If you could share something about his legendary performances at the various music conferences in Kolkata.
SL: So, at that time, there were a number of music conferences which were held in Kolkata. The main venue was Mahajati Sadan. Indira was one venue as well. The Tansen Music Conference used to be held at Indira. The Sadarang Music Conference used to be held at Mahajati Sadan, as was Surdas and the North Calcutta Music Festival.
Not at Rabindra Sadan?
SL: No. Rabindra Sadan hadn’t been constructed yet. It was built later. During those days, loudspeakers were set up outside the venues as well. People used to sit outside and listen to the music. All the stalwarts of music used to perform. Bade Gulam Ali Khan used to perform. My father was there, of course, as were other great musicians of India. Naturally, everyone couldn’t get hold of tickets. So they set up loudspeakers outside. Later, this stopped because of problems of transport. At night there could be extra buses.
Pt. Nikhil Banerjee was scheduled to play Shyam Kalyan at a programme, the announcements had been made, but he was yet to fix the strings. The string was to go along the bridge could not be fixed. This was because his eyesight had deteriorated so much and he had just recovered from his stroke. I can vaguely remember the date to be possibly 1981. We were sauntering around, but were not allowed inside. Rabindra Sadan has two greenrooms; one of them is visible from the Car Park but only if the windows are open.
On a previous occasion, Ravi Shankarji had almost taken a class before a programme, flanked by Anindo Chatterjee on one side and Dipak Chowdhury on the other. We were privy to everything from what he would play to how he would come on to the stage, thanks to Rabin pal, Ravi Shankarji’s organizer. He had kept a window open just a little bit and had told Partha Majumdar, a friend of ours, ‘Stand here and you’ll get to hear everything.’ Partha had taken me there. We two had stood there and seen a lot of how he demonstrated the Taalas.
On this occasion, we had used a similar opening to stand outside pt. Nikhil Banerjee’s greenroom. Ravishankarji was more conscious about these things, Pt. Nikhil Banerjee more oblivious. So through the open window I could see him having difficulties in fixing the string. Anindo Chatterjee asked him, “Kakababu (he used to call him that), can I have a look at that?” He said, “ No, not at all. I will do it my own.” Hiren Roy’s son, Amit Roy, or Bachchu as he was called, tried to lend a helping hand, but was allowed very little. He fixed the string till making the last kink at the end, allowing him only to fix the last gauge of the string with the left hand tuning pegs. Then he told Amit, referring to Hiren Roy, “Your father has not done the Jawari well this time.” which had been done the previous day.
Nikhilbabu preferred a jawari that was neither too open nor too closed, something in between. This produced an outstanding sound, and when he performed Taans, there was a singular sound and you could hear just what was being played. I’ll take no names, but there are many taanbaaz Sitarists, who perform Taans at a blazing speed, at 8-times, sixteen-times or twenty-times even, but then the other strings start to respond and there is too much noise. This I had never heard from Pt. Nikhil Banerjee.
After the 80s, he became a bit slow, owing to ill health, but came to terms with that. He had mentioned this to some persons somewhere, while praising Ustad Vilayat Khan Sahab, of whom he was a great admirer. While listening to a Taan by Ustad Vilayat Khan Sahab, he lamented, “ Ah, I could have done such taans at a time, but my health has stopped me. I cannot perform them anymore. He had acquiesced not to perform taans beyond a certain Laya himself.
But the greatest thing about him was the sense inherent in his head. He used to travel alone, without any accompanist. I have heard it from people who used to plan his programmes abroad, from many other people including Tejen, that he was scheduled to play, say, at two programmes in Amsterdam with Zakir Hussain, one at London with Swapan Chaudhuri five at sundry locations with Anindo Chatterjee. But they were not travelling together, he travelled alone, and this with a high optical power, resulting from myopia and the surgery on the eye which was affected by the second or third stroke. I do not know how he did it, but he did so religiously.
Pt. Anindo Chatterjee
Maybe it was Anindo Chatterjee who reminisced about the time when they were to play in a programme at Paris. They were very particular about the time, about the exact duration of the programme. Ten minutes before the programme, the strings had not been fixed, they kept breaking off repeatedly. But Pt. Nikhil Banerjee was adamant about doing it himself. And after that, he was to play Shyam Kalyan on PanchamSawaritaala, which ran to an hour and a half. But he never compromised about the time, that is to say, if he played Alaap for one hour here, he would do so for an hour abroad also. He was not concerned about what the audience was willing to accept or not, he would endeavour to elevate the audience to his level. This is one instance I remember among many.
Let me tell you about another experience. Nikhil babu played Kaushik Bahiron at the Uttarpara Sangeet Sammelan in the late seventies, 1977 or 1978. Me and two or three of my friends were sitting in the empty pandal, all the people had left, well after seven in the morning. The reason being, even after the playing had stopped, and the audience had left, the effect of the music lingered on. I can quote many such experiences from my memory if you wish.
