Amidst lively debates within and beyond India, 1 these perspectives on our shared legacy make interesting reading:
Savithri Rajan who believed that Tyagaraja, like these other great men, was always meditating, but his medium of expression was nādam, “sound”. 2
In the introduction to his unfinished yet voluminous magnum opus Karunamirtha Sagaram, titled “The dignity and Origin of music”, Abraham Pandither 3 entices readers to embark on a virtual journey through time and space; a discovery of nature that for him would have gone hand in hand with musical evolution if not advanced civilization itself.
A summary of findings by archaeologists titled “How prehistoric societies were transformed by the sound of music“. 4
Learn more
Read excerpts from Abraham Pandither’s work (Karunamirtha Sagaram, 1918 ed., pp. 4-5)
The devotees who worshiped the deity in such a manner, found Him, according to the several conceptions, either as a King, or as a parent, or as a Guru, or as a timely helper, or as one who relieved them from all difficulties, or as a loving son, or is the loving bride-groom, and gave vent to the feelings in singing His praises; some worshipped by prostrating themselves before Him; some prayed to Him to deliver them from all their troubles; some prayed for the gift of obtaining whatever they desired; some bewailed their fate owing to separation from the deity; some, who realized His presence in themselves, danced for joy; many who desired His presence sent messengers for enquiry; others, filled with love, praised Him fervently. They described His several virtues and told the others about them by means of verse. They deplored their own unworthiness; conscious of their own faults, they implored pardon; some, owing to intense love, were so taken up with the contemplation of His image that they completely forgot this world and their food. […]
p. 5
In the same manner, little children, playing in the streets, rolled the leaves of the Poovarasu tree [“Indian tulip” or “umbrella tree”], made the kind of reed out of the thinner end and produced music by blowing through it finding that the sound was in proportion to the size and the mouthpiece, they played together three or four such reeds and felt elated when they found a certain kind of harmony existing between them. Then they may reeds out of the stems of the leaves of the pumpkin and attached rolled up leaves to them and were delighted to find that the sound was either dull of bright in proportion to the length of the rolled up leaves. Of these, those those who had a special ear for Music when they advanced in age, made reeds of horns, conches and bamboo, and later on of wood, gold, silver and brass of various shapes. In the same way, they made progress in stringed instruments. They found that Music could be produced by tying the bent ends of a stick together, either by a rope or a string. They proceeded to bend big bamboos in the form of a bow by means of leather thongs, tied bells to them to keep time, and sang those particular songs used on the occasions of using bows. Finding by that strings, either metallic or of catgut, sound better when passing through the medium of a vessel full of air or a box or a dried Sorakkai [bottle gourd] with its contents scooped out, made instruments like the […], adjusted the strings to suit their voices and send the praises of the deity. […] From these beginnings, music with its new with its few fundamental rules, is making progress.
increasingly so pertaining to religious (or caste) affiliation, ownership or cultural appropriation[↩]
“Savithri Rajan believes that Tyagaraja, like these other great men, was always meditating, but his medium of expression was nādam, ‘sound’ – he was an aspirant who followed nādopāsana, the approach or worship by way of sound. She points out that Tyagaraja composed a song beginning with the word nādopāsana saying there is nothing higher than worship via sound, music is the best vehicle because Brahman is nādam – divine sound – which is the omnipresent, omniscient power, ‘call it Power with a capital ‘P’, call it God, call it Christ, call it Krsna, call it Rāma.'” – Excerpt from: Tyagaraja and the Renewal of Tradition: Translations and Reflections by William Jackson (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidas, 1994), pp. 174-175 https://search.worldcat.org/en/title/878687716 A longer excerpt titled “The greatest, most beautiful thing is compassion expressed through music” is found here: https://www.carnaticstudent.org/audio-dedication-to-her-guru-veena-dhanammal-by-savithri-rajan[↩]
“Thinking and learning in South Indian Music” by Ludwig Pesch, chapter 4 in: Markus Cslovjecsek, Madeleine Zulauf (eds.) Integrated Music Education – Challenges of Teaching and Teacher Training Peter Lang Publishers, Bern, 2018. 418 pp., 29 fig. b/w, 2 tables MOUSIKÆ PAIDEIA Music and Education/Musik und Bildung/Musique et Pédagogie. Vol. 1 pb. ISBN 978-3-0343-0388-0
Contents & contributors
