Raga Hemant: Genesis and trajectory

This essay is now published in my fourth book:

Removing it from here was proper, though not obligatory, in order that my publisher's investment in the book is protected. 

DR

Raga Malti Basant – a rare fragrance of spring

I have had occasion to study Malti Basant while writing a commentary on a recording of it by Ulhas Kashalkar.

Malti Basant is a rare raga of the Marwa parent scale of Hindustani music. Amongst major authoritative sources, the solitary available reference I could find was from the Gwalior maestro, Narayanrao Patwardhan (Raga Vigyan, Vol. VI, 2nd Edition, 1964. Sangeet Gaurav Granthamala, Pune). Patwardhan describes the raga as a fusion of Puriya, Basant, Hindol and Sohini.

Ascent: SNrS/ SG/M^DS’
Descent: SNrND/ M^G/SMM^MG/ M^GrS.

The vadi-samvadi pair (the primary and secondary dominants) is identified as Dh and Ga. The various melodic component ragas are identified as follows:

Basant: M^GMGrS
Puriya: M^GrS-rSN
Hindol: SDNM^D
Sohini: SNrND.

Other than the Ulhas recording, the only readily available recording of the raga was an unpublished concert of Sharafat Hussain Khan (1930-1985) of Agra gharana. Interestingly, Sharafat renders the same vilambit bandish as Ulhas does.

Sharafat’s Malti Basant rendition confirms Dh and Ga as the vadi-samvadi pair of this raga. It also confirms that the raga’s centre of gravity lies in the lower half of the melodic canvas. However, in the poorvanga (lower tetrachord) Sharafat feels free to introduce a touch of Lalit in the raga (NrGM/M^MG) as a substitute for the Basant phrasing (SM/ M^MG). In the uttaranga (upper tetrachord), Sharafat tends to ignore the Hindol ascent (GM^DS’) in favour of the Sohini ascent (M^DNSrS).

In the recording, I also notice an occasional, obviously inadvertent, use of komal (flat) Dh in lieu of the shuddha (natural) Dh characteristic of this raga. In summary, it appears that Sharafat performs Malti Basant as a free amalgam of Marwa, Puriya and Sohini, adding to it a touch of Basant or Lalit with twin-Ma usage. Marwa and Puriya have a stronger presence in his rendering than Sohini because of the poorvanga bias of the raga. The Hindol facet of the raga is substantially played down. In the totality, however, the identifying features of the raga are under control.

Ulhas had the following comments about Malati Basant (message of June 5, 2003): “I have heard Malti Basant from my guru, Gajananrao, and from Latafat Hussain Khan and Babbanrao Haldankar. My impression is that this raga has been sung mainly in the Agra gharana. This raga is actually an old version of raga Basant, which used shuddha (natural) Dh instead of the komal (flat) Dh currently in use. According to Raga Vaibhav, a publication of Gandharva Mahavidyalaya, it was also known as “Mandir Basant”. Although the raga has shades of Puriya, Sohini as well as Basant -- there is no Hindol in it -- it is not a compound raga.”

As is to be expected in performances of rare raga-s, Ulhas’ treatment of the raga differs from its treatment by Sharafat Hussain. Throughout the alap of the vilambit khayal, the Puriya and Basant facets of the raga are treated as parts of a fundamentally seamless melodic entity. However, Ulhas does use the introduction of the Basant facet intermittently as an element of surprise in an otherwise Puriya dominant treatment of the raga. This gives the raga the semblance of a compound raga. The Sohini facet of the raga often gets accidentally highlighted when Ulhas chooses to vary a Puriya phrase (NDM^) and replaces it with a Basant flavoured phrase (NDM), creating an aural image, which approximates the Sohini descent (NDG). In the taans section, the raga takes on a different flavour. Because of the speed of execution, the intonation of Komal (flat) Re, which is already subdued in the Puriya facet of the raga, is subdued even further, while Ga gets emphasised, being an important melodic centre of the raga. As a result, the descending tans occasionally acquire a suggestion either of Hindol with Tivra (sharp) Ma or of Bhinna Shadja with shuddha (natural) Ma.

Historically, as Ulhas suggests, the raga may have evolved as a variant of an equally rare raga currently known as Shuddha Basant or Aadi Basant, also of the Marwa parent scale. This raga was apparently in reasonable circulation in the Dhrupad era, has been performed by Ustad Vilayat Khan in the early 1960’s (unpublished), and by the sitarist, Subroto Roy Choudhry on a CD published by India Archive Music, New York.

The two recordings on hand – those of Ulhas and Sharafat Hussain -- support the view that Malti Basant was not conceived as a compound raga. Like all rare ragas, the grammar of Malti Basant is fluid. These ragas have a few identifying features, which are probably defined by the few bandishes in circulation. Within the boundaries of the bandish, the raga is amenable to variable interpretation, without any major damage to its essential raga-ness.


(c) India Archive Music Ltd. New York

Gundecha Brothers--“Nobody invites a poor musician to perform”

Ramakant and Umakant Gundecha spoke to Deepak Raja on September 2, 1998

In 1981, when we decided to join the Dhrupad Kendra in Bhopal as students, we both had Masters degrees in music, had received several years of training, and had reasonably secure jobs. But, both of us had this longing for music with much greater depth and substance.

Joining the Dhrupad Kendra meant relearning everything from a different perspective, and committing ourselves to Dhrupad as a career. Professionally, this was a high-risk decision to take in those days because the Dhrupad revival was yet to begin. We took the decision because it meant greater personal satisfaction to us as musicians.

In retrospect, there is no reason to regret that decision. We have never asked ourselves whether we might have done better as Khayal singers. Everything seems to have fallen into place. We have received the best possible taleem available in present times. Today, after receiving excellent training in Dhrupad, we are convinced that this is the only music that satisfies us. Over these years, the Dhrupad movement has also gained momentum.

We do not subscribe to the theory that the shortage of competent performers in Dhrupad, or its novelty for a majority of the audiences can explain what we have been able to achieve. Nobody invites a poor musician to perform, no matter how rare his style of singing is. Audiences do not come specifically to hear Khayal or Dhrupad. They come to hear classical music. You either qualify as a classical musician, or you don't. Nothing else matters. This is as true for us, as it was for the pioneers of the Dhrupad revival in modern times -- Ustad Nasir Ameenuddin and Nasir Moinuddin Dagar, better known as the Senior Dagar Brothers.

If we have been able to find a place in the major events of Hindustani music, it is because we are musicians of acceptable quality. The fact that we perform a genre that is not very widely practiced or heard, is an additional, but marginal, consideration.

In a broader context, and for the same reason, we are not in total sympathy with the concept of holding "Dhrupad Sammelans" as a means of promoting Dhrupad. Dhrupad already suffers from having been marginalized by a long absence of competent musicians. You cannot restore Dhrupad to a place of honor in classical music by perpetuating its isolation. You can do so only by producing outstanding musicians, who can compete effectively with performers of other genres in the mainstream of the music world.

And, this is where the distinctive quality of the Dagar gharana's music and its training appears. From the days of the Senior Dagar Brothers, it has become evident, that the style of this gharana has far greater appeal for contemporary audiences than the Dhrupad performed by other gharanas. A very important aspect of this training is the voice-culture practiced in the Dagar family. This training has made a great contribution to the public acceptance of the Dagar style of Dhrupad. And, it is now proven that the training of this gharana has the ability to produce outstanding musicians.

Our Ustads, Zia Moiuddin and Zia Fareeduddin Dagar have been virtual crusaders for the art of Dhrupad. In the Dagar tradition, they have been the first, the most committed, and the most successful as teachers of Dhrupad to students outside their own family. As teachers, they have produced more successful concert performers over the last 20 years than any other teacher of Dhrupad.

