Mohan Samant: Painting of the Month: October, 2001 (print version)

Blind Singer with Swaramandala

#0108 Water color on paper 49.5 x 34.5 ins. 2001

This water color was executed during the week of September 11. The North Indian singer in this water color accompanies himself with the swarmandala, a modification of the santoor, which came into use around 1942 by singers. It was popularized in Bombay by a Pakistani singer Bade Ghulam Ali Khan who was originally a professional sarangi accompanist and then after some years began to sing himself. Like most sarangi players he could sing well using extraordinarily fast singing patterns. The sarangi accompaniment serves the purpose of a musical decoration which fills up the spaces between the vocal phrases. However, singing with the tanpura alone without the harmonium or sarangi accompaniment requires a tremendous concentration which leads to a certain degree of spiritualism with the help of microtones which the tanpura produces.

The drone instruments had a very traditional purpose. The original drone instrument was the tanpura which in the hands of a very good player and tuner could resonate into 13 notes and 24 srutis (sub notes). Singing with the tanpura enhances subtle musical phrases. It also exposes faulty singing. Unlike the tanpura, the strumming of the swarmandala drowns out the weaknesses of the singer. Mostly this instrument is tuned to the exact scale of the particular raga which is being sung. In this scale there may be many other ragas with different constructions - different combinations and permutations. A North Indian concert instrument which looks like the swarmandala is the santoor which is played as a solo instrument. This instrument differs from the swarmandala in that the wires are struck with hand held hammers and therefore has the capacity to accurately retain the raga system.

In my painting the musician is blind so he has no alternative but to strum the swaramandala. He copies the texture of the sarangi in his voice but sweetens it up by means of the swarmandala. It didn't matter which raga he is playing he could just strum it. I thought it was a banging instrument - no technique needed.

I started this painting with an abstract expressionist painting with no subject matter like all my other paintings. Non-subjective white paper can be manipulated, maintaining its non-subjectiveness by mere application of restrained but floating colors. Then I make vague linear drawings allowing the forms to float to the surface. While the painting is still wet I float the vague drawings allowing them to become partially suggestive of a subject matter. Then using all the techniques at my disposal I gradually mix the subjective with the objective. These vague drawings suggest subjective or objective visual ideas. The way in which things come out is like magic - like pulling a bird out of a hat. The painting is never complete. I stop because at that particular moment I feel I can not go any further. Later on, perhaps months or years later, I might work on it again - unless of course the painting is sold. Then the process is ended since the painting is not my property anymore. Just as in playing music I stop because I feel I have exhausted all the probabilities of that particular raga. Painting is an unending process. There is no such thing as a finished painting.

Image: The instruments, sarangi and swarmandala, surrounded by sculptures of musicians and dancers from the artist's collection..