Promoters of Sufi kalam
By Shivani Bhakoo
“SUFI singing is like an incense stick which fills the entire atmosphere with fragrance and happiness.” These were the views expressed by the famous Wadali brothers — Puran Chand Wadali and Piare Lal Wadali, promoters of Sufi kalam of Patiala Gharana of musicians — who were recently in Ludhiana for a musical nite.

Art & Culture
Suparna Saraswati
Rhythms from Reunion
ALLIANCE Francaise Le Corbusier Chandigarh provided yet another evening of pulsating music by organising the Maloya concert at Tagore Theatre. A family troop of 11 members led by Gramoun Lele has Indian links in its composition as the grand old man was born of a Tamil father and a Bata-Madagascan mother.

Koihatir Dhuliya struggling to survive
By Durba Ghosh
HE toiled amidst poverty and hardships to keep alive the vibrant folk art of Kamrupiya Dhuliya but in the twilight of his life struggled to eke out a living for himself and his wife.

Doyen of a hoary tradition
By Vandana Shukla

ON his recent tour of the Indian sub-continent US President Bill Clinton, drew a beautiful analogy between the Indian classical music and a holistic approach to life, while addressing parliamentarians. But, here, in the country of the origin of this great tradition and knowledge, few could relate to it’s significance This is what pains the only surviving son of legendary Padma Bhushan Pt. Krishnarao Pandit, a doyen of Gwalior Gharana.

Lakshman K. Pandit, 64, grandson of Pt. Shankar Rao Pandit, who was a direct disciple of the founders of Gwalior Gharana Ustad Haddu Hassu and Nathu Khan, is a dejected man today. The tell-tale humility of his disposition points to a battered sense of pride that one inherits being a doyen of a hoary tradition. Destiny too played mischief with him. When his elder son Tushar, whom he had groomed in the classical tradition with great hopes died in a DTC bus accident, his hopes of reviving this tradition received a blow. Tushar was a vocalist of great promise. And the frustrations received from the man-made society have just added to it. The sole reason for his being a modest presence on the classical music scene is that he still holds fast to his traditional values. As in music so in life.

Whereas sarod players from the same gharana became star performers in the post-independence era and virtually monopolised the scene, the rich vocal tradition of Gwalior, the fountainhead of all gharanas in the northern India could not get its rightful due. Things changed so drastically after the abolition of states, that, artistes, used to placid traditions, failed to cope. Not all, though. Whereas Ustad Hafiz Ali Khan came to stay in Delhi just after Independence and promoted the status of sarod, his father Padma Bhushan Pt. Krishnarao Pandit stayed back in Gwalior to continue to serve the vocal tradition. Nor did he let his son migrate to Delhi or Bombay where prospects of professional growth were higher.

Things had changed so much that instead of devoting oneself to gayaki, making right connections had become more important. Gone were the days when in Gwalior a singer of the court could mortgage a raga to raise money. Such was the respect for music that a singer’s salary and perks were higher than that of an officer. The Scindhia kings themselves were students of music. Hence, respect earned by these singers was immense.

Now, these very singers were supposed to please the whims and fancies of babus who were not even qualified in appreciating good music. Then, those were the days when fathers did not promote their sons, till they had become mature artistes of their own accord. So, finally after his long training in music when Laxmanrao Pandit did come to Delhi, it was to take up a job with AIR as music producer and later in Delhi University. With traditional values and natural pride, it was difficult to survive as a freelance singer.

This was not the only case. There were many who shared the same fate like L.K. Pandit. Unlike other artistes of the time, his father, though gave hundreds of concerts all over the country, could never make a commercial proposition of his talent. Not only his father, he says, most vocalists of the period failed to commercialise their art. Hence, instrumental music got an edge above the vocal music, till the next generation of singers came in the picture. The great vocalists of the age Ustad Amir Khan, Pt. Onkar Nath Thakur and Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, none could exploit the marketing strategies of a new democratic polity.

L.K. Pandit ruses that since Independence artistes have grown and flourished, but art has suffered. Some artistes have become rich, have also popularised art in different forms but, in the process purity of art has got diluted. Enrichment of art has taken a back seat. All academies and councils with their impressive budgets and galaxy of stars have failed to do even in iota of work that artistes could quietly produce under the guidance of their ustads while reputations are built on media hype, outside the domain of music.

L.K. Pandit is a repository of a fantastic treasure of rare and ancient compositions handed down the generations by his illustrious ancestors. Some of these have been recorded by Ford Foundation, Sangeet Natak Academy, AIR Archives and Samvad Foundation, lest they slip into oblivion. The Gwalior Gharana of Ashtang gayaki, a systematic eightfold elaboration of the rage with a balance of aesthetics and purity of form is a rarity, only few undertake. He happens to be one of them. What worries him is a dwindling number of even enlightened listeners.

