Classical Music
THE ENJOYMENT OF CLASSICAL MUSIC
- by Colonel R.S. Alvar (Retd)
- January 18th, 2022
How does one get hooked onto Classical Music in the first place? True, there is music in every soul and there is hardly a person who remains totally unresponsive in the face of a good melody. But the numbers of lovers of classical music is miniscule compared to those who flock to listen to lighter forms of music such as pop, rock, jazz, filmi geet or movie songs, sugam sangeet or light music, ghazals etc. Why is this so ? Many people shy away from classical music with excuses such as, “I don’t understand one bit of it”, or “It goes clean over my head”, or “It is so boring”. In my own case, when I was a young lad of just 12 years, I remember my Father dragging me to the concerts of Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur at Dharwad/Hubli, much against my will. The Great Man would usually begin at about 9.00 p.m. and sing with effortless mastery, as though toying with the Rāga, till about 11.00 pm when he felt sufficiently warmed up. He would then take his music to even greater heights before ending his concert at dawn. I slept through the first two concerts of Panditji but in the third one, my Father found me awake and nodding my head at about 2.00 a.m. Later, he declared to me that the rare bug of classical music had bitten me and that he had achieved his aim. He was dead right.
How does one get hooked onto Classical Music in the first place? True, there is music in every soul and there is hardly a person who remains totally unresponsive in the face of a good melody. But the numbers of lovers of classical music is miniscule compared to those who flock to listen to lighter forms of music such as pop, rock, jazz, filmi geet or movie songs, sugam sangeet or light music, ghazals etc. Why is this so ? Many people shy away from classical music with excuses such as, “I don’t understand one bit of it”, or “It goes clean over my head”, or “It is so boring”. In my own case, when I was a young lad of just 12 years, I remember my Father dragging me to the concerts of Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur at Dharwad/Hubli, much against my will. The Great Man would usually begin at about 9.00 p.m. and sing with effortless mastery, as though toying with the Rāga, till about 11.00 pm when he felt sufficiently warmed up. He would then take his music to even greater heights before ending his concert at dawn. I slept through the first two concerts of Panditji but in the third one, my Father found me awake and nodding my head at about 2.00 a.m. Later, he declared to me that the rare bug of classical music had bitten me and that he had achieved his aim. He was dead right.
How does one get hooked onto Classical Music in the first place? True, there is music in every soul and there is hardly a person who remains totally unresponsive in the face of a good melody. But the numbers of lovers of classical music is miniscule compared to those who flock to listen to lighter forms of music such as pop, rock, jazz, filmi geet or movie songs, sugam sangeet or light music, ghazals etc. Why is this so ? Many people shy away from classical music with excuses such as, “I don’t understand one bit of it”, or “It goes clean over my head”, or “It is so boring”. In my own case, when I was a young lad of just 12 years, I remember my Father dragging me to the concerts of Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur at Dharwad/Hubli, much against my will. The Great Man would usually begin at about 9.00 p.m. and sing with effortless mastery, as though toying with the Rāga, till about 11.00 pm when he felt sufficiently warmed up. He would then take his music to even greater heights before ending his concert at dawn. I slept through the first two concerts of Panditji but in the third one, my Father found me awake and nodding my head at about 2.00 a.m. Later, he declared to me that the rare bug of classical music had bitten me and that he had achieved his aim. He was dead right.
Is the love of classical music hereditary? The children of musicians have ranged from the prodigious to the disinterested with all shades in between. Many musicians have developed a great thirst for classical music in their teens, some even running away from their homes to quench it. What has triggered this thirst? There seems to be no clear-cut link to any parental or ambient factor. Pandit Vidhyadhar Vyas, on a visit to BANGALORE for a concert arranged by the BANGALORE SANGEET SABHA in Dec. 93, while in a discussion with my eldest brother Sri M.A. Rajan who was also a real connoisseur of classical music, spoke of a belt running from around Dharwad area through Miraj and Pune and ending around Mumbai. He felt that this belt has produced an exceptionally large number of Hindustani Classical Musicians, critics, musicologists and music lovers. This belt has apparently now extended itself to the Garden City judging from the growing popularity of Classical Music there. Is it due to the earth, the water or the air or food or a combination of these?
