God is in the small things. In the smile of a new-born baby and in the gaze of my grandmother whose face is lined with a smile. I can’t see God everywhere. I feel Her in spaces small and large.
What stops us from being sexy, as well as religious; materialistic, as well as spiritual; happy, as well as sad? We’ve forgotten that our Gods, Rama and Krishna, were princes and wealthy. They lived in luxury and their women, Sita, Kausalya, and Urmila were regal. Jewels, personal maids, expensive wardrobes and luxe living surrounded them. Ayodhya was a kingdom encouraging masculinity and war; Mithila, Sita’s home, encouraged education, world philosophy and equality between the sexes.
We can hold on to faith and still live in luxury. We have a warped notion of spirituality and truth as being states of deprivation. In a society that’s aspirational, like middle-class India, one is seemingly from the West (material wealth) and the other homegrown (spirituality). We’re caught in this mire and coagulated confusion.
Hanuman on my crotch makes me uncomfortable. Maybe Durga on my kurta or my sari pallu works for me. My body is my personal space and even God doesn’t need to validate my sexuality. To be open to adventure, to hold on to the bubble of laughter; never to despair and to remember anger and darkness — these are emotions cut from the same cloth from which beauty and harmony are woven. To be conscious of my breath and the feel of my feet on the pavement anywhere in the world.
To be happy means that one has to also experience unhappiness. I can’t be happy anywhere like the yogis and gurus. I need my home, room, garden and rhythm to find my inner flame. I’m easily distracted and need to consciously focus and withdraw from external stimuli to remember that I have every right to be happy every minute of my life.
Times of India, May 14, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Sisters of Imelda
What comes to mind when you think of the Phillipines? President Marcos of course. More precisely, Imelda Marcos and her famous penchant for extravagant retail therapy. I had a chance to meet a Marcos sibling and 14 of her very powerful friends during their recent tour of South India. The head of the country’s departments of Ballet, Music, publishing, education, textile design, museums and real estate were on a two week tour of South India. Mostly women and very very ‘uppah’ class, the luxury tour took them to temples, ayurvedic resorts, textile weaving units- all along staying inside their five star membranes.
Their last two days brought them to Chennai and I had been requested three months in advance to be their window to the city. I had been repeatedly warned not to take them to any plebian outlet since their tastes were “very very high end”. With a prepared list of shops to help our local economy, I met them at the lobby of a local five star hotel. Immediately, all fifteen faces had one mantra on their lips. “Shop. We want to shop! Can we hit the stores now?”
Aah! The magic of retail therapy for women throughout the world. And shop they did. Up and down Khader Nawaz Khan Road, buying all that fit their petite frames. I heard OOHS and AAHS from fitting rooms and the plastic was repeatedly swiped in store after store. A private showing of antique jewellery was another source of much amazement and bargaining. Lunch at Amethyst turned out to be another spree for gifts and all the store owners were left reeling in delight with the Asian typhoon that swept through their shops. Incidentally, Irene Marcos was the most frugal, belying all expectations of her famous mother.
The group spoke about the vanishing of traditional Phillipine textiles and their cultural nuances with globalization and marveled at how Indian designers managed to navigate the fine lines of commerce and market demands. The enormous butterfly shoulders of their national costume, popularized by Imelda Marcos, had all but vanished from the Phillipine landscape and local weaving and crafts were also being threatened by cheap Chinese imports. One gentleman was specially interested in the connection between pre Christian Phillipines and South India during the time of the Pandya and Chola rule. Over a quiet dinner, they listened to guitarist Vedanth Bharadwaj singing songs of Kabir and Mirabai. Teenage Bharatanatyam dancer Sudarma Vaidyanathan dazzled and our famous curd rice with pickles closed out the evening as the favourite food.
So who said power women were not like you and me? Shopping, bargains, jewellery, kids and home food. For this high powered group, nothing was lost in translation!
