Blueprint
Label: Suphala Productions
Length: LP
Media: CD
Format: Album
WorkNameSort: Blueprint
There’s something about tabla player Suphala that makes you want to hate her. First, there’s the matter of one of her previous albums that included a Melanie Griffith/Antonio Banderas duet ‘ on a poem translated by Deepak Chopra. Then there’s the love that she gets from the likes of Diane Von Furstenburg and Salman Rushdie, not to mention the fact that both Paul Simon’s wife (Edie Brickell) and his son appear separately on three of Blueprint‘s tracks. With such a coterie of admirers (not to mention the ‘haute coutureâ?� credit given in the album’s liner notes), one would easily assume that Suphala was merely an upper-crust dabbler in Indian exotica, willing to be an object of musical affection for NPR socialites. But what to make of the presence of Vernon Reid, King Britt and Rakesh Chaurasia on Blueprint? Or the fact that Suphala learned her tabla skills at the feet of both Ustad Zakir Hussain and Ustad Alla Rakha? The answer is obvious: Suphala is a gifted player with middlebrow tastes when it comes to ‘fusion.â?� The soft smoothness of songs like those sung by Brickell evoke a diaphanous vacancy. Even without the high-profile guests, the candlelit vibe remains, making the majority of the disc seem like an empty exercise in atmosphere. You might say Blueprint is to Carnatic music what Norah Jones’ debut was to jazz. So yes, there’s something about Suphala that makes you want to hate her. But then you find that you’ve listened to Blueprint for the 20th time. Brickell’s vocals have retreated to the background, the ’empty exercise in atmosphereâ?� has revealed layers of compositional complexity that continue to surprise, and Suphala’s tabla-playing turns out to be a smart and hip reinvention of various classical approaches. The presence of King Britt turns out to be far more integral to her sonic palette than that of the Simon family; Blueprint is awash in askew electronic textures that accentuate the organic instrumentation. Just like Norah Jones ‘ the lovely lightweight who turned out to be legit ‘ Suphala gently subverts the notions of coffeehouse background music in a way that’s instantly appealing, but with a deceptive amount of substance.
This article appears in Jul 18-24, 2007.