Dimensions In Rhythm

Background Indian Rhythm

Excerpt from, “The Harmonic Perspective of Rhythm”

Indian Rhythm, The Larger, Older Stage

As many sources tell, the subject of Indian music is vast and ancient. The old epics tell of music’s divine origins as a gift from Lord Brahma, the Creator, to Lord Shiva, who passed it in turn to Saraswati, Narada or Bharata, depending on the story and version told. (Joshi 1977, 6) Apart from legend, references to music theory document this long history. From the Vedic age (2000 to 1000 B.C.), there is early mention of note names and instruments, including the Veena, Vanshi and Damaru (stringed instrument, flute, and drum). The Buddhist and Jain scriptures reference the early classical form known as Jati music and the Veena. The epics Mahabharata and Ramayana (500 B.C. to A.D. 200) reference the seven notes and various instruments. Bharata’s famous music treatise the Natya Shastra (A.D. 400 to 500) first names the seven notes of the octave. (Joshi 1977, 6–7; Leake 1986, 4; “Portal: Indian Classical Music” 2013) Historical references to musical developments and treatises continue into modern times. In addition, there are the numerous folk genres which exist alongside, and have served as inspiration for the classical traditions. (Deva 1995; Joshi 1977; Wade 1987; Strangways 1989; J. Kippen 2006; Jairazbhoy 1988) Finally, the situation is complicated still further by the existence of not one but two classical traditions: The Carnatic tradition of Southern India and the Hindustani tradition of the North, itself a result of the extended cultural fusion that took place with the successive Muslim invasions starting in about 1100 A.D.

Necessary Limitations

This short overview will attempt to limit this immense subject and the inherent complexity therein by discussing primarily rhythmic theory in classical Indian Music. That rhythmic theory is the primary interest in this work is clear; the choice of classical music is based on several considerations: 1. The classical genres are well documented, and more accessible outside of India, through instruction and recordings; 2. The classical genres are arguably more complex and complete in their conception of rhythm; 3. My local teacher, Karthiegasen Pillay, is a proponent and performer of Indian Classical Music.

South and North

The choice of which classical tradition to focus on is more problematic. I chose to document my process of learning to understand Indian rhythm through the process of learning the tablas, because tablas were readily available, and because they were an iconic symbol of Indian rhythm inside and outside of India; they are relatively popular around the world and have proved adaptable to various genres of music. Also significant, I liked the sound and wanted to learn the instrument.

The tablas, however, are primarily a North Indian, Hindustani instrument, and my local guru is primarily a South Indian, Carnatic performer. The difference, though at times problematic for me, seems to be less so for Mr. Pillay. Most of the percussionists in his classes in fact play tabla; in the classes I have attended, approximately twelve students played the tabla, and only one or two the mrdungam, the standard drum in South Indian Classical music. Pillay, of course, plays both, and makes periodic reference to the similarities and differences, which he seems to understand intimately. The two streams are at some point in the distant past of the same origin and therefore share much in common. I will of necessity, then, attempt to present an overview of both Carnatic and Hindustani concepts of rhythm and drumming, aided by written sources that cover one, the other, or, as here, both. This dual approach is implied by the course of my tabla learning experience, and by the historical and contemporary nature of Indian Classical rhythm. There are also important pedagogical and stylistic concepts—in particular, polymetric exercises and an elastic treatment of time—that align with harmonic perspective of rhythm, the approach under scrutiny in this study.

Common Origins

There are two principal schools of Indian classical music: the Hindustani or Northern school, and the Carnatic or Southern school. The fundamentals are the same in both the systems. But they differ in development and treatment. (Joshi 1977, 19)

The commonalities can be easily seen in terminology. Many of the musical terms are the same or nearly the same, likely pre-dating the early Islamic Sultanates and Mughal Empire that spawned the hybrid Hindu/Muslim cultural forms of the North. The notes of the scale, Sa Ri Ga Ma Pa Dha Ni, for example, are the same in both systems. However, the conventions of alteration of the principal notes differ.[1] Likewise, the general name of a note is svara, the melodic system of a given composition or performance is raga, and the metric scheme is known as tala, in both Carnatic and Hindustani terminology.[2]

‘Metre’ in Context

Just as the term ‘scale’ is insufficient to describe the notes and the various melodic conventions of movement that are implied by raga, so the term ‘metre’ goes only so far in helping the uninitiated listener to grasp the concept of tala. Tala is perhaps better translated as ‘rhythmic cycle’[3]; it is in the details of what constitutes this cycle however, that some complexity arises. There is considerable debate on the definition of metre, of the applicability of western concepts of metre to other musics of the world, of the psychological processes involved in perceiving and/or generating a concept of metre, and so on. The reader interested in detailed discussions of this sort is referred to the work of London, Clayton, Arom, Agawu, and Lerdahl and Jackendoff. (London 2004; Clayton 2008; Arom 1991; Agawu 1995; Lerdahl, Jackendoff, and Jackendoff 1996). For clarity, I will use as a foundation Clayton’s statement that, “Much music (but not all) is organized with respect to a periodic and hierarchical temporal framework, in such a way that a cognitive representation of this framework may be generated in the mind of the listener. This organization and its representation are termed ‘metre’” (Clayton 2008, 41). When discussing Indian classical music, at least some of the confusion relating to questions of how metre is perceived and whether different metres are perceived in similar fashion by different people is avoided because the structure is inherent in the conception of the music. According to Clayton, all metrically organized North Indian rāg (and presumably all metrically organized Indian classical music) is, “set to one of a number of authorized metric frameworks called tāls.” (Clayton 2008, 43, emphasis my own) This part of the discussion will focus on the constitution of these authorized metric frameworks, rather than digressing into the theoretical and psychological analyses referred to above.

