On June 19, Seagull Books celebrated its 25th birthday with a midnight concert featuring two luminaries of contemporary Indian classical music at the G.D. Birla Sabhagar. From the poetic beauty of the stage decoration to the laconic but warm welcome note, the programme was unmistakably distinguished. The night began with a vocal performance by Rashid Khan, accompanied by Anandagopal Bandyopadhyay on the tabla and Jyoti Goho on the harmonium. Khan began his recital with a meditative alaap in Bageshree, a raga beautifully suited to the lateness of the hour. He progressed deeper into the mandra saptak, exploring the full scale of this octave. The gentle emphasis on the undulating komal gandhar combined magically with the languorous meends along ma-sa and ga-ma-dha to convey the plangent romanticism and tragic yearning associated with this raga.

The slow khayal, “Eri pyari piya sang”, was set to ektaal, in ati vilambit laya. The unhurried yet playful exposition was reminiscent of the manner of the late Amir Khan. The slowness of the tempo enabled Rashid Khan to extract a range of emotions from a handful of notes, so that every return to the sam felt like a journey across oceanic expanses. The dwelling on individual swaras, the caressing meends and pukars were set off by the dazzling murkis, phirats and chhuts. In all this the command over harmony and sense was impeccable. The bol-banao in this section also brought back memories of A.T. Kanan.

Nearly 40 minutes into the slow movement, the pancham, a vakra swara in Bageshree, was introduced through circuitous turns of phrase: ma pa, ma pa dha ga. Perhaps it was repeated a little too often for a note that is only vestigial to the raga. The madhyalaya jhaptaal tarana, which followed the slow khayal, featured some excellent sargams and taans that ripped across the music like flashes of lightening. The recital ended with the drut ektaal khayal, “Apni garaj pakar lena bainyan mori”, sung feelingly, keeping alive the drama suggested by the lyrics.

Khan began, next, with Darbari Kanada, singing an aochar to usher in the mood of this majestic raga. His interpretation was rather striking, in that the pathos and the gravitas that lace this raga were overridden by a lively, spirited rendition. The vilambit khayal, “Aaj raat ko”, was haunting in its simplicity. Khan consciously preserved the grandeur of the raga by avoiding unwarranted embellishments. The meditative slow movement gave way to the sprightly gait of the madhyalaya teentaal khayal, “Kin bairan kaan bhare”. Khan explored the full potential of the self-dramatizing quality of this composition by intelligent variations of tone and emphasis. The concluding fast khayal, “Jhanan jhanan payal baaje”, in drut ektaal, heavily coated with sapat taans and gamaks, provided the ideal palette to exhibit vocal virtuosity. The final offering was a couple of compositions in the beautiful night raga, Sohini, ushering in feelings of viraha, desire and pining associated with spring-time romance.

The second half of the night be- gan with a sitar recital by Shahid Pervez. He began with raga Sahana Kanada. For the first few minutes, the audience was expectedly confused because of the similarities between Bageshree, Darbari and Sahana Kanada, and more so because Pervez had not announced the name of the raga. The experience, however, had its own delightful quality as well, because of the sudden reappearance and departures of phrases heard in the earlier ragas. The signature phrases — ni-pa, ma-pa, ga-ma-dha, dha-ni-pa — kept surfacing all along the main octave, and as harmony in the upper and lower scales. It must be admitted, however, that in spite of the sweetness of Pervez’s style, the delicate, lyrical beauty of his sitar, there was something amiss in the performance.

Neither was there any gamak, which one had expected in a raga of Carnatic origin, nor was the effortless facility of Pervez’s phrase-making evident. Pervez is known as a weaver of magical tunes, one who keeps his audience anticipating, delighting them one moment with lilting melodies and bursting forth in the next with a torrent of taans. Which is why his performance, last Tuesday, felt so flat and predictable, with only the shades of his genius lingering along. Even the usually crystalline taans were somewhat hazy and inaccurate.

The famous bandish, “Sundara angana baithi”, kept coming back every now and then, although it did not quite succeed in invoking the lyrical beauty of the gayaki-ang. The gat compositions — in char taal ki sawari, drut ektaal and teentaal — were deftly played. The com- position in Bhairavi was also played competently.