[Continued from Part II]
The next morning Mr. Mishra and I set off for the Maurya Sheraton, where Panditji was dossed up. The receptionist first refused to give us his room number (citing security reasons) and then, when we explained we had an appointment, refused to let us enter because there was a do-not-disturb sign on his door.
We were about to leave in dejection, when I spotted Pt. Ulhas Kashalkar entering the hotel, accompanied by Sh. Madhup Mudgal. I naturally rushed to touch his feet. He recognised Mr. Mishra and asked him if he could help. Made abreast of the situation, he promptly invited us to his room. So the four of us, Mr. Mishra and MM on the two armchairs, me on the chair by the desk, and UK on the bed, chatted on for the better part of an hour.
[Note: For the sake of convenience, and especially as the post features several musicians worthy of the accolade 'Panditji', I shall at times make use of the South-Indian practice of referring to musicians by their initials. There is naturally no question of any disrespect meant by this; I sincerely hope none is taken either.]
By this time I had host hope of getting it autographed by BSJ, so I requested UK to sign it instead. He initially demurred, saying he couldn't sign it before Bhimsenji. I mollified him by saying if I got to meet him in the evening (there was a chance left) I'd get another copy for him to sign. He then cheerfully scrawled his name on the flyleaf, and so did MM.
At this point both MM and UK decided to meet BSJ, so we all pushed off to his room. Luckily the sign had been removed, so we went in. A few more people were present. Panditji chatted for fifteen minutes, then excused himself, saying he was tired. I went to his son and reminded him of his promised. He first asked me to come at four o'clock and then, when I said I wouldn't be able to, sugested I leave it be. My face dropped, so he took pity on me and asked me to request the big man himself. Panditji's response was, "My hands are very weak, so I can only promise to try. Let's have a go!" And he did sign!
I then turned to UK and then said I'd brought a camera but didn't have the nerve to take pics as Panditji was tired. He said no no, no problem at all, come along. So I made him stand next to Panditji and took a snap of them together. Promptly, Mr. Mishra, MM and some of the other people present there came up and requested snaps. Someone took pity on me and snapped one of mine with BSJ. We left after that. What a day!
Friday, March 07, 2008
Pt. Bhimsen Joshi and I - Part III
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Pt. Bhimsen Joshi and I - Part II
[Continued from Part I]
The recital, when it began, bore all the signs of a full-scale disaster. Panditji took his time to find his sur. When he began, his voice was so hoarse and shaky one couldn't discern any notes at all.
I'm an avid fan of Panditji's, but have never really warmed to his interpretation of certain Ragas like Shuddha Kalyan. And I was dreading he'd present just that. Certainly, the singing gave us no clue. For the first three minutes I couldn't make out anything of the raga, except that the rishabha seemed a bit flat for Kalyan.
After a while, the contours of Pooriya began to emerge. Then without warning, he paused abruptly on the pancham, and began "aaj so bana" in Pooriya Kalyan. All was revealed!
It took him about ten minutes to fully warm up. But once he did he was roaring like a lion just the way he used to twenty years ago. Vintage Bhimsen every inch. His heavy gamak taans were right there in place, as were all his old tricks, pukars, surprisingly accurate laykari (except for a few miscueings), voice modulations etc. But what really moved all of us in the audience was that he took just as much pleasure in his singing as he did in his prime.
His age showed only rarely, such as when he mistimed the 'sam' a couple of times. Anand Gopal Bandyopadhyaya on the tabla was very understanding, and skillfully covered up such rare lapses.
The Khayal was followed by a Dadra in Mishra Gara, and then "Jo Bhaje Hari Ko Sada" in Bhairavi. I say 'Followed', because it was almost the literal truth. He would finish one item, take exactly one long breath, a pause of about fifteen seconds, and proceed to the next one. In a man one-third his age, such a commanding display would have been commendable. At his age and health it was nothing short of a tour de force.
[Continued in Part III]
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Pt. Bhimsen Joshi and I - Part I
It is only fitting that I start this blog with one of my most cherished experiences. This post began life as an e-mail to a friend. Then, at his suggestion, I posted it the newsgroup RMIC. And now, more than four years later, when I was hard-pressed to find something truly memorable to begin the blog with, I could think of nothing better than to go back to these wonderful memories.
First, some mild self-aggrandisement. My biography of Pt. Bhimsen Joshi, published by Rupa & Co, came out round the beginning of 2004. The reason I mention it is that it has everything to do with the events narrated below.
In the course of writing it, I had interviewed Mr. Amar Mishra, who was instrumental in setting up the ITC Sangeet Research Academy, also a close personal friend of Panditji. When I heard that Bhimsen was scheduled to sing at the ITC Sammelan in New Delhi this year, I contacted Mr. Mishra to find out if I could get to meet him.
Anyway, on the day of the recital, he and I made our way to the green room. Panditji arrived a few minutes later, a frail, shrivelled man with a woollen cap on his head and an air of extreme dejection and bewilderment about him. He was shunted onto a wheelchair and pushed into the green room.
Mr. Mishra was busy talking to his other acquaintances, so I went inside, introduced myself to Sh. Srinivas Joshi, Panditji's son, and showed him a copy of the book. His interest grew when he saw the Rupa label, then he passed it on to his father. I asked him if Panditji could autograph my copy, but he declined, saying his father suffered from weakness in the limbs.
That is when Mr. Mishra came in, and introduced me to Panditji. The conversation turned back to the book for a little while. As we were taking our leave, I once again asked Srinivasji if an autograph was absloutely out of the question. He told me to accompany Mr. Mishra the next day (he'd been given an appointment earlier), because if Panditji signed one autograph, others would immediately pile on.
[Continued in Part II]
Monday, February 25, 2008
Manifesto
Cliches abound about the nature of classical music - a journey; a journey with no end; a journey where travelling itself becomes the destination; yada yada yada. Trite as they seem, a kernel of truth does lie hidden in them. Music forms so vast, so diverse a subject that imposing a framework on it is truly beyond human endeavour.
As every lover of music knows, this has a beautiful, endearing aspect to it. Pursue music seriously enough, and it is bound to throw up random surprises at you. Insights into the structure of music; into the nature of specific Ragas; melodic phrases suddenly making sense to you; in short, penetrating, unexpected insights into the truth that lies at the heart of our music.
Music is a deeply experiential art form, and perhaps the purpose of this blog is best served if it reflects this experiential aspect. It is for this reason that I envisage the blog as a freewheeling record of these chance morsels of beauty that have come my way. It does not aspire to a regularity of structure, an overall direction, plan or ideology. Indeed, that will be self-defeating.
A caveat here: Lest my insistence on terms like 'freewheeling', 'unstructured' and the like convey an impression of casualness, let me clarify that I am too respectful of music to even think of foisting on readers random ideas poorly conceived, researched, written and generally fleshed out. So as long as I remain honest to music, I shall put in all due hard work and not let the blog fall prey to slipshod writing.
