At first, it rings as mere instrumental music. Then gradually it shifts into recitation. It is a journey through conversation, chanting and singing. These melodious notes need to be experienced first before you feel it. The lyrics do not suffuse this particular musical region. That eliminates all the barriers between the performer and the listener giving truth to the famous saying: music has no saying. The instrumental music transcends all barriers visible and invisible.
That is the experience the packed crowd at the BMICH was privileged to witness just a few days ago. ‘Strings of Peace’, a special cultural event featuring legendary Sarod maestro Ustad Amjad Ali Khan along with his sons Aman Ali Bangash and Ayaan Ali Bangash was held to commemorate the 70th Republic Day of India and the 150th Birth Anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi.
The simple stage was tailored in utmost charm to accommodate five musical virtuosos: two Tablists in the two corners of the stage while the centre seating allocated for the string-trio. Best things come to those who wait. The audience had to wait some while for the arrival of the firstborn master Ustad Amjad Ali Khan. His two sons, Aman Ali Bangash and Ayaan Ali Bangash, opened the tuneful evening.
The two Tablists in the two corners did not exist without a reason. To be frank, the Sarod cannot be enjoyed by itself for so long – at least not for the average listener. The Tabla adds a colourful harmony to the melody emanating from the Sarod. Though deemed unsung heroes, the Tablists deserve kudos for their dexterousness on the tough percussion instrument.
The Ali siblings, on the other hand, exhibited their mastery generated over the years. Beginning from a soft and richly classical melody, they gradually swerved into the fast-paced rock-type tone yet without diminishing the beauty of the tradition.
With due respect to their mastery, however, all that glory seemed to fade a bit as their father entered the threshold. He was far more relaxed than his sons, yet entered a wider range of musical melodies and ragas. True to his own expertise and seniority over and above the rest on the stage, Ustad Amjad Ali Khan stole the show. He even took the whole audience by surprise when he played the Sri Lankan national anthem on his Sarod.
The elderly maestro, noted for a face beaming with an all-time smile, demonstrated how even the most illiterate audience could enjoy his creations without any understanding of music or its intricate technicalities. With different rhythms, he took us to different heights of physical and mental stratospheres.
Ustad Amjad Ali Khan has taken residency at prestigious academic institutions such as Standford University and Indiana University’s Jacobs School of Music in Bloomington.
The pinnacle of his teaching career shall apparently be the grooming of his offspring. Elsewhere the maestro notes his sentiments on raising students cum children: “My years of teaching my sons were quite an experience. It was the first time that I was able to hold a student in my lap! In a family where music is a way of life, the training starts from the moment a child is born. I remember when Amaan was born and the first time I held him, I sang into his ear. Similarly, on Ayaan’s arrival two years later, I did the same. However, as time progressed, all the training and musical knowledge that I have tried to pass on to them happened in the music room.”
Adds he: “In the course of Amaan and Ayaan’s training (which is an ongoing process for a classical musician), I never encouraged them to copy my style of playing beyond a point. As they developed and matured as musicians, I was relieved to see both brothers developing a very distinctive and rather different approach to what was taught. This I feel is only natural, as the music is a reflection of an individuals’ mind and soul. Over the years, as a father and as a guru, I have a very unique equation with Amaan and likewise with Ayaan.”
The Sarod is a stringed instrument, used mainly in Hindustani music on the Indian subcontinent. Similar to the Sitar, the Sarod is also one of the most popular and prominent instruments.
Ustad Amjad Ali Khan is a javelin of his own right when it comes to the Sarod. Google this word that sounds almost extraterrestrial and the search engine will produce a long list with Ali Khan’s name on top. The word sounds extraterrestrial but not to a large extent. The local audience is already familiar with the word, Sitar, and has seen similar-looking instruments in the legends of our own soil such as Amaradeva.
Born in 1945 as ‘Masoom’ Ali Khan, the Maestro was the sixth and youngest child. His father, Hafiz Ali Khan, was a royal court musician in the palace of the Maharaja of Gwalior in Madhya Pradesh. He is the sixth generation of Sarod players of the Bangash gharana. That said, it comes as no surprise as talents naturally run in the family.
Khan takes pains to elaborate the genesis of Sarod: “Sarod is a Persian word. The actual pronunciation is ‘Sarood’ which means music or melody. Our sarod is made of teak wood, it is hollowed from the inside, the belly is covered with the skin and the fingerboard is made of steel. The bridge on the skin carries nineteen strings. Eleven sympathetic strings are underneath the bridge and ten strings are over the bridge. Our forefathers came from Afghanistan and settled in Madhya Pradesh, Reva and Gwalior. They used to play the Afghani instrument rabab, which looks like the sarod. My forefathers, especially Ghulam Bandegi Khan Bangash and his son Ghulam Ali Khan, modified and invented the sarod from the rabab.”
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