Sands of time

“What are you doing here?” I asked (at that time) a bunch of three O level kids sitting quietly on the couch in Gumby’s music room at a friend’s teaching institute. One of them, Farabi, put his finger on his lips to motion for silence and pointed to something in front of him. I looked in the same direction and found Ali Hamza from Noori on the farther end of the room quietly practicing his bass guitar. This was just before Noori went in to record their second album, Peeli Patti Aur Raja Jani Ki Gol Dunya.

I walked up to Hamza and asked him what those three were doing there? He smiled and said, “They asked if they could watch, I said sure”. I couldn’t help but feel slightly amused, these children would come quite often after their classes were over and would just quietly watch Hamza practice – they wanted nothing more. A part of me thought perhaps they kept imagining themselves in Hamza’s place.

Several years later, they ended up coming on the mainstream media with their band, Raeth. Their first single, Bhula Do was catchy and propelled them into music stars almost overnight followed by their own concerts, tours in India, their own fan following and what not. Everything seemed to be going well, until one of their members, Mustafa, left the band and expressed his frustrations in an interview to the press (Images, September 30^th, 2007) stating something along the lines of “The band has obviously broken up after my exit. What people see now is Wajhi and Farabi’s part of Raeth. I have nothing more to do with it. I backed out after making some melodies on the second album. To be honest, I just couldn’t bear the fact that I was being overshadowed.” From what I had heard, all hell had broken lose with the band refusing to speak to the writer who had done the story to an increase in their differences with Mustafa himself.

Although, it seemed as if the band had fizzled out after this fling with controversy (the flip side of fame if you may), word has it that they’re back in the studio recording their second album; I bumped into at a local recording studio where they’re recording their album and he mentioned how that interview did pose difficulties for them as it tainted their image. One could see that he still felt the sting of receiving negative publicity. However, he added that instead of feeling bitter about it, it forced the band to reflect upon their approach and to work harder on their music – in a way to prove that they can rise above such pettiness and show the world that they deserve to be where they are. With the album still in process, one hopes that when it comes out, that will exactly be the case.

Pakistani musicians on Michael

The King of Pop’s impact on our local music industry is undeniable – from dance moves to disco beats. Here, some of the top names in Pakistani pop revisit their relationship with Michael Jackson, the man and the music.

Interviews by Madeeha Syed
Photography by Rizwan-ul-Haq, Kohi Marri & Fayyaz Ahmed

– Click on the photo or the text below the photo to be directed to the media gallery hosted on Dawn.com

Against the odds

“Are you sure you don’t need to warm up before we go in there?” I asked Selina when we arrived at the studio and home of the person she was literally going to audition for. “No, no” she responded nodding her head, as if to suggest that I shouldn’t be worry. At that exact moment, I couldn’t help but begin to, slightly.

Sometime, almost a year and a half ago, Rohail Hyatt was looking for female vocalists who would do backing vocals for a music fusion project he had in mind. I had initially known Selina from the public relations and artiste management firm, Lotus PR; she had started in August 2007, originally from Lahore. Over time, I had heard of her singing and collaborating with several mainstream musicians in underground performances in Lahore. Some of the other local music aficionados I had been in touch with, told me she sang really well. Till that fateful afternoon we arrived at Rohail’s place however, I hadn’t heard her sing myself and kept my fingers crossed that this would go well.

There is one thing about Selina that is immediately noticeable: she exudes warmth and confidence everywhere she goes and with everyone she meets. That’s exactly what she brought with her during that first meeting with Rohail. After introductions and the accompanying small talk were made, she – without a moment’s hesitation or breaking a sweat – stood up in one corner and prepared to sing. I held my breath.

Her tone was deep and her vocals came out strong. She sang an abridged version of Killing Me Softly by The Fugees. She was free of inhibitions when she sang and that made it all the more ‘real’ – at least for me. I was pleasantly surprised and a tad blown away. She was immediately selected and appeared in the first installment of that show sometime last year.