In 1975, there was a programme in remembrance of Begum Akhtar in Rabindra Sadan. Nikhil Banerjee and Vismadeb Chattopadhyay were to perform consecutively. People were a bit baffled to hear that an instrument would be played before the vocal. But later I heard that Nikhil Banerjee himself requested it, as Vismadeb was a very senior musician and he should complete the programme. As it was a tribute to Begum Akhtar, Nikhil Banerjee played raga Patdeep. I remembered two things clearly, one was that it took fifty-two or fifty- three minutes to complete the raga with alaap, jod and jhala and it was bewitching. It was like hypnotism and I remined fixed through the performance with my legs one upon another. Afterwards I couldn’t move my legs but the heavenly tune was still there after the music was over. At that time Rabindra Sadan had one of the best aquistics and his sitar had the best tone and quality. Apart from the technical brilliance the performance was superb. The loftiness or transcendence through music was quite rare. I experienced it four times, I think. Once with Ali Akbar Khan’s Darbari Kanara made this magic. But, this performance in 1978 or 79 it was unique. It was so uplifting one can not express it in words. We use the term transfiguration in literature but transcendence is the best word to express it.
pt swapan chaudhuri
Afterwards I went out for a stroll to relieve the cramp on my legs and also to move away from the performance of Swapan Choudhury who started the tabla with gusto. With full respect to him, he should think about the atmosphere created by the earlier performance and chose his piece well. Anyway, I suddenly spotted a person crying helplessly outside. I thought of some misfortune must had befallen him. But he was also inside and experienced the music which had shaken our soul. Nikhil Banerjee had taken the experience of music to another level and no one could come close to that. This was one of my unique experiences.
Translation by: Rajeswary Ganguly Banerjee
Data processed at SAP-DRS Lab, Department of Instrumental Music, Rabindra Bharati University.
He was very young at that time- maybe 25 or 26 years old. He used to live at Dhumdhumar at Dhaka, where he used to work at the Radio also. At that time, the Chief Producer was Suresh Chandra Chakraborty, whose son later became the editor for Ananda Bazar Patrika. Suresh Babu had become a very important figure in the career of my father. He had helped my father with a lot of things including taking him to venues, organizing events for him, etc. It happened once that a person belittled my father’s Laykari and said that it was not a big deal to perform.
So he asked the audience to pick up their hands one by one in any random matra and he would take tehai, instantly from that specific matra. I still am getting Goosebumps thinking about that.
Pt. Chinmoy Lahiri
Everyone was ready to entrap him, and was raising their hands now and then and father kept on doing the Tehai accordingly. So this raged on like a storm for a long time. At that time, in our Khayal and also Bangladeshi Khayal, there was a mid part, right after the Bistar, it was rarely to be found on that time, there was bolbani in Dhrupadi style. I remember him doing it with Bol Bani (words), which together comprised of the Laykari. This too comprised of a number of Tehai and a number of improvisation Laykari in derhigun,dwigun, and chow gun. He attempted several of these Laykari and used to reach at the ‘Shom’ in an incredible way. This whole procedure was a unique one. You can’t imagine, I can still see it in front of my eyes while talking about it. He would do it with such ease. Players who were not accustomed with playing with him never got a chance in these times. So this was his style of singing. And later in life, he himself started to change and alter his style. During this time, people used to say that he acquired this style from Dilip Chandra Bedi. I have never met Dilip Chandra Bedi, though I have listened to his records and seen him at places. I remembered that he too did a variety of Palta. My father also worked with Palta and he also did a lot of Taana too. For example, he did the Gadda Ghashit Taana, Tehara Sapat,ChoukhaSapat, etc. All these experiments and innovations that father used to do were his brain child.
Note: Pt. Chinmoy Lahiri was born in 1916. His son pt. Shyamal Lahiri is telling about the incidents when Chinmoy Lahiri was 25 or 26 years old. So the year should be around 1941-42. – Editor
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60/2/7 Kabi Bharati Sarani, Lake Road. Kolkata- 700029
About the speaker
Swapna Mukherji is a well-known Sitar Player. She is the daughter as well as a disciple of Sri Amiya Bhushan Chattopadhyay [disciple of Pt. Lakshman Bhattacharya]. She was a graded Staff artist of All India Radio, served both in Raipur and Calcutta Station of All India Radio.
My father, Amiyabhushan Chattopadhyay, was one of Lakshmanda’s, that is, Lakshman Bhattacharya’s favourite students. I remember the names of a few others because they used to visit my father. For instance, there was Sukumar Basu. There was someone called Aparesh Chattrjee – I had only heard of him, never seen him. There was someone called Badal Das who could play the sitar and the sarod. He was born in 1921 and passed away in 2012.
