A guide to the music of Bharatanatyam Darbar Voices
November 8, 2018
Welcome to Darbar Voices, a four-part blog series delving into the world of Indian classical dance in celebration of Darbar Festival, which returns to Sadler’s Wells in November with a dance programme curated by Akram Khan. Discover more about this discipline and hear directly from the artists and experts working in the field as our guest writers share insight into the traditions and ideas behind some of the oldest dance styles in the world.
In the first of this series, we hand over to Praveen Prathapan (AKA The Flute Guy), an Indian Classical musician and former NASA Scientist. Praveen left his academic career in pursuit of music and has now amassed almost 10 million views on Facebook and YouTube. Praveen has collaborated with Emeli Sande, Ustad Rahat Fateh Ali Khan, and Cheryl Cole and, at 23 years old, is also a trained vocalist, percussionist, and composer.
Here Praveen offers insight into canartic music, and its relationship to bharatanaytam.
Carnatic music shares many traits with Western classical music, such as the employment of major and minor scales, which comprise just two of the thousands of ragas in Carnatic music. Unlike its Western counterpart however, Carnatic music distinctively does not utilise harmonies or chord progressions. Nevertheless, its largest component, manodharmam (improvisation), makes Carnatic music share remarkably similar characteristics with blues and jazz music (didn’t expect that, did you).
Carnatic music is also known for some of the most complex rhythmic patterns and talas (beat cycles) in the world. Seriously, it gets crazy.
An example of the carnatic music style. Bharat Sundar sings solo the Raga Thodi:
Carnatic music often accompanies the dance style of bharatanatyam, a subgenre of Indian classical dance renowned for its complex footwork, detailed array of mudras (gestures), and storytelling style.
Watch bharatanatyam duo Renjith and Vijna perform with live musicians:
Traditionally, bharatanatyam performances have been accompanied by the Vadya Trayam (Holy Trinity) of Carnatic instruments: Veena (a plucked stringed instrument), Venu (flute), and the Mridangam (drum). These three instruments have specific functions: the Mridangam complements the rhythmic foot movements of the dancer, the Veena enhances the texture with its array of tala strings and main strings, and the flute decorates the melodies with ornamentations.
Praveen performs an Indian classical version of the theme from Titanic on the Venu, accompanied by the Veena:
Since the colonisation of India by the British, the violin has been added to this repertoire, replacing the Veena which in turn is gradually disappearing from bharatanatyam performances. The most important instrument on stage, the Nattuvangam (hand cymbals), is tapped in conjunction with the dancer’s feet. More modern performances of bharatanatyam have seen new instruments being employed, such as the drum pad, for special effects like temple bells, the Sitar, for North Indian bhajan-style pieces, and even the piano, to introduce harmonies. Finally, the vocalist sings the melodic lines, which contain the all-important sahithya (lyrics), which the dancer portrays visually.
The confluence of carnatic music and bharatanatyam is a beautiful thing to behold, and has stood the test of time for centuries. However, like everything in life, art changes and evolves. What does the future look like? I predict three major things to happen.
The first is the likeliest: with globalisation transpiring at an unprecedented rate, I believe genres will merge more frequently; artists have already begun to incorporate elements of ballet into bharatanatyam, and harmonies into Carnatic music. Improvisation in bharatanatyam has not been explored to the extent that Carnatic music has, and so my second prediction is that we will see more of this experimental technique.
Finally, with the explosion of the digital world, well-known artists of the future will be those who have found a way to bring these age-old traditions to our screens and social media. All of these, some of these, or none of these, could happen. However, one thing is for certain: these ancient art forms are still being practised today, and I’m grateful to witness it in the 21st century.