Two Men and Music
Two Men and Music
Nationalism
in the
Making of an Indian
Classical Tradition
Janaki Bakhle
1
3
Oxford University Press, Inc., publishes works that further
Oxford University’s objective of excellence
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Printed in the United States of America
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THREE
THE CONTRADICTIONS
OF MUSIC’S MODERNITY
Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande
The year was . Music had been in the public eye for close to two decades.
Princely states were still providing the major source of both employment and
economic stability for musicians, but independent schools for teaching music
had been founded in cities in all three presidencies. In Bombay Presidency,
music appreciation societies in Pune, Bombay, Satara, Sangli, and elsewhere
had begun conducting classes for select groups of young men and, occasion-
ally, women, and the process by which musical education for a middle-
class public would become systematic seemed under way. It was a time that
an interested contemporaneous observer might have described as one of prog-
ress. And yet, no less a figure than Pandit Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande, a
renowned musicologist and scholar, wrote in a letter to a friend that he felt as
if he were witnessing the impending demise of music.
The recipient of Bhatkhande’s letter in was his close friend and col-
league Rai Umanath Bali, a taluqdar from Daryabad, close to Lucknow. Rai
Umanath would have read this lament: “Poor music. I really do not know
what sins music has commit[t]ed. No protector comes forward to champion
its cause. Nobody appreciates its great utility. People will certainly have to re-
pent one day. The next decade will kill most of the leading artists and scholars
and by the time the people wake up there will be only fifth class musicians
left to please them.”1 This premonition of loss seems extraordinary, voiced as
it was by Bhatkhande, already well known by then as a protector and cham-
pion of Hindustani music.
When Bhatkhande spoke and wrote, he did so mainly about North In-
dian vocal music, and within that subfield of Indian music, his accomplish-
ments were many and wide-ranging. By the second decade of the twentieth
century, he had excavated and made public a large number of old manu-
scripts. He had collected and notated thousands of musical compositions that
he had subsequently compiled in many pedagogical volumes. He was a pro-
lific writer of historical and musicological treatises on music in Sanskrit and
Marathi (his native language) and an influential theorist and historian. A few
years after writing the letter to Rai Umanath Bali, the two of them collabo-
rated with another wealthy zamindar, Nawab Ali, to found a college of music.
Toward the end of his life, he was sought after by rulers of princely states to
explain the intricacies of music, by leaders of the nationalist movement to es-
tablish departments of music in newly founded universities, and by high-
ranking officials in the provincial governments to proctor examinations and
evaluate teaching methods and curricula in new schools of music.
Bhatkhande’s accomplishments had all been in the service of music.2 He
had spent the first two decades of the twentieth century actively involved in
bringing music to the forefront of public consciousness, advocating the need
to make music easily available in terms of access to both musical perform-
ances and musical learning. And yet, in , his lament sounded heartfelt.
Had something changed between when he began his career in music in the
early years of the twentieth century and a mere two decades later? Had some-
thing gone wrong? There was a clear sense of an impending failure, alluded to
in his letter, and indeed, as we shall see, his own failures were quite real. In
the literature about him, biographical and historical, these failures have all
but disappeared. Because of his successes Bhatkhande is considered an icon
not just in the modern Indian state of Maharashtra, but also in the larger
world of Hindustani music in India.
In this chapter, the focus is both on Bhatkhande’s accomplishments and on
what is left out of the extant literature: his disappointments, failures, and flaws.
He is presented as a flawed secularist, as a failed modernist, and as an arrogant
nationalist. This may seem an odd way to proceed, but a close look at his
failures enables one to disentangle his tripartite understanding of music—
He turned to Carnatic music mainly for its formulas and order.19 His desire
to establish a Sanskritic base for Carnatic music was propelled by an instru-
mental purpose. If such a base could be established that met with his scholas-
tic approval, he intended to use it to systematize North Indian music. His
criticism of Carnatic music was balanced by his dislike for the arbitrariness
and lack of order in North Indian music, where tradition and performance
dictated the rules of music rather than the other way around. His desire to
know the intricacies of Carnatic music was governed by a drive to affix a sys-
tem of similar rules (niyam) that would be understood by all practitioners,
students, and connoisseurs of North Indian music.
