moving to thejinxedone

I am consolidating all my blogs at one place. well, makes sense since i have a readership of 3.5 ppl, mostly ppl i love. :) to make lives simpler, i will here after write only on http://thejinxedone.blogspot.com
The post that would have appeared here in wasteology would be available under the tag 'appreciation' and 'bacchus' (stuff about good life, eats) and 'experiences'.


Cheers,
ajinkya

‘warholian’

I was reading Art India’s review about chintan upadyay’s oeuvre, where it says that his conception of an artist is ‘Warholian’. Wtf is warholian. Warhol was a great artist. He had a certain distinct vision, a distinct style. But when Chintan Upadyay can be ‘warhol like’ why should he be a ‘warholian’?

Well, my trouble is not with chintan or Warhol but with this tendency by writers, reporters to turn everything ‘ian’ to give undue depth to an argument, especially when people’s styles don’t remain styles but apparently a discipline due to the suffix ‘ian’. So we get warholian, lovecraftian, well why not pawarian? I have certain distinct traits, well none expressed to the world with any beauty or originality but in my world I am quite pawarian and this pawarian-ness is quite important to me.

So to sum up my request, stop turning famous people’s traits into disciplines.

Circumventing manufactured voices

I am gravely worried for the fate of India’s cultural empire. More than the Indian army or its embassies and aid packages, it’s the movie machine of Mumbai that has helped India raise its cultural flag beyond India. From Afghanistan to Japan, from Russia to south east Asia, Bollywood has found devout followers everywhere. This cultural advocacy helps corporate bodies when they march their imperialist marches into these countries. Hey, a dancing, overtly emotional Indian is better than a Kung-fu fighting Chinese.  

But, Bollywood is losing its hold here at home. Its becoming a caricature of it's imagined self. The ‘desi’ moviegoer is increasingly being subjected to only Punjabi and Gujarati London/Canada dreams. The mainstream movies are rarely even shot in India at all.

Since the moneyed few rules what is to be made, the available palette is primarily composed of galling stories of people falling in love in some white suburb of NY or some such world of big white people, where surprisingly white people are never more than sorry caricatures and all Indians are wealthy and wonderful, and the ultimate triumph is of ‘Indian values’ which are always loosely hinted at and never exercised in the movie. Even the conviction is absent in acting mostly, with actors treating the movie as a vacation. Look at any Johar movie. The actor plays a caricature of his character and his body language is always so loose as if he has been sitting on a yacht for hours. Johar knows that this very body language is what sells with NRIs, this image of being arrived in life. Story is incidental, often no more than some cheap emotional masturbation, if you will. What really ticks with NRIs is some misplaced nationalism (ironically whose measure is the character’s presence in Manhattan) filling the frame of character along with the ready ease of the character’s riches.

The majority desi moviegoer doesn’t pay in excess of rs. 40 for a movie ticket, and for him perhaps Mumbai is just as distant as New York. So what does he do? Since with increasing cost of movie tickets, and decreasing relevance and fulfillment with a movie experience, he would much rather not risk his hard earned money on a movie ticket, but rather get a pirated CD to watch at home.

Thankfully, the regional cinema players have noticed this sentiment and they are busy creating relevant dramas, action flicks, comedy trips. So what we see here possibly a new paradigm in Indian cinema that will come to pass. Many pockets of India will perhaps grow mature regional cinema industries. The bollywood of Bombay will shrink to fit the affluent class. The multiplex urban cinema will take a life of its own. This fragmentation is wonderful really for it will for the first time address India’s multiplicity and grow a larger relevant industry that will perhaps create more avenues for artists and audiences alike.

But there’s a worrying aspect to it too. Northeast, long neglected and not having strong industry of its own, is appropriating Korean mass entertainment. This is unhealthy from a national perspective since it is only alienating a people further. India has never addressed its diversity properly. Nationalism need not push out margins and create a consistent voice, but rather it should celebrate and recognize each other’s differences. Mainstream has totally failed to recognize northeast anymore than a caricature or an exotic part of the greater whole.  Recognition of problem, like in ‘Chak De’ is not enough. What is perhaps needed is a greater focus on helping create a stronger entertainment industry of its own in northeast. Northeasterners are characterized by their forward fashion sense and exceptionally acute sense of cool. Before even hitting the mainstream, fashions are appropriated and discarded in Northeast. It has some of the best western music bands in India. From being culture importers, they could become cool culture exporters with right infrastructure. It will only benefit the greater India for all its citizens to have a confident voice of its own. With recognition and confidence comes a possibility of co-existence. Otherwise, the red hand won’t take long to tear India into many states, and perhaps that won’t be undesirable then, if it gives the confidence and recognition to the citizens then.

