Can words capture the enthusiasm of a concert such as this one? Ustad Zakir Hussain – Masters of Percussion, a musical ensemble put together by the inimitable Ustad Zakir Hussain, was a confluence of rhythms that celebrated the diverse streams of percussion, both Indian and global. This musical evening put together by The Hindu with Lakshmi-Saraswati, had six other music stars – V. Selva Ganesh, Steve Smith, Niladri Kumar, Dilshad Khan, Vijay S. Chavan, and Deepak Bhatt -- sharing stage with the unimpeachable Ustad of percussion, Zakir Hussain.
Just a glimpse of Zakir Hussain can send the audience into a frenzy, imagine what happens when he puts his fingers on the tabla – they didn’t know how to stop applauding. The Ustad made repeated requests, and kept saying “baad mein”, but there was no stopping this huge crowd that had crammed into every perceivable corner of the Chowdiah Memorial Hall.
To such an overwhelming reception, the concert opened to the plaintive strains of Sarangi by the young Dilshad Khan. An extremely difficult instrument to master, the sarangi blossomed with the touch of its immensely talented master. The notes of the beautiful Kaushi Kanada flowed seamlessly, and everyone including the Ustad himself, could hardly suppress their appreciation for the magnificence of the music.
The ustad, an international phenomenon, has collaborated with the world’s best musicians, but in his essence is rooted in the classical. Opening with the 16-beat rhythm cycle to Sarangi lehra, the Ustad’s relentless study of his medium and the years of formidable hardwork was there for all to see. He played traditional bol patterns which included the top pharan (worked out from the sound of the canon), farmaishi pharan, and others. The rela that followed was stunning for its precision and consistent momentum. However, the patterns that produced the galloping horse effect was populist and clichéd. The Ustad that he is, Zakir Hussain, throughout this first piece made sure that the sarangi was equally fore-grounded and never used it as a mere lehra accompaniment. What was striking was how Zakir Hussain took in the inherent melody of the sarangi into his own playing. One notices this even in album, Music of the Deserts (1993), and in a way, this is a continued journey. The ustad’s percussion shines with an innate melody.
Vijay Chavan on the Maharashtrian dholki – has worked with the best music composers of the film industry – changed the texture of the concert with his stunning entry. Within the framework of the rhythm cycle, his imaginative flights made way for great possibilities. His short sawaal jawaab with the Ustad gave the audience more reason for excitement.
Most of the concert was restricted to the 16-cycle beat. There were small departures, but the teermanams (the resolutions) came back to this format. Choosing this rhythm cycle was deliberate with the intention of making it palatable and simple for the audience. But even with this obvious choice, the genius of a musician lies in the way he handles it; Zakir Hussain made it complex for the self and packed his rendition with challenges. The kind of ideas that the extraordinary Steve Smith and the veteran Selva Ganesh brought into this frame was also truly remarkable. From the cymbals to drums, Steve Smith created magic with his fingers; Selva Ganesh put his entire soul into the little khanjira and the progression that one saw, not just in terms of speed, but in development of ideas and sound textures had the signature of a maestro. There were some impossible moments too – for instance, Selva Ganesh playing the ghatam and khanjira simultaneously, and Vijay Chavan playing dholki and dhamru simultaneously. If there was something that altered the language of listening it was Steve Smith put his entire work into the Carnatic rhythmscape – he recited the konnakol and created a new tonality for the drums.
What moves faster – the sitar virtuoso Niladri Kumar’s fingers or his mind, or does thought and execution happen together in him? After a short, reflective alaap in Jaijaivanti that had the most exquisite meends, Niladri leapt to a supersonic speed where the raga disappeared and mastery dominated. Deepak Bhatt on the Punjabi dhol brought the raw, folk energy and gave an earthy dimension. His joyous rhythmicality infused a dynamism that blended the folk with the classical.
Conformists may not doff their hats for a performance of this kind, but the genius of Zakir Hussain in redoubtable. Even in a concert such as this, where plan and precision are most crucial, the intuitive self of the Ustad is constantly alive. He brings such unpredictable moments into the performance which only an Ustad like him can execute. Even though the 16-beat pattern is common to both Carnatic and Hindustani styles, the stresses and the highs and lows are unique to each system. In a fusion concert, it takes a sensitive musician like Zakir Hussain to enhance these differences and not distort them. He is brilliance coupled with flamboyance, is a combination that’s hard to resist.
