M. F. Husain, one of India's most renowned artists, just fetched a record price of $1.6 million for one of his paintings at a Christie's auction in NYC. Meanwhile, protesters gathered outside asking that the auction be canceled. Conservative Hindu groups oppose Husain's having painted Indian goddesses in the nude. The 89-year-old maverick, who has made two Bollywood films (neither of which were successful), nearly had paintings seized last year in Bombay as a result of the discontent. One of India's eminent artists, Husain is currently believed to be living in the Middle East. [BBC]
Lots of design- and style-oriented blogs are available to praise the cool lilypad-like lines of the recently opened Blue Frog Lounge, a club-restaurant and sound studio near Mumbai's Phoenix Mills shopping complex. It's certainly swoopy and designed within an inch of its life. But it's hard to find any info on whether or not it's actually got any acts worth seeing or food worth eating. Until the high-living public weighs in, you might have to just be happy appreciating it as stylish eye-candy. [Cool Hunter]
British thespians and Bollywood fans alike will be happy to know that the UK's first Bollywood acting school is slated to open in London this September. The sister school to Mumbai's Actor Prepares academy (which also has an outpost based in Ealing) will open in partnership with the urban-renewal group Heathrow City Partnership. Future schools are also planned for Durban and Sydney. [BBC]
"This will show that bitch Angelina Jolie," Madonna did not say to reporters. She actually did not speak to anyone or even explain why she and husband Guy Ritchie were touring the Mumbai slums today.
Dharavi is a Mumbai shantytown that's reputed to be Asia's largest slum. According to the Economist, it's home to over one million residents who share a cramped square mile with factories, raw sewage, Communists, and a nightly rodent orgy. [Economist]
It's an exciting time to be a wine-drinker in India. New Indian wine labels seem to be popping up almost weekly, and existing wines are still improving. But drinking in India is not that common to start with, and those who drink tend to stick with whisky or beer. To help the spendier-by-every-day middle class see how they could put a little wine in their life, the winery Chateau Indage plans on opening as many as a thousand wine bars to showcase imported wines as well as their own. One of the first, Ivy Bar & Bistro (82 Dr. Annie Besant Road, 22/6654--7939), is set in a construction- and mall-filled south part of Mumbai -- a city that already accounts for some 40% of all wine drunk in India.
Great article in the International Herald Tribune about the Pushpak Express, a train that brings poor migrant workers from central India to Mumbai. A sealed-off series of cars on the 24-hour route, third class passengers mix with vendors, beggars, and the odd transsexual in a "last hurrah" of village collective congeniality before the big city absorbs them all. [IHT]
Bad Directions is a good new startup blog covering Mumbai dining -- kind of like the local version of Chowhound. They're just beginning, but early posts (like one on an example of Mumbai's finer Chinese) are promising. Needs more photos like any foodblog, but worth a look.
Buzzfeed notes a new trend among Asian nightlife establishments: the medical theme. First is Taipei's inscrutably named DS Music Restaurant, where staff are dressed as doctors and nurses, and beer is available via an "IV drip" that hangs on a pole next to your table. Singapore ups the ante considerably with the enormous entertainment and eat-o-plex called the Clinic, a 13-room, 15,000-square-foot monstrosity divided into two bars, two clubs, and a restaurant. Several of the Clinic's spaces are given over to "concept rooms" featuring art and furnishings geared to particular themes ("couples" or "caffeine" among others); the restaurant, which sports golden wheelchairs as seating, specializes in madfood science (or "molecular gastronomy") like the kind popular in Spain and Chicago's Moto.
Traveling alone in an unfamiliar country can be a challenge for anyone, but the experience is especially interesting for women. We have to worry about gawkers, whistlers, creeps at bars, and all kinds of nefarious characters of the night. We of course also need to get regular manicures, bikini waxes, and eyebrow plucks (or maybe that's just me). We've scoured information about top destinations to find points of interest for you ladies, and we'll begin with the city of Mumbai. There are about 800 females to every 1,000 males in Mumbai, and it used to be taboo for women to even go out in public without a male escort. Now, you'll still get stares every once in awhile, but it's completely normal for women to be seen alone at restaurants, bazaars, and bars. After the jump, we have a few suggestions for women interested in exploring Mumbai sans dudes.
Gutting Culture & Travel for all its worth (it's free), here's a list of Chef Floyd Cardoz's favorite Mumbai restaurants. Chef Cardoz is the exec. chef at Manhattan's Tabla, where dudes who want to bang chicks take the chicks they wanna bang.
Liz Hurley's wedding to Indian textile businessman Arun Nayar may not be until March, but those lucky few who have been invited may do well to get their planning done ASAP. After a first wedding in boring old Sudeley Castle in the Cotswolds, it's off to India. The second wedding, a six-day affair, will be held in Mumbai and at either the Devi Garh Fort Palace or the Umaid Bhavan Palace, both of which are in Rajastan. Either way, activities are supposedly planned for the whole time. No skipping off to any craft shops or hotel bars on your own, you movie stars.
