Before I get to everything else, I want to put it out there that there is an iPhone game called QuizUp based on trivia questions. Basically you fight timed mini-matches against friends and strangers and keep accumulating points and different levels of expertise. The subjects include anything from American History to Bollywood, and they also have rankings showing your relative process compared to other people in your country. I currently hold the dubious double distinction of being the Best in Pakistan in both Musicals and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I know, I would be mortified were I not so proud.
You can imagine my excitement when I found out I would be going to the new production of the musical Grease in Karachi. (Musicals, you’ll recall, had a brief “moment” in Pakistan in the 2000s when corporate-sponsored amateur theatrical groups began to get together and lip sync to the soundtracks of Moulin Rouge and The Phantom of the Opera.) Now I hadn’t seen a good one in a while, and so I was delighted to find that Grease, gratefully, was amazing. Unlike some other local productions, this one has a live band and the accord actually sang the (over 20!) songs on stage. Everything from the sets to the delivery to the dancing was joyous, beautiful and wonderfully executed. The male lead Ahmed Ali was a charismatic version of John Travolta, and the sexually assertive Rizzo was played by the sensationally talented Sanam Saeed, who was my favorite part of the play.
One thing you should know is that seating is first-come-first-serve, and I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to the snarky 18 year-old girl who was trying to keep 9 seats free: I’m usually not that angry a person and, upon reflection, I honestly don’t think you look like a hemorrhoid and I am sorry for having pointed it out. But I needed that seat.
The only travesty in the entire play was the female lead, a role sung (I use the term loosely) by semi-famous singer Ayesha Omar. I didn’t get why she was anywhere near that play. I don’t mean to be unkind, but Omar was so obviously the least charismatic actor on stage, which is weird because her character has to be likable. Plus, Omar is apparently a professional singer with Coke Studio and Lux Style Awards to her name, making her inability to sustain a note that much more painful. By the end I refused to watch while she was onstage and I was ludicrously angry that the one miscast person was also one of the most visible. I caught one of the last performances in Karachi and I hear the play might be moving to Lahore for a few weeks. If you get the chance, please go to see it. It’s charming, endearing, impressive and distracting.
Incidentally, all of these are reasons I find myself in Karachi once more to attend Bilawal Bhutto Zardari’s Sindh Fest, more specifically the Art Fest that is under the festival umbrella. Before the events began there was a mini-controversy over the opening ceremony being held in Mohenjodaro. You may recall I wrote about going to Mohenjodaro two years ago and bemoaning how we should really take care of that place. At the time the tour guides were offering to sell me antiquities on the down low, so the need was urgent.
[quote]People were virulent in their hatred for the Sindh Fest, claiming it would all but dismantle Monenjodaro[/quote]
I was so pleased when I heard the festival would open there. But people were virulent in their hatred for the organizers and the fest, claiming it would all but dismantle Monenjodaro. Such fantastical claims reeked of desi exaggeration, of course. Anyone who’s actually been to the site knows that they rebuild it (that’s right kids, rebuild it) several times a year with new clay and protective layers. So it’s unlikely there would be a catastrophic implosion after one night of music and cheering.
Curiously, Pakistanis didn’t seem to care that much about this vestige of their “heritage” three years ago when people were considering burying the place again because it would be safer under ground. The upshot to the Sindh-Fest-MoDo controversy was that people began to talk about archeological conservation and Antiquity Acts, and for that alone I’m always going to be grateful. Perhaps next time we can talk about indiscriminate digging in the Old City of Lahore, or the effective eradication of Taxila from the national consciousness.
I did get to see the opening night of Art Fest, which inaugurated a two-week-long extravaganza at Karachi’s Frere Hall arranged by gallerist/curator/art star Sameera Raja and artist Adeela Suleman. Raja runs the Canvas Gallery, the best-run contemporary space in Karachi (full disclosure: I have showed my work there more than once) and so I knew I would be in for a treat. It began with a live performance by artist Amin Gulgee involving fire and sounds and dust, a piece about forgetting the Indus Civilization. The night was arranged so well that when Gulgee’s performance ended, the nest began in another part of the extensive garden, keeping the guests engaged throughout. It was all so organic and lovely. The exhibition itself was inside Frere Hall under the Saddequain ceiling (less offensive to look at than the one in the Lahore Museum) and included fantastic work by artists from Sindh, many of whom are international stars in their own right.
