SANGEET NATAK journal of the Akademi, is published quarterly by the Sangeet Natak Akademi (National Academy of Music, Dance and Drama for India). Printed at The Statesman Press, Connaught Circus, New .

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All enquiries to be addressed to the Editor, Sangeet Natak Akademi, Rabindra Bhavan, Ferozeshah Road, New Deihl - I sangeet natak 15 A QUARTERLY PUBLICATION ON MUSIC, DANCE AND DRAMA SANGEET NATAK AKADEMI, RABINDRA BHAVAN, NEW DELHI JANUARY-MARCH 1970 The views expressed in Sangeet Natak are the writers' own and do not necessarily conform to the opinion of the publishers. Permission to reproduce, in whole or in part, any material published in this Journal must be obtained from the Secretary, Sangeet Natak Akademi, Rabindra Bhavan, New Delhi-I

EDITORIAL BOARD Dr. V. Raghavan Mrinalini Sarabhai Dr. Lokenath Bhattacharya Mohan Rakesh

Dr. Suresh Awasthi Uma Anand: Editor Contents

5. THE AESTHETICS OF KATHAKALI Krishna Chaitanya

11. THE MUSICAL ASPECT OF KAKU Dr. Sumati Mutatkar

16. ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE RABAB Dr. Josef Kuckertz

31. THE ROLE OF PUPPETRY IN CONTEMPORARY EDUCATION Meher R. Contractor

41. THE MARATHI SANGEET Keshevrao Bhole and N. V. Joshi

Cover: Ravana leather puppet, Orissa THE AESTHETICS OF KATHAKALI

Krishna Chaitanya

Much has been written on Kathakali, the traditional dance-drama of Kerala. But a precise evaluation of the aesthetic quality of this form is, perhaps, yet to be attempted.

A form like the European opera tolerates a great number of conven­ tional devices - which destroy verisimilitude - and moves on impatiently to the confrontation which is its raison d'etre: that between the virtuosity of the singer and the alertly critical connoisseurship of the audience. In the case of forms less loaded with conventions, like the normal range of dramatic presentations, the aesthetic experience belongs to the opposite pole, that of involvement or identification. The experiences are certainly not mutually exclusive. But the typological distinction is valid: for, in listening to an operatic singer, evaluatory appreciation dominates and identification with the role he or she happens to be playing is recessive; in the response to a dramatic role, identification dominates though sensi­ bility may be unconsciously or even consciously evaluating the histrionic talent of the actor. The uniqueness of Kathakali seems to lie in the fact that it manages an unusual rapprochement of these polarities, allowing ­ actually demanding ~ sensitively critical connoisseurship of the highest order and also achieving an involvement which is more intense than usually possible in the experience of the normal range of dramatic presentations. This needs clarification.

In the music and mimesis of the European ballet, the former is instru­ mental and therefore evocative of mood rather than programmatic in a detailed way; the mimesis likewise is a large response to the rhythm and feeling of the music. The smoothly integrated flow of music and body's action thus easily develops a momentum which involves one too by empathy and sweeps one along. In Kathakali, on the other hand, there is a full- SANGEET NATAK 6

fledged verse text and the factors that constellate in the total presentation are such that they favour appraisal by taste rather than involvement in feeling. First of all, there is the separation of the roles of singing and acting. This creates a curious aesthetic situation, because the songs are supposed to be the speeches of the actor, that is, of the character whose role he is playing. What we confront therefore is not so much a character speaking and acting, an integrated personality, as a virtuoso mime who proceeds to translate the verbal text into gesture and expression. This aesthetic emphasis on presentation, as against identification, is reinforced by several factors, like the punctuation of every strophe of the song by a dance sequence and the repetition of every verse. Since, in normal speech, and in the dialogues of the normal drama, no one interrupts himself or repeats himself like this, verisimilitude is not obtained. This in itself is not a defect, since it was never sought in the first place. But the difference in the aesthetic intention should be noted. It abstains from assimilating the spectator in an identification and stimulates him to be critically alert to the mimetic performance.

The conventionalism of diction and imagery in Kathakali has generally tended to obliterate individuation of characters through their speech-style. The erotic entreaty of the hero reads very much like the lyric in which the villain makes his similar, but possibly more urgent, appeal. Typological distinctions are managed massively by the magnificent make-up and by the pattern of gross action and incident in the enacted story. There are subt­ leties in the mimed dialogue, but the dialogue itself does not reveal differen­ tial traits and the subtleties are not aimed at the revelation of character in depth.

Instrumental music can arouse feeling and mood without the media­ tion of verbal associations and the evocation is usually swift and smooth because of the direct stimulation of the sensibility. But the Kathakali has a text. Now, if language is initially a structure of denotational mean­ ings, it becomes suitable as an instrument of aesthetic communication only to the extent that it relies less and less on the hard concreteness of denota­ tion and more and more on the elusive power of connotation which Mallarme and the French Symbolists called suggestion and Ananda Var­ dhana and Abhinava Gupta in India called resonance tdltvani]. But an important feature of the Kathalali tended to pull quite in the opposite direction, towards an even harder concreteness. This was the whole system of mimetic gestures.

Now, ever since Charles Darwin studied the physiology and evolu­ tionary history of expressive modes of behaviour it has been known that symptoms like trembling, horripilation, blushing, etc., are directly deter­ mined by the chemistry of the endocrine system which is triggered by signals from the nervous system and triggers in turn glandular discharges 7 KATHAKALl

that step up the respiratory rate and blood circulation and bring about other expressive changes. The mere perception of such changes in another can induce them in oneself by sympathetic induction. Gestures are not so deeply linked with the chemistry of the body. Nevertheless, some gestures have acquired a fairly universal intelligibility in their meaning.

But the very important point to note is that the Kathakali gestures form a complex system of signs with attributed meanings, not symbols of incarnated meaning. By first folding the hand and then slowly spreading out the fingers, it is possible to indicate an opening flower and the gesture is likely to be transparent to everybody. But most of the gestures are not mimetic in this way. Further, each gesture stands for several things. Thus the Pataka mudra is formed by holding up the hand (as if calling for order) with all the fingers stretched except the ring-finger which is bent inward. Now, shown by both the hands, this mudra can mean anyone of the following: topographical locations like the earth or the underworld; climatic features like cloud, lightening, cold; indications of time like noon or evening; architectural features like palace, street, archway, moat; animals like elephant, lion, bull, crocodile; and quite a few other things, the list numbering thirty-six. The relation between a word and its denota­ tion is not an intrinsic relation. The word is a sign, not a symbol. The poetic use of language always involves the transformation of the sign into the symbol. What has happened in Kathakali is the growth of an extensive gesture-language which in fact reverses the direction of aesthetic trans­ formation. For the denotational meaning of the gesture is attributed, not intrinsic. And the skill of the actor in translating the verbal text into the gesture-code, and the skill of the spectator in decoding it, are basically extensions of the semantic exercise of spotting meaning from sign. In spite of the fact that the text is in verse it is prose discourse repeated twice over, delaying further the aesthetic communion through the symbol.

In another respect also the gesture-language hampers swift and smoothly continuous poetic stimulation. In the case of poetic figures, as between the simile and the metaphor, the latter is swifter in its evocation because it blends images in the mind, just as the film can blend images visually through double-exposure; but the simile starts with a complete separation and proceeds leisurely to a comparison which never quite melts into a blended identity. The hard, concrete literalism of the gesture­ language makes the unitary metaphor inevitably disintegrate into the segmented simile. The text may use the metaphor - "the moon-faced beloved" - rather than the simile - "the beloved whose face is like the moon" - but the gesture-language can deal with moon and face only serially and the heavy concreteness given to both entities steps up the polarised separation between the two far more than even the simile does. In the reaction to a verbal metaphor like "elephant-gaited" beloved, the mind abstracts only the impression of the slow, swinging gait. But the SANGEET NATAK 8 gestural mimesis leads before you the fantastic animal with trunk swinging, fan-like ears waving. This overwhelming presence of the pachyderm destroys any finesse the metaphor may have had initially.

This leads us to the basic difference between the Kathakali and the classical drama. The aesthetic organization of the latter is pyramidal. The apex is the dominant feeling-flavour of the play which will be one of the nine rasas of classical aesthetics, a doctrinal system that has very strong foundations in psychology. All other feelings generated in the various phases of the evolving episodic stream will be ancillary to the dominant feeling and in fact will serve to nourish and highlight it. In a loose way we can say that the heroic sentiment (vira or raudra rasa) dominates most of the Kathakali plays. But the finer orchestration of classical drama is not present here. The vague impression of focal organisation is created by the overall pattern of the grosser action of the play. In each episode, however, the prevailing emotional tonality is autonomous. Strictly, it is not the Sanchari bhava of classical dramawhich corresponds to McDougall's derived 'emotion'. The derived emotion takes colour from the main sentiment; it always reveals the abiding persistence of the latter; it is in fact a modification of the latter in a fresh episodic nexus. In classical drama, in a romantic situation, the reactions of the heroic type and the libidinous type will be distinct though both may be positive responses to the romantic suggestions of the situation. This distinction gets lost in Kathakali. Further, the literalism of the mimetic transcription of the text - and a text loaded with conventional conceits - involves the actor in a lot of 'expressive' sallies which are brilliant but are also segmented, disparate, forging no stable links with character or the dominant emotional temper of the playas a whole.

Classical drama celebrates the triumphant transformation of the actor into the character. But in Kathakali, for the most part, the actor wants to continue to remain as the brilliant virtuoso, solving one by one the problems of complex mimesis which the librettist sets before him. This is a precisely correct way of summing up the situation, for, reading through the libretto, we can clearly see that the librettist is devising piquant problems which the actor in fact welcomes as a challenge to his genius. An instance can make this clear. In a work by Irayimman Tampy, a devious conceit is used to pay homage to the moon-like beauty (another conceit) of the heroine's face. The Chakravaka bird-pair is supposed to come together only during the day and to have to separate with nightfall. The verse reads: "Mistaking your face for the moon, and in anguish at the imminence of separation, the female Chakravaka looks with one eye filled with wistful longing at her mate and with the other flaming with anger at you." Conceit laid on conceit, the whole sequence is artificial. But, for successfully tackling its mimesis, the actor will have to have an almost unbelievable 9 KATHAKALI

control, one eye and one half of his face expressing sorrow while the other eye and the other half express anger.

In another play, a passage of Racinian psychological complexity involves Ravana registering ten different emotions simultaneously. With that fantastic anatomical equipment of his - ten faces - he is supposed to be able to register all these at once. The actor can do it only serially. But the swiftly serial, and radical, transformation of the expression on the visage does need all the twelve years' training which the good Kathakali actor is supposed to undergo. Here it should also be noted that the masterly painting of the face brings it nearer to the critical gaze, psychologically, focusing attention, with almost the same degree of effectiveness as the close-up in the film can bring it visually, by optical means. Virtuosity in expressive histrionics and connoisseurship in appreciative appraisal are thus brought together in a very close confrontation in this complex art-form.

If Kathakali had no features other than those we have analysed in detail, it would not have transcended the level of a very brilliant, but also very sophisticated, art-form. But it had also roots that dug deep into the tradition of the ritual plays like the one on the slaying of the demon Daruka by the warrior-goddess, Kali. This legacy made two great contributions: first, a strident vitality that more than compensated the rather over-cerebral stress on conventions in the poetic idiom and the gestural language; second, a numinous awe that fed on primitive, buried religious emotions and broke through with explosive power in the climactic moments.

