Random thoughts on a maestro’s centenary…

Several years back when I first started listening to Carnatic Music, I was hooked by three regal styles. I was fortunate enough to experience two of those in person – the languorous bass gait of MDR and the sprightly energy of Semmangudi – at close quarters in the Navaratri Mandapam at Trivandrum. The third was always an enigma that gripped me when listening to a programme titled “Sangeetha Sudha” that was aired at 8.45 pm daily on Vividh Bharati’s local segment. They had a tendency to repeat a given set of albums at regular intervals and I remember looking forward to the next repeat broadcast of the lovely cadences of “Thamadamen Swami”.  I used to relish the unique rocking movements of that booming voice as it explored the highs and lows of Todi. That was my introduction to the genius of GNB. Not having seen any pictures of the master, that Todi somehow formed a mental image in me of a king of music seated on a throne and singing full-throated to a spellbound darbar! Much later when I first saw a photo of GNB, I was struck by the similarity between my mental image and the actual visage. My mental picture became much clearer the other day when I met GB Bhuvaneswaran, the master’s son. The tall, silver-haired Bhuvaneswaran bore a striking resemblance to the face in the old B&W photographs, complete with the vermilion dot and an aristocratic bearing! One could visualize the majestic voice toying with the notes and an imaginative mind conjuring effortless brighas to give the rasikas a thrilling roller-coaster ride. The audiences of yore were said to sway in a mesmerized trance to the music of the handsome god on the dais!

The difference in GNB’s approach to ragas is perhaps exemplified by his handling of Yadukulakambhoji. Yadukulakambhoji to me was long synonymous with that other singular genius, MDR. Slow, tranquil, soothing – these are some of the adjectives that sprang to one’s mind when this lovely raga was mentioned. Addicted to MDR’s approach, I was blown away when I first heard GNB sing Ninnu Sevinchina or Etavuna Nerchitivo… the tranquil river suddenly became a bubbly stream, the mature adult suddenly became a playful toddler who darted hither and thither. There were incredible highs and lows but the speed thrills did not rob the raga of its beauty thanks to the driver’s splendid handling. The lively cadence still retained a magic soothing effect. Savor it here:

[audio:01-Ninu Sevinchinane-lowbit.mp3]

The genius shed his mortal coils at an impossibly young age in 1965, while at the peak of his musical prowess, robbing us of several more decades’ worth of musical gold. The Carnatic fraternity is now gearing up to celebrate the centenary of the master who took its placid world by storm, ushering in not a whiff of fresh air but a gale force wind of innovation.  Let us savor those marathon 4-hr recordings complete with monumental RTPs and remind ourselves that innovation did not mean jettisoning traditions. With several memorial events lined up, albums waiting to be released and memories waiting to be relived, let us bow once again to the original “brigand” – he who re-wrote the rules and ruled the roost; the prince who would be emperor if alive today – GeNius Balasubramaniam!

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

One man who did not entertain any doubts and boldly went ahead collecting funds worldwide for the cause was V. V. Sundaram, the indefatigable impresario of Cleveland Tyagaraja Aradhana fame. Shri. Sundaram’s efforts coincided with some plans that we at Carnatica had made to dedicate an event exclusively to Shyama Sastri, highlighting his musical contributions and thereby drawing public attention and donations to a worthy cause. The initial idea was to have the event jointly conducted by Carnatica and the Cleveland Aradhana Committee but circumstances willed otherwise and it so happened that Shri. Sundaram’s event and handover of the collected monies preceded ours by a few days. That however did not preclude a full-fledged two-day Shyama Sastri Remembrance festival being conducted by us at P. S. High School, Mylapore on Aug. 14th & 15th 2008 with the full cooperation and support of Shri. Sundaram, silk baron Shri. Nalli Kuppusami Chettiar, Shri. Natarajan (ex-director, Doordarshan) and a whole bunch of enthusiastic artistes, donors and volunteers.

The event was conceived as a total exposure to Shyama Sastri’s music and compositions, the crowning jewels being the three monumental swarajati s in Bhairavi, Yadukulakambhoji & Todi. The first evening was dedicated to an explanatory concert featuring the three swarajati s wherein the renditions were followed by explanations of the lyrical and musical specialities employed by Shyama Sastri. The singers were Sowmya, Prema Rengarajan, Pala C. K. Ramachandran, Shashikiran, Ganesh and Nisha Rajagopal. They were accompanied by Nagai Sriram, Ananthakrishnan, Neyveli Narayanan and Nerkunam Sankar. The group rendition was an interesting effort and quite challenging because of the varying pAThAntaram s of each participating artiste. Unlike the annual Aradhana for Tyagaraja (where the ghana rAga pancaratnam s are rendered) or the less frequent Dikshitar festivals, there have been virtually no exclusive festivals for Shyama Sastri and there are also wide differences in the pAThAntaram of his kriti s that are in circulation. In that sense, this was a novel and welcome initiative to have a common platform. Adding lustre to the proceedings was the appreciative presence of experts such as Prof. T. R. Subramaniam in the audience.

