Teaching, artists and art CEAD
Teaching, artists and art
Another day, another class. I was really happy to see the work that the students brought. They had storyboarded scenes. Each one presented their work, and I helped them with suggestions on how to play with various elements to push their work even further. It was great to hear some of the students chime in with suggestions as well. Teaching is exhausting work if you’re doing it right. I can see the hunger in most of these students to learn and try and do something. Many come from relatively far distances to study there. Most of the class consists of young women. It’s fun to see the excitement and fun nature of their personalities come out as they discuss their ideas and share their drawings.I try to help them create some more variety in their shots. It is challenging to draw things from various angles, and I have been helping them to break down things into simple shapes that are easier to draw from different views. I want to these kids to feel confident and strong in their art. They have ideas, and I don’t want to see them become jaded over time. It’s not really in my hands, but I do what I can to give my best. Nothing would make me happier than for these students to bring their imaginations to life.Later in the day, I visited my friend Shahid from CEAD, which is an art and design college here in Jamshoro. I worked with some students there when I first came out here to record music for my short film “Gul”. Now those students are teaching, having worked at several kinds of jobs and developed their skills. More phone calls were made, and no puppeteers were found in Sindh.
I visited Shaukat at his office at CEAD and got to enjoy several of his paintings and some really good videos of his more conceptual pieces he created at NCA. There is a lot of horrible stuff going on in Pakistan, but the painting scene here is very rich in skill. I can’t wait to see some of that self expression spill into the animation scene and find its way into more of the independent film scene as well. I wish I knew how to sell art. The campus is interesting and has expanded quite a bit since I was here in 2008. I took some photos of the cool sculptures in the courtyard. I hope these pieces will rotate out more often than the ones at NCA.
Thoughts and late night at the University
Thoughts and late night at the University
So many people here have reached out to their contacts in parts of Sindh, bordering Rajasthan to help me in my search for puppeteers, but thus far, all signs point to Punjab. There used to be puppeteers here, but like so much, this place seems to be decaying and dying. Honestly, I have a hard time with the deep levels of helplessness and despair I see in the disintegration of safety, culture and at times it seems humanity all around. I see bits of hope in the efforts of people around me to create institutions that support communities and bring better prospects to students. However, these efforts seem to be dwarfed by the rapid decline of seemingly everything around us. My students don’t seem to be crushed by that sense of helplessness. They know just this reality that they are in, and are working towards a better future in their lives.It’s very depressing that so many puppeteers have gone to unskilled types of work, like selling vegetables or eggs to sustain themselves, and have thus stopped passing down their art and essentially disappeared from contact. Things never go as planned on any of the projects I have created in Pakistan. They have thus far worked out, thanks to the help of many people, but not once have things gone as planned despite my best efforts to plan and prepare. There are always points where I question why I was foolish enough to try something so seemingly out of reach. Yet I know that when I find the right people, the humility and skill I get to work with here makes me quickly forget the pain of endless weeks of fruitless searches.
In the US, I watch the decline of my livelihood in animation and the depressing work conditions that only worsen. Here, I see a lot of untapped resources that are very challenging to reach. There are so many apathetic and ingenuine people that have contributed to this mess, that it takes every bit of my mind to keep inching forward, and working towards realizing the vision for “Risalo”. If I did not feel as strongly as I do about the source material and the value of the art I wish to incorporate, I would never have gone to such lengths to be here.
The photos are from a late night at the Sindh University Arts Department. My faculty friends were printing some brochure pages for a thesis show that is being put together with a great deal of care and effort. This work was being done late at night after busy days of administration and teaching. I’m a little lost, not knowing where I am going at times as most people are speaking Sindhi to each other. Efforts are certainly being made to help me with this project. I could use a few more positive results soon. Let’s hope we can find some puppeteers in Sindh before they vanish.
Hyderabad, Sindh
Hyderabad, Sindh book hunting
Today I decided to head into Hyderabad, which is the nearest big city. I had my usual anda paratha breakfast with chai, then head out to the “phaatak” via rickshaw, from where I hopped on a bus to get into town. It’s interesting to see the neighborhoods, huts and river along the way. There are fishermen in brightly painted boats on the river, just as Shah Latif described in his poetry, the the dam stops the flow of water flowing south, creating puddled stretches of land.I sought out a few places to try and pick up a book and CD set. Traffic is seriously nuts. I mean…there is no right way on these streets. I feel like it has only become worse. People push their way through with their vehicles form all directions, unwilling and really unable due to driving styles here, to let anyone pass. I think that way of thinking exemplifies a lot of the issues here today. Everyone needs to get their inch and they don’t care who they trample to get that momentary benefit, while burning any possible long term gains. This is interesting, because in basic interactions, many people are incredibly kind, but in official settings it is a ruthless place.
I went to a few bookstores without any luck in finding what I was looking for. The music CDs I was looking for were also not available. In figuring that out, I went to a bunch of different places, switching rickshaws to go to Gul Center, the Press Club, Hyder Chowk and the museum. The museum, while run down, had amazing displays showcasing traditional instruments and crafts as well as scenes of different types of artisans at work.
It was a fairly tiring trip. On the way back, I hopped on the outside of a bus to get back to the phaatak. It took a while before enough passengers got off at stops before I could get inside, but it was ok. I got off just past the phaatak and took a chingchi (these are motorcycles lobotomized with a carriage in the back) to the Adabi (literary) Board of Sindh. It was closed. My friend Mangi sahib came and picked me up with his son. We went back to his place, and I was able to check some email etc, hold his third child for a bit and chat. I enjoyed another delicious meal at his home (I’m going to gain some weight on this trip). Afterwards, we dropped by my room. Najeeb sahib joined us with his adorable little daughter and we went to hang out. We enjoyed some snacks at a sort of family club, then head over to hunt for books. They are so kind, that we went around to several bookstores, just to try and find this book. Mangi sahib also called a few friends, and eventually we found a place that has an Urdu translation I was looking for while driving back via a phone contact. We’ll visit that place another day. On the way back I was once again treated to delicious snacks. This time it was kulfi faluda in a cool little clay boat. Even during all of this time we spent together, I would pick up enough of Sindhi conversations that my friends would have over the phone while I was hanging out with them to know that they are calling all kinds of folks to help me find puppeteers in Sindh.
