Going for the Grammy?

Sixty-year-old mrudangist, Umayalpuram Sivaraman, who still doesn’t perform with women artistes,is ‘‘proud to have done it all — fusion, world music, jugalbandi.’’ Violin maestro Dr L Subramaniam attributes it to an unparalleled market value. Having given the word respectability, he agrees that often it’s the music companies that suggest fusion to boost sales.

Subramaniam has made music with Stephane Grapelli, Yehudi Menuhin, George Harrison, Jean Pierre Rampal, Stanley Clarke, Jean Luc Ponty, Joe Sample and Maynard Ferguson. Another of his albums will release this year.

But there are some more, making some purists label the trend as ‘‘directionless’’. In a scathing attack, music critic Mohan Nadkarni feels ‘directionless’ is a mild word. ‘‘It’s actually artistes running berserk, amok, attracted by the Grammy glamour.’’

Trust Mohanveena maestro Pandit Viswamohan Bhatt to counter this. ‘‘The Grammy didn’t make me popular, I made the Grammy popular in India,’’ says Bhatt, the second Indian after Pandit Ravishankar to get a Grammy (1994) for A Meeting By the River, a fusion album with the inimitable guitarist Ry Cooder. An uncompromising Bhatt says, ‘‘Fusion today spells a wider reach, escalating sales, excellent royalty. No wonder then, that most artistes love to jam with Western musicians with an eye on the award and the cash counters.’’ Hence the overkill!

Santoor virtuoso Rahul Sharma, who has dabbled in classical, film music and fusion all at the same time, doesn’t ‘‘fit the overkill bill, because so far I have collaborated only with McLaughlin and pianist Richard Clayderman.’’ His album, Confluence, with Clayderman, recorded last year by Virgin Records, was re-released in the US by Narada Records in February. ‘‘Going international brings the Grammy closer,’’ he says.

For flautist Ronu Majumdar, a Grammy nomination followed his album In Search of Life by Universal — a jugalbandi with Swiss pianist Christian Seiffert. ‘‘The flute is a common instrument in Western music, so I had to call it ‘Bansuri’ to make them feel the magic,’’ he confesses, saying that the genre is not gimmickry. Nadkarni doesn’t agree, ‘‘The truth is, those who can’t sustain themselves in classical music are taking to fusion.’’What’s real fusion then? ‘‘It’s more structured, wherein you understand the other culture,’’ says Subramaniam. Percussionist Trilok Gurtu, nominated for the prestigious Emma Awards (Electronic Multimedia Awards) to promote ethnically diverse talent in music (to be given in London at the end of this month), feels that playing with international artistes is a ‘‘rare honour’’. ‘‘And no, it’s not an easy route to the Grammy.’’

But why then is Gurtu — one who always loves to fuse Indian beats with Western sounds — moving into a distinctly Indian phase. His latest album, Remembrance, features all Indian artists and Indian acoustics. An Indian turnabout around the corner?

Says Nadkarni, ‘‘Yes. Once at a keynote address at the World Music Congress, Netherlands (where I was one of the 50 delegates), I had said, ‘Here is a system which could stand the ravages of time for 3,000 years. As long as the swara, raga, laya and tala remain unaffected, Indian music will remain immutable.’’