Rāgas and Documentation: The Eternal Battle between Artist and Theoretician

As I was writing about the intricate world of rāgas within the book that I am writing about the Kishorachandrānanda Champu, I unexpectedly found myself engrossed in a contemplation on the broader canvas of art and artistry. What began as a mere exploration of musical elements evolved into a more comprehensive discourse on art itself. The insights and musings that emerged from this journey (of 3-4 hours hahaha) felt too compelling to confine to the margins of my original work. Therefore, I present this extended version.

Getting too deeply into statistics (here, theory) is like trying to quench a thirst with salty water.

Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

Part 1: The Nature of Rāgas and the Underlying Problems

In the book, Kishorachandrānanda Champu, composed by Kabisūrjya Baḻadeba Ratha, he has meticulously associated specific rāgas with specific champus. This association must have been done to assign rāgas that harmonise with the underlying emotions and themes of each champu.

However, when we delve into the modern interpretation and rendition of this classical composition, a few complexities arise.

Firstly, it's crucial to grasp a fundamental concept: a single rāga can encapsulate a myriad of emotions. The choice of emotion to be conveyed lies in the hands of the performer, and this holds true not only for musicians but for composers and poets as well. Herein lies a foundational challenge when selecting a specific rāga for a literary composition.

Consider, for instance, the Rāga Desh. It has the potential to evoke feelings of separation from loved ones, yet it can also serve as a powerful vessel for expressing patriotism. Now, let's introduce the complexity of a poet who is prescribing the rāga for his composition. Imagine this poet has penned a deeply patriotic piece and envisions it resonating in the Raga Desh. However, as an artist, I may associate the same rāga with sentiments of separation, creating a potential disconnect between the intended emotion and the interpretation. This intricate interplay of raga and emotion is not unique to our discussion but extends its threads into the very fabric of the Kishorachandrananda Champu.

Secondly, some of the rāgas mentioned by Kabisūrjya may appear to be unfamiliar or less commonly practiced in today's musical landscape of Odisha. India's rich and diverse musical heritage has led to the emergence of numerous rāgas, some of which may have evolved significantly over time and some have faded into obscurity. Take, for instance, the once-famous Rāga Deepak. Today, encountering a rendition of Rāga Deepak is akin to discovering a rare gem. Its presence is a subject of debate among various gharanas, each claiming authenticity for their interpretation. This divergence highlights the evolution and fragmentation of musical traditions, leaving us with multiple 'Deepaks,' each unique and distinct, yet all drawing from the same luminous origin.

Finally, the nature of rāgas is such that they are not static entities but living traditions. They have the capacity to evolve, adapt, and blend with different musical influences and regional styles. Thus, even when a specified rāga is still in use, it might have undergone changes in form or interpretation. This fluidity and adaptability of rāgas reflect the organic nature of Indian classical music.

To understand the transformation of rāgas, it's crucial to appreciate the traditional mode of knowledge transmission prevalent in Indian music, known as the guru-ṡishya paramparā. In this system, knowledge is imparted orally from a guru (teacher) to a ṡishya (disciple). This oral tradition allows for a dynamic exchange of musical wisdom, encompassing not only the melodic structure of rāgas but also the emotive nuances, improvisational techniques, and artistic interpretations associated with each rāga.

An AI-generated image of the Guru-Shishya Parampara, downloaded from the internet

Part 2: Documentation and the Unspoken Blessings

First and foremost, the act of recording serves as a timeless safeguard against the erasure of valuable information into the obscurity of history. Within the domain of classical music, particularly with regard to the intricate rāgas, documentation stands as a potent means of preserving these melodic treasures, ensuring their continued existence even if they gradually slip from contemporary practice.

Secondly, documentation contributes to the preservation of authenticity. Consider, for instance, a common rāga which most of you might have heard, Rāga Bageshree. Through the lens of history, one can discern that not so long ago, this rāga did not incorporate the pivotal note pancham as it does today. A recent development by Ustād Amir Khan sahab in the same is the phrase "re ga ma" in Bageshree which was unheard of before. These transformations are not inherently negative; they merely underscore the evolving nature of musical traditions. However, it also underscores that the pristine, unadulterated form of Bageshree that once existed has evolved and adapted to contemporary sensibilities.

Thirdly, documentation extends an inviting hand to individuals unversed in the intricacies of rāgas. It provides a foundational reference point from which one can begin to fathom the essence of a particular rāga. Even if a novice lacks the technical expertise to perform a rāga fluently, they can, at the very least, cultivate an acute auditory recognition of it. This not only fosters a deeper appreciation for classical music but also enriches their capacity to comprehend and savor its nuanced expressions.

