washerman's dog: Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Elder and Young Slaves: Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and Ghulam Ali

Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and Ghulam Ali

I once knew a guy in Pakistan. He was an American like me at the time. And I was jealous of his ability to speak Urdu and knowledge of the country. He had grown up there, no doubt, like I had in India but it just didn't seem fair!

Anyway, he had this predilection to always ask people, "Bada ya chota?" (Large or small). If we were ordering a karhdai for lunch and the waiter said they had chicken or meat, this guy would ask, "Bada ghosht ya chota ghost?" Which meant, "cow (large) or goat (small) meat?"

And if someone mentioned he loved the voice of Ghulam Ali he would ask, "Bade Ghulam Ali ya Chote Ghulam Ali?" I used to wince at that, after hearing the question in reference to the lunch menu.

But it did serve its purpose for it introduced me to the fact that there is more than one Ghulam Ali in the world of South Asian music. To that point my only compass point had been the ghazal artiste Ghulam Ali. I had no idea whatsoever that there was another pair of Ghulam Ali's one of whom was Big and the other Small.

Thankfully I have since discovered the wonders of Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, definitely one of the top three classical vocalists to come out of the sub-continent in the past 150 years. His first LP on which he renders two moody ragas, Goonkali and Malkauns, is stupendous and I share it today with you. His melancholy but vigorous renditions meet my own wintry mood just perfectly.

The other collection is the original (for me) Ghulam Ali, master of the popular Ghazal and probably Pakistan's best known export to other parts of South Asia. This collection of ghazals includes some interesting versions of his more popular hits and is a nice complement to the majesty of the Big guy.

Track Listing (Bade)

01 Ae Kartar Poori Karo (Raga Goonkali)

02 Eree Kab Avey Sajan (Raga Malkauns)

here

Track Listing (Chote)

01 Dil Mein Ik Leher Si

02 Kahoon Jo Haal To Kehtay

03 Dil Walo Kya Dekh Rahey Ho

04 Gham Hai Kushi Hai

05 Tere Aane Ka Dhoka

06 Apni Dhun Mein Rehta Hoon

07 Woh Kabhi Mil Jaeen Tau

08 Ya Rub Gham-E-Hijran

09 Pattta Patta Buta Buta

10 Mohabhat Ki Ranginiyan

11 Ghum Nahin Ji Tan Se Nikla

12 Dareecha Be Sada Koi

13 Yeh Dil Hai Pagal Dil Mera

14 Sotay Aur Jaagtay

here

Monday, August 1, 2011

Like Father Like Son: Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and Ustad Munawwar Ali Khan (Fresh Links)

Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and Ustad Munawwar Ali Khan

Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, the inspiration and namesake of Ghulam Ali, like many of India’s great vocalists (Ustad Amir Khan, springs quickly to mind) began life as a sarangiya (sarangi player). The sarangi was born in the mehfils of the courtesans (tawaif) in 19^th century Hindustan. Late Mughal Delhi and the glorious regional centers of Lucknow, Rampur and Banaras were the historical milieu that gave rise to the singing, dancing and cultured courtesan, so often depicted in Indian films like Umrao Jaan and Pakeezah. And the sarangi came into its own.

By the early 20^th century the entire world of music making had changed in India. Cultured patrons such as princes and large zamindars (landowners) were few and far between. The artistic center of gravity had moved from the countryside to the mushrooming colonial cities of Calcutta and Bombay. New audiences demanded new types of music and new modes of delivering them. And what had once been a well accepted stable social system of hereditary musical khandans (families) organised into close-knit groups who perfected and fiercely protected the ilm (knowledge) of their particular gharana (lit. of the home; style, school, family) was turned rather quickly into something a bit less secure.

Part of the change was a major social reconfiguration of instruments and performers. Sarangiyas have always been absolutely critical to the success of a north Indian vocal performance, but in an accompanying role. Now that the courtesan culture had been swept away and replaced by a publicly chaste Victorian ideal sarangi players were looked down upon. While singers and other instrumentalists, including tabla players were eventually able to recreate themselves as respected ‘high art’ performers, sarangiyas remained tainted with the brush of ‘the house of ill repute’.

Obviously, Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and others who aspired to greatness realised their first and perhaps ‘natural’ instrument was not the vehicle to get them to where they wanted to be. In his early years (he was born in that great Punjabi musical markaz of Kasur) he found himself actually accompanying a tawaif on the sarangi in Banaras. But he soon began singing in public and after some time turned his attention to vocalising. It was probably with great relief that he said farewell to the sarangi.

In his lifetime Bade Ghulam Ali became one of the absolute icons of Indian music. His performance at the ‘durbar’ (court) of the Prince of Wales in the early 1920s marked his rise to fame. In subsequent years he travelled all across India and into Afghanistan and to the deep south where, unusually, he was appreciated by the upholders of the Carnatic vocal tradition.

A friendly, happy looking man of huge stature he was not only a great performer but a composer of many cheeza (songs) under the name of Sab Rang. After Partition he was one of the few musicians who though from what had been declared Pakistan remained in India where he died in 1968.

He left behind two sons, Karamat Ali Khan and Munawar Ali Khan, both of whom remained in Pakistan. Munawar Ali Khan, though he accompanied his father wherever he went, was not encouraged by the old man to become a solo performer. Was he jealous of his fame and cautious that his young heir could eclipse him in his dotage? Who knows but after the death of his father Munawar Ali Khan made some recordings which I post tonight with those of his great giant of a father. The singing is absolutely spectacular in both cases and I would hazard the view that Munawar’s pieces, are strong in their own right. He does not need to hide in the shadow of Bade Khan sahib. And listen to that the poorly regarded sarangiya clinging to Munawarji’s voice like white to rice.

So a jugalbandi post facto. Father and son. Patiala gharana at its most supreme.