Abhang is part of the cultural fabric of Maharashtra. A form of devotional poetry dedicated to Vithoba, verses composed by Sant Tukaram and Sant Dnyaneshwar have been sung by generations over time. During Ashadhi Wari (typically in July), people come together during the Wari pilgrimage to Pandharpur to create a collective energy around abhangs. And now Mahesh Kale, 50, is giving this annual journey a contemporary form through his ongoing “AbhangWari” concert tour, which combines centuries-old abhangs with light and soundscapes. The Pune-born, San-Francisco-based engineer-turned-musician trained in Hindustani classical music with his parents, Mukund and Meenal, disciples of Veena Sahasrabuddhe. He then found a guru in Pandit Jitendra Abhisheki.
Among the many genres that Kale practises, he finds an incessant flow of joy in the abhangs. “Abhang means unhindered. And when ever I sing, I feel that unhindered joy every time. I surrender myself to art. While travelling on that (spiritual) journey (on stage), I sometimes find divinity. That makes me feel humbled,” he says.
After wrapping up house-full concerts in Australia, New Zealand and Singapore, the National Award-winning artist is now touring 12 Indian cities, from 4 July to 10 August—today, the tour commences in Ahmedabad. Besides abhang, Kale experiments with various soundscapes, combin ing Indian classical compositions with rock, jazz and Western symphonies. Recently, he collaborated with American saxophonist George Brooks at the Stan ford Jazz Workshop. In an interview with Lounge, Kale talks about what it means to be an artist in the age of artificial intelligence (AI). Edited excerpts:
Are there moments from the ‘AbhangWari’ that stood out for you?
I am noticing many youngsters in the audience, many of whom might not be familiar with abhang. But together with other members, they chant “Vitthal, Vitthal” with tears in their eyes. During my recent concerts, a little boy, around 3-4 years old, sang along with cymbals in his hand. At that moment, I felt assured that Indian classical music will continue to find a place in young hearts.
How exciting or challenging is it to be an artist today when attention spans are shorter and there is the increasing use of AI?
It is a very exciting time. Not all techno logical advances are negative. Look at the tanpura, for instance. We now have the digital version of it that allows for the instrument’s sangat (companionship) with you at all times. Suvidhayein kis tarah se use karni hai, yeh manushya hee tay karta hai (It’s human beings who decide how to use the facilities on offer today). My guruji used to sing, “… Buddhi meri vimal ho…” (my mind should be clean). So, if your mind is pure and clean, technology will only assist you, not be a deterrent. I can reach my audience with the click of a button, I can find old recordings of maestros online. Technology is there to help us. We just need to focus and work.
How did your childhood lay the foundation for your passion for ‘abhangs'?
I lived in Pune till my early 20s after which I went to the US for higher studies. The city was then regarded as the cultural capital of Maharashtra. Pandit Jasraj used to say, "Jisko Pune ne suna, usko poora vishwa sunega (The one whom Pune has heard, the whole world will hear)”. In my house, abhangs and bhajans were sung and heard on a daily basis. My elder brother used to play the tabla and my mother was a classically trained singer. My father, although not trained, had a great ear for Hindustani classical music. He could identify ragas within 10 seconds of listening to a bandish. As a child, I learnt hundreds of abhangs from him. When I entered college, I was learning classical music. I also started listening to film songs and music by Michael Jackson, Elton John and Mariah Carey. There was a seamless coming together of the traditional and the contemporary. My parents and guru never curbed my curiosity. And that’s why I find myself at ease performing at a jazz concert or a project such as Infusion, while also being able to sing khayal for more than an hour.
How do musicians need to improvise to engage the younger audiences?
My shows are packed with youngsters. I cannot pinpoint why that is. Recently at festivals such as Virasat (Dehradun), Sankat Mochan Sangeet Samaroh (Varanasi), Harballabh Sangeet Sammelan (Jalandhar), I have sung khayal for 80-90 minutes. And people have been receptive. To keep the audience engaged, musicians need to evolve. My wife, Purva, remarked the other day that I should make a bandish on self-driving vehicles. How apt for our times! I’ve now set a lyrical composition to Raga Dhani, a sarvakalik raga, which can be sung at any time of the day. It goes like this: “Chali chaal chalat chatur / bin saarath ek path nihar / aapan marag aap sawar / chaar pahar kar san chaar / buddhi yantra rache vistar, nidar dagar kar vihar / chali chaal chalat chatur.” Loosely translated, it talks about a vehicle that moves without a driver and is set to the instructions of AI. We don’t have to sing “saas, nanad” (mother-in-law, sister-in-law) bandish all the time. In the 150-plus compositions I have set to various ragas recently, I have addressed issues of water conservation, animal protection, ecology, and more. Being a musician isn’t just about going on stage to play or sing; living with music is what defines a musician.
Abhilasha Ojha is a Delhi-based independent writer.