Their last two days brought them to Chennai and I had been requested three months in advance to be their window to the city. I had been repeatedly warned not to take them to any plebian outlet since their tastes were “very very high end”. With a prepared list of shops to help our local economy, I met them at the lobby of a local five star hotel. Immediately, all fifteen faces had one mantra on their lips. “Shop. We want to shop! Can we hit the stores now?”
Aah! The magic of retail therapy for women throughout the world. And shop they did. Up and down Khader Nawaz Khan Road, buying all that fit their petite frames. I heard OOHS and AAHS from fitting rooms and the plastic was repeatedly swiped in store after store. A private showing of antique jewellery was another source of much amazement and bargaining. Lunch at Amethyst turned out to be another spree for gifts and all the store owners were left reeling in delight with the Asian typhoon that swept through their shops. Incidentally, Irene Marcos was the most frugal, belying all expectations of her famous mother.
The group spoke about the vanishing of traditional Phillipine textiles and their cultural nuances with globalization and marveled at how Indian designers managed to navigate the fine lines of commerce and market demands. The enormous butterfly shoulders of their national costume, popularized by Imelda Marcos, had all but vanished from the Phillipine landscape and local weaving and crafts were also being threatened by cheap Chinese imports. One gentleman was specially interested in the connection between pre Christian Phillipines and South India during the time of the Pandya and Chola rule. Over a quiet dinner, they listened to guitarist Vedanth Bharadwaj singing songs of Kabir and Mirabai. Teenage Bharatanatyam dancer Sudarma Vaidyanathan dazzled and our famous curd rice with pickles closed out the evening as the favourite food.
So who said power women were not like you and me? Shopping, bargains, jewellery, kids and home food. For this high powered group, nothing was lost in translation!
A Rebel with a Cause
What is the positive force of rebellion? In the words of renaissance humanist Rukmini Devi Arundale, it can assume two forms. One is the positive battling to change the existing norms of being and seeing. The other is a negative energy of being a rebel for its own self indulgent sake.
Was Rukmini Devi a rebel? In her lifetime she was many things and perhaps a rebel the most. As her 106th birth anniversary arrives on the invisible February 29, Atthai (as she was widely known to her students and friends) had many ‘avatars’. Theosophist, animal welfare activist, dancer and politician (Rajya Sabha nominee twice and candidate for President of India). Known best for her founding the magnificent Bharatanatyam institution Kalakshetra in Chennai, dance history records her many achievements. Like Sri Aurobindo’s Mahashakti, she shattered many obstacles and paved new pathways for generations of men and women to access classical dance and music. I perused old photos of her riding the pyramids, walking the corn fields of the USA wearing saris, pants and hats with élan, conversing with European men and women with confidence and ease. This was in the 1930s, 40s and 50s, when a new India was being birthed and an entire generation was filled with the ambivalence of hope and uncertainty.
Accused today of ‘sanitizing’ Bharatantyam by removing the overt eroticism in the traditional repertoire, Rukmini Devi’s recognized the potential of classical dance to be the symbol of India’s cultural and spiritual regeneration. Schools, weaving centres, organic farming, painting, music and dance were all complementary activities in her master plan for the development of an artiste.
Marrying a foreigner many years older to her was the source of societal outrage but she did not wilt. Neither did she flinch when faced with a recalcitrant nattuvanar(dance conductor) at the last moment. She vowed and accomplished the feat of training and establishing the first female nattuvanar for Bharatanatyam- the late Kamalarani. The dance orchestra being seated to the right of the dancer rather than walking all around the stage was also her conscious design to present classical dance to the new generation of modern Indians.