Classical drama bans the presentation of a mortal combat on the stage. Kathakali, with its roots in the ritual plays on the slaying of demons, cannot do without it. That is why the bee in Kalidasa's Shakuntala, who bothers the heroine and gives an excuse to Dushyanta to reveal himself and chase it away, becomes transformed as a demon in the Kathakali version. Though there are romantic interludes of great beauty, the overall tonality is strident, one of turbulence and violence. The tempo of the dances sustains this tonality. Though the actors speak no words, the demonic characters frequently burst out in unearthly cries. Their entry also is often very dramatic and violent. They would forcibly seize the "curtain" held up by the attendants and fling it away with violence to reveal themselves. Likewise, some of the demonaic characters would on occasion move towards the great bronze lamp and whip up its flames by violent ges­ tures while attendants fling into the flames handfuls of fine resin dust which bum for a brief instant like clouds of fire, filling the stage with an eerie light. The hurling of challenges for combat fill the scene with tremendous clamour. There is a special make-up for the demons mutilated in combat which shows them covered with blood and with entrails exposed. Even the sophisticated spectator experiences a shock of terror when he sees such an apparition. Sometimes this gruesome figure is chased by the hero right through the SANGEET NATAK 10

midst of the audience. In such moments the confrontation of cool appraisal, which the conventions of Kathakali normally elicit, collapses completely and the spectator is deeply involved in a maelstrom of primitive, half­ magical, half-religious emotions.

In the final analysis, it is this continuous interplay of confrontation and involvement, appraisal and identification, that makes Kathakali a unique art-form without a close parallel in any other tradition in the world.

Krishna Chaitanya See Sangeet Natak 4. THE MUSICAL ASPECT OF KAKU

Dr. Sumati Mutatkar

The aim of this brief article is to discuss the special import and significance of the word "Kaku" in the context of music as distinct from its normally accepted connotation predominantly histrionic in character.

The phenomenon of sound is a physical fact while its perception through auditory sensations is a physio-psychological function. It is only when sound is employed as a medium for communicating a reaction, a feeling, an emotion or an event that it becomes an expressive utterance.

Immediate response to pleasurable and painful situations and urge for emotive communication is an instinctive activity not only of the human mind but of the whole sentient world.

This urge for utterance has been the generative principle of the entire world of sound created by man; and voice or vocal sound is the most potent and direct medium for the fulfilment ofthis urge. The Sanskrit word

Music and drama are the arts of expressive sound; and communication of emotional import is of vital importance to both. The scope of emo­ tional import in drama is clearly and specifically defined in as much as it depends on the actual depiction of specific emotions like love, joy, fear, sorrow in relevance to the characters and their emotional reactions to the 12 SANGEET NATAK situations occurring in the theme of the play, and gestures, intonations, have all to be directed to this purpose. The semantic aspect of the verbal text provides the guide-lines for its delivery in an appropriate manner.

In music as a purely tonal form independent of the verbal aspect on the other hand, the theme has to be a purely accoustic one, built up by 'sounding forms in motion'; and the object is not so much to depict any specific emotions as to create through the integration of musical idioms, forms of sonorous beauty, forms with distinct emotive flavour and feelings of their own in terms of musical values. The concept of in Indian music is the perfect, fully-evolved manifestation of the purely musical sounding form - noda-maya rupa, as it is aptly called. Thus, the emotional import of drama and music have their distinctive, independent sphere although they can also be made to work in collabora­ tion as is seen in the dramaturgical and the musical traditions in India.

Both in drama as well as in music, utterance is the medium of expression and intonation is the core and essence of expressive utterance. Intonational variations and modulations play a most vital and important role in conveying an infinite variety of shades of feelings and emotions and nuances of tonal colours and hues suggestive of musical feelings and beauty.

'Kaku' is the appropriate and significant Sanskrit word for any com­ municative variation of intonation and as such holds within its fold the very essence of the tremendous communicative and emotive power of sound. The generic definition of kaku is l;qqfc!

Thus, a modulation or variation or transformation imparting a dis­ tinctive significance and suggestivity to an utterance emerges as the basic principle of kaku or intonation. Its two-fold manifestation lies in the dramatic and the musical expression; and the word kaku is common to both dramaturgical and musical literature. Bharata's Natya-Sastra gives a clear and detailed exposition of Kaku in its dramatic context while Sangit 13 JIUSlCAL ASPECTOF KAKU

Ratnakara brings out its aspects with special and exclusive reference to music. A comparative study of these two expositions will establish the distinctive significance of kaku in musical parlance.

The 17th chapter of Natya-Sastra while dealing with the delivery of patliya or dramatic dialogues and recitatives lays down six salient features or requisite qualities out of which kaku or intonation stands apart as the central or the main factor. It appears as if Kaku or proper intonation is the principle aim to be achieved; while the remaining five - swaras, sthanas, varnas, alankaras and angas only function as factors assisting in imparting the proper quality and suggestivity to the shades of emotions to be con­ veyed through the intonation. It may be mentioned here that Abhinava­ gupta's commentary at once learned and lucid, gives a convincing argu­ ment in this regard and throws considerable light on the employment of these factors in pathya as distinct from their counterparts in music.

With this brief account of kaku in relation to drama we proceed with an investigation into the musical aspect of Kaku based on its exposition in Sangit Ratnakara. It is in the 3rd chapter of Sill/git Ratnakara, entitled "Prakirnakadhyaya" that amongst many miscellaneous but important topics the term kaku has been discussed. It is stated to be a variety of sthaya; sthaya has been defined as"U~ w:nror: i.e. the component or ingredient of raga. Raga with its two-fold import is the quintessence of Indian music round which is centred the whole creative imagination of musical beauty and grandeur. The two aspects ofits import are (i) actual, material content i.e, fCi «i f'iit"!lT or tones and their arrangement and (ii) aesthetic effect i.e. ~ or the quality of giving aesthetic pleasure and affecting or colouring the mind agreeably. Both these aspects of raga, the structural delineation as also its ethos and aesthetic effect are incorporated in the idea of sthaya. Sthaya therefore emerges as the properly formed musical idiom, a unit in the musical thought, having innumerable facets and afford­ ing an extensive compass for variety of expression.

Amongst the ten clearly distinguishable (~'lftuf) and well known (!:I"fu:;;: ) varieties of sthayas described in Sangit Ratnakara, the one pertain­ ing to chhaya occupies a prominent place and chhaya here has been identi­ fied with kaku. The use of the word chhaya as a synonym for kaku is highly suggestive and Significant; because apart from its usually understood broad meaning of shadow, shade or reflection, the word chhaya is also used in the sense of lustre, complexion, shading or blending of colours, play of light and shade etc. These are aesthetically expressive shades of the connotation of chhaya and are aptly suited to convey the delicate shades and nuances connected with musical utterance.

The definition of kaku in the context of music is ~~: {fc.>l't1I~1 ~ <1

synonym for k aku is of six varieties viz. swara-kaku, raga-kaku, anyaraga-kaku desa-kaku, kshetra-kaku and Yantra-kaku. l'.1f~f~

The second variety of chhaya is raga-kaku which has been defined as liT

The three varieties of kaku discussed so far are related to the elements of musical delineation itself. The remaining three pertain to the charac­ teristic qualities of the sound or tone colour depending on the medium or instrument through which the music is presented.

One such variety is Desa-kaku defined as -.. T...... -.. ;rr 't~lifll"iq- UlT ,:r~m

This refers to the regional peculiaritiesjn the tonal quality ofthe musical utterance. Desa-kaku can be interpreted to mean either regional varia­ tions or versions of or noticeable regional peculiarities in the intona- 15 MUSICAL ASPECT OF KAKU

tion without any material alteration in the structure of the raga itself. The latter interpretation appears more convincing. Desa-kaku should perhaps be associated not with regional versions of ragas bearing the names like Bengal Bhairava or Deogiri Bilawal for instance, but with intonational variations depending on the general cultural background especially in respect of the structure of the language spoken, speech habits etc. The phonetic nature of language is a factor of great significance in forming and moulding the functional habits of the organs of speech imparting a distinc­ tive complexion and rhythm to the vocal utterance which is naturally trans­ ferred from speech to music. The quality and typical flavour of a vocal utterance is, to an extent, transferred from voice to the instruments, especially to the ones following the vocal pattern of delineation.

Then there is Kshetra-kaku defined as m'R ~"ff~ ~fa-~ f.:ro1"Il": ~fu~ I This indicates that the human' body is called kshetra; the natural tonal quality or timbre of the voice depends on the physiolgical and anatomical features both inherited and individual, and this peculiarity of the natural tonal quality differing from one voice to another is called kshetra-kaku. The rendering of a raga acquires a unique tonal flavour in accordance with the peculiar quality of the voice of the musician. Although these are some­ times remarkably close similarities in the tonal impact of some voices there are bound to be minute shades of differences distinguishing one from the other.

The last is Yantra-kaku described as c")ollci~lIf~ll·fl(qt~: ~ lffiT I meaning that the typicai tonal quality or timbre of the sound produced by different instruments like vina, flute etc. is called yantra-kaku. On account of the difference in the timbre and the range of tonal possibilities of the different instruments, ragas appear to assume a different form, feel and flavour - when presented through different types of instruments or different instruments falling under the same category.

It is thus the concept of chhaya or Kaku which through its two-fold manifestation in the form of intonational shades, grades and flowing move­ ments on the one hand, and peculiarities of tonal characteristics and tonal potentialities of the medium through which the music is presented on the other, that makes for the uniqueness, eloquence and vitality of the expression and emotive import in the context of purely 'musical' music.

Dr..Sumati Mutatkar, B.A. D.Mus., is a vocalist of Hindustani Music, She studied music under Dr. S. N. Ratanjankar, Rajabhaiyya Poonchwale, Vilayat Hussein Khan, Sav:laram If'''l ":a"!'lnbua Joshi. She was for some time Deputy Chief Producer (Hindustani MUSIC) 111 AJ.R. Presently, she is Reader in Vocal Music Dept of Music Universityof Delhi. ,. , ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE RABAB

Dr. Joesf Kuckertz

As far as we are hitherto aware the earliest description of a termed rabab or rebab has been given in the Kitab al-Musiqi at kabir of Al-Farabi (872 to 950 A.D.).I Al-Farabi says of this rabab that it is similar to the tunbur of Hurasan, a long-necked having a small bulg­ ing-body, several on the finger-board and two strings of the same thickness, which were plucked with a plectrum. Commonly five frets, sometimes more, of the tunbur of Hurasan were fixed, the others remained movable. The answer to the question which and how many frets should be moved, is different for each country>

In comparison with the tunbur of Hurasan, the rabab showed two differences: first, it only seldom had frets, and instead the musician touched the strings at particular points according to his judgement to produce the accustomed scale. For this he placed his fore-finger at that point which was the ninth part between and . The middle finger touched the level of one sixth between nut and bridge. At one ninth between the fore­ finger and the bridge the fourth finger was placed, at one tenth between this finger and bridge the little finger was set. The result of this placing is the following sequence of intervals (see Figure 1).

The second deviation consisted in the varying thickness of the two strings which were attached to a button underneath the body and wound around pegs in the head of the finger-board. The thicker and lower string ofthe rabab was tuned, in this case, like the second string of the 'ud (the lute), the thinner and higher string of the rabab like the third string of the 'ud. Moreover it was possible to double one or two strings to amplify the sound. The two strings or pairs of strings could be tuned at an interval of I} tone, of a major third, a tritone, a fourth or a fifth. Of these possibilities of 17 THE RABAB

!!lf. ').>E! -; 13S K

1!

Fig. 1: The pitches obtained by touching a rabab string according to Al-Farabi.

tuning, the musicians preferred the first one, i.e. the interval of 11- tone, but in performances along with an 'ud, the tuning at fourths or fifths was necessary. However, if the rabab accompanied the tunbur of Hurasan, the performer tuned the two strings of the rabab at an interval of a tone. 18 SANGEET NATAK In his description Al-Farabi does not give definite information as to whether this instrument was plucked with a plectrum or played with a bow. But in his classification of musical instruments he points out that there are some instruments with strings which-are played by drawing other strings ­ or something similar - across thema, Here we can only surmise that this information refers to the rabab, but Ibn-Sina confirms this to be correct. Ibn-Sina (980-1037 A.D.) gives in his work about music - included in the Kitab as-sifa (book of cure) ~ likewise a classification of musical instru­ ments. Here he states that there are instruments with strings and frets, but instead of plucking the strings, one draws (a bow) across them, and this is the case with the rababs.

