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‘Tender’ Archives at NCPA

June 26, 2008 in Articles by Aneesh | 21 comments

Musicians were given to understand that music archives in India, are non-profit organisations working expressly to promote documentation and research. Not for a moment was there ever any mention of a commercial transaction between the archive and a record label or any other organisation for disseminating this material. Dissemination was to be carried out only on the premises of the archive, by way of arranging listening sessions for one or more persons. Each archive had a set of rules for depositing material and for accessing it thereafter. However, in the past year or so, one has come across several attempts being made by archives to sell or license their recordings to record labels for commercial release. While I am all for a commercial release, it can be done only after procuring requisite permissions from the performers. Unfortunately, this has not always been the case, as is evident from the recent steps taken by the National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai.

The letter attached below, addressed to the NCPA and its consultant from the UK, is self-explanatory.

From: Shubha Mudgal [mailto:shubha.....com]
Sent: Wednesday, May 28, 2008 12:17 AM
To: Suvarnalata Rao
Cc: anepradh1……com; vmehta…..com; omortimer…….com [emails obfuscated]
Subject: Archives

Dear Vijayabai, Owen, and Suvarna,

Thanks very much for informing us of your efforts at commercially releasing archival material in the possession of the NCPA. We also read about this in the Times of India. After going through the PDF that you had sent earlier and the catalogue that you were kind enough to also send, we have the following response:

1. We are happy to hear that NCPA wishes to make its archival collection widely accessible. However, we are extremely distressed at the manner in which you have chosen to accomplish this task. We and other artistes had always believed that the NCPA was a premier institution that housed a selection of the country’s most valuable archival recordings. Artistes had permitted some of these recordings only on the basis of their being housed for archival purposes. The fact that you have now chosen to commercially release these without first consulting artistes, is tantamount to going against the wishes of the artistes.

2. Your letter did mention the fact that the legal status with regard to these recordings was such that they were licensed to the NCPA expressly for archival purposes and that the copyrights rested with the artistes. However, we wish to point out that the NCPA at most times did not take permissions from the artistes even to record for archival purposes. We have both performed at various venues at the NCPA on innumerable occasions, and but for the recent change in policy which requires the artistes to sign a document permitting recordings, such permissions had not been taken earlier. Indeed, even if these permissions had been acquired from the main performers, the accompanists were never asked for similar permissions. This was neither done in writing nor verbally.

3. On occasions when artistes were aware that their performances were being recorded, they sometimes requested NCPA to give them copies of these for study purposes. However, their recordings never reached them, ostensibly because they needed to be in the safe custody of the NCPA archives and that making them available to the artistes could lead to their misuse! Artistes were told that they would be in a position to negotiate deals with record labels for their personal gain. However, the NCPA now chooses to do the very same thing, without taking the artistes into confidence. May we ask how an institution that has taken upon itself the task of safeguarding the property of artistes, can now attempt at selling these, without the express permission of the artistes to even begin such an endeavour? Strangely enough we were copied on an email that invited tenders, but nobody from NCPA thought fit to consult us in our capacity as artistes featured on the catalogue for sale.

4. We are sure that some artistes and their heirs would agree to such a sale of their recordings and would therefore not like to jeopardize their interests by protesting against this move. But it seems strange that the NCPA chooses to seek potential buyers only when it finds itself reeling under financial constraints. Significantly, it did not part with the recordings when the artistes faced financial burden that would surely have been infinitely greater than NCPA ’s need for funds.

5. The appointment of consultants for this endeavour, uploading the catalogue and preparing a sampler CD has evidently taken up much of your time. But nobody thought fit to invite consultants/representatives from the artistic community. If it is accessibility that the NCPA hopes to achieve why did it not think of uploading the catalogue on the NCPA site? In fact, this should have been done several years ago.

6. Needless to say, we would not like you to include any of our recordings in the catalogue that you choose to sell to potential buyers.

7. We would like you to send us copies of all recordings in the possession of your archives that feature us as main performers or accompanying musicians.

8. The trend to make archival recordings commercially available was started in a major way by the Sangeet Natak Akademi and the NCPA has followed suit without so much as thinking of the far reaching adverse consequences. We fear that other archives will look upon this as a precedent and even make concerted efforts at selling bootlegged recordings that have now become their prized possessions. All this will be done without consulting artistes prior to inviting tenders. Naturally, this does not relate to or impact you in any way, as in all likelihood you will say that these are policies that institutions choose and execute on their own steam. However, this will be treated as a huge letdown by several artistes including us who reposed their faith in institutions such as yours. We would like you to know that we were on the verge of facilitating the deposit of an invaluable collection of archival music with the NCPA archives. But, the recent move initiated by NCPA has prompted us to advise the source not to think of depositing anything any longer with NCPA.

9. We wonder how this will impact the lives of folk artistes, but then again, you may well reply that they have given you their total consent to archive and publish their recordings on any format in perpetuity!

In utter dismay,

Shubha Mudgal and Aneesh Pradhan

Fusion music-confusion or confluence

April 1, 2007 in Articles by Aneesh | 2 comments

Published in Vivek Saptahik, Divali issue 2006.

फ्युजन म्युझिक – कनफ्युजन का संगीतसंगम?

