Weekend Mash Up

For one reason or the other I haven't been reading much or watching any movies.  Then over the long weekend I caught up with a few movies and books.

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First up, Kaagaz ke Phool. I must have seen the songs of this movie any number of times but hadn't seen the movie itself.  Given that it is generally touted as a classic, I bought the DVD on a visit to India and finally got around to seeing it.   It turned out to be movie that had a few things to say but said it all so badly that you had to wonder if this really is the best of Hindi cinema.  Its tale of genius/creativity crushed by the world at large was well meant but given that every tired trope and stereotype from the adoring ingenue to an insufferable wife (I must note that many Guru Dutt movies are laced with a certain kind of misogyny) are present in the movie, it makes for tortuous viewing.  The film is at its best when immersed in the workaday life of films and it goes against the grain of popular cinema in being relentlessly pessimistic about the chances of sustaining both creativity and love in this world.  The people who Dutt casts are also regulars  (including of course Murthy, Dutt's photographer) so there's something of the sweetness of the man himself that comes through. But it's hardly up there with an early Ray or Ghatak or even Tamil movies like Parashakti and Andha Naal. If anything it illustrates the perils of straddling the conventions of both art and commercial cinema.  And like many an Indian film it harbours the contradiction of an often laboured, naive and embarrassing narrative punctuated by sublime songs.  In the songs, the films seem to find exactly what is to be said - Waqt ne Kiya for e.g is pure art even on repeated viewing - pity about the rest of the film.  And sadly, Johnny Walker, so delightful in all his songs, is otherwise completely insufferable. 

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Talking of songs, the somewhat cheesy remix of Kitni Akeli has been on high rotation :-)

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I was unable to read more than a few pages of How we are Hungry. The general reviews of McSweeneys and The Believer seemed to suggest tweeness.  So I was predisposed to give Away We Go, which is scripted by Dave Eggers and his wife, a skip.  I did however watch it and was unexpectedly charmed.  Some of the criticism regarding its smugness is true.  Still, this tale of a couple expecting a child who travel everywhere only to return to a sense of home is sweet.  It's central theme really is that each couple works out in their own way what they want their family to be.  This is admittedly compromised by the farcical nature of some of the families the couple meets on their journey (the redneck mom, the nutty leftist etc. etc.) and perhaps lead to the charge of smugness.  But on the whole this is such a gentle, sweetly tart movie that I quite liked it.  And on a reading, The Believer was not bad either.

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Also got around to reading a long held copy of Tom Stoppard's Arcadia.  It is many years since I read a play and this one was brilliant.  It is witty, beautifully mixes science (thermodynamic, chaos, fractals) and art and moves easily through the centuries.  Stoppard wears his erudition lightly and I think every bit of praise that Arcadia has garnered is more than well deserved. 

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The ABC had a decent, detailed documentary on Walt Whitman which stirred memories of a long ago reading of Leaves of Grass. Which I must read again.  Here's Whitman on animals:

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd,
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.
So they show their relations to me and I accept them,
They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in their possession.

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The doco of course made reference to Whitman's homosexuality. Which reminded me of a recent visit to the airport and the tender kisses and farewells exchanged between an Indian boy and his Chinese boyfriend. Sydney is by and large tolerant and this has an effect - I have an Indian friend here who quickly progressed from being homophobic to acceptance. The ordinary, matter of fact nature of the exchange is a measure of how much things have changed and how much they will continue to change.

The Cousin's Artwork

Like my brother, my cousin Sneha has been drawing since she was a child.   A few pieces of hers found their way to me so I thought I would put up a sampler of her work today.

First up a squirrel she did in her art class, perhaps when she was about 8-10.  We of course thought it was brilliant and were rather proud!

Last year she gifted me a pencil sketch of me aged 10 (below).  The basis for the drawing is a photograph taken by my uncle, then recently returned from a trip to Japan and armed with a new camera.  The photograph belongs to a set of his beautifully taken B&W pictures which was my first introduction to the idea that a photograph was both a record of daily life and a piece of art.  Already in '75, there was something timeless about those photographs and this drawing does justice to the particular photograph.  A bit of trivia-the polka dot frock was known as the "Bobby Frock",  after the movie of the same name.  And my love for off beat hair ribbons is already evident in this drawing/photograph, this one was a plaited white one that ended in tassles. 