Starting point. The school’s disciplinary learning scaffold : a challenge for integrated education / Rudolf Künzli ; The intertwining of music, education, and integration / Madeleine Zulauf & Markus Cslovjecsek Step 1. Approaching integrated music education by exploring distant horizons. Integrating arts performance and education in communities of practice : a Brazilian experience / Joan Russell ; Thinking and learning in South Indian music / Ludwig Pesch ; Making connections : avant-garde visual artists and Varèse / Colleen Richardson Step 2. Encountering integrated music education: where school meets life. Cooperative learning in music : music education and the psychology of integration / Frits Evelein ; Music/arts/language interdisciplinary intervention : cultural, linguistic, and artistic development in Francophone minority communities / Anne Lowe & Monique Richard ; Promoting spirituality through music in the classroom / Diana Harris Step 3. Uncovering school models in integrated music education. Interdisciplinarity based on a deep understanding of disciplinarity : benefits for students’ self-development / Dagmar Widorski ; Considering frameworks for integrating music and the arts / Kari Veblen; Cross-curricular approaches in music teaching / Jonathan Barnes Step 4. Becoming familiar with integrated music education activities in the classroom. Activities which use and unveil cultural artifacts / Smaragda Chrysostomou, Colleen Richardson & Joan Russell ; Activities which explore links between music and one other subject / Markus Cslovjecsek, Ludwig Pesch & Joan Russell ; Activities which develop from the learners’ presence / Anke Böttcher, Frits Evelein & Diana Harris Step 5. Being invited into the minds of people engaged in integrated music education. Conceptions of integrated music education : models in dialogue / Madeleine Zulauf & Peter Gentinetta ; When teachers meet specialists : retrospect on the symposium ‘Practice and research in integrated music education’ as a form of professional development / Hermann Gelzer & Helmut Messner
This book was presented during the 33rd ISME World Conference for Music Education (isme2018.org) on Wednesday 18 July 2018.
About this book
Schools are generally oriented towards discipline-based programmes and therefore students often accumulate fragmented knowledge, disconnected from real life concerns. The eighteen contributors to this work suggest that music offers a highway to developing a more appropriate integrated education. They present a range of views on Integrated Music Education rooted in various cultural traditions, based on several interdisciplinary models and integrated arts curricula, inspired by psychological concepts and referenced to recent teaching experiments as well as original research.
In this innovative book, the reader is invited to go beyond the dichotomy between ‘education in music’ and ‘education through music’, exploring the opportunities put forward by Integrated Music Education thanks to a constant movement from the theoretical roots through a precise description of teaching activities to the benefits for students in terms of integration of knowledge, personal development, and social and cultural belonging. Lastly, there are some new and interesting ideas for training teachers.
“Our moment calls for a bolder reimagination, based not on the constrained, degraded conditions around us but on a more expansive view of history and reality, considering as possible baselines both realities of the past and audacious visions of the future.” – Alexandra Kleeman in “Bolder Reimagining”: 55 Voices for Democracy (video 6:33)
A compilation covering the contributions by all speakers (duration 2:11:42) is found here: https://youtu.be/gIDgpX47u1s >>
Transcript
Already at first glance its sheer scope is impressive: 1341 hand gestures rendered in minute detail. As “non-specialist” I feel free to explore it from various angles, some interrelated in surprising ways. Much looks familiar for someone like me having seen several of the productions it discusses. To a degree this also applies to the teaching methods even if in need of being adjusted to the talents of individual learners.
These factors sensitize us to universal principles that connect the arts beyond language, creed, or social status. As for the challenges involved, let me refer to a publication that addressed my own doubts as a beginning student of Carnatic music in Chennai: in Beyond Culture, anthropologist E.T. Hall describes how and why he “developed a cultural model that emphasised the importance of nonverbal signals and modes of awareness over explicit messages. These insights proved invaluable in studying how members of different cultures interact and how they often fail to understand one other.” 1
What struck me then was an observation that seems self-evident only in hindsight:
“In a sense … man’s relationship to all the art forms is much more intimate than is commonly supposed; man is art and vice versa. There is no way the two can be separated. The whole notion that the two are separate is […] probably an aberration of Western culture.” 2
Hand gestures would naturally have been the first choice for overcoming this separation from time immemorial.
