Ray-esque | Satyajit Ray's passion for western classical music

Satyajit Ray and Western Classical music were inseparable. He was, in fact, inclined toward this genre of music from his teens. From very early on, when he was young, Ray began acquiring Western Classical albums.

“Father used to purchase, let’s say, part of a symphony when he was armed with some funds. And, then add the rest when he had a little more cash. It was impossible for him in his young days to buy an entire symphony at one go. In those days, there were wax records which were slightly bigger than the 78 RPM albums. Father would also buy these records,” informs Sandip, film maker and Satyajit Ray’s son. “When this interest grew on him, he would visit music stores in Calcutta like Braganza to pick up printed notations of the compositions he had acquired. These notations were available in those days in outlets like Braganza. Father used to listen to the compositions in tandem with perusing over the notations. That’s how he became familiar with Western notations and the approach to pen them himself,” he enlightens.

Then, when the Shantiniketan and Kala Bhavan phase ensued, the master became close with Alex Aronson, one of his professors, who was also deep into Western Classical music. Although Aronson was much more senior in age, the two befriended each other because of their mutual and devout admiration for Western Classical music. Aronson also owned a piano and played it brilliantly. Satyajit Ray would drop by at his residence and listen to him reeling out various compositions.

“The affair with this musical form began long before his turning into a film director. When he joined the advertising firm D.G. Keymer and began earning a salary, he embarked on picking up complete symphonies, sonatas and concertos or pieces revolving around solo performances. The interest in notations also flowered further. He was gradually developing a command over them,” Sandip says. “In any case, the Rays were a musical family. And, it transpired that even mother’s (Bijoya Ray) family was extremely musically talented. Mother had also happened to record some songs with her sisters. In fact, Western Classical music was a major fulcrum in the relationship between mother and father blooming even more. Both nurtured an unalloyed admiration for this musical form,” reveals Sandip.

The trip to London with wife Bijoya Ray while working at Keymer’s, was another crucial period, both workwise and as far as Ray’s artistic interests go. He not only watched a whole sweep of films, but travelled to the Continent and to Austria and Vienna to catch up on Western Classical concerts after his stint in London was over.

“Father and mother went over to a performance of (Mozart’s) Magic Flute. The auditorium was packed. A gentleman sold two tickets to father, but when my parents approached the entrance, the usher said that the tickets were fake,” Sandip says with amusement. “Then, the usher, on learning that both had journeyed all the way from India, asked his colleagues to find them two special seats to watch the concert. The two made an effort to visit as many concerts as they could,” informs Sandip.

Then. Satyajit Ray and his wife returned to India and Calcutta. The master’s movie-making phase took off a little after that. But, according to Sandip, his illustrious father kept listening to Western Classical records whenever he got a break from film work. His two constant favourites till the end were Ludwig Van Beethoven and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. But, together with these immortal Western Classical greats, he heard a variety of composers which embraced Johann Sebastian Bach, Johannes Brahms, Joseph Haydn amongst others. Ray’s first radio talk on his passion for Western Classical music was titled ‘What Beethoven Means To Me’.

“Going back to father’s early life again for a moment, one needs to mention an experience he had as a young teenager. He was naturally living in their ancestral home on Garpar Road (in north Calcutta) then. Among several other books in the study was an entire volume of the Book of Knowledge. Flipping through the pages, father had come across a portrait of Beethoven. This portrait left an indelible impression on him. Thus, a serious interest took root to acquire albums of Beethoven when he grew older. When he had already turned to movie making, some of father’s friends also harboured this interest. So, he shared notes with them,” Sandip underscores.

