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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Miradasi by JustUs Repertory
By Chitra Mahesh
The Director’s Note in a beautifully produced brochure says:
‘’Born in an age of battles, bloodshed, betrayals –when God was worshipped as a warrior, an avenger and an exterminator!’’
And here she was, a significant member of royalty who saw God as
‘’A dancer, flautist, lover and a healer.
She saw society without gender and caste bias, faith as freedom not slavery, and creativity as grace.’’
The note continues:
‘’In our age of extremism, terrorism, we need to see God as an artist, art as wisdom, imagination as survival.
Miradasi reinterprets poetry and music to reclaim human responsibilities.’’
The production presented at the gracious Rukmini Arangam, Kalashetra Foundation recently actually brought all these strands of thoughts together to be woven into a simple yet superbly eloquent ode to the woman who knew her mind and went after what she believed in.
In that context it has so much relevance and so much to offer even today! And if one were to draw parallels between different art forms and their exemplification of what is empowerment – one would like to point out how in sync this is with the popular medium of cinema too- the film Pink being a case in point- where attention is drawn to the important fact that a woman doesknow her mind. And if she says something, she probably means it. And she can follow her heart if she chooses! Isn’t that what Mira did so long ago? That essential strength and determination? It was there then and it is relevant even more now! Just as peace, compassion and love are the foundations of true Divinity.
Miradasi by Justus Repertory starts out as a tribute to MS Subbulakshmi and Rukmini Devi Arundale, but goes on to draw a larger picture to a discerning audience – that of a world where music and inspiring tales heal, soothe and bring diverse people together instead of divisions and strife!
At the base of it all was a simple, tender narration of the well-loved story of Mira, the Rajput princess whose life was ruled by her love and devotion to Lord Krishna. Krishna, the beloved of the gopis, of Radha of Rukmini and Sathyabama, of the Bhagwat Gita and the great charioteer.
The Krishna who captures her heart as a little girl and blossoms into an intense longing for the Paramatma. Every thought,every gesture was offered to Him and He in turn danced to the music of her life.
Written and narrated by Gowri Ramnarayan, Miradasi was at heart a gentle production aimed at bringing back the healing power of music. The simplicity of the presentation was the core of the charm and the story was interspersed with the most impeccably sung devotionals – sometimes plaintive, sometimes hauntingly evocative and sometimes playful and joyous. One could imagine the mother Yashoda, the soul mate Radha, the angry Gopis and the earnest devotee through all the songs composed by Dilipkumar Roy and Pandit Falguni Mitra and put together by Gowri – the stage was set in a semi circle with Gowri in the middle engaged in the narration and the singers around, who took turns to take the breath away with their beautiful voices- Savita Narsimhan, Nisha Rajagopal, Amrita Murli and Vignesh Ishwar. Says Gowri, ‘’the songs are those I was privileged to grow up with and sing as MS Subbulakshmi’s grandniece and vocal accompanist- I was equally fortunate to sing for Rukmini Devi’s Mira Of Mewar.
HariTumHaro was set to music by R Vaidyanathan, who had also taught in Kalashetra- and according to Gowri, students Rajamani and Anjali Mehr contributed some compositions, as did Prof Srinivasa Rao and MS Subbulakshmi. Folk singers from Rajasthan came to teach traditional wedding pieces- the Raidas songs (JaoonTore, KamalLochan) came from Rukmini Devi’s sister, Visalakshi and from Kalashetra’s Dr Padmasini.’’
Adding to the soulful renditions of the songs were some background scores that included violin by Easwar Ramakrishnan, flute by Vishnu Vijay- so apt and well blended- tabla by Sai Shravan.
There was not much to distract from the singers and the narrator – all the stage had were the platforms on which they sat and strands of fabric that caught the lights (designed by B Charles) as they changed according to the mood of the song and the portion of the story. Audio projection by Akhila Ramnarayan, brochure paintings by Gowry Gopalan and production by V Ramnarayan completed the team.
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Dance Conversations 2016
By Shankar Ramachandran
Dance Conversations 2016, said the brochure about the two -day, four event seminar being presented at Irvine, California, by Ramya Harishankar and Dr. Priya Srinivasan. The event was scheduled on the Labor Day holiday weekend and, when Sruti Editor V. Ramnarayan suggested I join him at Irvine and take some photographs, I readily agreed. I didn’t know what to expect of the sessions but the California weather was bound to be salubrious. So I packed my cameras and a few iddlies and headed west. I’m really glad I did.
On the first day I was treated to a visceral conversation about the diminishing role of the media in covering and creating visibility for the arts. The panellists were as diverse in their views as their backgrounds would suggest.
Paul Hodgins painted a bleak picture of the rapid demise of the professional journalist and arts critic in the world of print and newspaper.
Mallika Rao spoke about the energetic world of Internet reporting and blogging which places an enormous potential audience to be tapped by the right kind of writing and coverage.
Ramnarayan addressed the challenges of steering a monthly magazine devoted to the classical performing arts and the difficulties of recruiting and retaining good writers willing to produce reliable and regular content.
The panellists led a discussion which underlined the importance of media coverage as one of the sustaining pillars of the performing arts. Visibility, dialogue and discernment which come from media coverage, were alluded to.
Mallika’s presentation using U-tube video viewership statistics for dance videos shed light on both the potential audiences available on the Internet as well as the fickle nature of the type of content, which attracts and receives the most views.
The role of local media in promoting performances is still undergoing big changes and declining readership was one of the major causes. Ramnarayan pointed out that the situation is significantly different in India where the daily newspaper still commands a very large and influential readership.
The panel discussion opened into a dialogue with the diverse audience which included both Indian and western dancers, teachers and students.
