It would be a “mellifluent” evening, the compère had promised at the beginning of the programme, in unbelievably bad English. Well, perhaps it wasn’t as original as that, but still Ajoy Chakrabarty managed to charm the audience with his rendition of Tagore songs at Galaxy, The Park Hotels, on June 9.

Of course, it took quite a while to get to the music. There was the customary half-an-hour delay, followed by long-winded introductions. What took one’s breath away, however, was none of this. It was the elaborate musical arrangement: esraj, sitar, sarod, tabla, pakhawaj, khol, mandira, synthesizer, bass guitar, guitar, flute, violin and even maracas. This medley would put to shame even an orchestra for a Wagner opera! Why does a gifted classical vocalist like Chakrabarty need this instrumental extravaganza when a tanpura, an esraj and the usual non-electronic percussions would have been quite adequate? (The “music designer”, by the way, was Durbadal Chatterjee.) These days, exponents of Rabindrasangeet are either unaware of Tagore’s strong disapproval of excessive instrumentation or perhaps they cannot be bothered to care.

The music, when it came eventually, was magical. Chakrabarty began with a Brahmasangeet, “Subhro ashane birajo”, set in raga Bhairav, invoking just about the right measure of piety that the song demands. He teased out nuances of the morning raga by modulating the rishav and the dhaivat, even as he remained faithful to the notation. Next came “Prabhu amar, priyo amar”, based on Behag. The song would have sounded better had Chakrabarty stuck to the purer version instead of embellishing it needlessly.

After this, there was a pause in the programme caused by a great flutter as the mayor of Calcutta, Bikash Ranjan Bhattacharyya, barged in. He had to be invited up to the stage to speak, where he grandly announced the foundation of an important medical project in the city, and somehow managed to connect this information with the evening’s programme! Having provided this comic relief, he descended from the stage and left, waving at the members of the audience. No wonder, Sonal Mansingh had stormed off the stage after a similar show by Rajnath Singh.

Anyway, Chakrabarty picked up from where he had left, with “Monomohan gahan jamini sheshe” in Asavari. It was a moving rendition, as was “Amar matha nato kore dao” in Yaman Kalyan, which came next. There was, all along the programme, some problem with the tempo, especially between Biplab Mondal, who was on the pakhawaj, and Chakrabarty. Every now and then the laya seemed, quite obviously, to be flagging .

“E parabashe rabe ke” was probably the best-sung composition. Chakrabarty chose the less-known version, set to tala, drawing mystical cadences out of it. After this came the lilting gracefulness of Paraj-Basant in “Aaji e gandhabihur samirane”, the shuddh nishad heightening the spirit of biraha by stopping short of the calm restfulness of the shadaj. With “Maharaj eki shaje”, set in Behag with two, equally emphatic madhyams, Chakrabarty returned from romantic yearning to noble gravitas. “Eki labanye purno praan” was the most disappointing offering of the evening, primarily due to the hideous musical arrangement, more suitable to adhunik gaan than to the serious contemplative mood of the song. “Bahe nirantar anandadhara”, “Era por ke apon kore” and “Jharo jharo barishe baridhara” were without unpleasant surprises.

Chakrabarty excelled with “Jagate anandajaggye”, charting out exquisitely the course of raga Kedar that runs gently through this song. “Ei udashi haoar pathe pathe” was sung with just that edge of decadence which seems to inform the tone of the speaker who sings these lines to a beloved. Chakrabarty deftly captured the underlying pathos and frivolity in the appeal, “laho laho korun kare”, turning it into diffuse self-mockery. The grande finale was “Ebar nirob kore dao he tomar mukhar kobire”, bringing the evening to a fitting closure.