It was during the rehearsals for that show when I found out that the fact that she could even sing something short of a miracle. “I have a growth in my vocal chords called polyps” she said, adding that when she was young, she was told she’d never be able to become a professional singer. If she sang too much and stressed out her vocals, she would lose her voice and would have to rest her throat and would have to rest her throat and take medication to restore it.

“I think I was born with it and had surgery for it when I was really young” she said, adding with a laugh that, “although my parents to this day maintain that it was because I talk too much!” while studying in college in London, she sought vocal training that has since then helped her manipulate her vocals to use them in a stronger, better manner… and helped in singing! She still maintains however that even now, she can’t sing too much at a time because it might stress her vocal chords.

Her love for music was perpetuated by the fact that she has spent many hours with her brother, Amir (known more popularly as Buzzy), who went to a music and drama school, writing and composing songs in random jam sessions they did with a Lahore-based musician called Jimmy.

Having majored in Politics (known as Political Science in North American universities) from the University of Warwick, she joined Avelon, a PR agency until she came back to Pakistan and established her own, Lotus PR, in August 2007 and hasn’t looked back. She’s conqured the odds that faced her: she continues to sing and perform on and off despite being once told she never would be able to. And she does it all with an easy-going attitude and bright smile. I think the lyrics of the last song I heard her sing randomly, Sittin’ on the dock of the bay by Otis Redding describe her easy-going attitude pretty well:

Sittin’ in the mornin’ sun
I’ll be sittin’ when the evenin’ come
Watching the ships roll in
And then I watch ‘em roll away again, yeah

– Photo by Kohi Marri

[Dawn Blog entry #2] Backstage Access: Shacking up with music (part one)

Shacking up with music (part one)
Madeeha Syed gets through high security for a backstage peek at the most elusive recording studio in town.

I  drive several miles out of the main centre of the city, cross a bridge into an area dominated by warehouses and industrial mills and arrive at a venue marked only by a tiny sign. The only thing that gives the location away are the number of cars parked in front and the comings and goings of personnel with identity tags around their necks.

I announce my arrival via a phone call to Selina, who’s the official PR rep coordinating the (very few) guests, and she asks me to wait until she comes outside personally. She then runs me through the rules I know from last year: no photos, no blogging, no talking, and no taking information or anything else outside. Then, she makes a cryptic call to the people inside and, just when it’s the right time, brings me inside one of the large warehouses and escorts me upstairs into the gallery from where the mastermind behind the project, Rohail Hyatt – known to everyone inside as ‘Pa’ – and his team, are visible hard at work on the main floor.

– Umber & Rohail Hyatt (Photo by Rizwan-ul-Haq)

United we stand?

Forming a union for musicians is a noble initiative and one which has also been taken in the past [Association of Music Professionals of Pakistan (AMPP) formed in April 2006] albeit without any visible success.

There is again talk of a section of the musician community in Pakistan getting together to form another union — tentatively called the United Musicians of Pakistan (UMP). There are rumours of them ‘merging’ with the AMPP, but for the sake of clarity the ‘new’ union will be referred to as the UMP in this article.

Having spoken to some of the musicians who took the initiative of organising this union, the major objectives are: copyrights to the artistes’ music will not be sold, to curb the infiltration of Indian music in the local media, observe a certain minimum standard fee and rules with corporate bodies interested in supporting musicians that will not collide with the interests of others, etc.

Approximately two months into formation, there is still no official presence, no board, no official regulations or objectives. Everything to do with the union is still very much steeped in abstractions. One hopes that perhaps in the near future they’d be able to work these issues out in more concrete form.

However, the move has been met with a lot of cynicism by those who perceive it as an attempt by several mainstream musicians, whose presence and work in India has stopped following the Mumbai attacks, and who have willingly signed away the copyrights to their music to the label, seeking to undo it.

A true union for the musicians would serve the interests of all its members, including those who form their backing band, session’s players, and those who contribute to the music but do not represent the band on the mainstream media, are not in the limelight and get a nominal fee for their work.

