When Mukund Nayak found out he had won this year鈥檚 Padma Shri, one of India鈥檚 highest civilian awards, he immediately called聽聽to offer his congratulations.
Carol Babiracki and Mukund Nayak, shown holding his 2017 Padma Shri medal
鈥淣o, no. The congratulations should go to you,鈥� replied his longtime friend and colleague, who is an ethnomusicologist in the College of Arts and Sciences and the director of the聽聽in the Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs. 鈥淭his award is for you, too.鈥�
An associate professor in the聽聽(AMH) in the , Babiracki has known Nayak since 1981, when he was a low-paid state worker in what is now the East Indian state of Jharkhand. Since then, both have climbed the ranks of their respective professions, while mining the region鈥檚 millennia-old folk performance traditions.
That Nayak accepted the award on the eve of India鈥檚 68th Republic Day in January gave citizens鈥攁nd Babiracki鈥攐ne more reason to celebrate. The award underscored, among other things, the role of traditional arts and culture in India鈥檚 march toward economic prosperity.
鈥淩egional music lives on in India because it embodies a wide range of values pertaining to community, locality, rituals and gender,鈥� says Babiracki, an A&S faculty member since 1999. 鈥淩egional performance is a bellwether of social and cultural identity-formation and of processes of change.鈥�
Arguably, no one is synonymous with Jharkhandi arts and culture more than Nayak, a 67-year-old singer, songwriter, drummer, dancer and political activist. He and Babiracki, a scholar-teacher of South Asian music and dance, have spent nearly four decades documenting the endangered or marginal performance traditions of East-Central India. Their current project concerns the traditional village musician caste of the Ghasi.
Consigned to the lowest rung of the local caste hierarchy, Ghasis are usually poor and illiterate. Nayak is the exception to the latter. A polyglot fluent in English, he is one of only a few to have graduated from the village聽akhra聽(an outdoor, circular dancing ground) to the urban stage, while preserving his rural musical sensibilities.
鈥淢ukund and I are capturing what鈥檚 left of these village traditions鈥攖heir unwritten histories, their indigenous identities, their contributions to a pan-ethnic, regional musical lingua franca鈥攆or an upcoming book,鈥� says Babiracki, the author of several other publications, as well as dozens of scholarly articles and chapters. 鈥淗e learned his art as a child in the course of collective singing and dancing. One can hear these roots in his dense, edgy vocal style.鈥�
Nayak resides in the bustling capital of Ranchi. His musical language and style, however, recall the Nagpuri music traditions of southwestern Jharkhand.
鈥淣agpuri鈥� is a geographical term, referring to the Chota Nagpur Plateau that covers most of Jharkhand and its adjoining states. “Chota Nagpur” is a nod to the Nagavanshi, a dynasty that ruled the area from the 11th to 14th centuries. “‘Nag’ in ‘Nagavanshi’ alludes to people from West-Central India, such as Maharashtra, or to the Nag clan of the local Mundas,” Babiracki says. “It is likely they intermarried.”
Nayak plays the “nagara” drum outside his home in Ranchi. (Photo by Prishant Mitra / The Telegraph)
She considers Nayak鈥檚 approach to regional music sophisticated and mature鈥攈eavy on the percussion and on rhythms and meters that are unusual by Western standards. The result is a rich body of composed, cultivated music. 鈥淢ukund embodies these traits because he comes from a long hereditary line of professional, multi-talented performers,鈥� Babiracki continues. 鈥淗e is my most valued source of information about Nagpuri music.鈥�
With support from A&S, she has interviewed scores of Nagpuri musicians and dancers, including Nayak鈥檚 children. Among them are his older son, Nandu, a renowned singer and drummer; Nayak鈥檚 younger son, Pradhuman, a U.S.-based singer, dancer and actor; and Nayak鈥檚 youngest daughter, Chandrakanta, a singer and women鈥檚 rights advocate.