The second day’s proceedings kicked off with a set of three mini concerts, again featuring only Shyama Sastri compositions by upcoming stars: Sriranjani Santhanagopalan (daughter & disciple of Neyveli Santhanagopalan), Prasanna Venkataraman (disciple of Sanjay Subrahmanyan) and Amrutha Venkatesh (disciple of Charumathi Ramachandran). Some rarely compositions were explored by these youngsters. Another highlight of the day was a Quiz devoted exclusively to the life & music of Shyama Sastri, conceived and conducted by Smt. S. Sowmya with assistance from Shashikiran and myself. A range of interesting questions was thrown up, that shed new light on the composer’s life and times. The slightly disheartening apsect was the low turnout, but that was amply compensated by the enthusiasm of the thirty-odd people who turned up!

The same evening witnessed a musical treat – four mini concerts by established vidwan s & vidushi s such as Vijay Siva, R. Vedavalli, Suguna Purushottaman & Varadachari and Gayathri Venkataraghavan. Barring one or two repetitions, all the concerts featured different compositions and served to bring out the plaintive emotions and poignant beauty of Shyama Sastri’s lyrics. As an exposition to lesser known compositions of the sensitive maestro, the exercise was a spectacular success. As for the fundraising aspect, we were a little underwhlemed by the scale of support from the general public. With the exception of a couple of wonderful individuals, most people – both in Chennai as well the active online diaspora – failed to back up well-meaning words with substantial donations. Let’s rest our case, reassured by the sense that Shyama Sastri and his music are miles above such earthly yearnings for money and fame. Justice will ultimately prevail and the composer’s descendants will – with the blessings of Kamakshi – have a brighter life ahead of them. May these efforts just serve as a starter course…

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

The birth centenary of Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer – Carnatic Music’s evergreen doyen, creator of a lasting musical paradigm and owner of a unique voice that moved millions – is being celebrated by the Carnatic fraternity. A man revered by many and reviled by a few, Semmangudi was arguably a fundamental pole around which the Carnatic world revolved for the better part of seven decades. Any historical account of our music would have the familiar balding figure at the forefront of the Carnatic pantheon.

There have been several memorial functions, concerts, audio / video / book releases and even a marathon 100-hour concert dedicated to the late maestro. However, on this centenary of the doyen, other than rehashing his familiar biography and long list of titles & achievements, we would do well to introspect on his singular legacy and assimilate many fine aspects for the betterment of our music.

Semmangudi’s monumental achievements and his towering musical persona are best appreciated when juxtaposed with some of today’s musical midgets who have successfully scaled the towering heights of mediocrity. There have been attempts, both when he was alive and in the recent past, to tarnish his legacy. This includes planted write-ups and ghost-written articles that carry more innuendo than fact. There were other attempts – mean-minded and mealy-mouthed – to downplay the doyen’s professional contributions, which are not mean by any stretch of imagination. Questioning the bhaavam of Semmangudi’s Bhaavayami may be fodder for the febrile imagination of the masses, but all it really does is highlight the narrow-mindedness of the questioner and an inability to respect a style that had the power to appeal to the same masses.

One worthy from Kerala – that fertile musical kingdom over which Semmangudi ruled for a good part of his professional life – recently placed the blame for decaying standards of classical music at the doorsteps of Semmangudi and Ariyakudi. For good measure, he also trashed Semmangudi’s work of tuning Swati Tirunal’s compositions and questioned the musical worth of that work. Maybe he failed to understand that Semmangudi was invited to Travancore, as the leading vidwan of those times, for his professional inputs into a documentation project on the life and works of the royal composer. And that he gave it his best shot, as behoves any professional. If that didn’t suit the critic’s taste, the noble response would have been to create a different set of tunes and cast them in the public domain. Nothing like public acclaim to validate a work of art, as Semmangudi himself would have told us. Moreover, such public acclaim for a different set of tunes would have created a parallel Swati Tirunal pAThAntaram , just like the several different schools of Tyagaraja that exist. More variety of the welcome kind, and certainly Semmangudi would be the last person to object!

On a more positive note, one feels that Semmangudi’s most lasting achievement is his creation of a generation of demanding, discerning rasikas who can distinguish and applaud true sampradAya sangItam . The Semmangudi style has spawned a vast shishya parampara and younger musicians have a towering role model whom they can aspire to emulate by employing the virtues that made him a legend – sheer hard work, single-minded sAdhakam and a total, fanatical devotion to the art. Long live the DOYEN!