During her visit here, also last year, she did a few sketches of skylines.  This is by no means the Sydney skyline but simply one that was inspired by it and one I like very much. 

The Gentlewoman

I read a Jezebel post on new magazines which left me mildly curious about a magazine that called itself The Gentlewoman. An issue has made it's way to our shores (it appears to be a UK magazine and they reach here fairly quickly) so I picked up a copy.

It is not earth changing by any means, it is after all to some extent a fashion mag, but it isn't a bad read. As it's title suggests, it is rather elegant in tone. And its editorial sets the mood by championing "optimism, sincerity and ingenuity" as opposed to the "cynical cool of recent decades". The inside pages reveal a decent variety of concerns as opposed to the celeb, goss, fashion mix of many women's magazines.

I particularly liked a piece on Josephine Chime which is basically on girls who cycle (Modern Transport).  And the one on Japanese architect Kazuyo Sejima. 

There is also the requisite amount of eye candy: slender girls in trendy clothes kind of thing though some are artfully composed as with a piece on two friends, one short and the other tall.  A few are in B&W and are rather elegant (that word again) and timeless.

The red flowers are of course not a part of the magazine.  I picked up these fallen rosea blooms on a walk and before they faded I wanted to capture some of their beauty. I like to think they both absorb the beauty of The Gentlewoman and give back some of their own.

Spring Summer Winter

Each morning at the train station, I stand under a group of middling height trees waiting for the train. In the middle of the group is the bauhinia. The others I have yet to identify. For the large part the bauhinia retains its leaves, though it briefly flowers closer to summer.

This picture of the bauhinia taken in early spring:

The same tree flowering in early summer.  This bauhinia has pale white flowers as opposed to the more common pink.

As winter is setting in, the bauhinia has still retained its leaves.  But the tree next to it has shed most of its.  The rain has been incessant and water drips off the leaves. The mornings are blue with the cold and rain. The station lights remain on till late morning.

Whatever be the season, there is something comforting and familiar about this patch of green. And it serves as a small reminder that life is not merely a series of tasks carried out within the concrete structures we inhabit.

Dilemma

Today Savithri is placed in a quandary and her loyalties and ambitions are tested. And are we in for a Pride &Prejudice or North & South romance?!

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As a follow up, Savithri contacted four other merchants and was surprised that they had decided to sell their firms and seek new investments. Savithri thought Manilal might share the same view and that she might have to seek a new job. When Savithri reported this to Manilal he replied, “'I will not sell or close down the business. My father had built it with hard work and passed it on to me as a Trust. I will not let him down”.

Savithri then thought that Manilal could absorb the loss for some time and a rate war was inevitable. However she was surprised to find that Sathya was selling the same branded machines and spares at much below the cost, yet still earning profits. She had yet to learn of unscrupulous methods used by new entrepreneurs. She decided to find out the cause. She decided to put Raju, who was by now studying in a college, on the job. But then unexpectedly, Savithri had the occasion to meet Sathya at a trade exhibition. Contrary to her expectations, Sathya was handsome and charming. He shook her hands with a smile which appeared to be genuine. He said, “Miss Savithri I have heard a lot about you and your efficiency. I hope we will be meeting soon again”.

Manilal had suddenly left for Bombay. Savthri was in charge. Two days later Savithri received an invitation from Sathya for a coffee meeting. Her first reaction was to reject the invitation but curiosity overwhelmed her and she went to the meeting. Sathya was very attentive and told about his future plans. Though it was not boring, Savithri was not interested. She was about to end the meeting on some pretext and leave. Sathya then took her by surprise. He said, “I have outlined all my plans to you with a purpose. If you agree to be a partner in my business we can achieve more.” Savithri had decided earlier to say “no” to any proposal - personal or otherwise - but she replied, “I will consider the offer and will let you know in a few days”.

Another surprise awaited her. The next day Manilal came to the office very early in the morning. When Savithri arrived he called her in. Savithri told him about the meeting she had with Sathya, but did not mention his offer. Then Manilal said, “I went to Bombay to meet a few merchants and found they were in the same position. They were thinking in terms of branching out to other businesses. I do not feel confident to meet the new situation. I have therefore decided to entrust the business to you”. Savithri protested but Manilal was firm.

