With the diminishing of maharajas, maharishis and magicians,"
the late painter J. Swaminathan was wont to say, "Indian
musicians constitute an exclusive and exotic class by
themselves."
Yet,
it would be unjust and unfair to suggest that Ravi Shankar's
legend rests on exotica alone. He knew that instead
of merely pandering to an orientalist patronage, he
would have to plumb the depths of his tradition and
find for it modern contexts and global markets.
This
led him to forsake the easy comfort of brother Uday
Shankar's dance troupe in 1936 and relocate to the tiny
principality of Maihar and risk a comparatively late
beginning in Hindustani classical music at the feet
of a recluse and temperamental master like Ustad Allauddin
Khan.
Ravi
Shankar's detractors ascribe his success to his marketing
abilities and crafty packaging alone. "Everything about
Ravi Shankar," says a fan of rival sitarist Vilayat
Khan, "from his elaborately stitched dhotis to his music
is tailored with an eye on the audience and the media."
There
might be a kernal of truth in this. Shankar has always
had a designer look to both his persona and his art.
He says this is to enable him to present classical Indian
music to a modern, international audience. There lies
his essential contribution. Even in India, it is largely
after Ravi Shankar's example that the present day format
of an instrumental concert evolved. Especially in the
opening Alap-Jor sequences his contribution stands unrivalled.
Also
having an innate sense of rhythm he revelled in its
play and it is he who started the practice of giving
the tabla player his due on the concert stage. He raised
north Indian instrumental music to its current level
of structural sophistication, musical expression as
well as public appeal.
Then
as a prolific composer he was the first to interface
with western musicians to make the space for fusions
of all sort which have followed in his wake. This had
provided an easy handle to his critics to beat him with.
Today they are too busy vying to outdo his record. "But
I did not compromise the essential spirit of classicism,"
insists Ravi Shankar, "besides, I never played with
popstars."
True,
he might have taught the Beatles but he did not play
with them. And his legacy will be as much a watershed
in our cultural landscape as that of his Liverpool acolytes
on the global stage.