Malhar: A lyrical exposition
This essay was written in conjunction with an exhibition that I curated for Anant Art Gallery in India in 2020. The exhibition features works by ten Indian artists, Abhijit Saikia, Digbijayee Khatua, Ganesh Das, Indrapramit Roy, Khandakar Ohida, Laxmipriya Panigrahi, Malavika Rajnarayan, Nur Mahammad, Rajib Chowdhury and Tanaya Sharma, as each interpretats their ‘Mann ka Malhar’ (a state of being, through the mind and emotions). Read more below—
Catalogue cover for Malhar: A lyrical exposition. Artwork image: detail of “Quarantine Diary 2” by Indrapramit Roy
Quintessential compositions in raga Malhar see a cluster of such colourful signifiers around monsoon. While they capture the idiomatic sensibility of this raga, its essence is contained in the depth of its gambhir (high) notes, rhythmic gamaks (where a singer forcefully oscillates from one note to another, as a method of ornamentation) and a generous use of all iterative words. Within the realm of Indian mythology and legend, Malhar is one of the most ancient ragas in Hindustani classical music, that hen sung is believed to cause torrential rainfall. In medieval history, stories of legendary maestro Mian Tansen, one of the navratnas (eight jewels) in the Mughal court of Akbar, is believed to have affected the nuances of the existing Megha Malhar to compile an altogether new, Mian Malhar. The beauty of Hindustani classical music is in its inclusivity and adaptability to newer innovations and legible ways of rendition, of that which causes a deep, positive psychological effect and more often than not, impact the course of nature itself.
‘Malhar’ is a family of ragas with over eighteen members. Amongst these are, Gaud Malhar, Nat Malhar, Shuddha Malhar, Dhulia Malhar, but the more prominent ones today are Megha Malhar and Mian Malhar. Individual interpretations of saint musicians like, Surdas, Ramdasi and Meerabai,forms of Malhar are songs of devotion and not essentially harbingers of rainfall. In Indian lore and mythology, magic realism manifests itself popularly in the peculiar power of invocation, mediated by a purity of heart and determination. It is more plausible, that the rainfall metaphorically alludes to a state of mind brought about by the recital of the raga.
“Malhar is a raga of night time. It is usually depicted with a passionate intensity, and commonly visualised in hues of blue and deep purple. ”
Raga, the word in Sanskrit means, ‘colour’. Each raga, associated with a particular rasa or emotion, wherein its structure evokes a certain mood aligned with a season and pahar (time of the day). Despite its impact and association with rains or monsoon, there is a marked theatricality in the formation of bandish (musical compositions) and performances around it. It follows a free verse. From the fear of an uncontrollable storm to a sense of creation, wonderment and tranquility, it has been variably interpreted by vocalists and performers. In its very nature lie, positivity, happiness, fragrance and creative powers. A journey into Malhar fashions as an attempt to interlace classical theories with contemporary visual forms. The curation intends to continue beyond the exhibition space for the artists and well as everyone who engages with it, to develop over time and eventually reveal multiple facets and interpretations. The exhibition brings to light the artist’s interpretation of ‘Mann ka Malhar’, or a state of being (of mind and emotions), with a range of internal or external scapes to engage with. The artists- Abhijit Saikia, Digbijayee Khatua, Ganesh Das, Indrapramit Roy, Khandakar Ohida, Laxmipriya Panigrahi, Malavika Rajnarayan, Nur Mahammad, Rajib Chowdhury and Tanaya Sharma- visually interpreted Malhar in their respective mediums.
The Story, The Myth
Raga Mian Malhar was brought to fame when Tansen was challenged to present raga Deepak in the court by Emperor Akbar, witness the power of the raga. Raga Deepak is known to bring extreme heat the body of the singer and the surroundings. Even today, only interpretational compositions of this raga are sung and not many compositions have survived. Tansen, knowing its implications to cause fire and eventually burn the singer to ashes, requested his daughters Tana and Riri to sing raga Malhar simultaneously. This, on the day of deliverance, cooled the heat caused by Tansen. Although the power of this raga is witnessed in the divine connection of the sky and the earth, effectuated actively by air and water, today this impact can rarely be seen, if at all.