Savithri pondered over the sudden developments in the night. When she came to Chennai, she had no idea of what the future held for her. She would have been satisfied with any steady job which provided a comfortable life for her and mother. Now fate had placed her in a dilemma. On the one hand was Manilal's declining business and on the other hand was the attractive offer of Sathya. She was more inclined to accept Sathya's offer but her inner self warned her that Sathya was untrustworthy and Manilal had been kind and generous. Yet she felt that she could not reject Sathya's offer. For the first time she got up the next morning without a firm decision.

Meanwhile dramatic changes took place in the political and economic policies of the Government. India was seeking to be a “democratic socialist republic”. This had an impact on traders like Manilal.

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Though incomplete, I will be finishing up blogging the grandfather's stories today. To be resumed at an hitherto unknown date......

A Competitor

Today Savithri proves her mettle and – excitement! – is a new man about to enter her life? And unlike their mythical counterparts, are they about to engage in battle?!

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Manilal's father had formed the trust to provide scholarships to deserving students. A number of bogus applications poured in, sifting through these posed the biggest headache for Manilal. Savithri was able to weed out such applications. In the first few months of her employment, Manilal noticed Savithri's quick grasp of matters and her efficiency. He felt Savithri would be an asset in his firm. The family's business was in machinery and spares. In those days most of these were imported. Manilal got a margin of 15% to 20% on machinery and a little more than that on spares. His firm had a steady share of 40% of the market. Perhaps because of this, Manilal could afford to be ethical in his dealings and indulge his philanthropy. Savithri soon became Manilal’s most trusted employee. She had meanwhile shifted her residence to a bigger portion; Raju was a regular visitor to her house.

In 1947, with Partition lakhs of refugees poured in and spread throughout our country. Sathya Prakash, a Punjabi, was one such refugee. At the time of Partition, he was working in a key position in a reputed firm dealing with machinery at Karachi. He decided to set up his own firm with Chennai as his base. His refugee status and his Punjabi connections ensured import licences. The restrictions imposed by the Government he dodged through his ingenuity. He was happy with a margin of 5%. Gradually, he was able to cut into the business of other merchants. Manilal was one of the affected merchants and he did not know how to deal with this situation. It was left to Savithi to enter the battleground.

In Sethji's Employ

Taking up again from where we left off. Savithri's father died, she returned home. In today's post, she enters the then thin ranks of working women. 

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In the train, Savithri learnt that she could get a portion for rent at Mandevali. In this area lived the “hand to mouth” class. Each house had 4 or 5 tenants and the area under the possession of a tenant was a portion. Once the funeral rites were over, Savithri and her mother took a train to Egmore station from where they took a rickshaw to Mandevali. Savithri enquired around for a place and a kindly old lady took her to a house where there was a vacant portion. Savithri’s search for a job then began in earnest. These were days of recession and few establishments had vacancy boards. Even then Savithri ventured into some offices. She found that she had a new problem, employers wanted experienced hands. With few options, she continued with her futile search. One such day she met woman carrying a tin. Having little else to do, she walked along with the lady. This lady had been abandoned by her husband and was left to fend for herself. She had come to Chennai and was now selling appalams door to door. As the quality was good, her clientele increased and she even had a few orders for the lucrative marriage season. Of course it entailed hard work from dawn to dusk - preparing the dough, rolling appalams, drying and distributing but it gave her a good income. The lady lived with confidence and dignity. Now Savithri learnt that a woman need not be an employee of somebody but could be self employed. But appalams was not her line. She had never entered a kitchen, her education she hoped would get her a job.

In those days, colleges were very few and high schools were not many. Parents wanted their sons to earn as early as possible at the expense of their education. But the boys themselves were keen to study against all odds. One such boy was Raju. He was studying in a high school and was the son of a co-tenant of Savithri. This gentleman had no regular income. He was an assistant to a cook and got work when the cook got assignments. His family had however burgeoned every other year. With a child due soon and in keeping with the nature of parents of the time, he expected Raju to quit studies and start earning. Raju too felt that he should earn at least to pay for his school fees and expenses. He decided to cash in on his skill of portrait sketching.

The vast Marina beach provides a livelihood to many even today. Then too the vendors of drinking water, herbs, fortune tellers, malishwallas, owners of ponies and so on had a floating clientele at the beach. The vendors income was small but enough to keep body and soul together. Raju started offering his sketching services at the beach. His earnings were sufficient to meet his expenses and at times he was able to give some money to his mother.

