Bhatkhande: The Contradiction of Music’s Modernity

As a follow up to my piece “A Brief History of Hindustani Music”,  I’m sharing this essay on Pandit Bhatkhande.  

Also see my review of Max Katz’s Lineage of Loss: Counternarratives of North Indian Music (Wesleyan University Press, 2017). 

In her book Two Men and Music: Nationalism and the Making of an Indian Classical Tradition (Oxford University Press 2005), Professor Janaki Bakhle extensively discusses Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande (1860-1936), a musicologist largely responsible for the standardization of Hindustani Classical Music. Bakhle describes Pandit Bhatkhande as “one of Indian music’s most contentious, arrogant, polemical, contradictory, troubled and troubling characters. It may be better to view him not as a charlatan or a savior, but as a tragic figure, one who was his own worst enemy. All through his writings, there is ample evidence of elitism, prejudice, and borderline misogyny” (99). She goes on to note the irony that though Bhatkhande is revered as a great figure in Hindustani music, his vision for the art form is not being followed today. For example, Bhatkhande wanted to create a national tradition for Indian music, not necessarily a Hindu tradition. Yet today, much of Hindustani Classical music is “suffused with sacrality” (99). Bakhle describes how at a recent musical gathering in Bombay, Bhatkhande’s portrait was adorned by a marigold garland with a silver incense stand placed in front of it. She asks the crucial question: “How did it happen that a vision that began with scholastics, debate, and secularism culminated in garlands and incense?” (100).

Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande was born on August 10, 1860, into a Brahmin family in Bombay. Although neither of his parents was a professional musician, he and his siblings were taught music. This was not unusual in a family of his class background. At age 15, Bhatkhande began receiving instruction in sitar and studying Sanskrit texts on music theory, a field of inquiry that would remain his obsession throughout his life. In 1884, he joined the Gayan Uttejak Mandali, the music appreciation society, which exposed him to a rapidly expanding world of music performance and pedagogy. He studied with musicians such as Shri Raojibua Belbagkar and Ustad Ali Husain, learning a huge number of compositions, both khayal and dhrupad (100-101).

In 1887, Bhatkhande received his LLB from Bombay University and began a brief career as a criminal lawyer. After the death of his wife in 1900 and of his daughter in 1903, he abandoned this career to turn his full attention to music. The first thing he did was to embark on a series of musical research tours, the first of which was conducted in 1896. He traveled with a series of questions. His major project was to search out and then write a “connected history” of music and it began with these tours, which he believed would give him some clues to help recover some missing links. He was less interested in the actual performance of music than in the theory that underpinned the education of the musician. He kept several diaries of his tours, which served not only as an account of his travels but also as blueprints for his future writings. Bakhle notes that he “did not interview the people he met so much as he interrogated them, seeking out what he judged to be their ignorance. In all these encounters Bhatkhande met only men. He had little regard for women musicians and did not believe he could learn anything from them” (103). Continue reading Bhatkhande: The Contradiction of Music’s Modernity

Gurdaspur and Siliguri: The Two Necks That Held

A precedent post on Pakistan’s self-exile from the subcontinent, and the geography that outlasted it

This is not anti-Pakistan polemic. Pakistan can flourish in the role she has chosen, and may continue to do so (Pakistan’s pivotal role in the US-Iran war is, on any honest reading, a legitimisation win for the current hybrid government)). The point being made here is structural, not personal.

Pakistanis are a subset of the British Raj’s Muslim population. As Punjabis, as inheritors of the Mughal cultural complex (alas one cannot destroy his Masjid and simultaneously claim to be his heir), as native carriers of the Hindustani register that becomes Urdu under one stylisation and Hindi under another, they began with a favoured position inside the subcontinent. They have traded it for a subordinate position inside the wider Muslim world. The internal hierarchies of the Islamicate, where Pakistanis rank against Arabs, Turks, and Persians, are dense and unflattering and deserve their own treatment another day.

The cause of the trade, in the end, is theological. The subcontinent runs on iconographic generosity, painted shrines, sung saints, plural deities, devotional excess. Strict iconophobia cannot live inside that civilization without breaking it. Pakistan chose the stricter line in 1947 and has progressively tightened it since. The Urdu denial, the recent insistence in some Pakistani quarters that Urdu is not really an Indian language, is the cleanest evidence of the opt-out.

Irreducibly Indo-Persian

Continue reading Gurdaspur and Siliguri: The Two Necks That Held

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