On the second day, the events began with a presentation at the local park adjoining the Irvine City hall. Here, in an open space surrounding a pool, a diverse group of dancers walked and swayed gracefully to the sounds of Carnatic music.
Dance students form Irvine Valley College seemed to float and intertwine with Ramya Harishankar’s Bharatanatyam students to the plaintive alapanas of voice, violin and electric guitar. The musicians moved along with the dancers, sometimes, sitting, sometimes leading and following at other moments. They finished by blending into the audience gathered there to watch them. Thus ended “Walking in Orange.”
Choreography: Dr. Priya Srinivasan and Susan Rose (Professor Emerita of Choreography, UCR)
Dancers: Danish Bhandara, Josiah Cortez, Nitya Dholakia, Andrea Garcia, Viviana Zhu, Mangala & Saru Janahan
Musicians: Mayuri Vasan, Kiran Athreya and Arun Ramabathiran
Percussionists produce an insistent pulse at once reminiscent of a temple in South India calling out to devotees and the hills . Yet the instruments and the rhythms are different. Besides tabla played by the talented Rabindra Deo, we hear a variety of percussion, including instruments from Central America. They sing and throb to the pulse of a single person, Christopher Garcia. He produces an extraordinary array of sound and rhythms, effortlessly weaving in and out of familiar Indian patterns to those of traditional Central America . We know we are not in India . This is the music and dance that has come to reside in Orange County, California.
The crowds gather in to sit, squat and stand n the large courtyard under a receding pacific sun. The Stars and Stripes flutters above a clock tower to the gentle breezes. To those same breezes, the tall trees whisper and sway. The dancers begin their movements. Students of Ramya Harishankar put on an effective show beginning with a traditional alarippu and finishing with Shiva Panchakshara stotram.
Bharata Natyam Reimagined used light costumes, minimal jewellery and makeup as if to bring the dancers closer to the audience and impressive music by Ramya and her students. This was punctuated with a variety of familiar and new rhythms to make the old new and the new old as it were. The dance was joyful, effervescent and full of energy.
ALARIPPU–Original choreography by Anusha Kedhar
Dancers: Shilpa Rajagopal, Shefali Appali and Visalini Sundaram
Musicians: Rohan Ramanan, Ravi Deo and Ramya Harishankar
– Choreography by Ramya Harishankar
Dancers: Bala Janahan, Nidhi Satyadev, Sumani Sadam, Raashi Subramanya, Pallavi Malladi, Nitya Parthasarathy, Gayatri &
Anjali Subramaniam
Musician: Chris Garcia
DANCER SUPREME– Original choreography by Ahila Gulasekaram
Dancer: Shreya Patel
Musicians: Ravi Deo, Visalini, Varshini & VinodiniSundaram
The final production was the very cerebral, yet humorous and provocative, Sweating Sarees. For this piece, the audience moves into Irvine City Hall Chambers. Here, with some of their students sitting in the seats where the Irvine’s elected councilors and Mayor preside over city council meetings, Ramya Harishankar and Dr, Priya Srinivasan use the space in front of them to create an informal presentation to explore Bharatanatyam as a process of learning and creating rather than as a mere performance. The multi media presentation evolves as a conversation with the audience .
Together they explore the historical significance of Bharatanatyam as it reemerges in the 20th century in India and later spread across the world with the dispersing population . Notable here was Priya’s dance evocative of her efforts as a student in California. And later, her earnest explorations seeking a deeper understanding in her interactions and study with Ramya .
Ramya’s own story as narrated, of her emergence as a dancer and teacher, are touchingly personal.
Her singing seated while doing abhinayam to the most exquisitely delicate padams reminds us of a world we have perhaps lost. Rich poetry sung to haunting melodies with nuanced emotions and detailed and etched movements; she brought us glimpses of that old world natyam that we don’t often see today.
This presentation may very well be a work in progress that will evolve and branch out as these artists reach out and work with others and seek to find greater relevance to dance in life and to life in dance.
At times, they were able to communicate their message without the words that seem to be ubiquitous in the world of Bharatanatyam today. It seemed that all three of the “performances” were fully expressive as dance per se and could be both presented and received without translation into words or commentary. Graceful, thought provoking, uplifting and inclusive, these conversations will surely continue.
Choreography by Ramya Harishankar and Dr. Priya Srinivasan with Susan Rose
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AN EVENING OF KRISHNA REVERIE - MIRADASI
By Impana Kulkarni
The songs of Mirabai have touched the lives of many. Amongst them stand two great artists of the past century - M S Subbulakshmi and Smt Rukmini Devi Arundale. MS sang for the film Mira (1947) and Rukmini Devi's last production was 'Mira of Mewar' (1984). Gowri Ramnarayan becomes the connecting link between them. Grand neice of MS and vocalist for Rukmini Devi's production on Mira, she learnt and enjoyed both their renderings of Mira's songs and brought them together artistically, in the recent production on Sept 17 by JustUs repertory in collaboration with Kalakshetra - 'Miradasi'.
the evening began with a book release by the Director of Kasturi and Sons, Sri N. Ravi, on M S Subbulakshmi, containing episodes of her life through the eyes of The Hindu. The stage lights then dimmed, creating a retrospective atmosphere; with two fluorescent light columns at the back, an installation of Krishna by Smt Gowri Gopalan on the right, seven musicians and Smt Gowri Ramnarayan – the sutradhari in the centre. With a bell’s sound she sprung into a picturesque description of Rajasthan, guiding the audience through the desert sands, till a palace window overlooking a pond, Mira’s seat of reverie. The musicians then echoed her thoughts – ‘Kamala nayana, kakamala charana…’ Savita Narasimhan, Nisha Rajagopalan, Amritha Murali and Vignesh Ishwar minstrelled to instruments recorded by Sai Shravanam,Eashwar Ramakrishnan, and Vishnu Vijay, and composed by Dilipkumar Roy and Pandit Falguni Mitra.