Their commitment and excellence as teachers of the basics of Hindustani music -- the science of intonation, voice culture, the achievement of tonal precision, handling of the raga form, the achievement of its emotional impact, and disciplined creativity -- has been outstanding.

Today, these are claimed as special features of Dhrupad perhaps because thorough taleem in these aspects is no longer available to Khayal singers. But, they are fundamental to Hindustani vocal music, and it is important that these disciplines are being preserved at least in the Dhrupad gharanas.

When we call something "Shastriya Sangeet" -- whether Dhrupad, or Khayal, -- it has to be, by its very definition, music which has a "Shastra", a sound theoretical foundation. And the performing art has to retain an intimate relationship with a tradition of scholarship.

We might surmise that Dhrupad, which is today considered to have a superior grounding in "Shastra", probably declined when it drifted away from its moorings in the "Shastra". By the same logic, we might say that those Dhrupad traditions which have survived, and are growing in acceptance, are those that have retained their fundamental soundness.

In addition to the soundness of the basics, the Dagar style has remained popular because it concentrated on the melodic facets of Dhrupad's esthetic appeal. In doing so, it subordinated the role of percussion to the melodic facet of music.The overly masculine or aggressive musical expression does not find place in the Dagar style. They have preserved a strong bias in favour of the elaborate alap of the Dhrupad tradition, and meticulously observed the relationship between the poetic and melodic forms.

The same esthetic perspective dominates the choice of compositions in the Dagar tradition. Although we sing compositions in a variety of Talas -- Chautal, Dhamar, Sul, Tivra, Matta Tal, and Jhaptal -- we do not sing any compositions without a poetic element. Compositions with meaningless consonants -- prevalent in other Dhrupad traditions -- are not performed in the Dagar style. The Dagars have taken the view that there is enough melodic development with meaningless consonants in the Nom-Tom alap, and extending it into rendition of compositions of the Tarana variety is unnecessary.

Beyond these general features of the Dagar style, our Ustads have sought to build a closer relationship between Dhrupad music as sung, and as performed on the Rudra Veena. Although vocal music and the Rudra Veena have always been companions in the Dhrupad tradition, the "Been Ang" (lit:the style of performing on plucked instruments, specifically of the fretted lute family) influences our own singing much more than has traditionally been the case. This appears to have a special appeal for contemporary audiences nurtured in an age dominated by the Sitar, Sarod, and the Santoor.

Against this background of the gharana and our taleem with our Ustads, we ourselves have tried to introduce elements which make for wider acceptability of our music.

The main effort we have made is in the field of the poetic element. We realized that in the Khayal-dominated era, the poetic element is faded into relative insignificance, both in terms of the musicians' presentation of it, and the audiences' receptivity to it. Dhrupad has to treat poetry with respect. Therefore, it must make an effort to adopt a more modern literary idiom.

We have selected some medieval and even modern poetry, and cast it into the melodic framework of traditional Dhrupad compositions. And, this has received a very encouraging response from audiences. We also felt the need to create compositions in currently popular ragas, such as Charukeshi (a Carnatic raga, introduced to Hindustani music less than 50 years ago). We selected poetry for such compositions, cast them into melodic-rhythmic frameworks, obtained the approval of our Ustads on the soundness of the compositions, and have started performing them. This, too, has been very well received by audiences.

In our presentation, we tend to avoid the “ladant-bhidant” relationship between the vocal music and the percussion accompaniment. Our melodic development receives a "theka" support just as in Khayal presentation, although we certainly have a much more lively interaction with percussion in the rhythmic play than Khayal. We also provide our percussion accompanists ample spaces for Pakhawaj solo passages, just as Sitar and Sarod players do.

This is not merely a concession to the expectations of audiences nurtured by post-Dhrupad musical genres. It is also critical to preserving the melody-dominant character of the Dagar gharana's music without denying the rhythmic element and percussion its due share of importance.

In India, we find that almost 70% of our audiences are hearing Dhrupad for the first time. Most of them are below the age of 40. Thanks to the media coverage of Dhrupad, and of our own careers, the younger audiences appear to have a strong curiosity about Dhrupad. They see it as being perhaps more authentically Indian than Khayal or Thumree music merely by virtue of being older. But, what is important is that they are liking what they hear. One of the reasons might well be that Dhrupad is more accessible to uninitiated audiences than Khayal because of the separation of the melodic from the rhythmic. This separation frees them from the simultaneous need to keep track of melodic and rhythmic manipulation.

But, the more important aspect of audience acceptance is that it is the alaps that are more widely appreciated. The taste for the elaborate alap might have been created by the great instrumentalists of our times, who have retained the three-tiered Dhrupad style alap in their music and popularized it. Because the Dhrupad alap has become familiar through instrumental music, and probably Khayal is losing its contemplative, soulful movements, audiences could be appreciating this facet of Dhrupad even more.

A broadly similar picture emerges amongst audiences in the US and Europe. Relative to the size of Khayal-oriented audiences, the Dhrupad-oriented audiences are larger in the West than in India. The mystique of an "ancient" art form, of course, has a greater appeal for Western audiences. But, they too value the Dhrupad alap more than the compositions, and for the same reasons as Indian audiences.

With a resurgent market in India and in the West, naturally the drift of promising talent towards Dhrupad is now snowballing. The Dhrupad Kendra at Bhopal is now attracting exceptional talent in good numbers. We, the Gundecha Brothers, are ourselves planning to set up a residential Gurukul-type Dhrupad institute shortly, and plan to select at least 10 students for prolonged intensive training. Looking at the overall trends, we feel confident that in the next couple of decades, there will be at least three times as many competent Dhrupad singers on the mainstream platform as there are today.

The situation regarding Pakhawaj is also improving fast. The growing popularity of Dhrupad has created a shortage of competent Pakhawaj players. The few competent Gurus we have today are experiencing an ample demand for their training. Hopefully, the next generation of Dhrupad vocalists will not have to face the same shortage of percussion accompanists as we have had to live with.

Unfortunately, unlike the Tabla, the market for Pakhawaj solos has not yet developed well enough to make Pakhawaj more attractive as career. To give a boost to this art form, we sometimes encourage our Pakhawaj accompanists to present short solo items at the end of our concerts. But, considering that even Tabla solos have a shrinking market, a Pakhawaj solo market may be a long way off.

Dhrupad is now being re-integrated into the mainstream. The issues of making a decent living that should have troubled us when we opted for Dhrupad, need not bother the most promising Dhrupadiyas of the next generation.

The current trends in Dhrupad presentation and audience acceptance will, we feel, persist and mature over the next few decades. The Dagar style will continue to grow in popularity.

As an interesting, but related, phenomenon, the Agra gharana of Khayal music, which retains the strongest link with its Dhrupad ancestry, could ride back to popularity on the strength of its Dhrupad flavor.

Yes, just as we have made a few minor innovations in Dhrupad presentation, there may be some more to come. But, Dhrupad cannot change very much without losing its identity. And, judging from the emotional and esthetic needs of audiences, it does not seem that they want it to change too much, either.

Reproduced, with the publisher’s consent, from “Perspectives on Dhrupad”, edited by Deepak Raja, and Suvarnalata Rao, published by the Indian Musicological Society, Baroda/ Bombay. 1999

Raga Gorakh Kalyan – emerging as a Bageshri variant

This essay is now published in my fourth book:

Removing it from here was considered proper, though not contractually obligatory, in order to protect my publisher's investment in my book.

