Flutes Against Climate Change: Steve Gorn’s Set

At long last, we can begin to upload the music from May 19th’s Playing For The Planet concert.

Here is Steve Gorn’s set, with Akshay Navaladi on tabla and me playing tamboura. He began with a lovely Kaunsi Kanada:

Followed by this Bhatiyali dhun:

Finally concluding the concert with a ravishing Bhairavi:

Year 3, Month 6, Day 9: Great God a’Mighty, That’s Moose Turd Pie!

More on the Harappans, this time from the Calcutta Telegraph:

“The link between a weakening monsoon and the fate of the Harappan civilisation should now be considered as settled,” said Ronojoy Adhikari, a physicist with the Institute of Mathematical Sciences, Chennai, a research team member.

“We can now almost rule out every other hypothesis that has ever been proposed for the decline of urbanism in the Harappan heartland,” said Adhikari, who used statistical tools to analyse changing urban patterns in the region from 7000 BC to 500 BC.

Adhikari and his colleagues from Pakistan, Romania, the UK, and the US combined evidence from archaeology, geology, and satellite photos to develop a chronology of landscape changes in the region spanning nearly 10,000 years.

Their analysis shows that the emergence of settlements coincided with a steady weakening of the monsoon that began about 5,000 years ago. The Harappans took advantage of a window in time during which a weakening monsoon encouraged settlements.

“It was a kind of a Goldilocks civilisation,” said Liviu Giosan, a geologist and principal of the study at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in the US. “During periods of heavy rains, the floods were too wild for people to settle near rivers, it was too dangerous.”

As the monsoon rains weakened, a gradual decrease in the intensity of floods stimulated the intensive agriculture and encouraged urbanisation about 4,500 years ago. But the continued decline in monsoon rainfall began to drive people to wetter regions upstream and eastward.

“As rivers became increasingly drier, going east became an escape route,” Giosan told The Telegraph. The archaeological record shows that settlements shifted eastward, but the region did not support crop surpluses that the Harappans had enjoyed in their river valleys.

“They forgot their (Harappan) script, and concentrated on survival,” Giosan said.

Archaeologists believe it might have been during these times of decline that the Harappan civilisation developed one of its great legacies — the double-cropping system with kharif and rabi crop rotations that survives in the subcontinent even today.

Generic…but good! Sent May 30:

While differences outweigh similarities in any comparison of our own industrialised civilisation with that of the ancient Harappans, there is much to be learned from the emerging story of a vibrant urban culture that met its doom in the forces of environmental transformation.

The climate crisis that now threatens us is of our own creation; our rapid and unthinking consumption of fossil fuels has unleashed an essentially instantaneous shift away from the relative climatic calm of the past ten or twelve thousand years, to a new state of increasing extremity, violence and irregularity. One wonders if the Harappan citizens (like so many of us modern humans) assumed that the forces of nature are inherently benign? Did they avoid thinking about their vanishing monsoons until it was too late for their cities to survive?

Will future archeologists similarly speculate on our culture’s fate in the aftermath of a runaway greenhouse effect?

Warren Senders

Year 3, Month 6, Day 8: The Indus Near!

The more things change…

The slow eastward migration of monsoons across the Asian continent initially supported the formation of the Harappan civilization in the Indus valley by allowing production of large agricultural surpluses, then decimated the civilization as water supplies for farming dried up, researchers reported Monday. The results provide the first good explanation for why the Indus valley flourished for two millennia, sprouting large cities and an empire the size of contemporary Egypt and Mesopotamia combined, then dwindled away to small villages and isolated farms.

