INTIMATE ENCOUNTERS WITH MUSIC: THE NORTH INDIAN BAITHAK Interaction between musicians and their audiences is an essential constituent of any successful Indian classical music performance. Musicians often mention how important audiences responses are to them during the the process of performing, where this rapport helps direct their elaboration of a specific raga or musical mode. Audiences express their responses to the music they hear through gestures as well as audible exclamations such as “vah vah!”, “kya baat hay!”, and “subhan allah”, which are equivalent to the expressions”well done!”, or “beautiful!”. These exclamations are made within the performance itself, directly following any particularly pleasing, innovative or proficient passage of music. Not only these responses make the musician feel that their music is being appreciated, they also allow the musician to gauge the audience’s musical sophistication as well as identify particularly knowledgeable listeners. The specific type of performance setting that allows this intimate interaction between musicians and their audiences in North India is called a baithak. The word baithak implies a small gathering where everyone is seated in an Indian fashion, on the floor. A baithak can be a gathering assembled to hear a religious or philosophical discourse or, in our case, a sort of musical discourse, an elaboration of music through a performance. The word baithak can also refer to the specific architectural spaces where these gatherings take place, be it a specific room laid out with carpets and cushions, or a kiosk where outdoor performances are held. Paintings depicting musical performances are some of the most important sources for reconstructing the history of baithaks. The practice of intensely listening to a performance for its musical rather than its religious value probably began in the courts of Sultan rulers during the very period after the twelfth century. During that period, poet musicians such as Amir Khusro were developing the instruments and musical forms that constitute what we now call Hindustani classical music. It was not until the sixteenth century rule of the Mughal emperor Akbar that miniature paintings include depiction of musical gatherings at court. Akbar’s capital of Fatehpur Sikri includes a red sandstone platform set in the middle of a pool where we might...

INDIAN CLASSICAL MUSIC: A BRIEF INTRODUCTION FOR THE OUTSIDER The Mythological Preamble: The theory propounded by Pythagoras about the harmonious sounds that the spheres make when they move in the heavens finds an echo in Indian musicological theory which offers that music is of two kinds: Anahat and Aahat. The former is loosely translated as ‘unstruck sound’ or sound that does not have an origin while the latter refers to sound that is ‘struck’. Anahat naad is that music which causes vibrations in aakash (ether) while aahat is the result of vibrations in the air. And who can enjoy music in the ether? Simple, say the Hindu scriptures. All those who are siddha -purushas (evolved souls) can attune themselves to the music in the ether while ordinary mortals enjoy music only as we know it. Again there is an unusual explanation of the origin of musical sound in India. According to a popular Hindu myth, Shiva, the third God in the Hindu Trinity, created the cosmos while in the throes of creativity. His forte being dance, the dance of creation led to the creation of all matter. But surely Shiva needed some musical accompaniment to dance to? Indeed he did and the instrument he holds in his right hand is the damru, the little drum which he played while kicking a speck of celestial dust, creating the sun over here, the milky way over there. The damru it was then that spewed forth the magical ‘swaras’ (notes) that make up the Indian octave: Sa, Re, Ga, Ma, Pa, Dha, Ni and Sa. It is significant to note that Indian mythology tells us that music emanated first from a percussion instrument while, across the oceans, Greek mythology explains the origin of musical sound as a result of the infatuation that Pan harboured for a nymph, Syrinx. Tired of his amorous advances she runs away while he gamely chases her. On reaching the edge of a lake she prays to the spirits in the water to help her; The spirits heed her prayer and transform her into a reed which is planted in the shallow waters of the pond. Pan, with the help of his supernatural...