Purbayan Chatterjee talks about his collaboration with Mark Lettieri on Feathered Creatures

I started out around three years ago wanting to make an album that explored the electronica and psytrance space because I had become deeply fascinated by modern music production and sound design. Nakul Chugh, who produced this record, was already collaborating with me at that point, and together we were experimenting with textures that were very different from my earlier work.

Then, a couple of years ago, I had the opportunity to perform with Snarky Puppy. Mark Lettieri, who is the lead guitarist of the group, and I happened to be sitting backstage together before the show. We started talking about music and instantly connected. He asked me to show him some bends and phrasing on the sitar, and I asked him to show me some guitar riffs and ideas. Within minutes we were exchanging phrases and improvising together. There was a natural chemistry and a real sense of musical curiosity between us.

Later, Michael League, bandleader of Snarky Puppy suggested that the album needed some guitar textures, and Mark was immediately the first person I thought of. Initially, he was only supposed to contribute a few guitar parts, but over time the collaboration became much deeper. He started co-composing pieces, suggesting bridges, and harmonic ideas. The process kept evolving organically.

For almost two years we worked remotely — he was in Dallas and I was in Mumbai — constantly sending ideas back and forth. That’s actually why one of the tracks is called 9000 Miles, because the physical distance between Mumbai and Dallas is roughly that far. Eventually we brought the music to the stage and started touring together. Once we began performing live, the music developed an entirely new energy.

The strongest connection between Indian classical music and jazz is improvisation. Both traditions are rooted in spontaneity and require musicians to be completely present in the moment. At the same time, both forms are highly structured beneath the improvisation. In jazz, harmony often becomes the framework around which musicians improvise. In Indian classical music, the framework is melodic and compositional — the raga becomes the central structure. But the philosophy is very similar. In our music we may have sections like sthai, antara, sanchari and abhog, while jazz musicians speak about head melodies, bridges and choruses. Structurally, the two forms can communicate very naturally.

There are also fascinating overlaps between ragas and Western modes. For example, the Lydian mode shares similarities with Raga Yaman. Rhythmically too, there are common grounds. Teental can function like a four-four cycle, while Rupaktal can feel like seven-four. So when you look deeply enough, the language of music is shared. It’s still the same seven notes and rhythm. Once musicians learn each other’s vocabulary and musical diction, communication becomes effortless.

I genuinely believe that 90 per cent of musical training is learning to listen. Whether in music, business or everyday life, real communication comes from understanding where another person is coming from.

Cross-cultural collaboration teaches you to listen beyond your own assumptions. Every culture has things it takes for granted. For instance, in India, touching the feet of elders is a gesture of respect. We understand that instinctively, but someone from another culture may initially find it confusing until the context is explained. Music works in the same way.

Indian classical music often begins with an alap, which is free-flowing and without rhythm. A jazz or rock musician who is used to beginning with a groove or riff may initially find that unusual. Similarly, when someone from a Western musical tradition asks me about the “riff” of a song, I now immediately understand what they mean because I’ve learned their vocabulary too.

Once you begin decoding each other’s traditions and ways of thinking, listening becomes much deeper. That’s when meaningful collaboration starts happening — not when people try to dominate each other musically, but when they genuinely learn to hear each other.

I’m going to quote Ustad Zakir Hussain from his interview. He said that tradition is a point in time to which we are tethered. Let’s say I’m in the present, and there is the tradition of Indian classical music which is thousands of years in the past, so it is a point in time to which I am tethered, but it is a moving point. But then my guru Ustad Ali Akbar Khan who came thousands of years after Mia Tansen is also tethered to him so it’s a moving point in time. Tradition and the propagation of a musical culture is a little bit like propagating DNA, and we all know that when there is inbreeding, the genes weaken, that’s why the more the variety, the better the offspring.

It’s the same in music, which is why Indian classical is such a powerful genre. We’ve had so many external influences from Persia, from the Mughal era, there’s a whole parallel system of Carnatic music in the south, there’s influences from the gypsies of Spain and how they were inspired by us to produce Flamenco. It’s very interesting, and that is why in the world of art and music there are no borders.

What excites me most is the friendship we share. We’ve travelled together for years, spent endless hours rehearsing, joking and performing together, so there’s a tremendous amount of comfort and camaraderie between us. On stage there’s a lot of spontaneous humour and interaction, and I think audiences can really feel that energy.

At the same time, each musician has a very distinct sonic personality. Together we try to recreate the spirit of the great jugalbandi traditions established by legends like Ali Akbar Khan and Pandit Ravi Shankar, and later Ali Akbar Khan with Pandit Nikhil Banerjee. The beauty of those collaborations was that even though there were multiple instruments involved, the music ultimately felt like one shared soul speaking through different voices.That’s what we try to achieve as well. Music becomes magical when it stops being about individuals and starts becoming about collective energy.

Two things are very important to me now, and I often tell my students the same thing. First, you must embrace yourself completely — including your weaknesses and vulnerabilities. As an artiste, your work is ultimately an extension of your inner self. If you are not honest about your emotions, fears and imperfections, your art cannot become truly authentic. As you grow older, your musical evolution becomes deeply connected to your personal growth as a human being.

Second, it’s essential to learn how to fully experience the present moment. In improvisitional music especially, you cannot carry baggage from the past while creating. You have to remain completely immersed in the act of creation and savour every microsecond of it.

These ideas sound simple, but they are difficult to practise because all of us carry anxieties, distractions and self-doubt. But if you can consciously observe yourself, remain present and accept who you are in that moment, then meaningful art can emerge naturally.