The Indian raga, which has enjoyed variable popularity in the West since the 1970s under the influence of a number of musicians from various backgrounds and, if we may speak of such a thing, “schools” (George Harrison and Terry Riley come to mind, and two more disparate musicians are hard to imagine), is the product of a musical tradition that may very well be the oldest still extant – or at least, the oldest with an actual history. (“History” simply because we can actually trace this tradition through written sources back for about four thousand years.) This history begins with the Vedic hymns, the oldest collection of which is the Rig Veda, collected in written form by at least the second millenium B.C.E. and quite possibly the continuation of a still older tradition of vocal music. (In broad terms, it is arguable that vocal music in some form predates Homo sapiens and perhaps the genus Homo as a whole.) The outgrowth of this tradition includes a rich and complex art music that includes as one of its foremost examples the raga.
The term “raga itself has several meanings, describing both a basic scale (out of several possibilities) and a melodic form (which in theory may number in the thousands, although the basic repertoire numbers around fifty or sixty). The other great driving force in Indian musical theory is rhythm, which, like melody, is based on the recitation of Vedic texts. (This religious component is no doubt responsible for the consistency of Indian music over millenia: the sound of the music has not only a physical but a spiritual meaning, making accurate renderings of supreme importance.) Like the ragas, the talas are named and classified. There are refinements built into the basic framework that become important in performance because they are not revealed until the performer begins to improvise. The performance of a raga will open with alap, a relatively free-form statement of the theme and defining characteristics of the piece, followed by a set of variations in various rhythmic modes, as in the “Gat in Deepchandi Tal” and “Gat in Dadra Tal” below.
K. Sridhar’s rendition of the Raga Madhukauns is extraordinarily lean to those used to the sinuous, richly textured renditions of Indian raga by other performers. Partly because it is performed on the sarod, the sound is spare, almost severe, rather than revealing the lush sonority of the sitar, probably more familiar to Western audiences. The beginning alap is thoughtful, definite, a near solo for the sarod with only hints of the tabla and tambour, becoming an intense, driving experience as it shifts into the “Gat in Rupak Tal,” as the tabla and tamboura pick up a complex, multilayered rhythm overlaid by the stark, percussive melody of the sarod.
The Raga Piloo also begins ruminatively, although alap is not so spare as that in the previous piece. Moving into “Gat in Dadra Tal,” Sridhar brings an almost mournful quality to his playing. The “Gat in drut Teental” introduces a much livelier feel with again a driving intensity that becomes even more pronounced as Sridhar drops into almost sotto voce sections, building up into dizzying crescendos. The final passage in this section is almost heartstopping in its intensity.
Personnel on this recording include K. Sridhar, sarod; N. V. Murthy, tabla; and Suzy Altman, tamboura.
Pandit Nikhil Banerjee is legendary among Indian performers, and his rendition of the Raga Piloo is in marked contrast to that of Sridhar. Aside from the major role of improvisation in Indian performance, which would require a much higher degree of connoisseurship than I can claim in order to be able actually to compare the two performers, Banerjee played the sitar, which brings a much more familiar, more sinuous sound to his performance. The drone is much more apparent in the alap and, while the mood is thoughtful, as in Sridhar’s recording, there is less incipient tension in Banerjee’s performance. Banerjee has a much cooler sound than Sridhar, but the “Gat in Rupak Tal,” in “Deepchandi Tal,” and in “drut Teental” do a great deal to illustrate Banerjee’s amazing virtuosity, even to my novice ears.
Personnel are Pandit Nikhil Banerjee, sitar; Anindo Chatterjee, tabla; and Ratan Mukherjee, tamboura.
Both CDs are issued by Amigo Musik, a Swedish company that has released a number of recordings of live performances by notable Indian performers (thus the applause at the end of each work). For “live” discs, these are quite well done – if I didn’t know differently, I would have believed them to be studio recordings. For those with an interest in Indian music, these are definitely worth investigating.
(Amigo Musik AB, 1999)
(Amigo Musik AB, 1999)