Babiracki is known for her interest in historiography (i.e., the study of history) and in issues of gender, ethnic identity and globalization. It鈥檚 no surprise that her collaboration with Nayak is highly interdisciplinary. Witness recent projects on the life histories and performances of聽nacnis(professional female entertainers in East-Central India) and the role of Nagpuri women in urban stage and mass media performances.
鈥淐arol has a hands-on, collaborative approach to research that invites musicians to be partners, not subjects,鈥� says Romita Ray, associate professor of art history and chair of AMH. 鈥淭his encourages musical and cultural sustainability, often in the face of outward modernization. She is both a scholar and an activist, working with musicians with whom she has built close relationships over the past few decades and preserving folk traditions that have been nurtured for generations.鈥�
Babiracki first met Nayak in southern Bihar (which eventually seceded to form Jharkhand), while doing preliminary dissertation research. He was a star of the Nagpuri stage鈥攕he, a Ph.D. student at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, exploring Munda tribal music and dance traditions.
鈥淸Nayak] quickly pulled me into his stage troupe, a group consisting, for the most part, of Ghasi men, and I subsequently traveled throughout the area, performing Nagpuri songs on bamboo flute with them in village stage performances,鈥� she recalls in 鈥溾€� (Oxford University Press, 2008), co-edited by Gregory F. Barz and Timothy J. Cooley. 鈥淢y perceptions of Nagpuri music-culture were colored by Mukund鈥檚 own representation and interpretation.鈥�
Performing turned out to be Babiracki鈥檚 respite from 鈥渋ntellectualizing and interviewing鈥� and from the stress of adapting to the Munda鈥檚 鈥渋ntense collectivism and censorship of behavior.鈥� The experience also complemented her formal training in flute, piano and voice at the University of Minnesota.
Babiracki and Nayak (far right) jam with the legendary Mahavir Sahu on harmonium.
Babiracki rejoined Nayak in the late 鈥�80s to establish an indigenous performing troupe and school in Jharkhand called Kunjban. Before long, she began assisting the group with tours of the United States, southeastern China (e.g., Hong Kong) and the Philippines.
Nayak achieved success as a singer-songwriter, but it was his role as a social activist, providing the soundtrack for Jharkhand鈥檚 independence, which led to many honors, including the Padma Sri award. One political activist dubbed him the 鈥減hilosopher鈥� of the autonomy movement.
鈥淢ukund鈥檚 protest songs were rallying points for the movement, resulting in Jharkhand鈥檚 statehood in 2000,鈥� Babiracki says. 鈥淗e has since evolved into a cultural activist, working toward the sustainability of the local arts that have lost their traditional patronage support systems.鈥�
Babiracki has returned to Jharkhand a dozen times, often for months at a stretch. (One visit lasted more than a year, thanks to support from the U.S. Department of Education鈥檚 Fulbright-Hays program.) Through it all, Nayak has remained her touchstone of original Nagpuri music. 鈥淢y place in Jharkhand always is onstage or backstage, but rarely in the audience,鈥� says Babiracki, who maintains close ties to Kunjban as a performer, choreographer and videographer.
A highly decorated professor, with a Meredith teaching award to her name, Babiracki resides at the nexus of traditional and modern music. Her main objective, she says, is to expose students to the 鈥減henomenal diversity鈥� of Indian regional music. She does this by creating a highly participatory classroom environment鈥攐ften 鈥減osing questions, searching for understanding and considering music not simply as an autonomous object, but as [something] integral to regional community practices and identities.鈥�
PowerPoint may have a place in her classroom, but so do funky, old tape decks and turntables. The sight of Babiracki clearing away desks and chairs to make room for an akhra is a common occurrence. Such impromptu performing, she says, humanizes Jharkhandi music. It also puts her students on equal ground鈥攎uch as akhras do in her adopted homeland, some 9,000 miles away.
鈥淭he unfamiliar becomes our own,鈥� she smiles. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a powerful way to study something.鈥�
