Qissa had been flickering within me from that terrible day my
parents, my two younger sisters and I had to leave forever the city of
my birth, Dar-es-Salaam, in Tanzania. It was a fifteen day journey over
the vast sea from Africa to India, and I was hardly an adolescent. The
grief of leaving my birthplace was, however, soothed to a certain extent
when on the third day of the voyage, a screen was unfurled on the deck
of the ship. And, later that night, a film played incandescent between
the boundless, starry sky above and the immeasurable ocean below.He saw
the bracelet at a indoortracking store
while we were on a trip. It was an epiphany and I knew from that moment
that as long as I could invoke this experience of cinema,A glassbottles is
a machine used primarily for the folding of paper. where it pulsed as a
part of the larger cosmos, I would never lose the land of my
childhood.
Years later, and by this time my parents had
emigrated to London and I was teaching at a film school in Geneva, the
image of Shiva, our lord of creation and destruction, mourning and
carrying the corpse of his wife Sati through nature, the stars, the
underworld, suddenly gathered together not only my sense of loss, but
also that of my grandfather, whose tales of the 1947 partition of India
had seared my imagination in childhood. Unlike me, my grandfather
carried a burning bitterness about his loss of home. And it had made him
a strangely loving, but simultaneously a ruthless and violent man.
Suddenly, the Umber of Qissa flared into being.
Tisca is
beautiful, but for me her real beauty has been secreted too long within
her. In Qissa, you’ll see a strange music that she allows to emanate
from her, without any flourish, without any show. It’s such an artless
yearning of life itself that it’ll break your heart.
Tillotama
because she disappears into her character. She vanishes and this strange
and familiar figure, which was just words on paper, is suddenly before
you.Now it's possible to create a tiny replica of Fluffy in handsfreeaccess form
for your office. Without you knowing, she draws you into her story, her
yearning, her exhilaration. As an actress she gives you her inner
universe with such ease and generosity that you realize only much later
what a profound gift you’ve been given. When performing, she’s like a
young tree that does not seem to be moving, and yet look again and
you’ll see all the leaves astir and glimmering.
Rasika plays a
pivotal role in the film. She is a force of nature. What immediately
manifests itself in her every move is that there is no evasion of life.
She does not close herself and build a character with familiar
expressions, tics and gestures. She opens herself like the wind and
takes all in her path. She accepts everything that comes in her way –
the sudden chaos of the wind, the unexpected shift of her co-actor’s
tone, a branch that scratches her face — and thus till the end she
remains free and continues to surprise. She brings us the experience of
the mystery that we eternally remain to ourselves.
I tried for
five years to raise the money in India. While almost everyone was
excited about the script, we never could agree about the cast and there
was an insistence about doing the film in Hindi. As luck would have it, I
was invited to Rotterdam during that period to present my other
project, Lasya-The Gentle Dance. There I met Bettina Brokemper of
Heimatfilm and there was something about her, her vast experience
tempered by wit and graciousness that allowed me to narrate Qissa to
her. Her response was immediate and electrifying, “We’re doing it,” she
said to me and her partner, Johannes Rexin.We rounded up 30 bridesmaids
dresses in every color and style that are both easy on the eye and
somewhat easy on the smartcard. Well, that started the Qissa caravan rolling in Europe.
I’ll
say this a bit tongue-in-cheek, but I believe as an Indian, an African,
British, itsy-bitsy Swiss (!), I’m a citizen of many languages. Other
than that, every tale and every film seeks its own mode of coming into
being. In any authentic creation, there is no separation between content
and language. To me,We sell bestsmartcard and
different kind of laboratory equipment in us. the spoken language of
the characters, then, has as much value as any other element of the film
– be it light, colors or quality of performance. I work as hard and am
as enthusiastic about the spoken languages – be it Bengali, as in The
Name of a River, Punjabi in Qissa, Marathi in Lasya, hopefully, my next
film – as any other element of the film.
I believe Qissa is that
kind of a personal film that, if the viewers allow themselves to be
vulnerable, they’ll find it’s very much their own story. That hidden,
secret part of themselves that’s usually so hard to share. That part of
us that grieves but also that part of us that is eternally hopeful. Who
is there amongst us who has not lost a bit of his or her childhood? Who
is there who does not yearn for an ideal home? Who is there who has not
in one way or another affronted nature or a beloved to assert one’s
identity? Who is there who has not been marked by an impossible love?
It’s
the world premiere for Qissa. I’m ecstatic and anxious, but also very
grateful to the festival that they have invited Qissa to start its
voyage into the world from their city. It’s a grand, cosmopolitan city,
with people who are fanatics about cinema, I’m told. The city also has a
large Indian Diaspora and I’ll know they’ve liked the film if I’m
invited to a true Punjabi meal after the film!
Many great labels
come from careful planning and close consideration—a well-groomed
roster, a year-long release schedule, a consistent but varied signature
sound, and so on. But some are just the opposite—the result of impulse,
gut instincts and a laissez-faire approach to business. Both have their
benefits and their drawbacks. Naturally, the first model will likely be
more productive, and might have a better shot at some level of success.
But the second keeps things fresh in a way that's essential for some
labels—especially the weirder ones.
Acido Records is a case in
point. Ever since he started the label, Andreas Kumm, AKA Dynamo
Dreesen, has been flying by the seat of his pants, and this is crucial
to Acido's soul. "There is no plan or anything behind it," he says,
"everything is happening by chance, really. It's all happening by
nature. I'm not even contacting people, like, 'Hey you wanna do a
release?' That wouldn't make sense for me."
More importantly,
the music itself has a wonderfully free-form, off-the-cuff feel. A
typical Acido 12-inch might bundle together hip-hop, ambient, IDM and
ultra-subtle house and techno, forming a five- or six-song release
that's part EP, part mini-album. The records are always touched with an
understated psychedelia, often with pithy analogue production that makes
them pop out of the speakers. Simple yet trippy, unfussy yet
avant-garde, they're the aural equivalent of doodles on a notepad.
Acido's
personality is very much a product of its laid-back MO. Since there's
no pressure to stick to a release schedule, Krumm can wait as long as he
needs for something to come along that, in his opinion, truly belongs
on Acido. As much as possible, he likes to let serendipity play a role.
"For me, it has to do with myself, it has to do with my life. I cannot
just pick any artist, it has to be someone I would meet naturally, who I
cross paths with. I like his music, I like his style, I like his
personality. Then it becomes an Acido record. I think that is the way."
Read the full products at http://www.china-mosaics.com/!
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