Guitar and tabla duo

This is a new project I have been working on with a great guitar player, Dusty Brough.  Hope you enjoy.

a poem for you before birth

a poem for you before birth:

(for us, from the earth comes ours)

from eternity’s nightly showers,

we love.

and love is

something that happens with you.

(my love,

hour after hour)

as two hearts become three

our love gives birth,

yours,

mine,

and eternity.

Untitled

I.

Time is elastic and blurry underneath.

If you open your eyes,

White foam, dimensions of light, of dark,

of sand.

Eyelids flail open, every particle effecting,

They sting.

But this beauty is elusive:

It was neither my experience, or an

Experience that was experienced by an experiencer.

It was, and it is, contained in what will be,

Perhaps, contained in what was.

Blurred beneath only eternal elasticity remains.

II.

Stories attached to names; James, Judy, or

Stan,

Could never be the essence of “I am.”

For they were born (although not at birth)

And they must die (although maybe, not at death).

“I am” was not born, and “I am” cannot die.

Essences of beingness never birthed.

Fallacies of names

With their stories are remembered,

then replacing.

Beyond the memories though, well beyond

Ideas of both birth and death,

No-thing-ness.

“I am”

III.

“The river is a strong brown god.”

Said Eliot.

Fervid eruption, seperation from the

Sudden fall.

We are our condition.

Though condition only, at the bottom of our fall,

The River again.

Indian music scholarship (Part 2)

This is a continuation of an earlier post, Indian music scholarship (Part 1)

19^th and Early 20^th Century Musicology

Sir William Jones (1746-1794), the first European scholar of Indian Music (as well as the first to translate Sanskrit texts in both Greek and Latin), is important for two main reasons: (1) Jones was a famous judge in Calcutta and therefore represents another magisterial approach to scholarship, and (2) his work began a similar, but European approach to master narrative scholarship.  In Jones’ famous article, “On the Musical Modes of the Hindus,” he “drew scholarly interest toward Indian music by showing that it deserved respect and attention” (Quoted from Simms 2000:49 where he draws from Surobindro Mohun Tagore’s 1875 Hindu Music From Various Authors).

Beyond Jones’ contribution though, we cannot speak of India’s modern musicology without a look at its two most famous contributors, Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande (1860-1936), and Vishnu Digambar Paluskar (1872-1931).   Although both of these scholars had similar goals of disseminating musical knowledge to the emerging middle class, their ideals differed greatly.  Bhatkhande had a “tripartite understanding of music—modern, scholastic, and secular . . .” and strove to create a music that was not ancient, but modern, national, and unified (Bhakle 2005:97-98).  He believed that the division of Carnatic (South Indian classical) and Hindustani (North Indian classical) music was an approach that would never lead to a nationalist art, which he firmly believed in.  He aimed to create treatises of music that had nothing to do with religion or ancient works, and in return, established a textual basis for music schools all over India.  Bhatkande was also employed by princely states to codify musical exams that sought to standardize music education.  Even though his ideals departed from others within the category of master narrative scholarship, his approach was entirely devoted to theoretical and historical studies.

Paluskar differed in his approach only because of his ideals; he is still considered a scholar under the rubric of master narratives who utilized nationalist motives for his spread of Indian Classical music.  “His understanding of music was simple, straightforward, contained few contradictions, and focused on the simple, spiritual, and public duties of music over the arcane and intellectual” (Bhakle 2005: 137).  As opposed to Bhatkhande, Paluskar truly believed in the propagation that this music was tied to ancient Hindu beliefs, which, as I argue here, is apart of the master narrative.

Recent Musicological Works: Proceeding Towards Ethnomusicology

I want to make my conception of two approaches, musicology and ethnomusicology, clear: Musicological works within India’s musical scholarship are not based in ethnographic material and are concerned primarily with musical theory and/or history.  Without being devoid of history, ethnomusicological works are rooted in ethnographic research, but have more to do with social behavior and social systems, and almost nothing to do with theory.