Tal/Tala

Just as in the Hindu religion, man is born, lives his life, dies and is then reincarnated to begin a new life, so the tala cycle begins, develops and then returns to the sam, the first beat of the cycle, anchor of all melody and rhythm and the leading beat to which all returns. (Montfort 1985, 63)

Tala is a recurring cycle of some fixed number of beats. The cycle is more than that however. Inherent in each of the tala cycles is a structure made up of subsections that occur and recur in a fixed order. The tala, overall, is something of a map indicating the way in which time unfolds under its influence, rather than a simple number to be counted. Deva offers this example: “Karnatak (Carnatic) music has Jhampa tala and Matya tala, both having ten aksara-s (beats or counts); but the former has a sectional arrangement as 7+1+2 and the latter 4+2+4. The internal pattern thus becomes very important musically and aesthetically.” (Deva 1995) I will begin to explain the Carnatic conception first since, as Montfort states, “The music of South India retained a purity of development that has led to a highly organized theoretical system.” (Montfort 1985, 63)

Carnatic Tala

The basic components of tala in Carnatic music are the three angams: anudrutam, drutam and laghu (Montfort 1985; Deva 1995; Pillay 1997; spellings differ slightly in different sources)[4] With these basic time units are composed the 35 principal talas in contemporary usage. Montfort and Deva make reference to 108 classical or ancient talas, but descriptions are mostly held to the “later, more mathematically organized system of 35 talas.” (Montfort 1985, 63) According to Deva, the 35 talas in contemporary usage were classified by Purandaradasa in the 16^th Century. Besides the 108 ancient talas and the 35 principal talas, still others exist, such as the Chapu talas. (Deva 1995, 40) However, this discussion will focus on the 35 principal talas and their organization based on the angams mentioned above.

The Three Angams: Components of a Tala

Each of the angams is expressed by performers and audience alike with a gesture of the hands, or of one hand against the thigh. The anudrutam, commonly represented by the symbol ‘U’, is always one beat long, and is marked with a clap of the hands. The drutam, then, is always two beats and is marked with a clap and wave. It is represented by the symbol ‘O’. The laghu, however, can be three, four, five, seven or nine beats long; it is marked by a clap and the appropriate number of finger counts, and is represented by the symbol ‘I’. There are seven principal talas—which are in effect formulaic combinations of the three angams—each with the possibility of five different length laghus, thus rendering the 35 tala scheme. The number of beats in a laghu is known as jati. As an example, the first of the seven principal talas is called Dhruva. Each of the possible Druva varieties has the form: laghu, drutam, laghu, laghu, or, I O I I. Tisra jati indicates that the laghu has three beats. Therefore, Druva tala, tisra jati would be represented as I₃ O I₃ I₃; Its beat structure is 3 + 2 + 3 + 3, or 11 beats. Each of the 35 talas also has its own short name, which in the aforementioned example is Mani tala. The common, eight beat, Adi tala, which is the primary tala Pillay uses with beginner students, is a variety of the fifth principal tala, called Triputa, which has the structure I O O. It is Triputa tala, chaturasra jati, meaning its laghu has four beats. The resulting count is thus 4 + 2 + 2, rendered, clap, 2, 3, 4, clap, wave, clap wave. As indicated in bold, each angam begins with a clap, thus the claps mark the sections of the tala. As we will see this is not necessarily the case in the North Indian system.

It is not my intention to teach the entire system to the reader; ancient treatises and even modern books on Indian music tend to bewilder the mind of the uninitiated and/or foreign reader with great lists of terms and names reaching back to antiquity. As all the equivalent terms do not exist in English, however, and to give some semblance of the actual system as it is used, I have used the more important Indian terms here. As an aid, they are listed in the table that follows.

Even without listing the names of the rest of the 35 talas, the interested reader can piece them together using the structures of the seven principal talas and applying each of the five laghu types I₃, I₄, I₅, I₇, and I₉. The seven principal tala structures are listed below:

Table 1. Carnatic Tala Formulae. The angam structure is indicated in the counting gestures with bold type.

I have seen no reference that explains why these formulae are as they are. It would seem one simply has to accept the system and learn from it. That more variations could be added is clear, but just as clear is the immensity of the task of memorizing and mastering these 35 talas. Among them, there is only one with three beats and one with four; two have six beats, three have eight beats, and one has sixteen. These more common metric schemes aside then, the bulk of the 35 are unusual (to most outsiders), long, odd, or all three. Four talas have 20 or more beats and the longest—Dhruva tala, Sankirna Jati, or I₉ O I₉ I₉—has 29!

