 |
|
| ART TRIBUNE | Friday, January 21, 2000, Chandigarh, India |
Singer with a never-say-die attitude by Nonika Singh "TO be a superstar singer, one has to be a shadow voice of a superstar actor. For instance, if today I were to sing for Shah Rukh Khan, instant stardom would come my way". Rural ethos on canvas
The recycling process
Cars & still more cars Memorial for K.L. Saigal |
|
Singer with a never-say-die
attitude "TO be a superstar singer, one has to be a shadow voice of a superstar actor. For instance, if today I were to sing for Shah Rukh Khan, instant stardom would come my way". Rumblings of a newcomer? No, this isn’t a greenhorn grumbling, but Vinod Sehgal whose acrid confession, "I am struggling even today," comes after having devoted over two decades to the world of the sur sangam. At a point when singers blessed with moderate vocal chords are cutting out discs every other day, his career graph is stuck at a middling level. Sure the singer has sung for over 45 odd films, nevertheless, he cribs, "Unlike other singers who are simply riding high on the waft of success, I have to prove myself at every step." The singer, who spent his childhood years in the bylanes of Ambala, was initiated into the realm of music by none other than his own father who took the little boy to all musical gatherings. Exposure to "saat suron ki duniya" at a formative age, formal training under the aegis of R.M. Kulkarni and Chiranji Lal, several prizes at school functions and music was fait accompli. The first break came with Smita Patil-starrer "Ravana". Since then he has worked with maestros like late R.D. Burman, Khayyam and talented newcomers like Vishal Bhardwaj. The soulful Chhod aaye hum.... from "Maachis" used his voice besides other singers. Still the chartbuster, which could catapult him on to the dizzying heights of success, has eluded him. A trifle disenchanted with the ways of the tinsel town — he never bid adieu though — he had turned towards ghazal singing. Herein, he was fortunate enough to be noticed by Melody King Jagit Singh. The outcome was some memorable ghazals. Apart from albums, "Jagjit Singh Presents Vinod Sehgal", "The Brightest Talents of 80s" and "Kehkashan part 1 and 2," he got an opportunity to sing the timeless lyrical gems of legendary Mirza Ghalib. Comparing the two different streams of music — ghazals and playback singing — he professes, "Ghazals allow you to traverse the entire expense of horizon like a free bird. Playback singing, however, is bound by certain parameters as defined by the filmmaking process." A man who idolises Mohammad Rafi, the great singer of yesteryears, to the point of deification, he ruse that in recent times the standard of film music has suffered irreparable demage. Though beggars can’t be choosers, his anathema towards senseless lyrics like What is your mobile number.... is palpable. About the modern avtar of music, that is pop which lays greater emphasis on appearances, he remarks, "No genre of music can be denigrated altogether. Each kind of music has its strength and weaknesses". Ah, but pray, wherein lies the power of this brand of music which has everyone foot tapping? He answers, "Rhythm is the heartbeat of music and all of us respond to its feel. Whereas the connoisseur finds it in classcial sangeet, the less discerning ear seeks it in what appears frivolous to us. Nevertheless, none of us can resist the lure or rhythm". For him music is predictably the "elixir of life." In an introspective mood he avers, If I didn’t have a care in the world, perhaps I would have been singing for the sake of singing." But as an afterthought he adds, " I guess even if I were born with a silver spoon, the addictive pull of fame and glamour would certainly have overwhelmed me and I wouldn’t have been able to quit professional singing." Small wonder his journey en route search of stardom continues as he is all agog with excitement about his future projects. While the much-awaited film "Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar," in which he recites Kabir’s dohas, is already making waves at the IFFI, he is looking forward to some teleserials. Earlier, the title track of "Potlibaba" had won him a round of applause. He is expecting the same for an experimental innovation in a forthcoming teleserial for which music has been crafted by Vishal Bhardwaj. As a singer he
wouldn’t care any tag — be it ghazal, pop or
playback singer — to trail him and would like to go
down as a versatile artiste. So in the pipeline are some
dream ventures which he hopes will resurrect quality
music. About the elusive mysterious X factor, he says,
"Sure, destiny plays an important role in shaping
one’s career. But if one were to give undue
importance to such variables, one’s growth would be
severely hampered." Indeed, the pace of life
can’t be determined by fate, but actions alone. So
he treads on, acknowledging both brickbats and bouquets,
but allowing neither to stall him. |