Shri Lakshman Bhattacharya
Lakshman da was an incredible artist. He was very moody and somewhat apathetic towards worldly interests. He was dead against self-publicity and avoided it at all costs. He had a tendency of disappearing, so his students would take turns to make sure that he stayed put.
In those days, programmes on the radio used to be broadcast live. My father used to keep an eye on him. Our house was very close to the Akashbani Bhavan. My father would bring him to our house and make him stay there. He would get angry and say, “Why are you following me like this? Don’t keep me under surveillance!” Father would change the subject and say, “We are so fortunate to ahve found a guru like you. The more time we can spend with you, the better it is for us.” And he would make him perform for the radio.
It had happened a few times that Lakkhan da had a programme, but he was nowhere to be found. This happened a few times during the Chetla conference. These are all stories I’ve heard from father. They’d find him at the crematorium. He used to go and sit there. He seemed indifferent about the world. Maybe he liked it att he creamatorium, that’s why he sat there. He was extremely genial and pleasant. He called my grandmother ‘mother’, and referred to my mother as ‘bouma’ or daughter-in-law. He had a tender disposition. I’ve never heard from father anything about his rage. He was like this, but he was also very, very moody. The students would take turns to keep an eye on him.
Anyway, such measures did not prove preventive in the end. He passed away when he was just 39. He was unmarried. He was at his brother’s house in Shyambazar. I don’t know the exact address. He passed away in that house. His nephew came to our house, dressed in mourning. My father was the first person he informed. Father was shocked when he saw him and asked, “What has happened?” Then he said, “Uncle passed away. He had fever for a couple of days!” He paased away at a very young age. I wonder what would have happened had he lived. He had attained such fame at such an young age that even now his name is heard in certain corners. For instance, you have come to ask me about him!
Translated by: Sarbajaya Bhattacharya
Picture Courtesy:
Smt. Swapna Mukherji, Renowned Sitarist and graded Staff artist of AIR
Note: Shri Amiya Bhushan Chattopadhyay is the father of Smt. Swapna Mukherji – Editor
Edited & Designed: Dr. Suranjita Paul
Data processed at SAP-DRS Lab, Department of Instrumental Music, Rabindra Bharati University
60/2/7 Kabi Bharati Sarani, Lake Road. Kolkata- 700029
About the speaker
Swapna Mukherji is a well-known Sitar Player. She is the daughter as well as a disciple of Sri Amiya Bhushan Chattopadhyay [disciple of Pt. Lakshman Bhattacharya]. She was a graded Staff artist of All India Radio, served both in Raipur and Calcutta Station of All India Radio.
Pandit Abhijit Banerjee is a renowned Tabla player of Kolkata. He is a prime disciple of Pandit Jnan Prakash Ghosh. He has also learn Vocal from Pandit Ajay Chakraborty
Tags
1982, Chitresh Das, Sur Chhandam, Solo performance, Jnan Prakash Ghosh, Buddhadev Dasgupta, Kumar Mukherjee, Jodhpur Park, Nikhil Banerjee, Ravi Shankar, Amlan Dasgupta, Hiren Roy, Bacchuda, All India Radio, Indira di, Programme, Organiser, Sitar, Jhaptala, Rupak, Teen Tala, Accompany , Riyaz, Subrata Roy Chowdhury, Sitar player
There was an organisation called ‘Surchhandam’ and famous dancer Sri Chitresh Das and his friends were associated in this organisation. The year was 1982. Chitreshda and his friends knew me and they gave me an opportunity to play a solo there. This was my first major solo after I started learning from my Guruji Jnanprakash Ghosh and where personalities like Budhhadeb Dasgupta, Kumar Mukherjee were present.
Where was this place?
It was in Jodhpur Park. There was a person named Kalyanbabu and his house was the venue. Then it was a very popular programme.‘Surchhandam’ was the organiser and they did a big programme annually where Pt. Ravishankarji, Pt Nikhil Banerjee used to perform. We didn’t get a chance to perform at the annual programme but I heard Pt. Nikhil Banerjee there. I was telling you about my introduction to Nikhil Banerjee. The only reason I am narrating this is to show how great, how honest persons these people were. So, I had played this solo. Amlan Dasgupta, one of my professors, I mean who I was later acquainted with as a professor when I was studying English, had come to the performance. He was a great fan of table. He was accompanied by Bachhuda, the son of Hiren Roy, Sitar maker. This man, Bachhuda, was a student of Pt. Nikhil Banerjee and he told Pt. Nikhil Banerjee “I know a boy (me) who plays tabla well”.