I’m basically making my way north, looking for puppeteers. It is a dying art form, particularly here in Pakistan, with only a handful of practitioners left. I’m trying to find them, with the best people to help me do it. Mangi and Najeeb sahib dropped by my room once again at night. This time I gave Mangi sahib a proper presentation of the animatic for “Risalo” and the thoughts that go with it. He started looking at the introductory pages of the book I have been basing this work on and found names that he knows. Now that he, Najeeb and Ustad Amb Jogi have a clear idea of the project, they will be able to add from their wealth of knowledge and contacts who have much more deep understandings of the material and the music I am attempting to compile in this film.
Teaching at Sindh University
Due to some technical difficulties on my end, I was not able to screen my short film “Gul” during the first workshop session. We had an in depth discussion on the creative process, from the seed of an idea, to visual development, reference gathering and concept refinement and execution. I had spoken about my work for companies, and answered questions on the division of tasks at companies, as well as differences between character animation for gaming and films.
After the usual, and delicious anda paratha (egg and paratha) breakfast at the hostel, I head to the campus. I setup my things and we began our second session with a screening of “Gul” It was fun to show the students how I had recorded music right here in Jamshoro, using Sindhi culture, in a piece that travelled the world. We had a fun discussion on their interpretations of the film. I was very glad to hear the confidence and insights that several students shared. We continued with small presentations by each student, regarding their assignment, which was to create a drawing of a character on the basis of 5 reference images of a feeling and 5 images of a culture or time period. The idea is to share a process by which these students can bring an influx of fresh ideas to any project they work on.
Even the self proclaimed shy students did a great job of sharing their sketches and ideas. Some had several designs, some just one. A few had no reference images, while others had many. Through the discussion, each student was able to understand the value of this process. I emphasized the value of their thoughts and ideas, and the validity of their interpretations.The session would have been 2 hours, but the students were so eager and hungry for learning, that we decided to extend the sessions. We went over how to breakdown and simplify our character designs, and then draw them from the side and in a 3/4 view based on that. It was really fun to see students first struggle and then grasp these concepts and apply them in their work.
I love to see the excitement in their eyes, and a genuine desire to express something in their work. With the right dedication, they can do great things. That of course is the real challenge. I always give everything I can to these workshops and end up pretty tired by the end of each session. Mangi sahib picked me up afterwards, and brought me back to the hostel. There was a program going on at Sindhology, regarding climate change. The hostel staff had prepared an amazing feast for delegates. I joined them, at least for food, then we went to Sindhology. I saw some good entries for the painting contest on climate change. There were several interesting stalls. I particularly enjoyed meeting some fantastic artists/artisans. I spent some time talking to them about their work and possible collaborations. They were very friendly and eager to work directly with artists.Afterwords, I went back to the hostel for a bit of rest, then walked over to Najeebullah Rashdi’s place. He was working on a portrait for a friend in oil paint. I sat down and connected to his internet to send out some emails and upload a bunch of blog posts. He showed me more of his excellent paintings, which I ended up posting in yesterday’s blog post. It’s really great to connect to all these artists. His little daughter came to visit throughout the time I was there. She spoke in Sindhi, so I could not understand her words, but it was very cute. She brought a little plastic container with slime in it and poured it in my hands. I pretended to sneeze it out.I shared some of my process and thoughts in my approach to adapting “Risalo”. It was fun to learn about some other musical forms and places around here as well. Afterwards Najeeb sahib and his daughter walked me back to the hostel. She asked her father why I didn’t speak in Sindhi, to which I told her in Punjabi, “Jadon tusi mairai naal Punjabi ij gal karugai, tai mai wi twadai naal Sindhi ij gal karanga (when you speak to me in Punjabi, I’ll speak to you in Sindhi.” She just looked at me a bit puzzled :). I was just kidding around. A lot of people start speaking to me in Sindhi here, but I don’t really understand it, so unfortunately, I have to switch to Urdu. Sindhi sounds beautiful and when people translate bits of poetry by reciting in Sindhi, then Urdu, even the sound of the words and the bits I can pick out are so much more interesting than the sound of the translation, though it is good too. I certainly pick up a lot of fascinating things in conversations with people here. There is a very deep sense of culture and appreciation of it here with the arts folks in Jamshoro. The connection is deeper than I have seen in some other places.At night, Mangi and Najib sahib took me out for some tea. Though the mosquitos were eating me alive as usual, I got to hear some fascinating stories about a guy named Watiya Fakir from Tando Allah Yar, famous for his anecdotes, similar to Mullah Nasruddin, whose stories are famous in large parts of the world. The stories were anecdotes of questioning society in humorous ways. One story went like this. He arrived to a dinner party dressed as a fakir (wandering ascetic) in tattered and dirty clothes. The hosts quickly pushed him out. He returned a second time, dressed in fine clothing. They let him in and he sat down to dinner. He began rubbing the food all over his clothes. When people in shock asked him what he was doing, he said it was the clothes that you invited for dinner, not me.There were several anecdotes in a sense questioning religious leaders in their preachings on God, or just making a humorous statement on it. Mangi sahib’s storytelling was really great. He shared it in Urdu for my benefit, but when he would mention a key phrase in Sindhi, it sounded that much more rich.
Jamshoro
My first day back in Jamshoro was interesting.
My first day back in Jamshoro was interesting. The kind staff of the hostel I am put up in made me a paratha and omelette for breakfast. I had my first chai of the day with it. There’s no internet here, so I’m just writing blog posts that I can upload later. The hostel is up a hill, surrounded by some homes and several girl’s hostels for universities in the area. There’s dirt and rocks all around, with bits of green and plastic bags and refuse. There are packs of wandering stray dogs, that leave well enough alone during the day, but at night, I wouldn’t walk here.