Rural ethos on canvas THE freshness of the earth which has just received the first showers of the season, a dawn when the rays of the Sun filter through the trees refreshing ones whole being and the very feeling of being close to one’s roots which have not been diminished by the glitter of the present-day superficial world — this is how one feels after watching the latest works of Suman Gupta, a prominent artist of Jammu and Kashmir carved a niche for himself at the national art scene. Suman’s work, which have already been exhibited in the prestigious art galleries of the country, including Jehangir and Prithvi, were displayed at an art exhibition titled, "Nineteen Contemporary Artists of India", held in New Delhi recently. Suman’s latest works included four paintings for which the themes had been picked up from rural settings. The painting, "Dusk on the Hill," shows a folk artiste in his traditional dress playing the toomba, a folk instrument used in the villages of Jammu. The serene settings also depict a lion listening calmly to the melodious music, while a goat is grazing in the distance. Besides, smoke emanating from the burning bushes also adds to the impact of approaching the dusk. This beautiful painting has a spiritual atmosphere as well for it depicts the contentment of the animal. The basic theme has been taken from the legend that Raja Jambulochan, founder of Jammu city, had seen a lion and goat drinking from the same pond. Suman believes that one has to be emotional and romantic to produce and see such types of work. "You ought to be much more attached with your work to produce these pieces," he says. In summer, when the flowers of palash bloom, one feels as if the forest is on fire. Such is the impact that has been created in the painting "Lovers" showing a village belle standing under a palash tree on a sultry afternoon. The tree with a bunch of red flowers and the contentment reflecting on her face create a beautiful impact. Suman has always been influenced by the rural scenes — be it a village in the kandi belt of Jammu or a colourful scene from a Rajasthani village. Such themes have always been his favourites. Besides, Andrew Wyeth, a world famous American painter, has also been his source of inspiration. Like Suman’s paintings also show minute details clearly. In the paintings entitled "The Kite-seller" and "Thakur", he has brought out every single detail — be it the torn shirt of the kite-seller or the wild grass and weeds grown in the field. In ‘The Kite-seller’, the use of vibrant colours and the sunlight filtering through the yellow-coloured polythene sheet of the make-shift shop, create a stunning effect which is deepened further by the expression on the face of the boy, the kite-seller, who has been forced by circumstances to leave his studies and sell kites to earn his livelihood. "Thakur" shows a Rajput landlord who owns nothing but a dry, barren patch of land with weeds and grass. Still, he as an arrogant look on his face. If one has carefully seen Suman’s earlier works, one can observe a change in his latest paintings. While those works had a prominent pictorial effect in which more stress was laid on as how the picture should come out as a whole in his latest works. Suman has focussed on the concept besides giving more importance to the execution of the work. The artist who has adopted himself to the change around him, now seems more confident about colour, light and composition. Most of Suman’s new works are in water colour with a different treatment with a dry brush. Every single stroke is prominently defined, especially in the painting "Thakur". Simple strokes give a three-dimensional effect and every single place grass is clearly defined in pale green shade. A self-taught artist, Suman’s paintings are with Lalit Kala Academy, World Trade Centre, Bombay, Sunil Gavaskar, Jaya Bachchan, Prithvi Gallery, Dr Farooq Abdullah besides a number of private collections in India, Australian, USA, Singapore, Pakistan and Canada. Recently, he did a
commissioned work on a 14-painting series on the
different landmarks of Jammu for the Raj Bhavan
(Governor's’s House) and the Attache, Australian
Embassy. |
The recycling process PUKAR (Venus) : Is it a case of biting more than one can chew? A.R. Rahman here leaves a distinct feeling of tiredness. Some of the songs of this prestigious film are recycled versions of earlier hits while the others lack lustre. Take Hai jaana... (Sujatha) for instance. It is pure Jehreela pyar... stuff. This time, even the lyrics of Majrooh Sultanpuri and Javed Akhtar are not of much help. There is a forced attempt to give words to the unusual music. That does not mean that the cassette will fall by the wayside. Even when Rahman is not at his freshest, he packs enough punch to carry the product through. Kay sera sera... (a straight lift; sung by Kavita Krishnamurthy, Shankar Mahadevan and chorus) and Sunta hai mera khuda... (Kavita Krishnamurthy, Swarnlatha and Udit Narayan), both have considerable potential. Side A has some foot-tapping numbers while side B has more sober ones like Kismat se tum hum ko mile ho... (Anuradha Paudwal, Sonu Nigam) and Lata Mangeshkar’s Ek tu hi bharosa... As usual, there is a fusion of Indian and western instruments. 2000 ZAMANA AAGAYA (Venus) : This two-cassette album of "millennium hits" should actually have been named the "90s hits" because not one of the 20 songs is from any other decade. So, there is nothing older than Tu cheez badi hai mast mast... from "Mohra", Mere hathon mein nau nau chooriyan hain... from "Chandni" and Dekha hai pahli baar from "Sajan". Nor can the compilation be called very judicious because most of the hits are from the Venus and the Gramophone Co of India. It is but natural that songs like Mausam... from "Janwar" have got included. JUDAAI JUDDAI (Venus): The mix and-match job is done in a different manner in this cassette. It takes nine songs like the thehre hue pani mein... ("Dalaal"), Jab koi baat bigad jaye... ("Jurm"), Kash kahin aisa hota... ("Mohra"), adds a few lines of "shayeri" in between and presto, it becomes a cassette of Altaf Raja and Minalini Singh. Neither the poetry of