Regarding both the texts Henry George Farmer has assumed that the Arabic word rabab may be derived from a root rabba which signifies 'to collect, arrange, assemble together'. Hence the word rabab should refer to the function of the bow, inasmuch the bow 'assembles together' the short tones - produced with a plectrum on the lute or with fingers on the harp - into a long tones. Whether this etymological explanation is correct, cannot be decided in this article, but all musical instruments denoted as rabab are played with a bow ~ except the rabab used in India and Afghanistan.

Consequently rabab is a term capable of denoting bowed instruments in general, because it signifies 'a stringed instrument played by a bow'. In this respect it corresponds to the Persian word kamanca, probably derived from kaman - 'bow', which denotes in Persia especially the spike fiddle, and which can be used as a general term for bowed instruments as well.

In the 9th and 10th century the playing of stringed instruments with a bow was not restricted to the Arabian and Persian countries. Ibn­ Hurradadbih (died about 912 A.D.) mentions that the Byzantines possessed a wooden musical instrument which was similar to the rabab. This is confirmed by a Glossariom latino-arabicum of the 11th century where the Arabic word rabab is defined by lira dicta, i.e. 'called lira 6. In the 10th century bowed instruments are portrayed in Byzantine manuscripts, pictures, and reliefs, as for example in a profusely decorated small ebony box of the 10th or early 11th century". Here a child is depicted sitting on an Acanthus leaf and playing a bowed instrument which he has set on his left knee. The instrument has a pear-shaped body supported by a foot, and it has four strings. .

This and many other representations originate from a time in which there were endless wars between Europe and the Middle East. These brought about an intense cultural interchange, in spiritual as well as in material areas. The highly developed Arabian arts and sciences became 19 THE RABAB

known in the Occident, and many material and cultural commodities _ among these musical instruments - reached Europe. Along with these musical instruments, the bow for stringed instruments was introduced into Europe during the II th century by way of Moorish Spain and Byzantium. Some autochthonous or already adopted musical instruments, hitherto plucked with a plectrum, were likewise played with a bows. For example in a glossed Psalter manuscript of the library of Amiens in Frances, written about the turn of the 9th to 10th century, the Levite Asaph is portrayed with a pear-shaped instrument which he holds on his left knee and plucks with a stick of 30 to 40 ern in length. A similar picture can be found in a Psaltery of Ivrea, Northern Italy"? of the same time. Here also an instrument­ possibly called 'Fidel' - is reproduced; it is plucked with a long plectrum in the form of a stick. Other representations give similar instruments which are not plucked but played with a bow. These and many other instruments which were common in all West European countries around 1100 A.D. usually have a pear-shaped body and rear pegs. The strings are attached to a tailpiece or a button underneath the body", A very similar type of instrument can be found today in the hands of Turkish rnusiciansr>.

European instruments of this type are sometimes likewise called rabab. The name rabab or lira seems to have been used mainly in cases where the body of the instrument was supported by the left leg and the neck held upwards, as can be seen in a figure from the Cappella Palatina erected in 1140 in Palermo, Sicily-a. This instrument shows two pairs of strings which were attached to a string holder on the sound-board of the body. Besides the instruments having a pear-shaped body, we also find other instruments having a boat-shaped body which tapers gradually towards the peg-disc. The latter is bent back almost at a right angle. Such an instrument is shown in the hands of an angel-musician in the triptych on an Aragonese reliquiary of the late 14th century, it is a typical Moorish rabab called robe morisco by Juan Ruiz>. It has two pairs of strings. The upper part of the sound box consists of dark wood and has two sound-holes ornamented by rosettes. Of these rosettes, the smaller one is carved in the form of a triangle, the bigger one like a star with six points. The lower part of the sound-board is commonly a piece of parchment. On this part the bridge (zamila) is placed to keep the strings apart from the body. The symmetrically bent bow is held with the palm upwards. An instrument like this is depicted in a manuscript of the Cantigas de Santa Maria of the 13th centuryts,

A similar instrument is still commonly used today in North African Mediterranean countries. Figure 2 shows a specimen now in Haag's Gemeentemuseum, The Hague, Netherlands. Here also the wooden belly is similar to a flat boat and is waisted in its lower part. The sound-board is divided into two parts: the lower half SANGEET NATAK 20

is covered with skin, the upper half with a brass plate pierced' with three rosettes which become smaller towards the peg-box. Two strings, fastened underneath to the inside of the body, pass over a flat, trapezoid bridge to the peg-box, where they are stretched by two long pegs with wooden grip­ handles. The instrument is played with a coarse bow whose stick forms nearly a semicircle. (Only a small part of the bow stick hanging by the right peg can be seen).

The Turkish instrument having the same form (mentioned above) is called kemence. As already pointed out, this name can be explained from the fact that the Turkish word kemence, like the Persian word kamanca, and the Arabic word kamanga can be used as a general term for bowed instruments in the same way as the word rabab. But compared with the rabab from Northern Africa - as well as most of the rabab instruments used in Europe - the Turkish kemence shows one deviation: the distance between the strings and the board at the upper surface of the neck is very large. Thus while the strings are touched, they are not pressed against the board of the neck. Only the fingernail touches the string at a particular point without moving it out of its natural position.

According to its name, the rabab used in India also belongs to this group'<. This rabab may have been introduced into India along with other commodities when Islam reached India. It is reported that the instru­ ment had been played by Tansen, the great musician at 's court (1556-1606). But the present form of the Indian rabab deviates in many details from the instrument described above (Fig. 3).

Its body is carved out of a piece of wood, the sound-board is of parch­ ment and the neck continues into the peg-box which is bent back only slightly. Three of its four strings are made of gut, the fourth is of brass. Frequently the first two strings are doubled. In this case the six strings may be tuned as follows: c' f' g' ,-,g' c" ,-,c". Between the melodic strings and the , there are 8 to 11 sympathetic strings. They are tuned to the tones of the raga which is to be played. The most important diff­ erence compared to all other rabab instruments is that it is not played with a bow but with a plectrum. Strictly speaking it does not belong any more to that group which is generally called rabab, since it is no longer bowed. Compared to Europe of the 11th and 12th century, in India the reverse process took place: in Europe the instruments hitherto plucked were after­ wards played with a bow, whereas in India the rababhitherto bowed is now plucked. But the process in India can not be understood as a retrograde movement, since other instruments, for example , , or the European violin in South India, are always played with a bow. It is rather an adaptation to the particularities of the -Indian musical style, because plucked instruments especially are suitable to the performance of Indian art music, as in the case of the vina and . Fig. 2: Rabab from Northern Africa, now in Haag's Gemeentemuseum, The Hague, Netherlands.

Fig. 3: Indian rabab, now in Haag's Gemeentemuseum. Fig. 4: Persian kamanca, now in Haag's Gemeentemuseum.

Fig. 5: Persian kamanca Fig. 6: Egyptian rabab, now in the Tropical Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Fig. 7: Spike fiddle of Sumatra, now in the Tropical Museum, Amsterdam. Rabab from Tidore, now in the Tropical Museum, Amsterdam.

Spike fiddle from Celebes, now in the Tropical Museum, Amsterdam. 25 THE RABAB

Having gleaned some information about the types of rabab - the first, a long-necked lute similar to the tunbur of Hurasan described by AI­ Farabi, and the second, a lute with a bellied, pear-shaped or boar-shaped body, we must now discuss the type of instrument which is the prototype or forerunner of the rabab used in the Gammelan orchestra and in other ensembles of South East Asia (Fig. 4). This is a spike fiddle, called in Persia kamanca (in a narrower sense), in the Arabian countries kamanga, in Turkey rebap, (Here it is interesting to see how the two names can be changed.)

Figure 4 shows a priceless Persian instrument with a spherical body constructed of strips of dark wood and ebony alternately. The circle around the head of the body consists of wood and mother-of-pearl. The opening of the top of the body is covered with parchment, and here the wooden trapezoid bridge is placed. Three strings are attached to hooks on a small piece of brass underneath the body, which is at the same time the upper end of the spike. This is where the stick of the instrument starts. It passes through the body and continues into the neck, with which it is joined by a metallic cylinder, perhaps of brass. The pegbox and a piece shaped like a double onion are at the far end of the neck, which tapers slightly towards the body.

Other instruments of this type are not as profusely ornamented as this particular one, but their structure is always the same, except for some small deviations. For example, they may have five strings instead of three (Fig. 5).

To judge by the notches in the bridge for the strings, the four upper strings can be bowed only in pairs. Hence the open strings can produce only three tones, as in the instrument previously shown. Sometimes the kamanca has only two strings or pairs of strings. In this case the strings are tuned at the interval of a fourth.

The Persian kamanca, in earlier manuscripts also called gizak, can be traced as far back as the lith century. How little the form has changed in all this time may be seen in a picture of the period, around the year 1450 A.D. 17. Here a chained demon plays a four-stringed kamanca. The long, slightly bent bow is held with the palm upwards, and the strings are pressed to the wooden stick by touching them with all fingers including the thumb. Body, neck and spike of the instrument are exactly the same as in the modern kamanca previously described. In some modern instru­ ments, innovations or changes for the better were made on the peg-box. In this way the peg-box may become similar to that of the European violin or the lute. But the instrument as a whole retains its tradition. SANGEET NATAK 26

In other countries of the Middle East it is possible to modify some details of the spike fiddle without changing the whole construction. The Egyptian spike fiddle called rabab al-muganni (i.e. rabab of the siuger)«, for example has a trapezoid body consisting of a wooden frame with parch­ ment in the front and on the back, a square iron foot and a cylindrical wooden stick, in the upper part of which a peg-box is carved out. Two strings of horse-hair pass over a small bridge and are attached by a ring to the foot. This instrument is used for the accompaniment of a singer, as the name rabab al-muganni suggests. Two strings are tuned at the interval of a fifthtv. Another Egyptian instrument has a square body covered with a skin (Fig. 6).

Here two pieces of skin are stretched over a wooden rib in such a manner that they come together in the middle of the rib. There they are sewn together. A wooden stick is passed diagonally through the body. Its lower end projects somewhat beyond the body. The string is slung around the lower end of the stick and then passes through a hole in the tip of the high, triangular bridge. At the upper part, the string is wound around a lateral peg in the tip of the stick. Possibly this is the rabab as-sa'ir, the 'rabab of the poet' used for accompaniment of poetical recitations. A similar instrument is caned masenqo in Ethiopia, and there it is "typically associated with the asmari, or troubadourv>.

If we look back from this point at aU instruments described so far it will be impossible to find the origin of the rabab in only one particular form or pattern. It appears more correct to combine the origin of the rabab with the invention and the first use of the bow. But since that time, there is no standardised development either. No picture of the bowed long­ necked lute described by Al-Farabi has been found up to now, a fact from which we may conclude that this type of rabab disappeared from musical practise a little later. But those forms of rabab and kamanca which were known already in the 10th and lith century are in use up to now, and from these types other forms of bowed instruments - more or less similar in appearance - have developed. If - in the light of these types - we now try to classify the rabab instruments used in South East Asia, we wilt find them most similar to the Persian kamanca, called in Turkey rebap, A few examples may follow for demonstration (Fig. 7).

Figure 7 shows a spike fiddle used in Sumatra. Its body is a gourd of which the upper third is cut off. A skin is stretched over the mouth and sewn with strips of bamboo. The foot is carved like a bust of a human being. Two strings are attached to its upper end. They pass over' a flat bridge along the fingerboard to lateral pegs in the upper part o~ the stick.

