Sunday, March 18, 2007
Tonight!
Update: What, nobody recognises 'RussellPetersLiveInDubai'? Enlighten yourself here, and do come back later for the update on the evening...
Thursday, March 15, 2007
All that jazz...
The first thing you notice about Jamie Cullum, jazz wunderkind, is that he’s in dire need of a hair trim. For the first few minutes after he bursts forth on stage, belting out a single in his throaty voice, you can't help being distracted by the shaggy lock that hangs over his left eye almost until his chin. It stays in the way until he flicks it to the right. But the next moment, the drums roll, and his head follows. And follicular folly is back to veil his boyish face.
Jamie Cullum was the closing act of the scintillating 3-day Dubai International Jazz Festival. The acts which preceded him were big names, cool names – Acoustic Alchemy, Robin McKelle, Toto, 3 Ladies of Jazz, Freddy Cole. But in terms of sheer energy, entertainment and electricity, Jamie was unequalled. He not only played the grand piano, he drummed on the cover, and then leaped on top of the piano as the crowds gasped. He divided the audience into bass and tenor saxophone and gave each section a bar to sing. He was appreciative of the efforts – “I like the way you guys sacrifice pitch for volume.” He made everyone hold up and wave their cell phones with the screen glowing. He had everyone in splits when he crooned Justin Timberlake’s ‘Sexy Back’ and ‘Don’t Cha’ by the Pussycat Dolls, adding for effect, “Don cha wish your boyfriend was short like me.”
The crowd was putty in the hands of the pint-sized entertainer. But it could also have been the effect of the copious amount of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay swirling and sloshing in people’s veins. The inky blue backdrop strung with fairy lights and swaying lazily in the breeze took on the notion of a starlit sky, adding to the mesmerism of the moment.
The mildly discordant note in the whole evening – the serpentine queues outside the women’s room, and the enviable absence of them outside the men’s. Naturally the latter couldn’t stop gloating. More than one of them stepped out with an empty bladder and smug smile saying, "Isn’t it good to be a man".
Still, it was a minor quibble, when compared to the seamless organization all through the evening. And when pitted against the fact that one had free passes to the whole show including access to the Skywards Lounge, well, then, there was no complaint at all.
Monday, March 12, 2007
And the winner is...
Wang dropped by during lunch hour today with his familiar suitcase-on-wheels. Wang's the neighbourhood DVD pirate, and with Oscarmania in the air, has made quite a killing.
"Goot movie", he mumbles encouragingly, "very goot print..." Wang's a gentleman pirate. Not only can you check the DVD quality on an office computer before making your purchase, but you can also demand an exchange if it turns out to be a dodgy print. He'll also conscientiously tell you if a movie is a "cinema print" or a "goot deeveedee copy" so that you can steer clear of the former.
If not for the fact that he was robbing them of their bloated revenues, Hollywood would have loved Wang. He promotes a Steven Seagal with as much exuberance as a Stephen Spielberg. "Very beeg movie. Everyone likes," he says for every other DVD, almost keeling over with excitement. And you can never catch him saying he doesn't have a movie, even if you're almost sure he's never heard of it.
I asked him today, "Wang, do you have Big Fish?"
"Beeg Feesh?" he echoed. His eyeballs zigzagged in their sockets as he considered my query. As his frown deepened, his eyes almost vanished into his cheekbones.
"Ah-ha!" His face lit up like a lightbulb, and he nodded furiously. He wriggled past those thumbing through his DVDs and bent over his suitcase. He rifled through a dozen or more, before turning around triumphantly, flashing his crooked teeth.
"Here Beeg Feesh," he said, handing me a print of Jaws.
"Goot movie", he mumbles encouragingly, "very goot print..." Wang's a gentleman pirate. Not only can you check the DVD quality on an office computer before making your purchase, but you can also demand an exchange if it turns out to be a dodgy print. He'll also conscientiously tell you if a movie is a "cinema print" or a "goot deeveedee copy" so that you can steer clear of the former.
If not for the fact that he was robbing them of their bloated revenues, Hollywood would have loved Wang. He promotes a Steven Seagal with as much exuberance as a Stephen Spielberg. "Very beeg movie. Everyone likes," he says for every other DVD, almost keeling over with excitement. And you can never catch him saying he doesn't have a movie, even if you're almost sure he's never heard of it.
I asked him today, "Wang, do you have Big Fish?"
"Beeg Feesh?" he echoed. His eyeballs zigzagged in their sockets as he considered my query. As his frown deepened, his eyes almost vanished into his cheekbones.
"Ah-ha!" His face lit up like a lightbulb, and he nodded furiously. He wriggled past those thumbing through his DVDs and bent over his suitcase. He rifled through a dozen or more, before turning around triumphantly, flashing his crooked teeth.
"Here Beeg Feesh," he said, handing me a print of Jaws.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Paradox
Sitting down to write is tough, these days. But there's something else that's a lot more difficult... not writing.
I'll be back, soon.
P.S. Thanks for all your comments.
I'll be back, soon.
P.S. Thanks for all your comments.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)