Picture a classical musician, performing riyaaz in a quiet corner, away from the limelight till it’s time to take the stage; then after the accolades, retiring back into that quiet corner for more riyaaz and contemplation, till the next appearance. That picture seems to exist only in literature and period films now. It’s not that this type of artist doesn’t exist. It’s just that the people showering accolades don’t seem to go hunting in quiet corners anymore. Like everyone else in the networked world, the classicists who wish to be heard are meeting the experimentalists, the contemplators are meeting the movers and shakers. And in the process, their seemingly disparate worlds mingle. Hindustani instrumentalist Salil Bhatt wholeheartedly welcomes this mingling. The Jaipur-based Salil is constantly on the lookout for ways to reach out to audiences with his Satvik veena.
Recently he came out with his new album, ‘Satkriti’ (Mystica Music), “dedicated to all daughters”. The album features him playing ragas Jog and Kirwani, accompanied by Himanshu Mahant on the tabla. “My state Rajasthan and states like Punjab and Haryana and Uttar Pradesh are infamous for the atrocities on daughters. The girl child is always at risk and we just do nothing.” On how classical musicians like him can help contribute to eradicating such social evils, he says, “My effort is to create sensible awareness for this cause of honour and safety and well being of daughters all over the world. I appeal to all the fathers to change the way we treat the girl child and make it a better place for them to live peacefully.”
As for helping create a peaceful world, it would be hard to beat a 44-year-old annual initiative in Jaipur that Salil is very proud of, in which classical artists play on the roadside to thousands. It’s not often a musician describes his concert venue as being “on M.I. Road beside Ganapati Plaza.” Salil’s concert began around midnight, and, he says, the crowd was “already 3000-strong.” The event, which takes place around August, is called “Gulab ji Chai Wala Janmashtami Festival” because it is organised by a teashop owner, Gulab ji ‘Chai Wala’ with the help of tabla artist Dashrath Kumar.
This type of “musical roadshow”, organised on “the very central spine of Jaipur city,” remarks Salil, is a “Herculean effort for the promotion of Indian classical music for the common man on the road and to connect them with our culture” and has few parallels. “This is a completely zero-finance concert and I did not take any fees for my concert whatsoever,” he adds.
“The very beautifully done stage is made by the efforts of the poor and homeless people who form the volunteers of this festival each year. This festival attracts more than 4000-strong audience including pavement dwellers, rickshaw pullers, coolies, palledars , shopkeepers, the thelaa wala, thadee owners, junkies, safai karmis , curious bystanders, a few music lovers from the old Pink City and small town artists from all over Rajasthan and other states.”
How does a classical musician tailor his performance to such a diverse audience? Salil, who has given performances in places ranging not only from “Agra to Adelaide, Bandaa to Birmingham, Chitrakoot to Chicago,” but has a similar pair for every letter of the alphabet — barring ‘O’, ‘X’ and ‘Z’— also gets invited to perform at events like the 75th Raising Day anniversary and blood donation camp “to inspire blood donation for the CRPF commandos and soldiers” of the Central Reserve Police Force commando training centre near Shivpuri (Madhya Pradesh).
“When I perform for totally a non-music audience it’s very interesting and very challenging indeed. Evolving and adaptation are the keys to success for any musician,” he says, and proceeds to share his recipe. “For such audiences I take the easy approach. Alap is surely played but of short duration. Before they figure it out I start with a high speed jod and jhaala with all traditional and modern techniques put together. The speed and dazzling display of music catches them from the very start. Then I introduce the tabla with fanfare and the bang opening brings them to jumping, and by the time we rush into the high speed sections the audience is already into a frenzy,” he puts it colourfully. Whether they understand the technicalities or not, “they scream at every sam ,” and that, he feels, “is the very proof that traditional Indian music is very much imbibed in our most common roadside listeners.”
