Eight yards of tartan isn't something to trifle with, not if you're dressing up in it. It's what goes into making a kilt, so when mine host signs me up for a demonstration at Linn House in Aberdeen, I know to expect trouble. "Give yourselves at least a half-hour for dressing up," Ken Lindsay warns. To buckle a skirt and slip on a jacket? Back home, the family is in hysterics. Am I going to brave a skirt, tradition and all? My son says rude things about connecting with my feminine side. My wife informs me she always knew she wore the pants in the house. My daughter fusses about how much leg I'll show.The kilt guru lays out the dressing tutorial layer by layer. First you wear your stockings, taking care to slip on the garters. There was apparently a Russian gentleman who turned up sporting his garters around his neck, much to his host's amusement. I remind him that I've worn garters in boarding school. Next, you slip on your brogues because the long laces need winding round the calves in

Kishore Singh: Skirting my dress sense

Business Standard

Every once in a few months, my wife dons her royal avatar, usually at clan gatherings that resemble a feudal durbar. For those of us with diluted nobility in our veins, a pecking order in which you can't reach for toast on the breakfast table outside your turn without inviting censure, is an exquisite form of medieval torture. There are grande dames who can be seen but not spoken to; severely arthritic uncles with fiercely curling moustaches who need to be pickled in alcohol from the start of the day till it's time to retire them to bed; and regiments of cousins and aunts who drip acid for every misstep you're sure to take, having aspired to cosmopolitanism over tradition."This time," my wife gathers us around with a flurry of instructions, "we do not wish to be embarrassed." The generic "we" is not a stand-in for the family, but an assumption that she is at the centre of our dynastic universe. "We don't have anything to wear," she adds testily, though this time the implication is that

Kishore Singh: 'We' are not amused

In August this year, Nalini Malani was awarded the St Moritz Art Masters Lifetime Award instituted by Cartier; Her work, In Search of Vanished Blood, at the Edinburgh Art Festival

Cassandra's conundrum

On Wednesday night my wife announced that we were to join the PM's call for spring-cleaning the nation by immediately getting rid of the detritus in our lives. Because dinner was held up till we complied with her instructions, we had no choice but to join hands to complete the task, and soon the balcony was filled with beer and whisky empties (from my son's bathroom, deposited there by his friends after they had first cleaned out my bar), and piles of slightly used shoes and clothes that seemed still new but which my daughter was no longer partial to (and which my wife spent the better part of the night trying on for size). The staff brought down cartons of "useless" stuff that they alleged I had been saving up over the years, and which had been piling up in their quarters. My wife's contribution was a roomful of lipsticks and lotions long past their use-by date. It would have been a heroic cleanout but on Thursday morning, either because the raddiwallahs were observing a holiday while

Kishore Singh: Spring-cleaning in autumn

What do the seriously rich do when they're on a junket - okay, make that a work trip - and find some time to spare? It turns out, they're not all that different from us. This week, the combined worth of New Delhi went up immeasurably when India's billionaires and millionaires turned up en masse to listen to the prime minister deliver his Make-in-India presentation. Post the media interviews, the poor little rich boys found themselves with a few unaccounted hours - the PM was in too much of a hurry to say hello - so they did what you and I would. They went shopping."Maybe they're buying jewellery for their spouses," I said to my wife, having spied some among them peep into the stores near my office. "That's hardly likely," my wife explained, "husbands don't know how to choose jewellery because they're so cheap." I thought her assessment was unfair, but agreed that since the luxury mall where they'd stopped before catching their private jets back home stocked only foreign brands, it woul

Kishore Singh: To the manner born

Even the most analytical of collectors are unable to resist the lure of frequent excursions into art-buying expeditions. Where newbies fuss about the investment value of art, passionate collectors cannot resist the siren call of newer or simply more works

The collecting bug

Gujarati farsaan is an acquired taste, as alien to the Chinese palate as it is exotic to the Indian one, so what Xi Jinping and his wife made of it at their riverside banquet can best be imagined, but for their sake I hope their hotel in Ahmedabad thought to provide them at least a bento box of appetisers. But wait, that's Japanese, which would have been unthinkable diplomacy on our part. Maybe someone happened to serve them the popular, if unappetising, Sino-Indian noodle chaat - India's version of American sweet and sour that passes for a Chinese original. Following these, fenugreek khakra sounds a better bet, it being the comfort staple of the intrepid Gujju off to seek his fortune in Jinping's China.In his bid to further Sino-Indian ties, though probably only coincidentally, the cook had packed a home lunch of Tangra Chinese on the day the Chinese president came carrying a pint-sized $20-billion gift that managed to disappoint his hosts. "It's like wanting a car on your birthday,"

