Ready reckoner to your maestros

Amaan and Ayaan Ali's 50 Maestros, 50 Recordings is a guide to the masters of Indian music, and comes with a superb CD compilation of their music

Twins Amaan and Ayaan Ali Khan's smartly packaged book about Indian musicians showers adulation on their famous father Amjad Ali Khan while remaining respectful about his most formidable peer Ali Akbar Khan.

50 Maestros 50 Recordings looks so good that music lovers will find it difficult not to pick it up. But don't worry, at Rs 350, it's a worthy buy, if only for the music CD that comes glued to the last page. The book isn't bad either. It gives you a quick overview of the deities in the Indian classical music pantheon, and is sprinkled with some refreshingly candid personal observations.

Insiders and music lovers curious about artistic rivalries are likely to quickly flip to the pages about Ustad Amjad Ali Khan and Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, two of the most celebrated sarod maestros of our times, to see how the authors (also sarod players) have managed the comparison.

"What can you say about an icon whose very name means music to you? What do you write about a man for whom the world is music and music is the world?" they say of Amjad Ali Khan, while they mostly list out the occasions when they met Ali Akbar Khan, and finally balance it all out with "He (Ali Akbar Khan) left behind a legacy that is priceless. His teachings, his musical genius and his calibre are unparalleled."

But then, if they don't gush about Ali Akbar as they do about dad, they aren't always afraid to express their opinions either. They refer to Sharan Rani's claim that the sarod existed since 500 BC as "baseless" and having no historical or musical evidence. The sarod, they say, evolved from the Afghani rabab, and was modified in India by one of their forefathers. They praise the role of the guru, and say only a guru, and no formal institution, can produce a great performer.

Happily, Carnatic music is well represented in the book. No one will dispute the inclusion of Semmangudi, D K Pattammal, M S Subbulakshmi and Balamurali, but the exclusion of such giants as G N Balasubramanyam and K V Narayanaswamy will be noticed. Also, among violinists, the choice of L Subramaniam over Lalgudi Jayaraman is likely to evoke scepticism. But then, to be fair, it is never easy for musicians to write about musicians and make lists, and Amaan and Ayaan have pulled off a small miracle by compiling music of such sweep. Their writing is clearly aimed at the non-specialist, and can sometimes look sketchy. The introduction to Indian classical music shows journalistic ease. The choice of pieces is well thought-out (for example, Bhimsen Joshi's 1968 recording is intensely beautiful).

The book dedicates two to four pages to each musician, giving biographical details, and placing them in the context of the authors' own musical discovery. This is a representative way of introducing young people to the wonderful world of Indian classical music, and publishers Harper Collins combine marketing pizazz with a genuine desire to spread the art. An additional attraction is the photographs the book brings together. Getting copyright permissions from multiple record labels couldn't have been easy. Amaan and Ayaan write a brief note on each of the tracks in the albums they have culled their gems from, helpfully pointing in the direction of further listening and exploration.

With its colourful, classy cover, 50 Maestros 50 Recordings will definitely adorn your bookshelf. You'll enjoy the music, and hopefully, so will your kids.

Magic Mouse scores big



Apple’s new Bluetooth mouse looks smart and pulls off impressive tricks, but it doesn’t come cheap

Magic Mouse, Apple's new offering, looks a bit like Dove soap. The attractive contouring is the first thing you notice when you open the box. But beyond aesthetics, the USP of this wireless mouse is its touch technology, adapted from the company's more iconic products such as the iPhone and the MacBook.

Many believe the Magic Mouse is a huge improvement on the Mighty Mouse, Apple's earlier Bluetooth tracking device. I tried out the Magic Mouse on the iMac 24 inch, Apple's top-end home desktop till recently. (They now have a faster 27-inch model).

The installation wasn't easy. To make the iMac Magic Mouse-ready, I installed Snow Leopard, Apple's latest software upgrade (also called OS 10.6), but the mouse just continued doing basic things, and wouldn't reveal any of the great tracking features it was being praised for.

The Magic Mouse comes bundled with the new iMac series, but I had heard that it would be compatible with the previous generations of Macs as long as they were running on Snow Leopard. It was puzzling why the mouse wasn't coming alive fully even after I had installed Snow Leopard. I googled again and found on a user forum that Apple had put out a patch to make the mouse work. I downloaded that as well.