Subdivisions: Gati

Within the beat, the subdivisions used are also three, four, five, seven and nine. A composition or performance will tend to explore one of these beat subdivision schemes for an entire section before moving to another. The name of the particular subdivision being used is gati (as opposed to jati, the number of beats in a laghu) (Montfort 1985; Pillay 2011), and the numbering is the same as those used above: tisra for three, chaturasra for four, khanda for five, misra for seven and sankirna for 9.

Mnemonic Syllable Systems: Bols and ‘Jati Rhythm Scales’

Indian musicians make extensive use of syllables for the transmission of musical ideas. Besides the solfège-like system mentioned above (sa, re, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni, sa), there are names for the various sounds produced on the drums. These sounds, or bols, are used to teach and memorize extended compositions, with or without reference to written sources. Unfortunately for the novice, there is considerable variation between the bols used in Hindustani and Carnatic drumming; even within one system, one sound can have several different names that change depending on the context, ease of pronunciation, teacher preference and so on. In South India there is also a common system used to count tala divisions, referred to by Leake as, ‘Jati rhythm scales.’ (Leake 2010; Montfort 1985)[5] As some or all of the syllables are also used for tabla and/or other musical memorization/notation systems, the potential for more confusion exists. However, the jati system seems to be standardized as a way to count rhythmic divisions, irrespective of sound source, and as such is quite useful as a theoretical and pedagogical device. (Leake 2010; Montfort 1985) The jati numbers apply once again, but in this case there are fixed syllables used for each grouping (Table 51).

Table 2. Jati/Konakol Counting Syllables.

Exercises

Monfort and Leake recommend exercises using these syllables to superimpose the different groupings on the various subdivisions, or gati, (see above), and to do so in different talas. As an example, Montfort starts his ‘Exercise III’ with Adi tala, which has eight counts or beats, subdivided into three, or tisra gati. One is then instructed to keep tala (clap, 2, 3, 4, clap, wave, clap, wave) while reciting the jati syllables above in the five different groupings, all while maintaining the tisra gati subdivision. Tisra jati corresponds with tisra gati, so each ‘ta ki ta’ aligns with each beat. Chaturasra jati, however, creates six groups of four within the 24 (eight beats times three subdivisions per beat) subdivision cycle. This creates a three against four polyrhythm, expressed in a linear fashion. To hear the interaction, it can help to think: TA ka di MI ta ka DI mi ta KA di mi, or, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, etc.; the bold, underscored syllables, represent the beats of the tala, as marked with the hand gestures. A next step would be to emphasize every ‘ta’, or ‘1’, to bring out the three cycle while the hands keep the four.

Audio Example 1. Adi Tala, Tisra Gati, Grouped in Fours (CD Track 1).

Four and three fit nicely into a cycle of 12 subdivisions; It takes two repetitions of this polyrhythmic cycle to fill one eight beat adi tala cycle. The challenges continue to mount as one moves to the other five, seven and nine jati groupings. These don’t resolve within one tala cycle so they have to be continued for several, or else started somewhere in the middle, so that they resolve on the all important sam, or beat one (Montfort presents the latter option). Having mastered those, the next challenge could be to do the same with a new primary subdivision, such as chaturasra gati, or four, and then of course to repeat all with other talas.

Audio Example 2. Adi Tala, Tisra Gati, Grouped in Fives, Full and Truncated Cycles (CD Track 2).

This provides an experience of simultaneous rhythmic structures, devised from a theoretical understanding. In my own lessons, I have not been instructed in this way (though casual reference to the concepts may have been made), nor have I seen this method in the literature I have examined on traditional Carnatic apprenticeship. Though I was not instructed to do this sort of practice by my teacher Mr. Pillay, I did choose to practice quite a few of the aforementioned permutations, coming from a theoretical, outsider perspective as I do. In fact, the methods of Montfort and Leake referred to above, as well as Toro’s, are directed at the musician wanting to incorporate new conceptual perspectives from outside their own, presumably Western musical outlook and activities, be they playing, improvising, composing, or listening; they are not addressed at the process of learning a specific instrument or repertoire (although Leake has also written an excellent tabla textbook, referred to elsewhere in this discussion (Leake 1986)). A more usual method for introducing the student to the fundamental rhythmic complexities expressed in Indian music, and thus preparing him or her to improvise with an unerring sense of the tala, is the learning of compositions that exploit some these possibilities. This is of course the method sine qua non in oral tradition; it demands not just theoretical understanding, but the ability to demonstrate the conceptually demanding material, arranged in an aesthetically pleasing and traditionally acceptable manner, on the instrument(s) themselves. The degree to which the material must be understood conceptually is a matter of lengthy debate, which will be addressed in the section on ‘natural’ musicians (page 73), “Ways of Knowing” (page 79), and elsewhere throughout this thesis.

Aural Tradition: Exercises in Context

A solo based in Adi Thala was given to me by Pillay over a long series of intermittent lessons during the course of about one year (he continued to add to and modify it for instructional purposes until our lessons finished in 2015). It contains sections based on two and four subdivisions to the beat (chaturasra gati), as well as three (tisra gati), five (khanda gati), and seven (misra gati).

