Among the very regrettable casualties of the tech revolution is the assault on indigenous culture. Across the world, an abstract grey is consuming the richness and colour of indigenous culture; the classics quoted in such cherry-picked fashion so as to suit a purpose rather than be learned from in context.
Traditional literature, some of it once considered universal, is on a steady decline in interest and appeal. Dissonance, rather than harmony, finds resonance; the search for utopia drowns in the dystopian. Poetry leans more towards black and white experiences than the rainbow of imagination, that wonderful state where each is to his or her own in positioning. Songs that would have one lilting to the melody and words are giving way to being jarred with reality.
Japan caught attention when it began to shut down liberal arts due to the low level of interest and in line with the state's direction of a scientific society. Oxford University is under pressure to drop Shakespeare as a compulsory subject and bring more multi-cultural voices into the study of literature.
Shakespearean theatrical performances have already branched out into modern adaptations, including dialogue. There are those that still hold strong to their protests in arguing that scientific endeavour has to be laced with the truth of literature. The sheer power of Ludwig Van Beethoven, the sweetness of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and the lyricism of Mendelssohn or Bach had their magic detractors will say, and also that it is time to move on.
Is there a right or wrong in all of this?
One senses the helplessness of Bangladesh's Information Minister Dr Hasan Mahmud as he pleaded with cultural reporters to convey the message “protect our indigenous culture from the clutches of sky culture.” A polite response may well have been “frame the policies, sir.” Except it's a trifle late. In the 1980s, when Indian television was still dawdling behind, authorities were shaken out of their reveries when school children wrongly named Bangladesh's president as their own. Those roles have been reversed. Local FM Radio are free to air Hindi songs at every third go. Cable operators offer the choicest range of entertainment channels that promote family sitcoms with strong Hindu religion overtures. Attempts to curtail this came in for criticism from our housewives that put entertainment factor before all else.
That's how sadly our creative forces rank. The young generation pick up on the curious cushion of Indian culture strongly fused with Western influence. In turn, advertisers -- tasked with grabbing attention -- play on similar themes furthering the agenda.
Social acceptance of Rabindranath Tagore and Kazi Nazrul Islam have faded because they weren't disseminated for the richness of their discourse, the poignancy of their verse, and significant universality -- taking 18th and 19th century culture and plopping it on 20th century minds doesn't work anymore. Thought patterns have changed. The wooden kharam don't resonate because they're no longer in use. Adaptation is the key and the relevant institutions have failed by sticking to the past. Though available, West Bengal channels that infrequently dip into classical culture don't find relevance even in Bangladesh.
The Tagore influenced middle-class that dominated the arts and culture post-liberation have all but lost ground leaving die-hard classicists moaning and groaning. Matters have come to such a fore that private channels seem to be going through the motions in featuring Nazrul and Tagore artistes that are abominably out of tune and as naturally follow, devoid of passion.
Chayanaut and the newly-formed Gems of Nazrul are attempting to revitalize and re-energize Tagore and Nazrul. Where, one feels, they fall short is re-positioning these two greats in a context more relevant to the new generation. In the same perspective the Opera continues to cater for the wealthy Western section. The use of more classical instruments turning out popular music on the streets, in tube stations in the West in return for some money has almost vanished from our streets.
Technology actually offers greater potential for adaptation, except that the required meeting between creative minds and those technically inclined just isn't happening. Think of the occasional classical music fest and concerts and the broader spectrum the combine could achieve. The possibility is mind boggling.
Mahmudur Rahman is a writer, columnist, broadcaster, and communications specialist.