Jameel Mujahid nor the rendition of Altaf and Minalini
improve the originals in any manner. |
Cars & still more cars THOSE of us who are attending and covering the international film festival in Delhi have hardly had time to watch anything besides films, stars, directors and the festival crowds who vary from star-gazers seeking autographs to old festival hands tearing it to bits. I got so film-weary by the end of the week that I took some time off to see something else and do my duty as a writer on the small screen. But I might mention that in the several discussions, formal and informal that take place on such occasions and which end up as talking shops that nobody remembers afterwards, there was one problem that bothered everybody: Where does one see some of the good films that come from abroad and also the good films by Indians. Everyone would like to see the Panorama films by directors from every part of India and, this year, an intriguing crop of films made by NRIs about NRIs (such as, for instance, Cast is Cast, with Om Puri) and several others made by young directors now abroad who have dealt with immigrant problems abroad with understanding, sympathy and even a sense of humour. In the absence of art theatres, the obvious answer is television. Doordarshan, which used to screen good offbeat films with sub-titles of the Panorama type has been dragging its feet of late. Sony has been showing more good small-budget films and classics of late. And we can only hope that there will be an Indian TNT soon, which will show both good commercial as well as festival class films on a regular basis, preferably a whole film channel for 24 hours, instead of screening either box-office flops for which producers get a considerable fee. Or, worse, break the rules about prematurely screening current block-busters and pay astronomical fees for them (Zee and Star Movies, for instance) and upset the industry as well as create couch-potatoes who forget the superiority of the big screen for films made for the big screen. Well, one of the getaways I made from films was to the BBC programme Wheels which concentrated last Tuesday on the glamorous exhibition of automobiles (including two-wheelers and every kind of wheelers) with two car-minded, attractive and highly professional women drivers and the usual male commentators led by the cheerful and articulate Niret Alva. To tell you the truth, after a time I felt as dizzy with cars in one hour as I did with films in one week. The difference being that the cars were of a far higher quality, dream cars in fact and had one mesmerised with their beauty, their technical glitz and their true millennium look. I have only one point to carp about. Conceding that there was much to fit in and that the commentary had to be lively and fast, it did become a bit too fast at times. Then the music. There was some local music to which Alva, who loves music, seems to have added some more, and it became far too distracting at times and added to the other kinds of din. But if you ask me if it was a fun show to watch, it was and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Except that I shudder to think of anyone trying to drive those super-speed, super cars in Delhi’s chaotic and dangerous traffic and then on India’s roads. No test drives, I presume, around those Lutyens roundabouts? I think some of the
interviews on TV during the film festival lost their
novelty because there are too many film interviews on all
the channels throughout the year. For instance, Aparna
Sen. I know one channel alone did three interviews with
her while she was shooting Paromitar Ek Din so we knew
all about it by the time it was screened at the festival.
As a result, the areas and languages which are less
frequently aired, scored. So while we are very familiar
with Adoor Gopalakrishnan, film personalities like
Mammooty or Jayaram had more to tell us that was unknown
about themselves and their films. And for once, they got
equal time and perhaps much more of an audience than the
proverbial stars from the commercial cinema because a
film festival creates a mood where we recognise that
there is a lot of serious work by serious-minded people
going on in the more distant parts of India and, more
importantly, that there is an audience for it. |
Memorial for K.L. Saigal A MEMORIAL for legendary singer Kundan Lal Saigal, featuring his cigarette case, tabla, an eight-mm projector, medals and letters, is being set up by the K.L. Saigal Memorial Trust at Amar Kunj, the late maestro’s bungalow in Central Mumbai. Saigal’s 53rd death anniversary was observed on January 18. The memorabilia, preserved in a bank locker, are now in Mr Abdul Ali’s possession. Mr Ali is a livewire veteran dedicated to preserving the history of Indian cinema and memories of its long-gone greats. With help from the Tatas, the trust will preserve the belongings of the late star at Amar Kunj, which is now in the name of Ms Neena Merchant, Saigal’s daughter. The idea of setting up
the trust emerged after it was decided not to sell the
invaluable memorabilia to distribute proceeds among
Saigal’s survivors, Mr Ali told mediapersons
recently. — UNI |