Kofi Agawu addresses the divide between theorists and historians in his 1993 article, “Does Theory Need History?” by asserting that current boundaries “ain’t such a bad thing” (Agawu 1993:98).  He believes that although theoretical tools may be necessary for historical analysis, the contrary is false; historical conclusions are not needed for theoretical analysis.  This illustrates a contrast in the musicology of India—the divide in India’s music scholarship is through musicological and ethnomusicological approaches, not theoretical versus historical.  Although theoretical discourses such as Nazir Jairazbhoy’s book, The Rags of North India, or Alain Danielou’s, The Ragas of Northern Indian Music, focus on “Indian music theories,” they are always written with historical notions in mind.

For example, in Jairazbhoy’s, The Rags of North India (1971), he reflects on the historical/theoretical divide: “While a study of the cultural background of the people is essential for a social and historical perspective of this music, its appreciation depends largely on comprehension of the musical idiom, and it is to this end that the present work in dedicated” (Jairazbhoy 1971:11).  While theoretical developments of melody remain central to his effort the proceeding introduction is the only example of “social and historical” concern throughout the entire book.  The reason for Jairazbhoy’s division of theory has nothing to do with what Agawu expresses in his article.  Rather, the differences between history and theory in Indian music have much more to with the directed audience of a particular work.

For brevity’s sake, we cannot go into depth with other key musicological works, but they still need to be mentioned.  Fox Strangeway’s 1914, Music of Hindostan, is important because it was one of the first books rooted western scholarship to discuss Indian music history and theory and established the way many authors, Indian and non-Indian, wrote after him.  Swami Prajananananda’s 1965 book, A Historical Study of Indian Music, is an example of an Indian author following the approach of a much earlier musicologist (a lean towards a spiritual connection to music), Vishnu Digambar Paluskar.  Although much information in Aban Mistry’s, Pakawaj and Tabla was obtained through interviews (which could be considered ethnographic to some extent), its concern is undoubtedly rooted in historical and genealogical charts; something that ethnomusicological works tend to shy away from.

All of these works are still examples of the master narrative in Indian scholarship, with a shift in emphasis to what I see as curatorial.  If the preceding musicological works that we discussed (the Sangitasiromani, the Sangitaratnakara, and Jones’ “On the musical modes of the Hindos) were rooted in magisterial approaches, these more recent works certainly depart from earlier forms.  I posit that they are curatorial because their aim was to exhibit (especially in Jairazbhoy’s work) and frame what was important about Indian music for a larger audience.  Although there was a shift from magisterial to curatorial works, a common thread is of political concerns (be it nationalist or a choice of which audience one wrote for) were always at the forefront.

A recent book worth discussing serves almost as a bridge between the two approaches, musicological and ethnomusicological: Ritwik Sanyal and Richard Widdess’, Dhrupad.  Co-authored by a western musicologist and a professional Drhupad singer, the approach to this work encompasses ethnographic methods and historical/theoretical musical examples.  Although this book is not within the realm of what I consider ethnomusicological, it provides an example of a shift in emphasis from the purely musicological.  Conclusions are not presented as a result of individual labor, but rather, a collaborative effort where the “trained” musicologist is in dialogue with a very visible culture-bearer.  In the chapter, “The transmission of tradition: The Dagar family,” a difference in master narrative can be seen where focus is not entirely on historical and theoretical concern, but on processes of transmission.  While this book is not entirely representative of a shift in narrative, it certainly displays a shift in emphasis of musicological works on Indian music.

Ramji Mishra

I found this recording on youtube through knisar22′s youtube channel (which is amazing and really active with new uploads from unique recordings all the time).  Ramji’s playing is mind blowing!  Even though this an older recording without high quality, the essence of his mastery is so crystal clear.  The clarity, speed, and sheer variety of his bols is breathtaking.  I wish there were more recordings out there of his.