दोन किंवा त्याहूनही अधिक संगीत प्रकारांचे एकमेकांशी संभाषण आणि यातून झालेला आविषकार म्हणजेच ‘फ्युजन म्युझिक’. या प्रक्रीयेचा प्रदीर्घ इतिहास असला तरी फ्युजन म्युझिक हे नाव अलिकडेच म्हणजे गेल्या तीन-चार दशकातच प्रचलित झाले. सर्व प्रथम ही संज्ञा पाश्चात्य संगीत प्रकारांमधील देवाण-घेवाण दर्शवण्या करीता वापरण्यात आली. जॅझ-रॉक फ्युजन हे याचे एक उदाहरण.

या संपूर्ण काळात, रसिकांचे कान वेधून घेण्यासाठी रेकॉर्ड कंपन्यांनीही या नावाचा उपयोग करून नवीन रेकॉर्डस बाजारात आणल्या. आपल्या मालाचा खप वाढविण्याकरीता देखील काही कंपन्यांनी असेही संगीताचे प्रयोग ध्वनिमुद्रित केले की जे फ्युजन म्हणून प्रसिद्ध झाले पण ज्यात फार काही तथ्य नव्हते.

फ्युजन म्युझिकचा जगभर प्रसार झाल्यामुळे आजच्या पिढीतील भारतीय कलाकारांवर या प्रयोगांचा प्रभाव पडला आहे. म्हणूनच आज आपण हिंदुस्तानी आणि कर्नाटक शास्त्रोक्त संगीतकारांना इतर देशातीलच नव्हे तर भारतातील पिआनो, गिटार, सारखी पाश्चात्य वाद्य वाजवणार्‍या कलाकारांबरोबर प्रयोग करताना पाहातो आणि ऐकतो.

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Who is instrumental?

November 16, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | 5 comments

Published in DNA April, 2007

One has noticed the odd article or news item in the recent past drawing the reader’s attention to musicians patenting their inventions. Some musicians have also made it a point to include such information in their bio-sketches, a move prompted more by the need to ‘safeguard’ against any contrary claims from others in the fraternity than by any business motives. While this may even be an inevitable ramification of the professionalism that a global economy demands, one can’t ignore the fact that it would have been impossible for musicians to construct new instruments or make structural changes in existing instruments without vital contribution from instrument-makers.

Admittedly, the extent of the instrument-makers’ role depends upon the nature of the innovation desired. Lessening or increasing the number of sympathetic strings would require a different level of expertise than would be demanded of the instrument-maker when experimenting with a completely new body for the instrument. Then again, some innovations would perhaps require a more physical but less intellectual role, but others may require a high degree of sensitivity about tonal variation and tuning.

Whatever be the case, it is quite clear that instrument-makers have played a crucial role in crafting Indian instruments. It is well-known among musicians that instrument-makers have at various points of time suggested or made alterations to instruments in a bid to achieving better sound and making instruments more amenable to the needs of musicians. In most cases, they have not articulated their role in this regard, but this does not in any way lessen its significance. This is obvious from the fact that certain manufacturing peculiarities have made the makers’ names inseparable from some instruments. Take the case of Hiren Roy’s sitars, Hemen Sen’s sarods, Limaye’s flutes, Vishnu Sutar’s tablas or the Mirajkar tanpuras. One has to only do a Google search on some of these names or read through the Indian music newsgroups on the net, to find the avid interest among musicians and students in good quality instruments crafted by these instrument makers.

In sharp contrast, while awards for instrument-makers have been instituted through non-government organisations, they still remain far from the limelight that performers enjoy. One has yet to come across important awards at the national level going to instrument-makers. Far from them making zillions out of the business, they are even discouraging their progeny from taking to the same vocation. In cases where there is no conscious effort at discouragement, the next generation has chosen to steer clear of this vocation and to pursue more steady means of supporting themselves.

We need to take a cue from this state of affairs and discuss possible ways of recognising the contribution of instrument-makers, which they so richly deserve. We can continue writing about the need to patent innovations and inventions, but we need to equally make sure that instrument-makers are made partners in the process. They will retain their importance, so long as acoustic hand-crafted instruments are the mainstay of Indian music. But discussions need to be held with instrument-makers, to evolve ways in which their work can move a step further from looking at short-term benefits to a more professionally managed business that would make it a more attractive proposition for the next generation.

Hindustani music finds a ‘rudali’

October 23, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | 1 comment

An Open Letter to the Outlook Magazine in response to its cover story for the September 25, 2006 issue.

Congratulations on striking the death knell for Hindustani classical music! One can’t quite remember the last time that Outlook did a cover story or a feature on classical music, but I am happy that you have chosen to don the role of the ‘rudali’ in the absence of anything else.

On a more serious note, Arindam Mukherjee’s article has left many musicians like me completely dumbfounded. He has done little to mask the lack of effort, scholarship and originality in his piece.

How long will we continue to go down the same path every time a senior musician passes away? Sure, it is an irreplaceable loss and a legacy that needs to be cherished, but it isn’t the most original of ideas to lament that the departure of a senior musician forebodes the end of Hindustani music. Here’s a request to Mukherjee and to Outlook – do come up with something more original. It pains one to read an Outlook issue that is searching high and low for possible story angles, even if it amounts to creating a ghost out of a living tradition.

