In the previous post, I ended with Mukund Lath’s central question: How do we understand the identity of an object whose very identity depends upon change? The raga, Lath argues, presents us with precisely such a case. At the heart of Indian classical music lies not the faithful or mechanical reproduction of a fixed sequence of svaras, but the unfolding of the raga as a “malleable”, “living” and “felt” musical form.
Yet, this living form comes into being afresh in every performance. The ‘object’ in a musical performance, as we noted earlier, is unlike the object in other arts. It is not a stable, given object like a sculpture or painting nor are any two renderings of the object the same. There is no given blue print for a raga. Lath is exploring the question of the identity of a constantly changing object, where the identity of the object cannot be imagined without change. Consider, for instance, raga Yaman. No two renderings of Yaman are, or indeed must be, identical. Each artist explores and unfolds the raga differently, bringing forth a distinctive aesthetic presence of the raga each time. And yet every successful performance by different artists (even by the same artist!) remains recognisably Yaman. The question, then, is not simply how difference is possible within identity, but where that difference resides. Lath’s philosophical achievement lies not merely in posing this question but in the way he searches for its answer. The problem of the raga’s identity, he suggests, lies in, what he calls its bhava-rupa.
The analytical distinction between nāda-rūpa and bhāva-rūpa forms the conceptual heart of Lath’s essay “Identity Through Necessary Change: The Raga as a Dynamic Object”. The nada-rupa, he defines, as the raga’s syntax or structure—the arrangement of specific svaras or its melodic framework, characteristic phrases, ascending and descending movements. It is what the student first learns and what allows us to recognise one raga as distinct from another. Without this melodic framework there can be no raga. Yet Lath notes that this melodic framework, however indispensable, does not exhaust the raga. No raga is merely the reproduction of given patterns or rules made possible by the framework. The nada-rupa might tell us what the raga is; it does not explain how the raga unfolds and comes alive. Bringing a raga into being always involves creatively seeking the raga-bhava, which lies beyond the given. This ‘living’ presence which is the interplay between the artist and the nada-rupa is what he calls the bhava-rupa, the “flesh and spirit of a nada-rupa,” brought about by the creative unfolding of the raga. The artist transforms the given structure and patterns into a unique and alive soundscape.
The term bhava-rupa should not be understood merely as the emotional response produced in the listener. Nor is it an invisible essence lurking behind the notes. Rather, the bhava-rupa is the raga as a living aesthetic form, the distinctive musical presence that gradually emerges only in performance. It is the imaginative aspect of the raga, the product of Kalpana. It is this that musicians seek to indicate and create through the alapa, the introductory, creative exploration where the raga is slowly evoked as a distinctive soundscape, inviting listeners to enter, dwell within, and savour its unfolding. The nada-rupa remains relatively stable across performances; it is the bhava-rupa that is continually renewed, and comes alive in a unique manner each time. It is here that one rendering differs from another, not because the framework has changed, but because the raga has found a new mode of realisation. Lath thus draws attention to the subtle relationship between the nada-rupa and the bhava-rupa of the raga—the former providing its melodic structure, the latter its living aesthetic realization. It is through the dynamic relationship of the given structure and the artist’s imagination that the raga comes into being in performance.
Lath’s essay can be read as an inquiry into the nature of bhava-rupa. He repeatedly reaches for familiar philosophical categories, trying to capture its nature. He speaks of the nada-rupa as containing the potential of the raga, with the bhava-rupa representing its actualization in performance. This captures the fact that the musician does not invent the raga at will but works within an already constituted melodic world. However, actualization might suggest that the finished form is already fully contained within the potential, waiting only to be unfolded. But no great performance is merely the execution of a pre-existing possibility. Every good performance brings something genuinely new into being. In another place, Lath describes the nada-rupa as the skeleton of the raga. The metaphor conveys that melodic framework is indispensable but lifeless by itself. In yet another place, it becomes the seed from which the raga grows. A seed contains possibilities, but no single tree exhausts those possibilities. Elsewhere, he speaks of the nada-rupa as the nucleus of the raga, suggesting not a finished object but a centre from which an inexhaustible plurality of performances may radiate, sometimes changing the nucleus itself. Each metaphor captures something and Lath offers a number of effective ways in which to think about the relation between the enduring nada-rupa and its endlessly varied musical embodiments. Together they reveal a creative, exploratory mind that is searching for an adequate language for a musical form whose identity consists in continuous change and renewal.
It is in this context that Lath’s understanding of raga assumes its full significance. The nada-rupa of the raga is not a set of restrictions imposed upon creativity. Rather, it establishes the conditions under which the bhava-rupa may emerge. The artist is neither reproducing a fixed object nor indulging in unrestricted improvisation. Every performance is a disciplined search for the living form of the raga. The nada-rupa or the melodic framework remains recognisable, but the bhava-rupa is never exhausted by any one realisation.
Lath’s philosophical contribution, then, is not simply the claim that the identity of the raga survives change. His deeper claim is that the identity of the raga is constituted through the continual emergence of its bhava-rupa. The nada-rupa provides continuity, but the bhava-rupa is the raga in its aesthetic realisation. The bhava-rupa can never be finally completed because no single performance can exhaust the aesthetic possibilities contained within the nada-rupa. Every unfolding realises some of these possibilities while leaving others to be explored and realised by other artists, or indeed by the same artist on another occasion.
Lath’s reflections on the raga as a musical form tells us that the raga can be approached from two complementary directions: as an object whose identity calls for philosophical explanation, and as a cultivated achievement whose realisation depends upon the acquisition of particular musical capacities. His analysis leaves open a further philosophical task. Having explained how the raga preserves its identity through the continual, ever-changing emergence of its bhava-rupa, we can now ask how does a musician realise this bhava-rupa? How are these capacities so cultivated? The bhava-rupa, we can note here, is not learned as a body of knowledge but realised through the gradual cultivation of musical judgement, discrimination, listening, and performance. What the guru transmits is not the bhava-rupa itself, but the capacities and discernment through which one can bring it into being.
Bibliography
Lath, Mukund. 2018. “Identity Through Necessary Change: Thinking about ‘Raga-bhava,’ Concepts and Characters.” Journal of World Philosophies 3, 2: 6–23.
Raveh, Daniel. Daya Krishna and Twentieth-Century Indian Philosophy: A New Way of Thinking about Art, Freedom and Knowledge. Bloomsbury, London-New Delhi, 2020