Seth Manilalji, a young Gujarati businessman, was a regular at the beach for his evening walk. One day he got into his head to get his portrait sketched by Raju. Sethji liked the sketch so much that he asked Raju to visit his house to draw sketches of his two children. This visit developed into a sort of friendship between them.

Raju was narrating all this to Savithri, when she discussed her problem with him. Raju suggested that he could talk to Sethji regarding her employment. Savithri agreed. Sethiji was managing a trust founded by his late father. He needed somebody to assist him in this work. When Raju approached Sethji, he offered the job to Savithri. Savithri was now working and her office was located in a small room in the ground floor of the Sethji’s bungalow.

Boonmee up Joe

Tropical Malady is a very strange ride but ultimately a mesmerising one. The movie is split into two seemingly disconnected halves. To me the first part of the movie is full of the quotidian – an immersion in modern Asian life so to speak – and the second half is like the details of an oral folk tale of some ancient past resurrected out of the surrounding forests. Somehow the two just mesh - it's a pity that Indian cinema cannot conjure up anything that is so verite and yet so feverish and mystical. Apichatpong's (aka Joe) work is not for everyone but it is truly original.

Well, the director has been at it again and this movie seems to have been a Cannes winner. I have a few of the director's films thanks to a Thailand visit but they are generally thin on the ground. Maybe the Cannes win will change it, though I can't exactly see a stampede, even amongst art house afficiandos.

Vita et Laura

Vita Sackville West is better known as Virginia Woolf’s lover and the inspiration for Woolf’s playful novel on gender, Orlando. But she was a well known novelist in her time and the love of her life was not Woolf, but a volatile socialite, Violet Trefusis. Or was the love of her life really her husband, Harold? Portrait of a Marriage, based on her son’s book, essentially deals with the Vita-Violet-Harold triangle and comes to no conclusion. Or maybe I dozed off because it is one of those dull, stodgy British teleserials of which I have had my fill. But it did boast a very good performance from Janet McTeer as Vita which partially salvaged the film. Her portrayal is neither butch nor feminine (clearly Violet is the delicious feminine in their relationship). Instead it’s truly androgynous and suggestive of the sexual slipperiness of the Bloomsbury crowd, many of who were in heterosexual marriages while conducting a range of relationships. The androgynous quality of the performance is somewhat similar to that of Tilda Swinton’s portrayal of Orlando though McTeer is clearly portraying a real person while Swinton’s strangeness fits the mythical Orlando like the proverbial glove. Orlando itself is a singular visual concoction with terrific visuals in which Violet appears as the temperamental Russian princess, Sasha. The fictional tale, which is much more than the Vita-Violet/Orlando-Sasha tale, is far superior to the real one which is perhaps of moderate interest only to those who follow the private lives of writers. Maybe it could have been redeemed by Sackville-West’s travels to Persia, her novels, the literary milieu of the time and the like but as it stands, it wasn’t very interesting.

I haven’t seen too many films of late, perhaps that accounted for my finding Portrait of a Marriage uninteresting. But I did see Little Jerusalem on SBS yesterday and while I am still a little undecided on how I feel about it, it held my attention. Karin Albou, who also directed The Wedding Song, often focuses on the Jewish and Muslim communities of North Africa.  Little Jerusalem is largely concentrated on the Tunisian Orthodox Jewish community in France and the tugs and pulls of the larger world, in particular and surprisingly the philosophical world, on its heroine, Laura. But most of all, like The Wedding Song, it brings out the sensual and tactile elements of female life and the tender, prickly nature of feminine relationships. Albou’s films are not flawless but they do have a mesmerising quality about them.

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Nest week, I hope to be able to continue the granddad’s Savitri series.

Australian Etsy

A pictorial post today.

I haven’t shopped much on Etsy but I do have a browse around once in awhile. Its rise and rise is astonishing and instructive in part because it’s a marketplace where women are the primary sellers and buyers. Sure it has strayed from its handmade pledge, perhaps much of it is driven by college educated women and much dross can be found on it. But that it came about at all I think provides plenty of material for a sociological and business analysis. At times, its overwhelming femininity can get far too twee but it can be a wonderful mirror of the myriad creative interests and abilities of women today. Today a few pictures from a couple of Australian etsyers.

Top Left: Spontaneous, unstructured clothes from Rawhemline; Top Right: Sweet jewellery pieces from michvanetta; Bottom Left: Delicate Photography from Waytoblue and Bottom Right: abstract artwork from gretchenmist - this one was example is "Native Garden Stripes".