Who better to ask about the musicians’ union than those who may directly or indirectly be affected by it? Images on Sunday sent out questionnaires to quite a few mainstream artistes and were met with a 30 per cent response rate. Those who did not respond cited the following reasons: lack of interest/belief in any union, not knowing enough about it and/or not wanting to say anything till an “official” statement had been released by the organising body – despite being told that the questions did probe into the official workings of the union.

For those proactive individuals who did not shy away from responding, we asked the following questions and were given the following answers:

Q. Are you a member? Have you been approached to be a member?

Arieb Azhar: I was (as far as I know, I still am) a member of the AMPP. I haven’t been approached to be a UMP member yet.

Faisal Rafi: No. I am not a member and no, I have not been approached to become a member either.

Farhad Humayun: I am not a member.

Farooq Ahmed: No. I didn’t even know until you told me.

Louis J. Pinto (Gumby): I am not a member and nor have I been asked to be one. I’m not very clear on what the agenda is of this organisation. Neither is it clear about who the board members are. Once things are clear one can be a better judge.

Mekaal Hasan: Yes.

Omran Shafique: I have not officially joined yet, but I am planning on it.

Rohail Hyatt: No.

Q. Would you join if you were extended the invitation?

Faisal Rafi: I would consider it, yes. But only after I know that this is for positive development and not just to create confrontation.

Farhad Humayun: Not really interested in joining any protest because it’s useless. I formed The System which was meant to promote performance and be a platform for new as well as established artistes. We’ve been delayed because our funding has been delayed.

I don’t think Indian music should be banned nor should English or German or Hungarian for that matter. We have an identity that’s very strong and we will shine through no matter what. Channels play more Indian music than Pakistani because there’s not enough material coming out of Pakistan at the moment. Shafqat, Strings, Atif Aslam, Ali Zafar have all benefited from their Indian ventures and have received acclaim in their countries after becoming famous. They should have declined all that work also.

Farooq Ahmed: I have to have the details of what’s going on. I can’t really say anything right now.

Gumby: I would definitely join the organisation if asked, but on the basis of the whole “music” industry support and not just any individual or group of artistes’ agenda.

Omran Shafique: Yes.

Rohail Hyatt: I’m not sure. Depends on what it entails and how I may be able to help out.

Q. What do you think of these musicians forming a union? Practically speaking, is it a viable move?

Faisal Rafi: Yes, it is certainly a viable move. The music industry is not a hobby/cottage industry anymore, it has grown 1,000pc in the past 10 years, serious money is involved and artistes definitely need protection and representation in the right manner to protect their creative and legal interests.

Farhad Humayun: I want to help musicians spread music and find more opportunities to play because playing is what we are meant to do. We are supposed to put our work out there and let it be heard. I’m not interested in being unproductive and bitter, and being a nuisance or a rebel without a cause. I want to offer my services to the UMP as an event/recording facilitator, helping with getting funding and launching our own record label — a label that belongs to the musicians alone.

Farooq Ahmed: The last time this happened, Sajjad bhai already predicted that this won’t work. He had his reasons and now I can see why. But yes, this could work.

Gumby: I completely agree with the idea of unity but this seems more of a mainstream singers’ convention rather than a “musicians” association. I had been a part of a similar organisation in the past but unfo

rtunately it didn’t just fall apart but also failed to set the standards right. If this is truly an act of musicians uniting then I think the first people who should be addressed are the back-up musicians of such mainstream artistes. A list of issues should be addressed as priority. The few that I can think of is a musician insurance/fund, fee structures based on percentages, copyright laws and so on.

All of this is very much viable but based on honesty of course the key word here being “unity”. If achieved we will have a better future as artistes.

Mekaal Hasan: It’s a start. I had suggested to Bilal Maqsood of Strings that this union would be a good idea to address our problems, but that we need to operate under the aegis of a bigger body like the UPA which has significant clout and features members from the acting and production fields.

Omran Shafique: It’s a step we need to take. The industry has grown in recent years, and we need to make sure we are able to protect ourselves and guide others coming into the industry. We must have a united front. As for it being viable, that remains to be seen. It will take a lot of work and coordination.

