Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
Few musicians in the world achieve the gold standard for their respective genre. Hindustani music is no different: each master of this genre has their own strengths, and astute listeners can recognize the appeal of each person’s voice quality, voice culture, technique, and development.
When a master fully captures the raga they are performing, while demonstrating unparalleled prowess in the assorted vocal techniques required in Hindustani music, it serves as ‘the gold standard’ – an example of what to do when showcasing a certain raga.
One of these geniuses was Ustaad Amir Khan, also known as “Khansaheb.”
When I first began learning Hindustani music, my gurus and peers would tell me that Ustaadji was perhaps the best exponent of classical music since ancient times. I was confused, unable to grasp at the time what exactly the “X factor” was in his music. Was it his voice, culture, style, or presentation? In my inexperience I simply labelled him an old master.
But after listening to Ustaadji’s music recently, my opinion has changed. By taking the time to listen to his vilambit khyal (slow compositions) in various ragas, I’m filled with an intense desire to share what I now understand about the nuances of Amir Khansaheb’s musicianship from a few of his recordings.
Morning Ragas
Morning ragas refer to tunes in Hindustani music considered suitable for the earlier hours of the day for various reasons, including their relative frequencies and the emotion (“bhaav”) that they inspire in the performer and listener. Khansaheb’s performances of morning ragas, like his recording of the well-known raga Bilaskhani Todi, exemplify his strength.
Ustaadji begins with the vilambit khayal, a slow-tempo piece in the taal (beat cycle) Jhoomra: ‘hē bairāgi rūpa dharē.’ His mastery is evident as he begins his development of the raga: an unwavering control over his lower range. Ragas like Bilaskhani Todi tend to be grave and contemplative, and Ustaadji’s bass voice reaches as far down as the lower rishabh (re) with the same gravity and, importantly, the same volume that he does the rest of the scale. Too many times, I have heard musicians having to soften and almost silence their voices in their lower range. Ustaadji has no such caveat: he glides between the main and lower saptak (octave) at the same volume throughout his performance.
As he continues his development, the method by which he forms his phrases grows clearer. Each time he reaches a new swara (note) that he is interested in developing and exploring within the raga, he does not leave behind the rest of the scale in the pursuit of thērav (patience, skillful hesitation); rather, after reaching the note, he incorporates the rest of the notes to show how it fits into the overall contours of the raga. Rather than treating each note discretely as its own portion of the development, he relates each note to the whole scale, forming a full picture of the raga that leaves the listener with a feeling of satisfaction after the vilambit khayal is finished.
Moving Throughout the Day: Sandhiprakash Ragas
Leaving the morning and approaching dusk, Khansaheb’s voice does not falter. Arguably one of his greatest ‘gold standard’ recitals is Ustaadji’s performance of raag Marwa.
He begins this with another vilambit khayal in Jhoomra: ‘rē jaga bāwarē.’ Importantly, the swaroop (general framework/phrases) of Marwa does not typically allot a key role to the lower saptak; understanding this nuance, Ustaadji spends less time in that lower register than he did in Bilaskhani Todi, but rather constantly relates it to the swinging dhaivat (dha) and rishabh around the shadja (sa). Each avartan ends with a light and sparing touch on that shadja, which is a key characteristic of Marwa that Ustaadji explores.
The relative ‘size’ of these two ragas is significant. In Hindustani classical music, a phrase-based raga like Bilaskhani Todi typically limits how much unique and interesting development can be done, while the developmentally-based Marwa allows for plenty of exploration. In both cases, Ustaadji leaves the listener with a feeling of completion: he has fully fleshed out the raga without leaving any jaga (‘room,’ but in this context, it translates better as ‘idea’ or ‘phraseology’) untouched.
The recording exemplifies why Khansaheb is seen as a ‘musician’s musician.’ His usage of different techniques (sargam, layakari, taan) is not formulaic. His presentation of these elements of performance dynamically changes as he progresses through the raga; although there are clearly delineated phases of his presentation, they flow smoothly from one into another.
Khansaheb finishes the vilambit khayal and then moves to his famous presentation of a bandish (song, smaller piece) that has been largely popularized by him: ‘guru bina gyān nā pāvē.’ After presenting the words accompanying this bandish, he instantly rips into fast and intricate sargam and taan patterns. Once again, his style is not repetitive of the phrases he took in the vilambit; one after another, he uses the style of merukhand to elaborate these taans.
Merukhand was another concept largely popularized by Khansaheb himself: it uses a mathematical concept of permutations and combinations of note sets in a raga to form complex taan patterns. In an interview, Khansaheb explained that mathematically, there are 5040 different combinations, and out of those, only a select few are truly musical and can be sung. Incorporating his entire vocal range and thought, Khansaheb offers an explosive conclusion to his performance.
Khansaheb served as a skilled guru to disciples like as Pandit Amarnath, Ustadji’s foremost student of Indian Classical music. Panditji’s music artfully depicts the themes and styles of Ustad Amir Khansaheb, but with a different voice quality (somewhat smoother and softer than his teacher) and tone to his music.
Ustad Amir Khan truly respected his art, dedicating his heart and soul to perfecting his abilities. He is a classical performer whom artists study today out of pure fascination and enjoyment for his ideas and creativity within Hindustani classical music.
