SHARMA: PIONEERING SANTOOR PLAYER

The hammered dulcimer--or zither--was “discovered” by most Westerners through Anton Karas’ unforgettable score to “The Third Man.” Though popular in Eastern Europe, and now gaining acceptance in the West, the instrument has been around for centuries.

If you could visit Ancient India or Persia, say about 1,000 years ago, you would find a variation of the multi-stringed folk instrument. Back then it was called sata tantri veena or santoor, but the modus operandi always remained the same: Hold the hammer and strike the string. Simple.

So simple that it took European craftsmen another 800 years to finally discover the wealth of sound coloration this approach offers. That discovery changed Western music. It is called the piano.

In the tradition-bound world of Indian music, it has taken far longer than a mere 800 years for the santoor to make the move from folk to classical. For that bridge to be crossed, it required someone with the conviction of Shivkumar Sharma, who is generally credited with elevating the 72-string instrument to a level of respectability with the sitar and sarod.

The Kashmir-based musician, who appears at the Japan America Theatre tonight with tabla player Zakir Hussain, recalled recently the response that greeted his early attempts to adapt the santoor to the serious realm of raga: “There was skepticism in people’s mind. They felt I couldn’t re-create everything classical music is meant to express.”

Here in the West, musical crossover hardly raises eyebrows. Not so in India. And in Sharma’s case, it’s easy to see why--he changed everything but the principal of hammer-hits-string.

Most hammered dulcimers are tuned in a chromatic scale, he explained. “You hit the major notes with the right hand and the minor ones with the left. But when I play a raga, I tune the right side to the notes of the particular scale the raga is built on. No one had done this before.”

Since Indian classical music relies so heavily on the prominence of these notes of the scale, this innovation was crucial in the evolution of the santoor from mere vocal accompanist to legitimate solo voice. Such a move eventually found acceptance both at home and in concert halls around the world.

But, says Sharma, it took a lot of work. “The music I play requires a total education,” he said. “The talent is inborn--it must be there. Then you need training, you need a guru.”

He was fortunate to have one right in the house--his father, the respected vocalist Umadutt Sharma. “He started me on singing at 5, and then I switched to tablas,” the younger Sharma recalled. “So, I had early training in melody and rhythm.”

He took up the santoor at 12 and, at his father’s suggestion, soon began rethinking the instrument in classical terms.

After more than three decades of concertizing around the world, Sharma, now 49, appreciates the renewed seriousness of Western audiences, compared to the trendiness of crowds a decade ago, when Indian music in general--and sitarist Ravi Shankar in particular--became the rage in the West.

Though he still takes the time to explain the mechanics of the santoor to American audiences, Sharma has never been willing to adapt his playing to suit the whims of his listeners here.

“When I play, first and foremost, I must satisfy myself,” he said. “It gives me a certain kind of bliss, and I do enjoy sharing that bliss with my audience. But they must come up to the level my mind is at.”