Kollengode S Venkataraman (written in 2001)
In Indian classical music and dance recitals in the US, we often suffer through long-winded intros, embarrassingly hilarious votes of thanks, and completely out-of-context announcements.
Seasoned artistes, out of politeness, listen to these ritual banalities with stoicism. In an interview to Shruti, a magazine dedicated to performing arts of India., a veteran mrdangam player told the advice his guru gave him decades ago before he sent him on stage for the first time. “As soon as you finish your concert, pack your mrdangam and leave. If you stay, people will come and tell you what a wonderful performance you gave. They will never tell you where you made mistakes. If you keep on listening to this concert after concert, you will even start believing what they say.’
This virus has been in existence in India, in Karnatic and Hindustani music and classical dance recitals for quite some time. In recent years, newer strains of this virus have appeared among NRIs. With each passing concert, more resistant strains are emanating from the podium, and nobody seems to know how to contain them.
I immunise myself from the attack by these viruses, taking advantage of a unique feature in Indian programs. As we all know, among other types of misbehaviors, even jaywalking inside the auditorium during recitals is allowed in Indian programs. So, I enter auditoriums after the introduction and bolt to the exit before the vote of thanks. This helps to ruminate only on the program on my way home without the intrusions of the jarring intros and votes of thanks.
When the programs are for gratis, organizers are unresponsive to discreet suggestions since they believe they are doing listeners a favor by organizing the concerts. Lately, however, tortured by bad programs scheduled because of a de facto quota system, I wonder whether the audience is doing the organization a favour by going to the concert, even if it is free.
People have suffered through votes of thanks in which the thankers tried to display their skills only to fall on their faces – like when they mangle Indian names and terms, not taking the trouble to pronounce them correctly, or when they speak extempore and refer to artists by wrong names. Or when they misidentify the ragas only to be corrected by the artists themselves. Or when the thanker once said so and so, was ably accompanied by a famous violinist, uh… uh… uh…. As he struggled to recall the famous violinist’s name, till mercifully, someone from the audience shouted the name of the famous accompanying artist, the speaker could not recall. Or when a high official thanker praised the accomplished woman dancer using phrases that were Inelegant, to put it charitably, making many in the audience gasp and cringe.
The latest irritant is organisers interjecting midway through the concert to make announcements. Another one is when officials of the organizations thank the organization for the concept. In effect, the organization thanking itself for scheduling the concert.
And conforming to the holy Indian tradition of tardiness, our concerts almost always start late. Once I even heard this comment between two women who came to the concert late on a rare day when the concert started on time: “What to do? I missed the first two pieces since they started the concert on time.”
Don’t you owe something better to ourselves? And don’t we deserve something better? And don’t we also owe something better to the American mainstream? After all, the US sustains us and sees us as highly educated, talented, and resourceful immigrants, and we are pleased.
But shouldn’t we recognize that along with this image come reciprocal obligations on how we should conduct ourselves in public and how we interact with the mainstream as individuals and organizations. END