Less said the better about the level of scholarship that Mukherjee’s article exhibits. It need hardly be said that traditions do not exist solely because of the acts of single individuals, but because of a variety of circumstances that are of far greater consequence. Merely listing the country’s best known Hindustani musicians and their prominent disciples and heirs, makes a mockery of a rich tradition. It has been well over a century of ups and downs, of tireless efforts on the part of many that have led to Hindustani music becoming a more democratised space. Amateurs took to learning and performing this music after much resistance from several quarters and we finally reached a stage when people from outside families of hereditary musicians took to music as a profession. The Hindustani music tradition is not and never was dependant upon the continuance of ‘dynasties’ of musicians, as Mukherjee would have us believe. Individuals come and go; geniuses sense the pulse of the moment and take a leap forward leading the rest of society. But culture is the result of several social, economic and political forces acting at many levels. Indeed, there are problems that pervade Hindustani music and many other traditional arts in the country, but to portray the absence of ‘heirs’ to the maestros as the core issue is an absurdity.

Mukherjee has elicited the typical one-line quick-fix statements from maestros who have trained several students. Agreed, that these students may not be performing at the best-known venues and music festivals at home and abroad, but with a bit of effort on his part, Mukherjee could have spoken to these disciples to learn more about their reality. He would have then been able to get a better idea of what ails the Hindustani music tradition. And even this would be only a part of the answer. For a more complete picture to emerge, one would have to step out of one’s tearing schedule of meeting deadlines and creating a sensation out of a non-issue. By doing so, Mukherjee would even be able to access positive occurrences within the tradition. He would then realize that young people continue to take to learning and performing; that an essentially oral tradition continues to exist and prosper when the scholastic tradition also moves in tandem – one has only to study the recent researches in Hindustani music carried out by scholars; that the tradition has senior representatives other than the more identifiable ones and that the former also contribute by training young disciples.

For the next time that Outlook and Mukherjee wish to do a story on Hindustani music – hopefully, before the demise of another senior musician – here are a few pointers from an insider to the tradition.

You could look at the positive aspects mentioned earlier. Please don’t have huge photographs of young musicians and bits from their biodatas and another string of one-line statements from them. Please, please exercise your imagination just this once.

And if you are wishing to highlight problems, you could examine the relevance and status of Hindustani music in society, look closely at the ‘business’ aspect of music-making, or discuss the aesthetic perceptions of musicians today.

DJ Divine

September 23, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | 15 comments

It is well over a century since Maharashtra first saw the public celebration of the Ganesh festival or what is more commonly called Sarvajanik Ganeshotsav. The use of these public festivities as a political weapon by Lokmanya Tilak during the colonial period is a well-known fact. But it would be relevant to remember at this point that these celebrations always featured music performances and other events of a high intellectual order.

Eminent vocalist Bhaskarbuwa Bakhale performed every year during the Brahman Sabha Ganpati celebrations, and his disciple Krishnarao Phulambrikar, more popularly known as Master Krishnarao, was also invited to sing at the celebrations held at the Gandharva Mahavidyalaya. Other vocalists like Vinayakrao Patwardhan and Narayanrao Vyas also performed at Sarvajanik Ganeshotsavs. Importantly, these Ganeshotsavs also gave an opportunity to amateur performers.

Evidently, the association of the deity Ganesh with Indian performing arts has been a long one. He is propitiated before undertaking a new project or performance, and qualities that the god is said to embody are featured in performance repertoire like Ganesh vandana (invocation) or Ganesh paran (a special composition for pakhawaj/tabla solo repertoire).

Why then is it that we only seem to hear perfunctory aartis today that soon give way to the Top Ten Bollywood numbers? While record labels compete with each other to release the latest Ganpati bhajans just before Ganesh Chaturthi, they seem to be blissfully unaware of traditional repertoire that lies unexplored and that faces near extinction.

Is this not yet another sign of the times we live in, where diversity in music and other walks of life is facing a serious threat? Amidst all the celebrations, do we not need to give adequate attention to this aspect? In a culture that has had different kinds of music associated with various stages of human life, do we now stand as mute witnesses and allow Bollywood music and dance to take over every aspect of our lives?

To the mind of a rationalist, it may matter little whether the Sarvajanik Ganeshotsav celebrations feature a classical performance or DJ nite, but if truly concerned about preserving the diversity of Indian culture, even the rationalist will need to take a stand on issues such as these.

Confluence of musical streams

July 3, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | 12 comments

This is an unedited version of a piece that was published in the DNA, July 1, 2006

The need to articulate musical concepts related to technique, repertoire and more, has been an ongoing pursuit for many scholars of Hindustani music. The introduction of the print medium in India, enabled scholars, other intellectuals and musicians to communicate music-related material to the music loving public since the nineteenth century. But there has been a palpable divide between the scholastic and performing streams of Hindustani music with practitioners of both viewing each other with suspicion and antagonism.

In such an atmosphere, the contribution of eminent scholar-musician Dr. Ashok Ranade assumes special significance, as he has successfully brought together the two streams through his writings in English and Marathi, and through related work spanning over three decades. He has maintained consistently that performers have always theorized, but that they must now articulate these concepts, particularly so if they believe others do a shoddy job of it!

His own training in vocal music with learned musicians belonging to diverse styles, and his research in folk and other forms of music have made him a proud inheritor of a rich and large body of knowledge. This strong foundation and his incessant inquiry into the nuances of the performing and scholastic traditions, has led Dr. Ranade to make one of the most seminal contributions to the world of Indian music in the form of his latest publication Music-contexts: A Concise Dictionary of Hindustani Music. The work defines and records a host of technical terms related to repertoire, performance practice, and specific occasions that occur in the musicians’ milieu. It also provides the reader with etymological details. But above all, it demystifies North Indian music by moving away from the conventional adjectival approach that most other endeavours of this nature have adopted in the past.

