Cyclic Time in Indian Art Music.Pdf
JOURNAL OF THE INDIAN MUSICOLOGICAL SOCIETY journal of the
The Journal of the Indian Musicological Society, founded in 1970, is dedicated to promoting the study and research of music from the South Asian indian musicological society subcontinent, including folk music and dance. Apart from the Journal, the Society publishes Editors: books and organises seminars, exhibitions, and Wim van der Meer Suvarnalata Rao lectures. Wouter Capitain VOL. 41 • 2011-2012 • 41 VOL.
INDIAN MUSICOLOGICAL SOCIETY VOLUME 41 • 2011-2012 • MUMBAI INDIA Oricon House - 2nd Floor - 12 K Dubash Marg - Mumbai 400 023 / INDIA Registered with the Registrar of Newspapers for India under Regd. R.N. 20468/71 Indian Musicological Society, ESTABLISHED in other cultural performances, exhibitions, concerts PUBLICATIONS OF THE INDIAN MUSICOLOGICAL SOCIETY November 1970, is a body, registered under the or lectures as are likely to promote the aims and All prices subject to revision Societies Registration Act XXI of 1860, holding objectives of the “Society”. Maharashtra State Registration No. Bom, 21/1971 01. Journal of the Indian Musicological Society : Annual : volume 33 : 2002 : Jan- Dec. GBBSD Dated 18.1.1971. It is also registered as a MEMBERSHIP: is open to teh citizens of all Subscription : India : Institutions : Rs. 100 / Individuals : Rs. 60.00. Subscription : Abroad Public Trust, under Bombay Public Trust Act 1950, countries above the age of 18. the membership is : Institutions : US $ 25.00 / Individuals : US $ 20.00 Bearing No. F 2180 (Bom.) dated 29.3.1971. for the Calendar Year, i.e. from 1st January to 31 02. A Short Historical Survey of the Music of Upper India : By Pandit V. N. Bhatkhande, December. Re-print : 1987 : 43 pp. 23.5 x 18 cms : Rs. 85.00 / US $ 5.00 THE REGISTERED OFFICE: Indian Musicological 03. Folksongs of South Gujarat – with 24 Folksongs in Western Notation : By Madhubhai Society, C/o Lee & Muirhead Pvt. Ltd., Oricon JOURNAL OF THE INDIAN MUSICOLOGICAL Patel : Re-print : 1998, 130 pp. : Spiral Rs. 150.00 / US $ 15.00 House, 2nd Floor, 12 K Dubash Marg, Mumbai SOCIETY is the official publication of IMS. 04. The Musical Heritage of Sri Muthuswami Dikshitar : Edited by T.S. Parthasarathy : 400 023, India. members receive free copies of the Journal of Re-Print : 1998, 70 pp. : HB : Rs. 100.00 / US $ 8.50 IMS, and have the right to vote and participate in 05. Voice Culture : By S.A.K. Durga : Re-print : 2003, 154 pp. Hb : Rs. 400.00 / US $ 20.00 The AIMS AND OBJECTIVES of the IMS, in brief, the activities of IMS. members are also entitled are: To promote study and research in the field to enjoy special concessional proce to any priced 06. Essays in Musicology : Edited by R C. Mehta, Re-print : 1987, xvi + 214 pp. Hb : of music, including folk music and Indian dance; book-publication by the Society. For annual Rs. 150.00 / US $ 25.00 to promote writing on music and related arts and subscription rates please refer to pg. ii. 07. Studies in Musicology : Edited by R.C. Mehta, Re-print : 1987, xii + 197 pp. Hb : spread appreciation thereof in India and abroad; to Rs. 150.00 / US $ 25.00 promote study groups; to promote understanding Application for membership of IMS and 08. The Saman Chants : A Review of Research : By G.H. Tarlekar 1985, viii + 120 pp. Hb : and co-operation amongst scholars, performing subscription of the Journal of Indian Musicological Rs. 85.00 / US $ 15.00 artistes and composers of music; to establish and/ Society should be sent to Indian Musicological 09. Music of Bengal : Essays in Contemporary Perspective, Edited by Jayasri Banerjee, 1987, or conduct and/or subscribe and/or help in the Society, C/o Lee & Muirhead Pvt. Ltd., Oricon xii + 130 pp. Hb : Rs. 125/00 / US $ 15.00 publication of a journal of music, devoted to the House, 2nd Floor, 12 K Dubash Marg, Mumbai 10. Music and Mythology : A Collection of Essays – Edited by R.C. Mehta, 1989, Book 1 & study of music and related arts; to prepare and/ 400 023, India. 2, 51 + 122 pp. Hb : Rs. 150.00 / US $ 15.00 or publish books, pamphlets or other literature 11. Thumri – Tradition and Trends : Essays – Edited by R.C. Mehta, 1990, 83 pp. Hb : on music and related arts; to hold seminars, or http://musicology.in Rs. 100.00 / US $ 12.00 12. Composition in Indian Music : Edited by R.C. Mehta, 1993, 140 pp. Hb : Statement about ownership and other particulars about Rs. 150.00 / US $ 15.00 The Journal of the Indian Musicological Society: Mumbai 13. Music Research : Perspectives and Prospects – Reference Indian Music : Edited by R.C. (Form IV) Mehta, 1994, 92 pp. Hb : Rs. 150.00 / US $ 15.00 (As required under the Rule 8 of Press Registrar’s Act) 14. Directory of Doctoral Theses in Music : Edited by R.C. Mehta, 1994, 74 pp. Hb : Place of Publication : Indian Musicological Society Rs. 150.00 / US $ 15.00 Lee & Muirhead Pvt. Ltd., 15. Vanishing Traditions in Music : A Collection of Essays : Edited by Sakuntala Narasimhan, 12 K Dubash Marg, Mumbai 400 023, India 1999, 77 pp. Hb : Rs. 150.00 / US $ 15.00 Periodicity of Publication : Annual 16. Music : Intercultural Aspects : A Collection of Essays : Edited by S.A. K. Durga, 1999, 87 Printer’s Name : Harshanandan Trivedi pp. Hb : Rs. 150.00 / US $ 15.00 17. Essays on Indian Music : By Josef Kuckertz : Edited by Selina Thielemann, 1999, xii + 198 Nationality : Indian pp. Hb : Rs. 250.00 / US $ 25.00 Address : Urvi Compugraphics, 18. Perspectives on Dhrupad : A Collection of Essays, Eds. Deepak Raja & Suvarnalata Rao, A2/248, Shah & Nahar Industrial Estate, 2nd Floor 1999, 136 pp. Hb : Rs. 175.00 / US $ 20.00 Lower Parel (West), Mumbai 400 013, India 19. Reflections on Musicology and History : By Ashok Ranade : 2001, 120 pp. Hb : Rs. Editor’s Name : Dr. Wim van der Meer 150.00 / US $ 12.00 Nationality : Dutch 20. Indian Music – Eminent Thinkers on Core Issues – Discourses by Premlata Sharma, S Owner’s Name : Indian Musicological Society K Saxena & Kapila Vatsyayana : Edited by R. C. Mehta, 2002, viii + 133 pp. Hb : Rs. Address : Lee & Muirhead Pvt. Ltd., 175.00 / US $ 15.00 12 K Dubash Marg, Mumbai 400 023, India 21. Distance Education in Music : Edited by R.C. Mehta, 2003, viii + 106 pp. Hb : Rs. 175 / I, Shri Arvind Parikh hereby declare that the particulars given above are true to the best US $ 15.00 of my knowledge and belief. Date: 1st January 2012 Arvind Parikh Also available: Complete Backsets of This Journal Volume 1, 1970 to Volume 35, 2004 Publisher Indian Musicological Society, C/o Lee & Muirhead Pvt. Ltd., Oricon House, 2nd Floor, 12 K Dubash Marg, Mumbai 400 023, India Journal of the
Wim van der Meer (chief editor) Suvarnalata Rao (assistant editor) Wouter Capitain (layout)
VOLUME 41 • 2011-2012 • MUMBAI INDIA ISSN 0251-012X
Beginning January 1991, this Journal was announced as an annual
MEMBERSHIP AND ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION RATES: 2012
IMS MEMBERSHIP India Overseas a) Individual/ordinary Rs. 500/- USD 50 b) Institutional Members Rs.1000/- USD 50 c) Students Rs. 100/- USD 20
Rs. 2500 (for 5 years) Members are entitled to receive our copy of the IMS Journal free of cost. Additional copies if required will cost as under: India - Rs. 250/- + Rs. 125/- as postage & handling Overseas - USD 50 + USD 10 as postage & handling
For enquiries, payment, reviews of books and many more. please write to the Editor, Journal of the Indian Musicological Society, C/o Lee & Muirhead Pvt. Ltd., Oricon House, 2nd Floor, 12 K. Dubash Marg, Mumbai 400 023, India – email: [email protected].
All articles published in the Journal of the Indian Musicological Society are copyright and must not be reproduced in full, or in part, without permission. The views expressed in the Journal of the Indian Musicological Society are, in each case, those of the contributor concerned and do not reflect the policy of the Indian Musi- cological Society.
The Indian Musicological Society maintains a website at http://musicology.in
ii Preface This issue is the combined 2011-2012 edition of the Journal of the Indian Musicological Society. We dedicate this volume to the memory of Dr. Ashok Da Ranade (b. 1937), an eminent ethnomusicologist, who passed away on July 30, 2011 in Mumbai. His path-breaking thoughts and volume of works in the area of not only music but also theatre & film are indeed overwhelming. Dr. Ranade has also been one of the Founding members of the Indian Musicological Society, We feel the great void created by his demise and miss his scholarly presence, guidance, support and advice. This volume is our humble offering to the memory of this great son of India. We would also like to share with our readers that this is the last issue edited by the present team of editors. In 2006, we took the baton from the Founding Editor, Prof. R. C. Mehta and brought out five volumes (36-41). The journey has been richly rewarding and personally gratifying. In some measure we have been able to improve the standard of contributions and also the level of general presentation, lay out etc. Given the amount of interest and level of scholarship in Indian music worldwide, we tried to expand the canvas and give it an international color, both from the perspective of contributions and readers. We take this opportunity to thank all the friends who supported us in this endeavor, and hope that they will continue to support with equal enthusiasm the future activities of the Society, including the Journal. Volume 41 offers scholarly articles, essays, talks and panel discussions on various topics covering a large ground from cross-cultural musical interactions & influences, philosophical issues to organizational aspects. As usual, respecting the choice of the authors, we have done only light editing. Though we try to maintain uniformity on the level of language and formatting, we have left many choices to the authors. The first three papers highlight the aspect of interculturalism with respect to music. Durga Bor provides an interesting account of contributions made by several non-Indians towards popularizing the dance form of odissi. She juxtaposes this with the changes she has personally experienced as a practitioner of the dance form over three decades. Notwithstanding the Indian origin of tabla, today, it is played by drummers from various cultural, ethnic, religious and socio-economic backgrounds. Denise Nuttall takes a look at the globally changing ethnoscape of the iii Hindustani tabla communities and its emergence along with the Hindustani music as part of a larger movement or category of world music. Based on a case study of a musical form, nottuswara sahithya, composed by the legendary composer Muthuswami Dikshitar in the early 19th century, S A K Durga convincingly argues that the concept of interculturalism is found in all musics of the world and Indian music is no exception. The next two papers study the relations between music, culture and the society which surrounds it. They observe that music is only a part of the cultural change and cannot be kept in isolation and preserved as it was; the people involved are reinventing themselves. While Simonne Bailey looks at the changes from a perspective of a shawm player in Bhaktapur, Nepal, Wim van der Meer examines the classical music of North India. Whereas Bailey outlines changes in terms of “development” and “deterioration”, van der Meer points to the significance of such changes in keeping the music alive and not “frozen” as in in some other traditions of the world. Subroto Roy engages in a philosophical enquiry with a hypothesis; Avartan is both the physical and phenomenal property of North Indian art music and therefore, we can say that it considerably contributes to creativity in khayal, a popular North Indian vocal music genre. Huib Schippers’ article offers details of “Sustainable futures for music cultures – Toward an ecology of musical diversity”, which is a long-term collaborative project between six universities and three NGOs, funded by the Australia Research Council to develop an instrument to empower communities to forge musical futures on their own terms. Primarily directed at traditions in acute danger, it also looks at successful traditions (like Hindustani music) to find mechanisms that support a vibrant music culture. Interrelations between India and Central Asia is an area which is extremely significant, and yet, we find not much research work happening perhaps due to the languages and other cultural factors involved. Dilorom Karomat observes that music had a pivotal role to play in the inter-relations between these two civilisations, and interestingly the cultural exchanges date back to the time before Islam’s entry in to India. She argues that such exchanges continued at least until the 20th century. We are privileged to present to our readers one of the last expose by the Late Dr. Ashok Ranade. This paper was meant to set the pitch for the seminar on “Approaches to Melody, Rhythm and Language”, which was also
iv organized by the ITC-SRA (w) in Jan 2011. Ranade maintains that these fundamental concepts are common to all the music traditions across different cultures, although perception of the same may vary depending upon the cultural group involved, genres & their usage and employment. The next paper by Amelia Cuni presents a practitioner’s attempt at recreating a musical work. Inspired by John Cage’s SOLO for VOICE 58, she discusses the salient aspects of her engagement with the Cagean ragas and describes the practical realisation of its intricate modalities and remarkable challenges. Indian music is regarded as a very traditional art. Several values and tenets have been evolved over the centuries, which have been followed scrupulously by practitioners of Indian music. In recent times, various intellectuals and practicing musicians have thought it essential and useful to review such prescriptions as it was felt that many of the disciplines meticulously evolved are occasionally not followed in actual music performances. With this background, in January 2010, ITC-SRA (w) organised a seminar on the subject of “New Trends in Indian Music since Independence”. The seminar brought together prominent vocalists, instrumentalists and musicologists from both the north and the south Indian traditions as well as from overseas. Great maestros like Shivkumar Sharma and Zakir Hussain contributed actively to the discussions. We have included only a selection from the proceedings; the full text can be obtained by sending a mail to the publisher of the JIMS (see p. ii). Dr. Ranade led the panel on vocal music in the session on “Changing Aesthetic Norms”. The panelists were three vocalists: Shubha Mudgal, Aruna Sairam and Uday Bhawalkar, representing Hindustani (khayal), Carnatic and Hindustani (dhrupad) traditions respectively. The discussions centered round the role and characteristics of Indian voices, possibility of classifying them, and the assessment of any change in the use of voice. A similar session followed with respect to instrumental music. Arvind Parikh moderated the panel comprising of santoor maestro Shivkumar Sharma, chitravina expert N. Ravikiran, tabla exponent Aneesh Pradhan and Prof. Joep Bor, a historian and expert on the subject of sarangi. Primarily, two areas were covered: changes made to the physical structure of instruments and those related to the stylistic aspect. The panel also took cognisance of the emerging technology and its effect on music at large, and the current trend of cross-cultural musical collaborations. Interestingly, the musicians
v welcomed the idea of North-South exchange and possibility of learning from each other’s system. Some part of the discussion was specifically devoted to the tabla: its vocabulary and tonal quality, art of playing solo vis-à-vis accompaniment and percussion ensembles. Organisation of music events and cultural institutions/organisations engaged in this activity form a core of music life in any culture. K. Ganesh Kumar conducted a panel having representatives of various prominent cultural organisations, mainly in Mumbai but also in Chennai. The deliberations centered round the facilities provided by the organisations and issues related to government, audiences and many more. It was clear that although there are areas in which these organizations could aspire to achieve higher levels, there is no doubt that they are rendering relentless service to the cultural life of the respective cities. Audiences surely constitute the most important component of any musical activity, either live or virtual. Keshav Paranjpe engaged three panelists representing a cross-section of audiences in to a debate. The objective was to understand their views about the influence of media coverage, corporate sponsorship, marketing strategies, stage-craftsmanship etc in today’s music scene. There was also some discussion about the dwindling audiences for the classical music events. While on one hand musicians and audiences lament about the “decline” of classical music, there seems to be growing interest amongst both practitioners and audiences, especially the younger generation of artistes and audiences, to experiment with timbres, rhythms, voices and instruments that are hitherto unexplored. The panel on Fusion music moderated by Dr. Aneesh Pradhan aroused a lively discussion from the eminent panelists including Zakir Hussain, Louiz Banks, Ranjit Barot, Arvind Parikh and Aruna Sairam. Most panelists have had a first hand experience with cross-over music and could provide a glimpse in to their personal journey. It was interesting to hear that they consider this genre as “still evolving” and hence having a lot of scope for further experimenting. Wim van der Meer & Suvarnalata Rao
vi TABLE OF CONTENTS Tribute to Dr. Ashok Da Ranade Audience Response 216 Suvarnalata Rao 1 Fusion Music 237 Transformations of Indian Dance – An Odissi Odyssey Durga Bor 3 Contributors 256
Tracking the Intercultural Borders, Fusions, Traditions and the Global Art of Tabla Denise Nuttall 16
Western Influence on Indian Music – Nottuswara Sahithya of Muthuswami Dikshitar: An Intercultural Musical Form S.A.K. Durga 31
Music and Change – Shawm Playing in Bhaktapur Nepal Simonne Bailey 36
Cultural Evolution – A Case Study of Indian Music Wim van der Meer 53
Cyclic Time in Indian Art Music & Creativity Subroto Roy 72
Towards an Ecology of Hindustani Music Huib Schippers 95
Some Aspects of Musical Interrelations Between India and Central Asia Dilorom Karomat 100
Melody, Rhythm and Text Ashok Ranade 122
Chance Generated Ragas in Solo for Voice 58: A Dhrupad Singer Performs John Cage Amelia Cuni 127
Selected Panels from the SRA Conference January 2010, Mumbai Changing Aesthetic Norms : Vocal Music – Role of Voice 155
Changing Aesthetic Norms : Instrumental Music – Role of Instruments 173
Changes in Organizational Aspects Cultural Institutions/Organizations 194
vii Tribute to Dr. Ashok Da Ranade Audience Response 216 Suvarnalata Rao 1 Fusion Music 237 Transformations of Indian Dance – An Odissi Odyssey Durga Bor 3 Contributors 256
Tracking the Intercultural Borders, Fusions, Traditions and the Global Art of Tabla Denise Nuttall 16
Western Influence on Indian Music – Nottuswara Sahithya of Muthuswami Dikshitar: An Intercultural Musical Form S.A.K. Durga 31
Music and Change – Shawm Playing in Bhaktapur Nepal Simonne Bailey 36
Cultural Evolution – A Case Study of Indian Music Wim van der Meer 53
Cyclic Time in Indian Art Music & Creativity Subroto Roy 72
Towards an Ecology of Hindustani Music Huib Schippers 95
Some Aspects of Musical Interrelations Between India and Central Asia Dilorom Karomat 100
Melody, Rhythm and Text Ashok Ranade 122
Chance Generated Ragas in Solo for Voice 58: A Dhrupad Singer Performs John Cage Amelia Cuni 127
Selected Panels from the SRA Conference January 2010, Mumbai Changing Aesthetic Norms : Vocal Music – Role of Voice 155
Changing Aesthetic Norms : Instrumental Music – Role of Instruments 173
Changes in Organizational Aspects Cultural Institutions/Organizations 194
viii Tribute to Dr. Ashok Da Ranade (October 25, 1937 - July 30, 2011) Suvarnalata Rao
“Indian music is not classical music.” “All Indian culture is governed by its response to the three cycles of birth- death, day-night and the seasons.” The genius who offered such profound—and, at times even radical— formulations is no more. Dr. Ashok Da Ranade, the voice that spoke about music, theatre and literature with equal authority and conviction is silent forever. How do we come to terms with the untimely departure of a multifaceted and immensely passionate individual who almost single-handedly led the academic scene of Indian music and theatre for over four decades, and gave it a direction that it deserved in independent India? Where do researchers look for critique and guidance now, be it in the areas of literature, musicology, theatre or films? Dr. Ranade’s journey began with music—with a firm determination to study it, yet never to pursue it as a profession to earn a livelihood, lest he compromises on his principles. Trained with several stalwarts of different styles including Prahlad Ganu, Gajananrao Joshi, Laxmanrao Bodas and Prof. B. R. Deodhar, unlike his mentors, he had an exceptionally eclectic approach to music and to life itself. With a deep interest and expertise in subjects as wide-ranging as literature, sociology, economics, law, psychology, history and religion, Dr. Ranade believed in a holistic approach to study music. His pioneering contribution in the areas of art, folk and film music, theatre documentation and voice production is indeed stupendous. His writings in English as well as in Marathi on various topics were significant in bringing together the performing and scholastic streams, which otherwise tend to assume isolated positions in the domain of Indian performing arts. No wonder, he consistently maintained that performers themselves must strive to articulate concepts they theorise instead of leaving the task to theoreticians. As a champion of ethnomusicology, Dr. Ranade redefined Indian music with his thought-provoking categorisation of the huge palette of performing traditions available in India. It was his lifelong mission to break down the
1 preconceived hierarchies and barriers that exist within musical categories and genres. With the unbiased mind of a scientist and the curiosity of a child, he was a firm believer in the tradition of change and change in tradition. His publications include 20 books dealing with subjects as varied as esthetics, musicology, folk music, stage and popular music, and a number of articles that he regularly penned through newspaper columns and thematic musical presentations on various topics. At the organisational level, he initiated many pioneering projects including the degree course in music at the Mumbai University; research on regional music traditions at the American Institute of Indian Studies; and the Theatre Development Centre at the NCPA for documentation of not only Marathi but also other language theatre traditions. Dr. Ranade will be long remembered for some of the important initiatives in connection with this project. These include the bulletin Facts and News, and scores of workshops conducted at the NCPA on theatre- related topics such as voice culture, music and background score, set design & light arrangements, costume & make-up and many more. Thanks to his vision, today we can access a huge repository of reference material—rare documents, scripts, interviews, photographs and many more, at a single loca- tion. At the NCPA, Dr. Ranade innovatively applied his research to curate several musical productions on interesting themes like Radha, Devgani, Sangeet Rang and Sawan, to name a few. Most recently, he revived Baithakichi Lavani, which the NCPA was privileged to present at the Tata Theatre on April 9, 2011. This was perhaps the last public appearance of the master composer whose life- long endeavour was to bring an amazing depth and unparalleled richness of connections, while giving perfect structure to every subject he handled... from his life to his work. A communicator par excellence, his discourses were a sheer delight. With equal command over several languages including Russian, Dr. Ranade could keep audiences spellbound with his erudition, eloquence and confidence peppered with wry wit, which made even dreary subjects come alive and sound musical! One sensed the peace he felt within himself in the way he signed off his communications—“baki anand, Ashok”. But now that he has “finally signed off”, we can only seek solace by following the course set by this great scholar, academician, administrator, researcher and, above all, a human being of unparalleled depth and honesty. Adieu Ranade Sir!