Another rabab comes from Tidore (Fig. 8). 27 THE RABAB

It has a hemispherical body of wood, and the stick projects only a little beyond itslower side. Three strings are attached to this part of the stick; they pass over a very flat bridge along the round neck to the lateral pegs put into a wooden scroll.

The homeland of a third instrument is Celebes (Fig. 9). This is called geso-geso by the Toradja's and keso-keso in Southern Celebes, and geso or keso means 'to stroke'. Its heavy wooden body is formed like a half-pear set on its tip. A skin is stretched over the mouth and glued to the side of the body. Two strings are attached to the spike underneath the body and are wound around two crude pegs in the tip of the stick. Another instrument like the rabab is the sinrili of Celebes.

All these instruments and many others used mainly in folk music (as the Thai instrument sa law), may be understood as derivations of the kamanca produced from native material and by native craftsmanship. On the other hand, the rabab used in the Gammelan orchestra as well as the Cambodian tro khmer-! and the Thai instrument saw. sa. m sat can be considered as particular, refined varieties of the spike fiddle.

Here first, the rabab used in the Javanese Gammelan.

The rather flat wooden body ornamented by textile on its back looks, when seen from the front, like a triangle with rounded edges set on its sharp angle. This form of the body along with its ornamentation is the most marked deviation from the Persian-Arabian kamanca. A skin stretched over the mouth of the body is glued on its side. Neck and spike are shaped on a lathe. Two wire strings are attached to a button at the upper, expanded end of the spike. They pass over a high, deeply indented bridge and along the neck to two lateral pegs. At the end ofthe pegs there are round, vaulted discs, possibly of horn. The instrument is played with a bow consisting of a long-arched stick and animal hair, possibly of horse tail. A particular playing technique is connected with this variety of spike fiddle: the neck is at such a distance from the strings that the former cannot be used as a finger-board. Thus stopping the strings with exactitude may become more difficult. But on the other hand, the player has greater freedom in variation of the pitches; he is able to produce not only plain tones but also all sound-movements and ornaments between tones or around them by strengthening or slackening of pressure. Something similar applies to the rabab in the Balinese Gammelan Gambuhw,

According to Colin McPhee who has described the Balinese rabab in his publication Music in Bali (p. 117-118),the instrument is played in unison with the sulings, the end-blown flutes. He says, "Its body may consist of half a coconut shell, but is more often carved out of wood. It is covered with a parchment of buffalo intestine. The bridge supports two wire strings SANGEET NATAK 28

which are tightened by tuning pegs. The two strings wadon and lanang are tuned respectively to the second and sixth tones of the suling-scale, ding and dung Tembung, which stand a near tritone apart - 627 cents in Tabanan SIding, 628 cents in the suling of Batuan.

"This rabab is played by a loose bow, held between thumb and first two fingers while the fourth and the fifth are passed between the bow and the hair to keep the latter taut. Resin is used on the hair, and bowing is a continuous back and forth movement. A thin, rather acid tone is produced with no expression and no distinguishable difference between the pushed bow and the drawn bow. A slight vibrato 'is sometimes used, and the melody is occasionally ornamented with light, brief trills. In slow move­ ments long sustained tones are played with full bowing of unequal speed and pressure, giving the effect of an irregularly recurring throb during each tone."

Another instrument related to the rabab used in the Gammelan orches­ tra is the Thai instrument saw. sa. m sai-», This instrument has been precisely depicted in Dhanit Yupho's publication Thai Musical Instruments, translated from Thai into English by David Morton (Bangkok 1960, p. 96-100). Here Dhanit Yupho assumes the saw. sa. m sai. to be similar to the Chinese san hsien and the Japanese shamisen, But both these instruments appear like with a long neck. Of the two, the Chinese san hsien-« has a square sound-box with rounded corners, which is covered with snake skin. The flat neck is used as a finger board; it continues into an open peg-box; the Japanese shamisen is similar in construction, but it differs in some details-s. Its sound box is not covered with snake skin but with thin animal hide. Moreover it is plucked with a big plectrum, whereas the san mien is plucked with fingers.

If we assume - like Dhanit Yupho - a connection between these instruments and the saw. sa. m sai., we also have to draw a parallel to the Japanese kokyir", which has three or four strings, but is played with a bow. Besides being bowed, the kokyu has a short spike underneath the body and a bridge similar to that of the Balinese rabab. Regarding this we may conclude that some details derive from the Far East, but the Balinese and the Javanese rabab as well as the Thai instrument saw. sa. m sai. are on the whole - as DlUmit Yupho himself has stated - descendants of the Persian-Arabian kamanca-rabab.

"The body of the saw. sa. m sai ", Dhanit Yupho states, "is made from half a coconut shell. The half which is used must have three bulges in the formation of the points of a triangle. This forms the back part of the resonance chamber. The open part of the shell is covered with goat­ or calf-skin .. Three gut strings are fastened inside the shaft at the lower 29 THE RABAB

end and, after passing over the sound-box, pass through the hole at the upper end and are fastened inside the neck shaft to the three tuning pegs. These tuning pegs, two of which are to the player's left - one to the right, are rather long .." An important part of the instrument is the head weight, " .. which is fastened to the skin of the head to the left of the bridge ., It has to be proportionate in weight to the size and thickness of the head. It gives the sound produced when the instrument is played a more sonorous and mellifluous quality .. " Only by this head weight and by its spike not shaped on a lathe, the SOH'. so. m sai. differs from the rabab used in the Gammelan orchestra, but these differences are negligible if we take into consideration the possible prototype of both, the Persian-Arabian kamanca. But compared with the kamanca, the peculiarities do not count very much either, if we suppose that the fiddles used in Europe in the Middle Ages and in European folk music in many places are still derived from the rabab with bellied or boat-like body, and that this type of bowed instrument has been developed into the present European violin, according to several scholars.

Thus we may trace two big currents both originating in the Middle East after the invention of the bow in the 9th century or a little earlier: the one brought the bulging-bodied instrument into the West, the other led the spike fiddle into the East. But if we go back to the word, we cannot insist upon the fo~m, because the word indicates only "bowed instrument", not a specific form. In this sense we are able to include the long-necked lute, also called rabab and described by Al-Farabi, although with regard to its form it is surely not the prototype of the two other types of bowed instru­ ments.

REFERENCES

1. See article "Rebab" by H. G. Farmer, encyclopedia "Die Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart" (abbreviation: MGG), vol. 11, Kassel 1963, col. 79-80. 2. For this and the following see Al-Farabi, Kitabu l-Musiqi al-kabir, 2nd vol., trans­ lation into French, edited in "La Musique Arabe" by R. d'Erlanger, vol. I, Paris, 1930,p. 277-286 and p. 242-262. 3. See Al-Farabi, op. cit. p. 165-166. 4. See Ibn-Sina, Kitabu 's-sifa', chapter XII, translation into French, edited in "La Musique Arabe' by R. d'Erlanger, vol. II, Paris 1935, p. 233-234. 5. H. G. Farmer, The origin of Arabian luteand rebec, in: Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 1930, p. 775 if, and in: Studies in Oriental musical instruments, London 1931, p. 91-107 (see p. 100--101). 6. See H. G. Farmer's article "Rebab" in MGG, vol. II, col. 80, and W. Bachmann, Die Anfange des Streichinstrumentenspiels, Leipzig 1966, p. 45-46. 7. Reproduced in W. Bachmann, op. cit. fig. 9. 8. Regarding this and the following compare W. Bachmann, op. cit. p. 7(}-76. 9. Reproduced in W. Bachmann, op. cit. fig. 18. 10. Reproduced in W. Bachmann, op. cit. fig. 17. IL Examples from the Augustinian monastery Marbach/Alsace in France and the Abbey Marturi near Florence, Upper Italy, see W. Bachmann, op, cit. fig. 36 and 37. SANGEET NATAK 30

12. A figure is given in the accompanying text of the record "Turkey II' from the series "A Musical Anthology of the Orient", UNESCO-Collection, Barenreiter-Musica­ phon BM 30 L 2022. 13. Reproduced in H. G. Farmer, "Islam", ~f the series "Musikgeschichte in Bildern, ed. by Heinrich Besseler and Max Schneider, vol. III, part 2, Leipzig 1966, p. 59, fig. 44, compare p, 58. 14. Reproduced in H. G. Farmer, "Islam", p. 109, fig. 102, compare p. 108. 15. Reproduced in the article "Rebab" by H. G. Farmer, MGG vol. 11, col. 79, fig. 1. 16. Descriptions and reproductions of rabab instruments used in India and Afghanistan are given in: W. Jones and N. A. Willard, Music ofIndia, 1793, 3rd edition, Calcutta 1962, p. 66. F. J. Fetis, Histoire de la musique, vol 2, Paris 1869, p.290-291. Ch. R. Day, The music and the musical instruments of Southern India and the Deccan, London-New York 1891, plate 6. V. Ch. Mahillon, Catalogue descriptif et analytique du Musee Instrumental du Conservatoire Royal de musique de Bruxelles, 2nd. edition, Gand 1893, vol. I, No. 93. J. Grosset, Inde; Histoire de la musique depuis l'origine jusqu'anos jours, in: En­ cyclopedic de la musique et dictionaire du Conservatoire, ed, by A. Lavignac, vol. I, Paris 1913, p. 347-348. C. Sachs, Die Musikinstrumente Indiens und Indonesiens, 2nd. edition, Berlin and Leipzig 1923, p, 122-123. O. Gosvami, The story of Indian music, Bombay-Calcutta .. 1957, p. 298-300. S. Krishnaswamy, Musical Instruments of India, New Delhi 1965, p. 52-53. F. Hoerburger, Volksmusik in Afghanistan, Regensburg 1969. 17. Reproduced in H. G. Farmer, "Islam", p. 111, fig. 106, comp. p. 110... 18. Reproduced in F. J. Fetis, Historie de la musique, vol. 2, Paris 1869, p.145; and in: C. Sachs, Reallexikon der Musikinstrumente, reprint of the edition Berlin 1913, Hildesheim 1962, p. 317. 19. Compare the article "Rebab" in Sibyl Marcuse, Musical instruments, A compre­ hensive dictionary, Basel 1962. W. See M. Powne, Ethiopian Music, An introduction. London 1968, p. 39-43 and plate 7. !l. See A. Danielou, La musique du Cambodge et du Laos, Publications de l'Institut Francais d'Indologie No.9, Pondichery 1957, p. 19-20, and plates 13 and 16. ~2. Reproduced in Colin McPhee, Music of Bali, New Haven and London 1966, plate 30. !3. Besides the publication of Dhanit Yupho, quoted in the text, see D. Morton, The traditional music of Thailand, accompanying text, to the record IER 7502, Insti­ tute of Ethnomusicology, University of California, Los Angeles. ~4. See for example K. Reinhard, Chinesische Musik, Eisenach und Kassel 1956, opposite to p. 152. 25. Reproduced in W. P. MaIm, Japanese music and musical instruments, 3ed printing, Rutland and Tokyo 1969, p, 197, plates 72 and 73. 26. See W. P. MaIm, op. cit. p, 175, plate 55.

Dr. Josef Kuckertz is an ethnomusicologistofeminence. He has been studying Asian music for some years. He has.been keenly interested in Indian music, particularly the Kamatak system. At present he IS attached to the Institute of Musicology, University of Cologne, West Germany. THE ROLE OF PUPPETRY IN CONTEMPORARY EDUCATION

Meher R. Contractor

Puppets have played an important role in ancient cultures. Thev were often employed as symbols of an occult or magic po}Ver;-- King Vikramaditya it is said had a huge wooden puppet by his throne, which he consulted wisely to confirm any unpleasant or crucial judgement. The Greeks used puppets in the form of oracles to instil the fear of the gods in the populace, while primitive tribes included them in rites to cure some mental infirmity. The Egyptian Pharaohs believed that their souls would not attain peace unless their exquisite little ivory puppets and stages accom­ panied them to the other world.