Part 3: Is Documentation also a Coin?

Just like every other thing in life, the act of documentation, like a coin with two faces, carries both advantages and considerations. Now, let us embark on an exploration of the drawbacks entailed by the process of documentation, for like any facet of life, it too carries its own set of limitations.

In the contemporary landscape, we bear witness to an emerging trend of unwavering convictions and steadfast opinions, often held by individuals who exhibit a strong resistance to adaptability. Music, especially raga music, stands in stark contrast to such rigidity; it is a dynamic, ever-evolving art form, continually shaped by the currents of innovation and creativity. Had musicians of yore adhered dogmatically to age-old traditions, we might find ourselves constrained to the mere three notes sanctioned for Sāmagāna in the Rigveda. This divergence between the established and the uncharted reveals a critical aspect of the debate over documentation.

In the absence of meticulous documentation, artists can afford to take a certain degree of artistic freedom. They are unburdened by the constraints of stringent adherence to historical norms, enabling them to navigate the fluid landscape of musical expression. This fluidity encourages an intuitive responsiveness to the mood and essence of a composition. Musicians are liberated to harmonise with the emotional resonance of a literary piece rather than adhering rigidly to a fixed blueprint. This symbiosis between the artist's creativity and the spirit of the music cultivates an organic, ever-evolving artistry.

Even audio-visual recordings bring another problem: should be adhere strictly to what has been recorded in it?

Part 3.1: Non-Lexical Notes of Indian Classical Music

The choice of the term “Indian” Classical music is deliberate, as it encompasses not only one particular style but a broader spectrum that includes Odissi, Hindustani, and Carnatic music. Unlike Western music, which is primarily based on lexical notes and rigid sheet music, Indian music takes a distinct path. Its soul is found in the intricate interplay of non-lexical notes, a language beyond the written word.

In Indian classical music, a note is not merely a pitch; it's an expression, an emotion, and a journey. To transcribe Indian music into conventional sheet music is to confine a free-spirited bird within a cage. It loses its essence, its fluidity, and its soul. Indian music is an art of improvisation, of intricate ornamentation, and spontaneous expression, and it thrives on the artist's ability to delve into the essence of each note. This intricate conversation between the artist and the notes simply cannot be captured in its entirety on a piece of paper.

Indian Classical Music is a world where the magic lies in the spaces between the notes, rather than the notes themselves. It's about the journey from one note to another, the microtonal shifts, the intricate ornamentations, i.e., the gamaks, murkis meends, etc., and the emotional depths explored in these transitions. Imagine, for a moment, that music is a path, and each note is a destination. In Western music, you might take a direct route from one note to the next, but in Indian classical music, you meander through a labyrinth of expressions and emotions. You dwell in the transitions, explore the microtonal shifts, and sometimes, you let the silence speak as loudly as the sound. In a philosophical sense, Indian classical music teaches us that the journey is often more beautiful than the destination. It's a reminder that life is not about reaching a particular point, but about savouring every step along the way.

Due to all of these reasons, the beauty of Indian music lies in its oral tradition, where knowledge is passed down through guru-shishya parampara (teacher-disciple lineage) and absorbed through years of dedicated practice. It's a living, breathing entity that flows from heart to heart, transcending words and written symbols. Attempting to notate Indian music is akin to bottling a monsoon downpour in a jar. It may capture a fraction of the experience, but it can never encompass the fullness of the music. Indian music is a language of the soul, an intricate dance of emotions and sounds, where notation, in all its limitations, simply cannot do justice to its boundless beauty.

Part 4: All's well that ends well, i.e., conclusion:

In essence, the dichotomy between documentation and artistic freedom brings forth a fundamental tension in the world of music. While documentation acts as a guardian of tradition and a historical anchor, it can inadvertently stifle the boundless potential of musical innovation. Conversely, a lack of exhaustive documentation opens the door to artistic exploration, allowing music to remain a living, breathing entity that responds to the flow of human emotions and creativity.

My suggestion: There should be some people who stick to the traditions. There should be some who should be allowed to move out of traditions.

Acceptance is key here. The ones who stick to the traditions should demean the ones who are moving ahead with their own, and vice versa. Music is meant to live, grow and thrive. Just like us humans, there are certain traditions that we like to follow and certain technologies that we adapt to with time. Music should be the same.

As I like to say: There is no good or bad music: there is only music that you understand and the music that eludes your understanding.