Known for her fusion of different genres and cultures to create soulful music, Mumbai-born and New York-based singer, Priya Darshini, has been nominated for the 63rd edition of the annual Grammy Awards.
For those who may not know, the Grammys are a prestigious award given by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences of the United States to recognise outstanding achievement in the music industry.
This multi-talented girl from Goregaon, a Mumbai suburb, is driven by passion with her hands in several pies. From creating cross-cultural music, supporting cancer patients to funding government schools in rural Maharashtra, here are five things to know about Priya:
Carnatic Music Meets American Hip Hop
Priya’s latest album, Periphery, comprising nine songs have been selected under the Best New Age Album award. The album, manufactured by Chesky Records, is a melting pot of American pop and traditional Carnatic music with songs like ‘Jahaan’, ‘The Banyan Tree’ and ‘Sanware Sanware’.
“A live album, recorded entirely on one mic getting a nod from the Academy is quite surreal….I’ve dreamt of this day since I was little, but I never really thought dreams like this could come true for someone like me – a tamizh ponnu (tamil girl) from Goregaon! I thank the universe for proving me wrong,” Priya wrote in an Instagram post.
According to Chesky Records, Priya has banked on her Indian roots and explored music from all over the world to create the Grammy-nominated masterpiece.
“Priya displays an exciting combination of range, technique, unconventional compositions, a feminist perspective and a prodigious voice that truly sets her apart from other vocalists. She has the ability to both intrigue and captivate any audience. Priya has collaborated with a wide range of artists from Pearl Jam; Grammy award winners – Roy “Futureman” Wooten; Jeff Coffin, Philip Lassiter; to virtuoso ukulele player Jake Shimabukuro and many more,” the record writes.
First Love
Born to a South Indian family, Priya’s grandmother, who was also named Priya Darshini, was an accomplished Bharatnatyam dancer and a classical vocalist.
Naturally, her first musical inspiration came from her grandmother who would often encourage her to make classical singing her profession. Like every South Indian family, Priya too was enrolled in classical singing when she turned four and there has been no looking back.
She has sung for more than a hundred television and radio commercials and recorded for several award-winning and chart-topping Indian movie soundtracks. Her collaborations boast of groups like Karsh Kale, Grand Tapestry and Women’s Raga Massive.
Though her first love remains to be music, she has not shied away from exploring other artforms including acting. She essayed the role of Shubhashini Das in The Letters, a 2014 movie based on Mother Teresa’s life.
Aiding Cancer Patients
Priya’s tryst with cancer patients began early on when her mother would often bring strangers into their one-bedroom flat in Mumbai.
“She wanted to serve. She would bring home patients who were getting treatment and didn’t have anywhere to live. These were underprivileged and underserved people travelling to Mumbai from other parts of India,” Priya shared in a podcast.
Having imbibed her mother’s quality, in 2004 she formally launched an NGO, Jana Rakshita. It provides holistic medical care and offers rehabilitation services to underprivileged cancer-affected children and adolescents.
Girl Child Education
Through Jana Rakshita, Priya has adopted government-run schools to provide necessary infrastructure and prevent girls from dropping out of schools.
“We have adopted a school, which is a dilapidated building with just two rooms, in Maharashtra. They don’t have potable water or electricity. The building might fall apart at any time, and yet these kids are so invested in their education,” she said in the same podcast.
She further goes on to elaborate on the lack of sanitation and hygiene, which is a major reason for keeping girls away from school. The NGO constructed toilets in the school and within no time the attendance of girls increased.
Giving Sherpas Their Due
Priya is also an ultramarathoner and holds the record for being the first and the youngest Indian woman to run a 100-mile race in the Himalayas.
She has been on several expeditions that introduced her to the exploited lives of Sherpas (porters/guides). She saw how giant corporations paid them very little for their services in high altitudes of the Himalayas.
Priya launched a social enterprise called The WindChasers that organises ultra marathons. Through the revenue generated, the company supports Sherpas and their families, “Because of WindChasers, we’ve been able to support many Sherpa families and pay them way more than any of these other expeditions would,” she says.
All images are sourced from Priya Darshini/Instagram
Before I knew what music meant to me, I had heard the timeless voice of Sripathi Panditaradhyula Balasubrahmanyam, popularly known as SPB. It was on AR Rahman’s debut soundtrack album, Roja (1992), and the song was Rukkumani Rukkumani. Interestingly enough, as an impressionable four-year-old, I had first heard the song in Tamil during a winter dinner party hosted by my father’s work colleague in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia.
Although I didn’t understand a word of the song or what it meant, I distinctly remember smiling to myself and constantly repeating SPB’s opening line “Rukkumani Rukkumani, Akkam Pakkam Enna Satham” much to the amusement of the guests there.
It’s a voice that I have since heard for more than half my life, which I spent studying in different institutions across South India. Whether it was on a school trip to the holy city of Tirupathi or a tea shop on the streets of Taramani, Chennai, at five in the morning after an all-nighter preparing for a college exam — it’s a ubiquitous voice I couldn’t escape.
However, it was only after his sad demise on 25 September 2020 due to cardio-respiratory arrest, when I bothered to deep dive into the life and career of this once in a generation talent.
(Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
‘The definitive introduction to music’
With a career spanning over 50 years and an eye-popping 40,000 recorded songs across films, TV serials and private albums and in 16 languages including Telugu, Tamil, Malayalam, Kannada and Hindi, SPB has worked alongside the greatest geniuses of Indian film music. From MS Viswanathan, KV Mahadevan, Naushad Ali, Laxmikant-Pyarelal and AR Rahman to the maestro Ilaiyaraaja with whom he shared a legendary partnership that influenced generations of music listeners in South India, he has worked with them all.
He was the voice of choice to provide ‘playback’ to some of the biggest stars of Indian cinema, including MG Ramachandran, Sivaji Ganesan, Gemini Ganesan, Rajinikanth and even Salman Khan. Such was the magnetic quality of his incredible voice that it would be very difficult to imagine anyone else filling those shoes. And, of course, there are countless highly skilled playback singers with whom he shared the booth with, including Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhonsle, KS Chitra, S Janaki, Kavita Krishnamurthy and so on.
What’s particularly astounding about SPB’s career is that his contributions don’t end at just being a singer of the highest quality. He also made his mark as a voice-over artist—for actors like Rajinikanth, Salman Khan, Anil Kapoor, Kamal Haasan and Girish Karnad—music director and actor. By any measure, it’s an astounding body of work, where he has probably sung more blockbuster hits in South Indian cinema than everyone else combined.
The first of his six National Awards as Best Male Playback Singer came for his work in the 1979 Telugu-language musical drama film written and directed by K. Viswanath, Sankarabharanam. Two years later, he won the National Award for his first project in the Hindi film industry through Ek Duuje Ke Liye (1981), which starred Kamal Haasan and Rati Agnihotri and was directed by the legendary K Balachander.
“To anyone growing up in the South of India in the 1970s, ’80s, ’90s and even the 2000s, the voice of SPB is the definitive introduction to music and singing. It becomes the crucible on which everyone else’s vocalisation is then placed, compared and sometimes found wanting. His voice is internal to us, and deeply customised,” wrote Anil Srinivasan, a pianist, music educator and writer, in a column for Scroll.in following SPB’s demise.
SP Balasubrahmanyam at Kanithan Audio Launch. (Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
Not a Classically Trained Singer
Born into a Telugu family in Nellore, Andhra Pradesh, on 4 June 1946, SPB had developed a keen interest in music at an early age studying musical notations. After finishing school, he enrolled at the JNTU College of Engineering Anantapur and was all set on becoming an engineer. Although typhoid had brought a halt to his studies, he joined as the Associate Member of the Institution of Engineers, Chennai, and began participating in amateur singing competitions across the city winning a whole host of awards. SPB was a little over 20 years old when he made his debut as a playback singer in Sri Sri Sri Maryada Ramanna, a Telugu film scored by his mentor and music director SP Kodandapani.
“He was musically inclined as a child but did not receive extensive formal instruction. Though he often expressed regret over not being a ‘trained’ singer, it is interesting to imagine what formal training might have done to his vocal adventurism, which often flirted with the limits of a raga, and was a perfect fit for film music. Not unlike Kishore Kumar,” wrote Anand Venkateswaran, a former journalist, in a column for The Wire.
“He burst into the scene fully formed in 1966. There was no learning curve or tentative beginnings. The virtuosity was undeniable. And the emotional intelligence – the part of the voice that clicks with the words and not just the music – was precocious,” Anand further added.
Besides his undeniable skill and talent, his work ethic was off the charts. According to The Hindu, he recorded an astounding 21 songs in Kannada for composer Upendra Kumar from 9 am to 9 pm on 8 February 1981. There are other accounts of how he recorded 16 songs in Hindi in a day and 19 songs in Tamil for a similar duration.
On a more human level, however, he was also a mentor and father figure to several musicians, independent and up and coming artists as well.
As Anil Srinivasan noted, “Unerringly generous, supportive and humble to a fault – he would set the standard for collaborative ventures and the art of mentoring. He had the ability to give advice without ever enforcing his opinion and that gentlemanly composure that seems to be a relic of a bygone age. To have been able to work with him on and off the stage is perhaps a singular honor in the lives of many, including me.”
His legacy doesn’t end with music. From the award-winning Keladi Kanmani in 1990, where he played the role of a widower with an impressive voice opposite Raadhika to the heist comedy Thiruda Thiruda (1993), where he plays a CBI officer, SPB also made his mark as an actor. Of course, many also remember the 1994 film Kadhalan, where SPB plays the role of an easy-going police constable and a doting father to Prabhu Deva.
But his legacy will always be bound by his precocious singing talent, which the country recognised once again this year as the Government of India posthumously awarded him the Padma Vibhushan, the second-highest civilian honour. He already has a Padma Shri (2001), Padma Bhushan (2011) and multiple State level awards to his name.
Awards, however, don’t capture the essence of what SPB meant to generations of music listeners and aficionados from around the world. It’s about what his voice made us feel.
(Edited by Yoshita Rao)
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Barely a year after India’s Independence, the iconic Bombay Talkies Studios released a film called Ziddi (1948), which gave the legendary actor Dev Anand his first big break in the Hindi Film Industry. More importantly for aficionados of Hindi film music, Ziddi also launched arguably the two most famous names associated with it — Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar. There is a famous story of how Mangeshkar thought she was being stalked by Kumar while they were on their way to the studio to record their first-ever duet, ‘Ye Kaun Aaya Re’, only to realise later that they were called there at the same time. The film also saw Kumar’s debut with his solo track, ‘Marne Ki Duayen Kyon Mangu’. What’s often missed in this story is the prodigiously gifted music director who brought the two together — Khemchand Prakash.
In addition to launching these legends of Hindi film music, Prakash mentored quite literally the who’s who of the scene including Naushad, Manna Dey, Mukesh and Mohammed Rafi, besides working top stars of the day like KL Saigal, Ashok Kumar, Kamini Kaushal, Shamshad Begum and Noorjehan to name a few.
It’s a tragedy that Hindi film music industry lost him to liver cirrhosis at the age of 41 on 10 August 1949, which was two months before the release of Mahal starring Ashoke Kumar and Madhubala. Sadly, the film industry did little to honour his memory. In a Rajya Sabha speech, where he argued for amendments to the Copyright Bill 2010, lyricist and poet Javed Akhtar spoke of how Prakash’s wife was found begging at Malad station in Mumbai even though she was owed royalties from the superhit song ‘Aayega Aanewala’ featured in Mahal.
A Prodigious Talent
Born on 12 December 1907 in Jaipur, Prakash grew up in a household replete with culture. His father, Pandit Goverdhan Prasad, was a well known exponent of the Dhrupad style of Hindustani classical music and a Kathak dancer.
As a child, Prakash was considered a singer with prodigious talent, performing in the royal courts of Rajasthan before the then King of Nepal became his patron. During one of his performances in his late teens, the King of Nepal was so enamoured by his style of singing that he took him to Nepal. For the next seven years, Prakash spent his time performing at the royal court there before taking his talents to Calcutta to pursue a career as a music director. However, his early life as an independent music director was rife with challenges and money was hard to come by.
Despite his association with the Calcutta (Kolkata) station of the All India Radio, it was only in 1935 when Timir Baran, the music director of the first Devdas film (1935), gave a talented Prakash his first break as an assistant music director. According to some accounts, Prakash composed two classic compositions from the film—‘Dukh ke din ab’ and ‘Baalam aan baso’—but received no credit for them. However, Prakash was not happy in Calcutta (Kolkata), where he thought his talents weren’t receiving proper remuneration or importance. On the advice of actor and friend Prithviraj Kappor, he moved to Bombay (Mumbai) and it was a decision that changed his life.
Bombay Calling
In Bombay, Prakash got his first big break as an independent music director with the film Ghazi Salauudin (1939) released by Supreme Pictures. Assisting him on this project was a young Naushad sa’ab, who spoke of how Prakash’s use of classical Hindustani music ragas and his impeccable sense of rhythm, which came from his training as a classical Kathak dancer, influenced his own career moving forward.
Both these elements came to the fore in Tansen (1943), a landmark musical starring KL Saigal and Khursheed Bano, and featuring 13 hit songs including the iconic ‘Jagmag jagmag diya jalao’ and ‘Barso re kare badarwa piya par barso’. Tansen quite literally paved the way for other musicals that followed in the Hindi Film Industry.
“Prakash who influenced the history of film music used classical ragas to perfection, bringing to the songs of ‘Tansen’ a melodic grandeur that was his trademark. He employed a small orchestra but paid much greater attention to the words of a lyric and the singer’s diction,” Pran Neville noted in an article for The Hindu in August 2018.
There is no questioning his unparalleled contribution. In barely a decade, he worked on close to 40 films and was immensely successful.
“Towards the end, he was working on three films and it is believed that Manna Dey who was closely working with the music director then eventually found a way to complete the films,” noted this profile in Sahapedia. But his early demise presents one of the greatest ‘what ifs’ of the Hindi music film industry. We can only speculate how he would have gone on to shape Bollywood music, if he lived longer. Prakash, in this writer’s opinion, should definitely be considered a titan.
(Edited by Yoshita Rao)
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It has been an eventful month for 25-year-old Kekho Thiamkho, the Hip Hop artist from Arunachal Pradesh, who is popularly known by the moniker ‘K4 Kekho’.
After confirmation on 4 March that he will feature as a rapper/songwriter in the upcoming Varun Dhawan and Kriti Sanon-starrer Bollywood film, Bhediya, Kekho has helped organise donation drives for Longliang village that suffered a devastating fire on 18 March.
Located in Lazu Circle of Tirap district, Arunachal Pradesh, Longlian suffered two casualties. To make matters worse, 114 thatched houses, including community halls and granaries, were burnt down. Led by the All Tirap Changlang Namsai and Longding Students’ Union Itanagar and the Rajiv Gandhi University’s Tirap Changlang Namsai and Longding Students’ Union, the donation drive in Itanagar over three days collected nearly Rs 6.7 lakhs for the victims.