An old legend tells of a wandering Indian puppeteer who arrived at the Court of a Chinese Emperor to show his skilful figures in their dance. The Emperor was so bewitched, he thought the dolls were real women dancing and ogling him. He was shocked that women should behave so in his royal presence. This almost lost the puppeteer his head had he not been able to convince his royal host that his dancers were just wooden figures which could be made to dance with the aid of strings. The puppeteer was then held captive to teach the art to the Emperor's subjects.

In the past the art was patronised by kings and emperors and it surviv­ ed so long as this support was available. Then the art had its era of decline and a lot of ribaldry and coarseness set in. Although it lost its status the fascination for puppets survived.

Actually the development of modern puppetry started in Paris when artists, musicians and poets of note used to meet in a little cafe called the "Chat Noire" during the turn of the century. Henri Reviere and Anatole France with others, combined to develop 'Le Petit Theatre' in which they used shadow puppets with the best of music and language. At this stage SANGEET NATAK 32

Anatole France saw in the puppet characters the intrinsic charm and possi­ bilities of this art. As a result he was the first person to analyse the diff­ erence between human and puppet theatre actors and the difference between dolls and puppets. He has written on the theory of 'Puppet Technique'. Stravinsky composed a whole ballet 'Petrouchka' based on the traditional Russian puppet character.

The interest of eminent men has helped the modern puppeteer to think on a vastly enlarged canvas and evolve the possibilities of puppet theatre. Today we have full-fledged puppet theatres especially in Eastern Europe, Russia, Czechoslovakia, Germany, Hungary, Rumania and even Mongolia. In our own country we have again become aware of this art which was part of our ancient heritage.

Today puppetry is not only used as a source of entertainment but as an audio-visual aid in education; in psychotherapy and physiotherapy; civic education together with television; in advertising and mass communica­ tion.

In the field of education, I have been dealing with Puppetry as an audio-visual aid for the past 15 years and my experience and experiments with the children have been of considerable interest. Puppetry offers in the classroom a combination of art and craft, as well as dramatics, which children love. Besides, it activates the imagination and gives vent to all their pent-up energies and feelings. It offers an opportunity for the child to learn by doing rather than by parrot-like memorising.

I have used puppets to teach physiology, hygiene, CiVICS, history, geography, and poetry, in each case this has enabled the subject teacher to convey the subject more vividly to the child so that it is easy for him to remember a lesson he has acted and played through puppets. For example, in the school we often found the dust-bin not being used and often the principal remarked on this during morning assembly. Finally, when no improvement was noticed on the school campus, she approached me, "Can you not do something with puppets, Meherben?", I said 1 would try.

Next day, in class with my 100year-old.group, I started by inspecting their finger nails and the question of dirt came up. Gradually the discussion led to the litter problem till the children themselves came to the point and declared, "Well, if we kept ourselves clean, our houses clean, our com­ pounds clean, there would be less infection and disease around us". illustrations:.r· 33, Little Ma'!,':!, designed by a student of the 12 year old group, from the puppet play Mara Chana Aap -, put up by Shervas School Ahmedabad at the Saurashtra Mell!o. P. 34, Aba.ve: A scene from."Mara Chana Aap".' Below left: Live child actors parttcipate along WIth the puppets. Right: Student musicians provide music for the play.

37 PUPPETRY

I then urged them on to thinking till I got to the point of identifying the objects for keeping our surroundings and ourselves clean. When they hit on the word 'dust-bin' T grabbed the opportunity and said. "Well, would it not be fun if we did a puppet play on 'The Use of the Dust-bin"? There was great excitement in the class and lots of ideas came flying fast. I seized the opportunity and gave them five minutes to think of a theme. A child who had a good musical background and language control said, "I have it, but I would like to call it 'The Dance of the Dirt Germ'." He gave his theme and with other suggestions from the excited children put together a lovely story.

The story was - a boy from a very clean and healthy family was tired of his elder sister screaming at him to wash his hands and wash his face and close the dust-bin endlessly. So one fine day he deliberately threw his left-over food into the dust-bin, spilling half of it out and messing up the place. He also kept the lid of the dust-bin uncovered and sat watch­ ing for his sister's reactions! As he sat day-dreaming, he saw a little dirt germ (the size of a horse fly) come out with a paint brush and a small bucket with the words 'germ paint' written on it and the little creature danced and seemed to paint everything with its dirt-paint. The fascinated boy be­ friended the dirt germ, who painted his mouth and fingers and toes all over with its filthy paint and they both danced, singing a song. (All these items were composed and put to music by the children). Then the boy finally got very ill and doctor said he had caught fever and cramps from some germs. The boy realized his foUy for having befriended such a dirt­ germ. He let it out and clamped it back, killing it at the same time, into the dust bin.

This play and the puppets were simply made from scrap-material boxes and cartons and then played in the Assembly one morning. The result was stunning-we found children picking up stray banana peels or paper and depositing them into the provided dust-bins themselves.

A similar problem confronted us in our New Shreyas Art Room: the children rushing out of class with unwashed paint brushes and splashing their brushes, full of paint, on the clean floors and walls. The class which was the biggest culprit in this came one morning to find me looking glum and silent. The peon also, whom I had advised to act up to my creating a situation, sat glum and dejected outside the Art room. The children came in rather quietly, wished me and seemed to exchange questioning glances. At last someone came forward, "Mehereben are you not feeling

I/fustrations; P. 35. Abare: String marionettes from "Khumb Thoibi" an Assamese fairy tale for the classroom study of the Assam Project lShreyas), Below; The marriage scene from the Family Planning theme "The Key To Happiness" done by Darpana, Ahmedabad. P. 36. Ab~re: Paper Puppets made by young students for a school play. Below: Rhythm PUppets bemg manipulated, used ill Educational Puppetry. SANGEET NATAK

well today, has something bad happened?" Then there was a chorus, "We hope everything is all right and we shall have our Art class". I said something was bothering me very much - finally they got me to admit the reason for my sadness which was as I said: "You know, this morning, when Ramaji and I came into the class, we heard peculiar voices, at first we were scared and then we knew what it was all about. The walls seemed to talk, 'Look, how your children have dirtied our fresh paint.' The floor growled the same complaint; then the brushes seemed to rise up and say, 'We are all stuck together; how do you expect us to work well when we are not kept clean?' So I felt sad and now what shall we do about this?"

Promptly a puppet play was suggested and without really construct­ ing any puppets the children asked me to leave the room for 10 minutes. I did so and on my return I was told to act my part as the Teacher, coming into the class as I had done that morning and the peon to come in sweeping. Then a child got up as The Wall; another two from under the table - The Floor - started a conversation of complaints; The Brushes were represented by a brush in each of the 3 or 4 children's hands. They started their com­ plaints, till one of the children, a boisterous little fellow of 9 always full of mischief, came forward very tearful-sounding and apologising to all the inanimate objects saying, "I am sorry on behalf of all my mates for abusing you, our tools, who have no voice and bear up things silently. I promise you we shall be extra careful from now on."

This was all I needed and then because it had such an impact we made a puppet play for the whole school. The puppets were the tables, chairs and brushes used with card paper hands and faces made by the children so that they could move them about as "table-top puppets" which are a type of puppets widely used in education.

In geography classes we have done 'A Day in the life of an Eskimo', 'A Day in the life of a Red Indian'. These children made glove puppets, wrote their own script and constructed igloos or the wigwams and remem­ bered the alien names for ever.

Besides, boys who had inhibitions as to the fact that only "girls learn sewing" and that it was "degrading for a boy" to sew, forgot all this in the excitement of making the puppets and sewing their clothes.

Language learning also becomes easier and fun with puppets. Once I got children in the 7 to 11 years old groups to translate a story from their English books into Gujarati and dramatise it for puppets, or from Gujarati mto English.

For school project-studies we did plays on , East Africa, Saurashtra, Maharashtra and Rajasthan and Assam. The children studied 39 PUPPETRY

all the year round about these countries, the people, their habits, and costumes, the music, dance, food, the animals, and bird-life, and around given subjects we made plays. Sometimes I wrote them and got the children to translate; sometimes the principal wrote them but usually the children wrote them and we worked them out with song and music all supplied by the age groups of 9 - 12 usually. We got some creditable plays which were broadcast and the Kashmir one called 'Mother Duck and Her Seven little Ducklings' was assessed by the Kashmir Cultural and Tourist Bureau, as the best advertisement. It was also filmed for the V.N.O. Library.

The effects on the children ofpuppetplays have been wonderful besides just educating them. Often, a child who stammered - and we had many whose speech defects were psychological-got completelyrid of their stammer after acting in a puppet play. The reason being, they were not open to criticism behind the screen and were often given roles which involved repetitive dialogue. They also acquired self-confidence which they normally lacked.

In this manner children not too bright or mentally retarded also found a great possibility for muscle control, speech control and handiwork which they loved.

After each puppet production many parents, whose children have benefited have come forward to ask that such classes be continued even outside school hours which is a rewarding comment. But the biggest reward is to see the children produce a play with music all by themselves. Looking after the lights, mikes, everything - they are given the entire responsibility and they handle it better, I say, than any of my professional group members.

They learn to use their presence of mind in awkward situations. Once we were performing for our annual Mela and a terrible thunder storm broke out during a performance which was in the open air; trees fell and a lot of damage was caused but our children stored away their puppets and one boy, with below average intelligence, who was in charge of lights and mikes wisely cut and disconnected the wires immediately and only then took shelter himself.

Another example worth mentioning is that of a youngster, very aggressive and always using abusive language to his class-mates, was very unpopular and created many a problem. We tried several ways to correct him but finally trapped him in a puppet play where we made him a "Raja", giving him quite an important position. In his speech (this is always im­ provised in such school-creative drama) he had to speech like a king and mind his language. Anytime back-stage if he misbehaved or used abusive language, he was told he should behave and speak like a king, otherwise SANGEET NATAK 40

it did not behove his royal highness to degrade himself! The playing of this role improved the boy greatly and helped change him into the 'clever little person he actually was.

Puppets are helping educate the masses for we· use them for family planning themes. The little puppet-characters seem to convey the message with greater impact for in our country such ideas have to be subtle - they are not easily conveyed by straight drama. There have been many plays performed for family planning and for child delinquency and many social problems have been worked out by puppet programmes, specially at Lucknow Literacy House and the Darpana Academy.

Puppets are used more and more in physiotherapy, specially in hospitals where children or adults spend months and years due to diseases like polio or amputation of limbs. Little puppet stages have been con­ structed on beds where the. patient while lying down, or propped up, can perform and entertain his companions. Thus he regains some of the confidence the infirmity may have deprived him of and helps to boost his morale and to speed up his recovery.

Puppetry is equally useful in psychotherapy for the mentally retarded for often a patient may not cooperate with a doctor but might speak to and confide in a puppet and so help the psychiatrist to diagnose the root of the trouble. For, as of old, often masks and puppets were used in frenzied dancing to cast out evil spirits by witch doctors, which was nothing but psychotherapy in tribal life, for the man possessed, worked off his pent up feelings through a masked dance.

Today in our own country though puppetry is not as advanced as in the West, there is a social awareness such as in family planning work and all civic education where through puppets much is being done to educate the masses. Puppets have a subtle impact on simple audiences which no human actor can achieve. It is because of their simplicity and their unique appeal. Though they are lifeless creatures, they grip the imagination and have succeeded in doing so inspite of the sophistication of this so-called scientific, utilitarian, contemporary world of ours. Puppets, I feel, are capable of rejuvenating the human heart like the characters in the book The Love of Seven Dolls by Paul Gallico, where his crusty hard-hearted Captain Cog breaks down and realises what love can do.