From reading a few articles on the web about Ramji, I learned that he is the son of the famous Benares tabla master Anokelal Ji, and was all set to take the world stage “but that certain other jealous Benares tabla players slipped him some mind-cracking drugs and sent him mad. It is one of the big shames of Benares music-circle politics.” (http://forums.chandrakantha.com/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=982)  This intrigues me because regardless if it is true or not, this story adds a certain mystique to his life, which, if juxtaposed on the few recordings of his that are available, tell a story untold about a rare genius.  In hindustani music this juxtaposition may not be a necessarily new phenomenon (i.e., of a mysterious life against the work of a genius), but this recording here undoubtedly displays an artistic feat seldom heard.  Supposedly, he still plays concerts occasionally, but because he is quite old now rarely gives long performances.  I would love to learn more about Ramji’s life, and hear more of his recordings, so if anyone knows what direction to point, let me know!

There are 5 clips loaded of Ramji’s tabla, but I just added one here:

Bali tour

Here are some photos from my recent tour of Bali.  Needless to say it was one of the best tours I have ever been on.  Although the quality of the photos could be better–they were taken on my phone!–I still hope you enjoy.

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The first few are of the house I stayed at in Ubud where a beautiful statue of Saraswati was at the entrance.

Then, a series of photos at Klotok, the beach where I body surfed several times and managed to get great waves.  I was told the statue there is of the son of Hanuman who was accidently dropped in the ocean (by Hanuman) on the way back from Lanka.  But because he could never find his father–Hanuman, who meditated constantly in the forest–he was deemed to a life of strife, where he breathed fire like that of a dragon.  I am not sure if this is a Balinese interpretation of the Ramayana stories, or taken directly from its source in India (can anyone help with this one?).  Supposedly, when he left the ocean and searched for his father, his vehicle was a sea turtle.

A friend of mine, Meghan Hynson, who studies gamelan in Bali (as well as a UCLA PhD student) took me to the home of her gender wayang teacher in Mas, Bali.  His son (whose name I forgot!) is an amazing puppeteer, musician, and mask maker whose works have been shown all over the world.  The first picture is a carving of President Obama in a Balinese-style head decor, something that I didn’t catch right away (did you?).  One of the pictures is his humble work station with only a stump and chisels.  It amazed me that he created so much with so little!

And of course, I had to include two more pictures of my commute to the ocean on my trusty scooter.

I assisted Dave Stringer at the Vibrant Living Yoga teacher training sessions, and one student of sessions drew a picture of us while we played one afternoon.  I am not sure if she was bored by the music or moved to create something spontaneously.  Either way, I had to have an archive of it.

On the way back from the coast one afternoon I was stopped by a marching gamelan for a festival.  I took one picture of a kid dressed up in his costume and he grew so excited that he called over his friends and had me take another with all of them.

One morning during our stay, Dave and I played a kirtan at dawn for another yoga retreat in Ubud.  The setting was beautiful: sunrise at Lake Batur with a view of the volcano.

The next set of photos are of Hotel Anahata, where I stayed for the final stint in Ubud.  It was a gorgeous place on a canyon that had two waterfalls at the bottom.

I didn’t realize it, but the final photo is the only one of music!  We had a great recording session during our last week in Bali.  Pictured here is Dave Stringer on harmonium and Angelo Berardi on violin.

Ode to bodysurfing

This is a short video of one of my favorite body surfers.   I have hesitated to post about this here, but because the ocean is such a massive part of my life I felt that I should open my expression here: with the most basic form of riding a wave, and as of recently, one of my most favorite.

Flamenco and tabla

This is a highlight reel of a recent concert I did with guitarist, Juan Moro, in San Diego.  The concert was small and intimate with minimal amplification at Paper Moon Guitar Studios.  I do not usually like to play tablas on a stand, but sometimes, out of necessity, I do for fusion work purposes.  Though I always play with shoes off!  Juan is an amazing guitarist I have worked with for the past fews years and a dedicated scholar in both flamenco and linguistics.  Moro is a professor of linguistics at UCSD.  Enjoy!

Raga Bageshree

Here are some recent clips of a house concert with sitar player, Rahul Neuman.  This was the last house concert I hosted in our old house, as we just moved to another place last week!  We may host some concerts here, but the space is not as big so we will have to keep them quite small.

