BLUE IS THE WARMEST COLOUR: To Love.

La Vie d’Adèle - Chapitres 1 & 2

Dir: Abdellatif Kechiche

Starring: Léa Seydoux and Adèle Exarchopoulos

Adapted from a graphic novel of the same name by Julie Maroh, director Abdellatif Kechiche's Palme d'Or winning drama is about a girl's coming of age into her sexuality and experiencing love. The internet and social media alike has been flooded with discussions about primarily the lesbian love-making scenes between the two female protagonists, Léa Seydoux and Adèle Exarchopoulos. Also, I find it rather amusing, that comments on the film's viability and 'watchability' has been accounted vis-a-vis the Academy Awards, which I find rather amateurish. The decision to award it the highest honour at Cannes, by a jury headed by a 'leading' American filmmaker has been termed 'bold' but again, the assertion foregrounds the film's depiction of nudity as its cinematic marker, which I find again rather awkward. This film must be viewed  beyond that.

It must be said, that the fact which made me get interested in the film, is the Palme d'Or honour. Cinephiles, like myself watching foreign films, sometimes, without getting much into it, use awards as a marker to choose, and this was no different. I won't get much into the plot of the film, but just that the 179 minutes film is about the girl Adèle, who finds love in another woman, with a blue haired artist, Emma (Léa Seydoux). They share their love, passion and life together, and eventually lose it, and live it.

Blue is the Warmest Colour, at heart, is a relationship drama, and through it explorations of the time and moment has been conducted. Backed by stellar performances from the two leading ladies, so much so, that the Cannes jury opined they share the award with the filmmaker himself. As a cinema enthusiast, Adèle's depiction of Adèle is brutally honest. At the tender age of 19, she approaches the character with tremendous intensity and emotional honesty as does Léa Seydoux in her portrayal of Emma. Though cinema is a collaborative art, where the auteur fashions the narrative, it however needs characters to give it the requisite shape, the body, the heart and the guts. As an Indian, with the world's largest film industry in the country, in the 21st Century, it is recommended to be part of a world cinema audience, yet a petty comparative attitude cannot be ignored, and one cannot but marvel at the acting prowess of these two female leads, on whom the entire weight of the narrative lay.

Intriguing has been the social documentary in the film. Exploring lesbianism, a viable question can and would be raised, is how apt is Abdellatif Kechiche, a heterosexual male, in depicting a lesbian relationship and sexual encounter, through two heterosexual females. The politics of representation is to be looked at and can be questioned quite justifiably one feels. Julie Maroh, raises this objection.

Cinematically, shot with almost a historian's gaze and precision, each scene is crafted to meticulous detail. The director's craftsmanship and demanding methods, which made him shoot numerous takes, until his actors breathed the pain of the characters, almost drove his actors to mutinous thoughts. From the beginning, the filmmaker focuses his camera on the extreme close-ups of his female characters, almost alienating the external world to the background. However, thematically that has a contextual presence. The film explores with a wry sense, the difference in social class in the French society. Explored firstly through the two dinner table sequences, firstly at Emma's place, where her upper-middle class parents, both are aware and acknowledge their daughter's sexual orientation, rebellious and frank disposition, the blue streak and Adèle as her partner. Their choice of topics for conversation, the art, and Adèle's wishing to find something concrete (economically) offering the sustainability for the future is part of her middle class up bringing. Likewise, at her place, her father comments too about the need to find some concrete 'job' as means of economic security over other matters as art, life and passion. Adèle's parents think them to be friends, whereas Emma's are aware of their ongoing relationship. The choice of food offers a social document as well, from the apparently exotic oysters in Emma's place to the much more banal choice of spaghetti at Adèle's.

The metaphorical use of the colour 'blue' which gives the title is seen in the shades of the walls of the classroom of which Adèle is a student, to the light shade in the 'gay' bar which Adèle visits to most importantly the colour of Emma's hair and eventually to the dress which Adèle wears to Emma's art exhibition; the colour represents the freedom, vibrancy and liberation, as well as sadness. The change of Emma's hair from its striking blue to its blonde nature, suggest at the end, that Emma, the vibrant free thinking artist, has walked the road to success, and compromise. The visual symbolism, of the colour blue, which adorns, even the nude portrait which Emma had painted of Adèle during their earlier times, express the cinematic metaphor of transformation. Emma now, has compromised, and fitted in, whereas albeit in melancholy, and uncertainty Adèle is yet to. And as she moves into uncertainty, the film ends.

Politically this leads us to another question. Accepting the fact that cinema is basically a voyeuristic art, Kechiche, has in this film, stretched it to an unfathomable depth. His camera hovers around the ladies and apparently records their every movement, gesture in the most minutest of details. The question arises, both cinematographically and through the narrative, is whose gaze are we the audience being made to see? and in a larger context whose eyes are we seeing it through? Is it not another depiction of a failed lesbian relationship? Is not the auteur exploring, the female body and lesbianism through the tried and tested masculine gaze? Throughout the first part of the film, the extensive use of close-ups documenting the facial gestures, body parts and expressions, is deemed to show the intensive emotional experience of Adèle as she grows into her sexuality and into her own identity. Is the director not being unwittingly drawn into his own subjectivity in depicting Adèle's? Kechiche's obsession about the body of his female leads at times makes an uncomfortable presence in the film. It would have perhaps been better if he had let the two women enjoy the pleasure of the freedom he seems to grant the characters but not the actors. At the point of their breaking-up the hand held camera that almost stalked Adèle on the streets, interiorises wonderfully her emotional trauma and pain; pain experienced in reality as Léa Seydoux was repeatedly asked to hit Adèle the actor to extract every drop of pain possible to be depicted, and such demanding techniques gave as its result an unforgettable sequence of love. The questions however remains, is Kechiche, not asserting to that homophobic discourse, which deem the incompatibility of two women eventually coming together in the central relationship? Though Emma speaks about her new relationship, and family with Lise and the emotional bond, but it is sexless. To contrast it with the central relationship on which the film focuses, is based on sexual passion but at heart unstable. A note of intrigue is brought about at the apparent expression of 'femininity' in the later part of the film, compared to the assertive nature of Emma, a 'masculine' counterpart. Which one feels might be stereotypical.