Gowri Ramnarayan walked through Mira’s life, pausing at every milestone moment, as the musicans sang pieces relevant to that time. Little Mira fell in love with Krishna's idol and sang hugging it. Vignesh Eashwar, the only male vocalist in the group, lulled the audience into a deep meditative mood singing ‘Jaun tore charan baladhari’, a Raidas bhajan. Golden verses of Mira like ‘Prabhuji tum chandan hum paani’ and ‘Baso more nainan me nanda lala’ instantly struck a familiar chord with the audience.
To Mira, her dream was her truth. She defied clan rules, family expectations and followed her heart. The Mughal emperor Akbar himself is said to have come down to hear her. When her husband wanted her dead, she wrote to Saint Tulsidas. Here Priyadarshini Govind and Professor A. Janardhanan of Kalakshetra enacted what might have transpired between Mira and Tulsidas, to Amritha and Vignesh’s music. Mira’s plea for guidance and Tulsidas’s gentle reply was simply and beautifully performed by them.
Gowri Ramnarayan's narration drove the audience's emotions high and low with every change in Mira's situation. The choice of ragas further strengthened the mood. For instance, while a 'Mayi mhane supane me' in Raag Talaka Bhairavi made us empathise with little Mira who dreams of Krishna, a 'Chaahkar raakhoji' in Raag Bilawal immediately lifted everyone's spirits.
Mira liked to call her Lord Giridhari; and Giridhari loved holi. Two students of Kalakshetra - Amalnath and Aryamba- presented a fun-filled raas to 'Jhoolat radha' in Raag Hindol, choreographed by Sri Haripadman.
In a time of war and conquest, Mira prayed to the Lord who dropped his weapons and conquered her heart; 'Mhara mann har leenya Ranchod re'. In him she saw the saviour. 'Hari tum haro jann ki peedh'. In just twenty four songs the show summed Mira's life and love through her own writings. Mira truly was, in Gowri Ramnarayan's words, an immortal artist and a constant lover.
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The Indira Sivasailam Endowment Medal
The Indira Sivasailam Endowment Medal to be
conferred on sisters, Ranjani-Gayatri on October 7, 2016
Chennai: The unequivocal choice for the Indira Sivasailam Endowment Medal and Concert 2016 are sisters, Ranjani and Gayatri, popularly known as RaGa. For the last seven years, the Indira Sivasailam Foundation has recognized an outstanding Carnatic musician based on an established set of criteria, which includes excellence in performance, audience appeal, adherence to classical tradition while innovating within its framework, depth of knowledge, demonstrated efforts to disseminate knowledge and the ability to bring about a greater and deeper public appreciation of Carnatic music.
The artist is selected by a panel comprising of members from the Endowments Committee of
The Music Academy, Madras, and Ms. Mallika Srinivasan (Chairman – Tractors and Farm Equipment Limited), daughter of Late Sri. A. Sivasailam (Former Chairman – Amalgamations Group) and the Late Smt. Indira Sivasailam.
The Indira Sivasailam Endowment Fund was established by Ms. Mallika Srinivasan in 2010 under the auspices of The Music Academy, Madras as a tribute to her mother Smt. Indira Sivasailam – a lifelong disciple and patron of Carnatic music, who was also an exceptional practitioner.The endowment fund is a realization of Smt. Indira Sivasailam’s strong conviction that south Indian classical musicians par excellence should be encouraged and recognized.
Ranjani and Gayatri are world renowned Indian classical musicians with professional experience of twenty five years. Known for their versatility and multi-faceted capabilities as artists, Ranjani-Gayathri forayed into the world of Carnatic music as children learning to play the violin. Training under Sangita Bhooshanam Prof. T. S. Krishnaswami in Mumbai, they made a name for themselves as gifted violinists, performing in leading sabhas all over the country and overseas. Their musical journey can be traced back to their family; having received their initial vocal training from their mother Smt. Meenakshi Balasubramanian – a Carnatic vocalist, and their father, Sri. N. Balasubramanian, who was instrumental in shaping their musical values.
Ranjani-Gayatri made the transition from violin to vocals under the tutelage of Padma Bhushan Sangeeta Kala Acharya Sri. P. S. Narayanaswamy and commenced giving vocal concerts since 1997. Their music honed over the years is unique, as their two voices blend and contrast to strike a fine balance between tradition and innovation. Their concerts resound with energy, ingenuity and emotional fervor.
The Indira Sivasailam Endowment Concert will be held, at The Music Academy, Madras, on October 7, 2016, marking the beginning of the Navaratri season.
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Conversations about dance
By R. Radhakrishnan
Conversations about Dance was a delightful as well as thought provoking panel that was part of a two-day workshop on the current state of Bharata Natyam, organized and sponsored by the EKTA Center headed by the renowned dancer/teacher Ramya Harishankar and the well known Bharata Natyam theorist Professor Priya Srinivasan. In this brief commentary, I will be limiting myself to some of the issues that came up in that panel, and in particular, the questions raised by V Ramnarayan in his well thought out presentation on the quality of popular journalism on the Arts, Music, and Dance.