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

Season ’07 started out for this rasika on a distinctly different note. Instead of the usual crowded, large halls featuring wildly popular celebrities in the heart of Mylapore or Alwarpet, my season fare for the past weekend featured two excellent, albeit lesser known artistes performing at intimate, clubby settings. The first was Bangalore Sankar, a senior Karnataka-based vidwan performing at a private concert organized by a group of rasikas who participate in an internet discussion forum! What made the concert doubly unique was that it was hosted at the residence of popular vidushi S. Sowmya who extended a personal warm touch to ensure that rasikas savoured not just the music but delectable snacks and coffee too! The second was an absolutely delightful, authentic Harikatha performance by senior vidushi Kamala Murthy, held at the residence of V. V. Sundaram, arts patron and impresario of the Cleveland Tyagaraja Aradhana.The experiences were a sea change from the routine season fare. The regular sabhas in season time tend to be madhouses with milling crowds chattering, forgetting to switch off mobiles and fiddling with noisy, crinkly plastic bags… a general atmosphere of disrespect towards the art, artistes and fellow rasikas keen on absorbing good music. It was therefore a relief to be in the midst of a disciplined audience who were there only for the purpose of imbibing the music, with socializing being relegated to the backburner. The curiosity factor also helped. Both Sankar and Kamala Murthy are not very much in the public eye and consequently get very little attention from the mainstream media. Word-of-mouth publicity is perhaps the only way to get more people to enjoy such fine artistes.

Sankar’s concert was planned along conventional lines with the popular Kedaragaula varnam, Bhajare Re (Abheri, Mysore Vasudevachar), Mamava Sada Varade (Nattakuranji, Swati Tirunal) and Enta Nerchina (Saveri, Patnam Subramania Iyer) among others, preceding a fine alapana of Kambhoji. The evergreen ‘O Rangasayee’ (Tyagaraja) was the choice and Sankar brought out the grandeur of the raga and the composition eloquently. But the best part of the concert was yet to come. The mood of the concert was lifted to sublime heights by a reverberating, pleasing tani avarttanam by the respected Mannargudi Easwaran and sustained by rousing slokams and devaranamas by Sankar thereafter. Sankar’s ease of handling Kannada as a native tongue probably helped in superb handling of the Dasar padas. He rounded off the concert with the lovely Nadanamakriya piece of the Mysore Maharaja (‘Shiva Shiva Shiva Bho’) popularized by the late Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer.

If Sankar’s concert was an illustration of sincere effort by a hardworking musician, Kamala Murthy’s performance was touching because of the sheer musical genius hiding behind a diminutive exterior. Huddled behind her small lectern, I almost missed the frail figure the first time I stepped into that room. Draped demurely in Kancheepuram silk with her small nose stud and earrings flashing discreetly, she swept the small audience off their feet by her eloquent presentation on the three most important Nayanmars featured in the Periya Puranam, interspersed with flashes of music that suggested a thoroughbred Tanjore grooming. She presented Harikatha in the time-honoured orthodox fashion, powerfully conveying the essence of the story, sprinkled with typical vernacular idioms and subtle humour. One of the joys of listening to a great Harikatha exponent is that sense of anticipation about when the musical phrases would erupt. Such phrases would be timely, purely classical and dripping with the raktitva of true Carnatic ragas like Begada, Sahana, Kedaragaula, Atana and Yadukulakambhoji. Harikatha wouldn’t be authentic if the music overwhelmed the storytelling. It has to be a like a divine sakkarai pongal, with music being the fine garnish of nuts and raisins atop the sweet pongal of the story. Kamala Murthy succeeded brilliantly in that respect, making one yearn for more of her lovely musical oratory.

The weekend with a difference made me wonder once again about the state of our music and arts. True, there has been a lot of media attention and coverage of the season and the celebrities that it spawns. But in the rush for broad-basing and popularizing the arts and creating stars, are we losing out on priceless but unheralded gems languishing at the bottom of the publicity ladder?

Ramanathan N. Iyer

Carnatica’s association with Viswanathan goes back a couple of years to the time when RmKV Silks – till then a Tirunelveli-based reputed silk house – was trying to make its mark in Chennai. Given the time-honoured connections between silk houses and Carnatic Music, it was but natural that RmKV would also be drawn into supporting and promoting classical art events and organizations. And we were very happy to be one of the first organizations that Viswanathan chose to associate himself with. I still vividly recall that first meeting. I went mentally prepared to meet with a 70-something, veshti-clad grey eminence, sitting cross-legged before a short wooden writing desk, poring over his hand-written ledger accounts. Imagine my shock and surprise when the assistant ushered us into a swanky, ultra-modern office and the man rising to greet us was this dapper youngster wearing a trendy full-sleeved shirt, elegant tie, rimless glasses and that engagingly pleasant smile!It was a pleasure doing business with a thorough professional like Viswanathan. He was disarmingly frank and very clear about his vision, objectives and budgets. And once he gave you a commitment, there was no going back, no dilly-dallying, no bargaining… just a determination that he would cut through the red tape and back you to the hilt to get the event done successfully. I believe these qualities can be attributed to his family’s business background as well as his technical qualifications – Viswanathan earned a degree in Textile Technology from IIT. He could talk to you in intricate technical terms about the dyeing technology behind the 50,000 colour silk saree that created such a splash in the media. He could enlighten you about the intricacies of the silk business and the challenges inherent in running a mega-store with 500 staff members in the heart of Chennai. His store celebrated its second Diwali last November, having established its name successfully in Chennai in a short span. He could talk with equal passion about his desire to do something for classical music and musicians. And he backed up his words with monetary support and human resources, most recently for our path-breaking Bharat Sangeet Utsav 2005, making sure it got unprecedented coverage.