The film however is about love, and the emotional depths it makes individuals reach. Though the homosexual point in the narrative gives it certain political issues, the entelechic issue here is love. The film is one of the most passionate and brutally honest naturalistic expression of love between two individuals. Love becomes the force through which freedom, social strata, gender politics and largely the construction of identity is viewed. It is the deepest recesses of the self, which the director reaches and makes his actors reach to extract out the tenderness, passion and ferocity which obviously makes love a motivating force, an adventure, which tears and builds and is everlasting. Despite the obvious questions the film would endure, one cannot but feel, that credit has to be given where it is due. In the words of Alain Badiou, "We could say that love is a tenacious adventure. The adventurous side is necessary, but equally so is the need for tenacity. To give up at the first hurdle, the first quarrel, is only to distort love. Real love is one that triumphs lastingly, sometimes painfully, over the hurdles erected by time, space and the world.” (In Praise of Love) 'La Vie d'Adèle' is perhaps the story of that triumph.

Image Courtesy: Wikipedia.

Jatiswar: Reincarnated.

Film: Jatiswar (A Musical of Memories)

Dir: Srijit Mukherjee

Cast: Prosenjit Chatterjee, Jisshu Sengupta, Swastika Mukherjee, Abir Chatterjee, Kharaj Mukherjee and others.

Music: Kabir Suman, Indraadip Dasgupta

Gujrati boy Rohit Mehta (Jisshu Sengupta) is apparently in love with Mahamaya ('Bengali with a vengeance')  played by Swastika and goes out to learn Bengali and compose a song for her in Bengali as challenged by her. Rohit takes up the challenge to do the same and woo her lady love. This cross cultural love story between a Gujrati boy and a Bengali girl is the apparently simplistic premise of this film by Srijit Mukherjee. However, what follows weaves another tale and gives the plot another dimension. In a bid to complete his dissertation and learn Bengali language and music, Rohit travels to Chandernagore (erstwhile Pharashdanga) to study about Hensman Anthony, better known as Anthony Phiringee or Anthony Kobiyal. There he meets the simple and unremarkable and yet mysterious Kushal Hazra, the assistant librarian. When in search of Anthony Kobiyal, and accidently bumping into Kushal, hardly does Rohit know that his search of the elusive Portuguese poet and singer from the forgotten pages in history would lead him to a ‘Jatiswar’, a reincarnated Anthony Phiringee. On the one side, is Rohit and the other is a demented, schizophrenic Kushal Hazra. As the forgotten pages of late 19^th Century colonial Bengal comes to life, Kushal Hazra played immaculately by Prosenjit Chatterjee slowly disintegrates as the memories of his past life haunt him in the present and slowly obliterates his very existence, physically and mentally. Kushal’s reminiscence of his past life is recounted through disjointed delirium and episodes of paranoia; and through him a forgotten period of Bengali music and tradition is enlivened, and which is the protagonist of the film.

The film is definitely not a reprisal of the famous Uttam Kumar starrer, and neither is the film wholly about Anthony Phiringee, though his shadow looms large over the entire film. The main protagonist of the film is the Music and the tracing of the lineage of ‘Bangla gan’ from its Kobiyal days to the contemporary. Composed by Kabir Suman, the music was meant to be the true highlight of the film and it definitely is. The narrative is woven around the music; the film is the music. Composed with the touch and precision of an astute historian by arguably the greatest composer of our times, our very own ‘Nagorik Kobiyal’ brings to life the ‘kali kirtan’, ‘tarjai’, ‘akhrai’, ‘toppa’ and ‘kheur’ of the Kabigaan era with effortless ease. Without any verifiable notations available, or any ‘teacher’ who would trace this source, what Suman achieves is remarkable to say the least. The nuances, moods, and the witty duels that were composed with impromptu songs are brought to the fore. The forgotten past is rendered lively and the erstwhile colonial Bengal is brought alive for all to see, from Pharashdanga to Sovabajar Rajbari. The 13 kobiyal songs, and the opening song, ‘Khudar Kasam Jaan’ sung by Suman, takes one in a journey to the past, into the mind and music of the Kobiyals through whom we trace a tradition of music. Srijit carefully places the modern composers, band musicians in the film and traces them back in sequences with the Kobiyals of the past. Bengali music is rich in its tradition of poetic talent, and philosophy (which Anthony quite aptly points out in the film, that apart from the music and the words, a very large part of the song is left to philosophy); and hence from that tradition is poured out ‘Khriste ar Kriste kono tofat naire bhai’ or ‘Jaat galo jaat galo bole/ eki ajob karkhana...’. Time is woven as the text in this film, where music is the thread that binds all together. Bhola Moira, to Jagneshwari, to Ram Basu to the majestic Haru Thakur, to Manna Dey, to Sandhya Mukherjee to Rupam Islam and Kabir Suman himself.  Srikanto Acharya as the voice of Anthony Phiringee is wonderful to say the least, Kabir Suman lends his voice to Haru Thakur, revelation as a singer was none other than Suman Mukhopadhyay in whose voice we hear ‘Age Jodi shokhi janitem...’. Sromona Bhattacharya deserves mention as the voice of Jagneshwari and of course Rupankar as the voice of Rohit sings the soulful ‘E Tumi Kamon Tumi’ composed by Kabir Suman himself . Kharaj Mukhopadhyay, one of the most brilliant yet underrated artistes in the Bengali scenario, as Bhola Moira is effortless both with his acting and with his voice. Born out of his cult song of the same name, the soul of the film however goes to Kabir Suman.