Dha Te Te

This was a small house concert in celebration of the end of our tabla shivir.  I wish we had a harmonium player, but the lehra machine had to work.  Here is a clip of the Delhi kaida, Dha te te Dha te te.  More to come of the sitar portion of the concert, I am editing it right now.

Tabla Camp Underway!

We are having a blast this week with the CWM tabla camp.  More to come later but here is a photo of some of today’s practice.

Chalan, Hindi/Urdu, and compositional forms.

Two things have inspired this post: 1) I have been practicing a famous chalan made popular by Thirakwa Khan Saheb and 2) I am studying lots of Hindi lately.  Paired together, I have been thinking about the nature of tabla compositions in terms of genre (if we can really call it that).  There are many different types of compositions in tabla, e.g., kaida, rela, laggi, tukra, chalan, etc., and each has its own characteristic, but a character that is sometimes very hard to define uniformly.  Some call a particular composition a kaida while other call it a chalan.  In fact, I have heard that Thirakwa Khan Saheb himself was not so strict on the names of different types of compositions.

In looking at some descriptions and definitions of tabla compositions on the Internet, it struck me that these attempts were coming close to what Amartya Sen calls the “curatorial” side of colonial scholarship on India.  This was the effort of colonial scholars in India to classify and define all aspects of Indian society in order to display them in a book, museum, or some other source with a curator.  So with this in mind, the need to classify and strictly define all types of tabla compositions could be viewed as an ideal that originates outside the realm of Indian Classical music, i.e., outside of the very mindset that harbors such a fluid art form.  Furthermore, rigid classification might actually go against the fluidity and flexibility inherent to Hindustani music.

When we utilize language as a signifier of what these compositions mean, I think we can come to a better place in understanding tabla compositions without rigidly classifying them.  For example: kaida in Hindi/Urdu literally means “rule.”  And in this way, a kaida is a compositional form in tabla that establishes rules of how to develop a composition.  Laggi, another type of composition in tabla, comes from the word lagatar, meaning continuously.  Thus, laggi compositions describe a set of bols (patterns of tabla sounds) that are played in a continuous fashion.  This is different from rela however.  Of the few stories on how the word and compositional type, rela, came about, one popular idea comes from the notion that it originated from relgari, the Hindi/Urdu word for train.  There is another idea though, that rela came from the Urdu expression, rela aya, which signifies a gushing of water, like when a damn breaks and water gushes from the source.  The latter, to me, linguistically speaking, helps clarify what rela describes better than any other description.  And really, I think that the names of these compositional forms, are just that: descriptions of the sounds and compositions of tabla.  In the spirit of Hindustani classical music I do not think these forms are intended to be so rigid that require exact definitions.

Having said all that, I return to my initial inquiry, chalan.  Coming from the word chalna, meaning to move, chalan in Hindi/Urdu means movement.  In this description then, a chalan is different from a kaida insofar that it does not establish a rule for development, it is rather, a movement.  In light of what I wrote above, it seems that chalan is just a way to linguistically describe the sequence of tabla sounds, and not a compositional genre that needs definition and rigid parameters to understand.

Finally, here is the beautiful chalan that inspired this post (performed here by Anindo Ji and his son Anubrata). The chalan actually starts at around minute 2:20, but is recited by Anindo Ji at 2:30.

Ustad Asad Ali Khan

Ustad Asad Ali Khan was one the great Rudra Veena players of our time, so his recent death is a huge loss to the world of Hindustani Classical music.  While his forefathers were court musicians in Jaipur, Rampur, and other North Indian Courts, he himself was a 7th generation musician.  He was never married, but adopted a son, Zaki Haidar, who was also a disciple of his.  Another disciple of his was Bikramjeet Das of Kolkata.