The bride will be wearing a pink sari, and so will all the other ladies. "Pink! Saris! For! All!" states the very specific info pack that came with the invitation (well, it probably doesn't state it in exactly that way). As for the guys they have to wear turbans and orange kurta pyjamas (long, baggy shirts with leggings).
There is some help for this implied shopping dilemma, since Liz Hurley has set up her own clothing store for her peeps at the hotel in Mumbai. "Please don't panic, all Indian clothes can be bought when you arrive in India, where they will be much nicer," the invitation supposedly says, and with the groom in the schmatte business, we're sure Liz is right. Somewhat more hilariously, the guests have been told to pack mosquito repellent (easy to get in India) and a travel iron (Is Posh Spice really going to be spending her days in India figuring out how to get wrinkles out of Becks' turban?)
Mother and child at emergency feeding center in Niger (pic above), a naked girl running after a napalm attack in Vietnam; a Buddhist monk who has set himself alight; a sole demonstrator standing in front of tanks on Tiananmen Square; a veiled woman mourning after a massacre in Algeria; these are just a few of the photos displayed by the World Press Photo exhibition that have captured a moving and movingly beautiful reality. An independent nonprofit organisation founded in 1955, the aim of World Press Photo is to support and promote internationally the work of professional press photographers. This year 4,448 professional photojournalists from 122 countries participated with a total of 83,044 images. Photos selected by a jury of 12 well-known photoeditors and photographers can be viewed until December 30 at the Indian Express Towers at Nariman Point in Mumbai. Next year the exhibition will travel to Italy, Israel, Germany, Brasil, USA, Albania and Netherlands within the first two months, the full schedule can be found here.
Even if you aren't trying to dance on top of them, as in the classic opening number of the Bollywood flick Dil Se, riding on an Indian train can be a challenge. First there are the bewildering number of classes -- seven or eight or nine, depending on who's counting. Then there are the many, many different types of trains you can take, from local ones to overnight trains covering massive distances.
But of course there is help. The good folks at the discussion forum Indiamike have compiled a 80-odd page document with the knowledge and tips gained through the "missed trains, obtuse bureaucracy . . . and sometimes serendipitous discoveries" that make train travel in India so fun -- and exasperating.
One major water-cooler topic in India right now is the potential marriage between two major Bollywood stars, the stupendously beautiful Aishwarya Rai and not-so-bad-himself Abhishek Bachchan. [For non-Bollywood fans, Aishwarya may be best known for her role in Bride and Prejudice. As for Abhishek, he's doubly famous, since his father is Amitabh (AKA "Big B"), the biggest star in Bollywood for the past several decades.]
Although rumors of an Ash-Abh wedding have been going on for at least several months, the story heated up over the weekend, when Ash was seen in Varanasi with the Bachchans, visiting a couple temples. At first, there was hysteria that they were getting married that very day, but now it seems as if they were performing pujas (rituals) that might help compensate for some mis-aligned stars: Ash and Ab's horoscopes might signal a poor match.
If you're headed to India, then one of your just about mandatory buys should be fabric of any and all types. Good Earth's flagship store, in Mumbai's Raghuvanshi Mills compound, fills its 20,000 square feet with rugs, tablecloths, and curtains, but also dishes, flatware, beauty products, and just about anything else gifty and colorful (it is India, after all). Founded by the socialite Anita Lal, the store thoughtfully includes a wine and snack bar for those who are able to think about curtains only after having had a couple of belts. In addition to the main store, there are also two branches in New Delhi.
There's something a bit sordid about well-heeled tourists gawking at the world's poor through the tinted glass of a tour bus or the digital screen of a camcorder. "Oh look," a cardiologist murmurs to his peroxide-blond wife, "the little guy have a house out of aluminum!" "Darling! Simply darling! There truly is some sort of ascetic joy to be found in penury." Riddled not so much with schadenfruede as with the self-deluding patronization, the trips promise to show the "humor, enterprise and non-stop activity" of slum life. These sort of tours have popped up in most cities that have them. Sao Paolo, Rio, Delhi, Soweto, all have some permutation of the haves gawking at the have-nots. Even Rotterdam has a tour of the minority ghettoes called City Safari. The Economist Cities Guide just featured a new tour of the slums of Mumbai called "Reality Tours." The Tour company, led by an UK expat, takes tourists into the heart of the Dharavi slum and donates 80% of its proceeds to NGOs. Though this may assuage some guilt, it is a fine line between exploitation and exploration and 80% of a $7 tour, might just not be enough to justify ogling the slum's adorably filthy ragamuffin rapscallions.
At a new restaurant in Mumbai, it's fine to mention the war. With a name like Hitler's Cross and a large portrait of glum Adolf out front, it just might be impossible not to. The restaurant opened last week, attracting at least a smattering of politicos and Bollywood actors to check out its Fuehrerific color scheme and continental food.
And what's with the name? The owner just wanted a little attention. "We wanted to be different. This is one name that will stay in people's minds. . . . We are not promoting Hitler. But we want to tell people we are different in the way he was different." (Hmmmm. . . .)