On the acting front, Prosenjit as the dual presence of Anthony Phiringee and Kushal Hazra had the hazardous task of essaying two characters 177 years apart in the same film! Though at times, his portrayal of Anthony Kobiyal appears a bit ‘orchestrated’ and lacks an effortless ease; as the demented librarian torn between two worlds, trapped in the memories of the past and on the verge of losing sanity and any contact with verifiable reality, Prosenjit is outstanding. By being on a strict diet, the almost bald, broken look that Prosenjit got for the film without prosthetic aid, would usher in a new high in method acting in Bengali cinema. However, one fault would lie that as Kushal Hazra he gets very little screen time. Possibly to give due credence to the Rohit- Mahamaya love plot, Kushal Hazra the ‘Jatiswar’ has been a bit relegated, whereas it should ideally been him around which the plot revolved. Jisshu with his restrained approach and Swastika with her part does well. Being tutored by Rituparno Ghosh almost during  the final phase of his cinematic life , Jisshu Sengupta has come a long way as an actor and it showed.

Smart photography has always been a hallmark of Srijit Mukherjee and this film is no different on that count. Srijit is brilliant at penning sequences and especially the scene at Rohit's house where Kushal Hazra recouts the last phase of Anthony's life in delirium under a red haze of night lamp is remarkably shot. However, there are certain elements in his films, which he would be ideally better without. For example, the speech bubbles and some almost enforced ‘uber coolness’ in certain characters appear to dilute the film. Credit though should be given to the tracing of locations and the premise and the final expose at the end. The film ends with Kabir Suman who is the 'Gaanola' of modern times, who has no qualms about proclaiming “sokole bolchhe likhchhe Suman/ ashole likhchhe Lalon” combining tradition and individual talent in one unfathomable harmony. Jatiswar is borne out of Suman and fittingly ends with him:

Amarotter prottasha nei nei kono dabidawa
Ei nosshor jiboner mane shudhu tomakei chawa
Muhurto jai jonmer moto andho jatiswar
Goto jonmer bhule jawa smriti bisrito akkhor
Chhera talpata puthir patae nisshas fele hawa
Ei nosshor jiboner mane shudhu tomakei chawa…

Image Courtesy: 'Jatiswar' facebook page.

Thank You...for everything.

That’s unbelievable!

This expression has over the past quarter of a century almost been used to describe the indescribable. How does he do that? How can he do that? But he does that; and unfortunately from now ‘did that’. But it’s one of our own who did it. Twenty four years is a long time to put to words. The past tense would always be in this case put to the sword, and why not. All good things end, the wise said, but please, some things... can’t it be kept? Time, bides for no man, is said and neither did it for him. He is God, and he is mortal. He made time and by time he is consumed. Yes, he has been showered upon accolades upon accolades. The zenith, the Pantheon and the highest echelons of endeavour and achievement are but dwarfed as he strolled on the greens and made them his own. The master was out to command. From a bloody nose in 1989, to the guard of honour in 2013, the world has come a long way. From the single television in a locality, the world has moved on to television in a pocket.

Quarter of a century almost, is a long time. Yes, the immaculate cuts, the artistic cover drives, the majestic straights, which incidentally have become a hallmark, have been part of a package which has enthralled one and all by its sheer beauty. Yes, beauty. A country very young in age, a generation had never seen and perhaps will never again, the sheer poetry, the moments, and the magic. Art or great art has the capacity, even in its utmost grimness to give a sense of celebration, of joy, of wonder, the joy of creation, the joy to play God. This was art of the highest calibre. Human endeavour of the most magniloquent grandeur expressed before all to see. What set him apart and endeared him to the one and all faithful was just the beauty of him. The beauty he brought on the greens. Man, in a world, in a country where he is surrounded by squalor, filth and degeneration finds joy in the sheer simplicity and beauty of the man. The dance down the track, the glance, the slog-sweep, the straights, the sheer simplicity of the Chaplinesque kind for all, and I mean all members of the game he so loves.

One thing which has set him apart is his part in growing up. Anecdotes which have filled lives, newspapers, daily talks, part of day and dreams of nights. Wonder how he handled it! It’s no mean pressure when every kid wants a piece of him, and wants to be him. He is the only mortal perhaps in a nation whose consciousness is ruled by its Gods, to challenge the creator for celestial glory. As years have passed, one’s associations have changed, from wonder to admiration to following as a teacher. He is a reminder that greatness is never free; it requires sacrifice of the utmost order, attained only through the blood, sweat and tears. The hours put to the course, behind the fanfare of the greatness, behind the glare of the camera. A teaching that no cause is lost, if there is but one to fight for it and fight till the last ounce of strength disappears. His stories and anecdotes have taught that no matter what happens; put a price and a huge price on your sweat. In every walk of life and at every moment of trepidation, the teacher that is he leads to show and inspire. Teach to make each drop of sweat count, and never be satisfied. Growth is the essence of life, and sacrifice is the essence of greatness.

