"The greatest musician in the world": Steve Heilig interviews Ali Akbar Khan

Whole Earth,  Fall, 2002  by Steve Heilig

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To speak of Ali Akbar Khan is unavoidably to deal in superlatives. Among his fellow musicians--who would seem to be the most qualified to know--the praise is unreserved. Concert violinist and composer Yehudi Menuhin called Khan "An absolute genius ... the greatest musician in the world." Renowned Indian musicians from around the globe gathered to perform for Khan and a sold-out audience of thousands at a recent concert in honor of Khan's 80th birthday. One of the performers, leading Hindustani vocalist Pandit Jasraj said, "I don't think there are words in English to convey the depth of [Khan's] inspiration, but in twenty centuries, there is no parallel." His father, a famous Indian musician, dubbed him "the emperor of melody." Kahn is the undisputed master of the sarode, a twenty-five-stringed sitar-like instrument, usually carved from a single piece of teak or mahogany. Among all who revere him he is known as Khansahib or Baba, terms of devotion and utmost respect. His awards, honorary degrees and fellowships, and other recognitions come from many nations; in his native nation of India, he is designated a "National Living Treasure."

It may be ironic, then, that what inspires all this lofty acclaim is a form of music devoted primarily to attainment of inner wisdom and contemplation. Indian music in its classical form--the kind Khan exemplifies--remains "exotic" even in this era of the mainstreaming of world music. At its best, it is performed and presented as a vehicle for spiritual advancement. Khan himself expresses the ultimate goal of the Indian musician as a lifelong quest. "If you practice for ten years, you may begin to please yourself. After twenty years you may become a performer and please the audience. After thirty years you may please even your guru, but you must practice for many more years before you finally become a true artist--then you may please even God."

Khan has certainly practiced as he preaches. Born in 1922 in East Bengal (now Bangladesh) into a family that traces its lineage of performers back centuries, he began his musical instruction at age three. His father, Baba Allauddin Senya Binkar Gharana--acknowledged as the greatest living figure in North Indian music--and his uncle tutored him in an apprenticeship that included training and practicing virtually every waking hour for twenty years.

In the 1960s, just predating the first real surge of interest in Indian music in the US, Khan immigrated to California and soon opened the Ali Akbar College of Music, the premier training site for performers of Indian music in this country. He lives nearby in a modest home filled with people and dogs. The rooms are filled with mementos of his life, including his first, custom-designed miniature sarode. (Not so much a drone instrument like the larger sitar, the sarode is fretless like a violin. Ten of its twenty-five strings are played with a plectrum, while the others resonate. It can be played finger-style and/or with a slide.) The instrument can be traced back over 2,000 years, but Khan's father redesigned it for modern times. Khan's son, Alam, debuts on sarode on Khan's latest release, the aptly-named From Father to Son.

In person, Khan's reputation and stern public countenance can render him an imposing presence, at least at first. But as we talked, he relaxed and even began to joke while generously sharing his time and memories. His sons practiced in the next room, and the sound of sarode and tabla wafted through the walls into his studio, evidence and reminder of the passing on of a great tradition and heritage.

STEVE HEILIG: Do you recall your first experience of music--how you became aware that music existed?

ALI AKBAR KHAN: Well, we trace musicians in my family at least back to the sixteenth century, and fathers teach sons. My grandfather was a renowned musician, as was my father. So learning music was just like learning a language in my childhood. A baby's brain develops and learns things like talking, playing, walking--and I had music too. I started learning to sing at age 3, singing parts of ragas and short songs for maybe ten minutes each morning.

SH: When did you begin a more formal training?

AAK: When I was 7 or 8 years old, it became more structured, and gradually increased to eight hours a day of practice and learning from my father to play all kinds of instruments. He could play about 200 different instruments himself.

SH: Two hundred? Are there that many Indian instruments?

AAK: No, but he had left Bengal and studied Western classical music in Calcutta, so he knew things like saxophone, trumpet, the double bass, bagpipes....

SH: Bagpipes? In India?

AAK: Yes, even bagpipes. He had run away from home when he was young because all he wanted to learn was music, and his parents wanted him to also go to regular school. He found the right music teacher near Delhi and ended up staying there, studying for thirty years.

SH: My impression is that, historically, all instruction in India had been by memory, passed on among generations.