Taking the Sarangi to the World

The sarangi may live yet, thanks to the unstinting ambassadorial efforts of Ustad Kamal Sabri.

In the first instance, the Nobel Prize and Raga Shankara sound like strange companions. Until one adds a corollary—Ustad Kamal Sabri. To unravel the tangled logic further, he is the first Indian musician to be handpicked to render a solo sarangi concert at the prestigious prize distribution ceremony at Oslo in 2008. His august audience comprised, among others, Nobel Prize winners and the Norwegian royalty.

The sarangi nawaz is currently touring Spain, where the highlight of his schedule is a concert for the country’s National Day—again, with the Spanish royalty in attendance. Together with internationalist guitarist Tomatito and pianist Armando Orborne, he plays music that’s completely detached from the Hindustani classical raga strains, appealing to audiences through the complexities of scale setting, rhythm and compositional originality.

The sudden global interest in the ancient sarangi from India can be attributed to a one-man mission set off by the Ustad. Often relegated to the role of an accompanying instrument in the land of its origin, it is to the credit of the Ustad’s father, the legendary Ustad Sabri Khan, that the instrument first became familiar to music lovers elsewhere. But while the elder Khan stuck to playing in the classical genre, Kamal Sabri completely changed the fortunes of the instrument by making it a conduit for voicing world music, through live concerts, recorded albums, fusions with instrumentalists the world over, and even by formulating newer roles in the form of digitalised sounds.

This global crossover called for an explanation to unfamiliar audiences. Thus, each Kamal Sabri concert is preceded by a short explanation stating that sarangi sounds are akin to sounds of the human voice, justifying its holding stance, right next to the playing musician’s heart. Its unique play method, with the cuticles of the right hand, and currently its latest attribute of versatility as an instrument at par with world class instruments in terms of volume, range and sound flexibility, all form part of this explanatory package.

Apart from concert appearances, the Ustad has propagated the sarangi’s new-found status through a series of album releases of concerts played with instrumentalists around the world. “One is with a saxophonist Jan Garberek. Another is set off against the kantele, which is the national Finnish instrument, while a third one is with the American pianist Chikcorea,” he says.

Back home, too, his solo albums are meeting with success. One that is doing exceptionally well is Dance of the Desert, featuring folk airs sung along the desert route from Rajasthan to Saudi Arabia. “It is a journey of music with authentic sounds of Indian folk origin rendered in the tremulous manner of Arabian folk music.” Lately, he has been busy with the composition of a punk number, where mechanical instruments are paired with the natural sarangi, in an overall “funky and natural” resonance.

The conjoining stance, seemingly intriguing for a classical Indian maestro, is not a compromise formula. It is a committed adherence to the goal of carrying his instrument from mere indigenous status to one of international importance. And that is possible, he says, “when your instrument is capable of playing different styles”. In fact, it was his last tour of Norway, as ARTSa performer in the World Music Festival, that proved to be his lucky break. The organisers were struck by the originality of the sarangi’s sounds and the quality of play. They decided to opt for its promotion on the world stage.

Back home, the Ustad has begun a silent revolution of sorts. He has established an orchestra of contemporary music, using traditional Indian instruments alongside new age synthetic sounds on the keyboard. “What I keep in mind when composing,” he says, “is not raga but symphony, so that the music is understood by international listeners. There is also an element of topicality in these compositions. I see to it that the occasion for the music is part of its rendition. It may be introduced for the first time to mark the arrival of a season, or to mark a state visit by a dignitary, or may be played for therapeutic requirements. In essence, the music must be an exchange, a pleasurable experience and allow scope for team work.”

So has he veered from the traditional concert platform for the sake of the global cause? “Purists like my father have already made the instrument familiar to many listeners. I still adhere to traditions when I am playing as a classical musician. Because I have such respect for it, I have never dragged raga music into world music compositions. The latter is an avenue for newer ventures; the former for reiterating my roots. From playing dhrupad to film numbers, I have continued the way forward. Global music is a way of shaking hands musically with the world.”

About The Author

Subhra Mazumdar