You can play with music.
In the second gallery of the Indian Music Experience Museum (IME), we spot Thyagaraja, and soon after, Bangalore Nagarathnamma, both of whom feature in Issue #5 of LURU: The Music Edit. We, the LURU newsletter team — are on a visit to IME when we come across a horde of voices from Bengaluru, each one special in their own way.
The two classical singers, who feature in Prathibha Nandakumar’s ‘I, Bangalore’, appear in displays that are far apart. Thyagaraja is one of the most influential names in Carnatic music — his figure occupies centre-spot in the map of gurus that IME helpfully displays, while Nagarathnamma, who devoted her life to him, occupies space in the section simply titled, ‘Preserving Tradition: Devadasis’. Through the headphones placed in front of her image, we listen to her voice for the first time. Somewhat deep and full of emotion, it transports us to a different time. IME is a weave across centuries, and it’s a game to find names we recognise and people we’ve heard of before.
From the top
The experience begins with the silence outside. There are two people parked in the Sound Garden, which has life-sized instruments for visitors to experiment with. The sounds they make are pleasant, soft, and we decide to get to them later. At 200 rupees a ticket, we’re handed tags to wear on the wrist, and we’re immediately thrust into the gig-world.
We begin with the contemporary. Indian music is vast and points to traditions across time, culture, and geography. A video display in a circular theatre introduces us to the history of sound. Cartoon Network-like animations spell out the sound of animals and the music that constantly plays around us. From here, Gallery 1 beckons. Simply titled ‘Contemporary Expressions’, the gallery is an evolving history of Indian music as it’s being written today. From the ‘bold experiments’ of AR Rahman that changed music in Indian cinema, to a picture of Palace Grounds being celebrated as the one-stop destination for metal gigs in Bangalore. The expanse is impressive and just goes to describe the cacophony that is Indian music.
Staying in tune
We move from one artist to the other, helpfully handheld by headphones that play the moment of time being described. As is expected from infrastructure in India, some of the headphones are broken, and the Bengali family ahead of us keeps picking them up accidentally. But we’re not limited to simply listening, there are displays with recordings of different instruments, and you get to layer different sounds together to create melodies that define the time period in question. We create one (on the Hybrid Sounds screen) that is layered with the sounds of the sitar, tabla, saxophone, and a darbuka, which is a goblet drum that we’ve never heard of before. It’s a decent rhythm — we feel like musicians.
From here, we step into Gallery 2: the Origins of Indian Music. Carnatic music, which has its roots in the southern Indian states, has a coloured history that has emerged from the nooks and crannies around us. There are timelines and histories layered on, and music seems to emerge from every corner of the display. The headphones in front of each exhibit are playing music, raags and talas that come together and converge in us — the viewer. Before you leave this gallery, learn how to play the tabla. The LED screen will tell you exactly when to play the beat.
The Instruments Gallery between the third and second floors is a treat. The LED displays exactly the same layout in front of us, full of instruments that force you to crane your neck to make sure you see all of them. But the display allows us to pick the instrument that interests us and play its sounds, learn the names of its parts. From the saxophone to the veena, take your pick.
Resounding notes
We rush on, there are still six more galleries to look at. Galleries three through nine show us the ways in which music occupies moments in time, from the freedom movement and protest music, to the evolution of cinema music, to the close associations we make between music and special occasions in our lives. There are cultural descriptions with the accompanying music to really immerse you in the moment. We move from a hard-plastic print of the national song written in Tagore’s handwriting to Amitabh Bachchan’s popularising of the ‘angry young man’ trope in Bollywood. From one step to the other, there are songs that earmark each theme so you’re taken back to that era and feel like you’re there; especially fascinating are the literal holes-in-the-wall that make you feel like you are actually peeping into a different world.
After this, we find ourselves back at the entrance — in front of the Sound Garden. It’s free to use, and the instruments have simple instructions standing alongside. It’s fascinating to see how the bar is different from a wave, and what happens to a note when the size of the gong is just a tad bit tiny. IME is a Bengaluru fixture, the first of its kind. So treat yourself and look for the Bengaluru within the Indian, and you’ll find that there’s plenty. If you’re still not sure, buy a LURU Issue #5 and find the history of a playfully musical city.
PS: If you find an auto in the middle of Gallery 1, take a seat and watch Thermal And A Quarter jam away. It’ll take you back to them closing out the finale of The Music Edit Launch Festival for LURU Issue #5.
The details: The Indian Music Experience Museum is located at Brigade Millenium, JP Nagar, 7th Phase. Tuesday-Friday, 10 am – 6 pm & Saturday & Sunday, 11am – 7 pm.
Image courtesy: The Indian Music Experience Museum
N°05Latest issueIssue 05: The Music EditInside Issue 05, you’ll find a series of Listening Sessions, in which musicians interview each other. Ft. Vasu + Raghu Dixit, MD Pallavi + Bruce Lee Mani, Chintan (Inner Sanctum) + Rohit (Kryptos), Krantinaari + Pasha Bhai.₹1,250