Mrs. Meher RustomContractor R.D.S. (Loi1.) qualified from the London Royal Drawing Society (The Children's Royal Academy) obtaining its membership in 1942. Conducted Teachers Diploma Course for Puppetry in Education for the Bharatiya Natya Sangh from 1964 to 1969, also courses for normal-abnormal Children's Teachers in Delhi. lVadras. Bombay. Baroda M, S. University. and Faculty ofHome Science and Fine Arts. Ahl1ledab~d ill 1958. Served. on the International Jury for the 1st International Puppet Fesstival III Bucharest, Rumania. In 1962 was elected Vice President of Union Intemationale de la Ma­ rionettes. . Has participated in several international conferences. Is at present Arts {//1~ Crafts teacher at Shreyas School, Ahmedabad. She is an active social worker and contn­ butes widely to Journals and magazines. THE MARATHI "SANGEET"

The contribution offorms of entertainment like drama, films and dance to music has been considerable. Not being restricted to the stricter grammar of classical music, they have greater freedom ofchoice ofmusic; this is parti­ cularly important for them, as the music they employ is highly programme­ oriented. The sources ofsuch music are also electic, folk, light-classical, classical andforeign forms are freely used. Drama for instance" has been afield where different ragas enter into what appear as different areas. Maharashtra for example has taken up ragas like Ananda Bhairavifrom Karnatak, and styles like and from North India. Dramatic and cinematic presentations have also borrowed heavily from folk music. The films imp­ rovise much of this and often imitate wholly Western lighter forms, often to the detriment of fine taste. The two articles-one by Sri Bhole and the other by Sri Joshi-i-study the contribution of Marathi drama to Indian Music. These papers werefirst presented some years ago at a Seminar organised by the Akademi at Delhi. They are a valuable source ofinformation and a record of later enquiries into the same field. R.C. Deva

THE CONTRIBUTION OF STAGE MUSIC TO THE GROWTH OF POPULAR MUSIC

Keshevrao Bhole

Music has enjoyed an important place in ancient Indian drama. Bharata discusses the music in drama in his Natya shastra. Drama is an audio-visual art, and as such, music forms a part of the aural aspect. Music is employed in drama as a means of intensifying emotion. It has, there­ fore, to be necessarily intelligible.

In Maharashtra, a hundred years ago, Tamasha and Kirtana were the only means of public entertainment. The intelligentsia and the elite consi­ dered Tamasha a cheap and vulgar form and as such, kept away from it. SANGEET NATAK 42

The common people however, enjoyed the Tama~ha a~d patronised it. The Kirtana being more or less religious or philosophical, did not find favour with the masses nor was it a favourite with the sophisticated elite. Drama, however, had a natural appeal to the intelligent classes in preference to Kirtana.

The history of the Marathi stage dates back to the forties of the last century. It was Vishnudas Bhave who put the first musical plays on the Marathi stage in the year 1843. He freely borrowed themes and plots from the Karnatak Drama. In those plays the emotions, thoughts, and feelings of the various characters were expressed in song, sung by the Sutradhar alone.

The tunes of the songs were based on the Karnatak style which was already popular. Bhave's musical plays were popular for over thirty or .thirty-five years. Bhave thus satisfied, to a large extent, the craving for music in the upper classes of society. His plays however, failed to attract the Tamasha-Iover. Shahir Prabhakar and his successors had a tremen­ dous hold on the working classes through the Lavani. The music, sung monotonously by the Sutradhar in Bhave's production was not calculated to attract the Tamasha audience. The virile Maratha youth with erotic abandon was at once touched by the open-throated Phirat and the jingling of anklets of the boy-dancer in female garb.

The year 1880 should be written in golden letters in the history of the Marathi stage. In this year, Annasaheb Kirloskar produced Kalidasas' Abhijnyan Shakuntala in Marathi, Before he wrote this playa significant incident is worth mentioning. Annasaheb had gone to see a prose play in Poona along with his friends, but there was no seat available. So he went to another theatre where a Parsi dramatic company was showing the Urdu play, Indra Sabha. He was surprised to find that thousands of spectators were enraptured by the music in that play. The play was a mixture of prose and verse almos t like an opera. The theme was mythological, but the music was light. The audience was so spell-bound by the music that Annasaheb was most impressed. As soon as he went home, he wrote out, in Marathi, the Sutradhar-Nati scene in Shankuntala in prose-cum-verse style, as in the original Sanskrit, woke up his friends and read it over to them. Among his friends were Moroba Vaghulikar and Balkoba Natekar, who were accomplished musicians. Moroba was adept at Lavani and Balkoba Natekar was a versatile musician. The latter was at home with classical ragas and also with thumri and .

. Annasaheb composed songs for each character like in the original of !Calldas, and he made every actor sing. This was a step ahead of Bhave, In whose plays only the Sutradhar sang. In composing songs and choosing 43 MARATHI SANGEET

tunes, the status and the characterization of the parts were given due consideration. So easy were his verses that they were readily understand­ able by the audience, and the tunes were also simple and catchy. The song fitted the incidents in the story and were used only in so far as they contributed to generating the rasa. Moroba and Bhaurao Kolhatkar with their high-pitched voices and clear diction made sure that every word of the song reached even the last row. Within no time, Annasaheb's songs became popular. Shakuntala's songs were composed on the stree-geet tunes. Her song mee tapta jari madana sharen (though I am stung by Cupid's shaft) was on the Urdu gazal tune Agar dil maine sanam ko diya. as a popular song-form was introduced for the first time on the Marathi stage by Annasaheb in 1882.

Not only this, but all the popular metres in Sanskrit and Marathi such as Kamada, Anjani-geet, Sakee, Ovee, were also used by Annasaheb in Shakuntala. Annasaheb used classical tunes for Kanva and Dushyanta, as befitting their characters, lavani tunes for Subhadra and thus catered to the tastes of both high and low brows. While planning music for Shakuntala and Saubhadra, it can be concluded, that Annasaheb and his disciple Deval, not only kept in view the various strata of listeners in the audience, but also catered to their tastes. With such golden voices as those of Bhaurao and Moroba at his command, Annasaheb used them with advantage for render­ ing catchy tunes for Saubhadra with the result that the elite and the middle class took fondly to such music which till then was unknown to them. That Saubhadra has still retained its popularity is due to the fact that its music was in a class by itself. Even players played these tunes on festive occasions; girls vied with each other in singing these songs. Bhaurao Kolhatkar's powerful and sweet voice carried the songs of Saubhadra to every hearth, right from Gwalior down to Hubli-Dharwad.

Bhaurao's Lavani thus succeeded in attracting Tamasha audiences to the theatre. The white-collared and the elite gentry was already attracted by Annasaheb's Shakuntala. That the masses were made to listen to their own well loved music, Lavani, through Bhaurao's uncommon voice was a remarkable and praise-worthy achievement of Annasaheb. His two original plays namely Saubhadra and Ramrajya Viyoga proved that the operatic form of drama could be used with success. Credit must be given to him for broadening the taste of the middle-class audience. He used Karnatak tunes for Arjuna and Krishna in Saubhadra, and thus in making Marathi stage music broad-based, he went one step ahead of Bhave. This new vogue introduced by Annasaheb came in handy not only to his disciple and co-worker, Deval, but also to new dramatists like Khadilkar and Warerkar, who came later.

Deval carried on the good work of his guru. Deval was impressed by the success of the stage versions of Shakuntala and Saubhadra. He SANGEET NATAK 44

had closely studied the various categories of audiences of Annasaheb's plays. Their tastes, likes and dislikes, and other idiosyncracies were inti­ mately observed by Deval. While composing songs in his own plays, he paid special attention to making them as simple and easily intelligible to everyone in the audience as possible. In an opera-type of composition, maximum intelligibility and clear articulation were absolutely necessary. That music in drama became so popular is mostly due to this emphasis on simplicity, clear diction on the part of the dramatists and performers. Even today Deval's Mricchakatika, Sharada and Samshayakallol are frequently staged, because the songs are so lucid and intelligible.

He kept up the same tradition of simplicity of Annasaheb in choosing the tunes of the songs. Bhaurao, who was usually famous for his female roles was presented as malePundareek in Sltapsambhrama a play based on Bana's Kadambari. Bhaurao had decided to leave the stage as he seemed too old for female roles. Deval saved the Marathi audience from this possible calamity of seeing Bhaurao acting as a woman even in his old age. Bhaurao's extraordinary singing through Shapsambhrama, Mrichhakatik and Sharada, continued to attract audiences as unabatingly as ever. No other actor could reach that standard of music after Bhaurao. Bhaurao excelled in carrying the music of Kirloskar arid Deval to every home. "Bombay Times" referred to him as "last of the Kirloskars" in its obituary on Bhaurao in the manner of 'last of the Barons'. Bhaurao, with his musical skill, gave equal prominence and respect to lavani, thumri, glzazal, and the Karnatak style of singing. The so-called classical and light forms ofmusic, when expressed by him attained the ethereal plane. We have heard of a "Garrick fever" in London. It would only be true to say that Bhaurao worked the same miracle here. Bhaurao's rendering, not only made the songs in Mricchakatika and Sharaha extremely popular but also brought fame to the author.

After Bhaurao, his tradition was carried on by Keshaorao Bhosle. Side by side with Deval and Bhaurao, Shripad Krishna Kolhatkar entered the field of drama and started a novel feature. He imported the Hindustani ghazal, qawali, kerwah form of music from the Urdu and Gujarati stage, and the essence of this feature consisted in the light, provocative and coqettish note being introduced on the Marathi stage. Owing to the racy, novel and attractive tunes, it held sway over the audience for about 14 long years and the main contribution such music made to the drama was to modify or neutralise the unintelligibility of the word-content of the song. The novelty, of course, flourished for a time but it only paved the way and served as a background for extending a welcome to the arrival of the light classical variety which captured the field in 1910, and is still dominating the stage.

One of Kolhatkar's disciples used such light tunes in his maiden play 45 MARATHI SANGEET

called Kunja Vihari in 1908 with greater discrimination and understanding. Mama Warerkar who was his disciple, however, made a judicious use of these light Hindustani tunes by putting them in proper situations and for the right characters. These tunes were best suited for youthful characters ­ Krishna and his playmates; for Radha's ostensible opposition but actual devotion for Krishna. Mama not only selected typical tunes from Gujarati and Urdu plays but he used them only at such places where the dramatic situation could thereby be enhanced. A memorable feature of Kunja Vihari was that the applause started from the pit as against the usual upper galleries from where it usually emanated. Such dramatic use of music was extremely rare. In modern films, we listen to many duets and even choruses. But none of these approach the appeal of the duets and choruses of Warerkar. Mama's songs were much more lucid than those of his guru. To Mama and Janubhau must go the credit of popularising this light Urdu and Gujerati music and raising it to an artistic level. The music in Kunjai­ vihari reached the high standard of the old masters.

Patankar used similar light tunes in his own plays in the form of duets and "musical duels". His verse was simple and befitting the structure of the play. Thus Patankar reclaimed the Tamasha listeners to the theatres by improving their taste for music. Rajapurkar Natak Mandali presented devotional plays and reinforced the work of Patankar's bhajana and in the play Tukaram which attained new heights of popularity. Haribhau Apte within his very popular play San! Sakhu rendered a similar service in popularising music.