Does classical music readily appeal to those who are spiritually inclined, if only a trifle or to those who have a touch of Philosophy in their outlook? Classical Music in its pristine form may well be an expression of the Sound of God or Nāda Brahma. According to our ancient Scriptures, the ‘anāhata nāda’ or ‘unstruck sound’ is not due to any physical cause. The other basic sound is the ‘hata nāda’ or ‘struck sound’ which is the result of vibrations caused by physical impact. The ‘anāhata nāda’ has been described as the eternal sound of the Universe, all pervasive, eternal and unchanging. For the closest parallel in modern science, we may have to stretch our imagination to the reverberations of the Big Bang picked up in the form of the background microwave radiation. In terms of the origin of any sound, the concept of anāhata nāda or unstruck sound is difficult to express in words. It is best felt in the heart or the Mind or through some other ESP. It is said that Yogis seek to hear this sound from within and may succeed only after years of intense meditation and one-pointed yogic practices.
What about the ‘ahata nāda’ or ‘struck-sound’? This sound produced by physical impact, has its basis in harmonic patterns that exist in the Universe independent of man or beast. It should not surprise anyone that enjoyable or meaningful sounds can be produced, not only by the playing of inanimate instruments or produced by the human vocal chords, but also by natural forces such as the wind rushing through a bamboo thicket or the dry leaves blown off the ground, by water cascading down boulders, by birds and insects, and animals, or by the rumblings of thunder, the wind propelled by storms, by thunder and lightning, and the pattering of the rain drops upon the roof-tops and the ground. Long before Western Classical Music took proper shape, Ancient Indians had evolved the complete octave of seven notes or svaras (1,2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 1) known together as the ‘saptaka’. Some Scholars have identified the origin of these svaras in the cry of animals. For instance, Shadja, the beginning of the octave sounded from one tonic to the next, is the Peacock’s cry. Rishab, the major second, is sounded by the Bull, Gandharva comes from the Goat or Sheep, madhya or Ma from the Heron or Crane. The Pancham comes from the Kokil or the Cuckoo. Dhaivata, or the natural sixth, is rooted in the raucous sound of the Horse, and according to some, from the Frog while the Nishāda comes from the Elephant’s trumpeting. Whether you agree with this basis of the origin of svaras or not, there is something common in the mood and the colour of the note produced by the throats of the animals mentioned and the same note produced by human voice or am instruments played by a human being. It is clear that no svara or fundamental musical note has been invented by anyone. Rather, each Svara has been discovered and that too by great and sensitive minds alone.
What about the ‘ahata nāda’ or ‘struck-sound’? This sound produced by physical impact, has its basis in harmonic patterns that exist in the Universe independent of man or beast. It should not surprise anyone that enjoyable or meaningful sounds can be produced, not only by the playing of inanimate instruments or produced by the human vocal chords, but also by natural forces such as the wind rushing through a bamboo thicket or the dry leaves blown off the ground, by water cascading down boulders, by birds and insects, and animals, or by the rumblings of thunder, the wind propelled by storms, by thunder and lightning, and the pattering of the rain drops upon the roof-tops and the ground. Long before Western Classical Music took proper shape, Ancient Indians had evolved the complete octave of seven notes or svaras (1,2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 1) known together as the ‘saptaka’.
Inexplicably, these svaras come together to form a fundamental parent scale or ‘shuddha’ scale made up of pure notes. All other notes used in other scales are ‘vikrits’ or variations of these primary notes. A note may be altered by flattening or sharpening it to varying degrees. In the present Hindustani Classical System, the fundamental scale is of Bilāwal Rāga corresponding to the major scale of Western Classical Music. The Rāga is the heart of the Indian music system. The saying in Sanskrit ‘रन्जयति इति राग: ranjayati iti rāgah’ means ‘that which colours the mind’ is a Rāga. As the Master Painter splashes colours on the blank canvas and creates a colourful picture, so does the Master Musician colour the mind of the listener with beautiful sounds. The forces that are let loose from within the Rāga, when it is expressed, create different moods and images in the listener’s mind and heart. Every note in our musical system is not just a particular tone for it contains within itself some great sentiment, some profound expression or statement of truth that words cannot convey. We must never forget that no Musician can ever invent a Rāga. Some have created new Rāgas out of a mix of two Rāgas and given it grotesque names. Out of these none have lasted the test of time. Mixed Ragas that have survived and established themselves in the concert-repertoire are those that have been discovered by our Sages long in the past. We believe that all our Rāgas were already there even before the advent of man. Man discovered Rāgas even as Newton discovered the force of Gravitation or Herschel discovered Uranus or Curie discovered Radium. A Rāga should not be equated with just a scale or mode or key or a melody though it has a relationship with each one of these. A Rāga may be best described as the melodic framework discovered by the probing minds and inspired spirits of Master Musicians and Noble Sages.