That didn't help either. I then went online and got software updates for the OS that came with the nine-month-old iMac, which took overnight to download. All this took me approximately two working days to accomplish (since I was busy with other tasks as well). But once I had restarted the system, and activated the Bluetooth mouse option in Systems Preferences, the mouse worked perfectly. A little demo pops up the moment you configure the Magic Mouse, and that is a thoughtful touch, since many users would be new to wireless mice.

The scrolling is very smooth on the Magic Mouse, and is much better than on the brand new Apple button mouse I had been using, which tended to scroll inconsistently. If you want slower scrolling, like when you are reading an e-book or a PDF, just uncheck the momentum option in mouse settings. It also gives you a circular scroll option. Using the Control button, you can also zoom in and out.



The mouse understands left and right clicks without actually demarcating spaces for them, but the right click needs to be activated first. The double-finger left and right swipes are a nice surprise: on Firefox, for instance, you could use them to navigate to sites you have visited previously.



The Magic Mouse isn’t designed to work with Windows, but as always, there’s the friendly online hacker who can help you find a way around the problem. It runs on two AA batteries, said to last about four months, and some users are upset it can’t be charged from a USB.

Overall, this is a mouse that looks good, and works well. But at Rs 3,890, it can’t be your idea of an economy accessory (when you can pick up a decent mouse for Rs 200). But then, if you’re looking to indulge in a luxury mouse, this is the one for you.

Allen's newsroom novel

Anyone who knew Allen Mendonca also knew he enjoyed his journalism. Which is why they won’t be surprised at the earnestness and energy in The Sentinel House, his novel about the newspaper business.

MiD DAY got an advance copy of the book, which Arundhati Nag is releasing at Ranga Shankara on Wednesday. Allen goes about challenging readers, fellow journalists particularly, to identify real-life media people hiding behind his fictional characters. He is a satirist this moment, and a practitioner of pulp fiction the next, but there isn’t a moment he isn’t having a go at the media world. For that reason, it is likely that journalists will grasp the novel's nuances better than those with no access to newsroom gossip.

The Sentinel House narrates the saga of Harivanshrai aka Harry, a media baron driven as much by his hormones as by the opportunities afforded by the new Indian economy. In a hurry to expand his empire, he transforms his newspaper from institution to product, obscures the once-inviolable line between editorial and marketing, and elevates advertiser over reader.

Many will read The Sentinel House as a dramatised chronicle of what Allen saw in the newsrooms of the past two decades. The book also seethes with media-boardroom news and gossip that never made it to print. If journalists sit around at bars and coffee shops with a copy of The Sentinel House, smirking, taunting, hooting, or even getting into brawls, you know why.

And unexpectedly, running through all the masala and the action is Allen’s faith in Hindu karma and Christian compassion. When Harry’s crippled son Sid finally finds love and fulfilment, and wealth and power, Allen suggests it is all because of the character’s essential goodness. The Sentinel House describes crimes provoked by lust and greed, but it is also an optimistic tribute to innocence.

But for all that, Allen’s book is vulnerable, and can be ripped apart easily by any critical book lover. Its sex scenes are inspired by Harold Robbins. Its characters are predictable in what they do when faced with a crisis. (The media czar sleeps around, his wife parties and hits the bottle, and their son seeks meaning in art). The Sentinel House is clearly inclined towards populist fiction and Page 3 reportage. With this novel, Allen joins the ranks of Bangalorean journalists-turned-novelists Narendra Pani and C K Meena, but they take stylistic routes different from his.

If anyone was qualified to write this novel, it was Allen. In the decades he spent in journalism, he changed from intrepid reporter to Page 3 heartthrob to independent entrepreneur. He knew this story from the inside. He did many diverse things, including playing the guitar. Allen died of a heart attack late in September, and it is sad that his first novel will also be his last.

One doesn’t know if Allen would have liked to revise it before sending it out to the press, but The Sentinel House, even in its present form, can deliver a satisfyingly nasty punch.

iPod Touch: A review

Some describe the iPod Touch as an iPhone without the phone. That is a pretty accurate description of the smart steel-and-black device. It also lacks a camera, one of the attractions of the iPhone.