DR

Khayal Vocalism: Continuity within Change

Khayal Vocalism: Continuity within Change

Author: Deepak Raja

Foreword: Pandit Ulhas Kashalkar

Introduction: Lyle Wachovsky

Publisher: DK Printworld, New Delhi

Paperback: Rs. 460.00. Hard-cover: Rs. 760.00

Preview

“Deepak Raja’s work is surely the most important contribution to literature on khayal vocal styles to come out in recent times. His minute and colorful analysis is astounding testimony to decades of deep aesthetic and intellectual engagement. His parsing of the formidable variables of Khayal style here is a real gift to those of us who have puzzled over the elusive qualities of this beautiful music. His essays on selected musicians are both enlightening and entertaining. I recommend this book to anyone who listens thoughtfully to India's classical music.”

Prof. Allyn Miner
Department of South Asian Studies
University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphi, USA

Deepak Raja has adopted a unique kind of systematic analytical approach to the study of Hindustani music, which yields original and intriguing insights. Students and lovers of Indian music will find much that is compelling and thought-provoking in this book.

Prof. Peter Manuel
Professor of Music, John Jay College, New York,USA

“This book is a pioneering effort in the study of Hindustani Music. I know of no previous work that pays as much attention to detailed analysis of the individual stylistic characteristics of the great vocalists of the past. Moreover, the analysis is firmly grounded in an extensive study of a large array of recordings. This feature by itself is a huge departure from the established norms in past writing on this subject, in which the treatment has been with a broad brush, thereby often leading to generalities that are not objectively sustainable. Here an attempt is made to impose some rigor in this process, by relying on material that is available for detailed analysis – such as recordings, interviews and so on.

“Here, Deepak Raja applies to stylistic analysis a metaphor he previously originated, applying ideas from the plastic arts to the study of khayal styles. This metaphor involves looking at the total phenomenon of creativity in khayal styles as a meld of three facets: an architectural facet, a sculptural facet, and an ornamental facet. This point of view is original, stimulating and effective, and provides a conceptual and analytical framework for understanding Khayal stylistics. The reader will find much here that is of interest historically as well as musically. This book should be required reading for every serious student of music whose vision goes beyond performance alone. We are in Deepak Raja's debt for an outstanding book.”

Prof. Ramesh Gangolli.
University of Washington, Seattle, USA

“Basing the findings and conclusions on pointed instances from audio-recordings, using physical parameters for analysis and yet treating the art as an organic form, keeping the discussion restricted to the musician's music alone, the felicity in the use of language – impart objectivity, dignity and intimacy to Deepak Raja's writings on music. His deep knowledge of the music of the stalwarts and his eagerness to recognise and understand the music of the most recently risen artist have carried this book ahead of and beyond the earlier writings on the Khayala music.”

Prof. N Ramanathan
Professor of Music (Retd.), University of Madras
Currently, Adjunct Professor of Music, Chennai Mathematical Institute.

Deepak Raja has achieved a unique synthesis of articulate musical description and thoughtful cultural background. He supports and respects the traditions of Hindustani classical music; but manages to achieve the personal distance necessary to avoid the emotional and analytic excesses of many volumes in this field. “Khayal Vocalism” offers scholars an important alternative perspective on Indian musical priorities and thinking; it is essential for the interested listener (Indian or foreigner) who wishes to reach a better understanding of the most important vocal form in the classical music of 20th Century India.

Prof. Gregory Booth, Department of Ethnomusicology,
University of Auckland, New Zealand

“I am not an authority on Indian Classical music to ably judge the scholastic quality of “Khayal Vocalism”. But I know Deepak Raja and the dedication with which he works on a chosen project. Going through “Khayal Vocalism” I was highly impressed by Shri.Raja’s expertise and deep passion for the subject. I am confident that readers will find his analysis of great value”.

Mrs. Vijaya Mehta
Executive Director, National Centre for the Performing Arts, Mumbai

“Scholarly and meticulously researched, this is an extremely valuable book on Indian classical music.”

Namita Devidayal
Author of “The Music Room” (Random House, 2008)

"Like all Deepak Raja's writings on Hindustani music, including his earlier work, "Hindustani Music--a Tradition in Transition", the present work too impresses with the knowledge, information, candour, analytical acuity and felicity of expression that he has brought to it. Art music is rarely written about in such a clear, readable manner."

Shanta Gokhale
Culture columnist and theatre personality

“Assimilate like a student, analyse like a master, express like an artist. This has been the hallmark of scholar-musician Deepak Raja’s approach, making this wonderful book a seeker’s destination and a reader’s odyssey”

Ashok Roy
Author of “Music Makers” (Rupa, 2004)

To me Deepak Raja or Deepakbhai as I call him, is a senior disciple, a talented musician, a respected journalist, a critical analyst of Indian music and a close family friend.

As an author, his first book “Hindustani Music: a tradition in transition”, written in lucid and scholarly language, is much in demand. His second book -- “Khayal Vocalism: continuity within change” -- projects profound analysis of the vocal form of Khayal. His conclusions which maintains “Continuity within Change” is indeed thought provoking. I am sure it will be extremely useful to academically interested musicians as well as aspiring students.

Pandit Arvind Parikh
Eminent sitarist, and
President, Indian Musicological Society

I have known Deepak Bhai for a long time. I have seen his association with my Ustaad and father, Ustad Vilayat Khan and we have spent some wonderful times discussing music. His thoughts on our music and tradition I have always found to be very refreshing and I feel that he expresses them with a great amount of clarity. I always look forward to our meetings and our long chats.

Ustad Shujaat Khan, Sitarist

“As in his earlier book, -Hindustani Music – A tradition in transition”, Deepak Raja continues to provide a fresher and analytic evaluation of the changing profile of the khayal style in this book, covering all the major khayal gharanas of Hindustani music. Continuity and change is profoundly explained by the author. Scholar, performer and connoisseur –all will benefit from the reading of this valuable book.”

Prof. RC Mehta
Prof. of Music (Retd), M.S. Univ. of Baroda,
Founder – Editor, Journal of the Indian Musicological Society.

"Deepak Raja's book on Khayal vocalism is a remarkable output of research done over the years. He is one of the most outstanding musicologists I have ever come across, not only because of the depth of his scholarship in the field, but also because of his ability to think like a very sensitive performer. I am definite there will be wide appreciation of this masterly work"

Prof. Sugata Marjit
North Indian Classical Vocalist and
Director, Centre For Studies in Social Sciences, Kolkatta

“During my work in the Musicology department of the National College of Arts, Lahore and in the Sanjan Nagar Institute I have found Deepak Raja’s commitment to our classical music and his painstaking scholarship to be a very valuable asset. We have benefited greatly from his past writings and looking at his latest work I find it an even more valuable link in our fund of serious writings. We extend our gratitude and look forward to a further continuation of his important work in the realm of Indian Classical Music.”

Raza Kazim
Director, Sanjan Nagar Institute of Musicology,
Lahore, Pakistan

“Deepak Raja’s contributions to Sruti magazine have been weighty in substance but also very readable, addressed to the serious music lover, not the scholar. He is an editor’s delight; his copy needs no editing, and he has perfect understanding of the ideal length for the extremely readable profiles of khayal musicians, which we serialised in Sruti, and appear in this book. Here’s a role model for all aspiring writers on the arts—analytical and completely focused on the art and the process, not anecdotal like much writing we see in this genre.”

V Ramnarayan
Editor, SRUTI Magazine, Chennai

Raga Ahiri: Neither Ahiri Todi, nor Ahir Bhairav – just Ahiri

Until a few years ago, I had not heard Raga Ahiri. The opportunity of studying it came my way when I had to write a commentary on the sarodist, Tejendra Majumdar’s recording of this raga for India Archive Music Ltd., New York.

