Hare Krishna!

I had no idea about Leonard Bernstein until I came to the US for graduate school.  I watched West Side Story on a rickety old television set, and was hooked.

Bernstein, whose centenary was this year, was a music giant, and a public intellectual and a social activist, who spoke up on important issues of the day.   A deep thinker he was, as much as he was a musician.  When artists like him, with their broad and deep knowledge, speak, society listens.  Even when they point out to the uncomfortable truths.

Back in the old country, TM Krishna continues with such a tradition of the public-intellectual-musician.  He is not new to this blog, of course.

As a musician, Krishna is one of the best; even my father, who after listening to the jambhavans of old the days rarely ever elevates any of the contemporary young artistes to the stratosphere, has a favorite story about how Krishna moved him to tears at a homage to Musiri.

As a public intellectual, Krishna is turning out to be equally accomplished.  From the other side of the world, it seems to me that Krishna's activism are about injustice, of which there is plenty in India.  The latest incident was no exception; he has pumped up his activism:

Performing today at 6.30 pm at the Garden of Five Senses, New Delhi with RK Shriramkumar, Praven Sparsh and Anirudh Athreya. pic.twitter.com/ZFicBCuaVp

— T M Krishna (@tmkrishna) November 17, 2018

"Krishna sings, Krishna is heard", reports The Indian Express.  "A soiree on the art of politics," reports another outlet.

The political overtones of this musical soiree are surely difficult to miss. Ranged on one side are dogged opponents of the values and politics Krishna and AAP stand for. This fusion of politics and music – Carnatic music and north Indian politics – sends out a signal of the political direction that could take place in the days and months ahead. ...
The 2019 Lok Sabha elections are just five months away. If the routine silence of the ruling BJP is a way of endorsing the intimidation and threats made by right-wing social media trolls, swift retaliatory tactics by its opponents are also a way of getting back at the party.

Critics telling Krishna to shut up and simply focus on his music are no different from the right-wing nutcases here in the US who tell football players to shut up and simply play ball.  Krishna is ballsy; a lesser man would have quit being an activist a long time ago.

Again, one can learn from Bernstein's life:

Bernstein was named in Red Channels, a publication from 1950 that targeted people in the entertainment industry who were suspected of having Communist affiliations. Since he was prominent, and a lot of people around him had leftist affiliations, the FBI paid attention to him. He kind of slid past the McCarthy hearings. Copland and Robbins were called to testify, but he was not. He lost his passport for a time in the 1950s, but that was it.

I am thankful that there have been, and are, people fighting these good fights.

The background drone of the tambura connects the dots

In an email to a few colleagues, I quoted the following:

Since the early 1970s, higher education has suffered from increasing specialization and, correspondingly, excessive professionalization. That has created a culture of expertise in which scholars, who know more and more about less and less, spend their professional lives talking to other scholars with similar interests who have little interest in the world around them. This development has led to the increasing fragmentation of disciplines, departments, and curricula. The problem is not only that far too many teachers and students don’t connect the dots, they don’t even know what dots need to be connected.

Of course, I have used that in my blog. Years ago.  How do you think I easily tracked down the quote?  What I write here is no different from what I write to my colleagues, which is no different from what I tell my students.  The only difference is that in the blog, I allow myself to freely express my emotions, dammit ;)

In my intellectual approach, I am always drawn to connecting the dots.  To me, there is simply no other way.  How else can we understand this world?

Which is why I end up reading essays that sometimes are difficult reads for me.  But then I freely admit to my ignorance and try my best to learn the lessons for me there.

Today's complicated essay is this, authored by a president of a prestigious liberal arts college--Middlebury.  She is also an accomplished poet.  The essay involves a lot of poetry.  I am ignorant there.  But, I kept reading.  Because, I know well enough that if I struggle through, there will be gems that will help me connect the dot.

And the gems started appearing; she invokes "the Tanpura Principle."

I practice what I tell students all the time--be an engaged reader.  So, of course, red flag alert right away.  Tanpura, as in the tambura that we refer to in Carnatic music?  Have I been incorrect all my life in referring to the tanpura as the tambura?  So, where did the tambura come from?  And, yes, what the hell is " the Tanpura Principle"?

Connecting the dots.  To help me understand the world.

