Jayabrato Chatterjee
Bengal’s affinity to music is well
known. Like the Maharashtrians, we also have a strong tradition of gan-bajna. Even
now, every middle-class Bengali belle can sing a mandatory Rabindrasangeet and get up at
the crack of dawn, pull out the family harmonium and practice pelting out the octaves,
never mind if the result is slightly nasal and off-key. Classical music, of course, has
found legions of connoisseurs in Kolkata.
The tradition of music conferences here is
well known and some of the most renowned performers, be they vocal or instrumental, have
happily admitted that they have often found their best audiences in this city.
Therefore, if Pandit Ravi Shankar has
recently complained of not getting his share of accolades amongst the listeners here, I
can only blame it on his lack of holding his fans spellbound.
Kolkata can, thank heavens, still separate
chaff from grain, even if the sustenance of classical traditions has inevitably moved from
the patronage of royalty to corporate badshahs.
The ITC Sangeet Research Academy at
Tollygunge is one such example. Set up in 1978 and with a chequered history of
tantrum-throwing gurus and prodigal shishyas, it is perhaps, the only institution
in the country that has relentlessly persevered to preserve and promote Indian classical
music, despite the fiery personalities of ustads and their fragile egos. My recent visit
to its premises brought me face to face with an environment that is idyllic and charmingly
‘old-world’.
The oral tradition of the guru shishya
parampara is still sacred here, as scholars live with their teachers in complete
surrender.
The task is tough. Bloody tough. But those
who persevere finally glimpse the plot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Time has come for serious classical
musicians to recognise that even if a perfect mix of sweet notes is supposed to transport
audiences straight to paradise, the path to heaven is littered with a hell of a lot of
money.
Especially after the occident has shown
keen interest in traditional Indian music, though George Bush is an aberration. Perhaps
traditional rags could knock some sense into his head. It has certainly held a huge number
of spectators spellbound in America. And to sustain such avid interest, the music exported
has to be of stringent quality.
The various gharanas have to carry
their tradition forward in an atmosphere that will ultimately yield excellence in a
fiercely competitive arena. And this is where the ITC Sangeet Research Academy has played
a quiet but significant role.
Besides training young and dedicated
musicians into top performers, the Academy is a fine example of a modern gurukul. It has
given new direction to contemporary classical music, with an expert committee that keep a
sharp eye on the progress of the pupil, an archive that preserves rare renderings and
data, a library that is a musicologist’s delight and a campus that is truly
inspiring.
At a time when our metros heave under the
burden of film songs and pelvic-gyrating rhythms, classical music, like the proverbial
Australian koala bear, needs protection and preservation.
I have seen society ladies in their pearls
and chiffons nibbling into their hors d’oeuvre and the eager hunk that drapes
their arms rather than listen to a doyen play on the sitar, for whose concert they have
been invited in the first place.
Never mind!
The likes of the ITC Sangeet Research
Academy will be a telling counterpart to indiscreet lipstick marks left on guilty collars.
And I can only thank a range of macho ragas and their seductive raginis for
such small mercies!
