Review of Song of the Clay Pot by Sumana Chandrashekar, exploring the ghatam’s history, Carnatic music, craftsmanship, and global musical journey.
Bhaskar Parichha
Book Name: Song of the Clay Pot-My Journey with the Ghatam
Author: Sumana Chandrashekar
Publisher: Speaking Tiger
Location: New Delhi
Song of the Clay Pot” is a memoir-travelogue by Sumana Chandrashekar, centered on the ghatam—an earthen pot used as a percussion instrument in Carnatic music. The book traces Chandrashekar’s artistic journey, delves into the history, cultural lineage, and crafting of the ghatam, and shares anecdotes about its place in music and society.
Sumana Chandrashekar is a talented ghatam player, writer, and researcher. She studies the ghatam with Sukanya Ramgopal and has also learned Carnatic vocal music. Sumana has performed a lot and has been involved in various experimental and collaborative music projects, as well as initiatives in music education. As a researcher focused on music histories, she is interested in the intersection of language, migration, gender, and music. Sumana has traveled extensively across India and has collaborated closely with artists and artist communities.
The book explores the intersection of society, culture, and art through the lens of the humble clay pot, weaving together folklore, myth, and personal experiences. It narrates legends, including tales of Lord Ganesh and Shiva as primordial pot drummers, and discusses the everyday rhythms made by village women carrying pots, connecting these motifs to the ghatam’s status as a musical instrument.
As we follow the ghatam’s journey, starting from when it’s crafted on the potter’s wheel using clay from ponds and lakes, Chandrashekar shares fascinating insights into the history of Carnatic music. She touches on topics like the musical censorship that caused the ghatam to be overlooked and AIR’s ban on the harmonium from 1940 to 1971.
She speaks passionately about the hierarchy of instruments, with the ghatam ranking fifth after the main artist, violin, mridangam, and khanjira, and how this hierarchy influences relationships among artists. Chandrashekar is open about the gender biases faced by women artists and the societal pressure to fit a certain mold—something she knows all too well, having chosen to wear a kurta pajama and turban instead of the traditional kanjeevaram sari and neatly styled hair.
The memoir blends personal narrative with historical and spiritual dimensions of the ghatam. It highlights the craftsmanship and artistry of potters who shape the instrument, the traditions of Carnatic music, and social hierarchies within classical concerts, where the ghatam ranks behind other instruments.
Chandrashekar recounts legendary figures like Vikku Vinayakram and Sukanya Ramgopal, India’s first woman ghatam player, describing their pioneering roles on the world stage.
Gender biases in music, the politics of performance, and the evolution of the ghatam’s place in Indian classical music are candidly discussed.
Writes Sumana in the Epilogue, ‘This is truly a global instrument. The ghatam today is truly a global instrument. Every day on social media, I am heartened to see how artists from across the world and across musical cultures and genres have embraced and welcomed the ghatam into their midst. In all these settings, the ghatam sits snugly, conversing warmly with all other instruments-just as she did a thousand years ago when Gundayya was playing it. Most potters speak of the pot as their child, sometimes as their daughter who will one day leave their home. To a few other potters, the pot is the full moon; the scars on the pot caused by the firing, they say, are as beautiful as the spots on the moon.’
Written lyrically, the memoir is described as deeply researched, filled with history, legend, and personal reflections, making it a valuable read for music lovers and those interested in cultural storytelling.
(The author is a senior journalist and columnist. Views expressed are personal.)