Maharashtra And Hindustani Music: A Short History Of A Love Affair

There’s a famous anecdote ascribed to a ‘buzurg Ustād’, a very senior classical vocalist, who, when he heard Pt. Bhāskarbuwā Bakhale sing, exclaimed, “Yeh dāl-chawal khānewālā Marhāti bamman itnā jabardast gānā kaise gā saktā hai?” (How can this Marāthi singer brought up on vegetarian food sing so well and so energetically?) Apparently, the typical Maharashtrian vegetarian fare, and also the Maharashtrian way of life, was looked down upon by the greats of classical music from up north. Note that this anecdote is from sometime in the dying years of 19th century. All the greats of classical music then had their own geographical territories defined and away from Maharashtra. One had to go to those far-away places to experience music of their respective styles. But it wasn’t long before these geographical barriers broke and Marāthi heartland started buzzing with musical ambience created by numerous artists from various styles of Indian Classical music.

It appears that classical music flourished more in Maharashtra and the adjoining areas (particularly north Karnataka and Goa) since early 1900s right through to the modern era.

But did it really? Or is that a mere perception? If it did, what contributed to this phenomenon?

It is a widely accepted belief that classical music has its roots in folk music. But then, every region of our country has its own unique tradition of regional music, Maharashtra is not special in any way. (In fact, if classical dance is considered as a parallel case in question, it may be noted that out of the eight dances officially recognized as “Indian Classical”, not a single one is from Maharashtra.) Why, then, has Indian Classical Music found a firm footing in this part of the country?

(Note – The fact that Maharashtra and Karnataka as have existed as “states” only since 1961 is a mere political reality and has no relevance to this discussion. The terms have been used in this article only to denote the geographical area, not as States as we recognize them today.)

An enquiry into roots of cultural facets can be a tricky pursuit, because it can easily run into blind alleys. Some answers can be obvious, such as those caused by geographical factors. After all, it is easy to understand why boat races happen in Kerala and camel fairs in Rajasthan; and not the other way around. But what about classical music? Does that have a geographical bias in India? And does that bias favour Maharashtra of all regions?

Consider this: Pt. Bālkrishnabuwā Ichalkaranjikar, the doyen of Gwalior Ghāranā (considered mother of all gāyaki styles, simply known as ‘Gharānā, in Hindustāni music) spent most of his life at Ichalkaranji near Kolhapur. Ust. Abdul Karim Khan saheb, the founder of Kirānā Gharānā stayed at Miraj. Or Ust. Allādiyā Khansaheb, the Khalifā of Jaipur Gharānā spent most of his life at Kolhapur. Ust. Amanali Khan (Bhendi-Bazār Gharānā) made Mumbai his home (as a matter of fact, the name of his gāyaki style takes after a small bustling area in the city then known as Bombay. Ust. Vilāyat Hussein Khan (Agra Gharānā) also lived in Mumbai for a better part of his life. Above all, Pt. Vishnu Digambar Paluskar, who single-handedly took Hindustani music right upto the Afghan border, made Nashik his home in his later years.

Because of this geographical peculiarity, most of the disciples of these stalwarts also came from Kolhapur, Sangli, Pune, Mumbai, Goa and present-day Karnataka’s border districts like Dharwad, Belgaum, Hubli, etc. ‘Sawāi Gandharv’ Pt. Rambhāu Kundgolkar, Pt. Bhāskarbuwā Bakhale, Vidushi Mogubāi Kurdikar, Vid. Kesarbāi Kerkar, the father-son duo of Pt. Antubuwā and Gajānanbuwā Joshi, Prof. BR Deodhar, Vid. Gangubāi Hangal, Pt. Basavrāj Rājguru, Pt. Puttaraj Gawai, Pt. Mallikārjun Mansoor had all made Maharashtra (more specifically Mumbai, Pune and aforementioned geographical area) their home.

If that wasn’t enough, let’s step out of the 19th and early-20th centuries and take a look at more contemporary artists: Pt. Jagannāthbuwā Purohit, Pt. CR Vyās, Pt. Bhimsen Joshi, Vid. Kishori Amonkar, Pt. Jitendra Abhisheki, Vid. Parveen Sultānā, Vid. Shobha Gurtu and a host of others have all made this Marathi heartland their home though they individually belong to places out of Maharashtra. Or consider a bevy of instrumental artists right from ‘Tablā-Nawāz’ Ust. Ahmedjān Thirakwā to Ust. Allā-Rakhā Khan saheb, sitār-maestro Ust. Vilāyat Khan saheb to flautist Pt. Hariprasād Chaurasia, Pt. Rām Nārāyan (Sārangi) or Santoor-pioneer Pt. Shivkumār Sharmā. All such top-class artists in Hindustāni music were drawn to Maharashtra like bees to a honeycomb!

