A Rendezous With "The Last Supper"!

We have seen depictions of the well-known "The Last Supper" umpteen times in books, magazines, posters, and elsewhere. Numerous artists have painted the scene that portrays the last meal shared by Jesus with his apostles in Jerusalem before he was crucified. It has been one of the most popular visuals in Christian art, and several painters have brought it alive using different media. Leonardo da Vinci's mural painting done in the late 1490s remains the most well-known example to date. It is housed by the refectory of the Convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie in Milan.

Recently when visiting Milan, I find to my pleasant surprise that our hotel is almost next door to the convent. I walk to it the next morning. The dome at the back of the building in red brick is impressive. Restoration work is on in the front facade and on the side wall. There is a mild drizzle. Not enough to deter visitors from standing in the front square to appreciate the structure that houses a church and a convent. I enter the church. It is calm and beautiful. A portly priest is performing a ritual with a group of people. Dressed in flowing white robes, he is a picture of love and compassion. I spend some quiet moments observing the ongoing ceremony. When it is over, people seek not only blessings from the priest; but also a picture with him. He obliges smiling in a grandfatherly way.

After admiring the interiors of the church leisurely, I walk out. The drizzle has stopped now.
The celebrated mural is in a chamber and one needs to buy a ticket to enter. Groups of only 25-30 people are allowed entry every 15 minutes.

I decide to give it a try next day. The next morning is bright and sunny. I arrive at the convent all eager and hopeful. To my utter disappointment, the lady at the ticket counter informs me that they are sold out for the next few weeks. Having come so close to the treasure and not being allowed a dekko is surely disheartening. I ask her, not even one person? She must have been used to such queries from hundreds of agitated tourists. She asks me to come at "eight tomorrow morning" and try. If there is a cancellation, I stand a chance. I decide to try my luck. I am staying only next door, and reaching this place at eight is not difficult at all.

I walk out of the ticket office and rest at the short boundary wall surrounding the convent. The convent is painted in yellow and there is a small garden with lush green lawns and a few trees inside the compound. A tall, narrow, red-coloured banner is placed vertically at the entrance to the convent. It says "Cenacolo Vinciano" in white letters. I see people who have been fortunate enough to get a ticket taking their turns to enter. Some of them have come with their own guides. There is a group of Chinese tourists. One of them holds a print of the mural aloft while a guide instructs them with a pointer on the intricacies of the painting. This is to help them make the most of their brief rendezvous with the maestro's work. I admire their sincere and scholarly approach towards appreciating a masterpiece.

Photos by Lata

The square is mostly quiet, with people sitting on the the few benches along the border. There is a single makeshift stall selling souvenirs. Occasionally one hears the church bells toll. And trams rattling frequently along the adjoining street, Corso Magenta.

I leave hoping for a fruitful visit the next day! 

To be continued

Ciao Lake Como And Bellagio!

We set off for Como on a Trenord train from Cadorna station in Milan. It is a pleasant Sunday morning and the train leaves at its scheduled time. Buying the ticket at the station is quick and easy. The train is not full. And there is an unhurried, holiday feel to the trip in the partially occupied compartment. With brief stops at some small stations, the train reaches its destination about 50 minutes after leaving Cadorna. As we step on the platform, the sight of the lake just across the road from the station greets us.

In a couple of minutes, we are at the lake. It is a huge lake with several twists and turns, lined by mountains on the sides. Little villages lie scattered on the slopes all along the lake. Small boats bob on the lake while large boats are busy ferrying tourists to the villages. The lower parts of mountains are green while the upper parts are blue, and many cliffs are hidden behind the low-lying clouds; giving the landscape a dreamy, fairy tale look.

We spend some time taking in the beautiful sights and then walk towards the ticket booth for buying our tickets to go to Bellagio on a large boat. There is a longish queue but thankfully it is moving fast. We board the boat soon. It is comfortable, with seating on several levels. Some decks are covered, some are partially covered and some are open.

We settle down in a partially covered portion of the top deck. The boat is filled with enthusiastic tourists of all ages. This is a slow boat servicing villages along the route. As it starts moving on its way, we are treated to picture postcard scenes one after the other. Villages are dotted with pretty houses and fancy resorts. All of them have been painted in colour co-ordinated shades of yellow, beige, red and pink. There are no loud banners, ugly advertisement boards or any other eyesores anywhere in sight in any of the villages. All that one sees is beauty in abundance everywhere. The boat progresses winding its way along the curves of the lake as we feast on the amazing views unfolding in front of our eyes.