Rohail Hyatt: Everyone is entitled to fight for their rights and survival. If unions are cool for other areas of professional work, then why not for musicians? Its viability depends on the sincerity of the members. If these artistes are willing to stand for their rights, then together they certainly form a stronger team than as individuals.

Q. The AMPP was established to safeguard the interests of the local musician community, which eventually died out. Why would the UMP work as a collective body for musicians?

Rohail Hyatt: I think there was a lack of sincerity among the members of the AMPP. I remember Ali Azmat running pillar to post trying to make it work but then there is a limit to how much one person can take on such a challenge single-handedly. Like I said earlier, the success of the UMP lies in the sincerity of its members towards their goal and vision which should be made clear from the start of such an organisation.

Omran Shafique: The AMPP was happening with a lot of uncertainty — and there was still some hope in musician’s minds that they could easily weather the storm. As things have become progressively worse, I think musicians are going to take things much more seriously now.

Mekaal Hasan: It died out because it was run by musicians. If a professional body which has legislative concerns doesn’t hire lawyers or seek to work with a bigger parent body to protect those concerns then it too will be toothless and be a bitching ground while the reality persists and the grip power structure in the form of channels, labels, organisers and sponsors is unhampered. For any union to have teeth, it must tackle issues which concern everyone not just a few chosen ones.

Faisal Rafi: The AMPP did not work simply because all the people involved were involved because of some personal issue rather than a collective set of issues and problems. Haroon was involved because a private satellite channel did not pay him right, Ali Azmat was involved because another private satellite channel was on a confrontation path, and similarly others were involved to settle some sort of personal grievance. There was no sense of the common ground all music professionals’ need to be on such as copyright issues, licensing, a floor on concert fee, a floor on charges in India. There were many things that required a more neutral approach as opposed to this gung-ho media heavy approach. Everyone knew about the AMPP, but it never really did anything besides having a few meetings.

Gumby: I believe the AMPP as an organisation was pretty much the same as the UMP. Just a name change actually, but I feel with the latter it’s more of a small group of mainstream artistes who are involved in this. For any organisation to function well it requires time, effort and unity. Unfortunately in a developing nation like ours and given the turmoil that we’re in, issues like this are the least of everyone’s concern, nonetheless the attempt is often made to resolve it. The race for survival is greater than the need for future financial stability or contracts, thus artistes are faced with short-term planning and are often led to situations which might not be the best for them.

Farooq Ahmed: Circumstances are very different right now. You can see that most of the musicians mentioned here were earning mostly from India. Now they can’t, so they turn back to Pakistan and find out that there is Indian sh** everywhere! It was always there, but they never cared to understand it then because their pockets were full. But this could work this time round because the sh** has really hit the fan.

Farhad Humayun: The AMPP didn’t do anything substantial. In fact I don’t think they ever did anything. So it doesn’t count at all.

Q. Afterthoughts?

Arieb Azhar: My opinion on the matter is that a union such as this can only make a difference once all the mirasi and session musicians are on board as well. So far there is as much exploitation by educated musicians with a business mind towards session and mirasi musicians as there is by the media moguls towards all musicians as such. Definitely certain things have to be addressed, such as the media channels not paying any royalty on running music videos and concerts. But again the benefits of such a musicians’ union need to reach all hard-working musicians and not just those who can speak English or have a business mind.

Having said this I would like to clarify that I am not against such a union in the least bit, and if some people have the time to really make it work then hats off to them. But I still feel that before something like this can work several other issues need to be addressed, such as the shortage of concert venues and the scarcity of music gigs in general in the whole country, and the branding of the ‘lowest denominator’ — pop music scene in a country where there is not enough happening for an alternative scene to develop. These issues are more pertinent to me.

Faisal Rafi: Unions are formed to address the common concerns of a group of professionals, and if the UMP is founded and run on those principles, it will change a lot of things over the long run.

Omran Shafique: It’s about darn time.