We caught up with Kekho following the conclusion of a three-day donation drive in Itanagar which lasted from 20 to 22 March. Speaking to The Better India, Kekho talks about how the fire in Longliang hit close to home. His native village of Lower Chinhan falls under Lazu Circle. On the intervening night of 18 and 19 March, he posted a video on his Facebook page with an appeal to the government for urgent assistance.
“I could relate to events in Longliang because the same thing happened in Lower Chinhan a couple of years ago, when more than 40 houses were burnt down in a fire. Besides urgent assistance for the residents who lost their homes, I also appealed to the government for better infrastructure. The village has no proper road connectivity or other modern amenities. It was an emotional day, and I was really motivated to do something for them,” says Kekho.
After consulting Sange Droma Bodoi, a good friend and CEO of Arunachal Today, a local news media outlet, he got in touch with the student unions. After meeting them on 19 March, they decided to organise donation drives from different locations in the city the next day.
Offering regular updates of the donation drives on his Facebook page alongside Arunachal Today, they reached out to a large audience online and offline.
“People in the village need relief immediately. Even though the state government and local administration are offering financial and other assistance, we feel it’s important to supplement their efforts. These victims are without a roof over their head. I feel more people should donate money to those in need of help. Since I am a struggling artist, I wasn’t in a position to donate a few lakhs. Instead, I decided to donate my time,” he says.
Now, Kekho feels that his immediate duties are done. It’s up to the respective students’ unions to ensure money reaches the intended beneficiaries, while he gets back to his music.
From the Ollo (Nocte) indigenous community, Kekho’s love for music was first inspired by his father, Najen Thiamkho, a constable with the Arunachal Pradesh Police.
“My father had a massive collection of audio cassettes ranging from Bollywood to international pop artists like Michael Jackson and Michael Learns to Rock (MLTR). The collection also included Sufi music, semi-classical tracks and local songs as well. He would often sing at home. When his friends would come over, drink wine and play Antakshari, my father and I would sing together while others would shower us with compliments,” he recalls.
Najen always encouraged his son’s interest in music, but like many parents in Arunachal, he wasn’t sure whether Kekho would survive without a secure government job to fall back on. Besides music, however, Najen also encouraged his son to learn spoken English properly. He believed that learning English would help his son land a better government job. It was this introduction to English language learning which first sparked his love for Hip Hop.
“My father bought a book home for me to learn English, but that wasn’t helpful. To learn it, I started listening to English songs starting with Michael Jackson. When my father bought me my first MP4 player in school, my first objective was to download all of Michael Jackson’s songs. But I asked people at the local internet cafe to transfer all the English songs they had into my MP4 player. Hip Hop found me through this process,” says Kekho.
Besides singing/rapping to songs by international artists like Eminem and Lil Wayne, he would also regularly watch the World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE). Through these mediums, he not only improved his vocabulary but also began ascertaining the different tonalities of English speaking. But out of all the music genres, Hip Hop stuck with him.
“Initially, I would imitate artists like Eminem and Lil Wayne, but after a point that seemed like a futile exercise because they were on another level. By the time I was in high school around Class 11, I began writing my own lyrics with a mix of broken English and broken Hindi. In Class 12, I performed my first ever rap song at a school function. While teachers weren’t very fond of my rap performance, fellow students went crazy because that’s the first time they saw someone perform a Hip Hop song in front of them,” he recalls.
Following the electric reception he got, Kekho knew that Hip Hop would become the medium through which he would express his emotions, while telling stories about the self and society.
The next big turning point came during Arunachal Pradesh’s inaugural Rap Riot competition in 2015. Competing with 10 other rappers in his final year of college, Kekho came first. This is the moment, he believes, when his music career actually began.
Speaking to The Better India in an earlier interview, Kolkata-based independent rapper and producer, Vikramjit Sen (aka Feyago), talked about this moment.
“We had a rap battle in Arunachal, and this young man called Kekho won. He was driven. His father was there at the time, telling him that this was a total waste of time. However, when the boy went to his dad with the winner’s cheque, what we saw was a parent eventually seeing this as something his son could pursue in the future,” said Feyago.
“Back then, all the craze was about Rock music and Metal. In my opinion, even today, people in Arunachal who love Rock music, Bollywood music and Metal, don’t really respect Hip Hop. But since I started making music, the Hip Hop scene in Arunachal has grown tremendously. There is a budding rapper in every colony across cities like Itanagar,” he says.
However, Kekho doesn’t like to call himself a ‘pioneer’ of Hip Hop music in Arunachal. “I just played my part and witnessed the Hip Hop scene rise in our state,” he adds.
Signing autographs
‘I am an Indian’
Later that year, he wrote a song called ‘I Am An Indian’, responding to the spate of racist and xenophobic attacks against people from the Northeast in cities like Delhi and Bengaluru.
“I had to find something relevant to rap about so that people could ascribe real value to my art. If I can compose and rap a song about a subject which touches people’s hearts, it’ll be worth remembering. Recording this track on my mobile phone, I shared it with my friends on WhatsApp and Facebook. After a few weeks, people started talking about this song. Even before I recorded the song in a proper studio, people would ask me to perform it in different gatherings. Bengia Morto, a friend, came to me and said we need to make a music video for this song because more people needed to hear it. After all, music is a better way of spreading awareness about racism against Northeasterners than textbooks,” he says.
But that music video didn’t come for a few years. Instead, Kekho was honing his craft and putting out the occasional track. Finally, in 2018, his search for someone to help produce ‘I Am An Indian’ in a real studio and make a music video on the same, came to an end.
Approaching Hilang Nima, a local producer, they re-recorded the song and made a music video alongside close friends and long-time collaborators Bengia Morto, the director, Nyago Ete, the cinematographer. This video went viral with over a 1 million views, and many mainstream Indian publications covered it. “This video changed my life,” he adds.
He hasn’t looked back since. Besides regularly putting out songs expressing personal bravado, the pride in belonging to tribal communities, and socially conscious lyrics, Kekho has collaborated with many artists from the Northeast in cyphers and other tracks.
Take the example of Yoksa, a Hip Hop track song by Arunachalee producer DJ Bom, which features Kekho on vocals. With nearly 850,000 views on YouTube, this song pays homage to the traditional values associated with Yoksa (Tibetan swords) of the indigenous Adi tribe.
As the song’s YouTube description notes, “the beat is a combination of digitally produced hip hop sounds and the sounds of yoksa recorded in a studio accompanied by the vocal performance of a traditional Tapu War dance crew.” A personal favourite is his verse in the Northeast Cypher 2020, which saw contributions from rappers across the Northeast.
Never Giving Up on a Dream
Throughout this journey, his family has backed him. Then there are two of his closest professional collaborators and personal friends Bengia Morto and Nyago Ete, who have sometimes made Kekho’s music videos for free. Other well-wishers include Katung Nabam and Yachang Chan. Since his career took off, Kekho has been supporting his music dreams by working on background scores and music for documentaries, feature films and short films made in Arunachal.
“I also work on dubbing and sound designing projects. But then again, it’s not easy to find work because there isn’t an organised film industry here. The money I get goes into buying petrol, purchasing things for my kitchen and making music in my home studio. My father does his best to support me as well, but we have a big family. I don’t want to exploit my friends into making free music videos. That’s why I’m taking my time working and earning in different spaces to put out new content because I’d like to pay them for their work and put out quality content. So far, I have earned my name in the game and the love of my people. I want to keep it real and not give people the impression that I’m rich and fancy,” he says.
However, there are times when Kekho feels that he should give up his music dreams and find a ‘proper job’. This happens, particularly, when he sees artists who have parents with deeper pockets support their careers. These artists put out music videos regularly. “I can’t expect too much of my father because he has a large family to support. So, I’ve gone independent to fund my content on YouTube,” he adds.
Having said all that, things are really looking up for Kekho. A couple of months ago, he was approached by Amar Kaushik, a Bollywood director, who was doing a recce for the upcoming shoot of Bhediya. As per reports, the movie will be shot in Ziro, Lower Subansiri district, Sagalee, Papum Pare district and parts of Pakke Kessang district.
“Amar Sir approached me to compose a song for Bhediya. I was competing with a couple of other artists as well for the same spot. They were given the same brief. Although he expressed his desire to see me come on board, I wasn’t sure about making it till I heard Varun Dhawan Sir publicly mention my name in that official press conference. My entire family was overjoyed when the news came through officially. I remember hugging my parents and wife in excitement. Hopefully, I will be featured in another song, besides the one I have already submitted, and the movie goes ahead as planned,” he says.
(Edited by Yoshita Rao)
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Not too far from the ghat, sprawled along the River Ganga are the famous gullies and pedestrian alleys of Dashashwamedh area in Varanasi. No more than 6 feet wide, these ever tangling maze-like lanes are part of a heritage walk in one of the oldest cities of India. They have had immense influence from their foreign visitors. For example, you could walk past a sadhu giving sermons in a foreign language, or stop by for a coffee at a cafe run by a Korean.
Traversing these lanes will also lead you to a rustic heritage structure, roughly 100 years old, bearing a sign that says ‘International Music Centre Ashram’. A door, a little over 5-feet tall, will lead you to the reception area, crossing which takes you into a courtyard with distinct architectural features for visitors to feast their eyes on, followed by a chauraha or a baithak hall, where musicians from different parts of the world learn, practice or even perform Indian classical music.
For more than four decades now, the Ashram has created over 10,000 musical jewels that have taken Indian classical music to different corners of the planet. Musicians from Europe, Japan, USA, Australia, Korea, and Latin America, to name a few, have learned to play instruments such as the tabla, santoor, bansuri, bamboo flute, violin, and sarangi, as well as vocals and dance forms such as kathak and bharatnatyam.
Many of these musicians have become professionals, who are now spreading their love for Indian classical music in their respective countries by performing concerts and teaching. The ashram also finds mention in the Lonely Planet.
Taking India’s musical heritage to the world
Pandit Laxman Rao with student.
Continuing the legacy of this ashram is Sandeep Rao, part of the fourth generation that has been running the centre. He says, “Musicians organise concerts to entertain tourists, visitors and locals in the baithak hall two days a week. The ritual is to attend the Ganga Aarti at 7 pm and walk to the centre for a concert,” he tells The Better India.
While most of the performers and students at the ashram are foreigners, the centre was not not specifically launched to teach them alone. “In the early days, music festivals and events were limited to special occasions. The school aimed to then educate the locals about the Indian classical music and make it accessible,” the 37-year-old explains, adding that the involvement of foreigners happened organically.
“My grandfather, Pandit Laxman Rao Nayak Kewale, and his younger brother Pandit Gangadhar Rao Kewale, were two music lovers who started the music school Sugam Sangeet Vidya Mandir in 1975 to promote music. The city has a rich tradition in music. Legendary musicians from Varanasi, such as Pandit Ravi Shankar, Ustad Bismillah Khan, Kabir, Pandit Godai Maharaj, Pandit Gopal Mishra, Sitara Devi, and Girija Devi to name a few, continue to strike a chord in the hearts of millions of classical music lovers,” he says.
“The city attracts tourists because of its holiness, beauty, rituals, and classical and folk music. It hosts thousands of foreigners each year, and my grandfather’s idea was to reach out to such audiences to showcase India’s art, skills and the quality of music through concerts,” he says, adding.
A concert by members of the International Music Centre Ashram, Varanasi in Switzerland.
“The music school was renamed as International Music Centre Ashram in 1980, and was officially registered in 1988. The status allowed the school to be recognised officially and gave credibility to the institute,” he explains.
Sandeep says it was Pandit Keshava Rao Nayak, Laxman’s son, who suggested changing the name. “He started organising concerts twice a week and giving lessons on music to foreigners,” he adds. “It became a platform for foreigners to listen, learn and understand music by taking part in the concerts and discussions organised in the presence of renowned and famous artists of Indian classical music,” he says.
Sandeep adds that word spread among tourists without any marketing, advertisement or means of online publicity, and the ashram soon became a must visit in the city. “Foreigners thronged to experience and learn music. They mastered the art and promoted it in their respective countries,” he says.
Transcending boundaries and language barriers
KG Westland from Sweden is one such student of the ashram, and has been playing the sitar since 2005. “I had my first experience of Indian classical music at the centre. After eight years of learning, I qualified to perform globally and organise festivals,” he says.
He adds that he has been promoting and teaching Indian classical music in Sweden. “Learning unique music requires a different kind of intellect. I have tried Jazz and other forms of music as well, but struck a chord only with Indian classical music,” he says.
He describes Indian music as advanced. “Such music has been practised in India for thousands of years. It has brought a big change in my life, as I could perform across the globe and make new friends. I feel at home with it,” KG says.
KG playing Sitar at a concert
Gumi Nakaguchi, a bansuri professional, met Sandeep in 2007. “Sandeep heard me playing during my visit in Varanasi. He was impressed, and offered that I play alongside him in events and concerts. I took lessons to increase my knowledge and have been performing at various music festivals since 2010,” he says.
Gumi says it has been a unique opportunity to associate with the centre and perform in front of global audiences. “I have pure vegetarian meals with the family and have made the city my second home,” he says. Many of his students from Japan accompany him to India to seek exposure to Indian music and culture. “I hope I can return to perform in 2022,” Gumi says.
Sandeep says it was not as hard for both him and the foreigners to overcome language barriers. “The beauty of music is that rhythm can help connect and communicate. If any technicalities cannot be explained in English or understood, a practical demonstration serves as the best option,” he adds.
Sandeep adds, “The school has taught over 10,000 musicians so far. Around 75% of them come from Europe, Japan and the USA. In 2014, we started a project called Neckarganga (Neckar, a river in Germany) with German musicians who learned classical music at the institute. We have been organising live concerts during the COVID-19 pandemic. Every week, we conduct online music concerts under the Banaras Festival and perform with artists globally,” he adds.
Sandeep’s father, Keshava, feels that the years of efforts have helped the family turn their dreams into reality. “I have performed in Japan, Denmark, Finland and other countries in the past many years. We tried our best to connect with as many people as possible. Our motto of spreading the soul of Indian classical music all around the world has been lived up to. And I am sure Sandeep will continue the good work for years to come,” he says.
Amidst the backdrop of World War II, two individuals are putting their lives at stake to support the Indian National Army (INA) by transporting a gem-encrusted sword to its members, to be used as capital to fund the revolution. A hanging bridge stands in their way, as the British try to corner them and stop them from crossing over and leaving Indian borders. What ensues after is a climactic scene on the flimsy bridge, followed by shootings and explosions causing some of the characters to lose their lives.
