Just as the matriarch of the Tamil household in Chennai dots her porch with a kolam at the crack of dawn every day, women of the Parsi community pretty up theirs with what they call a ‘chalk’.
“It’s just like the kolam, except we have readymade tins with holes designed in them so all we need to do is fill them with rice flour and tap them on the ground,” said Tehnaz Bahadurji, a Parsi resident of Chennai, who spoke on the history, culture and practices of her community at Alliance Francaise on Tuesday. Her lecture, which was organised by the Indian National Trust for Arts and Cultural Heritage (INTACH), traced how the Parsis migrated to India, how they trickled into Chennai and finally, how they live and, most important, dine.
While the first wave of Parsis settled in Gujarat centuries ago, the first Parsi to come to Chennai was Heerjibhai Kharas, who came here in the 1800s, said Bahadurji, who added that the government gave the community land in 1814, on which a Fire Temple was built more than a century later. The Parsi Fire Temple celebrated its centenary in the city in 2010.
Bahadurji then went on to list the famous Parsis past and present in Chennai – the most prominent among them being social activist and philanthropist Mary Clubwallah Jadhav (who died in 1975), who received the Padma Shri, Padma Bhushan and Padma Vibhushan from the government.
“The Parsis and Iranis were also involved in the cinema industry in Chennai. We built four theatres – the Elphinstone Theatre, the New Elphinstone Theatre, Wellington Theatre, and the Casino Theatre (which still stands on Anna Salai),” said Bahadurji.
When she got to the culture of the Parsi community, which has now dwindled to just 60,000 people in India, Bahadurji spoke of how several traditions were on the verge of dying out. The tradition of the ‘thoran’ for instance, which was used to decorate the doors of Parsi homes.
When she spoke of the ‘gaara’, the Parsi saree, Bahadurji talked of how in the old days women wore their sarees over their heads with only one ear exposed. “That’s the reason why you will find that Parsi jewellery sets in the old days came with only one earring. The jewelers probably figured they did not have to bother making two since the women always had one ear covered,” she said.
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Chennai / TNN / March 05th, 2015
Sam Paul at Jonah’s goes to Japan. Photo: M. Karunakaran / The Hindu
From educational institutions and restaurants to gyms and styling salons, Sam Paul has ventured into a slew of businesses. The city businessman tells why he’s always looking for new frontiers to conquer.
There are two men, employed by Sam Paul, who look after newspaper clippings.
Every morning, Sam wakes up at 7, fits in an hour of exercise and then, sits down to scan the local papers. Since 2004, from the first mention of the launch of Casa Piccola in Chennai, he’s collected about 500 news clippings of himself. He often makes it to the papers for something or the other; news about the latest Toni & Guy store launch, party pictures, involvement in charity activities and social, news about his acting venture in the upcoming movie Patra… even the smallest mention, he clips, files, indexes and laminates. “We need some cheap thrills, no?” laughs Sam.
The reason he values these clippings and takes such care in making sure they are preserved is because, he says, he treasures the recognition and appreciation that comes his way. “This is achievement! I am well-heeled — I own a house, I drive a Porsche. I have good people working for me. What else do I need?”
Sam, who has been the reason for the arrival of many big brands in the city, schooled here. He holds a Bachelors and Masters degree in Engineering and followed it up with a doctorate from College of Engineering, Guindy. He started working with his father, helping manage educational institutions owned by the family, had many grand business ideas which his father disagreed to and eventually, was asked to leave home for being too rebellious.
Relentless, Sam worked to prove himself, sleeping on the floor of his friend’s place in the meantime. Using the money he earned, and then some, he opened Casa Piccola in 2004, which was all the rage those days. “I just wanted to show my father that I was capable of earning my own money. But from there to where I am right now, it’s all God’s grace. Nothing else.”
Over a decade later, he has chiselled an identity for himself as a restaurateur in Chennai. He manages Crimson Chakra, Haagen-Dazs and Jonah’s Bistro. His latest, Jonah’s goes to Japan, in collaboration with Momoyama, introduces an Asian twist to the existing European menu designed by ‘MADChef’ Kaushik. “Right now, I’m tripping on Japanese,” grins Sam.
At the launch of the restaurant, Sam bustles about, greeting old friends and making new ones. He’s a people’s person; no doubt about it. He says he has the knack to identify the right ones too. “My greatest asset is that my staff have remained with me… it’s important to have the right people,” says Sam, adding that the same men who worked at Casa Piccola are cooking up a storm in Jonah’s kitchen too.