This brings us to the important question – what is it that draws so many talented minds to this land that is otherwise known to be quite daunting (राकट देशा, कणखर देशा महाराष्ट्र देशा – this description of Maharashtra is from a widely popular Marathi poem loosely translated as “harsh, resolute land, that is Maharashtra)?

The reasons may be more down-to-earth and practical than we may imagine.

One needs to consider the socio-economic scenario around the turn of 19th century to understand the migration of all these great artists to Maharashtra and environs. Arts, especially performing arts, had conventionally flourished under royal patronage. That’s why you had the Mahārājā of Gwalior extending his aegis to vocalists right from Ust. Haddu-Hassu Khan to Pt. KS Pandit (and all their disciples as well) and the classical music style known as ‘Gwalior Gharānā’ came into existence. For that matter, the raison d’être for the Jaipur Gharānā was the royal patronage given by Chhatrapati Shāhu Mahārāj of Kolhapur to Ust. Allādiyā Khan. Similarly, many path-breaking seniors established themselves and flourished under different royalties in British-ruled India.

But the two world wars and India’s independence, progressively, changed all of that. With the privy purses abolished, the royalty was unable to maintain their own lifestyle in a number of cases. So, maintaining a ‘Rāj-Gāyak’ was out of question. As a result, it became a matter of survival for the artists. They consequently gravitated to places and areas where they could earn and sustain themselves. In any case, not all singers instrumentalists could get the honour of becoming a Rāj-Gāyak but they still had to make a living out of their art. The most natural answer to the situation was the cluster of commercially viable cities like Mumbai and Pune.

And what were those avenues that sustained all these artists for well over a century? The foremost was teaching music. Starting from the early 1900s, a large number of music schools came up in many cities, small and large, across Maharashtra. Some of the best known institutions imparting knowledge in music (both vocal and instrumental) graced the Marathi social scene. This included the Gāndharv Mahāvidyālay, Prof. Deodhar’s School of Indian Music, and, the Bhārat Gāyan Samāj, to name just a few. Whether this was a cause or an effect, that is, whether “more teachers led to more students” or vice versa could be a chicken and egg story and we will leave the reader to ponder upon it.

Along with teaching music, another favourite vocation taken up by musicians was playing and recording for the flourishing film industry. The obvious centres for this work were Mumbai (Hindi films), Pune, and Kolhapur (Marathi films). Although films did not provide a permanent / secure employment, the artists received enough assignments to keep them occupied at least eight months in a year. This was more relevant for the instrumentalists, since classical vocalists considered it beneath their dignity to sing for films. Instruments though, provided an anonymity and so, not only did the artists work without feeling ashamed, but enjoyed it as well.

Some of the most reputed names such as Mst. Krishnarāo, Keshavrāo Bhole or, in more recent times, Ust. Allāh Rākhā, Pt. Rām Nārāyan, Ust. Vilāyat Khan, Ust. Sultan Khan, Ust. Raees Khan, Pt. Shiv Kumar Sharma (how many people know that the Santoor-maestro has played Tabla for ‘Piyā tose nainā lāge re’ and ‘Mose chhal kiye jāy’ from Guide?) have been associated with the film industry very closely for years and some of them have even composed score for Hindi / Marathi films independently.

At the turn of the century, one more domain started attracting many a classical artist’s attention and it was performing before a microphone for record-labels that were coming up in western and eastern India. The biggest to set up shop was His Master’s Voice (HMV), later to become Gramophone Co. of India and currently known as ‘SāReGaMa’, It had one of its major recording centres at Mumbai (the other being Kolkata). Initially, the artists were a little apprehensive.

But soon, they caught on to the bandwagon and were only too happy to flaunt the label of an ‘HMV Artist’. Some of the artists were recorded so prolifically on popular demand that their financial future was secured through royalty payments for life. Moreover, as the buyers for recorded discs multiplied in tier-II and III cities, the concert invitations to these artists also grew significantly. Having recorded for a label like HMV, therefore, gave the artists dual benefits.

The year 1923 then saw the establishment of the Radio Club in Mumbai. This event set off a chain reaction and by 1930, the All India Radio (later christened as ‘Ākāshwāņi’ in independent India) came into existence. Soon, broadcasting became another attractive option for musicians. This medium had a far more profound impact than record-labels and a much larger reach across the length and breadth of the country. Recording for radio, therefore, was much more prestigious. Once again, Mumbai (later cities like Pune, Dharwad, Nagpur, etc. as well) was the hub of all activities related to classical music.

