Archives: September 2006
Sun Sep 17, 2006
leaving bengali hearts
Saturday Sharmy sleeps in, Chottu is hard at work on a project for an advertising client, the music work is all done for now, and so Solani keeps me quite entertained, with hide and seek, connect the dots, and a variety of her school songs.
Chottu gulps one down
Later in the day Subho and I make an outing across town in search of lower sarod strings ( the brass alloy ones are hard to find in the States). Sharmy returns from her own outing, having procured gifts for my family, and Im deeply touched. In the evening we all cross town, into theold Muslim market area, packed with trucks and commerce, to revel in the city's best biryani. The unit is true to its promise, and the food is sumptuous (the unit as a whole takes its quality of food very seriously and I'm very scared to cook for them if they come visit).
Bappa also arranges my first paan, a delicious aromatic mixture of herps, fresehners, carefully crafted onto a chewable betel leaf.
The last order of business is to figure out what remains and when its due. It's a process of working backwards from the Florence Film Festival deadline, taking into account postage time back and forth, when their video editor is free, and when I will recover from the journey home.
It turns out to be a tight fit, but hopefully doable: I am to do the dance piece first thing and send this to them by the 10th or 12th . While they rehearse and shoot that portion, the video editor should be working on the remaining portions of the film. While awaiting that to arrive, I will be finishing the detail work for the known pieces, and have all of that completed by the time the remaining edits arrive, leaving only the new edits to work on when it gets here.
Sunday is a sad day. CD copies of both my material and the existing footage are burned and exchanged, and bags are packed. Rabida and Toompa help ensureI have everything together, and after checking with Subho I leave each of them a little extra, including the little seen but busy Jamai.
Rabida and Toompa
Bappa arrives, soon with followed by Saurav and Somnant. Sharmy, unprecedently, wears a sari to accompany me to the airport. I'm impressed and honoured, not to mention that she wears it well!
Earlier that morning, before the househould had fully come to life, I finished some thoughts began a few nights before. Moments before we leave, I call everyone together and read it to them, barely getting it out through a voice choked with sadness:
the sun smiles in your Bengali hearts
my soul
sings
at such a gift, these
bright colors of life danced across
bridges built,
collapsing distance
love blooms large in your Bengali hearts,
a sky unfolding,
giving poured down
in sheets of sharing
like the sweetest Kolkata rain
late nights and laughter
smoked cigarettes and burning bidis
and every moment, songs are sung:
songs from love,
music of your Bengali hearts,
singing in my heart
forever
such gifts of life you've brought
to my heart
how can I ever repay?
but these bridges built,
Bengali hearts to my heart,
will always stay:
and I will cross this
bridge of your Bengali hearts,
every day and every moment of my soul
and I will meet you in the center,
where
heart in heart,
hand in hand,
soul to soul,
we will walk this bridge
across
time and love
together.
We all shed tears, as the bonds created in the past few days are far deeper than I ever imagined.
I hate to leave: the rest of the trip (Bangalore , Mumbai), looms large and empty without these gracious Kolkata souls that have warmed my heart and changed my soul.
But even then, plans are afoot for a return, and I know these people who have changed my life will always be a part of my life, my destiny.
It rains heavily as the taxi approaches the airport:"All Kolkata is crying that you leave us", Sharmy quietly intones.
"My tears also", I say.
Leaving Bengali hearts - from left: Saurav, Subho, Sharmy, Chottu, Bappa, Somant
my love and fervent thanks to everyone in the unit for such generosity and hospitality - Im honored to be a part of such compelling work.I will be back...
from left: Subho, me, Saurav, Sharmy, Chottu, Somnant
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a river, a party
One of the evening highlights in the remaining days is a sunset trip to the banks of the Ganges. It is beautiful, majestic wide, with an energy you can sense from the banks. Saurav sings quiet Bengali folk songs, and we enjoy the moment.
Sharmy, on the banks of the Ganges
I feel compelled, drawn to the legend. I take my shoes off, walk to the bank and wade in, calf-deep. A surge of electric vitality stems upwards from the legs. Its hard to know if the river has a power of its own that has drawn the million souls before me to it, or whether the cumulative effect of all that humanity makes the river what it is, but one feels that nexus sharply, a burst of life blessing my own blood in the veins.
I cup my hands in the water and pour it over my head, washing my face. Three times. I feel both abjectly humble and ultimately invincible, insanely blessed, full of love and a graceful strength. This one of the faces of God, one of those moments where the gifts of life ring loudly in the heart.