My years at Kalakshetra in the mid seventies were eventful with Atthai walking by occasionally and causing a flutter with her regal presence. Being the tallest in my class (as always) I was suddenly asked to play the part of Kausalya in Rama Vanagamanam, the second in the Ramayana series. Playing Sumitra was Preetha Reddy of Apollo Hospitals. Imagine the two of us, playing mothers to senior dancers like Janardhan Sir and Venkatachalapathy. The rehearsals were stressful since I could never sit in deep enough araimandi to satisfy Atthai. Rukmini Devi also suggested to my mother that since I had the makings of a very fine dancer, that I should not perform often while studying at Kalskshetra. My mother refused outright saying that the life of a performer was very short and while I was capable of studying and performing, she would continue to plan my dance outings. Aah! Those were the days!
Men in dance, theatre designs for the performing arts, costuming, group choreography and of course her seminal Ramayana series are only some of Rukmini Devi’s achievements. Like most pioneers, Atthai was sad and isolated in her final days, distraught over the bitter tussle for control over her precious dream, Kalakshetra. Like another radical thinker Osho, who died alone and dispirited, Rukmini Devi’s dream seemed in jeopardy. Thankfully, the storm has passed and a new vibrancy has returned to Kalakshetra, The Osho ashram in Pune is now a swanky spa and holistic retreat far removed from the original aims of its brilliant founder. Kalakshetra remains a centre for alternate thinking, creativity and training. This rebel did indeed have a valid cause.
Was Rukmini Devi a rebel? In her lifetime she was many things and perhaps a rebel the most. As her 106th birth anniversary arrives on the invisible February 29, Atthai (as she was widely known to her students and friends) had many ‘avatars’. Theosophist, animal welfare activist, dancer and politician (Rajya Sabha nominee twice and candidate for President of India). Known best for her founding the magnificent Bharatanatyam institution Kalakshetra in Chennai, dance history records her many achievements. Like Sri Aurobindo’s Mahashakti, she shattered many obstacles and paved new pathways for generations of men and women to access classical dance and music. I perused old photos of her riding the pyramids, walking the corn fields of the USA wearing saris, pants and hats with élan, conversing with European men and women with confidence and ease. This was in the 1930s, 40s and 50s, when a new India was being birthed and an entire generation was filled with the ambivalence of hope and uncertainty.
Accused today of ‘sanitizing’ Bharatantyam by removing the overt eroticism in the traditional repertoire, Rukmini Devi’s recognized the potential of classical dance to be the symbol of India’s cultural and spiritual regeneration. Schools, weaving centres, organic farming, painting, music and dance were all complementary activities in her master plan for the development of an artiste.
Marrying a foreigner many years older to her was the source of societal outrage but she did not wilt. Neither did she flinch when faced with a recalcitrant nattuvanar(dance conductor) at the last moment. She vowed and accomplished the feat of training and establishing the first female nattuvanar for Bharatanatyam- the late Kamalarani. The dance orchestra being seated to the right of the dancer rather than walking all around the stage was also her conscious design to present classical dance to the new generation of modern Indians.
My years at Kalakshetra in the mid seventies were eventful with Atthai walking by occasionally and causing a flutter with her regal presence. Being the tallest in my class (as always) I was suddenly asked to play the part of Kausalya in Rama Vanagamanam, the second in the Ramayana series. Playing Sumitra was Preetha Reddy of Apollo Hospitals. Imagine the two of us, playing mothers to senior dancers like Janardhan Sir and Venkatachalapathy. The rehearsals were stressful since I could never sit in deep enough araimandi to satisfy Atthai. Rukmini Devi also suggested to my mother that since I had the makings of a very fine dancer, that I should not perform often while studying at Kalskshetra. My mother refused outright saying that the life of a performer was very short and while I was capable of studying and performing, she would continue to plan my dance outings. Aah! Those were the days!
