Bengaluru’s exciting history of free, live music in a park

A man called Sunbeam Motha created a platform for musicians to perform in the heart of Bengaluru

Around six in the evening, music lovers strolled into Cubbon Park on a scenic strip, some sat on the rocks nearby, some squatted on the grassy ground, others stood under trees.

As dusk slowly crept in, a few hurricane lamps hung from a tree and provided light. Musicians soon took to the stage and the gigs began one after the other until about nine o’ clock.

That was in early 1982 when ‘Music Strip’, a novel concept in the realm of live music, began in the green and serene environs of Cubbon Park.

Bengaluru was still a sleepy city then but with a lot of musical talent crying for a platform to perform. Sunbeam Motha, a passionate music lover, came to their rescue.

Along with a few like-minded friends, Motha, who always championed the cause of free, live music, hit upon the idea of providing a stage for the city’s rich and varied musical talent as also free entertainment for music lovers. Initially, the live gigs took place on Saturday evenings but soon it was shifted to Sunday evening, attracting a larger crowd.

At the time, live shows were few and far between in Bangalore — a show here and a show there while regular shows at hotels came at a price quite beyond the reach of the hoi polloi.

The gigs began a little before sunset with musicians — soloists or bands — taking the stage one after another, Sunday after Sunday. It was not just western music; there were Indian music performers too. There were performances by women too.

“There was no dearth of musicians. In fact, we had to tell some to stop to accommodate those waiting in the wings,” says Gerard Sequiera, a close friend of Motha who also helped organise the show.

There were hard-core music lovers who religiously attended all shows and there was a floating crowd that spent an hour or so and moved on. Slowly but steadily, as word spread, Music Strip gained in popularity attracting an average crowd of about 50 or 60 on most Sundays, at times even more.

Well-known and not-so-well-known musicians performed at Music Strip.

Sequiera recalled the day when Bangalore’s top cop then, H T Sangliana, in plain clothes, walked up to the organisers and asked if he could perform. He belted out two pop numbers with his guitar.

Motha, who would have turned 65 years old last Tuesday (he was born on August 11, 1955 and passed away on April 10, 2009), hit upon the idea of Music Strip after travelling across Europe in the mid-70s where street music was popular. His dream was to replicate this in Bangalore, a city rich in musical talent.

Also, after returning from Europe, Motha developed a keen interest in Indian music, a sort of going back to the roots after the heady days of Woodstock, Beatles and Rolling Stones. He began attending the free Ramnavami concerts at Fort High School.

Motha wasted no time in launching Music Strip along with like-minded friends such as Peter Pires, Gerard Sequiera, Shorab Rubina, Geoffrey Pope, Michael Furtado and some others.

But sadly, with the authorities not in favour of such shows, Music Strip folded up after nearly three years, much to the disappointment of music lovers.

“Music Strip was a function entirely of Sunbeam’s personality. It was not just Music Strip but an ‘art strip’: all types of people fed off that energy,” muses author Jeet Thayil who did many gigs there right from the first show.

“So many bands were formed out of the events there,” he says.

Rajeev Raja, a flautist who performed at Music Strip on many occasions, reminisced, “It was a great meeting ground for musicians and a very discerning, listening audience. Those were the days when Bengaluru was Bangalore and the music never stopped.”

Thereafter, Music Strip morphed first into what was called ‘Sunday Jam’ with musicians informally getting together at different venues and then to ‘Freedom Jam’ which continued in one form or the other. In 1993, Motha launched a free rock concert ‘Night of the long Guitar’, where bands played all night at a farm on the outskirts of Bangalore. This initiative lasted for two successive years when it was halted by the authorities.

“It was pioneering of him to do these things without financial backing. His one aim was to promote music and young talent,” says another close friend John Mathew. Motha then got back to his leather products business, a craft he picked up while living in a commune in Germany in the 70s. He also indulged his green thumb at the farm where he lived, endearing himself to the villagers who called him ‘Bheema’.

In 2009, he passed away when he was just 54. His friends organised a tribute concert the very next month near Cubbon Park with some top musicians and bands performing. “During the concert, it rained. Yet, the music went on with the same spirit,” recalls Sequiera. Then, on July 5 the same year, some bands from Bangalore held a tribute concert at the Indira Gandhi Musical Fountain with a big crowd in attendance. A rare, free-spirited human being, Motha’s interests went beyond music. He was an avid traveller, an athlete and cyclist in his school (St Germain High School) and college (St Joseph’s College of Commerce) days. He was also an environmentalist and lived his last days in the lap of nature on the outskirts of Bangalore.