Song and Dance
The Season of Music ended on January 1, and then came the Season of Dance. The Man from Madras Musings, very much a music buff, usually gives the dance performances a wide berth but not so this year. His good lady, also known as She Who Must Be Obeyed, has a great fascination for matters terpsichorean and decreed that she would be in attendance, MMM in tow. And so MMM toed the line. And he enjoyed it all.
And as he tried to keep time and at the same time follow all the leaps, prances, pirouettes and glances, he also managed to take a good look at fellow members of the audience. And it gave him considerable food for thought. As MMM tagged behind his good lady, he could not help reflecting on how the audiences for music and dance seem to be from two entirely different worlds.
To begin with, the music audience seems to be wholly comprising those east and south of Gemini circle. These people are essentially on the wrong side of fifty, with a brooding air of having heard better music in the past. They also have their mobility and bladder issues judging by the number of comfort breaks they take before, during and after performances. They are clueless about cell phone etiquette, mostly having them on volume. When the phone rings, they either get all flustered about silencing it or are quite blasé about answering it and speaking loudly even as the concert progresses. They love the canteen, feasting on what is on offer, possessing no doubt digestions of cast iron. In attire they are traditional – the men bordering on the fastidiously neat to the shabby, and the women bringing in old world charm. MMM must also add here that this audience is the salt of the earth as far as the music world is concerned, for it is this group that keeps the art alive, such as it is.
Contrast this with the dance audience, which seems essentially from an alien world, by which MMM means to the west of Gemini and from those new localities that MMM has always meant to getting around to visiting one day. This group is largely of those on the right side of thirty and texting is their way of communicating. It would be infra dig to be seen making calls or receiving them. They live mainly on social media and as for the canteen, they would flock to it only if it had bubble tea, decaf or black coffee. When it comes to dress, haute couture or dernier cri would be the mot juste, though MMM has to admit that seen from the rear it is very difficult for him to identify the preferred pronouns of those in attendance. This group is never seen again in the vicinity of Sabha-s until the next dance season that is and MMM assumes they seek other forms of entertainment when dance is not on offer.
The modes of address too vary. To the music world everyone is a saar or a madam or at worst a dei. But in the dance world everyone is an anna or an akka. MMM who is at the age where thatha would be the preferred mode of address, rather likes being called anna. And as for the speed at which the dance lovers move – deer could take their lessons from them. Music audiences saunter and after a heavy go at the canteen seem to slow down to a crawl. And when they do, they, like king Claudius, demand light in darkened Sabha interiors. Their age calls for it. The dance audience makes do with their cell phone torch.
MMM hopes to expand on this topic after attending a few more years of dance. He takes leave of this season with the above thoughts.
Short Term Memory Loss
It was one of those nice December afternoons that Chennai that was Madras seems to be having fewer of in recent times. The Man from Madras Musings had just nodded off when his phone buzzed. MMM answered it, and this is what ensued –
Voice – Is that the historian MMM?
MMM – Yes. Who is it please?
V – I am calling from TV Channel so and so and we would like your sound byte.
MMM – What about?
V – Hanh? Hmmm…Er…To be sure yes, What about…good one sir Ha ha, er… hmmm….
MMM decided that this had better be cut short for it was all eating into his precious forty winks time. And so he repeated his question.
V – Sir, let me get back to you.
MMM was left wondering as to why the person had even called. MMM flattered himself by assuming that the caller had called on a whim and an overwhelming desire to hear MMM’s voice. A sobering thought then came that this was probably one of a series of calls the person had to make and other recipients of such calls perhaps get so excited at a sound byte request that they rarely ask as to what it is all about. In fact MMM is reasonably sure that most people interviewed by channels rarely ever know what they are talking about.
The caller, to give him credit, was soon back. It was regarding an announcement by the Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu that a reward of one million US dollars would be given to anyone who deciphered the Indus Valley script. The caller wanted MMM’s view. MMM said he had none. There was a stunned silence.
V – Why sir?
MMM – Why do I need to have a view?
V – But sir, this concerns history. What is your take on Indus Valley?
MMM – I know nothing about it.
V – But sir you are a historian, you should know.
MMM hung up. He thought it would be too much of a waste of time to explain that there are areas of specialisation in history and someone who speaks on city history need not know anything about Indus Valley. And that there is nothing wrong in admitting to ignorance. In this MMM knows he differs markedly from some commentators who hold forth on just about everything on TV channels and social media.