In the excerpt below (Figure 6.1), we find an interesting example of the extension of a phrase to three different lengths, bringing it out of alignment with the tala, then the repetition of another phrase to bring the phrase structure back in line with that of the tala. According to Pillay, this section is a korway, which is a combination of phrases, played either two times each or three times each. (Pillay 2011) The phrase that is manipulated in this korway is a partial statement of a recurrent theme found throughout the composition, num dhin kita thake natha chatha kita thake.[6]

Audio Example 3. Adi Thalam Solo Motif (CD Track 3).

This phrase is used as something of a cadence to demarcate sections or sub-sections of the piece. It is referred to repeatedly in the section immediately prior to the excerpt, in increasing frequency, finishing the section with four uninterrupted repetitions. After the relative tension built by the four repetitions of this relatively dense phrase, there is a partial release with the dropping of the last two beats of continuously expressed 1/16th notes. This release of tension is suspended, however, as new tension is built with the counter-metric phrasing to come.

The first iteration of the partial phrase, num dhin kita thake tham, covers three beats and is played twice (first part of bar 5); the next iteration then, tha num dhin kita thake tham, starts on beat seven. It covers three and a half beats and is also played twice (end of bar 5 to middle of bar 6); the second repetition is particularly unsettling (or exciting, depending on the temperament of the listener), as it starts on an off-beat and is played with that orientation, compared to the previous statement. The third iteration, tha tha num dhin kita thake tham, covers a more familiar four beats (end of bar 6 to first half of bar 7), but not in concert with the four beat halves of the tala cycle; Rather, it extends first from beat six to one, then from beat two to five. Finally, starting again on beat six comes the first of three repetitions of another phrase, tham tha te natha chata kita thake tham (last half of bar 7 to beat one of bar 9). This thiramanum[7] is similar to the original, un-truncated phrase, but significantly different as well. Both are four beats long, and both contain the 1/16th note ‘run’, natha chatha kita thake. This concluding phrase however, begins and ends with the strong, two handed, open bass stroke tham, first as an 1/8th note and finally as a ¼ note. This relatively long note is like a breath before the next repetition. The phrase starts first on beat six, as noted, then on beat two, and finally on beat six again to end on beat one, sam. This time, however the phrase is technically only three beats long as the last tham is not played but rather subsumed by the next section. (The notation system is explained in the terminology and notation page.)

Figure 1. Adi Thalam Korway.

Audio Example 4. Adi Thalam Korway (CD Track 4).

Tension and Release, in Time

This rather detailed description of the rhythmic placement of phrases in this short excerpt is meant to highlight the variable and often counter-rhythmic nature of the material, reinforcing, contradicting and again reinforcing the tala. It is of course the nature of primarily percussive musics to work with time in this way to create tension; As harmonic and melodic tension are not applicable, or at least less so, it is rhythmic and dynamic tension that are exploited. The various sounds can be thought to make melodies, especially in the case of Indian drumming, where the palette of sounds is quite rich and varied. The melodies don’t create tension in a key-centered framework, however, but in the creation, juxtaposition, reduction, augmentation, deconstruction and recombination of phrases and their components. The result is a network of relationships between these phrases and bits of phrases, as well as between the phrases and the metric structure. In an accompanying role, of course, a dialogue would also exist with the soloist and other performers.

Elsewhere in the composition, similar examples of reduction, augmentation and recombination of thematic material can be found, as well as sections that use other subdivisions of the beat. This occurs as foundational material: There are sections of the composition in thisra nadai (Pillay’s spelling), or three subdivisions to the beat, kanda nadai, or five subdivisions to the beat, and misra nadai, or seven subdivisions to the beat. The composition also contains phrases that use other subdivisions, counter to the foundational subdivision, such as a two beat phrase with a subdivision of nine in the misra nadai section.

Composition in an Improvisational Context

Indian classical music is largely improvisational, so compositions are used to teach the student some of the culturally endorsed possibilities for variation within a particular tala (the preceding discussion presents a sample indicating the wide range of these possibilities). The compositions can also be played on their own as part of a recital or used whole or in part in an improvisational context. Both North and South Indian traditions include lore on the vast stores of compositions held in memory by great players.[8] Another approach is the teaching of variations on a structural form. Though Pillay also teaches short repetitive phrases or ‘grooves’ used to accompany various musical forms such as the bhajan devotional song, it is in Hindustani music that this approach takes precedence as a conceptual framework.

A Cultural Hybrid

According to Montfort, Hindustani music, in contrast to Carnatic music, “has achieved its equally high artistic standards through the cultural interaction between Hindus and Muslims, producing an extremely rich but less-systemized music. This process brought into being an estimated 350 talas, of which ten are most commonly used.” (Montfort 1985, 89) According to Clayton, about 20 talas are commonly used in North India today, but even some of those rarely so. (Clayton 2008, 57) As with Carnatic music then, the Hindustani rhythmic concept is theoretically vast, practically less so, but still highly challenging to perform or comprehend.