Rohail Hyatt: Artistes and musicians need help and encouragement from the media and people in general. It’s an uphill battle surviving in a place like Pakistan playing music and writing songs. These people stand up against all odds, get mocked by their family and society in general, to pursue their passion. They give memorable moments to us and if they are good at what they do, they even make us proud in a global perspective (Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan comes to mind). We must aid them in their pursuit of their dream so that they may inspire others and more people can join their ranks. That will help us march towards becoming a nation that proudly expresses itself through creativity. If these people feel they need a union to survive, then we must understand that need and help them achieve it so that they can return to doing what they do best and inspire the generations to come.

Shahzad ‘Shahi’ Hasan: There is no insurgence of Indian music here. It has been a part of the pop music market since the birth of Pakistan.

Instead, they should spend the same time and effort on their own music and improve it better than the Indian artistes. Some of these artistes go to India record music, pay studio or get paid for it and not let our audiences enjoy better music here? What a dark day it would be for us when all we will be left is the current pop music of Pakistan to listen to… with a very few exceptions of course.

Indian music sells and nothing can stop it, even our music goes to India illegally, is pirated and sells a lot. Why is there no issue there? The ‘insurgence of Indian music’ even existed in the times of Vital Sings, Awaz, Junoon, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, and even before, so how come these artistes never felt threatened by it then? All of these musicians, members of the UMP, would run to India to sell their own music if given a chance, so let’s not be hypocrites.

Drugs are even more harmful than Indian music can ever be, no one could stop them from spreading in the world because they sell. Maybe they should form an alliance about drug awareness, or Aids, birth control or poverty and dedicate earnings from shows towards that… or maybe the anti-piracy act. Don’t you think so?

– Photo1: Rohail Hyatt (Photo by Rizwan-ul-Haq)

– Photo2: Shahi Hasan (Photo by Fayyaz Ahmed)

– Photo3: Mekaal Hasan
– Photo4: Gumby (Photo by Rizwan-ul-Haq)
– Photo5: Omran Shafique (Photo by Rizwan-ul-Haq)

Music-therapy: The hit parade

Despite all of the sociopolitical and economic odds it faces, art serves not only as a breath of fresh air but also motivates those exposed to it. Recently, episode one of the second season of Coke Studio titled Individuality was aired on private networks across Pakistan, giving audiences a flavour of the music coming out of Pakistan’s biggest music collaborative venture.

Boasting a formidable ensemble of artistes and musicians; the close-knit team that brings together this project — spearheaded by Rohail Hyatt — includes his wife, Umber ‘Ma’ Hyatt (producer), son Danial Hyatt (animations and visuals) and Zeeshan Parwez (video production) assisted by Anan Malik.

Individuality showcased performances which in essence concluded that music knows no boundaries and is not constrained by language. The collaborative performance between Saieen Zahoor and Noori, and the rendition of Paimona by Zeb and Haniya featuring Peshawar-based Sadiq Sameer on the rubab, were a clear testament of this statement. A total of five performances were aired and here we review each of them:

Aik Alif by Saieen Zahoor & Noori

There seems to be a song, a story and a message embedded in each wrinkle on Saieen Zahoor’s weathered face. The performance definitely wasn’t Noori featuring Saieen (as has been the traditional practice in the past of a pop act featuring a classical/folk act) but the other way around. The collaboration performed Baba Bulleh Shah’s poetry with Saieen Zahoor lending his raw, powerful vocals to sing the opening verse of the song:

Par par aalam fazal hoy’an,
Kadi apnray aap noon parya e na’en;
Ja ja warda mandar maseetan,
Kadi man apnray wich warya e na’en…

After a momentary silence we had Ali Hamza playing the banjo while Ali Noor rocked out his vocals, which served as an interlude between Saieen’s performance and Ali Hamza’s deep, soulful rendition of Bulleh’s poetry. This was one of the more uplifting tracks, with innovative arrangement and diverse but harmonious collaboration.

