“True happiness is not at all expensive. It depends upon that natural spring of beauty and of life, harmony of relationship. Ambition pursues its own path of self-seeking by breaking this bond of harmony, digging gaps, creating dissension. Selfish ambition feels no hesitation in trampling under foot the whole harvest field, which is for all, in order to snatch away in haste that portion which it craves. Being wasteful it remains disruptive of social life and the greatest enemy of civilization.” | Read the full lecture >>
Source: Rabindranath Tagore in “Robbery of the soil” (Calcutta University, 1922), posted by Tony Mitra on a blog “Exploring citizens duty on food security, environmental sustainability, covid and freedom issues” (27 September 2015) https://www.tonu.org/tag/robbery-of-the-soil/ Date visited: 12 January 2021
Every dream of homogeneity stares at an infinite regress: there’s always some aspect of identity, some sect, some culture or language, that doesn’t fit it. To pursue homogeneity is to enter an endless life of purging, secession and self-destructive violence. […]
Khilnani’s heroes, such as the emperor Akbar and his great-grandson Dara Shukoh, tend to be those who build bridges between India’s varied communities and religions; his demons are those, such as Jinnah, who believe “that there was one key identity, religion, which could lock in all the others”. This, believes, Khilnani, is profoundly wrong: “Every dream of homogeneity stares at an infinite regress: there’s always some aspect of identity, some sect, some culture or language, that doesn’t fit it. To pursue homogeneity is to enter an endless life of purging, secession and self-destructive violence.”
Yet Khilnani is scrupulously meticulous, accurate and unromantic in his depiction of his characters – and never hesitates to show the flaws of even those he most approves of. For “by insisting that figures from India’s past be preserved in memory as saints”, he writes, “we deny them not just their real natures, but their genuine achievements”. […]
Ideally in a very profound way – the way families have shared music for thousands of years, and long before music became a commodity:
So it’s a rainy day in 2050 and you and your friends decide you’d like to see a concert. […] Emmy Parker, a cultural futurist and former brand manager for synthesizer maker Moog Music, said that the future could also allow us to experience music and sound in a very profound way, the way families have shared music for thousands of years, and long before “music” became a commodity.
“How can we expand that simple idea, which has been on planet Earth probably for 150,000 years, that we play music together to, number one, connect with each other?” said Parker.
19:40 we play music together, to connect to our higher self or God or universe; to our ancestors, to bring us back to another time and place […] very similar to a time traveler.
We use to heal our minds, our hearts and spirit, and our body, and connect to each other, to our families.
The tambura – also known as tanpura – has long served as India’s most important accompaniment. It accompanies vocal and instrumental performers as well as dance musicians. It has embellished the salons of nobles, merchants and courtisans long before its arrival on the modern concert stage.
Its present form with four strings has been known since the 17th century. It combines the properties of two types of instruments, namely the ancient zither (veena or been) and the present long-necked lute (Sarasvati veena, sitar). Its function and manner of playing distinguishes the tambura from similar instruments used in neighbouring countries. This is because Indian musicians have used a fundamental note since about the 13th century.
Hundreds of melody types – known as raga (lit.’colours’) – have since been created, rediscovered and analysed. They all arise from a fundamental note, known as ‘sadja’, which is articulated as ‘Sa’ during a lesson or vocal performance.
The fundamental note is continuously sounded as the tambura’s ‘supporting’ or ‘base’ note (the bourdon or drone of western music). It is freely chosen in accordance with the vocal or instrumental range of the main performer.
With these basic elements composers, musicians and dancers are able to evoke any conceivable mood or aesthetic experience (rasa). This requires no more than a few additional notes, usually arranged in a particular sequence by which they are readily recognised by discerning listeners. The notes heard in any given raga are drawn from among the proverbial ‘seven notes’ (saptasvara). A competent musician also knows which notes need to be modified by means of embellishments (gamaka) and subtle shades achieved by intonation (sruti).
“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 >>