Friday evening a party is thrown, more or less in my honor ("come meet the American music director!"). Food is prepared, wine is procured, and others involved in the film all gather. Chottu and Sharmy - the hosting couple - look magnificent and Subho also is in dapper form.
The hosting couple: Sharmy and Chottu
Subho and Sudesna
After a toast, the room takes turns sharing songs: once again, it truly is a culture with songs in the heart. Everyone does their bit masterfully, from Sharmy's German sister-in-law Sabena (who came to India to study dhrupad singing), to the wild flautist, the witty, acerbic full-voiced Sudesna, to Bappa's tender ghazals.
Somnant and Sudesna rock on
Sharmy's sister-in-law Sabena, Sharmy, and Saloni
As the guests depart and the household resumes its normal cadre, we have one extra sleepover guest, Sharmy's niece Saloni. She is 8 - my own daughter's age - and after seeing photos of Sofi, Saloni is delighted and is already plotting for the duo to be movie stars. Not a shy kid, Saloni sidles up and grills me about life in the U.S. as she tells me her own school stories.
She is an amazing linguist for her age, fluent in four languages: she speaks Hindi, Bengali, German and English ( and at one time also added Marathi to her list when she lived in Mumbai). She undertakes to teach me Bengali, and is soon joined in the effort by the servant Toompa, who is coming out of her own reserve. Toompa knows little English, but does know some Hindi, so Hindi becomes the common if thin thread. Saloni translates between the three to make sure everyone is clear, and my notebook soon is filled with vocabulary and grammar. Saloni has an impish streak as well, and decides to teach words that are very amusing, to her endless self-delight. "But I don't think I really need to know what the Bengali word for head lice is", I kid her, " teach me something I need".
my Bengali teaching crew: Rabida, Toompa, Saloni
yes, I really was there - me at the party
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Sat Sep 16, 2006
A dark turn
Later in the second day, we take the cross town taxi ride to the video editing studio, which is a short walk from the apartment building where Sharmy's mother lives. South Kolkata is relatively less frenetic, and the evening 's weather is a slight relief form the recent sweltering heat. We stop for a visit to Mom's beforehand and she offers to feed us dinner when we are done at the studio. Her mom is gracious and kind, and i can see where Sharmy gets that twinkle in her eye and her dazzling smile.
Sharmy and Mom
At the studio, I see some raw footage that we didn't have at the house. A child abuse sequence with unimaginable things being done to a baby doll becomes increasingly hard to watch as it unfolds. I am overwhelmed, my heart is hurting, I think of my children and I break down in uncontrollable tears. I have to leave the room and go outside to the balcony where I cannot pull myself together, the tears will not stop, the perversity manifested onto the film sears the gut , and it is too much , too much. Everyone is supportive - and they almost begin crying too - but it takes a long time for me to recover from this shattering.
Eventually I pull myself together enough to look at different footage from other scenes, and the dinner back at Mom's is a welcome change of mood (her servant was especially captivating, with a great grin and joyful sense of humor, which alas i couldnt quite catch on camera).
from left: Chottu, a servant, Subho, Sharmy, Sharmy's Mom
The next morning, we discuss the pros and cons of the doll sequence. At this point I cannot afford to be oblique and I tell them I just don't know if I can do this portion. The sequence also feels, in some way, apart from the rest of the film, and that I almost see the sequence as separate short. I can't tell you how to do the film , I say, but this is how I see it.
In my 30 years as a musician, this sequence is the hardest challenge Ive ever faced. Its important to make a statement against such crimes, and it's a testament to Sharmy's strength as a director and the rest of the unit that they delivered such a visceral, wrenching moment. Theyve created more than an enough emotional response within me that I could add to it, but the process will be painful - and I wonder if it will be too painful, my reaction too raw, for me to do.
They offer to take something from the existing material or perhaps some earlier music projects, but by the next morning I ve come to terms and tell them I will pull this section from somewhere in me, and create a new piece for it.
Meanwhile the work continues on other segments, as dummy edits and rough mixes are prepared for the sound editor to start with as a reference. We are drilling in to various levels of minutiae, double checking key moments of action or detail in the film and where they should line up with the music. Some pieces identified as having the right feel but that aren't synchronized will call for some meticulous editing to make it match. This will be helpful when we redo the piece later, as Ill be able to take the rough back for Jefferson and I to follow more closely.
Subho, Sharmy, and Mom
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Work in progress
The pace of work here suits my temperament exactly: the hours are long (we resurrect any where from 8:30 to 10 am and retire about 2 or 3 am), but the pace is relaxed. Breakfast trickles in sometime mid morning, and lunch is about 4 pm with dinner at around 11 or 12.
