A non-event: Benefit show for folk artist
Benefit concert held for renowned Pashto folk singer, Badshah Zarin Jan.
ISLAMABAD:
Location as they say is key and a mismatch between ‘event’ and ‘location’ or ‘venue’ is like wearing a sock on the wrong foot. This unjust left sock, right foot was witnessed in a benefit concert held for renowned Pashto folk singer, Badshah Zarin Jan under the auspices of the National Institute of Folk and Traditional Heritage (Lok Virsa) and ‘institutional co-operation between Pakistan and Norway’ (with not a Norwegian in sight).
I cry foul and say unjust, for where a concert means a gathering of people, an audience, the ‘concert’ I witnessed was embarrassingly poor, almost disrespectfully so; the ‘large number of people’(as written in the bunk press release), a crowd of barely 20; 25 if you include the tea bearing staff.
The event was organised to help support and promote the near dying folk arts and though very well intentioned and laudatory, it was treated with a certain amount of disdain.
The show itself was opened by Haseena Naz, a folk singer from Swabi, who, reeling off such well known Pashto songs as Shinwari Lawangeena and Ma Ta Pa Speenay Kholay Khandal Makawa, got the show off to a cracking start.
Accompanied by the consummate band, the music was made even more rousing owing to the particularly gifted strumming of the Sareendah, played expertly by Munir Sarhadi’s son. The instrument, familial in relation to the Rabab, is an ornate instrument played with a bow, its sound echoing like some distant thought.
Following this well cheered warm up, Badshah Zarin Jan herself took the stage, albeit seated in a wheelchair, petit and frail. Her wizened, tweaked and almost crackling renditions of her own celebrated songs Gullay Bibi Gullay and Za Panah Walarah Yama were a treat; one wonders what her performances were like when she was in full fettle. The lady, though visibly unwell was still composed enough to perform and even enact certain line and lyrics of her song.
It was indeed saddening to see the musicians and the wheelchair-ridden lady of the night herself, perform so accomplishedly to an empty hall; if not for the promised cash award, one would have considered this treatment most discourteous, amounting to insolence. Why put on an event in the first place, if only for the musicians to applaud themselves? Though admittedly, the Media Centre at Lok Virsa is a nice, well equipped hall, it was not the place for this event and if no other venue was available, the organisers should have then at least publicised the event; it would have been a capital success.
Another downright shame was the audience itself, and though attempting no denigration of them, there were hardly any Pathan in the audience, the songs lost upon an audience though receptive of the music, ignorant of the songs, Greek to their unaccustomed ears.
Of course, fingers must again be pointed at the organisers for this ramshackle display and to add insult to injury, the preceding press release, so spurious in its authorship, so completely fudged had the gall to actually thank the Minister of Culture for attending, who was conspicuous by his absence and even quoting this illustrious dignitary ‘speaking on the occasion’ who towing the party line did not forget to mention the contributions of the late great ZAB for his creation of Lok Virsa and other ‘milestone achievements’
If being shameless is one thing, being disrespectful is another. They should have spared the ailing lady the trouble and mailed her the cash award instead.
Published in The Express Tribune, December 8th, 2010.
Location as they say is key and a mismatch between ‘event’ and ‘location’ or ‘venue’ is like wearing a sock on the wrong foot. This unjust left sock, right foot was witnessed in a benefit concert held for renowned Pashto folk singer, Badshah Zarin Jan under the auspices of the National Institute of Folk and Traditional Heritage (Lok Virsa) and ‘institutional co-operation between Pakistan and Norway’ (with not a Norwegian in sight).
I cry foul and say unjust, for where a concert means a gathering of people, an audience, the ‘concert’ I witnessed was embarrassingly poor, almost disrespectfully so; the ‘large number of people’(as written in the bunk press release), a crowd of barely 20; 25 if you include the tea bearing staff.
The event was organised to help support and promote the near dying folk arts and though very well intentioned and laudatory, it was treated with a certain amount of disdain.
The show itself was opened by Haseena Naz, a folk singer from Swabi, who, reeling off such well known Pashto songs as Shinwari Lawangeena and Ma Ta Pa Speenay Kholay Khandal Makawa, got the show off to a cracking start.
Accompanied by the consummate band, the music was made even more rousing owing to the particularly gifted strumming of the Sareendah, played expertly by Munir Sarhadi’s son. The instrument, familial in relation to the Rabab, is an ornate instrument played with a bow, its sound echoing like some distant thought.
Following this well cheered warm up, Badshah Zarin Jan herself took the stage, albeit seated in a wheelchair, petit and frail. Her wizened, tweaked and almost crackling renditions of her own celebrated songs Gullay Bibi Gullay and Za Panah Walarah Yama were a treat; one wonders what her performances were like when she was in full fettle. The lady, though visibly unwell was still composed enough to perform and even enact certain line and lyrics of her song.
It was indeed saddening to see the musicians and the wheelchair-ridden lady of the night herself, perform so accomplishedly to an empty hall; if not for the promised cash award, one would have considered this treatment most discourteous, amounting to insolence. Why put on an event in the first place, if only for the musicians to applaud themselves? Though admittedly, the Media Centre at Lok Virsa is a nice, well equipped hall, it was not the place for this event and if no other venue was available, the organisers should have then at least publicised the event; it would have been a capital success.
Another downright shame was the audience itself, and though attempting no denigration of them, there were hardly any Pathan in the audience, the songs lost upon an audience though receptive of the music, ignorant of the songs, Greek to their unaccustomed ears.
Of course, fingers must again be pointed at the organisers for this ramshackle display and to add insult to injury, the preceding press release, so spurious in its authorship, so completely fudged had the gall to actually thank the Minister of Culture for attending, who was conspicuous by his absence and even quoting this illustrious dignitary ‘speaking on the occasion’ who towing the party line did not forget to mention the contributions of the late great ZAB for his creation of Lok Virsa and other ‘milestone achievements’
If being shameless is one thing, being disrespectful is another. They should have spared the ailing lady the trouble and mailed her the cash award instead.
Published in The Express Tribune, December 8th, 2010.