Another landmark in the development of stage music was 1910. Khadil­ kar, who was popular and well-known on account of his prose plays, wrote his first musical. Thereafter, not only musicals became the vogue in Maharashtra, but musician-actors, like Balgandharva and Joglekar came into their own. Govindrao Tembe introduced the sweet tunes of the Poorab Dhang of Banaras in this new play of Khadilkar entitled Manapman and ~hus he presented to Marathi au~nces a popular form of North Indian music. Maharashtra discovered Tembe in this play. These tunes were already known to them through the gramophone records of Goharjan and Maujuddin Khan. But when they were used as a dramatic means for the first time, by Khadilkar, their beauty was accentuated. Balgandharava was already loved throughout Maharashtra for his sweet voice. When Govindrao Tembe gave this "Banarasi colour" to his natural sweetness, it not only blessed this form of music but also Balgandharva as well. Within, a month, all the people of Poona began to hum the songs of Manapaman. Although this Banarasi style appears to be easy, yet to master it is a difficult art. There is a seriousness in its sweetness in contrast to ghazal and qawali. Only Saubhaudra continued to command popularity after Manapaman. 46 SANGEET NATAK Another special point also became as popular as Balgandharva's light music in this play. Govindrao used Karnatak music like Annasaheb Kirloskar which showed Joglekar in altogether a new musical facet. This was really an event by itself. But unfortunately Joglekar died prematurely. His songs were repopularised later on by Keshavrao Bhosle, and by Dinanath Mangeshkar. Dinanath gave a new turn to a few tunes in Manapman and thus made them more catchy. Not that thumri and dadra were unknown to the Marathi stage. But the real beauty of this Banaras style of music was brought home for the first time to the Marathi stage. Balgandharva in Manapaman gave expression to it. Credit goes to Tembe and Balgandharva in popularising the Banaras style in Maha­ rashtra.

Saubhadra , Sharada, Kunjaivihari and M anapman may be considered as milestones in the development of stage music.

The music in Vidyaharan of Khadilkar was more serious. Classical ragas were more freely used in it than in Manapaman as for instance, a song by Balgandharva in attained uncommon popularity. This classical style of singing on the stage represented the "type" of music then prevalent on the Marathi stage. The Marathi audience cultivated the taste of enjoy­ ing khyal style" on the stage with the advent of Manapaman and Vidyaharan. From this time onwards the spectators patronised the stage more for its music than for its dramatic content.

In 1916 Deval's farce called Bhalgunrao appeared in the new form Sanshaykallol. It was a "musical" which fully exploited thumri, dadra as also classical music. There was also one lavani in it.

1916 saw the advent of Khadilkar's Rukmini Svayamvar which re­ quisitioned Bhaskarbuwa's talents as a musician. Bhaskarabuwa trained Balgandharva in the original music compositions; and later trained him in the dramatic songs called padas. Bhaskarbuwa's essential contribution lay in developing fully Balgandharva's uncommonly sweet voice to serve the needs of the stage and in bringing classical music within the easy grasp of the ordinary theatregoer. Balgandharva earned extraordinary fame; classicalists like Alladia Khan did not fail to be attracted towards Bal· gandharva. Non-Marathi listeners began to throng the theatres. To listen to Balgandharva in Svayamvara, all levels of audiences began to crowd the theatres. That such a crowd should gather to listen to ragadari music sounds almost like a fairy tale; the charm still endures. I understand that classical music was equally popular on the Andhra Stage.

Keshavarao Bhonsle was the next popular star. Songs which were popular after Manapamana were from Warerkar's Bach Mulacha Baap and Sanyashacha Sansar. Classical music was in abundance in Warerkar's 47 MARATHI SANGEET

plays. But one abhanga by Tukaram in Sanyshacha Sansar was immorta­ lised by Keshavarao. To listen to this one song, people used to calmour for tickets. Rama-Krishnabua Vaze set the tunes for Warerkar's plays. Vaze was to Keshavarao, what Bakhale was to Balgandharva. Both of these master-singers gave many rare but colourful chhejas in the khyal style to these dramatists.

This increasing popularity of classical trends brought many a musician on the stage. The theatrical companies also started using colourful ragas and cheejas in their various plays. This tradition continued and is still continuing, to some extent. Uncommon ragas were discovered in this competition. The credit for popularising music on the stage goes to stal­ warts like, Krishnarao Gore, Balgandharva, Keshavarao Bhonsle, Pandharpurkarbua, Dinanath Mangeshkar, Patwardhanbua, Master Krishnarao, Shankarrao Saranaik, Pandharkar, Chhota-Gandharva, Savai Gandharva, , Jyotsna Bhole and a host of others. More credit goes to such master-producers as Tembe, Bakhle, Vaze and Master Krishnarao. The music styles of Gwalior, Agra, Delhi, Jaipur, and Kirana Schools were frequently heard on the Marathi stage; difficult music like khyal-singing was carried to the masses and kept alive by the Marathi stage and became its greatest achievement. It also follows that such a task could' be achieved only by master-musicians.

In 1922 with Ugramangal by Khareshastri, a new type of music was introduced to the Marathi audiences, by Dinanath Mangeshkar. He had to dance in this play. Dinanath learnt Kathak dance, thumri and dadra. He liked this new dhang and the novelty impelled him to experiment with it on the stage. The Marathi audience took a long time to develop a taste for this kind of music. But he persisted. The listeners found that it was a different kind of music from that of Balgandharva. The old way of singing the song 'Bhali chandraase dharila in Manapaman was changed by Dinanath into this new style. Marathi audiences enjoyed it. Now it is this "Kathak style" of music which has become the fashion with the youngsters of the Marathi stage. Listeners heard the khyal style of singing with devotion and respect, and they listen to this 'Kathak' style of Dinanath with equal devotion and respect.

Warerkar popularised "realistic plays" on the stage like Deval. In 1933, Natyamanvantar, a new organisation, continued the same experi­ ment. Its music was also incidental and lyrical. The music of these lyrics was for enhancing the dramatic effect, like Janubbhau Nimkar, Jyostna Bhole's singing of Kanekar's lyric became popular with educated audiences. These plays of Manwantar were much too heavy for the average theatre­ goer, so were the lyrics. But new dramatists like Atre, Ranganekar Desai and others composed simple songs on this lyrical style. Thus the lucid and lyrical dramatic music of Deval was revived and made popular again. SANGEET NATAK 48

Thus the Marathi stage employed every type of music to enhance its popularity. Karnatak, folk, streegeet, classical khyals, kathak style, devotional, lyrics and so on. The stage adapted these forms and made them popular amongst all categories of listeners, and its most important feature was that it popularised even difficult forms of music like the khyal. This contribution of the Marathi stage to popular music is worth emphasis­ ing in the History of Music.

. The law of "give and take" is applicable in every type of musical style. Popular music travels to the stage and vice versa. Some modifica­ tions and alterations, in this process are natural. As in all other arts, music also easily absorbs other influences. Theatre music reached the devotional gatherings in every village, just as film tunes of today do. As popular music enriches stage music, stage music makes popular music more rich and colourful. This movement of music from the people to the stage and from the stage to the people is a two-way traffic. Let us en­ deavour to maintain this.

THE INFLUENCE OF MARATHI STAGE ON MUSIC

N. V. Joshi

The drama has always been an extremely effective means of public education and entertainment. Moral concepts and social problems which cannot be explained to the public through theoretical discussions can easily be brought within the grasp of the average intellect by using the medium of dramatic action. And whenever music has been included in dramatic presentation as one of its essentials, it has invariable made the appeal of the drama deeper and wider. This has been very strikingly illustrated in respect of the Marathi drama where the stage has not only helped in high-lighting social and ethical problems but has undoubtedly been responsible for the popularising of the musical art and for the outstanding growth of musical appreciation, side by side with dramatic appreciation, throughout Maha­ rashtra. The most interesting effect of the' importance given to music on the Marathi stage has been the direction acquired by music itself under the experiences of stage presnetation. The effect of stage music on the musical appreciation of the people as a whole has also been most remarkable. It can really be said, that these two bye products of the Marathi stage in respect of the development of music are of even greater cultural importance than the mere popularity of the dramatic art.

The Marathi stage not only helped to spread music but it created a new kind of popular music. Viewed historically, this new music arose in the 49 MARATHl SANGEET

dim regions of folk-music and devotional songs, and metrical strength of Marathi poetic composition. After a wayward but brief hobnobbing with alien rhythms and after experimenting with new tunes which were showy and capricious in their character (such as had a transient appeal to the lower levels of popular taste) stage music grew to its full stature by accepting the solid foundations of classical music. To clearly understand this process of evolution we must spend a few moments in outlining the stages by which music has developed on the Marathi stage.

Though the Marathi stage proper came into existence with the first Marathi drama written by Vishnudas Bhave in 1844, music began to have a place of importance on the stage only from 1880 onwards with the per- ,formance of the Marathi version of Shakuntala written by Annasaheb Kirloskar. Prior to this, the music which found a place on the stage was very elementary in structure and imitative of the variety peculiar to the reglious kirtan in which the puranik anecdotes recited by the Haridas iSutradharv were always lavishly interspersed with devotional or moralising couplets, quatrains and little songs. All these were an integral part of the r.arrative and had no independent existence by themselves.

In the early Marathi drama, we find the Sutradhar standing in a corner of the stage and reciting this simple music, as the story of the drama went on unfolding itself through the actions and brief conversation-pieces of the dramatis personae who held the centre of the stage. This type of singing was so common-place and devoid of variety that it neither evoked any enthusiasm in the public mind nor could it heighten, in any way what­ soever, the effectiveness of dramatic presentation. Besides, the monoply of all the singing by Sutradhar alone made it all the more dull and ineffective. Music at this stage was not an integral part of dramatic action; it served neither to convey the mood of the player nor to enhance the piquancy of the dramatic situation. Verse-recital was simply a structural adjunct in build­ ing up the play. Also to some extent it was something like a lingering Shadow from the days of minstrelsy when wandering singers entertained the people with narrative verse describing dramatic action. It is significant that in Marathi drama, a musical piece is called pada a Marathi word derived from Sanskrit which merely means 'verse'. The prose narrative of the drama was, therefore, punctuated at frequent intervals with 'verse' which was very rarely a 'song'; and ordinarily this verse had very little musical quality or significance in the development of the drama. This accounts for the great number of songs, (for example 200 in Shakuntalay we find in the early Marathi drama. It can easily be inferred from this that in the early days of the Marathi stage, music in its true sense was not readily associated with a stage performance either in the minds of the dramatists or of the people. SANGEET NATAK 50

The audiences that heard the songs in Shakuntala became aware that the stage had brought to them a new kind of music. The origin of the well­ developed stage-, is, therefore, to be found in Shakuntala. Its departure from the conventional treatment of music revolu­ tionised the position of music on the Marathi stage and the plays which followed Shakuntala especially Saubhadra, Mrichhakatik, and others became so popular that for the next 50 years or more after 1880 the Marathi stage became a veritable paradise for musical art. The stage was not only equated but almost identified with music. Though this period produced some excellent prose plays which were effectively staged by the best actors in Maharashtra, the hold which music had established on stage-production and the irresistible charm which music had exercised on the public mind did not diminish in the least. The stage itself had taught the public to recognize and cherish good music and it could not deny to them the pleasure they had learnt to seek in musical productions. Of course, when dramatic art itself progressed further it was realised both by the dramatist and the producer that from the point of view of stage-technique and also in the interests of better performances by individual actors, it was not desirable to allow music to supersede the dramatic element in a play. The number of songs and the length of time taken by music have afterwards considerably declined so that in a modern Marathi play like Kulawadhu it has come down to five songs in all.

If the changes in the character of Marathi stage-music are traced in a graded time-sequence, we get five clear-cut periods which cover the 75 years of its growth. These periods are: 1880 to 1895; 1895 to 1910; 1910 to 1920; 1921 to 1935; 1936 onwards.

In the Shakuntala of Kirloskar which was staged in 1880 the first remarkable change we find is that each character sang his own songs instead of Sutradhar undertaking the whole job, as formerly. Next an attempt was made to avoid monotony not only by providing a large variety in the choice of tunes, but also by introducing some tunes with which the audience was not quite familiar. In many instances, however, the metrical form used in Sanskrit poetry were freely employed and the rhythm inherent in the metre lent some grace and impressiveness to the song. This is why we find an abundance of saky and dindy and other metrical forms in Shakuntala and other plays of that period. But apart fr~m this there were some attempts to give some good variety and it was thus that the stage music of Maharash' tra achieved the first higher level in its evolution.

