When a man sets out to describe a giant there are a limited number of things he can do. One, like David did to Goliath, he can bring him down to his level and like Shelley lament the disappointment over the mighty, fallen.The second option is to rise up to the level of the giant and get a good look at him, see the world as the giant sees it and describe it, which itself would result in a fair glimpse of the giant himself.There is a third option: to grope like John Godfrey Saxe’s Blind Men vis-à-vis the elephant. Most biographers tend to ape the Blind Men, catching at whatever they can understand of their subject and proclaiming their discoveries with Archimedean alacrity.
Bakthtiar K. Dadabhoy, author of books ranging from the history of banking in India, through collections of trivia on Cricket and “interesting dates” in history, the life of JRD,and the lives of eminent Parsis, did not have much of a choice. He took on a Goliath that wouldn’t fall to a slingshot nor disintegrate in Ozymandian despair; neither did Dadabhoy have the luxury of the Blind Men. His subject was a living, growing, commanding international presence: and like the best known biographers, he lands up somewhere between the second and the third option mentioned earlier. Admittedly, however, seeing the world through the eyes of the subject is a unique privilege. And Dadabhoy has lifted himself to a point from where he could see a large part of what Zubin Mehta could see.
He has rightly called the book “Zubin Mehta: A Musical Journey”, and what a journey it has been. Not merely from Cuffe Parade to Vienna, Los Angeles, New York – and Tel Aviv. The physical movements were but incidental in the path of this phenomenon called Zubin Mehta. The journey starts with his birth in a family steeped in music (his father Mehli Mehta was later to found the Bombay Symphony Orchestra); he moved to Vienna at the age of 18 where he learnt conducting, and four years later, made his conducting debut. While in his twenties, he conducted the Vienna Philharmonic and the Berlin Philharmonic – two orchestras acknowledged as the greatest in the world. The Israel Philharmonic Orchestra appointed him as Music Advisor in 1969, then Music Director in 1977 and Music Director for Life in 1981. One is sorely tempted to go on an unbridled description of the “life” so keenly watched and dissected in the book, the life itself being so much of an inspiration. But then that is the work of the biographer. The reviewer only analyses the presentation to see how far the biographer has succeeded in bringing out a composite picture: whether the head, the ear, the tusk, the foot, the tail and the rest have been added to present the full-blown majesty of the elephant.
‘The great conductors have egos that are indescribable. They have no business being on the podium if that is not the case.’ The Maestro does not accept that it is a positon of power or omniscience. He says that the primary job of a conductor is to “communicate his knowledge, his perception, and his vision of the composer’s message.” In a later newspaper interview he confirms: “And what I communicate at the moment is what I feel and what my musicians need. Because I am there for them. They also appear in the music. One should never forget that.”
Dadabhoy has done more than just a fair job of it. For those not familiar with the field of music but would love to know more about Zubin Mehta, and as much for those who have some idea … the author starts by explaining in a matter of fact manner, what a Conductor is and what he is expected to do. Starting with a quote from Harold C. Schonberg (Author of Great Conductors 1967) which says: “He has but to stretch out his hand and he is obeyed” Dadabhoy goes on in a later chapter to analyse the egoistic tendencies of conductors. He says that the “person enters the hall and it becomes quiet automatically. He raises a small white stick and there is silence followed by music. Such a response to one’s presence is more than what most mortals can be expected to bear without effect. The ego which must be immense for even entering the profession is further enlarged.” This view of the author is corroborated by LeontynPrice when she says: ‘The great conductors have egos that are indescribable. They have no business being on the podium if that is not the case.’ And yet, when the author interviews Zubin Mehta the response is straight and simple. The Maestro does not accept that it is a positon of power or omniscience. He says that the primary job of a conductor is to“communicate his knowledge, his perception, and his vision of the composer’s message.” In a later newspaper interview he confirms: “And what I communicate at the moment is what I feel and what my musicians need. Because I am there for them. They also appear in the music. One should never forget that.”Which does not mean that the Maestro has not had his moments. The controversy before his appointment to the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, the Concert in Kashmir, his angry reaction to the Morarji Desai Government’s withdrawal of permissionare adequately representative. But these do not affect his overall image in any manner.
The author finally says that the conductor is a sculptor, father figure, teacher, administrator, executive, musician, all rolled into one. He says that the role of the conductor has evolved over the last 150 years or so from being a sort of human metronome (only communicating the rhythm to the players) to that of an interpreter, using the bare bones of the musical scores and with the small white baton, fleshing it out to produce what the composer intended to communicate. While the life of Zubin Mehta has been the subject of biographies in various forms (films, documentaries, books) he also has an autobiography titled The Score of My Life, which he has written in German [Die PartiturmeinesLebens: Erinnerungen]. When askedwhy (in German) he quipped: “Well, I am sure I could have never written it in Gujarati.”
Twenty-five chapters (430 pages) later, you are left with awe. His music, his special love for Israel, his attachment to India, his attempts at bridging the gaps between the Arabs and Israelis, assuaging the wounds of the concentration camps all stand out … almost at par with the music. The words of President Shimon Peres, “…you became part of us, and we became part of your inspiration”, ring out over the disharmony in his troubled land. And Zubin Mehta comes across as the living, sensitive human being and not just as the man with the magic baton.The 67 photographs on 8 colour plates add to the shimmering glory of a man India cannot easily forget.
Bakhtiar Dadabhoy has done a great service to music lovers all over the world, and particularly in India, where the knowledge of western classical music (and enjoyment thereof) is restricted to groups spread thinly among the urban elite.
