booked throughout the year, informs that clientele are obviously those sections of society whose daily interaction with folk culture has been broken, but deep down they are still die-hard Punjabis. So Neelam visits rural areas, digs up long-forgotten traditions, improvises a bit and the package is ready to meet “ there is no accounting for tastes’. With over 500 “shagnan de ganne” and 2000 “boleeyan” in her repertoire, the potpourii includes “horane, ghodi, “sethnian” et al topped with Punjabi pop as well. As for the music, well the spartan dholak has survived. Only it is gelled with synthesiser to create a background score. Vinod Puri, a music director who relies on both folk and electronic instruments, says music is a hybrid, a mix of traditional and modern tunes. Whereas present-day lyricists like Gurcharan Virk are always at hand to pen nouveau numbers like vehda shagnan naal bharya, sajna mitran naal bharya, aaj din bhaagan walwan chadayan... Still the audiences continue to root for evergreen hits such as “kaala shah kaala” Neelam adds, “Our ultimate aim is to defer to the wishes of the client and take them along”. So giddha dancers, Sonal and Malkiat Kaur admit that their presence on the dance floor merely serves as a starting point, a kind of clap shot before the real stars, family members and relatives, can occupy the centre stage. For ultimately it’s a private function and not a programme to showcase their talent. Of course, the natural gifts of these professionals provides the necessary ignition to set the entire evening aflame. Neelam reveals that though the groups are booked for two hours, invariably the evening lasts interminably. However, many a time the family members comprises cultural ignoramuses who have no clue as to what even phulkari means, leave alone intricate customs like “jaagon”. So is it — hiring of professional groups — a fad, a new symbol of affluence, a status symbol? Yes and no. Baljeet Jakhmi, a script writer, muses, “On the face of it, it reflects the abysmal reality of how the ‘sehari’ Punjabi has no notion about his culture. On the flipside it helps him to connect with his roots. Probably much of what is being performed goes over his head. Nevertheless, at least a part of it, will sieve down to register on his consciousness”. At the end of the day the commercial “roop” of a ladies’ sangeet isn’t a means to resurrect Punjabiayat. The need of the times: a stop-gap arrangement? Most certainly. As the urban, educated woman gets preoccupied with occupational and materialistic aspirations, with little time to spare for keeping in sync with her traditions and customs, the future of such groups couldn’t be rosier. |
Autonomy & public broadcasting I have lived through something like five committees and commissions on broadcasting. I have given evidence to at least three of them, beginning with the Chanda Committee. I have survived all of them, but am not sure that any of them have made an iota of difference to AIR and Doordarshan’s precipitous downward course. I cannot help remembering broadcasting in the 50s, when the cream of Indian universities joined All India Radio as an exciting challenge. Some of them left to join the IAS and allied services, which shows what prestige was attached to a job in broadcasting, even if one started as a programme assistant on Rs 150 a month. It was a period when Ravi Shankar, Nirad Chaudhuri, Sumitra Nandan Pant, and their counterparts in Calcutta and the South were on five-year contracts and there was no friction whatsoever between the organisation and the artist. When G.L. Obhrai was a news editor and later rose to one of the highest posts in the UN in New York. Pran Chopra left to become the Editor of The Statesman, and Samar Sen, a leading Bengali poet, enriched the news-room with his wit. Cut to the early days of TV. Ramu Damodaran starting as a boy to win quizzes, winning an ABU prize for his feature on youth and the universities, then joining the foreign service and now with the UN in New York. Sai Paranjype winning an ABU prize in Teheran with her feature ‘The Little Tea Shop’. Bright executives like Sashi Kapur and Shiv Sharma (both rose to be DGs) improvising in apologies for studios with dated equipment, but lots of enthusiasm. There were still some shreds of public service broadcasting around, immense pride in one’s work and with people like Kamleshwar on the Hindi side, TV had both style and professionalism. Investigative reports on disturbances in Meerut and Bhiwandi still stand out as classics. One of those reporting was Balraj Sahni. Even in more recent times, someone like Govind Nihalani could makea landmark serial like Tamas, for DD. Because it still cared. Cut to one IAS DG who said there was no difference between a stage play and a TV play. To CEO’s who think money is all. When station directors are arrested for corruption and photographed for the press surrounded by mountains of currency notes. When a well-known broadcaster who sent his secretary to collect a long overdue cheque from DD at Mandi House was horrified when the secretary said he was stopped at the door by a guard who asked for money first to let him in. When special rooms are luxuriously furnished in Mandi House for the daughter of an IAS man married to the police, one of the juniormost and newest recruits who also has reserved space in the parking lot because the guard says the CEO ordered it. Where does one stop this litany of shame and corruption and nepotism? Transmitters which cannot cope with Pakistani propaganda in Kashmir, ditto in the North-East. And this from an organisation which swelled with pride when SITE was launched in the middle seventies and ushered in a media and social revolution. And now, so cheap has DD become that Mr Packer can have the audacity to buy up slots on a publicly owned channel which should be by rights filled with in-house programmes. The famous CRP studios with enviable equipment are also being used more by outsiders than DD and have now fallen victim to DD’s News Channel, which nobody watches because cable operators are in business and having done the two compulsory DD channels with a pistol held to their heads by government they quite rightly insist that viewers prefer the Adhikari brothers. As for autonomy, the second magic phrase, every committee and commission had recommended it. As they have recommended professionalism and the rest. And given clear-cut guidance on every issue. But governments being what they are, that is also likely to remain a pipe dream. So thank you Mr Shunu Sen, Mr Karnik and the entire team for reminding us of the values that should exist and of public service broadcasting and autonomy.