2 Transformations of Indian Dance An Odissi Odyssey Durga Bor
For more than seven centuries European travelers have been fascinated with the female temple dancers of India, and have reported about them in their narratives. But, as far as I know, it was not until the 20th century that Westerners have had an active role in learning, performing and researching the many genres of Indian dance. In the first part of this paper I’ll focus on what has become known as Odissi, and how several non-Indians helped to popularize it. In the second part I’ll pay attention to the different interpretations of the masters, and the changes I have personally experienced since I began studying Odissi over 30 years ago.
I.
As is well known, present-day Odissi dance is a re-creation or reconstruction for the modern Indian stage after dancing ceased to exist in the temples of Orissa, more specifically, the famous Jagannath temple of Puri. It was in 1957 that we see the inception of the Jayantika, which was the coming together of dance scholars, gurus and performers in the Raghunath Mandir, Cuttack (the former capital city of Orissa), to codify Odissi dance by deciding on a repertoire, and creating a standard for its technique. Members of this alliance drew from what had been performed by the few remaining dancers of the Puri temples, known as maharis (who were marginalized and not a part of this alliance due their low social status), the young male acrobatic dancers dressed as females referred to as gotipua, temple sculptures which helped to set the form, and dance treatises such as the Natyashastra, Abhinaya Darpana, and Abhinaya Chandrika. Gurus and dancers were also employed by the Anapurna Theatre in Cuttack during the 1940s to create dances to be integrated into dramas, and some of these, particularly Das Avatara by Guru Pankaj Charan Das, had an impact on the repertoire as well. But even before the Jayantika took place, a Jewish refugee from Budapest, the archeologist, dance critic and journalist Dr. Charles Fabri, was promoting the young Odissi dancer Priyambada Mohanty, after seeing her perform at the Inter University Youth Festival, New Delhi, in 1954 where she took third prize. This was the first time Odissi was recognized outside Orissa. Almost two decades earlier, in South India, Rukmini Devi had popularized Bharat
3 Durga Bor Natyam by reformatting it to meet the public’s approval. What Priyambada had in common with Rukmini was that she too was an “upper caste” Brahmin, but according to her, young girls had started learning Odissi and were already competing on a state level by the late 1940s (Mohanty Hejmadi and Hejmadi Patnaik 2007: 56). Oriyan dance scholar Dhirendranath Patnaik also performed Odissi at this competition, dancing a version of Das Avatara. Of Mohanty’s performance, Fabri writes in The Satesman, “there was a strikingly original Odissi dance by Kumari Priyambada Mohanty, obviously a born dancer ...” (ibid.: 59). Again in 1956, she participated in the same festival winning first prize, and the dance was referred to as “Classical Dance (Oriya)” on Priyambada’s prize certificate, even though the term Orissi or Odissi had already been coined. (ibid.: 120) Earlier, the temple dance of Orissa was simply referred to as natch or mahari dance. While Dinanath Pathy claims that the late Kavichandra Kalicharan Patnaik introduced the name Orissi in 1948 (Pathy 2007: 25), in a 1990 interview Pankaj Charan Das explained to me that when he was choreographing for the Anapurna Theatre, someone asked him what the name of this dance form was. Embarrassed by the stigma surrounding the maharis at the time, he came up with the name Orissi, obviously based on the name of the state of Orissa. (It is interesting to note that the pronunciation of “Odeshi” is a current practice, keeping truer to the transliteration from the Oriya script, by “un-Anglicizing” it.) It was under the patronage and interest of Charles Fabri that Priyambada Mohanty gave full evening performances at Sapru House in New Delhi on October 14 and 15, 1961. She had been initially trained by the doyen of Odissi music and dance, Singari Shyam Sundar Kar. He belonged to the singari caste, the men of which were appointed to dress the wooden statue of Lord Jagannath in the Puri temple in the evening ritual known as Bada Singhara Vesha, at which time a mahari would sing and dance. Shyam Sundar Kar had been teaching her music, when he came to know that she was learning a dance style developed by Rabindranath Tagore. He thought she should be learning the dance of Orissa, and thus began teaching her Odissi dance, which eventually led to her success (1990 interview with Priyambada Mohanty). There is no doubt that Odissi would continue to grow and prosper, but it is fair to say that an European helped to put Odissi on the Indian dance map. In the March 1960 issue of Marg he had written an article defending the style,
4 Transformations of Indian Dance: referring to a paper he had published seven years earlier, where he ventured to call it one of “the most perfect classical systems of Indian dancing surviving”. In this article, he also claims to have been the first person to have written the name “Orissi dance” (Fabri 1960: 4). As an introduction to Pryambada’s 1961 performance, he described it as “a purer and older edition of Bharat Natya, less codified, less punditic and that it preserves a tradition certainly identical with that depicted on the ancient temple walls of Orissa ...” (Mohanty Hejmadi and Hejmadi Patnaik 2007: 63). By this time the repertoire that we are now familiar with consisted of a mangalacharan, Batu or sthai, pallevi, abhinaya (which drew from traditional Oriyan poems as well as the Gita Govinda), and ended with Mokshya (ibid.: 61). But in the youth competitions a few years earlier, Pryambada had performed one continuous item, having elements from all of the above pieces. Her 1954 performance took only six to eight minutes, while her 1956 performance was about ten minutes longer. Fabri also helped to style the present-day costume, being critical of the exaggerated make-up and the heavy jewelry, which often fell off while dancing. His suggestions lent to the simplification of the dress, which still takes up to two or three hours to don including hair and make-up, and perhaps could further be simplified without compromising the effect. It was also Fabri who convinced Bharat Natyam dancer Indrani Rehman in 1957 to study in Orissa after her mother had told her about this newly discovered form (ibid.: 60). She was among the earliest, if not the first non- Oriyan, to learn this form. Her search for a master led her to Deba Prasad Das, then based in Puri. Indrani’s role was major in that she was the first modern-day Odissi dancer to perform outside India. She was half Western, her mother being American, which created quite a stir in India when Indrani won the very first Miss India competition in 1952. Not only was she half American, she was also married and a mother, which certainly put her out of the “Miss” category. It is interesting to note that the Miss India contest was promoted by the manufacturer of Afghan Snow Beauty Aids (Afghan Snow being a face crème which whitens the skin), and two American companies, Pan American Airways and Catalina swimwear. After being spotted by scouts, who were sent to her house to convince her to compete first in the Miss Calcutta pageant and later in the Miss India competition, she initially declined (Rehman 2001: 77).
5 Durga Bor Indrani’s mother, born Esther Luella Sherman, used many different aliases throughout her dance career, but settled on the name Ragini Devi. Gaining some notoriety in the United States, she danced in Vaudeville, often in the “orientalist” style, and was said to have turned down an offer by Ruth St. Dennis to join her troupe. Esther Sherman was among the earliest Western pioneers heading for India in search of dance, arriving in 1930. While St. Dennis never studied Indian dance, she preceded Sherman when she toured India in 1926-1927, having been well-received by colonial audiences with her interpretation of the Nautch. (This was parallel to the anti-nautch movement that was gaining great momentum). Just prior to that, in the early 1920s, the famous Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova performed in India (ibid.: 24-25). As is known, Pavlova also collaborated with dancer Uday Shankar. Ragini Devi wrote Dances of India (1928) which she claimed to be the first book on Indian dance to be written in English (ibid.: 88). Though she never learned Odissi, as her daughter did, she did help to bring it to the public’s attention in a 1958 article published in The Illustrated Weekly of India, featuring Guru Deba Prasad Das, with photographs of her master taken by her son-in- law, Habib Rehman. She also devoted a chapter to Odissi in her volume Dance Dialects of India, published in 1972. Ragini Devi began learning Bharat Natyam, and eventually studied Mohiniattam and Kathakali. She was the first non-Indian to learn Kathakali, and the first woman to study it at the famous Kalamandalam in Kerela. She toured throughout India with a troupe of musicians and dancers in a type of variety show, performing both traditional and non-traditional pieces in different styles. After leaving India, she returned in the late 1940s and again tried to take to the stage, but saw the change that had taken place was not conducive to the variety shows that were earlier in vogue in the 1920s and 1930s. Well-trained solo dancers became the norm, presenting their traditional styles with fixed repertoires. Her daughter followed suit. It was the Odissi dancer Sanjucta Panigrahi who allowed a deeper definition of the form by her involvement with the Italian-born dramatist and theatre anthropologist Eugenio Barba. Barba is known for his cross-cultural research at the School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA) (Watson 2002: 1). He first met the Indian dancer in Holstebro, Denmark, in 1977. Sanjucta was arguably Odissi’s most extensively-toured exponent. She and Barba began collaborating in 1980 at the first ISTA meeting in Bonn, Germany. In an interview with Ian Watson, Panigrahi describes her time with Barba as mind-
6 Transformations of Indian Dance: opening to the way other dance forms execute movement and use of space. She was able to apply that knowledge, making her aware of certain aspects of Odissi. As she explained, she learned by mimicking her guru without thinking or questioning the underlying use of tension and body mechanics. (Those who have studied dance in India know that the teaching is done through imitation, which is referred to as anukarana, with little or no explanation in regards to body principles.) But even with her newly-found knowledge of the moving body, Sanjucta claims her time with Barba did not affect her performance of Odissi in the least, as it was so imbedded into her from an early age. It did, however, affect the way she taught, using ISTA’s way to define and analyze the body (ibid.: 68-75). Barba also learned much from Odissi and other dance forms such as Balinese and Noh. According to Watson, “one of his basic pre-expressive principles lies in the manipulation of balance and one’s center of gravity” (ibid.: 7). Drawing from these styles, Barba observed the alteration of the normal center of gravity and the way the body weight is distributed, first at the feet, then the way the legs are bent, followed by the manipulation of the spine, as in the basic Odissi pose tribhangi (ibid.: 7). The stances of Odissi and other non-Western forms are fundamentally different from the daily use of the body. These stances take much more energy to execute and infuse a greater presence emanated by the dancer. When the basic principles of stance and weight distribution, so obvious in Odissi, are applied to a character in a Western play for instance, without any attempt at imitating the form, Barba points out that the actor’s character is thus enhanced. Though not a new theory to Western theatre, eastern forms helped Barba to make his point. Sanjucta continued to collaborate with Barba, attending ISTA meetings all over the world until her death in 1997. It can, therefore, be said that she was not only a collaborator, but his student as well as his teacher.
II.
Now that we have seen something of the influence the West has had on Odissi, and visa versa, I would like to discuss the impact Odissi has had on me, a second-generation American. I will share my observations of its transformation from the first time I became aware of it in 1975 to the present day.