As I write this with possibly a lump in the throat as many of this wonderful nation, I fail to be drawn into the sorrow. It is not the time. Anecdotes have changed into stories, stories into lore and now into legends. Years later, tell your grandchildren that yes, the last of the Titans existed, and we were fortunate to walk the earth with him.

Names have not been taken, but then again, do we need to? “I have seen God” said a fine Australian with 380 as highest score. Then again, need we take the name of God? As he leaves the turf hallowed by his presence, the glance to the heavens for one last time, to us mere mortals his life rings, put a price on every drop of your sweat. Greats are born, genius create themselves from greatness.

For the will displayed and the beauty enjoyed, all I can say is, Thank You. I owe you master.

A legendary American boxer perhaps fittingly said,

“Champions aren't made in gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them. A desire, a dream, a vision, they have to have the last minute stamina, they have to be a little faster, they have to have the skill and the will.”


Image courtesy: Facebook page 

THE JEWS OF CALCUTTA.

Well, let me be clear at first. This article is a sort of compendium and collection of information collected from various sources from the internet and other places. The sources, I would list below, to its utmost authenticity. The question would be then, why on earth would I be writing this piece if  the materials are available already? The answer would be to provide, common yet enthusiastic friends and readers a collective outlook into the ever dwindling Jewish population of Calcutta. To put it simply, to provide the information in one place.

So why the Jews? A newsprint was brought to my attention by friend Shrutarshi Das, (http://www.telegraphindia.com/1131017/jsp/calcutta/story_17389837.jsp#.UnuLntLEJl0 ) where we learn about the digitized archiving of the various documents relating to the Jewish community of Calcutta by Jael and Flower Silliman and being assisted by Prof. Amlan Dasgupta of Jadavpur University, Kolkata. The article went,

"The museum project is led by Jael Silliman, one of the 25 Jews remaining in Calcutta. The 58-year-old former women’s studies teacher at the University of Iowa is being assisted in her task by Amlan Dasgupta, professor at Jadavpur University." (The Telegraph, Kolkata)

The article also mentions,

"The local Jewish community, comprising mostly elders, was once 6,000-strong. The first batch of Jews had arrived in the country from West Asia in the late 18th century. There are three main branches of the community in India — the Bene-Israel (literally meaning Children of Israel), the Cochin Jews who prospered along the Malabar coast and Baghdadi Jews, who settled mostly in Calcutta and Mumbai." (The Telegraph, Kolkata)

If we are to trace the history of the Jews in Calcutta, we find that the Jewish population in Calcutta is mostlyBaghdadi Jews who came to the city for trade. At one point the community was as strong as 6000, even as per the Jewish encyclopedia, 1906 (http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/3917-calcutta), it mentions Calcutta, the "Capital of Bengal, and seat of government of British India. The Jews of Calcutta now number about 2,150, of whom 150 are European and the remainder natives of Asiatic Turkey, Persia, and southern Arabia.". 

However, this number has at present dwindled drastically to 25, and not before long, the presence of the thriving Jewish community in Calcutta, would be part of history. To get a first hand taste of it, even in a miniscule way, through its architecture, was the task we had set ourselves. 

Calcutta, or Kolkata as it is now known, has always been a hub of cosmopolitan existence. Due to its close

THE ESPLANADE MANSIONS

proximity to the river and sea, it had been a thriving centre of trade, commerce and has always attracted entrepreneurs from abroad. Kolkata's Jews were mostly the Baghdadi Jews, coming from Iraq. The first recorded arrival was of Shalome Cohen, a jewel trader, in 1798, who was from Aleppo in present day Syria. The Jewish Encyclopaedia 1906, cites:

 "Shalome David Cohen is the first permanent settler of whom there is authentic record toward the end of the eighteenth century. He became a favorite of the Raja of Lucknow, and even had the honor of riding with him on his elephant."

The most famous of the Jewish families in Kolkata was perhaps the father-son duo of  real estate magnates David Joseph Ezra and Elias David Ezra. They are responsible for stately mansions of the time, like the Esplanade Mansions which look over the Raj Bhavan in Kolkata. The Ezra Hospital, the only Jewish institution of its kind in Calcutta, was erected in 1887, by Mrs. Mozelle E. D. J. Ezra in memory of her husband. It cost 125,000 rupees; and all expenses, save those of doctors, were defrayed by the founder. The Hospital now forms part of the Medical College Hospital, Kolkata.

The city presently has two Jewish Synagogues, which formed part of our visit. One, the Beth-El Synagogue,

THE BETH-EL SYNAGOGUE

at Pollock Street, near Dalhousie Square, is a peaceful existence amidst the hurly burly of the Kolkata metropolitan street. The large facade outside, with the Menorah, (seven lamped candelabrum), and the Star of David gracing its exterior walls, only to be paled in existence by its equally magnificent interiors

A plaque outside tells us, that it was conceived and built by David Joseph Ezra and Ezekiel Judah at the cost of Rs. 50.000, in the year 5616 A.M. and its president Elias Shalome Gubbay, rebuilt and extended it in 5646 A.M. The yearly marker (A.M) being Anno Mundi L. The two dates mentioned, if calculated, comes to roughly 1856 and 1886 A.D in the Gregorian Calendar.

The second synagogue in Kolkata, a stone's throw distance from Beth-El is the Magen David Synagogue, on Brabourne Road. Built in 1884, the Maghen David, or the Shield of David, Synagogue, standing quaint beside a bustling 'bazaar' is reminiscent of the Jewish grandeur which existed once. Not only the nostalgia, and remembrance of things past, the Synagogue, (many mistake it to be a church) is an embodiment of an architectural jewel within this very city. It was built by Elias David Joseph Ezra, in the memory of his father David Joseph Ezra.