It also helped matters that genuine music aficionados were at the helm of affairs then; M/s Dinkar Amembal, KD Dikshit, Seetākānt Lād, only to name a few. In one of his memoirs, late P. L. Deshpande, the prolific writer-stage-film personality, fondly recalls how the office of Shri. Dikshit always appeared to be less of an office and more of an informal, non-stop mehfil.

Broadcasting also paid well and it added to an artist’s available sources of earning. An invitation to perform at a ‘Radio Sangeet Sammelan’ was considered prestigious and also provided a sizeable purse. ‘HMV-Artist’ and ‘Radio-Star’, therefore, became much sought-after qualifications and it was no wonder that most of the artists were drawn to them and ultimately to the aforementioned cities in Maharashtra.

Additionally, we have to take into account one more socio-cultural factor prevalent in Maharashtra to understand the attraction of this land to the classical music artists.

Marāthi Sangeet Rangbhoomi (operatic theatre with music as an integral part of story-telling) had been flourishing in Maharashtra since its renaissance in 1882. This form of theatre used folk and classical music as the basis for compositions sung on stage. In fact, artists like Sawāi Gandharv, Pt. Bhāskarbuwā Bakhale, Ust. Ahmedjān Thirakwā, Pt. Mallikārjun Mansoor and many more from this generation were directly involved with it either as singer-actors or music composers. Their involvement had a distinct impact on popular music in Maharashtra; so much so that music on Marathi stage borrowed heavily from Hindustani classical.

Going a step further, sangeet nātak simplified the classical format to a listener-friendly version of classical music with verse that was catchy and distinctly appealing at once. People thronged in thousands to enjoy this form of theatre and sangeet nātak thus created many a legend. Artists like ‘Bālgandharv’ Narayan S. Rājhans, Mst. Deenānāth Mangeshkar, and Keshavrāo Bhosale are revered even by today’s generation. Many famous compositions from this domain (popularly called ‘pad’) are based on classical bandishes. At least half-a-dozen generations of music artists and audiences have been brought up on the staple diet of nātya-sangeet in Maharashtra.

The Golden Era of Marathi music theatre may well be long gone, but the huge popularity of ‘Katyār Kāljāt Ghusli’ (a recent movie that is an adaptation of a sangeet nātak by the same name) bears enough testimony to the widespread following of this unique Marāthi music genre.

It will certainly be interesting to check out some examples of how nātya-sangeet borrowed heavily on Hindustāni classical compositions and presented them in an attractive and listener-friendly manner. The first such example is an immensely popular pad, ‘Mam Sukhāchi Thev’ sung by Bālgandharv from the 1916-play ‘Sangeet Swayamwar’. Based on an iconic composition in Rāg Tilak-Kāmod by composer Pt. Bhāskarbuwā Bakhale, you can listen to both the pad and bandish by clicking the links below –

‘Soor Sangat Rāg Vidyā’ in Rāg Tilak-Kāmod by Late Pt. Mallikārjun Mansoor -

‘Mam Sukhāchi Thev’ by ‘Bālgandharv’ Late Nārāyan S. Rājhans -

Another evergreen piece, incidentally from the same 100-year old play ‘Sangeet Swayamwar’, is based on a bandish in Rāg Bhoop. The one-and-only Bālgandharv immortalized this composition in his inimitable style and it is considered to be a challenging song by artists even today. Listen to the Bhoop bandish (in the voice of Late Pt. Vasantrāo Deshpānde) and ‘Sujan Kasā Man Chori’ in the golden voice of Kumār Gandharv here

‘Phoolawan Sej Sawāroon’ in Rāg Bhoop by Late Pt. Vasantrāo Deshpānde -

‘Sujan Kasā Man Chori’ by Late Kumār Gandharv -

One more example from a comparatively modern Marāthi Sangeet nātak is from the 1972 play ‘He Bandh Reshamāche’. Smt. Shāntā Shelke, the renowned poet-lyricist, penned the lyrics for composer Pt. Jitendra Abhisheki on a tappā in Rāg Kāfi-Sindhurā. The result was, as it turned out, was spectacularly melodious! Listen to the original tappā and the composition from the play here –

‘Ho Parindā’, Tappā in Kāfi-Sindhurā by Vijay Koparkar –

‘Āj Sugandh’ from ‘He Bandh Reshamānche’ by Pt. Vasantrāo Deshpānde -

Interestingly, Hindi film music also used classical bandishes straight out of the box. One such ‘top-of-the-mind’ recall is this song composed by the popular duo Shankar-Jaikishan for the 1955 film ‘Seemā’ and sung by (who else?) Lata Mangeshkar. To be precise, this is not a classical bandish but a film song presented in the format of classical music. Even so, the influence of Hindustani music here cannot be missed.