Conversations presume two givens: that there is a subject matter to be talked about, and then, depending on the nature of the subject matter, that there will be a set of appropriate interlocutors and participants in the conversation. So, in this instance, what does it mean, “to have a conversation about Bharata Natyam?” Who should fix the terms of representation, and adjudicate normatively as to what kind of statements count as valuable discourse “about” Bharata Natyam? How formal or informal, how disciplinary or non-disciplinary, how specialized or general should the conversation be? Should anybody, or as the locution used to be, “all and sundry,” “every Tom, Hema, and Abdul” constitute the panel? Or, given the specificity of the topic, should there be some qualitative “gate keeping” in the selection of the conversational voices? Ramnarayan, in his capacity both as a connoisseur of Dance and Music and editor of the prestigious Sruti, talked at length about the difficulty of finding relevant and meaningful contributors to his magazine. Again, who should write? Who has earned the right to write? Who has the appropriate credentials? Given the general and popular character of Literature, Music, and Dance, should any one contribute? The Scylla here is some version of what I would term “professional or meritocratic Fascism” that mandates that only specialists should hold forth on topics that constitute their consecrated domain. The Charybdis of course is not to gate keep at all and let any one in on any panel on the basis of their fundamental common humanity and commonsense intelligence, sensitivity, and sensibility. As a professor in and of the Humanities here, I cannot but be reminded of Edward Said’s call, “Admit All,” and Antonio Gramsci’s declaration that all human beings are intellectuals, and that some become professional intellectuals by virtue of special training and erudition. His point is that the professional intellectual is accountable to the society at large.
Mallika Rao, one of the panelists, an online journalist, brought up the phenomenon of participation of one and all via Internet/YouTube/Facebook and the significance of things going viral. What does the going viral of an event, an image, a performance, really, mean, signify? Is it just populism? Is it populism with content? Is it value added populism? Or does it constitute an un-self-reflexive, uncritical fetishizing of the popular? Do we exclaim, “Wow! Something went viral” or “Viral? So what?” or “We will wait and see.” I remember that during the Q and A session after the panel, Professor Priya Srinivasan who was also moderating the panel, brought up the issue of ‘refereeing,” a term that is endemic to the world of professional publication where refereed publications count more than casual essays and commentaries. What then is a good way to combine the aristocracy, or elitism of value, (for after all the very word “value” is prescriptive and normative,thereby implying judgment and critique, in other words, “value” cannot just be arbitrary and merely descriptive) with participatory democracy? I also remember that Professor Srinivasan brought up examples of folks on Facebook opining, and making egregiously erroneous and misleading comments on Bharata Natyam: comments that need to be confronted and corrected, not in the name of the people and populist democracy, but in the name of Bharata Natyam. A teacher has the obligation to be didactic, and the imperative to teach. You cannot let people at large get away with “whatever” in the name of inclusive democracy, just as you should not allow specialists get away with obfuscation and intimidation by jargon.
This business of finding a judicious balance between professional arrogance and dumbed down populism is particularly delicate in the field of the Humanities: a field that is expected to be easy, simple, transparent, and instantly accessible to all. Jargon, argot, professional discourse is admissible in the so called hard scientific disciplines, whereas a jargon spouting Humanities academic is happily demonized as a pompous prig. The challenge here is to defend the use of specialized vocabulary in the Arts and the Humanities without allowing such a stance to harden into professional orthodoxy and insiderism. It is interesting to note that in response to this crisis, we in the Humanities have coined the term “generalist.” The irony of this coinage is obvious: one cannot be generally intelligent and insightful any more, unless the field of the general is itself reconstituted, within quotation marks, as “generalism.” Is this development good or bad, progressive or the retrogressive, inclusive or discriminatory? The very word “discrimination,” it must be noted, is double coded: it implies both virulent bias and critical taste. Lacking in discrimination in the latter sense of the word cannot be a virtue. It is interesting to note that Dr. Priya Srinivasan, while sharing her experiences as teacher/scholar/dancer, commented on a workshop she had once conducted for specialists and teachers alone, and on that basis, had to turn down general participation. My point is that there is nothing inherently undemocratic about such insider workshops so long as there is a porous and permeable space between experts and non-experts. Not only is there an urgent need for the amateur and the professional to be in dialogue; but there is also the further objective of creating the professional in the amateur and finding the buried amateur in the professional. After all, the basic motivating factor is “love” of the subject matter as the word “amateur” denotes, and different ways of loving the same art form should find a way to coexist and communicate, without rank or hierarchy.
The panel strongly highlighted the need for a space, or perhaps for spaces, in the form of a continuum with place enough for different voices to speak both discretely and in counterpoint to other voices and registers. There was also the concern that these conversations about Bharata Natyam should be transformative, and not stagnant. Ramnarayan, for example, addressed in brief the problem of identifying the right correspondents and writers for his journal, a specialist journal meant for readers at large. Should this writing take the form of popularizing Carnatic Music and Bharata Natyam without dumbing down their complexity? Or, should the journal aim for greater scholarly rigor and in the process forfeit a larger friendship? Or, should the aim be a via media between the two extreme options? The easy and banal way out is to evoke the formula: Let us give the readers what they want. But this is a sterile and circular rationale. How do we calibrate what the readers want except with reference to the menu that is served to them? The challenge here is that of transformation without presumption. What needs to happen is mutual education with bilateral consent. In saying this I am taking for granted that different constituencies that share common ground, each from her perspective, are interested in enriching the common ground through questions, challenges, and debates: in other words, a mobile common ground rather than a common ground as status quo. In all this, I have barely touched upon the phenomenon of changes taking place within Bharata Natyam: departures as well as breaks from Tradition, responses to World Dance as well as other dance forms, redefinitions of both form and content, questions of relevance both aesthetic and historical, classical dance forms then and now, modes of dissemination that may well run against the grain of so called “authenticity.”
