Amplify or Simplify?

I’ve been building up to last weekend’s performances for a long time so it’s a bit of a release now that they’re over. Saturday was a violin concert and Sunday a dance performance as part of the 10th anniversary celebrations of the ISTD South Asian Dance Faculty. The dance show was particularly exciting, as it was held at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, a prestigious venue on the South Bank. Both were celebrations of the successful continuation of ancient art forms.

As we waited to do another run through before the show on Sunday, I spoke to my singing teacher about the lesser popularity of Carnatic music, compared to North Indian Hindustani music. When most people think of Indian music, they think of sitars, or Ravi Shankar, or the santoor – almost inevitably something North Indian. South Indian music is very different and also has a markedly lower level of publicity and practice outside the South Indian diaspora. My teacher said he thought it was because people find it harder to understand – it is more of a strictly defined form with much greater rhythmic complexity also, and often takes a little bit of persverance to appreciate. He also added that unlike the small charismatic few who have spread the popularity of Hindustani music, Carnatic music has never really had any stand out ‘stars’ who are both musically outstanding, as well as skilled communicators. Both must be there for real success.

Backstage some of the dancers in our company had other opinions. ‘It’s too loud’, they said. ‘Everyone plays at once – all the instruments together – it’s too much.’ In some ways I know what they mean. Whereas I can appreciate the enjoyable challenge of something being musically complex, I think that it’s really important to distinguish it from being aurally cluttered.

Perhaps one of the problems is over reliance on amplification. Take an instrument like the veena. It is one of the oldest known intruments still being played. It is also quite quiet when played with no microphone. Whereas once it might’ve been played in a temple amidst a small crowd, accompanied by a single percussionist, now modern technology allows it to be played as part of an orchestra. The same goes for other instruments like the bamboo flute. In the concert on Saturday all were played together for the finale – something that couldn’t have been possible without amplification. I think it’s fine, as long as the sound is balanced, but sometimes I think something is really lost with the adding of too many elements. There’s a real value and beauty in simplicity that is overlooked sometimes in the quest for greater and greater musical effect.

In light of my current project on kirtan, I think it’s really relevant. I find the increasing trend is to amplify everything, whether it needs it or not. A small kirtan of eight people now necessitates the singer and harmonium being miked – sometimes even the mrdanga too. Of course when the instruments are miked, the voice has to be turned up louder to be heard. Then because the voice can be turned up, more drums can be added. Then the voice and instruments are turned up more to be heard above the drums. Soon it all gets a bit ridiculous – people start thinking they can’t even have a kirtan without a microphone and the kirtans just become noisy – both literally as well as aesthetically.

Perhaps there something to be said for the enduring quality of things that are essentially simple. Relying on technology too heavily always becomes risky eventually. Anyway, for now I’m grateful to be taking part in the practice of these spiritual art forms – mikes and all.