I paused reading the essay, in order to find out about this tambura/tanpura.  Wiki says that the origin of this instrument is Persian!

The name of the instrument derives from Persian تنبور (pr. tanbūr) where it designates a group of long necked lutes (see tanbur). Hindustani musicians favour the term 'tanpura' whereas Carnatic musicians say 'tambura'; 'tanpuri' is a smaller variant sometimes used for accompanying instrumental soloists.

WTF!  How come I didn't know this Persian connection all these years!  Do the Hindu fundamentalists know that they are using an, ahem, Islamic musical instrument for their bhakti?  I am sure they know that the violin is not Indian, but the tambura?

So, what is the tanpura principle?

The tanpura is a long-necked, lute-like instrument in Indian music that sustains the other instruments by providing a drone. Tanpura players do not provide their own melody, but pluck the instrument’s four strings in a continuous loop of rich tones, to provide a base from which the soloist can draw in singing or playing the raga melody.
The Tanpura Principle in writing is the idea that much of writing occurs while doing something else, because the base of poetic inspiration, the supporting drone, is always there.

Aha; go on:

There are times when we don’t hear the drone, because we are too tired or too overwhelmed with other emotional, spiritual or even logistical challenges to know it. But the point is not then to “cultivate inspiration,” rather, it is to remember that the drone is always there, perhaps even especially there, in the fatigue and frustration of our “other” work.

Think about the dots that this blog has connected.  By themselves, the dots seem unrelated.  But, when connected this way, the world makes sense.  We try our best to make sense of the world which is really incomprehensible.

Carnatic music is not a Hindu fundamentalist art

Listening to the South Indian classical music--carnatic music--was a serious passion among most elders in the extended family.  Appreciation of the music came quite naturally to me and I was beginning to get really good in recognizing the ragas even from the first couple of notes.  It was wonderful until ... I started questioning religion.

Rare is a composition that is not about any one of the Hindu gods.  For all purposes then this classical music is also devotional music. To borrow a word from Christianity, it was ecclesiastical. 

Into my teenage years, as I started questioning religion, the agnosticism spilled over into the appreciation of this music as well.  I suppose I was consistent in my approach in questioning whether one could be into the music without being in the religion.

I was provided with a wonderful real example of this puzzle--following some of controversies related to the musician KJ Yesudas.  Born into a Catholic family, Yesudas took up carnatic music and was a student of one of the most accomplished musicians.

Yesudas' involvement with this Hindu music drew ire from the Catholic religious leaders, who even threatened him with excommunication.  The Catholic logic was that by singing bhajans and carnatic music compositions in temples, Yesudas was straying far away from the monotheism of Christianity.  The excommunication never happened, but all those developments made me think that much more about religion and carnatic music even as I was questioning the concept of "god" itself.

In fact, one of the compositions by Thyagaraja clearly lays out the relationship between carnatic music and devotion:

Sangeetha gnanamu Bhakthi vinaa,  San margamu  kaladhe , Oh Manasa
(The knowledge of music, without devotion (bhakthi) is not the right path, oh mind)

The lyrics further note that this music is a mode of worship. 

The more I moved away from religion--not merely Hinduism, but any religion and god--the more I was naturally disconnecting from this classical music as well. 

Over the decades, I have pretty much lost any interest in carnatic music, and it is only the intellectual curiosities about the music that remain within me.

Every time I visit India, which is almost always in December, I am often presented with opportunities to think about this question of bhakthi in carnatic music--it is also in December that Chennai hosts the huge music festival, and there are programs on television as well.  One of the TV programs features Q/A sessions with musicians.  Without fail, there is always a question about the role of bhakthi in the music, and every musician who has taken that question emphasizes that without bhakthi there cannot be any music.  It is like listening to baseball players responding to questions when you know exactly what their response is going to be. 

Maybe someday there will be a body of secular carnatic music that was borne out of the rebellion against Hinduism?  You think? Nah!

All the above is a part of my post here from seven years ago.

After reading that post, an old high school friend wrote to me about TM Krishna. I then emailed him.  In his lengthy reply (July 17, 2011) Krishna wrote about his experiences when questioning the bhakthi: "reactions have varied agreements to very upset emails etc."