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Artistic interpretations on art EXPERIMENTS with glass as an architectural medium has created new waves by letting it assume the image of an art form. In urban settlements, more emphasis is being laid on maximum utilisation of this transparent material. Why, several affluent dwellings, in Chandigarh itself can boast of elaborate and attractive glass displays. It is no longer merely a breakable thing used for making windows and mirrors. Its value in application has travelled much beyond its conventional use. In the recent past, glass has undergone several artistic interpretations. One such being the medium of stained glass. There have been different appearances to this kind of glass e.g. painted stained glass, etched stained glass, coloured stained glass etc. And yet, it is the original (stained glass itself) that steals the show always. Art Folio, Centre for Arts, Sector 9, Chandigarh, organised a five-day workshop on illuminations with stained glass. The talented couple of J. Yeamanth Giri and Lata initiated a selected few into examining the aesthetic possibilities of stained glass while making lamps. The kind of technique used in the process is known as tiffany which is best suited for making lamps. Giri and Lata graduated from Chennai College of Arts and later on specialised into architectural stained glass designing. Now based in Delhi, this husband-wife team operates from their den in Malviya Nagar called “Giris Stained Glass Studio”. According to Yeamanth, “Glass possesses the wonderful properties of transparency i.e. both sides are visible. It never stops the interaction with the outside environment.” On being asked as to why they chose architectural designing as their forte, Giri replied confidently: “Glass requires an art sense that enhances the building externally and internally during day as well as night.” He is of the opinion that glass as an element of construction is bound to be used extensively in the future. And stained glass is “just an extension” of ordinary glass. Walls shall be replaced by this see-through screen. Hence, it needs to be upgraded constantly, technically and creatively in order to maintain its utility of purpose. Education on the various aspects of stained glassware, Giri also held a slide show on the last day of his workshop. Some of the images shown were of the interiors of a chapel in Germany. These were primarily windows of stained glass which had been etched and filled with colour while creating a contemporary design. Giri explained during the show that while doing a piece in stained glass, several types of techniques fall into its contribution. For instance, while showing the slide of Vinod Sharma’s farm house door, that was completely made of stained glass, the same on both sides, he pointed out the amalgamation of different methods like the leaded and bevelled technique, tiffany, etching and firing, painted and coloured being the prominent and more commonly applied ones in this art form. Giri and Lata have an impressive portfolio of their work in architectural stained glass. To mention a few, the Videocon office in Delhi, the Hauz Khas village first floor entrance door with its magnificent ethnic motifs, a jewellery shop in Calcutta where the ceiling has a stained glass eye with borders done in traditional Tanjore style of painting and its interior has a modern etched geometrical panel done in tiffany. Regarding the response they got from their capsule workshop at Art Folio, the artist couple jointly agreed in stating that the city had definitely become “more aware and serious in its consciousness towards the use of stained glass.” But it was merely the introduction with this multidimensional medium. They are keen to hold exhibitions both at Delhi and Chennai, sometime next year as they intend to make an impact with a much wider audience. They feel that the ‘notion of glass per se’ needs to be altered. As Lata states, “stained glass has arrived in India, in terms of Architectural designing. But it is in its infancy and therefore needs more explicit an exposure. It is limitless.” Giri quipps in by saying: “Let us hope with its growing scope, in the future, we have a glass metal too!” One of the participants of the workshop, a young artist herself, Komal, appreciated the effort put in by these two artists and shared her views by saying “It was indeed a great opportunity of upgrading the technique of stained glass. But it is a lot of hard work and time involving before it yields its true results. Well, the city did benefit in its own way from these players who spread light through a prism of artistic dimension. |
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B.C. Sanyal: 99 not out "I will score a century, and not by match-fixing.” At 99, the legendary B.C. Sanyal has not tired. Age may have dampened his faculties but not his enthusiasm or creativity. The nonagenarian continues to paint and exhibit regularly to pursue a remaining dream — a retreat for artists in the Kangra valley. He says he wants to realise this dream as soon as possible so that he can spend some time relaxing at this sylvan retreat, the layout plans for which are ready and only adequate funds remain to be collected. Born in 1902 in a distant corner of India, Dhubri, a town on the Brahmaputra in tropical Assam, Bhabesh Chandra Sanyal traversed the nation to carve a niche for himself in the opposite end of the country, Lahore. After school he left for Calcutta in 1920, where he joined Serampore College. However, he soon tired of academics and joined the Calcutta College of Art. It was in the six years spent here that he honed his artistic skills, not only in painting but also in sculpture, proving to be an outstanding student. Outgoing and adventurous, Sanyal tried various innovations, including going with a colleague to a red-light area of the city to get a model to sketch — an unheard of practice in those times. He was soon practising fine arts and sculpture, and it was the latter that gave him his early public recognition and acclaim. But destiny lay elsewhere. The Indian National Congress decided to honour its just-martyred leader Lajpat Rai, and Sanyal was commissioned to prepare Rai’s bust for the Lahore Session (1929). And he travelled to Lahore, “the Calcutta of the North". Lahore, then a hotbed of political and cultural activities, suited the flamboyant young artist exceedingly well. He was soon appointed Vice-Principal of the Mayo College of Art, a position he held till 1936. A cynosure of all eyes in elite circles, however, he was soon looked upon with suspicion by the British as a fomentor of trouble. The Independence movement had its repercussions on him and he was forced to resign his post, after which he set up the Lahore college of Art. It was here that his natural gift as a teacher really blossomed and so faithful a group built up around him that even to this day the group continues to come to Delhi on his birthdays annually. Sanyal taught a whole generation of Lahoris in the 18 odd years he spent in the city, a stint he describes as “very
satisfactory”.— PTI |
