BBC Proms 2017: Prom 55 - Classical Music of India and Pakistan

A set of Hindustani (North Indian) music

Budhaditya Mukherjee (sitar)
Soumen Nandy (tabla)


A set of Carnatic (South Indian) music

Kumaresh Rajagopalan (Carnatic violin)
Jayanthi Kumaresh (Saraswati veena)
Anantha R Krishnan (mridangam)


A set of Qawwali (Sufi devotional music)

Fareed Ayaz, Abu Muhammad Qawwal and Brothers



Every time I go to an ethnic music concert, I walk out feeling like an ignorant idiot. It is easy to deceive a "third culture kid" such as yours sincerely to think that being conversant in two cultures makes one sufficiently cultivated. Sadly, for a start, coming from the Far East doesn't mean you know everything about the East. When we did GCSE Music, we had to do a section on ethnic music and we would look at Indian music amongst other things (such as Javanese gamelan and Jamaican ska). It was a section everybody ditched because chances are most 16-years-old signing up to study Mozart and Beethoven probably don't have much time and patience to immerse in the spiritual connotations of ragas and talas. When you spend so much time within the Western musical paradigm, it obscures sonic possibilities and it takes a lot of effort to get out of that mind set. A concert like this offers a very precious and comprehensive overview on the rich cultural heritage of Indian and Pakistani classical music, which shamefully I should know all about 15 years ago. Having said that, having gone through a jazz phase in the interim is very useful in appreciating this music. This late-night Prom consists of three 45-minute sets. The first set is Hindustani (North Indian) music on sitar and tabla. It is some very mesmerising explorations of melodic (raga) and rhythmic (tala) frameworks. The textural complexity is bewildering, where you have this very rich, sonorous, "polyphonic" finger-tapping on the tabla intertwining with some meditative modes of varying metres upon a drone on the sitar. It comes about as being transcendental in feeling. The Carnatic (South Indian) second set provided a stark contrast, where the material is predominantly melodic. The violin and the Saraswati veena are mostly either in unison or playing in question-and-response, supported by the hand-drum mridangam. The works are shorter and more varied in context and mood, ranging from the meditative to the hot-blooded. The amplification spoiled the sound somewhat, as it rendered the veena to sound like an electric guitar, but it can't be helped in RAH. The third set is Pakistani qawwali, a form of devotional music. It is vocally driven, supported by the harmonium and some percussion. It was ecstatic throughout and sent the audience, especially the compatriots, clapping and dancing. On top of this Prom being educational, it was also remarkably touching in a way. It is corny, and perhaps rather surreal, but when you see hundreds of people of different skin colour, religious beliefs, language and age group dancing and clapping in respect and appreciation to each other's culture at 1 am under the same roof of RAH, you kind of wonder why the world at large can't be more like that? Then I walked out feeling like an ignorant and irrelevant idiot, and wanting to see if Messiaen's "Cantéyodjayâ" make any more sense now.

BBC Proms 2017: Prom 54 - La Scala Philharmonic and Riccardo Chailly

BRAHMS Violin Concerto
RESPIGHI Fountains of Rome
RESPIGHI Pines of Rome

Leonidas Kavakos (violin)
Filarmonica della Scala
Riccardo Chailly (conductor)



If I have to pick a favourite living conductor, it would be without doubt Riccardo Chailly. I can't think of other active big names who consistently maintains that seemingly impossible fine balance of youthful freshness, textural transparency and sophisticated rigour, and he can draw that gravitational sound from almost any orchestra - I think it has something to do with his treatment of the lower register instruments. His latest Brahms cycle on Decca is revelatory, and so is the recording of the "Violin Concerto" with Leonidas Kavakos and the Leipzig force. It was with this high expectation that I turned up to this Prom, which involved Kavakos with Chailly's new band, the Filarmonica della Scala. The concert was delayed by 15 minutes as apparently the instruments were stranded at Stansted and only arrived as the audience took their seats, which was totally forgivable except it sent the message out that they did not rehearse the works on site, and it showed. It was a massive shame that the quorum only reached their full potential after exploring the acoustics for most of the first two movements of the Brahms VC. But they are very sensitive musicians, and quickly adapted to the scene, so by the end of the second movement we had that magical sound finally. The brilliant thing about this pairing, on recording or live here, is that they play the concerto with such chamber-like elegance, intimacy and warmth, where every pianissimo sings effortlessly, within that full overwhelming Romantic architecture. Kavakos visually displayed his commitment to the inner workings by actually playing to the orchestra sometimes, and the synergetic conversations flourished. The bigger impact came after the interval when the Italian force played Respighi's "Fountains of Rome" and "Pines of Rome". It was glittering and sumptuous, and the mercurial music (no pun intended) glowed to a triumphant close. Surprisingly, this was only the Italians' Proms debut. We need to hear more from them, let's hope they record more.