Men in dance, theatre designs for the performing arts, costuming, group choreography and of course her seminal Ramayana series are only some of Rukmini Devi’s achievements. Like most pioneers, Atthai was sad and isolated in her final days, distraught over the bitter tussle for control over her precious dream, Kalakshetra. Like another radical thinker Osho, who died alone and dispirited, Rukmini Devi’s dream seemed in jeopardy. Thankfully, the storm has passed and a new vibrancy has returned to Kalakshetra, The Osho ashram in Pune is now a swanky spa and holistic retreat far removed from the original aims of its brilliant founder. Kalakshetra remains a centre for alternate thinking, creativity and training. This rebel did indeed have a valid cause.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The New Golden Triangle
FOR many reading the title, memories of India's famous poster of DelhiJaipur-Udaipur may come to mind.
Others may recall the phrase that emerged in the seventies during the Vietnam war about the areas of Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam for the drug, sex and narcotic underworld trade. I am referring to neither but the emerging area in our own backyard of southern Tamil Nadu -Trichy , Tuticorin and Tirunelveli.
I am not mentioning Madurai or Coimbatore, which emerged two decades ago as Tamil Nadu's mega growth centres. Today , the three Ts represent the aspirational and assertive face of our state. Money, trade and ambition are soaring among the younger generation who think nothing of flying to Chennai to party , pay cold cash for jewellery, fancy luggage and saris. Like the farmers of Punjab who travel to Delhi's Louis Vuitton store with cash-filled suitcases for the branded bridal luggage collection costing almost Rs 40 lakh, "the times they are a changing."
Walk into the best hotel in Trichy and ask the chef to whip you up an egg white omelette with multi grain bread and voila! It comes with a flourish and and a smile. Great tasting veggie sandwiches and old world bakeries serving nankhatai biscuits, Japanese cakes and cream puffs are standing tall amidst temple gopurams. I can still find my favourite `panneer soda' in a small shop opposite the temple mutt. Though these towns are best known for their religious and cultural landmarks, national brands are locating these new lucrative markets.
Trade, commerce, philosophy and culture have always been nurtured by the banks of the Cauvery and the Tambarabarani. Musicians, dancers, priests, thrived under the patronage of wise rulers. Today , parties, private jets, fancy cars and branded diamond watches are the norm for the affluent in these emerging towns. Thousands of phirangs crowd the ancient temples in the surrounding areas of Trichy and Tirunelveli while the new India is thronging the hotels and malls -the neo temples of today .
I travel often to all three cities and have been amazed with the change over the years. The sari brands of Pothys and RMKV hail from Tirunelveli and so do many other successful retail names. Trichy and its suburbs has become the centre of many new universities offering alternative courses in the performing arts, philosophy and culture. The best of Tamizh folk and martial arts are still being practiced in this geographical `trikona'. So city readersstop being snooty , lower those Dior sunglasses and take note. This is the new golden triangle of our state.
Others may recall the phrase that emerged in the seventies during the Vietnam war about the areas of Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam for the drug, sex and narcotic underworld trade. I am referring to neither but the emerging area in our own backyard of southern Tamil Nadu -Trichy , Tuticorin and Tirunelveli.
I am not mentioning Madurai or Coimbatore, which emerged two decades ago as Tamil Nadu's mega growth centres. Today , the three Ts represent the aspirational and assertive face of our state. Money, trade and ambition are soaring among the younger generation who think nothing of flying to Chennai to party , pay cold cash for jewellery, fancy luggage and saris. Like the farmers of Punjab who travel to Delhi's Louis Vuitton store with cash-filled suitcases for the branded bridal luggage collection costing almost Rs 40 lakh, "the times they are a changing."
Walk into the best hotel in Trichy and ask the chef to whip you up an egg white omelette with multi grain bread and voila! It comes with a flourish and and a smile. Great tasting veggie sandwiches and old world bakeries serving nankhatai biscuits, Japanese cakes and cream puffs are standing tall amidst temple gopurams. I can still find my favourite `panneer soda' in a small shop opposite the temple mutt. Though these towns are best known for their religious and cultural landmarks, national brands are locating these new lucrative markets.
