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karingforbooks's review against another edition
informative
reflective
slow-paced
3.25
It’s not the most gripping book I’ve ever read but it’s interesting and I learned a lot about Indian music.
talonx's review
4.0
Brilliantly written. It can be read as fiction, but it's actually an autobiographical account of the author's experience with her teacher, Dhondutai Kulkarni (who passed away in 2014), one of the last great singers of the Jaipur gharana, with life accounts of other luminaries of the gharana. Written as sequences of flashbacks, she weaves anecdotes about her guru, her guru's guru and other singers, notably Alladiya Khan, into a very readable account.
If for nothing else, read it for the insights into Hindu-Muslim syncretism that existed (and still does) in Hindustani classical music - where music is the real religion of the musician, irrespective of what they were born into. I left out one star because the author has put unnecessary stress on this at some points - even when it's evident - and this breaks the flow of the tale.
If for nothing else, read it for the insights into Hindu-Muslim syncretism that existed (and still does) in Hindustani classical music - where music is the real religion of the musician, irrespective of what they were born into. I left out one star because the author has put unnecessary stress on this at some points - even when it's evident - and this breaks the flow of the tale.
harinid's review
4.0
Ex of context this would perhaps be a 3/5 read for me but there was a specific reason that I picked up Namita Devidayal's The Music Room and there was a very distinct outcome for me, personally.
It is a bit serendipitous as to how I ended up reading the book. A family friend was back in town for a few days and wanted to do one of those historic walks in the city. Based on the available dates, we ended up doing one of the Opera House, Girgam and Lamington Road area. It was in the course of this walk that I was introduced to Kesarbai Kerkar, and her student- Dhondutai and the house she stayed in with 'Ayi'. Our guide, who regaled us with stories of the Jaipur Gharana, insisted that I read this book after we concluded the walk. Intrigued by the subject and having learnt hindustani classical music for sometime (in the distant past), I picked up the book.
Thematically, a question raised by the book is something I have always pondered over- how some artists with all the talent and perhaps discipline to match it, don't make the leap into the 'greats'? Musings around this question as well as over the various stories of the Jaipur Gharana make it an enjoyable read.
It is however the portrayal of her teacher, Dhondutai, that in way painted a picture of the most ideal guru; a magnanimous teacher with patience abound- that struck a chord. Reading this book was serendipitous for a classmate of mine, that I have long lost touch with was a student of Dhondutai. Having read the book, I was compelled to reach out to him for I felt that I understood a facet of him that I never had while in school. For me, this propelled the read into a category of its own. A case of right read at the right time?
It is a bit serendipitous as to how I ended up reading the book. A family friend was back in town for a few days and wanted to do one of those historic walks in the city. Based on the available dates, we ended up doing one of the Opera House, Girgam and Lamington Road area. It was in the course of this walk that I was introduced to Kesarbai Kerkar, and her student- Dhondutai and the house she stayed in with 'Ayi'. Our guide, who regaled us with stories of the Jaipur Gharana, insisted that I read this book after we concluded the walk. Intrigued by the subject and having learnt hindustani classical music for sometime (in the distant past), I picked up the book.
Thematically, a question raised by the book is something I have always pondered over- how some artists with all the talent and perhaps discipline to match it, don't make the leap into the 'greats'? Musings around this question as well as over the various stories of the Jaipur Gharana make it an enjoyable read.
It is however the portrayal of her teacher, Dhondutai, that in way painted a picture of the most ideal guru; a magnanimous teacher with patience abound- that struck a chord. Reading this book was serendipitous for a classmate of mine, that I have long lost touch with was a student of Dhondutai. Having read the book, I was compelled to reach out to him for I felt that I understood a facet of him that I never had while in school. For me, this propelled the read into a category of its own. A case of right read at the right time?
nuts246's review
5.0
They say that a book finds you when you are ready for it. That is certainly true of Namita Devidayal's "The Music Room". I bought the book for my mother a few years back with the intention of someday reading it myself, but it found it's way to me only now. I am glad I didn't read it before, because the fact that I have started learning kathak recently helped me immensely in appreciating the book.
"The sixteen-beat cycle starts and ends and stars and ends, creating a repetitive circularity; the melody has to accommodate itself within its scaffolding; it has to negotiate with the parameters to find a happy balance between freedom and responsibility, rights and duties, exhilaration and restraint. There is scope for risk-taking, within reason, as long as one came back to the line of control in time, and hit sama, the drum stroke where one cycle ended and the new one began; a point of arrival and of departure. This is a musical metaphor for life as it should be lived. Truly great musicians can swerve into unchartered bylanes, but still find their way back to the destination. On time."
I paused on this paragraph and ruminated on it for a couple of days before I could proceed. And when I did, I had to resist the urge to underline every line!
Namita Devidayal began learning music from Dhondutai when she was still a young girl. For many years, she virtually lived a double life- the life of a Westernised young woman in Bombay and the life of a shisya of a guru who taught classical music in the traditional way. Though it might seem like the two worlds would be at odds, Namita transcended the two worlds with ease, till the time when she had to choose between her two lifestyles.
Her ruminations on the world of classical musicians, the sacrifices one has to make to remain in the world, and the highs and lows are captured beautifully in the memoir. I would recommend the book to anyone with more than a passing interest in the classical art forms.
"The sixteen-beat cycle starts and ends and stars and ends, creating a repetitive circularity; the melody has to accommodate itself within its scaffolding; it has to negotiate with the parameters to find a happy balance between freedom and responsibility, rights and duties, exhilaration and restraint. There is scope for risk-taking, within reason, as long as one came back to the line of control in time, and hit sama, the drum stroke where one cycle ended and the new one began; a point of arrival and of departure. This is a musical metaphor for life as it should be lived. Truly great musicians can swerve into unchartered bylanes, but still find their way back to the destination. On time."
I paused on this paragraph and ruminated on it for a couple of days before I could proceed. And when I did, I had to resist the urge to underline every line!
Namita Devidayal began learning music from Dhondutai when she was still a young girl. For many years, she virtually lived a double life- the life of a Westernised young woman in Bombay and the life of a shisya of a guru who taught classical music in the traditional way. Though it might seem like the two worlds would be at odds, Namita transcended the two worlds with ease, till the time when she had to choose between her two lifestyles.
Her ruminations on the world of classical musicians, the sacrifices one has to make to remain in the world, and the highs and lows are captured beautifully in the memoir. I would recommend the book to anyone with more than a passing interest in the classical art forms.
wynwicket's review
4.0
This memoir about a young woman growing up as a musician in India has opened my eyes to the world of Indian classical music. It must be difficult to write about music, to describe sounds and melodies in words, but Ms. Devidayal certainly succeeded, with beautiful prose. I kept running to the Web to hear what the various instruments and ragas sounded like, and I learned so much.
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