Linda: Back to School, Feb. 22

Back to School!

So … after many, many years, I am back in school. Yes, I have taken many courses over the past 30 years (at least 25), but they were all related to my profession, to my area of strength and expertise. Here, it’s new territory.
Now, however, there is the wonderful freedom of age. I have nothing to “prove”, nothing to become. I am here for the sheer joy of learning, for the insights it will bring, for the horizons it will expand, for the joy of learning with someone who loves what they are doing.
The Center here in Kerela is unusual for India. It is the outcome of the love for the India and her culture by a French woman, Laaba, who has made India her home and her heart. The center has been organizing courses for over 32 years. Typically, courses in art, music, dance, theater, etc. are given from master to student over many years with students live with other students in the company of the teacher/teachers. This was not a possibility for us. The Vjnana Kala Vedi Cultural Center (www.vjnanakalavedi.org) is organized so that one can study a given subject, individually, with an expert Indian teacher for as long as one likes. There are at least 16 different classes offered – a difficult choice to make, I might add.
The Center is geared toward accommodating Western students WITHOUT BEING WESTERN. Everyone here is gracious and helpful … the traditional Indian food, served on a banana leaf, is absolutely delicious. The accommodations are comfortable and spacious and clean. Students are encouraged to wear traditional Indian clothing (tunic and trousers) and, absolutely, have to be covered and respectful in their dress. The tone is serious and open: no drinking, no relationships, care taken with interactions with the local population, propriety in manner, attitude, and dress. One is here to learn; all else waits, all is in the learning. It is as it would be in any ashram, whether religious or educational. The attitude between student and teacher is serious and total: a bond.
Presently, my schedule is a combination of music, physical activity, and intellectual pursuits:
Group yoga lesson from 7:30 -8:30
Breakfast – 7:30-8:00.
Private lessons in Karnatic singing from 10:00-11:00.
Lunch from 1:00-2:00,
Lectures and preparing medicines on Ayurvedic medicine from 1:45-3:45.
Tea from 4:00-5:00.
From 5:30-6:30, it’s back to martial arts training with the rigorous martial arts
peculiar to Kerela (and described earlier when we journeyed to Kumily and the
Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary).
Dinner from 7:30-8:00.
Studying, typing, collating notes, collaboration with students in all of the in
-between times.
Wonderful, is it not??

Today, I will meet my teachers. Tradition requires that the student give the teacher a gift, a small gesture indicating their desire for learning what the teacher knows. In this case, an auspicious gift is a betyl leaf and nut with 1 rupee (about ½ cent). I might add that with the gift to the teacher comes the gift of the heart from the student, a promise that they will listen and do their very best, conforming to the teacher’s expertise and advice in the quest for knowledge and perfection. When the teacher accepts the gift, they accept the student. It is with the promise that they will depart all their knowledge, holding nothing back. They will guide the student in a subject. And because the courses are traditional and steeped in scripture, symbolism, and history, they can impart much, much more than facts and skills. It is an education: of the mind, of the body, of the spirit, of the soul. It is total and without bounds, perfectly individual and absolutely tailored to the gifts and limitations of the student. It is … absolutely challenging, and wonderful – and I write this after having had my first lesson.

My morning lesson is a private lesson on singing Karnatic (South Indian) music, a music that is “highly audible and acceptable to the ear”. Though I enjoy singing and had some lessons in western singing when I was 18, I have enough understanding of Indian music to know that I was entering an entirely different – and very precise and demanding – world. I was a little nervous, but was mostly extremely excited. I won’t be “good” at this, but I will learn so much. One hour of private tutelage, every day, for a month. My teacher, Santhosh, is extremely gifted and has performed all over India. His English is exceptional and he is able to convey the music, the theory, the history, the mythology, and the symbolism of the teachings with feeling and exactness – and, in the right amount and at the right time. This, is a true teacher, for this is an extremely difficult thing to do.
Our lesson started with an introduction to the Indian “notes”, similar to our do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do. In this case it is sa, ri, ga, ma, pa ,da, ni, sa. Now, where we have a major scale and a few variations of a minor scale, Karnatic music has 72 different “complete” scales, or ragas. A raga is a constellation of notes upon which the artist can improvise. A complete raga is one in which the ascending and descending scale is the same. By inference, I am assuming that there are countless varieties where the ascending and descending raga (scale) could be different – but nonetheless exact.
In Indian music, the raga (scale) is central. There are no accidentals. There is precision in improvisation. In addition to the scale, there is the rhythm (talam). In practicing a raga, one also practices using a specific rhythm. My first exercises were in an 8 beat rhythm (aritalam), using the hands in a specific way to count the 8 beats. In this case, the hand counted: palm down, finger, finger, finger, palm down, palm up, palm down, palm up. The palm down tones are the stable tones, similar to the tonic and fifth in western music. In my lesson, we practiced the raga, up and down, using the basic rhythm but repeating it at a half note, quarter note, eighth note, and 16th note pace (I found the last quite difficult). Then, I repeated some of his improvisations, the “followed” his improvisations simultaneously. He also introduced using an “ah” and “ee” vocalization, which, at first, I thought was like western exercises. It is not. The ah and ee sounds are quite precise, almost like tonguing on a clarinet or trumpet. No vibrato – absolute pure, perfect, on pitch tones. This … is a challenge! Though not ideal, vibrato can cover a multitude of pitch inaccuracies. There is a tremolo in Indian music, but this is NOT a vibrato. A tremolo goes very specifically between two tones (half tones or even quarter tones).
Besides the lessons in theory and practice, our time was interspersed with stories and attitudes. On the wall was a small picture of Sarasvati, the goddess of music and consort of Brahma. Sarasvati is always depicted with a veena (large, stringed instrument – very beautiful and a very old instrument). Sarasvati, it is said, is very big. She sits, however, on a white lotus. How, my teacher asks, is it possible for her to sit on the lotus without bending its stem? It is because she has no weight. Weight is symbolic for arrogance. Sarasvati has no arrogance and is humble to everyone. And so is the artist. There can be no arrogance in any art form.
I was also told the definition of guru: gu means darkness and ru means one who disperses the darkness. So the guru is responsible for guiding the student to the way of light. 5000 years ago, when the students lived with the teacher, the sciences were taught through verse. The verses were an aid for remembering the details of the instruction, much in the way that it is easier to learn a rhyme than a sentence. The oldest verse was on one tone with a variety of rhythm. Later verses added the tones just above and below the first, and then the others were added over the years. Santhosh also related the theory that some (many, all) of the ragas came from nature. He told a story of when, once, he sat in nature on the banks of the river in his native Kerela. It was after the harvest and there were many birds migrating. As he sat, he heard two birds, both unfamiliar. One sang a short 3 note melody; the other answered in a two note, slower one. Back and forth, back and forth. It was the raga we were studying. For him, it was a revelation, and one could see him reliving that moment as he told the story.
And so, the hour fled, and I am left to ponder … and to practice.