This is quite a good album–a recording of Anoushka Shankar’s opening set at Carnegie Hall in 2001, before her father Ravi Shankar took the stage. Worst part first: the packaging and liner notes were a bit bland, mostly ‘biographical praise’. Though it would be nice, I’m not asking for a Radiohead-style 48-page avant-garde visual spread; but at least tell me about the music itself. However, the bio does come in handy for those awkward conversations I seem to end up in:
Friend: [wincing] So… ah… what are we listening to?
Me: Oh, this is Anoushka Shankar. One time I saw her and Ravi Shankar play at Emory University–one of the most incredible concerts I’ve seen. The sitarist, the tabla duels, and the audience was so into it. Those guys were totally raga-ing out.
Friend: [noncommittal] Oh…
Me: [defensive] Well… She’s the youngest and only female to ever receive the House of Commons Shield from the British Parliament. And she’s cute.
So back to the music. Though I enjoy this album, one of the things I realized is that I have almost no emotional connection with Indian music, at least the traditional, classical forms. I can understand and respond to the musical basics of tempo and rhythm. But venturing beyond that into the melody and the harmonic background, I have no ear. It’s an odd feeling. For example, on the opening strains of the tabla duet, I can’t tell if the sitar is peaceful, plaintive, wistful, melancholy, or what. The cues are probably there, I just don’t know enough to pick up on subtlety.
With that said, the tunes are catchy, and the performance is solid though it doesn’t seem passionate. At least it will keep my ears open and stretch my appreciation a bit.
Mark Larson 