Well I gave it an honest try, but after three weeks of my forty-day practice pledge I'm waving the white flag in acknowledgement that present circumstances are not conducive to an arbitrarily rigid schedule. There's simply too much going on at irregular times these days to maintain a two-hour practice block each day. Having completed such a pledge twice before, I'm not viewing this concession as a defeat but rather as an acceptance of reality. The three weeks of ritualized practice helped me dig deeper into my riyaz, building momentum on tabla and getting off the ground with pakhawaj. I still intend to work towards the goals I set for myself at the beginning of April, and I plan to share some videos from the practice room in the coming weeks. Orienting my days around a fixed practice schedule while darting around Delhi for a range of engagements is simply not productive at this juncture.
Between lessons and shows, there have been plenty of engagements as of late. I'm taking three lessons a week on average (one on tabla and two on pakhawaj) and that number looks set to increase this week when I start meeting with Ashish Gangani, a young pakhawaj player and dance accompanist. Wednesday night I saw him perform with a group of dancers at Kamani Auditorium and came away so impressed I decided I should contact him. The next morning during my tabla lesson, I told Utpal I hoped to meet Ashish sometime soon. Within five minutes he had dialed him up, told him about me, and handed me the phone. I introduced myself, we chatted briefly, and have since agreed to meet Tuesday evening. Sometimes it just works out like that.
In addition to attending Kalashram's music and dance festival, in hindsight last week was largely about making contact with the Ganganis. Tracing their ancestry to rural Rajasthan, the Ganganis are the central family of the Jaipur kathak gharana and come from a long lineage of hereditary dancers and percussionists. Kathak, tabla, and pakhawaj continue to be the professional inheritance of most male members of the family, and just recently a female Gangani took the stage in Delhi for the first time--the first time a woman from the lineage has performed kathak in public. After chatting with Ashish on Thursday, I went to Kathak Kendra Friday morning to meet with Rajendra Gangani, the presiding patriarch of the Gangani lineage and the leading exponent of Jaipur gharana kathak. Upon arriving, I was a little nervous given his stature in the dance world and the intimidation when approaching Kathak Kendra as a lone American for a meeting with one of the preeminent figures in Indian dance. Loren's guru, Pt. Divyang Vakil, had contacted Rajendra bhai on my behalf a couple weeks prior, and early last week I reached out to schedule the meeting.
While I was obtaining security clearance from the guards out front, a couple middle-aged Indian men entered the gate behind me. They turned out to be the musical accompanists for Rajendra's morning class, one of whom--Yogesh Gangani--I had seen perform at Kamani Auditorium just the previous night. Yogesh, Rajendra's younger brother, is an exceptional tabla accompanist. While I waited for Rajendra, I sat in a rehearsal studio across the hall and watched him warm up. I told him I'd enjoyed his performance at Kamani and asked him the name of thirteen-matra taal they'd presented (raas taal), which had been unfamiliar to me.
Once Rajendra was ready, a student came to fetch me and offered coffee or chai. I entered the room where Rajendra sat in the corner in arm armchair with a disciple bent down touching his feet in pranam. He warmly beckoned for me sit on the riser next to him, introduced me to the kneeling student (who soon left), and we began chatting in Hindi. Any apprehension or nerves dissolved in a matter of seconds and we settled into a calm, comfortable conversation over our coffee. As someone who is generally a little skeptical of guru culture, I must say that Rajendra's demeanor is contagious. The guru vibes are strong with him in the best sort of way. It's rare to meet someone who can make you feel like a better, more capable version of yourself just through the sheer nature of their presence. That was exactly how it felt sitting next to Rajendra Gangani. We spoke mostly in Hindi, with a little English peppered in here and there, and when it was time to end the meeting he invited me to sit in on the morning rehearsal.
As we shifted back to the studio across the hall, Rajendra took a similar position in the armchair next to the accompanists' riser and motioned for me to sit on the riser next to the musicians. The singing, paan-chewing harmonium player sat directly to my left, so close I could look over his notes for each item. To his left sat Yogesh on tabla and the sarangi player sat at the far end of the riser. For an hour I just sat there soaking it all in. The senior students at Kathak Kendra are in the process of polishing twenty-minute solo performances for their exams in May. I saw one male dancer and one female dancer presenting their repertoire to the assembled company, and between items Rajendra would offer corrections or suggestions as needed. Sitting that close to Yogesh during the rehearsal was a treat, as he is truly the epitome of a hereditary dance accompanist. Once the second dancer finished, everyone took a break. I saw that as my moment to leave. I thanked Rajendra in Hindi, bent down to touch his feet in pranam, took the elevator down to the ground floor, and walked out front to find an auto waiting. We parted with plans to talk next week once he returns from a weekend performance in Uttar Pradesh. The takeaway was that I now have the green light to learn from the drummers in the family, of whom there are many. I'll start with Ashish and then see about meeting up with Fateh Singh, one of Rajendra's brothers who is also an accompaniment specialist on both tabla and pakhawaj.
Sometime this week I'll post my recap of Vasantotsava. First I need to consolidate several hours of video. Stay tuned.
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