I waited a while, doing this and that in my room, before heading down to the Institute of Sindhology. I walked into the library and asked the staff if they had any books on puppetry. They said, I have chosen a difficult subject. There really wasn’t anything on that, particularly in relation to Sindh. I asked them to check on a book by an incredible illustrator named Akbar Soomro. He had created two illustrated books that I know of, on the poetry of Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai (upon whose work my puppet film “Risalo” will be based). I knew about them because I had them send to me from the Berkeley Library years ago. Over the years, I barely managed to find the color one he created at the end of his career. The little black and white one he created at the beginning was not to be found. They didn’t have it at the library either. This is a huge problem in a society either can’t afford books, and or does not purchase them. Akbar Soomro was a great illustrator who created these labors of love at his own expense and was unable to recoup the costs. His books are treasures, that should be reissued and sent around the world. I had the opportunity to see one of his original paintings when visiting his family years ago, long after his passing. I hope to do so again and take some steps towards realizing some kind of positive effort in this regards.I visited the audio library where I plan to do some research for “Risalo” once I get the necessary approvals. I walked through the beautiful Sindhology museum, which is as usual very accessible to the people whose culture it represents. I picked up a CD of Sur Kalyan, the first in a series on the verses of Shah Latif, recorded by Sindhology with the incredible voice of the late ______.There was a bit of a mixup in terms of where I was and where I needed to go, but the staff at the hostel helped get me to Naimatullah sahib at the Arts Department of Sindh University. We worked out the details of a series of workshops I will conduct with their students, and he worked on the necessary paperwork for my stay and the sessions. I really appreciate the opportunity to share with these students and the efforts of my friends to make it possible.We were joined by Mangi sahib at Naimatullah sahibs home for a delicious home cooked meal with daal, eggplant and chicken. I certainly was not shy about eating. By this point, I think I had about 4 cups of chai between breakfast, office visits and lunch. I really appreciate that these two friends take time out of what is a really demanding schedule, dealing with all manner of administrative tasks to make sure I’m well fed, and cared for.They dropped me back at the hostel and I got some rest. I woke up and did a bit of editing on “Risalo”. I made a bunch of calls, set up some meetings and listened to some Sindhi music recordings that I have set aside as research. The sun had gone down, and I thought I’d go out and do some long exposure photography tests of the stars. I was listening to some of Abida Parveen’s renditions of Sindhi poetry, and a good half an hour passed before I could wrestle myself away from the sublime beauty of her music and go out to do some work.I pointed the camera up at the sky and played around with different settings on the camera. I’m glad I picked up the camera remote, as that helped keep things more stable when I used bulb exposures which basically keeps the shutter open until you press the trigger a second time.Naimatullah sahib picked me up and we head over to his place again. This time I got to see more of his art in his garage studio. I’ve enjoyed his work in past visits, but had not seen these beautiful relief sculptures. I have never created fiber glass pieces before, so it was really interesting to learn a bit about his process. He sculpts the works in clay, sometimes from a references for portraits of incredibly straight in the clay, without any planning for some of the other pieces. His level of skill and artistic vision is evident in these beautiful story pieces. After the initial sculpt, he creates a plaster mold, then applies the fiberglass in the mold. It is a meticulous process that yields beautiful, resilient results. We discussed some ideas on how to get this work out into the world.After another wonderful home cooked meal (there is so much more variety to home cooked food than restaurant faire) and chai, Mangi sahib took me to Najib sahib’s home again. I needed to send a few emails. Najeebullah Rashdi sahib had been curious about my short film “Gul”, so I gave him a DVD of it along with the Girnari Jogi Group album. He showed me a beautiful short film that he had created based around the them of a young girl’s desire for education. There was no dialogue and the pacing was very slow and serene, yet I was completely transfixed by it. Each shot was beautifully composed using the natural landscape of Sindh, along with traditional mud homes and a ramshackle abandoned building.
In addition to that, I got to see some of his sketch books drawings. Besides being a talented filmmaker, he is also an excellent cartoonist. I am truly humbled and amazed by the quality of these artists. It’s really fun to share art. They are so gracious and kind towards my efforts to incorporate Sindhi culture in fresh ways that I know would not be possible without the warm welcome and support that I have always received here. These projects are still a big challenge, and there are many times during the process where I wonder what madness compelled me to think I could pull this stuff off, but these projects, the stories of each person I share along the way and the effort to support and invigorate culture make them something priceless to me. That the people who have helped me, feel good about what I have done, is appreciated beyond words.
Department of Culture, Sindh
I stayed the night at the Department Culture of Sindh. I spent the morning editing Phool Patti interviews and the “Risalo” animatic. Every decision to cut out a line of poetry, where two lines are too similar in meaning, opens up the edit to allow music to come in more and gives more weight to the words that remain.
During the day, a Jogi named Gulab Jogi, who lives in Bhitshah, Shah Latin’s town, happened to drop by. We talked for a while and I asked him a bit about how Jogis travel. He showed me a photo album of his many travels and meetings with various dignitaries, dancers and artists from around the world. He was a really jovial and friendly person. He clearly has a deep love of his culture, which he enjoys sharing with people.He shared a geedar sing and hatta jori with us. The geedar singh is removed from a geedar and used for protection. He emphasized the the geedar is not killed during this process. The hatta jori is a sort of dried root that becomes hard and somewhat bone like.I got his card and will likely visit him in Bhitshah as I search for puppeteers in Sindh. After that, we took a few photos and he was on his way. My friend Ali Salman Anchal of Phool Patti dropped by with some of my luggage. I said goodbye to Muhammed Ghulam who had woken up and driven with Ali through crazy traffic at a moment’s notice to get me the night I arrived in Karachi. There are some interesting new collaborations in the works thanks to all of these meetings. I hope to share more when they bear fruit.After that, the kind people at the Department of Culture dropped me at the bus station, from where I hopped on a coaster for Jamshoro. The ride took a while, but it was interesting to see the variety of vendors that would pop on and off the bus to offer their wares. There were the perfume guys that had their pitch down who invited people to test out the perfume for free, then proceeded to walk up and down the aisle and spray some cologne just above our heads. There’s a lot of clever wordplay and a particularly honed style of delivery for these pitches. It’s hard work jumping on a bus and hawking wares by delivering your pitch and just walking up and down, watching for any kind of interest in someone’s eyes and then hopping off, into a sea of chaos outside as the bus starts to leave.