Yet, the iPod Touch is a very advanced mp3 player. It is Wi-fi enabled, which means you can check out websites on it. You can buy stuff online. And then it has dozens of useful applications that you wouldn't find on less expensive mp3 players, such as on those made by Transcend or Creative, or even on the lower-priced iPod Nano.

Wireless Internet capability must be the biggest plus of the Touch, especially since it gives you ready access to the App Store, where you can download hundreds of useful and quirky applications. The instrument Apple gave us to test had some games, including one with James Bond as the theme, and last week, Wired magazine gave out its recommendations of the top 10 applications on offer at the App Store.

In short, what you can do with the applications on your iPhone, you can with your iPod Touch. You can turn your music player into a flute, play clever games, and browse Google Earth to find addresses. Most of these applications you can buy for between one and three dollars. And if you are curious about useless applications, there's one being promoted on their site right now. It's called iFart, and is described as 'a fart machine for all ages'!

When it comes to listening to music, the difference between a Nano and a Touch is that the latter has a built-in speaker, which means you can place it on your table and listen to it without earphones. As far as sound goes, the Touch is in the same league as the other Apple products, which is another way of saying it can beat its rivals with ease.

Apple's proprietary multi-touch technology is what makes the Touch a music player that's fit for snobs, but if you have a big appetite for stored music, you should choose the iPod Classic, which can keep 160 GB on a similar-sized instrument. If you settle for the Classic, you can't show off those impressive touch applications to your friends.

You can buy the iPod Touch for Rs 14,400 for 8 GB and Rs 21,400 for 16 GB. Let's put it this way: the iPod Touch is the rich man's mp3 player, and the poor man's iPhone.

Ford Ikon diesel: A review

Ford has just released a diesel version of its popular sedan Ikon. I test drove it for nearly two hours, first on Bannerghatta Road, and then on the Nice highway connecting it to Hosur Road.

If you've driven the Ford Ikon petrol, as I have on a couple of occasions when a friend gave me the wheel of his car, you will find no difference in the way the diesel is built. Everything's the same, including the 400-litre boot, sure to be useful when you go on long drives with huge suitcases, or drop your sister off at the international airport with all her Bangalore shopping. The diesel comes with nicely done beige interiors in fabric and rexine, and will appeal to those who like sobriety rather than flamboyance.

Diesels are known to start off a little sluggishly, and that was the first thing I noticed when I started out from congested J P Nagar intersections, but once the car was comfortably into the third gear, the acceleration felt as good as in a petrol car. The slow initial pull isn't so obvious with just two passengers in the car, but becomes noticeable when you have four (four plus driver is what it's designed for).

The Ikon diesel, like the petrol, has a 1.4 litre engine which made its debut on the Fiesta, and for stark comparison, its capacity can be matched against, say, that of the German-designed Opel Sail petrol, a car that spelt luxury to Indian motoring buffs just five years ago. But, as an auto buff-friend pointed out, a petrol typically puts out more bhp than a diesel, and so this comparison should only be used to see the petrol-versus-diesel argument in perspective.

The Ford diesel would be miles ahead of the Sail in economy, but such economy comes at the cost of power. The Sail feels more luxurious, but few in these trying times would want luxury at such a premium (and besides, General Motors has shut down the Opel range). At its very best, the Sail can achieve about 9 km a litre inside the city, while the Ford Ikon diesel, from what its executives say, can double that performance with 17 to 18 km.

Economy is going to be the main attraction of the Ikon diesel. If you're keen on an Ikon, you might want to weigh the merits of the petrol against the diesel before you make up your mind. The diesel is slightly noisier and more expensive by a lakh, but makes up with its everyday wallet-friendliness. So if you're regularly driving long distances and are cost-conscious, diesel could be what works for you.

On the Nice highway, I touched 130 km, and the car felt steady and fully under control. Kiran N Gupta, the knowledgeable sales consultant who accompanied me on the drive, said he had hit 160 without any hitch. I didn't want to push the car, and my luck in Formula-style racing, that far!