Some Scholars have identified the origin of these svaras in the cry of animals. For instance, Shadja, the beginning of the octave sounded from one tonic to the next, is the Peacock’s cry. Rishab, the major second, is sounded by the Bull, Gandharva comes from the Goat or Sheep, madhya or Ma from the Heron or Crane. The Pancham comes from the Kokil or the Cuckoo. Dhaivata, or the natural sixth, is rooted in the raucous sound of the Horse, and according to some, from the Frog while the Nishāda comes from the Elephant’s trumpeting. Whether you agree with this basis of the origin of svaras or not, there is something common in the mood and the colour of the note produced by the throats of the animals mentioned and the same note produced by human voice or am instruments played by a human being. It is clear that no svara or fundamental musical note has been invented by anyone. Rather, each Svara has been discovered and that too by great and sensitive minds alone.
Inexplicably, these svaras come together to form a fundamental parent scale or ‘shuddha’ scale made up of pure notes. All other notes used in other scales are ‘vikrits’ or variations of these primary notes. A note may be altered by flattening or sharpening it to varying degrees. In the present Hindustani Classical System, the fundamental scale is of Bilāwal Rāga corresponding to the major scale of Western Classical Music. The Rāga is the heart of the Indian music system. The saying in Sanskrit ‘रन्जयति इति राग: ranjayati iti rāgah’ means ‘that which colours the mind’ is a Rāga. As the Master Painter splashes colours on the blank canvas and creates a colourful picture, so does the Master Musician colour the mind of the listener with beautiful sounds. The forces that are let loose from within the Rāga, when it is expressed, create different moods and images in the listener’s mind and heart. Every note in our musical system is not just a particular tone for it contains within itself some great sentiment, some profound expression or statement of truth that words cannot convey. We must never forget that no Musician can ever invent a Rāga. Some have created new Rāgas out of a mix of two Rāgas and given it grotesque names. Out of these none have lasted the test of time. Mixed Ragas that have survived and established themselves in the concert-repertoire are those that have been discovered by our Sages long in the past. We believe that all our Rāgas were already there even before the advent of man. Man discovered Rāgas even as Newton discovered the force of Gravitation or Herschel discovered Uranus or Curie discovered Radium. A Rāga should not be equated with just a scale or mode or key or a melody though it has a relationship with each one of these. A Rāga may be best described as the melodic framework discovered by the probing minds and inspired spirits of Master Musicians and Noble Sages.
The nature of enjoyment of classical music would vary depending upon the type being listened to. Western Classical Music is based, not only on a combination of melody, rhythm, but also highly developed elements that enhance musical harmony (chordal vertical structure of any composition) and counterpoint (simultaneous sounding of two or more melodies). Indian Classical Music is based solely on melody and rhythm. Our melodies are highly developed and refined and contain an almost unending variety of subtleties that are completely unknown to Western Classical Music. Another marked difference is that Western Compositions may be based on many moods and tonal colours, often sharply contrasting.
Indian melody concentrates on only one principle mood or emotion dwelling on it, expanding and elaborating in myriad ways. No matter how vast the expansion or how complex the elaboration, the main emotion is never lost sight of and the Artiste’s stranglehold on it shows no signs of slackening. Thus the effect on the listener builds up in intensity all the time; a magical web is woven; a spell is cast from which no one wants to be released. Indeed, the hallmark of a great Indian Musician is the ability to do just that.