Addressing the heterogeneous nature of Indian music, Dr. Ranade has always spoken in favour of breaking down preconceived hierarchies and barriers within musical categories and genres. His writings on folk music, theatre music and Hindi film music substantiate his claim and his forthcoming publication entitled Hindi Film Song: Music without Boundaries promises to be a real treat for music lovers in this context.

A staunch believer in the inseparable relationship between the practice and theory of music, Dr. Ranade has not restricted himself to writing on music and theatre. He has lent his expertise to composition for film, theatre, and art music. His thematic concerts, workshops and lectures are a sheer treat to students of music and theatre and performers like me. The incisive interviews he conducted with many notable musicians during the days of black and white television are still fresh in my memory.

One of India’s pioneer ethnomusicologists, Dr. Ranade’s perceptive vision has given definite shape to several important institutions in the country, which have in turn benefited students of music in a major way. Feted by several prestigious non-government organizations in India and abroad, Dr. Ranade continues to work tirelessly to disseminate information related to Hindustani music in all its splendour.

Shobha Gurtu

June 20, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | No comments

This is an unedited version of an article that appeared in the Tehelka, October 9, 2004

Yesterday, we lost one of India’s finest voices. Yesterday, another window into the past was shut on us. Yesterday, I lost Shobhatai – more familiar to music lovers as Shobha Gurtu, the 79 year old thumri exponent who left an indelible mark on the hearts and minds of innumerable fans.

As a child, I heard Shobha Gurtu on television, and found myself immediately caught under the magic spell of her voice. Little did I know then that I would have the opportunity of accompanying Shobhatai on the tabla for well over a decade - an association that went well beyond a mere professional arrangement between a main artiste and an accompanying musician. I feel privileged to have been permitted entry into a space that is normally reserved for close family. But this would not have been so, had it not been for Shobhatai’s open-hearted manner, her ability to cross-over and connect with those several years her junior, in age and experience. It was perhaps this very quality that engaged her listeners across generations.

In many ways, Shobhatai remained a child at heart often remembering her childhood days. Though born in Belgaum, she would narrate anecdotes of her early initiation into music in Kolhapur where her mother learnt from Ustad Bhurji Khan, the youngest son of Ustad Alladiya Khan (founder of the Jaipur-Atrauli gharana). As a young girl, Shobhatai had a keen observation and could mimic compositions and other musical material that her mother was being taught. She soon became a favourite with Ustad Bhurji Khansaheb’s family and spent long hours in their company. Later, the Jaipur-Atrauli tie was strengthened when she studied with Ustad Alladiya Khan’s nephew Ustad Natthan Khan. But her musicianship flowered under the guidance of Ustad Ghamman Khan, who had been engaged to teach her mother thumri-dadra and allied forms. Ustad Ghamman Khan also taught young Shobha these forms during his stay with the family in Mumbai. After her marriage, Shobhatai received guidance from her father-in-law Narayannath Gurtu, a highly-placed officer in the Belgaum police force but a sitar player by passion.

Given the various musical streams that had influenced Shobhatai in her formative years, it was left to her to make sense of it all and develop a style that was unique to her. While focusing her attention on thumri-dadra, chaiti, kajri, and such other forms, she intelligently introduced in her thumri singing, taan (fast melodic passages) patterns and glimpses of jod ragas (compound ragas) like Basanti Kedar and achhop ragas (rare ragas) like Bahaduri Todi, which she had inherited through her Jaipur-Atrauli association. Not for a moment did this take away from the emotive aspect of her singing. In fact, her voice had an endearing quality that attracted the listeners even before she launched into a thumri. Though not a trained dancer like her mother, she would at times introduce adaa/abhinaya (gestures) to highlight a particular line from the text. While transforming herself from one singing of playful or coy Radha-Krishna dalliances to one yearning for union with the Ultimate, Shobhatai demonstrated her inimitable style of musically acting out each of these roles. This ability was seen even in the rare appearances she made as a singer for Hindi and Marathi film and non-film songs, and in the collaborative ventures heard on her son Trilok’s jazz albums.

Shobhatai’s unique style won her many fans round the world and brought her several awards, the Padma Bhushan coming as crowning glory. But despite all the public acclaim, Shobhatai remained humble right through. Her humility was evident in the manner she carried herself at concerts, interacting freely on and off the stage with accompanying musicians like eminent harmonium player Pandit Purushottam Walwalkar and me. She even looked forward to spending lighter moments with us, at times cracking jokes and at others talking about food and special recipes!

We will miss Shobhatai, but we will cherish the moments we spent with her. Her music will live with us through her recordings and through the students she trained over the years. She will long be remembered as one of the last vocalists to have specialized in and contributed to the thumri-dadra forms.

Her voice trailing off at the end of the Bhairavi bhajan with which she would often conclude her performances will continue to haunt me . . .