This is a scene from a 2017 Bollywood film, Rangoon, where the lead characters, played by Saif Ali Khan, Kangana Ranaut and Shahid Kapoor, wrestle with all odds to transport a priceless sword to the other side of the bridge.
Now, imagine watching this scene with no sound. You would not hear the characters’ footsteps, the explosions, the sounds of a torrential stream running below, or even the subtle yet dangerous reminder of their ultimate doom with each crack on the bridge. It would then be quite bland, wouldn’t it?
Without background undertones like these, any scene, be it a climatic one or otherwise, would lose its flavour. That’s why Mumbai-resident Karan Arjun Singh has dedicated his life to adding magic to the screen. The 48-year-old foley artist has recreated the minute sound-effects in the aforementioned scene, in a small foley studio, using not much but a charpai with a mini hanging bridge artificially constructed using jute and twigs.
Talking to The Better India, he points out that we don’t just watch a film with our eyes, but witness a seamless and immersive aural experience without even realising it. Foley is a highly underappreciated art in cinema. Artists like him recreate sound effects and add them in post-production to enhance the film without overpowering it. He is one of the country’s most prominent foley artists, having added his magic to more than 3,000 films so far.
‘Finding my true calling’
Born and brought up in the staff quarters of Mumbai’s BR Films studio, cinema has always been an integral part of Karan’s life.
Talking about his first encounter with his calling, he says, “My father was part of the security team at BR Films, but I was always interested in the process of filmmaking. Through the years, I had the opportunity to work in various capacities at the studio. From cleaning to recording, I’d done it all. But it was only when I was around 11 years old that I found my true calling. It was quite late at night and I sneaked out to watch the process of voice recording. I reached a small studio room, where someone was using all sorts of objects, from brooms to shoes, balls and leaves, to replicate the sounds shown on the video playing on a large screen. I was spellbound watching him work and at that moment I knew that this was something I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
After this incident, Karan began to frequent the studio at night to learn more about foley from the artists there. A year later, in 1984, he did his first work on a film called Teri Maherbaniya, at the age of 12. Since then, he has worked on thousands of films with several prominent blockbusters to his name, including Tezaab, Jab We Met, Sultan, Dangal, Tiger Zinda Hai, Neerja, Secret Superstar, Tumhari Sulu, Krrish 3 and even Baahubali.
In 2003, Karan parted ways with BR Films and decided to establish himself as an independent foley artist. After freelancing for six years, he launched Just Foley in 2009 in Goregaon. His career has scaled since, helping him diversify into working on web series such as Paatal Lok, in addition to films.
An underappreciated art
But life as a foley artist is quite difficult, he says. “Long hours are a given. We spend nights without sleeping and work till 4 am in the morning every day to finish films. A few decades ago, when sound was recorded on mono tracks, we would manage to finish an entire film in a night, but now with Dolby Atmos and 5.1 surround sound, things have changed and become more complicated. So it can take somewhere between 15 to 20 days and sometimes even a month to finish one film.”
He adds that action films are usually the most challenging and time-consuming, as an average action film has more than 5 lakh sound effects to be individually recreated and added to the video clips. “Krrish 3, being the first superhero film in India, was quite a challenge. Creating sound effects for the explosions, building crumbling down, amidst the main character scaling heights, was quite something. We have to spend hours adding layers and layers of sounds to get the authentic effect,” says the artist, who manages to complete even the largest project inside his 10ft x 16ft sound studio with a trusted team. From the sound of a marching battalion to the delicate footsteps of Kareena Kapoor, he and his team of foley artists can do it all.
One of his youngest team members, 36-year-old Ram Nath, says, “I have been working with Karan sir as a sound recording engineer since 2005 and have done several huge films such as Baahubali. But even after so many years, the magic of sound never seems to surprise me. At a glance, it looks like an ocean of chaos, but there is a method to this madness, that artists like Karan sir understand and excel at.”
But despite the brilliance of this art and the artists, foley continues to be underappreciated in the film industry. Karan opines that one way of helping foley achieve its due as an art is its prominence in film institutions. Although several institutes in India focus on Sound Design and Engineering, very little emphasis is given to foley, a gap that Karan hopes to be able to fill someday by starting his own institution for teaching foley.
Watch this video of Karan recreating the sound of a blood pressure machine using nothing but an empty Suthol bottle and a laptop bag with a velcro strap.
Perhaps one of the greatest unions in the history of music is that of Pandit Ravi Shankar and former Beatle George Harrison. Their meeting in 1966 birthed an instant yet unlikely connection and albums full of wonderful music. The two came together despite differences in their age, cultures, backgrounds and even social status, but developed a solid camaraderie that would last till Harrison’s death from cancer in 2001, with Shankar being at his bedside with the rest of his family.
This historic union took place in the house of portrait painter and novelist, Patricia Clare Angadi, and her husband, a relatively lesser-known Indian man named Ayana Deva Angadi. While Patricia remains “best known as the person who introduced Harrison and Shankar”, her ex-husband’s name remains more or less missing from the mentions of this famed encounter. However, his efforts to popularise Indian music, yoga and dance in the western world paved the way for artists such as Pandit Ravi Shankar and Akbar Ali Khan.
Born in 1903 in Jakanur village in Mysore State, now in Karnataka, at the age of 21, Ayana went to London in 1924. His goal in London was to finish a degree he’d started back home at Bombay University, but he soon realised that normal jobs were not for him.
Instead, he became increasingly involved in political activism and wrote several articles and journals under the pseudonym Raja Hansa. He joined the Labour Party and wrote on Japanese imperialism, fascism and capitalism. His deep interest in politics meant that he was never really employed long-term, and flitted in and out of radical left political circles for most of his youth.
At the onset of World War II, Ayana met his future wife, Patricia. In Ray Newman’s Abracadabra: The Complete Story of the Beatles’ Revolver, Ayana’s son Shankara said, “He was very striking looking, with long hair and aquiline features, and that went to his head. He…lived as a kind of toy boy to various socialist women for ten years or so. Then he met my mother. One version of the story is that she saw him from the top of a bus on Regent Street and said, ‘I have to paint that man’.”
Patricia and Ayana’s union was met with disdain, particularly because she belonged to a well-off family and he had given up his wealth for a life of activism. Alongside, of course, were differences of race, which contributed to Patricia’s parents’ overall disdain for Ayana. Regardless, the two married in 1943 on Labour Day in a registrar office.
In an obituary upon his death, The Guardian wrote that he came from a large family and was their “shining hope”.
The assimilation of Indian culture with the UK
In 1946, the couple founded the Asian Music Circle in their home to promote Asian culture and music in Britain. From hereon, the Angadis began shaping Indian arts as something more than just a fancy of the elite left circles of Britain, and more towards something that the masses could enjoy.
“…In the mid-1950s, Patricia and Ayana Angadi began the slow process of bringing Indian art to the chattering classes. They imported musicians and dancers, putting them up and, in their own chaotic way, organising and promoting tours. Some musicians stayed, forming the core of a musical “repertory group” who, as well as performing in their own right, would back visiting celebrity musicians or hire themselves out to record and film companies,” writes Newman.
This “repertory group” included renowned violinist Yehudi Menuhin, English classical composer Benjamin Britten, and world-famous yoga teacher B K S Iyengar. In fact, in the case of Iyengar, from the day he held a session in the Angadi’s north London home, the face of yoga changed in the UK forever — it became the popular discipline it is known to be today.
Pandit Ravi Shankar and former Beatle George Harrison’s infamous friendship was a result of their association at Angadi’s home (Source: Flickr)
Around 1955, Menuhin had become the president of the AMC, which had started gaining massive notoriety for its performances. He had gained funding to stage a giant music festival — Living Arts of India Festival — in New York, and his first choice was Pandit Ravi Shankar, who he had previously met at a concert in New Delhi in 1952. However, Shankar was forced to turn down the opportunity owing to problems in his marriage, and the festival instead called in Sarod player Ali Akbar Khan.
This festival by the AMC marked the first formal recital of Indian classical music in America. Owing to its massive success, the centre organised for Khan to play in London and was finally able to bring Ravi Shankar alongside. This marked the sitarist’s first western concern, held in October 1956. The year also marked the entry of famed sitarist Vilayat Khan to the UK for the first time.
Angadi’s introduction to The Beatles happened particularly during the recording of ‘Norwegian Wood’, which featured Harrison playing the sitar. The story goes that during a recording session, one of the sitar strings broke, and Harrison made contact with Angadi in search of a replacement. In an interview for Newman’s Abracadabra, Shankara said, “There’s a story in my family, which I don’t believe, that my father had never heard of the Beatles. He was heard shouting into the telephone: ‘Yes, but Ringo who?’ As luck would have it, we did have some sitar strings in the house, and the whole family went down to the studio at Abbey Road and watched them record, from behind the glass. My mother drew several sketches of them recording ‘Norwegian Wood’, which are still in the family.”
As Harrison became further involved with the Asian Music Circle, he was introduced to Ravi Shankar, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Returning to his roots
It was due to Angadi and the AMC that Harrison, and subsequently The Beatles’ music, was so influenced by Indian culture. Many of the Beatles’ tracks featured Indian musicians from the AMC, in particular, Anil Bhagwat, who played the tabla for ‘Love You To’. He received a credit on the album sleeve for Revolver, which was a rare occurrence for an “outsider”. Songs on St. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts, including Within You Without You, feature AMC members on the dilruba, swarmandal and tabla as well. In 2017, a few of these musicians, who had remained unknown up until then, were tracked down for a live performance.
Some time in the 70s, Angadi and Patricia split, leading to the dissolution of the AMC. Angadi’s roots beckoned him home, and he returned to Jakanur and immersed himself in rural development projects in his homeland. “He came to believe that his theorising in London had served its purpose but had done nothing for his home village,” journalist Reginald Massey said, writing for The Observer. “And so he went back to Jakanur and organised rural upliftment projects. Houses were built, a school was started, electricity was brought in and a well was sunk. He got buses to service the village.”
On Angadi’s death in ‘93, Massey further noted, “The death of Ayana Angadi, aged 90, will be mourned by all Britons and Indians who value mutual respect, tolerance, understanding and cultural exchange. He was a man of immense energy whose crusading work, often behind the scenes, influenced the great and the good. The acceptance of Indian culture — the art, music, dance, or yoga — in the United Kingdom today is due in no small measure to Angadi’s endeavours.”
From the ’50s till the ’70s, Kolkata (then Calcutta) witnessed a surge of refugees after the Partition of India. These were decades of chaos but also of a social and cultural awakening, where different sections of the society were out on the streets to demand food, wages, housing and other basic rights. These varying sections—students, refugees, the working class and more—joined hands in the face of political upheavals and the surge of the Naxalite movement.
Amid the changing landscape of this city emerged a group of young men, armed with the drive to raise their voices that could connect even the most varying sections of society through a single medium — music. This helped form India’s first rock band, Moheener Ghoraguli (Moheen’s horses). The name was picked from Jibanananda Das’s poem Ghora, where a line of the poem says, “Moheen’s horses graze on the horizon, in the Autumn moonlight”.
At the helm of this musical movement was Gautam Chattopadhyay, who formed the group in 1975 with his brothers Pradip and Biswanath (Bishu), cousin Ranjon Ghoshal—who picked the band’s name—and friends Tapas Das, Tapesh Bandhopadhyay (who was later replaced by Raja) and Abraham Mazumder.
A young Gautam Chattopadhyay and (left) Gautam during a recording session in the 90s (Credit: Gaurab Chatterjee)
“The music had elements of rock, jazz, blues and Western classical music; folk elements from Bengal were also very visible in the music they made,” Gaurab Chatterjee, Gautam’s son, tells The Better India. “My father had a huge palette for different kinds of music, where he would try to listen to new forms all the time.”
Moheener Ghoraguli was born in Gautam’s backyard and as is the typical origin story of legendary bands, it was just a simple coming together of young boys who were united in their love for making good music. “For my father, a band from India, or even Bengal, had to sound like it belonged to the country instead of blindly aping the West. Having one’s own elements meant a great deal to him,” Gaurab notes.
At this time, Bengali music was defined more or less by commercial and/or Bollywood music. “These were sweet, romantic songs, or film songs, whereas the band was talking about social issues through a different composition altogether. So it was something different for the masses,” says Gaurab.
The group began with performances at small gigs throughout Kolkata. But audiences were unaccustomed to this new sound. Commercial success was a slow and uphill battle, but regardless, the band produced three albums of wonderful music.
The band was India’s first rock band, who emphasised on vernacular music (Source: Bishu Chattopadhyay)
Talking about a few songs and their meanings, Bishu Chattopadhyay, Gautam’s younger brother and member of the band, says, “We wrote this song called Shono Sudhijon [Dearly beloved]. Roughly translated, the lyrics meant, ‘Oh city dwellers, listen, we wake up with nightmares everyday thinking about your injustices and neglect—oh dear people, as if your life is the precarious ‘Charak’ performers going around with your back facing the sky—listen dear beloved people, we are with you’.”
He adds, “Then there’s Haay Bhalobashi [We love with sadness], where we say, ‘We love getting immersed in the countryside, the nature, a run in the moonlight with distant hills, paddy fields, a boat ride or sitting by the window with a book of poems.”
He further adds, “We love Picasso, Bunuel, Dante, listening to the Beatles, Dylan, Beethoven. Love listening (live) to Ravi Shankar or Ali Akbar and returning home in the foggy morning. Yet none seems good or satisfying, there is always sadness underneath. None makes sense when we notice oppressed peasants or workers sweating in the fields and ports. We wait for the bright day when we all can love life together’.”
Haay Bhalobashi
Gaurab says his father spent a lot of time with the Bauls, a group of religious singers from the Bengal region. Moheener Ghoraguli often described their style of music as ‘Baul jazz’. “My father was quite influenced by the time he spent with the Baul singers. Members of the community also came to perform with the band during the Kolkata International Jazz Festival around ‘79 or ‘80,” he says. “One of the first examples of folk fusion in a band came from Moheener Ghoraguli as well,” he says.
Describing the reception that Moheener received and the struggles they saw, Bishu tells The Better India, “We were not given opportunities to express ourselves the way we wanted. We wanted equal sounds for all our instruments, as well as vocals but engineers at the recording studios were often against that. There were many times where sound engineers or recording studios would think they were one up on us — we were nobodies at the time. Moreover, the so-called ‘established Bengali community’ was still holding onto Tagore songs, and a lot of footage was given to only gifted singers or traditional musicians. I think people were afraid to publicly support something different.”
“Also, none of us had money,” he laughs. “It’s not like we were going on these giant tours. We used to often jokingly ask, ‘How do you make Rs 5 lakh? Possibly by starting out with Rs 10 lakh of your parents’ money’.”
