![]() |
Gangubai Hangal |
Gangubai Hangal was a worthy successor of the elite group of woman singers who preceded her: Zohra Bai, Kesarbai Kerkar, Mogubai Kurdikar and Hirabai Barodekar. She didn’t have the apparently unending breath of Kesarbai or the variety of Mogubai, but she definitely put the better-stocked Hirabai into a shade despite her mannish voice.
She couldn’t match the fireworks of her contemporary Roshan Ara Begum, but projected the grandeur and atmosphere of ragas in a manner the Begum did not. Gangubai mesmerised where the Begum entertained. And she sang in the khayal style percolating down from Ustad Abdul Karim Khan through her guru Sawai Gandharva (Rambhau Kundgolkar).
Her death marks the end of the style. This was firmly saddled on tala in the manner of the Gwalior Gharana prototype and did not float about rudderless like the extremely slow tempo style popularised by Hirabai and her brother Suresh Babu Mane.
Because of her deep voice, Gangubai could sing halaq taans and gamak taans like Abdul Karim, just the way her fellow Sawai Ghandharva pupil Bhimsen Joshi could.
Gangubai and Bhimsen had quite a few things in common, including the way they looked when engrossed in raga elaboration with their eyes closed and eyebrows slightly knit. In some on-stage photographs they look like brother and sister. Perhaps they got this from their teacher.
However, they differed in their attitude to music. Bhimsen was a professional and altered and expanded the original style taught by Sawai Gandharva to suit contemporary taste. Gangubai was unprofessional and stayed immersed in the original style till her death. That, of course, was why Bhimsen attained national stardom while Gangubai remained a connoisseur’s favourite.
I discovered Gangubai at home in my childhood during which 78rpm discs played all day on a radiogram geared with a Garrard record changer. As what must have been a gamak taan or something hit my midriff like a Joe Louis uppercut, I gasped and asked who this was. It was Gangubai. The time was morning and the raga Bhairav.
As I became a classical music buff in my late teens, Gangubai did not let me down. Some of the best recitals I have heard in ragas like Komal Rishabh Asavari, Bhairav, Devgiri Bilawal, Marwa, Bilaskhani Todi and Abhogi Kanada were by her.
She was the only musician who used both the flatter than usual (ati komal) and sharper than usual (tivra) komal gandhar (minor 3rd) in Abhogi. In fact, I learnt how such things are done by listening to her.
Gliding swiftly to the madhyam (4th) from the rishabh (major 2nd), she slid down to the gandhar with a mildly oscillating glide and a touch of crescendo. The gandhar became a grain sharper as it swung forward and backward from the madhyam. I saw a couple of listeners following the swing with their heads as if mesmerised. A similar effect was conjured up by dragging the gandhar from the rishabh and then swinging it to produce the flatter one.