I close my eyes and see him sitting there across the table during one of those event-planning discussions. Breaking away from the nuts and bolts of the event, he would share some interesting anecdote about music or business and laugh in that unique way of his, a silent but hearty laugh that shook his entire frame and lit up his eyes. He had an unbounded energy, be it for setting up elaborate colorful kolus for Navaratri complete with daily music performances or for endless rounds of the vast store to personally oversee tiny details. He ran a tight ship, being able to recall where exactly the saree of a particular shade was located in the miles of shelves. He had a natural flair to make visitors to his store feel at ease. But most of all, we at Carnatica were impressed by his openness to new ideas, be it for planning new events or considering an intricate musical theme for his upcoming range of silk sarees.

Forcing myself at this juncture to believe in the old adage that God makes an early recall of those whom he loves, I fervently hope Viswanathan Sir has found peace somewhere up there, listening to his favorite kriti based on the deity of his native Tirunelveli  – “Shri Kanthimatim”, Dikshitar’s masterpiece in Hemavati.

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

The toughest part was getting the large number of celebrity guests and awardees under the same roof at the same time. You had to be careful about seating arrangements, the precise order in which the awards would be given and who would give away the award to whom, keeping in mind diverse factors such as seniority, popularity and the most amorphous them all – ego – that fuzzy, inexorable, easily ruffled entity around which humankind revolves! You had to worry about the little things that go wrong at the last minute – a percussion group’s elaborate sound check that delayed the start of the ceremony; a celebrity rejecting the snacks and soft drinks on offer and insisting on masala tea (thanks Ashok, for scrambling!); late arrival of the mineral water crates; the frayed temper of a ticket-wielding invitee who had the misfortune of being seated behind a mammoth TV camera; a business tycoon’s sidekick hankering after the free pizza coupon; press photographers jostling for vantage points…

But these minor irritants pale before the wholehearted support we received from some of the celebrity guests. The bigger the names, the more humble and accommodating they were! Grand doyenne Pattammal – she who has conquered the world with her divine music and garnered much greater awards in her lifetime – bowled us over with her cherubic smile, childlike innocence and motherly warmth. Superstar Hariharan obliged each and every small request we made of him and captivated the audience with his spontaneity, his little on-stage cameo culminating with a Ramnad Krishnanesque rendition of ‘Lavanya Rama…’ (Tyagaraja’s gem in Poornashadjam)! The legendary SPB was not only punctual but also spent considerable time at the venue, even asking us at one point to forget that he was there and carry on with our duties. Chitra, South Indian filmdom’s busiest nightingale sat through the entire three hour show, performed with panache at the fag end, gave away a few awards herself and made sure to interact with some of the starry-eyed youngsters. Pandit Vishwa Mohan Bhatt, Vikku Vinayakaram, Director Vasanth… it’s a long list of truly remarkable individuals who set apart other engagements and gave us their valuable time and undivided support, attention and encouragement.

If everything went well and we’re smiling today despite the tiredness, it is because of that goodwill, the hard work of our team members and surely the grace of the Divine. At the end of the day we have received several bouquets of appreciation and of course a few brickbats, all of which we imbibe in good spirit, aiming for a much better show the next time around. Thanks for the support, folks!

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

Knowing fully well that the mad scramble for space in the Pancharatna enclosure for the 9 am rendition would begin a good three hours early, Shashikiran woke us all up at 5.30 am after barely four hours of fitful slumber. What the hell, groggy me wondered… boarding practice already for the new A380 superjumbo? He made us rush through the morning ablutions and herded us back into the trusty Carnatica jalopy for the 30-minute drive to Tiruvaiyaru. The hurry meant that our grouchiness was further aggravated by the denial of the morning elixir – freshly brewed Tanjore filter kaappi – which was beckoning us en route at Venkata Lodge. Coffee unfortunately is not fit to be “paaarselled”, unlike the hot pongal, idlis and chutney that we picked up there.

