World Music and the Closed Mind

There are extraordinarily talented Indian classically trained musicians who are feted only in the West. We don’t care for them, even treat them as “impure”. 

Tabla player Sandeep Das made an honest confession to me some time ago. The best known disciple of Pandit Kishan Maharaj in the world beyond India, he had murmured, “You know something? When I am in the West, newspaper reporters line up for interviews with me. Not that it matters to me. What is strange is that when I am in Delhi, some of my neighbours ask me what I do for a living.”

That was shocking, considering that Das who had made his first major stage debut at 10 with Pandit Ravi Shankar is among the few Indian musicians who have been nominated for the Grammy awards twice for his recordings in world music.

Having observed the developments in Hindustani classical music for years, I am convinced that Das’s dilemma isn’t his alone. If the average serious follower of the genre is asked to name the best tabla player from India, he, without thinking for a moment, would reply: “Ustad Zakir Hussain.” Should you ask him the name of the best sitarist India has ever produced, his instant answer would be, “Pandit Ravi Shankar.”

Such closed minds create an arbitrary hierarchy, resulting in rigid ideas about excellence. Any endeavour to counter their perspectives is futile. Asking them to listen to sitarist Pandit Nikhil Chakroborty for the captivating manner in which he introduced a raga to the listener leads to the same answer. “Yes, he was brilliant. But Pandit Ravi Shankar was way ahead.” Obsession with stardom being the solitary priority, rationality goes for a toss and analysis becomes meaningless.

The same mindset trashes world music after hearing a handful of albums which fail to convey the nature of challenges that artists need to face when they cross over to the other side of the musical fence. However, I do believe that some such listeners might have been a little less unkind while assessing the genre if our mainsteam media had not neglected Indian musicians who have delivered quality work in that eclectic musical space.

The soundtracks of films like Happy New Year are extensively reviewed, which is understandable since viewers who rush to the theatres and add Rs 200 crore to the producer’s bank balance constitute the majority of their readership. Grammy nominations for Indian musicians get coverage, but only if the artist responsible for the breaking news is already a star in India. Since the media is practically silent, the music industry responds with non-publication of all such music or low-profile releases that glitter on their catalogues but hardly sell.

The stars of course get preferential treatment. Zakir Hussain’s efforts with Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart weren’t ignored. Mohan veena player Vishwamohan Bhatt’s recording with legendary guitarist Ry Cooder didn’t escape attention either. Das is seen as somebody whose achievement has no news value.

People are aware that Hussain’s brothers, Taufiq in particular with Fazal not far behind, are hugely gifted musicians. But, the two of them are eclipsed by the aura of their eldest brother. That’s destiny, what else?

Taufiq carries what is usually refered to a “strange kind of drum” by most die-hard classical music followers. A classical musician of some repute had once told me that “his drum looks like a bigger version of Lord Shiva’s dumroo,” thus unveiling his ignorance and absence of curiosity with a shameless display of vanity.

Even though not many non-musicians  know the name of Taufiq’s instrument, the gentleman who had made this statement should have tried to find out that it is called djembe, a popular West African drum which the exciting percussionist has used in a manner which is typically his own. But, the fact is, he didn’t know. Contemptuous about improvisations, he simply didn’t care.

Tabla player Bickram Ghosh is as skilled as anybody one has heard, yet his collaborations are faint whispers among purists. Sarod player Aashish Khan’s work in world music is huge, the artist having worked with everybody right from Eric Clapton to the American jazz multi-instrumentalist John Handy. I am not very sure how many have viewed that part of his work seriously in India.

That gifted musicians who aren’t superstars like Hussain or Shankar experience disinterest in their collaborations is well known. Less frequently discussed is the fact even Hussain and Shankar have been far less successful in the Indian market whenever they have gone the world music way.

In the 1990s, an exquisitely composed Shankar venture had been released in India. Titled Tana Mana and featuring multi-dimensional performer-songwriter Al Kooper, percussionist Ray Cooper, Aashish Khan and tabla player Kumar Bose, the album disappeared: and not because it had been sold out.

I had a copy of Shankar, Family & Friends, a ‘duplicate’ cassette I had acquired for a princely sum of 50 rupees. The album had an army of musicians including Khan, Hari Prasad Chaurasia, Shivkumar Sharma, Billy Preston, Ringo Starr and Jim Keltner. It was a brilliant work of art in which the standout composition was the jazz funk instrumental Dispute & Violence. Today, the album has been practically forgotten by most devotees of Hindustani classical music. I am saying “most” because a few who are somewhat broad-minded might have heard it when it had been released. That the output was not “the real thing” is the reason why it has been forgotten.

In spite of social changes around us, it is difficult to understand why many listeners of genre-specific music view any such innovative collaborations with contempt even today. One argument is that Hindustani classical performers must not dilute their music. It might be worthwhile to ask from where the question of dilution arises, world music being an endeavour to connect with each other’s cultural identities that speaks a language of its own. Simply put, no composition can be a raga or a symphony. It is just music.

That the younger generation of listeners are becoming increasingly flexible makes me optimistic, although the bigger problem hasn’t been addressed as yet. The media needs to be kind, which it certainly isn’t. Even if an album wins or gets nominated for a Grammy which is a good enough reason to promote it, music companies refuse to take a chance.

Zakir Hussain attracts audiences because he is an extraordinary artist as well a great showman, but how many have bought his works with Mickey Hart? I can count the names of all those among my acquaintances who have on my fingers. That is bad news.