Venu G has been a pioneer in this regard, as witnessed by many (including myself) during intercultural symposia and a research project on Kerala’s cultural practices, widening our respective horizons in unforeseen ways. This would have been impossible had he sacrificed his freedom as independent researcher and practitioner, ever since he and Mohiniyattam expert Nirmala Paniker founded Natanakairali at Irinjalakuda, then still a semi-rural environment.
While reading this new book it dawned on me that their collaborative efforts may be compared with an ancient custom locally known as kāvu (“sacred grove”) 3. Formerly widespread, it provides multiple blessings including that of a biotope.
All over the world similar places are now endangered due to urban sprawl even as scientists have demonstrated how indispensable they are from the point of view of biodiversity – safeguarding water supplies and providing clean air in harmony with local conditions. In other words, such places ensure food security and the possibility to develop new, often lifesaving medicines. 4
As for the cultural equivalent of a kāvu which I now associate with Natanakairali, we see references to the natural world as part of new productions, research and documentation projects; and also in the daily practice as mentors for those who (like myself) have marvelled at the infinite possibilities of exploring our relationship with forces beyond our control, namely by artistic means. No doubt this is food for thought, an unmeasurable but real contribution to social development in times of ever increasing uniformity.
Without development and cultural participation entire communities become alienated from one another, leaving rural communities behind while prompting their youth to leave in search of new opportunities.
Fortunately these trends are being noticed by scientific minds and educationists calling for new priorities; so also the United Nations as part of its “Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity” programme. Such heritage needs to be fostered within and beyond the communities to whom credit is due, an approach long advocated by Venu G. As evident from his new book, a “born researcher” gladly acknowledges exponents for their part in a precious heritage in need of being passed forward.
If this is a cause for celebration, it is because here we become aware of two realms that flourish in close proximity; and this not just as “resources” as they cannot be gauged in terms of monetary value or prestige alone.
We owe this new awareness to a wealth of details and their systematic presentation: several specialized branches of the arts are mutually connected, marvelling at their diversity from multiple perspectives like ecology, psychology, history or other disciplines; and as a result, we realize that an art – any art – needs to be rediscovered, protected and redeveloped by each new generation.
Nobody to my knowledge has expressed this more succinctly than Rabindranath Tagore:
“A most important truth, which we are apt to forget, is that a teacher can never truly teach unless he is still learning himself. A lamp can never light another lamp unless it continues to burn its own flame.” 5
Yet going by a letter to his Dutch translator – the writer and psychiatrist Frederik van Eeden – Tagore was weary of vanity:
“The superconscious self of mine which has its expression in beauty is beyond my control. […] The body of the lamp is dark, it has no expression, only its flame has the language.” 6
As evident from Venu G’s writings, lectures and personal communications, an artistic education is not merely a question of authority, success or entitlement but one of sensitivity to social development and dignity that must not be taken for granted.
His new work also demonstrates the scope for reaffirming such values and – equally important – provides a context that emboldens readers to seize every opportunity to convey a sense of purpose through their chosen art.
To illustrate my personal interpretation on these lines, let me point out a few mudras rendered in notation as found in this book.
The Glossary is equally helpful as it includes brief synopses and information about the characters figuring in some of the plays covered; this in addition to glimpses of the situations or dilemmas they face within a given scene – details local audiences would have been familiar with not so long ago.
There is nothing vague or mysterious about the language of gesture when applied to the function of specific subsets of mudras; now shown in a handsome work of reference wherein each gesture conveys moods, actions and even memories; some relating to daily life (though in kutiyattam as if mirrored rather than projected).
This differentiation resonates with a rhetorical question posed by Marcel Marceau, known as the world’s “Grand master of mime”:
“Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us without words?” 7
In this sense, Kerala’s “shared vocabulary” is more than suited to engage in the intercultural dialogue to which Venu G has contributed consistently for half a century:
doing justice to “the most moving moments of our lives” requires universal (mundane) just as stylized (culture-specific) vocabularies effortlessly travelling between the present, the past and possible futures that depend on choices made as part of a given story.