Bhansali boo hoo - Guzaarish

I know, it might sound unduly parochial and unaccommodating of minorities perhaps, but why is Sanjay Leela Bhansali stuck on European sensibility? I am not questioning his choice of Goan catholic community as the backdrop for his stories (But even then there aren’t as many white people in Goa who dance the flamingo and wear jackets all the time or wear the Spanish gypsy dresses. In the movie most of the actors are very fair. Hmmm, perhaps it’s the Indian movies prerogative.), but his artistic liberty that is very narrowly defined by a certain romance with European visual culture and obscene opulence. What really bothers is, we don’t have many poetic visionaries creating beautiful cinemas, and the one we have is hopelessly afflicted with myopic obsession with a certain style that robs much from his story telling.

Guzaarish is beautiful at times, but then it was actually supposed to be about life’s wonder and an individual’s choice. The beauty should come out of this wonder, not through tropes of settings and plot. The film has juxtaposed the notion of life’s beauty and a person’s freedom to end one with humongous sufferings, without ever connecting the two. A film that should have had a strong existential motif ends up being just a mixture of protagonist’s nostalgia to life’s beauty and his desire to end it.

Well, the film may make you cry in instances; however it could have been much more. Bhansali’s ‘Khamoshi’ perhaps still remains one of his best movies where the film achieves what it set out to do.

I saw ‘Guzaarish’ at a talkies and I could see people poking fun at the film at many instances. Perhaps, Bhansali needs to work on who is he making films for. I understand that a director too needs space for his creative expression, which might not be yet appreciated by audience. But the audience was only feeling incredulous at the lapses of story. Indian movie goers are a passionate lot, but they won’t prefer a visual spectacle over a weakly developed narrative.

semiconductor

The first time I read about Semiconductor was at a blog, and it showcased their excellent art piece called brilliant noise. I was totally sucked into their gaze. It was amazing what they were doing with scientific data and observations and using sound innovatively to create one masterpiece after another. I wish to see their installation in person sometime in future.
Then came the magnetic movie. I don't have far too many grey cells and had to struggle to see if what was being projected was real or cgi. Amazing nevertheless. and then i kept going through their work. especially their work 'out of the light' . I was enamored with the idea's simplicity and its sheer beauty. In Ladakh, once I had taken a video of shadows and lights falling through leaves and how a cloud passing over us changed the shadow-light interaction, and this work reminded me of it. 

They seem to have a penchant for sound corresponding to the light's intensity on screen and time lapse magic. the result is breathtaking always. 

Dear Ruth Jarman and Joseph Gerhardt, keep on creating and bring some work here in mumbai/hyderabad for us to see.

delicious loops

earlier i would never listen to songs on loop. i constantly needed to listen newer and newer stuff. sara tavarez, illapu, Bonobo... give me more, give me more! the thirst for excellence once discovered, is inextinguishable. the genius i was hearing to was evidence of other geniuses out there. its a never ending quest for sublime. the beauty is indefinite and never ending in many shapes and sounds.

but then grace sets in with some songs. songs that mean something to you. Songs anchor our lives to certain moments in our lives. within the first note of that song it yanks us through our throats to that time. there's no point in fighting it, its part of you now. instead, swim in it, until it lasts. whatever the memory be, its always delicious. its ok to be a bit masochistic, go ahead suck on that pain. if it weren't delicious, you wouldn't have been remembering it.

long live continuous loops.

arziyan

arziyan saari mein,
chehre pe likh le laaya hun...
(delhi 6 soundtrack)

a lump forms in my throat after the first verse. and all i am left with is a sense of serene submission; of lightness; of happiness though not content. i close my eyes, and sway with it, and sing perhaps a few lines along. its not a song in grace, its in yearning. its in a world where the notion of defeat and winning is defeated itself. its a still fluid world. the song is the water with which we wash our hands, feet and face before stepping into a mandir,masjid or dargha. listening to it turns this room into a joyous open space, light playing hide and seek with the walls, waves crashing onto it.
its perhaps amongst the very few tracks which leave me incapacitated to do or think of anything else while listening to it. all i wish to do is submit to it.