My sagging spirits were however revived, once we reached the bridge spanning the Cauvery. Having seen the dry river bed umpteen times and heard tales of misery arising from drought, the sight of Mother Cauvery in full prosperous flow amidst the delicate green swathes of paddy was indeed heartwarming. The faint strains of Nadaswaram music wafting in the breeze and the fresh rays of the rising sun helped enhance the charming serenity of the moment. Tiruvaiyaru and the area adjoining the samadhi was however the very antithesis of serenity. Madding crowds, honking vehicles, pedestrians and cattle jostling for five feet of road space and a palanquin procession bearing the Tyagaraja utsava mUrtti… throw in our angavastram-clad friends Manoj Siva & Shriramkumar with truckloads of vibhuti on their foreheads scampering towards the samadhi clutching their precious instruments and you get a picture of utter frenzy!

We stepped into the already jam-packed samadhi enclosure and somehow squeezed ourselves into place, betwixt a clutch of stately vidwans and colorful vidushis. The next two hours before the start of the group singing crept along as a singularly educative experience in the very Indian art of ‘adjustment’. Pushes literally came to shoves, elbows nudged solar plexuses and fine Cauvery sand crept into the folds of one’s veshti, as hordes of squatting un-gentle gents and un-genteel ladies ‘adjusted’ to accommodate the relentless inflow of newcomers into the few square feet of real estate before the black statue of the bard, segregated into tiny cattle pens by yards of nylon rope. True to form, the politicos and the paparazzi barged in precisely ten seconds before the start, upsetting and uprooting the carefully adjusted seating plans of us lesser mortals. Mridangists to the right and mridangists to the left, I ended up with Karukurichi Mohanram’s toppi resting on my right knee and another gent’s valantalai on my left knee. Pride of place in the middle went to a pouch containing Mohanram’s sruti-adjustment tools! The music started with the flautists led by Ramani Sir, rendering “Chetulara”, which ultimately ended up being the only coherent and serene presentation of the morning.

The actual pancharatna rendition got off to a bit of a wobbly start, with the women taking the lead. It took an uncertain few seconds for the men’s voice to be heard and even then the imbalance in pitch was too high for comfort. Probably the clustering of microphones around a few prominent artistes, not necessarily the most proficient in pancharatna rendition, on each side also contributed to the overall lack of listening pleasure. There were a few isolated figures among the sea of faces, singing their hearts out, with their devotion and dedication self-evident. This includes a female artiste with a film background on whom the TV cameras tended to linger more often! It was interesting to see the ripple of plastic smiles and flashing diamonds moving like a Mexican Wave behind the swiveling TV cameras! Hardly forty minutes later, the hype ‘n hoopla was done with and there was another mad scramble – god knows why – to vacate the arena. Tyagaraja was the last person on everybody’s mind during the next five to ten minutes of total chaos and mini stampedes. Musicians cursed, safari-clad securitywallahs yelled choice expletives and our friend Manimaran got pushed around by an overenthusiastic ‘rasika’ shoving his way to get near a popular lady musician.

When the dust settled and the crowds cleared, poor Rajam Iyer was still seated in the sand, his octogenarian frame unable to get up without assistance and looking quite befuddled by all the commotion around him. Helped to his feet, he was quite gracious and blessed us, insisting that youngsters come every year to the Aradhana and sing with sincerity and good pathantaram. We decided to head back to Thanjavur and get some rest before embarking on a temple tour in the afternoon. The parceled idlis and pongal having grown quite cold by now, we washed them down with some divine tender coconut juice from a bicycle vendor on the road back to Thanjavur. A few hours of sleep and a hearty Thanjavur lunch later, we set out for the temple of Bangaru Kamakshi, Shyama Shastri’s ishta devata .

The temple of Bangaru Kamakshi

Being not quite the busiest hour of the evening yet, the place was eerily calm. Shashikiran, as is his wont in such sannidhis, began to quietly sing “Devi Brova”, Shyama Shastri’s masterpiece in Chintamani. The priest finished the pooja, emerged from the darkened sanctum and dispensed the customary kumkumam and flowers and asked Shashi to sing something more. Out came “Palinchu Kamakshi” and once again I was left marveling how a divine presence gives an added lustre to the lyrics that one has heard umpteen times in concerts. Listening to the music with eyes closed, one could almost visualize Shyama Shastri sitting cross-legged at the same sannidhi, pouring his heart out to the Divine Mother. The priest later accompanied us around the temple as we took in the atmosphere and narrated some anecdotes from his memories. It was already past five in the afternoon and we had the Big Temple on our agenda before heading back to Tiruvaiyaru for the night concerts. The time constraint meant that we had to shelve the priest’s suggestion to visit Shyama Shastri’s house in the agraharam.