Trade, commerce, philosophy and culture have always been nurtured by the banks of the Cauvery and the Tambarabarani. Musicians, dancers, priests, thrived under the patronage of wise rulers. Today , parties, private jets, fancy cars and branded diamond watches are the norm for the affluent in these emerging towns. Thousands of phirangs crowd the ancient temples in the surrounding areas of Trichy and Tirunelveli while the new India is thronging the hotels and malls -the neo temples of today .
I travel often to all three cities and have been amazed with the change over the years. The sari brands of Pothys and RMKV hail from Tirunelveli and so do many other successful retail names. Trichy and its suburbs has become the centre of many new universities offering alternative courses in the performing arts, philosophy and culture. The best of Tamizh folk and martial arts are still being practiced in this geographical `trikona'. So city readersstop being snooty , lower those Dior sunglasses and take note. This is the new golden triangle of our state.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Where are the Cultural Warriors ?
Where are the cultural warriors? Where have they gone? Have they abdicated their responsibility of being the prism to sift artistic responses and give the reading and viewing public an objective dimension of the arts?
I speak of the much talked about group. The liberals. The custodians of culture, the people who serve as stewards of civilization and mentors to the next generation. They who maintain the pathways into knowledge and taste- the school curriculum, cultural institutions, and cultural pages in newspapers and magazines – guarding them against low standards, ahistoricism, vulgarity and trendiness. If the pathways deteriorate, don’t blame just kids and parents too much. Blame, also, the teachers, gurus, writers, journalists, intellectuals, editors and curators who will not insist upon the value of knowledge and tradition, who will not judge cultural novelties by the high standards set by the past practitioners of art, who will not stand up to the adolescent announcements like “It is time to put away the past. It is childish to look backwards”. It is they who have let down the society that entrusts them to sustain intelligence and wisdom and beauty, and they have failed the youth who can’t climb out of adolescent behaviour on their own.
The well known story of Rip Van Winkle is very relevant at this time. Asleep for twenty years, Rip wakes up to a changed America where the new leader is a President and not the Englishman and the new system is democracy and not colonialism. Rip struggles with the seismic shift in values and attitudes and fails in negotiating the new power structures.
Gurus of knowledge are grappling with the new society where students are unwilling to be scolded and lectured to without a reasonable back up explanation. Attention spans are short and earning opportunities aplenty for the youth. Information is everywhere and tech savvy teeenagers are turning the tables on their seniors who have crowned themselves.as the venerated untouchables.
In the sphere of dance, we had the most prestigious national awards announced in February and nobody even noticed. The media paid no attention and only clamouring from the artistic community forced the media to carry small reports buried in the back pages. Granted, dancers have done it to themselves with holier than thou attitudes and over reacting to any criticism from the most senior and balanced of critics. Pages for the arts have shut down. Dancers and their cronies are to blame. Meanwhile we have an explosion of teaching, learning and performing. But what kind of dance are we seeing? What is classical, neo, modern, contemporary, experimental? Who knows as new avatars are created everyday. We now have Accro-Natyam, Cabaret Natyam, Military Natyam, Cine Natyam, Sufi Natyam, Neo Natyam, Yesu Natyam, Eelam Natyam Everything but Bharata Natyam the way many of us learned it decades ago. Should it be changed? OF course it will, whether you and I like the change or not.
I return to the question of standards and how we judge the best from the rest. Not sheer numbers in the audience or the quantity of performances. Popularity does not always equal excellence. However, as the medieval Spanish priest says in his seminal help book written secretly in the 12th century,
Let us not imitate Rip Van Winkle and wake up too late, look around the moan for what we could not delayed or resisted. Let us speak, write, argue, shout, lecture and talk about what we really care about. Excellence in dance. Nothing else will do.
