The melody and malady of art
ANJANA RAJAN
|
It's party time for artistes and audiences, but is art suffering in the process?
|
When winter comes to India's metropolitan cities, it is party time for artistes and audiences alike. Delhi's deepening chill means rising heat in rehearsal rooms and auditoriums, as the performance calendars of classical dancers and musicians fill up.
The most famous `season' of them all is the Madras Music Season, also known across the world as the December season, although it now lasts at least into the middle of January. Hundreds of programmes take place across the city from morning till night.
Such an array of choice for the audiences! And it's not just a question of deciding which concert to attend, which to give a miss to, which to witness half-way before dashing over to another venue. There are wardrobes to be chosen too. Silk saris and designer kurtas are as much noticed as the latest trends in raga singing.
As for schedules, a certain logic rules. Usually, the big stars are slotted late in the evening, while the lesser known names perform in the mornings and afternoons. But with sabhas competing for audiences like television channels, perfectly competent artistes might find themselves performing before an audience of 10 people. Some bring their own friends to fill the seats. This is a fine idea, since these performances are usually non-ticketed. Never mind that they applaud at every turn as if the artiste has performed wonders!
Another way artistes vie for audiences is to impress them with astounding skills. In the process, dancers turn into athletes, the singers become mathematicians, concentrating on creating complicated swara patterns and akaar that would do an endurance runner proud. The jatis of the dancers become longer and longer.
The rhythmic patterns turn into jawbreakers. The result: less melody, more hard work. Everybody is keyed up. There seems to be nothing soothing under the sun. Whoever said art is an expression of the soul may as well turn uncomfortably in the grave. No one will notice, since there is so much noise going on in the name of `impact', the noise from underground would not be heard.
Taking folks for granted
Perhaps this phenomenon is only to be expected if `performance' is replaced by `show', and, `art' becomes synonymous with `performance'. Ultimately the audience gets taken for granted. The logic often goes: get away with lots of `dhoom dhamaka', how many are there to question you?
Then there is the strain that is a consequence of the whole `season' frenzy. When people buy tickets for a performance in one auditorium, only to find the singer has a sore throat, is it any excuse to say the strained vocal chords are the result of having sung at several venues in the past few days? This audience has come to this particular concert, and it amounts to cheating them.
The Chennai season has developed another peculiar malady. Artistes rarely if ever get monetary compensation to cover their costs of performance. Yet they are willing to `invest' money in lakhs of rupees, paying for their own and their accompanists' travel, accommodation and boarding over a month, only because they are sure programme organisers from abroad will see them, invite them for a foreign tour and indirectly compensate them for the money spent now. This policy rules out those artistes who lack the capital but not the talent. Awards too seem to be bought and sold, but this is a nationwide phenomenon.
Printer friendly
page
Send this article to Friends by
E-Mail
Entertainment
Bangalore
Chennai and Tamil Nadu
Delhi
Hyderabad
Thiruvananthapuram