People were selling egg burgers, spiced cucumbers, peanut brittle, chenna snacks, hats, kid’s clothes, cell chargers and covers, juice, soda, plastic light up toys etc. There were children and women who came aboard asking for alms, as they made their pitch for doing so to be rewarded for your good deeds and getting an opportunity to visit the holy city of Medina.
We stopped at a rest area for a bit to gather more passengers. The conductor went out and brought people aboard, as passengers went out to get pakoras, samosas and other snacks. Once on the highway, we passed a lot of petrol stands and restaurants along the way. It’s pretty crazy how these huge buses and trucks honk like mad men when passing each other while these little cars are nuts enough to weave around them.
Eventually I reached the Jamshoro stop. There are a ton of rickshaws there, waiting to take people further. I called up my friend Saeed Mangi, and he sent Shehzad sahib out with a car. I took some long exposures as I waited. It is quite dark out there, with only streaks of light from passing vehicles. It could be a very creepy place, but no one really bothered me. Drivers asked me if I needed a ride a few times, and when I said no, they went back to chatting with each other.
I settled into the room with campus housing, then Mangi sahib took me out to meet other art faculty and dinner. It was really great to see him again after several years. His kids have grown quite a bit in that time, and have no recollection of me whatsoever, but I certainly remember them. I enjoyed a delicious dinner of chicken karhai, but was left out of most of the conversation as the group was speaking in Sindhi instead of Urdu. I watched stray dogs mill about, as I scarfed down food and fended off mosquitos. I enjoy the sound of Sindhi. Like Punjabi, it has a beautiful flow and there’s a particular way that people connect words and blend them together. Also like Punjabi, it can be beautiful when it is used as such, and not so much in the way that some people speak in a sort of gutteral way. I’ve been working from a wonderful Urdu translation to adapt “Risalo” and look forward to recording the corresponding lines in their original Sindhi so that I can share this poetry that exemplifies the beauty of this language and its people.
Yusuf Ghot Phool Patti
I went with Haider Ali and Mumtaz Ahmad to a place called Yusuf Ghot.
I went with Haider Ali and Mumtaz Ahmad to a place called Yusuf Ghot. A talented phool patti artist named Gulraiz Affridi who had apprenticed with Haider Ali was working on a tanker truck. Mumtaz bhai and a few other artists joined in to lend a hand. I got to watch and learn more about the process. Besides that, I came up with some concepts for one of the sequences for "Risalo" that I'll be exploring further.
It was a quiet day, just listening to the artists and taking mental notes. We rode past a long line of beautifully decorated trucks. It was like walking into a giant art gallery. Haider had me pose with the brush, though I wouldn't dare mess with their paint jobs. These guys do amazing things. Double and triple loading the brush, they can create beautiful flowers with a sweep of the hand. Even with such quick skills, it takes a team of artists painstaking days baking in the sun to create these masterpieces. They make it look easy because they are able to do such fine work almost entirely freehand. I love watching the process, as rich lines and color flow across these hulking trucks.I'm working out some details for the next step in this process.
Afterwards, we head back and I got to spend some quality time with Haider's sweet children. The two little ones are twins, and just about the most quiet, innocent kids you'll find. They look around innocently, waddling around, poking their paws into things they should not. The little girl is constantly giggling and climbing on things. The little boy just looks bewildered, while his older brother asks a lot of cute questions and walks around making sure they don't tumble down the stairs. Such a sweet older brother. I love how the little boy has a shirt that says dangerous across it under that vest. Can't ask for better company on this leg of the trip.
Maripur Hawk's Bay Rd Phool Patti
Maripur Hawk's Bay Rd Phool Patti with the masterful Phool Patti artists
Spending time with Haider Ali and Ali Salman Anchan has been really great. While I am certainly here to work on my puppet film "Risalo", there are a lot of interesting side excursions that are integral to my growth as well as the project at hand. I can't really do the work without immersing myself into being here and following these sort of side stories along the way. I'm still jet lagged and my sleep timings are all over the place, but I manage to stay awake through the day. As I write about things I am doing, there are a lot of other "Risalo" related developments that will be shared more so when something more substantial comes together.
I took a ride with Ali Salman Anchal and visited Haider Ali and the rest of the Phool Patti team at the Quaid-e-Azam International Truck Stand, Karachi. I got to see more of the process behind the work, which was really exciting for me. From purchasing paints and custom made brushes, to seeing a bit of the division of labor from undercoat to phool patti (which is the actual name of this art form people have termed truck art).
We're not far from Baluchistan here in Hawk's Bay, but still within Sindh. It has been really fascinating to meet Mumtaz Bhai, the creative director of Phool Patti (the company) and several other artists on the team. I was photographing one of their beautiful finished trucks from Baluchistan, when the proud owner of the vehicle came by and asked me to photograph him with it. I'm so glad that he did. People don't often realize the care and attention to detail that goes into this work. As an artist, it's quite clear to me, but often the general public thinks that like many "services", it is just a matter of throwing a bit of money at some people to get the job done for a pittance.
What they do not realize is the level of commitment, artistry and expertise that goes into creating these rich works of art. These are true masterpieces and I hope to do my part in getting the general public to see them as such. They are master artists, who rather than being hindered by some paltry college art education, live and breathe this stuff, and pour their souls into every piece they lay their brush upon.
Here's a little time-lapse of Haider Ali doing what he does. Note, this isn't a finished piece at the end of the clip.
First Day in Karachi
Sadquain at Frere Hall, Multan Lok Raqs Party and some puppets by Thespianz Theater.
