Tuesday, July 29, 2008

An article on Ravikiran

http://www.newindpress.com/sunday/sundayitems.asp?id=SEA20080719112042&eTitle=Arts&rLink=0
Dancing to Different Melodies
ANIL SRINIVASAN

So everyone is talking about China and India. I remember every discussion in business school having both these names mentioned as though they were one phrase, like “salt and pepper”. And that is where the divergence begins to grate on my sensibilities, because no two systems of thought could be more different. Separated by a stretch of mountain, glacial systems and desert, these two neighbours have progressed to the accompaniment of different rhythmic clocks. So much so that our musical systems share very few aspects in common. However, a slightly deeper analysis of the musical structures in authentic Chinese melodies reveals certain amazing coincidences.


The Youlan (by Confucius) is supposed to be the earliest chronicled musical work in Chinese musical literature. Listening to it being rendered with a Yanqin (our “santoor”) and the pipa (a fretless lute) brings forth a certain set of characteristics that hold a common ground. For instance, the prevalence of melody set to a certain rhythm cycle (Chinese music seems to have an abundance of 3, 4 and 7 count cycles– tishram, chatushram and mishram respectively) is similar to classical forms everywhere, particularly ours. The melodic tone used (usually whole tones, avoiding chromatics or sharp notes) reminds me very much of scale-changes on the Carnatic raga “Mohanam”. Shifting the opening note of Raga Mohanam brings forth new ragams – Madhyamavati, Hindolam, Shudda Sarang and so on. All of these ragams (and some more, such as Shudda Saveri) have pentatonic systems. These magical five notes can evoke moods, variations in ambience and a wealth of musical textures. Both the Chinese and the Indian music systems have honed in on these notes and their incumbent variations.

However, at least to a mind untrained to look beyond such superficial resemblances, this is where the bridge collapses. While the Indian classical music systems have traversed great distances into the ocean of sound, I find that Chinese music treats improvisation with less importance than an adherence to form and discipline. There is freedom in the use of form and melodic line in the Indian imagination, which somehow seems a trifle curtailed across the border. This is interesting given where the influences of each of these musical systems (Indian and Chinese) come from. While spiritual antecedents, hymnal chanting and a detailed codification and indigenous grammar characterized South Indian classical music, the North Indian forms gathered influences from foreign incursions, notably from Persia and Central Asia. Some of these Central Asians have influenced the Chinese as well, probably evidenced by the pentatonic melodies common across our borders. However, the entry of the Western musicians (first in the 17th Century in China, and later through much of the Cultural Revolution and the rise of communism) has seen regimentation in Chinese music with respect to form and content. Indeed, most large Chinese cities boast of symphony orchestras of a standard comparable to those in New York or Vienna. However, the emphasis is more on structure.

I am certainly not trying to paint a certain system of musical thought in an inferior light. Indeed, I am ill-equipped to judge another melodic system without a more in-depth analysis of its rudiments and structural character. However, when I think of Yo-Yo Ma (the renowned cellist) or Lang Lang ( a world famous western classical pianist), I see the indelible influence of the West.
Certain structural characteristics of the Western classical form must have appealed to the revolutionary Chinese in the mid-20th century. Collective adherence to form (in the case of ensemble playing or orchestral arrangements) and interpreting music strictly by design (using the composer as the guide, and restricting the scope for individual self-expression) seems to be reflective of a culture that was trying to establish discipline and a common code of cultural discovery. In India, just as in every other sphere of human endeavour, the triumph of multiplicity and individualist notions seems apparent in music as well.

Perhaps the China that is now gearing itself globally in terms of its economics will embrace a more individualist spirit, and these will be exciting times for Indian musicians to collaborate freely and enrich the cultural template of this part of the world, especially material drawn from the folk traditions of the two countries.

For now, I am content keeping the two systems of musical thought separate. Copyright New Sunday Express

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Rahmania

The Indian Musical Spirit
ANIL SRINIVASAN

I am going to gush about A R Rahman in this article. Not just because he is the most talented music director and arranger on the block but just simply because he has done us all a phenomenal service – he has proven that we can, as a nation of music-loving, music-making people, find a delicate balance. This is not merely a balancing of styles, tastes and preferences but of perspectives. He has made it possible for us to have the music of our times presented in such a well-organized, classy package. No fuss or frills, but well-conceived music delivered with aplomb. It manages the quintessential amount of lyrical classicism with absolutely edgy, grip-the-corner-of-your-seat contemporaneity. Listening to his music makes me think of yellow autos on New York streets, and skyscrapers reaching the sky in Mylapore all at once. The beauty lies in the fact that Rahman makes such zany collages seem plausible.

I am listening to the track “Kabhi Kabhi Aditi” from Jaane Tu.. on my personal stereo. It is peppy and uplifting. However, what I love about it is its ability to traverse across style and mindsets. It has a moving bass that can appeal to the younger audience, a tidily crafted melodic line that can move the more musically oriented and it has lyrics that are clean, crisply rendered and quite adorable. The overall effect, including the detailing of various nuances of Rashid Ali’s voice (who, if he is reading this, should know he has found a very loyal fan) in the repetitive alaaps in the end are precisely monitored.

I do not know if everyone agrees with this observation, but Rahman is not merely a craftsman representing our spirit. He is the spirit. This is India now, a microcosm of several styles and cultures peppered with tradition and bursting with confidence. This is the India that moves on horizontal time, each individual leading multiple lives and careers. It is the India that believes in possibilities and alternatives, and no longer rushes to linear conclusions to every decision problem. Each of these Indias find an echo in Rahman’s music score. With their juxtapositions of different styles, the mixtures of varied voices and the ever-present surprise element in each song ( a guitar riff that sounds different, a voice that sounds unique or an instrument one does not associate with a certain mood), Rahman’s music truly accompanies the rhythms of our extremely colourful modern-day reality. When Rahman attempts a remix (try “Pon Magal Vandhal” from Azhagiya Tamizh Magan), it still exceeds expectations. A classical infusion (like, “Narumugaye” from Iruvar) works equally well, and an all-out ‘dance the night away’ number (like a “Fanaa” from Yuva) proves difficult to dismiss easily.

When I saw the publicity material for Bombay Dreams near Columbus Circle in New York two years ago, my heart gave a lurch. On that unaccustomed earth, with the wind swirling the temperature down to sub zero, I still felt my face grow warm watching the Broadway crowd crowding up to get tickets to watch an Indian production. Having lived in the United States at a time that world attitude towards all things Indian gradually went through a transformation (from “poor nation with potential” to “knowledge experts and entertainment gurus”), I found Rahman’s music to be a fitting companion score to India’s zeitgeist.

In my ongoing crusade to excite more composers of original sound, and the need for Indian musicians ( classical, film, whatever) to expose themselves to as many global influences and thought processes as possible, I find myself returning to Rahman’s music as perhaps the most important development in Indian sound in a long time. India is a truly global player and its music should be elevated to the greatest heights possible. With our own, extremely evolved classical grammar and our natural curiosity to adapt and assimilate with the global community, I think that the possibilities for Indian music are as expansive as our collective imagination.

Copyright New Sunday Express