The most important result of his conversation and meeting with Sub-
Bhatkhande broke off the conversation here, writing: “Forget it. There is no
point in arguing with this Khansaheb.”27
The arrogance is unmistakable in this conversation, as is Bhatkhande’s
hostility. What we are given in this account is a judgment on a musician fol-
lowed by a conversation that confirms the indictment. The question of theft
is central, going to the heart of Bhatkhande’s project: What are the origins of
Indian music? The immediate impression this conversation conveys is that of
an expansive musician in conversation with an arrogant, prejudiced, and irate
pedant. Moreover, it appears that Bhatkhande was simply lapsing into elite
Hindu prejudice against “low-class” Muslims and rejecting an alternative his-
tory simply because it had been suggested to him by a Muslim musician. We
can concede that Bhatkhande’s prejudice is buttressed by his arrogance; what
we also see in this conversation is his exasperation, once again, with throw-
By , Bhatkhande had finished his tours and was ready to embark on his
own writing projects. By now he was familiar with most of the major Sanskrit
texts, such as Bharata’s Natyashastra (dating from the second century ..
to the second century ..), Sharangdeva’s Sangit Ratnakara (a thirteenth-
century work), through Ahobal’s Sangit Parijat (seventeenth century ). From
our location in the twenty-first century, the obsession with Sanskrit texts
might appear part of an early, elaborated ideological sympathy for a future
Hindutva. Yet to see Bhatkhande’s focus on Sanskrit texts as part of this ide-
ology might not be giving him enough credit and would certainly mean ig-
noring a great many of his assertions. For one thing, his scholasticism would
have inevitably led him to Sanskrit texts on music theory. It would not be
possible to ignore Sanskrit texts even if there could be no straight line from
the Natyashastra to the present. Crooked as the line might be, there was a cor-
pus of texts on music written in Sanskrit, translated on occasion into Persian,
such as Faqirullah’s Rag Darpan, that could not be ignored if Bhatkhande was
serious about writing a complete history. The texts could be deemed irrele-
vant or inaccurate, as Bhatkhande argued, but to not delve into extant trea-
tises on music that predated those in Persian or Arabic would be unthinkable.
What set Bhatkhande apart from his contemporaries in the world of music,
Bhatkhande wrote initially in Sanskrit, which had prestige but limited acces-
sibility. Given his project, this may seem curious, because his interests were
democratic and egalitarian, but it is understandable. A modern national clas-
sical music needed a classical language. Furthermore, there was a scholarly
precedent for him in Sir William Jones’s evaluation of Indo-Persian musico-
logical treatises, many of which were translations of Sanskrit treatises. Even
though both Arabic and Persian had been used as spoken and written lan-
guages far more recently than Sanskrit, Bhatkhande did not consider them
adequate for a history of music.39 They were translation languages, in his
view, not authorial ones. In such an understanding, he followed an estab-
lished colonial and elite pattern of prognosticating about India’s future by as-
serting the primacy of Sanskrit, and thereby a Brahmin understanding as
well, as the only authentic window into India’s past without which no compe-
tent history of her future was imaginable.40 Bhatkhande’s deference to San-
The vadi swar is the father, the samvadi his first son, who had less sta-
tus than his father but more than anyone else in the house. The anu-
vadi swars are the servants, whose sole function is to facilitate the
Last Days
The fourth volume of HSP was Bhatkhande’s final writing project. His failing
health and the noises in his head grew burdensome, but his devotion to music
never flagged. In , he had been asked by the ruler of Indore, Tukoji Rao
Holkar, about the superiority of singers over instrumentalists. His response
had been careful and prompt: singers were superior, he claimed, and he had it
on good Sanskrit authority that this was so.68 In , the zeal to answer any
question about music, no matter where or how, had not diminished at all, as
one sees in his correspondence with his old friend, Rai Umanath Bali. This
time the issue at hand was not conferences but high-school music textbooks
for the schools of the United Provinces (UP). In what seems to have been a
somewhat tense correspondence, he wrote, “I am sorry to learn that the Alla-
habad people have successfully stolen a march over you in the matters of
School text books. It appears they worked secretly in the matter and managed
to get their books approved.”69 By Allahabad, he was referring to a rival
music institution. In Bhatkhande’s identification of the problem, Bali had
been tricked because the UP government had simply gone about producing
textbooks the wrong way. The Bengal provincial government, on the other
hand, had done it correctly. What was the difference? In the same letter,
Bhatkhande wrote “they appointed a committee of music knowing people to
consider the whole subject and then asked publicly writers to submit their
work. Even a man living in Bombay like myself was put on the committee.