The Ikon is competing mainly with diesels such as the Swift Dzire and the Renault Logan, and perhaps to a smaller extent with petrol cars such as the Chevrolet Aveo. The economic slowdown doesn't seem to have dented the prospects of the Ikon diesel. Kiran told me several buyers contemplating Rs 8 lakh-plus cars were now going in for lower-priced Fords. The Ford diesel stands out for its frugality, but overall, when it comes to spare parts prices and service, the Suzukis score with their affordability and accessiblity.

The dashboard on the Ikon looks utilitarian, and the AC cooled well even with five passengers inside (but remember, a test drive won't do to judge long-term efficiency). On the safety question, you may be disappointed that the Ikon diesel does not offer airbags.

The Ikon diesel could be a good choice if you're doing frequent long distances, and are looking for a car that's slightly bigger than the Santro and the Wagon R, and not so expensive to run. The diesel is Rs 75,000 more expensive than the petrol. But before settling on the diesel, I'd think hard which side of the fence I'd like to be on: petrol or diesel. And I'd also spend some time weighing slightly noisy economy against quiet indulgence.

An ambitious guide to Indian music

I had written this review sometime in 2000. Thought I'd revise it a bit and post it here.
Ram


Alaap
20 CDs + 1 book
Times Music
Rs 4,900



Alaap, Times Music and Aurobindo Society's 20 CD-project, attempts to break the uninitiated and the hesitant into the complex world of Indian classical music.

The offering spans 20 CDs and a 275-page book. Earlier introductions in the Indian market were not as ambitious. Music Today's introduction -- they call it a guide to music appreciation -- is spread over three tapes. HMV's introduction to Karnatak music is two tapes long.

Aurobindo Society deserves thanks for planning and executing a project this vast. Alaap took ten years to complete, and is undoubtedly the most extensive introduction to Indian music available today.

"The first thing that strikes me is that practically nothing in the project has gone according to plan. And yet, when I look back, I feel that perhaps there was a plan after all, though hidden from us... working itself out all the while," says Vijay of Aurobindo Society in his afterword.

He co-ordinated the Alaap project from Pondicherry, living through the exhilaration and despair of interacting with musicians, writers and record labels.

"Commercial considerations were kept on the backburner," he told a TV channel after the project was released on August 15, 1999, the birth anniversary of saint and scholar Aurobindo, and also Independence Day.

The project is not credited to any single writer or researcher because as many have contributed to its making.

Alaap is divided into three parts: The Quest and the Lure, where the basics of music, and the concepts of swara, raga and tala are explained, Hindustani Music, which outlines the countours of north Indian classicism, and Carnatic Music, a corresponding introduction to the southern style.

Among the best parts of the book are the reflections on swara. Alaap relates swara to the idea of self -- 'swa' is self and 'ra' is that which shines forth -- and says, "The human voice has always a small component of swara in its timbre... Even this natural swara of human voice, when trained in raga and tala, can produce impressive musicians."

But mere skill isn't enough: "...the musician who has consciously worked towards the acquisition of the full swara produces quite another impact -- a mysterious economy, an assurance of direction, a quality of unbelievable credibility in the tonal essence of the voice, an integrity that is larger and more significant than the raga or the tala or the technical skill of the musician. Such a musician transcends the plane of the raga and lives and moves on a level above it".

The fire of learning
Alaap then explains many concepts, such as the chilla.

The chilla is "one of the most austere and mysterious traditions" in the learning of Indian music. This "extreme step" usually lasts 40 days, and hence the name.

A musician who performs the chilla isolates himself from the world "to attain a greater excellence in performance, a mastery in technique and sometimes to find the swara".

This retreat can elevate a musician to a higher awareness and make his music more instrospective. "In some cases its effect can be so far-reaching that the student abandons all desire, even for music, and becomes a mendicant withdrawing from life... Many illusions about life and its meaning drop away from people who do the chilla," Alaap explains.

The most telling description of chilla comes from Ustad Abdul Karim Khan, founder of the Kirana gharana.

He is reported to have told Pandit Bhatkhande, the famous musicologist, that the chilla is like "lighting a fire under your life. If you do not cook, you will burn. It is better to get cooked so that everyone can enjoy your flavour. Otherwise, you will be a mass of cinders, a heap of ash."

Alaap devotes many pages to the passion that music inspires in the learner and the listener.