As the dishes stream out, Sam talks about the peasant origins of the beef goulash, fusses over the amount of fish in the seafood broth and insists that the chicken parmigiana would pair better with mashed potato, as opposed to spaghetti. “I’ve been doing this since 2004, you start to know a little by now,” chuckles the foodie.
This, however, is not all that he knows. In 2010, sometime in between opening new restaurants, managing educational institutions and being responsible for the mushrooming of Toni & Guy outlets in the city, he got bored of all that he was doing and bounded off to study law at the Government Law College. “I was 32 years old at that time, and I sat with these boys who were 18-19 years old and studied for three years. In fact, I got debarred for six months for not having enough attendance,” laughs Sam. He now practises law at the High Court and works with N. Chandrasekaran, Special Public Prosecutor for CBI cases.
That hardly confines him from juggling other things though: Sam just acted in a film and is producing another. He’s looking to do some celebrity DJing born out of a love for music and the request of a few friends. Keeping in line with body building titles that Sam won when he was in University, he launched a new project last month — Slam, the fitness studio. He is further looking to expand the Jonah’s brand and working to bring Doner Kebab to India, because, he says, “I am very particular about my kebabs.”
“That’s the greatest thing in life: to be able to do what you want. If I want to do something, I just have to think of the way to do it professionally… it’s all about God’s grace and having the right people by your side.” smiles the 37-year-old.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus / by Raveena Joseph / March 03rd, 2015
The civic body began its Coimbatore Guinness Championship Campaign on Sunday to clean up the city. Despite facing a shortage of sanitary workers and push carts, the civic body officials roped in hundreds of volunteers and college students to go around the city collecting litter and promote source segregating.
The championship will begin on Wednesday after officials purchase push carts and begin to evaluate workers, said K Vijayakarthikeyan, corporation commissioner. The challenge will end on March 11, he added.
On Monday, officials inspected six wards and instructed sanitary workers to begin the championship. “Around 20 volunteers from NGOs have been allotted to each ward. Each zone will have a non-governmental organisation leading the effort. A team of sanitary inspectors and corporation officials will monitor them and evaluate their work.
“A jury will judge the best zone, best ward and best team,” said Suresh Bhandari, co-ordinator of Clean Cities Foundation.
Each ward would require at least 15 push carts but have been provided only seven push carts, said an official.
The civic body aims to create awareness about source segregation through this championship, as volunteers will go door to door to educate residents on segregating waste at source into three parts-wet, dry and hazardous. “The dry waste which is plastic waste will be weighed at collection centres such as ward offices and sold to companies. Workers will earn 4 per kg. The wet waste will be transported to Vellalore dump yard,” said Sri Rangaraj, sanitary inspector, central zone. Officials will evaluate every sanitary worker based on five criteria such as appearance, work skills, segregation, weighing and cleaning.
The volunteers have informed hotels, residents of apartments and other commercial complexes to segregate waste and hand it over to workers. “We have distributed around two lakh contest cards to school students who will get it signed by their parents. They will receive certificates from the corporation at the end of the championship,” said a higher official.
Registrations are taking place through a website and a missed call service-814436000-has been activated. As on Sunday evening, 2,500 residents had registered on the website and 300 had registered through the missed calls service. “We have already reached the two lakh mark so far. If the numbers increase, it will help us win with a bigger margin,” said Suresh.
On March 5, Dr Sanjay Gupta, coordinator of the Guinness Book of World records will visit the city to instruct them on the methodology. “Since the verification of two lakh contest cards will take a few weeks, we are hopeful that by the end of March, we will get the results and will enter the Guinness Book of world records,” added an official. While activists said that the championship was a gimmick to divert attention from the Vellalore dump yard issues, corporation officials maintained that they were planning to set up at least 15 segregation sheds after the championship ends.
“We will make sure that the drive continues even after the championship ends,” said a higher official.
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Coimbatore / TNN / March 03rd, 2015
Satyajit Ray astonished me at our first meeting. I had trotted out various Santiniketan connections I expected him to know. He looked at me for a moment while I felt his brain darting through the lanes and bylanes of the genealogical network. Then he said, “You must be related to Bussa Susheila Das!” It was the last name I expected to hear from the Maestro. Bussamami – whose death last week, three years short of a century, must be counted a merciful release – was the most fashionable, Anglicized and probably richest of my relatives. In georgette and furs, sporting a long cigarette-holder, she was a vision of elegant grandeur, the Last Burra Memsahib. When I told her about Ray, she said, “It must be because of Keshub Sen!”