BBC Proms 2017: Prom 46 - Schoenberg: Gurrelieder (LSO / Rattle)

SCHOENBERG Gurrelieder

Eva-Maria Westbroek (Tove)
Simon O'Neill (Waldemar)
Karen Cargill (Wood-Dove)
Peter Hoare (Klaus the Fool)
Christopher Purves (Peasant)
Thomas Quasthoff (Speaker)

City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra Chorus
Orfeó Català
London Symphony Chorus
London Symphony Orchestra
Sir Simon Rattle (conductor)



One returned to London at 4:30 am after sleeping for 4 hours only the day before, what should one do? Stand for 2 hours to listen to a massive hyper-Romantic cantata, obviously. Pre-atonal/duodecaphony Schoenberg is severely under-performed, but are they "overlooked" for good reasons, one wonders? Here we have an ambitious 3-part, 2-hour long cantata, fused with much erotic harmonies in Part 1 and sensational drama in Part 3 and the entire experience is a massive emotional roller-coaster. If one is after quick thrills, then the performance by the choruses and the LSO is hands-down 10 out of 5, for Simon Rattle (and Simon Halsey) extracted every last drop of torrential drama from the immensely complex score to generate waves after waves of eargasm. No one minds some additional endorphin and dopamine in the bloodstream, really, except one cannot help but think "Gurrelieder" is a rather patchy work. There are a lot of interesting individual ideas within the intricate texture, but they fly in every direction and do not gel. It did not help when the protagonist, Waldemar, was almost rendered inaudible by the overwhelming instrumental forces. The other soloists were polarising amongst the Proms regulars as well, especially Thomas Quasthoff's Sprechstimme (I personally rather enjoyed it), citing inadequate passion as the reason. I am unqualified to comment on any singing, but in any case, I am glad and feel privileged to be able to hear "Gurrelieder" live, but still walked out with a reinforced feeling that, unless you are Klaus Haymann, chances are it's one of those works that would have been completely forgotten if not for Schoenberg's later and significant contribution to music. There are some enchanting moments in it, but I'd rather be left in equal measures of awe and bafflement by the "Violin Concerto".

"Maihime" (The Ballerina, 1950 - 1951) by Yasunari Kawabata

On the surface level, this is a story that is inspired by Stravinsky's "Petrushka" and the life story of Vaslav Nijinsky, the ballet dancer who performed the part of Petrushka at its premiere - in essence, a love triangle and the lament and psychological shell-shock of war. When one re-assesses the text using 2017 lingos, one realises that this is a visionary commentary on the (potential) disintegration of an "ordered" society in the name of liberalism, an inevitable fate that the Japanese society must have been facing at the time. In the novel, a traditional home is torn by personal desire when 1) the faithful but WWII-scarred academic father who lives off his wife's income and house wants to secretly emigrate to the US to avoid suffering from future wars; 2) the unhappy mother who runs a ballet school wants freedom and decides to reunite with a former lover; 3) the teenage daughter who is a promising ballerina elopes with a failed ballet dancer out of passion; and 4) the family feels uncomfortable with the gay teenage son. This title also introduces the very important concept of "the realm of the wicked" (魔界), a term from the words of the Zen Buddhist Ikkyu, that is found in many of Kawabata's later works. "Maihime" is perhaps the most in-your-face story amongst his most popular titles. The metaphorical dusk scenes are as scenic and beautiful as the galaxy ending of "Snow Country". Our "liberal" generation might find the "old-fashioned" sentiments bewildering, but it's an important document that records the predicaments of a rapidly changing world.

"Izu no Odoriko" (The Dancing Girl of Izu, 1926) by Yasunari Kawabata

If there is any trace of unbridled passion and freshness in Kawabata's major works, you would find it in "Izu no Odoriko". Youth creeps in and out of life and by the time you learn to treasure it you would have lost it for good. Such is also true for a lot of encounters in life. Chances are, one matures by regretting and becomes more calculating, so the beauty of innocence and honesty can only be appreciated in hindsight, through the sense of loss. Fate comes unannounced, journey goes on as it happens, and lives carry on with no resolution. Just as stars cross and do not meet again, it enjoys certain transient beauty - it is the aesthetic of "mono no aware" again. The romantic sentiment has become obscure and irrelevant in this rapid social media era, but this brutally short and compact novella reminds us how deep and slow passion used to burn, even in the absence of vulgar physical intimacy. Those who have ever loved unreservedly with no calculation would resonate with it.