Shyama Shastri’s lyrics on the walls of the Kamakshi temple

For the first-time visitor, the Brihadeeshwarar Temple or Periya Kovil is indeed an imposing sight. The soft evening sunlight cast a lovely soft-focus halo to the massive vimanam. Skirting the hordes of insistent knick-knack vendors and a slooooow-moving gaggle of French tourists, we made our way past the enormous Nandi and into the inner sanctum. Time once again for some music, as Shashi & Ganesh sang a couple of Dikshitar masterpieces on Lord Shiva. As they wound down and we started to leave, a rather stout-looking dark young man at the rear of the throng of devotees started a sequence of Tevarams, in a rich tone and a typically traditional Odhuvar style. It was one of those purely thrilling moments that come one’s way occasionally. We later made the young man’s acquaintance and were pleasantly surprised to know that he was a disciple of the late KVN and currently pursuing a music degree at Madras University. Moving on, we climbed the narrow ladder on the southern face of the gopuram that runs upto the Dakshinamurthy sannidhi. A fine ‘Dakshinamurthe’ in Shankarabharanam from Ganesh and we were moving again, taking in the 108 shivalingams along the periphery of the temple.

Temple visits done with, it was time to head back to the hotel, freshen up and set out once again to Tiruvaiyaru. Shashi & Ganesh were slotted to sing at 8.15 pm, but we got there well ahead of time and sure enough, the concerts were running much behind schedule, thus giving us enough time for a quick visit to Tirumanjana Veedhi, where Tyagaraja’s house is located. You would easily miss the house in the blink of an eye, among several similar nondescript ones in that row, if not for the perfunctory toranams and extra fluorescent lamp on the occasion of the Aradhana. If you expected a serene classical atmosphere at the bard’s house, you would be sorely disappointed, for the Kalyana Mandapam next door was packed to capacity and the music blaring from the loudspeakers was the choicest dappanguthu from Kollywood. Tyagaraja’s soul has probably reconciled to the changing times, leaving us lesser beings to do the breast-beating about the decline in popular tastes…

The house itself is rather dilapidated and the man in charge was clearly in a hurry to lock up for the night, Aradhana or no Aradhana! We stretched his patience a bit, with the musicians in our group singing several kritis at a leisurely pace and Yours Truly lingering quite a while on the faded photographs and other memorabilia in the house. I was keen to visit the temple of Dharmasamvarddhani, but the late hour and the impending concert put paid to my hopes. Returning to the samadhi, it was good to see the large crowds listening keenly to the sequence of 20-minute concerts proceeding with clinical precision on the dual stage. As one set of performers concluded their act, the next was already tuned up and set to go on the adjoining stage. It was almost like watching a limited-overs cricket match and I was wondering when this condensed kutcheri culture would come to Chennai, where the concert durations are already in exponential decay during the season!

Shashikiran & Ganesh performing at the Aradhana

The short duration and the heavy demand for ‘slots’ means no alapanas, neravals and swarams. Sit down, reel off two or three kritis in quick succession and get the hell out… that’s the norm. It’s almost like an assembly line for the bard’s compositions and you do get an overdose of some popular pieces. But dedication, merit and class will shine through, no matter what. And it’s the sheer spirit of the occasion that is of supreme importance, amply reflected in the enthusiasm of the crowds even late at night, lapping up the evergreen compositions. We remained at the venue quite a while, taking in some good and some mediocre music, browsing around the makeshift stalls that hawked everything from tavil straps to timeshare holidays, running into several acquaintances, drinking watery tea and peeping into King Kunnakudi’s quarters where he was presiding over a mini-durbar. Heading back to Thanjavur late at night and onto Chennai early next morning, one’s mind was a mixed bag of the emotions noted at the beginning of these reminiscences.

Would I go back to Tiruvaiyaru? Maybe not for another Aradhana, but surely yes, at a quieter time… to take in the several sights and sites left unseen in this first outing. The Cauvery may not be as full, the paddy not as green and the tender coconut not as fresh as this first time, but the spirit of the saint will linger and beckon both musician and music-lover. Long live Tyagaraja!

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

We had made the reservation after ascertaining the hall’s availability from the Academy’s administrative manager and by paying the prescribed rent for each of the fifteen days that we reserved the hall. We also received duly signed receipts from the manager for the same. The manager never informed us of the possibility that the reservations could be arbitrarily cancelled at a moment’s notice, for whatever reason. We had contacted artistes, finalized the schedules and spent a large amount of money on publicity for these events when the situation changed dramatically overnight upon the Court’s interim order. All on a sudden, there was massive pressure on us to forego our reservation, collect a refund of the deposit money and vacate the premises. We respectfully pointed out to the Academy management that while we had no problem cancelling our reservation to uphold the greater interest of music, we would certainly undergo a large financial loss in view of the amounts already invested in the planned events, over and above the reservation deposit that was now proposed to be refunded to us. We would also undergo a loss in terms of goodwill from our sponsor and from artistes who had agreed to perform in these events. For a young organization that is dependent on bank loans and sponsor support for survival, the losses would be too high to bear. We made a simple request to the Academy that in exchange for our giving up the reservation, they recognize our sponsor during the Academy’s own festival.