If so, the Brahmo Samaj meant more to Ray than anyone imagined. Although neither Bussamami nor her husband, Mohie R. Das, had set foot in a Brahmo temple for many years, she was Brahmananda Keshub Chunder Sen’s great granddaughter. She was also the great granddaughter of General Sir Edward Barnes, India’s commander-in-chief and governor of Ceylon. That connection was embarrassingly highlighted when Bussamami stayed with us in Singapore. On the day she arrived, the afternoon tabloid, New Paper, which normally confined itself to sensational local tidbits, went to town with an unexpected cover story on Barnes and his Ceylonese mistress. As governor, he lived in what is today Colombo’s Mount Lavinia Hotel from which a secret underground tunnel snaked away to his inamorata’s dwelling. Bussamami wasn’t disconcerted.
She had flown in wearing a saree. It was her habitual garb when travelling abroad she explained. “I get better service.” At one time people laughingly called her “Susheila please!” because of her strenuous but unsuccessful efforts to banish the Bussa nickname. She was indignant when a British Indian woman in Singapore asked why she didn’t have a British passport. “Why should I?” she retorted. “India is my home. I’m Indian. I have property there.” The patrial clause in British immigration law would at once have granted her British citizenship. But people like her didn’t need to emigrate to raise their living standards or become Westernized. They easily did both in India. Her sister, Moneesha Chaudhuri, whose husband was the first Indian head of Andrew Yule, the biggest British managing agency in India, and an army chief’s brother, was also like that. She once refused the then whites-only Saturday Club’s invitation to play the piano in a concert under her English mother’s maiden name. “After all, you could pass for English,” they pleaded. She didn’t take it as a compliment.
Singaporeans found it intriguing that Bussamami and I were related twice over. She and my mother were second cousins, great granddaughters of Annada Charan Khastagir, who presided over an All-India National Conference session in 1883, preparatory to the Indian National Congress being launched two years later. Her husband, Mohiemama, and my mother were first cousins, grandchildren of Bihari Lal Gupta, who was responsible for the Ilbert Bill, which led to the AINC and INC. She and her husband being related, the marriage presented difficulties: one version for which I can’t vouch was they went to French Chandernagore for the registration.
Mohiemama’s father, S.R. Das, founded Doon School. He himself was the first Indian head of Mackinnon Mackenzie, the Inchcape shipping giant. When he joined Mackinnon’s exalted band of covenanted hands (UK-based officers who had signed a contract with the company) in England, the Numbers One, Two and Three were known in inverse order as Three, Two and One. Those figures indicated their monthly salary in lakhs of rupees. Mohiemama’s ways were upper-class English, the legacy of public school in Britain and Cambridge. My son, Deep, quoted Bussamami in this newspaper (“Learning To Speak Like The Masters”, October 13, 2004) as saying when asked if her husband went to Mill Hill or Millfield school, “Mill Hill of course. Millfield was only for the post-war nouveau riche!” Being dark and heavily built, he borrowed a turban from Maharaja Sawai Man Singh II of Jaipur – husband of the beautiful Gayatri Devi, who was Bussamami’s cousin – to visit America in the Fifties. He enjoyed describing how he clamped the turban on his head before entering restaurants in the American Deep South.
They settled down in a gracious villa called Faraway in remote Coonoor. But their world straddled Calcutta, Darjeeling, Hong Kong, London and the south of France. Or rather, small gilded niches in all these places, with extensions to Simla, Colombo and Singapore. World War II and the 300 Club had lent zest to their cosmopolitan set. Not everyone could come to grips with this dizzy diversity. Raj Thapar, wife of Seminar magazine’s Romesh Thapar, betrayed her own provincialism by dismissing Bussamami in All These Years as “an erstwhile crooner”. Yes, she, Moneeshamashi and their only brother K.C. (Bhaiya or Kacy) Sen were all gifted musicians. In her youth, Bussamami had indeed given music lessons in Calcutta, and Moneeshamashi continued to do so for free at St Paul’s School, Darjeeling. But the sleaziness that Thapar’s comment sought to convey just didn’t go with the Ingabanga (Satyendranath Tagore’s term for Anglicized Bengalis) elite.
