| The Bansuri Wallah
Steve Gorn
His father is
a concert pianist, and while he himself had a jazz background
playing mostly wind instruments like saxophone, clarinet,
the western flute, what fascinated Steve Gorn initially
was the shehnai. Today he is easily one of the most
gifted Bansuri exponents in the world, blending in a
richness of sound, melody and magic, that transports
his audience into a world resplendent with the essence
and dripping with the nectar of Hindustani classical
music that Lord Krishna made immortal centuries ago.
He has collaborated with many western artists and the
first sounds that you hear on Paul Simon’s highly acclaimed
album” Graceland” are of Steve’s flute.
So saxophone to shehnai, how did that happen?
I think that for me the initial interest in Indian music
was the jazz saxophone players that I was following
like John Coltrane, Yusuf Latif and Charles Lloyd. They
had been listening to the Shehnai music of Bismillah
Khan and that seemed to have had a tremendous effect
on the way they were developing their music, and it
was that quality that caught my attention. So when I
went to India that was the first instrument of choice
for me to learn. I got to India in 1969 and traveled
over land and these were fantastic travel years as I
took the trade route of thousand years ago and actually
waded into India through Iran, Pakistan and Afghanistan.
I went to Banaras and it seemed like a living opera,
teeming with life. I went again after 25 years last
year and though it has changed tremendously, but when
you are down there by the ghats and see people and the
beauty, it remains the same. The richness is in the
humanity, in all its suffering, pain and joy and so
much of the music arises out of that. When I go to India
I feel as if I am tasting the source that this wonderful
music arises from. I don’t think I could play the kind
of music I do otherwise. I knew nothing about India
when I first arrived other than having this Western
notion that somehow that music was connected to jazz
and so I studied Shehnai. The first of many pivotal
experiences happened when I went to a mela in Maihar
and Allauddin Khan Sahib was alive then. We stayed throughout
the 2-3 day festival and heard sitar maestro Nikhil
Bennerjee play Bhairav. And I knew I wanted to sign
up for this musical journey for life.
How did you switch to Bansuri?
It was in Calcutta the following year and then it was
purely by chance that I was introduced to Guru Goswami
a disciple of flute maestro Pannalal Ghosh. He played
something and I responded to his depth. He had a quality
of playing that was so olde world resonating with depth
of feeling, that essence and that was what interested
me more than the virtuosity or technique. It’s an interesting
how these days there seems to be a lot of emphasis on
technique. I started in Banaras with the flute, but
quickly moved to Calcutta and had an important one-year
with him and then came back. Since then I have gone
back to India many times.
As a non-Indian how easy has it been to learn and
how was the response from the Indian audience when you
first played before them?
I have tremendous respect for the tradition of the music
and even today after so many years there are times,
I will be playing something and suddenly I will understand
something about a raga that someone was telling me 10
years ago. There is a never-ending journey of going
deeper into it and one’s musical maturity keeps ripening.
The beauty is a child like quality of beginning over.
I have been so moved by the support I have had from
people in India. When I do something that pleases them,
their way of complimenting me would be to say “I close
my eyes and I didn’t know it was not an Indian playing.”
I did have a review once in Calcutta, which ended in
the socialite segment of the paper talking about this
western flute player attracting gopis. They took a picture
of me my legs crossed like Krishna’s! Playing this music
as a westerner is a very interesting situation. I know
more then anybody that I’m not Indian and that when
I play there is no way I can sound a 100 percent Indian,
because I have so many other musical influences in my
life. I think over the past few years I have really
tried to blend things. I am a curious mix of someone
who grew up in the West with Western sensibilities,
but has a deep connection with this music. My music
may be a little bit different, but I am most pleased
with my playing when what comes out is the effortless
quality instead of my trying to show you what I have
learnt, just sending notes into space that make people
feel a connection to life and the earth.
I do have one complaint though. In India I feel people
have become addicted to music that is too loud. Every
concert I heard in Calcutta was distorted. You could
not hear the sound of the instruments and it’s a disappointing
trend. At the same time you go to someone’s home you
hear the real thing. Here there is a really growing
audience for fine music. Samir Chatterjee, the tabla
maestro, and I organized an all night concert last month
in New York, which was sold out. When Rashid Khan was
singing the early morning raga at 7-8 in the morning
there were still about 450 people there, half Indian
and half American. The idea of a nightlong concert is
so wonderful, but happens so rarely. It’s definitely
a different time and when you hear that olde world music
that takes so long to unfold it takes a lot on the part
of the listener to drop his modern day agenda. I think
a lot of the artists compromise their work, because
they are afraid the listeners will run away. But if
you really want to create the kind of magic then it
has to be done in the traditional way.
It seems like more and more people are showing interest.
I think when the craze for Indian classical music started
in the 60s it was a lot more superficial thing than
it is now. Today there are people who are studying it,
there are more opportunities to see concerts and there
seems to be a real genuine appreciation of this magnificent
music.
--Kavita Chhibber Narula
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