One of the most memorable experiences I had while a student
in London in the 1980s was a concert by Ravi Shankar at the
Royal Albert Hall. Stunning improvisations of breathtaking rhythmic
complexity and technical brilliance were of course all part
of the wonders to behold, but my recollection is how, much in
the tradition of the best Western chamber music, so much depth
of sound could be achieved with so few instruments. Drones,
tabla, sitar - that’s pretty much all there was, and all
that was needed to fill the huge concert space with endless
tracts of fascinating musical variation. Even just the tuning-up
was spellbinding and no, I wasn’t high on 12 different
kinds of herbs and spices, as Kinky Friedman might put it. The
great master has of course worked with numerous classical musicians
from the West, Yehudi Menuhin to name but one. Now he has turned
his hand to a highly Western instrumental form, the symphony,
played of course by that highly Western medium, the symphonic
orchestra.
It is perhaps more of a marvel that Shankar waited so long before
creating such a piece. Widely travelled in the West from a young
age, he would have encountered a wide variety of music in 1930s
Paris. Rather than absorb these influences, Shankar’s
direction meant his becoming an ambassador for Indian music
amongst Western musicians and audiences, and his influence in
the 20th century in a multitude of genres, from the
classical art music of Philip Glass to pop and jazz, cannot
be underestimated.
With this Symphony you have to suspend your expectations
in the High Classical or Romantic sense. This may be a four
movement work with conventional indications like Allegro
and Scherzo, but the timbre of the orchestra is coloured
and altered in ways which make the sound unmistakeably non-Western.
The use of a sitar, played by Ravi Shankar’s daughter
Anoushka, is one crucial element. This is by no means a concerto
for sitar and orchestra, but when the instrument appears it
draws the ear’s attention like no other instrument. It
is entirely distinctive in sound, but with Ravi Shankar’s
use of sliding strings and Indian rhythms and scales it makes
perfect idiomatic sense.
This is work without pretention, and indeed, the overall impressions
are of pastoral simplicity or folk-like narrative. There is
a kind of naïveté in the use of the orchestra, with
rather unsubtle use of percussion and the expectation of modulations
and harmonic variety never delivered. It is hard to square the
circle between what we know a symphonic orchestra can do, and
being able to take seriously what it is asked to do here. That
said, Ravi Shankar’s music is never less than highly atmospheric
and rousingly entertaining, and as I say, one has to set aside
expectations established by a tradition from Beethoven to Berio
via Bartók. Neither is there that sense of slowly developing
but unfettered creative magic of the traditional Indian classical
genre. Notated and inflexible, the music remains a sequence
of chunks rather than those delightful exchanges and the rise
and fall of tension and release within musical conversations
between dedicated experts.
There is much enjoyment to be had here, but I find myself frustrated.
The opening ‘sunrise’ drones are wonderful, but
after only 30 seconds we’re thrown into clunky orientalism.
I would beg for a longer transition or sense of development
which grows organically from that superb opening. The first
movement is great fun, but the association with the way Chinese
composers have used the symphony orchestra in the past is unavoidable.
A lyrical atmosphere is sustained in the second movement, the
third establishes multiple rhythmic layers - as conductor David
Murphy accurately describes in his booklet notes, “a hypnotic
effect.” The Finale is the longest of the four
movements, starting with a fragile and plaintive melodic introduction
which once again is all too soon elbowed aside by the orchestra’s
rhythmic juggernaut. The ending, with vocal expressions of tabla
strokes from the orchestra, is all great fun and something in
which Philip Glass fans will find common ground.
With a rich recording of this live concert this is more than
just the souvenir of a remarkable music event. The performance
is terrific, and Anoushka Shankar’s playing alone makes
it worth the asking price. I can’t say every moment of
this uniting of West and East is an unequalled success, and
there are some elements which are downright corny - what one
colleague terms ‘ouch’ moments. I have nothing but
the highest regard and respect for Ravi Shankar and all of the
musicians involved here, and found myself enjoying many aspects
of this piece. On its own however, this Symphony is alas
not the summit of Ravi Shankar’s wide-ranging and deeply
influential legacy.
Dominy Clements
Anoushka Shankar (sitar) 