Multan Lok Raqs Party from Adnan Hussain on Vimeo.
motorcycle ride in Karachi from Adnan Hussain on Vimeo.
Descending into Karachi
After months of working out logistics, waiting, wondering and struggling, I arrived in Karachi, Pakistan.
After months of working out logistics, waiting, wondering and struggling, I arrived in Karachi, Pakistan.
After a short jaunt around Abu Dhabi, my wife and I went our separate ways to work on our projects. I walked over to the gate for my flight to Karachi, and there were several elderly, world worn people sitting, squatting, lying down as I might see waiting for a train in Pakistan, with bundles and bags.
I thought about how beat down we are right now with all that's going on in Pakistan. I watched as people at an adjacent gate filed into buses to a flight to Bangalore, India.Our flight started boarding a while later, and we seemed like cattle herded into the bus to the plane. We reached the plane, yet the doors remained shut as we stared at the stairs leading to our ride home without a complaint.I fell asleep on the flight, came to in time to scarf down a meal, then watched the sunset along the wing of the plane, fade into darkness as we descend into Karachi.
Passengers scrambled off the plane. I walked down long corridors. A tiny, hunched over elderly woman winced in pain, struggling to keep up with her ragged group that was far ahead of her. I looked at her, then the standing people mover. I asked if I could hold her bag as her group moved further. I helped her fearfully step on the conveyer, with her bag in my hand. She was exhausted.I ran back up the escalator as she stood frozen crying "Man dar lagda ai" ( I'm afraid) before I coaxed her into stepping on.I left her and the bag with her group. She gasped prayers for my successes as we parted.I stood in line at immigration. An old bearded man and his incredibly aged mother, blind in one eye, barely holding on to her cane, elbowed past me to the counter. I didn't care. I waited and watched as the woman collapsed in a bundle, as paperwork was processed. As the immigration officer did his job without favoritism, but never made the poor, exhausted woman get up. He checked what he needed and sent them on their way.The immigration officer mentioned how these elderly people had just returned from that once in a lifetime opportunity to perform Umra, the off season pilgrimage to Mecca.I got my bags and strolled out past eager faces with nothing but excitement to receive their loved ones. My friend was nowhere to be seen.I stood on one side, looking at the sea of people walking past at night. Someone brought me a cart and let me use his cel phone. No answer.I tried again from the local security booth. They invited me in and helped me figure out what to do. They are very busy dealing with securing this airport. It was brutally attacked by militants not too long ago. The bus kiosk was closed. No reply on the phone. I waited some more.I saw a group of men holding flower garlands looking around, waiting for an arrival. One wore an ajrak. I asked who they were waiting for. They mentioned a friend from Iran, and looked a bit cautious. I reassured them, it was nothing negative, knowing of recent murders of Shias. I mentioned none of that, but we understood. Without missing a beat, one of them offered me a soda. I declined, but appreciated the kindness, not at all uncommon.Then I thought to connect to Wi-Fi, as my sim along with all other unverified Pakistani sims have been deactivated prior to my arrival as the nation struggles against violence.I found another number, called a friend of a friend I had not met, but trust. WiFi was weak so another stranger at a cel phone stall let me call again with his phone. My friend's friend dropped everything to fight through traffic. Not one complaint from his companion behind the wheel, who drove to pick up some random person, through a mass of cars inches from one another, honking and twisting in so much madness.A home was opened to me at a moments notice based off a mutual friendship. New friends are made. A delicious meal was shared and plans are adjusted. I'm reading about 4 or 5 hate crimes, beatings and murders of south asians and muslims on my facebook feed from the US as I sit here in Karachi waiting for the sun to come up, grateful that I'm greeted with so much kindness by people I have never met before today, knowing that this is Pakistan, and this is how it is.
Wandering with Jogis
I had come to SIndh, Pakistan from Los Angeles seeking a group of wandering snake charmers; Jogis to add their music to my animated film "Gul". Little did I know how connected we would be in the years to come, from devastating floods to bringing Sufi poetry to the world all thanks to people joining together to do some good.
Six years ago, I found myself at the side of a freeway eating food under a rickety hut in the deserts of Jamshoro, Sindh in Pakistan. The air was hot, as was the food. Drenched in sweat, I looked out past the asphalt, across sand, sprinkled in defiant bits of green. I had come there from Los Angeles seeking a group of wandering snake charmers; Jogis to add their music to my animated film "Gul". Little did I know how connected we would be in the years to come, from devastating floods to bringing Sufi poetry to the world all thanks to people joining together to do some good.
Thanks to help from Suffi Bilal Khalid, Fatah Daudpoto, Saeed Mangi and others who made my work possible, I have a story to share. I went to pick up Ustad Amb Jogi and Jairam Jogi at the Hyderabad rail station in Sindh. We would have ridden in two auto rickshaws, but they humbly suggested that one was enough. We piled in with my friend Azam Bugti, the two musicians, their large instrument cases and the auto driver, then went to Fatah sahib's apartment.
In the apartment, we met a few more local musicians, and each played a bit. I was mesmerized. It took years of grueling effort to get to this point. The musicians asked what I was looking for and I played a few recordings. They had never made music for films before. I reassured them, that what I wanted was their music, expressing the emotions of my film. After setting a date for a recording session and overcoming some other logistical challenges, I found myself with them again at the recording studio at the Institute of Sindhology in Jamshoro.
