Music gharanas tended to be conservative, but a new generation of musicians is experimenting within that tradition. Neha Bhatt finds herself in the vortex of the ensuing debate between versatility and degeneration.
When she’s offstage, classical vocalist Shubha Mudgal jots down amusing anecdotes on her blog. Whether it is pointing out the lack of basic hygiene at performing venues, or a critique of the event listing by the media, Mudgal is open and unflinching in her writing. She upholds an era of classical musicians who have, in recent years, held a less rudimentary tune that the masses can comprehend. Through her khayal and thumri, or her Indi-pop avtaar, she has been an accessible, versatile voice, unfurling a new audience and changing the way listeners perceive Indian music. While experimentation in music is as old as music itself, this generation’s frequent, recent innovations, supplemented by technological advancements, makes their feat no less cutting-edge than the rest of the music industry.
So, while young musicians like sitar maestro Pandit Ravi Shankar’s daughter Anoushka Shankar cannot shy away from their inherited legacy, a parallel platform to ferry global collaborations has proved useful. The Anoushka Shankar Project, which the 27-year-old musician began a few years ago, was chiefly aimed to serve her experimental creations. Post the release of her fourth solo album Rise, an ensemble of Indian and Western acoustic and electronic instruments, Shankar realised the need for a clearer distinction between experimental work and her classical side. Paris-based musicologist Prithwindra Mukherjee, author of The Scales of Indian Music, explains this drift.
“Present day musicians have sacrificed some of the subtleties of our tradition owing to the fast tempo of life, and to the burden of a very long past.” In her experimental avataar, however, Anoushka Shankar brings to the table an ensemble of contrasting instruments, coupling the sitar with the piano, the flute or the cello. The Anoushka Shankar Project swings between the musical traditions of north and south India, and styles of flamenco and jazz.
Mostly, such fraternisations have met with scathing criticism from puritans about the dilution of the gharana principles. That perhaps is why even influential contemporaries like Mudgal have not trod beyond the middle ground. “There are many students of music, both young and old, who opt for one gharana only. Others prefer a more eclectic approach. And both paths, to my mind, are equally valid. And even for those such as I, who choose the path of eclecticism, there remains an anchoring with one or the other styles of music,” says the vocalist who hails from the Gwalior gharana, but the characteristics of the Agra-Atrauli and Jaipur gharana form an inextricable part of her sensibility.
The gradual shift from a single set of principles to imbibing from many leaves little room for conventions. Exponent of the Mewati gharana and trained under Pandit Jasraj, Pune-based vocalist Sanjeev Abhyankar’s meditative approach has been especially popular in Maharashtra. “There isn’t any one style of singing or performing that is supreme. There are innumerable possibilities! As long as one’s solo performance doesn’t suffer, why should one not perform an amalgamation?”
More From This Section
His analogies often steer towards cricket — it is the IPL season after all: “Even if a good batsman in cricket wants to try and play baseball, if people would like to see him play that, they will,” he insists. His contribution, he believes, has been within the frame of each raga he performs, influenced by the alaap of Hari Prasad Chaurasia, the layakari of Shiv Kumar Sharma, the deepness of Ustad Amjad Ali Khan’s sarod and the energy of Ustad Zakir Hussain.
The author of the book The Music Room, journalist Namita Devidayal, who writes of her own journey within Indian classical music, interspersed with the legends of the Jaipur gharana, explains that branching out from conservative musical traditions is directly related to the changing system of patronage. “There is so much more access to other elements of music that the younger generation imbibes from other gharanas and traditions apart from their own. It’s really the attitude of possession that has changed. Historically, gharanas were invented to make renditions distinctive, so that they appear attractive to their patrons. But now, musicians do not want to confine themselves to one tradition.” But her guru, Dhondutai of the Jaipur gharana, who trained under the legendary Kesarbai and Alladiya Khan, doesn’t endorse this shift to what she calls degeneration. “Gharanas will continue to hold relevance, just like the daal in each house is cooked differently. This special taste must be kept intact. If you try to mix, it doesn’t go together. The audience must be able to identify this distinction. We are destroying this parampara (tradition). It is wrong to try to break the walls between gharanas,” she says.