My views on the Hindusthani System were accepted by that Govt. Rev. Pop-
ley will tell you all that happened in Calcutta. Prof. Mukerji of Lucknow
knows about it.70 My name was suggested to the Bengal Govt. by Dr. Ra-
bindranath Tagore himself. In his own institution at Shanti Niketan, songs
I must state honestly here, that you never asked either myself or
Shrikrishna [his student, and principal of the Marris College, Shri-
krishna Ratanjankar] to prepare small textbooks for the schools of the
province. If you had done that we could have finished the thing in a
couple of weeks. . . . Our college textbooks are enough to supply
material for books if necessary at a moment’s notice. The fact is that
you yourself did not know what was being done behind the Purdah in
Allahabad and failed to ask me to prepare the books. How can you
then blame either myself or Shrikrishna for negligence in the matter?
Putting aside his ire, he volunteered to help get the books published, suggest-
ing ways to popularize them quickly, but he was not pleased by his friend’s
suggestion that he needed to secure favorable opinions of his work.
Conclusion
Bhatkhande had cofounded the Marris College with Rai Umanath Bali in
. He was neither robust nor healthy at that point. He had begun to suffer
from high blood pressure and, as a result, heard “singing noises” in his head
all day and night.73 He had also suffered a severe hip injury and needed
sedatives to tackle his unrelieved insomnia. His physical discomforts not-
withstanding, he remained involved in the administrative affairs of the
Marris College and embroiled in a power struggle with an old friend,
Nawab Ali, over the hiring of a music teacher and the firing of an unpopular
principal.
Bhatkhande had lived for the previous twenty-five years without either
the comfort or the financial and emotional responsibilities of married life. He
Had he been given a choice, he would have chosen one of two sacred sites in
which to die, sites that he had kept apart—either Kashi (Benares) or the Luc-
know Music College. As it happened, he died in Bombay, the city of his
birth, ten years after the founding of his college.
With Bhatkhande’s death, a newly formed practice of music scholasticism
seems to have died as well. Not only had he laid out a theory and history for
Hindustani music that musicologists, musicians, and historians would need
to contend with seriously in any further study of the subject (more than any
other musicologist of his time or since), he had set the terms for rigorous,
erudite scholarship on music. Bhatkhande not only documented all he wrote,
he made his sources public. In so doing, he established a standard for music
scholarship that, regrettably, has not followed his example. Instead, letters,
diaries, original compositions, and rare books have been kept hidden for
decades, rarely shown even to research scholars, and mostly made available
only to a deeply entrenched insider community that accepts hagiography as
the sole acceptable mode of historical writing. On occasion, fragments of pri-
mary sources are published but no citations are given; this makes it impossi-
ble for anyone else to have firsthand access to them. Such secrecy would have
been anathema to Bhatkhande.
Bhatkhande was by no means alone in his desire to bring some order to
the performance and pedagogy of music, but his genius lay in the curious mix
of his approach. He blended high-minded scholasticism with rigorous at-
tention to citation, documentation, and proof, always driven by a desire to
make music more accessible to a larger public. Bhatkhande’s textbooks facili-
tated the teaching of music out of as many homes as there were teachers
and in as many homes as there were students. The early decades of the twen-
Chapter 3
. Letter to Rai Umanath Bali, May , . Property of Rai Swareshwar Bali,
Lucknow. Published in Bhatkhande Smruti Grantha (Hindi and English), Indira
Kala Sangeet Vishwavidyalaya, Khairagarh, .
. Bhatkhande’s musicological contributions were as follows: ( ) he established ten
thaats, or groups, into which he placed all of the ragas most commonly
sung or played. These were kalyan, kafi, khamaj, bhairav, bhairavi, bilaval, todi,
marwa, purvi, and asavari. Each of the ragas belonging to a group followed a set
of rules about the combination and order of pitches that both distinguished it
from other ragas within the same thaat but also from other thaats themselves. ()
Bhatkhande also explained the “theory of time,” which was fundamentally im-
portant for the performance of ragas. Every raga according to this classically de-
rived system has a stipulated time for its performance, so designated as to maxi-
mize the force of its affective qualities. Ragas typically convey a mood, an affect
or emotion, and there are suggested rules for the appropriate time of day or night
when they should be performed. There are early morning ragas, afternoon ragas,
early evening ragas, night ragas, and late-night ragas. () In addition to formulat-
ing a notation system, partly borrowed from a Western high art music, he wrote
down the basic definition of a raga: five pitches are minimally necessary in both
the ascension and descension of the raga, without which its character can not be
gauged; sa (the fixed first pitch of any scale) can never be discarded and both ma
(the fourth pitch) and pa (the fifth) cannot be discarded, so all ragas have either
sa and ma (the interval of a fourth) or sa and pa (the interval of a fifth); ragas can
be broadly classified under three categories, audava, five pitches; shadava, six
pitches; and sampurna, which means complete, and thus seven pitches.