Tejendra claims to have learnt this raga from his Guru, Ustad Bahadur Khan, as Ahiri, and not Ahiri Todi. In addition, he studied, from a private collection, an unpublished recording of the raga rendered by Nikhil Bannerjee. Tejendra vouches that the raga form, as taught to him by his Guru matches that of Nikhil Bannerjee. On this evidence, I am inclined to believe that Ahiri is a rare raga, which has been a part of the repertoire of the Maihar-Seniya repertoire.

The word "Ahir" refers to a community of cowherds in northern and western India. This suggests the origin of this raga in a tribal or folk melody, which entered the raga system by shaping variants of mature, major ragas. This possibility is suggested by the popularity of its compounds (e.g. Ahir Bhairav, Ahiri Todi, Ahir Lalit) and the rarity of the pure Ahiri.

Such situations are encountered when the pure form of a raga is either too similar to established ragas to sustain its independent raga-ness, or too limited in melodic potential to permit a sufficiently satisfying presentation. Isolating the pure form of ragas like Ahiri from their compounds -- conceptually as well as in practice -- is therefore a challenging task. Consequently, we encounter a variety of interpretations of such ragas in rendition, along with a scarcity of documentation, and lack of consistency in nomenclature and grammar.

In such situations, a residual derivation is occasionally possible with one of two approaches:
1. Ahiri = (Ahir Bhairav - Bhairav) or (Ahiri Todi - Todi)
2. Ahiri = {(Ahir Bhairav + Ahiri Todi) - Bhairav - Todi}

Considering that Ahiri appears, over the years, to have so totally submerged its identity into its compounds, neither of these derivations is particularly helpful. Tejendra Majumdar's Ahiri, therefore, requires us to accept it on its own terms, to be interpreted in relation to the most familiar reference points available.

Swara-samudaya (tone material):
Ahiri (Tejendra's interpretation): S r g M P D n

This interpretation combines the Bhairavi scale of Hindustani music in the purvanga (lower tetrachord), with the Kafi scale in the uttaranga (upper tetrachord). Apparent dominants: Komal Re and shuddha Ma. Their relative weightage is not possible to determine.

Subba Rao's documentation: (Subba Rao V. Raga Nidhi, Vol.I and IV. Fourth Impression, 1996, Music Academy, Madras)

Ahiri: S r G M P D n (Dominants: Primary: Sa. Secondary:Pa)
Ahir Bhairav: S r G M P D n (Dominants: Primary: Ma. Secondary:Sa)
Ahiri Todi: S r g M P d n N (Dominants: Primary: dh. Secondary:ga)
Ahir- Lalit: S r G M M^ D n (Dominants: Primary: Ma. Secondary:Sa)

On the dimensions of swara-samudaya and dominant swaras, Majumdar's Ahiri does not correspond to any of these raga parameters. It does, however, correspond to the swara-samudaya of Ahiri Todi, as documented by Manikbuwa Thakurdas, a scholar-musician of the Gwalior Gharana (Raga Darshan: Vol. III, First edition. Shri Lakshminarayan Trust, Rajpipla). The Thakurdas description of Ahiri Todi also approximates Tejendra's rendition in terms of aural images. According to Thakurdas, the purvanga of Ahiri Todi suggests raga Bilaskhani Todi, while the uttaranga corresponds to raga Ahiri.

Beyond this, the Thakurdas commentary becomes unserviceable. It states that Ahiri Todi and Ahir Bhairav are the same raga, and a documentation of the pure Ahiri is not available, though the raga finds mention in respected musicological texts. Moreover, Thakurdas considers Pa and Sa as the primary and secondary dominants, respectively, of Ahiri Todi. This conflicts with Subbarao's parameters for Ahiri, Ahir Bhairav and Ahiri Todi, as also with Tejendra's rendition of Ahiri.

These references, considered along with Tejendra's rendition, suggest two melodic tendencies of the pure Ahiri. With identical swara-samudaya for Ahiri and Ahir Bhairav, and using the shuddha (natural) Ga, Subba Rao apparently considers the pure Ahiri close to Bhairav. Tejendra's interpretation, on the other hand, uses the komal (flat) Ga, and suggests a proximity to the Todi group of ragas. Available evidence is insufficient to ascertain whether Ahiri and Ahiri Todi might have, at some stage or in some gharanas, been different names for the same raga.

Tejendra's own contribution to the interpretation of this raga seems considerable. The melodic personality of the raga has an impressionistic modernity which is inconceivable as having derived from either Ustad Bahadur Khan or Pt. Nikhil Bannerjee. This modernity is reflected mainly in the use of kaleidoscopic tonal patterns, which are compatible with the tone material of the raga, but lack well-defined melodic contours. This is, essentially, a post-Ali Akbar feature in sarod music, and assists greatly in projecting a persuasive holograph of a rare raga, whose distinctive melodic identity is difficult to sustain.

In simplistic terms, Tejendra's Ahiri is vaguely suggestive of Bilaskhani Todi/ Bhairavi in the purvanga and Bageshri in the uttaranga. The Bageshri flavor is also found in the uttaranga of Ahir Bhairav, and may therefore be assumed to belong to Ahiri. As performed by Tejendra, Ahiri exhibits a family resemblance with Ahir Bhairav and Ahiri Todi. Because of the raga's purvanga-dominant character, the Todi bias might prevail.

Chalan (Skeletal phraseology)
n.D.r/D.n.S /D.n.g r /r g M g r /S r g M /r g P M /g r g P /r g M D /D P D n D /M D S' (or) M P D n S' (or) M D n S' /D n r' S' /n D P D n D /n D M g r /P M g r /r n. D. S

In the phraseology, the dominant melodic foci are komal (flat) Re, shuddha (natural) Ma and shuddha (natural) Dh. In the alap. Tejendra appears to treat the komal Re as the pivotal swara. The two compositions he performs have their primary emphasis on the shuddha Ma, defining this swara as the second dominant. The importance of Ma probably belongs to the original Ahiri, considering that it is inconsistent with the character of Bhairav but is frequently encountered in renditions of Ahir Bhairav by scholarly musicians. This emphasis on Ma is important also because it weakens the adjacent komal Ga and komal Re, both pregnant with a bias towards the Todi group. In the ambient acoustic, Tejendra emphasizes Ma and Dh swaras, thus reinforcing the Bageshri chord, presumably supportive of the aural image of Ahiri.

Ahiri is prescribed for mid-morning performance. Consistent with its Todi/Bhairav affinity and purvanga bias, the dominant mood of this raga is somber. Despite the mildly euphoric potential of the shuddha (natural) Ma as a melodic focus, Tejendra's interpretation appears to veer towards pathos.

Tejendra's Ahiri is a complex raga to handle. Establishing Ahiri as distinct from the familiar Ahir Bhairav and Ahiri Todi, while retaining a family resemblance to them, is a task demanding formidable musicianship.

(c) India Archive Music Ltd., New York. Tejendra Majumdar's recording of Raga Ahiri is available from India Archive Music.

Purva and Puriya Kalyan: What’s the difference?

Purva (also called Purvya) belongs to a cluster of ragas bearing a family resemblance to raga Puriya in terms of swara material, and phraseology, melodic center of gravity, and therefore aural impression.

Swara material
Puriya: S r G M^ D N
Puriya-Dhanashree: S r G M^ P d N
Poorvi: S r G M M^ P d N
Puriya-Kalyan/Purva: S r G M^ P D N

What is common to all of them is komal (flat) Re, shuddha (natural) G, tivra (sharp) Ma, and shuddha (natural) Ni.