Aj Latha Naeeo by Jawaid Bashir

A classical artiste in his own right, Jawaid Bashir, who is also a member of the Mekaal Hasan Band, brought his powerhouse vocals to the studio with Aj Latha Naeeo. Displaying the virtuosity in his almost overpowering vocals, his performance was very much like what he would do when performing with MHB — show off his talent and skills by a constant and sometimes, repetitive rendition of alaaps and paltein during the song.

The music backing this performance pleasantly complemented the intensity of the vocals without being intrusive or crowding the song with too many things at one time. Definitely one of the better performances in the episode.

Jal Pari by Atif Aslam

I have never been a big Atif Aslam fan. In fact, I have at times found the hype surrounding him nauseating. But I was forced to reconsider that stance after seeing his performance of Jal Pari at the Studio. This fun and soulful version reached out and tugged at heartstrings while he almost effortlessly maneuvered his vocals over the lyrical content of the song — often shifting the mood from soulful to romantic to frivolous, never once threatening to have his voice blast out in his signature style and neither did he over sing the song — keeping it at just the right levels. At least when it comes to Atif, this rendition of Jal Pari definitely made a believer out of me.

Khamaj by Shafqat Amanat Ali Khan

The song will forever be immortalised in the Saqib Malik-directed black and white video of Khamaj — showing an unfulfilled, unexpressed, secret love shared between a film-maker and his leading lady.

This version was light, displaying some keyboard work by Jaffer Zaidi. The song was nostalgic at best. Shafqat being an extremely gifted vocalist communicates the emotion dominant in the original version effectively. Having said that, there wasn’t a radical change in this version from the original, with Shafqat’s vocals dominating the song more than the music itself.

Paimona by Zeb and Haniya

This version of Zeb and Haniya’s Darri/Persian/Pushto Paimona not only served to mesmerise from the moment Sadiq Sameer began plucking at the rubab strings, but served to haunt us later on as well. At this point, keeping the socio-political conditions of our country in mind, the performance of Paimona was more than just for entertainment. It was symbolic of music originating from a part of our country caught up in conflict and turmoil. It served to reinforce the fact that this part of our culture — which hasn’t been projected as much as those indigenous to other areas of the country — is just as much of our collective identity as a nation as is the music that comes on mainstream media in Urdu or Punjabi.

You could almost hear the rubab echoing in the mountains as Sadiq performed the opening solo of the song while everyone watched in absolute silence. Zeb and Haniya also gave a stellar performance, seemingly maintaining the essence of the language while they sang. Compared to the original, this version definitely had more groove, more soul and was one of the best out of the episode.

FIlmed without a live audience, this year the Studio has an air of intimacy about it — among the musicians, how they communicate with each other and how the camera captures them.

-- Photo1: Atif Aslam
– Photo2: Ali Noor& Saieen Zahoor
– Photography: Rizwan-ul-Haq & Kohi Marri

Beyond being the girls next door

“If you have to listen to local female musicians, you should take note of Zeb and Haniya’s compositions,” Sajid Ghafoor (from Sajid and Zeeshan) commented several years ago. We were having a discussion on the dearth of female musical groups in the country and how one or two aspiring artistes had managed to generate acclaim for themselves by simply posting their work online – even though their music skills still needed a lot of practice and development.

Following that conversation, I searched for Zeb and Haniya online and found their SoundClick.com profile; however, due to the internet problem, I could barely listen to their work.

Incidentally several days later, I heard Chup (their first single on the airwaves) on radio. What I particularly liked was that the sound was fresh, crisp, and raw in its originality with nothing but the vocals and the acoustic guitar dominating the track leaving the song clean. The way it had been sung felt incredibly natural and free of all pretensions.

Several months later, I found from Mekaal Hasan that Zeb and Haniya were recording in his studio with Gumby and Shallum as the collaborating musicians. It turned out that the girls had received a lot of encouragement from these musicians to record and were now finally doing it. When I met Gumby after the recording, he seemed extremely excited and thought that this was going to be a very bluesy album with a hint of jazz here and there.