The Hindustani Approach

It is in the Hindustani concept of theka that we find its divergent orientation. Although the audience may keep tal[9] in Hindustani musical forms, its is largely the tabla player who maintains the tal by playing its characteristic theka.[10] The theka is a sequence of drum sounds, or bols. The bols are recited verbally and/or played on the tablas, and serve as memory and notation aids, as in Carnatic music. As the concept is the same but the names are different, so Hindustani music also uses hand gestures to keep tal, but they are executed differently, and identified by different symbols.

The Hindustani Rhythmic System

The tal cycle in Hindustani music is divided into groups of the primary, counted beat. These groups are called vibhags. Some of these vibhags are marked with a hand clap and some with a wave.[11] The beginning and end of the cycle (the ‘one’) is known as sam, as it is in the south. It is marked by a clap in all but Rupak tal. The sam and other clapped vibhags are known as tali,[12] and vibhags marked by a wave are known as khali. Sam is notated with a ‘+,’ (or in some sources an ‘X’) other tali vibhags with consecutive numbers starting from two, and khali vibhags are notated with a ‘O.’ Almost all common thekas are khali (wave) at their midpoint.[13] According to Clayton, “The primary requirement of a clap pattern is that the identity of sam should be clearly and unambiguously established, and therefore the pattern should not repeat within the cycle.” (Clayton 2008, 62) Therefore, a tal with an even number of vibhags, for example, must have at least one khali to disambiguate the progression from sam to sam. The aforementioned information is summarized in the table and example thekas below.

Table 3. Basic Elements of Hindustani Tal.

Example 1. Three Common Hindustani Thekas.

Martin Clayton points out that in some cases the relationship between the tal structure and the theka is quite clear, for example when the khali coincides with the absence of open strokes on the low bayan drum, whereas in other cases, it is less so. (Clayton 2008, 60) Clayton also proposes a hybrid model of tal analysis that integrates the idea of theka with an older Indian music whose rhythmic foundation is more akin to that found in the South.

A Hybrid Model of Rhythm

In Hindustani music, there is a drum correlate to the Carnatic mrdingam called the pakawaj. Both drums are double headed and barrel-shaped, with one head (the right for right-handed players) that is smaller, corresponding to the right drum of the tabla set. The pakhavaj, like the mrdingam, is also much older than the tabla. Legend has it that the first tabla set was created by splitting the pakawaj in half, though this seems unlikely[14]. (Joshi 1977; Wade 1987) Stewart, Clayton and others agree that the tabla most likely developed in the last few hundred years only, with the modern form perhaps less than one hundred years old. (Clayton 2008, 52–53) What is clear is that modern Hindustani music exhibits a direct connection to the more ancient Hindu music, especially in the repertoire of the pakhavaj. Sachs states that Indian music and metre stem from the nature of the Sanskrit language: “India relies on the metrical aspect of rhythm more than any other country has done, not even excluding Greece. There are two obvious reasons for such predominance. One is the purely metrical character of the Sanskrit language down to the beginning of our era: long and short syllables were carefully kept apart without any accent in a western sense. The other reason is that verses—metrical verses—were used as the idiom, not only of poetry, but also of philosophical, historical, and grammatical treatises.” (Sachs 1988, 99–100).

Syllabic, Melismatic and Hybrid Interpretations

Clayton seems to agree with this linguistic orientation for older Indian music at least, and uses the term, ‘syllabic’ to describe music which is, “conceived as comprising distinct units, which have temporally definable attack points as well as other qualities of tone, timbre, dynamics, and so on. These units are called bols, because they constitute or can be represented by spoken syllables.” (Clayton 2008, 49) He goes on to juxtapose this model with his ‘melismatic’ model, which he claims developed largely in the 20th century in the khyal genre of singing. Khyal singing is performed at a markedly slow tempo, which allows the very expressive, melismatic style to flourish. Khyal performers continued to use the tala system, however, but in combination with a portamento style of melodic development. “Melismatic rhythm could be described as rag- or melody-oriented—the simplest building blocks of the music are the melodic patterns specific to each rag. Therefore each note need not be articulated with a new bol; a singer may stretch one text syllable melismatically to a considerably lengthy and complex melodic pattern, an effect imitated by the mind (portamento) produced on the sitar and other instruments.” (Clayton 2008, 51–52)

From these two models, Clayton proposes a third, hybrid model that he uses to explain the state of modern Hindustani rhythmic practice. He claims that theka is a result of this hybrid orientation; A syllabic model, as still used in South Indian classical music, does not rely on accentuation but rather on the historical clap pattern and a surface rhythm, “derived from a stream of distinct pulses.” (Clayton 2008, 49) The accentual model, as presented in the concept and practice of theka, however, is composed of weighted and non-weighted matras (beats), thus outlining an accentual hierarchy of beats between which, presumably, a more elastic approach to rhythmic improvisation is catered for.

