I t is always interesting to see how, in a seminar, each scholar perceives and interprets the title. At a recent seminar in Mumbai – titled, Indian Music: Then and Now -- organized by the Indian Musicological Society in collaboration with Sangeet Natak Akademi, National Centre for the Performing Arts and Music Forum, most scholars coming from different parts of the country, representing different forms of music, put the “Then” at least 2000 years from “Now”. Some went to even earlier periods in time: therefore, the approach, mostly, was historic.
Whether it was the session on Indian instruments or vocal music, most speakers, assiduously went through the pages of history, putting on record every step in evolution. The sitar appeared in Delhi court before 1740, the sarod has come from the rabab… etc. -- such material abounded in the three-day seminar. Factual history does have an important place in the study of history, however, in the spectrum of “then” to “now”, doesn’t human endeavor have a place beyond the physical and tangible elements?
But there was light: the scholar Pappu Venugopal Rao stressed the importance of the “question”, Pandit Ajoy Chakraborty was certain music was about “touch”, violinist Sriram Parusharam emphatically described the “process of music”, Kalamandalam Piyal Bhattacharya brought alive the ancient text Natyashastra in its “applied” form, and more. These scholars, with their unusual and exhaustive reading of historical processes, seemed to say that the inner response to the external processes of history, forms its “then” and “now”.
“Kalidasa himself said all that is old is not necessarily good,” recalled Pappu Venugopal Rao, who, with fine balance and restraint, said “ancient treatises have to be reread to find new ways and means to present it to the next generation.” Deviate, deflect, innovate – as long as your roots are strong.
“Tradition,” he said, “has thrived on questioning.” If more than 100 manuscripts of Natyashastra have survived, if the Vedas have lived on without manuscripts, it is an indicator of the strength of oral tradition. “Go to a guru and not to google. Study these texts, quarrel and engage with them to find their relevance for today,” he expounded.
Tradition is about a quarrel, violinist Sriram Parusharam seemed to agree. This conflict is however located in the realms of the creative landscape of the musician – hence, the violin is today able to produce seamless and dynamic registers. “Music making” is not merely about how the instrument journeys, it is also about what the human mind aspires through that change. Speaking of remarkable violinists Itzhak Perlman, and Niccolo Paganini, the pillars of modern violin techniques, Sriram fascinatingly opened up their imagination which could bring most complex forms of expression on the instrument. Back home, Tirukkodikaval Krishna Iyer and Dwaram Venkataswamy Naidu not only perfected the technique, but also worked on a tonal range that was close to the human voice. “Listen to this,” said Sriram, and in the Dwaram-way played the kriti Manavyala in Nalinakanti. The improvisational techniques, and heightening the emotional development with each sangati was so exceptional that it produced a tonal range close to vocal. This is perhaps why “the violin took precedence over veena”, he explained. Post these two brilliant violinists, their rendition and improvisation, became the model for vocal musicians. This was contrary to the belief that the instrumentalist aspires to vocalize his technique.
For artistes like Sriram Parusharam, and renowned tabla player Yogesh Samsi, “then” and “now” were not merely periods in time, but both were dynamic, living mechanisms. It was a continuum in which the human aspiration and the medium through which it expressed itself (instrumental or vocal) was in a constant dialogue: one creatively facilitating the other. Both these musicians, through their dazzling artistry, demonstrated that both the ‘past’ and ‘present’ are living experiences and not frozen in their respective times: they are always in conversation.
“I may have accompanied Pt. Mallikarjun Mansur not less than ten times on the harmonium. From close I have observed his music,” said Pt. Ajoy Chakraborty, speaking about the evolution of thumri. “He was a past master, he intertwined elements of dhrupad, khayal and thumri, but in his treatment of the raga there was austerity, a piety. Today, we are losing our fear for the raga.” In one of the most evocative presentations, Pt. Ajoy Chakraborty described that great music is all about the right “touch”.
Rabindranath Tagore, speaking on music had said, the music of the waves is heard only when it hits the banks. Music therefore, has meaning only when it also happens in the minds of the audience. “For this to happen, your touch should have meaning, and that meaning changes the meaning of music. Touch determines whether it is khayal, thumri or something else,” he explained.
In thumri, you touch upon notes that are otherwise foreign to a raga. For instance, in Shankara, teevra madhyam and shuddha madhyam in Yaman are not allowed, but in a rendition you bring in that perspective. “They are not articulated the way other notes are, but if it is going to beautify your music, you can touch it,” he held, singing some of the most beautiful thumris and ghazals.
However, mixing too many ragas, takes away the beauty, leaving it over embellished.
In a very distinguished presentation, what indeed remained a matter of curiosity was why Pt. Ajoy Chakraborty didn’t remember those amazing women musicians who took thumri to its greatest heights. Why didn’t he remember their iconic artistry with which they became role models to an entire generations of male musicians?
The most uplifting moments of this seminar -- thoughtfully put together by Pt. Arvind Parikh, and Ganesh Kumar -- came when the speakers saw “then” and “now” as processes within every musician and how they, from time to time, artistically resolved these conflicts. A mere historical approach often leaves the listener with doubts – what is the use of going to a past that is 5000 year old? Of what value are ancient treatises? Is past only a period in time? What resonances does it have in the present?
Remembering T.S. Eliot’s lines from Four Quartets :
“What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.”