At the commencement of a concert at Los Angeles CA in 1991, Ustad Vilayat Khan introduced Purva with its ascent and descent.
Ascent: N r G M^ D N r' G'
Descent: r' S' N D P M^ G M^ r G\ N. r S

In a tape-recorded interview after the concert, the Ustad says that Purva is the same as the raga commonly known as Puriya Kalyan. He also argues that Purva is the right name for this raga and Puriya Kalyan is misleading because there is no trace of the characteristic Kalyan element in Puriya Kalyan. Although he does not identify the "characteristic Kalyan element", he probably considers the shuddha (natural) Re swara as essential for the Kalyan classification. If this is his argument, it has some validity.

Kalyan is a family of post-sunset ragas, which should use the shuddha (natural) Re swara. The komal (flat) Re of the Puriya cluster defines Purva as a "sandhi-prakash" (twilight zone, in this case, sunset-hour) raga. By this logic, Puriya Kalyan cannot be classified with the Kalyan family.

With these observations, Ustad Vilayat Khan has raised the issue: Are Purva and Puriya Kalyan two different ragas, or two names for the same raga?

Musicologist VN Bhatkhande looked at this issue in the 1940's, when Purva was a mature raga, and Puriya Kalyan had just begun to gain acceptance. Based on textual evidence, but very limited exposure to performances of Puriya Kalyan, Bhatkhande concluded that they are, indeed, different ragas. (Bhatkhande Sangeet Shastra. Vol.III, Ed.LN Garg, Sangeet Karyalaya Hathras, third edition, 1984. Pgs. 251-254)

Genealogically, Bhatkhande connects Puriya Kalyan to raga Purva Kalyan of the Gamanashram parent scale in the Carnatic (South Indian) tradition, which has identical swara material, and near-identical scale. Purva, on the other hand, he attributes to a combination of Poorvi, Maru and Gaura.(Ibid)

During the review of this recording, Ustad Vilayat Khan described Purva as Puriya with a Pa added to it,or Puriya Dhanashree with a shuddha (natural) Dh swara replacing the komal (flat) Dh. Therefore, it appears that the Ustad saw Purva clearly as a member of the Puriya cluster. However, it is also possible to interpret the same scale as Yaman with a komal (flat) Re replacing the shuddha (natural) Re. And, this may very well explain why the Carnatic nomenclature of this scale associates the raga with Kalyan (Yaman).

Thus, Ustad Vilayat Khan plays Puriya with a Pa and calls it Purva. And, Puriya Kalyan specialists perform a raga to the same scale, probably conceived as Yaman with a komal (flat) Re. What is the difference ?

To explore this issue, we can compare Vilayat Khan's Purva with the Puriya Kalyan of its most popular exponent, Pt. Bhimsen Joshi (Music Today: A:97009).

The most obvious conclusion is that neither Purva of Vilayat Khan, nor Puriya Kalyan of Bhimsen Joshi can escape the aural images of either Puriya or Yaman. Both the maestros also use the suppressed micro-swara of the komal (flat) Re characteristic of Puriya. A detailed examination of their respective phraseologies also fails to identify any distinctive phrase that one of them uses, and the other does not.

However, the aural experience they create is distinctive. Purva does, indeed, come through as closer to Puriya, and Puriya Kalyan does emerge as being inspired more by Yaman. The secret probably lies in the probabilistic technique of raga differentiation.

If you play Yaman with a komal (flat) Re, the ascent becomes pure Puriya anyway, while the descent remains Yaman until it reaches Ga, and returns to Puriya below it. Thus, if more phrases are ascending, and fewer are descending, Puriya dominates the aural experience. And, vice versa.

The second aspect of this same probabilistic technique is how much melodic development is done in the mid-octave region, where the Yaman flavor is dominant. If you de-emphasize the melodic development in the mid-octave region, Puriya can dominate the aural experience. And, vice versa.

The third facet of this technique is the use of multiple phraseologies. If you use the Puriya descent in the upper tetrachord (N-D-M^) in addition to the Yaman descent (N-D-P), and do so often enough, Puriya dominates. By the same logic, if you use the Yaman-type ascent in the lower tetrachord (N-r-G-M^-P) in addition to the Puriya ascent (N-r-G or N-r-M^-G), and do so often enough, the Yaman flavor dominates.

Allied to this approach is the inclusion/ exclusion technique of raga differentiation. If the Yaman flavor surfaces in the mid-octave region, it is possible to highlight the Yaman angle, or balance the two, by including the mid-octave region in a majority of phrases. This means using a phraseology, on an average, of broader melodic spans. Conversely,the Puriya facet is more easily isolated, by using phrases, on an average, of shorter melodic spans so that the mid-octave region can be excluded, when desired.

The probabilistic technique of raga differentiation is the most subtle and advanced of all melodic disciplines. On the basis of permissible phraseologies, the two ragas are identical. The only technique for differentiating them is through differential weightages given to different segments of the octave.

It is difficult for two ragas of such subtle differentiation to co-exist with anything like comparable circulation or popularity. It is a different matter – though not entirely irrelevant – that even audiences of considerable cultivation would find the differences imperceptible. Consequently, it appears that Puriya Kalyan, with the commonly understood Yaman as its reference point, has remained in circulation. And, Purva, with the more profound Puriya reference point, is now rarely heard.

This point of view is at variance with contemporary scholars and learned musicians, including Ustad Vilayat Khan, who regard Purva as the original name for the present-day Puriya Kalyan. The debate can continue.

© India Archive Music Ltd. New York. An outstanding recording of Raga Purva by Ustad Vilayat Khan (1991) is available from India Archive Music Ltd.

Raga Shuddha Kalyan: How and why it is changing

Shuddha Kalyan is a popular, though difficult, raga of the Kalyan parent scale. The raga is pentatonic in the ascent and heptatonic in the descent.

Ascent: SRGPDS'
Descent: S'NDPM^GRS

The ascent is identical to Bhoop/Bhupali, while the descent is identical to Yaman/Kalyan. This is why the raga is also occasionally referred to as Bhoop Kalyan. But, there is more confusion surrounding the raga’s nomenclature because some gharana-s refer to Bhoop/Bhupali (pentatonic) as Bhoop Kalyan. And, some refer to Shuddha Kalyan (heptatonic in the descent) as Shuddha Bhoopal. Although varying nomenclatures are a good indication of the two-faced character of the raga, we can stick to Shuddha Kalyan as the most widely used name, with a good chance of identifying the melodic entity beyond reasonable doubt.

According to Manikbuwa Thakurdas (Raga Darshan), this raga can be performed in either of its two distinct variants -- a Bhoop-biased treatment, and a Kalyan-biased treatment. In a Bhoop-biased treatment, the use of the Ni/Ma swaras in the descent should be subtle enough to be "apratyaksha" (subliminal/ implicit/ imperceptible). This is normally achieved by using the two swaras only in a meend (glissando) as grace swaras in the transition from Sa to (Ni) Dh and Pa to (Ma) Ga. When presented in the Kalyan-biased treatment, the Ni/Ma swaras can be "pratyaksha" (explicit) or "apratyaksha" (implicit), and therefore not limited to being treated as grace swaras.

Subba Rao (Raga Nidhi, Vol.IV) points out a third interpretation of the raga which omits the Ma/Ni swaras altogether. In such a treatment, distinguishing the resulting music from Bhoop/Bhupali requires great skill. This version was heard occasionally until the 1960s, and is virtually extinct now.

According to Kalyan Mukherjea (his e-mail of June 25,1999), an eminent disciple of Pandit Radhika Mohan Maitra, his Guru resolved this multiplicity of views as only great creative minds can -- by a poetic description. According to him, Ni/Ma are "astamita", like rays of the setting sun, which has already sunken below the horizon. This description permits the subliminal as well as the explicit use of the Ni/Ma swaras in the descent, as long as they claim no more than a subtle presence in the totality of the aural experience.

