I am the sound of my Veena...

World Space's Satellite Radio's 24-hour Carnatic Music Station, Shruti interviewed Veena artiste E Gayathri last Saturday (21st March 2009) morning. The interviews in this time-slot are interspersed with music by the artiste and reveal their artistry as the artistes themselves would describe it.

I was fascinated and charmed by what E Gayathri said about the sound or naadam of her Veena. She said "if I were to play a Veena for about 150 hours, the Veena gains a sound that is specifically mine". 

Her three different Veenas at home are all of the same naadam. How does this happen? She says the Veena is an instrument that takes on the breath of the player. That is why the sound of an artiste's music is unique, irrespective of his/her style of playing or expertise.

If you have listened to Gayathri's music, you will have realized that the sound constitutes a major part of what we enjoy in her music. Sound rather than the craft. This is possibly what art-critics explain by resorting to notions like "genuis", unable to say: if 'everything is craft', and therefore learnable as well.

One's breath, one's personality, one's way of being in this world contributes to the music one makes, and very concretely at that, it seems. Gayathri also told us that there are breathing practices she engages in and that she realizes when her "breath stops". This she regards as necessary for her music. "Although for 3 hours at a concert, one cannot actually hold one's breath, there are breathing practices that when perfected amount to the same", she said. So, contrary to everyday expectations (our common sense), breath is what needs to be "stopped" in order to create. 

In moments of full preoccupation and utter concentration, I realize that I am not breathing or that it is very light. This runs counter to the injunction: "breathe, deeply" when in a panicked situation. Do both these understandings arise from the same premise? That's an important question. But I need more space to think about that... 

But if there is no breath, there is no artiste, is it not? (Or at least some of our notions of self/subjectivity give way. Is it not?) Who then is creating the music? ...And is this not true for all acts of creation as well? ...And possibly even all actions as well? Is this indeed what musicians indicate when they give all credit to the Goddess of learning, Sarasvati and refuse any agency?

But if breathing in a certain way (or stopping the breath) is learnable, then is Gayathri's 'sound' or 'genius' learnable too...without us becoming her? Or is there more to it all?   

I find myself falling in love with the high-pitched clear-twanged Veena or the base-sounding deep-voiced one...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A man called P

Indian Women and the Pressure to look young

Talk at Women's Studies Dept., BU