7 Durga Bor It was not until I attended Naropa Institute (now Naropa University) in Boulder, Colorado, as a dance and philosophy major that my quest for a dance form got stimulated and satisfied. I had already taken lessons in Bharat Natyam and was a fan of Indian classical music, having lived in close proximity to the Ali Akbar School of Music in northern California during the India craze of the 1970s. Knowing nothing of this remote style, as Bharat Natyam and Kathak had already gained some popularity in the States, I began to study with Guru Surendranath Jena at Naropa and learned intensely with him in 1975 and 1976. Group classes were taught for three hours per class, three days a week. At the end of 1976 I found my way to India, and enrolled at Triveni Kala Sangam, a school for music, dance and the visual arts in New Delhi, where I was able to eventually earn a five-year diploma. When I was taught by Guru Jena, I had no idea that his style was quite unique and further removed from what came out of the Jayantika than some of the other prominent guru’s styles. Surendranath Jena had come from a jatra, or street theatre tradition, before becoming a student of Odissi. When I first started, he had not yet developed his own basic steps, but did teach some of the basic kundis and arasas that were used by other gurus (kundis being short combinations of steps, the arasas are a little longer combinations in specific talas). Later he had developed his own kundis and arasas based on his own particular style, which I did eventually learn. The style of Surendranath Jena has been criticized as being deshi, or of the village, which neither he nor his successors, his three daughters and son, dispute. He spent little time on fundamental training before delving into the dance pieces, and felt that the student’s body would eventually fall into his style without a rigorous basic training. In my last year in Delhi, not feeling satisfied with my progress while still a pupil of Guru Jena, I had taken lessons with Aloka Panikar, Guru Mayadhar Raut’s leading exponent at that time. Aloka gave me a greater definition of basic training, paying attention to the dance theory (bini-yoga) of the Natyashastra. I left Guru Jena in the mid 1980s, and it is only now that I have come to really appreciate the depth of his style after recently seeing his daughter Pratibha perform. He was a great choreographer, and perhaps his main hindrance in producing professional dancers, aside from his children, was that he paid too little attention to fundamental training. In addition, his students came from upper middle class or upper class families, whose time devoted to
8 Transformations of Indian Dance: dance was often limited, and who were, with few exceptions, hobbyists. He received no government support, and had to depend solely on the tuition of his students at Triveni Kala Sangam to support his family. After I left him, he did develop a systematic training, as I learned from watching a video made by Alessandra Lopez y Royo, who wrote about Surendranath Jena’s style and videoed Pratibha teaching these basic steps to students. After five years with Guru Jena, and many dance items later, I was fortunate to have been invited to attend an intensive training workshop at the National Centre for the Performing Arts, Bombay, in 1986, taught by the renowned Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra, who was affectionately referred to as Kelubabu. I was very familiar with his style, having attended performances in New Delhi and Orissa of many of his disciples, including Sanjucta’s performance when she received the National Sangeet Natak Academy Award in 1976. But I had never before, not in any style of dance, experienced such a rigorous basic training. I could apply the fundamentals of what Kelubabu taught to Guru Jena’s items, putting more attention to grace in the general body movements and the mudras. I also began to notice subtle differences in the styles of the well-known masters, even when dancing the same ukuta or theka. The lucid chest movements unique to Odissi (dakshyachala and bamachala) were executed differently in all three styles that I studied. Guru Jena pushes the chest out and up, while the thrust in Kelubabu’s chest movement is downward. Jenaji uses rasas such as bibhatsa and raudra (disgust and anger) in his abhinaya, drawing on themes from Tantric traditions and every-day moods and actions, particularly of women. Kelubabu’s dances more often highlight sringara and bhakti (romance and devotion). Jena’s choreographies are characterized by rapid changes in both rhythm (tala), song and movement. Kelubabu’s pieces more often follow the development and flow of a raga – as in alap, jod and jala. With an emphasis on grace and beauty and a mastery of rhythm, Keluji is best known for his pallevis (non-literal dances which express the melody) and ashtapadis. Guru Jena prided himself with being different from the other gurus. While I was with him, he more or less stuck with the above-mentioned standard repertoire, often substituting Mokshya with his own rendition of Das Avatara. By that time he had composed his own mangalacharan, called Matru Pranam, which depicts the goddess in all her manifestations. While the other gurus were expanding on the “traditional” mangalacharan dedicated to Lord
9 Durga Bor Ganesha, referred to as Namami, by adding Sanskrit verses (slokas) known as vandanas dedicated to different gods and goddesses, they still kept the opening and closing steps more or less the same. The standard mangalacharan begins with bhumi pranam, or respectful greetings to Mother Earth. (The Jagannatha sloka was added later at the beginning.) This is followed by the Istadeva Vandana, and the dance ends with sabapranam trikundi (respectful greetings to the god, guru and public). Guru Jena kept these elements in his mangalacharan, though he executed them with completely different steps and movements. He never added the Jagannath sloka to his mangalacharan, but rather at the beginning of a dance he first called Archana Pallevi, but later changed the name to Archana Puri. It should also be mentioned that earlier pallevis, such as Basant and Kalyani, had an element of nritya, opening with verses describing the raga and using abhinaya which often personified the raga. But later this practice was dropped. As noted, Guru Mohapatra is famous for his ashtapadis, and Guru Jena, though having choreographed many ashtapadis, leans towards dances depicting Shiva and his consorts, which the late Debuprasad Das also favored in his choreographies. While I never had the opportunity to study with Guru Das, he should not go unmentioned when talking about the revival of Odissi, nor should Guru Pankaj Charan Das, Mayadhar Raut or Mahadev Raut, all seemingly present at the Jayantika (Pathy 2007: 25). Mayadhar Raut’s style is very similar to Kelucharan’s, but with obvious differences. Having been groomed in Bharat Natyam and Kathakali at Rukmini Devi’s Kalakshetra in his younger years, his Odissi reflects a more rigid execution of movement, and is less lucid than some of the other styles. Of the senior gurus, only Mayadhar Raut is still alive. Guru Pankaj Charan Das was the only master who came directly from the mahari tradition. In his early choreographies there is an element of hip movement which is not present in the other styles. Though Odissi dancers switch effortlessly from a right to a left tribhangi, which changes the position of the hip, this is done by shifting the weight through the feet (keeping with the ideas mentioned by Barba) and not by moving the hip itself. Pankaj Charan Das worked as a choreographer in the Anapurna theatre, and between sets both he and Debuprasad Das were employed as stand-up comedians, in a type of Abbot and Costello or Laurel and Hardy role, Debu being short and a bit stocky, while Pankaj was tall and slim. According to my 1990 interview with him, Pankaj Das stated that he was paid for his comedic
10 Transformations of Indian Dance: role, but not for his choreographies. While in his later years, to some he appeared to be curmudgeonly, during my interview he had a keen sense of humor and had me laughing heartily. I found nothing unpleasant about this man, on the contrary. My current master, Guru Gangadhar Pradhan, spent the most time grooming me in the fundamentals of Odissi. A student of all of the above masters with the exception of Guru Jena, he chooses to follow Kelubabu’s style of movement more closely. He is adept at creating dance dramas, and is a scout for talent, having brought young men in their early teens from villages to his school, the Orissa Dance Academy, training them rigorously to go on to be both performers and teachers. Most of the males performing Odissi come from humble backgrounds, while the women are, by and large, from middle or upper middle class families. The boys are trained in the guru-shishya tradition, often living under the same roof as the guru and seeing to his needs. The girls, on the other hand, are brought to the school for their dance classes by family members. Guru Pradhan started his traing as a gotipua, having been dedicated to the temple of a neighboring village. The newborn Gangadhar did not respond like a healthy baby for the first three to four hours of his life. His eyes remained closed and he was listless. His grandmother placed him on a banana leaf, and she and his parents performed a puja, making a deal with the gods that if he survived, he would be given to the gotipua troupe belonging to the Shiva temple in the village of Dimiresena for five years. Before he was old enough for temple service, he fell off a bullock cart, which rendered him unconscious and bleeding profusely. Again his father prayed, promising to give his son to the Balunkeshwara Mandir for an additional five years if he would survive. A year-and-a-half later (it was in the early 1950s, though Guru Pradhan cannot pin down the dates exactly, not even of his birth), he was given to gotipua master Banchhanidhi Pradhan for training. But he considers his first true guru to be Chandrashekar Patnaik, who was the keeper of the temple. For a time he trained with them simultaneously. At his dedication ceremony to the temple there was a small puja and he received a sari, but in our 1990 interview he told me he forgotten most of the details, though he remembers being wrapped in a sari in mahari fashion. He was no longer considered a part of his family as he belonged to the temple. In spite of this, his parents would regularly visit him. Guru Pradhan showed not only a talent as a dancer, but also for the mardal, the cylindrical drum used to accompany Odissi. He
11 Durga Bor continued on to study with the best gotipua gurus and eventually Odissi masters (often one in the same) as well as with the above-mentioned Singari Shyam Sundar Kar. During the period Gangadhar was training with Chandrashekar Patnaik, Dhirendranath Patnaik was researching the gotipua tradition, and Gangadhar remembers him coming to the village to consult with Chandrashekar Patnaink. As is known, D.N. Patnaik has played a major role in the reconstruction and popularization of Odissi, both as a dancer and as a scholar. In an interview with him in 1990, he told me that during the period of the Jayantika, on a quiet night while he was visiting the Jangannath Temple in Puri, he noticed that the arms of the deity, in their 90 degree angular bend at the “elbow”, would add a classical touch on par with the outstretched arms of Bharat Natyam. Thus, he takes credit for adding the chouk or squared position of the arms, which represents the first mudra of the Natyashastra’s verse for pataka hasta, natyarambhe, which means, “the beginning of a dance”. Earlier, he had been confronted by Rukmini Devi at an annual function at Kala Vikash Kendra, who thought that Odissi was a poor imitation of Bharat Natyam, and suggested codifying it to meet classical standards. He wrote the first book on Odissi, called Odissi Dance, which was first published in Oriyan in 1958, and later (in 1971) in English by the Orissa Sangeet Natak Academy. Gangadhar now runs the Konark Natya Mandap, an impressive dance village in the town of Konarak where the great Surya Temple or “Black Pagoda” resides. His annual dance and music festival at Konark has become internationally famous. I am very grateful to him for the time he spent with me. I had returned to India in 1989 on a fellowship from the American Institute of Indian Studies (AIIS) to study with Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra in Orissa. After my time with him in Bombay in 1986, I was keen to continue where I had left off. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived in Bhubaneswar, he had taken ill. During that period he was employed by the Odissi Research Centre where he spent his time grooming senior students. His illness eventually led me to seek out an alternative. Dhirendranath Patnaik and Illeana Citaristi both assured me that Gangadhar Pradhan was following in Kelubabu's footsteps as a guru. How lucky I was, as Gangadhar was not yet as busy and known as he is today. He took the time to teach me for two solid hours, six and sometimes seven days a week. Simultaneously I was learning new dances from his cousin at the Orissa Dance Academy, Manoranjan Pradhan, now a guru in his own
12 Transformations of Indian Dance: right. Gangaji’s basic exercises are gotipua based, and very athletic, which strengthened my body considerably. The floors of the Orissa Dance Academy were cement. I had been spoiled with the wooden floors of Triveni Kala Sangam, and in my studio in Amsterdam, where I settled in 1981. At one point both my feet felt broken, but I continued on, mentally blocking out the pain while I danced and limping around after dancing, but they eventually toughened to the cement. After learning a reasonable amount of material from both Gangadhar and Manoranjan, I was able to join the senior group class in the evenings which lasted as long as three to four hours. The group classes lent themselves to my most profound dance experience during that period in India. What a time that was! The musicians also had more time on their hands, and would drop into class, lending their talent. Sometimes we had a full Odissi orchestra in class, with vocal, flute, violin and Guru Gangadhar on mardal. These were some of the best accompanist in the business, like vocalist Ganeshyamo Panda, and Ramesh Misra dropping in to play violin. Today it is almost impossible to engage a live orchestra, as the tour schedules of the musicians get filled up fast and it is becoming common place for professional dancers to use recorded music, even in Orissa. When I first visited Orissa in 1978 there were few accomplished dancers and even fewer dance schools, the prominent ones being Kala Vikash Kendra in Cuttack and Sangeeta Mahavidyalaya in Bhubaneswar. Odissi dancers of the new generation, such as Sanjucta Panigrahi, Kumkum Mohanty, Kumkum Lal and Dr. Minatri Misra were known in Orissa, but it took time for this dance form to lose its stigma and to be accepted as a “classical” art. Now Odissi has become Orissa’s pride and joy, and good dancers and dance gurus are multiplying. When I was there again in 2005, I was amazed by the number of children studying dance, the amount of dance troupes performing at professional levels, and the innovations in the deliverance, as seen by troupes like Nrityagram who have taken this art to another level of performance. Nrityagram was established by fashion model and Odissi dancer Protima Bedi (1948–1998), and is based outside Bangalore, not in Orissa. Choreographers are taking on new themes expressing social issues. Feminism, the Devi, and powerful females throughout history have become in vogue, not just in Odissi but in other Indian dance forms as well. The music, which is a topic unto itself both historically and theoretically, has taken on new dimensions with some non-Indian influences, such as the use of vibraphones as in Hindi film songs. I was amused to see that Guru
13 Durga Bor Gangadhar Pradhan had once engaged a synthesizer to emulate the sound of a conch at the beginning of a dance drama. Surely, any one of the musicians could blow a clean sound from a conch, which are readily found in the markets by the coastal areas, and it would have been less costly, but because this modern “convenience” was available, it was more intriguing to be used than an actual conch. While there are scores of aspiring young Odissi dancers from around the globe who swarm to India to learn in institutes throughout India, there are those who learn it in their native countries. Some are able to study with non-Indians who have spent considerable time in India, while others train with Indians who have settled abroad. Since the 1970s, it is common for gurus and dancers to be invited to teach outside India, giving workshops at universities and other institutions. Thanks to the pioneers and the gurus, it is fair to conclude that Odissi is becoming increasingly popular outside India both as an academic and practical study and a performing art. More than ever, expatriots and non-Indians are learning Odissi, and established dancers are borrowing ideas and movements from outside of India. Non-Indians are also receiving recognition from the Indian government, such as the Italian Odissi dancer Ileana Citaristi, who received the title Padma Shree in 2006 for her contribution to Odissi. With these recent developments, Odissi will continue to flourish both on the Indian subcontinent and beyond, and has entered the global mainstream of dance.
In this paper I have made a first effort of documenting taped interviews I made in Orissa from October 1989 through November 1990. With the culmination of personal experience, having lived in India exclusively for the study of dance for over seven years, coupled with the accumulation of resource material, it is the beginning of a larger project in book form. I am indebted to those who were so cooperative, sharing their time and lives with me in order to understand the art form I chose as my path.
References 1. Fabri, Charles 1960. “Introduction to Orissi Dance,” in Marg 13/2: 4-5. 2. Lopez y Royo, Allesandra. “Odissi, temple rituals and temple sculptures,” http://humanitieslab.stanford.edu/117/868.
14 Transformations of Indian Dance: 3. Mohanty Hejmadi and Hejmadi Patnaik 2007. Odissi: An Indian Classical Dance Form. New Delhi: Aryan Books International. 4. Pathy, Dhinath 2007. Rethinking Odissi. New Delhi: Harman Publishing House. 5. Rehman, Sukanya 2001. Dancing in the Family. New Delhi: Harper Collins. 6. Watson, Ian 2002. Negotiating Cultures: Eugenio Barba and the Intercultural Debate. Manchester: Manchester University Press.
15 Tracking the Intercultural Borders, Fusions, Traditions and the Global Art of Tabla Denise Nuttall
Global and Local Articulations
While ethnomusicologists have been concerned with the historical routes and melodic crossings of Hindustani classical and South Asian popular musics stemming outward from India to Western or European cultures (Farrell 2005: 1997) for some time, little attention has been given to the variety of rhythmic reformulations which constitute, in part, the rise of tabla as a global art form. This paper is based on past fieldwork as well as recent observations of Hindustani tabla communities around the globe.1 When I began my fieldwork with tabla players in Vancouver (1994) I found a teacher, Satwant Singh, who had direct ties to one of the most celebrated tabla players of the latter twentieth century, Ustad Alla Raka Khan of the Punjab gharana (school).2 I was fortunate enough to be sent to Alla Rakha as a student and learn from him in the winter seasons from 1994 until 2000 when he passed away. During this time I got to know and study with his son, Ustad Zakir Hussain (hereafter referred to as Zakir). Zakir is undoubtedly one of the most prolific and innovative musicians of our time who pivots back and forth between Hindustani classical music and numerous other musical styles. Like his father and other learned masters before him, Zakir has played a leading role in the development of tabla and Hindustani music as global art forms. As musical and cultural borders are constantly crossed by percussion and tabla players my anthropological and ethnomusicological “fields” are necessarily multi-local ones. In this paper I
1 This paper is based on my doctoral research and dissertation Embodying Culture: Gurus, Disciples and Tabla Players” (1998). An earlier version of this paper was presented as “Interculturalism and Performance: The Traveling Traditions of Tabla in the Global Village” for the Department of Sociology Seminar Series at the National University of Singapore in 2006. My research would not have been possible without the financial support of the Shastri Indo- Canadian Institute (Doctoral and Post-Doctoral research grants) and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (Junior Scholar Grant). 2 Gharana, a Hindi word literally translates as “household”. The usage in Hindustani music or tabla circles often refers to both consanguineal and fictive kin. As a member of a gharana, tabla players are considered to be of the same house or family of musicians. In the case of performing arts in general the term is often used to refer to a style or school. Ustad or “master”. Ustad is often used as a form of address for Muslim teachers. 16 Tracking the Intercultural seek to track partial connections between tabla musicians, their communities and the music they make based on work completed in Mumbai, Toronto, Vancouver, Seattle and San Francisco and Bremen, Germany. Increasingly tabla is becoming an international phenomenon. Although its origins are in Indian and diaspora cultures tabla is played by drummers from various cultural, ethnic, religious and socio-economic backgrounds. Today a tabla player could just as easily be German, Italian, Australian, Canadian, American, Japanese, South African or Indian (not to mention the possible multiplicity of hyphenated identities arising from those localities). And although some students develop into full time musicians I have met others, from India, North America and Europe, who are also chefs, sales clerks, doctors, lawyers, businessmen and women, computer analysts, architects, school teachers and house painters. Tabla players are actively involved in creating musical and cultural communities around the globe. They are building networks of alliances with other tabla players, other percussionists as well as with other musicians both inside and outside of the Hindustani and Karnatic classical music traditions.3 In creating and maintaining their communities’ tabla players are incorporating both local and global elements. These moments of networking or community building flow back and forth between cultural borders, between cultural music systems. The communities that I have spent time with in Toronto, Ontario, the Bay Area of California, and Seattle, Washington account for only a few of the many emerging organizations, schools or groups of tabla artists in the North American context. At the same time these tabla communities are connected to larger groups (gharanas) in India. In the North American context alone the continuous movement of masters and disciples is overwhelming. While I attended Zakir’s classes in Berkeley, other students arrived from such places as Edmonton Alberta, Vancouver British Columbia, Los Angeles California, Bremen Germany, Ghent Belgium, and Detroit Michigan. In-between giving classes and co-running a record label Zakir flew off to Switzerland and India and then returned to California all within a week and a half. Contemporary tabla players are on the move. However, it is important to note that other tabla players can and do lead more of a localized existence. Although a
3 Hindustani refers to the North Indian system of classical music in India whereas Karnatic refers to the Southern system. 17 Denise Nuttall limited number of tabla players are increasingly traveling and performing outside of India many do not. And while some such as Aditya Kalyanpur, a rising star in the world of tabla and Hindustani music, who represents a younger generation of the Punjab gharana, seek to perform and teach in America or elsewhere in the world, others choose to construct their musical identities back home performing classical, fusion and other styles to audiences in South Asia. Those with more extensive socio-cultural networks (Latour 1987) are heard more loudly on the global stage. In the creation of a musical ethnography or an anthropological analysis of “lived experience” it is necessary to account for both local and global links between individuals and communities wherever they may be. These cultural flows are complex, multiple, and tied to an ever increasing number of other musical cultures. Musicologists, ethnomusicologists and anthropologists alike need to develop new ways of talking about musical communities, their complexities, and the connecting webs of musical styles, forms, and players which constitute them. In doing so, it is essential to challenge and re- conceptualize the global/local and dominant/minority dualisms which are characteristic of past studies of ethnicity and deterritorialzed peoples. Recent diaspora and intercultural studies have shown that anthropological encounters are increasingly based in multiple locations (Marcus 1986; Clifford 1997; 1993). The tabla players and other musicians I met in various locales such as Toronto, Vancouver, Mumbai, Seattle and the Bay Area of California, were in turn connected to other players throughout the world. It seems that developing multi-local ethnographies will be crucial for a contemporary anthropology and ethnomusicology. Creating the necessary tools for a successful multi-local ethnography requires that the analyst attend to the phenomenon of subjects living their lives as simultaneously here (local) and there (global). Arjun Appadurai (1991) provides such an avenue in his theory of “ethnoscapes”. Appadurai uses the idea of ethnoscapes in an attempt to capture the dynamic flow of people (immigrants, tourists, guest workers and many more.) and things as they move around the globe. Appadurai suggests that ethnographers replace older conceptions of communities, villages and and localities (1991: 209) with the more ambiguous term scapes (these include ethnoscapes, mediascapes, technoscapes, finascapes and ideoscapes). “The landscapes of group identity—the ethnoscapes—around the world are no longer familiar anthropological objects, insofar as groups are no longer
18 Tracking the Intercultural tightly territorialized, spatially bounded, historically unselfconscious or culturally homogeneous” (Appadurai 1991: 191). Re-conceptualizing cultural movement in this way, as scapes or networks of interactions and the exchange of commodities, allows the analyst to envision groups/individuals as both here (local) and elsewhere at the same time. How, then, are we to understand locality in an ethno-exploding, fast moving, transcultural, transnational world? Appadurai suggests that “the task of ethnography now becomes the unraveling of a conundrum: what is the nature of locality, as a lived experience, in a globalized, deterritorialized world? (Appadurai 1991: 196). Crucial to the development of a multi-local (global) ethnography and the study of cosmopolitan cultural forms is the task of rendering locality or subjectivity without resorting to or presupposing “either the authority of the Western experience or the models derived from that experience” (Appadurai 1991: 92). Appadurai (1997) takes this idea further in a recent discussion on contemporary art in Asia. He asks how are we to study globalization as processes which promote the idea of Asia as both active and critical in these processes? The constant in all these cultural flows or movements is the body. Cultural bodies are envisioned as the site of the local. Global processes, Appadurai notes, are localized upon and into bodies in the most extreme forms (Appadurai 1997). Theorizing a multi-local ethnography will also depend upon developing sophisticated concepts of transcultural and traveling bodies.
