DHRUPAD maestro Ustad Rahim Fahimuddin Dagar is an angry man. "This is an era of pretentious farce, as a result of which purity in Hindustani classical music is dying," he fumes about the much hyped collaborations in world music.
To be sure, purists have always been rather apprehensive about excessive creative freedom. But with leading classical musicians now increasingly combining diverse musical forms, custodians of the old school are getting particularly edgy.
The assertion of non-conformist attitudes is clearly evident with musicians like Zakir Hussain and Amjad Ali Khan, who have a strong base in Hin-dustani classical music, challenging the dictates of tradition like never before. Khan, who has composed ghazals, music for ballets and even a symphony which was performed by the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra in 1992, argues: "If you follow tradition blindly, whatever creativity there is within gets murdered. It is highly useful to reach out to western classical music because the exchange of creative thought only enhances the range of music."
Guitarist Vishwa Mohan Bhatt, who has successfully teamed up with many western musicians and has a Grammy under his belt, agrees: "One should be progressive, and try to ensure that ones music acquires a global perspective that is unifying."
The purists are not impressed. They feel that the centuries-old gharana tradition and the value systems that held musicians together in the past are not being given due respect. Says Dagar: "In the name of fusion music, artistes leave the nation and settle abroad. Things may come to such a pass that someone keen to know about Hindustani classical music might have to seek the roots of his native culture outside the country." What upsets him particularly is the idea of genuine Hindustani classical performers stepping outside their territories and "composing music that does nothing beyond tickle the fancy of westerners".
Ustad Asad Ali Khan, who plays the rudra veena which is considered the most ancient among classical musical instruments, agrees with the sentiment. He firm-ly believes that the Hindustani classical music system is such that any effort to combine it with its western counterparts "must lead to nothing". He notes that unlike western classical music, whose compositions conform to a set pattern, ragas are performed in consonance with time and the audiences mood. "Spontaneity and emotions play major roles, and these cannot be written down like western notations that begin and end everything," he says. According to him, this contrast makes musical alliances impossible and the experiments are therefore suspect. "They basically serve the purpose of showmanship. Besides, they are able to deceive those who know nothing about Hindustani classical music and who would view the act as really innovative or distinctive."
It is tempting to dismiss the controversy as merely another example of the generation gap. But a Bombay-based vocalist, whose performances are credited with strong spiritual content, is just as, if not more, critical of the cultural crossovers. "Maybe, since they havent worked hard on their own music, they need to revel in such tomfoolery outside the country," she says caustically. "Though the odd exception is there, the average experimen-talist is someone who is out to earn lots of money through pompous trials that have very little substance to talk about. "
The cross-cultural dialogues have indeed failed at times. The fact is that simply teaming up with renowned western musicians does not guarantee success. Zakir Hussain, who is often accused of displaying his cascading mane ahead of his skills on the tabla, featured in what is probably the biggest disaster in the history of com-mercialised fusion music, an album titled Eyecatcher, featuring L. Shankar, Bruce Springsteen, Stewart Copeland and Peter Gabriel. Yet, his obsession with fusion continues.
Bhatt, on the other hand, has had his fair share of accolades. In 1993, he teamed up with seminal blues guitarist Ry Cooder to produce the critically acclaimed Meeting by the River. And on the anvil is a fusion package featuring a collaboration with J. Bing Chan, a Chinese folk violin player.
Some musicologists would, of course, trace the roots of this conservative-radical divide to Pandit Ravi Shankars work with Yehudi Menuhin and David Oistrach in the late 1950s. But while the sitarist was able to tide over the storm of objections and retain his standing as one of the Hindustani classical music greats, the present generation of innovationists seems to have ample criticism in store. As the debate rages, the strains of dissent are becoming clearly more audible.