I was not aware of all these, I had performed, and I still remember had got paid 100 rupees for it. I think my mother has still preserved that 100 rupees, this was the first time I received a payment for playing tabla. Except for All India Radio where Indiradi used to pay 5 rupees as a child artist. I got this money at an important juncture of my life, as my father was not in a financially good position. We had been financially quite well-off before, but at that moment father was without a job. That 100 rupees was a considerable sum for me and I asked my mother to use it to meet expenses. However, father told mother that it was a blessing and this small amount would not be of much good to serve the interests of the family. So, he told my mother to preserve it well.
Anyway, I went to college, after I met Amlan Dasgupta in the programme, the year was 1982. I was reading +12 in college and Bachhuda told Pt. Nikhil Banerjee about me. The next day I returned from college in the evening and my mother informed me that Nikhil Banerjee had called. I nonchalantly asked who Nikhil Banerjee?
Pt. Nikhil Banerjee
Mother answered the sitar maestro Nikhil Banerjee. I was quite confident that it was not that Nikhil Banerjee, you heard it wrong, I told my mother. But she told me no, he gave me this number and asked you to call him. I told her ok, and after some supper I called on this given number.There was no mobile phone then. I forgot the number, 464 or something, a six or seven-digit number. I lived in Howrah then, and I dialled the phone. He picked up the phone himself, I did not recognise his voice, I told him that I want to talk to Nikhil Banerjee. I was quite sure that it was some other Nikhil Banerjee, perhaps some organiser who can give me some programme.
But instead, he said, ‘Yes, I am Nikhil Banerjee speaking, and I heard you play table well. Do you read in college?’ I answered that yes, I was reading in college. I was still so naïve, I could not understand. So he told me simply that ‘I play a little bit of Sitar, would you play with me? Come in the morning, we could rehearse from 9 to 11 then you can attend the college. You can come earlier if you want to, but remember you must continue your study, must attend college regularly.’ It was still unbelievable, I stuttered, ‘Yes yes, I mean’. He again confirmed that he played a little bit of sitar. The truth sank in, I started shaking all over, this was the legend Nikhil Banerjee, so easy-going, so conversational.
Anyway, I went to his residence next morning. I was hearing the sitar while entering, it was unbelievable. I am telling you that it was a prime experience of my life, the long years that I had spent with him, it was priceless. He was playing his instrument on the second floor of the house but the whole house was humming with the beautiful sound. It was one of the best sitar of India. Iwas listening to it while entering, it was mesmerising. This first encounter with the maestro was so awe-inspiring to me, I cannot express fully in words. My eyes always moisten while recounting this experience. He was a very reserved person, not much friends were there.I went to the second floor, he practised with me. I can remember, he played three talas Jha?pta?la, Rupak and lastly Tinta?la.
Then he remembered and asked me to go immediately, ‘You shouldn’t ignore your studies, go now, if you have time, come sometimes.’ I was like, ‘I would come every day, if you wish.’ He said, ‘No, you have to study first’. Then he chitchatted about my classes, class timings etc. What I am saying here, the whole story is about the gentle nature of this great man. This top-class person, he telephoned me himself, getting my phone no.and so on. In this age I have never heard a person of his calibre doing such things. I have never asked him about how he had gotten my number. No, wait I asked him about it much later. He got it from Subrata Roychoudhury, who also played Sitar. I used to practise with Subratakaku. He was so interested that he called Subratakaku then he called me. Nowadays everyone does these things through their secretaries. But he telephoned me himself and not only that, he picked up the phone himself when I called him back. It was a unique experience and I think today’s generation would never be part of such experience. Such a grand personality with so meek behaviour is really unique and it was a very important event of my life too.
In the ‘60s, there was a concert at Chhatu babu and Latu babu’s Beadon Street address. Shipra Basu was one of the first performers, and, as far as I recall, Pandit Gobinda Bose was playing the tabla. Father was to perform after that. We had gone later. Bachche Lal Mishra was accompanying him on the sarengi and Sandip Deb on the tabla. Sandip Deb was a young man at that time. He would wear a red vermillion mark on his forehead because he was the disciple of Nanku Maharaj of Benares. He still follows these things, I know. Father came to the dais and began to sing. When we were children, we used to hear that when father performed a taan, everyone would swept off their feet. Now, I had a logical bent of mind. I didn’t believe this story. I always thought, what is so special about taan that the audience will be swept off their feet for it? But, I hadn’t seen anything yet.
Ustad Vishmadev Chattopadhyay
On that day, he was singing the Maalkosh, and he was in a very good mood. I remember that performance very well. He was performing a taan which had many twists and turns, it was rolling upwards, higher and higher, and it sounded like a fishing wheel, and when the music reached a crescendo, all of us in the audience moved forward, drawn as if by some magnetic force, and when the music came crashing down, we were thrown back as well. Then I understood what everyone meant by being swept off their feet. It was literal.
