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This is a drum summit in tisra or three, outlined by the tune "When You're Smiling." It's in khanda nadai, 5 little beat-subdivisions, so the given here is three 5s or fifteen.

The piece, like most of my rhythm-driven ones, has the air of looking over a master's shoulder. Any student of Karnatak music knows some rhythm, but we defer to drummers, especially tavil players, who think that way all the time, including when away from the drum itself. I presume certain conventions in the form of the concert:

Each player has a major statement or two. Then there's a koruppu, 'shortening', like trading fours in jazz; then twos; then ones. Then it's capped by a big thrice-repeated korvai or composition, this one of the many conveyed to me by phone from the bed-ridden Ranga, probably at some odd hour.

T. Ranganathan, brother of the great dancer Balasaraswati, was my first rhythm teacher and a friend for life. His childhood polio affliction sharpened his wit and his uproariously cynical view of the world. And his last years left his rhythmic mind untamed despite a failing body; in fact, I think he couldn't stop composing.

"Tom? Are you ready? Take this down: khanda chapu [five medium beats], any jati. Let's take three [ta ki ta]:

Player 1: ta ki ta

Player 2: ta ki ta

Player 1: ta ki ta

Player 2: ta - ki - ta -

Player 1: ta ki ta

Player 2: ta - - - ki - - - ta - - -

[Player 1 keeps a constant speed, while player 2's speed keeps slowing down.]

This will never work on the stage, because it ends slowly instead of in a blue whiz. Only you and I understand it."

This last was dubious, because I barely kept up when writing down and digging Ranga's arcane rhythmical pieces. He also harangued others with his torrent of ideas during this dark final period. But were we to pool what he conveyed, there'd be a formidable body of work.

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Tom Ross Colorado Springs, Colorado

Music, art, poetry spoken here!

As E Dickinson says:

Nature is what we know
but have no art to say
so impotent our wisdom is
to her simplicity

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