Kishore Singh: Chinese takeaways

Not because of the intimate nature of the relationship between the garment and the models but because the bride-to-be couldn't locate any "value" in it

Kishore Singh: Another kind of fiscal deficit

Some artists are now like perennial brands when it comes to building an art collection and, depending on your taste, this could include the mighties of the Bengal School, the heavyweight Progressives and at least some of the contemporaries, especially among the younger generation. Whether or not you like Jamini Roy, think of M F Husain as gimmicky and F N Souza as misogynistic, wonder at Ganesh Pyne's obsession with death, desire a Tyeb Mehta and love/hate Subodh Gupta, chances are they will figure in your wish-list in varying degrees. Some rankings haven't changed all that much - most collections begin with the acquisition of a Husain painting - and others follow the current lodestar, which could be a rare V S Gaitonde for some, and the resplendent geometry of S H Raza for others. But if there is one artist whose star has been on a discreet ascendant in recent years, that would have to be Ram Kumar.Ram Kumar's works are well enough known, as is his affair with Banaras. Brother of the

In response to emotion

You do not mess with a octogenarian who carries firearms, especially when old age might cause her to take potshots at the slightest provocation

Kishore Singh: Fighting fit on Delhi's party circuit

St Moritz is the equivalent of the Riviera in the Alps, only swishier. Our hosts chafe because bad weather caused their private plane to land at an airport a little further than the one from where they had intended to board their flight. Because not everyone departs on the same day, our hostess orders a "smaller plane" for her own journey home. In this enclave of the very wealthy, the size of the chalet you own and its address is the surest indicator of your status. We're in beautiful Surlej, overlooking the lake with the mountains behind, but true-blue requires you to be in Suvretta where Lakshmi Mittal has built himself a grand chalet that is the envy of the jet-set with its stylish interiors and indoor pool. Even if it was anything like the homes in our part of the valley, it would be enough to gloat over. We drive past it as much to admire the architecture as a matter of national honour - this, after all, is where Onassis had a chalet, and the Aga Khan.Conversation at the dining ta

Kishore Singh: Why St Moritz is worth the francs

The Swiss have learnt to pronounce Paresh Maity's name almost as well as in his native Bengal. At Art Masters in St Moritz, Switzerland, his Mystic Abode installation of 8,000 temple bells has been placed outside the very snooty and old-world Badrutt's Hotel and commands attention. Jayasri Burman's sculpture of a goddess-like Dharitri with swans has been snapped up by an Italian collector. We've been to the Engadin Museum to view Nalini Malani's video installations, glimpsed Jitish Kallat's 14 Lives, been charmed by Mathias Brunner's film installation based on Satyajit Ray's Jalsaghar, appropriately titled The Music Room. I've seen Subodh Gupta's School earlier in New Delhi, but am sorry to miss some of the other Indian artists' works, notably a collective ode to Maximum City.Art Masters is celebrating India Week - last year China was featured - and Indian artists are getting a viewing throughout the spread of St Moritz. I am here for the launch of a book on M F Husain, commissioned by

Barefoot in the Alps

Working till late at night - make that early morning - in a hotel in Mumbai had proved to be an eye-opener. The sea-facing property was a favourite with Bollywood's brightest, and at night they poured in en-masse in the hope of catching some director's eye. Dandy young men in mustard yellow skinnies and Ts that showed cleavage and biceps were like clones of one another, though they probably owed the cleft on their chins and the dimples on their cheeks to surgery rather than nature. They dawdled narcissistically, appearing the tiniest bit bored of their own beauty, pouting a mite in sullen resignation at the lack of recognition of their worth. If they had talent, they hid it well, striking careless poses like gadflies in an operatic ensemble.Their female counterparts were livelier, and their default dressing mode was the "frock" as my wife promptly labelled their trailing gowns. Every woman, it seemed, was decolletaged in a dress, no matter the time of night or day, irrespective of age

Kishore Singh: Floored by gowns

A few months ago, which I considered well in advance, I thought to make some bookings for a family holiday that I knew would cause my father to have an apoplectic fit if he ever found out the price we'd be paying for bed and board - but I was counting on my children's discretion in this regard. My parents were coming to visit at a time that coincided with my mother's birthday that we knew to be a significant milestone, but which my sister dismissed as just "another birthday", thus causing a certain rift between her and my wife and much insults about the necessity of hiding one's age that flew contrary in the face of evidence. The sum of these parleys was a decision to take a clan vacation over the extended Independence Day weekend at a destination of my mother's choice.For some while now, my mother has expressed the hope of holidaying in Goa, and even though the monsoon is hardly ideal time to visit the beach, we decided to humour her with a junket to Goa in the rains. Though the fligh