He says, classical traditions are not a pool, that one can keep on withdrawing from. They are like a flowing river, ever changing with the changing demands of time. If they are not enriched with new supplies either they will perish or will change beyond recognition. The new frenzy of fusion is a result of this lack of healthy growth of art. When healthy food is not made available, people will substitute it with junk.

L.K. Pandit believes it is the duty of the artistes to grow out of stardom and help art grow, beyond petty considerations of money and fame. No one knows today the names of the masters who composed our great Vedic hymns. Who knows the artistes who painted the Ajanta caves or carved the great Konark? Money is no criterion for assessing art. His modest living exemplifies what he says.

His only worry, that the great tradition of khayal gayaki of Gwalior should survive, now finds a new lease of hope in his daughter whom he has prepared under strict discipline of gharanedari. The discerning listeners are optimistic. In Meeta Pandit they find a new hope for the survival of this 300-year-old tradition. And this brings back the fading smile on L.K. Pandit’s weathered face. 

Promoters of Sufi kalam
By Shivani Bhakoo

“SUFI singing is like an incense stick which fills the entire atmosphere with fragrance and happiness.”

These were the views expressed by the famous Wadali brothers — Puran Chand Wadali and Piare Lal Wadali, promoters of Sufi kalam of Patiala Gharana of musicians — who were recently in Ludhiana for a musical nite.

On being asked about how they feel about pop singing in comparision with their classical ‘gharanedaar gayaki’, the down-to-earth duo opined that musicians should strive to provide a meaningful entertainment. “Generally pop singers use meaningless lyrics, and their composition and music too is not up to the mark. Pop singing is like a flash of lightning that is there one second and gone the other,” remarked Puran Chand Wadali.

The Wadali brothers entered into the world of music under the guidance of Pt Durga Das of Amritsar who also belonged to Patiala Gharana.

Recalling their foray into the world of music, they say their father, late Thakar Das, who was also a singer, used to beat the elder of the two, Puran Chand, for not going to school. “But because of my great passion for music. I bore everything and even encouraged my younger brother Piare Lal to take to singing as it provided satisfaction, happiness and entertainment”, he says.

For the first time they sang at the village ‘mazaar’ which provided them with both money and acclaim. “After the incident our father began encouraging us and we started doing jugalbandi under his guidance,” says Piare Lal.

Talking about the early experience Piare Lal innocently narrates an incident which is proof enough of their simple nature and ignorance about the mundane world: “We were initially misinformed that the microphone pulls the voice of the singer, thus we used to hesitate singing in front of the mike when we went to give our first performance at AIR.”

They feel sad about the condition of folk artistes. They say, “There is no dearth of good artistes in the country, but they fail to come into the limelight due to the absence of any concrete help from the government, public and sponsors.”

Today there is a limited class of people who recognised the Wadali brothers. The pop crazy crowd just ignore their singing and they feel left out in the crowd. 

Art & Culture
Suparna Saraswati
Rhythms from Reunion

ALLIANCE Francaise Le Corbusier Chandigarh provided yet another evening of pulsating music by organising the Maloya concert at Tagore Theatre. A family troop of 11 members led by Gramoun Lele has Indian links in its composition as the grand old man was born of a Tamil father and a Bata-Madagascan mother.

A 67, Lele is the master of the Maloya having composed 200 songs that communicate his daily life, dreams and inspirational rhythms from nature like the ocean. This islander is also known as a sculptor-renovator of the “bondies” (Tamil gods) which the natives install in their little temples. Currently, Lele spends time in restoring ancient sculptures, an activity that involves a lot of skill and precision. So he is a musician with a difference.

To geographically place the Maloya within the cultural dimensions of Reunion Island, it is necessary to bear in mind that the island mapping 2,512 km was first inhabited over 350 years ago. Possessing a cross-section of human ethnicities, Reunion has an amazing canvas of diverse socio-cultural groups which intermingle diasporically. Today the island is cohabited by 1,80,000 of mixed ethnicity, descendants of Africans, Europeans, Indians, farm workers or small landowners. Several thousand Malabars or Tamilians, hailing from south India were employed in sugar factories. It is from this group that the present Maloya band of Lele and his members arose attempting to redefine the plantation society engendered into a dual social reality that can be found in their music.

The term Maloya is of Malagasy origin “maloy aho”. The expression Maloya means to speak, to rattle on and to say what one has to say. Hence, it is both an art form for dance and music which was introduced by slaves from Africa or Madagascar. Though its origins are unknown yet some people had noted Indian influences within this type of music. Interestingly, such a form of music is supposed to have been practised secretly in the past and even forbidden until recently.

The highlighting feature of this traditional art form is characterised by alternating phrases between the sole singer and the chorus, the latter prolonging the soloist’s phrase or answering it. The elements used as the Maloyan instruments of music consist of ouler, kayanm, triangle, sati and bobre. The musical compositions reflect evidences of several languages and their transformations such as Creole, Malagasy and Tamil expressions either following each other or inter-mixing. The tradition of this music revolved around various ritualistic events of the people of the island, for example, at the time of honouring the dead, the kabare rhythm is played.