In 1981, Moheener Ghoraguli parted ways. When I ask if their struggles to find commercial acceptance played a role in this, Bishu says, “Well, yes, if we had been given more opportunities, maybe things would be different. It wasn’t because of any disagreement. It was more situational. So many of us left, and only Gautam da chose to stay back. But of course, if people listened to our music, we would have stayed — who wants to leave their home, friends, and family, and move away?”
From left: Bishu, Raja, Bapi, Pradip (Source: Bishu Chattopadhyay)
Other members went on to pursue careers for a bit, while Gautam diversified into filmmaking. Interestingly, during this period of disbandment, many Moheener Ghoraguli songs survived across different college campuses in Kolkata as an oral tradition. “These kids didn’t even know whose songs these were, but they’d sing it anyway,” Gaurab says.
He further recalls that with the advent of MTV in the ’90s, when the father-son duo would switch on the channel, Gautam would be fascinated with the music videos he saw. “He wanted to make something similar and created a three-part miniseries of music videos which got sanctioned by Doordarshan,” he recalls. “He got new people to sing some of his post-Moheener songs, shot videos for them and that’s how a collective of great music came about.”
And that is how, in the ’90s, Moheener Ghoraguli emerged again, but this time as a collective of musicians. With his friends in a publishing house named A Mukherjee, Gautam released a compilation called Abar Bochhor Kuri Porey (Again, After Twenty Years) in 1995 at the Kolkata Book Fair. Gaurab says, “This was Moheener Ghoraguli’s second phase, which was a collective of musicians and artists that my father liked.”
A notable song on this album was Prithibi Ta Naki Chhoto Hote Hote, a commentary on the human tendency to be glued to the television to a point of humanity’s own downfall. This song was later recreated by composer Pritam in his song ‘Bheegi Bheegi Si Hai Raatein’ for the 2006 movie Gangster. The collective released three more albums — Jhora Samoyer Gaan, Maya, and Khyaapar Gaan.
Subrata Ghosh, a member of Gorer Math and an active member of this movement, tells The Better India, “This movement involved not just musicians but also artists and filmmakers, to encapsulate different forms of expression. We weren’t making this music to be famous, but to express ourselves. We didn’t know the kind of impact we were making. We didn’t have a lot of financial help on our side. A lot of these albums were sold in black but it gave us an idea of the impact. Gautam da used to say that when you find your cassettes being plagiarised or sold in black, you understand the popularity of your music.”
“There were no interviews or press releases,” Ghosh notes. “Our impact was all word-of-mouth. For example, one of the members of our collective was a radio jockey, who’d often play Prithibi during his segment. Our music started selling like hotcakes and we did some concerts but not too many.”
Also involved with the collective was Arunendu Das, a pioneer of 20th century alternative Bengali music. While Das never intended his songs to reach a wider audience, Gautam was so moved by his music that he included many of his songs on the collective’s albums.
Gautam died suddenly of a heart attack on 20 June 1999, and his demise left a deep scar on the Bengali music fraternity. Ghosh recalls, “I’d left for Japan for some work, and I used to call him and keep in touch regularly. I remember, on the day he passed, I tried calling him several times but the call would not connect. I received the news the next day. The whole Calcutta music fraternity came to the house to pay their respects. I was still in Japan at the time, and when I received the email of his death, I called his wife. The two of us broke down on the phone, and in the background, I could hear Baul singers singing in mourning. I returned a few years later, but Calcutta has always been empty without Gautam da.”
Shortly before his death, Gautam had visited a Naxal-infested area to interact with Karbi youth, and organised an opera on the community’s folklore called Hai-mu. Around 300 Karbi youth performed here, and the event was a grand success, inviting the community’s adoration for Gautam. He had also been working on a movie in Karbi language, which remains incomplete due to his sudden death.
Gautam Chattopadhyay and (right) the band during a performance (Source: Gaurab Chatterjee, Bishu Chattopadhyay)
Bishu, who now is a member of a jazz band in the US, says, “Gautam da was the most popular brother among us, from when we were very young. Our life was always a little public because of how many people noticed his talent. He taught me that you can make music the way you want, and that it’s okay to be adventurous. There’s no need to conform. He never believed in doing things the way everyone else expected him to. For example, people may expect that the best voice in the band should sing a particular song, but he would go ahead and pick someone else because that has another kind of creative quality. He was a leader, he knew how to bring people together. He could zero in on the best abilities of people to highlight them in the best way possible, just to try out seemingly unthinkable ideas.”
Today, remaining members of the original band include Pradip, who resides in Kolkata and experiments with city and natural sound, as well as abstract theatre, Bishu, who lives in the US, Abraham who runs a music academy, and Tapas who helms a band. Tapesh lives in Kolkata and Raja in the US. Ranjon passed away in 2020, a year after he was accused during #MeToo for sexual harassment. Band members and Gaurab have, in the past, emphasised that they stand in solidarity with the victims who came out in the movement.
Shono Sudhijon
Encapsulating the present world impact of the band, Ghosh says, “Earlier, there was this impression that people who make music or those who are artistic in general, are God-gifted. Commoners couldn’t do that. But with this movement, people started believing more in themselves, and looked at it as a form of expression, something that everyone is capable of doing.”
Bishu says, “I think Moheener Ghoraguli instilled a sense of pride in your own language. So many young talented singers today are making so much more new music, and if Gautam da was alive today, he would be so happy.”
You can watch the video that the ’70s band members created in remembrance of Gautam Chattopadhyay here (credit: Bishu Chattopadhyay) and a video of Abraham’s students covering Haay Bhalobhashi here.
Growing up in Goa, Dr Luis Dias (55) always found solace in music. It was a big part of his life, he recalls, right from his visits to church. But without the presence of the internet, he notes, it was hard to pursue a dream in that field. “If you didn’t know who to write to or where to submit your pieces, you had no scope,” he recalls in conversation with The Better India. “I’d loved to have pursued a career in music, but I didn’t know how.”
Coming from a family of doctors, Dr Dias thought it was the natural field of choice for him as well — he is a fourth-generation doctor from his family. His great-grandfather is Dr Migeul Caetano Dias, who was at the forefront of the fight against the Bubonic Plague in Goa. “We were a traditional farming family but my great-grandfather was the first to study medicine.”
Back when Dr Dias was growing up, career choices were limited, he says. “Today you have all sorts of arts you can pursue, but at that time, there was medicine or engineering, and things like that. I was a decent student so I pursued medicine but my love for music never faded.”
He became an obstetrician and gynaecologist and practised in India for 10 years. After this, he spent a decade in the UK. However, he notes, “More than having a lucrative career in medicine in a foreign land, I relocated to be closer to the music I loved. In those 10 years, whenever I was not busy with my work as a doctor, I was pursuing and exploring music.”
Dr Dias’ solace has always been music, even as he was practising medicine for 20 years (Source: Dr Luis Dias)
A life changing moment
In 2005, Dr Dias married his wife, Chryselle, who shifted from India to move in with him in the UK. Around this time, the Symphony Orchestra of India was formed, which is the country’s first and only professional orchestra. “This was a big deal because until then, India did not have a professional symphony orchestra,” Dr Dias notes. “I was very excited by this development. This orchestra is made up entirely Eastern Europeans and only a few Indians. I wondered why we couldn’t push for more Indians to join this movement.”
Alongside was Dr Dias’ understanding of the grave inequality that existed back in his home country. These, he says, are sections of society that are more or less overlooked. What if you could give them a better life if you hand them an instrument? This idea, he says, came from a project he’d come across years ago, wherein a few children from a slum were given disposable cameras to capture their lives from their own lenses. This project went on to become very famous and left Dr Dias deeply inspired.
The amalgamation of these two desires happened when Dr Dias attended a BBC concert in July 2007 at the Royal Albert Hall in London. This orchestra consisted solely of underprivileged children from various parts of South Africa and South America. “I was blown away by the talent of these young kids. After the concert, I happened to talk to one of the children, who told me that music saved his life. He told me stories about his friend who had taken to drugs and crime and had eventually died. This kid told me that if he had not been given the violin, this could have been him. That really stuck with me. When I came home, I was so overwhelmed by what I had seen.”
He adds, “A month before going to that concert, Chryselle and I had started preparing to settle down in the UK permanently. But after the concert, there was no looking back.” So in 2008, Dr Dias gave up his thriving career in medicine in the UK and returned to his home in Goa to start working towards his dream. And that’s how Child’s Play India Foundation was born.
Watching children from South Africa belonging to low-income backgrounds perform at an orchestra changed Dr Dias’ life forever, he says. (Source: Dr Luis Dias)
‘Creating something beautiful together’
The organisation works with children coming from disadvantaged backgrounds across Goa to instill positive values and socially empower them through the medium of western classical music. These kids are taught the violin, viola, cello, recorder, transverse flute, clarinet and piano, which they then perform in concerts across the state.
Child’s Play aims to provide these kids a sense of self-esteem, possible career opportunities, a sense of discipline and encourage excellence and creativity. Around 250 children have learned music with the organisation, and have performed in 20 concerts across Goa. Audience members at these concerts include people from all backgrounds and walks of lives, and most notably, proud parents who marvel at their children mastering the toughest of instruments with ease.
“Our idea is to teach these kids instruments that you’d find in symphony orchestras, so we’re not teaching them the guitar or keyboard. We want to build an orchestra or choir,” Dr Dias notes.
Child’s Play has various projects through which they work with these children. For example, there’s the Humara School project, wherein the organisation has tied up with a shelter for underprivileged children in Goa. Humara School cares for over 80 children of construction workers, migrants and other low-income families and provides them with food, clothing, after school education and a safe place. A few children from this shelter are learning the violin, cello, flute and choir with the organisation.
The NGO has also launched the Santa Cruz Village Project, where they work with the Santa Cruz church and parish school to conduct after school projects and teach these village children instruments such as the violin and piano. Before the pandemic, Child’s Play would hold at least two concerts every year.
The idea of Child’s Play is to give these children a sense of hope, direction, discipline and creativity through music (Source: Dr Luis Dias)
While the NGO charges Rs 500 a month for these lessons, any family who is interested but can’t afford the amount is never turned away. Instead, they’re inducted under the Child’s Play scholarship so they can play with the organisation.
“When sir first came to my children’s school to propose the idea of learning western music, I was very hesitant. I know these instruments are costly and that we couldn’t afford them but Dr Dias never turned us away,” says Seema Sali, a Saligao resident whose children Shreya and Sanjay have been learning the cello and violin with Child’s Play for three and two years, respectively.
“It has been a pleasure watching my children learn music with sir,” she tells The Better India. “Dr Dias provided them with all the instruments and he regularly helps them maintain these. My daughter, in particular, was very shy and couldn’t speak well. Learning music with Child’s Play has helped transform her. She’s picked up English so well, which has been such a big achievement for us. I tell my neighbours and other parents all the time that this organisation has helped change my children for the better, and that they are doing great work. When I watch my children perform up on stage, it fills me with so much pride.”
“I am a housewife and we’re not that well-to-do. I want my children to realise all the dreams that I couldn’t have myself. I have always been worried about giving them a good education and making them good people and Dr Dias stepped up to help. He makes accommodations to suit our comfort and is always willing to help. My children love the lessons he has imparted and my daughter regularly keeps up with practice,” Seema says.
“Playing and singing together is a good lesson for society,” Dr Dias notes. “We want to build a better society where we listen to each other. Music is excellent for that. We want to tell these children that no matter how small your role, your contribution is paramount. We harmonise, in the literal as well as the figurative sense. We make something beautiful together, which we couldn’t do on our own.”
Before COVID-19, these kids were holding two performances across Goa twice a year (Source: Dr Luis Dias)
‘Music belongs to everyone’
Speaking about some challenges that Dr Dias has faced along the way, he says, “The shift from my career in medicine to running this organisation has certainly been tough. The money is not what it used to be. But after 20 years of practising, the only thought I was left with was that there’s only one life to live. It’s also been hard to find people to invest in our dream.”
The biggest challenge, he notes, is getting teachers for the NGO. “We want to maintain a certain quality and look after these children. We might find teachers who are great at what they do but might not be able to connect with these children and want to help them. Alongside music, there’s also the question of character building, instilling confidence and realising the importance of hard work. There are many hindrances in inviting foreign teachers to join us as well. We could invite them on a volunteer basis but the stipend is not much, which makes it hard for them to survive. So sometimes a teacher from outside will fly in for six months or so but there’s a gap once they leave.”
Dr Dias works hard to fill this gap as much as he can. While he grew up playing the violin, over the years, he has honed his skills in cello and other instruments so he can continue teaching. “If you leave too much of a gap in teaching children, they lose interest. So we have to keep going,” he says.
“So many of our children have done well in their higher education, with renewed focus and drive. Now there’s no way to directly prove this, but I’d like to think it’s because they continued playing. They learn life lessons about daily practice, hard work and perseverance — and these are qualities you can apply to all parts of your life,” Dr Dias says.
“We make something beautiful together, which we couldn’t do on our own,” says Dr Dias (Source: Dr Luis Dias)
The onset of the COVID-19 pandemic has certainly posed additional challenges. “Many of these kids don’t have access to phones or online learning. So continuing lessons has become hard. When you’re teaching instruments, it’s always better when you’re physically present with your student. Our lessons took a big hit during the lockdown last year. When things began to open up a little, a few kids would come to my house to learn. But after the second wave, that had to be put on hold as well. We also have to keep tuning and cleaning these instruments but it’s got a lot harder.”
“The dream is to reach out to many more kids, especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds, because they’re the ones who are denied a decent living the most. But for this, all sections of society have to work together. We want to uplift these kids and let the world know that music belongs to everyone. It’s about creating a society that grows together and exists in harmony through this medium,” Dr Dias says.
To donate to, support, or learn more about Child’s Play, you can visit their website.
The Tetseo Sisters rank among Nagaland’s greatest cultural exports.
Celebrating songs of life, the richness of their natural surroundings, and storytelling through the language of Li or folk singing in the Chokri Naga dialect, sisters Mütsevelü (Mercy), Azine (Azi), Kuvelü (Kuku) and Alüne (Lulu), as well as their brother Mhaseve (MKT), have undertaken a remarkable artistic journey.
They have taken their music, soaked in Naga folk tradition, beyond the confines of Northeast India to countries including South Korea, China, United States, United Kingdom and Thailand, winning multiple accolades like the Governor’s Award for Excellence in Music in 2018 and Best Folk/Fusion Act award at the first ever Indihut Music Awards 2015 along the way. The Tetseo Sisters speak to The Better India about their lives and music.
The Tetseo Sisters from Left to Right: Mercy, Azi, Lulu, Kuku
It’s a family affair
Growing up in Kohima, the siblings of the Chakhesang Naga tribe were surrounded by music from an early age.