If she imposes rigid tradition, younger musicians are vociferous in their rejection of convention. The son of Pandit Vishwa Mohan Bhatt, Salil Bhatt denounces limitations on the creation of music. “I don’t believe in orthodox systems that put limitations on the baaj (style). Why should one work with embargos and taboos?” he asks. This is the time of the contemporary, he says. “We need to exercise scrutiny over what is being churned out. People do not only want to listen to the same old ragas. Music has no boundaries. Too much discipline cages the imagination.”
The younger Bhatt, who identifies with the blues, calls the planet his “playground”. Recently, he played with aboriginal musician Hai Yaan from Taiwan (who, incidentally, resides on a tree). Bhatt’s fusion album Mumbai 2 Munich, in the news this month, is a jugalbandi with German jazz artiste Matthias Muller. Overseas, Bhatt has been popular in fusion concerts, playing in one of the biggest musical ensembles in Canada titled Slide to Freedom that gathered musicians of country, blues, funk, folk, jazz and classical music. The traditions of Maihar gharana — to which the great instrumentalists Ustad Allauddin Khan and Ali Akbar Khan belonged — that Bhatt initially trained in, doesn’t hold him back from aligning with the style of Western musicians BB King, Carlos Santana, Joe Satriani and Jerry Douglas.
But as far as collaborations go, not every musician today is eager to experiment. Currently touring within the US, Ustad Shujaat Khan finds the energy that comes with interacting with different audiences at his sitar concerts across the globe far more challenging than making fusion music. “Innovations are not my motivation. Fusion sometimes is not even coherent.
There is so much we can do with each raga that I don’t find the need to do something new. You can listen to Raga Yaman 50 times and each time it will be different,” he shares. Tongue-in-cheek, he takes a dig at record companies, recalling a recent episode. “After my album Call of the River last year, I was approached by a company that wanted me to compose Call of the Road! What do these executives who run these companies know about music?”
Santoor maestro Pandit Bhajan Sopori’s son Abhay, meanwhile, has found a way forward in providing a stage to lesser known artists. His organisation, SaMaPa (Sopori Academy of Music and Performing Arts), that goes by the motto “Music to the masses”, holds festivals to promote new musicians while educating students at various institutions. “There are little ways in which you can create avenues for young musicians. I have been a target of lobbyism as well, but because I had my father’s backing, I was able to stay away from the politics of it. But what about others who don’t have that backing?” he asks, adding that there is a need for honest festival organisers.
Defending the tradition of the gharanas, the young santoor player from the Sufiana gharana emphasises that conventional discipline is essential even today. “Learning the notations in Western classical music has helped me in compositions that I have created for television serials. The training (also) came handy when I organised a folk ensemble in Delhi. I’m now keen to bring together folk artistes from other parts of India as well,” says Sopori.
He and Salil Bhatt are a few of the artistes of this generation who can also be credited with remodelling their instruments. “With advanced technology, I was able to bring in a few changes to the santoor to enhance the sound. My open string concept gave a huge boost to the volume, so that each sound would sustain for 10-15 seconds as opposed to 4-5 seconds. These innovations came with the knowledge I had playing other instruments like the sitar, sarod and guitar.” Bhatt, meanwhile, using new wood, has reconstructed the mohan-veena to give birth to the saatvik-veena. “Its uniqueness is not in its sound but in the concept that it is your own creation,” he explains. Sopori has also taken ancestral compositions and adapted them from Sufiana to classical.
Record labels complain of a 50 per cent drop in sales after the attack of the internet download but report that connoisseurs relish a classical CD as much as a mix. Mahesh Babu, director of Ninaad Music, a classical music label, says, “An Anoushka Shankar or a Rahul Sharma (son of santoor player Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma) album is popular, as is pure Sufi or Rajasthani folk or Hindustani classical. Buyers are eager to buy theme-based CDs like meditational or devotional music. The alternative for every musician in this case is to broadcast their music on their own websites or on YouTube and MySpace.”