Kacy called his delightful memoirs The Absolute Anglo-Indian. He wasn’t “a person whose father or any of whose other male progenitors in the male line is or was of European descent, but who is a native of India”, which is how the Government of India Act, 1935, defines Anglo-Indian. Nevertheless, his was the culture of the Rangers Club, Grail Club and the club of which he says “if ever there was a place that separated the men from the boys, and no angels feared to tread, it was the good old Golden Slipper”. I was struck as a child by his imaginative wedding invitation, “Bridgette and I are going to be married at the Golden Slipper Club.” His Cavaliers was a popular band. He frequently compered at the Oberoi Grand Hotel’s open-air Scherezade night club, which occupied the space now taken up by the swimming pool.
He provided Ray with Devika Halder aka Vicky Redwood for Mahanagar “over a cup of tea on the verandah” of his flat. The voice off-screen in Mahanagar was Devika’s, but the song was a ballad, Time Gave Me No Chance, he had composed in his rowing days. Major Sharat Kumar Roy of the American army was an unusual wartime buddy and surely the only Indian to be commemorated by a mountain in Greenland: he discovered Mount Sharat. Laced into the light-hearted banter of Sen’s memoirs was the fear that the “Absolute Anglo-Indian” would become the “Obsolete Anglo-Indian”.
Bussamami built personal bridges to very different milieus. Cooch Behar, Mayurbhanj, Jaipur, Nandgaon and other royals, some also descendants of Keshub Sen, were relatives and intimates. When I mentioned the novelist, Maurice Dekobra, she told me she had known him as the Paris-born, Maurice Tessier. Axel Khan, whom I met as India’s ambassador in pre-unification Berlin, was another old friend. Rumer Godden produced a flood of memories, which were borne out by Ann Chisholm’s biography, Rumer Godden: A Storyteller’s Life. Her apology for arriving late for dinner with my wife and I in our Calcutta flat was that she had got lost in the suburban lanes to Kanan’s house. Kanan who? She meant the legendary star, Kanan Devi, whom the young Bussamami had taught her dancing steps in the Thirties. They had remained friends ever since.
The real burra memsahib didn’t need to keep up appearances. Neither did she have to try to be stylish. To adapt the Comte de Buffon, the style was the woman herself. There won’t be another like her.
source: http://www.telegraphindia.com / The Telegraph, Calcutta / Front Page> Story / by Sunanda K. Datta-Ray / Saturday – February 28th, 2015
A view of flowing of the Vaigai river and pathway for pedestrains at Madurai. Photo: The Hindu Archives
Curious explorers, a two-member dance company that visited beautiful Madurai and a page out of the archives…. Dr. Swarnamalya Ganesh shares her findings.
India was a place of great curiosity and interest to many westerners in the early parts of the 20th century. Notwithstanding the threats about epidemic diseases and unhygienic surroundings, many from America and Europe dared the adventure and lived to write their own memoirs.
Ted Shawn and Ruth St Denis, who formed a company and was a couple in real life, known as Denishawn, were American dancers. Today considered the founding parents of American modern dance, they travelled to India as part of their grand tour of the Orient between 1925 and 1926 CE. Their interest in the East and particularly in India owed it to St. Denis’s obsession with the Nautch and the dancer. Initially Ruth’s disciple, Ted Shawn became her dancing partner and husband. Shawn was also drawn to Indian dances. He was especially interested in the Nataraja Tatva and the dance of Lord Siva.
In May 1926, towards the fag end of their Indian tour, the company travelled to Madras, to perform. They had visited many North Indian cities like Lucknow, Benaras, Calcutta and Hyderabad in the South, before coming to Madras. Wherever the company travelled they dressed themselves in native costumes and posed for pictures, shopped for Indian artefacts and tried to see the local dances. Shawn and Ruth’s particular interest in Nautch had them always searching for performances, perhaps to absorb more from the ‘authentic’ into Ruth’s already staged Radha and Nautch repertoire. But in the 1920s it was rather difficult for foreigners to go into the interior dwellings of dancers and watch their performances, unless invited. In his account, Shawn laments that they could only see some street performers. He of course, calls these as nautch too but remarks that they are “quite not up-to-the-mark.”