“All of us have unique and distinct tastes based on the times that we grew up in. Our parents would play Abba, Boney M, Elvis Presely, The Beatles and a variety of country and gospel artists. We also listened to classic rock, country, blues, jazz, western classical and pop music from artists like Etta James to Britney Spears. Meanwhile, we also enjoyed Bollywood classics by artists like RD Burman and Kishore Kumar. In Church, we sang in the choir and performed Christmas carols, while Naga folk songs were an integral presence at home,” says Mercy, the eldest.
Mercy, Azi (since 1987), Kuku and Lulu (since 1992) have performed for audiences in Church, school, social gatherings, formal events and even Doordarshan recording sessions. They formally came together as Tetseo Sisters in 1994. Since then, however, they’ve not always performed as a quartet. They’ve performed as duos, trios and solo acts, covering popular English songs and traditional folk songs under the banner of Tetseo Sisters or Tetseos.
“While it’s difficult to pinpoint when we came together officially, we have always been performing together as siblings, with either Mhaseve or other musicians. But as siblings living separate lives in different cities over the years, it has become a challenge for all of us to be together at the same events. But fortunately we have found a working rhythm,” says Kuku.
Making a living entirely through music, however, has not been easy. Since the sisters began earning money performing in school, college and in between jobs, only Kuku and Mercy have become full-time musicians (since 2014). Lulu, meanwhile, studied medicine and recently graduated, serving today as a frontline COVID-19 healthcare worker. Azi is a stay-at-home mom, but joins her sisters on tours or to record new music.
It was around 2006 when the sisters really started to take their musical endeavours as a collective outfit more seriously.
“We got more serious about building the Tetseo Sisters brand on social media, becoming more responsive to event inquiries and even got ourselves a website. Since then, our growth has been organic,” says Mercy.
Tetseo Sisters with their brother Mhaseve
Bending genres
“We play traditional folk, folk fusion and covers as well, depending on the event. We are notably a folk/folk fusion act. The fact that we sing in Chokri also confuses people into thinking that every song in our language is folk, which is not true. Most of our collaborations have an element of contemporary or folk Naga music. To us, folk fusion is anything experimental with a hint of folk, a mix of genres/sounds with folk, or Naga folk reimagined. We don’t want to stick to a particular genre so we have been fluid and experimental,” says Kuku.
Mercy adds, “When we make fusion music, we are working as artists trying to find our space and make sounds we would like to hear and inspire others with. We have tinkered with western sounds to harmonise and support traditional melodies. We have reimagined traditional Chokri music, which is vocal-based, and added instruments like guitars, violin, keys, tabla, dholak and other mainstream Indian percussion instruments to our Naga sounds made by the Tati (traditional one-string instrument), Khro Khro (shakers) and Bamhum (traditional flute), among others. We have played around with electronic, house and disco music, and even written raps in Chokri, Hindi and English.”
At the heart of their music, however, is the folk aesthetic. As children, their parents acquainted them with the traditional Li (folk song in Chokri Naga) in songs. The Tetseo Sisters launched their first album ‘Li Chapter One : The Beginning’ in 2011 at the famous Hornbill Festival.
“When our parents moved to Kohima from our village Thüvopisü, they brought the music alive for their peers as well as us. They have been very instrumental in reviving and preserving the culture of our people. Our father also makes our instruments while mom is a master weaver and an expert in beading and making traditional jewelry,” says Lulu.
The Chakhesang Naga community is known to have a rich repertoire of folk songs. They are famous for their colourful costumes, dances and melodious songs in both festivals and everyday life. Li is an integral part of village life. There is a Li for every moment, and its flexibility is quite astounding. You can make verses to any song and sing along.
“Li is simple yet nuanced and poetic. The words are never quite what they mean and hold many secrets and stories. There are definite vocal parts for males and females. There is an equivalent of tenor, alto, bass and soprano for both male and female performers and a few interjecting harmonies as well. So in total, upto nine different harmonies can be sung together that don’t quite fall on the western scale, especially the classical yodels, vibrato and solo/duet vocalisations. Many of the Li have call and response patterns. Some Li are chants and only sung by males. Some are sung only by children and others by women. What is also distinct about Li are the throat voice projection and the mellifluous harmonisation,” Mercy explains.
“Through our art, we were learning more about our people, our history, the world we once came from and how far we have moved away from that life. Thus, it became imperative for us to document, record our work and have a tangible body of work to show for our journey. That culminated in our first album, which is a compilation of the first folk songs we learnt and loved, and saved for posterity,” adds Kuku .
The Tetseo Sisters during a performance
The process
The formula or process behind the band’s music differs with every song. Mhaseve, the brother, is the brains behind music production, and the sisters write the song lyrics. But these roles aren’t set in stone. Everyone offers their own inputs, and the process of making music is both collaborative and democratic. Take the example of their song ‘Hiyo’ from their EP, ‘A Slice of Li’ released in November 2019.
“Hiyo is based on a traditional tune and we have written new lyrics to add to the traditional ones. So we recorded the vocals as per the traditional beat and speed after we learned it from our parents. The music was later arranged and then produced by Mhaseve and a friend, Vitolu Zhimo (Vitz),” says Mercy.
Mhaseve adds, “Mostly, we write the lyrics first and then work on the melody. The traditional ones are usually based on the folk format and we rewrite verses keeping the original chorus intact. A few times, we had the melody and then wrote lyrics around it. Sometimes we write a full song like a poem, add a traditional chorus or verse, and then rearrange it to a more song-friendly format. It works in all kinds of permutations and combinations.” The Tetseo Sisters have mostly recorded their songs at Mhaseve’s bedroom-cum-studio in Kohima.
Connecting with the Indian mainstream
Bollywood cover songs have long been a staple of the sisters in their private performances. In December 2017 they did a cover of AR Rahman’s ‘Barso Re’ from the movie ‘Guru’ for an episode of Bindass Play’s Bollywood Republic. It took them just three days to learn the song, make a new arrangement, record and shoot the video.
Although the response to their performance was great, it was their next video that really caught the eye of many. It was the folk version of the song ‘Dil Diyan Gallan’ rendered by Neha Bhasin. Unfortunately, Azi couldn’t make it home for the session because of lockdown restrictions in her area.
“We enjoy singing many Bollywood songs and the connection it establishes with a mainstream audience. The instrument we used in the video is Tati, the Naga version of the ektara. It’s a traditional one stringed guitar played by the Chakhesang and Angami tribes of Nagaland. It merges beautifully with the folkish arrangement of Dil Diyan Gallan,” says Azi.
Tetseo Sisters during a live performance
Capturing beauty
A standout feature of the Tetseo Sisters are their music videos, where they capture the natural beauty of Nagaland and elegant Naga attire.
“Our videos are self-sponsored projects backed by the generous collaboration of artists who help execute our vision. In the ‘O Rhosi’ video, you see the festive colours of Naga textiles, beads and textures, as well as fusion wear – skirts, fitted drapes, tees with graphic Naga prints by artist Cynthia Kolakhe, handloom and woven corsets from our collaborator designer Keds Krome, who works magic with handwoven textiles of Nagaland, and even embroidered tops and boleros from our favourite handmade Indian label péro by Aneeth Arora,” Mercy explains.
The vibrant accessories and jewelry comes from Runway Nagaland, personal collections, and their mother’s treasures. The video is shot in picturesque locations across many iconic spaces in Nagaland and Manipur.
Dealing with the pandemic and the road ahead
While the sisters managed to get past the first lockdown without too much suffering, the second wave was brutal and filled with uncertainty.
“We haven’t had a live show in ages. Most of our efforts went into raising funds for people in bad situations. We had no earnings from music. We are simply grateful that we are all well in the family. Our prayers go out to those who have lost family and loved ones,” says Lulu.
The sisters are also working simultaneously on individual projects, and hopefully things pick up soon once this pandemic subsides.
“We feel great joy and validation in being able to represent the country, our land, tribe and state on important platforms. It is humbling and a blessing at the same time. We also feel that artists in Northeast India are finally getting due attention. We hope their representation gets fairer because the country belongs to everyone. We all need to feel that we matter,” says Mercy.
(Edited by Divya Sethu)
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Lamonte Pakyntein, a 30-year-old Hip Hop and R&B producer from Shillong popularly known as D-Mon, is the man behind the music that preserved my sanity during the COVID-19 pandemic. Growing weary of self-isolation and sending condolence messages to friends who had lost their loved ones on a near daily basis, I was fortunate enough to find D-Mon’s music marked by beautiful chord progressions, soulful melodies and messages of resilience.
The song ‘Don’t Stop’, featuring his bandmates Big-Ri (Ritik Roy Malngiang) and D-Bok (Donbok Kharkongor) from the Khasi Bloodz, who stand at the vanguard of Shillong’s Hip Hop movement, and the supremely talented Meba Ofilia, begins with these words of fortitude:
Here’s to the heartaches that pulled you through. Here’s to the walls you built to stop them coming back to you. Here’s to the bad times you’ve been there before. And oh your feet are sore and you can’t do it anymore.
D-Mon composed it at a time when he contemplated giving up music altogether. Like most struggling independent artists around the world, his music wasn’t paying the bills. Not coming from privilege, he didn’t know whether he could continue pursuing his life’s passion.
“Like many independent artists, that feeling of giving up has always lingered in my mind. But it’s the sheer passion for our craft that drives us. When the final product is done, it automatically becomes worth it,” says D-Mon, in an exclusive conversation with The Better India.
Cutting a long story short, he found a way, and more than a year later released ‘Done Talking’ featuring Big-Ri and Meba Ofilia, who won the Best India Act at the 2018 MTV Europe Music Awards.
In the same year, he managed to save enough money to finish constructing the studio for his label Mix & Flow Productions, which ranks among the best in the Northeast today.
Sounds of Shillong
Born on 17 December 1990 in Shillong, D-Mon was raised by his grandparents as his mother, a government servant, worked in Kolkata. Struggling with epilepsy in school, he was surprisingly not very fond of music early on, although it was all around him.
“At a very early age, my uncles made me listen to a lot of rock music. On Sundays, my grandparents would play gospel music, which had a massive influence on me, for the whole household. In fact, the first time I ever performed in front of an audience was during a Sunday school church service. Folk music was introduced to me through the radio every morning before school. I consumed it like it was a part of my breakfast. Also, many members of my family played various instruments — grandma played the piano, my grand uncle played the accordion and my uncle played the guitar. One way or another, all these elements played a role in helping me develop a love for music,” says D-Mon.
His ear for music came from listening to international artists like Bon Jovi, Scorpion, Steely Dan, Jimmy Reeves and Robert Cray, while there were local inspirations from Shillong as well which include R Waroh Pde, Donbor Rynjah and Amio Lyngshkor.
Hip Hop, however, found its way to D-Mon later on in high school, listening to albums from the 1990s like Tupac Shakur’s ‘All Eyez On Me’, Warren G’s ‘Take a Look Over Your Shoulder’, ‘Ready to Die’ by The Notorious B.I.G. and Dr Dre’s ‘The Chronic’. He would play these albums on his uncle’s cassette player in his room or outdoors with his friends.
“I started writing rap verses around 2004. It’s a funny story because I started writing raps as a way to remember my answers back in elementary school. So, I would rhyme stuff like important historic dates and significant names and it would work. As I grew older, I started to realise I had a knack for writing and it gradually turned into crafting verses. In the beginning, I struggled a lot but as time progressed and with practice, I got better,” he recalls.
Lamonte Pakyntein, aka D-Mon
Khasi Bloodz
It was during high school at a neighbourhood cyber café where he met Big-Ri through a mutual friend JCK (Jason Kharchandy). Bonded by their love for Hip Hop, the three of them would meet at the internet café, which became their default hang out spot.
“D-Bok, on the other hand, came to one of our school concerts in which I was performing a rap song, which I dedicated to Tupac Shakur and The Notorious B.I.G. There was a mutual love we shared for those artists, which led to our friendship. D-Bok then began joining the three of us at the cyber café regularly. It started with us listening to some rap music at the cafe which then turned into us rapping over beats. After rapping popular songs for a while, we realised the potential within us to write our own verses and began working on our craft. On 19 September 2009, which is Big-Ri’s birthday, we formed the Khasi Bloodz. He came up with the name,” recalls D-Mon.
One of the first songs they wrote was ‘Rising Stars’ in 2009. However, they only officially released the song in 2013 because they felt that the quality of production wasn’t up to scratch. “We wanted better quality on the production. So, we took time and earned some money, which we could pay to record our song at a professional studio,” he adds.
Each member found their way of earning some money on the side as they began studying in college. For instance, D-Mon would paint houses after exams, sell posters and work at his uncle’s coffee shop and a friend’s restaurant during his free time. All their side hustle, however, wasn’t enough to pay for a recording session at a professional studio.
From L-R: D-Bok, D-Mon, Big-Ri. Today, the group is represented by Big-Ri and D-Bok
“So, I dropped out of college to find more ways of reaching my goal, which my family wasn’t happy about. But I soon had the good fortune of meeting Mr Bari Khonglah, who was a renowned sound engineer back in the day. He ran a studio called Basement Studio, and I sought a chance to work for him in exchange for some studio time. I would help out with carrying speakers for outdoor events. And instead of paying us a salary, he provided us with the opportunity to record our songs and helped us mix and master them,” recalls D-Mon.
Released in 2013, the song and the official video for it put them on the map. Even though Hip Hop had always been around in Shillong, there weren’t any artists truly representing the city and Khasi identity in this particular space quite like the members of the Khasi Bloodz.
“Khasi Bloodz was officially the first artist/group to represent it for the town. It’s one of the biggest honours that we hold dearly to this day,” he adds.
But the hustle never stopped. Even as late as 2017-18, D-Mon and D-Bok were making sandwiches and burgers and selling them to offices, cafes and canteens in the city. The money they made was spent on buying instruments, recording equipment, etc. In many ways, the Khasi Bloodz exemplified the do-it-yourself (DIY) ethic of Hip Hop. Starting out in 2009, there were six members in the group. Today, however, it’s just D-Bok and Big-Ri.
Shillong’s Dr Dre
Beyond writing verses, D-Mon realised that he had an ear for music when he made the beat for ‘Rising Stars’. He stumbled onto a trumpet-like sound on the Yamaha DGX-500 keyboard, which ended up being the melody for the song, following which the drums and the rest were added.
As the Khasi Bloodz began to make their mark not just in Shillong but the entire Northeast and beyond, D-Mon came together with his best friend and sound engineer, Ardon Samuel Rumnong, to launch their label Mix & Flow Productions in 2016. As he continued to make music and perform for audiences, the next two years were also spent constructing the studio.
“The total cost for setting up the studio was approximately Rs 10 lakh. To get here, it took years of saving, building and investing. I can’t forget to mention the incredible role my grandparents played during this journey. The main drive behind setting up a studio was to primarily help and provide opportunities for untapped talent in Shillong. As soon as the studio was established, I was able to put all my focus into music,” he says.