With hand gestures and words, I gave them cues for timing as Ustad Amb Jogi lead them through different raags and emotional arcs of the film. Each musician added their embellishments and created a rich piece of music. I was ecstatic. All that pressure and effort came down to several hours of weaving music from their seventh and eighth generation traditions, into a nine minute piece of music. We shared a meal after the recording session, then bid farewell. I came back to Los Angeles, with the recordings which I mixed and edited. I finished the rest of my film and "Gul" was born.The Jogis came with me through their music to festivals around the world. My film had no words, but the emotions of their music and sound design by my friend Brian Stroner. I put together a section devoted to them on my website, to let the world know them. The following year, I returned to Sindh, to give thanks to friends and share the finished film. The Jogis met in the lawn of a local radio station. I was overjoyed to see them again. They told me that it was not a particularly large project that we had worked on, but when I called them about meeting, they came because they appreciated my respect for them. I felt the same way. We sat and talked for a while. I told them how people around the world loved their music at festivals I went to. I gave them DVDs for each member of the group. I learned more about the challenges they face as musicians, such as never receiving copies of their recordings, never being showcased in their own album, and certainly not receiving the financial rewards for their art that they should. They were known as being among the best at each of their instruments, yet being illiterate and of simple means, promotion was not something they could manage. Yet these were not complaints. They shared with me, only after some pushing, out of a sense of trust.My project was funded out of pocket. They sat with me and gave it all the care and skill they had. In turn, I tried to give them the utmost respect as fellow artists as well as paying them for their hard work. These are sweet, humble people. I wanted to do more. I asked them to get recordings of their work, and have them sent via a friend at the University to me in Los Angeles, that I might cobble something together to promote them further. They agreed and we parted ways.I came back to Los Angeles, after that summer and got busy in trying to earn a living again to keep bills paid. I called Ustad Amb Jogi in November the next year, only to learn that he and the rest of the Jogis had lost their homes to devastating floods. Ashamed that I had not thought to check in sooner, I began to think about what I could do. I took video from our recording session and put it together. Based on that, I created a small campaign selling that one piece of music and sharing their story. It took a few months of personally emailing, calling and speaking to as many people as possible, but we raised $1,200 which I transferred to Ustad Amb Jogi. My friends at Sindhology came through to support once again. They provided recording services, then sent me the footage to edit and mix with funds going to the musicians and minimal recording costs.
Out of that project came a DVD and CD of the Jogis, with their names on it, short bios, photos and introductions with subtitles as a fledgling vehicle to promote and support their livelihoods. I told everyone about the project, shared the Jogi's story and music online for free and in person everywhere I went. People bought the album and at a very grass roots level it has been able to help the Jogis by raising more funds. Their videos have received thousands of views online, and where once there was no trace of them to the outside world, now people from every corner of the world can know them and their music in their own words. This project did not take millions of dollars to create. It took care, trust and a lot of love. They gave me what I could never create, and I in turn applied my skills and resources to try and share what I could.
In the end, I feel empowered by what can happen with an idea and the many people who help to make it a reality. At the moment, I am planning a new project with the Jogis, assorted other musicians and puppeteers, to dig deeper and share more of the rich culture there as well as benefit more artists. We are creating a traditional puppetry film based on sufi poetry by Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai which will bring together Sindhi folk musicians and Rajasthani puppeteers in the form of a film that crosses a border that has kept families apart for almost 70 years. Once again, it started with an idea, and is steadily growing, thanks to the power of people coming together to try and do some good.Learn more about the puppet film; "Risalo".
Islamic Calligraphy: An Introduction by Aslam Kamal
Islamic Calligraphy: An Introduction by Aslam Kamal and how I applied it to a logo design for Gul.
It was among a stack of dusty books that I lucked out and found Aslam Kamal's Islamic Calligraphy: An Introduction. A few years ago, I was visiting book stores in Lahore as I love to do. Besides newer books, there are lots of treasures to be found in piles of old books. Often, that is where I learn about interesting artists and stories. Art books in Pakistan have very limited print runs as the audience of those who can afford art books and appreciate them is a small one.The book has a good deal of variety when it comes to calligraphy in Arabic script and more. There are pages with ancient examples from earlier forms of Arabic writing in the Quran, to exquisite pieces throughout the ages. Of particular interest to me were the pieces by Sadequain, one of Pakistan's most celebrated artists as well as the beautiful juxtaposition of architecture and calligraphy in the work of Aslam Kamal, the author of the book as well as an incredible artist himself.
It was with this inspiration that I did a series of sketches to come up with a title logo for my short film Gul.
Art of Music Night 3: Pakistan
Two weeks after the last Art of Music event, we held our third night time event in the series at the Levantine Cultural Center. This time, I focused on Pakistan. The story turned from traveling in countries and connecting to cultures I had never met before, to going home.
Two weeks after the last Art of Music event, we held our third night time event in the series at the Levantine Cultural Center. This time, I focused on Pakistan. The story turned from traveling in countries and connecting to cultures I had never met before, to going home. I shared my short animated film Gul, featuring the music of the Girnari Jogi Group as well as the story behind both. I felt very grateful to have an opportunity to share the story of these fantastic Sindhi musicians across the globe for an audience that respected what they do and supported my efforts to benefit them. Once again, I met with many new faces and enjoyed the warm company of many old friends as well.My good friend Robin Sukhadia, Tablapusher kept the crowd going with his DJing and a live tabla performance in which he share the story of this beautiful instrument.
Crowd Funding for the Girnari Jogi Group Album
Click to enjoy the music of the Girnari Jogi Group.Back in December 2011, I had called my friend Ustad Amb Jogi in Pakistan. I was visiting Ohio at the time, and thought it would be good to catch up with some friends I hadn't spoken to in a while. I had hired Jogi and his group of musicians to record music for my short animated film Gul, back in 2008. I returned to the US, finished the film, toured around with it, then returned to share the results with Jogi and his group in 2010. That day in December 2011, on the phone, after some prodding, Jogi told me that he and the other musicians had lost their homes to flooding, earlier that year.I felt ashamed for not having called sooner. My second thought was that I needed to do something. Sitting a world away, what could I do for these wonderful musicians? I had one song that I had hired them to record. There was some unedited video footage from the recording session. Perhaps I could use these along with the photos of them I had already posted online in promotion of my film, to try and piece together a campaign to raise funds.
