87: Oppenheimer

First, listen to this 1½-minute track:

When Christopher Nolan’s film Oppenheimer was released recently, it triggered a distant memory in Grand Union history – a feeling of familiarity, a sense that we’d been here before. It took a while, but going through the archives and revisiting old recordings, of course it all came back…

In 1986 anti-war protests – like CND, Aldermaston marches and the women’s camp at Greenham Common – were at their height. My long-time collaborator David Bradford came up with an idea for a show that would address the nuclear threat and pressure for disarmament. He called it ‘A Book of Numbers’, partly because of its dark Biblical resonance, but also because science (to a layperson at least!) seems dominated by numbers. Then of course there were the apocalyptic numbers of casualties at Hiroshima and after.

A Book of Numbers was commissioned by the Commonwealth Institute in London, and toured the UK in the wake of our first large-scale touring show The Song of Many Tongues. The music and songs told stories of the nuclear age, beginning with the wartime Manhattan Project in Los Alamos; however, it ended in a spirit of joyous optimism, evoking a peaceful demonstration in a London park by a large and diverse crowd dominated by children.

Hindu Scripture and Music

The story goes that when Oppenheimer (a genuinely cultured and empathetic man) saw the final test of the hydrogen bomb in New Mexico, he was moved to quote in Sanskrit from a shloka in the Bhagavad Vita, where Vishnu reveals himself – “I am become Death, Destroyer of Worlds” – and the lines divi sūrya-sahasrasya bhaved yugapad utthitā yadi bhāḥadṛiśhī sā syād bhāsas tasya mahātmanaḥ.

In the short extract above, these words are intoned by Indian multi-instrumentalist Baluji Shrivastav (also playing tabla), followed immediately by the English translation, delivered by the full power of the Grand Union Orchestra brass, percussion and voices if the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst into the sky, that would perhaps be like the splendour of the mighty one.

Exactly how or why I don’t know, but I decided to match Oppenheimer’s arcane knowledge, academic hubris, wish to show off – call it what you will! – with my own take on Indian culture. This was the first time I had worked with Baluji, who after that became a much-valued regular member of the Grand Union Orchestra. He has an uncanny knack of sensing what musicians are likely to respond to creatively, and he suggested I should base my composition on Rag Marva and the 12-beat cycle Ektal. This proved to be absolutely perfect, and sparked my enduring love affair the music of South Asia, its techniques and the creative inspiration it gives me. This is described in an early blog post  http://wp.me/p1EvPu-E, which also analyses the Rag in detail.

The Radiance of a Thousand Suns

So let’s introduce the whole number, The Radiance of a Thousand Suns. It begins with a stunning improvised duet between Baluji and the incomparable jazz virtuoso Chris Biscoe on soprano saxophone. Between them, in classical Indian form, they explore the raga in free melodic style; the tabla introduce the 12-beat Ektal, again in classical form, until its beats are emphasised in such a way (Baluji’s idea again! )that the texture suggests a typical 12/8 Blues. This is underscored by the harmony: the big band riffs and so on are all strictly derived from the original Rag (notatlon here). A final transformation takes the rhyhm into 3/4 medium swing, the bass playing 6 to the bar, and the coda with the music we’ve already heard, and a brilliant trumpet solo by Shanti Jayasingh:

Afterword

The Radiance of a Thousand Suns:was revived about 25 years later, and was included in If Paradise. The theme of that show was also conflict and resolution in South Asia today, but seen through the eyes of a young Bengali couple.

Many other ‘numbers’ from that show have become standards in the Grand Union repertoire, and indeed spawned shows of their own – most notably If Music Could…

 and Raise the Banner.

Finally, perhaps David Bradford’s most brilliant stroke was to structure each lyric to reflect its number in the cycle. Thus (5) If Music Could had five solo verses each of 5 lines, which I matched by setting it in 5/4 time in D flat (5 flats) and 5 voices; and (9) Raise the Banner I set in 9/8 time. The Radiance of a Thousand Suns was no 6: it is a six-note raga, and I had to cheat slightly with the time – but I would argue that the 12 beats actually sound like 6 to the bar!