Mountain tops kissing the feathery clouds, refreshingly clean waters of the lake, villages with tiny eateries, narrow roads, cars, houses, people sitting on benches on the lake front...everything is picture perfect. There are some big lake-facing hotels and some very exclusive villas. I am told well-known Hollywood stars own villas in these villages.

The two-hour ride comes to an end too soon and we wish there was more. As we alight from the boat the lovely town of Bellagio welcomes us with its restaurants, boutiques, and small shops selling arty knick-knacks. There are stalls lined up along the lake front selling jewellery, bags, clothes; it is probably a Sunday Market. The balconies of restaurants and hotels are filled with colourful flowering plants. And the calming presence of the lake adds a sense of serenity to the ambience.

Photos by Lata

There are several staircases to go uphill in the town, flanked on both sides by eateries, and stores selling lingerie, clothes, shoes, bags, decorative items. It is a splendid setting and I see young women posing for pictures on the stairs. I am sure the pictures would make a style statement, considering Bellagio's proximity to the fashionable city of Milan. 

I indulge in window-shopping for some time without daring to look at any price tag! The views of the lake and of the mountains--some of them belonging to the Alps range--are of course invaluable. Later, when we board the boat for returning to Como, the strip of Bellagio starts receding in the distance. It is early evening, and cool winds across the decks prompt me to put on a jacket.

The boat moors at piers in the villages that come along our way. People alight and board. An enthusiastic group of Italian senior citizens is on board our boat.They start singing. We enjoy their music. There is no language barrier when it comes to music. Their energy is infectious. They laugh, joke, take pictures and sing. 

Soon we are back in Como and it is time to get off the boat. It has been a lovely day. No doubt, Nature has been very kind to this part of the world, but the human effort in keeping it clean and maintaining miles and miles of uninterrupted beauty is what makes this place special and irresistible for visitors.

Goodbye Bellagio!

Food For Thought!

Recently I got an opportunity to visit the Central Food Technological Research Institute (CFTRI) in Mysore. I was part of a group that was taken around the institute by some of its expert officers. It was a very interesting and enlightening tour. The institute is housed in a grand mansion. It was built by Maharaja Krishnaraja Wodeyar IV for the third princess of Mysore. As we approached the building, we were impressed with the sight of the imposing facade. The interiors are equally stately and well-maintained.

The institute is one of the 42 national research laboratories set up by the government under the Council of Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR). It develops technology and equipment that the food industry can use in making their products better in many ways. 

Photo by CSRI

Gone are the days when we used to buy pulses and grains from the neighbourhood grocer who would pack them in newspaper sheets before handing them to us. Today an array of processed, semi-processed and unprocessed food vies for our attention from attractively arranged shelves in supermarkets. Then there is the booming online market too. Advances in agriculture have meant better and more yield of crops and fresh produce. This has resulted in requirement of superior technology to preserve and package food in such a way that it can be transported to different parts of the country and the world, retaining as many nutrients as possible while ensuring its longer life at the same time. If this is not done, a lot of food will be wasted for want of proper preservation and distribution. So, some foods need to be packed in a certain way using certain types of materials, some foods need to be dehydrated, while some need to be frozen or roasted or pickled to save them from getting wasted. 

Photo by Lata

The experts at the institute explained to us what all the institute does to achieve its goals. They made it interesting and interactive so as to engage laypersons like us in the proceedings. We walked through a section of the institute where the walls are covered with informative posters filled with charts, pictures and numbers decribing various techniques in a simple way. It is done quite well and all of us appreciated it. Then looking at and looking through the scanning electron microscope was a unique experience. It produces greatly magnified images of objects in very high resolution. It was interesting to see images of the surface of a chapati and that of a puri through it.

They demonstrated the use of a dosa making machine and offered the tasty samples to us. They were really very good! This machine and a chapati making machine have been developed at the institute. They are suitable for use in temples, gurudwaras, canteens and hospitals where a large amount of food needs to be made efficiently and hygienically.

We saw many other things and learnt a whole lot which is not possible to reproduce here. I am grateful to all those who made this visit possible. It has made me realise how much thought goes into designing the size, shape, texture, packaging and storage of a food item that we casually pick up from a supermarket. If it has made life easy for us, we should be thankful to the farmers, scientists and food technologists who have worked towards it.

A Poorly Made "Bucket List"!

I did not watch the 2007 American film "The Bucket List" starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. But I remember reading somewhere that it was about two terminally ill men who embark on a road trip with a wish list of things to do before they kicked the bucket. It was a box office success.

Recently I watched the Marathi "Bucket List", a new release marking Madhuri Dixit's entry into the world of Marathi films. When a star like Madhuri lends her name to a project, it is bound to arouse interest, and get people to engage with the project with heightened expectations. I am no exception and I went to watch the film anticipating a scintillating performance by her.