"Senbazuru" / "Nami Chidori" (Thousand Cranes / Plovers on Waves, 1949 - 1951, 1953) by Yasunari Kawabata

Those who enjoy allegorical writing would enjoy "Senbazuru" and its (incomplete) sequel "Nami Chidori". It is my favourite work in this collection. This extraordinary Nobel-winning novel is considerably baffling on first reading as the plot appears to be too perverse to be reasonable. The story focuses on the traditional Japanese tea ceremony and the antique utensils it warrants and how they are passed down from one person to the next. The orphaned protagonist is mentally manipulated by the mistress of his father, who had another illicit affair with the wife of a tea ceremony practitioner, Mrs. Ota. The mistress wants to hook the protagonist up with a young girl, but instead he ends up having a affair with Mrs. Ota, who, out of guilt and shame, commits suicide. The protagonist then becomes intimate with Mrs. Ota's daughter, before eventually marrying the young virgin at the beginning. The sequel extends and reevaluates the story. This is a massive metaphorical examination on spiritual, cultural and physical inheritance, in which symbolic figures are augmented by much deeply sensuous writing. When one blindly accepts values and practices, as a lot of people from traditional societies do, one could get compulsive and obsessive to follow certain paths, even if it is morally questionable. There are two more short sequels to "Nami Chidori", and the "open ending(s)" in fact leave a big window for readers to wonder what physical and spiritual awakening of personal desires would eventually lead to. It is remarkable to see how differently Eastern and Western readers of this title interpret the themes if you search for literary criticism and book reviews online, and that is exactly why this book so fascinating.

"Koto" (The Old Capital, 1961 - 1962) by Yasunari Kawabata

The Nobel citation especially praises three of Kawabata's works - "Snow Country", "The Old Capital" and "Thousand Cranes". "The Old Capital" is perhaps the most direct and accessible story amongst Kawabata's major novels, and is most blatant about Japanese heritage and the threats it faces - when Paul Klee, Henri Matisse and Marc Chagall are mentioned alongside the discussions of novel designs of kimono parts, the post-war anxiety of "cultural invasion" becomes very obvious. "The old capital" refers to Kyoto, and the novel is a breathtaking travel guide in its own right, in that it takes the readers through the beautiful architectures of the city and incorporates its major festivals in its narration which is often decorated by epic descriptions of seasonal changes. All these captivating illustrations of cultural heritage offer the backdrop for the life stories of a pair of twin sisters, who are separated at birth, which in turn serves as a commentary of the perpetual struggle and price of establishing, maintaining and passing on tradition. In this globalised age where individualism prevails, it's worth reconsidering the perennial question - are life and personal choices worth the sacrifice for the bigger, common good?

"Yukiguni" (Snow Country, 1935 - 1937, 1947) by Yasunari Kawabata

"Snow Country" is Kawabata's best-known work and perhaps the best entry point into his style, aesthetics and philosophy. The haiku-like writing, the elegance of minimalism, the imagery evoked by language, the emotion implied within - the famous opening line epitomises it all: 国境の長いトンネルを抜けると雪国であった。夜の底が白くなった。信号所に汽車が止まった。(Loosely translated as: "Crossing the border through a long tunnel comes the snow country. Under the night sky everything is white. The train stops at the traffic lights.") I don't think anyone who has read the book can ever forget the sensuous, even erotic, opening and the celestial ending. Telling the story of the fruitless love between the metropolitan protagonist and a provincial geisha, this masterpiece is the perfect illustration for the Japanese aesthetics of "mono no aware" (物の哀れ), which conjures up the sort of spiritual and transcendental beauty that could only be felt through the sense of loss and natural passing of things - because existence is impermanent, any effort to attempt is, by nature, in vain. Despite the eventual fruitlessness, the effort validates human existence and therefore constitutes beauty, however ephemeral it might be. That justifies the obsession of "pointless" activities, such as impossible love, and therefore necessitates sadness and the lack of definite resolution. The remote desolation of the setting augments the emotional impact. The fullness from emptiness lingers on and echoes days after you close the book and it is this fascinating feeling that encourages me to read all of Kawabata's output.

Yasunari Kawabata Special: Foreword

I have become a massive fan of Japanese Nobel-winning author Yasunari Kawabata, ever since picking up the seminal novel "Snow Country" by chance. Initially I had no particular interest in any traditional Japanese sentiments or culture, but the poetic and graceful prose, the enchanting imagery, and the acute psychological insights of the writings enticed me to pick up his other works. Every work draws me deeper into this quiet vortex of emotional turbulence that pinches you in every direction days after closing the book. If you enjoy voluntarily losing yourself in streams of sensuous stimulation, reading about foreign cultural practices, or merely looking for "beauty", then join me in the next two weeks when I will share my love of all his major novels in a series of nine Instagram/Facebook posts. I don't intend to preach or indoctrinate, but I hope you will also find joy in discovering these transcendental writings that have kept me in awe in the past six months or so.

Yasunari Kawabata 川端康成 (1899 - 1972) won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1968 "for his narrative mastery, which with great sensibility expresses the essence of the Japanese mind".