Western Classical composers and their creations also had a major role to play when the maestro turned to composing music for his films. This began with Teen Kanya (The Three Daughters). Monihara, one of the short films in Teen Kanya, reflected the tremendous influence of Western Classical music on Satyajit Ray. “He believed in film music compositions laced with fusion. While composing film music, he chose both Western strings and Indian instruments. Samapti, another sequel in Teen Kanya, throws up compositions created with violins, Indian and percussion instruments. The mood of a film dictated the compositions. In Postmaster, the opening film in Teen Kanya, a folk musician was asked to play different tunes, with Ray bringing him abreast of the varied moods of the film and then sections of this rendition (by this performer) were selected and arranged. The same approach was followed with Ray’s maiden film, Pather Panchali (The Song of the Little Road). Pandit Ravi Shankar, the composer of the background score, came up with selections from different ragas depending on his interaction with father about the moods in various segments of the film. In turn, Satyajit Ray picked portions from the ragas and used them in the film,” illumines Sandip. Monihara was heavily loaded with the master’s assimilation of Western Classical music, although he largely and essentially improvised a Rabindranath Tagore song, Baje Karuno Shure. “In fact, after Teen Kanya, father became surer of his approach to film music compositions,” Sandip observes.

In the same breath, he goes on to comment that his father’s film music pieces were ‘quintessential Ray’. They did not overly exhibit a Beethoven or a Mozart. “But, his training was rooted in Western Classical music. He would sometimes compose a particular film music piece and observe that this was his tribute to Mozart or Beethoven. But, if one listened to that composition, you wouldn’t tell where Mozart was hiding. He would also come up with observations like the orchestration of a particular composition was influenced by Mozart. Maybe, a note or counter-melody in a Mozart composition had triggered a form of orchestration in father’s mind when he was composing a particular score,” Sandip says with incisiveness.

A Satyajit Ray film music composition, says Sandip, was unique. One couldn’t confuse it with anyone else’s. The arrangement of instruments stood out. This is a rare instance of a film director performing both roles. The master was completely self-taught as far as even this department of film making was concerned. He hadn’t attended any curriculum in a music school. It was entirely self-grooming.

“Ideas for scoring music were floating into his mind from Pather Panchali itself. So, finally, he decided to take over this preoccupation, too. In fact, to start with, he would score music in Western notations. But, then discovered that several Indian musicians were habituated only to Bengali notations. So, the conductor, who may have been familiar with Western notations, was converting them to Bengali and handing out the scores to the musicians,” Sandip informs.

“Father found this to be a time-consuming process and an unnecessary frittering away of energy and time. So, he focused on picking up Bengali notations and scoring music through this altered approach. He composed film music with Western notations from Teen Kanya to Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne (The Adventures of Goopy and Bagha), that is 1961-68. After Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne, he switched to Bengali notations,” says Sandip, lending an insight into his father’s method of scoring music.

“The only exercise he wouldn’t indulge in much was that of a music conductor. While the musicians performed the compositions, he preferred to sit at the console to keep track of the balancing. Those were times when the full ensemble performed together. It wasn’t piecemeal recording of instruments on different tracks and then marrying them like today,” stresses Sandip.

Charulata’s (The Lonely Wife) music score is another evidence of Satyajit Ray’s savouring the Western Classical form. Though, again Ray builds his score on a single Rabindra Sangeet song, Mama Chitte, Nritte Nritte. Music for Ray’s city (Calcutta centric) films draw heavily on Western music. Ashani Sanket (Distant Thunder), being rural-based, leans more toward Indian musical forms. But, in step, while composing the concluding score for the film, Ray can be seen falling back on his deep sense of Western music.

“Each of my father’s film music scores excel on their own. Someone with a certain level of musical sensibility can demarcate the music of one film from the other. They are exclusive to each other. The theme and sub-themes of each film are special. But, variations father brought off on these themes take one’s breath away. Father, for instance, worked on a particular theme in Jana Aranya (The Middleman), another city film directed by Ray. But, this theme, very Western in style, keeps coming back in the film with variegated variations. Finally, the film ends on an extremely somber note, with the same theme introduced with a grim colouring,” Sandip elucidates.

Interestingly, as Satyajit Ray progressed in his film making life, he cut down on music scores. In fact, even in his early days, he incorporated music in junctures in a film which called for it. Sometimes, he had done away with a certain music score during mixing even after allowing it to be placed on the track at the time of mixing. He felt the atmosphere in a particular sequence was enough to drive home the mood. “Unused music pieces still remain in stock,” says Sandip.

