Sorcery and the source
Indian tabla master Zakir Hussain weaves a spell when he plays.

By Peter Nicholson

I GOT A copy of Apple's stupid-easy Garageband program the other day, and because I'm a sucker for tablas, I can't stop playing with "Indian tabla 05," a sample that came with the program. But as catchy as "05" can be, it barely hints at the possibilities of this Indian hand drum and the 2,000-plus years of musical tradition that give its echoing, liquid tone historical resonance. I suspect there are others who, like me, find themselves under the drum's spell. Needless to say, most of them aren't able to sit down for a conversation with one of the world's most accomplished percussionists, who plays tabla and calls the Bay Area home.

The work of preeminent classical Indian tabla player Zakir Hussain is familiar to a large, oddly joined congregation: Deadheads and world music lovers will remember his Grammy-winning work with Mickey Hart on Planet Drum; fans of electronica will cite Bill Laswell's Tabla Beat Science project and appearances on Karsh Kale's first album; others know the score he wrote for the feverish last 12 minutes of Apocalypse Now. He's performed with musicians such as George Harrison and Pharaoh Sanders, and between engagements he presides over the San Anselmo office of his Moment Records label. Hussain is engaging, humble, and more than a bit excited about his current project, the Masters of Percussion tour.

"It's not a Zakir Hussain show – it's them," Hussain says about his collaborators. Born in India, he has been in the United States since 1970, and the only trace of an accent lies in his rhythmic, rolling tenor. "These guys really are masters, and I'm not going to tell them what to do ... Basically [I'll tell them] 'This is where we start, this is where we go. What happens in between is up to you guys.' I'm just going to let them do it and go with the flow – and it's going to be fun."

The assembled include sarangi master Ustad Sultan Khan and a host of percussionists from the southern Indian Hindustani and northern Carnatic traditions. But, in a typical fashion for a musician who thrives on innovation and experimentation, Hussain is most excited about the newest addition to the annual convocation, folk drummers from Manipur, a hilly northeastern state in India. "These are drummers who are tribal people," he explains, "and the strange thing is that their language is different from any of our language when we speak. So it's going to be interesting to see how we communicate." What intrigues Hussain about the Manipuri drummers is not only the challenge of introducing their musical style, which is influenced by their proximity to Burma and Indonesia, but also their stage presence: they dance while drumming, securing the drums with straps so they can even perform cartwheels.

Well versed in performance dynamics, Hussain is always looking for another element with which to excite and engage the audience. While much of his work can be described as classical music, Indian classical music is infinitely more dynamic than the Western version. Although Western classical music has become formally codified, ignoring improvisation and even regulating audience appreciation (don't dare applaud after a solo, or even a movement – one must wait until the proper time!), Indian classical music performances involve the audience, even thrive on it. Hussain explains that this was not always the case. "Indian classical music is 2,000-odd years old, but as a stage-entertainment art form, it's only about 50 years old. Before that, it was confined to the temples and the palaces. So Indian musicians really played for the connoisseurs, or for God ... but today's musician is much more educated about how to present this music, how to show it onstage."

Hussain sees the change coinciding with the end of Britain's control of India, which in turn shaped the cross-cultural exploration of musicians of that era. One of them was Hussain's father, Ustad Alla Rakha, a superlative tabla player who recorded with jazz drummer Buddy Rich what was perhaps the first instance of East-West percussion collaboration.

With the love and pride of a true maestro for his instrument of choice, Hussain naturally sees the tabla as a key element of this change and interaction. "Tabla, I would say, is such a refined instrument, and also the technique is such that it can play any pattern, any kind of rhythmic combination from anywhere in the world. It can play Latin progressions, it can play African, Cuban, Indonesian – anything." Hussain's most recent recording, 2002's Selects (Moment Records), is a collection of solo performances and, as such, may not be the ideal example of the tabla's adaptation to different arrangements, but it certainly is an astounding document of Hussain's talent. Tones bend, and rhythms appear, flower, and fade effortlessly into others; one 13-minute segment from a 1999 concert in Ahmedabad proved – in my case – to be literally breathtaking. As I listened to him play, I was struck by the near impossibility of anticipating what he would do next. The tradition his instrument has helped create – kaidas from Delhi and the Benares and Farukhabad styles – is wonderously rich; add his improvisational genius to the mix, and the musical possibilities are endless.

Perhaps anticipating the rhythms he creates is beyond me – leaving me to appreciate his playing but little more. As Hussain so aptly observes, "You need to have classical training to do any music of any kind, anywhere. Especially if you're going to play instruments. If you're just going to noodle around with electronica, perhaps you don't – you just need to have an ear for it. But to play music you need to study!" He was responding to a question about the future of Indian classical music (although he could have been referring to compositional shortcuts via "Indian tabla 05").

The current crop of fusionists – musicians like Kale and Nitin Sawhney – regard Hussain with reverence. "Zakir Hussain," Kale says, "will be regarded through history as one of the prophets of Indian music and global fusion." Hussain, who offers compliments in return, pointing to their ability to expose new audiences to Indian classical traditions, is clearly unworried their efforts will eclipse the traditions they come from. "It will happen that young people will go for the hybrid," he says. "But what will [also] happen is that people will say, 'Let's go see what this sounds like in its environment.' So there are listeners who do come to see a traditional show, and then it's up to us, through our musicianship, to convert them, to make them think, 'Yeah, this is valid, this is the source, this is also worth listening to.' "

Zakir Hussain performs with the Masters of Percussion Sun/25, 7 p.m., Zellerbach Hall, UC Berkeley, Bancroft at Telegraph, Berk. $22-$42. (510) 642-0212.