AD - Music cannot be separated from culture. Music is just another manifestation of the philosophy of the land. So the answer mostly deals the spiritual aspect of our lives. To avoid any confusion, I must say here that I am not religious but certainly spiritual.

Indian music is improvised music. We have to go through strict disciplines to be able to improvise upon a specific theme. This process makes us spiritual, helps us to listen to our own deeper self. We learn to go beyond illusion to discover formlessness. As the Upanishad taught us: drown yourself in the ocean of forms to discover formlessness. Truth lies beyond what we see, touch, smell. Everything is in this world is nothing but maya.

This system teaches us who we are. It is extremely important for a creator to know who he or she is, because music is not outside, not in a compact disc or in a video. We are the music. We must believe in ourselves. As a Hindu prophet once said: he is an atheist who does not believe in himself.

I personally respect this system, because it does not insist on converting anybody to Hinduism. There is no bad side effect, only good. It helps us to discover ourselves and boosts our emotional and spiritual stamina. Friends, this is a lot more effective than ginseng.

T - Lately you’ve been traveling around the country bringing tabla seminars, performance, and instruction to the public. Could you share some of your experiences with us?

AD - I have been amazed to see that so many people already have my books and video, and have been trying to learn on their own. These people have the love, dedication, and respect for the instrument, and they obviously have been hoping for me to come to their town someday so that they can receive instruction. I have met many extremely talented kids. It almost makes me cry, because I know these kids could become wonderful tabla players if they received proper guidance. Unfortunately, colleges and universities don’t like to hire ethnic drummers. They are more interested in hiring someone who can bring money in rather than taking money out: the instructors must be sponsored by a drum manufacturer. There is hardly any respect for true art and education in educational organizations.

I believe that all of my performances have been very successful. I play about 90 minutes
of tabla solo for each concert. No one has left the auditorium, or cursed me during my performance; rather, the audience has exploded with applause and given me standing ovations every time. This response confirms for me, once again, that I made the right decision when I decided to play tabla solo exclusively. There are thousands of music lovers in the world who are ready to appreciate what I do. As a soloist, from the beginning I received rejection from the industry people (as if they know art!), negativity from fellow musicians (Indians and non-Indians), and friends (acquaintances?). Fortunately, I learnt to listen to myself and ignore evils.

I have never understood the reason for why a human being should work hard to make somebody else’s music beautiful. It does not make any sense to me that a creator should work as a rhythm keeper, as a colorful metronome!!! From the beginning of my tabla career I was uncomfortable with my position as accompanist in the music world; so I had to do what my paramatma (deeper self) wanted me to do.

I have been a soloist since 1990, and I quit my day job in 1993. Apparently, it is possible to make a respectable living as a drum soloist.

T - Let’s examine your past a little bit. Who and what were the major influences in your development as a tabla player and as an artist in general? What is your personal underlying philosophy for approaching your art and how has it evolved over the years?

AD - I grew up in a university town, primarily dedicated to art, music, and literature. My father Anadinath Dutta was a percussion instructor at that university, but he never wanted me or my brothers to become drummers in order to make a living. I was into writing poems, short stories, and occasionally critical essays. I guess, my father was quite unhappy about the way he had been treated by the musically illiterate authorities, and he did not want his children to suffer the same way.

Although I did not learn tabla as a child, I heard my father playing all the time — the pure sound of tabla. I loved the sound he was able to produce but did not have any desire to study tabla. Then, I had an experience that changed me. Late on a cold January night, my friends and I were lying on the ground after getting very drunk in a nearby village pub. There was no electricity; the moon was bright. Suddenly, we heard the sound of a tribal drum. The music of that drum blew us away. We could not stay on the ground. Completely hypnotized, we got up and followed the sound. Two drummers were playing and about a dozen women were dancing.

Today, after many years of drumming, I realize that their drumming was not sophisticated or rhythmically complicated, but the music they produced was very rich and precious. Even after listening to the great masters’ music from all over the world, I must admit that, no one has been able to replace the feeling I had from listening to my father and those tribal people. In my memory I have preserved them as a major source of creation.

I have never found the answer to why I became interested in tabla, but, when I was ready, my father agreed to teach me, and he became my only guru, my god of tabla. He is the most influential figure in my musical life. He showed me the correct path to the drum. He inspired me with genuine love, protected me with affection, and provided courage and strength to accept everything positively.

As an accompanist, I played with many great musicians. At the beginning everything felt right, but after a short while things started to fall apart. What I had been playing as an accompanist seemed meaningless, as if I were not playing my music. I felt like a puppet of the system, which was to dictating me. I could not continue tabla with this kind of agony. I moved to the US, went to school, and worked in Albuquerque for 7 years.

During my stay in Albuquerque, in 1990, I decided to play tabla solo exclusively. I felt the tremendous urge of karma deeper inside me. I knew I had no other choice but to go for tabla solo. There was hardly any support–all rejection at the beginning. It was kind of amusing, though, to hear organizers or musicians saying tabla solo wouldn’t work. Their negative attitudes actually made me believe that it would work. Isn’t that something!

I have great student karma. They have always made me believe in myself. All these great drummers like Terry Bozzio, Pat Mastelotto, Danny Carey, Joe Porcaro, Simon Phillips, Roy El Wooten have always supported my philosophy and my mission, and have helped to build my confidence.