The triumph of last week’s Kala Virasat Festival at Kamani Auditorium lay in the dynamic interactions between seven musicians — sitar maestro Ustad Shujaat Khan, ghatam legend Vikku Vinayakram, violinist Kumaresh of Ganesh Kumaresh, tabla players Mukesh Jadhav and Ojas Adhiya, and mridangam player Sankar Narayan. One of the pieces from the concert that hovered around raag Yaman, touching that teevra ma, particularly stood out. The two string instruments showed their virtuosity, keeping the gayaki ang (Vilayat Khan’s son was at the helm) alive. But amid those harmonies, the difficult rhythm-transits and melodic labyrinths created by Kumaresh and Khan, saxophone player George Brooks was an imposing presence. He sat down like the rest of the classical musicians (something western musicians don’t do) dressed in a white kurta pyjama, his two thin plaits dancing on his shoulders, as he brought in a playful series of saxophone blurts. “We were having a conversation and you were eavesdropping. It was like Indian music with an accent,” says Brooks, after the concert. In the past three decades Brooks’ saxophone has become an intrinsic element on the Indian classical music scene. Unlike composer John McLaughlin, who brings a superb mastery to Remembering Shakti but visits only once in a few years, Brooks has being travelling to India for over 30 years now. His training with vocalist Pandit Pran Nath put things in perspective for him. “Back then, I would wake up at four, do the kharaj ka riyaaz, cook for my guru, massage him. It was as close as I could get to the system,” says Brooks, who also met Zakir Hussain around the same time and the two became close friends. “Playing with Zakir bhai was a wonderful experience. Things began falling in place,” says Brooks, whose recent collaboration with Grammy-nominated violin player Kala Ramnath was widely appreciated. But before Brooks stumbled upon Hindustani classical, he was studying arpeggios and swung notes of jazz. “I don’t come from a musical family but somehow picked up the saxophone when I was 10. But it was during my music conservatory days that I found Indian music. A lot of Western classical musicians believe that Indian music, when improvised, stays in one mood. But when I played it, it was different. Even now when I sit next to Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia and play an alaap, jod and jhaala, I feel liberated. I have never felt confined,” says Brooks. He understands that it’s easier for a jazz musician to straddle that jazz swagger along with Hindustani music as “both the genres cover a lot of common ground.” As for adjusting his saxophone amid the complicated Indian rhythms, Brooks says he is not a mathematical guy. “I see music as a language and not just a structure of notes. My brain is more comfortable with that,” says Brooks.