Madhuri plays an upper-middle class homemaker in her early forties who lives in a beautiful house in Pune with her husband, two children, parents-in-law and grandmother-in-law. She gets a new lease of life after a heart transplant surgery. When she finds out that the donor was a 21-year old young woman, she sets out to fulfil the wishes that are neatly jotted down in the deceased woman's bucket list. In this process she discovers herself, who was hidden under the persona of a wife, a mother and a daughter-in-law for all these years.

Fair enough. This could have been a good film, one of her several attempts to return to the big screen, and her stepping stone to a career in her mother tongue. She was playing a character that suited her age. She could have been instrumental in giving out a positive message about organ donation. In addition, she had a supporting cast featuring prominent names from the Marathi theatre and film industry. In spite of all this, the film just did not work for me.

Madhuri never looked convincing as a homemaker. She looked too poised with perfect hair and makeup to essay the role of someone who was cooking vegetables in four different ways to please everyone in the family, assisting her mother-in-law in her paapad-making enterprise, and in general being an ideal wife, mother and daughter-in-law around the house. Her Marathi sounded stunted, not having the ease of someone using the language for everyday conversation. Her super slim frame made her look more like a model than a homemaker with a comfortable lifestyle. And come on, which upper-middle class household has paapads being rolled in their living room with a bunch of women helping the lady of the house?

I wonder if Madhuri was inspired by Sridevi while playing a Maharashtrian homemaker. Sridevi played the role with ease in "English Vinglish".  Unfortunately Madhuri could not deliver. And her effort to emulate the late actress in comedy turned out to be a complete fiasco. Her antics in the pub's kitchen are neither amusing nor entertaining.

The direction (Tejas Vijay Deoskar) and dialogue (Tejas Vijay Deoskar and Devashree Shivadekar) are very ordinary. When the husband asks Madhuri's character where does he feature in her bucket list, she replies: you are not in my bucket list, you are my bucket! Excuse me, does this make any sense? There is nothing to write home about the dialogue. The characters drag the names of sponsors in their conversation in a jarring way.

The saving grace in the film is the presence of Sumit Raghavan, Vandana Gupte, Pradeep Welankar, Ila Bhate, and Dilip Prabhavalkar. They are seasoned actors and do not seem to be overwhelmed by Madhuri's star value. Sumit Raghavan holds his own as her husband. He could have done much better if his character was more well-defined. Madhuri's "Hum Aapke Hain Koun" co-star Renuka Shahane delivers a lacklustre performance as the dead woman's mother. Shubha Khote's role as the grandmother-in-law and her portrayal are both unrealistic and flawed. In fact, none of the characters is written well.

It is saddening to see Madhuri who ruled the silver screen for decades, making an appearance so listlessly in a production so unworthy of her presence. Even the dance sequence in the end lacked her magic touch. Perhaps it is time to wait for a better project and a better production team? Until then, let the memories of Madhuri in her heydays remain in our hearts!

More Snapshots From London!

I had the opportunity to live in Central London for a few weeks between mid-April and mid-May this year. Barring the first few days, the weather was generally great to go out and soak in the sights, sounds and smells of the city. The sprawling parks had just begun to look lovely with fresh green leaves on the tall trees and unending stretches of luxurious lawns spread across the length and breadth of their expanse. With the fabulous public transport, it was wonderful to experience London this spring. Here are some pictures to tell the story:

The shops were filled with merchandise related to the royal wedding weeks before the event. Shelves were overflowing with bells, boxes, decorative plates, mugs and masks displaying images of the handsome royal couple. Breakfast shows on the telly (that was the only time I watched it for a little while) couldn't stop discussing the forthcoming extravaganza. The British do adore and love their royals a lot! Pictures from Oxford Street.

And this one from a shopping centre in Surrey Quays! Parents were busy getting masks for their children a few days before the royal wedding.

St. Paul's Cathedral is imposing, and in spite of being located in a busy urban area, it manages to offer a good amount of space for citizens to take a break, or catch some sun on a nice day, or sit amidst the flowers and greenery while having a quick bite on a busy work day. At the St. Paul's Cathedral.

The telephone booth is one of several icons of London. This particular one at the St. Paul's Cathedral serves as a backdrop for many newly-weds when they pose in their wedding finery. With the Cathedral at one end and the Tate Modern at the other end, and the Millennium Bridge joining them; this area is very charming.

It is hard to imagine the streets of London without the sleek red buses winding their way through them. Some of them display "Incredible India" advertisements with images of popular tourist destinations in India. This particular one with the Golden Temple in Amritsar.

