Ustad Bismillah Khan, who played the shehnai at the Red Fort on the eve of India’s independence and brought the instrument to prominence in Hindustani classical music, passed away today. He was 90 or 91 (reports vary). Born in Bihar, he came to Varanasi as a child and remained there the rest of his days, living a simple, impecunious life when others of his musical generation achieved fortune in India and overseas. He was a devout Shia Muslim who also took part in Hindu worship, believing in the unity of pathways to God and in the spiritual role of music. Although he had disciples and his sons all became musicians, he leaves — as far as I know — no single obvious musical successor.

An obituary from the BBC is here. The Indian papers covered Khansaheb’s illness and will presumably have tributes and recollections in the coming days. Here is a 2005 interview with Indian Express editor-in-chief Shekhar Gupta that gives a sense of the character and his outlook.

Here is a link to two articles: the second one, which apparently ran in India Today in 1986, includes this description:

His house in Varanasi, in Sarai Harha, is an ample but decrepit structure. His living room which also serves as guest room, is sparsely furnished with creaky wooden benches and a large takht on which, at given time of the day, his children perform namaaz, oblivious of guests and visitors. Still in incessant demand as a player he travels by train regularly with his troupe, often by second class. He hates to fly. And when travel arrangements are being made, the house buzzes with activity as instruments are laid out, ancient steel trunks and torn British Airways flight-bags are packed with clothes and lunch boxes stuffed with rice and samosas. The shehnai player, whose name is familiar even to the international jet set as that of Ravi Shankar, travels by cycle rickshaw. And as he wheels down the city’s streets at the head of a caravan of rickshaws, smiling at well wishers, he looks as happy as a British Lord in a Rolls Royce.

It also includes this quotation:

“I am getting old now. Not in my heart. But in my body. The heart yearns to go on and on but this body sometimes tires and these wretched knees start aching after four hours of playing. And I now have that all-too-human worry. Thirty years ago, I used to think I had conquered or was about to conquer the world. What foolishness! Now I say, Bismillah, you haven’t reached anywhere. The world may know and listen to your ragas, but Bismillah, life will soon finish and your yearnings will still remain. This music is still an ocean. I want to cross it. But I have barely reached the shore. I haven’t yet even taken a dip in it.”

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I saw a group called Indian Ocean last night at World Cafe Live in Philadelphia — and they rocked. I’ll review the concert in some more detail below, but before going any further I wanted to mention that they are doing a small North American tour right now. Upcoming venues include Stamford, Connecticut, Chicago (this weekend), New York (early next week), Houston, Phoenix, Minneapolis, and Missisauga, Canada. If you live in one of those cities, go buy tickets!

Indian Ocean are based in Delhi, and have been together since the early 1990s. Though they’ve flirted with crossover commercial success, the band has built up a devoted underground following without selling out to the demands of the market. (The audience at last night’s concert seemed to know all of their songs.) They play a unique style of music that fundamentally defies categorization. A phrase on the Indian Ocean Wikipedia site takes a stab at it: “Indo-rock fusion with jazz-spiced rhythms that integrates shlokas, sufism, environmentalism, mythology and revolution.” Another phrase they use is, “organic fusion.” Whatever it is, it works. Continue reading →

That’s just one of the memories and opinions that DJ Rekha, tireless queen of the NYC desi dance scene, shares in an interview out today in the Village Voice. Aside from the Voice’s Tricia Romano asking a question about Bollywood “blowing up” in an interview that she says was conducted on the day of the Bombay bombings, it’s a nice bit of back-and-forth; Romano more than redeems herself by designating Rekha “one of the city’s true treasures.”

One reason I wanted to post this was to give Rekha props for her straightforward and democratic opinions about nightlife:

Basement Bhangra’s stayed in one place; it hasn’t really moved around.

Well, I fortunately have a really good relationship with SOB’s. I’ve been preempted once, by Celia Cruz, which I gladly gave up my night for. But outside of that, clubland sucks. It’s hard to get a space where the venue gets what you’re doing musically. Now it’s like, if you don’t have a bottle crowd . . . I mean, I could have a bottle crowd, but I don’t want to. I don’t want those pricks at my place. I don’t want anyone who’s dumb enough to buy a bottle at my party. Can you quote me on that?

I’ll even blog you on that, sister Rekha! She’s also got a comment on the desi integration into American cultural life that you might find interesting:

The success of it all used to be more surprising, the whole success of Indian-ness as a cultural phenomena, everything from Deepak Chopra to yoga to this music. It’s not a spike. It’s more integrated, in subtle ways. Like before it would be a big deal if you saw anything Indian anywhere. And now, it’s like, ‘Oh, big deal. They’re playing some lounge track in a bar.’ Or ‘Big deal, there’s an Indian character on that reality show,’ America’s Next Top Model or whatever. It’s not as much of a shock. I think that just means that we’re here to stay.

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