Zakir Hussain isn’t just a maestro of the tabla. He’s a virtuoso of the spoken word
His reputation alone is formidable.
But an experience of the man demonstrates that the reputation doesn’t begin to do him justice.
Zakir Hussain is not just a tabla maestro but a virtuoso of the spoken word. And of the complex thought, shared with illuminating clarity and great insight.
In a conversation that lasted an hour but could have gone on twice that long, Zakir – along with his wonderfully articulate and inclusive biographer Nasreen Munni Kabir – told the story of his extraordinary life – of learning not just to play the tabla and perform on the world’s most influential stages but of learning to really listen to both the music and the silences; of the slowly accreting knowledge of his instrument that refined not just his playing but knowledge of himself; of learning how not to be a facsimile of his revered father Ustad Allahrakha but an original, individualistic voice in the world of Indian classical music.
Through this expansive conversation he told stories – of his first ever concert series at age 16 with Pandit Ravi Shankar and the humbling truths it threw up; of having his father whisper melodies in his year as an infant; of discovering that a student must inspire the teacher to teach rather than expect him to do so.
Zakir’s musical genius is unquestioned. But the integrity of his pursuit over six decades of playing the tabla and his piercing intelligence made apparent why his celebrity has not flagged for over four decades as India’s preeminent tabla maestro; a man who has earned both rockstar status and the respect of the demanding fraternity of Indian classical music.