We also promised our full, unstinted co-operation in the conduct of the Academy’s Annual Conference, even to the extent of transferring our own event and artistes in their entirety to be featured as the official Academy Conference, in view of the very short time that the Academy had to plan its event. We contacted several members of the Academy, irrespective of their factional affiliations, so that the events could be held in a spirit of unity, as a universal tribute to MS Amma. While we were waiting for the Academy to respond to our request, newspaper announcements were made by the Executive Committee (EC), publicizing the start of the Academy Conference on Dec. 19th, i.e. the same day that we had planned the start of our event. It may be pointed out that the court in its interim order did not specify a particular date or time-frame for the conduct of the Academy Conference. This hasty announcement put us in a difficult situation, as any objection from us would have been viewed unfavorably by the general public.

In spite of non-receipt of a favorable response or even a perfunctory expression of regret from the EC to our simple requests, we went ahead and cancelled the reservation to show our sincerity. We did this against the wishes of our sponsor, legal advisers, friends and well-wishers, in order to uphold the verbal commitment of co-operation that we made to the Secretary of the Academy, who also happens to be a respected patron and participant in Carnatica’s activities.

Unfortunately, our stance and request were viewed by some influential members of the EC as a deliberate ploy to stall the Academy’s proceedings and that we were trying to dictate terms of sponsorship for the Academy Conference. It is being alleged that we acted at the behest of one of the parties in the ongoing litigation concerning the Academy. The basis for these allegations is that copies of our hall reservation receipts appeared in court at the time of the hearings prior to the interim order being passed. Some EC members concluded that these copies originated from us and that we were part of a larger conspiracy to derail the Academy.

The very unfortunate denouement of this entire episode is that the EC has chosen a path of personal vendetta against Carnatica’s directors Sowmya and Shashikiran by barring them from performing at the Academy. Even more distressingly, this ban has been extended to Shashikiran’s brother, Chitravina maestro Sri. N. Ravikiran too, even though he is absolutely unconnected with Carnatica and has had no part in the planning or execution of the series that we had envisaged. Some of our staff members who are also performing artistes have been denied opportunities in this year’s concerts because of their affiliation with Carnatica. These decisions of the EC were conveyed to Shashikiran by two members of the EC who summoned him to a meeting at the Academy and also by the Secretary over telephone. The complete schedule of the Academy Conference released today reflects this decision.

We wish to categorically place it on record that none of the allegations is based on fact. We are not an interested party in the ongoing litigation concerning the Academy nor is our organization a front for any of the interested parties. We have not provided supporting evidence to any party to be used in the court proceedings. There was never any malafide intention from us or our sponsor to spite the Academy in its time of distress and gain personal and commercial mileage, as is now being alleged in certain quarters. Moreover, we also have written acknowledgements from the Executive Trustee that the hall should never have been rented out to us in the first place and that it was a mistake of the Manager. It is also now evident that the court was not informed about the hall being reserved for programmes by outside parties like us, when the hearings prior to the interim order were in progress.

Carnatica, in all its seven years of existence has been renowned for the respect and regard that we have shown for music and musicians. We have deep and everlasting gratitude for the support and encouragement that we have enjoyed since inception from several individuals, institutions and business houses. Both our founder-directors, Sowmya and Shashikiran are musicians who have deep respect for the great institution that the Music Academy is. Sowmya, Ravikiran and Shashikiran are artistes who enjoy public adulation on the basis of their musical merit and the abundant talent they have displayed since childhood. They have been performing at the Academy for several years now and have won numerous awards and critical acclaim. To pursue an agenda of personal vengeance on them on the basis of non-musical matters is highly unethical and unwarranted. Carnatica also hopes that the campaign of vilification against our organization, staff and associates will be stopped forthwith, since we have not been at fault at any point in this entire episode.

We fervently hope that all issues concerning the Academy are resolved amicably and that the institution is restored to its pristine glory and pre-eminent position as the seat of Carnatic Music.

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

This past week was one of those rare opportunities: a chance to be in the presence of a living legend – an immortal, ethereal minstrel who has had the privilege of transcending materialist and human barriers to reach that sublime state in which music is the only permanent, prevalent factor. Muktamma – millions of words have been written about her, about the peerless Brinda-Mukta pair, about the distinct characteristics of the Dhanammal bANi… but words are inadequate to describe the singularly exhilarating experience of being in the presence of such musical divinity.It was a private function at Muktamma’s residence, organized by a Coimbatore-based music organization to honour the veteran. Since Muktamma’s physical condition doesn’t permit her to move out of the house, the organization had invited a few of her disciples, some leading musicians, scholars and patrons to grace the private function.

It was a different Muktamma from the frail, bedridden figure I had encountered a few months back when some of us visited her upon hearing about her ill-health. At that time she was hardly coherent and scarcely recognized anybody, let alone being able to sing! But things made a dramatic change for the better, about a month ago according to her daughter Lakshmi.