This writer has had privilege of being present at Satyajit Ray’s music recordings at HMV studio. At the music recording of Agantuk (The Stranger), Ray’s last film, he was sitting beside the master and listening to the recording of various compositions. In the sequence where the lawyer (played by Dhritiman Chatterjee confronts the stranger (enacted by Utpal Dutt), the background score seemed to exude a strong influence of Beethoven. When this writer shared his thoughts on this score with Ray, he remarked: “Isn’t it (the composition) good?”

Sandip goes on to inform that his great father had “experimented” on several occasions while scoring music and in various ways. “People sometimes miss out on fathoming this experimentation. Father had even reversed and played Western Classical albums in a few films. He had adopted this technique, for example, in Jalsaghar (The Music Room). While Jalsaghar’s overall music was composed by Ustad Vilayat Khan, there were moments in the film which father felt demanded a background score for which Vilayat Khan had not scored a musical composition. Father had also gone for the reverse method with Western Classical records in Paras Pathar (The Philosopher’s Stone), but no one could figure this out while watching the film,” reveals Sandip.

Then, when Satyajit Ray acquired a Uher tape-recorder, he had embarked on a good deal of improvisation while penning the score. The speed of a spool in the Uher could be changed in four different ways. This allowed Ray to improvise while playing music. After a music recording session was through, Ray got all the music ‘takes’ transferred to the Uher. In turn, Ray played the music on his Uher in his study at four disparate speed levels and came up with variations.

“An instance that comes to mind immediately is the hypnotism sequence in Sonar Kella (The Golden Fortress). That music was heard in the film at a slowed down speed,” informs Sandip. “A hurdle which father would often face was not being armed with a particular Western instrument he would have liked to put to use for a certain score. Instruments like the oboe, for instance. String instrumentalists, who played the violin, were, of course, available. But, their efficiency in playing the violin varied. But, brass instrumentalists like the oboe, trombone, bassoon, trumpet or horn players were virtually absent during father’s time. He used the trombone in Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne when Goopy and Bagha magically landed in the snowsape. That musical motif drew blood from the Western Classical genre. Instrumentalists who played Western instruments gradually left for Mumbai and, in time, dwindled. Father, in fact, had to source a cellist from Chennai, who later also played for me,” says Sandip, dwelling on the obstacles one faced if the background score was inspired by Western Classical music. Sometimes, otherwise skilled performers failed to adapt to film music, which was another roadblock for Satyajit Ray.

A very early version of the keyboard was called the Univox. The Univox enjoyed the room for various tones. One was the Oboe. Satyajit Ray chanced upon a Univox player through his conductor, Aloke Nath Dey. This Univox player had performed in various films directed by the maestro, especially in the sixties. Later, Ray used slightly improved keyboard brands, together with the Vibraphone. He scored his music tuned to acoustic instruments since one rarely saw an electronic musical instrument at that time.

“It wasn’t viable, budget wise, to fly across instrumentalists from Mumbai or Chennai. Therefore, father would look for an alternate option in Calcutta. He was always mindful of the logistics. Of course, he expressed regret sometimes in not succeeding to use a particular Western instrument. That, however, did not prevent him from creating extraordinary compositions with the best of players performing for him at one time. In step with Pandit Ravi Shankar, Ustad Ali Akbar Khan and Ustad Vilayat Khan who composed music for father, the sarod player Ashish Khan and sitarist Nikhil Banerjee played for father. Not to mention Jalshaghar which found the cream of musicians and artistes of the day in the realm of Indian Classical music performing for him,” says Sandip with a tinge of pride.

James Ivory and Ismail Merchant had invited Satyajit Ray to score the music for the Merchant-Ivory Production, Shakespeare Wallah. This was in 1965. The three were very close to each other. So, Ray naturally agreed. The master composed glowing musical pieces for this film which were extremely Victorian in mood and texture. Shakespeare Wallah established for posterity that Ray was clued on to Western Classical compositions of various forms and genres. There were and are unmatched string compositions, together, of course, with other instrumental pieces in the film. Ray’s scores for the violin leave one without words. “Father enjoyed the musicianship of Stanley Gomez, a very adept and well-known violinist in those days,” informs Sandip.