In other words, for a raga to be classified as such, it must minimally contain
five pitches and an interval of either a fourth or a fifth; Bhatkhande’s most eso-
teric contribution related to microtones and pitches. In Bharata’s Natyashastra
(from the second century .. to the second century ..), a Sanskrit treatise on
‒
the performing arts, the author gives us the gamut of twenty-two shrutis (micro-
tones) that we can hear. In order to arrive at a fixed scale, the seven principal
notes, or pitches, were placed along this spectrum. The pitches are shadja (sa ),
rishabh (re), gandhara (ga ), madhyama (ma ), pancham (pa ), dhaivata (dha), and
nishad (ni ). According to the couplet in the Natyashastra, the formula for the
number of microtones contained within each successive pitch is as follows: ---
---. In effect, the number of microtones denoted the range within which the
pitch could be located. We are told that in ancient times the fixed scale was de-
rived by fixing the pitches on the last microtone in the range of microtones con-
tained within each pitch. By this definition, the first pitch, shadja, would be lo-
cated on the fourth shruti, rishabh on the seventh shruti, gandhar on the ninth
shruti, madhyam on the thirteenth shruti, pancham on the seventeenth shruti,
dhaivat on the twentieth shruti, and nishad on the twenty-second shruti. To de-
termine the actual measurement of a microtone, the text tells us that two veenas
(an ancient instrument that predates the sitar) were used. The first one was tuned
according to the microtonal formula; the second one was lowered by one micro-
tone on one pitch. Pancham (the fifth scale degree) was lowered by one micro-
tone, and the difference between the pancham of the first and second veena was
considered the sound gap between two shrutis. Bhatkhande found this scale in-
adequate as the basis for contemporary music performances and arrived at
a slightly different formula, which had one difference: he located the pitches
on the first shrutis, as opposed to the last. The new ascription was shadja—
first shruti, rishabh—fifth shruti, gandhara—eighth shruti, madhyama—tenth
shruti, pancham—fourteenth shruti, dhaivata—eighteenth shruti, and Nishadh—
twenty-first Shruti. This new configuration coincided with the pitches belonging
to what is known as the bilaval saptak (saptak means seven notes, as opposed to
an octave; in Hindustani music the high sa is the first note of the next saptak ).
This scale is widely used as the foundational scale of modern Hindustani music
by Bhatkhande’s students.
. See Sobhana Nayar, Bhatkhande’s Contribution to Music (Bombay, ), –.
. Ibid., . Nayar defines dhrupad as “a type of classical song set in a raga having
intricate rhythmic patterns which flourished in the th and th centuries” and
khayal as “the highest form of classical art in North India. It allows melodic vari-
ation and improvisation within the framework of a raga and is more free and
flowery compared to Dhrupad.”
. All biographical information is taken from the preface to Hindusthani Sangeet
Padhdhati (HSP ), vol. (in Marathi; Bombay, ); Nayar, Bhatkhande’s Con-
tribution to Music; Shrikrishna Ratanjankar, Sangeet Acharya Pandit V. N. Bhatk-
hande (Bombay, ); Gokhale, Vishrabdha Sharada, vols. –; and articles from
the Marathi journal Sangeet Kala Vihar. All translations are mine.
‒
. See Nayar, Bhatkhande’s Contribution to Music, . Also see prefatory remarks to
all volumes of his diaries.
. The five volumes of diaries are the property of Ramdas Bhatkal, Popular
Prakashan, Bombay. I shall refer to the diaries hereafter as BD, vols. –. Volume
and page numbers are here cited as they are given in the unpublished manu-
scripts. All translations mine.
. BD, :.