"The synagogue is built in the Italian Renaissance style with a brick red finish. The entrance to

MAGHEN DAVID SYNAGOGUE

the synagogue compound is hidden behind makeshift stalls selling hair clips and other trinkets. The Magen David Synagogue is approached through an arched door, containing the hexagonal “Star of David” and Hebrew inscription. The two side walls contains memorial plaques dedicated to the well known Jews of Calcutta (Kolkata). Although the services of the Magen David Synagogue have long stopped but the interior are astonishingly well maintained. The chequered marble floor, gleaming chandeliers, stained glass windows and ornate floral pillars shipped from Paris enhance its Continental look. The alter of the Magen David Synagogue is crowned with an Apse (Half Dome) studded with stars. It represents the heaven. The large plaque in the middle contain the “Ten Commandments.” It also contains several other Hebrew inscription along with several other items of Jewish Iconography, including the seven branched lamp stand of Menorah. High above the wall opposite the alter is a beautiful circular stained glass. At the centre of the hall is a raised podium from where the Rabbi preached. Two sets of stairs from either side of the hall leads to the upper balconies, reserved for women." (Wikipedia)  The interiors are structurally overwhelming, with its large arches and the gleaming stained glass windows.

The many rows of chairs almost echo of a bustling community which once existed. The empty chairs now add

INTERIOR OF THE MAGHEN DAVID SYNAGOGUE

an eerie feel to it. Commonly enough the caretakers of the two synagogues are Muslims, and informs us that since the dwindling down of the population, services are few and far between. Even our contact person for permission was a Bengali Hindu. 

"Magen David and the city’s two other synagogues used to be packed on Jewish holidays. For the first half of the 20th century, Kolkata, then known as Calcutta, was home to nearly 3,500 Jews. At its peak during World War II, the population grew to about 5,000 when Jews from Burma and Europe moved to the city seeking refuge, according to Jael Silliman, one of Kolkata’s remaining Jews and the author of a recent novel on the community.

THE RAISED 'BIMAH' IN  MAGHEN DAVID SYNAGOGUE

“We thrived here,” said Ms. Silliman, 58. “We had Jewish schools and our own newspapers. But now it’s mostly memories. In a few years we’ll all be gone.” 

(http://india.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/24/the-last-jews-of-kolkata/?_r=2  quoted from an article by Zach Marks.) The Maghen David holds various paintings of the erstwhile important people of the Jewish community.

Moving on, many erstwhile roads were named after prominent members of the Jewish community, and still carries their legacy today. Doomotollah street, once inhabited by 'Doms' (the inhabitants of the lowest strata of the caste hierarchy) was renamed as Ezra Street, after Elias David Joseph Ezra. 

"It is interesting to note that the first Bengali theatre was situated at Doomtollah Street. Lebedeff’s theatre was the first to present Bengali dramas in Calcutta, as is evident from an advertisement which appeared in James Hickey’s Bengal Gazette published on November 26, 1795. The advertisement clearly stated that a ‘Bengally Theatre’ – a comedy called ‘The Disguise’ was to open on Friday, November 27, 1795. The play was to commence exactly at 8pm and tickets of boxes and pits were priced at Rs 8 while the gallery tickets were sold at Rs 4."

( http://kolkataonwheelsmagazine.com/kolkata-history/road-history/ezra-streetkolkatas-jewish-connection/)

We also learn that Elias David Joseph Ezra was elected Commissioner of the Calcutta Municipal Corporation in 1876 and he was a member of the Road and Conservancy Committee. 

ELIAS MEYER FREE SCHOOL & TALMUD TORAH

 The Jewish population of Kolkata, had also their influence in the field of education. The city still has two schools set up by the community. The Jewish Girls School, and the Elias Meyer Free School and Talmud Torah. Both, however admit students from all communities now. However, Elias Meyer School, as the name suggests was set up as the means of free education for Jewish Children. The Jewish Encyclopedia mentions that there was, apart from free education for the underprivileged Jewish children, provisions for meals in the afternoon. The School still stands today. 

The Jews had made their presence felt in fields of education, business as well as cinema. Mention must also be made of Rachel Sofaer, who acted in Bengali silent films under the name of Arati Devi and Tabita Solomon, the first Jewish lady to acquire a degree in dental sciences in 1922. In the fields of business, much has been talked about the real estate magnates, the Ezras. Also mention must be made of Sassoon & Co. as one of the business pioneers of the city. Also David Nahoum, who till his death recently, held an eminent position amongst the Jewish fraternity in the city, as the owner of the famous confectionery shop at New Market, holds his own place amongst the Jewish business pioneers. Nahoum's at New Market still holds its 'crowd-pull' after so many years in existence. 

To conclude it would be apt to quote again, Ms. Silliman, “We have such a fascinating history, one that is very much tied to the history of the city.” (http://india.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/24/the-last-jews-of-kolkata/?_r=2). We cannot but agree with the statement.

P.S.  Any attempt at visiting the two Jewish Synagogues, would have to be permitted in writing and the permission to be obtained from Nahoum's Confectioneries at New Market.

References:

1. http://india.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/24/the-last-jews-of-kolkata/?_r=2

2. http://www.geni.com/projects/Baghdadi-Trade-Diaspora-Jews-in-Calcutta/12492

3. http://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/baghdadi-jewish-women-in-india

4. http://kolkataonwheelsmagazine.com/kolkata-history/road-history/ezra-streetkolkatas-jewish-connection/

5. http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/3917-calcutta#anchor3

6. Wikipedia.

7.http://www.telegraphindia.com/1131017/jsp/calcutta/story_17389837.jsp#.UnuzHtLEJl1

Copyright claim: The copyright of all the images in this post rests with the author, and any re-use of the images would require the permission of the author.

