The Madhav Chari Trio performed last night at Someplace Else at The Park in Calcutta.
At the outset, I must say the good things before I vent my anger. The Trio played wonderfully well. Hard Bop, with generous doses of Latin elements in a repertoire of covers always goes down well with an audience. Madhav, who gave up a future in mathematics in the USA to learn and play jazz, is a pianist who has studied the masters with enthusiasm, and this showed. Oscar Peterson is obviously a major influence. Madhav's arrangements ably showcased the incredibly talented Karl Peters on bass and Adrian D'souza on drums. For 90 minutes, without the benefit of a perfect sound system, they held the attention of a Saturday night pub audience, most of whom are starved for good jazz played live. If you were not there, and have never heard him before, you missed something.
Now that I've got done with the raves, it's time for the rant.
First of all, SPE sucks for sound. Either they should spend a few more crores to install a proper sound system and repair the acoustics of that place, or they should rebuild SPE from scratch with the performance of live music uppermost in their mind. And 750 ml of beer for Rs 175? 60 bucks for a cola? That's highway robbery! Or is it capitalism at its finest?
Now we come to MC who deigned to grace the occasion as the international standard jazz pianist India has on offer. I mean, we are ever so grateful to the man for returning to the country of his origin and giving us a taste of his talents. Understandably, by being so gracious he must also be forgiven for being a bumptious dyspeptic. In a thin, reedy voice which he, to our extreme pleasure, did not employ for song, Madhav informed the audience in his opening announcement that we should all quieten down as this was not a rock concert, and he was going to play some serious stuff. That's like offering street food at a five star banquet and asking us to eat it with silver cutlery.
Hey dickhead! If this were a rock concert, would you be playing? And if you wanted concert hall ambience, why the hell did you agree to play in a pub? I do not like musicians treating listeners as if we were slimy things under a rock. And if your music is danceable, like the original composers intended it to be, then we will make some noise. Quite a bit of it, actually. In fact, from what I understand, jazz musicians fed off the raucous energy of their audience and their creativity thrived because of it. Madhav, if you wanted that sort of hush, you should have been playing Beethoven and Bach in a white tie at Carnegie Hall or somewhere appropriately elitist for you. Don't give us that crap, when you have the lighted signs of the whisky sponsors glowing behind you as a constant reminder of who gave us the opportunity to listen to your performance.
Karl and Adrian, equally talented musicians of India, never gave off that attitude. They have played far and wide in this country and they know what audiences are like. The standing Karl's ever-smiling face was always a pleasure to watch, and his occasional grimaces as his fingers did amazing things to the fretboard and five strings, guided my enjoyment of the music. I could see neither Adrian or Madhav, except for distorted reflections on the stained-glass ceiling, but Adrian kept the momentum intact as my tapping feet and swaying body confirmed.
I'd be happy to listen to Madhav Chari time and again and even pay good money for the shows, but hey arsehole, get off your high horse and come back to earth! Music is not your sole preserve, and needs to be shared. If you don't agree, go back to Busherica, or lock yourself up in your loo and wank off on the ivories.
At the outset, I must say the good things before I vent my anger. The Trio played wonderfully well. Hard Bop, with generous doses of Latin elements in a repertoire of covers always goes down well with an audience. Madhav, who gave up a future in mathematics in the USA to learn and play jazz, is a pianist who has studied the masters with enthusiasm, and this showed. Oscar Peterson is obviously a major influence. Madhav's arrangements ably showcased the incredibly talented Karl Peters on bass and Adrian D'souza on drums. For 90 minutes, without the benefit of a perfect sound system, they held the attention of a Saturday night pub audience, most of whom are starved for good jazz played live. If you were not there, and have never heard him before, you missed something.
Now that I've got done with the raves, it's time for the rant.
First of all, SPE sucks for sound. Either they should spend a few more crores to install a proper sound system and repair the acoustics of that place, or they should rebuild SPE from scratch with the performance of live music uppermost in their mind. And 750 ml of beer for Rs 175? 60 bucks for a cola? That's highway robbery! Or is it capitalism at its finest?
Now we come to MC who deigned to grace the occasion as the international standard jazz pianist India has on offer. I mean, we are ever so grateful to the man for returning to the country of his origin and giving us a taste of his talents. Understandably, by being so gracious he must also be forgiven for being a bumptious dyspeptic. In a thin, reedy voice which he, to our extreme pleasure, did not employ for song, Madhav informed the audience in his opening announcement that we should all quieten down as this was not a rock concert, and he was going to play some serious stuff. That's like offering street food at a five star banquet and asking us to eat it with silver cutlery.
Hey dickhead! If this were a rock concert, would you be playing? And if you wanted concert hall ambience, why the hell did you agree to play in a pub? I do not like musicians treating listeners as if we were slimy things under a rock. And if your music is danceable, like the original composers intended it to be, then we will make some noise. Quite a bit of it, actually. In fact, from what I understand, jazz musicians fed off the raucous energy of their audience and their creativity thrived because of it. Madhav, if you wanted that sort of hush, you should have been playing Beethoven and Bach in a white tie at Carnegie Hall or somewhere appropriately elitist for you. Don't give us that crap, when you have the lighted signs of the whisky sponsors glowing behind you as a constant reminder of who gave us the opportunity to listen to your performance.
Karl and Adrian, equally talented musicians of India, never gave off that attitude. They have played far and wide in this country and they know what audiences are like. The standing Karl's ever-smiling face was always a pleasure to watch, and his occasional grimaces as his fingers did amazing things to the fretboard and five strings, guided my enjoyment of the music. I could see neither Adrian or Madhav, except for distorted reflections on the stained-glass ceiling, but Adrian kept the momentum intact as my tapping feet and swaying body confirmed.
I'd be happy to listen to Madhav Chari time and again and even pay good money for the shows, but hey arsehole, get off your high horse and come back to earth! Music is not your sole preserve, and needs to be shared. If you don't agree, go back to Busherica, or lock yourself up in your loo and wank off on the ivories.