All that was before modi and the BJP came to power in Delhi and in a number of states.  Since then, the emboldened hindutva has gone after anybody who they deem to be a threat to Hindu traditions.  Singers like Krishna and O.S. Arun who have broadened the scope of carnatic music are now under fire; such a huge controversy that even NPR reports.

What's worse is this: Indians living outside the US are some of the big money drivers for such Hindu fundamentalism in carnatic music:

[The musicians] been called "disgusting cretins." Arun has received threatening phone calls.
Much of the vitriol has come from Indians abroad, who've emigrated to the United States or Australia.

It is not a surprise by any means, especially when there is a lack of domestic financial support for carnatic music.

modi and the BJP recognized early on that many of the Hindus living outside India and earning a lot of money are a lot more fanatical than their peers back in India.  The Hindu diaspora is heavily influencing India's politics thanks to its money power, as The Economist noted:

For years Indian politicians paid little heed to the diaspora. But in the 2014 general election the diaspora, some 30m people strong, proved to be influential. Mr Modi made best use of them, realising the diaspora, especially in America, is wealthy and increasingly interested in politics generally

The Hindu diaspora forced the cancellations of concerts that Krishna and Arun were scheduled to perform!

One by one, Hindu temples in the U.S. that had been scheduled to host concerts this fall by Arun and another Carnatic star, T.M. Krishna, have said the singers are no longer welcome. Concerts have also been canceled in India.

I love Krishna's response to all these maniacs: "Krishna vowed to release a new song each month about Jesus or Allah."

The road from Pattamadai to Vani Mahal runs via ... America?

A few months ago, a great aunt recalled her younger days and her interest in Carnatic music.  With disappointment in her tone even after all these decades, she described how her folks poured water on her passions--after all, those were the days when women singing and dancing was often associated with the devadasis.

TM Krishna discusses the devadasi dimension, and more,
in his informative and polemical book.

Even way back, the immediate and extended families had some serious interest in the music.  Not a surprise, given some of the influential and popular musicians and entertainers of those days from that part of the world. Like Harikesanallur Muthiah Bhagavatar and SG Kittappa.   When we were kids, the older folks at Sengottai often pointed to the home that once belonged to Kittappa and recalled their own stories about him, most of which perhaps were imagined than real.

Thus, during the visit to India--to Chennai--in December, which is the Carnatic music season--Carnatic music was always in the air, along with serious talk about the music and musicians.  I, of course, ditched interest in that music a long time ago.  But, having grown up with that means that following the discussions and understanding the excitement is no hassle.  Further, there are plenty of intellectual aspects of that musical tradition that interest the nerd that I am.

As has been the case the past few Decembers, father's cousin and his family were also in town.  Fellow Americans we are, but it is in India that we meet.  The daughter from that branch of the family tree is a trained musician.  Unlike my great-aunts whose talents and interests were tightly circumscribed by the mores of the past, this young woman lives and breathes in a world where the glass ceilings over many fields are being constantly shattered.

So, there I was, after many, many years, attending a formal kutcheri in Chennai's Vani Mahal.

More here about Roopa Mahadevan

The women in the generations that went before us would have been impressed with such developments where young women are physicians, engineers, scientists, and musicians, in addition to being mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, and more.

The street in Pattamadai where our ancestral home (sold a few years ago) is located

Can atheists become carnatic music maestros?

Listening to the South Indian classical music--carnatic music--was a serious passion among most elders in the extended family.  Appreciation of the music came quite naturally to me and I was beginning to get really good in recognizing the ragas even from the first couple of notes.  It was wonderful until ... I started questioning religion.

Carnatic music is built around religion.  Rare is a composition that is not about any one of the Hindu gods.  For all purposes then this classical music is also devotional music. To borrow a word from Christianity, it was ecclesiastical. 

Into my teenage years, as I started questioning religion, the agnosticism spilled over into the appreciation of this music as well.  I suppose I was consistent in my approach in questioning whether one could be into the music without being in the religion.

I was provided with a wonderful real example of this puzzle--following some of controversies related to the musician KJ Yesudas.  Born into a Catholic family, Yesudas took up carnatic music and was a student of one of the most accomplished musicians.   Yesudas' involvement with this Hindu music drew ire from the Catholic religious leaders, who even threatened him with excommunication.  The Catholic logic was that by singing bhajans and carnatic music compositions in temples, Yesudas was straying far away from the monotheism of Christianity.  The excommunication never happened, but all those developments made me think that much more about religion and carnatic music even as I was questioning the concept of "god" itself.

