LOUNGE CULTURE L21 SATURDAY, JUNE 28, 2008 ° WWW.LIVEMINT.COM

MUSIC RAAGTIME SAMANTH S Return of the THE EVOLUTION OF urban balladeer THE TAMBURA t the end of an evening of Carnatic music in Russia, a story Agoes, the organizer rose to deliver a speech of thanks. He Out with his much anticipated second album, complimented all the artistes on stage, but he singled out, for Rabbi Shergill talks about the wellspring of fulsome praise, the tambura’s music. The gentleman behind the his music and the importance of language tambura—the vocalist’s husband, as it turned out—must have cringed. But this Russian host from many years ago was neither the first nor the last person to be confounded by the tambura’s B Y H IMANSHU V ERMA Avengi ja Nahin and Ballo, role in a concert. ···························· address themes such as unre- The tambura and its strummer sit inconspicuously behind the love song for a sassy, quited love, the impossibility of lead musician and, just as inconspicuously, the thrum of its veiled girl in Karachi; an union and occasionally, the strings lays out the musician’s natural pitch. That pitch, or sruti, Aode to Bilqis Bano, a vic- hope that “in time, we shall be is the musician’s compass, a navigational aid over musical tim of genocidal communal vio- together”. Bilqis is a striking terrain. Just as the Boy Scout knows west once the needle lence in Gujarat, and to three number in which Shergill takes points north, so the musician knows “Ri”, “Ga” and the other young men killed for standing the voice of contemporary vic- four notes once the sruti determines “Sa”. up against corruption—the nine tims and martyrs—of Bilqis Today, the tambura is sometimes replaced—or, very often, songs in Rabbi’s second album, Bano, and of Satyendra Dubey, supplemented—by a cheery little synthesis of science and art: Avengi ja Nahin, are eclectic and Shanmughan Manjunath, and the electronic sruti box. It is the travelling musician’s poignant, much like those in his Navleen Kumar, three young dependable companion—a diminutive, be-knobbed box, made first album. men who fought corruption at more often than not by a firm named Radel. The tambura is The song Bulla ki Jana, a fresh the cost of their lives. big-bellied and unwieldy, and temperamental in its tuning; the interpretation of the poetry of While the riffs of rock music electronic sruti box needs only a power socket and a few twists Sufi saint-poet Bulleh Shah, hit inform his musical thought—he to its knobs to be ready to hum. the airwaves three years ago, idolizes Bruce Springsteen V. GANESAN/THE HINDU making the self-described —Shergill’s music is essentially “singer, song-writer and guitar- Punjabi. The rhythms and player” a household name over- cadences of the Punjabi lan- night. Bulla was part of the self- guage, and folk and Sufi musical taught musician’s debut album, forms are reflected in his origi- Rabbi, an eclectic and inspiring nal compositions. He feels fusion of Punjabi-Sufi-Rock-Pop strongly about language as a that made him the discovery of vehicle for thought—the bas- the season and established him tardization of the Punjabi lan- as a serious and sensitive artist. guage and its homogenization, Sufi scholar Madan Gopal Singh brought about by mass culture, famously called him “Punjabi upsets him. “Homogenizing lan- music’s true urban balladeer”. guage is tantamount to homoge- With lyrics from 17th century nizing thought,” says the verse that resonated with a 33-year-old, adding that using Timeless postmodern sense of discon- his own language—a dialect of themes: Loss, nect, Bulla ki Jaana struck a Punjabi spoken in the Majha pain and chord. The other numbers in his region, that he was exposed to as unrequited Going digital: Vocalist P. Unnikrishnan in performance. debut album were celebratory a child—is for him a form of pro- love feature in songs of love and happiness, as test against the homogenization both albums. And, of course, what can be turned electronic can always be well as odes and lyrical ballads, of the beautiful, rich and diverse booted further into the digital age. Today, music shops in all of which together reflected a Punjabi language. Language, Chennai sell CDs recorded with an endless loop of a tambura rich and diverse variety of com- then, is a focal point in under- strumming a specific sruti. At least one musician has a sleek, position styles. In Gill te Guitar, standing and appreciating white iPod dock in front of him during concerts, with its he looked back nostalgically at Shergill’s music. miniature speakers playing back an hours-long MP3 of his sruti. old friendships, missing old Pain, a tragic mindset and a Vocalist P. Unnikrishnan dispenses with such niceties, and goes MANOJ VERMA/MINT friends who had migrated to sense of loss have been the one better. From his iPod, he loops a discreet earphone all the other parts of the world—his mainstays of Punjab’s musical way into his ear, sending his sruti directly where it’s headed. strong, carefree and fearless heritage, reflecting the vagaries Strumming the tambura appears to be a performance art in friend Sanga confessed that his of a land so often ravaged by itself. There must be a consistent volume maintained—not loud evenings in exile were lonely strife and war. These elements enough to drown out the music, but not soft enough to be and empty. Jugni was a subtle are integral to Shergill’s music, is typical of Indian performing to resist the dumbing down of entirely inaudible to the artistes. It also involves an alarming but powerful social and political connecting him to the rich heri- arts traditions. While there is no our mass culture. But he says amount of sitting straight and still; that could well explain our commentary on Kashmir, and tage of Punjab’s musical expres- gainsaying the fact that Shergill there is hardly anyone on the Russian organizer’s marvel at the tambura performance, which he on the greed and maliciousness sion. Even his most joyous is deeply rooted in his tradition Indian popular music scene who may have viewed more as a feat of calisthenics or Zen quietude. of Delhi and Mumbai. songs and celebrations are and language, it is also equally is addressing this, and creating Too much movement distracts the audience, and too little Avengi ja Nahin (Yash Raj tinged with tender notes of sad- true that he is one of those very new and