Tuesday, November 15, 2011
The stage is deserted except for a few discarded instruments which mysteriously fade into the background. A film (aren’t we here to see a music concert?), that’s set on board a flight bound for London Gatwick airport, appears on a projected screen and is over-layed with speech spoken by an Indian man. We, or rather I, later discover that the man is, or rather was, Rabindranath Tagore, the acclaimed Bengali poet. As the film ends, rays of blue and red light brighten up the former solemn, shadow-filled stage to reveal two tall dark (and rather handsome) strangers, the Datta brothers – Soumik on sarod and Souvid on tabla. Soumik Datta trained with the legendary sarod maestro Pt. Buddhadev Das Gupta, studied Western Composition at Trinity College of Music and has collaborated with Nitin Sawnhey, Akram Khan – even Beyoncé and Jay-Z – and, in 2012, he will perform with Pandit Ravi Shankar. Quite an impressive CV.
Datta takes to his sarod with an alap that gently unravels like a reel of cotton but then snags – becoming vigorous with twists and turns, fleeting passing notes and abrupt pauses – fluidity is broken. He keeps us on our toes with abrupt changes in tempo and dynamics that challenge our viewing/listening, we keenly anticipate Datta’s next move. He’s at great ease on stage both with the audience whom he casually chats to, and his band (he enlists the help of ‘fusion’ guitarist Guiliano Modarelli and soulful singer Rahel Debebe- Dessalegne and of course, Souvid). There’s camaraderie a-plenty and a profound artistic understanding between them. Datta has tremendous honesty and passion for his art.
Film recurs throughout the set, this time with ever-prominent images of war and protest. A montage of YouTube clips, diagrams, maps and breaking news headlines document scenes of bloodshed from the Arab Spring, mass crowds of police in high-vis. vests during the summer’s London riots, even hap-hazard, ego-fuelled fighting from the Call of Duty video game. Suddenly, I become completely taken a-back by the scenes displayed before my eyes. The brutality and severity of war resounds throughout the world, especially during these uncertain times, but through film, music, art Datta commands an ever-more real grasp of the scale of it all. An incredibly powerful and deeply moving moment.
Tension is broken with an upbeat track that is playful in its use of improvisation and soulful in its melody and timbre. The group push the tala, or cycle, to daring heights expanding the phrasing, suspending the sum in mid air, it seems. Tracks are interjected with film, yes, but also with short interludes of role-play. Datta becomes Tagore with the careful unbuttoning of his salwar kameez, a timely rolling up of the sleeves. This is where the young musician is clever. He not only utilises Tagore’s text but he adds a modern twist, allowing it to inspire his own text, his own speech.
Towards the end, we are treated to a preview of Circle of Sound, a collaborative project between Datta and Austrian-born virtuosic percussionist, Bernhard Schimpelsberger, which is set to tour across the UK, Europe and Asia in 2012. The pair convene in a dynamic display of sawaal-javaab or, call and response, from Datta’s sarod to Schimpelsberger’s Cajon, human beat-box, rapped parhant and just about everything in between, as layer upon layer of sound is meshed together with the timely tap of an FX pedal. Together they feed off each other’s energy to fire up the crowd; their sound is impulsive, instinctive, infectious – an electrifying climax.
Borderland is a well-rehearsed, well-devised set in a well-matched venue, Rich Mix, which gives just the right kind of ambiance for a gig like this. FYI Datta will be their artist in residence next year, no doubt an exciting partnership will unfold and help shape his artistic journey. As for rasa, well there were moments of sheer thrill and excitement, goosebumps on my arms from hauntingly beautiful lines of the raag and, at one point, I was even reduced to tears. To experience such emotive highs and lows, that, for me, was rasa. I eagerly await Soumik Datta’s future work.
Lucinda Al-Zoghbi
Photo: Simon Richardson