At the altars of Carnatic music

He's been described as a true world-music visionary and a godsend from India.

But no matter what anyone may say, one thing is true:

The man is good.

Monday evening, I walked slowly out of the Eccles Conference Center feeling a little befuddled, despite the general consensus between myself and I that I was definitely looking sharp. The problem was that now the concert was over, I still had one lingering question:

How do you review a concert that stylistically was amazing, but, like a pagan attending mass for the first time, was less than thrilling?

Since nothing else comes to mind, I guess a little metaphor couldn't hurt. Bear with me for a minute.

If the Eccles Conference Center auditorium were a temple, Prasanna would have been its priest. Joining with him in the precise execution of his priestly duties, most of the fellow worshippers at the altars of music were enthralled with the mystical sounds that clouded the room like incense.

Even though anyone would undoubtably appreciate the dedication and talent, there were still a few non-believers in the audience.

Well ... there was at least one.

Performing an intriguing style of Carnatic music from southern India, I spent the first several minutes trying to figure out how Prasanna evoked those oriental sounds from an otherwise western instrument.

In short, in spite of all the Hendrix and Santanna albums I've listened to, I've never heard an electric guitar sound like that.

Taking time in between songs to spray lubricant on his strings, Prasanna's fingers flew up and down the strings switching back and forth between pentatonic and major scales. The fast-paced accompaniment by Lakshman on the Mridangam, a traditional Indian percussion instrument, added to the mystic feeling of this specific cultural expression.

Taking pieces composed within the last 300 years, it was almost eerie how respectfully the audience applauded at the end of every number.

Though he took some time to explain the scales he used in the songs, Prasanna had minimal interaction with the audience because, as he said, with a slight chuckle, "I used to talk at my concerts a lot, but [people] told me to shut up."

Like any acquired taste, Carnatic music may have been a little hard to embrace at first, but it's certain that, as with any great art form, the more you're exposed to it, the more you'll enjoy it.

Prasanna, himself wrote, in an essay on Carnatic music, "Let's face it! Carnatic music is culture specific in much the same way as all arts are. However, all great arts ultimately transcend all barriers and can powerfully affect the human consciousness at large. One doesn't need to be a Christian to appreciate Da Vinci's 'The Last Supper' or a Hindu to appreciate Saint Thyagaraja's music. Art exists in a realm of its own where the Dikshitars, Shakespeares, Bachs, Kafkas, Coltranes and Van Goghs happily live. It's my belief that Carnatic music, much like Western classical music and Jazz is so comprehensive and highly evolved a musical tradition that it is universal in its scope and application."

Even though I agree with Prasanna, I still sit here writing as an unbeliever. I have a great respect for the musician and an even greater respect for the music, but all things considered, I won't be buying his albums anytime soon.

Matt Wright is a music critic and assistant features editor at the Statesman. Comments can be sent to him at mattgo@cc.usu.edu