I spend so often being a nasty, gnarly critic that it’s nice to be silenced by events like Grease and Sindh Fest. And isn’t that the point? To reclaim some of the lost ground and fill the deafening silence that the prolonged, systematic attack on our culture has enforced? Perhaps we should ask Imran-you’re-the-one-that-they-want-oo-oo-oo-Khan for his opinion on this. I mean, the Great Leader of the People has just been selected by the Taliban to represent their interests in talks with the state of Pakistan. All his Facebook fans must be so proud…
Write to thekantawala@gmail.com and follow @fkantawala on twitter
You can imagine my excitement when I found out I would be going to the new production of the musical Grease in Karachi. (Musicals, you’ll recall, had a brief “moment” in Pakistan in the 2000s when corporate-sponsored amateur theatrical groups began to get together and lip sync to the soundtracks of Moulin Rouge and The Phantom of the Opera.) Now I hadn’t seen a good one in a while, and so I was delighted to find that Grease, gratefully, was amazing. Unlike some other local productions, this one has a live band and the accord actually sang the (over 20!) songs on stage. Everything from the sets to the delivery to the dancing was joyous, beautiful and wonderfully executed. The male lead Ahmed Ali was a charismatic version of John Travolta, and the sexually assertive Rizzo was played by the sensationally talented Sanam Saeed, who was my favorite part of the play.
One thing you should know is that seating is first-come-first-serve, and I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to the snarky 18 year-old girl who was trying to keep 9 seats free: I’m usually not that angry a person and, upon reflection, I honestly don’t think you look like a hemorrhoid and I am sorry for having pointed it out. But I needed that seat.
The only travesty in the entire play was the female lead, a role sung (I use the term loosely) by semi-famous singer Ayesha Omar. I didn’t get why she was anywhere near that play. I don’t mean to be unkind, but Omar was so obviously the least charismatic actor on stage, which is weird because her character has to be likable. Plus, Omar is apparently a professional singer with Coke Studio and Lux Style Awards to her name, making her inability to sustain a note that much more painful. By the end I refused to watch while she was onstage and I was ludicrously angry that the one miscast person was also one of the most visible. I caught one of the last performances in Karachi and I hear the play might be moving to Lahore for a few weeks. If you get the chance, please go to see it. It’s charming, endearing, impressive and distracting.
Incidentally, all of these are reasons I find myself in Karachi once more to attend Bilawal Bhutto Zardari’s Sindh Fest, more specifically the Art Fest that is under the festival umbrella. Before the events began there was a mini-controversy over the opening ceremony being held in Mohenjodaro. You may recall I wrote about going to Mohenjodaro two years ago and bemoaning how we should really take care of that place. At the time the tour guides were offering to sell me antiquities on the down low, so the need was urgent.
[quote]People were virulent in their hatred for the Sindh Fest, claiming it would all but dismantle Monenjodaro[/quote]
I was so pleased when I heard the festival would open there. But people were virulent in their hatred for the organizers and the fest, claiming it would all but dismantle Monenjodaro. Such fantastical claims reeked of desi exaggeration, of course. Anyone who’s actually been to the site knows that they rebuild it (that’s right kids, rebuild it) several times a year with new clay and protective layers. So it’s unlikely there would be a catastrophic implosion after one night of music and cheering.
Curiously, Pakistanis didn’t seem to care that much about this vestige of their “heritage” three years ago when people were considering burying the place again because it would be safer under ground. The upshot to the Sindh-Fest-MoDo controversy was that people began to talk about archeological conservation and Antiquity Acts, and for that alone I’m always going to be grateful. Perhaps next time we can talk about indiscriminate digging in the Old City of Lahore, or the effective eradication of Taxila from the national consciousness.
I did get to see the opening night of Art Fest, which inaugurated a two-week-long extravaganza at Karachi’s Frere Hall arranged by gallerist/curator/art star Sameera Raja and artist Adeela Suleman. Raja runs the Canvas Gallery, the best-run contemporary space in Karachi (full disclosure: I have showed my work there more than once) and so I knew I would be in for a treat. It began with a live performance by artist Amin Gulgee involving fire and sounds and dust, a piece about forgetting the Indus Civilization. The night was arranged so well that when Gulgee’s performance ended, the nest began in another part of the extensive garden, keeping the guests engaged throughout. It was all so organic and lovely. The exhibition itself was inside Frere Hall under the Saddequain ceiling (less offensive to look at than the one in the Lahore Museum) and included fantastic work by artists from Sindh, many of whom are international stars in their own right.
I spend so often being a nasty, gnarly critic that it’s nice to be silenced by events like Grease and Sindh Fest. And isn’t that the point? To reclaim some of the lost ground and fill the deafening silence that the prolonged, systematic attack on our culture has enforced? Perhaps we should ask Imran-you’re-the-one-that-they-want-oo-oo-oo-Khan for his opinion on this. I mean, the Great Leader of the People has just been selected by the Taliban to represent their interests in talks with the state of Pakistan. All his Facebook fans must be so proud…
Write to thekantawala@gmail.com and follow @fkantawala on twitter