*** Thanks would be an understatement to fellow enthusiasts, Shrutarshi Das, and Siddhartha Dey.***

                                                                                          

‘THE UNCOMPROMISING THE TRUTHFUL’

                                         --- নিশ্চিন্ত  এখন 

উপদ্রুত বাংলাদেশ , আর  কেউ নেই যে কড়কাবে 

            বিদ্যুচ্চাবুকে এই মধ্যবিত্তি ,সম্পদ ,সন্তোষ 

   মানুষের। তুমি  গেছো ,স্পর্ধা গেছে ,বিনয় এসেছে 

পোড়া পাথরের মতো পড়ে আছো বাংলাদেশে ,পাশে
            ঋত্বিক , তোমার জন্যে তুচ্ছ কবি আর্তনাদ করে ।।

                                          -----  শক্তি  চট্টোপাধ্যায় 

Meghe Dhaka Tara (2013): A look in.

Dir: Kamaleshwar Mukherjee

Firstly I would like to state that director Kamaleswar Mukherjee deserves kudos for even attempting to gauge a subject as maverick as the mind of Ritwik Kumar Ghatak. Meghe Dhaka Tara, not the one made by the maestro, but its namesake is first, not a biopic, in the traditional sense of the term, in a way say, a Hitchcock (2012) or even the Martin Scorsese directed The Aviator (2004). The film tries to get into the mind of the genius that was Ritwik Ghatak.

The film which opens with a disclaimer of ‘no resemblance to living or dead’ bears as the protagonist, a maverick, alcoholic, disillusioned filmmaker by the name of Nilkantha Bagchi (ironically the name of the character Ritwik Ghatak himself played in Jukti Takko o Gappo) played superlatively by Saswata Chatterjee. While attempting a review, it would be an abysmally insignificant attempt to gauge how far realistically, the film portrayed the character, or even the persona of perhaps India’s most misunderstood cinematic genius, as that would be missing the point whole heartedly. The disclaimer, at the start of the film, one feels, too acts as a cinematic device almost, denouncing any clichéd ideas prevailing and subsequent expectations of a biopic. The film takes a multilayered narrative, almost stream-of-consciousness evoking a plethora of surrealistic images and icons throughout, and perhaps this would be the right attitude to portray Ritwik Ghatak.

Getting into the mind of the genius who created everlasting images of Ajantrik, Nagarik, Meghe Dhaka Tara, Komalgandhar, Subarnarekha and others is a daunting as well as an important prospect. Standing in this late capitalist market oriented world, where compromise is coined as adjustment, the experience of a life, a journey of a man who never ever compromised, gave in or gave up his ideologies (and suffered for it, suffered miserably), is utterly necessary. As a filmmaker, more than his early allegiance with left wing politics, what one feels identifies him is his understanding of the collective unconscious of the audience that he represented. He wanted to be a people’s artist, in the most honest sense of the term, and his entire corpus is magnificently lit, by the indigenous iconography and images, be it of the “chhou”, or of the “bohurupi”, and of the ‘great mother archetype’¹, that characterised his films, and of the collective unconscious of his art. Kamaleshwar Mukherjee’s film, focuses on this mind, and punctuates the narrative with the archetypal visions that fascinated the Ghatak. The film does justice to Ghatak’s early fascination, his ‘weapon’, theatre. The film captures the moment, the time, the mood of the post independence era and the turbulent period of the 1970’s and the narrative flows through the twin vehicle of cinema and theatre. The Chevrolet of Ajantrik, seamlessly carries the child of Bari thheke Paliye and all merge with the recurrent images of the mother, be it the dying ‘Bagdi bou’ at the rail station or the final climactic, ‘okal bodhon’ performed by the santhali woman inside the psychiatric ward. Ritwik Ghatak becomes a kalpurush in this film, through whose vision we encounter a long lost history, a fluid history of this country, of the partition, of the life, of the conflicts all merge and flow like the Titas into an overwhelming crescendo of Beethoven’s 5^th.

Kamaleshwar Mukherjee’s Meghe Dhaka Tara makes demands of the audience, and it would be difficult to wholeheartedly accept the film, unless one is aware of the period and the cinema that the man represents. Shot in monochrome, Saswata Chatterjee gives possibly is best performance till date as the troubled genius, Ananya Chatterjee as his wife, is superlative. Abir disappoints. Special mention must be made of Subhasish Mukherjee as Bijan Bhattacharya. Debojyoti Misra’s haunting soundtrack coupled with a masterful use of Beethoven is praiseworthy as it captures the mood and the almost celestial conflicts raging in the mind of Nilkantha Bagchi. Samik Haldar’s cinematography is almost reminiscent of Ritwik’s own episodic mode of images.

One criticism that might be levelled against the portrayal is that Ritwik Ghatak is equivalent to a drunkard, is a cliché which possibly the film tries to exploit, and Saswata’s acting verging on the melodrama. However, the defence I would put is the film never tries to capture the genius in his entirety, as that is impossible. Milos Forman also in his Amadeus(1984) captures Mozart in his madness and genius, a man who composed an entire life’s work without any revision whatsoever. However, as Satyajit Ray aptly pointed, that despite the madness, Mozart definitely had a more restrained and mature side to him also, otherwise the discipline required to compose a Marriage of Figaro or a Don Giovanni would not have been there. However, the madness was a part of the figure. Same goes with this film, country liquour might not be all there is to Ritwik Ghatak, but definitely it is one part of it. Ritwik was not always mad or maverick, and it would be clearly discernible to any reader reading  his keen technical analysis of films in his book, “Cholochhitro Manush ebong Aro Kichhu”.

