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Cultural exchange: the musical traditions of Rajasthan

What can western educators learn from the musical traditions of Rajasthan? Nina-Marie Plapp shares how her experiences in Northern India and work with the musician Shakoor Khan have informed and shaped her teaching practice.
 Playing in a village ceremony
Playing in a village ceremony

Western classical music training is often thought of as the gold standard of music education. It is easy to forget that the classical world and its training methods are but a tiny fraction of the average musician's lived experience around the globe. As a documentary maker, cellist and music teacher, I have been lucky enough to travel multiple times to Rajasthan in Northern India, a state renowned for its very rich folk music tradition. I travelled to many remote desert villages associated with the musical folk tradition and I eventually ended up playing with some of those musicians professionally, as a wedding musician in India. Over time I have become good friends with musicians from one of those tribes, the great Langha family.

I have sat with their grandmothers, milked goats for tea-time, helped sisters collect water from the desert wells and had the pleasure of accompanying these wonderful musicians on stages across Rajasthan. I will describe what these experiences have brought to my teaching as well as share some of the conversations I have had with my good friend and Langha musician, Shakoor Khan. Khan is 34 years old. He is now an internationally recognised musician, and he sings and plays a variety of instruments, notably the algoza, the double flute. The Langha, like the Kalbelia and the Mang, are castes associated with playing and performing music.

Remember you are teaching a language

I went to Rajasthan initially to make a radio documentary. I went alone. Rajasthan is a very traditional part of India, with a strong caste system and very conservative views on women. It was soon clear I had more in common with the musicians than I did with anyone else I met.

The musicians I first came across were the Langhas. They come from an extremely poor, rural village on the outskirts of Jaisalmer, and they are strict Muslims with very little English. They made me feel very safe and comfortable. We could make musical jokes, laugh together and there was an understanding that came from being a fellow musician and speaking the same musical language – a clear and simple camaraderie.

Never underestimate the power of giving someone the power to communicate with others. Now in my teaching, rather than focusing on solo playing, from the very beginning, I prioritise tools of communication – listening, body language and accompanying. Remember that you are teaching a language. You are teaching someone how to communicate and that has to be at the absolute crux of everything they learn.

Preach what you practise

Khan shared with me his thoughts on being a musician. ‘I am very happy that I have been given one of the magic things of this earth. There are four magic things created by god. First is the magic of beauty. Second is good fortune, third is money and fourth, and most important, is music. I feel very lucky to have been born into this tradition.

‘Music is priceless – it is the same as the ocean. It's more loving than studying and education in school,’ he continues. ‘My father, uncle, brother and cousins are all very proud of me. I also sing and this also this gets me a lot of respect in society, and I get a lot of respect from the higher castes.’

If you are reading this, the chances are you are a musician yourself. You personally know the intrinsic value of music, as you have made it your life's work. How often do you truly convey this to your students? How often to do you reflect on this before you teach?

Encourage musicians to value their art and craft

All the folk musicians I met see music as both a sacred art and a practical craft, important to their livelihood. Most of the musicians are from desert villages with harsh climates and no easy access to basics such as water, health care or essential infrastructure. In many cases when children learn music, there are no alternative skills or professions to survive with or ways to help their community. In some villages there is only one harvest a year.

The Langhas have made their living as musical genealogists for their patrons, the Sindhis, a higher and more wealthy caste living nearby. They literally sing family trees from memory. Singing the life stories of their patrons' forefathers is a very honoured skill. They encapsulate entire bloodlines in folk songs that continue to expand with the coming generations. In return, the Sindhi provide supplies for the musicians and their villages.

It's worth encouraging your students to think of music as an adaptable craft and an imperative profession all around the world. A sense of necessity and relevance facilitates learning.

Understand your instrument

So many of my younger students regularly ask me about what different parts of their instruments are for. Before, questions like this would be shrugged off in favour of getting down to playing. Now I see these as fundamental questions which will create more connection and respect for their instruments. Students should have a detailed knowledge of the inner workings of their instrument and how it is made, right off the bat.

Rajasthan shares borders with Pakistan and many of the folk musicians are Muslims. When the subcontinent was divided in 1947, Partition affected the musicians directly. ‘Many instrument makers are now in Pakistan, they are on the other side of the border, and it is not good,’ says Khan. ‘Many good instrument makers are now in Pakistan but many of the musicians are here in India. It is not a good separation. Their instruments are very good, but we do not have easy access to them.’

The musicians feel very deeply about this part of their history. Many of the skilled makers and musicians are separated by the border and the consequences of their separation have created a profound loss in the community. Traditionally the makers and players are connected and they have a deep reverence for each other.

Find the joy in repetition

‘The children know all the songs; they are just brought up with them all the time. Like the green lemon and lime song. They hear it and sing it over and over again,’ says Khan.

I sat in Jodhpur with Khan learning wedding songs. He did not show me a few times and move on. He sat with me, and we played the tunes over and over again until I was embarrassed I hadn’t got it. Yet he showed no sign of frustration, he sat back and played and enjoyed the process of repetition until I had the melody ingrained. Teachers often say they are having to go over old ground constantly and how frustrated they are. Accept the inevitability of repetition. Find the joy in it so that neither student nor teacher are frustrated.

Repetition is an essential way to internalise music and a joyous and playful act. It is important to teach students how to practise, enjoy and feel comfortable in that constant repetition.

See teaching as a parental responsibility

‘I was eight when I began playing. I learnt from my father, and my grandfather taught my father. One generation, two generations: we teach down the generations. We pass it on, and we love teaching the next generation,’ says Khan. ‘There is no school to learn folk music, it is passed down from grandfather to father to son and it is taught in their homes when the elders do rituals in their homes, then children learn by sitting nearby.’

While we don’t have the same paternal tradition, taking on the role of a musical parent or mentor is imperative. Teaching music is an incredibly personal gesture, and in that way it is like teaching a spiritual practice. There is no room for callous teaching. We must come at it from a place of love and gentle nurturing.

Watch and learn

‘I went to my family community, I played all day, morning time, lunch time, dinner time but afterwards I kept asking “what is this song? what is that song?”. I listened but after a lot of time watching and listening, I began playing and slowly, slowly I began making music,’ says Khan. ‘Before picking up any instruments the children go with us to weddings and ceremonies and they listen and look and they do this many, many times. They listen and slowly, slowly they try their instruments.’ We are so obsessed with the notes of the page that we can forget that students need to learn from watching and listening. Short demonstrations of technique are not enough. Our pupils need to experience proper performances. Wholeheartedly playing to a student will teach them more than anything you can say with words. All folk musicians know this.

Express emotion

Without emotion, sound is just noise. Music-making is a tool to express and process emotion. Nowhere else have I heard such spiritually uplifting and emotionally charged music. When the Langhas are not playing for their patrons, music is part of the emotional and ritualistic life of the community. They play at weddings, funerals, births, for the seasons, for spiritual ceremonies and in their homes. They use it to express and process joy and also some of the harsher realities of their existence.

‘There are many sad songs. This is the one I was just playing about a young girl, who says “Oh my father, why are you making my marriage at such a young age?” She talks about the memories she has with her brother, she is complaining that she is getting married in a few days. She is complaining that she doesn’t want to get married at such a young age, it's a song about child brides,’ says Khan. This is a kind of painful song for the girls and when the bride goes away with the groom, that's the perfect time for this song.’

While I hope none of my students have to deal with child marriage, it is true that almost all childhoods are full of very strong emotions, and many children will be dealing with all kinds of life challenges. If students' emotions can be channelled into music-making from the very beginning, we may create greater musicians and emotionally healthier human beings.