While contributing to Festivals of India held all over the world Venu G discovered:
“Like spoken language, Kathakali gestures offer a complete vocabulary for communication. It is very often possible to express our thoughts and emotions more forcefully with mudras than through words.” 8
With Abhinjana Sakuntala, his critically acclaimed Kutiyattam adaptation, Venu G could test this premise in India and other countries. The tension between urban civilization and communities devoted to alternative lifestyles may be viewed as a theme that connects our time with the ancient world inhabited by Kalidasa. And, as convincingly put forward by Professor Romila Thapar, the inherent tensions from which the famous poet derived inspiration, have resulted in a tapestry of cultural relations that has inspired artists from antiquity:
“In writing this play Kalidasa selected a theme from the epic, but the sub-themes may well have come from folk literature. […] Elaborating on the origin myth of the Bharatas constituted a deliberate turning to the past, possibly with the unstated thought of drawing some parallels with the present“.9
Viewing Venu G’s creative and scholarly work from this angle, and taking note of the rich store of experiences on which it is built, makes me confident that it will continue to facilitate opportunities for a dialogue on eye-level wherever needed; within and beyond India as envisaged by Tagore who anticipated the modern idea of “resilience”.
Educationist Maria Montessori, who spent more than seven years in India during and after World War 2, pondered and acknowledged the insights she gained from young children and their parents. These may well be the quintessence of all transformative experiences as part of lifelong learning. So I trust that her belief in the future of humankind was not misplaced:
“Only the collaboration between the children and the adults will be able to solve the problems of our time.” 10
*
Much of the media contents included in the present video clip were created for educational purposes, partly in the course of an interdisciplinary research project titled “Sam, Reflection, Gathering Together!” hosted by Natanakairali in collaboration with the Bern University of the Arts. Music, dance and drama lecture-demonstrations and performances were presented by many artists and students of Natanakairali and Natanakaisiki as well as visiting artists during the “Sam” workshop held in Kerala in 2006. The name of this research project points to a common denominator in the otherwise differentiated teaching, interpretation and performance practices of South India’s music, dance and drama traditions. As for the events during which many of the photographs and audio recording were created, see “Sam, Reflection, Gathering Together!” https://sam.mimemo.net >>
“Despite their decline, they still serve the purpose of reminiscing the past where people worshiped nature together with their deities, conserving biodiversity along with the culture. They exist even today, amidst human settlements and urban areas and are rich in biodiversity that has been protected by local people for their religious and cultural beliefs. The groves have different deities and varied legends associated with them.” – Haritha John in “Sacred groves of north Kerala: The last refuge for biodiversity amongst urbanisation”, Mongabay, 29 January 2019 <https://india.mongabay.com/2019/01/sacred-groves-of-north-kerala-the-last-refuge-for-biodiversity-amongst-urbanisation/>[↩]
“Though Harsh Berger used the term Ethnobotany only in 1895 this was the practising knowledge of the tribals and aborigines from time immemorial. Traditionally transmitted knowledge about plants, their medicinal and other uses and also their cultural significance are the three levels of ethnobotany. Now this branch has grown to the level of collecting and codifying the knowledge traditionally transmitted through centuries by the tribals. Ethnobotany tries to study the relation between human beings and nature. Ethnic people are knowledgeable and their world view about the sustainable life practices is now studied in modern context. […] The granaries of the knowledge in the memories of the indigenous people, in folk forms, should have patent rights for which people all over the world are fighting.” – C.R. Rajagopalan in “Indigenous knowledge – The CFS Experience”, Summer rain: Harvesting the Indigenous Knowledge of Kerala, Thrissur: Centre for IK/Folklore Studies, 2004, p. 12 <https://worldcat.org/en/title/255522477>[↩]
“To talk about the future is useful only if it leads to action now … with new methods of production and new patterns of consumption: a lifestyle designed for permanence.” – E.F. Schumacher in Small Is Beautiful: A Study of Economics as if People Mattered, p. 16 (Abacus 1984 ed.)
“If the town life was rich, the village life was equally so. … The villagers were not altogether cut off from the activities of town life. … The monotonous life of the villager was often enlivened by rural amusements of varied character. Every village had a common dancing-hall (kalam). Even the village women took part in these public performances like the tunankai, a kind of dance .” – V. R. Ramachandra Dikshitar, The Cilappatikaram (Tinnevelly: The South India Saiva Siddhanta Works Publishing Society, 1978), chapter on “Village and Village Life”, pp. 61
Download, read in full screen mode or listen to A Theatre For All: Sittrarangam—the Small Theatre Madras by Ludwig Pesch (open domain) on Archive.org >>