Sites of Crossing: Studying the Intercultural and the Transcultural
Tablascapes or tablacultures provide a good way to think about the cultural processes at work in tabla communities around the world.4 Like traveling bodies tablascapes are constantly moving back and forth between borders, diasporas, and other ethnoscapes or localities. It is essential to note,
4 It is important to note that although tablascapes emerge from and are dependent upon the South Asian diaspora (economically, socially, and politically) they also extend beyond it. In a sense tabla communities enjoy a certain amount of autonomy from the established Hindustani musical circles in diaspora contexts because the players that constitute these communities are also European, African, and other percussionists as well as South Asian. The global art of tabla, although embedded within Hindustani music circles, continuously branches outwards into other musical communities creating bridges between South Asian and other cultural or musical styles and traditions. 19 Denise Nuttall however, that cultural flows such as the ones tabla players are involved in are not uni-directional. As Clifford points out in his article Sites of Crossing: Borders and Diasporas in the Late 20th Century (1993) “cultural flows…are not linear but involved complex branches and feedback loops” (Clifford 1993: 3).5 These complex cultural flows which branch out and feedback into each other form the basis for a study of the intercultural. According to Clifford “border and diaspora cultures are produced through intercultural experiences of crossing” (Clifford 1993: 3). Studying the intercultural necessitates that researchers account for many kinds of crossings. That people are moving between cultures of origin and the newly formed or on- going diaspora cultures are one such type of crossing. However, in the case of tabla players there are multiple crossings taking place between musical and cultural contexts. Players of non-Indian origin are also crossing borders into diaspora and Indian musical cultures in increasingly larger numbers than ever before. Although the presence of non-Indian players, in some ways, re-configures tabla music as something other than classical or Hindustani I have also found that many players of South Asian origin are also re-inventing and transforming the sounds of the tabla into other styles and types of music. The hybridization, mixing or fusion of tabla sounds and rhythms with jazz, pop, lounge, electronica, hip-hop, bluegrass or other musical styles has formed the basis for a vibrant, ever-expanding category of world music. Players, such as Zakir who collaborated with other Indian percussionists and John McLaughlin to form Shakti, the North American based Rhythm Experience and Diga Rhythm Bands alongside others, such as Trilok Gurtu, who also merged tabla with John McLaughlin’s jazz fusion style, have been instrumental in promoting the kind of musical atmosphere necessary for the development and proliferation of tabla as a transglobal phenomenon. More recently transcultural crossings have given rise to collaborations between older and younger generations of tabla players mixing electronica, Hindustani sarangi and tabla rhythms such as that produced in Tabla Beat Science with Zakir, Sultan Khan, Talvin Singh and Karsh Kale. In North and South America popular music artists such as Shakira have incorporated Latin American melodies and rhythms with tabla player Rajesh Bhandari. Gurpreet Chana (“The Tabla Guy”) has collaborated with Nellie Furtado and Wyclif Jean
5 See also Clifford (1997) Routes: Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth Century, for more about the relation between diaspora and border cultures and transcultural processes. 20 Tracking the Intercultural fusing hip-hop, tabla rhythms and other styles. In New York, Suphala Patankar, who has studied with Zakir and Alla Rakha, collaborated with Timbaland on a recent release. As the movement of tabla and Hindustani music spreads out from South Asian diasporic contexts to other cultural landscapes, we see that the newer generation of artists is actively crossing musical borders from rock, to hip-hop, to American and other folk styles. The current hybridizations fusing tabla and Hindustani music with other musical styles seem endless. The emergence of tabla as a celebrated artistic form and as part of world music, however, must be seen as stemming from the movements and labors of the tabla masters in India who were active in re-creating tabla as both a solo and accompaniment instrument.6 Hindustani music, its players and the instruments which constitute it were originally connected to the Mogul courts in the North of India.7 The re-invention/reformation of tabla outside of court patronage in the early parts of the twentieth century was indeed a crucial element for the continuance and development of tabla and Hindustani classical music in India. Zakir attributes the success of this movement to the contributions of tabla masters such as his father, Ustad Alla Rakha Khan, and others such as Pandit Kishen Maharaj and Pandit Shanta Prasad. Unlike today where consumers are saturated instantaneously with media accounts of tabla solos, concerts and the whereabouts of performers, Zakir reminds us that the images of tabla masters were passed on from person to person by oral accounts throughout India. According to Zakir: ….it was at the time when there was very little media coverage available, conservatism was at its peak, tabla was still a second class instrument and the tabla player was still a lowly being on the ladder of Indian classical music. So to have taken that and worked with that and then developed it up to a point where these people became household names and were in demand as such …that audiences demanded to see them with certain musicians—to
6 Kippen (1991) has written about the changing social status of tabla players over the last 100 years. His article provides a preliminary sketch of the various images of tabla players in Indian cultures. Where once public perceptions associated with tabla players were of a “brothel” (courts and salons) existence (Kippen 1991: 17) today tabla artists are out in the public domain performing at conferences, music schools and colleges (Kippen 1991: 21). 7 Ethnomusicologist John Erdman outlines how the patronage of tabla music changed from the court system to a more public one in Rajasthan (Erdman 1985). 21 Denise Nuttall have achieved that level of acceptance and popularity with such little media attention and support and coverage is pretty amazing. (Hussain 1995) Along with other tabla masters such as Pandit Kishen Maharaj of Benares, and Ustad Ahmedjan Thirakwa of Delhi, Ustad Alla Rakha Khan’s achievements in the world of Hindustani classical music have been far reaching. His association with Ravi Shankar (sitarist) in the 1960s and 70s brought tabla and Hindustani classical music to millions of people. (Nuttall 2007: 327). This literally opened the door for the study of tabla in North America and Europe. The phenomenon of tabla playing and its development in Canada and the States can be seen as stemming from Alla Rakha’s involvement with percussionists in America and elsewhere. For example Alla Rakha developed relationships with percussionists Mickey Hart, Buddy Rich and others. Between 1968-69 Ustad Alla Rakha also began to teach tabla in various cities in the United States. In 1970 Zakir immigrated to America and started teaching as well. Zakir continues to pass on his father’s traditions today although adopting a different teaching style from his father by combining elements of North American and indigenous Indian ways of teaching musically. (Nuttall 2007).8 The types of crossings (both musical and cultural) for tabla masters such as Ustad Alla Rakha were located within the South Asian Diaspora cultures as well as within the emerging rock cultures in North America and Europe. I should also note here that others have played significant roles in re- establishing tabla either within or beyond classical musical circles such as Chattur Lal, Kumar Bose, MahaParush Mishra, Samta Prasad, Shankar Ghosh, Anindo Chatterjee, Kishen Maharaj, and Swapan Chaudhuri as well as many others. The diffusion of the Punjab gharana as a major style of tabla continues today in America and around the globe with the next generation of disciples, performers and composers taught by both Alla Rakha and Zakir Hussain. Students such as Aditya Kalyanpur, Yogesh Samsi, Prafulle Athalye, and Anuradha Pal play alongside other instrumentalists in classical concerts both inside and outside the sub-continent. Yogesh Samsi, for example, has become
8 In Ustad Alla Rakha’s school compositions were passed on orally either by reciting compositions or by imitation of the master’s playing. In Zakir’s classes we often wrote down the compositions, notating them either on a blackboard in front of the classroom to visually refer to during class or were encouraged to write down the compositions immediately after class. 22 Tracking the Intercultural a much sought after accompanist and soloist representing the Punjab school around the globe. Percussion students who have studied with Zakir in California for many years, such as Dana Pandey, Michael Lewis, Emam, Ty Burhoe, Salar Nadar, and Suphala Patankar, are also actively performing, producing, innovating and representing the Punjab style from a mainly American base.9
Mediascapes
In the past within the South Asian Diaspora classical music lovers could attend public concerts, workshops or perhaps home gatherings (mehfils). Today tabla moves quickly from one locale to another through various mediums such as video, DVD, TV (particularly MTV and “ethnic” specific or “multicultural” channels) cassettes, CDs, CD ROMs, and through the internet (on-line tabla classes, you-tube concert shorts, tabla discussion networks, facebook and other virtual communities, or information/web pages) as well as through public concert events. Media technology has not only influenced the types of venues used for classical Hindustani music it has also helped to promote and diffuse various images of tabla players as well as the many soundscapes of tabla around the world. Basic internet searches using google increasingly yield a wider variety of tabla images, sounds, and concert clips (both old and new) of the masters as they perform and tour. One can also find web pages or myspace pages of older masters who have passed such as Ustad Alla Rakha Khan and Ustad A. Thirakwa alongside current day performers. The images and soundscapes of the elders are, no doubt, created by devoted fans or disciples suggesting that their presence and importance in the repertoire and performance of tabla is still strong today. The developments of mediascapes such as the ones outlined above have also changed, to some extent, how and when tabla players communicate with each other and/or collaborate together as artists. With the advent of internet communication students everywhere are increasingly connected on a daily basis discussing compositions, exchanging ideas, passing on stories of their masters and other celebrated artists as well as forming ties with other
9 While many of these students are based in the United States they are actively performing both classically and in the areas of world music or world fusion in various parts of the globe. Often students based in the United States travel to India in the winter months to continue instruction, further network with other musicians and/or perform. For example, Emam while primarily based in San Rafael, California also lives, works and performs in Wroclaw, Poland as well as in India. 23 Denise Nuttall artists in various tabla communities outside of their own. As tabla students travel from North America to India in the winters for the classical music season they connect with others back home instantaneously. Computer technology is yet another way in which players circulate stories about other musicians or the masters and exchange valuable composition based resources. It is also a space of learning about traditions and styles that until recently were not easily accessible except through cassettes or the odd DVD/VCD circulating through government agencies (Indian) or home collections. Interesting to note here is also the emergence of ‘compositions for sale’ on the internet. This is quite a controversial topic for many disciples and masters whose compositions are literally “up for sale” elsewhere in the global music market. As compositions are traditionally family owned or gharana specific, the idea and practice of purchasing such compositions suggests a new type of commodification of Hindustani music resulting, in part, from its entrance into world music or its formation as a global art. Being able to purchase compositions on-line can be seen as either positive or negative by tabla players depending on your position within tabla and Hindustani networks. On the positive side this suggests a greater accessibility to material for practice and performance, however the downside to this aspect of global tabla seeks to undo formerly established musical traditions where the student receives compositions orally from a master. It becomes difficult to imitate one’s teacher without his presence in the moments of learning. However, I have heard of accounts of some performers teaching on-line using skype connections which allow for orally based instruction and therefore it becomes possible to check the position of the student’s hands and listen for aesthetic improvement.
Other Tabla Crossings of the Cultural and Musical Kind
The crossing over of non-South Asian players into tabla communities has changed how musicians communicate with each other but it has also changed tabla music stylistically. Zakir attributes some stylistic change to the presence of non-South Asians in the learning and performance of tabla. I asked him if his teaching and performance of tabla outside of India was changing tabla traditions. I don’t think I’m changing it, what is happening is whoever is embracing it is expressing it in his or her own fashion. Now the people who are taking this tradition on are not just Indians anymore, they are Africans or Australians or
24 Tracking the Intercultural Germans and so their approach to it is their [own] and therefore it is different. It technically changes [and] it creatively changes…because they have their own approach. They have their own way of looking at music, at rhythm, at patterns, at accents. They have heard jazz, they have heard Western classical music….so they have their own approach. It is not Indian any more so therefore it is different. And I think that my contribution can only be that I have helped it to be globally available. And people all over the globe who are embracing it are actually changing the way it looks because it is becoming part of their vocabulary and therefore it is becoming a tradition with a language that is more universal. It’s making more sense to people in South Africa at the same time to people in Argentina at the same time to people in Tokyo. (Hussain 1995) Tabla is indeed becoming a “language which is more universal”. For many South Asians who play tabla in Canada or America tabla can just as easily symbolize Indian tradition and culture while at the same time it can be used to represent Canadian or transglobal experiences. Stylistically, tabla performances outside of the classical genre are often seen as a collaboration of musical peoples, styles and forms. These types of musical groups are involved in fusing together often diverse rhythmic structures, patterns, and traditions such as Japanese taiko, African darbuka and Indian tabla. Even if percussionists are not trained classically in the art of tabla, the voicings of tabla bols, various compositions or partial compositions, are used around the globe in multiple music making communities. In San Francisco, Seattle, Vancouver, Toronto and other cities around the world, tabla players area also actively re-forming tabla patterns and rhythms with other percussive influences into their performances. For musicians such as Peter Altenberg10 who lives in San Francisco and Bremen and Leen Min- ton11 who lives in Ghent playing outside of the Hindustani musical tradition is seen as the only path to take economically and artistically. And while they
10 Peter Altenberg has studied tabla with Ustad Alla Rakha and Ustad Zakir Hussain. He is currently studying sarangi (upward bowed fiddle) with Ustad Sultan Khan in Mumbai. Peter has recently been fusing tabla rhythms with various musical styles in his band Warm Wires which is based out of San Francisco. The band mixes acoustic and electric guitar with Indian sarangi and tabla. 11 Leen Minton, a student of Ustad Zakir Hussain, actively collaborates with various musicians in Europe. In our interviews Leen mentioned that she hopes to bring together diverse influences such as differing styles of flamenco dance and music with tabla patterns/sounds into her recorded and live performances. 25 Denise Nuttall love to play classically it is important for them to have their own “voices” heard and create their own musical niche. Often in Toronto I heard various students declare “tabla is something no one can take away from me”. Tabla, then, becomes a significant element in identity construction whether that identity is “musician”, “percussionist”, “Indian”, “Canadian”, “American” and many more. The global art of tabla continues to shift ground reformulating stylistically as artists dissect and/or build upon their classical training or participation in workshops. And as such the art of tabla takes on new meanings, new forms separate from its “Indian” origins for both the artists using tabla as a resource in music making and for audiences worldwide whether they are connoisseurs of Hindustani music or whether they simply like the sounds and voicings of Hindustani rhythms within other styles. The routes that tabla players travel today suggest that tabla music will continue to be re-invented or transformed in various ways. These re- inventions, fusions, or mixings are felt and heard in India as well as in the Diaspora cultures. Fazal Qureshi’s (son of Ustad Alla Rakha Khan) collaborative efforts with the Swedish group Mynta is an interesting case in point. In November of 1987 Fazal toured Europe with his own Indian fusion band Divya. After playing a concert in Stockholm, which had been arranged by Mynta, he was asked to record with the Swedish musicians. Over the years Fazal has toured with the group in Europe and in India. Today Mynta plays to full houses in Mumbai, Bangalore as well as in other Indian cities. In their performances and recordings they have brought together diverse musical elements such as Swedish folk, Indian classical and American rap. Although Fazal’s involvement with world musicians has been constant his role as a tabla player/composer in classical circles has not altered. Recently I witnessed a concert directed and organized by Fazal in Mumbai (2009) where he presented a tabla ensemble consisting of students from the Alla Rakha School alongside Rajasthani folk musicians, a Kathak (North Indian) dancer, instrumentalists from both the Hindustani and Karnatic traditions and keyboard accompaniment. This spectacular concert and recital is indicative of recent tabla ensembles emerging around the globe which integrate various music and dance styles and cultures together. Taufiq Qureshi’s (Zakir’s and Fazal’s younger brother) contribution to percussive movements both inside and outside of India is also of importance to note here. Taufiq has long been praised as a creative, innovative composer and percussionist with such musical productions as Rhydhun. With his expert
26 Tracking the Intercultural knowledge in Indian classical percussion and African and world fusion percussion Taufiq has developed a system to transpose tabla bols (sounds) and rhythms onto African and other world percussion instruments.
Transcultural Tabla
Mapping transcultural experiences through sites of crossing can lead us to a multi-layered set of lived experiences and meanings. Although I have explored some of the connections between various tabla players, communities and locales these are partial ones. Crossing sites involves on- going moments of network building, communication and include the passing on of tabla knowledge, technique, and ways of being. Central to the study of intercultural experiences (and therefore the global art of tabla), is this continuous movement of people and things branching out and looping back. The traveling nature of people and sound, of players and their music, demands that researchers focus on the emerging ethnoscapes of group and individual identities which make up these cultural flows between diasporas and other contexts. These cultural flows are fuelled, in part, by the circulation and consumption of classical Hindustani tabla as well as by the various reformations and re-inventions of tabla into “world” and “other” music categories. It is difficult to make a living as a classical tabla player in Indian and diaspora contexts. Classical Indian music enjoys a limited but faithful audience world wide. As such tabla players (South Asian and others) actively search out alternative musical contexts. It is these newly formed alternative spaces where tabla is being re-invented as a “tradition with a language which is more universal”. Over the past few years I have met and befriended many tabla players who in the process of becoming tabla disciples and performers have, in various ways, dedicated their lives to playing and learning about classical tabla. For those who lead a double professional life as both doctors, computer analysts, businessmen and businesswomen etc. and as tabla players learning tabla also becomes a devotion, an act of worship. Learning tabla as an apprentice drummer has changed my life significantly. The more I learn the more I realize how much more there is to learn. I too have developed a deep love and passion for tabla as an instrument and for Hindustani classical music as a sophisticated cultural/musical system. I am in awe of those who attempt to take up tabla as a way of life both in India and in diaspora cultures. For many, learning tabla means entering into a life of struggle which includes training in the body and the embodied mind to adapt to Indian ways of knowing, feeling 27 Denise Nuttall and being. And for those who do not also work within other professions becoming a tabla player can also mean a life of financial struggle. Further research into the relation between Indian and diaspora musical systems and communities could focus on the efforts of instrumental and vocal masters such as Pandit Ravi Shankar, Ustad Ali Akbar Khan and Pandit Jasraj as well as the tabla masters who accompanied them to establish Hindustani musical institutions in California and other locales in North America and Europe over the past fifty years. Equally significant for the creation of a global ethnography of tabla would be the collection of life histories of tabla masters such as Ustad Alla Rakha Khan, Pandit Kishen Maharaj, Ustad Amir Hussain Khan, Pandit Nikel Ghosh and others which document the transition of tabla from an accompaniment instrument of the court system to its more modern adaptations as a transglobal rhythmic source and art form. Tracking these earlier ethnoscapes will be crucial in unraveling the many musical and cultural networks formed and reformed by the masters allowing for the virtual explosion of tabla rhythms and Hindustani classical music in the globe today.
Global Tabla and the Question of World Music
In this paper I have discussed the emergence of tabla and Hindustani music as part of a larger movement or category of “world music”. World music, often difficult to describe and analyze, is a hotly contested concept among scholars, artists and consumers alike. Bor (2008) has recently provided a necessary corrective to older concepts of world music stating that the historical roots of world music and dance must be seen as exiting prior to the late 1980s and 1990s unlike where transnational corporations, music industry types, and academic institutions seem to locate it. Rather, the globalization of artistic forms and indeed world music itself has a much longer, more complex history. No matter which definition of the concept we subscribe to, ethnomusicologists, anthropologists, music makers and music listeners are actively involved in the changing the ethnoscapes of tabla and the many musical crossings taking place today. While noting the significant possibilities for musicians in crossing physical and aesthetic boundaries in the music industry, ethnomusicologist Steven Feld (2001) warns of the many pitfalls globalization presents in the reproduction of world music. Over the years Hindustani music, Bollywood or filmi music, tabla and world fusion incorporating tabla ultimately are bought and sold
28 Tracking the Intercultural under the umbrella category of world music. The distinct genres of Indian music as classical, popular and folk give way to a culturally de-contextualized space of global or world music. However, in a competing view offered by Stokes (2003) the question of world music, he suggests, cannot be reduced to one of cultural imperialism alone. He goes on to state that “the transnationals have not been entirely successful in controlling the market of the music…” (Stokes 2003: 301). As Stokes notes globalization theories tend to focus on the circulation of commodities and capital (Stokes 2001: 302) and what is often left out are people, their lives, histories and cultures. Perhaps Appadurai’s model of globalization (1996; 1991; 2001) best describes what we are witnessing in the globalization of tabla music. He states, “The various flows we see-of objects, persons, images and discourses-are not coeval, convergent, isomorphic or spatially consistent. They are…”relations of disjuncture.”(Appadurai 2001: 5). Attention to the local in the larger framework of the global translates into following the scapes, networks, and localities of musicians and their music.
References 1. Appadurai, Arjun 2001. “Grassroots Globalization and the Research Imagination,” in Globalization, edited by Arjun Appadurai. Durham & London: Duke University Press: 1-21. 2. Appadurai, Arjun 1997. “Genealogies of the Present: Asian Modernity in the Era of Globalization,” Opening Address, Traditions/Tensions: A Symposium on Contemporary Art in Asia. Vancouver, B.C. April 26-27. 3. Appadurai, Arjun 1996. Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization. Public Worlds, Volume 1. Minneapolis & London: University of Minnesota Press. 4. Appadurai, Arjun 1991. “Global Ethnoscapes: Notes and Queries for a Transnational Anthropology,” in Recapturing Anthropology: Working in the Present. School of Advanced Research Seminar Series. Santa Fe, New Mexico: 191-210. 5. Bor, Joep 2008. Then There Was World Music And Dance…. Inaugural lecture delivered at the acceptance ceremony of the Extra European Performing Arts Studies Professorship on behalf of the Leiden Ethnological Fund at Leiden University – on March 25, 2008. Leiden University: 25-40. 6. Clifford, James 1997. Routes: Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth Century. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press.