Prior to that, Zeb and Haniya were also making waves in the underground scene in Lahore by doing some small-scale performances. One of them included a somewhat unplugged performance they collaborated on with Mekaal Hasan and Adnan Sarwar, the latter both on guitars, sometime in 2006.

Having heard about them, been in touch with them briefly, I finally met them sometime in June 2007 when I did their interview. One of the things I immediately noticed was that Haniya seemed very relaxed and sure of herself. She has a propensity to make sure that everyone around her was as comfortable as well! My first impression of Zeb was that she seemed shy at first, however, as the interview progressed; she displayed her more gregarious side. The entire vibe during the interview was incredibly friendly and they ended up doing an impromptu performance of Chup there and then. Sections of the interview and the audio version of that performance can be heard on Dawn.com

There was no looking back for them once their album was launched. They’ve managed to garner international acclaim for music, have taken out a highly talked-about video of Aietebaar directed by Saqib Malik, and are invited to perform regularly. Their most recent performance at a fusion music show, showcasing a rubab player flown in from the NWFP for their Pushto/Darri/ Farsi song Paimona, seems to display a whole new side to their music that is absolutely heart-warming to say the least.

– Photo by Rizwan-ul-Haq

Haute revoltion

Although one arrived well on time for the show, the venue was packed with attendees to the point that quite a few had to stand and watch the show and nobody seemed to be having a problem with it. This was a debutant show of a new designer, someone who has been quietly working for the past two years generating a modest buzz now and then, and nobody wanted to miss what the one of the upholders of the future of the fashion industry was going to be like.

The event which was done by Wow Events carried their signature minimalistic, playing-with-white simplicity which has almost always worked since this helps in bringing out the models and the outfits on the ramp with their impeccable lighting for their fashion shows. The ramp, which was of medium length had a large revolving door in the beginning of it which set the stage from where the models would enter. Each section of the revolving door had something to it, whether it was all mirrors giving a three-fold reflection of the model or a larger-than-life chair or a side kept plain and simple. Each model would pose in her section, the viewer would get a full-glimpse of her first as the door revolved and in the second cycle, she would get off the door and walk down the ramp. Simple, yet innovative, even the choreography was done by Nida Azwer, the designer herself.

The show was pleasantly free corporate sponsorship or the hoopla that preceeds sponsored shows, in order to communicate the brand ‘creatively’ to the audience,  this was entirely for the designer by the designer, so to speak. Her models walked down the ramp in traditional eastern garments with a refreshingly modern touch to them, and not just in terms of embroidery, but also in choice of colour combination, cuts, and the designers knack for creating bold border – whether through embroidery, skillfully cut-out designed edges or in her choice of using a different coloured, designed fabric to don the border with.  Even halfway during the show it became apparent that this designer is someone out of the norm. Her work, which was a unique, yet tasteful blend of cuts and traditional styles brought skillfully to the modern era.

They say a collection is a success if you can pick out at least 50 per cent of the outfits as being sure winners.  Keeping in mind Nida Azwers’ prêt, couture and bridal collection – all of them together – it’s hard to pick out just one or two outfits that stood out, an overwhelming majority of her collection was delightfully exquisite and tastefully elegant.  From her signature use of the izar pants – which she claims she gets from her grandmother who used to wear them a lot – to her unique use of the gara embroidery on her clothes, this designer’s collection conformed to the current trends predominant in the industry (long, peshwas style shirts, fitted and flowing pants etc) and yet stood out in the manner in which she chose to translate those trends. Her colour palette was predominantly composed of white, cream, bronze, blue, turquoise pink, orange and red.

So what is the essence of this designer? Some time ago, an fashion industry person had referred to her following the style of Bunto Kazmi in her designs. Where Nida Azwer is traditional in that she chooses to design eastern-wear, uses a decent amount of embroidery, and seems to have an inherent love for gara embroidery, she may be looking towards refining her skills and evolving in the more ethnic, indigenous or rather be conventionally traditional style of fashion, but what sets her apart is the uniquely modern way in which she choses to translate that same tradition. One can’t say for sure if she is the next Bunto Kazmi, it’s too early to say, but one can say for sure that if she continues at the rate and the direction that she has shown in this show, she might carve out a whole new genre for herself.