Ustad Faiyaz Khan of the Agra gharana used to recall how Unnao, a little village, "was paralysed for some time when, one winter dawn, a singer merely passed through the village, singing". The stranger's music, says Alaap, sent the inhabitants into a state of reverie and bliss, and no one was able to work in the fields or attend to domestic duties for days.

This is the magical, hypnotic power of music, the power that Aurangzeb was wary of -- he believed listening to music would make him effeminate and unfit to rule. It's the same power the Pied Piper uses to settle scores with the deceitful mayor.

Alaap, like most books on music, talks enthusiastically of the spiritual nature of the musical pursuit. But the idea that everything about music is sacred and good is, at least in this reviewer's view, stretched to the point when it sounds false.

Music is no automatic gateway to holiness. It doesn't automatically fill a guru with generosity and benign caring. Musicians can be petty, and musicians bitch.


Transcending the mundane

The guru's power enjoys the sanction of tradition.

Many gurus use this sanction benignly, treating their pupils like their children, feeding, nurturing and disciplining them into learning the art. One also hears of gurus who drive students to depression and madness, gurus who humiliate brilliant students for fear that they may surpass their own children, and gurus who cynically turn students with no musical potential into unpaid domestic help.

Much can be said for a down-to-earth approach to music instruction, at least at the elementary stages. Surely there is a world of difference between the chilla that a musician enters into of his own volition, and the distraught state that a guru wilfully pushes his disciple into?

Alaap explains many concepts well. Its glossary is very useful, thanks especially to the demonstrations on the companion CDs.

The varieties of graces, however well explained in words, become much clearer when you hear them sung or played.

You can read what a sthayi (octave) means in the book, and then play the CD to understand how different sthayis sound: five sthayis -- anumandra, mandra, madhya, tara, atitara -- are demonstrated on the veena by Jayanthi R Krishnan.

Similarly, you hear well-known names performing the dhrupad, dhamar, khayal, thumri, tappa, dhun, ghazal, bhajan, kirtan and jugalbandi. The various gharanas are illustrated with recordings of stalwarts. You hear samples of various instruments, including some rare ones like the esraj.


Fantastic galaxy
Alaap offers a fantastic galaxy of singers and instrumentalists - from Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Dagar brothers, Amir Khan, Bismillah Khan, Ravi Shankar, Ali Akbar Khan, Kumar Gandharva, Bhimsen Joshi and Jasraj to younger musicians like Zakir Hussain and Shubha Mudgal.

In the southern section, we hear veterans like Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer, Lalgudi Jayaraman, A K C Natarajan and D K Pattammal and youngsters like Unnikrishnan and U Srinivas. For both the Hindustani and Karnatak sections, Alaap has managed to get invaluable archival material from All India Radio. HMV has also pitched in with material from its rich catalogue. In addition, Alaap has acommissioned some original recording.

Some drawbacks: the voiceover (it's in English throughout) mispronounces words, changing the meaning of Sanskrit words: 'aadhaara shadja' becomes 'adhara shadja' ('aadhara' means base, and refers to the key note, while 'adhara' means lips!); similarly 'swarajati' becomes 'swarajaati' and 'jaavali' becomes 'javaali'.

Many musicologists believe the ragas are derived from folk tunes sung in various regions. That's how we have ragas named after regions (Multani from Multan, Goud Malhar and Goud Sarang from the Goud - meaning Bengal - region, the Kanadas from the Kannada-speaking regions, and so on).

Alaap does not talk about this connection with the non-Sanskritic traditions, preferring to leave the impression that the grand Indian music tradition came totally from the Vedic past.

The marga and desi interaction of Indian culture finds no mention anywhere, but such a study is important to an understanding of Indian music, which continues to thrive in its oral, unwritten, and in that sense folk, form.

The music of the 'classical' Jaipur gharana, for instance, is strikingly close to the music of Rajasthan's 'folk' singers. Many folk tunes are even now being codified and adapted into the classical repertoire. Raga Bihari, a favourite of Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur, is full of the swirling phrases that we hear in folk songs.

Alaap is huge in scale and sweep, and hopes to address an audience that may have been denied exposure to its cultural roots. An introduction such as this one has the potential to lure many of us into the wondrous world of Indian music.

The landscape we see on our journey may differ from what is described here, but we would still be grateful to Alaap for showing us the first turning.