It was not feasible for me to raise enough funds to rebuild their homes. Still, I knew they could use whatever I could raise, but there had to be something more. I had discussed promoting them with recordings that others may have made of them before all of this, but no one every really gave them footage from shows, nor were there people interested in looking our for and promoting them.What if I used this campaign to pay them to create an album? Then they would be earning the money and it would work towards trying to create new opportunities for their careers. I already had a website, so I researched some shopping plugins for wordpress and decided on Shopp. I also started contacting people in the US and in Pakistan. I started letting everyone I met know about this campaign that I was putting together. My target was to get it up and running after Christmas and New Years, when people might be paying attention again. I enlisted the help of a few friends for recording at the Institute of Sindhology in Jamshoro, Sindh, Pakistan.
I went through my data backups and pulled out the footage, and the music only version of the score from my film. To me, this was the key to connecting potential crowd funders here in the US, with these musicians in Pakistan. I edited the video together, finished testing the shop portion of my website and finally launched the campaign, a few days after New Years. I used my facebook page, and fan page to send out messages with the purchase link. Everyone I spoke to learned about the campaign. By the time the campaign began, I had everything worked out as far as recording facilities, how to send the money directly to Ustad Amb Jogi and what to do with the footage for the new album once I had it. Now I just needed to raise the funds. I set a goal for $1,200 as that would be 4 to 5 times what the musicians would normally get paid for recording.Now that I had pushed myself so hard and put it all out there, certainly the money would come pouring in. Wrong! A few sales came through, but it quickly became apparent that things needed to pick up to make this goal a reality. I posted in all kinds of forums and groups related to Sindhi culture (Sindh being where the musicians were from in Pakistan). There was interest. People enjoyed watching the video, but it really did not increase sales.I started sending direct messages to everyone based in the US on my facebook. It took time to write all the messages, personalize them and try and connect people to what I was trying to do. Every day, I sent messages until I hit the facebook anti spam warning, then stopped for the day to start again the very next. Things picked up slightly, but on a day when I didn't campaign, nothing happened. I kept on it morning, noon and night around my work schedule.Every time someone purchased the music, I sent a thank you with them tagged in it from the Mad Guru facebook page. This showed up to all their friends and then to my twitter feed which was connected. I tried to use hash tags that would help with visibility. I kept this going for 2 months, messaging and remessaging to get through to friends and their circles.By the end of the campaign, there were over 90 people who purchased music to help the Jogis. I sent it all to Ustad Amb Jogi, all the while discussing what the purpose of the album was, how stories are what connects people and how their culture is what people wanted to enjoy. The Jogis were ready to go. With money in hand, they were able to hire a recording engineer and studio at the Institute of Sindhology for a very low cost thanks to the generosity of contacts there.
Receiving the recordings ended up being the largest delay in the process. I called from April to October to try and get the recording sent. I tried to have other contacts go and pick up the tapes to send me, but in the end a good friend Suffi Bilal Khalid in Lahore was able to get the tapes sent to him, which he was able to digitize and ftp to me as courier services refused to send music, probably due to piracy fears, though these were original recordings.
With the recording in hand, I've launched the album, and feel thankful to all those who chipped in $1.50 to $150, and placed their faith in the Jogis and myself. It had been a rewarding journey so far, and I hope to keep connecting the Girnari Jogi Group to new opportunities. Thanks Saeed Mangi for all the beautiful photos from the recording session, and for helping to make it possible to record at the Institute of Sindhology. Thanks to Fatah Daud Poto and Suffi Bilal Khalid for making it possible for me to ever even meet Ustad Amb Jogi and the group.
Animals of Lahore
I really enjoy walking around the old walled city in Lahore, Pakistan. On my walks, I run into all kinds of interesting buildings, history, people and of course animals. In this post, I'm going to focus on that list category, animals. Early in the morning, you can see donkeys hauling bricks and other construction equipment down the narrow lanes where trucks can't go. Here and there you'll find chickens, walking around, eating, and checking out the scene.
I really enjoy walking around the old walled city in Lahore, Pakistan. On my walks, I run into all kinds of interesting buildings, history, people and of course animals. In this post, I'm going to focus on that list category, animals. Early in the morning, you can see donkeys hauling bricks and other construction equipment down the narrow lanes where trucks can't go. Here and there you'll find chickens, walking around, eating, and checking out the scene. Now and then you'll see a goat, looking confused about why you're there as much as you are about it. There are even some parrots and pigeons, often kept in large cages on tall rooftops. The pigeons shown here are actually outside the walled city, in front of the National College of Arts, where I have seen people drive up and spread bird seeds around the famous Kim's Gun, a cannon immortalized by Rudyard Kipling's, who spent some years in Lahore and incidently whose father started the art college, which used to be called the Mayo School of Arts.
Azad Pakistan
Sketch of Mehr and Shehr Ali in honor of Pakistan's Independence Day along with Nusrat's rendition of Allama Iqbal's "Javed Nama".
Happy Independence Day Pakistan! Here's a sketch from a few years ago of Mehr and Sher Ali, two famous Pakistan Qawwali singers that seemed appropriate for the day.
A powerful piece of poetry, instilling a sense of duty and self sufficiency in a people in desperate need, as relevant today as when Mohammad Allama Iqbal wrote it in the 1930's, I give you Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's rendition of "Javed Nama".
Journey to Sindh
A journey to Sindh to seek out folk musicians to record music for a short film turns into much more. The people and culture of Sindh made this journey.
Earlier this month I added a 5 part writeup with galleries on each page, of my journey to Sindh back in the summer of 2008 to record music for my short film Gul(flower). What fascinates me about storytelling, is not just sitting in a room and creating art, but rather the process of connecting to people, enriching the story of your own life and then expressing something about it.Sindhi is a province in Pakistan, rich with culture, heritage and incredible people. The hot desert, delicious food, a strong connection to Sindhi language and heritage and beautiful, colorful traditional clothes and art make it a fascinating place.I hope to explore more of it someday, but you can get a glimpse of my travels and some of the things I saw in Hyderabad and Jamshoro here.