However, when they come to Madras they are greeted by, one Mr. Krishnaswamy Rao who, as the last leg of their Indian trip before taking the ship to Colombo, arranges a visit to Madura (Majura or Madurai). Upon the recommendation and arrangement made by Dr. A.K. Coomaraswamy (whose writings and guidance Ted took to create his Indian dances like the Cosmic Dance of Siva), Ted Shawn, Ruth St. Denis along with their company dancers which had Doris Humphery and her likes in it, readied themselves to watch the dance of a devadasi named Kamalambal in Madurai.
Here is his observation:
“Kamalambal, a temple deva-dassi, danced for us for several hours. She was technically very fine and attractive in a plump way, and an extremely wonderful pantomimist. She was quite the finest we had seen in all of India,” Shawn exclaims. He also admires the beauty of Madurai and compares it to Benaras calling the city a “dream or something read in a book.”
Madurai Kamalambal during one of her performances.
The beauty of Madurai with its teeming South Indians seems to have really captured the dancers. Records Shawn, “The men with their heads shaven half way back and a bush of hair on the rear half, wearing the scantiest bit of goods in the way of a G-string that I ever saw, as their only garment, the women heavily swathed in thick, but richly coloured cotton saris, made the city itself exciting.”
During my recent research of the Denishawn archives, parts of important ethnographic details such as these pictures emerged. One of the missions of the company during the travels to the Orient was to take pictures and video footage (film reels) of Indian lives, music and art. Their visits to the bazaars of Calcutta, Palaces in Lucknow, tea party gardens where Ruth is dressed as a Nautch dancer and is posing are all archived. Photograph and video filming were done by Ruth St. Denis’s brother who was called “Brother St. Denis” or simply “brother.” His actual name was Rene St Denis and he was their travel manager as well for this tour.
The photo here is a picture taken a few days after May 10, 1926, which is when the company gave their last performance in India at Madras. Then they travelled to Madurai to watch Kamalambal (picture). She is seen here with her team (Sadir melam) comprising a nattuvan, a pilangrovi player, a muttukaran and another player with what seems like a clarionet. This photograph has been doing the rounds for years now as part of Sadir archives, but it is only now that we get to know the name of the dancer, date and the place it was photographed in and the photographer’s name.
Kamalambal and her team with the dance constumes.
The other photo with many girls clad in dance costume and posing, sitting and standing in front of a large tent, which is an often seen image of 20th century Sadir dancers, seems also a photo courtesy of Brother St. Denis taken. during this trip.
We thus put a name to the face in the picture and a name to the man behind the lens too. That’s the story of how Brother brings us our own Madura Kamalambal after an incredible eighty years.
(The author is a dancer, choreographer and dance historian. She is the Director of Ranga Mandira School of Performing Arts and Research Academy. As a recipient of the Fulbright fellowship, she is currently researching and teaching at University of California, Los Angeles, in the World Arts Cultures department.)
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Friday Review> History & Culture / by Dr. Swarnamalya Ganesh / February 26th, 2015
Sabrina Siga with her painting ‘Equine Elegance.’ Photo: R. Ravindran / The Hindu
Sabrina Siga tells Deepa Alexander what it means to be a sporting artist — and why 40 years after she first painted horses she still finds them captivating
The teak frame can barely contain the charging steed and its heroic windswept warrior. A naval officer’s sword clangs in the breeze. Copper port and starboard lights glint in the afternoon sun. The burnished bugle almost sounds the end of a polo chukker. Trophies line the shelves and sketches and paintings of stallions crowd the walls. This is a house that clearly celebrates the horse — an animal that, as a writer once said, carries all our history on its back.
Sabrina Siga, who is perhaps Chennai’s only sporting and animal artist, has had a lifelong love affair with horses. Her paintings, inspired by the school of Realism, capture favourite race horses, players astride polo ponies and cavaliers. They have been exhibited in galleries in London and New York, auctioned by Christie’s and Bonhams, and displayed as centrepieces in regimental messes and the private halls of Indian royalty.
“I was drawn to art even as a child,” says Sabrina, who as a boarder at St. Hilda’s, Ooty, won the top prize every year. “I was keen on studying architecture but didn’t qualify for the course and went on to pursue a degree in Fine Arts from Stella Maris College.” Colonel Brijendra Singh who chanced upon her sketches of horses in action at a Delhi game where her naval officer-international polo player-husband, Commander John J. Siga, was participating, encouraged her to quickly put together a collection. “At the 1979 Polo Ball, which used to be held at the old polo club inside the President’s Estate, I managed to sell every one of my sketches and that is how this passion was born,” she says.