Elasticity

I would add that it is perhaps the poly-metric nature of Indian music that has helped to engender this elastic rhythmic sensibility. Although Carnatic music is extremely diverse and complex in its modes of rhythmic expression, it is also quite strict in its presentation of and adherence to a strict stream of pulses. The combination of an accentual matrix and poly-metric sensibility would seem to be an ideal ground in which to cultivate an accurate but elastic time sense, capable of drawing on several metric schemes in the space of one phrase. This idea will be discussed more in the chapter, Polymeter, page 198.

Lay/Laykari

Hindustani rhythmic specialists also extend the possibilities of any one metric structure through the introduction of alternative beat subdivisions and groupings therein, and by playing a composition or theka in different relationships to the beat structure of the tala. The concept of lay or laya is used variably and thus translates as ‘rhythm,’ ‘speed,’ and ‘rhythmic density,’ among other possibilities. Whereas in South India the tempo is theoretically fixed, with different speeds achieved through manipulation of the relationship between matras (beats), jati (subdivisions) and the tala, in North Indian music the primary matra tempo used to count tal is variable as well. There are three principal degrees of laya: vilambit, or slow, madhya, or medium tempo, and drut, or fast, with additional gradations possible (e.g., ati vilambit, or very slow, etc.); these are essentially the same names and concepts used in South India; the principal difference in the Northern approach is the variable speed of the reference matra tempo.

As mentioned, laya in North India can also refer to the relationship between the tal count and the articulation of bols—the subdivisions of, or multiples of the beat. Clayton confirms the broad semantic range of the terms lay and laykari, and prefers the latter when referring to the variation of rhythmic relationships. In reference to laykari, he states:

It means primarily either (a) the variation (usually increase) of lay ratio, or (b) the distortion of, or deviation from a steady beat (i.e. syncopation or rubato)…By extension of these senses, laykari describes (c) any technique dependent on or derived from the division of the tal and variation of the speed level (i.e. cross-rhythmic accenting, permutation of rhythmic groups, and so on); and hence (d) rhythmic variation in general (this sense is analogous to the more general sense of lay itself). (Clayton 2008, 153)

Thus the terminology, as the practice, is layered with meanings and references to various concepts. In this summary account of the basic principals of Indian rhythm I do not suppose to present an all-encompassing view, conceptually or semantically, but rather to give a detailed, comprehensible overview that can serve as a basic model for the elucidation of the central hypothesis of this discussion. I will continue to use the term lay to refer to tempo and laykari for rhythmic manipulation.[15]

Lay Ratios, and Regrouping

The manipulation of the ratio of articulations to tal beat structure indicates that the beat is doubled, tripled, quadrupled, etc. Given a ¼ note rendering of the basic beat, this indicates 1/8 notes, 1/8 note triplets, 1/16th notes, etc. Also indicated, however, are fractional ratios (ratios where one number is not a multiple of the other). These can be written and conceived of in different ways. Clayton lists the first five ratios as 1:2, 3:4, 1:1, 5:4 and 3:2. Montfort prefers a to write them as fractions (he also lists more possibilities) and gives ¼, ½, ¾, 1 and 1 ¼. Both are summarized below:

Table 4 Hindustani Tala Division Ratios, with ‘Fractional Layas’ Shown in Bold. (Clayton 2008, 156; Montfort 1985, 95)

All the non-fractional ratios from 1:1 up (1:1, 2:1…5:1, 7:1, etc.) correspond to the notion of gati as discussed in the section on Carnatic music. In other words, 5:1 means there are five subdivisions to the beat. 3:4 however, indicates there are now three articulations in the space of four counts of the tal. We are now in the realm of harmonic time, with two beat streams—one the count of the tala, and the other the bols as articulated by the musician—that are not related by multiples of whole numbers. That is, one is not expressible as a unit of the other. The relationship can be derived (made non-fractional) by multiplying the two together and applying the result as a new subdivision unit, e.g., twelve, that can simultaneously be expressed as three groups of four or four groups of three. This is the same process we saw in the Carnatic section when the tala was expressed as tisra jati (three subdivisions to the beat), but grouped in fours: ta ka di mi. This method quickly becomes clumsy and/or un-useable with more complex relationships such as 7:4.

The Indian Learning Process

As mentioned in the previous discussion on Carnatic rhythm, I was at one stage under the impression that most of the process of mastering the complex rhythmic relationships discussed above took place through the learning of compositions that utilize them. This has been true in my lessons thus far with Pillay, and this was suggested to me several times in discussion with Toro, who claimed that in the Indian apprenticeship memorization took precedence over analysis:

Those building blocks of, you know? Of pulse. That’s what we play. And my two cents is that if you just know the downbeat and the upbeat and the dotted note (whistles)…and the Hindus know that. The Hindus know that because they’re learning it in their compositions. It’s part of the compositions. But you ask a Hindu person that, they won’t know. (Toro 2012m)

Kippen, however, in his research on the tabla tradition in the city of Lucknow, presents a different picture.[16] Though he goes into detail on the importance of the memorization of a large repertoire of compositions, both in the gharana (see footnote below) and school systems, Kippen also mentions his guru’s emphasis on ‘creative thinking,’ essential in composition and improvisation.