29 Denise Nuttall 7. Clifford, James 1993. “Sites of Crossing: Borders and Diasporas in Late Twentieth Century Expressive Culture,” in Cultural Currents. January (1):1-4. 8. Erdman, Joan L. 1985. Patrons and Performers in Rajasthan: The Subtle Tradition. Delhi: Chanakya Publishers. 9. Farrell, Gerry with Jayeeta Bhowmick and Graham Welch 2005. “South Asian music in Britain,” in Diasporas and Interculturalism in Asian Performing Arts: Translating Traditions. Hae-kyung Um Editor. London and New York: Routledge Curzon. 10. Farrell, Gerry 1997. Indian Music and the West. New York: Oxford University Press. 11. Feld, Steven 2001. “A Sweet Lullaby for World Music,” in Globalization, edited by Arjun Appadurai. Durham & London: Duke University Press. 12. Fox, Richard G. Ed. 1991. Recapturing Anthropology: Working in the Present. School of Advanced Research Seminar Series. Santa Fe, New Mexico. 13. Hussain, Zakir 1995. Personal Interviews. Seattle, Washington. 14. Kippen, James 1991. “Changes in the Social Status of Tabla Players,” in Bansuri (8):16-29. 15. Latour, Bruno 1987. Science in Action. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press. 16. Marcus, George E. 1986. Writing Culture: The Poetics and Politics of Ethnography. Edited by George E. Marcus and James Clifford. Berkeley: University of California Press. 17. Nuttall, Denise 2007. “Pathway to Knowledge: Embodiment, Dreaming and Experience as a Basis for Understanding the Other,” in Extraordinary Anthropology: Transformations in the Field, edited by Jean-Guy A. Goulet and Bruce G. Miller. Preface by Johannes Fabian. Lincoln & London: University of Nebraska Press: 323-351. 18. Nuttall, Denise 1998. Embodying Culture: Gurus Disciples and Tabla Players. Ph.D. Dissertation (Anthropology). The University of British Columbia. 19. Stokes, Martin 2003.“Globalization and the Politics of World Music,” in The Cultural Study of Music, edited by Martin Clayton, Herbert Trevor & Richard Middleton. London & New York: Routledge: 297-308.
30 Western Influence on Indian Music – Nottuswara Sahithya of Muthuswami Dikshitar: An Intercultural Musical Form S.A.K. Durga
The Nottuswara Sahithya of Muthuswami Dikshitar is a fine example of intercultural musical form in the realm of Carnatic music. Muthuswami Dikshitar, one of the greatest composers of Carnatic music, composed forty compositions known as Nottuswara Sahithya in Sanskrit and Telugu, which are prescribed for abhyasagana or technical compositions in the place of gitam for beginners to practise. Intercultural compositions were sometimes created by South Indian composers during the late 18th and 19th centuries as that was a time of mutual fascination on the part of Europe and the Orient. These Nottuswara Sahithya pieces are set to English tunes and the text is the form of a poem in Sanskrit or in Telugu. Among the forty compositions, eleven have an exact replica of the English songs’ melodies. Muthuswami Dikshitar (1775-1835) lived during the British period in Indian history and had the opportunity to listen to the Western tunes played by a military band of the British East India Company. Ramaswami Dikshitar, the father of Muthuswami Dikshitar, was also a great musician and Sanskrit scholar. He brought his three sons to a place called Manali near Madras, to a music patron’s house. The latter was the zamindar of Manali and he requested Ramaswami Dikshitar to be his court musician. Therefore he and his three sons settled in Manali for some years. The zamindar was closely connected to the East India Company and he used to take Muthuswami Dikshitar and his brothers to Fort St. George, which was the British Government Secretariat. It was there that they listened to Western music played by the British band. Muthuswami Dikshitar’s brother Baluswami Dikshitar was very much fascinated by the fiddle, played by Irishmen in the British band. When he expressed his desire to learn the fiddle, the music patron arranged for an Irish fiddler to teach him the instrument. Baluswami Dikshitar mastered the technique of playing fiddle and adapted it perfectly to play Carnatic music on the European instrument. He was the first to play Carnatic Music on the violin, which has now become an indispensable accompaniment for a Carnatic music concert.
31 S.A.K. Durga It is said that Muthuswami Dikshitar was requested by the Collector of Madras, Mr Brown, to compose text for famous European airs. Dikshitar accepted his request and composed eleven compositions with Sanskrit text for the European melodies. They are the following compositions: 1. Santatam Pahimam – to the British National Anthem “God save the King/ Queen” 2. Vande Meenakshi – to the famous Irish melody “Limerick” 3. Varasikhivahanam – to the tune of “Castilian Maid” by Thomas Moore 4. Peetavarnam Bhaje – to the tune of “Taa-za-Taza” 5. Jagadeesa Guruguha – to the tune of “Lord McDonald’s Reel” 6. Subramanyam Surasevyam – to the tune of “British Grenadier”. The tune is the regimental march of the Grenadier Guards [and other regiments], a senior foot guard regiment of the British Army 7. Kancheesam Ekambaram – to the tune of “Country dance” 8. Ramachandram Rajeevaksham – to the tune of the English song “Let us lead a life of Pleasure” 9. Sakalasuravinutha – to the tune of “Quick March” 10. Sakthi Sahitha Ganapathim – to the tune of the song “Voulez-vous danser” 11. Sowri Vidhinute – to the tune of the famous English song “Oh Whistle, and I will come to you, my lad” The titles of the European airs for the lyrics are mentioned in the first Telugu manuscript (1833). Thus these eleven compositions have a Sanskrit text for the European popular tunes. Muthuswami Dikshitar’s other Nottuswara Sahithya which are twenty nine songs, were composed in the Western scale of C Major and sometimes accidentals are introduced in the C Major scale. The tala-s Tisra Ekam (three units) and Chaturasra Ekam (four units), which are the 3/4 and 4/4 timings of Western music, are set for these forty compositions. Though Muthuswami Dikshitar composed forty compositions of Nottuswara Sahitya, the notation is only available for thirty-six of them. The texts or sahithya for these compositions are in Sanskrit and Telugu and they are in the
32 Western Influence on Indian Music form of verses. They do not have the sections of pallavi, anupallavi and charanam as one finds in the other musical forms of South Indian classical music. They are set in one section as a verse. These poems or verses are in praise of the different gods and goddesses of holy places such as Srirangam, Tirupathi, Kanchi, Madurai and others. It is also interesting to know that the mudra or signature of the composer Muthuswami Dikshitar is given as “Guruguha” in these pieces before we find his mudra in his kriti-s. It can be said that these are the earliest compositions of Muthuswami Dikshitar before he turned into a great composer of kriti forms. From these early creations, forerunners of his later kriti-s which are monumental works, the attitude and the style of Muthuswami Dikshitar can be assessed. Later, when he began to compose kriti-s to many different gods and goddesses at the different shrines, he adopted many Hindustani raga-s such as Brindavani, Jai Jaivanti and so on, into the realm of Carnatic music. As he always wanted to synthesize the music cultures, he has composed kriti-s in the format of Hindustani dhrupad-s and used the Sanskrit language. As these compositions are included in the Prahamabhyasa Pusthakamu of Subbarama Dikshitar (grandson of the brother of Mutuswami Dikshitar), which was published in 1905 as technical compositions for beginners (abhyasagana), it is more probable that these compositions were prescribed and practised by beginners at that period (late 19th and early 20th centuries) as simple melodies with text, in the place of gitam-s. In the performing tradition, many Sanskrit verses are converted as gitam with raga and tala and are taught to beginners who learn Carnatic music in a systematic manner. One of the famous and popular Sanskrit verses converted into a gitam which is in practice to this time is Vara Veena Mrudu Pani in the raga Mohanam. The range of the Nottuswara Sahithya composition is mostly in the middle octave though low and high notes also figure sparingly, as in gitam compositions. The tempo of these compositions is medium. The Telugu manuscript was presented to Charles Philip Brown in Madras in 1820 by Kuppayya and Seshayya under the name of Jathiswaramulu. Though the primary source calls them Jathiswaramulu, the title Nottuswara Sahithya is a more appropriate term for these compositions (see below). From 1905, after the publication of Subbarama Dikshitar’s Prathamabhyasa PusthaRamu, these compositions have been known only as Nottuswara Sahithya. The Telugu paper manuscript no. D.2536 is preserved in the Government Oriental Manuscripts Library, Chennai (Madras). It contains those Sanskrit
33 S.A.K. Durga compositions in Telugu script with English titles for the songs which have the identical melody of European airs and consist of only twenty songs. The first twelve are in Sanskrit and have the mudra/signature of the composer as Guruguha like in his later Sanskrit kriti compositions, as mentioned above. A few of the Nottuswara Sahithya pieces are published in A.M. Chinnaswami Mudaliar’s work Oriental Music in Staff Notation (1893) but without any title for the songs. An article by Professor P. Sambamoorthy was published in the Journal of the Music Academy, 1951 and Dr V. Raghavan contributed another article on Nottuswara Sahithyam of Muthuswami Dikshitar in the Journal of the Music Academy, 1977. Subbarama Dikshitar published Prathamabhyasa Pusthakamu in 1905 where he has published thirty-two compositions with swara notation under the title Nottuswara Sahithyam but with no attribution of the European titles for the compositions, which are composed with identical European tunes. Although written by Muthuswami Dikshshitar in the late 18th century when he visited Madras along with his father in his teens, before he started to compare kriti compositions, the first publication of Nottuswara Sahithya with notation came only sixty years after his passing in the publication of A.M. Chinnaswami Mudaliar in 1893. After this, Subbarama Dikshitar, the adopted son of Baluswami Diksihtar, published it in his Prathamabhyasa Pusthakamu in 1905. Later there were a few more publications with notation. Studying these two early main sources and other secondary sources, one finds that it is only published in swara notation and the singing style taught to students is not in Western style but only in the style of Carnatic music, as composed with the scale of Sankarabharanam without any microtonal ornamentation. It stands as a simple song for beginners to acquaint them with melodic movements or phrases in the scale. These compositions are not sung in performances at any time as they lack aesthetic appeal. A study of the melodic content of the European airs in those composition shows that a few melodies are reels and jigs from Irish folk tunes, since in the Western band at the Collector’s Office there were Irish musicians at that time. As already mentioned briefly, the titles of the European airs for the lyrics were first mentioned in the manuscript presented by one Ruppaiah to Mr Brown in 1833, who was then the Collector of Madras and who had requested Muthuswami Dikshitar to compose for a few Western airs. The manuscript which is in Telugu, names these compositions as Jathiswaramulu. The reason to refer to them thus may be that the music consisted of swara
34 Western Influence on Indian Music passages and set to tala, as used for Bharatanatyam dance accompaniment. Since the Nottuswara Sahithya compositions mainly adopted the tunes of folk dances, the author might have given this name, Jathiswaramulu. The title Jatiswaramulu raises the question as to whether the composer composed only the notes and later the Sanskrit text was added by the composer himself or by his father who was also a composer. Subbarama Dikshtar who is the grandson of the composer’s brother first termed the compositions as Nottuswara Sahithya in his work in 1905. The text of the compositions is mostly syllabic and more like rhyme. They are simple, for children to learn easily. As with any other music composition, this form also consists of devotional pieces on different Hindu deities. There are some changes from the original European melodies and the melodies of Nottuswara Sahithyam compositions in European airs, for example the one in Castilian mode, a folk tune that was transcribed by Benjamin Carr (1768-1831). In his book, the composition appears notated in 3/8 meter (Carr’s musical miscellany in occasional numbers, 1812). The song in Lord McDonald’s reel, Jagadeesa Guruguha, has two sections. The original A and B lines are switched with an additional word to pick up to the first beat of the song. One finds that these compositions are not a homogenous collection of British airs but there is diversity in their melodic content from the original tunes. These earlier compositions of Muthuswami Dikshitar also throws light on his mastery in synthesizing two different music cultures. In his later excellent kriti compositions too, he has synthesized the use of Hindustani raga-s, and he used the Hindustani dhrupad format in Carnatic music compositions. His compositional attitude in worshipping the different deities at different shrines are also revealed in his Nottuswara Sahithya-s. The choice of the Sanskrit language for these compositions reveals his spirit of national integration. One can say that Muthuswami Dikshitar’s contribution of the intercultural musical form, the Nottuswara Sahithya, to the world of music in the early 19th Century, is unsurpassed. The concept of interculturalism is found in all musics of the world and Indian music is no exception.
35 Music and Change Shawm Playing in Bhaktapur Nepal Simonne Bailey
Introduction
Bhaktapur, known as the city of devotees in the language of the indigenous people the Newars, sits in the east of Nepal’s Kathmandu Valley, 20 kilometres from the capital. It was once the seat of one of the Malla kingdoms which were conquered by Ghurkha invasion as part of the creation of the modern Nepali state in the late eighteenth century. The people of this city were until recently almost all of Newar decent and it was during the 500 years of Malla rule that their elaborate culture of the arts was established and blossomed. Shawms, the subject of this paper, were added possibly only a hundred years before the demise of the Malla dynasty but nevertheless they became an intrinsic ingredient, enriching the musical kaleidoscope of Newar culture and religious devotion. Shawms in Newar musical practise are generally viewed as accompanying instruments for drums. They are played by professional Newar caste musicians for several different genres of music and with musical groups throughout the city of Bhaktapur. The musical groups which hire them are not regarded as professional musicians and come from other strata of society. Kathmandu no longer has active shawm players from this Newar caste, true they can be seen at the Indra Jatra festival for instance but these men come from Bhaktapur, just as the players at the major Hindu shrine of Pashupatinath come from the town of Thimi, part of Bhaktapur district. In addition, a fragile population of surviving players exists, scattered thinly across the settlements of the Valley. The diasporas of Newars pocketed throughout Nepal do not have shawm players from their own musician caste. Players in the Bhaktapur district are disappearing as the elderly retire and few new faces take their place, giving very real meaning to the prospect of change in this discipline. My notion on change is that traditional music in Bhaktapur and elsewhere goes through a process of, at times, imperceptible modification and keeps on changing as part of a process of cultural evolution, with certain periods seeing a more rapid expression of the process. Since Nepal embraced the outside world in the second half of the 20th century, change has accelerated in most aspects of life, as society tries to emulate outside cultures often
36 Music and Change perceived as better, more progressive or affluent. Ethnomusicologists may see this change as the end of tradition but new music and cultural norms replace old practise, regardless of whether scholars admire the new society. For those of us who have been privileged to enjoy some of the rich traditions of the “old” music in Bhaktapur, it is heartbreaking to see the demise of complex and beautiful playing and singing practices, not least the death of shawm playing in its customary form. Music is only a part of the cultural change and cannot be kept in isolation and preserved as it was; the people involved are reinventing themselves. Traditional forms can to some extent be preserved and frozen in time as “performance events” but the very nature of performance brings about change in the music, the players and the playing occasions. The subject of change in this article is from the perspective of a shawm player in Bhaktapur where I have participated in this music since 2004. People who play shawms in this society, myself included, often play band instruments (clarinet and trumpet) in addition, so that some of the changes of the shawm world Photo 1: Three Gujarati Mvali during a playing overlap to include these band occasion (Photo: Simonne Bailey). groups. In examining change in terms of shawm music in Bhaktapur I look at playing practises and how they have developed or deteriorated over time. First a look at the music, the tunes that we play, the unnoticed melodies where change is manifest in every rendition. Change that can be continuous, permanent, cyclic or merely lasting for the moment of sound.
Changes in Tunes
Shawms in Newar traditional music as played in Bhaktapur are used as the melody producing element of an ensemble. As the doyen of drumming
37 Simonne Bailey traditions in Bhaktapur, Gert-Matthias Wegner has documented the musical groups in the city and way that compositions and skills are passed on through an apprenticeship model of training (Wegner 1986: 20). During the instruction period drumming patterns and compositions are transmitted via three separate mechanisms: firstly through memorisation and repetition of mnemonics which mimic the sound of the drum and the strokes required for a particular composition; demonstration by the master where both sound and sight are utilised to convey the actions necessary to produce a particular stroke or drumming pattern; thirdly, physical manipulation of the apprentices’ arms and hands in the correct movements may take place. Students are coached through oral, aural, visual and physical methods. Shawm players instruction is primarily aural, that is, relying on the imitation of a tune first played by the master. There is limited use of vision but it is not easy to rely on this method when learning because it is often difficult to discern clearly which fingers are being demonstrated, particularly with elderly arthritic players. Traditional instruction takes place principally by first learning to sound the instrument and gaining familiarity with its tones and then memorising the tune, in an aural tradition. It is interesting to note here that the tunes were customarily demonstrated as a whole item, not built up in short phrases. Would it be reasonable to imagine that over hundreds of years this aural tradition, where tunes are never written down and do not use any learning aids such as mnemonics, remain exactly the same melodies as the ones they started out as? One of the most skilled drummers in the city, a man in his seventies with a clear mind and good memory, relates how he was taught the repertory of the nine drum ensemble like most boys as a teenager but unlike most he learnt in a different part of the city, not his own neighbourhood. After his apprenticeship he took this knowledge and honed his skills to play for the next sixty years for a group in his home location. Each New Year festival he comes to listen to the group which has descended from the teacher he learnt with sixty years ago. Every year he tells me how different the compositions are in this place even though the master drummer there is a man of similar age and learnt at a similar time and from the same teacher as he did. The differences he tells me are even more marked in a third area of the city where this genre of nine drums is played. So called “fixed compositions” have changed over the period of time even in the minds of three masters of drumming. As shawm players with all of these groups we too detect real contrasts between them. Tunes played on shawms change in
38 Music and Change the same way with a number of additional elements particular to this playing genre. Apart from basic structure, number of sections and shape or phrasing which enables a melody to fit within a particular drumming composition, there are almost no fixed features to a tune and a melody can manifest itself on a different occasion to be barely recognisable. Several times I have imagined we played a new tune whilst we were accompanying a ritual and on asking the name, realise it is one already known to me but in a changed form. These changes can take place in particular when the shawm group is led by a musician who has learnt from a different line of teachers or played all his life mostly for different employing client groups. Further evidence of this comes when we listen to the tunes played by musicians from the neighbouring towns of Thimi or Dhulikel. These are the same melodies with similar names but with marked differences to those played in Bhaktapur city. Most importantly almost all tunes played by shawms are not exclusive to their use but are used by any melodic instruments, nowadays this includes guitars, vocalists and electronic instruments. Completely new versions occur when a tune is taken up and popularised through the media or rewritten for recording and then returns as a reincarnation to be played by shawm. Frequently traditional tunes are adapted by the popular film industry and the new versions become part of the shawm repertoire alongside the old, often passed on through work with “silver” wedding bands and back to shawm. The notation in the example (on the next page) shows a case where a traditional tune was revamped by the popular media and made its way back into the shawm playing repertoire in a new form. Example 1 is the traditional version of a tune which had fallen out of use but was still retained in memory, meanwhile other melodies had been selected to fit with this drumming composition. Example 2 shows the contemporary version of the same tune re-introduced into the shawm repertoire. Change took place when a group giving staged performances wanted this melody for their
39 Simonne Bailey
Example of a traditional tune, revamped by popular media into a contemporary version and returned once again into the shawm playing repertoire.
proposed tour and chose to use an updated popular version. The shawm players in the group were unfamiliar with the revamped version and so the drummers passed it on to them having learnt the tune from a popular recording. Later in a traditional neighbourhood playing situation one of the drummers from the performance group demanded that this melody accompany his processional playing and it was played in its traditional form for several days. One of the performance group shawm players joined the ensemble briefly for a procession and interpolated the contemporary version of the melody which was picked up by the others and adopted on subsequent occasions with this drummer. Later in a different work situation the traditional tune which had not been used for several years was reclaimed as part of the repertoire again. This demonstrates not only how an old tune
40 Music and Change can be revived and a new version introduced but how the media or other instruments can take a tune and change it in some cases, almost unrecognizably. The example introduces a further new phenomenon in playing practise to which I will return in the next section, the proscribing of a tune by the client drummer(s) to the extent of introducing a new non- traditional version. Shawm melodies played as accompaniment in this tradition form a more or less continuous background to the featured percussion sound and are usually short and relatively simple. Drumming compositions typically last from between 5 to 15 minutes whilst the main or most repeated section of most tunes takes only between 10 to 20 seconds to play. Taking a median of these figures, the tune is repeated approximately 40 times over the duration of one composition. Add to this the fact that tempo tends to increase as the composition progresses, even more repetition occurs. There is normally a second or even a third part of a melody which is repeated only occasionally but these secondary sections tend to be even shorter than the main one. During procession or on occasions where two drums alternate in the playing of a composition, its duration can be as much as 35 minutes, meaning the melody is repeated roughly a gruelling 140 times. In a tongue twister where the same phrase is repeated again and again, faster and faster, it is almost impossible to retain the words clearly with identical speech patterns. I would suggest we do a lot better than most players of word games but cannot deny some change does occur. All the same, just as the tongue twister enunciation reverts to the original when the game restarts, so tunes change back to their original the next time they are played; the original which is embedded in the memory of the musician. Change occurs but is not necessarily permanent.