It helped that Sabrina also is a rider. “When you spend time with the horse you learn to empathise with it. Your work tends to be more fluid. You observe the fall of the mane, the lay of the saddle and the dynamics of the footwork…”
It is this accuracy in capturing the spirit of the animal that has drawn many patrons to Sabrina’s art. “I do about 30 paintings a year, some of them commissioned works. A premiere of my paintings is often held to start off the polo season in Delhi,” says Sabrina. On one occasion, Arvind Singh Mewar, the Maharana of Udaipur, even flew her to Cambridge to paint his polo horses at play.
Sabrina’s work has taken her from stud farms in Pune to the green grass of the Royal Western India Turf Club, Mumbai, where she has painted the winner of the race, the jockey and owner of the horse for its galleries. She has also done portraits of the current world number 1 in polo, Adolfo Cambiaso and cavalrymen in vintage uniforms for regimental archives.
Her works hang at the National Maritime Museum, Mumbai, the Cox art gallery, London, and have featured in the U.S. magazine, Polo Players’ Edition. Sabrina was also commissioned by the Bombay Natural History Society to paint animals for their calendar and cards, following which she did a series on endangered birds and animals such as the red panda for the Maharaja of Nawanagar (Jamnagar).
Mane matters… / by Special Arrangement
Through Snaffles Fine Art Gallery, established in the 1980s, Sabrina brings home some of the thrilling moments of polo as well as the races. Naming her gallery after a bit mouthpiece for a horse, Sabrina captures the soul of the thoroughbred largely in watercolours, to which she is partial. “Being a sporting artist means being technically correct in all three — portraiture, landscape and animal painting. On the field, I quickly sketch the horses even as they gallop with the rider. I then fill in the colours. I work with Winsor & Newton watercolours or Camlin oils, depending on the medium. I prefer the English style of watercolour painting, where you carefully fill in the greens and browns and leave out the white of the paper. Watercolours go from light to dark and oils the other way round, which is why painting the first calls for greater skill. Oils can be rescued but I love watercolours because they are immediate and fresh.”
Inspired by English painters Sir Alfred Munnings, Lionel Edwards (both of whom painted equestrian sports) and the realist painter Paul S. Brown, Sabrina says with time she has changed her style. “It is no longer tight. I focus on the face, the legs and the fearless but gentle eyes — each one’s is so different, so expressive. But I keep the edges loose so that they are part of the scene.”
And so, her paintings are known for blue skies, gnarled oaks, stable scenes, crowds at the races, green turf, flying mallets and man and beast thundering across the canvas. Though sporting art does not have many takers in Chennai, it hasn’t stopped her from working on a series for an upcoming exhibition.
“These are not just manifestations of the good life. My paintings hope to capture the enigma of an animal that has been part of our history for over centuries now.”
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus / by Deepa Alexander / February 23rd, 2015
Here’s what you can expect to see at The Hindu Chennai-Pondy Heritage Car Rally
The cars headed for Puducherry illustrate the march of automobile technology. Some signify its baby steps, some others its giant strides.
Here’s what one can expect. The fleet includes a Citroen Traction Avant 11B. The Traction Avant is French for front-wheel drive. Citroen may not have introduced the world to front-wheel drive – Alvis, Cord and DKW beat Citroen to it – but it definitely popularised the concept, especially in Europe.
Hand-crafting is the mark of many cars from the past. Visitors to the rally will get to see a Volkswagen Karmann Ghia, which is one of the most exciting hand-crafted machines to emerge from the classic period.
In its days, it was a benchmark in styling.
And the traditional rivalry between British and American cars continues, with both camps being adequately represented.
A Chevrolet Fleetmaster (for representational purposes only)
The American machines on the trip include a Chevrolet Fleetmaster, Chevrolet Styleline, Chevrolet Impala, Studebaker President, Dodge Kingsway Convertible, Ford Model A, Dodge Brothers, and Packard Clipper.
The other flock includes Morris 8 Cutdoor, Morris 8 Series E, Morris Minor (Convertible), Austin Seven Chummy, Austin 8, Austin 16 and Triumph Herald.