Among the more permanent non resident attendees are the two young actors Saurav and Somnat. Saurav is tall and thin, with a tender, gentle, easy manner. Son of a professional folk singer for Calcutta Radio, he has graced me for long stretches with a beautiful voice unwinding a vast repertoire of Tagore and folk songs, pausing every few phrases to offer a translation. He has also volunteered to teach me Bengali, and was pleased when I asked him to teach me a request for one of the servants, who seemed delighted at my efforts. Somnant is slightly more reserved but has a sly smile and a well delivered wit.
Somnant and Saurav
Somnant and Chottu are also good singers in their own right and need no excuse to break into song at any moment: I'll never forget another kamikaze taxi ride across town , with horns blaring and head on collisions narrowly missed accompanied by a cheery selection of film songs sung by Chottu, Somnat and Sharmy. It's a part of this culture I love.
We start trimming the sea: various selections are tried against various scenes, until at last some options are settled on. Subho generally is with me for this, and the range of options are presented to Sharmy if she wasn't able to attend.
The film is impressive, and I gradually begin to grasp the body of work, its scope and impact. It is a dark, arresting, shocking, intense, and poignant piece of work. There are powerful moments, funny moments, surreal ones, and slowly matches are found, some more closely than others.
The sound designer Munna arrives and after some technical discussions he also joins in the listening sessions, offering his input and want ing to hear certain tracks and isolation.
sound designer Munna, left, and Sharmy discuss the sonic implications of the film
Somnant arrives later in the day and hears the selection weve made for his scene and immediately I can tell he's not happy, but I encourage him that we can layer other existing material on top and coordinate the synchronization better. Later in the evening, after more work and some dinner, he sang some of his favorite current Bengali pop songs with a full on delivery, and after he leaves, I feel an odd twinge of sadness: I didn't feel deserving of hearing his songs after I provided such a disappointment.
While there are a few perfect matches, there is also a lot that is close, but not quite ideal. Drum accents are needed to bring out some specific elements of action in one sequence; another layer is good but sounds curiously spare and needs more guitar to complete the feel. Another sequence apparently isnt filmed yet, as it needed some choreography and so the music must be completed before hand. They also want some drum loops/electronica on this number, which may prove difficult to do against a preexisting live performance.
After discussing their timetable, a decision is made to finish out the details when I get home and send them the final tracks. Relieved of some pressure, we proceed with matching up material with the new approach in mind. We also find an alternate selection for Somnant's scene and he's much happier.
actors Debi, left, and Somnant
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Day One
Arriving in Kolkata is intense: from this desert rat's perspective, one is awed by the immense and intense lush tropical green you see out the window as you land. But as you step off the plane you're besieged by the steambath: the heat and humidity are staggering (and your eyeglasses are fogged in nanoseconds).
The cluster of humanity begins immediately outside the terminal with the line of people waiting to receive arrivals. I spied the only man looking hip enough to be involved in such an endeavour: we make eye contact, he holds the card reading my name with a grin, and we're off.
Subhankar Das
Subhankar Das (aka Subho) is accompanied by the bright-eyed, cheerful and energetic Saibal Bhattacharyya, whom everyone calls Bappa. Also with us is a very quiet and dutiful taxi driver. A beautiful harbinger of their generosity is shown as they've come to greet me with flowers.
I am disoriented after 30 hours flight and I'm not snapping that the little girl following us to the taxi isn't part of our entourage, but is begging. I sense another man near us, out of my range of vision but I hear him begging also: Bappa and Subhankar are polite but firm in discouraging them, and say to me, "not now, Stefan". Even the taxi driver helps in running the gauntlet.
One does notice the poverty, all the way from the airport to the heart of the city. If you've seen the poorest areas of Juarez or taken the haunting highway route out of Mexico City towards Puebla, you're prepared, but the integration of it here with all other facets and strata of life is what's striking. Sidewalk sleepers, stray dogs, naked infants, beggars, taxis, buses, plastic tents, shack shops, rickshaw pullers, businessmen, office workers, laborers, students, the affluent and the abject are all intertwined in huge numbers at every square foot of space in this city. The mix is part of the pulse of the life here, and the aggregate is intense, profound, and electric. Both literally and metaphysically, this is a place that is Full Of Life.