I speak of the much talked about group. The liberals. The custodians of culture, the people who serve as stewards of civilization and mentors to the next generation. They who maintain the pathways into knowledge and taste- the school curriculum, cultural institutions, and cultural pages in newspapers and magazines – guarding them against low standards, ahistoricism, vulgarity and trendiness. If the pathways deteriorate, don’t blame just kids and parents too much. Blame, also, the teachers, gurus, writers, journalists, intellectuals, editors and curators who will not insist upon the value of knowledge and tradition, who will not judge cultural novelties by the high standards set by the past practitioners of art, who will not stand up to the adolescent announcements like “It is time to put away the past. It is childish to look backwards”. It is they who have let down the society that entrusts them to sustain intelligence and wisdom and beauty, and they have failed the youth who can’t climb out of adolescent behaviour on their own.
The well known story of Rip Van Winkle is very relevant at this time. Asleep for twenty years, Rip wakes up to a changed America where the new leader is a President and not the Englishman and the new system is democracy and not colonialism. Rip struggles with the seismic shift in values and attitudes and fails in negotiating the new power structures.
Gurus of knowledge are grappling with the new society where students are unwilling to be scolded and lectured to without a reasonable back up explanation. Attention spans are short and earning opportunities aplenty for the youth. Information is everywhere and tech savvy teeenagers are turning the tables on their seniors who have crowned themselves.as the venerated untouchables.
In the sphere of dance, we had the most prestigious national awards announced in February and nobody even noticed. The media paid no attention and only clamouring from the artistic community forced the media to carry small reports buried in the back pages. Granted, dancers have done it to themselves with holier than thou attitudes and over reacting to any criticism from the most senior and balanced of critics. Pages for the arts have shut down. Dancers and their cronies are to blame. Meanwhile we have an explosion of teaching, learning and performing. But what kind of dance are we seeing? What is classical, neo, modern, contemporary, experimental? Who knows as new avatars are created everyday. We now have Accro-Natyam, Cabaret Natyam, Military Natyam, Cine Natyam, Sufi Natyam, Neo Natyam, Yesu Natyam, Eelam Natyam Everything but Bharata Natyam the way many of us learned it decades ago. Should it be changed? OF course it will, whether you and I like the change or not.
I return to the question of standards and how we judge the best from the rest. Not sheer numbers in the audience or the quantity of performances. Popularity does not always equal excellence. However, as the medieval Spanish priest says in his seminal help book written secretly in the 12th century,
Let us not imitate Rip Van Winkle and wake up too late, look around the moan for what we could not delayed or resisted. Let us speak, write, argue, shout, lecture and talk about what we really care about. Excellence in dance. Nothing else will do.
The deep South
The small airport displays the sign “Welcome to the Southern Belle of the Georgia Coast”. Porters and airport staff greet you with a broad smile and the drawl,” Hi Ya’al”, made famous by the city’s famous celebrity chef Paula Deen. This is Savannah, Georgia, America’s first planned city and founded by British General James Oglethorpe in 1733. He organized the city into 24 beautiful squares and was so enchanted by its climate and beauty that he requested King George of England to gift him Savannah as a Christmas present.
That was then and I was returning to Savannah to visit my son who is a student of its famous SCAD university,(Savannah College of Art and Design) one of America’s newest and hottest colleges for new media and cinema. Warm and friendly, Savannahians are proud of their city and the small but beautiful city has many places to visit, shop and dine. In fact, it is a treat to walk around downtown Savannah, by the river where local chocolate and home made fudge factories churn out many varieties of the gooey stuff round the clock. Savannahians are hospitable and eat breakfast, talk lunch and think dinner.
I am considered thin in Savannah, so you can imagine what the average sized woman looks like. The smallest sizes used to be US 10 until migrants from New York and Boston started moving South and buying up property in this scenic city. Once famous for its cotton and slave trade, Savannah is considered America’s most haunted city, a large part of its built over graves. The best shopping and dining areas in Savannah are centred around the Historic District with West Broughton Street as its shimmering spine.
