Zakir Hussain was one of the most important, influential and human musical voices of his generation – not just in India but in the world. Combined with the training that was available to him from his father, tabla maestro Alla Rakha, Zakir-bhai’s personality, talent and creativity allowed him to step into a unique musical space and time, when India and Indian music took to the world stage and when Indian musicians, led by Zakir, shaped the genre that the West came to call “World Music”.
India sometimes called it fusion, but regardless of the label, Zakir-bhai led its development, working with musicians of all styles and from all corners of the globe. In this he followed in the footsteps of some of his elders: not only his father, but others such as the legendary Ali Akbar Khan, with whom he created some of the most challenging and wonderful Hindustani classical music to be heard in the 20th century.
It was the sheer vitality of his playing in the Shakti recordings of the 1970s that pulled me into the world of tabla and the ultimately into the world of Zakir Hussain. As one of a small hoard of foreigners trying to find a footing in the complex musical and cultural world of Hindustani classical music, my first experiences of Zakir-bhai showed me his thoughtfulness and flexibility, his ability to communicate, and (almost always) his patience in dealing with students who had no idea about the expectations or the demands of Indian music culture.
His willingness to talk, to teach, to share his culture with us had their foundations in the attitudes and expectations of his father. But Zakir-bhai used those foundations as the basis of a bigger and more global life. For those of us who sought it, his impact and love became permanent parts of our lives.
With Alla Rakha, one always had to be on one’s toes. That was true with his son as well. But the parameters were much broader with Zakir-bhai, and were always mixed with a lightning-fast sense of humor, intimidating memory, and a range of interests that went from his beloved cricket to new technology and to almost any form of musical expression that one might encounter.
There are hundreds across the planet who know that these characteristics were combined with patience and a true concern for the welfare those who came into his orbit.
One of the most important lessons Zakir-bhai taught us came from his consistent and all-encompassing love of other musics and musicians and his enormous respect for his musical elders. This was explicit in the displays of devotion that he offered to the men and women of his father’s generation, from tabla player Kishen Maharaj to film playback singer Asha Bhosle.
As his career progressed, Zakir-bhai expanded his love for other musicians to his juniors, in India and in musical worlds far removed from his own. At one concert in Auckland in New Zealand, featuring his Masters of Percussion colleagues, he introduced an item with local Pacific Island drummers as a collaboration “between us and us”, teaching his colleagues, his collaborators and his audience an important lesson about openess and inclusivity.
As he moved from being a young leader to being the senior voice of Indian classical music, Zakir Hussain continued to work tirelessly to provide performance and recording opportunities for young musicians that were made possible by his generosity and his reputation. Everyone who encountered him, for five minutes or for 50 years must come to terms with his absence. But Zakir-bhai’s passing simply emphasises his permanence in our lives.
Gregory D Booth, a professor of anthropology at the University of Auckland, has had a long engagement with India and Indian music. He is the author of Behind the Curtain: Making Music in Mumbai’s Film Studios and Brass Baja: Stories from the World of India’s Wedding Bands.