My hope is that there will be many more such panels and dialogues across different thresholds of knowledge and expertise. It is inevitable that as conversations proliferate from different angles and in different arenas with different audiences, the theme or the subject of the conversation will itself begin to dance in response to multiple expectations and evaluations. The beneficial result can only be a well-articulated public sphere for the Arts and the Humanities that are in dire need of recognition. I will conclude by insisting that recognition is a matter of what philosophers and theorists call non-identical repetition. This is but another way of saying that there is recognition and re-cognition, with a hyphen. I am calling for the latter where there is room for increased and even contradictory awareness, and what is most crucial for the Arts, room for creative alienation and mis-recognition by way of recognition. “I know you but I don’t really know you; I understand you, but I really don’t get you.” is a great way to keep any marga going in search of the search, namelessly, and in the name of the all.
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Sax Meets Strings
By Chitra Srikrishna
The cello, piano and the saxophone are instruments that are strongly identified with western classical and popular music. Yet the latter two have made it to centre stage in Carnatic concerts. These are but the latest entrants in a long series of western instruments, starting with the violin (or fiddle as old-timers like to call it in India), fretless and regular guitars, the mandolin and clarinet amongst others, to have not only appeared but also flourished on the Carnatic stage. As with any change, initial audience reactions have ranged from curiosity and at times disdain and dismissal to surprise and eventually kudos. Yet artists old and young have taken the risk of not merely trying out these instruments but in many instances promoting them by playing them exclusively and helping them thrive. This happened as music writer A Seshan eloquently put it, through a “process of adoption, adaptation and assimilation” to the Carnatic idiom.
Have these instruments influenced the Carnatic form and if so how?
These instruments, it can be argued, have brought not just new sounds but helped engage youngsters and at times jaded elders in the Carnatic scene, by their very novelty. But have they helped or contributed the Carnatic kutcheri form to evolve? Carnatic music, as with any music tradition has evolved but not without rasikas or even artists at times being recalcitrant to change. For instance, when artists such as T.M. Krishna have attempted to innovate with nearly the century-old kutcheri or concert format, there has been a fair bit of criticism. T.M. Krishna himself in an earlier opinion piece in the Hindu had spoken critically of the adoption of Western instruments that are not amenable or capable of preserving the “aesthetic” of Carnatic music, most notably gamakas. Such conversations around change and innovation are both necessary and a part of continual evolution required for a musical tradition to thrive.
Sax meets strings
It is in this background, that I found myself looking forward to attending a recent concert, dubbed “Sax Meets Strings: a Carnatic instrumental concert” organized by Dhvani, an organization promoting classical Indian music and dance in Columbus, USA. Dhvani’s mission has been ‘art as education, entertainment, as well as a way of enriching our lives.’
The performers of the evening were Anvita Hariharan on the saxophone, Sandhya Anand on the violin and Vinod Seetharaman on the mridangam. I found myself intrigued by the title - Sax Meets Strings - rather than as a Saxophone concert. Once the artists were on stage, the seating of Anvita and Sandhya both facing the audience and with Vinod, in the typical mridangist position to the right of the artists was the first indication that this was to be a different performance. The concert opened with the invocatory song “Pranamamyaham” in raga Gowli, played together on the saxophone and violin, ending with an interplay of kalpana swaras. Then Anvita presented a solo rendition of raga Shanmukhapriya followed by the song “Vilayada Idhu Nerama” and kalpana swaras for the same. Sandhya then played raga Varali followed by Shyama Shastri’s composition “Mamava Meenakshi” with kalpana swaras for the song. The main piece of the concert was “Intha Soukya Manine” in raga Kapi which was presented by both artistes. Vinod explained the ‘thani avarthanam’ segment of a concert, which demonstrates the percussionist’s mastery of the instrument. He used konnakol (the art of performing percussion syllables vocally) to highlight the concepts of ‘korvai’ and ‘mora’. His presentation was crisp and clear. The concert concluded with a tillana, a composition of Shri Lalgudi Jayaraman in raga Mohana Kalyani, and Bhagyada Lakshmi Baramma, a composition of Purandaradasa in raga Shri.
Here was an instance of two young musicians, one with more concert experience than the other, playing together in good harmony yet showing a distinct style that reflected both their training and the instrument of their choice. Typical concerts that all of us are familiar with, usually feature a primary performer (whether vocal or instrumental) with both strings (violin) and percussion (mridangam) clearly in support roles. The biggest surprise and in turn the greatest pleasure for me in this performance, was the fact that the saxophone and violin were primary performers with the mridangam solely playing the support role.
Musicians don’t make an impact just while they are on stage - they leave behind lasting memories. As Victor Hugo said, “Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”
No two artistes are the same and the breadth and capabilities of each instrument are judged easier on a stand-alone basis. So any time two artists come together, as they did in Sax Meets Strings, the audience can never be certain how things would turn out. And when the two instruments are both western, one a wind and the other stringed and are paired equally to present a classical Indian concert it can pose a bigger challenge for the musicians and the organizers. These range from the simple - will one instrument overshadow the other, whether in sheer playing time or with their distinctive sounds improperly balanced, to the more nebulous such as how would the overall experience be for the audience?
At best when there is a duet, the audience wants one instrument to be a foil for the other so that the net effect is balanced. Sax Meet Strings was not a duet in the classical sense - but an innovative experiment, that demonstrated that even as western instruments find more acceptance in Carnatic music, they can help the concert form evolve too!
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Musings from Down Under
By Shobha Sekhar
Australia may conjure images of cricket in the minds of many Indians! But there is more to this island continent tucked in the southern hemisphere. With a constantly burgeoning Indian immigrant population and Melbourne being voted the world’s most liveable city for an unprecedented sixth year in a row – the city scored a near perfect 97.5 out of 100 – with top marks in healthcare, infrastructure and education, Melbourne’s art loving Indian immigrants have more to offer and share with the rest of the globe.
