Virtuosity - musical or marketing?

My fortune cookie says that my ideals are well within reach, and given Dr. D-uh's confident response to my worried logistic query about getting to the South Bank from Chinatown, "15 minutes at the very least and 20 if we walk fast.....", its just as well!! (huh?!?! and this is LSE's finest....!). Oddly, as it turns out, 15 minutes is what it took, and we weren't even out of breath, so conceivably, if we had been, it might have taken us 20 minutes????
Trilok Gurtu, percussion hero, spawn of the legendary Shoba Gurtu. Unlike Somya who was rather moved by the fact that I was going to watch the man, I had never listened to his work, despite fancying myself as a thwarted percussionist, when I am so reminded, as I was this evening. While Aashish is picking himself up off the floor, let me tell you, I take pride in having been part of the school orchestra (OK, so perhaps we were more of a band...), when I was 5, with the profound responsibility of the triangle. You scoff? A triangle, but for it's shape, would be the cornerstone of percussive melody. Furthermore, I even had sheet music for my instrument! It takes talent and dedication to bear the weight of such immense duty, and regretfully, I was more inclined sit in a cardboard box and sail around the world than to practise 6 hours a day. Alas! Had I only pursued my classical training on the triangle more seriously, it would have been Guhakar and not Gurtu at the receiving end of the standing ovation. Siigh, another glorious career nipped in the bud!
Trilok did however, have the audience eating out of his hand. Wolf whistles, thunderous applause and a standing ovation. Perhaps I'm being too cynical, but tonight's concert seemed to me, to be an affirmation of the victory of style over substance. It was Gurtu with the Arkè string quartet (who incidentally, were fabulous!). Double bass, viola and two violins and some exquisite compositions. Fes by Carlo Cantini was haunting and pure sensation, especially with Valentino's mellifluous calling. Trilok on the other hand, reminded me of a sound stage. Some interesting use of percussion that you'd expect as part of a film; the rushing of wind, the early noises of dawn mingled with chanting was rather hypnotic, but then degenerated into cats squabbling on metal trash cans. Or it could simply be that my jazz ear is severely underdeveloped and I suffer from a deep seated jealousy of any percussionist success. He is a star, and not just because of his pedigree. London loved him. I thought Arkè made him better than he was. He has some charisma, his humour predictable - not that you'd guess from the squeals of the crowd lapping it up..., but perhaps I'm just too jaded (and possibly too much of a Zakir groupie, and a fan of other masters like Vikku Vinayak and Vijay Ghate), but talent? I thought he was mediocre. Didn't stop me from getting drawn into the encore finale with great enthusiasm, but tabla calling (or any kind actually) has always been one of my weaknesses, along with a good jugalbandi, and well, this one was enervating... but no better than so many others I've seen. As a percussionist, he was ordinary. If I was impressed, it was with his unique ability to have each of his appendages follow a different rhythm without faltering. Right hand beating a tattoo on the tabla while the left whispers over a snag drum, the right foot thumping a steady beat, while the left jingles, each unique, culminating into a seamless flow. I'm impressed, even as my brain tells me I can play the piano with both hands doing different things and a foot marking emphasis.
Guess nepotism is alive and well in the desi gharanas... the only progeny that I've seen who surpassed their guru and parent, has been Zakir (eventually grudgingly admitted to by Ma), and all the others have been, well, merely fortunate to have been born to talent. Norah Jones as well, but under her own steam. Daddy darling was too busy being infatuated by his Veena player and then promoting his less talented celebrity bitiya, as have so many other greats. Such a shame, that we are willing to forsake the truly talented for blood. A cliché, and somehow unworthy of the legendary tradition of the gharanas. Still, Arkè were fantastic (even when they were percussion to Gurtu's solo grandstanding, I'd have rather enjoyed their plucking, beating and thrumming to Gurtu's frenetic rendition) and it's been a while since I've enjoyed a live performance of fusion, and there is much pleasure in being part of such an interactive evening, even just watching them play off each other, and their obvious contentment and joy with their art. Well deserving of two big, fat scoops (that boy behind the counter was most obliging of my entreaty) of chocolate ice cream to celebrate a sense of accomplishment! The perfect end to a glorious day.
My aching legs strongly suggest I've walked off the ice cream (wonder how far it is from the South Bank to home). Hang on - that can't be right 3.98 miles??? I walked 3.98 miles???? Actually, I would have walked 4 - it's got to be 200 metres from the tube station! Sheesh!! If only I had known then what I know now! Unnecessary bravado perhaps, but it seemed inappropriate to end the evening with public transport instead of the serene sight of boats moored along the banks, the water a sheet of glass mirroring the hushed affluence of the mansions overlooking the canal. I shall console myself for my Englishness of the evening by devouring some more calories (which brings to mind the Tiramisu that Sofra, St. Chris, brings on as dessert - it's humongous!! Big enough to feed a family of four, for a week. Photographic evidence shows it as bigger than Liz's face, and the response to that particular stimulus is an open mouth gape by all who view it. I ate all of mine).
Incidentally, I'm super impressed by the nnnnnwwwww nnnnnwwwww light sabre sound the iPhone is capable of - talk of an übercool way to cut a swathe through the rush hour crowd! I know I am a nerd. I'd like to think it was being married to one for 11 years that turned me into this, but..... as far as weaponry goes, that would be a lie. But my thrill with the neat virtual lighter where the flame flickers when you blow..... that one has got to be proximity to nerd ex (the man takes photographs of the various screens with the phone's camera and flaunts it!!). God, I am such a nerd!! I shall console myself with the 5th highest score on my first try (after a late start coz Dr. D-uh very deliberately neglected to inform me there were points to be had!) at the bubble wrap burst. Let's just chalk this one down to an appreciation of brilliant integration of faltu technology and innovative design....