. See, for example, his conversation with Mr. Tirumallya Naidu, November ,
BD, :, and November , , :.
. The Sangit Ratnakara is a thirteenth-century text that was partially reprinted in
Calcutta in . In , the first complete edition in two volumes was pub-
lished in Poona, edited by Mangesh Ramakrishna Telang, with some critical
notes in Marathi. The best-known critical edition was published by the Adyar
Library and Research Center, Madras, in . It included the entire text in San-
skrit, with two commentaries by Kallinatha and Simhabhupala. For my pur-
poses, I am using an English translation of the Adyar edition of the Sanskrit text,
by R. K. Shringy and Prem Lata Sharma (Delhi, ).
. BD, :, and November , , :.
. Ibid., .
. See B. R. Deodhar, “Pandit Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande: Vyaktitva tatha Karya”
(Hindi), Sangeet Kala Vihar (): –.
. In the diaries, Bhatkhande spells Dikshitar’s name incorrectly, and throughout
the chapter I have chosen to use the correct spelling. In her review of the Hindi
translation of his Southern Tour Diary, Sakuntala Narasinhan notes that “like
most lay north Indians, Bhatkhande too mis-spells south Indian names. Sub-
barama Dikshitar is given as Subram Dikshit. . . . Most long and short vowels
are messed up.” Narasinhan goes on to ask a most pertinent question: “One
wonders how he missed the correct names of those he sought meetings with”
(book reviews, Journal of the Indian Musicological Society . []: –).
. BD, :.
. BD, :–.
. BD, :.
. BD, :.
. “I had heard that Southern music was systematic. In one sense, this is absolutely
true. . . . they even have some knowledge of Swaras . . . However, it would
be wrong to claim that there is knowledge of Sanskrit granthas here or that San-
skritic music is performed here” (BD, :).
. BD, :.
. BD, :.
. In Ranade’s Hindustani Music, n. , S. M. Tagore is listed as having written the
‒
following books: Jatiya Sangeetvishayak Prastav (), Yantra Kshetra Deepika:
Sitar Shiksha Vishayak Grantha (), Mridangmanjari (), Harmonium
Sootra (), English Verses Set to Hindu Music (), Yantrakosha (), Six
Principal Raga-s-with a Brief View of the Hindu Music (), A Few Lyrics of
Owen Meredith Set to Hindu Music (), Hindu Music from Various Authors
(), Sangeetsara Sangraha (), and Nrityankura (). Complete citations
for these titles are absent. A few pages after giving the list of Tagore’s publica-
tions, Dr. Ranade gives a chronological list of publications on music, in which
the date of publication of one of Tagore’s works is different than that given ear-
lier. Balkrishnabua Ichalkaranjikar is listed as having authored a book in , yet
his biographers claim he could not read or write. Yet Dr. Ranade’s work is a bea-
con of light and I am deeply grateful to him for his help.
. BD, My Eastern Travels, :. Conversation with Gaurihar Tagore.
. BD, :.
. BD, :.
. In Ashok Ranade’s Hindustani Music (), Tohfat-ul-Hind is given as a text writ-
ten in the early eighteenth century for the son of the last powerful Mughal em-
peror, Aurangzeb (–).
. BD, :–.
. BD, :.
. BD, :.
. Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread
of Nationalism (London, ).
. See Anupa Pande, A Historical and Cultural Study of the Natyasastra of Bharata
(Jodhpur, ), chapter .
. This assertion is made even more forcefully in contemporary India, where musi-
cians will claim that there is no need for proof since it is all given in the shastras.
Personal communications with musicians, February .
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :. In the most recent translation of the Natyashastra, the most precise
dating of its origination remains unclear and the most that scholars can claim is
that it was probably published between .. and .. Not merely is the
dating of the text a problem, it remains a thorny and contested issue whether
there was actually someone named Bharata who wrote the text or whether it was
a pseudonym. See Pande, A Historical and Cultural Study of the Natyasastra of
Bharata.
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :.
. BD, :.
. BD, : , .
‒
. See HSP, : –, in which Bhatkhande wrote, “Remember that because a few
Muslim musicians have succeeded in capturing our music, it doesn’t stand to rea-
son that there is a Yavanick text that can do the same.” He went on to cite as nec-
essary milestones the same authors he had earlier mentioned, Bharat, Sha-
rangdeva, Lochan, and Ahobal. Also see and , in which he narrated an
encounter with a “Khansaheb” that sounds very much like his meeting with
Karamatullah Khan in Allahabad.