In fact, one of the compositions by Thyagaraja clearly lays out the relationship between carnatic music and devotion:

Sangeetha gnanamu Bhakthi vinaa,  San margamu  kaladhe , Oh Manasa
(The knowledge of music, without devotion (bhakthi) is not the right path, oh mind)

The lyrics further note that this music is a mode of worship. 

The more I moved away from religion--not merely Hinduism, but any religion and god--the more I was naturally disconnecting from this classical music as well. 

Over the decades, I have pretty much lost any interest in carnatic music, and it is only the intellectual curiosities about the music that remain within me.  Every time I visit India, which is almost always in December, I am often presented with opportunities to think about this question of bhakthi in carnatic music--it is also in December that Chennai hosts the huge music festival, and there are programs on television as well.  One of the TV programs features Q/A sessions with musicians.  Without fail, there is always a question about the role of bhakthi in the music, and every musician who has taken that question emphasizes that without bhakthi there cannot be any music.  It is like listening to baseball players responding to questions when you know exactly what their response is going to be. 

A few months ago, I was talking with a cousin and her husband about religion and god, and I laid out this aspect of carnatic music--she is heavily into it.  I wondered if ever there would ever be a secularization of carnatic music. A reformation of sorts.  She seemed intrigued!

The bhakthi is so strong that a jazzy improvisation that Susheela Raman does in her sultry voice with a carnatic classic, nagumomu, might be considered blasphemy. (Maybe I ought to ask for that cousin's opinion here.)



Oh well ... as much as an atheist that I am, one of my favorite pieces from music in this part of the world drips with religion all the way: Handel's Messiah.



All across the world, literature and the arts grew within religious frameworks.  Camille Paglia has often made this point, and she has done that with her usual vast knowledge and clarity.  A confirmed atheist, Paglia points out, and I am in complete agreement with her, that the works that resulted from this framework have been phenomenal, both in quantity and quality.

To fully appreciate world art, one must learn how to respond to religious expression in all its forms. Art began as religion in prehistory. It does not require belief to be moved by a sacred shrine, icon, or scripture. Hence art lovers, even when as citizens they stoutly defend democratic institutions against religious intrusion, should always speak with respect of religion. Conservatives, on the other hand, need to expand their parched and narrow view of culture.

Like her, despite (or because of) my atheistic beliefs, I too worry that in education we don't emphasize enough a deep understanding of religions.  Paglia goes one more step and writes:

Great art can be made out of love for religion as well as rebellion against it. But a totally secularized society with contempt for religion sinks into materialism and self-absorption and gradually goes slack, without leaving an artistic legacy.

Maybe someday there will be a body of secular carnatic music that was borne out of the rebellion against Hinduism?  You think?  Nah!

Clap? Or no clap? Or whatever?

I grew up in a household and cultural context where South Indian classical music (Carnatic Music) reigned supreme. Being an avid listener meant knowing where the musician excelled enough in order to applaud the artiste. Like at a jazz concert. Of course, people also nod their heads in strange ways, and keep up with the beat (taal) in even stranger ways. It has been at least half my life time since I have been to one :-)

Western classical music is way too stiff. No sounds in between, and it is generally considered inappropriate to express one's appreciation of the music unless and until the piece is over and done with. Of course, if one does not know that there are different movements within, which is why there is a lull albeit temporary, then that member of the audience (yes, that is me!) could easily be fooled into thinking that it is time to applaud. Very regimented.

But, apparently it was not always like that.

"I'm a specialist in 18th and 19th Century music. It was customary to not only applaud but to stop and do other things between movements in concerts.

"At the premieres of Haydn and Beethoven they would do two movements and then have a ballet or a singer. Often they would have refreshments. And they didn't listen to everything in complete silence."

Martin Cullingford, deputy editor of Gramophone magazine, also admits things have changed.

"Up until the beginning of the 20th Century applause between movements was normal. Mozart certainly appreciated it. That changed - now it's not the thing that's expected to happen. When people do it's always slightly embarrassing."