Breakfast in Savannah means a stop at Clary’s Café where the pancakes, Southern fluffy biscuits and warm gravy see a long queue from 7 am. Stroll along West Broughton to the Honey Bee which stocks over 30 varieties of American honey and sip a cup of tea while tasting honey from an actual honey comb. A few stores away is the iconic Savannah clothing store Gaucho, run by Ross and his cheerful aide Dee. Together they have made the store a one stop elegant destination for silk jackets, resort wear and exquisitely original pants and tunics. Nearby is Inge’s Casual Elegance, run by German born Inge, who is a paragon of chic herself, advising my daughter Arya and me on the perfect summer dress. Continuing on Broughton you come across BluBells, an original Savannah store which stocks vintage clothes like Gucci and Armani coats and jackets from the 1970’s. Flanking Blue Bells is the quirky cosmetic shop called See Jane which hosts some excellent but lesser known brands like Julie Hewitt ( she did the make up for Pirates of the Caribbean). On the other side of BluBells is the gorgeous boutique called American Craft. Here you can pick up one of a kind wearable art. This is my one stop to collect hand painted jackets, tops and long scarves. Very pricey but every piece is a head turner.
A new French bistro has opened on West Broughton but those who prefer the active lifestyle gravitate to Kayak Café also located on West Broughton, which serves up a variety of healthy vegetarian and vegan sandwiches. Evenings finds the party goers filling up the popular Jazzed, a tapas bar that is all out fun with great food, music and ambience. A short walk away to the City Market area and you can find a store called Taste of Georgia where you can taste and purchase light Georgian wine for all palates.
Sidestepping all the carriage tours and trolleys that trundle along the main roads of downtown Savannah, you can sit on the bench that Forrest Gump made famous in the movie of the same name or be told where Robert Redford has just wrapped up filming his new movie The Inquisitor on John Wilkes Booth, the man who assassinated President Lincoln.
Fine dining abounds in Savannah, with several top rated Michelin starred restaurants. The most pricey and well known is 700 Drayton, attached to the plush Forsyth on the Mansion Hotel. The entire atmosphere and menu are so elegant and the ambience so exquisite that the very air reeks of class. Other well known and excellent dining venues are Sapphire Grill and Lady and Sons, the last being owned by restaurant diva Paula Deen. However, if you are looking for good old Southern cooking then it is only at Mrs Wilkes, a simple place where diners sit shoulder to shoulder and order from a fixed menu of friend chicken, potatoes, spinach, collard greens, biscuits, deep fried catfish and barbecued ribs saturated in butter and cholesterol laden fats.
Even as the high priced brands like Marc Jacobs, Prada and Gucci open stores in Savannah, the managers all know each other by their first name and customer service is superb in this friendly town. Do not be surprised if anyone stops to have a conversation, offer a piece of advice or tell you where to get the best haircut. Everybody knows everybody in Savannah and they are proud of it. Remember that this is the city of the famous book and movie ‘Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” and the mercurial cabaret performer Chablis actually exists.
Today Savannah is a delight to visit, especially for me, having lived in busy and bustling New York for so long. I have always found something unusual to buy in this city including the original SCAD Design Store, affiliated to the university where the fashion design students exhibit and sell their creations. The nearby Gryphon Tea Room reminds me of Southern style from the days of Scarlett O Hara in Gone with the Wind. I have spent so many hours strolling by the river licking a fresh home made sorbet from one of the local ice cream vendors. Over the past four years, I have made many friends there and will be sad to see my son graduate and pack up from this quaint and unusual city that is one of the top 10 tourist destinations in the USA.
That was then and I was returning to Savannah to visit my son who is a student of its famous SCAD university,(Savannah College of Art and Design) one of America’s newest and hottest colleges for new media and cinema. Warm and friendly, Savannahians are proud of their city and the small but beautiful city has many places to visit, shop and dine. In fact, it is a treat to walk around downtown Savannah, by the river where local chocolate and home made fudge factories churn out many varieties of the gooey stuff round the clock. Savannahians are hospitable and eat breakfast, talk lunch and think dinner.