. See Jones, On the Musical Modes of the Hindoos.
. For a literary history of the debate between Anglicists and Orientalists, see Gauri
Viswanathan, Masks of Conquest: Literary Study and British Rule in India (New
York, ), and Bernard Cohn, Colonialism and Its Forms of Knowledge (Prince-
ton, N.J., ).
. B. R. Deodhar, Pillars of Hindustani Music, trans. Ram Deshmukh (Bombay,
), .
. The first volume did not have a table of contents, unlike the other three. HSP
was translated into Hindi and Gujarati, but the second Marathi edition of these
texts was published only in . In the new edition, a few changes were made,
but the attempt was to keep the text in the original as untouched as possible. In a
few places the Marathi has been copyedited, but most of it has been left un-
changed. Editorial changes to the original text are in the form of introductory
prefaces, lists of texts referred to in the original, an annotated chronology of
Bhatkhande’s life, select quotations from his diaries and explicatory glosses of his
theory, all written by his student Prabhakar Chinchore. The actual text of the
original HSP has been left basically unchanged. Finally, a new table of contents,
in conformity with the style of the original volumes , , and , was also com-
posed for the new edition of volume , and volume was divided into two.
. Letter to Rai Umanath Bali, May , . Property of Rai Swareshwar Bali,
Lucknow.
. Nayar, Bhatkhande’s Contribution to Music, .
. HSP :.
. These were Raga Tarangini, Hridaya Kautuk, Hridaya Prakash, Sangeet Parijat,
Raga Tattva Vibodha, Sadraga Chandrodaya, Raga Manjari, Raga Mala, Anupa
Sangeet Ratnakar, Anupa Sangeet Vilas, Anupankush, Rasa Kaumudi, Swarame-
lakalanidhi, Raga Vibodha, Chaturdandi Prakashika, Sangeet Saramrit, and Raga
Lakshana. For more on these books, see Nayar, Bhatkhande’s Contribution to
Music, –.
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :.
‒
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :–.
. These are all names of ragas that clearly bespeak their Muslim origin, or as
Bhatkhande might say, derivation.
. Shastra is one of those words, common now to a few modern Indo-Aryan lan-
guages derived from Sanskrit, which is impossible to translate accurately. The ac-
ceptable translation would be “science” but also “classicism” and “rules.”
. HSP, :; emphasis mine.
. HSP, :.
. The Panchatantra was a collection of Puranic fables that had hortatory morals at
the conclusion of each tale.
. HSP, :–.
. See, for example, HSP, :.
. It was a common myth that in Akbar’s time, the singer Tansen was able to light
fires by singing the raga Deepak—which means light—and needed to immerse
himself in water before doing so in order to avoid being burned to death by the
power of the raga.
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :.
. HSP, :.
. By , when Bhatkhande published his fourth and final volume, he had left
much of his anger behind. By now, he had countrywide fame and had less to prove
than in the earlier volumes, written soon after his tours. In the last volume, he con-
centrated on the explication of the differences between the various Sanskrit and
Persian texts, on more esoteric matters such as the theory of affect related to music
(rasa ), and on the mathematics of microtones (shruti ). There are fewer polemical
utterances in this last volume than in the first three. He even provided a genealog-
ical list of Muslim musicians going as far back as the early twelfth century. The
tone is not angry, sarcastic, or denigrating, as in the other volumes. His most ex-
pansive anecdote in this volume points to the ignorance of princely state rulers
about music. The moral of this story for his students was simple and even gracious,
advising his students against demanding the performance of rare ragas by musi-
cians in public forums so as not to needlessly humiliate them. From a man who
spent a great deal of his life finding ways to provoke and dismiss musicians, this is
a rare change. Bhatkhande expresses genuine sympathy for the plight of a musi-
cian subjected to the whimsical and ignorant demands of rich princes (HSP :).
It is not that there are no dismissive paragraphs on musicians at all to be found in
this volume, but there is a marked difference in both the number and quality of his
comments compared to those in earlier volumes. In this one, they are still ignorant
‒
but not arrogant and willing to concede their lack of knowledge in Bhatkhande’s
presence. When confronted with a question they could not answer, they deferred
to Bhatkhande’s superior knowledge of the subject and freely confessed that their
education was not bookish or systematic. Of course, Bhatkhande does here what
he did in his tours, which is to show off his excellence. But in , he was seventy-
two years old, and perhaps he had mellowed a little.