Greetings from India, where I'm filling in for your usual hosts on this holiday Monday. I've been living in Bangalore for five months, and while it hasn't been the endless Miami-esque carnival that the New York Times seems to think it is, the place has been mind-blowing in many other ways.
My visa expires any second, so tonight I'm flying out of town, on to Bangkok, to get a little bit of the nightlife and glitz that Bangalore conspicuously lacks (11:30 bar times will do that to you). And from there back to the U.S.
As you'd expect, I'm taking back a bunch of presents to friends and family, but with so much travel, they have to be small. But cool. After the jump, a few fun, portable things worth finding some room for.
Almost passed over this New York Times article on the annual mango frenzy in Mumbai, but then nearly spit out my coffee when I got to local wine critic Deepanjana Pal's description on the proper way to eat a mango:
She first holds out a cupped hand, in which sits the imaginary glistening orange oval of a whole peeled mango; she then deftly flicks her hand at the wrist to propel the phantom mango against her mouth, which gets busy sucking the flesh down to the seed; finally, outrageously, she deploys the full length of her tongue to lick her arm, elbow to wrist, to recapture an inevitable trickle of invisible mango juice. ... "That," she says after a long moment's rapture with a fruit that's not even there, "is the best bit." She goes on to speculate that there is something alchemical in the mingling of sweetest mango juice with a salty sheen of sweat.
Let's all fan ourselves to ward off the imaginary steaminess, shall we? And don't forget the comic follow-up:
(Later, a local driver reacted with horror to the mime. "So you don't eat them like that?" I ask. "Well yes, at home, of course," he says. "But not in the streets! People will think that's where you live.")
Sepia Mutiny brings us an all-around, from the beach to the coffee house, photo tour of Mumbai. Thrill to the auto-rickshaw drivers. Dig the kooky architecture. Discover Heinz's 57 flavors of chutney. See the boats on the tidal flats. Stare in awe at the sexual entendre ice cream ads. Wonder when Gold's Gym opened an Indian franchise. In any case, it's all here.
Here's an excellent photo-packed post about Dharavi, the biggest of several gigantic slums in Mumbai, and supposedly the largest in Asia. Holding well over a million people packed onto less than two-thirds of a square mile, Dharavi is a hive of unregulated economic activity -- everything from low-tech recycling (i.e. melting plastic) to soap factories to tanneries. Photoblogger Akshay covers a lot of ground and gets tons of good shots of daily Dharavi life. Be sure to sift through the archives for other great pics and posts about Mumbai and environs.
Suketu Mehta'sMaximum City: Bombay Lost and Found is one of the better books I've read in awhile, and it may be the best love letter to a city I've ever read. This is by no means an easy kind of love, either -- Mehta's Bombay (he's not fond of calling it Mumbai) is massively filthy, violent, corrupt, hidebound, repressive, and a dozen other negatives, all to the max. But this Bombay is also much more vital and alive than many more peaceful metropoli. It really is a maximum city. The book has been on my to-do list since it came out in 2004 (and was a finalist for the Pulitzer), and it went to paperback late last year. One of the most riveting passages is the long section where Mehta explores Bombay's underworld through the eyes of good cops, bad cops, entrepreneurial gangsters, and cold-blooded killers, all of whom open up to him with an alarming frankness. Living in this Bombay would probably break my puny Western spirit, given the limitless reserves of patience and fortitude it requires just to get drinkable water (much less an apartment) at any price. Highly recommended.
Rebecca Milner, a Gridskipper reader who attended the recent India Fashion Week in Mumbai sent in a report from the trenches. Mumbai's the fashion capital of the subcontinent and functions nicely as a Indian version of how New York/London/Paris/Milan works for their respective countries... But despite India being somewhat more culturally conservative than the United States, we are talking about a fashion show after all. The Hindustan Times' Vijay Arora was scandalized by one model: "What was indecent though was model Ajay Balhara giving a show of his pubic hair with real low-slung golden G-strings. Disgusting!!!" But as for the girls.. Topless models and "wardrobe malfunctions" after the jump:
Time to rundown accumulated news from the Metroblogging universe. In addition to launching five new cityblogs since last time I made the rounds -- Dublin, Mumbai, Paris, and Singapore, respectively -- they've also rolled out a vastly improved network-wide redesign. (I know our institutional-blue color scheme around here doesn't give me much room to criticize, but that never stopped me before.) Visually, the old design had the serviceable, workaday look of a delivery truck, with about as much aesthetic appeal. The new design is still pretty open, but it cuts down on clutter and cleans up the bloggish elements, while offering more space and focus for images. Usability tweaks on the posts and sidebar enhancements also make the sites look much more "pro" than in the past. Looks like their working on integrating Flickr into all the blogs as well, which should add even more welcome eyeball kick.
The February issue of Pology is online with its usual fine assortment of travel essays and photos. More backcountry than urban material as per usual, but still a good essay on cricket in Mumbai and a cool, short London photo gallery. Recommended, as always.
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