Showing posts with label Pather Panchali. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pather Panchali. Show all posts

December 13, 2012

Pandit Ravi Shankar - When the Sitar fell silent.


Pandit Ravi Shankar’s life was epoch-making till the very end. He was born in Benares – the holiest of the cities and passed away at 92 in North America which now celebrates his brand of music as Indian Classical Music – nobody else exists in their eyes. Ravi Shankar has mesmerized audiences across the globe with his iconic mastery of Sitar; when he played, Sitar sounds so sonorific and fluid. It inspired many who became legends in our own times like George Harrison, daughter Anoushka Ravishankar and the splendid Prem Joshua. My own friend Ram Vakkalanka who is now settled in Canada is an accomplished Sitarist who trained under one of the Master’s direct disciples.

He was awarded every progressive award possible in the planet of music and arts – the Grammys, Oscar nominations, fourteen Doctorates, highest civilian awards in France and India. Not many musicians who are contemporaries of Pandit Ravi Shankar received the Padmas in run up to the ultimate coronation in India – Bharat Ratna. Pandit Ravi Shankar understood what the audiences wanted – whether in India, Eurasia, Far East or the opera-hungry West. That he could inspire the icons of a generation like Beatles speaks of the universal appeal of his music. My first impressions of listening to Pandit Ravi Shankar was on DD channels where he played in France, in opening game ceremonies and in famous performances at International conclaves. And then came the film “Gandhi” where I learnt Ravi Shankar scored the BGM and the songs (the few that were shown in the end). Whether it was the march of the British to prevent the Salt Satyagrahis or that haunting melody for over 13 minutes when young Gandhi travels across the country in the train where he sees everything from poverty to peasantry – those visuals were powerfully enriched by the Maestro’s outstanding music. Those days, BGMs were hard to  get so I used to record the OSTs on audio cassettes whenever “Gandhi” was aired on DD. I still get ecstatic when I listen to the music scored by Pt.Ravi Shankar. He used the right mix of melodies and orchestration as demanded in a film of that stature. It was mostly unique and Indian, and yet had the aura that anybody else would have floundered for Richard Attenborough. Even Gandhi would  have been proud of “Gandhi”’s music by  Ravi Shankar.
I always felt that Ravi Shankar had the right grasp of Indian Classical Music to embellish it further with his feel for what can blend well with Western Classical Music. He can be minimalist, subtle and classy at the same time while making the audience clamor for more. While “Gandhi” may be his finest hour in scoring BGM, he was also the natural choice for the Apu Trilogy of Satyajit Ray. The title theme for Apu in “Pather Panchali” that says it all in less than 90 seconds is one of the most memorable themes in Indian celluloid. In those days, it had the class of some of the Western masters in making a theme stick forever. Of course, Satyajit Ray never engaged Ravi Shankar after the trilogy but he had admitted in many interviews that only Ravi Shankar had the synchronization with him on the role of music in the film grammar – he felt that only Ravi Shankar understood the relationship of music to the film. Satyajit Ray never forgot what Ravi Shankar wrote for his films and probably never tried any other music directors after two failed experiments with Ustad Vilayat Khan and Akbar Ali Khan. That shows the consummate genius of Pandit Ravi Shankar in adjusting his talents to the metrics of any medium – live, recorded or in-film. There were also other musicians who became music directors for films. L Subramaniam had a dash with a few films like “Salaam Bombay”, L Vaidyanathan in “Pushpak”, Shiv-Hari (the Santoorist-Flutist duo) for Yash Chopra films. But all of them met with limited success – they had to call it a day sooner whereas Ravi Shankar scored the music as a privilege to the audience. It is like a preface to the world audiences and it is still etched well in public memory.

Whether it was solo performances or jugalbandis or a collaborative exercise with a bigger orchestra, Panditji was unique and uncomprising. He  was credited to introduce many firsts  in public performances – first to give the Tabla player a solo, first to make program notes, first to introduce sound checks (which spawned an entire industry in sound recordings and arrangements), first to introduce “friendly combats”.  I have attended a live performance of Panditji and his daughter Anoushka RaviShankar in HICC Hyderabad a few years back – and he was as magical as ever with fingers that were still stringing beautifully. Unlike many other musicians of contemporary fame, he knew  when to stop, when to make it sound spontaneous, when to annotate his music, when to let the others get full limelight and when to chastise an audience if they are found to be listless.

Though I have not read his first book “My music, my Life”, I had the fortune to get hold of his second book , more of a memoir “Raaga Malika”. What an exquisite and charming book set in lovely and musical font with elegant layout and exciting photo albums. It had also got a wonderful narrative of Ravi Shankar’s journey to greatness. I am of the opinion that Ravi Shankar had gone where few other Indian musicians had travelled because he was a complete musician presentable in full  - articulate in English, intelligent, charming and famously flirtatious with the ladies, replete with all the etiquette and manners of fully accomplished Indian musicians, and always representing India at her best. At age 92, when he passed away on a day that wont come in another hundred years, he lived the most eventful life that any musician would die for. His output across classical and fusion music must have reverberated across every acoustic auditorium around the world. Panditji, you have left a legacy of love, music and daughters who will carry on your name to greater heights. R.I.P

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