The Music of Gul: A Journey Part 1
For a short film with a raw, painterly style, and intense emotions, I wanted equally raw and powerful music. This was a story that needed the warmth and richness of acoustic sounds played in a timeless fashion. An Iqbal Jogi CD is took me on a journey to find contemporary Sindhi folk musicians.
Gul, Sindh, Pakistan Journey Header
1. Going to Sindh - 2. Emperors New Clothes and Sites - 3. Fun Days and Tipping Point - 4. Time Running Out - 5. All Good Now?There are many stories behind the making of Gul(flower). One is how I came to record music in Jamshoro, Sindh, Pakistan with Sindhi folk musicians. I went there for music, but came back with so much more.
Choosing a Musical Style
For a short film with a raw, painted style, and intense emotions, I wanted equally raw and powerful music. This was a story that needed the warmth and richness of acoustic sounds. I placed different types of music on the rough cut of the short and found my way to Sindhi folk music by way of a CD by the Iqbal Jogi Ensemble called Passion for Pakistan. The music did not match the timing of the short, but the sound and style felt right. I knew I could bring something fresh with this combination. It would be tough to hire musicians and create original music, but music is vital to the story, so there could be no compromise on it. Ideas for the music were in my mind years before I was actually ready to record it. Eventually, that Iqbal Jogi CD is what took me on this journey to find contemporary Sindhi folk musicians. At the time I didn't know what Iqbal Jogi looked like or really much of anything beyond the vague CD liner notes. More recently I did manage to find this video of the late master musician, well worth watching.
When the Right Way is Completely Wrong
So how do you do something you know nothing about? A mutual friend connected me to a well known Pakistani musician who has a recording studio and works with folk musicians at times. I let him know exactly what I was looking for, including sample music, but he just kept asking about money. It’s a red flag when someone tries to size you up to see what they can squeeze out of you instead of discussing the requirements for the work. This convinced me that even if I came up with a magic sum he was not going to bring any heart to the project. I spoke to his assistant on the phone several times once I reached Lahore, Pakistan as he had invited me to contact him, but he never bothered calling back, so that road thankfully ended there.
Going to Sindh
arrive_hyd
Disappointed in my first lead, I turned to my friend Suffi Bilal Khalid, from the Multimedia Department at the National College of Arts in Lahore, Pakistan. I met him years ago when I walked into the NCA to see if they had any people doing animation and we have kept in touch. He personally knows or is connected to many people in the arts community. Perhaps equally, if not more important, he is a friend and an honest one at that. Through some contacts he gave me, I began reaching out to people in Sindh, Pakistan, where the music I sought comes from.So I began talking to a second contact for music. He was a musician, a teacher and as the head of a music department, he was in a perfect position to help. On the phone he was very friendly and hospitable, inviting me to come to Sindh. I thought for certain, this was the man who would help me find the musicians I needed.In my second month in Pakistan, I took the overnight train, in economy class, traveling on a dusty bunk, in a sea of hard working, everyday people, packed into the aisles, to Hyderabad, Sindh. The loud call of vendors rang out through the evening and again in the morning, as the train trudged along.I got to Hyderabad around noon the next day and grabbed a rickshaw to the address I was told to go to. It was a pharmacy, from which a young man came and walked me down a narrow lane.As I walked down, I saw a procession going to a shrine around the corner, to pay respects, playing music and doing a dance called dhamal. I knew I was in the right place
.1. Going to Sindh - 2. Emperors New Clothes and Sites - 3. Fun Days and Tipping Point - 4. Time Running Out - 5. All Good Now?
Ice Walas in Lahore, Pakistan
The younger ice walas joked around, telling my friend Imran and I to photograph the slightly older man, whom I assumed was their boss. There's an incredible amount of hardship to life in Pakistan. There's the security situation, the fact that electricity and gas are rationed to a few hours a day, strangling business and life and a bleak outlook on anything improving. Yet people keep going. These ice walas wake up early every morning, and work hard all day. Despite that, what I love most about taking these walks, is getting to connect to that humanity that people share so warmly.
Whenever I am in Lahore, I love to walk through the back alleys of the old city. I'll try and share some of the pictures and stories from those many walks among other things, on this blog. This particular day, I ran across some ice walas. They were breaking large blocks of ice to send out to customers. Lahore is a fascinating place, with endless stories and interesting people. You never know what you'll run across. The mornings are really fun, because people are just getting started with their day, and not too busy and tired yet to stop for some conversation.The younger ice walas joked around, telling my friend Imran and I to photograph the slightly older man, whom I assumed was their boss. There's an incredible amount of hardship to life in Pakistan. There's the security situation, the fact that electricity and gas are rationed to a few hours a day, strangling business and life and a bleak outlook on anything improving. Yet people keep going. These ice walas wake up early every morning, and work hard all day. Despite that, what I love most about taking these walks, is getting to connect to that humanity that people share so warmly. People constantly invite you to come have a cup of tea. There's a genuine interest in our photography, but it is tempered with kindness. People share facts and legends about the area, or take pride and show you their work, or just poke fun at one another in a good natured way.These photos, from a dull gray morning, remind me of the humbling resilience and kindness of the people of Pakistan.
Gul (flower) Music
I knew from the start that for Gul, I wanted a warm acoustic sound with a raw feel to it. Much like the visuals, that was the energy for this piece. After experimenting with different music on rough cuts of the film, I found the perfect match in Sindhi folk music.Thanks go out toSuffi Bilal Khalid of the National College of Arts in Lahore,Fatah Daudpoto of Communication Design at the Center for Design Excellence in Jamshoro, Sindh and Saeed Mangi of theInstitute of Sindhology in Jamshoro, Sindh for making it possible for me to connect to the right musicians and record their music.In the end it came down to a 3 hr recording session at the Sindhology Museum with audio engineer Zulfi, 2 DV cameras, 3 mics plugged into them, 5 excellent musicians and a constant loss of electricity.Ustad Anb Jogi Composer/DholakJairam Jogi on MurliUstad Mohammad Buksh on BanjoNasir Jogi on 2nd MurliIbrahim Jogi on TaliZulfi Recording Engineer on Music
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