Elements That Can Cause Temporary Change Each Time a Tune Is Used
• Tempo • Ornamentation • Introduction, start • Finishing place, end of composition • Joining sections • Part of the tune inserted between repeats • Playing of secondary or additional sections of a tune and repeats • Pitch • Duration of notes in relation to each other and pauses 41 Simonne Bailey
• Duration of playing time, number of repeats • Selection of tunes in linked compositions • “Tails” shortened and dropped • Introduction of half time • Volume of sound Each time a tune is performed with a drum it is different, with a variety of temporary changes possible. There is no fixed tempo for any tune, it depends on the drummer who customarily makes the first few beats alone unless the composition begins with a rag on shawm. Roughly speaking a tune increases in speed during a drumming composition. Within the period of the composition tempo varies for slower drumming patterns and when the second or subsequent sections of the melody are played. Ornamentation can be added or dropped during the playing of a piece, as a technique to synchronise to the drum as well as being particular to playing style, making idiosyncratic playing typical. Tunes can start in changeable places or have an introductory starting phrase that is not played on subsequent repeats, changing the initial sound of the tune. The end of the composition is dependent on the drummer and shawms customarily stop mid tune as the drum ceases with no control over the ending or resolution of their tune. Some tunes include joining sections only used by particular masters. Similarly, especially during procession, the lead shawm player may insert half or a few phrases of the tune between repeats to adjust to the drummers. The second section of a tune may be played through twice or only once, introduced once during the whole composition or even left out completely, depending on the whim of drummer and the drumming patterns selected within a composition. Other tunes may have two or three or even four secondary sections which may or may not be included in every rendition, making each drumming performance distinct with regard to melody. The pitch of some tunes can be varied with different players or even on the request of the employing master, who may for instance feel a higher pitch during procession is more audible. The duration of individual notes in relation to each other and to breathing places are not fixed and change on different occasions although the tune and phrasing as a whole must fit into the drumming structure. The length of the playing time is dependant on the drummer, how many patterns he includes and how many repeats he makes in his composition, making the event as a whole different each time. Occasionally during a very long processional composition a master may switch to a fresh tune to take physical strain from the players, making a change in the sound as
42 Music and Change a whole. Some drumming compositions are made up of linked pieces switching to a new time structure completely where the shawm players have a choice of new tunes. This element of choice means that the linked composition as a whole does not necessarily sound the same every time it is played. Some changes which occur during the repeated playing cycles of a tune are built into the structure of the melody. In practise these elements obey no hard and fast rules, so that the melody cannot be said to be composed to change in an identical manner each time a composition progresses. Each performance is unique so that it can be said to temporarily change the tune. Examples of built in elements of change occur in tunes which end in a repeated tail section. As the tempo of the tune increases first the repeat will be dropped and eventually the whole tail, thus shortening the tune to fit with the drummer. When drumming becomes frenetic the accompanying tune can slow down to half time to save the tune from becoming completely lost. This last example can typically take place during a procession with drums and band instruments: clarinet and trumpet. The master on clarinet will switch the time and as the trumpets repeat the phrase they will follow suit with the new temporarily changed tune keeping half pace with the drums. When the drummers change their pace or a different drum takes over the accompaniment reverts to synchronise with the percussion. Dynamics are not part of the discipline of playing shawm in Nepal. Loud equals proficiency, so that the volume varies according to the skill of the individual player, his health, the condition and size of his reed, his instrument and how many hours he has been playing. Local myth has it that the more players imbibe alcoholic beverages the better, and therefore louder, they will play and to this end they are frequently plied with drinks at all times of day. Within a melody there is no conscious variation of decibels. Volume is as well dependent on the number of shawms playing at any one time and on the regime of breathing between the players. In the golden years of shawm playing I am told that there were usually at least eight instruments playing together, enabling each player to take proper breathing spaces and rest during playing but leaving the sound as a seamless melody. Nowadays we rarely play with more than three or four shawms together and often only two or even just one. I have experienced the heady thrill of playing in a company of eight shawms leaving all the energy in the world to make each
43 Simonne Bailey note perfect. This change of personnel clearly affects volume making playing occasions different. The selection of a tune is traditionally left to the lead shawm player. His choice is codified by several factors: first the composition selected by the drummer, the season of the year, the type of occasion, the time of day or the demands of a dance. Still, given a virtually endless number of melodies known to a master, there are choices within these boundaries that can cover several tunes and the player brings his experience to make an appropriate choice. All this makes each rendition of a drumming composition unique. On occasion the same composition is selected on the same drum by a second drummer but sounds quite different with a new accompanying tune. This traditional choice and variation of tune is now in a state of change where young drummers today are often only conversant with a limited number of traditional melodies so that the same tunes must be played for them on every occasion to assure their confidence. As these same drummers may only know one composition in the range for a particular drum this means that the group of tunes played for the whole occasion becomes stale and repetitive. Traditionally many of the regular duties of shawm players were commissioned acts of devotion to the gods and early morning or late night rituals might have had few humans witnesses, certainly the case when they occur today. Even in everyday events where non participants are present, little attention is usually paid to the shawms and few non musicians listen, or even know, which tune has been played on any occasion. There are exceptions to this when a request for a favourite tunes is played, especially on the occasion of a feast or when accompanying dancers require particular tunes. Non traditional groups who perform for audiences or go outside traditional playing occasions are now demanding certain tunes be played rather than leaving choice to shawm players, such as in Example 2. This changes the profile of the portfolio of tunes used, as these performance drummers tend to demand newer more lively versions of tunes, selected without regard to season or other customary deciding factors and choose what they feel will appeal to their audience. In addition, with a modicum of exposure to other musics they sometimes add in features such as dynamics, changes in pitch, or a plan of the tempo and duration of performance. This can mean the shawm players are required to learn a new version of a tune on the demand of the performance group or use a new style to suit these
44 Music and Change clients wishes. It also means the resulting more polished performance lacks original spontaneity.
Shawm Playing Practice and Change
Players of shawms are said to have appeared in the Kathmandu valley from Western India during the reign of the Malla kings, scholars date their arrival to the late seventeenth century (Wegner 2011: 91). David Gellner says that their family name Kapali, has a historical link with Kapalika ascetics who wandered through India in the first millennium (Gellner 1999: 278). Neils Gutschow and Alex Michaels (Gutschow & Michaels 2005: 50) in writing on death rituals in Bhaktapur, mention dedicatory inscriptions on religious buildings in the city dating from the early seventeenth century detailing shawm players duties and remuneration. Richard Widdess has further postulated that perhaps earlier these musicians played conch and animal horns before their evolution into shawm players (verbal communication).
Photo 2: Accompanying Pachima on Gujarati Mvali during a political rally (Photo: Simonne Bailey). According to players in Bhaktapur it is supposed that the instruments they use come from more than one source. In the twenty-first century change has meant that the straight shawm, Gujarati Mvali is the one that is played almost exclusively and as its name indicates it is thought to have come with the players from the Indian state of Gujarat. Its body and bell are remarkably
45 Simonne Bailey similar to the north Indian Sahanai although the reed is rather larger, there is no ventral thumb hole, circular breathing is not employed and playing practise is less sophisticated. Christian Schneider in his article on shawms in the Kathmandu valley says that circular breathing was once employed as evidenced by the lip disc used by most musicians but present day players have no knowledge of this history and attribute the disc to optional protection for the teeth and mouth (Schneider 1999: 79). The curved shawm Puja Mvali, once in regular use but now only occasionally played in Bhaktapur, is thought by players to be Nepali in origin, like the Sahanai of the Nepali Damai musicians. There are five or more straight shawms of varying sizes and at least two of the older curved variety, some of these instruments were used for melody and others to provide a drone, (Schneider mentions and photographs four straight shawms but my colleagues identify the ones here as only three distinct instruments). Ambiguity arises from the fact that there are non standard examples of instruments that I am assured by players do not constitute a new category of instrument or a new application but are merely different sizes or materials. This demonstrates how instruments are individual and how they have been adapted and have evolved for the particular use they are put to or even to suit the finances or resources of the player. Even standard Gujarati can be made of different woods and decorated in idiosyncratic style. Nowadays it would be difficult for an aspiring shawm player to obtain an instrument other than a Gujarati unless it was inherited. Even with Gujarati, original instruments are not easy to locate and although new instruments can be made they tend to be of unplayable quality and made from inferior wood. Most of the old instruments have disappeared from the city, either broken, rotted away, sold to tourists and others laying mute in various organology collections around the world. In 2010 I completed a measurement survey of all existing known Gujarati Mvali in Bhaktapur and could only reach a dismal total of 30 including those in a broken condition. Of these 32, 5 are in a show case at Kathmandu University, and several lie stored in households. Instruments that are played can be traced back several generations and two of those documented bear inscriptions dating to the early nineteenth century. Players claim that their shawms belonged to their grandfather’s grandfather or as far as can be remembered. My survey of Gujarati Mvali showed no significant variations in the dimensions or construction of the instruments.
46 Music and Change Curved shawms are rarely used nowadays in Bhaktapur changing the nature of playing in the city. Players are reluctant to play the Puja Mvali, formerly used as the melody instrument at many important religious and life cycle rituals. During August 2010 after repeated request we did use them on three or four occasions but stopped as soon as the clients ceased their insistence. It seems inevitable that the playing of this instrument will die out in Bhaktapur except for tourist or performance programmes. Certain tunes written to be played on Puja Mvali change in nature when played on straight shawm because of the absence of a dorsal thumb hole on the latter. These tunes used in rituals are quite unique compared with other tunes used in that they are not played by other melodic genres of instrument. The second curved shawm has disappeared from use as it function was as a drone instrument used with the Puja Mvali. Scholars appear to couple the low caste status of the players with their reluctance to play curved shawms and thus be identified with this symbol of their caste profession. Although there is validity in this I feel it is over simplistic as the sole contributory factor to the demise of a traditional culture. Research seems all too ready to attribute any changes within shawm playing tradition simply to the low caste stigma perceived to be felt by players, rather than looking at change as part of a new social and cultural environment. Societal evolution as a whole has changed caste professions in every way; education, choice, mobility both economic and physical as well as exposure to wider possibilities, to list but a few examples. Several straight shawms have disappeared from the musical scene in the city but here I think the reasons might be easier to pin down. One, a drone, is almost extinct with to my knowledge possibly only three remaining examples in Bhaktapur, two behind glass in Kathmandu University. These instruments were played in shawm ensembles that no longer exist in their original form and with the reduction in the number of musicians and in appropriate work, they have been dropped from the ensembles along with several metal natural trumpets once used by shawm players in their temple ensemble. The second small straight shawm was used at weddings and for some ceremonial occasions. As the tunes played by this instrument are no longer required and shawms are no longer engaged for weddings, this example too has dropped out of use. I have only found one example of a forth, a very small straight shawm which was played I am told with two softer sounding drums which require a less noisy accompaniment. Hitherto I had been told these drums
47 Simonne Bailey were accompanied by small bamboo or wooden fipple flutes but another small instrument with six holes, has been named as a shawm alternative to these which for some reason was unpopular or fell out of use. Could it have been an innovation that never took off? I have come into contact with other small straight shawms from the other side of the Kathmandu Valley, both bearing dorsal thumb holes and whose function seems to have been forgotten by current players. It is likely that further research could reveal other variations which are no longer used. Evolution or change has taken the shawm playing families from India to Nepal, from possibly playing conch and natural horn trumpets to curved and straight shawms. It has seen the demise of groups of players going out every morning and evening to play in temples in groups of eight to twelve players to play on shawms with tunes that today are rarely if ever heard by outsiders but which are not yet quite forgotten by players. It has seen decline in the employment of shawm players by the major temples of the city and by groups of drummers whose numbers are also in decline. This has been attributed to the disappearance of traditional forms of funding through income producing land legacies, donated by wealthy citizens for the continuance of musical and ritual activities, which were appropriated by the state in 1963 with the creation of government offices to take care of town rituals (Wegner 2011: 90). Payment to shawm players has evolved from ancient agreements providing annual amounts of grain, to unrealistically low cash payments. The demise of shawm playing goes hand in hand with the disappearance of drumming groups. Market forces such as a money economy, greater expectations and materialism, turn players to seek other employment with only a few mostly older men playing within the community. Paid employment with regular hours does not combine happily with taking a day off to play for a ritual. Old shawm players have however told me that professional musicianship was never enough to support families and other employment supplemented income. Often this was tailoring and the traditional tasks of cleaning the temple but other work was taken as well. In the few years that I have been a shawm player I have witnessed a reduction in requests to play for life cycle and religious events. Remaining requests tend to come from groups of older individuals who cling to a traditional past and have the time to indulge in it. We are kept busy only because of the dwindling number of players. Families often request
48 Music and Change drumming or flute groups from their own neighbourhood to accompany rituals Most young people even if they have the time to spend all day attending a ritual event do not relish the sound of shawms and several of these events now use drums not requiring shawm accompaniment, “brass” bands or in other cases no musical accompaniment at all. In such cases the music that might have once been played by percussion and shawm or different drums may be supplied by electronic means when required for the party. Members of the public, particularly young people, stuff fingers in their ears, snigger and look away as we play in the streets instead of being proud of their cultural heritage. Young people and children increasingly ask me what instrument I am playing when we bring out our shawms, they have no idea of its name or its tradition. The evolution of shawm playing is not only the paring away of instruments and playing groups that I have described above but along the way there have been developments into other genres of playing. Early in the twentieth century the high caste Buddhist groups of the Kathmandu Valley choose to dispense with shawms to accompany their drumming groups during the Buddhist processional month. Like the army and police they modernised, copying their Indian neighbour and began using western valve trumpets and clarinet. These instruments were played by the same professional musicians who had played shawm for them. The men brought with them the same tunes that they had used on shawm and used their experience to fit the new instruments to the drums. Naturally pitch had to be adapted to the b flat instruments and modifications which demonstrated the versatility of the new fashion crept into the tunes. Today these Buddhist groups still use trumpets and clarinet but sometimes now with additional change. The Newar shawm players they once employed to play for them are now scarce or too old to perform in the rigours of long daily processions around the city, often getting soaked to the skin in this monsoon month. The drummers perforce turn to other Nepali band players for assistance with the result that these men bring with them new changes to the tunes, often new tunes because they are unfamiliar with the traditional local religious melodies. These men can be Newar caste musicians from the villages around the city or other Nepali musicians such as Damai. They are players in wedding bands, used to playing popular Nepali or Hindi tunes with altogether different rhythms which they seem unable to relinquish and which bring in more changes.
49 Simonne Bailey Within living memory shawm music was heard at weddings in the valley. There were special tunes to be played in the early morning on the way to fetch the bride from her home and a groups of eight or more players with shawms of different types playing. During the 1960s this began to change and today only band music is heard at a wedding if indeed there is live music. The bands that superseded shawms consisted of clarinet, tuba, and cornets with drums, shakers and cymbals. Later cornets were replaced by trumpets and sometimes saxophone was introduced as different instruments from India became available on the market. The original players in these bands in Bhaktapur were the same men as those who played shawm, Newar musician caste professionals. As other citizens noticed the money to be made from band playing, groups of farmers employed the shawm players to teach them instruments. For a while during the seventies and eighties there were five or six bands made up entirely of farmers as well as those staffed by caste musicians. Today there are no farmers bands in the city and none where professional Newar musician families play; the Bhaktapur owned wedding bands are now entirely made up from other professional caste Nepali musicians the Damai. Frequently today the music that can be heard during evening wedding parties is international and Nepali pop music from compact discs broadcast over an electronic system, although bands can still be heard in the wedding procession. These silver bands have seen marked increase on the occasion of the festival for the dead, Gai Jatra, which takes place in August. Traditionally Newar drums of a particular genre or other traditional groups were employed by families for procession on this day but this has now diversified into several different types of drumming groups and in the case of more middle class families, silver bands. Further evolution or refinement has taken place in the silver bands on this occasion with the advent of an accompanying pick-up truck complete with vocalist and public address system. Of the four ensembles within the city that play a group of nine drums originally accompanied by professional shawm players, one now uses a traditional transverse flute ensemble drawn from their own community to play melody. This group felt self reliance and thrift preferable to paying outsiders on shawm. Other groups talk of making this same change but whether they will manage to do this before the drumming groups themselves disappear remains to be seen.
50 Music and Change The Future of Shawm Playing in Bhaktapur
I do not believe shawm playing will disappear entirely from the Kathmandu Valley. There is too much to loose in economic terms to allow “quaint” or traditional forms to become erased and Nepal is aware of the rewards of tourism. Tourism and performance by groups of international repute, will I believe take the place of temple and private employment. One important function of the shawm player within Newar society is the accompaniment of dance groups. These dance groups are in demand for international festivals, to play at tourist events, to promote tourism and to play for performance during festivals in different parts of the valley. Kathmandu University whose Department of music is situated in Bhaktapur, sponsors a performance group of drummers and uses shawm accompaniment for some of its productions. There are new patrons, political parties, protestors and civic events, all demanding processional accompaniment. There is new fusion music rearing its head and a reinvention of traditional drumming forms such as batteries of drums to be played by one drummer and accompanied by shawm, or drums which do not traditionally use a melodic accompaniment adding one in. These new forms of employment for the shawm will bring with them a change in playing practise and in repertoire. Performance playing is not the same as traditional playing as is demonstrated by its more organised and fixed nature. Playing duration, particularly in outside events is often timed, music is frequently amplified, performance is for an audience, for human rather than divine ears, participants may sit on a stage often wearing sanitised “traditional” dress, using pre-rehearsed movements and proscribed seating arrangements. Rehearsal means a more polished non traditional presentation where the tunes are decided in advance as well as the forms of these tunes and the patterns used by the drummers. No sudden change of personnel, age band restrictions and defiantly no surprise pitch. The drummers of these groups may order the tunes to be played as was demonstrated in the example with frequently no regard to customary selection methods. During recording sessions there is frequently a rough discussion of tempo in advance and Western influenced style of dynamics introduced. The tunes selected often show the influence of modern media or traditional tunes that have been adopted or adapted in popular arrangements. The result is a different sound, polished and modulated, acceptable to modern ears and international consumption; one that can be recorded, packaged, exported, duplicated, taught and even written down. This
51 Simonne Bailey new taught, written and recorded form of traditional music can be passed on to any group as the new future in the name of music education. The new metamorphosis of traditional playing has no connection with the long companionable hours spent in religious ritual, the endless discussion and reminiscence, the request for a tune accompanied by a joyful impromptu dance and a sense of community through music which has been played in this manner for centuries. It constitutes a form of evolution of music in the city with hopefully a place still remaining for the shawm.