An Austin 8 (for representational purposes only)
“The bar has been raised this year with many 5hp, 7hp and 8hp cars joining in,” says Kylas Swaminathan, secretary, Madras Heritage Motoring Club. A small group of bike owners has signed up for the rally as well, with their Matchless G3L, Royal Enfield G2, BSA C11, Triumph 3H, Suzuki RV 90L, and an MV Agusta 150 cc.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus> Society / by Prince Frederick / January 28th, 2015
Behind the scenes of the documentary. Photo: special arrangement
Independent musician Pradeep Kumar and American docu-maker Elias Bouquillon are on a mission to convey the musical essence and meaning of the Thiruppugazh. Apoorva Sripathi has the details
Little is said about the 15th Century Tamil poet-saint Arunagirinathar in today’s mainstream media. Nevertheless, he has been the subject of three films — twice in 1937 and then in 1964, the character portrayed brilliantly by playback singer T.M. Soundararajan. The saint worshipped Lord Muruga, penned the anthologyThiruppugazh and his songs are known for their complex rhythmic structure.
Chennai-based Poorvaa Productions, founded by independent musician Pradeep Kumar, celebrates the Thiruppugazh, through a musical documentary Arunagiri Perumale. The documentary features eight selected compositions from the work and is featured as live music concerts that are arranged to unravel three parallel storylines — the mythological tales of Lord Muruga in whose praise these poems are written, the historical background of the poet and the contemporary period. While the selected compositions have been recorded using a 16-piece orchestra assembled in Boston, one of the songs, ‘Santhatham’, has been released as a single.
Pradeep’s journey began in January 2013. “I got drawn to the Thiruppugazh while I was composing tunes for it. I used to learn it from my guru J. Venkatraman in Tiruchi who would always mention to me that the text had something deep. I then took a trip to Tiruvannamalai,” at which point Elias Bouquillon, the American director of the documentary, interrupts to say that Pradeep walked the entire distance from Chennai to recreate the experience of Arunagirinathar doing the same.
Pradeep then met a musicologist who helped him understand and obtain insights into the poet-saint’s life and his works. The following year, Pradeep travelled to Boston courtesy Elias, whom he first met in 2008 during the Northeastern University Fusion Arts Exchange (NUFAX), aimed at encouraging international collaboration of artists.
The orchestra in performance. Photo: special arrangement
“I badly wanted to record an eight-piece string ensemble for the Thiruppugazh and I gave Eli a gist of what I was working on,” says Pradeep. Eli chimes in, “That’s when I asked him if he was joking — Pradeep said that he wanted to make an album of eight different concerts in eight countries for a mere eight track album. When he finished, I just said, ‘Oh this sounds like a movie,’ and the next minute I was offered the chance to direct it. That’s when I thought, ‘This is precisely where I need to be’.”
Arunagirinathar, for Pradeep, is a person of endless fascination and a source of inspiration. “He didn’t really want his compositions to be popularised, he was selfless, and a master of all eight Siddhis. When I gathered all this information, I realised the literary depth in his works and that the Thiruppugazh is unparalleled in terms of epics that combine the saptham and the vaarthai (the sound and the word). I wanted to show his efforts through the story and through the lens of his own work.”
Around June-August, Pradeep had Skype conversations with the rest of the members of the production team (music director Sean Roldan, Susha) to start work on the same.
Elias and Pradeep then set to work getting in touch with musician friends, people they had met during the exchange programme, to narrow down the list to 36 people that became a final 16 (while Pradeep’s wife Kalyani wrote the notes and conducted the orchestra, the concert-master even turned down a well-paying gig to do this, exclaims Elias).
Apart from live concerts, the documentary also features temples in South India that the poet-saint visited during his travels of musical worship.
“The eight compositions we chose for Arunagiri Perumale were at random and only three have names of places mentioned. We determined the other five — Pazhani, Pazhamudhir Cholai, Thirukazhukundram, Kanchipuram and Thiruvidaikazhi — by selecting Tiruvannamalai as the start and the end point,” Pradeep says.
From their fervent conversation, it’s evident that Pradeep and Elias’s passion for Arunagirinathar runs deep. But it’s the funds they have been struggling with. “I think you could call this a family project,” laughs Pradeep. “But that’s where the Wishberry Crowdfunding Campaign comes in. The whole idea was to reach out to people. And this is not a donation but just funding, and people who help will be closely associated with the project.”
The Wishberry website not only lists rewards for contributors to this project, but also an impending deadline. Failing to meet it will only mean, “pushing back the release schedule, slowing down of the process including payment of loans… but we won’t fail regardless of the money,” says Elias.