It is a body that has weathered ninety summers… she can hardly move around, her attention span does not stretch beyond a few seconds on worldly matters and she has to be repeatedly reminded of names and faces. Yet what strikes the onlooker is the music that sustains her at this advanced age. It is not just flowing in her veins, it seems hard-wired into her very consciousness and it is the raison d’ etre for her existence, contributing a vitality that is masked by that innocent, cherubic smile! She’s entirely lost in that special musical realm, accessible only to a chosen few. The memory that fails her in regard to names and faces is able to effortlessly recall every line, sangati and nuance of musical compositions. She looks constantly at the sruti box for reassurance, but the voice is perfectly aligned at 4.5 kaTTai throughout. Occasionally the musical reverie is interrupted, as some image or incident from the past lights up a corner of her brain and she takes us on a stroll down memory lane studded with legendary characters such as Dhanammal, Naina Pillai and Brindamma. Then the thoughts trail off and we are back to some priceless sangatis from a bEgaDa padam.

An audience comprising such musicians as Sangita Kalanidhi Vedavalli & Sowmya (Muktamma’s direct disciples), Chitravina Ravikiran and K. N. Shashikiran (see picture above) sit at her feet spellbound as sprinklings from a chiseled kalyANi AlApana precede “kAntimatIm”. As the kriti winds down, she’s off to the next one, unmindful of our concern for her physical frailty. The benevolent teacher in her still loves to share nuggets from her vast musical warehouse and is a strict caretaker of the nuances of her pAthAntara with emphasis on lakSya for which the Dhanammal school is renowned. She sings a particular line and then asks Shashi, “Is this how Brinda taught you this sangati?”, reflecting the dominant position that the late Brindamma – elder sister and respected mentor – has in her life and thoughts even today.

I sit slack-jawed and overawed through an hour of some of the most pristine and sublime kEdAragauLas, bEgaDas, sahAnAs and bhairavis that I have heard my whole life. The word “treat” is grossly inadequate to describe the lilting sencuruTTi jAvaLi that effortlessly rolls from the nonagenarian angel… as we prepare to reluctantly leave the divine presence, Muktamma is still singing to herself. We step deliberately to one side, outside her line of sight and stand listening to her from the hallway and get to savour the most delicious treat of the day – Muktamma who has never been heard singing kalpanaswarams on the concert platform, reeling out two-speed swarams in varALi, ten beats from samam at “O bhAmanE…” in the padam “valapu dAsa”!

I am reminded of Wordsworth:

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

Balaji promptly and courteously responded, and since then we have been in touch off and on, mostly through e-mail. That relationship culminated a couple of days back with my entering the portals of #91, Ponniamman Koil Street, Adyar to be warmly and hospitably welcomed by Visalam mami, the simple and unassuming wife of the maestro. Armed with a scanner, laptop and a consent from Balaji, my aim was the digital archiving of the compositions of MDR, notated and neatly recorded in his own handwriting.

The “Compositions of Varadadasa”, mostly in Telugu and Sanskrit (and a few in Tamil & Malayalam) were written down by MDR in three slim notebooks. (At right is the first page of Vol. 1)

It so happens that soon after MDR passed away in April 1984, while the family was still grief-stricken and in turmoil, someone from Kalakshetra – the institution where MDR spent a lifetime – took away the notebooks. They presumably landed up in someone’s attic or in a dusty corner of the Kalakshetra library and had been lost for years. Visalam mami and Balaji had been trying very hard over the past few years to retrieve these priceless treasures, knocking on many doors and trying various sources in Kalakshetra itself. Balaji being in the US, it was even more difficult to follow up on those efforts, but as he himself said in one of his e-mails to me, “I am sure with his (MDR’s) blessings, I should be able to get most of them in the near future”. That has now turned out to be true, for the manuscripts were at last retrieved recently, with a lot of help from Sri. Rajaram, the ex-principal of Kalakshetra. It turns out that the notebooks were languishing in some forgotten corner of a library, uncared for and unlamented.

My correspondence with Balaji also coincided with the start of my involvement with Carnatica. Sowmya and I tried in our own small way to help Balaji find the manuscripts, but came up empty-handed. However, upon hearing about the retrieval, we offered our help with the preservation and Balaji graciously gave us his consent. We have undertaken to do the scanning work completely at MDR’s Adyar residence. At no point of time will the original manuscripts ever again leave the custody of Visalam mami. The digitized pages will be archived on compact discs and be with the Carnatica Archival Centre. It would be made available on demand to any interested music scholar, student or rasika. We will keep rasikas informed about the progress of the scanning and deciphering work and will soon publish a summary of the compositions with song titles, raga & tala information, language-wise breakup, et al.

This has been a labour of love for me personally, since MDR has been a godly, beloved figure right from the early age at which I was exposed to Carnatic music. Entering MDR’s house, being in the presence of his tambura, seeing Him smile benevolently down at me from the picture on the wall and savouring mami’s simple upma & coconut-jaggery sweet (authentic Kerala style!) were divine experiences, surpassed only by the divinity of MDR’s music!

– Ramanathan N. Iyer

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