References 1. Gellner, David 1999. Contested Hierarchies: A Collaborative Ethnography of Caste among the Newars of the Kathmandu Valley, Nepal, edited by David Gellner and Declan Quigley. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1999. 2. Gutschow, Niels and Axel Michaels 2005. Handling Death: The Dynamics of Death and Ancestor Rituals Among the Newars of Bhaktapur, Nepal. Wies- baden: Harrassowitz Verlag. 3. Schneider, Christian 1999. “Shawms played by Tailor-Musicians of the Kathmandu Valley,” in The Double Reed 22/1. 4. Wegner, Gert-Matthias 1986. The Dhimaybaja of Bhaktapur - Studies in Newar Drumming I. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner. 5. Wegner, Gert-Matthias 1987. “Navadapha of Bhaktapur - Repertoire and Performance of the Ten Drums,” in N. Gutschow and A. Michaels (eds.), Nepalica 4/22. St. Augustin. 6. Wegner, Gert-Matthias 2011. “The town as a musical score,” in Himal 24/ 1.
52 Cultural Evolution A Case Study of Indian Music1 Wim van der Meer
This paper studies the relations between music, culture and the society which surrounds it, focussing on change as an evolutionary process. The classical music of North India serves as an example, but a similar approach may be applied to other branches of human culture, e.g. science.
Evolution and change
The complications involved in a study of social or cultural change can be realised if we see the vast amount of different and often contradictory theories about the phenomenon. Percy S. Cohen, after summarising a number of these theories, comes to the conclusion that there is no single theory which can explain social change: “Social systems can provide many sources of change” (1968: 204). This confusion is mainly due to the conceptual difficulties involved in the idea of change. Change is related to continuity, it describes a divergence from what we would normally consider non-change. Frederick Barth makes this clear when he says: “For every analysis [of change] it is therefore necessary for us to make explicit our assertions about the nature of continuity” (1967: 665). Change is irreversibly connected to the progression of time. Hence we can only distinguish between degrees of change, which we have to relate to a fictive projection of what continuity is. This appears also from Cohen's suggestion that we should distinguish between minor changes (which he considers part of persistence)
1 This article was originally published in Sangeet Natak, Journal of the Sangeet Natak Akademi, New Delhi, Vol. 35, Jan-Mar. 1975, p. 49-65. Apart from the fact that this issue is not easily found, it must also be added that the editor had not sent the text for proofreading nor had she done any checking herself. As a result (and also because of the then prevalent system of typesetting), the article was virtually unintelligible because of its typographical errors. I have maintained the same page division and numbering but also included a few observations in footnotes. The research on which this article is based has been made possible by the Netherlands Ministry of Eduction (1970-1972) and the Netherlands Organization for the Advancement of Pure Research (1973-1975). During my fieldwork I has much guidance from Dr. André Béteille of the Delhi School of Economics. Prof. Dr. Jeremy Boissevain helped me in writing the article. A. Ipenburg and J. Bor gave many valuable suggestions. If I know anything about Indian music it is thanks to Pt. Dilip Chandra Vedi, my teacher of Hindustani classical vocal music. 53 Wim van der Meer and fundamental changes (which are genuine changes of the system) (1968: 175-8).2 A classical and powerful idea concerning change is that of evolution. It is a comprehensive way of understanding change, which has been neatly summed up by Robert A. Nisbet. In social evolutionism change is seen as natural, directional, immanent, continuous, necessary and proceeding from uniform causes (Nisbet 1969: 166-188). That change is natural and necessary we may accept as a premiss. The other points are subject of much controversy in scientific enquiry. The immanence of change, i.e. the idea that it is contained within an entity (e.g. a society), has been disputed by the “diffusionists”, who consider it the greatest weakness in social evolutionism. Continuity and discontinuity in change have recently been integrated into an evolutionary perspective by W.P. Wertheim, who considers revolution a specific variety of evolution (1971) [see english ed]. Direction was the main interest of the 19th century evolutionists, whereas the causes, or mechanism have received some attention from the “neo-evolutionists”, like White and Steward (Nisbet 1969: 226). In biology evolutionary thinking has concentrated strongly on mechanisms, and I suggest that in social science a model can be built on simple parallels to the biological view. Some biologists have hinted in this direction (see e.g. Waddington 1960; Huxley 1947), but in social science the model has been strongly neglected, due to various faulty applications that have led to great misunderstanding. The first problem is that we must make clear on which level we study evolution. The idea is, I think for social science as much as for biology, that evolution is found at all levels. Life evolves, a species evolves, organs evolve. Similarly, society evolves, sub-cultures evolve, aspects of culture evolve. The second problem is the application of the selection hypothesis in social studies. The concept of survival of the fittest has been applied to human beings - resulting in the idea of “to hell with the hindmost” (see e.g. Hofstadter on Spencer 1955: 40-41).
2 Comment from the author in 2010: John Blacking followed exactly the same distinction in his 1977 article on musical change: Blacking, John, Some Problems of Theory and Method in the Study of Musical Change.Yearbook of the International Folk Music Council, 1977, Vol. 9, 1- 26. 54 Cultural Evolution In the third place, the selection hypothesis or, in its more refined form, the ideas of ecological pressure and adaptation, has not been linked up with a model of “cultural genetics”, and variation and mutation therein. Julian Steward's work (1955) for instance concentrates on adaptation to the environment. However no-where is the actual process of adaptation shown by him, only the adapted state. Fourth, we must be fully aware that evolution as a long-term process, in which we mainly concentrate on direction, cannot be really proved or disproved, since our knowledge of the past is often far too scanty. On the other hand the study of mechanisms is micro-sociological, and derives from detailed observations of processes on short term. To link up the mechanistic approach with a directional view is very difficult, in sociology as much as in biology. The search for uniform causes in cultural change can however give insight into the meaning of direction in evolution, which otherwise, is little more than an outline of history. Fifth, it is thought that not all processes are evolution. Particularly the idea of direction in evolution means that some scientists have equated evolution with those processes that go into the direction they see in evolution. Other processes are then seen as degeneration or regression. However I suggest that all processes in culture can be studied from an evolutionary point of view. That which is called degeneration is a specific variety of evolution. The question is: How do we see processes as evolution, not: Which processes do we call evolution. In the subsequent parts of this paper I shall give a brief outline of an evolutionary model for the explanation of cultural change, as derived from biology. This will be illustrated by the case-study of Indian music. Next I shall try to indicate in how far this approach may be applied to aspects of culture in general. The final part is an essay to integrate the mechanistic approach and a directional view.
55 Wim van der Meer Mechanisms of Change: An Evolutionary Model 3
1. The hereditary system: Culture is transmitted through teaching, socialization, indoctrination and many more. Most views on culture describe it as social heredity. 2. Variations and mutations: Within a certain population (a cultural niche) aspects of culture are not identical in each sub-population or each person. E.g. each person has his own vocabulary and each sub-culture has its own vocabulary, which is the totality of words used by persons belonging to this sub-culture. The totality of the vocabulary of the whole language is again the sum of words used in each sub-culture. Mutations are a specific type of variation. In culture we can compare this to creation and innovation. Many innovations are purely variations, they are new combinations of existing elements. Although the nature and emergency of creations are unpredictable their role in cultural change has been stressed by several authors. Sorokin considers creativity the main factor in sociocultural change (1965: 89-90). Devaraja is of the same opinion (1963: 124-140). He sees the creative genius as the agent of progress, but compares him to an onlooker to a chess-game. The players mayor may not accept his suggestions (1963: 133). In this sense he realises the importance of the selective environment, which seems unnoticed by Sorokin. Apart from the creative element, mutations can also involve reduction, either as a conscious simplification, or through flaws in the hereditary system. 3. Selection, ecological pressure: The composition of the totality of culture or an aspect thereof is influenced by the environment, i.e. the persons using this culture. Certain creations or new combinations (variations) will suit the needs of the persons living in the cultural niche and hence bloom, other creations will disappear. The nature of ecological pressure will change when the environment itself changes. So far the model runs parallel to that of biology, however there are some major differences.
3 I have been strongly inspired by Waddington(1960). With regards to the biological model it must be noted that I donot concentrate on the statistics of populations, as is the case in mod- ern biology, which studies evolution on the level of the species (Mayr 1963:4-5).
56 Cultural Evolution A. Diffusion: A new creation can be immediately communicated. Cultural inheritance is effective at all times, not only at the moment of procreation. Lamarckism is more appropriate to culture than to biology. However it does not go against the evolutionary model. An “imported“ change can be treated as a mutation - on which again the environment will exert its pressure. B. Intent: Variation, mutation and selection in culture do not work purely by statistics. The desire to change, to solve problems and to innovate can induce variations and mutations, and can influence the nature of ecological pressure. Danielou, in an article on Indian music, rightly distinguishes between “haphazard” (statistic) and “conscious” evolution (1966: 11-15). The issue we study may be at any level. We can study the evolution of a word, of a group of words, of a structural characteristic of a language, of a dialect, of a language or even of language. Whatever issue we choose for study, we see the issue as the evolving subject and everything else as environment. For practical purposes it will be necessary to select from this total environment. In aspects of culture obviously man is the basic environment, including the other aspects of culture he represents. We must be aware that the environmental pressure on the aspect of culture we study applies to the variations and mutations within this aspect of culture i.e. it does not apply to human beings. Indeed, a human being may be the “carrier” of a variation in this aspect of culture. This variation may be more or less “fit for survival”, but it absolutely does not imply that that human being must be less “fit for survival”. In fact the discriminating mind of the human being in question must be seen as a primary environment in which the variation of culture “lives” or is discarded
The Case of Indian Music
Many authors use the word evolution, although in the rather loose sense of each stage in the history of music being conditioned by the foregoing stage (e.g. Deodhar, Sambamoorthy, Shukla (in Music East and West, 1966: 16-21; 24-38), Prajñanananda 1973: 33-130, 279-293. Very little in Indian music is really fixed, and we constantly see variation and mutation in front of our eyes. The long history of Indian music, in which it gradually unfolds from its earliest concepts into its present form makes an evolutionary view rather inevitable. A complicated and interesting theory of the evolution of r gas has been propounded by N.A. Jairazbhoy. He considers musical factors as the sole
57 Wim van der Meer cause in this evolution (1971: 179). Somehow he seems to overlook that music does not make itself. Musical modes have to be created, invented or borrowed from outside. Then they have to become accepted by their environment: the musicians and the audiences. Of course this reality can only be studied in the present which is not taken into account by Jairazbhoy (1971: 179). 3 In this paper I shall illustrate the model of evolution by the following questions: 1. What is the hereditary system for music, 2. Assuming the cultural whole to be static, a. How do variations and mutations manifest themselves in music, b. Which pressures come from the cultural whole and how do they effect variations and mutations, 3. When the cultural whole is seen in motion how does environmental change effect variations and mutations, 4. Do variations and mutations influence the environment? In my description I have restricted myself mainly to the period from about 1900 to the present. Only for this period can information be cross-checked with musicians who lived through this period. Some gramophone recordings are available for the major part of this period, which enable us to say something about developments in musical style. In much of the descriptions the above questions will be found interwoven.
3 Briefly summarised his theory is as follows: The scales or modes in Indian music are bi- centric in character due to a drone which resounds the tonic and the fourth or fifth. If the scale is e.g. our major scale (known as Bilaval) with C as the tonic, the drone, produces the C and the G. Jairazbhoy suggests that the G may also function as secondary tonic. This is the source of the asymmetry. In the major scale the ascending line (aroha) shows a symmetrical pair of tetrachords: c d e f - g a b c . C is the tonic of the first tetrachord, G of the second. In the descending line (avaroha) the tonics remain the same, resulting in: c' b a g - g f e d. Hence whereas the ascending is a symmetrical progression of intervals (1 1 ½, 1 1 ½) the descending is asymmetrical: ½ 1 1 : 1 ½ 1. To resolve this the descending tetrachords must be changed. This can be done either by lowering b flat, or by raising the f to f sharp. In the first case the descending tetrachords get an interval division of 1 ½ 1 (KHAMAJ), in the second case ½ 1 1 (YAMAN). In the newly obtained scales the ascending tetrachords are asymmetrical. In similar vein we can go on to derive a vast number of scales through various ingenious manipulations. Comment from the author in 2010: In the light of contemporary theories of memetics (from Dawkins to Van Driem), music may be considered a living organism. This would put Jairazbhoy’s theory in a very different and interesting light, accepting the possibility of autonomous change. 58 Cultural Evolution The Hereditary System and its Lapses: Mutations I
Indian music is rich in subtleties and intricacies which cannot be written down. Even in teaching from person to person some differences between teacher and pupil remains inevitable. However, in the traditional system of teaching, where a pupil was learning for 10 to 20 years with a teacher much of the knowledge and style of the teacher was transmitted. Over the past decades the relation between teacher and pupil has changed. This has resulted in a different command the younger generation has over music. In the following I describe this change and the reaction of the musical environment to it. First of all values have changed relating to the teacher-pupil relation. Traditionally the pupil is totally subjected to the teacher. The teacher is supposed to know everything and the pupil nothing. The pupil has the desire to learn music and hence is completely dependent on the teacher. The subjection to and reverence for the teacher is expressed in the touching of the teacher's feet by the pupil upon meeting and parting. The position of supreme power of the teacher is however mitigated in some cases, when the pupil has social, economic or political resources to exercise power over the teacher. This happens where the pupil comes from a family which can be considered a family of patrons of music. At present a good number of students come from the new city bourgeoisie, children from families of higher administrative personnel, doctors etc. They take the attitude of patrons of music and pay their teacher in such a way that he is dependent on them rather than the other way around. Such students usually know English and consider themselves superior to the teacher in many ways. The musical effects of this change are several. The basic teaching is not as solid. The teacher cannot easily force the pupils to practise scales for a year or two. The voice therefore becomes less powerful and tuneful. Harsh criticisms, often linked with physical punishment, is rather our of the question. This formerly ensured not only that the pupils learned music but they also learned to learn fast. At present the pupils are more relaxed, and take hours, sometimes days to learn a small piece. It is easily understood that such pupils can never acquire a fraction of the knowledge some traditional artists have. Further the pupil does not wholly accept the teachings of the teacher. He finds it more than sufficient to learn only practical items for the mass concerts, which are not as demanding as the concerts for small circles of experts in music. This last point needs some elaboration as it also explains
59 Wim van der Meer how lesser knowledge of present-day artists is accepted. Before 1900 the audience of classical music was mainly restricted to a very small group of persons from the elite. It was performed in the Royal Courts and in the houses of rich persons of.the nobility. The music performed in these circles was based on the assumption that the audience was conversant with its specific idiom. The established artists had great influence on their patrons, in the sense that they were, consulted for the judgement of promising young artists. Due to various reasons the courts could not maintain their patronage of music. Gradually over the period from about 1900 to 1950 musicians had to leave the courts and seek employment in the big cities; Bombay, Calcutta, Delhi. During this same period new opportunities emerged, the public concert, schools of music, radio and cinema. The public concert and the radio allowed a different kind of music. In the courts, the audience was small, and relatively expert. The audience of public concerts (and of course the radio) is far more indifferent, anonymous and less expert. In the courts high demands were made on the extent of knowledge of the musician - he could be asked to perform specific pieces. The modern audience does not go for intricacies but rather for such generally appreciated aspects as speed in technique, (Mukherji 1948: 150-115). Apart from the above mentioned effects these lapses in the hereditary system bring about many reductions in music; some r gas are disappearing, certain embellishments become highly rare, many compositions will not be known to the next generation, t las disappear, a whole style, the dhrupad, seems to fade away and even the future of instruments like the pakh vaj (drum) and the b n (long-necked lute) is uncertain.
Innovations: Mutations II
Indian music is dynamic in nature. It allows innovations on a number of levels. A performance means the manifestation of a r ga. Different artists have a different conception of r ga. Improvisation and innovation in t na, bandish or l p are part and parcel of Indian music. An artist who only sings known items is considered boring. However, as long as he sticks to known r gas, and stays closely in line with the traditional conception of the r gas, within a known style, improvisations and re-combinations can barely be considered full-fledged creations. In fact much of these changes are, variations in the sense that known musical material is employed in a new way. On the other hand the invention of a new r ga or a new style can more truly be called a mutation. In the following I 60 Cultural Evolution shall describe the process of invention of a new r ga and the reaction of the environment to it. The r gas have a number of characteristics, which could logically vary to re- sult in thousands of r gas. Yet only about 60 to 90 appear to have enough innate qualities to be performed regularly. There are (and have been) constantly artists who introduce a new r ga based on a change of characteristics of already existing r gas. Usually these r gas disappear into the grave with the inventor. This has led musicologists to wonder which phenomenon is at the basis of the fact that characteristics cannot be varied at free will. One of these questions concerns the notes which are used in a r ga. The fact that there are twelve semitones in the octave, and that a r ga may use four to seven of them in ascent and four to seven in descent already leads to thousands of possibilities. Dilip Chandra Vedi (b. 1901) follows an interpretation of the r ga system based on the internal harmony of notes used in the scale. It explains why a vast number of possible permutations of notes cannot be seen as practicable r gas, since it is necessary that the notes are harmonically interrelated. Vedi has invented a r ga himself.4 This r ga of course follow the rules which dominate the r ga system as he sees it. After the introduction of the r ga in 1926 there has been a lively discussion in music circles whether it should be accepted as a new r ga. Some people rejected it saying that it was only a modulation of an existing r ga. This however is irrelevant as many r gas are modulations of other r gas. Others claimed it had already existed before. Again others said it was incorrect (unspecified). It took more than ten years before the discussion stopped and the r ga was more or less accepted in music circles. The introduction of a new r ga not only attempts to establish a new scale and some characteristics. The artist must give flesh to it in the sense that he must define a way to sing the alap, he must create a bandish and he must provide layakaris and t nas. Dilip Chandra Vedi fulfilled these requirements thoroughly. Moreover he taught all these aspects of his r ga to a number of pupils who may keep the r ga alive, that is, keep it from disappearing into the grave with the creator. Another reason why this r ga has some chance of
4 This raga is called Vedi ki Lalit. It uses the following note patterns (c is tonic): c, d; e♭, g, e; e, g, a, b♭, a, g, e, e♭, d, d, e♭, e, g, a, c'; c', b♭, a, g, e, g, e, d, c, d, e♭, e, c. Lalit, a r ga with f and f#, is a modulation of Todi. So is Vedi ki lalit a modulation of Purya Kalyan and has two e's.Vedi calls it the “answer” to Lalit. 61 Wim van der Meer survival is that it has been recorded on gramophone and tape. New r gas have a certain appeal to the public. This is due to a general fascination with novelties. If an artist in a concert announces that he is going to playa new r ga, and explains the characteristics of it, the audience gets quite excited. However, the critics the day after the concert are usually harsh. More important is the fact that other musicians, the competitors and rivals of the artist who introduces the new r ga will avoid singing or playing it. This would be the same as to acknowledge their own inferiority. Moreover they will induce their pupils not to sing this new r ga. Hence only the pupils of the artist himself may learn the r ga. But even in that case the composition and other aspects belonging to that r ga will have to be very impressive or else the pupils will refrain from singing the r ga in public. Thus we see that a newly invented r ga may only get some wider acclaim several generations after the inventor. But it will take more than a century for a r ga to become known to every musician. Undoubtedly the invention of a r ga involves a matter of prestige. It shows the creative and independent ability of an artist. Moreover some artists sign their name in the r ga or the composition they have created which adds to their fame, and in a sense places them among the immortals. If we look at the amount of new r gas which have appeared during the last fifty years it would seem that creating a new r ga is n more or less natural thing to do for an accomplished artist. During the 1970s I witnessed at least fifteen new r gas being introduced at concerts in Delhi. Prom the 19th century we have ample proof showing that in that time also several great artists composed new r gas. But even before that time the composing of new r gas must have occurred regularly. The above however has shown clearly how difficult it is for a r ga to survive over a long time.