The evening was sparked of by a dramatic entry of four artistes emerging from the aisles as if to invoke the music deity on to the stage before beginning with their compositions. The first number was a trivial folk song heavily percussioned accompanied by an agile girl artiste who swayed gracefully throughout the song.

Dressed in his native costume. Lele is respectfully invited by a younger artiste in the subsequent composition which has tremendous similarity with our pahari tunes. The tinkling sound of a bell and the folded hands of the lead singer gave the entire song format of an Indian ‘aarti’. The ‘dufflies’ and ‘dhol’-like instruments of the Maloya musicians showed apparent evidences of its Indian musical lineage.

The concert on the whole gave the young and vibrant audience foot-tapping and hip-swinging songs throughout the evening. The entire performance had a comic dimension to it wherein everyone was an actor, each one giving the other an answer, a convivial meeting place for everybody. This is Granmoun Lele’s perception of music Maloya.

Koihatir Dhuliya struggling to survive
By Durba Ghosh

HE toiled amidst poverty and hardships to keep alive the vibrant folk art of Kamrupiya Dhuliya but in the twilight of his life struggled to eke out a living for himself and his wife.

To 104-year-old Mohan Chandra Barman, popularly called Mohan Bhawria, goes the credit of popularising the folk art of Dhuliya. Bhawria took his art form to the national rostrum earning fame as also the Sangeet Natak Academy award in 1985.

The Dhuliyas and their art, however, are now on the verge of being wiped out due to neglect, apathy and onslaught of various new sources of entertainment, says Hemanta Das, who has captured their life in a new film.

Bhawria is responsible for the revival of this art form from oblivion and dedicated his entire life to popularise it particularly in the rural areas of the state, but he died a disappointed man recently as the Dhuliyas hardly received any invitation to perform on festive and religious occasions.

“Earlier, we used to receive many invitations from far-off places to perform in marriages, funerals, annual religious functions and on several other occasions, but now such invitations have become rare. We are still surviving on these rare performances,” says Bhawria in the film.

Das poignantly portrays the captivating art form and the saga of the maestro in helping to preserve it in his 40-minute documentary ‘Koihatir Dhuliya” (drummers) of Koihati) which was the only Assamese film to be selected for the Indian panorama at the recent International Film Festival of India, 2000.

“The Dhuliyas of the Kamrup region in Lower Assam are parties of drummers who provide music on auspicious and festive occasions, perform acrobatic feats and dramatic skits replete with wit, humour and social criticism.”

The filmmaker with several award-winning documentaries and features to his credit says the Dhuliya performers have provided entertainment in the rural areas since times immemorial, but now their conditions is pitiable.

“I have tried to capture this rich performing art and present it to the world so that it is saved from fading into oblivion,” Das points out.

The 104-year-old maestro’s face lights up with child like enthusiasm before the camera as he talks about his performances during his heydays.

He recalls how he had learnt the various techniques and nuances of this art form from his seniors like Kuhi Das and Muhi Das and subsequently formed his own troupe “Koihatir Dhuliya” (drummers of Koihati).

Kamrupiya (Dhuliya is a constituent of songs, dance, circus and a typical folk theatre called “chong” which “narrates various themes, including contemporary issues”.

“In Chong, the performers thrive to pass on messages to the masses and we had always strived to include messages in our dramas which affect the lives of common people,” he says.

Bhawria travelled for a wide with his troupe and received recognition and appreciation from several quarters.

“I have performed a lot of drama and earned accolades and fame. Even people who did not understand our dialect came to watch our show and left wonderstuck,” the maestro reminiscences in the film.

The film captures some rare shots of the maestro performing during his last days which the director points out will be precious documents of a rich heritage.

Bhawria also sings in the film in a voice wavering with age and as he performs with his trembling body for the camera, the image of a lonely man struggling to live with his wife is brought home to the viewer.

The film is replete with vignettes of the art form staged by members of the troupe and also succeeds in portraying accurately the ambience of rural life in Lower Assam.

Das has also successfully captured the prevailing sense of despair among the performers who are desperately trying to keep their art form alive in the face of all obstacles.

“The performers are poor — barely able to make their ends meet, but their commitment to the art form is indeed amazing,” says Das.

The performers battling against poverty but true to their art form are captured poignantly by Das as the artistes point out that their earning from a performance is not even sufficient for a single meal.

The onslaught of the electronic media and other forms of entertainment, however, have made their presence felt in rural Assam and there are very few takers for Dhuliya performers now.

“The youngsters are not willing to take up the art form and unless some concerted efforts are made at this stage, the day may not be far when the Dhuliyas become a thing of the past,” says Das.

Amidst this apathy and facing numerous hardships and constraints, the troupe ‘Koihatir Dhuliya” survives and Mohan Bhawria, lives on wedded to his art till the end despite being deprived of his legitimate dues, including his pension. — PTI