This beautiful water fountain caught my attention while walking in a park. When I went close and read the inscription, I found that it had an India connect (not surprising or unusual in London). But just that I was amused to find it when I was least expecting it. At the Regent's Park.

This stunningly beautiful piece of fabric attracted me with its radiant colours and rich tapestry. To my surprise, I found that it was possibly from Burhanpur in central India. It was used as a panel while making tents for the royals while travelling. At the Victoria & Albert Museum.

This is an ubiquitous item in our kitchens. A round stainless steel box containing several small containers for different spices. Looks like it has caught the fancy of shoppers in London! At the Borough Market.

Surprised to find signboards written in Gurmukhi in London? Well, it is Southall, the mini-Punjab in the city. With gurudwaras, turbaned mechanics at work in an automobile garage, Indian eateries, Punjabi matrons wearing salwar suits visiting the local market, and huge stores selling Indian groceries and vegetables; it gets as Punjabi as it can.

It was as if this peacock was trained to entertain visitors. It gave a long enough performance for everyone to shoot videos and take pictures to their hearts' content, its magnificent plumage spread like a huge fan against the green foliage of the garden. At the Holland Park.

Photos by Lata

This picture symbolises spring and summer in a London park, fresh, tranquil and beautiful! At the Regent's Park.

My previous post on the same lines is here.

A Portrait Of My Father!

It is not easy to write on people who are close to you. They could be your family or friends, but penning a sketch is equally difficult. I have been mulling over the thought of writing on my father for the past few months, but never quite got around to doing it. Finally, gathered some courage to attempt it today.

My father, Baba as we call him, defies stereotypes in many ways. In his eighties. he is as techno-savvy as can be. Ever willing to learn and adapt to new stuff, he uses modern gadgets and devices with ease. He is enthusiastic and doesn't shy away from asking help from his grandchildren whether they are with him or away. He communicates with them with ease on social media and keeps himself updated with the newest trends.

He worked in the textile industry and later in the industrial chemicals business. His work took him to Iran for four long years, away from his family and away from his young children. More than four decades ago, Iran seemed to be a distant place. Communication was not easy, modest aerogrammes being the only mode of keeping in touch. The thin blue letter would take a couple of weeks to reach us, and it used to be the most awaited item from the postman's bag.

Brought up in a traditional vegetarian household by his parents, he made the necessary changes in his diet while living in a remote textile town in Iran, eating the bland, unfamiliar food day in and day out without complaining. Even now he is quite adventurous in trying out new foods, unlike some of us who have reservations about experimenting with different cuisines. The town offered hardly any recreation, and spending weekends used to be a torture. He occupied himself with reading, swimming and listening to music.

Talking of music, he is a trained violinist in the Hindustani style. He used to perform regularly on the All India Radio before going to Iran.The fact that he pursued this interest without having any musical background in the family makes it more creditable. He was a part of the regular music circle in the city and I remember informal recitals taking place in our living room, with music lovers enjoying the offerings by fellow musicians followed by cups of coffee brought out by my mother from the kitchen.

Baba took driving lessons at a very young age and drove his father's Austin regularly with ease. Much later, he got his own Ambassador and then a Fiat. He does not drive anymore, but was an expert driver who understood the working of a car almost as well as a mechanic does. He loved his cars, took good care of them and was always ready to take friends and family where they wished to go in his car. When we used to arrive from Delhi to Indore by train, he would be waiting at the platform in the hot summer afternoon, his car parked outside, eager to take us home.

These days, taking pictures has become very easy. Anybody who has a reasonably good mobile phone takes pictures. Baba was a proud owner of a Minolta and took great pictures. I remember seeing wonderful slides from my parents' Europe trip projected on our living room wall using a slide projector. An early black and white masterpiece from him featured me as a little girl enacting the three monkeys of Gandhiji in a single frame!

Another of Baba's remarkable interests is his expertise in fixing things. Be it an electrical or a mechanical appliance, if it is not working well, he would open it up and tinker with it until it got back into shape. Acquaintances, friends and relatives would often leave their damaged radios, tape recorders, mixers or toasters with him and he would bring them back to life again. Now when everything is disposable, this skill is on its way to becoming obsolete, but still comes in handy while using several household items like a water purifier, a telephone instrument or a water pump.

Baba is blessed with a large circle of close friends. They have known one another for decades and share a great bond. In spite of some age-related issues, he maintains a cheerful disposition, keeping himself occupied with a regular exercise routine in the morning, followed by breakfast, bath and offering pooja to family deities at home. He enjoys going to a play or a concert in the city, though of late his movement is a bit restricted. Well-wishers and friends routinely drop by at home and he loves catching up with them.