The Harappan civilization, named after its largest city, Harappa along the upper Indus River, evolved beginning about 5,200 years ago and reached its height between 4,500 and 3,900 years ago, stretching across what is now Pakistan, northwest India and Eastern Afghanistan. An urban society with large cities, a distinctive style of writing and extensive trade that reached as far as Mesopotamia, the society accounted for about 10% of the Earth’s population at its height and rivaled Egypt in its power. Unlike Egypt and Mesopotamia, however, the Harappans did not attempt to develop irrigation to support agriculture. Instead, they relied on the annual monsoons, which allowed the accumulation of large agricultural surpluses — which, in turn, allowed the creation of cities. The civilization was largely forgotten by history until the 1920s, when researchers finally began studying it in depth.

OK, it’s a bit of a stretch, but it felt good to write this. Sent May 29:

The ancient Harappans had it good for a long time. The annual monsoons provided ample water for their crops, ensuring food enough to sustain their civilization for well over a millennium. What did the Harappan people think when the seasonal rains began to get irregular? Were priests lavishly paid to perform elaborate incantations in the hopes of restoring the no-longer-idyllic climate? Did traveling storytellers tell their listeners that everything would be just fine, that the monsoons had always been undependable? Was there a bitterly polarized political standoff between those who recognized that things were changing and those who steadfastly refused to accept the facts?

Of course, their culture was regional, not global — and their demise was not self-triggered through profligate consumption of fossil fuels. But future anthropologists will surely puzzle over industrial civilization’s apathetic and uncomprehending response to global climate change. Are we all Harappans today?

Warren Senders

V. R. Athavale

V.R. Athavale – born December 20, 1918. A khyaliya of Agra gharana, he learned with Pt. V.N. Patwardhan and Ustad Vilayat Hussein Khan, and was known as a teacher and author (a biography of Pt. Vishnu Digambar Paluskar). These recordings are from an All India Radio broadcast.

Raga Dhanashri

Raga Lalit Pancham

Raga Bhupali Todi



Raga Bahaduri Todi

Raga Lachari Todi

Raga Hussaini Todi

Raga Samant Sarang

Pune Concert, August 20, 2011

This concert was arranged by Chaitanya Kunte, the extraordinary musicologist, composer and harmonium virtuoso.

It was a pleasant and unusual experience to have two melodic accompanists — Chaitanyaji on harmonium and Eeshan Devasthali (my Guruji’s grandson) on violin. Milind Pote provided the rock-solid and very sympathetic tabla sangat.

Ragas:

Shyam Kalyan
Puriya Dhanashri
Tilak Kamod
Kafi
Bhairavi

Here’s the concert, embedded as a single playlist:

Nasik Concert, August 19, 2011

Finally getting around to uploading and embedding the concerts from last summer’s trip to India. Here is the concert from Nasik embedded as a single playlist, leading off with Puriya Kalyan, and including Mian ki Malhar, Kafi tappa, Tilak Kamod, Khamaj, Pahadi and Bhairavi.

I greatly enjoyed this evening. Nitin Ware’s accompaniment was extremely solid, and Dyaneshwar Sonawane gave very supportive sangat on harmonium.

Note the cascade of inaccuracies in the news clipping. I began studying khyal in 1977, went to India first in 1985. I never studied with Nana Joshi, who was my Guru’s first teacher. Etc., etc., etc.

I’m grateful to Asmita Sevekare and her father for arranging this program. With luck I’ll go back there again next year.

This review is remarkable for its near-complete inaccuracy!

Year 3, Month 3, Day 8: First There Is A Mountain, Then There Is No Mountain, Then There Is

The Oshkosh Northwestern (WI) runs an AP story on the likelihood of glacial-melt floods in the Himalayas:

TATOPANI, Nepal (WTW) — Before Apa became a legendary Sherpa mountaineer, he was a humble Himalayan potato farmer who worked his fields in the Everest foothills until, without warning, raging floodwaters swallowed his farm.

The flash flood — unleashed when a mountain lake fed by melting glacier waters burst its banks — destroyed homes, bridges and a hydroelectric plant. Apa scrambled up a hill, but at least five neighbors were swept away.