Saiyaan nikas gaye, main naa ladi thi raam

Ustad Allauddin Khan Sangeet Academy

June 20, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | No comments

This is an unedited version of a piece that appeared in the Times of India, Mumbai, Februay 25, 2004

Renaming institutions to ostensibly bring back lost glory and to weed out foreign elements in Indian society has been a favourite pastime of the saffron brigade. The recent move to rechristen the Ustad Allauddin Khan Sangeet Academy, Bhopal, by Anup Mishra, Minister for Culture in the Madhya Pradesh BJP Government, therefore does not come as a complete surprise (TT 7/2/2004). The move prompted by the Minister’s grand discovery of the Ustad’s so-called Bangladeshi origins, smacks of ignorance and intolerance. Classical musicians across gharanas are angered by this total disregard for the respect that Ustad Allauddin Khan commands to this day. The Minister, who happens to be the poet Prime Minister’s nephew, has obviously not bothered to check facts before making this ridiculous demand. What could have prompted this ill-informed behaviour? Is it the mad race to win more votes in the next general elections on just about any agenda, is it a craving for cheap publicity, or is it part of a more sinister plot to change history to suit a sectarian and parochial view of Indian society much in the same vein as is being done through changes being introduced in school text-books?

The Minister for Culture in his haste to turn the issue into a contentious one has got his dates wrong. Bangladesh did not exist when Ustad Allauddin Khan moved from his hometown Shibpur to Kolkata, Rampur, and thereafter to Maihar in Madhya Pradesh. It is common knowledge that many people including reputed artistes residing in erstwhile East Bengal or present-day Bangladesh, moved to West Bengal before Partition. However, Ustad Allauddin Khan migrated to Kolkata much earlier to pursue his study of music. If the Minister for Culture had only consulted with the Sangh Parivar, he would have learnt that Ustad Allauddin Khan also studied music with Habu Dutt, the brother of Swami Vivekananda. Later, the Ustad spent several decades of his life as court musician in Maihar and died there a year after the formation of Bangladesh. The issue of his being Bangladeshi is therefore redundant.

Students of music and music lovers are familiar with the monumental contribution of Ustad Allauddin Khan to the world of sarod and to Indian music. His musical legacy has been popularised by eminent disciples Pandit Ravi Shankar, Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, Smt. Annapurna Devi, Pandit Pannalal Ghosh, Pandit Nikhil Bannerjee, and a host of others. The Maihar Band started by Ustad Allauddin Khan, incorporating Indian and Western instruments, was a milestone in Indian ensemble music. Indeed, Ustad Allauddin Khan’s genius has placed Maihar on the global music map, a fact that the Culture Minister should have realised before launching his tirade.

And if indeed Ustad Allauddin Khan was a Bangladeshi, why was the Padma Vibhushan, one of the India’s highest civilian awards bestowed upon him? Of course, BJP leader Pramod Mahajan would lead the chorus against this honour for different reasons. For, was it not Mahajan, who publicly denounced the bestowing of these civilian awards on musicians who he chose to denigrate as gaanewalas and bajaanewalas? If Ustad Allauddin Khan was indeed some run-of-the-mill “gayak” as the Minister for Culture chooses to describe him, why did the government issue a stamp commemorating the Ustad in 1999?

Ustad Allauddin Khan does not need certificates to prove his Indianness from anyone, much less from the Minister for Culture in the Madhya Pradesh government. Quite clearly, the Ustad’s deep respect for Islam and Hinduism prevented the Minister from playing the communal card. The Minister has for some inexplicable reason remembered the musical worth of Tansen and now wants the Academy to be renamed as Tansen Academy. One wonders whether we will continue to be mute witnesses when the Minister informs us in the years to come that even Tansen is not to be regarded Indian, because of his purported conversion to Islam and because of his service in the Mughal durbar.

Culture policy

June 20, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | No comments

This is an unedited version of a piece that appeared in the DNA, Mumbai, February 18, 2006

Come January and arts’ circles are abuzz with rumours about possible Padma awardees.  Not before long, hopes and anxieties are met or put to rest, when the headlines carry the final list of awardees.  And the government makes its ‘commitment’ to the arts evident to the people of this country by way of yet another of these token gestures. 

Looking back though, one finds that national leaders in the past had shown a greater concern for the arts.  Classical or art music was supported during colonial rule by sections of the Indian intellectual elite.  This patronage was inspired by a larger agenda of bolstering symbols of national cultural identity that had stood the test of time and that could portray a rich heritage to counter the colonial racial antagonism.  Classical music became a symbol of the nascent national consciousness that rose against colonial rule.  Not surprisingly then, Dadabhai Naoroji, the ‘Grand Old Man of India’, frequently advised the Parsi Gayan Uttejak Mandali, perhaps the first formal music club in Mumbai. He was later made President of this club and held this office between the years 1885 and 1890.  While it is not certain from available writings, whether Naoroji was an ardent admirer of Indian music, it is clear that his acceptance of this position was a tacit approval of the Mandali’s musical activities.  The Mandali promoted music performance and education among families among amateurs, at a time when these activities were the sole preserve of hereditary musicians and courtesans.  That these families of musicians and courtesans had to bear the brunt of social stigma from some sections of society, is another issue and one that would demand a separate discussion.

But going further, enlightened intellectuals like the eminent jurist K.T. Telang and the scholar R.G. Bhandarkar took to learning music from the reputed vocalist Balkrishnabuwa Ichalkaranjikar, who had trained in the Gwalior gayaki and resided in Mumbai at the time. 

Moving on to the twentieth century, leaders like Lala Lajpatrai were admirers of vocalist and educationist Vishnu Digambar Paluskar, who set up the Gandharva Mahavidyalaya in Lahore to promote music education and popularize the art.  Later, Paluskar moved the headquarters of the school to Mumbai and Madan Mohan Malaviya, Sarojini Naidu, Lokmanya Tilak and Mahatma Gandhi visited the vidyalaya premises on various occasions. 