Melbourne boasts of a cultural calendar bursting at its seams. Events by resident senior artists, students, music and dance school annual concerts, and overseas artists from India constantly beckon the population to attend. It is the worry of organisers not to clash – and hence the need to have a Web Calendar to cross check the availability of dates!
For the sake of brevity this story will cover only the Carnatic classical music scene and organisers.
Australia, and particularly Melbourne, is a multicultural society. We strive, in this part of the world to propagate classical music to a broad spectrum of aspiring students regardless of nationality, religion, caste or even those who may be intellectually or socially challenged.
It may come as a surprise but there are several families who can be financially strained. These students get fee concessions. Being far away from the Indian roots – its culture and values, I strongly advocate to keep in touch by learning and practising some Indian art form. Many students may not blossom into performing artists but I believe the music education will help them appreciate India’s rich legacy.
# One of the main organisers in Melbourne is Sridhar Chari through his organisation InConcert Music. Sridhar is the disciple of Kumbakonam Rajappa Iyer and vidwan Umayalpuram Sivaraman.
Sridhar also learnt flute from Thiagarajan Ramani and teaches both mridangam and flute to aspiring students at his Laya Vidhya Centre.
Sridhar is the early bird who begins the year with a concert on 26 January – when both India and Australia celebrate their Republic Day.
In March 2016, veterans Neyveli Santhanagopalan, Nagai Muralidharan and Mannargudi Easwaran gave a memorable concert preceded by a choir. About 30 vocalists sang a song written (about Australia in Tamil) and composed by Santhanagopalan.
# Three music schools in Melbourne paid tribute to M.S. Subbulakshmi during her centenary year. On 6 May students of Jayshree Ramachandran’s Sapthaswara School of music enthralled the audience by rendering many songs and bhajans popularised by MS.
Sridhar conducted InConcert Music Festival as a tribute to MS on 17 June with a short multimedia presentation, songs from the silver screen by several artists and a thought provoking ‘Talking Dance’ presentation by Dr. Priya Srinivasan.
Shobha Sekhar’s Kalakruthi School of Music that is affiliated to Music Academy, Chennai, also had a two-day annual festival where students from her school and universities (where she lectures) presented songs popularised by M.S. Subbulakshmi.
# Two schools successfully had charity events to raise funds for Monash Children's Hospital which is part of Monash Health, Victoria’s largest health care service. It is a network of pediatric health care services across Monash Medical Centre, Dandenong Hospital and Casey Hospital. A new hospital is being built and is slated to be opened in 2017.
Kalakruthi School held a very successful charity event ‘Kala Kiran’ on 20 March. R.T. Chari, a Vice President of the Music Academy, Chennai, was the chief guest. The event had three segments: Nada Yoga – interactive yoga session for voice, a panel discussion to debate and plan future trends for classical arts in Australia, and bhajan led by teachers of various schools.
Uthra Vijayaraghavan’s Keerthana Music School runs an annual school concert every year in April to promote young talent and to give an opportunity for the students to perform in front of a larger audience. This year, the school and its members decided to run a special charity fund raising concert as part of the 11th annual school concert, in support of the Monash Children’s Hospital. The concert on the 9 April was a showcase of talents of all the students of the school, who gave commendable performances, accompanied on the violin and mridangam by students from other music schools in Melbourne.
A major festival held annually for the past 30 years is Ravichandhira’s Mummoorthy festival (see Sruti 383, August 2016).
The Iyer Brothers are veterans in Melbourne who established their Pichumani School in 1990. The school held its 26th annual school concert in May where junior as well as senior vocal and veena students performed.
Sundari Sarimpalli and her Swara Sadhana School celebrated the 10th anniversary this year with a concert by all her students.
The latest major event was VISHWA– a confluence of music and dance by leading schools of Victoria (State) under one unifying Umbrella Organisation FIMDV (Federation of Music and Dance Schools of Victoria), held on 13 August to celebrate India’s 70th Independence. It was one of Melbourne’s most well attended programme in recent times. The title VISHWA was coined as an acronym for Videshi (foreigner) and Swadeshi (citizen).
It was heartening to see a wide cross-section of nationalities including Alex Pertout, Former Head of Improvisational Studies from University of Melbourne, and all age groups – grandparents, parents and children – sitting in the front rows and watching with rapt attention). The women resplendent in bright sarees were complemented by their partners in equally captivating kurtas!
Vishwa began with a welcome speech by its president Rama Rao. Vasan Srinivasan, Trustee, invited the guests of honour Cr Jim Grivokostopoulos and Multicultural Commissioner C.S. Srinivasan. They spoke about the contribution to Australian Society by Indian immigrants and the rich tapestry of art forms they bring along with them.
Sridhar Chari and his students from Laya Vidhya Centre commenced the musical segment with a mallari on flute and percussion instruments – mridangam, ghatam and khanjira.
Vishwa Vitthala gave a spirited start to the vocal music section. Presented by Shobha Sekhar and Jayshree Ramachandran (both vice presidents of FIMDV), the two abhangs in praise of Lord Vitthala who reigns supreme in this viswa or world, brought to the fore the invigorating beauty of the 13th century poet-saint Dhyaneswar and 16th century poet-saint Tukaram. The vocalists’ presentations were rejuvenated by violinist Murali Kumar (violin), Sridhar Chari (mridangam) and Pandurang Torvi (tabla).
This was followed by Ek Sur – a garland of patriotic catchy numbers in a string of ragas and languages by Rama Rao and Uthra Vijayaraghavan, Secretary. Ably supported by the percussionists of the day (Sridhar and Pandurang) and young keyboard artists Sandeepan Pushparaj and Ravi Kumar.
