Spring 2007 Issue
I think the time for this magazine has come. Hope someday you'll be in print. Wish you much success!
-- Bharti Kirchner, Author.
I read, with some interest, the fine article in your journal by Prof. Balasubrahmanyam. I congratulate the author on his astute observations. If I might add a few thoughts to the discussion:
1. I am not sure that the author understands the other tonal systems he alludes to initially in his article. For example, there are two scales that are in common use in Balinese and Javanese Gamelan: Slendro, which comes roughly from the Shuddhasaveri-Mohanam family (ie. if one takes shruti bhedam as a basis); and Pelog which is roughly Bhupalam. Neither of these look much like Tilanga. One also wonders why he associates Arab music and its intermediate note values with Vakulabharanam. Mysterious!
2. The reference and subsequent comparison between Guido D'Arezzo and Amarakosha raises the question, is D'Arezzo's work considered the oldest reference to solfege notation in the Western tradition? For example, what do the ancient Greeks say about note names? Even if they don't use solfege names, how does their conception of the notes match with the Indian conception? And inasmuch as there is a match, how do we now look at the issue of origination?
3. If I might venture to state, I don't think the issue is one of origins. Is it necessary to ascribe the origination of the 12-tone, 7-note system to East or West? Such an academic inquiry is a red herring in my opinion. We simply do not have the historical record to justifiably answer the origin question, and thus its presence as a matter of discourse is not one worthy of a scholar's attention, other than to say we don't know where the present tonal system originated. The bigger issue is why 12 and 7?
4. The author would do well to consider the issue of harmonics, and its bearing on this present subject. Particularly interesting would be a discussion of human psychology with regard to the issue of consonant-dissonant intervals. I believe it is in this line of inquiry that we might find the true answer to why there are seven notes, twelve tones and sixteen names.
-- Vaishampayana. Seattle. Jun 17 2007.
Many thanks to 'Vaishampayana' for his thoughtful and incisive comments. Here is my response:
1. In suggesting how Sangeetapriya might have framed her/his question had s(h)e been of this or that nationality, I was only being half serious. My judgment of the nature of Indonesian tunes may be subjective but whatever I heard of Indonesian music sounded like Telang. I did not attempt a grahabedha analysis. No surprise if the tunes encompass different rAgas (all pentatonic?) when played on different occasions by different orchestras. I believe change of sizes of cymbal-like instruments may be necessary in Gamelan if any re-tuning is to be done to suit a different scale.
The cultural extension of India into S.E. Asia would have included music which could still retain features that were extant in Medieval India. Vaishampayana gives examples of audava scales. Can there be an implication here that musical forms prevalent in India in those times would appear restricted in range to Indian ears now as Gamelan type music did to me?
Arabic music has a long history, a complex theory and has been influenced by many contacts. (There are numerous websites to consult). But then, what little I have heard seemed mostly to “fall back on” the notes of VakulAbharaNam and there is no “mystery” (ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arabic_scale).
I have heard Sangeetha Vidwan Balamurali Krishna making a similar comment when comparing “our” music with the music of other nations.
2. There have been claims of discoveries of pieces of written notation of Greek music but what the music sounded like is still debated. Later music scholarship may have revisited available texts to discover Greek roots, of terms like “diatonic”, “tetrachord”, “chromatic”, etc. being vested with certain technical meanings in terms of “harmonic understanding” that came to grip the West. (ref: Jeff Whittier’s essay where compares various Greek modes with certain rAgas, and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetrachord).
Harp-like musical instruments must have had tunable features that may have benefited from “Pythagorian tuning” (ref: http://www.btinternet.com/~steve.sedgwick/Pythagorus.htm and a number of related sites). If the Greeks had a “sol-fa-able” note-name system, it is doubtful it would have survived later, turbulent, times. (ref: http://www.infoplease.com/ce6/ent/A0858488.html).
