JEFF WHITTIER began his study of North Indian classical flute in 1971 at the Ali Akbar College of Music in San Rafael, California with G.S. Sachdev. He performs the Indian classical tradition called “Gayaki Ang” or the style of playing based on Hindustani vocal music. As well as being a performer and teacher of the bansuri, or bamboo flute, he is also a master craftsman of the instrument. In a 50-year career of flute-making, he has provided flutes to some of the most famous musicians of India, including Pt. Vijay Raghav Rao, G. S. Sachdev and Pt. Hari Prasad Chaurasia. His flutes are also used in the orchestras of Broadway shows including “The Lion King,” Miss Saigon” and “Aida.” Interviewed by Leslie Schneider.
How did you become interested in Indian music?
- During 1967 I was living in Haight-Ashbury when Ravi Shankar gave his performance at the Monterey Pop Festival. The next morning, the Grateful Dead blared the reel-to-reel tape of that performance out of their window on Haight Street. A large crowd formed in the street to listen to it, including me. As far as I can remember, that was the 1st time I ever heard Indian classical music. A few weeks later Linda Ronstadt and Kenny Edwards of The Stone Ponies, who were friends of my roommate, brought a sitar to our apartment. Kenny was trying to learn how to play it, à la George Harrison. There was a record shop in the South of Market neighborhood which carried a few Indian records for $2.99 each, and I bought LP’s of Sharan Rani playing Lalit & Kaunsi Kanara, Panna Lal Ghosh’s Shri & Yaman, Pt. Ramnarain’s Patdeep with a dhun in Khammaj, and the Ali Brothers singing Kalavati & Gawoti. I listened to those recordings over and over, which is why I still remember them today. That was my introduction to Indian classical music.
What made you want to devote yourself to Indian music?
- In the late 60’s I lived at Mt. Shasta. I became interested in bansuri and met a disciple of Panna Lal Ghosh’s son-in-law Devindra Murdeshwar who showed me the basics of bansuri playing and manufacture. At that time I had friends who were studying at the Ali Akbar College of Music in Berkeley and they gave me material to practice. In 1971 I began studying full time with G. S. Sachdev and Ust. Ali Akbar Khan at AACM. During the first 5 years or so of that study, I had the time to practice three or four hours a day and developed the basic knowledge of flute music and technique. After about 5 years of that, I realized how much I didn’t know and had to make a decision as to whether or not I would put in the time and effort to complete the task. Obviously, I decided to go ahead, but now almost 50 years into it, I know it will never be complete. The more you know, the more you see needs to be done. I’m still making progress, though. Daily riaz is so much a part of my life I don’t feel right if I don’t practice.
- In 1975 I found the bamboo on Kauai which I have used to make bamboo flutes ever since. It was not native to Hawaii but it was brought by the ancient Polynesians who used it for a variety of purposes. They planted the stands of bamboo I use more than 1,000 years ago. As of right now, 2018, I have made about 41,000 flutes. About 32,000 of those were made from the bamboo I cut myself in Hanakapiai, a valley on Kauai. About 1,000 were made from the same species from Fiji, another 6,000 from a related species imported to me from Assam, with the rest being from various sources. Good flute bamboo has long nodes with a meter or so between the knots. Hanakapiai is my home-away-from-home and I feel a deep connection to it. I’ve spent about a year of my life there cutting bamboo. Now I’m getting old to carry 40-pound backpacks of green bamboo, but I’m still there in spirit. Today I make a number of different kinds of flutes, and several Broadway musicals such as The Lion King and Miss Saigon use my flutes in their orchestras. In flutemaking I’ve branched out somewhat away from Indian music, but I still only perform classical and light classical pieces. For myself, I’m not interested in fusion, but I make flutes for many fusion players.
Do you also teach this oral tradition and feel a responsibility to help others to learn and sustain the musical form for the future?
- After I had studied for about 20 years, I began teaching. Here in Silicon Valley, there is a large population of South Asians, and most of my students are Indian, with the occasional Pakistani and Afghan. I teach in the traditional way, by ear, and with endless repetitions. I begin with easy material and gradually move to more difficult pieces and rags. On bansuri, we play the Komal notes – the flatted notes – by partially opening the holes, and that is a difficult technique to master. I try to establish a respect for classicism in my students. Many people today fail to distinguish between the rag and the scale used for the rag. That is to say, they simply regard the rag as a scale or mode. In truth, every rag has its own vocabulary and grammar, and people don’t want to put the practice in to master that. Each rag has been defined and refined by generations of master musicians who played that rag and has hidden nuances which must be learned from someone who is proficient in the tradition. Indian music has been cheapened by people who simply reduce the rag to a scale.
How is teaching itself also valuable to you as a performing artist?
- Teaching music is a vast experiment in cognitive science. Each student learns differently. A teacher has to try to find the method or material which will allow the individual student to progress. In that way, you have to be your own best critic. A common-sense constant reappraisal of whatever you’re playing and teaching is constantly in order. There are at least two different kinds of practice. The first is improving and mastering the material in which one is already proficient and the second is trying to assimilate new skills and material. There’s always something else to work on. The skill of self-evaluation is critical for the student, teacher, and performer.
What are some of the insights you have gained from daily practice and the betterment of your craft both as an artisan and performer/teacher?
- The thing I tell my students over and over is, “When you get the piece right, that’s the beginning of your practice, not the end of it.” However well one plays, one can always make it better. With flutemaking, the most important factor is respect for the bamboo itself. The flutemaker cannot simply impose his will on the bamboo. I have learned to pay close attention to each piece of bamboo in order to bring the best flute out of it. Probably the first 1,000 flutes I made, around 1970-72, weren’t very good. Then I got the hang of it. Bamboo is an irregular substance. It’s not like a pipe or a plastic tube. Those irregularities can ruin a flute, but they can also enhance it if handled well. No two flutes are exactly alike, just like people. The principles of acoustic science must guide flutemaking, yet at the heart, it remains an art.
Have you noticed changes in the audiences for the music or in the students teach over the last few years or more?
- Teaching music is a vast experiment in cognitive science. Each student learns differently. A teacher has to try to find the method or material which will allow the individual student to progress. In that way, you have to be your own best critic. A common-sense constant reappraisal of whatever you’re playing and teaching is constantly in order. There are at least two different kinds of practice. The first is improving and mastering the material in which one is already proficient and the second is trying to assimilate new skills and material. There’s always something else to work on. The skill of self-evaluation is critical for the student, teacher, and performer.