Prabha Atre passed away on Saturday. In the words of music critic Mohan Nadkarni, she was an avant-garde musician alongside Kishori Amonkar and Kumar Gandharva. The use of the term avant-garde is interesting and noteworthy at the same time. Why would one think of Atre as avant-garde? Is it because she was also a composer, wrote bandishes and sang her own compositions? She also wrote extensively on khayal. Her books, Enlightening the Listener and Along the Path of Music immediately come to mind. There are many more in Marathi. She researched, composed, wrote, taught, and performed simultaneously. She pursued these activities all through her life and believed this is what musicians ought to do while stressing the fact that she never veered away from tradition or the shastras in her attempts to create new work. In fact, tradition opened up new pathways for her forays into composing and writing music. She said that alongside riyaaz (practice) in music, she continued her riyaaz of reading, writing, thinking, and discussing important topics. Later through her organisation, Swarmayee Gurukul, which operates out of her residence in Pune, she would regularly hold workshops, competitions, mehfils and gatherings to think and discourse about music. These gatherings would comprise performances by artistes across music gharanas. She took special pride in the fact that these events were organised entirely by her students.

I am not going to repeat what is already well-known. Her stint with All India Radio, the Maru Bihag and Kalavati that made her very popular, her emphasis on bhaav (expression), her thoughts on kirana gharana gayaki, her tutelage under Pt Sureshbhau Mane, Hirabai Barodekar, how she drew inspiration from Ustad Amir Khan (led to the introduction of sargam in her singing) and Bade Ghulam Ali Khan.

However, I want to talk about two things that she mentioned in a conversation some years ago. Atre was troubled by the growing – and inevitable – corporatisation of music festivals in India, which had reduced the time slots for performances. Music festivals were turning into giant events where the surrounding paraphernalia seemed more important than the performance. She wondered how music could thrive in such an ambience, and what the audience would learn from such an encounter. She missed the mehfils, small intimate gatherings where she enjoyed performing. In Along the Path of Music, she writes: “The business-like attitude that has entered the field of classical music today is there mainly because of these music festivals. It is here that the recent trends like newspaper publicity, huge fees, souvenirs, favours for the artists are nurtured. The poor mehfil has been buried under it.”

Another area that Atre felt deeply about was musicians writing about music. She advocated that more Indian musicians should write more about music. After all, practice generates theory so why should practitioners shy away from writing about their work? This could also address problems of misinterpretation often encountered in writing about music in India. She said there ought to be more writing about Indian music and the life of musicians. She further added that she had to write the text of the compositions that she sang because she couldn’t identify with what was available. In Along the Path of Music, she writes: “Today, I feel very strongly that musicians must talk and write about music as a part of their duty. In this matter, language is not very important. What is important is the communication of thoughts, ideas and experiences of the musicians themselves in their own words. When that takes place, the artist and the audience would come closer, practice and theory would come closer, the creative artist and the theorist would come closer.’’

May Atre’s work continue to build bridges and provoke many conversations.

Kunal Ray teaches literary & cultural studies at FLAME University, Pune. The views expressed are personal