Malhar: A Romantic idea?
Like the celebration of the ‘aesthetics of obscure’ and genius was prevalent in the nineteenth-century Romantic movement, the vocalists and maestros today look back at the ancient and medieval times when compositions and their rendering was so pure that it could move the skies. Today, there may not be a dearth of talent, but occurrences of having a causal effect on nature nowadays is unheard. Tejashree Amonkar ji, in an interview, had mentioned that meaning of Malhar is, ‘Mal ka har’, or to get rid of dirt. The effect of bring rainfall is infact a sweeping, cleansing effect that is brought about.
Romance is intertwined with ‘Mann ka Malhar’in terms of the emotional state and perception of the singer and the audience. The breeze and alleviation of heat by redemptive showers is refreshing just to think of. It also originates in the idea to be with one’s beloved, thereby endorsing a sense of longing. The intonations of this raga are easy on the ears and seek to provide a soothing effect. In raga therapy, Malhar is believed to alleviate sleeplessness and cure sun stroke. It is also effective in the treatment of asthma, in its purifying, cleansing capacity. Pandit Ravi Shankar ji once said, ‘While everywhere else, rains are viewed as a nuisance, the subcontinent welcomes them to bring respite. This however, is debatable, for the cohabitation of the homeless (or with ‘kacha’ houses) and the privileged in our country, each experience it differently. In the case of the former, it would be an addition to their miseries. However, the music of this season reflects joy. The compositions talk of dark clouds, thunder, rain drops, the dancing peacock and parting from the lover.
The Exhibition & Visual interpretation
Various interpretations culminating into dialogues have shaped the course of the curation and creation of this show. Each artist contributing from their homes, with unique and diverse ideas, elucidate on paper, entering into a ‘tryst with Malhar’.
Khandakar Ohida’s audio/visual work, ‘Rain is Falling’ was conceived in the rustic fringes of Kelepada, a village in West Bengal, India. Impacted by changed realities and added complexities due to the pandemic, a lullaby posits itself as an ironical occurrence in the background. With this, the combined energies of music and nature is reinforced by the essence of motherhood; a feeling, an emotion- of comfort, safety, freedom to be and express oneself. Ohida relocates the horizon of ‘Mann ka Malhar’ with nostalgia, in an attempt to reconnect with her roots and emotional depths. The work assumes a therapeutic role for those who engage with it.
A season popularly longed for after the scorching torment, Artist Rajib Chowdhury intrigues into the lanes of Malhar to celebrate a promise of renewal. He chooses, ‘Even the rain’ and ‘Storm’, by the Kashmiri poet, Agha Shahid Ali, to slant across his canvas, like rain drops, colouring it with a striking, imaginative pallette. “To me, monsoon is magic,” he says.
Nur Mahammad’s artworks employ the medium of gouache to articulate his thoughts visually. One can see both literal and metaphorical elements of innocence- the child and the bubbles, within a setting of isolated despair in his works. These unfurl a range of emotions vis-a-vis border politics, the exodus of marginalised, loss of home and identity. “I incorporate the implicit expression of ‘Malhar’ in my works as a psychological terrain, from agony to the ecstasy of optimism,” he shares.
Inverted motifs of flora and fallow lands skirt Digbijayee Khatua’s works, subtly portraying a keen longing to recover that what is lost. This disposition occurs at the cusp of a rural/urban dichotomy, spawned by the experience of the artist’s altered realities. Thence, following a verse of fragility and absurdities- of existence and relationships- these works are an outcome of the liminal subjectivity of his art and practice.
Malavika Rajnarayan has played with paper origami in her works to posit them as exemplars of poetic expression. This act helps her process the complexities around, she says. Female figures consistently articulate feminine discourses in her works. Adept with the knowledge of Carnatic music, Malavika employs her creative instincts to reflect, improvise, imagine, understand and experience through her artworks.