I am considered thin in Savannah, so you can imagine what the average sized woman looks like. The smallest sizes used to be US 10 until migrants from New York and Boston started moving South and buying up property in this scenic city. Once famous for its cotton and slave trade, Savannah is considered America’s most haunted city, a large part of its built over graves. The best shopping and dining areas in Savannah are centred around the Historic District with West Broughton Street as its shimmering spine.
Breakfast in Savannah means a stop at Clary’s Café where the pancakes, Southern fluffy biscuits and warm gravy see a long queue from 7 am. Stroll along West Broughton to the Honey Bee which stocks over 30 varieties of American honey and sip a cup of tea while tasting honey from an actual honey comb. A few stores away is the iconic Savannah clothing store Gaucho, run by Ross and his cheerful aide Dee. Together they have made the store a one stop elegant destination for silk jackets, resort wear and exquisitely original pants and tunics. Nearby is Inge’s Casual Elegance, run by German born Inge, who is a paragon of chic herself, advising my daughter Arya and me on the perfect summer dress. Continuing on Broughton you come across BluBells, an original Savannah store which stocks vintage clothes like Gucci and Armani coats and jackets from the 1970’s. Flanking Blue Bells is the quirky cosmetic shop called See Jane which hosts some excellent but lesser known brands like Julie Hewitt ( she did the make up for Pirates of the Caribbean). On the other side of BluBells is the gorgeous boutique called American Craft. Here you can pick up one of a kind wearable art. This is my one stop to collect hand painted jackets, tops and long scarves. Very pricey but every piece is a head turner.
A new French bistro has opened on West Broughton but those who prefer the active lifestyle gravitate to Kayak Café also located on West Broughton, which serves up a variety of healthy vegetarian and vegan sandwiches. Evenings finds the party goers filling up the popular Jazzed, a tapas bar that is all out fun with great food, music and ambience. A short walk away to the City Market area and you can find a store called Taste of Georgia where you can taste and purchase light Georgian wine for all palates.
Sidestepping all the carriage tours and trolleys that trundle along the main roads of downtown Savannah, you can sit on the bench that Forrest Gump made famous in the movie of the same name or be told where Robert Redford has just wrapped up filming his new movie The Inquisitor on John Wilkes Booth, the man who assassinated President Lincoln.
Fine dining abounds in Savannah, with several top rated Michelin starred restaurants. The most pricey and well known is 700 Drayton, attached to the plush Forsyth on the Mansion Hotel. The entire atmosphere and menu are so elegant and the ambience so exquisite that the very air reeks of class. Other well known and excellent dining venues are Sapphire Grill and Lady and Sons, the last being owned by restaurant diva Paula Deen. However, if you are looking for good old Southern cooking then it is only at Mrs Wilkes, a simple place where diners sit shoulder to shoulder and order from a fixed menu of friend chicken, potatoes, spinach, collard greens, biscuits, deep fried catfish and barbecued ribs saturated in butter and cholesterol laden fats.
Even as the high priced brands like Marc Jacobs, Prada and Gucci open stores in Savannah, the managers all know each other by their first name and customer service is superb in this friendly town. Do not be surprised if anyone stops to have a conversation, offer a piece of advice or tell you where to get the best haircut. Everybody knows everybody in Savannah and they are proud of it. Remember that this is the city of the famous book and movie ‘Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” and the mercurial cabaret performer Chablis actually exists.
Today Savannah is a delight to visit, especially for me, having lived in busy and bustling New York for so long. I have always found something unusual to buy in this city including the original SCAD Design Store, affiliated to the university where the fashion design students exhibit and sell their creations. The nearby Gryphon Tea Room reminds me of Southern style from the days of Scarlett O Hara in Gone with the Wind. I have spent so many hours strolling by the river licking a fresh home made sorbet from one of the local ice cream vendors. Over the past four years, I have made many friends there and will be sad to see my son graduate and pack up from this quaint and unusual city that is one of the top 10 tourist destinations in the USA.
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