Variation in Schools and its Disappearance: Environmental Pressure
In North-Indian classical music there are two styles which are considered the most important vocal styles: Khay l and dhrupad. The khay l can probably be traced as a development from a particular variety of dhrupad, known as dham r (cf. Desai 1970: 149-50, 169). Within each style there are a number of schools which follow different interpretations of the style. In khay l these schools are called ghar n . Some ghar n s, which are usually thought of as the oldest ones (Gwalior ghar n for instance), sing the khay l in a way quite similar to the dhrupad. The word ghar n comes from ghar, meaning house,
62 Cultural Evolution both in the literal and figurative sense. In the musical context ghar n means a number of people who are musical descendants from one person and have a common style of which the principles have been laid down by the originator of the ghar n . Prom the times of Tansen, the famous musician in the court of emperor Akbar (ca. 1600 A.D.) onward the concept of vani becomes important. In one of his famous compositions Tansen stressed shuddh v ni, meaning purity of style. But it is only much later that the importance of ghar n emerges, mainly in instrumental and khay l styles of vocal music. Each of the ghar n s traces its descent to a legendary musician, often Tansen himself. The ghar n s dispute each other's purity of descent. Deshpande has tried to show that the ghar n s in khay l have evolved out of the vanis which were similar musical descents in dhrupad. His explanation is mainly musical (1963: 1-11). The exact content of the word ghar n is very different for many people. Some stress the musical essence of style, others stress kinship. Although these are theoretically unrelated variables we may see them as a cluster, which centres around discipleship in complex form. Musical style of course is very much related to discipleship, and kinship may be related to it. Especially among Muslims this was strong until very recently: music was taught only to kinsmen in a consistent way. In a ghar n a number of teacher- pupil relations are grouped into a social set. There is great variability in size of the ghar n , as well as in various other characteristics, such as cohesion, age, relation to other ghar n s and many more. In each ghar n we can discern a core of great musicians, who claim to belong to this ghar n , and who are thought by others to belong to it. Around them we can find a number of pupils (often descendants) and pupil's pupils. Sometimes artists claim to belong to a ghar n without having had any lessons from an artist considered to belong to that ghar n . The claimant simply imitates the musical style of the ghar n . Then there are musicians who have learned most of their music in one ghar n but do not consider themselves to belong to this ghar n . Sometimes they branch off and found their own ghar n , after having introduced a few innovations. Some artists have learned from several ghar n s and have mixed the musical styles. They often appear as individual artists who refuse to be counted among a ghar n . Famous artists who come from the family of a ghar n -founder usually replenish the core of the ghar n . Famous artists who are outsiders, but have learned from a great artist of a ghar n , often strike off on their own. The core of the ghar n then tries to maintain that this artist also belongs to their
63 Wim van der Meer ghar n . Unimportant artists who have learned from an artist of one of the ghar n s may seek shelter in the fame of this ghar n . An example may illus- trate the above. The Agra ghar n is a very important and big ghar n . At the end of the 18th century it was founded by Shamrang and Sarasrang, who were in fact dhrupad singers of the Nauhar vani. As a ghar n of khay l it gradually took shape in the course of the 19th century, with the disciples, descendants, grand-disciples and grand-descendants of Shamrang; Ghagghe Khuda Baksh, Sher Khan, Ghulam Abbas Khan and Kallan Khan. Natthan Khan was Sher Khan’s only son. Natthan Khan was a very important artist of Agra ghar n at the end of the 19th century. Faiyaz Khan was a grandson of Gulam Abbas Khan, who had learned most of his music from Sher Khan, his cousin. Faiyaz Khan learned from Ghulam Abbas Khan and also from Natthan Khan. Natthan Khan’s son Vilayat Hussain Khan had many pupils, among whom his son Yunus Hussain Khan. Vilayat Hussain Khan learned most of his music from his elder brother Mohammed Khan, who was Natthan’s Khan’s pupil. Natthan Khan also taught another outstanding figure in Indian music: Bhaskar Rao Bakhle. Bhaskar Rao Bakhle had learned from several other artists before he became a pupil of Natthan Khan. After having learned from Natthan Khan he entered into a peculiar relation with Alladiya Khan. The latter was a great exponent of Jaipur ghar n , They are said to have had many discussions on the intricacies of dhrupad, alap, and so on, although we may safely assume that the major in-bring was from Alladiya Khan. Bhaskar Rao Bakhle balanced the styles of Agra and Jaipur ghar n s. He also introduced several aspects of music which he had acquired from his study of the been. He rejected the: concept of ghar n , and said that every musician should learn from several ghar n s. Yet, many musicians from Agra ghar n claim that Bhaskar Rao Bakhle really belongs to Agra ghar n . Some of the weaker followers of Bhaskar Rao Bakhle say that they belong to Bakhle ghar n (this is a clear case of seeking shelter - since Bhaskar Rao Bakhle rejected the concept). Dilip Chandra Vedi learned dhrupad from Uttam Singh, a musician and musicologist of the beginning of this century. Then he learned from Bhaskar Rao Bakhle, Faiyaz Khan, and Alladiya Khan in that order. He considers Bhaskar Rao Bakhle as his true teacher whose style he prefers and like Bakhle himself, rejects the concept of ghar n . Another pupil of Bhaskar Rao was Kesar Bai Kerkar. Later on however she became a pupil of Alladiya Khan, and completely followed the latter’s style.
64 Cultural Evolution She learned for 26 years from him (Moghubai Khurdikar learned from Vilayat Hussain Khan, but more from Alladiya Khan, whose style she adopted. Apart from this, Vilayat Hussain Khan also learned a few things from Alladiya Khan (cf. Khan 1959). In the above example it becomes evident how complicated and fluctuating the structural relations between ghar n s are. It is sometimes thought that Indian music, being a traditional art, is very constant and even stagnant, at least until the present. Here we have seen that not only have ghar n s evolved over the last few centuries, but also it becomes clear how much fluctuation and variability are part of the system. Musical aspects from other ghar n s may be adopted, but also musicians in the core of it ghar n may change their music. Musicians who combine music of several ghar n s may establish their own conception of music, and add something. Yet, on a general level, the concept of ghar n is disappearing. Formerly ghar n s could be identified, and they left an imprint on the artists that emerged from them. Thus the musical resemblence between Kesar Bai Kerkar and Mogubai Kurdikar is striking. Younger artists of the same ghar n still maintain the strong characteristics of this ghar n - of which Kishori Amonkar, the daughter of Mogubai Kurdikar, is a good example. Contemporary artists from Agra ghar n , Sharafat Hussain Khan or Yunus Hussain Khan show resemblance in style with great artists from this ghar n . However, adoption of musical aspects from other ghar n s is more frequent nowadays. In the past an artist often had several teachers, but due to the strong power the teacher could exercise over the pupils there was usually one teacher who left the strongest imprint on the pupil. Today the relation is somewhat more open, and various teachers have about the same impact on a pupil. Moreover, due to the radio, public concerts, books, records, and a greater geographical mobility it has become much easier to assimilate musical aspects from other ghar n s. Finally the emergence of an urban middle class, with the related emergence of an economically defined teacher-pupil relation has diminished the emotive quality of the relation. Emotionally it is easier now to leave one teacher and go to another. On another level it would appear that among many young artists a new concept of music is emerging, on an all-India level (i.e. North India). First of all astounding technique (especially high speed) predominates as a value and to a large extent causes a diminished tunefulness. Rhythmic gimmicks and simplistic melodic progressions have gained importance. For all this little
65 Wim van der Meer musical training is demanded, only a technical training, and the audience is more susceptible to this approach, since it is not conversant with the depth of the traditional idiom.
Evolutionary Mechanisms
Any change will always have to begin with the artist. If he is confident about this change (consciously or unconsciously) he may introduce it to the wider environment, where it is either accepted or rejected. This process may be rather slow, as I suggested for the invention of new r gas. The audience at a concert may accept a new r ga, but many competing artists will usually not accept it. However if the disciples accept it, in the long run it may become part of Indian music in general. This is the point where we can say, that it has been accepted by society at large. Jairazbhoy suggests that Indian music evolves due to factors which are entirely musical, the inconsistency of scales (1971: 179). In the same way T.S. Kuhn implies an evolution in science which is the result of theoretical crises. The evolutionary vision that Kuhn handles can be summarised with the following quotations: The process described as the resolution of (scientific) revolutions is the selection by conflict within the scientific community of the fittest way to practice future science. The entire process may have occurred, as we now suppose biological evolution did, without benefit of a set goal, a permanently fixed truth, of which each stage in the development is a better exemplar... The net result ... is a wonderfully adapted set of instruments we call modern scientific knowledge. (1962: 171-172, my italics) Kuhn sees an important difference between science and art in the sense “that science has unambiguous methods of selection which decide what is progress and what is not” (1962: 159-163). This however is rather doubtful. In fact it would be true if we had “supreme knowledge”. Because of the restricted nature of human knowledge time and again theories emerge which later on prove to be incorrect. The theories of Kuhn and Jairazbhoy are in a sense evolutionary, but they do not really explain the mechanisms at work. They suggest that the process comes entirely from within. Jairazbhoy seems to believe that musical scales can develop out of other musical scales all by themselves. Kuhn is more
66 Cultural Evolution careful - he profusely brings in the enactors of the evolution. But they act only when they should on behalf of scientific progress. In other words mutations occur only when they should with the “intention” to solve a crisis. Devaraja’s view, which includes artists, philosophers, and saints as well as scientists, is similar to Kuhn’s when he says: The genius, thus, is seen to be the spokesman of ignored or overlooked reality. (1963: 127) However, he rejects the historical inevitability of the emergence of such genii to solve crises (1963: 133). I would go further than Devaraja and suggest there are mutations and variations at all times. Every human being has a different perception of reality and therefore has the potential to become a spokesman of an overlooked or ignored reality. Which of these perceptions come to be considered that of a genius depends on many circumstances. On the one hand there is the inherent quality of the perception, but on the other hand rivalries and the ethics of society play their role. In art I indicated the importance of rivalry and in science, in spite of certain ideals, we see often that vying thinkers criticise each other for the sake of it. And much of this rivalry is more based on personal antipathy than on scholarly disagreement. It is rather obvious that variation exists in science both on the level of individuals and “schools”. I wonder if any two scientists have an identical conception of such phenomena as culture, life or gravity .... Variation on this level can certainly be a source of new interpretations. The emergence of completely new theories of course is not easily understood. It depends on creativity which is quite unpredictable in nature. How, why and with what effect new ideas emerge in science or art is hard to say. But they are not coincidental. Artists most definitely, but in my opinion scientists as well, constantly try to improve and renew. Except perhaps the dull scientist or artist, who has given up the idea of bringing something new and prefers to stay under the umbrella of his “superior”. The hosts of new r gas which appear constantly in Indian music are an expression of the search for creation and invention. If both Jairazbhoy’s and my theories are correct most of these creations will be discarded in the long run, through a process of selection. But even in the distant past the process of variation, mutation and selection may have played an important role. R gas have been invented at all periods, but not all of them have persisted. In this a
67 Wim van der Meer sudden change in the environment may have played an important role. Before Tansen there must have existed hundreds of r gas. This was probably possible due to the political separation of various states in India. When at the time of emperor Akbar many musicians were brought together at the royal court it became evident that many r gas were practically identical, but existed under different names in different provinces. Tansen realised this and discarded a great number of the r gas. Of the past century we know that many r gas have disappeared. They are so-called obsolete r gas which may also be lost when the old musicians who know them die. (e.g. ancient varieties of Basant, Lalit and Purvi with shuddh dhaivat).
Direction in Evolution
I have shown that the process of evolution in music must be understood in terms of certain evolutionary mechanisms. This (mechanistic) view in no way excludes a view which identifies the broad lines or direction in the evolution. These two views become particularly compatible if we make a distinction between general and specific evolution. Specific evolution is adaptive. General evolution means greater adaptability (Sahlins and Service 1960: 12- 44). The concept of specific evolution is not too difficult to understand: it involves all types of adaptation to the environment. General evolution is a more complicated concept. I think Wertheim has given the clearest interpretation of this over-all development of mankind when he says that general evolution is a tendency towards emancipation. First of all there is an emancipation from the forces of nature, the development of the capacity not to adapt to different environments but to adapt the environment to oneself. Then there is the tendency to free man from the bonds of others, to diminish social inequality on all levels. (1971: 50-66). Music, science and other aspects of culture are valuable to man. In this I strongly support Devaraja’s view of culture as a value, i.e. a definition of the valuable or significant. (1963: 104-110). Ethnomusicologists have stressed the functional values of music, to mention a few: emotional expression, social safety valve, aesthetic enjoyment, communication, enforcement of norms, continuity of culture, integration of society (Merriam 1964: 209-229). Music can also play a role in catalysing a movement of emancipation. It can be symbolic for groups which strive towards emancipation or give general
68 Cultural Evolution expression of a protest against oppression5 (Wertheim 1971: 147-152). On the other hand music may go contrary to emancipation. It may serve as an opium for the masses (Wertheim 1971: 409). I think that Indian film-music in its present state plays this role, although not intentionally. However, I think that the greatest value in music is in its innate qualities. Music can enrich and liberate the human mind. Science provides us with similar values, in addition to a concrete contribution which science has made to our conditions of living. This provides us also with a clue for the interpretation of progress in science and the arts. Both can provide man with means to enrich his life, and general evolution in science or the arts should be seen as an evolution which does contribute in such a way. All forms of adaptation of science or the arts to a social environment which do not contribute in such a way should be viewed as a specific evolution which can ultimately be disastrous. The degrees to which Indian classical music has succeeded in providing a possibility for the liberation of the mind is astounding. I can do no better than quote some masterly passages from Ananda K. Coomaraswamy; This Indian music […] reflects an emotion and an experience which are deeper and wider and older than the emotion or wisdom of any single individual. It is in the deepest sense of the words all-human. For it is, the inner reality of things, rather than any transient or partial experience that the singer voices. We have here the sound of the tanbura which is heard before the song, and continues after it: that is the timeless Absolute, which as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. On the other hand there is the song itself which is the variety of Nature, emerging from its source and returning at the close of its cycle. The harmony of that undivided Ground with its intricate pattern is the unity of Spirit and Matter. We are assured by the experience of aesthetic contemplation that Paradise is a reality. (1971: 96-99)
5 Jazz, blues, spirituals are partly symbolic of a negro-cult with obvious emancipatory implications. Similarly “beat-music” has an important function in youth-cult. Wertheim considers emancipation of young people and important aspect of general emancipation (1971: 57-58). 69 Wim van der Meer That music has left the small compartments of the elite, is at large a form of emancipation since a greater part of mankind can benefit from it. But the reaction to this change in environment in the form of simplifications is not a step forward at all, either for music or society. It must retain its powers of a profound impact on the mind and convince the audience, rather than please the audience. This we see as one of the main characteristics of general evolution: It implies greater adaptability by adapting the environment to itself.
Conclusion
The above shows how much Indian music is alive and evolving and although some may lament the changes at least one must be happy that this art has not become inflexible, almost frozen as is the case with western classical music. In the course of the process something may be lost, but then it has been through gains and losses that Indian music has become what it is over the ages. Overspecialisation can lead to extremes, such as the dhrupad, which at present often tends to monotony in repetitious rhythmical patterns. Confronted with a new audience, that is not conversant with the the specialised idioms of the dhrupad, it has very little impact. Yet this style has immense possibilities and it will depend on the capacity of the musicians to bring it back into the mainstream of attractive melodious musk. It is an illusion that the audiences can be educated by any other way than attractive music.
References 1. Barth, Frederik, “On the Study of Social Change”, American Anthropologist 69: 661-669, 1967. 2. Coomaraswamy, Ananda K.,The Dance of Shiva, Rev. ed., New Delhi, Sagar Publications, 1971. 3. Danielou, Alain, “Conscious and Haphazard Evolution in Music”, in: Music East and West, New Delhi, Indian Council for Cultural Relations, 1966. 4. Desai, Chaitanya, “The Origin and Development of Khayal”. Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, Vol. XL: 147-1&2, 1970. 5. Deshpande, V.H., “Carl Seashore, Banis and Gharanas”, Nada Rupa, Vol. I, Part II; 1-11. Banaras Hindu University, 1963. 6. Devaraja, N.K., The Philosophy of Culture, Allahabad, Kitab Mahal Pvt. Ltd., 1963.
70 Cultural Evolution 7. Hofstadter, Richard, Social Darwinism in American Thought. Boston, Beacon Press, Rev. ed., 1955. 8. Huxley, Julien S., Evolution and Ethics, Pilot Press. 1947. 9. Jairazbhoy, Nazir A., The Rags of North Indian Music, Their Structure and Evolution, London, Faber & Paber, 1971. 10. Khan, Vilayat Hussain, Sangeetagyon ke sansmaran, Delhi, Sangeet Natak Akademi, 1959. 11. Kuhn, Thomas S., The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, University of Chicago Press. 1962. 12. Mayr, Ernest, Animal Species and Evolution, Cambridge, Balknap Press. 1963. 13. Merriam, Alan P., The Anthropology of Music, University Press. 1964. 14. Mukherjee, O.P., Modern Indian Culture, Bombay, Hind Kitabs. 1948. 15. Music East & West, I.C.C.R., Publication, New Delhi. 1966. 16. Nisbet, Robert A., Social Change and History. New York, Oxford University Press, 1969. 17. Prajñanananda, Swami, Historical Development of Indian Music, 2nd ed. Calcutta, Mukhopadhyay, 1973. 18. Sahlins, Marshal D. and Elman R. Service (eds.), Evolution and Culture, University of Michigan Press, 1960. 19. Sorokin, Pitrim A., “The Factor of Creativity in Human History” in; T.R.N. Unhithan, Indra Deva, Yogendra Singh: Towards A Sociology of Culture in lndia, New Delhi, Prentice Hall. 1965. 20. Steward, Julian H., Theory of Culture Change, Urbana, University of Illinois Press, 1955. 21. Waddington, C.H., The Ethical Animal, London, Allen & Unwin, 1960. 22. Wertheim, W.P., Evolutie en Revolutie, Amsterdam, Van Gennep, 1971. Abridged English edition: Evolution and Revolution: Rising Waves of Emancipation, Penguin Books Ltd; (January 31, 1974).
71 Cyclic Time in Indian Art Music & Creativity Subroto Roy
Abstract
Key Words: var an, creativity, Creation, cyclic, meter, sam, S m, time, torque, Ve a, iva, memory, phenomenon As opposed to the reductionist views of time which include a linear approach, the Indian is a cyclic conception of time which events follow. According to this view the super-structure of time is cyclic; tangible and intangible events keep repeating in smaller cycles. The essence of Creation at a macro level and creativity at the micro or individual level is the fact that they appear differently to us. In north Indian art music (NIAM), I propose that var an is its “cyclicity” which is responsible for creativity. The heavy demand for extempore improvisation in NIAM, forces a performer to continually view immediate past musical act and improvise based on this. In this manner, the spiral of creativity is generated. Then, at a point of time one wants to break away from this cycle just as an aeroplane leaves its runway after gaining momentum. At a very secular level, this process replicates an urge for freedom from routines in life, but one cannot value freedom without being shackled and finding a tool to gain a threshold frequency for final release. var an as a tool provides a process of observation, retention, and recall; itself is a cyclical process. At an esoteric level, in India, the timeless iva is the chief deity of time and hence He devours it. He is the Yogi (without categories/unity itself) blissful between two moments and full of potential creative energy. This situation is replicated in the sam of var an or the first beat (unity) in the cyclic meter. Sam is the pivotal aspect which is continually sought after by the artiste in an attempt to meet the Yogi sitting between moments. From this unity multiplicity is born giving birth to cyclic meter representing the infinitely diverse phenomenal world.
Hypothesis