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For a Fistful of Sitars

August 1971. The crème de la crème of international rock was appearing at Madison Square Garden, summoned by George Harrison for a memorable concert in support of Bangladesh, then wasting away due to a terrible famine. Ravi Shankar took the stage. The Indian musician picked up his sitar. The first notes glided over the thronging crowds. After a few seconds, the music stopped. And the audience exploded in an ovation. Ravi Shankar thanked them, and added: “If you appreciate the tuning so much, I hope you will enjoy the playing more.” That sentence is the insignia and definitive interpretive key for one of the most characteristic infatuations — and most curious misunderstandings — of the counterculture during the 1960s and 1970s. The rules of classical Indian music dictate that concerts traditionally begin with the tuning of the instruments. But this was unknown to the audiences at Madison Square Garden. All they knew was that those sounds came from India. And therefore they were very cool. The rock-hard conviction of this audience in New York, during the summer of 1971, had distant origins. And, I presume, its motivations were generally something other than the appreciation (let alone the understanding) of classical Indian music.