New York Music Daily

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Sitar Star Roopa Panesar Kicks Off Her US Tour With an Electrifying, Dynamic Lincoln Center Debut

Sitarist Roopa Panesar is a rising star in the world of global Indian music. This past evening was her Lincoln Center debut and the first stop on her first headlining US tour. She was joined by Prishanna Thevarajah on mridangam and Nitin Mitta on tabla, two drums which aren’t often found on the same stage together. In Panesar’s recent work, the addition of the mridangam typically raises the energy and also anchors the rhythm with a boomier low end. As innovative as the concept  may be, it was Panesar’s matter-of-fact, purposeful sense of melody and wildfire attack on the strings that finally got the crowd roaring. 

Her first piece, the North Indian raga Jhinjhoti, was a duo with Mitta. “It’s very romantic,” she told the audience. There was a calm, tender, starlit quality to her spacious alap (improvised intro) – it was as if she was literally caressing the strings. A couple of striking swoops upward signaled Mitta, who gave the piece a spare, steady, elegant pulse. It’s not often that you hear a piece of music so unselfconsciously playful yet with the kind of lingering grandeur that Panesar gave it.

As the dynamics rose and fell, steady, suspensefully melismatic cadenzas gave way to an irrepressibly jaunty, rapidfire tabla solo and steely sitar intensity that resisted easy resolution – evening ragas are characteristically restless. Finally, Panesar landed on a tantalizingly catchy four-bar riff, smiled, then built a kaleidoscope of variations. A feral high note foreshadowed the long tsunami of glistening, ringing, oscillating, insistent waves at the end.

The full trio, with Thevarajah adding subtle accents on kanjira,  debuted a suite of raga themes, easing their way into a plaintively swaying gently circling ambience. As the music rose almost imperceptibly, there was broodingly meditative gravitas and then allusively waltzing angst and longing, the Silk Road stretching to the cold, unforgiving Russian steppes. Then the mridangam kicked in and there was no stopping this harried, paradoxically bouncy march, up to a big audience clapalong. Mitta’s hailstorm tabla brought back a momentary suspense before a thunderstorm percussion duel.

They broke with tradition to end the show with segments from a morning raga, the kind you hear at the end of a wild allnight party if you’ve lasted that long. This one had an irrresistibly edgy Middle Eastern tinge over a tricky 13/8 groove that quickly became a stampede.

This could be what Panesar will be playing at the next stop on her current US tour , at the Chicago World Music Festival in the wee hours of Saturday, Sept 9. That’s happening at 5 AM at the Chicago Cultural Center, Preston Bradley Hall,78 E. Washington St., 3rd Floor South. Admission is free.

This also happened to be the first installment of Lincoln Center’s new cutting-edge concert series Outside India, a collaboration with the Brooklyn Raga Massive and the India Center Foundation, which continues tomorrow night, Sept 8 at 7:30 at the atrium space just north of 62nd St. on Broadway with visionary trumpeter/santoorist/singer Amir ElSaffar leading an octet with Naseem Alatrash on cello plus Firas Zreik on kanun; Arun Ramamurthy on violin; Abhik Mukherjee on sitar; Jay Gandhi on bansuri flute, and Shiva Ghoshal on tabla.

Ohmslice Bring Their Enveloping, Pensively Lyrical No Wave to Gowanus Saturday Night

Ohmslice is the brainchild of dark existentialist performance poet Jane LeCroy and multi-instrumentalist Bradford Reed, inventor of the Pencilina. Behind his homemade, one-of-a-kind modular synth – attached to various-sized water cans for percussion – he brings to mind a calm version of Alan Vega. But where Vega so often went for head-on assault – in the early days, at least – Reed typically goes for sparkle and shimmer and ripple. Phil Kline’s early electronic work is also a good point of comparison.

Overhead, LeCroy freestyles succinctly and acerbically about politics, philosophy and the struggle to stay sane in this city and this country in 2017. On their debut album, Conduit – which isn’t out yet and consequently hasn’t hit the usual streaming spots – they’re joined by drummer Josh Matthews, downtown fixture Daniel Carter on trumpet and sax and Swans’ Bill Bronson on guitar. They’re playing the album release show this Saturday night, Sept 9 at 10 PM at Halyards in Gowanus; Brooklyn’s original Balkan brass crew Hungry March Band play beforehand at 9.

The album’s opening number is Crying on a Train, a plainspoken escape scenario buzzing, sputtering and clattering over a Atrocity Exhibition-ish groove. The instrumental Ancient Friendship follows a similar rhythm but with a hypnotic spacerock vibe. With Carter’s desolate trumpet over a rapidly decomposing dirge, Get Matter gives LeCroy a platform for contemplating how we’re mostly empty space – on an atomic level, at least.

The miniature Velour Kirtan hints at qawwali and segues into the blippy, rhythmic Snow, a dead ringer for Siouxsie Sioux’s Creatures. Quavering, keening guitar waves and tinkling electro tones flavor another miniature, Broken Phase Candy, followed by the increasingly intricate, loopy, insectile Gravity, which brings to mind Paula Henderson’s adventures in electroacoustica.

Rusty Ground is far more minimal: with its distantly boomy drums and low, drony oscillations, it’s the album’s most menacing track. Paint by Numbered Days begins more nebulously but soon becomes the album’s most dynamic number, building to an echoey wash that eventually fades down to a calm seaside tableau.

Contrasting lows and highs rumble through the mix beneath LeCroy’s deadpan robot vocals in Machine of You. The album winds up on a surprisingly upbeat note with the jaunty instrumental pastiche Ohm’s Awe. What is this? Performance art? Jazz poetry? No wave? Why hang a label on it? As Sartre once remarked, once you give something a name, you kill it.