In order to compose or improvise in tabla-playing, it is obvious that a facility in rhythm is vital. Not only must a musician cope with complex cross-rhythms, but he must also know instinctively where he is within a metric cycle and, particularly, where he must begin and end his composition or improvisation. Consequently many exercises aimed at developing the pupil’s sense of general rhythm (lay) and his knowledge of the structure of specific tals are given in the initial stages of the training. (Kippen 1988, 123)

Example Exercises

Kippen goes on to give three example exercises, described and Transcribed Below.

Reciting the Theka at Different Speeds Relative to the Tal

In the first exercise, the student is required to keep a steady tal (16 beat tintal, in the example) with the appropriate claps ((X), (2), (3) in bold and parentheses), waves (O) and beat counts on the fingers (for tintal then: (X), 2, 3, 4, (2), 6, 7, 8, (O), 10, 11, 12, (3), 14, 15, 16). He or she then recites the bols of the theka for that tal (na dhin dhin na, na dhin dhin na, na tin tin na, na dhin dhin na)[17] in different speeds. The first speed is barabar lay, or one bol per beat. The speed is then increased to one and a half, two, three and four times the original, while maintaining the original speed with the hand gestures. One and a half speed indicates three bols for every two beats; the bols pattern happens three times in the time of two sixteen beat cycles. Visual representations are given below. Note the complete tintal cycles of the bols are differentiated in alternate shaded and non-shaded sections.

Table 5. Exercise 1: Tintal in Barabar Lay—equal speed or one bol per beat.

Table 6. Exercise 1: Tintal in De’orhi Lay—one and a half speed or three bols to every two beats.

Table 7. Exercise 1: Tintal in Dugun Lay—double speed or two bols per beat.

Table 8. Exercise 1: Tintal in Tigun Lay—triple speed or three bols per beat.

Table 9. Exercise 1: Tintal in Caugun Lay—quadruple speed or four bols per beat.

Audio Example 5. Kippen Tintal Exercise in Speeds (CD Track 5).

Mixing Thekas and Tals to Create New Ratios

For the next exercise cited by Kippen, the student also keeps tintal, and increases the speed relative to the beat to one and a quarter, one and a half, one and three quarters and two times the original, but recites the bols for ten beat jhaptal, twelve beat ektal, seven beat rupak and then back to tintal, respectively.

Table 10. Exercise 2 summary.

Table 11. Exercise 2 Excerpt: Gesturing in Tintal While Reciting Jhaptal Bols, Sawa’i Lay, or Five Bolsper Four Beats.

Audio Example 6. Kippen Jhaptal Over Tintal Exercise (CD Track 6).

Superimposing Other Cycles with Four

The third exercise relayed from the Lucknow gharana by Kippen involves tapping with the two hands only; one hand keeps a steady four beat while the other hand taps cross rhythms against (or with) it, from one up to sixteen, in the same time duration as the steady four beat. Without the bols, thekas and other culturally rooted approaches, this exercise comes very close to the type advocated by Toro, or especially by Peter Magadini, who prefers a primary cycle of four beats and who also studied in India. (Toro 1995, 1993a, 1994; Magadini and Sykes 2001; Magadini 1995) Visually, it would look something like this:

Figure 2. Exercise 3: Superimposing Beat Cycles One to Ten With Four.

Audio Example 7: Kippen Cycles 1 to 10 with 4 (CD Track 7).

The preceding exercises, much like those outlined in the section on Carnatic rhythm, are like games to challenge the tabla student and develop his or her facility at rhythmic manipulation within the tal cycle. The bulk of the student’s training is of course spent working on technique—including a good sound, hand placement and dexterity with many combinations of bols—the memorization and performance of compositions, and improvisation. Much of this discussion has focused on the preceding exercises as they are more accessible to the reader than the experience of learning compositions, and because they present a general approach to the development of rhythmic sense, like the methods of Efrain Toro. In addition, many of the compositional forms are in fact specific ways of developing improvisations with given material (from the theka, for example), and utilize the rhythmic versatility developed initially through exercises such as those above.

Summary

To summarize this brief introduction to Indian classical rhythmic concepts:

The rhythmic concept in India has been developed over many centuries; The Carnatic music of Southern India today presents the modern version of this development, relatively untouched by foreign cultures. It is a highly organized system, more strict in its adherence to the approach passed down and developed since Vedic times.

The Hindustani system of North India is the result of the cultural interaction between Hindus and Muslims; this hybrid culture is also quite old by western standards, at nearly 1000 years, but the rhythmic system in present use is likely not more than 200 years old. It combines features of the Carnatic system (in particular the use of bols to articulate rhythmic ideas and compositions, the use of various tal structures in a variety of metres, and advanced rhythmic manipulation using a variety of beat subdivisions and groupings) with an accented tal structure capable of supporting melismatic expression. This tal structure is expressed and maintained by the the theka, a rhythmic groove that is unique to each tal. The theka is also used as material for rhythmic manipulation, particularly by altering the speed at which it is played against the tal. It can be added that the theka must be ornamented by the drummer, and that a few of the compositional forms besides theka include:

Peshkar: A loosely structured compositional form which introduces the tabla player using more ornamentation and variation of the original theka. Peshkar often introduce fragments of kaida themes before evolving into full kaida presentation.