There are not many Rudra Veena players in India left, at least not as there where in times previous, and as I reflect on Ustad ji’s life and music, I am reminded once again of the depth and scope inherent in Indian Music. And although Rudra Veena’s popularity in general may be declining, to witness the accomplishments of today’s living masters of other instruments (sitar, santoor, tabla, vocals, etc.) is extraordinary.  I say this, because instead of focusing on what is changing in Indian Classical Music (i.e., what is lost), it is sometimes more beneficial to look at what is gained from previous efforts.  And what better way to look at Ustad ji’s life than through the lens of how his accomplishments helped shape the music of today’s performers.

As I head off for a practice session myself on this eve of Guru Purnima, through reflecting on Ustad ji’s life, I give pranaam to all the great musicians who have worked so hard to develop this wonderful and boundless music.

Raga Bhopali and Zohrabai Agrewali

I received an email today about a new website called, Ragas4u (www.ragas4u.com).  At first glance it looks like a fantastic site filled with many resources for both the layman and the advanced.  I went to the Raga Bhopali section and decided to give some of the exercises a go–it had me there for almost an hour practicing and listening to all the examples and then exploring other youtube posts on Bhopali.  This is led me to the recording of Zohrabai Agrewali on youtube singing Bhopali.  I have heard her name before as an important figure in Hindustani classical music, but I never had the chance to hear anything.  I also read the small article on Wikipedia and am now really intrigued about her life.  She died young at 45 years of age (1868-1913) and was apart of an older generation of court patronage while representing the decreasing  lives of courtesan singers in North India.  In the 19th century and before, courtesans were one of the main culture bearers of Hindustani music, and to listen to these recordings is like a flash, or a shimmer, of a completely different era of India’s classical music.

I also found a small tribute to her on ITC’s site here: http://www.itcsra.org/tribute.asp?id=3 Here, there are even more clips of her singing.

“Born in 1868, Zohra Bai of the Agra Gharana, or Zohra Bai Agrewali as she came to be known as, was easily the best female singer at the turn of the 19th century. She had her talim from Ustad Sher Khan, nephew of Ghagge Khuda Baksh who imported Khayal from Gwalior. She had her subsequent talim from Ustad Kallan Khan and Mehboob Khan (Daras Piya), the great composer of Khayals and even Thumris, a fact, which is not very well known even to members of Agra Gharana.

Known equally for Khayal as well as lighter varieties of classical music, she learnt Thumri and Ghazals from Ahmad Khan of Dacca. Her many records going back to the first twenty years of the last century have not yet dated, unlike records of some of her contemporaries. It is said that Faiyaz Khan the greatest Ustad of the Agra Gharana, and possibly of this time in India, was also influenced by Zohra Bai`s style of singing. The famed Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan of the Patiala Gharana also held her in very high esteem.

Zohra Bai died in 1913.”

(from: http://www.itcsra.org/tribute.asp?id=3)

Pandit Mahapurush Mishra

What an artist!  I have been enjoying listening to Mahapurush Mishra Ji’s youtube clips recently and wanted to know more about his life.  Here is a short biography of him that I found on the internet.  I wish there was more on his life somewhere though–I want to order Aban Mistry’s book, Tabla and Pakhawaj soon so I can supplement some of these online biographies with the knowledge she gathered for that book.

“Pandit Mahapurush Mishra (1932-1987) was a disciple of Pandit Anokhelal Mishra, a revered master of Tabla. Mahapurush was a famous Tabla accompanist to many topmost musicians and a professor at the Ali Akbar College of Music in Calcutta (now Kolkata). He spent most of his time during the late 1960s in USA teaching, recording, and appearing widely in numerous classical music concerts. There are far too few of his Tabla solos in circulation. However, this solo album of Pandit Mahapurush Mishra, a very rare-of-its-kind, is an invariably spectacular display of his virtuosity and musicality, which he is renowned for.

Longtime Tabla master, sideman to the stars, and Ustad Ali Akbar Khan’s main accompanist throughout the better part of three decades until his death, Pandit Mahapurush Mishra has also appeared on the Beatles b-side of Lady Madonna, George Harrison’s The Inner Light (recorded in Bombay in January 1968 with the vocal tracks added in London the next month) as well as on Harrison’s Wonderwall soundtrack.”  (http://www.questz.com/artists/mahapurush-mishra)