As the film draws to close, there is the flow of a barrage of emotions, guilt, awe, perplexity that one feels in the heart and mind. The monochrome changes to colour and Ritwik Ghatak seamlessly leaves the cinema as he once famously said, he would merging with the collective unconscious of his ‘Bangla’, a 'Bangla' devoid of the 'Purba o Paschim' that he loved and lived, and from which we have cordoned off ourselves. A devout follower of Luis Bunuel, Ritwik Ghatak once said of Bunuel, “the uncompromising, truthful”, Ritwik Kumar Ghatak himself, was no different.

Notes

1. Ritwik Ghatak, Chalochhitro Manush Ebong Aro Kichhu. Kolkata: Dey’s, 2005, p.146.  

IMAGE COURTESY:
 https://www.facebook.com/photo.php fbid=532785973448706&set=a.490236891036948.1073741825.410412072352764&type=1&theater   

Macbeth 2013: A study in Power.

“There is no escaping from power that it is always-already present constituting that very thing which one attempts to counter it with.” 

Michel Foucault: The History of Sexuality, vol: 1

           

 Though coming a lot late, actually the immense popularity of the play had rendered it impossible to see it early on, hence a review coming after its 38^th performance on stage. Shakespearean adaptations for the Bengali stage has had a long history, starting with Girish Ghosh and his adaptation of Macbeth and followed by another one, called Hariraj which is a translated adaptation of Hamlet. Recently, the Kolkata stage has seen a spurt of Shakespearean performances, and most of notably excellent quality from Suman Mukhopadhyay’s adaptation of King Lear which I believe would go down in the annals as one of the great Shakespearean adaptations on the Kolkata stage to Bibhash Chakraborty’s Hamlet and now Kaushik Sen’s Macbeth. Earlier, we had also seen Bratya Basu’s Hemlat: Prince of Garanhata which too, is an adapted version of Hamlet. Now, whereas Suman Mukhopadhyay, resorts to and keeps the traditional Shakespearean theatrics alive in his adaptation, Kaushik Sen, attempts to contemporarize his. His vision of Macbeth hence becomes a study in power, a power which is ‘always-already’ present.

           

Now, it is pertinent for a sensitive artist to contextualise any adaptation to suit his own frame of reference and politics, and Kaushik Sen does that. In view of the present political situation that encompasses the horizon of the state he inhabits, his adaptation is perhaps an appeal to the times and tries through theatre to encompass that political discourse and the power formations that have taken place. Power relies for its manifestation on knowledge and information and it hence became pertinent that there was present an absurd decor with ears on both wings. Macbeth himself utters after  being king, “Prottek ghore amar guptochor ache”. Sen has played his cards, and played them quite well; and his adaptation explores the intricacies of the process through which power, and in this case political power is filtered down through information. The state relies on information and espionage, and this very comment intertextualises the despotic regimes from the Gestapo to the Stasi, most notably depicted in Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s Oscar winning film, The Lives of Others(2006).

           

It is undeniable, that Shakespeare’s Macbeth along with being his “most profound and mature vision of evil”[1] is also a study in power and its manifestations. Kaushik Sen’s adaptation, unfortunately resorts to the manifestation and leaves the study, sketchily drawn. The opening sequence with the witches is followed by the soldier’s account of the battle, and the first instance of difference is noted here. The use of army uniforms as costumes, suggests the presence of a military regime. Shakespeare’s study in power of the regime was on quite simplistic terms, primarily, the protagonist; a power hungry demagogue who is interspaced by two benevolent rulers. His study of power was on a more psychological plane, and sadly it is this part that Kaushik Sen’s adaptation largely ignores. Swapnashandhani’s Macbeth gets embroiled therefore in the quagmire of the limiting unidimensional political discourse and in a way fails to rise to a multifaceted plane. Kaushik Sen, on the other hand, encapsulates, a continuity of power of the state, and therefore is essentially a nihilistic vision of the modern time; King Duncan, followed by Macbeth and later Malcolm, all resort to military force to quell dissenting voices. Hence Macduff’s eulogizing of the King, makes it a political rhetoric for the face of the power.

            

Shakespeare, much like the Greek predecessors in Sophocles, sought to depict the society in its characters. Michel Foucault perhaps aptly comments,

'A society expresses itself positively in the mental illness displayed by its members, whether it places them at the centre of its religious life, as is often the case amongst the primitive peoples, or whether it seeks to expatriate them by situating them outside social life, as does our culture'.[2]

 In case of Macbeth it is through the madness of Lady Macbeth and the eponymous protagonist that this expression of the society is upheld. The tragedy of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth is eventually resided in their madness, their psychological trauma,

“I am in blood 

Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, 

Returning were as tedious as go o'er.”[3]          

and their own distancing from the natural cosmos. They had sought to upset the hierarchial world order, the crime was against the Godhead, but in the 20^th Century, pragmatist machine driven society, the order is not upset against God, but against the State, a state maintained by its police, its military and its hired murderers, who proclaim at the conclusion quite emphatically one of the most simplistic yet truest assertions on the nature of power, that the face of power changes, but only its perpetrators remain constant. The hired murderers inadvertently gain more importance in the plot than in Shakespeare’s original but being responsive to the time, which is perhaps apt.