As a producer, he has worked closely with and given a platform to young talents from Shillong like singer/rapper/songwriter Meba Ofilia, Reble (Daiaphi Lamare), Dappest (Dapher U-Na-Ki Laloo), while collaborating with other talent from the Northeast.
He adds, “Ever since I knew I had an ear for production, I fell in love with the art form. By 2018, I had fully transitioned to production. Big-Ri and D-Bok were always supportive and knew that one day I would make this transition. Today, while I produce for other artists, revenue for the studio comes in through clientele appointments and other musical projects.”
D-Mon working his magic in the studio
Vikramjit Sen (a.k.a Feyago), an indie rapper and producer based out of Kolkata, says, “D-Mon is my favourite producer from the Northeast—the ‘Dr Dre of Shillong’. He’s a perfectionist, who does not compromise on his craft or artistic integrity. His music is an acquired taste unlike say Stunnah Beatz (Rajdeep Sinha), a popular Guwahati-based producer, who delivers guaranteed hits. But if you want to break the boundaries of your artistry as a rapper or an R&B singer, D-Mon is the man for you. His work is as good as some of the most soulful jazz, blues or rock music that have come out of India. In order to enter his studio, you have to be all about the music. As a rapper, you’re not going to get away with tone-deaf bars.”
“D-Mon is usually fun and laid back, but his music has to be perfect. I’ve learnt a lot working with him. He is honest when it comes to telling me what’s good and what’s not,” says Reble.
Feyago adds, “If I were to make a food analogy, his work is like caviar, which is also an acquired taste. You may not enjoy his songs in the first few seconds and pop open some champagne. His music is more like sipping a glass of fine wine with a book in your hand.”
What also makes him stand out is his emphasis on using live instruments. “I was always fond of live instruments like drums, keys, bass, guitars, etc. The natural and organic sound that a real instrument brings to the table is important to me. My production style is a merging of two genres like Hip Hop and R&B, mixing old sounds and new and bringing my signature. I have taken inspiration from acclaimed producers like Jimmy Iovine and Hans Zimmer,” explains D-Mon.
“His approach to production follows the mantra that analogue is the meat, and digital is the gravy. Beat production is music, but it’s a little different from musicality. If you drop a hard 808 beat, put hi-hats on it and rap, you may impress the Hip Hop crowd. But D-Mon makes music for people who have never listened to Hip Hop before or aren’t into it. Compared to most Hip Hop producers, he makes music not just beats. There is a key difference between a beatmaker and a musical composer. D-Mon is an outright composer who happens to be into Hip Hop. I can count the number of Hip Hop producers in India who do this on one hand,” observes Feyago.
Even though Hip Hop artists and producers around India are racking up hits and massive online views, D-Mon doesn’t feel the pressure to fit in. “Fitting in doesn’t concern me because I’ve always been focused on working on my own sound. The aim has always been to support young talent who haven’t been discovered yet. That’s what drives me.”
“D-Mon is always on the lookout for new talent and wants to give them a platform. He has been one of the biggest factors in pushing the hip hop-R&B scene to its glory in Shillong and the Northeast since his time with the Khasi Bloodz. Today, he provides young artists with immense support to carry out their art,” says Reble.
While the pandemic has proven to be a struggle for his label, spirits remain high. Suffice to say, D-Mon transmitted that spirit to listeners like me who grew weary of the pandemic.
“I don’t know what the future holds for us but I’m positive that we’ll keep putting in the effort ‘2 Produce And Create’ quality music,” he says.
(Edited by Yoshita Rao)
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On November 26 and 27, Bengaluru residents will get to take in some music performances by tribal artistes and see an exhibition of rare tribal instruments at the Echoes of Earth music festival.
City-dwellers, totally cut off from the traditional tribal cultures of India, usually encounter this rich heritage only in books or on web pages. The Echoes of Earth music festival is trying to bridge this gap by bringing soulful tribal music from across the country to Bengaluru.
The festival will take place at the Embassy International Riding School in Bengaluru and will feature a special exhibition curated by Vadya Vithika museum of Kolkata.
About 50 musical instruments from different parts of north-eastern India, including Sikkim and Assam, will be showcased.
Vadya Vithika has a wide display of Indian tribal instruments
For example, the Tiwa community of Assam is well known for its soulful music, varied musical instruments and lively folk dances. Instruments like Khram (a long cylindrical drum that typically uses deer skin as the playing surface), Pangsi (a flute made of Bamboo), Singa Pepa (another kind of flute made of the horn of Buffalo) and Taal (a rhythm instrument consisting of two metallic cymbals) are used to play foot-tapping music during festivals like Jonbeel Mela, Borot Utsav and the spring festival Sagara Misawa.
Besides displaying musical instruments, the festival will also host performances by artistes from different tribes like the Tiwa, Karbi, Garo, Rabha, and Bodo from Assam and Sikkim, and the Warli tribe from the coastal areas of the Maharashtra-Gujarat border.
“I feel this is the need of the hour. I hail from the village of Karwar in Karnataka and have seen a lot of people playing a variety of instruments growing up. But the musical culture is getting diluted day by day. We just don’t get to see all these traditional instruments anymore,” says Roshan Netalkar, the festival director of Echoes of Earth. “So we thought, if we are able to show some of these instruments to music lovers and host performances, it might actually inspire people to pursue these fading musical traditions.”
The exhibition itself is being put together by the Eastern Zonal Cultural Centre (EZCC) of the Ministry of Culture. The EZCC hosts Vadya Vithika, an archive of rare musical instruments at their centre in Kolkata.
The permanent collection of over 400 vulnerable musical instruments housed in Kolkata is overseen by Professor Omprakash Bharti.
Vadya Vithika has a wide display of vulnerable Indian tribal instruments
“These instruments are vulnerable in the sense that due to modernization they have lost their originality,” Professor Bharti explained. “The wood and other animal raw materials have been replaced by modern substitutes. Moreover, they are used only by the tribes and communities and not by mainstream musicians.”
“Through surveys, we have identified such musical instruments and their gurus. EZCC organises different training programmes as well as musical instrument-making workshops to keep the art alive,” says Professor Bharti. “We are very happy to collaborate with Echoes of Earth, as this is the best platform to present these instruments to young musicians and music lovers who will be attending the festival.”
The Echoes of Earth festival will celebrate music from around the world while focussing on environmental conservation and sustainable living as well. The organisers want to have an ecologically-friendly festival, so they have introduced different environment-friendly practices like having the performance stage made of upcycled material, minimal use of plastic bottles at the event, and efficient waste management, etc.
To know more about the festival, you can visit the official website here and Facebook page here.
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Open Sky is an art community that offers a platform to different kinds of arts like music, poetry, stand-up comedy, theatre, and magic.
“If you ask me what I came to do in this world, I, an artist, will say: I am here to live out loud.” — Emile Zola.
Indeed! For an artist, it is as important to connect with other people as it is to create something. Art often takes shape and evolves in the process of its creation as well as interaction with its connoisseurs. That is exactly why all the artists crave a platform where they can present their art.
Bengaluru-based art community Open Sky aims to provide that platform to those who are creators of some sort.
Open Sky community members
The community believes in making available a safe haven for artists, where they can showcase their art and feel accepted.
“We tend to label art a lot. We, as a society, have been led to judge art in a competitive way. You are a dancer? How many shows have you performed at? You are a poet? How many poems have you published? So on and so forth. At Open Sky, we are trying to highlight a message that any artist is an artist, no matter how small his or her audience. Someone who has written just one poem is still a poet and deserves an audience to present that poem. We are providing that space where every single artist feels accepted,” says Shruthi Mohan, the head of Open Sky.
The idea for Open Sky came to Shaun D’Souza and Tim Lo Surdo two years ago as they enjoyed an impromptu slam poetry session at a friend’s house. After experiencing the vibe of positivity and connectivity that was created in the session, the 22-year-old duo decided to take it forward. Since the slam that inspired the idea had taken place on a rooftop, the community was named ‘Open Sky’, which also became symbolic of flying high and not being bound by any walls.
Shruthi Mohan was introduced to Open Sky when a friend dragged her to one of the sessions. She was hooked instantly. A trained classical dancer herself, she started venturing into poetry after joining the community. Having discontinued dance for a few years, she regained her lost confidence and received warmth and motivation at Open Sky. “Being a part of such a creative and enthusiastic group makes you want to experiment and explore,” she says. The initiative spread across the country when different people involved in the initiative moved to different places and took the seed with them.
“We were basically a group of friends who wanted to do something different. We all believed in the idea and therefore, it didn’t matter where we were. So, as some of our members moved to cities like Mumbai, Hyderabad, Pune, Calicut and Chennai, they continued arranging different events under the banner of Open Sky. The community grew within no time. The founders, Shaun and Tim, have moved to Australia for their higher studies and have continued some activities there as well,” says Shruthi.
For the past two years, Open Sky community has been trying to convert every possible space in these cities into a performance stage.
Core team of Open Sky: Aishwarya Iyer (left), Deepten Sarkar (middle) and Shruthi Mohan
Open Sky Slams take place in different premises like cafes, rooftops, public gardens, orphanages, rescue homes, and government schools. Participants showcase different art forms like music, theatre, poetry, dance, comedy and magic on stage.
“We have never denied any artist the joy of presenting his or her art. We are open to all kinds of art forms, and those who are merging the boundaries between them,” says Shruthi. When asked what the most special thing about Open Sky is, Shruthi reflects, “The fact that Open Sky as a concept is accepted by people of different art forms, genres and ages! We have had performers from the age of five to 55.”
Open Sky has also been collaborating with different art communities in the country. The group has been invited to perform at the Goa Arts and Literature Festival that is set to take place on December 9 and 10.
Dancers performing at Open Sky Slam
The community has been trying to raise funds to manage the logistics.
“Since we don’t have any source to get funds, we are turning to people to help us get to the arts and literature festival. We are trying to reach out to people individually and through our Facebook page so that we will be able to get support that will help us reach Goa and perform,” says Shruthi.
To know more about Open Sky and to support them for the Goa Arts & Literature Festival, visit their official Facebook page here.
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Grammy award winning DJ and producer, David Guetta will be performing in India in January, 2017, for a good cause — he wants to raise funds for underprivileged children here.
The superstar, often dubbed as the “Grandfather of EDM” has performed in India multiple times since 2012. The upcoming charity performance has been christened #Guetta4Good and it will take place in Bengaluru on January 12. The proceeds from ticket sales will benefit Magic Bus, an NGO that works for children living in poverty, through education and social experiences.
Talking about his performance, Guetta in a statement said, “India is a magical place. The energy that I get from the country and the fans creatively inspires me. Music can change lives.”
Sunburn’s CEO Karan Singh elaborated on the sentiment noting, “The idea of using music as a medium to raise funds to support our children is one that has connected with the youth of India and am sure we will see an overwhelming response for David’s performance come January.” Guetta has been performing and making music since the 80s but has found mainstream success with his 2009 album, One Love.
Magic Bus has chapters across the world with the one in India operating in 22 states and working with 4,00,000 children in the country.
The tickets for this special performance can be bought online here. Learn more about magicbus.org here.
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In the current, sometimes contentious landscape across the world, it has become increasingly rare to witness political opponents be civil to one another. But for one night in Shillong, two men with different political ideologies proved that not only can political adversaries be friendly but they can come together to perform a thrilling rendition of an iconic number by The Beatles too.
In a news story that almost feels like fiction, (but there is a video to prove it!), the Chief Minister of Meghalaya, Mukul Sangma, and Dr Donkupar Roy, who is the leader of the opposition party, were joined on stage by Paul Lyndoh from the United Democratic Party (UDP), and Parliamentary Affairs minister Prestone Tynsong for a crowd-pleasing performance of All my Loving by The Beatles.
The four men were at the ceremony to celebrate the wedding of Sangma’s daughter when they decided to take to the stage. The video, which has been uploaded on Facebook, shows the four men having the time of their lives dancing and singing.
Given Shillong’s reputation as the “rock capital” of India, it should come as no surprise that its political leaders are fans of one of the greatest bands of all time. Or that Sangma, who fronted his own band during his college days, can hold a tune.
But it was the easy camaraderie established by the men that seems to have everyone applauding. The two men are leading by example and showing that just because two people disagree on certain issues, it doesn’t mean they can’t get along.
Or share a mutual love for The Beatles.
Only in Shillong! The chief minister, members of the cabinet and the leader of the opposition belting out a Beatles classic recently! Divided by politics, united by music. Here’s to the spirit of lovin’… to all you folks.
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Do the names Pt. Bhimsen Joshi, Pt. Kumar Gandharva, and Ustad Amjad Ali Khan mean anything to you? While their contributions to Indian classical music hold a special nostalgic place for aficionados, to most people the mere mention of traditional music conjures images of a group of people sitting on stage performing in a boring, slow fashion. One Pune-based couple is working to break this stereotype through a charitable music trust, the Baithak Foundation.
Both Mandar Karanjkar and Dakshayani Athalye were brought up on a steady diet of Indian classical music. Mandar was just six when he began accompanying his mother to harmonium classes. Inspired and intrigued, he soon began to show an interest in Hindustani vocals, learning music from several different gurus owing to his father’s transferable job as a District Judge. He took singing lessons until he was 16, only giving them up to focus on his studies. It was in his second year of engineering that he realized he still carried a passion for classical music and became a self-taught flautist.
His wife, Dakshayani, has a similar story. Back in her Maharashtra hometown, Ratnagiri, she accompanied her mother to learn to sing kirtans. By the time she was 10, she was performing in villages across the state.
Despite having graduated with college degrees in engineering and law respectively, the duo found their calling in making Indian classical music accessible to the masses.
They have a unique approach. “Children, today, have no clue of what Hindustani classical music is as they hear Bollywood music more than anything,” says Dakshayani. “We are losing this traditional art in the process. The idea was to create an interest in classical music among children. Once children are interested, it is easier for them to understand the music form.”
In order to achieve this, the couple founded the Baithak Foundation in June 2016, a non-profit organization that approaches Indian classical music in a novel way. Sessions at Baithak try to make classical music interesting and understandable for students. They explore how certain frequencies are musical and how others aren’t. About 30-45 minutes of class time is spent listening to music.
Dakshayani believes that Indian classical music is not accessible to everyone, which is why she seeks to popularize and educate people about the art form.
Prior to setting up the Baithak Foundation, the couple conducted a pilot study for one year to test the waters. They visited a community centre for children in Pune to talk to students about Indian classical music. That’s where they discovered that children didn’t know who Bharat Ratna awardee Pt. Bhimsen Joshi was, nor were they aware of the Sawai Gandharva Bhimsen Mahotsav, an international music festival regularly held in Pune with thousands in attendance. “These kids living close by had no idea. Nobody knew what Mandar and I were talking about. They didn’t even know what ‘classical’ meant as a word. That’s when we decided that something had to be done,” recalls Dakshayani.
