Ravi Shankar:
Sitar Maestro
Text and photo:
Thakur Paramjit, Chandigarh
e-mail: thakurparamjit@yahoo.co.uk
July 29, 2005
(This
story first appeared in October 2002 in Winds, the in-flight magazine of
Japan Airlines.)
Far
and away the best-known Indian musician in the West is the sitar player
and composer Ravi Shankar. More than any other individual, Ravi Shankar
has in his long career helped Western audiences gain an insight into the
spiritual depths and melodic brilliance of his country's music. The winner
of countless honors and awards, he picked up his third Grammy Award for
the album Full Circle/Carnegie Hall 2000.
The great Indian
musician talks to Thakur Paramjit.
How did
it feel winning your third Grammy Award?
When you get
any award, whether a world-famous or local one, you feel very honored.
But I felt very happy when I got that Grammy Award. It carries a special
significance as it is given only for musical excellence. The first time
I got it was in 1966, but that was more for experimental work with different
international artists. The present one was particularly for a classical
concert that I gave in Carnegie Hall.
It was a live
recording. I don't make many of these because in Indian music we improvise
and are informal. So it is very difficult in a live situation as you have
to edit a lot later. That is why I prefer to record in a studio. But this
time it worked very well. We had very little work to do afterwards because
the two hours of the concert didn't need much shortening. I was very happy
with it.
Which award
has given you the greatest pleasure?
It is difficult
to say. For some moments, for a few days, any award gives you a warm feeling
inside, and people come and congratulate you. The press gives it wide publicity.
But after a few weeks or months, everyone forgets about it; even I forget
about it. Ultimately, the main thing that counts for me is performing,
when I am in front of the public and get their immediate reaction and appreciation.
That is extremely satisfying for me.
What differences
do you see in the classical music of India and that of the West?
Indian classical
music does not give much importance to harmony and chords. We work mostly
with melody and improvisation. Western music has done away with the tradition
of improvisation: it is all composed and written down by the great composers.
It is played exactly to those lines, varying according to a particular
artiste’s interpretation, which of course makes a big difference. Indian
music has evolved very gradually through the creative gifts of innovative
artists. Since the advent of radio and the gramophone during the last 60
or 70 years, the changes have been so much faster. Classical Indian and
Western music are great in their own ways of expression and are regarded
as such by their own bands of listeners. Since Westerners understand their
music better and are more used to it, naturally they prefer it, just as
Indians like their own music more.
Would you
say that Indian music is the music of the heart and Western music that
of the mind?
Not really,
since the heart is also there in Western music: without it, it wouldn't
touch you. By one stroke of the bow, some Western musicians can make you
feel like crying. So the heart has to be there, whatever the style of music.
You are
famous for having popularized Indian music in the West.
I started
propagating our music in a very organized form about 50 years ago. Luckily,
I succeeded because when I started there were no other musicians in India
who could communicate or explain that music. Many of them had traveled
to the West, but their whole attitude was wrong. They would, for example,
play a particular raga for one or two hours, without realizing they were
playing for an audience that did not know anything about the music. So
Western audiences thought our music boring and believed it could never
touch them. In spite of the fact that Indian music has so much feeling,
it did not get through.
From about
the age of 10 to 18, I performed with my brother, Uday Shankar, whom I
consider one of my gurus in the sense that he taught me. Paris was the
headquarters of our dance company, and we worked in the United States,
Europe, Asia and other places. We had great musicians in our troupe. During
this period, I keenly listened to our music and observed the reaction of
audiences on hearing it. This critical analysis helped me to decide what
we should give to Western audiences to make them really respect and appreciate
Indian music.
Presentation
is very important. I tried to give Western listeners the right proportion,
the right rate. But I never compromised on style, I never compromised in
giving them anything un-Indian in a bid to please them. All I did was to
reduce the duration. Instead of one or two ragas in two or three hours,
I played maybe four ragas within two hours, with an intermission and explained
to them the ascending and descending of a particular raga, what mood it
creates, whether it belongs to the morning or evening, whether it belongs
to spring or the rainy season and so forth. The result could be seen immediately.
They could understand and accept our music.
When you
popularized the sitar in the West, it was exported in large numbers to
those countries.
Yes. It became
very popular all of a sudden mostly after George Harrison became my student
in the summer of 1966. Just before that, he had been listening to me and
was very attracted to the sitar. He used it in the Beatles song ‘Norwegian
Wood.’ I was touring all over Europe and America and I noticed that more
and more younger people were coming to my performances. It was the start
of the old hippie movement, and gradually the sitar became popular. I had
already been fairly well known, but from around 1965 or so I became more
like something of a pop star. After George used the sitar in ‘Norwegian
Wood,’ other pop groups also started with it, and some tried attaching
electronic devices to it or experimented with the shape. But those efforts
didn’t work out. It was like a new fad. When there is something new
and it becomes a success, everybody tries to do it sometimes for a few
weeks, months or maybe a couple of years.
You have
performed with Japanese musicians. How do you compare the traditional styles
of Indian and Japanese music?