But Pradeep truly has the last word about this project, “If an artiste doesn’t struggle he will not get his message across. Arunagirinathar’s message is important and that is to ‘surrender to someone or something’. I surrendered myself to an idea to give everything I have through his work.”
To contribute to the documentary, listen to songs and read more, visit Poorvaa.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus / by Apoorva Sripathi / Chennai – February 04th, 2015
‘Enchanting Tamil Nadu’ is giving a leg up to tourist arrivals in ‘Incredible India’. Chennai airport has emerged as the third most preferred gateway for foreigners arriving in the country.
What’s heartening is that these people don’t just get their first glimpse of Indian soil in the city and fly off to another place. “The transit traffic is almost negligible on international flights in Chennai. Barely 1-2 per cent of the people have connecting flights through a city like Chennai. If they come, they’re here to be tourists,” said an immigration official. Even domestic transfers are limited when it comes to foreign tourists, he added.
In a trend that has held steady through the last two years, with Chennai having seen between 7.5 and 8 per cent of total tourist traffic, January 2015 has witnessed a slight jump with 8.39% of foreign visitors using the city as a gateway to India. The only other entry points that saw higher foreign tourist entry are Delhi with 28.72% and Mumbai with 21.87%. The numbers also indicated that the country that has been sending the highest number of their citizens our way is the US, followed by the UK and Bangladesh.
In numbers revealed by the Tourism Ministry, it is evident that Tamil Nadu’s tourism plan is enchanting enough to draw a fair share of independent interest, besides the larger tour options that foreigners undertake. Through 2014, the number of Foreign Travel Arrivals (FTAs) logged by Immigration sat at a considerable 74.62 lakh visitors. “Remember, these are only people who apply for tourist visas. Medical and business visas are separate, so it’s evident that every year people are coming to explore our country as a tourist destination,” said J Kishore, a travel agent. He added that most of the bookings were done through international travel networks online.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Express News Service / February 11th, 2015
The cacophony inside the Theosophical Society is of a different sort. Birdcalls of unusual kinds, the pattering of a squirrel and even a mongoose, the crackling of dry leaves and a bicycle whirring past. Inside the prayer hall, people are paying a silent tribute to the statue of Henry Steele Olcott, the co-founder and first president of the Theosophical Society. Opposite the statue, a plaque reads ‘There is no religion higher than truth.’
Every year, the Society celebrates Olcott’s death anniversary on February 17 as ‘Adyar Day’, as a homage to all the known and unknown people who contributed to the Society. From 1882 when the campus first came up on 28 acres, the now 250-acre Society has been celebrating Adyar Day since 1922. The day also marks the death anniversary of J Krishnamurthy, the renowned Indian philosopher and teacher who used to be part of the Theosophical Society.
Tributes were paid to the first president of the Theosophical Society, on Tuesday
Formed initially in New York city by Colonel Olcott and Madam Blavatsky, the society with its headquarters in the heart of Adyar began to advance theosophy, the seeking of knowledge of the presumed mysteries of being and nature.
Pic: Albin Mathew
The campus was developed with a vast amount of vegetation, in order to lend the atmosphere of calm, and the silence in the campus blocks the visitors of the outside world.
When Harihara Raghavan, the general manager of the Society refers to ‘Adyar’, he refers to the Theosophical Society. “Adyar is an oasis of peace, with the calls of birds, the river and the voices of silence,” he says. “When the Society began, Adyar was not even a part of Chennai, it was part of Chengalpet,” he adds. “South Madras has developed because of the Theosophical Society and Guindy Park.”
The sprawling campus, with the trees, the quaint buildings like the dispensary and a post office, and the representative monuments from many religions is a life away from the city. “We get around 600 visitors every day. Many of them come to just walk around — it is not necessary that everyone needs to understand what the Society stands for.”
The Society has worked towards the cause of education right from its conception. “Colonel Olcott has done much for the upliftment of the downtrodden. He started five schools to reach out to the children from those castes who were not allowed in regular schools,” says Raghavan. The Olcott Memorial School is still completely free for all students.
Today, Adyar has become a busy commercial hub and the river is not the pristine waterbody it was meant to be. But the society sits tranquil, cut off from the chaos of the surroundings, paying tribute to its founders in its own way.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Archita Suryanarayanan / February 18th, 2015