The importance given by national leaders to music in their personal lives will remain a mystery, but one can get faint glimpses from scattered references, naturally at the cost of these being biased.  M.R. Jayakar, a noted barrister and music lover, notes in his autobiography that he did not find many keen music lovers among the Congress leaders, other than Chittaranjan Das and Rangaswami Iyengar, though Mahatma Gandhi on occasions had shared with him his desire to enjoy music at Jayakar’s hometown.

Though the latter did not happen, it is equally true that Gandhi spoke in favour of music education and the need to make music a part of one’s life.  Gandhi’s insistence on making music a part of everyday life was influenced greatly by his urge to spiritually awaken the masses, and to that extent therefore, did not directly concern the promotion of music per se.  Consequently, he stated, “It is sad that the study of music is generally neglected in our country today.  Without it, the entire educational system seems to me to be incomplete . . . Music pacifies anger and its judicious use is highly helpful in leading a man to the vision of God”. (The Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi, Vol.37, p.2).  In pursuance of his ideal, he requested Paluskar to send a good musician to Ahmedabad for setting the Sabarmati ashram bhajans to music.  Paluskar sent his disciple Narayan Moreshwar Khare, who set several bhajans to tune and these were published without notation in a compilation entitled Ashram Bhajanavali.  Khare became an inseparable part of the ashram and was one of the prominent figures who accompanied Gandhi during the Dandi March.

Even later, the correspondence between some Congress leaders shows at times, a concern for the quality of music and its dissemination.  In a letter to Sardar Vallabhai Patel, the Minister for Information and Broadcasting in the Interim Government, Maulana Azad sent his comments on music broadcasts on the All India Radio.  He stated, “You perhaps do not know that I have always taken a keen interest in Indian music and at one time practiced it myself.  It has, therefore, been a shock to me to find that the standard of music of All India Radio broadcast is extremely poor.  I have always felt that All India Radio should set the standard in Indian music and lead to its continual improvement.  Instead, the present programmes have an opposite effect and lead one to suspect that the artistes are sometimes chosen not on grounds of merit.”  (The Selected Works of Maulana Abul Kalam Azad: Vol.III–1947-48, p.28).  Coming from a senior leader, this would seem quite out of place in the current scheme of things, where leaders at the highest level are far removed from the ground reality or then choose to simply neglect it.  The present state of music on the government broadcasting networks is abysmally low, what with the sharp decline in recordings and a constant need felt to raise TRP ratings in the face of competition from private networks.  That innovative programming can possibly raise TRP ratings is something that has perhaps not occurred to the bureaucracy and to those in power.  Meanwhile, artistes are left high and dry to locate potential sponsors for their broadcasts.

Jawaharlal Nehru also noted the importance that the arts needed to receive and it was during the Nehruvian era that the country saw the birth of cultural institutions like the Sangeet Natak Akademi.  The Indian Council for Cultural Relations sent delegations consisting of top-ranking artistes overseas to encourage cultural exchange between countries.  

But what has become of these noble ideals?  Are we to stop where we began, or do we go forward from here?  I am not for a moment suggesting that nothing of value has been done in the past decades.  However, we seem to lack a holistic view.  Government policy cannot rest on the enlightened outlook shared by a few individuals.  Also, recognition of personal talent and contribution to the arts is welcome, but cannot replace the need for a wider perspective.  The governments at the Centre and the State need to look at culture policy afresh, if indeed such a policy exists.  They need to come up with a policy that would be relevant to the rapidly changing situation in the country and across the world.  The examples from the past indicate the role that subjects like music education and performance had to play in public discourse at the time.  Naturally, reasons for laying a greater emphasis on the promotion of classical music need to be examined separately.  But for now, we could take cognizance of the lessons from history that direct us to the course that we need to take. 

The Reality of the Accompanist

June 20, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | No comments

This article was first published in Economic and Political Weekly, Vol XLI No.21, May 27-June 2, 2006 

Lakshmi Subramanian’s article (EPW, April 8-14, 2006) on the role of the accompanist in the larger aesthetic of Indian music presented a fresh look at the issue, particularly so, after the now media-sensationlised and much-hyped ‘Shanmukhananda Hall’ episode.  Ironically, it took an episode of involving celebrity musicians to bring media attention to the role of the accompanist, and yet, the discussion that ensued over the next few days in leading dailies was restricted to trivia, without any attempt at understanding the dialectic in the music that has given rise to the current image of the accompanist.   Moreover, public memory being what it is, the episode remains but another anecdote for music lovers and musicians to be recounted over and over again, often with added masala, completely skirting the more important issue at hand.  Subramanian’s article was therefore a welcome change from all this.

Her piece focuses on the Carnatic music experience concerning the role of the accompanist since the nineteenth century. The broader framework of her argument, that of examining Carnatic performance practice and aesthetic in its social context is noteworthy, but as a tabla player interested in a similar study of Hindustani music in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, I would like to present a situation that may be at variance to the position stated by Subramanian.

