| |
The Albert Hall
experience
Junoon at Royal Albert Hall of London on June 18, 2003 at the Rhythms of Indus
music festival
'Rhythms of the Indus' opened at a packed Albert Hall in London with the usual
warnings of a desi fiasco: the habitual late start, a baby howling in the
audience that continued streaming in long after the show had opened, and the
occasional cell phone shrilling in the background.
But by the time it ended with a rollicking finale in which the entire cast and
backstage staff as well as some members of the audience danced to the driving
beat of Junoon accompanying Abida Parveen, there was no doubt the show had been
a rousing success. And in a venue that seats over 5000 people, this was no mean
achievement.
I must confess that I had been reluctant to part with £40 for the evening, but
was shamed by my wife and friends to cough up. In any event, one was glad to
have been allowed to be persuaded, if only to see Naheed Siddiqui performing her
Kathak magic, as her opening appearance repaid me amply. Naheed retains the
ability to establish her presence with a crisp stamp of her foot. Each hand
movement is imbued with grace, and her sense of timing remains impeccable. She
is a phenomenal dancer. Let me quote the Guardian dance critic about one of her
performances: "This is a dance of mesmerizing grace and control. Once you've
seen Siddiqui move, you really don't want to watch anyone else."
The other acts were uneven, as is inevitable in such an expansive and ambitious
programme. The backdrop was crisp and clever, using still and moving projections
to excellent effect. A few botched cues and uncomfortable pauses told us the
show had been under-rehearsed, but this was probably unavoidable, given the
logistical nightmare putting it all together must have been. The miracle was
that there were no major fiascos.
The show's weakest link was the contrast between the two hosts: the wit and
stage presence Art Malik brought to the show was in a different class to Atiqa
Odho's plodding delivery. But both were shackled to the pedestrian script which
went on and on relentlessly about 'The river Indus, rising from the pristine
mountains of the Himalayas, weaving its way down the geographical length of
Pakistan to rest gently in the warm waters of the Arabian Sea.' Clearly, the
organizers had assumed there would be lots of non-Pakistanis in the audience who
needed to be informed about the country. In the event, nearly 95 per cent of the
audience were of desi origin.
Art Malik was clearly bored by the cliché-laden words he was forced to mouth,
but whenever he attempted to break free and ad lib, he was firmly pulled back to
the official line by pretty, prissy Ms Odho.
In the three segments relating to Pakistani fashion, the young models displayed
some lovely clothes. Rizwan Beyg's cool, contemporary outfits showed his ease
with global trends, while Nilofer Shahid, Faiza Samee, Deepak Perwani and Sonya
Battla were equally comfortable with stylish colours and fabrics from the West.
I do hope the Pakistan High Commission was able to persuade some top garment
buyers to come to the show.
Until last week, I had never heard Junoon live, and had often wondered what all
the fuss was about. Now I know. The boundless energy and relentless drive they
bring to their music is infectious and it is no wonder so many members of the
audience stood up to dance during their performance. And no wonder, too, that
General Musharraf stood up while they were ending a number and signalled for
them to continue. Ali Azmat, the vocalist of the group, was a memorable figure
with his clean-shaved pate and uninhibited forays up and down the stage. Salman
Ahmed on the lead guitar was hugely innovative while Brian O'Connell steadied
the group on the bass guitar.
Compared to the polished professionalism of Junoon, Strings and Fuzon looked and
sounded almost amateurish in their earnest numbers. Bilal Maqsood's brooding
good looks and sound guitar technique made it seem like he was out of place in
the re-born Strings. Abrar's fulsome public praise for Gen Musharraf was
misplaced: perhaps he thought he was performing on PTV. Indeed, his tame
performance made it hard to believe that it was his electrifying talent that
gave us Billo de ghar.
Representing Pakistan's rich folk music was Lahore's Papoo Saeein on the dhol;
Balochistan's Akhtar Chunar Zehri and Bhit Shah's Soung Faqirs. Papoo Saeein was
much applauded as he played the dhol with a mixture of complete mastery and
controlled passion. He is a well-known shrine drummer and it is easy to see how
his mesmerizing beat can put devotees into a trance. Zehri's clear, uninhibited
voice resounded in Albert Hall's vast spaces and his traditional outfit did not
seem out of place. For me, the Soung Faqirs were a big disappointment as I know
what magic they are capable of. Having seen them perform in their natural
habitat in Bhit Shah years ago, I was expecting them to bring the audience to
its feet with their shuffling dance and mystic singing. But perhaps they were
daunted by the setting or not primed on their substance of choice. In any case,
they seemed chained to the spot they stood on, and their performance was tame
and unpolished.
Abida Perveen brought the house down and the crowd to its feet with her haunting
voice and riveting stage presence. I have heard her live many times and never
cease to be amazed by her artistry and the superb control she has achieved. At
the end of her performance, the entire cast and backstage staff came out to
dance to the music as all of us stood and clapped.
A memorable evening made possible by financial support from the Bestway Group
and an original concept from the energetic Abdul Kader Jaffer, Pakistan's High
Commissioner to the UK.
Irfan Husain
Dawn IMAGES
|
|