Then, of course, the Western Classical creations that Satyajit Ray used in Shakha Proshakha (Branches of a Tree), which embraced Johann Sebastian Bach’s Gregorian Chant, drove home Ray’s “vast knowledge” of Western music, according to Sandip. The compositions were farmed out to the maestro by Tosca Du Plantier of Erato Films. Erato held the copyright to the music CDs that Ray reached into.

“One needs to absorb the variety and range of father’s command, intellectually, of Western Classical compositions. His music score for Charulata and Shakespeare Wallah stand apart from each other. But, one can still pinpoint the man behind the scores if he or she is endowed with a musical ear. This, I feel, was an enormous achievement. If one keeps in mind that this indescribable gift emerged from total self-training and self-teaching,” says Sandip emphatically.

While shooting Chiriakhana (The Menagerie), the producer ran into a budget crunch when it came to the phase of music recording. Unfortunately, Uttam Kumar, the protagonist and Bengal’s famed megastar fell ill during shooting. So, the sets had to be pulled down and rebuilt when Uttam Kumar recovered. “Therefore, when the producer expressed his helplessness to dole out more funds, father asked him if he could foot the bill for father to spend an entire day at Grand Hotel. The producer agreed.”

So, he packed a suitcase with a xylophone and few more percussion instruments which were in his possession, picked up his ever-faithful Uher and strode off to Grand Hotel. He spent a day and night recording his compositions in the Uher and returned home. He recorded a few more piano pieces back home, varying the speed in the Uher, and Chiriakhana’s music recording was wrapped up. The recorded pieces were, in turn, transferred to the optical track from the Uher and matched with the film. Only a song in the film, which was also composed by my father, was recorded in the studio. He was a one-man band,” Sandip says, sounding an exclamatory note. “No one probably will believe this even today!”

Satyajit Ray would keep track of ratings and reviews of Western Classical compositions by leafing through the Penguin and Gramophone Company catalogues. He used to primarily look out for the Penguin catalogue on a consistent basis and list the classical creations which he required to add to his collection. The next time he travelled overseas, he would be perfectly poised to zero in on the albums or music tapes he needed to acquire. There was no Internet in the maestro’s time to assist him readily with this exercise. So, one had to fall back always on books. “A little ahead of father’s journeying abroad, he would jot down the listed pieces in a notebook he carried with him. This notebook, of course, also encased sundry items like gifts he had to bring back for the family, relatives and friends,” explains Sandip.

Other than individual albums, Satyajit Ray had purchased a good deal of boxed sets, cassettes and the early CDs. CDs appeared when Ray was into the last phase of life. Bringing one abreast of the manner in which Ray’s classical collection has been stored now, Sandip says they are all archived. “One needs to engage in playing the cassettes at spaced out intervals to prevent them from getting jammed. In fact, I recall presenting a CD player to father on one of his birthdays,” recounts Sandip.

Calcutta had seen a period when a good many albums of Russian classical compositions were available in the city. Satyajit Ray’s chief assistant director, the late Ramesh Sen, would help out in fetching these records from the store for his mentor. Ray would equip Sen with a list of the Russian composers he desired to pick up.

“Father was blessed with a photographic memory, both audio and visual. He had heard a classical composition long back and was struck by it. But, he did not possess the album. Later in life, he recalled the piece in totality, wrote the notations from memory and sent them to a Western Classical connoisseur friend of his, inquiring whether it was Mozart’s composition. This authority on Western Classical music was astonished. He told father that it was a very early Mozart piece and aired his amazement about father’s memory,” Sandip exudes.

This writer remembers, with nostalgia, venturing into the master’s study to clarify the pronunciation of the complex name of a Western Classical composer. For instance, Dvorak or Saint-Saens. Ray would not only instantly come up with the apt pronunciation, but inquire whether I harboured some Dvorak and Saint-Saens cassettes or albums. Today, those unforgettable evenings and moments drift back to the mind.

Ashoke Nag is a veteran writer on art and culture with a special interest in legendary filmmaker Satyajit Ray.

All images from Satyajit Ray Society.

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