As between Hindustani and Carnatic music, the emphasis on tāla or the beat or rhythm is relatively more in the case of the latter. The moods evoked are different even in the case of Rāgas that have parallel scales. Writing in the Economic Times in June 94, Roshan Sahāni, while commenting on the singing of Carnatic Rāgas parallel in scale to the Malhār Rāgas, had this to say, “Meeting points in grammar are valueless. The stories of nature, clouds and rain, and frog, koyal and peacock, and the separation of the nayika from the lover/ Ṣri Kṛṣṇa have all emerged from the Bhakti Philosophy, Sanskrit Poetry, and Folk and Tribal Songs. In Carnatic Music, this imagery is not made manifest. Perhaps it is implied in austere, devotional compositions which are direct addresses to the Gods. The literal images of longing for rain and celebrations of nature are all transcended when the musical form emanates from the singer. Carnatic music should certainly figure in a Megh Malhar Festival but it could rest upon the abstractions such as separation or longing or other realities; hardly on the parallel notes in the two systems”.
Great Musicians live, breathe and radiate music. Langford once said, “Other men compose music, Mozart is music”. Sir Neville Cardus called Mozart, “the most truly musical of all composers”. He felt that Mozart had perfect balance of two things: perfect form and perfect substance. In the case of great Artistes such as Ustad Faiyaz Khan, Ustad Abdul Karim Khan, Ustad Sharafat Hussain Khan, Ustad Latafat Hussain Khan, Pandit Omkarnath Thakur, Pandit Krishnarao Shankar Pandit, Pandit DV Paluskar, Pandit Mallikārjun Mansur, Vidushi Kesarbai Kerker, Vidushi Anjanbai Mālpeker, Vidushi Anjanibai Loleker, Vidushi Hīrabai Barodeker to name a few, musical ideas flowed from them one after the other with the effortless ease and with the relentless force of a great river in spate. Similarly, Mozart had no difficulty in composing melodies, erecting motifs, themes and integrating the elements of music into perfect blends. His problem was not how to concieve musical ideas inside his Mind. He had a different problem altogether. He once wrote to his Father: “I could’nt get the ideas down quickly enough”. Commenting on this, Cardus remarked, “They came to him like children from God”. With these words, I feel that Cardus has unravelled a profound mystery about Mozart with the simplicity of a great piece of poetry. Has he not?
The truly wonderful Artiste takes the listener on a sublime tour, one moment to the summit of a peak and the next into a deep valley full of mysterious caverns or caves some in fading light and some in darkness. No matter how often one may listen to a Rāga, one never tires of it unlike lighter music which are all subject to the law of diminishing returns. Cardus has written:
“Some music has yielded all its secrets to me, whereas other music never becomes stale…Some music is perenially fresh; other music, which, in the past has given you much pleasure and which your intellect continues to tell you is the work of genius, no longer makes the same impact. Why is this? It is a mystery and I can’t solve it. I don’t want to talk in religious terms, but the answer to this question has something to do with the spirit behind the music. To discover the source and nature of that spirit would be to discover one of the most deeply-hidden secrets of our Universe”.
Listening to Classical Music is definitely an art. One must listen both with the outer as well as the inner ears. If you listen only with the outer ear, you will discern the correctness of each note in the ascent or the descent or of the accuracy of the tala and such other technical points, but you may miss the colouring and the enjoyment of the music. What difference is there between listening to classical music at a concert and to a cassette or CD at home? We must not imagine that recorded music is anything more than a substitute for the real thing. It is only a snapshot or xerox copy at best. Recorded music can never recreate the same rapport as that of the Artiste with the audience, it cannot duplicate the surcharged atmosphere, it cannot cast the same spell which the Master may have cast on an audience at a live performance.
Great music must communicate on the spiritual plane. Music transcends the common symbols of life. A truly great piece of music will have different connotations to the same listener in different periods of his life. As you grow older, you acquire greater experience and wisdom too. You become more philosophical, perhaps more spiritual too. You have more knowledge about the language of music and you tend to discard most of the elementary extra-musical ideas. Perhaps you have begun to look inwards as ambition and desires loose their keen edge. It could be that as you age, the Guṇa (The Shades of the Ego) do not sway you as much as they did when you were younger. Mow, at a riper age the same Rāgas open up new vistas and hold new meanings as you listen to them again. Is it possible that your enjoyment of Classical Music is now at a different plane because you have begun to hear in the melodies more of the‘Anāhata Nāda’ than the ‘Ahata Nāda’ in contrast to your younger days?