The raga permits phrases to culminate only on Sa, Re, Ga, and Pa. None of the other swaras are permitted the status of “nyasa swaras” [resting points] for phrasing. The primary melodic region of this raga is the region between the lower-octave Pa and the middle-octave Pa. This also happens to be the primary melodic region of Bhoop/Bhupali. Hence the exposure of Shuddha Kalyan to the risk of confusion with Bhoop.

Shuddha Kalyan avoids the confusion with Bhoop/Bhupali by its phrases P.D.P.S and S N. R, which rule out Bhoop/ Bhupali categorically. In addition, Shuddha Kalyan utilizes the Re swara as one of special emphasis, as against the Ga-dominance of Bhoop/Bhupali. Shuddha Kalyan prefers to use the Ga swara as a transitional swara in its journey towards Pa in a loop phrase RGPM^G as distinct from the direct DSRG or RPG characteristic of Bhoop/Bhupali.

The various views on Shuddha Kalyan appear to converge on one point – that, despite its heptatonic descent, the aural experience of the raga is intended to be near-pentatonic. On the basis of modern and contemporary practice, the raga appears to be anchored in the lower half of the melodic canvas, with a notional scale from the lower-Pa to the middle-Pa. Some musicians have chosen to locate the raga’s epicentre in the uttaranga [upper tetrachord] of the lower octave, while others have opted for the poorvanga [lower tetrachord] of the middle octave. Because the raga’s tonal/ melodic differentiation from Bhoop/ Bhupali and Deshkar is most explicit in the descent, the raga may be considered avaroha-pradhan [descent dominant]. This is the raga’s esthetic grammar, which refines its melodic grammar, and drives it towards literature.

A survey of available recordings of this raga reveals some interesting patterns. To begin with, Suddha Kalyan appears to have been performed only by musicians of considerable stature. Even these musicians appear to have performed the raga primarily at concerts, and rarely on commercial recordings. These facts suggest that the raga is regarded as a considerable aesthetic challenge, and those who do perform it do so after they have ascertained the receptivity potential of their audiences to the raga’s melodic subtleties. These subtleties of raga grammar might explain why vocalists have remained far more faithful to the near-pentatonic aural experience of the raga than instrumentalists performing on the plucked lutes – sitar and sarod.

But, there appears also to be a generational angle to the diversity in the handling of the raga’s near-pentatonic character, especially with respect to sitar and sarod renditions. Evidence of recordings by three generations of sitar/sarod players suggests that the ergonomic and acoustic aspects of music making have encouraged a steady drift towards a bolder expression of the raga’s heptatonic character and, by implication, a dilution of the near-pentatonic aural experience.

This tendency could partially also reflect the growing audience-friendliness amongst the younger Hindustani musicians. They are a part of the new “in-your-face” culture, which makes them abandon the subtleties and nuances of ragas in favour of the more explicit expression, which also happens to be less demanding in melodic execution.

By way of support for these observations, I rely on recordings of the raga by Ustad Ameer Khan [Vocal: HMV:STC:851005], Roshanara Beghum [Vocal: HMV:STC: 04B: 7702], Ashwini Bhide-Deshpande [Vocal: Music Today:A-92060], Shrafat Hussain Khan [Vocal: Concert: Unpublished] Ustad Vilayat Khan [Sitar: Concert at National Centre for Performing Arts, Bombay, February 8, 1998. Unpublished], Kalyan Mukherjea [Sarod: India Archive Music, NY], and a recording by Shujaat Khan [India Archive Music, NY].

The issue of maintaining the near-pentatonic aural experience of a raga with a heptatonic scale revolves primarily around the subliminal use of [tivra] Ma in the descent from Pa to Ga, and the equally imperceptible use of [shuddha] Ni in the descent from Sa to Dh. Since the ergonomic and generational issues stand out in bolder relief in the instrumental renditions, a detailed look at the sitar/ sarod recordings is revealing.

Ustad Vilayat Khan [born: 1928], the seniormost of the instrumentalists surveyed, remains remarkably close to the near-pentatonic experience of the raga throughout the concert. In the low-density melodic movements, he hardly ever executes the Ma/Ni swaras on the frets, always using the meend [string deflection] technique to approximate the vocalist’s subtlety. In the high-density movements, the Ustad sparingly uses the Ni fret supported with a plectrum stroke, but almost never the Ma fret. The dilution of the raga’s near-pentatonic character in Vilayat Khan’s Shuddha Kalyan, if any, [Example: S’NDPGRS] does not go beyond a near-hexatonic experience.

Sarodist Kalyan Mukherjea [born:1943] is more explicit in the use of the Ma/ Ni swaras, including supporting them with plectrum strokes. His interpretation of the raga permits medium density passages such as SN/ ND/ DP/ PM^ /M^G with gamak execution, which allow the Ma/Ni swaras as much weightage as other swaras. Despite its explicitness, this usage remains broadly “apratyaksha” [subtle/ imperceptible] because swaras taken in pairs do not constitute a phrase, and stop short of defining an explicit melodic contour.

Therefore, while Mukherjea treats the raga as being pentatonic in the ascent, and heptatonic in the descent, the experience of the Ma/ Ni swaras remains– as described by his Guru -- akin to the rays of the setting sun, after it has dipped below the horizon. Because the fretless sarod is a more hospitable instrument with respect to the Ma/Ni subtlety than the sitar, the liberality of Mukherjea’s treatment -- relative to Ustad Vilayat Khan’s -- may, therefore, have an element of generational preference.

The generational issue acquires some merit because, Shujaat Khan [Born: 1960] goes beyond Mukherjea in permitting the Ma/Ni swaras a presence in the raga. Shujaat’s deployment of these swaras is perhaps more prominent than even the “pratyaksha” treatment envisaged by Thakurdas [Ibid]. Shujat freely deploys phrases such as RGM^GR and PDNDP which can be interpreted as using Ma and Ni in the ascent as well as descent. Shujaat also feels free to construct descending alankar tans which define melodic contours with Ma and Ni as nyasa swaras [Example: GGRS/ RRSN/ SSND/ NNDP/ DDPM^/ PPM^G/ M^M^GR/ GGRS].

He therefore appears to treat the Ma/Ni swaras as permissible for sparing deployment, but not necessarily only in the descent, and not merely as incidentals to phrasing. Contextually, however, Shujaat’s usage hardly creates dissonance except for the abnormally critical ear. Despite the magnitude of his deviations, the aural experience of his Shuddha Kalyan remains within the recognisable boundaries of the raga.

This discussion could invite the argument that sitarists and sarod players should refrain from performing ragas like Shuddha Kalyan, whose subtleties their instruments cannot handle. But, this is an irrelevant line of reasoning in Hindustani music tradition, built on the assumptions of continuity within change. It accepts that ragas can, and do, alter their melodic grammar over time, even in the vocal expression. The motivation for these alterations is either greater ease of melodic execution or responding to changing aesthetic values.

Instrumentalists alter the raga form with the same motivation. Their alterations are merely more obvious than those of vocalists because of the perceptible mechanics of sound activation and melodic execution. And, to the extent that instruments increasingly dominate society’s experience of Hindustani music, their melodic-acoustic features reflect contemporary aesthetic values, while also altering our melodic experience of ragas and, indeed, our notions of raga-ness.

This perspective is easier to appreciate by visualising Shuddha Kalyan being attempted on the santoor, the Indian dulcimer, a staccato instrument. Even in the hands of the greatest santoor maestro, the instrument would be severely limited in its ability to deliver the micro-tonal subtleties of Shuddha Kalyan as hitherto prescribed. Unlike western classical music, which composes music uniquely for individual instruments, the Hindustani tradition accepts Shuddha Kalyan on the santoor with all its limitations, and will judge the results by the same fundamental yardstick – whether the melodic experience remains within the recognisable boundaries of the raga, as currently understood.