Negotiating through this wall of living in a taxi is impressive: I'd estimate - conservatively - 40 fender benders were avoided through a blend of fortune and driver skill, and about 12 different pedestrians were also lucky recipients of that combination. I have immense respect for these taxi drivers, who deftly weave their way through the mayhem in a perpetual automotive dance with a musical score of constant horn-blaring. It is a suicidal thrill, but I am too jet lagged to be scared.
Bappa and Subho take it all in stride, offering me cigarettes and making cell phone calls keeping various folk apprised of our journey in: "everyone is eager to meet you", Bappa grins at me. I feel pressure.
We arrive at director Sharmy Pandey's family home in the heart of Old Calcutta, in the north part of town. The whole film unit is camping here to live, breathe, think and immerse fully into the project. Much of the film was shot in this house, in fact, and the room I am staying in is where the priest scene was filmed.
on the street where you live: Sharmy's house is on the right hand side, through an alleyway entrance
I love this arrangement, it feels so much better to be part of a real collective. There are at least two servants here, quiet and deferential, at least at this early stage.
I am brought beer to help decompress, and Sharmy is brought in, and also Chottu, the young, energetic art director. Chottu is a compact fellow with an infectious grin, and is very helpful in all the minor details of getting these set up ("I am here to solve all problems," he jokingly quips). He loves music, generally hard rock, but he’ll also put on Yves Montand late in the evening. Chottu, Sharmy, and Subho are the core of the team, staying here at the house, with others drifting in and out throughout the days.
He Who Is Here To Solve All Problems: Chottu
Everyone is friendly and hospitable to the extreme: Bottled water already provided, everything I need. At every turn, I am brought tea or water, and I can't even offer to help move a chair from the workspace to the dining area at mealtime without someone intervening.
After some general conversation over beer, I take a brief nap, and after lunch, we watched her second film "29 Minutes of Loneliness" (a compelling piece of work), then I cranked open the laptop and started playing selections.
Having had no time to edit or review any of the recorded material ( in fact I was transferring tracks from the DVDs into the laptop in flight), I've no idea just exactly what I was sitting on, much less able to save my eager hosts from the bad notes, fuckups, etc. So I cringe at every out of tune passage, but fortunately there's not too many of them, and I have enough alternate takes on the sarod overdubs at least to patch together some accurate passages.
They seem to like what they hear, and so now begins the process of what will match where. As Subho says, "we have to trim this sea of music you’ve given us into a river".
A quiet moment of Jefferson's with the Tibetan singing bowls accompanied by light harmonics on the guitar will open the film and will be the introductory signature for the other two tableaus ( the film is in essence divvied into three parts). Various grunge/metal sections with overdubbed sarod are all usable, it’s a question of which one fits best for what scene.
After another brief nap and some dinner, we listened some more, but everyone was getting a bit saturated and so I closed the evening by presenting a take from a regular repertoire, a new one of ours and a probably our favorite, dubbed "Inside". This seemed to be a favorite of theirs as well: "whether I use this in the film or not," Sharmy says, "I want a copy of this for myself".
Still life, my quarters in Kolkata: my airport flowers, with bidis, water jug, and glasses
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Bengali Hearts: Birthing music for "Birth of a Pillow"
And so after that announcement Ive left everyone in the dark...
No more - here is the update:
The duo did a pair of gigs in June, one for the Sikh solstice:
Sama Duo, Espanola, June 2006
and the other for the Habitat for Humanity in Albuquerque. The latter was particularly special - the audience really felt connected - that rare moment when performer and sound and listener merge into one moment of consciousness.
Since then, Jefferson and I were awaiting further word from Subhankar Das as to the status of the film. In short, delays have plagued the production with casting problems, illnesses, etc. Eventually it came to book the ticket, and we still didn't have any rough edits of the film.
With less than week to come up with music for a film we had yet to see, I implored Subho (as I now know he's referred to ) to send me something… so with a handful of jpeg stills and a synopsis of 2/3rds of the shoot, Jeff and I recorded like mad: two days of our regular repertoire, and two days for ideas of the film, mainly on the fretless electric and pakawaj, with sarod overdubbed late at night on my own.
We've had to extrapolate the subtext of the synopsis, and the underlying ideas we got from the stills aren't just about sexuality but the battle between external stimulus, social mores, and personal drive ultimately creates isolation, loneliness, guilt, pain, separation: being alone together. When I get to Kolkata and meet Sharmy and the unit in person, she confirms and elaborates on these themes, and seems pleased that we picked up this subtext.
And so it is that I write this on my first full morning from Kolkata, after a long trip in and a surprisingly productive arrival day. Not sure of my internet connections, if I can't post from here directly, I'll keep notes and post it all when I get back.
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