Besides providing earning potential to a number of artists, the sangeet nātak also laid the foundation for generations of music lovers (‘Kānsen’s as we would like to refer to them) who could then easily graduate to serious listening of classical music. Since sangeet-nātak had reached even the smallest of the towns, Kānsens existed all over Maharashtra, and once they had tasted the flavor of pure music, the demand for classical music concerts and artists automatically grew at a much faster clip compared to any other geographical region in India.

More often, a ‘theatre-tour’ (sequence of plays staged in different cities over an extended period) was followed by a ‘concert tour’ for the same cities. With travel arrangements becoming increasingly easier and elaborate, artists from the later generations became more and more adept at creating and exploiting these additional earning opportunities.

With nātya-sangeet ‘democratizing’ classical music for masses, Maharashtra’s rich cultural canvas also gave rise to a unique phenomenon that does not have a parallel anywhere in the country (except perhaps the ‘Pujo Festival’ in Bengal)—the 10-day ‘Ganeshotsav’. Following Lokmanya Tilak’s initiative, Pune’s 10-day virtual musical extravaganza featuring top-class artists became a standard pattern for other cities to follow. This created such a demand during the ‘Ganapati-Festival’ that artists’ dates used to get booked almost a year in advance. This socio-cultural trend also spilled over to more socio-religious occasions that became permanently associated with classical music concerts.

And it doesn’t end yet. Two other factors also contributed to nurturing a ‘culture of music’ in Maharashtra. They are entwined into each other in such a way that it will take a separate enquiry to see which one preceded and led to the other, and we only mention them as a passing thought.

About the same time that Sangeet nātak was scaling the heights of popularity in Maharashtra, a new genre of light music evolved here, which, once again, probably has no equivalent in the rest of India. Commonly called ‘bhāv-geet’, these were essentially poems that were sung with musical embellishments. They were generally stand-alone lyrics and didn’t belong to any play or a movie. They were just, poems. Very much akin to a ‘nazm’ in Urdu.

A whole cult of bhāv-geet singers dominated Maharashtra for nearly half a century - Gajānanrāo Wātve, Babanrāo Nāvdikar, Mālti Pānde, Mānik Varmā, just to name a few, are probably the most celebrated amongst all these. But the undisputed emperor of Marāthi bhāv-geet certainly was Sudheer Phadke, a.k.a. ‘Bābuji’.

Bhāv-geet became a household phenomenon and compositions like ‘Rādhe Tujhā Sail Ambādā’, ‘Toch Chandramā Nabhāt’ or ‘Angani Gulmohar Phulalā’ were on the lips of every housewife in practically every Marāthi home. Needless to say, most of these compositions had lasting literary values and a firm base in classical music. The bhāv-geet cult arguably reached its peak in 1955 with Sudheer Phadke’s presentation of the immortal ‘Geet Rāmāyan’ - a specially commissioned lyrical presentation of Rāmāyan through 56 poems penned by GD Mādgulkar!

Once again, the credit for this enduring all-time-great collection goes to All India Radio. ‘Geet Rāmāyan’, now a part of Marathi psyche for over six decades, was originally broadcast as a weekly radio feature. Listen to each song and you will see how classical music has effectively been presented in a most appealing, listener-friendly and impactful manner with compositions based on rāg-matrices. Those interested can listen to the entire set of original broadcast tracks at this link.

The other phenomenon which only supported this bhāv-geet movement was that Marathi poets of those days invariably had a grooming in music. They were also highly aware of the lyrical value of their verse. In their published work, they mentioned not just the vritta (meter of the poem) but also a specific rāg and tāl (rhythm format) to sing the poem with. This, although not unique to Marāthi, certainly was a push in the right direction for readers and performers who chose that verse. Two pages from old Marathi poetry books bear testimony to this - the famous ‘Tethe Kar Mājhe Julati’ by BB Borkar and ‘Ghat Bhare Pravāhi’ by BR Tāmbe. However, with the advent of ‘Mukt-Chhand’ (free-form-verse) in the post-modern era of Marāthi literature, poets seem to have lost this approach to lyricism!

A wonderful cumulative effect of all these socio-cultural factors led to fertile, ready-to-receive and creative audiences in Maharashtra and made this a very attractive land for performing artists from across the country. And the allure of ever-expanding commercial opportunities was the clinching factor, leading to their migration to cities like Mumbai, Pune, Kolhapur, etc. Considering all these arguments, we are naturally led to the conclusion that it was more for the artists’ own survival and commercial convenience that Maharashtra’s musical canvas became so densely dotted with such towering personalities. The Marathi socio-cultural background did definitely encourage them to settle down here by offering decent livelihood opportunities but, the ‘Marāthi Impact’ on Hindustāni classical music is constrained to that extent.