“Jugalbandi” : the most beautiful word you’ve never heard of. The term is used most commonly to describe the tradition in Carnatic and Hindustani styles of Classical music in which two musicians perform together. But, on Friday night, the talented students of Michigan Sahana took “jugalbandi” to the next level. They extended the metaphor to include dichotomies of music and dance, show and tell, performance and education, and Indian and American, to create a unique cultural experience.
In order to replicate the authentic experience of a true Classical Indian concert which last up to 4 hours, the performance followed a carefully chosen eight-piece repertoire that interweaved both music and dance pieces by Sahana members, and demonstrate a specific role of a true Classical Indian concert. First, a Varnam, a traditional raga, was performed in its ceremonial performance-initial position. Ragas are like the structured jazz of the Americas, in that they are the melodic framework for improvisation and composition. Sitting comfortably cross-legged on cubes, the four performers began the “alaap.”
This ‘alaap’ allows the musicians to warm-up their fingers, play with the notes and rhythms within the determined pitch, and introduces the central themes of the raga. I very much enjoyed this part, especially since I knew that it was so authentic to a real classical concert, but without structure or a full ensemble playing at the given time, I felt that the warm-up went on a bit too long, as it sometimes was longer than the raga itself!
The performers throughout the show took turns teaching the audience about their style of music, which was fantastic! They shared musical terms in the original Sanskrit, counted out tricky rhythms. It was almost like we had been invited to a guest lecture, taught to us by the students themselves! It was exciting to see them talk about something that they are so passsionate about. Also, I never realized how different Eastern music theory is from the Western theory that I’ve learned in my own violin lessons.
After an impressive second act of spinning and syncopated footwork by a dancing duo, the next act was a classical interpretive dance. Dressed in traditional saris, the three young women transformed into storytellers, regaling the audience with a spiritual story involving Ganesha and Nataraja, the Lord of Dancers. Thankfully, they told us the story before the dance. Each character had a specific action or pose associated with it (just like in one of those interactive stories you might have participated in as a child, where the king is identified by his crown and you clap your hands like a gallup when the horse is mentioned). There was so much to look at – so many details that the dancers had to control. Every eyebrow raise, eye dart, neck bob, finger undulation had a meaning, and added to the character development in the dance. They moved with a floating grace about the stage. I could imagine a story unfolding in front of me.
After an hour and a half (and a ten minute intermission), the second half kicked off with another alaap to another raga. The groups maintained variety to keep the audience interested. This time, two singers were accompanied by a tabla drum and a harmonium, a portable hand-pumped organ which sounds similar to an accordion. Give a listen here to The Best Harmonium Player on YouTube!
Followed by another storytelling dance, this time about the legend of Rama and Krishna. Almost balletic in feel, each dancer poured the emotion and devotion of the story out of every hand movement and neck oscillation.
The finale was by far worth waiting for in order to see so much color, so much energy and cultural pride on that stage. Both parts of Sahana, the music and dance portions, came together to accompany each other and create a complete picture of Classical India.
This unique educating type of performance got me thinking about what a musician needs from its audience. A performer really desires an audience full of people who either really understand the depth of the music and share the love and passion of the art form, and those who may have limited exposure, but come with support and a blooming curiosity. Michigan Sahana took a very bold move and used their concert as a tool to train their audience on how to enjoy the performance, and even went so far as to further the enjoyment factor by revealing the patterns and stories behind the music and dance pieces. How many times have you been to a Shakespeare play or a band concert, and wished that you had read the summary or knew the thematic layers that structured the Sousa Symphony?
By the end, I came away with a new understanding of Sanskrit, a better idea of various Indian instruments (other than the stereotypical tabla drum and flute), and a deep appreciation for the small details that the musicians and dancers pay attention to in order to convey their cultural stories. Also, I now realized that a true Classical Indian concert was a long event – up to 3 or 4 hours. I cheer Sahana’s authenticity, but I do believe that perhaps the concert could have been a bit shorter for this present day audience who is unaccustomed to long amounts of sitting. In the future, maybe they could include an optional “educational talk” before or after the show to discuss rhythms and Classical Indian terminology to those who are truly interested. Sometimes, after a long day, patrons just want to have a good listen, be entertained, and then, go on their merry way.