Kishore Singh: My tryst with holiday destinations

Leonardo DiCaprio frequents art fairs hoping to pass unnoticed among the crowds, though publicly he has been part of LACMA'a Art + Film Gala where, in 2013, he helped set sales records for 13 artists

Artful Hollywood Artless Bollywood

Trouble with the great hotels was that they were all inexplicably booked up. I lowered my sights and cast around for cheaper fare but Goa was "all sold out". Oh, well, if Goa didn't want us, we had a choice of places to pick from. Kashmir would have been lovely in August, but neither a hotel nor houseboat had board to spare. Mussoorie was fully booked up; Kerala was sold out; even Agra and Jaipur had no rooms on offer. One after another, destinations fell like dominoes, and it began to look like our plan was taking a beating.

Kishore Singh: My tryst with holiday destinations on Independence Day

I'm not partial to the glossy rag trade but permit myself an occasional discretionary peek to uncover the goings-on in the glamour world, which is how I know that every new starlet begins her journey to Bollywood with an allegiance to sole matters. "I love shoes," she'll coo - where mere mortals talk, Mumbai's aspiring actresses trill - "I can't stop buying them." Senior actresses are happy to pose with the real McCoy - flinging open cupboards to reveal their affair with a certain Jimmy Choo from downtown Bhendi Bazaar. At the top of the rung, the sponsors are happy to kit out the stars in their favourite red soles, so there's no need to actually buy them. And yet, there's an Imelda Marcos in every woman, and she doesn't have to be famous to covet a room full of pumps.Home tours - we're still "new" in the house we inhabit - end with its piece de resistance, a walk-in shoe closet specially designed for my daughter. Much heartburn was caused when planning a residence for her footwear, ev

Kishore Singh: A safe house for shoes

Flying back to Delhi on Sunday, I was surprised when my wife volunteered to pick me from the airport, even though it was a mid-morning flight. Having accepted as routine the red-eye flights booked by the office, I'd switched to using a taxi because the driver grumbled about reporting for duty at dawn, ignoring the generous overtime he made in the bargain. If I hoped someone from the family would do the drop, my son assured me that he was required by his instructor to be at the gym earlier than usual, my daughter said she knew I didn't care to upset her sleep, and as for my wife, let's just say she did not extend herself to such menial tasks any more.Yet, here she was, insisting on the pick-up, and what time was the flight landing, anyway? While I was still at Mumbai airport, she informed me that our daughter would accompany her, and by the time I'd boarded the aircraft, my son's confirmation for the expedition was a matter of record. They weren't at the airport when I landed in Delhi,

Kishore Singh: A costly ride back home

Within India, the Kochi Biennale is already becoming a mandatory touchpoint for artists who count. Participating in seminars or being peer reviewed in art journals notch up the level of an artist's seriousness

Art pricing for dummies

I misplaced my wife this morning - or rather she misplaced herself. By the time I got back from taking the dog for his constitutional, my wife had left to join our neighbour for their yoga class. My wife takes her yoga seriously. She has a pretty mat and matching tracks and shoes; she ties her hair into a jaunty ponytail; she has the cook serve her a tray that has one glass of warm water, another of lime water, a pot of first flush Darjeeling tea, dainty bowls of walnut kernels, lotus and flax seeds to which she helps herself throughout her regime.They work out in the lawn when it's not raining, or indoors if the weather is wet. First, a flunkey trundles down with a yoga mat. Another follows with her shoes and a stool so she can lace up in comfort. The cook undertakes two trips with tray loads of victuals. She sips some water and begins her breathing exercises that my son rudely insists make her sound asthmatic. While our neighbour starts somewhat promptly, my wife pours herself a cup

Kishore Singh: A potted history of pilferage

How must life have been like for Indian artists who chose to live and work abroad at a time when distance was a formidable hurdle? At a time when Indian art did not have an identifiable voice, it is tempting to imagine they must have occupied the fringes of the art circuit as exotic aliens. Figurative Indian art with its references to the Ramayana and the Mahabharata would have found no resonance. Without an available NRI market at the time, any likely buyers would necessarily have had to be locals and expats for whom the nationality of the artist did not matter much, if at all.How did they manage this? By changing from a figurative genre to another where absolute distortion was key to their practice. Many of these artists preferred to express themselves as abstractionists. This elimination of cultural reference gave them a chance of being able to express themselves. The prime instance among these is of S H Raza who made his home in France for six decades. An impressionistic landscape

Kishore Singh

Kishore Singh

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