The operative phrase in this proposition is “the raga as currently understood”. Audiences acquire their notions of raga-ness from the mix of aural experiences to which they are exposed.

As long as the subtle and the not-so-subtle interpretations of Shuddha Kalyan are both in circulation, listeners hearing the less subtle versions will tend to mentally “fill in” the subtleties which they were supposed to hear, but do not actually hear in the music being performed. This great ability of the human aural mechanism constitutes some protection against the dilution of an exquisitely subtle melodic entity.

But, the music-scape of society is dynamic in nature. If the santoor should ever dominate our society’s musical experience, the ergonomic and acoustic uniqueness of the instrument will reshape the experience of Shuddha Kalyan, along with every other “raga as currently understood”.

If such an event comes to pass, nobody needs lose sleep over it because it will not happen either for the first time, or the last. The Hindustani tradition is robust enough to accommodate different notions of a “raga as currently understood” for vocal music, and for as many categories of instruments as are in vogue.

Deepak S. Raja
© India Archive Music Ltd. New York
The finest recordings of raga Shuddha Kalyan have been produced by India Archive Music Ltd.

Nancy Lesh (Kulkarni): “Dhrupad is the music for me. India is the place for me.”

The US-born Dhrupad Cellist, Nancy Kulkarni writes about her journey in Hindustani Music

My journey in Indian music started completely by chance. When I first came to India In I982, I had been playing Western cello for 13 years, had played in several symphony orchestras, including Principal Cellist of the Rome Festival Orchestra, and was currently Section Cellist with the Orchestra del Maggio Musicale of Florence, Italy. I was blissfully playing Bach, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, and all the greats of Western classical music.

Every summer was a three-month holiday from the orchestra, and that year I saw a special for a $500 round-trip ticket to Bombay. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to vacation in such an exotic land. However, I knew nothing of India and its music, and knew nobody who lived there. Nevertheless, I sewed a backpack for my cello with the intention of backpacking throughout India, and returning to the orchestra in the fall.

When I stepped off the plane in Bombay that June morning, I was immediately struck by the fragrance of burning campfires, mixed with cooking spices. That particular smell was very familiar to me, and I felt immediately that I had come home. I still relish that delightful smell each time I come to India. All the sights and scenes I experienced that first month were also strangely familiar. The next day I started wearing a sari with bindi, and soon had my nose pierced,Indian-style.

I spent the first month in Bombay, playing the Bach suites for solo cello in parks and hotel lobbies, and listening to concerts of Hindustani classical music every evening. I was amazed by all the new sounds I was hearing: sitar, sarangi, surbahar, bansuri, tanpura,tabla, pakhawaj. Growing up in the West, I had assumed that Indian music was of the “folk” category. I was thrilled to hear so many styles of classical music, and an amazing array of ragas. I was aching to learn some of this music on my cello. But where to start? With whom to study?

Fortunately I made the acquaintance of the noted scholar Dr. Narayana Menon, that time Director of the National Center for the Performing Arts. He gave me some advice which I have always cherished. He said that I must not be in a hurry to choose a teacher and begin studying. He advised me to spend my entire 3-month holiday listening to as many concerts as possible. From this, I will naturally find an attraction for a particular style or instrument. Then in my next trip to India, I can pursue a formal study with a chosen master.

I did as he said. The next day, I left for a music-listening tour of the major cities of Northern India, cello strapped to my back. Everywhere I went, I played Bach for locals in parks and hotel lobbies by day, and attended concerts at night. After a month of travel, I came to my favorite city, Banaras. I gave a recital for the Banaras Hindu University’s School of Music, playing the famous Fifth Suite for Solo Cello by Bach. At that time, Dean of Music Dr. Ranga Naiki, and musicologist Dr. Premlata Sharma were present in the audience.

After my recital, Dr. Sharma came to see me, saying, “It always amazes us how you Westerners are able to play note-by-note memorized pieces for hours.” I replied, “Its even more amazing how you Indian musicians are able to go on improvising in a single raga for hours, always fresh, and never repeating a phrase!” I asked Dr. Sharma her advice about pursuing a study of Indian music. “This instrument is perfect for Dhrupad,” was her reply. Only many years later, I came to know the wisdom in her statement. “We have one fine teacher of Dhrupad here at BHU, Dr. Ritwik Sanyal. I will introduce you to him.”

The next day, I went to Dr. Sanyal’s home for my first Dhrupad lesson, not having any idea what is Dhrupad! In all my travels, I hadn’t even one opportunity to hear this wonderful musical genre. As soon as I heard Dr. Sanyal’s alap in Bhim Palasi, I knew this was the music for me. The low ringing tones of his voice, the timeless un-measured movements of his alap, the poignant melody, all had me mesmerized. But what was even more thrilling, was when I found that I could somewhat reproduce those phrases on my cello. Hearing the familiar sound of my cello take in a new exotic expression, I could hardly contain my excitement! I came daily for lessons with Dr. Sanyal until it was time for me to return to Florence.

But, when the time came, I just couldn’t do it. In those days, public telephones were a rarity in Banaras, and after a many-hour wait, the connection was often bad enough to be useless. So I sent a telegram to Maestro RichardoMutti, Director of the orchestra in Florence, to please fill my post , I had to stay in India. I remained in India for seven years, studying two years with Dr. Sanyal, and five years with his guru, the Dhrupad veena master, Ustad Zia Mohiuddin Dagar. I was joined my husband and son, and my daughter was born in Panvel on the outskirts of Bombay.

Along with Dhrupad cello, I studied Hindi and Marathi. Those were wonderful years, and I will always cherish the memories of the Ustad and his celestial music. After the untimely demise of my Ustad in 1990, I visited India every year to continue my Dhrupad cello study with his brother, the eminent vocalist Ustad Zia Fariduddin Dagar of Bombay.

During these last 25 years of playing Dhrupad on my cello, I have tried all kinds of modifications to my cello, with the guidance of my guru. This has been an interesting adventure in itself. I currently have two extra strings, which are plucked in the chikari style of the rudra veena. My four melodic strings pass over a sloping elkhorn nut, modeled after the veena to produce a ringing tone. One can see from my photo that I have adopted the Indian posture, holding the cello while seated on a carpet. I have eliminated the vibrato, which I had so carefully groomed in my Western classical training, so that the subtle ornaments of Dhrupad are clearly articulated.

The rest is just the life of a striving musican. I can only thank my Gurus for the inspiration and guidance they have given me, which was so strong as to last all these years. I am looking forward to shifting myresidence permanently to Pune in 2008. India is the place for me!

(c) Nancy Kulkarni

The finest recordings of Nancy Lesh (Kulkarni) have been produced by India Archive Music Ltd., New York. Nancy’s biodata and other CD releases can be accessed at www.Dhrupadcello.com.

Shujaat Khan -- “Success and growth as a musician are different things”

Shujaat spoke to Deepak Raja on January 16, 2004

Success and growth as a musician are different things. But, they are connected. If success is of the right kind, comes in good time, and one has the ability to digest it, it can be a great aid to achieving growth as a musician. On all counts, I cannot complain.

I have heard it said that an Indian musician does not achieve any credibility amongst Western audiences until he also commands a considerable presence and stature amongst audiences at home. This is not the way it has worked for me. US and European audiences opened up to me before the Indian market acquired serious interest in my music. Even today, when I am well established in India, almost seventy percent of my work is abroad.

