Listening Camera - A Black and White Memoir of Jazz Moments

The genius of jazz lies in its spontaneity and rebellious spirit; so can a photograph honestly frame this ephemeral music?

As his lens travelled back stage and up-close, between wires and sound-systems and even into private jam sessions – to Philadelphia, New York, Berlin, San Francisco and then closer home to Mumbai and Chennai - Navroze Contractor made this possible.  

Over decades he captured impromptu jazz moments; inevitably constructing a series called ‘Listening Camera.’

The beauty of his photography lies in its rawness, sense of movement and rapture that typifies Jazz. Each photograph becomes a musical tableaux - one can hear Sonny Rollins play the Freedom Suite and Stan Getz’s commendable ‘Cool Jazz.’ As one travels from one image to the next, one piece ends and another begins.

A Keith Jarrett is literally off his seat; lost to the world as he hits a chord on his electric piano; a dashing Louis Banks sits at a desk with his back to the camera;  as his portrait hangs above – creating a surreal duality.

Listening camera becomes an enthralling journey into a past that seems more alive than the present. 

Kiska Ravan?

Vodafone sends me a Dusshera message: Burai par acchai Ki jeet! Dusshera lata hai ek ummeed, Ravan ki tarah hamare dukhon ka ant ho. Ek nayi shuruat spl. msgs & logos ke saath. SMS DUS to51515@Rs3/SMS

Today, the image-making of the villain is a highly manufactured socio-political enterprise. This message of the triumph of good over evil has been abused to spread hatred and create a rift between communities. The question here is - who is being labelled evil? And why?

Until today I had never watched Ravan burning. This year I decided to become a spectator in the Dusshera celebrations. To many in the city, this event has become nothing more than ‘an inconvenience’. It simply means more traffic, more smoke and more noise.

We literally followed the fire-works and the crowds to reach the site. The lane adjacent to the maidan was overflowing with people, children selling heart-shaped balloons and hand-carts displaying bright bow and arrow sets and Hanuman’s gada. It was impossible to enter the gateway.

Young men stood on traffic islands, children sat on car bonnets or on their father’s shoulders. Grandmothers chatted with their neighbours and relatives. They seemed oblivious of the blaring traffic and the DTC bus that was trying to get past them.

The crackling loudspeakers invited BJP leaders on stage between powerful dialogues threatening Ravan to prepare for his death. Calls of Shri Ram Ki Jai! rang through the crowd. A child was reported missing. Visitors were asked to remain calm and avoid climbing the walls to enter the maidan. Ravan stood tall - overpowering yet silent; his tummy stuffed with explosives.

Was it just me feeling a fundamentalist vibe in the air? or was this all just harmless festivity?

While hearing repeated chants celebrating Ram’s greatness; I couldn’t help wondering - What of Sita being rejected and punished for her ‘impurity’? And what about the disfigured Shoorpanakha? Where is Ravan – the scholar, the follower of Shiva, the gifted ruler?