D’Arezzo’s “invention” of solfa names may well have been original. I do not see the basis for speculating about a “match” between the Greek system and system of Ancient Indian-origin syllables in spite of what Mr. Whittier has said. There is, of course, the “formula” of Pythagoras on the relationship of the different notes between the octaves. But that has nothing to do with the question of seven notes and twelve tones, the theme of my article. The Pythagorian tuning may have “naturally” formed the major component of the chromatic scale and it may look as though it was also the basis of our shankarAbharaNam/bilAwal. However, it is quite unlikely, linguistically speaking, that Greek syllables/names would have been adapted/adopted by the Indian Ancients.
3. Here Sri Vaishampayana and I must agree to disagree, I am afraid. Sangeetapriya has placed a challenge that demands inquiry/explanation. Using a very inappropriate analogy, the seven names are like dinosaur bones whose mere presence needs an answer to the question “Why?” or “How come?”
4. I am not certain I quite understand Vaishampayana’s use of the expressions “harmonics” and “sixteen names” in the context of my article. I do try to deal with the difficult question of the contrast between “melodic” and “harmonic” understanding of music (ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harmony).
To quote what I wrote in another context: “…. Regarding the modal line in melodic music, as differentiated from harmonic music, the late Sri B. V. K. Shastri, a well-known musicologist, has wondered: "I do not understand how Westerners fail to see the logic of our rAga system". Balancing that is the remark of Yehudi Menuhin, one of the greatest of the virtuoso violinists of the last century: "I wonder how you people avoid drowning melody in a sea of harmony!"
The difference between the two approaches is like the difference between the sharp-edged technique of Ajantan paintings or Rajasthani miniatures and the large “composed” paintings of Western art. Westerners are aware of what they call a 'melodic line', showing they have the potential to appreciate the logic underpinning the rAga system but the gap is, perhaps, unbridgeable. We do not let melody drown in a sea of harmony because we can express speech/emotion through a rAga. The human voice is not merely an instrument to be harmonized with other instruments, as in Western music; we even make our instruments 'play' vocal music.
The suggestion regarding possible connections among human psychology, the issue of consonant-dissonant intervals and seven notes is interesting but outside the scope of this conversation. As for “sixteen names”, is Vaishampayana referring to the classification based on the grAma system that generates sixteen thaats, much older than the Venkatamakhin/Govindacharya system, which the North Indian tradition follows?
S. N. Balasubrahmanyam. Bangalore. Jun 24 2007.
Dear Editor,
I just read the review presented by Aranyani of the show 'Krishna Leela' . It is unfortunate that the author did not initially comprehend that this was the first production of a fledgling dance school. However, she does the school a disservice by writing with the continued expectation that the show should compare with dance dramas presented by established institutions in India. The prevailing reaction in the audience that night was awe in seeing just how much the director had accomplished with these novice dancers. True, the students have not mastered the art of abhinaya, but the fact that most students were making a sincere attempt deserves note and praise. It is also true that many are still learning their adavus, but it was clear that the students have been given strong foundations; most had firm aramandalum and crisp mudras. And the choreography, accounting for the individual abilities of the students, ultimately did provide the audience with something that was aesthetically and intellectually appealing. The energy and passion of the Kaliyamardanam still stays with me after all these days. From the makeup to the costumes to the entrances and exits and positioning on stage, the attention to minute detail was notable. Further, the enthusiasm that was evident on the faces of the participants speaks volumes to the multiple ways that Subashini Santhanam is nurturing her students, and the rich, traditional base that she is giving to them. There are some excellent points of constructive criticism in the review – such as ways in which the production could have an improved sense of continuity and could allow the audience to better anticipate what would be presented. And let me also add my kudos to the families for their complete, dedicated involvement in the school production. I thoroughly concur that this production, for all its wrinkles, leaves us in anticipation of the school's future performances.
Ajita Krishnan. Issaquah. Jul 10 2007.
PS: I am not affiliated with the school. I have a background in Mohiniyattam and Bharatanatyam. I was present at the performance in support of a local dance school.