It is indeed a truism that music does not take place in a social vacuum, but it is equally true that all musical trends need not always stem from the extra-musical situation.  In other words, factors like patronage certainly play a role in deciding the fate of artistic expression, but they are not solely responsible for the same.    Any assertion of the latter, would not only take away from the individual’s role in shaping the music, but would even paint musicians as a gullible bunch of performers, willing to be pushed any which way if only for a bit of patronage.  Meaning no disrespect to listeners, vocal compositions on the intelligence of the listeners or the lack of it are proof enough of the musical ingenuity of the performer!

As with most things related to the oral tradition in India, the evolution of musical forms and the reasons for the rise and decline in popularity of instruments are aspects often shrouded in mystery.  The lack of documentary proof and the prevalence of anecdotal references that are often tailored to suit the narrator’s purpose have made these aspects a problematic area of examination and analysis.  Even so, we can attempt at assessing the logic supporting phrases like “Uttam gaanaa, madhyam bajaanaa” – phrases that have been used in common parlance among Hindustani musicians.

Instruments in Hindustani music are used today in two formats – solo and accompaniment.  Until the eighteenth century, they were primarily used to accompany the dhrupad form.  The decline of dhrupad and the rising popularity of khayal and thumri, relegated the pakhawaj and been, rhythmic and melodic accompanying instruments to dhrupad, to the background.  Conversely, this led to the rise of tabla and sarangi, the rhythmic and melodic accompanying instruments to khayal and thumri. 

The aesthetic basis of khayal and thumri was significantly different from that of dhrupad, though all three forms adhered to the raag-taal paradigm in varying degrees.  This basis manifested itself in khayal through the vistaar or free-flowing melodic elaboration with percussion accompaniment.  Earlier, dhrupad had free-flowing melodic exposition of the raag in the form of an aalaap or a long prelude to the composition.  The elaboration of the composition was largely rhythm-bound, allowing and even demanding an anticipatory role from the pakhawaj player.  Thus, the dialogue between the singer and the percussionist was more overt and mathematical, interestingly, much in the same vein as the current Carnatic music aesthetic. 

There were different styles of khayal, some of which were more influenced by the dhrupad framework, and yet the emphasis on free-flowing melody with percussion accompaniment was quite evident.  Consequently, the demands placed on the role of the percussionist in this musical dialogue were different from those in the dhrupad form.  The need for a uniform rhythmic canvas was important for this free-flowing melodic exposition.  This had nothing to do with the presentation of a new ‘streamlined’ performance, nor does one come across a discourse among music-lovers, critics and scholars to this effect.  It had nothing to do with making the performance a more accessible musical experience for the listener.  It had more to do with the specific requirements of the musical form. 

It is well-known that certain Indian intellectuals influenced by a Victorian sense of morality labeling of women singer-dancers as being a ‘debauched’ lot led to the social stigmatization of these performers and by the same token of musicians in general, many of whom were associated with them as teachers or accompanists.  The shoddy treatment meted out to tabla and sarangi players even among the community of musicians was also due primarily to the condescending attitude towards thumri and its practitioners.  But this did not in any way tell upon the importance of tabla in a thumri performance.  In the latter case, dance played an important part of the rendition, with the result that the tabla player had to reproduce, anticipate and suggest rhythmic passages that were in tandem with the singer-dancer’s footwork.  This section known as laggi or laggi-chanti was once again a requirement of the form.  In fact, it became such an inseparable part of thumri that even when the dance element was removed from thumri, laggi continued to be played at the tail end of the vocal rendition to bring about a climax.

Concomittantly, changes in the construction of instruments like the sitar and sarod, and the creative genius of some musicians enabled some instruments to move out of their conventional roles like providing accompaniment to vocal music.  They established a solo status for themselves and developed repertoire that was specific to instrumental solo performance and in some ways different from the older dhrupad-based treatment.  Similarly, tabla players built on the language of their instruments and developed solo repertoire involving special forms that were influenced by pakhawaj repertoire and other percussion instruments used in folk music.  Undoubtedly, these changes would not have been possible without the patronage they received, but it would be difficult to map a direct correlation between patronage and other extra-musical factors on the one hand, and the larger aesthetic on the other. 

Also, the foregrounding of one performer from amongst the ensemble in Hindustani music has been and is as much due to the peculiar nature of the music as to the professional arrangement between soloist and accompanists.  Musical decisions of performance repertoire and general presentation may be taken by the performers if they consider themselves members of a team, but those of pitch and instant tempo changes are and have been the prerogative of the soloist.  This does not have anything to do with the status of the accompanist.  The social status of the accompanist is in fact determined by extraneous factors like the ratio and mode of distributing fees (in most cases, even to this day, payments are made directly to the main performer by the patron - whether corporate, government, or individual patron), or the publicity of the event (it is not uncommon to find huge advertisements with no mention of the accompanists).  This in turn colours the manner in which the accompanist is regarded by the general public, though musically the accompanist in many cases contributes much to the performance and is equally free to do so without any reproach on the part of the main performer.  Of course, there are those who feel threatened if the accompanist plays well and also receives applause from the audience, but that is something that does not even merit mention here.

We also need to take note of the fact that the early recordings of Hindustani music whether from the acoustic or electrical eras, used a single microphone, with the result that the main performer was seated closest to the device and the rest of the ensemble sat behind him or her.  The muffled sound of the accompaniment on these recordings, does not therefore represent the nature of the accompaniment in those times, and if at all only projects it as a secondary entity in the entire performance.  The disc jackets then and the CD covers even to this day rarely mention the accompanists’ names prominently.  Once again, these circumstances do not take away from the music or do not determine the nature of the accompaniment or the musical relation between the main performer and the accompanists.