Since my childhood,
Japan has always held a special attraction for me. I appreciate the
Japanese ability to preserve their culture from the onslaught of modernization
or Westernization. Though Japan has changed a lot since I first saw it,
I appreciate the Japanese ability to control both their own culture and
Western culture in a very balanced way. When the Japanese entered the field
of electronics, they surpassed everyone. But they don’t deserve praise
for their technological advances alone. I have seen their manners, their
etiquette, their love for flowers, their love for cars, their love for
beauty and the way of their life. These are the things which I appreciate
very much.
After I had
been traveling for some time, I heard the shakuhachi and koto, and I started
admiring Japanese music also. I felt that their traditional music was played
in a modal structure - a structure which follows scaled sequence of notes
in ascending and descending order. Their songs are composed in structures
that resemble some of our ragas. It happened that I met Hozan Yamamoto,
the shakuhachi player, and Susumu Miyashita, the koto player, and I was
inspired to do a recording with them. I composed specially for them using
some of our ragas, which have some modal structures that the Japanese musicians
could use. And I had my accompanists with me, including the wonderful tabla
player Allah Rakha, at that time, and it worked out very well. I called
the album ‘East Greets East,’ and it is one of my favorite efforts. I am
seldom happy with my own compositions: afterwards I always think I could
have done better. But I was very happy with this one.
How did
you begin to devote yourself to the sitar?
As I said,
I was with the troupe of my brother, Uday, who was a famous dancer. So,
naturally, I was initially introduced to dance. Right from the beginning,
I was lucky to be in the company of wonderful musicians. They didn’t teach
me, but I listened. I had a natural flair for picking up anything and just
by myself I used to try my hand on the sitar, sarod, flute and tabla in
addition to dancing. But when Baba Allaudin Khan, my guru, joined sometime
in 1935 he immediately took interest in my training. He told me I had plenty
of talent, but that I needed to do a lot of regular practice. I was trying
so many things, and he wanted me to concentrate on one. He advised me to
master the sitar as he thought I was best suited for this instrument.
Over the years,
I have tried to follow the whole gamut of our music, not just emphasize
one aspect. I have covered everything from very slow to very fast music,
very deep to very light, very frivolous to very philosophical. From the
outset, I have been gifted with an ability to improvise. When I do a particular
piece of music, I immediately think of how I might make five variations
of it. Improvisation is only composing on the spot.
Traditionally,
the Indian guru taught music orally to his disciples. With changing lifestyles,
the number of devoted disciples is dwindling. How do you view the future
of Indian music?
We are at
a crossroads. It is a very difficult time and I am a bit concerned. But
a lot of good things are happening. I see a fantastic amount of talent
in the young generation - people are so talented that they pick up systems
of music very quickly. We see young boys and girls playing the sitar, flute,
violin, drums or tabla - any instrument. Such advancement, all of a sudden,
is a good sign. Some of them have had good teaching by a competent guru
or a senior performer, and I think those are the ones who might be able
to carry it on. My only worry, however, is that these days many young people
want to do it all so very quickly: it seems that they instantly want to
make a name for themselves, to travel and become celebrities.
Can you
tell us something about your experiments as a composer?
Improvisation
and composition are basically the same thing; composition is something
which you think and put it down in writing. You may either play it yourself
or someone else plays it. I have always been interested in composing. I
started my experimentation when I was in the Indian People’s Theatre Association
(IPTA) in 1945. I composed Sare Jahan Se Accha, which is a kind
of national song. During that period, I did my first film music also.
People think
that I brought Western music and Eastern music together; I never did that.
My sole purpose was to utilize non-Indian music. Two sitars playing together
sound terrible. As solo instruments, our instruments are great, but, they
have certain limitations. So I wanted to try working with Western instruments
and experiment with non-Indian music - even though this went against the
grain with many traditionalists. But I never tried to do anything Western,
such as rock music. Even in jazz, I found certain things that are similar
to Indian rhythms. So I worked with some jazz musicians and played some
Indian folk music with them. These were my sole intentions, not to leave
the orbit of Indian music - the raga, tala, folk tunes and so on. I worked
within Indian music, but the sound and sometimes the musicians were not
Indian. So I have carried out a number of experiments that have been accepted
by other people; they have copied them and so I am glad I did them.
Out of your
numerous performances, which one gave you the highest satisfaction?
That is very
difficult to say because I am 82 now and I have been performing since 1939
- for 63 years. So out of that time, there are at least 20 or 25 particularly
memorable things. Like once when I was playing for the seer Kashi Shankaracharya.
We were sitting under a tree, and no one else was there. It was just me
playing for him. Or it could have been playing in Carnegie Hall. There
are so many, and so it is very difficult to pinpoint them.
Do you feel
that age is adversely affecting how you practice or is there a little less
vigor in your recitals?
I perform
much less now and do special concerts only and not for long hours. Previously,
I used to play continuously for eight hours or nine hours, which I can’t
do now. But, by the grace of God, I am still performing.
What is
the secret of your success?
Well I consider
it my great privilege, my great luck and, more than anything else, I believe
in the blessings of my guru and God.
Thakur
Paramjit is a well-known writer/photographer based in Chandigarh.
He contributes articles and pictures to national and international magazines
on various subjects including performing arts and culture. He can
be contacted at +91-172-2725641 (landline) and +91-94172-10101 (mobile). |