The new tunes popularised by the stage were very simple but sweet so that they could be sung with enjoyment by even the uninitiated in the technique of music. Some of them were very attractive in rhythm and musical structure where they were modelled on the tunes of the lal'oni 51 MARATH/ SANGEET

the most voluptuous variety of Marathi love-songs. The actors who sang them had real consideration for the words of the songs and did their best to infuse them with emotion. Their style of singing was free from the confus­ ing improvisations common to ragadari music and their voices were clear .and resonant. The songs were sung for a very short time, as compared with later periods; and the use of tunes and alapa was very limited. But with such embellishments as khatka and murki and short but powerful tanas the music of singer-actors of those days-especially of Bhaurao Kolhatkar of exceptional virility-went straight to the heart of the audience and made theatre-going a most delightful recreation and musical-rnindedness quickly succeeded in inducing in the people great enthusiasm for the stage as a whole. As a result of this some of the best writers in Maharashtra indisputably rose to a high order. The promoters of the stage gradually began to realise that if stage-music were to support the high level of dramatic presentation now called for, it was essential for it to slake off its limited form and boldly step out into the region of classical music.

This was a critical and most significant time in the history of music in Maharashtra. But unfortunately ina feudalistic social order, in Maha­ rashtra also, classical music was the privilege and preserve of a small social group made up of the nobility and aristocracy, while the general populace had remained distant from the aristocratic level of the musical art. The musical knowledge and appreciation of the common man was restricted to simple -folk and devotional songs which were elementary in stucture and so could be learnt and sung even by persons entirely ignorant of the meaning of music. In the beginning, therefore, only that type of singing which could be recognised and appreciated by the average listener was brought on the stage. However, as soon as it was apparent that this constant and abundant feeding on folk music jaded the palate of the theatre-goer, the promoters of Marathi drama sensed the need for bringing some newness into stage music. How to do this was a real problem. Some attempts (in Dyutvinod and other plays) were then made by the stage to offer to the people intricate ragadari music. This went above their heads and was not appreciated.

Another way to tackle this problem was attempted by some imagi­ native musical minds connected with the Marathi stage. The first promi­ nent name which must be mentioned here is that of Shripad Krishna Kolhatkar. Kolhatkar was himself a dramatist of a high order and a good student of music. He searched for new tunes and experimented with them in his plays such as Virtanaya and Muknayak, He loved to adapt some interesting tunes current on the Urdu, Parsi and Gujarati stage. These were mainly characterised by sharp rhythm, sprightly movements, oblique motion of voice and were sometimes imitative of an alien type of band­ music. Some of these were sung as solos and some as duets. The use of SANGEET NATAK 52

these tunes on the Marathi stage no doubt attracted public attention for some time chiefly on account of their novelty. But they were not in harmony with the genius of Indian music and were rather out of tune with the established traditions of the Marathi stage so that they disappeared as soon as their novelty were off.

The third stage in the development of Marathi music spread from 1911" to 1920 and this period may be termed as the 'Golden Age' of Marathi music.

During these 10 years, the stage music of Maharashtra rose to the highest point of its glory both as regards genuine musicl quality and depth of popular appeal. Such brilliant dramatic production as Manapman, • Vidyaharan, Saushaykallol, Swayamvar and Ekacli Pyala were staged in these 10 years and the glamour that they lent to stage music is most remark­ able. This striking development needs some analysis for understanding the factors which brought it about. First of all, the most revolutionary thing which happened in the world of Marathi stage music in this period was the rise of the concept of music direction. The work of setting the lyrics in Manapman the first drama of this period to music was entrusted to one of the most brilliant musical minds of India - Govindrao Tembe.

This was a break from the past tradition where the dramatist himself set his songs to music with the help of the actors. This was the realiza­ tion that music was amost valuabl e asset fo r stage production and had, therefore, to be treated with greater honour and care. Tembe was not just a musician but also a creative artist. He planned all the music in Manapman, harmonised it with the needs of the characters and the dramatic situation from the beginning to the end. This heightened its dramatic effect which in its turn gave the music a significance.

The experiments which Kolhatkar had already attempted in stage­ music and proved that search for new tunes was essential to keep the public attracted. Tembe accepted this principle. But his approach to the matter was deeply influenced by the performances of some of the best exponents of ragadari music as well as music (like purab thumri, hori and qall'ali) in that period. That is why, instead of searching for novel and unusual music, he made use of some of the best and suitable tunes that were sung by great artists of classical music. These tunes in Manapman especially those based on lyrical orientation need our particular attention. Tembe was greatly fascinated by the performances of such veteran-exponents of this classical light music style as Goharjan, Moujuddin and others. Songs of this type for example 'Pahi Sada Mi', 'Khara To Premo' and the like became so extraordinarily popular that the plays which came to be staged after Manapman contained several songs of this light classical variety. 53 MARATHI SANGEET

Another striking point was that the music direction of Tembe did not end with merely giving new tunes to dramatic lyrics. He actually taught the actors how to render them attractively on the stage by a judicious use of alankara and variegated repetition of the words of the songs. The special style of singing thus introduced became so popular and peculiar that ultimately the stage music established a variety and name iNatya­ Sangit) of its own.

The other music-director of this golden period who moulded stage­ music into higher forms was Bhaskarbuva Bakhale. He realised exactly what type of ragadari music would suit the stage and took it to its highest peak in his play Swayamwar, In preparing the musical score for Swayamvar, he employed some of the simpler ragas in their pure form and adjusted their scope to the limitations of the stage. He chose widely sung ragas like Bhup, , , Bageshri, Bhimaplas and so on and trained the actors to render them so as to suit the needs of the stage. Bakhale was aware that the more complicated ragas which succeeded only when they had plenty of scope for expansion and improvisation would fail on the stage. This is the reason why several indiscriminate attempts at introducing intri­ cate ragadari music on the stage ended in a failure, while the tradition of sugam ragadari still continues on the Marathi stage.

Though the growth of higher stage-music owes much to the efforts of the music-directors like Tembe, Bakhale and others, the actors who actually gave the musical performance are equally or in a sense more responsible for it. It was the actor who ultimately conveyed the music to the audience and it was because this period was lucky to have a succession of gifted actor­ singers that higher musical values could be transmitted to the public. Some names which definitely need mention are Keshavrao Bhosle, Halyalkar, Krishnarao Gore, Joglekar, Shankarrao Sarnaik, Master Dinanath, Pendharkar, and others. For more than 25 years (from 1910) they dominated the Marathi stage and brought rare honour and enrichment to stage-music. Of these, Narayanrao Rajhans (who is more popularly known as Balgandharva) is in a class by himself. His looks, histrionic talent and musical gift combined together so beautifully that . he was given the title of Nat-Samrat, He captured the public with his singing which had acquired a rare quality on account of his melodious voice, the clear diction of his songs, accuracy ofrhythm and the delicacywith which he presented the musical ornamentation of the tune he sung.

The singing of Balgandharva took stage music not only into Maha­ rashtrian homes but also attracted the bordering , Gujarati and Kannada audiences. This Was a great triumph for Marathi stage music. It had by now evolved itself into an absolutely independent category of music which was certainly very high in quality but not so obscurely high as to be SANGEET NATAK 54 unintelligible to the average public. But it definitely paved the way to the understanding of ragadari music for whoever desired to make that attempt. This was the music that was needed to bridge the old gulf between the rudimentary folk-songs and the complicated perfection of ragadari music. The advent of this new and well-formed music during the early 20th century, created a sort of middle-class in the world of music which was badly needed to raise the level of the musical taste of the average person and to temper the aridity of the musical highbrow. Thus it was that the Marathi stage gave a new direction to music and made a valuable contribution to the growth of musical appreciation and musical art in the whole of Maharashtra,

The fourth period continued these traditions and able musicians like Tembe, Vazebuwa and Master Krishna made further contribution in the field of music direction. Vazebuwa introduced many more ragas and ragadari music on the stage. Also a new trend became evident at this stage. Tembe and Master Krishna were no longer content with searching for suit­ able tunes in the vast traditional stock of classical music. They began to compose tunes of their own. Here it must be borne in mind that they had very little scope for composing entirely independent music because the stores of traditional Indian music are so rich in quality and variety that the possibilities of fresh composition appear to be almost non-existent. Still, the attempts at composition made by these creative musicians are of much experimental value. It must be remembered that this experimenta­ tion was induced by the confident support offered to them by the well established Marathi stage. It had built up such a status by now that it could fearlessly put forth innovations and leave them to be evaluated by audiences whose level of musical knowledge and appreciation had been raised quite high through the medium of the stage itself.

In the period which begins from 1935, the stage did not make much fresh contribution to the progress of music. The silent motion picture had long since begun to complete with the stage. It offered entertainment which cost very little and which could generally appeal to all the classes in society. The first sound picture (talkie) in Marathi was exhibited in 1930 or about. The audiences which had already been attracted by the visual artistry of the cinema were further captured by the additi~nal attrac­ tion of the dialogue and music which the sound picture now offered to them. The stage was seriously affected by the cinema which offered enter­ tainment which was not only less expensive but made much less demand on the intelligence and imagination of the audience. The stage also suffered an acute shortage of good actors and able singers. With the decline of the stage the progress of stage-music was naturally arrested. The only play in this period which became popular because of its music was Kulavadhu in which Jyostna Bhole demonstrated some of her best singing. 55 MARATHI SANGEET

The cinema has had one very specifically undesirable effect on stage­ music. In the past though the job of the music-director was quite impor­ tant, the actors had considerable scope for attempting variations on the original theme and show their individuality in the art of vocal music. But stage music which followed in the foot-steps of cinema music and music direction, naturally, restricted the freedom of the singer. The orchestra which holds a place of prominence in cinema music made its way on the stage and that has been another cause for swamping the growth of stage­ music. Sometimes one is filled with pity for the art of the singer which had risen to the heights of its glory on the stage and now sank into compara­ tive insignificance in the overpowering music directon and the companion­ ship-of the orchestra.

In spite of the neglect it has to bear during the last 15 years or so, the music created by the Marathi stage still retains its grip on the minds of the music lovers of Maharashtra. The greatest service rendered by the Marathi stage to music is that it brought a broad knowledge and an intelligent appre­ ciation of the techniques of lalit and ragadari music within the reach of everyone in society. In doing so, it also removed the social distinctions in the field of music. The liking created by the stage for higher music became so deep-rooted in the Maharashtrian mind that it automatically rejected any flippant and alien tunes introduced on the stage and could not appreciate the latter music which had fallen into the clutches of the music director and the orchestra. Discriminating audiences in Maharashtra have not been comfortable even with the lighter type of lyric-singingon the stage. The taste which the people have acquired for genuine music constantly takes them back to such old plays as Soubhadra, Manapman and Ekach Pyala. They never seem to tire of witnessing the same plays and listening to the same music over and over again. This can be fully understood when one remembers that the pleasure derived from pure music is always endless pleasure and like all things of beauty, the genuine musical art is a joy for ever.

The musical education given to Maharashtra by the Marathi stage has no parallel elsewhere. What is more, the continuous interaction between music and an appreciative audience helped to raise the levels of stage-music as well as of musical appreciation still further. This process ultimately resulted in building up a powerful musical tradition which was founded on the solid ground of classical music. That is why the Marathi audience has become sensitive to the subtle beauty of in all its styles. The credit for this achievement must mostly be given to the Marathi stage.

But unfortunately, the generation which received this musical educa­ tion will disappear in some years and with it might disappear the apprecia- SANGEET NATAK 56 tion of real music. Therefore, we are now faced with the problem of how to help the younger generation to cultivate a taste for the best music. It is well-known that during the past few years the stage has shown signs of decline under the onslaught of the cinema. Sadly enough, the film-music which replaced stage-music has caused a downward trend in the musical standards of the public everywhere and also among the younger generation in Maharashtra. The good music produced by the stage is in real danger and it would be a great pity, at this critical stage, to allow the invaluable work done by the Marathi stage to go so quickly into oblivion.