radical spaces. movement leads to cricks in the back. I, for one, would be found Music), released on 19 June, was ness, melancholy, nostalgia and rare musicians who is making slumped over the tambura’s belly by the end of a 3-hour concert, much anticipated. “I am not longing. Shergill feels that this is music that is absolutely contem- Avengi ja Nahin: hand moving only feebly over the strings. consciously trying to create a only natural, especially since porary, in a manner that is Yash Raj Music, For something this crucial, the tambura’s equivalent word in new sound or create a thematic the legendary Punjabi poet Shiv never superficial, but soulful Rs149. English—the “drone”—makes it sound remarkably banal, collection, but I try to enjoy dif- Kumar Batalvi (1936-1973), who and full of force. somewhat like an electric drill. In actuality, a well-tuned tambura ferent sounds; the album is com- was known as “Birah da Sultan” Shergill feels that India is in a Write to [email protected] is always soothing, but its symbolic value is far, far greater. At posed of these spontaneous (the emperor of longing), is a flux; a loose assortment of dis- concerts, before the curtain goes up, I find myself waiting for the musings, reflecting eclectic major influence. rupted cultures foisted with an first audible hum of the tambura. It has become my signal to stop influences,” says Shergill. In fact, age-old forms and artificial unity imposed by the www.livemint.com texting, shut my book and settle down, and to give myself over to Chhalla is his revisitation of the ideas are transformed by idea of nationhood. He feels that To see Rabbi Shergill sing from, and talk the anticipation of the excitement that lies ahead. popular Punjabi folk song. Love Shergill’s touch, exemplifying the onus is on the artist to make about, his new album at the Mint studios, songs in the album, Mein Bolia, the continuity and change that sense of what is happening and log on to www.livemint.com/rabbi.htm Write to Samanth Subramanian at [email protected]

ESTATEOF RICHARD BARTHOLOMEW black and white photographs as in his son’s work, but there is less In the name of the father urgency. They are reflective of a middle-aged family man who was “Photojournalism had sort of lovingly focused on his children, Photographer Pablo Bartholomew shows his reached a dead end for me. It kind his wife and his friends. His land- of seemed dull,” Bartholomew scapes are more obscure, hinting art­critic father’s photographs says. “It was menopausal.” at future stories that the viewer is So, Bartholomew decided to go left to imagine. One of the younger B Y M ELISSA A . B ELL Krishna Reddy, Satish Gujral, Rak- backwards in the hope that he Bartholomew’s favourite images is [email protected] shat Puri and Ram Kumar would would discover something to that of a graffiti-covered tree ···························· gather at the Bartholomew resi- move him forward. In the study of branch in Delhi’s Jantar Mantar, n 1973, Pablo Bartholomew was dence and discuss late into the his crowded south Delhi flat, he evocative perhaps of countless Ijust another rebellious teenager night topics such as the lack of started digging through bureaus clandestine encounters. in Delhi. A self-described enfant international recognition of Indian full of old film. There he found Richard Bartholomew’s life terrible, he had been expelled art and the crushing bureaucracy. troves of his father’s writings and ended in frustration and he died, from school, and had little idea “We were a hub,” Bartholomew photographs, invaluable archives burdened by unfulfilled dreams for what he would do with his life. recalls. “You were always with which he was only able to return Artist as subject: M.F. Husain at work in his studio. New Delhi, 1970s. the Indian art scene. “He tried to Luckily, his parents were people who had some intellectual to after helping his mother recover change the art world, which really slightly more accepting of the acumen. One had a great insider’s from a stroke three years ago. there was in the family assets of Critic’s Eye is split into three sec- killed him,” Bartholomew says. unconventional. His mother, Rati view to all this, looking at their art, His father, best known as an images and also to get a fuller tions: the family “shrine” as Bart- He sees the exhibit as his Bartholomew, taught theatre. His listening to them argue.” art critic and a driving force sense of his eye,” Bartholomew holomew jokingly refers to attempt to come to terms with his father, Richard Bartholomew, had Thirty-three years later, Bart- behind the national art move- says. “I guess a son is always in it—intimate portraits of his wife, father and to restore honour to his recently returned from travelling holomew found himself at ment, had taught Bartholomew awe of his father. Because he’s a the children sticking out their memory, to remind people there through the US as the curator for another crossroads. His father photography in the dark room at man of many crafts, he brings in tongues, a friend cartwheeling; a was so much more to the man the recently established Tibet died in 1985 (“from alcoholism”). his childhood home. So, it was different muses to play in his series of portraits of close artist beaten down by bureaucracy at House (the Delhi-based museum Bartholomew, by now an estab- only natural for the son to return work—that is much more com- and poet friends, many of them the end of his life. housing many of the Dalai Lama’s lished photojournalist, with two to the father when he felt he plex than, say, my work.” captured with their own paintings religious artefacts) and would World Press awards under his belt needed to learn something new The result of this family explora- as backdrops; and moody land- A Critic’s Eye will be on view at soon take over as secretary of the and a software company built again. “Last year, I started to look tion culminated in an exhibition scapes of India and New York. Sepia International, 148 West 24th Lalit Kala Akademi. Artists and from scratch, was professionally at my father’s images to really now showing at Sepia Interna- There is the same sense of inti- Street, New York City, until 1 poets such as M.F. Husain, secure, but personally fidgety: have a holistic sense of what tional’s New York City gallery. A macy found in Bartholomew’s August. By appointment only