He walks on to the stage and the atmosphere is electrified. The roar of the crowd and an endless standing ovation moves him beyond words as he clasps his hands together in acknowledgment. Elegantly clad, charismatic, he remains an amazing musician at 84, in spite of the ill health that has dogged him in recent years.
While I have loved Ravi Shankar’s music for years, and read about his life and his great influence on George Harrison of the Beatles, I first saw the maestro live in concert three years ago at the Rialto Center for the Performing Arts at a sold out concert in Atlanta.
A day earlier, Ravi ji had done a telephone interview with me from New York since he normally does not do interviews on the day of the concert. When I complained he was one of the few people I wanted to interview in person he exclaimed, “Bless your heart. Then you must meet me after the concert in Atlanta.”
Accompanying him that evening was his daughter Anoushka. She is a spitting image of him – her long, graceful fingers trying to move in unison with his, their feet tapping together to the same rhythm as they enthralled an adoring audience. Anoushka said she has to stare at her father all the time when they perform together, because they never rehearse and 90 percent of the time it is all improvisation on stage. She also said for her the greatest high had come not from winning music awards but being chosen homecoming queen. It was based purely on her own merit and popularity in school and not because she was Ravi ji’s daughter. Anoushka was sent to a public school by her parents. Her mother’s touch is evident in her well-rounded upbringing and down to earth demeanor. She was stunned when I asked her what Dad thought of her penchant for the group Metallica! “How did you know that?” She gasped and then burst into peels of laughter… “No one knows that!”
At the end of the concert, thinking the duo would be tired, I thought to myself “Maybe they were just being polite when they both insisted I meet them after the concert.” I decided to leave. The director of Rialto came running to me and said, “Please don’t leave. The Shankars have requested you stay back to meet them.” I did just that, and after meeting Ravi ji, Anoushka and her lovely mother Sukanya, whose smile can light up the darkest interiors, I left feeling like I had just been enveloped in a huge blanket of warmth, simplicity and genuine affection.
Three years later, last week, I flew to Michigan because both Ravi ji and my other all time favorite musician, Sarod maestro Amjad Ali Khan, was performing along with his equally wonderful sons Amaan and Ayaan. Two superlative concerts within a span of four days? I would be crazy to pass on that!
I requested a personal interview with Ravi ji and it was a pleasant surprise to see how relaxed and efficient his entire team is. His lovely tour manager Terry Galindo, who could pass off as a cousin of Anoushka and Norah herself, promptly called me upon receipt of my email and made all the arrangements. Ravi ji’s managerial office faxed a letter on very short notice to the University of Michigan’s crotchety organizers wanting written permission to allow my photographer to do the pictures even after the manager had verbally spoken to them about it.
Ravi Shankar performed solo this time as Anoushka is on a one year sabbatical working on an album that Ravi ji mischievously called one with a classical base and some “mirch masala”. There was not a single empty seat in Ann Arbor’s Hill Auditorium which houses about 4500-plus people. As Ravi ji walked onto the stage, this seemingly frail man, as elegantly dressed as ever folded his hands in humble salute to the thundering ovation. His face lit up with a disarming sweetness, a trait that makes him so endearing.
Tanmoy Bose
Ravi ji always brings one disciple with him to showcase his talent and mentor him onstage. On this occasion it was sitarist Parimal Sadaphal. He was also joined onstage by tabla accompanist Tanmoy Bose. Over the course of the next 2 ½ hours, Ravi ji proceeded to overshadow both with his incomparable touch on the instrument that has become an extension of him. He began with a Raga that he had conceived almost 45 years ago and never gave it a name. He just kept playing it all these years searching for anything that closely resembled it. Finally after a lot of research and studying old scriptures a friend of his told him there was a raga in the South Indian Carnatic system that followed the same pattern called Jansamodhini. One thing that seems to bring the audience to its feet every time is his final rendition. He typically picks a Raga (and that night he chose Manj Khamaj) and creates an intricate musical garland (or Ragmala) where he touches on folk tunes, other neighboring ragas and talas before returning to the original thematic raga. It is a beautiful pattern of melody in the way everything diverges, converges and blends going back to the beginning. The music reached a frenetic climax at speeds that did not seem capable of being produced by a man in his mid-80s. The appreciative crowd applauded long after the musicians left the stage. As people filed out into the autumn night, the effect of the music was evident on every smiling face that exited Hill Auditorium.
For me that magical night extended next day into a noon session of finally meeting the maestro face to face. I see again why he is so lovable. He is extremely humble, very honest about his life, his flaws and there is sweetness and innocence that shines through his eyes as he patiently answers my questions. I hear that they are doing a bus tour because he doesn’t like to travel without his cat. For some reason stroking her gives him relief from ill health. I also hear that he has to be constantly performing, constantly creating or he falls ill. What gets him really excited is the fact that my friend Ajit who is hosting me in Michigan has learnt sitar and tabla from a disciple of one of Ravi ji’s senior disciples Vachaspati Sharma. “So then you are my grand disciple!” he says excitedly, and then proceeds to introduce Ajit as his grandson to everyone. We joke that the doctor who hosted the Shankars for lunch that afternoon must have been wondering “Where did this grandson come from?” The confusion is understandable, especially in light of the world being introduced to his other immensely popular daughter Norah Jones only recently. Yet joking aside, it must be of immense satisfaction to him that his musical legacy continues to increase multifold and he can go to any part of the world and find his music manifest in third-generation disciples like Ajit.
As we part ways, he says improvisation to him means never having to stop. In Hindu mythology, the origin of classical music began with the first sound of the Nada Brahma or Om. The Nada Brahma was believed to be the purest sound ever made, a representation of divine power, and it is the ultimate goal of every classical musician to attain the same level of purity. Ravi Shankar, at 84, still creates divine music and aspires to reach the Supreme with his creative genius.