The Indian classical vocalist Pandit Jasraj has died at the age of 90, a man described by one of his senior disciples, Sanjeev Abhyankar, as “an incomparable genius, the kind born once in a century”.
Indian prime minister Narendra Modi was among those paying tribute to this hero of his country’s music, saying his death leaves “a deep void in the Indian cultural sphere”. Known for his unique voice which had both depth and softness, Pandit Jasraj was one of a handful of remaining old school musical giants of the Indian classical world, alongside artists like Bhimsen Joshi and Kishori Amonkar. Incredibly, he was performing and teaching online until the end with a remarkably robust, age-defying voice. In the words of Oscar-winning composer AR Rahman, “India has lost one of its finest stars.”
Jasraj was a pioneering artist well known for his egalitarian approach. He incorporated Indian devotional music such as haveli sangeet and bhajans (devotional songs/hymns) into a classical milieu, transforming them into serious pieces; people loved his devotional music and he maintained mass appeal in a style where bhava (emotion) and devotion were paramount, yet all the while based on a very serious classical foundation.
Born in the northern Indian state of Haryana in 1930 into a musical family, Pandit Jasraj began learning tabla at a very early age from his elder brother Pandit Pratap Narayan, and later moved on to vocal music under another older brother, Pandit Maniram. He learned from various musicians in the Mewati and Agra gharanas (schools of music), becoming a regular radio performer and moving to Calcutta in 1947 – a hub of immense artistic activity for musicians at that time.
He settled in Mumbai in 1963, and continued on for the next 50-plus years to a prolific international performing, recording and teaching career. He established schools in India, the United States and Canada; Modi’s tribute added that “not only were his renditions outstanding, he also made a mark as an exceptional mentor to several other vocalists”. Over time he evolved the Mewati gharana to its greatest heights of ornamentation and sophistication, and proved himself to be a gifted composer, adding many compositions to the Mewati canon.
Kala Ramnath, violinist and senior student, described Pandit Jasraj as “the father I did not have while growing up, the best guru one could have had – and a very generous person in everything he did. Music is so abstract that one cannot visualise the placement of notes, but he made me visualise them in my mind. The microtones in every melody … I have travelled with him far and wide and he always appreciated not only me, but many upcoming musicians who had something to offer in their art. It was always instant appreciation, he never kept anything to himself. He just breathed music all the time – teaching us while at the dining table during lunch, during travel … always in music.”
Experiencing Jasraj’s performance was to see a force of nature in action. His concerts were awe inspiring in terms of his dynamic, creative style and classical technique. Some of his famous songs such as Mero Allah and Om Namo Bhagavate showed how he had the ability to begin with the gentlest of introductions, which then developed via a series of progressively elaborate stages to reach a dizzying climax of sheer rhythmic ecstasy. There was always a mesmerising, uplifting and joyous quality present in his repertoire.
His path-breaking style, the merging of such classical vocal prowess to render material which had mass appeal, was utterly unique. Ornamentation like meend (sliding from one note to the next), kan swar (the use of grace notes), gamak (oscillation between notes), murkhi (a short cluster of notes) and laykari (rhythmic work), were all facets of the traditional classical way of singing which he emphasised in the Mewati style.
As Abhyankar explained, his guru’s vast range of at least three octaves and such a versatile sound was without limitation since he exploited all three ranges freely – which made him a complete musician. In the lower octave, “he created sound as if somebody was diving deep into the ocean. When vocalising the middle octave, he gave a completely different magical and meditative grip. And when he travelled to the higher octave, it was like his voice was eager to meet divinity.”
The man behind the music was a generous, giving person, full of life, who brought people together, and who would happily take on deserving students. Abhyankar recalled his nickname for his guru was “the magnet” because once he brought someone into his orbit, he would keep them close, training and looking after them for years, sometimes decades.
He was a people person and a connector who built up a huge extra family of friends, well-wishers, students and contacts. Always active, always moving and in touch. Ramnath remembered her guru fondly as kind and caring to all his students, “treating us like his family, taking care of us when we stayed with him to learn music, not charging us a single penny for giving us the knowledge that he gave so generously. He has taken us to watch movies, to restaurants – lovely memories ... It is really hard to accept that I won’t be able to see him any more.”
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