Twenty-six years later, after scaling the world’s highest mountain a record 21 times, Apa is on a quest to draw attention to the danger of more devastating floods as glacial melt caused by climate change fills mountain lakes to the bursting point.

The 51-year-old Apa, who like most Sherpas uses only one name, is trekking the length of Nepal to warn villagers to prepare themselves for change. A third of the way along his 120-day journey, he has already seen many lakes that look ready to spill.

“If it happens again, many villages would be washed away and lives lost,” he said during a break in his trek in Tatopani, a resort village near the Tibet border.

Chances are, it will happen again.

There are now thousands of such lakes transforming Himalayan foothills and waterways into extreme danger zones for some of the millions of people in seven countries abutting the massive mountain range.

I smell an analogy. Sent March 3:

As Himalayan glacial ice melts, Nepal’s mountain lakes are filling up faster than they can drain, making catastrophic flooding a certainty, and forcing the villagers living below to confront the dangerous reality of climate change every day. The choice they face is a devastating one: stay — and continue an imperiled existence, or go — and abandon their ancestral lands for an uprooted and uncertain future? It only adds to the irony that they have contributed absolutely nothing to the planetary accumulation of greenhouse gases that now threatens their lives and livelihoods.

But the Sherpas, unlike most citizens of the industrialized world, are acutely aware of their precarious position. Ultimately, of course, their plight is humanity’s dilemma in microcosm; all of us are confronting a danger far graver than any our species has faced in all recorded history. Whether it’s floods, storms, fires or droughts, the consequences of the burgeoning greenhouse effect are a Damoclean sword hanging over all our heads.

Warren Senders

27 Feb 2012, 3:20pm
India Indian music music:
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  • 78 rpm Records of Indian Music: Ravi Shankar Needs No Introduction

    Raga Hemant

    “Bengali Kirtan”

    I will be posting more 78s in the next couple of days.

    Strings Against Climate Change: Durga Krishnan’s Set

    I am finally getting it together to post the videos from last fall’s Climate Concert. The sound from the video camera was cruddy, so I had to replace it with the recording from my digital recorder. This took more time than I had anticipated — no excuse, of course, but an explanation, anyway.

    Here’s Durga Krishnan’s wonderful set, with Gaurishankar Chandrashekhar on mridangam.

    Mahaganapathim Manasa Smarami – Raga – Nattai – Tala – Chathusra Ekam, Composer – Muthuswami Dikshitar

    Steve Elman reviewed the concert in ArtsFuse, and wrote this:

    Durga Krishnan’s performance was a rich and satisfying introduction to the veena, perfectly assembled and marvelously executed. Her improvisations were structured as beautifully as Sonny Rollins saxophone solos, with motifs introduced casually, then brought back over and over for cumulative effect. And Gaurishankar Chandrashekar’s mrindangam solo showed off some very impressive chops.
    Link

    Needu Charanamule – Raga Simhendra Madhyamam, Tala – Misra Chapu, Composer – St. Thyagaraja

    The Boston Globe’s Andrew Gilbert interviewed Durga before the concert and included her thoughts in his article:

    Durga Krishnan, another tireless educator who has collaborated widely with jazz musicians, is also committed to working across genres. Performing in a duo with Gaurishankar Chandrashekhar, an expert on mridangam (a two-headed drum), she’s presenting a set of heavily improvised Carnatic music on the veena, a plucked lute that plays an essential role in the classical South Indian tradition. Eager to participate in Playing for the Planet, she feels that environmental consciousness is inextricably linked to her music.

    “I belong to the Hindu religion where we worship the five elements of nature as god,’’ Krishnan says. “One of the pieces we’ll be performing is from a group of compositions that are prayers to these five elements. There’s a deep connection between the kind of music that I perform and nature. It’s very important to do whatever we can.’’

    Link

    Raghuvamsasudha – Raga – Kathanakuthuhalam, Tala – Adi, Composer – Patnam Subramanya Iyer.