When power becomes all pervasive, existence becomes absurd, and Sen’s adaptation ends with the repetitive note of the absurd. Power induces fear and the fear of Macbeth for Banquo is repeated in the fear of Malcolm for Macduff. “It will have blood”, the throne will have blood, and that is the inevitability of it. Swapnasandhani’s adaptation of Macbeth is a study in power and its manifestations and done astutely on that front. However, the primary appeal of Shakespeare’s tragedy would remain its psychoanalytic approach towards an analysis of the protagonist’s mind, the objective-correlatives, the immensely visual narration, and last but not the least, the poetry of Macbeth. It is natural that translation would always leave a slippage a part lost, and unfortunately it is extremely difficult for the heightened speeches of Macbeth to find a close translation, which limits the appeal of this adaptation. Kaushik Sen, is as usual of brilliant quality as Macbeth, as is Reshmi Sen as Lady Macbeth. Kanchan Mallick as Macduff, despite laudable efforts, lacks that visual presence of the character.  

Image from: http://www.livemint.com/r/LiveMint/Period1/2012/11/02/Photos/kolkata--330x220.jpg

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[1] G. Wilson Knight, The Wheel of Fire. London: Routledge, 2001, p.160.

[2] Michel Foucault. (1966). Maladie Mentale et psychologie. 3rd ed. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, p. 75. (1st edition 1954. This passage translated by Clare O'Farrell).

[3] Macbeth. Act III sc: iv.

TALAASH the answer lies within: A REVIEW.

Dir: Reema KAGTI
Starring: Aamir Khan, Rani Mukherjee, Kareena Kapoor and Nawazuddin Siddique.

The new Reema Kagti film, lets call it that and not Aamir Khan starrer; had for the starts made all the right noises. An actor, known for breeding 'different' kind of films in a manufacture oriented film industry, a strong actress in Rani Mukherjee and a noir-thriller to boot. However, after seeing the film, one cannot but feel, that with all the potentialities that had made themselves available for the film, it somehow lets them down. I am not saying the film to be a bad film, mind you. But, I feel that what the film lacked, is what it needed most, the support of a good skeleton, a brilliant plot and a supporting conclusion. The film's premise had all in it to be a wonderful thriller, but what it requires is not to be seen as a thriller. There is an unsolved death, mystery in the hearts of the Mumbai myriad lanes and  red light areas, shady characters and a cop who tries to investigate and look beneath this quagmire of deceit and crime.

One thing, that is noticeable and commendable is that the advent of numerous upcoming filmmakers has given the popular hindi film, a new lift. The producers are not shy of treating different subjects and treatments, and back filmmakers with interesting ideas. Gone are the days when the Hindi cinema used to be three hours long, with songs and trees and dance. Talaash, has that sense of newness. The collage of sequences that open the movie presents a kaliedoscopic panorama of the Mumbai by-lanes. Amongst the glitzily clad prostitutes, the slight image of one hiding a bruised cheek through makeup is eye catching. The eye for detail of the filmmaker is really praiseworthy. Mohanan's cinematography is astute in capturing the dingy lanes through some interesting angles. The space in which a drama unfolds becomes important in a film as such and the visual images do not disappoint.

Talaash is the story of Surjan Singh Shekhawat, who is investigating the accidental death of Armaan Kapoor, a filmstar, whose car apparently swerved out of control and splashed into the ocean dead at night. As he gets entangled in it, and the search, the 'talaash', his personal life gets entangled as his own life and relationship with his wife, Roshni (Rani Mukherjee) gets into turmoil and he is made to confront a suppressed demon, the death and the possible guilt of losing his only son. 'Talaash' should appropriately be seen as the quest for this man, our protagonist and his quest to be finally at peace with himself. As he battles with himself, and embroils himself more to avert his own conscience of holding himself responsible for the death of his son, he meets a sex-worker, Rosie (Kareena Kapoor) who helps in his search, both within and without. And it is where the film starts to run haywire. The problem that I have with the film, is that if the film was to be structured as a man's inner quest to fight his own demons, the entire premise of the film and the plot structure should have been different than what it is, which is in the mould of a typical noir-thriller and a whodunnit story. The audiences's expectations of the film as a thriller is not quenched as the series of bizarre events are easily explained by an equally bizaare supernatural element in the plot. Though we agree that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophies, yet the handling of something as tricky as a supernatural element requires a maturity which lacked in the film, which ultimately concludes with a supernatural revenge motif. Thrillers of the highest order, even if incorporating supernatural elements require plot construction of the highest order which the story lacked, and I am afraid to say the conclusion puts the film down as it resorts to sentimentality which degrades the film.

Other than that, acting wise, there should not be any complaints, Aamir Khan is good, Rani Mukherjee with her restrained self plays her part well, as does Kareena Kapoor. However, once again, I would have to admit the class of Nawazuddin Siddique as Tehmur, who is in two words, brilliant and outstanding. Ram Sampath's music revives the mood of the noir thrillers of the 60's Hollywood and one might say, he is turning out to be a brilliant composer. 'Jeeh le zara' sung by Vishal Dadlani, is a wonderful song, and comes at a perfect moment in the film.

'Talaash' or search, is again a reminder of what could have been. It is a person, with a well toned body, having brilliant eyesight, brilliant heart, digestive system, without any disease and extremely healthy except for a very very very brittle skeleton. Filmmakers should I feel, try to adapt quality thrillers by authors and adapt them to suit the Indian space. Adapting foreign authors and moulding them on Indian contexts has been done in the past and at least it would give a film a basic skeleton to thrive on, and not leave all its cast and members in a 'talaash' for a story.

Image source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Talaash_poster.jpg