Clearly, the musical reality is not always commensurate with the social and economic reality.  The flip side of the argument also needs to be discussed briefly.  There are times when lovers of Hindustani music swear by the music they had heard several decades ago, when the accompaniment was ostensibly less ‘noisy’ or when the tabla player did not ‘play the song’ on the instrument (meaning thereby that the tabla player did not anticipate the melody and text and reproduce it on the instrument – an element that is considered by many old-timers as a device only to cater to uninformed listeners).  Similarly, there are many who believe that the recognition tabla has received in the West in a variety of musical situations, has harmed the general tone of an art music concert, with the tabla player either straying into musical areas that are not customary for Hindustani art music or with him or her demanding louder amplification.  Leaving aside the subjectivity of such opinions, if indeed this freedom to place demands on the amplification and the music is considered an indication of the rising social status of the accompanists, then nothing could be further from the truth.  The attention is still focused on the main performer, though the accompanists may contribute equally in heightening the musical experience of the listener.

The musical inputs of the accompanists in Hindustani music may often be driven by the need to making a personal display of their talents, but there is no denying the fact that the inner dynamic of the musical forms also demands such inputs.  Such inputs may be guided by a need to cater to a larger and diverse audience, but this is not a ground rule.  While some accompanists may gain popularity due to their talent, their status as accompanists does not always change to their benefit. 

Finally, one also needs to remember that in the performance context, musicians often take spot decisions based on the relation they share with their co-artistes.  Today, the status or level of expertise of a tabla player is often judged by his or her ability to render solo passages while accompanying a vocalist or instrumentalist.  However, the aesthetic involved in accompanying Hindustani music has a much deeper intent and may involve but is not necessarily restricted to solo passages.  Even the most understated accompaniment can enhance the beauty of the performance, and once again, this is a decision that is not always guided by extraneous factors.  

 

Indian musicians and organisers overseas

May 14, 2006 in Articles by Aneesh | No comments

This is an unpublished response to an article that appeared in the Times of India in March 2006

The Times of India, Mumbai, on April 3, 2006, carried a thought-provoking article by Bella Jaisinghani bringing into sharp focus the issue of work-related injuries that musicians could suffer from. However, Jaisinghani’s article published on March 26, 2006 appeared to lack the balanced approach that her writing otherwise displays. This article contained a description of the supposed misdemeanor of Indian musicians traveling abroad and the manner in which they ostensibly exploit every possible situation giving grief to the local organizers and hosts.

We are aware that some musicians traveling abroad interact with concert organizers and hosts with an opportunism that is most reprehensible, but one cannot paint the whole fraternity with the same brush. Besides, do we not often come across some non-musicians acting as insensitively with their hosts abroad? Obviously, this is a problem specific to some individuals, who would perhaps act in an equally pathetic fashion if they were traveling within India or for that matter would behave in a similar manner with organizers in their own cities.

More importantly, the article would have been more balanced had some musicians been interviewed. We would like to put on record that it is not uncommon to find organizers overseas, who would prefer to save a few dollars rather than make the musicians’ stay a truly comfortable one. To put it in plain terms, musicians are often asked to stay in homes of music lovers whom the organizers liase with. Often, the visiting troupe is split up and housed at different places, causing great inconvenience to the musicians. But it is even more frustrating to see that NRI organizers act in this manner more than the non-NRI ones. One is then left wondering whether the NRI organizers respect musicians for their worth, or are the latter regarded only as vehicles to bring some sort of cultural identity into the lives of these NRIs. Agreed that hotel costs are prohibitive and that extra money can be channelised into what may seem to be more profitable activity from the point of view of the organizer. Or that organizers are worried musicians would take undue advantage of their hotel stay. But this is only partly true, as all musicians are not alike, much the same way as all organizers not being alike.

We do not for a moment wish to ignore the warm hospitality that music lovers abroad extend despite their busy work schedules. Nor do we wish to ignore the contribution of organizers abroad, but the tone of ‘sacrifice’ and ‘service’ that they often choose to project, is more in the nature of gaining sympathy rather than a statement of fact. Is it not equally true that a musician’s performing career is preceded by long years of dedicated practice, that this practice and learning was undertaken not with an assurance or even a dream of the material benefits that may accrue? If indeed organizers choose to ‘promote’ Indian music abroad or even in India, it should only be because of their love for the art and for no other reason. And then, if you do love a particular activity, one would imagine you would try to do the utmost to accomplish what you have set out to. For, has anyone come across a musician who complains of having to practice long hours to excel in the art – certainly not the sincere ones.

In most cases, in India and abroad, organizers and musicians have no written contracts outlining terms and conditions. Even the fees are often discussed over a phone call and the making of audio-video recordings of the concerts is regarded as a prerogative of the organizers, obviously the latter being done without so much as letting the musicians know, let alone seeking permission from them for such recordings. Incidentally, the law all over the world demands that the permission from the musicians has to be sought prior to any recording of the concert. Further, even when contracts exist, organizers often flout the very terms that the contract set out to clarify.

In the light of these circumstances, organizers and musicians are both to blame for certain unpleasant situations. We have only touched upon some problematic areas, but we must reiterate that situations such as these do not occur every now and again, and are certainly not the mainstay of every organizer-musician interaction either in India or abroad.

Shubha Mudgal and Aneesh Pradhan