They chose to go to a community centre where school kids met after school to study and play in the evenings. The very purpose of visiting the centre was to learn something new and self-driven, so it became the perfect place to bring music to children.
First, Mandar and Dakshayani conducted an introductory session for an hour, singing to the children and asking basic questions such as ‘what do you think makes music?’ and ‘how is a tune made?’
“To make the session more interesting, we also sang a lot of film music in the sargam form to make students understand how these notes are the backbone of any music we create. It excited them and made them curious about classical music,” shares Dakshayani. Following the session, they asked the kids to sign up for a weekend class on Saturday where they showed them different documentaries on the lives of famous Indian classical musicians such as Shivkumar Sharma and Bhimsen Joshi. They then practiced vocals by listening to the tanpura and matching their swara, or pitch, to it. The couple conducted between 15 to 18 sessions in all.
While they found most children arrived with preconceived, often negative notions about classical music, they were still interested and curious to know more. They enjoyed listening to performances and looked forward to new records that were played. Dakshayani recalls how their questions were the most interesting aspect of the experience. “The things that are most obvious to musicians aren’t so to new listeners,” she explains. “For example, there is always a tanpura behind a singer. The kids didn’t know what it was or why it was there. They thought everything that looked like a sitar was a sitar. They didn’t know the difference between a rudraveena, a sarod and a tanpura. They also asked questions on how musicians improvised in classical music.”
It piqued the children’s interest to learn how a tabla player and singer from different parts of the country improvised on stage, yet appeared rehearsed.
Since their pilot study was accompanied by positive feedback, Mandar and Dakshayani decided to introduce a music appreciation course in three schools, including Pune Blind Girls School in Kothrud. At present, they reach out to 350 children in schools where they have designed an in-house curriculum for the teaching of Indian classical music and have appointed three music tutors to take students through the syllabus. While the two municipal schools operate a straightforward music appreciation course, a senior tutor has been appointed to conduct sessions for the visually impaired in order to provide them with advanced, vocational music training. The class of 20 schoolgirls here are taught to focus on the technique of how each tune or note is sung and how breath is controlled. Dakshayani believes that a lot of her visually-impaired students have the potential to become music teachers. “The best part about reaching out to the blind girls is that they are already interested in music.”
“They make their disability work in their favour as they are very receptive to sound and can easily understand what the tutor is trying to explain to them in terms of music.”
Their greatest challenge has been to make Indian classical music relevant to the present generation. This involves devising new teaching methods rather than sticking to the traditional guru-shishya teaching style. “It is difficult to work with music teachers as they have a rigid perspective on music,” Dakshayani confesses. “They have been taught to look at and think about music in a certain way by their gurus traditionally. Due to this, they don’t understand how kids want to be taught, and they don’t know how to connect with them.”
The couples’ version of a secondary school music course is completely different. “You want children to ask more questions and not just follow blindly. Unfortunately, teachers in the field are exactly like that. They don’t understand that children may not know a lot of the things they are talking about,” Dakshayani continues. “One of Baithak’s teachers was going to talk about different forms of classical singing – khayala, chota khayaal, bada khayaal, bandish etc. The lesson plan looked immaculate on paper. But in his class, he used all the above said terms but didn’t sing any of them to explain it to the students until one of the students asked for it.”
To address these issues, Mandar and Dakshayani are looking to strengthen their teacher-training to change their traditional teaching style and make Indian classical music more fun to learn. They are also considering associating it with subjects like science and history by talking to students about sounds, frequency and the history of the musical form. The couple teaches personally as well.
Today, the purpose behind classical music seems to have shifted from its original aspirations, which were to soothe the soul and mind.
“Artists today are playing to the gallery. Classical music has become more commercial and just another commodity in the market. It’s not looked at art for art’s sake,” says Dakshayani.
The couple aims to challenge blind notions about Indian classical music by making it mainstream. Their future plans include arranging for school concerts by local artists every month. After a 45-50 minute performance in the school hall, the children will be permitted to ask questions. The intention is to generate an interest through experience.
The Baithak Foundation is also devising a series of illustrated books for young children on Indian classical musicians and music. The first title in a seven-book series is on the life of famed Hindustani classical singer Kumar Gandharva.
“A musician once told us that classical music is for the classes, not masses,” Dakshayani smiles. “What they don’t realize is that the best classical musicians come from the humblest of backgrounds,” she concludes.
You can check Baithak Foundation’s website or their Facebook page for more details.
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He has been rewarded innumerable times for the legendary genius that he is. He’s not just a visionary but a luminary when it comes to the world of music. You ask him about a song that shook him and he promptly says, ‘Ma tujhe salaam’, stressing on the fact that neither his own music nor anyone else’s has made him feel that alive ever since. When asked who he credits his success to, he humbly invokes his mother and the director Mani Ratnam.
Music composer, record producer, musician and singer – Allah Rakha Rahman is not just a name but a phenomenon that happens once in a lifetime and we are lucky that he happened in ours. A man who undeniably revolutionized the Indian film music industry, Rahman’s songs are soothing, original and instantly connect to one’s soul.
The Mozart of Madras is in the race once again for an Academy Award with his work for ‘Pele: Birth of a Legend’ has finding a spot in the list of Oscar contenders for the year. Nominated in the Original Score category for the 89th Oscars, Rahman has truly done India proud yet again.
As A R Rahman turns 50 today, we bring you the little-known story of the maestro’s journey to winning his first National Award (the first time ever by a debutant music director!)
Born on January 6, 1966, as A S Dileep Kumar in Chennai, A R Rahman had a humble childhood. His father R K Shekhar, was a film-score composer and conductor for Tamil and Malayalam films. As a four-year-old, Rahman used to carry lunch for his father and watch him work. Rahman’s first composition came at the mere age of nine when he accidentally played a tune on the piano in the presence of his father. Later, the recording was converted into a full-fledged song ‘Vellithen Kinnam Pol’ by his father for the Malayalam movie ‘Penpada’.
Soon after, Rahman’s father passed away. With the burden of supporting his family fell on his young shoulders, it was his mother Kareema Begum who encouraged Rahman to stay strong during the testing times and follow in the footsteps of his father. Begum also began renting out musical instruments to provide for her family.
Unable to attend school regularly due to financial difficulties, he finally dropped out at the age of 11 and joined music maestro Ilayaraja’s troupe as a keyboard player. In his later interviews, Rahman would often recall:
“As a child, music seemed to be a means of earning bread and butter. I had no special fascination for it. It was associated purely with work”.
However, music soon became the only source of joy for Rahman. Dedicated and hard working, he learnt how to play several musical instruments under the guidance on M K Arjunan (Malayalam composer and close friend of his father) and began spending several hours with his musical instruments. As a kid, he was seen in Doordarshan’s Wonder Balloon where he got popular for being the kid who could play four keyboards at once.
Eventually, he started playing for other eminent composers of those times – M S Viswanathan, Ramesh Naidu, and Raj Koti. He also began accompanying Zakir Hussain, Kunnakudi Vaidyanathan and L Shankar on world tours. He then recieved a scholarship from the Trinity College of Music. Studying in Chennai, Rahman graduated with a diploma in Western classical music from the school.
Young A R Rahman with musician and playback singer Yesudas
In 1984, Rahman was introduced to Qadiri Islam when his younger sister, who was seriously ill, was treated successfully by a Sufi saint. In 1989, at the age of 23, he converted to Islam and changed his name from A.S. Dileep Kumar to Allah Rakha Rahman.
Back then, Rahman found work by composing scores of jingles for documentaries, advertisements and Indian television channels. He would later say that the experience taught him discipline because jingle writing required delivery of a powerful message or mood in a short time. One of the most popular ones from his jingle compositions was the one for Titan Watches, in which he used the theme from Mozart’s Symphony No. 25. Rahman was also a keyboard player in a Chennai band called Roots.
Rahman (extreme right) and the fellow members of his band, Roots.
Rahman’s film career began in 1992 when he started Panchathan Record Inn, a recording and mixing studio in his backyard. He didn’t know it back then, but it would go on to become the most-advanced recording studio in India, and arguably one of Asia’s most sophisticated and high-tech studios.
At the same time when Rahman was setting up his studio, ace Tamil movie director Mani Ratnam was on the lookout for a new composer to give music for his films. One day, at an award function for excellence in the field of advertising, Mani Ratnam chanced upon Rahman who had just received the award for the best ad jingle (which he had composed for the popular Leo Coffee ad). Sharada Trilok of Trish Productions, Ratnam’s cousin, had words of high praise for the young composer.
Curious, Mani Ratnam requested Rahman for a sample of his songs. The composer readily complied and invited the director over to his studio. Ratnam turned up at the studio only after six months, where the 24 year old lad played out a tune that hooked the director instantly. Without a second thought he signed on Rahman to score the music for his next film.
That film did not work out but Ratnam signed him on for a new film which was to be produced by the veteran Tamil director K Balachander for his respected ‘Kavithalayaa’ banner. That film was ‘Roja’. The tune Rahman had played on meeting Ratnam would become the song ‘Tamizha Tamizha‘ in ‘Roja‘.
The music of ‘Roja‘ was a runaway success. And the rest, as they say, is history. The film won Rahman the Rajat Kamal award for Best Music Director at the National Film Awards. This was history in itself, with the honour being given the first time ever to a first-time film composer. Since then, Rahman has gone on to win the National Award 3 more times, the most ever by any music composer.
Ten years later, Andrew Lloyd Webber invited Rahman to compose for his musical, ‘Bombay Dreams’, which ran for two years and later premiered on Broadway. Rahman also composed the score for the production of ‘The Lord Of The Rings‘, one of the most expensive stage productions ever. In 2005, his first soundtrack for Roja was listed in TIME’s ’10 Best Soundtracks of All Time’.
In 2008, Rahman gained global prominence with his score for “Slumdog Millionaire” winning two Academy Awards for Best Score and Best Song. Overall, he won 15 awards including two Grammys, a Golden Globe and a BAFTA. In 2009, Time placed Rahman in its list of World’s Most Influential People. The UK-based world-music magazine Songlines even honoured him as one of ‘Tomorrow’s World Music Icons’ in August 2011.
In recognition of his contribution to music, Rahman has been bestowed with the Padma Bhushan and Padma Shri, two of India’s highest national civilian honours, in addition to several other awards including 4 Indian National Film Awards and 25 Filmfare Awards, India’s leading recognition for films. His extensive body of work for film and the stage have also earned him the nickname ‘the Mozart of Madras’ with several Tamil commentators and fans also coining the nickname Isai Puyal (musical storm in English).
Former president Prathiba Patil presenting the Padma Bhushan A R Rahman at The Presidential House in New Delhi on 31 March, 2010.
In the age of music which is run and re-run by remixes and plagiarism, Rahman breathes a life into his works which has originality to say the least. In the last 25 years, he has given us one melody after another, and remains to this day one of the most influential music composers of India as well as across the world. However, he remains untouched by fame, mingling with friends, fans and colleagues with incredible humility.
Rahman is also deeply attached to his wife and children. His wife, Saira Banu, listens to most of his songs and even has her favourites. Whenever he finds time, he spends it with his family, taking his children on small trips and picnics.
On his 50th birthday, we wish the musical magician a very happy birthday and hope to hear more of his soulful music for many many years to come! Here’s a lovely interview of Rahman from 1992, from the hugely popular DD series Surabhi, which aired before he won his first National Award for Mani Ratnam’s Roja.
Here’s a video of some of A.R.Rahman’s best versatile songs.
Born with sensibilities far removed from Indian ethos, several foreign artists have nevertheless danced their way into the hearts of Indian classical music connoisseurs. Theirs is not just a passing fancy but a deep-abiding love that has helped them overcome huge challenges, from mastering difficult ragas to adapting to Indian classical instruments. Today, these Indian classical musicians of foreign origin are playing a unique role in enriching the musical heritage of the country.
Here are 8 foreign artists who have shown that the melody and richness of Indian classical music transcend boundaries.
The life of the Carnatic vocalist, the Malaysia-born Chinese Chong Chiu Sen, is all about transcending barriers; culture, nation and language. He was drawn to the symphonic Sanskrit verses in the bhajans in grade six and began singing a few in due course. It took a lot of convincing from his guru in Malaysia for Sen to arrive in Chennai during Margazhi season to acquaint himself with Carnatic music.
There, he learnt to play the veena briefly from the late Kalpakam Swaminathan. He realised his heart lay in singing when he’d often break into a song in the midst of playing the veena. His love for Carnatic music moved the octogenarian legend D.K. Pattammal to accept him as her student. He never looked back after that. Those who have listened to him marvel at his deep, sonorous voice, tonal clarity and purity of music even though the orthodox would find room for improvement in his pronunciation of Tamil words, which for the most part is almost perfect.
As a bansuri and saxophone player, Grammy Award winner Steve Gorn is know for his unique style of music across the world. Praised by critics and leading Indian musicians as one of the few westerners recognized to have captured the subtlety and beauty of Indian music, Gorn also has composed numerous works for theatre, dance and television.
A disciple of the late bansuri master, Sri Gour Goswami of Calcutta, Gorn continues to expand the tradition with his innovative recordings and performances. In addition to several impressive solo albums, including Luminous Ragas (released in 1994) and featuring four North Indian classical ragas, Gorn has collaborated with a lengthy list of world and jazz musicians.
Foreigners taking an interest in Carnatic music began with the British Raj. Most of them were interested in studying the art and not becoming artists. Jon Higgins, who combined research with a performer’s career, was therefore something of a wonder. An American, Higgins studied Indian music under T Vishwanathan and his well-known siblings T Ranganathan (who, along with Robert E Brown, pioneered the Indian music programme at Wesleyan University) and the legendary Balasaraswati.
Higgin’s outstanding singing soon had Carnatic audiences taking him to their hearts. His singing and his pronunciation, as though he had spent a whole lifetime soaking in Carnatic music, amazed everyone. After all, as Higgins humorously observed in an article written for The Indian Fine Arts Society’s souvenir in 1967-68, “is it not an obvious prerequisite that one must be born on the banks of the Cauvery to be able to appreciate, let alone sing Carnatic music?”
Born in Netherlands, Saskia Rao de Haas is unique in many ways. She plays Indian classical music on cello, trains music educators and loves introducing children to Indian music instruments. When Saskia Rao-de Haas came to India to train music under Hari Prasad Chaurasia years ago, she had no clue that she had taken one of the crucial turns of life – that she would fall in love and make the country her home. During her training, she found it uncomfortable that while her guru sat on the floor, she had to be propped up on a chair with her huge cello. That is when she decided to create an Indian version of the cello.
She got in touch with a friend who is an instrument builder in Holland and designed a smaller version that had five playing strings and 10 resonating strings (as opposed to the four playing strings in a standard cello). Thus the Indian cello was born. An artist who creates magic on stage, Saskia Rao-de Haas and her husband (sitar exponent Shubhendra Rao) have also started the Indian Music Foundation under which they train children in vocals, flute, Indian cello and other instruments.