The instrument ensemble PravAha demonstrated the coming together of different styles of music (Carnatic, Hindustani and Western saxophone), different instruments and sounds. Pravaha which means “flow’ aptly described the music as it streamed from one instrument to the other. Vainika Ramnath Iyer played Kalyani raga, followed by Nicholas Buff on saxophone (ragaYaman), Gopinath Iyer (veena), Saby Bhattacharya (sarod), Murali Kumar (violin), followed by Radhey Shyam Gupta (sitar). Sridhar and Pandurang on percussion supported in their respective Carnatic and Hindustani styles. The sound emanating had to be judiciously balanced by Charles Walker as the different instruments had very distinctive volumes and sounds. The energetic and culminating teermanams and tihai were well appreciated by the audience. Kudos to Ramnath (who co-ordinated) and his team for working together to present this 'Swara Pallavi'.
The intermission was spiced up by food from Biryani Mahal and was a precursor to an equally spicy dance segment.
Jhansi ki Rani is the story of the brave Indian warrior-queen from Jhansi. Tara Rajkumar (Trustee, FIMDV) directed the dance-drama. Enticingly coordinated by Ushanthini Sripathmanathan (secretary) and Meghala Bhatt, the story was brought to life by narrator and researcher Soundarrajan Iyer. This was an amalgam of different dance styles which highlighted the oft repeated cliche 'unity in diversity'.
Ushanthini and students of Natyalaya, in well designed costumes, portrayed the opening scenes of the legendary tale Jhansi Ki Rani - Lakshmi Bai, her expertise in sword fighting and leadership qualities to gear up an army in spite of adverse conditions and pressure tactics by the British in colonial India.
Ushanthini (Bharatanatyam) set the stage for the story to unfold. Mohini Bordawekar made a convincing presentation in Kathak with her chakkars well timed and flawless. Shyama Sasidharan (Kuchipudi) portrayed the fierce Rani Lakshmi Bai appropriately with poise.
Nithiya Gopu, one of the best dancers Tara has mentored, played her part in Mohini Attam style. The flowing movements as well as the Kalaripayattu (a martial art which originated in Kerala) appropriately narrated Lakshmi Bai’s conquests. The dancers came together in the final episode where the great warrior's prowess, unfortunately proved to be no match for the British might in arms and numbers. The finale Vande Mataram– I bow to you my motherland – again by all leading dancers in their respective classical styles was a fitting tribute on Independence Day. Jhansi ki Rani, effectively sent a strong message of women empowerment and a motivation for women to stand up for themselves in the face of repression or suppression.
The National Anthems of Australia and India aroused the auditorium with power and patriotism. Harmonious indeed!
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Let's bring the gurukula back
By Nagaraj Havaldar
Guru Brahma guru Vishnu guru devo Maheswaraha,
Guru sakshaat parah Brahma tasmaisree gurave namaha.
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This verse explains in its totality the importance of the guru in learning. The term guru means not just a teacher. It envelopes a huge canvas of different characters like a mentor, friend, philosopher, guide and so on. In the context of the Indian classical art forms, the gurukula plays a vital role. As a student of history, archaeology and Hindustani classical vocal music, I am convinced, both culturally and historically, that there is no substitute for a guru and the gurukula.
We all know that Indian classical music is mainly passed on across generations via the oral tradition. We do have a few texts on music and musicology, but solely by studying them in depth on his own without the proper guidance of a guru, I am sure nobody can become a performer.
Ustad Abdul Karim Khan, the doyen and founder of the Kirana gharana, started the Arya Sangeetha Vidyalaya, during pre-independence days. He had no fixed financial support from any quarter, but his zeal to spread and impart music was such that he would take a seven year bond from the student committing him or her to stay under his tutelage. As a result he could produce gems like Sawai Gandharva, Suresh Babu Mane, and Hirabai Badodekar. Sawai Gandharva in turn trained all time greats like Gangu Bai Hangal, Bhimsen Joshi and Firoz Dastur, to name a few.
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Karnataka is one state in India which has produced great musicians from both the Carnatic and Hindustani systems. The Wodeyars of Mysore, who were benevolent rulers, were directly responsible for patronizing both the systems. Mysore Vasudevacharya, as a young student, was sponsored by the kings with a scholarship to go and learn from Patnam Subramanya Iyer in Tamil Nadu under the true gurukula system. The rigour of his training with local gurus had been obvious.
Before Vasudevacharya started learning from Subramania Iyer, he was auditioned and thoroughly interviewed with regard to his previous learning. Despite knowing what ragas the student had already learnt, Patnam again started teaching him the raga Begada. Vasudevacharya thought that as it was the first day of learning, the guru had refrained from taking him to the unknown territory of a new raga.
But as days, weeks, and months passed, Vasudevacharya's individual training continued in raga Begada, though he was also allowed to learn other ragas when the guru taught other students like Tiger Varadacharya. As a young, exuberant, passionate and willing student, Vasudevacharya, however, was keen to learn some less sung and complex ragas during his individual sessions. He also expressed his apprehension that, when he was to go back and give an update on his learning, he would have to present something new to the king and the court musicians in Mysore in order to renew his scholarship. But the guru emphatically said that the sishya must go and present Begada which had taken a new dimension and a path by now. Basically he had imparted the methodology of developing a raga through Begada.
