PHOTOS: RICHIE DOWNS | At ten minutes past 8pm this past Friday, Anoushka Shankar walked barefoot onto the stage at Lisner Auditorium and sat down on a slightly raised platform in the center of the stage. Clad in a version of traditional Indian clothing—bright pink pants, an iridescent green tunic—Shankar crossed her legs and picked up her sitar. Bathed in a soft blue spotlight and dwarfed by the size of her instrument, the audience’s eyes riveted on Shankar—and rarely wandered during her two-hour set.
From a young age, Shankar trained under her father, the world-renowned Indian composer and sitar player Ravi Shankar. While Ravi kept widely to traditional Indian music, Anoushka’s compositions have a wider range from time-honored to contemporary, incorporating electronic beats, experimental instruments, and modern lyrics. Given that Anoushka grew up in London and Delhi and went to high school in Southern California, it is of little surprise that her sound is often labeled world music. Shankar has been nominated for multiple Grammy awards and has collaborated several times with half-sister Norah Jones, including on her most recent album, October’s Traces of You.
For sitar neophytes like myself, this contextual background on her family and training certainly helps. But a working knowledge of traditional Indian music certainly isn’t necessary to be enthralled by the beauty and complexity of her compositions.
On stage, Shankar was joined by a talented five-person ensemble. Pirashanna Thevarajah was on Indian percussion while Sanjeev Shankar played the shehnai, an Indian wind instrument. Two cellists were also onstage, Danny Keane and Ayanna Witter-Johnson. Witter-Johnson also sang lead vocals on the few songs with lyrics, and her confident, powerful voice provided some of the most unexpected highlights of the night. Manu Delago rounded the group out on percussions as well as on Hang—an instrument developed in Switzerland just a dozen years ago that could have easily been mistaken for something centuries-old. While it resembles a steel drum, the Hang provides a softer, more nuanced sound that beautifully complemented the timbre of the sitar.
Shankar provided a brief explanation before many of her songs, including the title, the number of beats, and the name of the traditional Indian style of the song. These introductions gave context for those of us less familiar with her musical roots and guided the audience in how best to listen and appreciate the song while not being so long as to interrupt the feeling of serenity and appreciation that pervaded Lisner during her time on stage.
Shankar’s expertise in her instrument was evident throughout the show. Her fingers moved at lightening speed, gracefully and commandingly covering the length of the sitar even as the pace frantically increased, which it often did.
Her music skillfully weaves tradition with modernity, coming off as intensely innovative and emotional. The power of these emotions within her music is perhaps in fullest effect on her new album; her father passed away during its recording, clearly influencing the final product. Shankar played “The Sun Won’t Set,” recorded with Norah Jones, just a few songs into her set on Friday. With Witter-Jones deftly covering the lyrics, the ballad served as a moving and heartfelt tribute to Ravi Shankar—even more so upon the realization that Ravi means “sun” in Sanskrit.
Just a couple of songs later, Shankar played “In Jyoti’s Name,” a track written last December following the well-known, tragic gang rape of a young woman in Delhi which resulted in her death. With the sound of just the percussion and sitar at the beginning, the song starts fast and angry, a sense of anxious urgency coming through. As more instruments join in, the pace never faltered but the sound moved from frantic to strong and defiant, Shankar’s message and a reaction to the young woman’s death.
At the end of the set, the audience stood, giving Shankar an enthusiastic standing ovation. She graciously bowed to her fans and took a moment to honor her ensemble before running off the stage. It was the end of a show that seamlessly blended tradition and innovation, East and West, classic and contemporary—and all the while, in a way that was brilliantly and unfailingly beautiful and soulful.
