VOL. 25, ISSUE 5 Thursday, April 24, 2008 SINCE 1973

37 Generations of Musical Lineage:

The Merasi at Dibden

By Calista Tarnauskas

Wrapping two long chains of tiny jingling bells around both ankles, she prepared to dance. Her long black dress, embroidered with brightly colored patterns of beads and thread, cowrie shells, tassels and an assortment of small reflective charms, seemed to have a life of its own.

The six musicians, dressed in white clothes accented by bright orange and red woven vests and turbans, sat queued in a row behind her. Then, standing up, they smiled as the music began. The formerly stoic musicians jerked into motion, and the dancer stomped her bare feet, jingling the bells in time with the music, spun with graceful determination across the stage, her glimmering golden veil a blur of iridescence, and danced as if the movements were as natural as the beating of her heart.

The six musicians are part of the Merasi caste, a lower caste of musicians who live in Rajasthan, the Northwestern region of India. These musicians are descendants of 37 generations of unbroken musical lineage (approximately 800-1200 years old) are at the brink of total extinction. Pinkudi Nath, the dancer described above, belongs to the gypsy community that often collaborates with the Merasi. Nath performed traditional dances with several of the compositions.

This surprise last-minute performance on Thursday, March 27, at 1 p.m. in Dibden, was made possible thanks to the encouragement and organization by part-time Instructor of Art Barbara Molloy, JSC Arts Coordinator Leila Bandar and Professors of Performing Arts Diane Huling-Reed and Lisa Jablow.

The group was introduced by Karen Lukas, founder and director of Folk Arts Rajasthan and Caitie Whelan, educational director of Folk Arts Rajasthan. This U.S.-based non-profit organization focuses not only on cultural preservation, but cultural and social empowerment for the Merasi community. Born into this lower caste of musicianship, the Merasi are not allowed to go to school and are very much without the opportunities the rest of the upper classes in India are afforded.

The musicians played a variety of instruments, many of which, if not all, were invented and crafted within their own community. They performed a variety of songs from the sacred compositions normally reserved for processions, songs meant for story-telling purposes and songs meant for everyday celebration. The energy, confidence and familiarity with which the group played was palpable.

Whalen and Lucas would intermittently ask a member of the group to give an example of a specific instrument like the anglucha, or double flutes, in which the musician places two flutes in his mouth and plays them simultaneously while using a yogic technique of circular breathing. There was even a sort of competition during which four musicians played against each other with the fast syncopated rhythms of the khartals, percussive hand-held instruments similar to the castanets commonly used in flamenco music.

The performance was attended by a crowd of about 60 students, staff, and community members, a good turn out for it having been on such short notice. For tour dates and more information about the Merasi, check out www.merasi.org.