Indrapramit Roy participated with his recent series, ‘Quarantine Diaries’, which directly addresses the absurdities and contradictions of life. Does the downpour weigh heavy upon urban poverty? Does it cleanse? Roy’s works leave a deep question mark on the collective urban psyche and tends to delve into the ‘why’ of the differentially experienced downpour.
In the works of Abhijit Saikia one witnesses real life human subjects come into being. He absorbs them into a scenery from his imagination and encapsulates them in a vein of longing. Displaced, thus, he carefully places elements that do not essentially belong, with intricacy, employing miniature technique to perpetuate the existential ‘Malhar’.
Laxmipriya Panigrahi is gripped by a dual inspiration as she intersperses her artwork with poetry, creating a lyrical rendition in watercolours. Her works see an active transliteration of elements from her life, experiences and engagements. A background of urban cacophony in her soothing poetry emulates the realism of her surroundings, as opposed to that of her childhood days in the village, revealing a conscience capable of resounding layers and layers of thoughts, while one is absorbed in a primary task.
With diligent methodology, gripping motifs, conceptual strength and a soul connection- Ganesh Das’ works reflect natural forms mutating into man-made objects. A bespoke displacement and a shift from roots cause the grotesque in his motif, while the background sticks to a strict image of monsoon, depicting a ‘Malhar’ of sustainability and sensibilities.
Inspired by Salvador Dali’s surrealism, Tanaya Sharma’s digital works are imaginative and thoughtful. Owing to her training in Hindustani classical music, her artworks have helped her realign and revisit her engagements with the past. Her keen ability to find, absorb and reflect optimism brings a breath of fresh air and positivity.
Other forms of Representation
Like a plot rises and culminates into climax, each engagement with Malhar builds up to something and pours with a sweet release. In India, monsoon arrives in midst of two seasons. It is a sweet release when the scorching heat of summers gets unbearable. In music too, compositions on Malhar begin with soft intonations or alaap, gently gets infused with words, and then reaches a high point and an emotional apex where the sonic waves, that intensifies emergence, while being enveloped within it, that impacts the nimbostratus to burst. This sequence is usually seen in the making of films where the plot, due to various factors reaches a high point of chaos and is ultimately cleansed by the climax of the film.
However, various movies and series like Satyajit Ray’s Jalsagar, Anand Tiwari’s Bandish Bandits, and other popular musical compositions are bound by Malhar. Appearance of dancing peacocks are not only symbols of beauty, but also of unrequited love. Chachal bandish (free verse/free flowing composition) like waves are in its inherent nature.
Performance (watch here)
Tulsidas, resorts to the longing and loneliness felt by Rama after the abduction of Sita. The performance in the Indian classical dance form, Kathak, sought to reinterpret the lyrics to represent Abhisarika nayika, a heroine against all odds and overcoming the difficulties of the journey, meets her beloved after being separated for long. Like the percussion sets the laya to dance, rainfall too, as per its intensity, sets the tone for emotions.
Malhar comes across as an extremely powerful raga, and this makes me wonder if it could have any connection with ‘Malhari’, another name for Shiva. According to a local tale in Maharashtra, lord Shiva took the form of Khandoba, to kill the demon ‘Malah’. Malhari is a compound word formed with, ‘Malhsya’ and ‘ari’, collectively meaning, ‘the slayer of demon ‘Malah’. However, the association to Malhar with Malhari, is not heard of or common to Hindustani classical forms.
This raga of sonic monsoonal melodies help us think about the monsoon in a time of transformation. Entangled with shifting materialties of the monsoon: dust entangled with wetness, dense clouds that give no rain, bursts accompanied by silence, and toxicity that manipulates the future of aerosols that become clouds, resonate with the contemporary unpredictabilities that surround us. A unique blend of science, philosophy and myth, classical music celebrates the spirit of evolution, devotion, surrender, gestation and fruition. Malhar and monsoon, co-inspire and co-exist with the other, manifesting in this relationship the sublime intensities and capabilities of nature.
The exhibition can be viewed on Anant Art Gallery’s website.