He can keep up with present day life and can easily relate to people much younger than him in age. This is possible because he has not allowed himself to "feel" old. It is easier said than done. A big round of applause to him for that!

Face To Face With Kathakali At Kalakshetra!

The beats of the maddalam and the chenda can be heard from a distance. They mean that a Kathakali performance is about to begin. The drummers (not seen in the accompanying picture) are standing in the portico of the beautiful Rukmini Arangam at the Kalakshetra in Chennai. 

Photo by Lata

Now, watching Kathakali is a multi-layered experience. You have to decide whether to be completely taken in by the elaborate make up and colourful costumes of the actors, or to listen to the wonderful verses in Manipravalam (a mix of Malayalam and Sanskrit), or be mesmerised by the energetic accompanying music, or to pay attention to the exquisite hand gestures, or to follow the movement of eyes and facial muscles of the artiste, or to absorb and appreciate the spectacle in its entirety. 

For people used to watching other dance forms, it may take a while to appreciate Kathakali. But once you get past the initial awe, and overcome the unfamiliarity; Kathakali opens up to you and embraces you in its majestic grandeur and subtle nuances. And when you realise how rigorous and demanding the training that the artistes undergo is, you simply bow to them with reverence.

Kathakali (literally meaning story play) is drama, dance, storytelling, folk art, and mime all rolled into one. Ideally the training should start when one is in early teens. There are excellent residential schools in Kerala imparting lessons. In fact the initial training to get one's body adapted to this dance form is very similar to what students of kalaripayattu (traditional martial art from Kerala) go through. The aspirants work hard for years to get complete control over their bodies including eyes and facial muscles. And then they have to learn to be comfortable in the make up, costume and jewellery all of which weighs several kilos if put together.

I watched some videos to get an idea about the process of wearing make up, costumes and jewellery for Kathakali. And the two words that came to my mind on watching those were: patience and surrender. An actor must have these qualities in abundance to be a good practitioner of this art. It takes between three and five hours to get ready, with the actor lying down flat on the floor to get his or her face painted by an expert. There is a prescribed colour code, and colours are used according to the character being played.  All the ingredients are natural and the coloured pastes are prepared freshly before the performance. Then putting the costume and jewellery on oneself is again an arduous task. The striking face paints, the bold headgear, the exaggerated eye make up, the curved extensions stuck from the chin to either side on the jawbones, the shiny discs that hide the ears, the ornaments around the neck and on the arms, the umbrella-shaped skirt held aloft by layers of pleated strips of cloth tied around the waist with a rope, the metallic nail extensions making fingers of the left hand look longer, waist-length hair extensions, the pleated pieces of cloth worn around the neck with their knotted ends dangling in front, and the red eyes make for a larger-than-life image of a character. I found that actors insert a part of a particular flower in their eyes to make them red. The reason? Else the eyes would look pale compared to other bright colours on the face.

Now the artiste is all set and ready for the act. Almost all the Kathakali stories are derived from mythological texts, so the plays are often long and go on for several hours. The stage is mostly bare other than the mandatory kalavilakku (oil lamp) placed in the front. The major characters usually enter the stage from behind a curtain held by two men. They pay their respects to the drums, drummers and singers before starting their performance. And then the story unfolds to the tune of the songs, the clang of the cymbals, the beat of the drums and the precise gestures and movements of the player. The dedication and devotion of all the performers is amazing. The actors bear the weight of their costume and accessories, while the drummers bear the weight of their drums, for hours and in a standing position. They bring alive a delicate romantic scene and a ferocious war scene with equal ease, the drumbeats reaching a deafening level during depictions of combat.

Kathakali was an all-male domain until some time ago. Female characters were also enacted by men. Now with women entering the world of Kathakali, the scene is slowly changing. 

Photo by Lata

It is always a pleasure to watch a Kathakali performance at Kalakshetra. Kathakali is traditionally performed in the open air, so the open and informal theatre suits it completely. The totally natural ambience, the lovely students in traditional sarees and veshtis, the fragrance of sambrani, the kolams, the floral decorations, the oil lamps, the picture of Rukmini Devi Arundale standing gracefully,  and the image of Nataraja all add up to make the experience magical and memorable. The five-day Kathakali festival which concluded last week was a perfect way to inaugurate the recently renovated performance space--Rukmini Arangam. Thank you Kalakshetra and Guru Sadanam Balakrishnan for putting together this fabulous treat!

Read my previous post on Kathakali here.