There is a good reason for my exceptional success abroad. In the West, nobody cares about whose son you are, or whether your father is still around and whether you are still considered a “promising artist”. The market is willing to give you an opening if you deliver the goods, appeal to the imagination of audiences, and make people happy. Every decent musician can do this. But, the Western market also expects you to conduct yourself professionally – and this, every Indian musician cannot do. I have made a better headway abroad not because I am a great musician, but because I am a no-fuss, easy-to-deal-with guy who also delivers musical value. I don’t expect to be treated either like a king or God; I handle all my travel arrangements on my own, arrive at the venue in time, do my thing, collect my cheque, and disappear until the next time. It has taken me more than fifteen years to arrive at a situation of people valuing my music, independently of my professionalism.

Having achieved prior success abroad has helped me immensely in dealing with the Indian market. Whatever success I have in India today has been achieved with my self-esteem intact -- without the crawling, maneuvering, networking, and deal-making that dominates the world of professional Hindustani music. Because of my success abroad, I can command my price in India. It is not as if I do not do small concerts, subsidized concerts or even free concerts, in India. But, I have the freedom to do them when I so wish and for my own reasons. I don’t have to do them either because I am desperate enough to accept peanuts, or because I fear the consequences of poor visibility.

Having done well abroad has also helped me musically -- allowed me the time to liberate my Indian presence from the towering shadow of Ustad Vilayat Khan’s music. Had I been more dependent on Indian audiences for my livelihood, the market may have forced me to become a Vilayat Khan clone. You and I know what Ustad Vilayat Khan means to me musically. I cannot cease to be Vilayat Khan’s son and disciple any more than I can cease to be myself. I also love doing some of Ustad Vilayat Khan’s stuff – even willfully in addition to doing it unconsciously. But, I don’t want to be coerced into reaffirming my lineage at every concert, and in every raga.

By now, when India is taking me seriously, I am past forty -- no longer a kid. Nobody in his right mind can expect me to be a replica of Vilayat Khan at this stage in my life. I am not saying that the chain of expectations has been entirely broken. I can still hear orgasmic sighs and moans piercing the silence when, once in a while, I resort to a Vilayat Khan cliché. But, nobody feels cheated if I don’t do it.

With the passage of time, of course, an entirely new generation of listeners has emerged. To them, Ustad Vilayat Khan or Pandit Ravi Shankar or Ustad Ali Akbar Khan – though they are all alive – are only as real as Mahatma Gandhi or Jawaharlal Nehru. These audiences are willing to accept me for what I am. So, from every angle, my prior success abroad has worked well for me. Of course, every gain demands a price. The price I have to pay for this is that I am away from my family for almost six months in a year.

I have often been asked how different the content of my music abroad is from the music I perform in India. Today – and increasingly over the last three or four years – there is no difference. But, I am a very situation-to-situation musician, and the environment affects me. Under ideal conditions, I deliver superlative music. Under less-than-ideal conditions, I deliver only competent music. The West provides me with ideal conditions far more consistently than India does.

By conditions, I mean the concert halls, the sound systems, the professionalism of the concert hosts, and the conduct of the audiences. Amongst these factors, the acoustic environment is the most important. I agree that in my grandfather’s time, great sitar music was performed without acoustically engineered concert halls and without electronic amplification. In those days, the audiences were small – 100/150 people – the sitars were designed to address these audiences effectively without amplification, and the music was appropriate for those conditions. Unfortunately, my music is a product of the microphone era and I play an instrument designed for electronically manipulated delivery of output. I have been pampered by the opportunity of performing at the finest concert halls in the US and Europe. The contrast hurts.

Audiences abroad will not allow me to stagnate
With the success and financial comfort I have achieved by now, my music could easily have stagnated. But, I am not satisfied with the music I am playing and, as I grow, my musical perceptions are also changing. Also, fortunately for me, the quality of my audiences, especially in the US and Europe, will not allow me to stagnate. I do not have any strategy for change at each stage. Nor do I – as a rule – analyze my music. But, when queried about it, I can look back and decipher some patterns of experimentation I have been through. The residue of each stage has probably remained in my music.

The early days were of playing the true Vilayat Khan music. Then came the stage of western influences. Both these faded away. Then I was on a simplification and relief trip. Vilayat Khan’s exploration of the melodic potential within a small region of the melodic canvas was so dense and rich that the listener got tired of it. It worked for him. But, I wanted to introduce some relief. So, after an intense phase of melodic exploration, I started introducing lighter passages, less dense in melodic content. Sometimes, I went so far in this direction that the profundity of the music got diluted. Similarly, I started simplifying bandish-es. That effort also went so far that the bandish virtually lost its contours, and almost became a scale rendering to percussion accompaniment. Both these fads passed. Then, at one stage, I started working on introducing the unexpected in my phrasing strategy – the kaleidoscopic juxtaposition of notes and phrases, Ustad Ameer Khan’s gift to Hindustani music. Even in this direction, I went so far that, sometimes, that I lost a grip over the expected. This too passed.

As a practitioner of an improvisation-dominant art form, I have persistently crusaded – through my music – against the dominance of sitar music by “Tihai-s”. If you are a master of the rhythmic element, and have a melodic imagination, you don’t need tihai-s. It is not as if I don’t use them. But, I am ashamed and even apologetic when I do. What is so musical about an expression which, everyone knows, you have practiced and perfected a thousand times at home, and will culminate with unfailing mathematical accuracy? There is something so childish about it! I never stop marveling at musicians who deliver pre-composed tihai-s, and look around for the applause. A small occasional tihai, which almost composes itself, and surprises even the musician, is a musical delight. That is the real role of the tihai in instrumental music.

I am attracted by the prospect of charging the atmosphere with the music – of saturating the air with the character of a movement. In this direction, I often find myself unearthing and reliving memories of my father’s music of the 1960s, and how he handled the exploration of melody. This is why, increasingly, I play fewer movements, and explore each of them in a sustained manner over a certain minimum duration without a break. You can see this most clearly in my jhala. My percussionist has been instructed to refrain from clever playing once I begin the jhala. In the jhala, I like taking up themes, and weaving my improvisations around them. With the constant acoustic-rhythmic experience of the jhala, like prayers being sung in a temple to the accompaniment of the temple gong or the bells, one can have the audience swaying in the seats in response to the music – put them in a trance. That’s why they are there, to begin with.

And, finally, my current fad. Bandish-es – vocal and instrumental – have traditionally been composed to begin on certain beats of the rhythmic cycle. I am now working on composing and playing bandish-es, which commence on unconventional beats of the rhythmic cycle. Their beauty is highlighted when I take an amad tan and dovetail it smoothly into the mukhda. The subtle interplay of melody and rhythm in such dovetailing fascinates me for now. So, if you are looking for something special in my music at the moment, look for what I am doing now in the medium-to-fast tempo bandish-es.

I am embarrassed by my success
By any conventional yardstick, I am a successful musician. I must be the only Indian musician to have had an Income Tax Department raid at home. I have and can buy everything I want. I even have a Grammy nomination to my credit, a hard-core dollars-and-cents testimony to musicianship, which cannot be bought, influenced, or lobbied for. I am secure enough in my profession to do all my experimentation with new directions in the concert hall, under the flood lights, in public gaze. But, when I study the music of the greats of my era, I am embarrassed by my success. I don’t deserve it. I have no desire to become a Page 3 celebrity. Unlike Ustad Vilayat Khan, I am not driven by the conviction of being born for a place in history. I am satiated with what I have. All I want now is to play the music that I am happy playing, and enjoy the love and warmth of my family and friends – all those who are not here only because I am Ustad Shujaat Khan.

(C) Deepak S. Raja 2007

The finest recordings of Shujaat Khan have been produced by India Archive Music Ltd., New York.