There is no doubt about the fact that this designer is a much-needed breath of fresh air. One only hopes that she may be able to follow up on her subsequent collection with just as much panache and style as she has this one – and will hopefully not fall into a ‘mould’ most people who garner appreciation quite early end up getting into. Marked with the fact that this designer at least, seems to be thinking out the moves she is making in the industry (she waited two years before showing) and in her career, one is optimistic that this designer may be the spark that won’t die out anytime soon.

Ganderi it is

“He looks just like Ali Noor’s younger version but sings just like Adam Levine from Maroon5”, said Mekaal Hasan, from the Mekaal Hasan Band (MHB) and owner/producer at Digital Fidelity Studios (DFS) in Lahore during my last trip there, “… and (therefore) we refer to him as Haroon5”. That is the introduction I got to Haroon Shahid, an upcoming musician/singer/songwriter from Lahore who seemed to be quite popular in both the underground and mainstream musician circuit.

For me it all started with Haroon over a music competition happening at the Peeru’s café in Lahore called “Rock Club”. The objective of Rock Club was to audition underground bands till on the final night, the judge and the audience would pick out one sure winner. It sound simple… but it wasn’t quite. The prize for the winning band was a budget in which they could either get their album recorded, their video shot or they could buy new equipment. For an upcoming band, to get the budget to do anything is a huge deal.

Haroon Shahid’s band, Simt, was in the top three. His own original song, Pyaar Di Ganderi (“I like to call it The Sugarcane of Love,” joked Haroon) was infectious, appealed to the naughty kid in all of us and, not surprisingly, was a hit with the audience.

What was perhaps most interesting to note was that the mainstream musician community seemed to show just as much of an interest in Rock Club as the underground artistes. Most of them could be seen attending the shows, and post-show discussions on the band’s music abilities would ensue. Being in Lahore at that time, I can vouch for the fact that I have never felt such an intense atmosphere around a competition. Everyone waited for the final result with baited breaths.

Haroon seemed nervous and yet fairly confident in his abilities as a musician. He was very clear about the kind of sound he wanted from their performances. According to a mutual acquaintance he worked really hard on his vocals and Haroon confessed to taking tips from MHB’s Jawaid Bashir on singing as well. Because I had not been there for the previous shows, the organizer had shown me a video of his performance, when Haroon found out during one of the post-show sessions, this is how our conversation went:

Haroon: so what did you think?
Madeeha: [is silent. Doesn’t know whether to blurt out her opinion or save for writing it later on. ]
Haroon: what? You didn’t like it?!
Madeeha: [is still silent.]
Haroon: How can you not like it?!
Madeeha: [is amused and silent… for the heck of it now.]
Haroon: you know what?! I DON’T CARE if you like it. I know it was good.

At this point, the organizer (who was a psychology major) laughed out and commented how she saw shock, denial and post-shock anger all in one minute! I had to leave the night before the show, but was told later on that Simt won the competition.

He later came to Karachi for several months because as a contestant of Pakistan Sangeet – his rocked-out performance of Noori’s Kuttay (Te Tho Utthay) both shocked and entertained the audience and remains to be a memorable performance from the show. During an open-mic gig at The Second Floor (T2F), after much persuasion on my part, he sang the live version of Pyaar Di Ganderi (along with Sunday Morning by Maroon5) which not only invited amused giggles from the audience, but had people humming Ganderi long after it was over. He is currently back in Lahore and in the studio, working on his debut album.

[Dawn Blog entry #2] Backstage Access: The mad genius of Aamir Zaki

The mad genius of Aamir Zaki
Madeeha Syed revisits her interactions with one of Pakistan’s best guitarists.

They say he is one of the greatest minds that the Pakistani music industry has ever harboured, that his talent knows no bounds. Speaking his name inspires awe from those who have only heard of him and an acknowledgement of his music virtuosity from his contemporaries. ‘I am somewhat of a genius,’ he had once said to me about himself.