Kaida: An extended composition which introduces a main theme and proceeds to develop variations while also continuing to restate the main theme (rhythm and variation).

Rela: A short tabla composition comprised of basic strokes which, when played quickly, becomes very exciting and climactic. Relas can develop variations like kaida themes, but this is not a prerequisite for performance[18]. (Leake 1986, 13)

[1] The melodic systems are notably complex in both strains of Indian classical music; Wade gives a useful overview and comparison for musicians trained in the Western perspective. (Wade 1987)

[2]   These terms vary depending on sources, system of transliteration, and musical strain; Rag and tal are often seen in discussions of Hindustani music, but the similarity is still clear.

[3]   Deva uses this description as a chapter title. (Deva 1995)

[4]  Pillay mentions six Angam-s: Guru, Anudrudam, Drudam, Lagu, Plutham, and Kaka Paada; However, he only elaborates on the three mentioned above, citing them as the most commonly used. (Pillay 1997) Presumably the other three are used in the ancient system of 108 talas.

[5]   Also see Konakol (“Konnakol” 2014)

[6]   These are Carnatic bols, as used by Pillay. Each syllable represents the articulation of a particular sound on the instrument. The same material could also be played on the mrdingam, the standard drum of a South Indian classical ensemble.

[7]   According to Pillay, thiramanum is the Carnatic equivalent of the more commonly used North Indian term, tihai, defined by Leake as: “a rhythmic phrase repeated 3 times with the final stroke of the third phrase landing on an important beat of the cycle. A tihai is commonly used for concluding a melodic or rhythmic composition. Ti = 3, Hai represents the suffix meaning triple.” (Leake 1986, 13) Pillay gave a similar definition for thiramanum/tihai. (Pillay 2011)

[8]   See Kippen for a discussion on exaggerated boasts of compositional knowledge, plus memorization past and present (Kippen 1988, 122–23); See for a discussion of compositions and the gharana system (Leake 1986, 14); Wade and Kippen discuss various compositional formulae used in Hindustani drumming. (Wade 1987, 151–57; Kippen 1988, 126–27, 160–202)

[9]   In this section, I will use common Hindustani expressions and spellings such as ‘keeping tal,’ instead of ‘keeping tala.’

[10]  According to Pillay, in Hindustani music, the tabla keeps the tal, while in Carnatic music the tabla (or mrdingam) player plays with the tala kept on the performers’ (and audience members’) laps. (Pillay 2011)

[11]  Tal is also kept by counting finger joints, starting from the base of the pinkie. Using both hands, one can indicate the beats (matras) with finger counting as well as the vibhag with claps (on the thigh) and waves. See Leake for suggested exercises. (Leake 1986, 59–60)

[12]  Leake uses the term bharee, which indicates an open stroke on the low bayan drum, played by the right handed tabla player’s left hand. (Leake 1986)

[13]  The exception is seven matra Rupak tala, which has both sam and khali on the same beat.

[14]  Deva and Wade cite the story of Sudhar Khan who dashed his pakhavaj to the floor after losing a drumming competition. It split and the two halves became the tabla. This would have been in the time of Emperor Akbar (1556-1605). (Deva 1995; Wade 1987) Joshi and others state that the pakhavaj was cut. (Joshi 1977) Another popular legend has it that the tabla was introduced from farther west by Amir Khusrau in the thirteenth century. (Wade 1987, 135–36)

[15]  Wade also refers briefly to the term parenthetically, i.e., “To sing tarana requires skill in rhythmic manipulation (layakari) and the ability to sing syllables rapidly.” (Wade 1987, 177) This is perhaps a clearer explanation than the more comprehensive one quoted above.

[16]  Lucknow is a city in the Northern province of Uttar Pradesh, and home to one of the six main tabla gharanas (‘houses’ or lineages). The others are Delhi, Benares, Punjab, Ajrada, and Farukhabad. (Kippen 1988; Leake 1986; Clayton 2008; Neuman 1985, 1977; Wade 1987; Deva 1995)

[17]  This is the example given in the Kippen text from which this exercise is taken. Another common version is, dha dhin dhin dha, dha dhin dhin dha, dha tin tin ta, ta dhin dhin dha. Dha uses an open bass sound on the left hand bayan drum, as does dhin, so this version features almost continuous bass articulation. Na and ta are the same sound. Also common is to clap on all thali/baree vibhags; this differentiates them sonically from the khali vibhag, which is marked by a wave. (Leake 1986, 59) I find this system preferable, as heard in the audio example.

[18]  The suggested order of performance in one video lecture by the tabla virtuoso, Zakir Hussain, is: peshkar–kaida-fixed composition-rela. (Zakir Hussain Lecture and Demonstration of Tabla 2007) For extended descriptions and examples of these forms see appropriate sections in Leake and Kippen. (Leake 1986; Kippen 1988)

Bibliography

As you’ve seen in the text, I have included links to most of these works. If you are interested in purchasing any of them, please consider clicking through and helping to support this labor of love. Thank you! YIR (Yours In Rhythm), John