The musical bridge between past and present
One of the better known names in the Nepali music scene today, as the founder of Project Sarangi and part of Kutumba, is Kiran Nepali.
He breathes new life into the traditional string instrument, inspiring younger Nepalis to find a sense of pride in their roots, inviting listeners not just to the sound but also to think about persistent caste discrimination.
Nepali is steeped in the cultural heritage of the Gandharva community, who were traditionally minstrels travelling from village to village, singing the news of the land through their lyrics.
Modern media replaced this communication system in Nepali society, and the cultural value of Gandharva storytelling disappeared. People stopped associating themselves with the music. Gandharvas experienced caste discrimination, and the sarangi itself became untouchable.
Growing up in Kathmandu to a lineage of sarangi players, Nepali’s parents discouraged him from learning the instrument. So he learned the guitar. Later, he went back to the sarangi, and that changed everything.
“Don’t chase what you don’t have. Take what you do have and make it great,” says Nepali, reflecting on discarded tradition.
Since 2012, the Project has offered educational opportunities to those who want to play the sarangi. They also developed a locally-made redesign of the instrument so it can be incorporated with technology like loop pedals and amps.
Nepali’s love for the sarangi is palpable, as he blends the new amplified sound with the traditional melodies he has perfected, with the instrument serving as a musical bridge between the past and present.
As a result of the instrument’s newly acquired modern appeal, he has witnessed a dramatic increase in people wanting to learn sarangi, notably those outside the Gandharva community. Many Nepalis are attracted to learning it as a way of connecting to their roots.
But is something lost in modernising the playing? Nepali thinks not, having the opinion that traditional instruments must evolve with the times to stay relevant.
“Do we want to see this instrument being played or in a museum?” he asks. “Music must go on, because it has a life, it has a soul, and to preserve it means that it’s already dead."
Sarangi for conservation
Gandharva music is also being used by Greenhood Nepal for its anti-poaching anthem. Greenhood's Kumar Paudel interviewed over 100 people arrested for illegal wildlife trade. Faced with fines and prison sentences of up to 15 years, the interviewees expressed regret, many stating that they had not realised the scale of the penalty, and the toll it would take on their families.
Paudel then wrote the lyrics for a collection of songs drawn from the interviews. Collaborating with singer and sarangi player Prakash Gandharva, the songs communicate the impact of illegal wildlife trade on ecosystems and communities, and were performed across Nepal in the traditional Gandharva storytelling style.
“In communities with high rates of illiteracy and limited access to the internet, music is the most effective way of communicating these messages,” says Paudel.
Amrit Gandhari is a music therapist and owner of Abira Music Shop in Thamel, which he opened after the pandemic. While modern technology may threaten Gandharva music, through social media it also provides a large platform to share the music, broadly.
Most sarangi sales from Gandhari's shop are to tourists, who can learn how to play from his YouTube tutorials. He even wrote a song during lockdown to spread awareness about Covid in the traditional Gandharva style.
Sarangi has traditionally been a male-dominated instrument but more women are now learning it too. Gandhari is especially proud that his college-age daughter, Anu, has learnt to play.
Now, the father-daughter duo perform every evening at 6PM in the Kathmandu Guest House courtyard.
Says Anu Gandhari: “I want to be the best sarangi player in the world.”
Emma Kieran Schaefer is a Thomas J Watson fellow who was in Nepal for a month to research about Gandharva music.