Sarod maestro Ali Akbar Khan is not given to indulging in praise, much less false praise. But even he seldom fails to mention Ken Zuckerman, one of his most gifted foreign disciples, with pride and admiration. From a mere curious foreigner interested in fathoming the secrets of India’s exotic musical fare, Zuckerman went on to become one of the foremost performers of the art after spending 37 years under the rigorous discipline of the legendary sarod maestro.
In addition to performing classical Indian music with some of India’s finest tabla virtuosos (Swapan Chaudhuri, Zakir Hussain and Anindo Chatterjee), Zuckerman has been at the vanguard of numerous cultural “crossover” projects. In recent years, Zuckerman has also made significant contributions to the development of India’s traditional instruments through various innovations and inventions.
In 2007, when Shankar Tucker was attempting to play Indian classical music on his clarinet on a beach in Kerala, he was stung when a passer-by asked him if he’d just started playing. In fact, at that point, he had been playing for many years and was doing well back home. Now, he’s famous world over for fusing styles and giving Indian music a spin like no other clarinetist has done before.
Having grown up in Massachusetts, he got the name Shankar from spiritual guru Mata Amritanandamayi when he was in the third grade. Indian music was a growing interest when he was in university. His dreams of India came true when he received a grant to study with Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia. It wasn’t easy though. As the clarinet is traditionally seen as an instrument unsuited for Indian music, he initially had trouble getting in playing some notes. However, he soon succeeded and shot to fame with The ShrutiBox, his YouTube channel.
Born in Italy, Gianni Ricchizzi is one of few people who still play the ancient instrument, the vichitraveena. He got his degree as Master of Sitar and Indian music at the famous Benares Hindu University. While at Benares Hindu University in India, he also became interested in the vichitra veena. Thanks to its technical demands, the instrument has never had many prominent practitioners. With the death of his teacher, Zia Mohiuddin Dagar, Ricchizzi is now recognised as the foremost master of this unusual instrument.
When Ricchizzi returned to home, he founded the only centre for Indian music in Italy, Saraswati House. Over the years, Saraswati House has hosted many eminent Indian classical musicians. Ricchizzi currently teaches the sitar and the vichitra veena under a comprehensive programme at the Academy of Music of Vicenza that touches on many aspects of Indian music and culture.
A disciple of the legendary Shivkumar Sharma, Setsuo Miyashita from Japan gave up a money-spinning restaurant business in Nagoya city to learn the santoor. In a 2006 interview to the DNA, Setsuo Miyashita said,
“In 1987, I heard Shivji (Shivkumar Sharma) on a Japanese TV channel. It was six minutes of divine music. It completely changed my life. I knew immediately what was my calling. Few years later I came to Mumbai and met Shivji. I was a guitarist. Santoor is a very different instrument. Just imagine, the guitar has six strings, while the santoor has 100.”
Today, Miyashita is one of the leading Indian classical music artists in Japan who has taught the art of playing santoor to many aspiring Japanese musicians. His music is reknown for its focus on beauty, healing, peace and harmony.
Artistic community Kommune brings together poets, musicians and storytellers from across the country with the aim of creating quality content in performance art.
The idea behind Kommune is simple. Via the platform, an artistic ‘Kommuneity’ curates live performance art through workshops, live events, and videos, bringing together some of the best storytellers, poets and musicians in the country.
On Kommune’s YouTube channel, one comes across a vibrant mix of storytellers and poets, telling different stories. They talk about numerous things – being homeless in Mumbai, being an introvert, being an atheist, about falling or not falling in love, and about being fine and not fine at the same time.
They share one commonality — they all talk about something very personal to them, revealing a tiny part of their souls in front of the camera. The stories are near and dear to the performers themselves and therefore, instantly capture the attention of the audience.
“That’s the key, you see. People need to see something they can relate to. That’s why personal storytelling has become so popular. We, as humans, can relate more to the stories of vulnerability than stories of human success. People connect more with the storyteller who is comfortable with his or her imperfection and isn’t looking to hide it. They need to take away something from your story,” says Roshan Abbas, co-founder of Kommune.
Roshan co-founded Kommune with two of his friends Gaurav Kapur, a television personality; and Ankur Tewari, a musician in 2014. Roshan, having worked for a long time in theatre, radio as well as television, wanted to create a space where stories could be told with passion and free from commercial pressures.
“I and a bunch of my friends, including Ankur and Gaurav, would meet up and stage small performances. It was just for our fun, artists’ retreat, so to say! And when we’d meet up, we’d wonder, why isn’t there as much quality performance art created? That’s when we thought of starting something like Kommune – a platform for performance artists to come together and create something. We held a small meeting in a friend’s bungalow. A total of 15 people came to the meeting; it wasn’t like everyone knew everyone; it was more like friends of friends of friends getting together. It went really well and that’s when we saw the potential of the idea,” says Roshan.
About the same time, Vijay Nair, CEO of OML and a friend of Roshan’s, was planning the Stage 42 festival. When he heard about Kommune, he expressed an interest in witnessing a formal event. Soon, the team had a deadline in place. The first official Kommune event took place in February 2015 in Mumbai. After that there was no looking back.
“People’s attention spans are going down really quickly. And to be able to hook people’s attention, you need a great story and you also need a great performer. Our focus is on the method as much as on the content and the medium!” Roshan explains.
They started with the series The Storytellers that brought together some celebrity speakers with other speakers to perform.
Actor Tisca Chopra performing at Kommune’s event ‘Storytellers’
The Storytellers’ sessions were a place to experiment with the format, where the storytellers were aided by workshops to help them hone their skills. The only rule: every story needed to be based on reality. Soon, Kommune started experimenting with poetry, coming up with spoken word poetry and beat poetry performances.
Following the great response in Mumbai, Kommune started hosting shows in Delhi and Bengaluru and has plans to tour smaller cities in the near future.
“Although so far we have only been actively promoting and curating poetry and storytelling, we do wish to venture in other performance arts as well. Say, experimental theatre or dastangoi, for example. We are trying to look at forms which translate well to video. It has been a conscious decision to master these two verticals first! We also wish to organise our own festival soon,” says Shamir Reuben, spoken word poet and content head at Kommune.
Roshan feels that Kommune’s role, as a curator of performance art, is much-needed at present.
Roshan Abbas
With new avenues for the genre opening up, the quantity of content being generated has vastly increased. There’s just too much of content out there, a blundering amount, says Roshan.
“There are so many diverse narratives in digital storytelling. And there’s an open platform for everyone! Earlier, only those who had all the resources could tell their story — be it in any form. Now with the advancement of the technology, there’s power in everyone’s hands. It’s a good thing, because now the other side of the coin is also getting exposure. People who earlier had no place in storytelling now have the power to tell their story in their own way. Today, your only excuse for not telling the story is your own lack of energy,” says Roshan.
While technology seems to have levelled the playing field for artistes and amateurs alike, it also creates an important requirement, one that Kommune targets their efforts at.
Roshan explains, “The one thing that is lacking is curation. There’s so much content being generated every moment! And there’s no curation at all. We are trying to bring that to the storytelling space.”
To know more about Kommune, their events, and workshops, check their official website here, and Facebook page here. To watch their video stories, visit the YouTube channel here.
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On his 77th birth anniversary, we remember the singer who gave ghazals a new identity with his soulful yet simple renditions.
It has been about three decades since Sudarshan Faakir wrote the hauntingly beautiful lyrics that begin with Woh Kaagaz Ki Kashti… The lines, about wanting to relive childhood, attained immortality on their own. But when Jagjit Singh sang them for the Mahesh Bhatt film Aaj, he brought out the poignancy of the song in a way that transported listeners to another world. Such was the magic of the ghazal maestro’s voice.
“Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought,” poet P.B. Shelley had rightly observed. And when it comes to expressing sad thoughts through sweet songs, Jagjit was in a league of his own.
Rewind to his iconic songs from another Mahesh Bhatt film Arth – ‘Jhuki Jhuki Si Nazar’ and ‘Tum Jo Itna Muskra Rahe Ho’ – and their timeless ode to the feeling of love. And who can forget ‘Hosh Walon Ko Kya Khabar Kya’ and ‘Hothon Se Chhu Lo Tum‘? The longing, the pain of separation, unrequited love, silent admiration… these ghazals are about all these. And Jagjit expressed all that and more in a silken voice that captivated the listener in no time. Little wonder then, that he became arguably the most popular ghazal singer of all time.
Though the legend breathed his last at Lilavati Hospital on October 10, 2011, his soulful voice continues to resonate for ghazal aficionados around the world. Here are a few facts about the maestro’s life that not many know of.
1. His father wanted him to become an engineer or a bureaucrat.
Born Jagmohan Singh Dhiman in Rajasthan’s Ganganagar on February 8, 1941, to a Sikh family, Jagjit Singh was always interested in learning music and used to sing gurbani in gurudwaras from a young age. However, his father Sardar Amar Singh Dhiman, a government surveyor, wanted him to become an engineer or an IAS officer, and sent him to Jalandhar in 1959.
Jagjit took admission in DAV College, for graduation, but in his hostel room, there were more musical instruments than books. Soon, his interest in a professional career in music developed and he decided to undergo training in classical music by Pandit Chhaganlal Sharma and Ustad Jamal Khan of the Senia Gharaana. The rest, as they say, is history.
2. He began his professional career by singing for All India Radio’s Jalandhar station.
Jagjit Singh used to do live concerts for AIR Jalandhar
Jagjit Singh’s first recording was at the Jalandhar All India Radio station 52 years ago. He used to do live concerts for AIR Jalandhar six times a year. Later, he shifted to Mumbai (then-Bombay) to pursue his career as a singer. He initially survived by doing odd jobs, which included acting as an extra, before making a living by composing ad jingles and performing at weddings.
Sharing a small room with four others in Worli, Jagjit used to go up to Dadar for his meals, where the restaurant owner gave him meals for free. Gradually, he made a name for himself in the world of advertising jingles and started getting work as a playback singer.
3. He met his wife while singing an ad jingle in a studio.
Times changed, and in 1965, Jagjit came out with his first album. Two years later, he met Chitra Singh in a studio. Singh, born Chitra Shome to a Bengali family, had had no formal training. When she met Jagjit Singh in 1967, she refused to sing an advertising jingle with him. She recalled in a Filmfareinterview, “I told the music director that his voice was heavy and that I wouldn’t be able to sing with him.” She took the microphone reluctantly.
However, the duo clicked, in the studio and outside it. Chitra began singing with Jagjit and the duo were termed the “ghazal couple”. Their voices complemented each other’s beautifully – his deep bass gurgled like a river, while hers danced like an ethereal mist over it. In 1969, the two married.
4. In 1976, the talented couple released the legendary album, The Unforgettables.
Back in the early 1970s, Jagjit, who wanted to become a playback singer in Bollywood, was nowhere in the race against the likes of Mohammed Rafi, Kishore Kumar and Manna De. Then came The Unforgettables in 1976, the couple’s first album of ghazals that became the highest-selling album at a time when there was no market for non-film albums. Using chorus and electronic instruments, the path-breaking album firmly planted the duo on the music map.
The Unforgettables is also notable for one exceptional ghazal, Raat Bhi Neend Bhi, based on a Firaq Gorakhpuri poem. Chitra did not like the initial composition. Jagjit changed the tune and it became one of her most recognised solos in an album over which her husband towers with Baat Niklegi Toh Phir Door Talak Jayegi and Sarakti Jaaye Hai Rukh Se.
In 1990, Jagjit and Chitra’s son Vivek died in a car crash, leaving the couple devastated. Jagjit went silent for six months only to emerge stronger but his wife, Chitra, found herself unable to sing and became a near recluse after the tragedy. In fact, some of Singh’s finest works came after that tragedy as the pain seemed to have an enriching effect on his art.
These included ‘Sajda’ with Lata Mangeshkar, ‘Someone Somewhere, Hope’, ‘Kahkashan‘ with Ali Sardar Jaffri, Silsilay with Javed Akhtar, ‘Marasim’ with Gulzar and ‘Samvedna’ (featuring former prime minister Atal Behari Vajpayee’s poems).
6. A cycling enthusiast, he also liked betting on horse racing and stock markets.
Mornings began with a walk in the Mahalakshmi Race Course culminating in a cup of tea with friends in the lawn of Gallops restaurant. He enjoyed cycling and would say it took him back to his youth. Known among friends for his wit, the maestro used to come up with original Punjabi phrases that had others in splits while he himself would remain poker-faced.
He was also a friend and guide to many budding singers and lesser-known poets who came into the limelight because he sang their verses. He had a long association with the poet late Sudarshan Faakir of the ‘Woh kagaz ki kishti’ fame whom he had met during his Jalandhar days. In 1987, having heard a singer at a bar, Jagjit took him to meet Kalyanji Anandji who gave the young Kedarnath Bhattacharya a chance to sing in ‘Aandhiyan’ (1990). His name was changed to Kumar Sanu.
7. His curious connection with poet-lyricist Nida Fazli
“Duniya jise kehte hain, jadoo ka khilona hai; Mil jaye to mitti hai, kho jaye to sona hai.”
These poignant words written by Nida Fazli and sung by Jagjit Singh bear testimony to the greatness of these two legendary artistes — both joined in fate with the date February 8. On this date, in 1941, Jagmohan Singh was born in the Bikaner state of Rajputana in British India; 75 years later, on February 8, 2016, his genius colleague and the man whose words Singh often sung passed away.
An irony that may be seen as a symbol of the circle of life, or maybe an indicator of how these two artistes were connected, Fazli (Muqtida Hasan) was born on October 12, 1938, and Singh died on October 10, 2011, after battling years of cancer. During their careers, both Singh and Fazli touched hearts of thousands in their own way — often together.
8. His unique collaboration with Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan, Yash Chopra and Atal Bihari Vajpayee.
Jagjit Singh is the only composer and singer to have composed and recorded songs written by former Prime Minister of India Atal Bihari Vajpayee (also a poet) in two albums, Nayi Disha (1999) and Samvedna (2002). It was for a song from Samvedna, ‘Kya Khoya Kya Paya,‘ that he joined hands with Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan and Yash Chopra. It was written by Vajpayee, sung by Singh, the video was directed by Chopra, performed by Khan and narrated by Bachchan.
The man who took ghazals to the masses, Jagjit Singh touched unprecedented heights and a number of his songs are considered classics. He is also the first Indian musician to record a purely digital CD album, titled ‘Beyond Time’ (1987).
“Hothon Se Choolo Tum, Mera Geet Amar Kar Do” was the legendary singer’s favourite ghazal, and his geet (song) will truly remain amar (immortal) everywhere. In February 2014, Government of India released a postal stamp in his honour to commemorate his immense contribution to the world of music.