. In addition to these publications, his speech at the first All-India Music Confer-
ence in , “A Short Historical Survey of Hindustani Music and The Means to
Place it on a Scientific Foundation with a View to Make its Study as Easy as Pos-
sible,” was published as a short book. In it, he summarized what he had observed
in his tours, written in his Marathi volumes, and believed about music’s history.
In his grandiosely titled Music Systems in India: A Comparative Study of Some of
the Music Systems of the th, th, th, and th Centuries, he evaluated a number
of Sanskrit texts for their musicological contributions to the study of music.
Both booklets are condensed and shortened versions of his writings in Marathi,
so I will not dwell on them here. He also collected “popular” songs in Gujarati
and Marathi and wrote some journal articles. At the time of his death, he had
published sixteen music-related works, and two additional ones were released
posthumously.
. See Gokhale, Vishrabdh Sharada, :–, in particular, Gokhale’s comment
about Bhatkhande’s constant willingness to clear up a misunderstanding about
music.
. Letter to Rai Umanath Bali, May , . Property of Rai Swareshwar Bali,
Lucknow.
. Popley was the author of Music of India (Calcutta, ) and a key member of the
music conferences.
. Nayar, Bhatkhande’s Contribution to Music.
. As cited in ibid., , from Bhatkhande Smriti Grantha, ed. N. Chinchore
(Khairagarh, ).
. Unpublished letter to Rai Umanath Bali, February , .
. Letter to Rai Umanath Bali, July , . Published in Bhatkhande Smruti
Grantha (in Hindi and English; Khairagarh, ).
. V. N. Bhatkhande, “Propoganda for the betterment of the present condition of
Hindusthani Music” (Delhi, ).
. Unpublished letter to Rai Umanath Bali, May , . Property of Rai Swaresh-
war Bali, Kaisar Bagh, Lucknow.
. Unpublished letter to Rai Umanath Bali, May , . Property of Rai Swaresh-
war Bali, Kaisar Bagh, Lucknow.
. See Prabhakar Chinchore, “Ullekhaneeya Ghatnakram,” preface to new edition
of Hindusthani Sangeet Paddhati, vol. (in Marathi; Bombay, ).
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. Letter to Rai Umanath Bali, May , . “I may have to go to Benares to see
what they are doing in the H. University. Pandit Madan Mohan Malaviya came
to me yesterday and requested me to spend a week in Benares.” Property of Rai
Swareshwar Bali, Lucknow.
. See B. R. Deodhar, Thor Sangeetkar, trans. Ram Deshmukh (in Marathi; Bom-
bay, ), –.
. See K. B. Deval, Music East and West Compared (Poona, ), The Hindu Musi-
cal Scale and the Shrutis (Poona, ); and Theory of Indian Music as Ex-
pounded by Somnatha (Poona, ); E. Clements, A Note on the Use of European
Musical Instruments in India (Bombay, ). Deval and Clements founded the
Philharmonic Society of Western India at Satara in . Clements was a retired
district judge and Deval was a retired deputy collector. Both came from the dis-
trict of Satara, in western India. Deval had published the first “scientific” work
on microtones and constructed a harmonium in accordance with his findings.
He had presented it at the first All-India Music Conference, where it was
soundly rejected by Bhatkhande and others.
. See Vinayak Purohit, The Arts in Transitional India, vols. and (Bombay, ).
. See Deodhar, Thor Sangeetkar, –.
. Kesari, June , . The article reported a talk given by Professor Krishnarao
Mule at the house of one of Poona’s most respected music patrons, Abbasaheb
Muzumdar, on the subject of music and musicology.
. Unpublished letter to Rai Umanath Bali, May , . “D. K. from Poona
wrote to me asking if it was true that you are trying to hand over the college to
the University on the ground that you were unable to go on with it. . . . The
only difficulty with me is that I have never asked anybody to give me money for
any of my activities and find it awkward to begin to do it now.” Property of Rai
Swareshwar Bali, Lucknow.
. See Acharya Shrikrishna Ratanjankar “Sujaan”: Jeevani tatha Smritisanchay (in
Hindi, Bombay, ), .
. Sangeet Kala Vihar (): –.
Chapter 4
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