When Pandit Bhimsen Joshi, who passed away today at age 88, sang he made one feel as if he was tapping into the spatial void and picking out fully formed masterpieces. It was as if only he could see and hear music in the great unknown lost to most of us.
I have no pretensions of understanding Indian classical singing in all its complexities. I would not know a raag if I tripped over one. And yet every time I listen to Pandit Joshi’s stentorian voice deal with the crests and troughs of Hindustani classical music he seems to harmonize the general ferment.
Although his grounding was in pure Hindustani classical music he established a unique relationship with his admirers because of his bhajans and abhangs. Even when he sang a bhajan he came across as someone who had figured out more than there was to figure out and was beseeching the rest of us to cross the divide with him.
For someone who sang for over seven decades Joshi never sounded jaded. To be able to bring the same level of freshness to one’s singing for such an extended period of time has to be regarded as otherworldly. At the same time though unlike most great musicians, who come across as if they have mistakenly strayed into a dimension that us lesser mortals inhabit Joshi’s presence seemed deliberate. He was here looking out and not there looking in.
There is no point analyzing Joshi’s overwhelming gifts as a singer. I suggest just listen to any of his thousands of songs to celebrate a great life. I chose the one above for no particular reason.