My guru Pt. Madhava Gudi's 28-year long association with his guru Pt. Bhimsen Joshi was a unique chapter in the history of Indian classical music. In our university education, ten years of schooling, two years of Pre University, three years of undergraduate study, two years of Masters, and four years of intense research can fetch a student a doctorate. This is 21 years of schooling and learning in different institutions, under different teachers. In the case of Madhava Gudi Ji, he always felt incomplete about his learning and conceded that he would not be able to sing a few ragas as exquisitely as his guru did. His story of learning from Bhimsen Ji began on a different note altogether. After an intense audition, Bhimsen accepted to teach the young Madhav at the age of 16. Madhav Gudi was a shy and innocent lad never dared to ask his guru any question or request him to teach a particular raga or bandish. It so happened that as he started living under the true gurukula system with his guruji, he also took part in mundane household chores. He would drop off the children at school, bring vegetables from the market, and iron the guru's clothes for the concert. Madhav ji also had the privilege of being a permanent tanpura saathi of Bhimsen Joshi. This routine continued for almost a year and a half without any direct taleem being imparted. The guru was happy that the disciple had become an integral part of the family but the sishya was worried about not being trained.
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Shishya Madhav Gudi and Guru Pt. Bhimsen Joshi |
One fine day Madhav gathered all his courage and asked Bhimsen, "Dear guruji, it has been close to 18 months since I came here. But for doing some chores, playing the tanpura and being with you (a privilege) I feel that my taleem has not started. May I ask you why this delay sir?" Chewing his pan, Bhimsen Joshi said, "Dear Madhu, who has delayed your learning? It is you, who were happy, busy doing the mundane chores. If you had asked this question just ten days after your arrival into my gurukula, I would have started to teach you right away. Please introspect; it is you who delayed the learning process, not me". My guru Madhava Gudi always said with absolute gratitude that, after this incident, his learning was 24/7. He even recalled learning a bandish in a car, with Bhimsen Joshi using the horn as both a drone and a metronome.
These gurus had a method, a vision of their own. It may look eccentric and strange to us, but they did produce great musicians who carried the tradition forward and passed it on to the next generation.
I had the good fortune of learning from Pt. Panchakshari Swami Mattigatti, a disciple of Pt. Mallikarjun Mansoor under the true gurukula order. Mansoorji and Mattigattiji had a strong bonding over twenty years. The guru was available to the sishya for any query on music even in the middle of the night. He did not allow the sishya to write down the bandish. He would teach the sthayi or the first half of the composition), ask him to memorise the words and the tune, and then teach the antara or second half of the composition. Mansoorji would even give a surprise visit to Mattigatti's room to have a random check of whether he was doing his morning riyaz.
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Guru Pt. Mallikarjun Mansur and Shishya Panchakshari Swami Mattigatti |
Despite this kind of a musical association, Guruji was a man of few words. The two of them never had a routine conversation about anything other than music. Once it so happened that Mansoorji had a concert in Dharwad, his hometown. As the concert venue was not too far from the house, they loaded the instruments in a tonga and guru and sishya walked behind it. After a few steps, the disciple noticed that Guruji's dhoti had a big hole. The student was in a dilemma whether to tell this or not to Mansoorji. Mattigattiji finally gathered all his courage to inform Mansoorji that his dhoti had a hole in it. As if he had anticipated this question, Mansoorji, said, "Hey Panchakshari! Tell me who is the singer? Me or my dhoti?" He then said imperiously, "Just tie a knot to cover the hole. Let's go and sing." Mattigattiji would always recall that Mansoorji gave an immortal concert that night.
It is the need of the hour to establish a true gurukula, to invite gurus of this nature and stature to propagate, preserve and promote our classical music. For all his strict tutelage under his guru, Mattigatti Guruji was a compassionate teacher. I was fortunate that he often stayed with us in Bangalore for a week or ten days, taught all the rare bandishes and ragas of the Jaipur school. This process continued for a period of eight years from 1996 to 2004. He was kind enough to allow me to record the classes. He had the vision to involve my young sons Omkar (vocalist) and Kedar (tablist) to be a part of my learning.
Mattigatti Guruji once accompanied me to the studio for a live broadcast at AIR Bangalore. At the last minute, we found out that the second tanpura player was unable to make it in time. I was about to cancel the live broadcast, but without a second thought, Guruji offered to play the tanpura for me. I fell at his feet and requested him not to do so. But he said, "I am only concerned about a good live performance. I will do anything for that, even if the singer is my disciple."
These are a few of the many great masters who stand as pillars of strength and reference for future. This kind of learning in Gurukula enables the student to imbibe everything about the music, the tradition, the Gharana, the pedigree and so on. Right from the way of tuning the tanpura to selecting a raga and what to sing for which occasion and other nuances can be inherited only by such a long and in-depth interaction and association with a guru. This is only possible under the Gurukula tradition. We can safely infer that this is true of Dance, Sculpture and other art forms too
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Birthdays & Anniversaries
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Padma Sugavanam
Young Voices
(Conversations with emerging artists)
By Sushma Somasekharan
Meet Dr Padma Sugavanam, an A-grade artist with All India Radio, who trained under the gurukulam environment with guru Seetha Rajan. A winner of the ‘’Most Outstanding Vocalist’’ award in the junior category of the Music Academy in 2014, Padma loves old poetry and languages. In evidence during her recent conversation with Sruti were the aesthetics and vision of her musical pursuit.
How did you come to learn music?
My parents noticed that I loved singing as a child; I had to be pulled away from mikes. Although they had no background in music, they returned to Chennai from Canada when I was hardly four, and decided that I should train in music.
I started lessons with Srimati Geetha Ramachandran, and later trained under Srimati Seetha Rajan, in the Semmangudi bani. For twenty years, I trained in a gurukulam environment, spending nearly all my waking hours at my guru’s house. While I did my B.A. Music through correspondence, I soaked in music through the day -- listening, analyzing and discussing music, witnessing Seetha Mami’s practice, teaching juniors, researching.
I am 35 now and married into a musically inclined family. My husband is a student of Hindustani music, and my mother-in-law is also trained, in the lineage of Sri Mysore Vasudevacharya.
When did you decide to start performing? It appears that you entered the performance arena at a much later age than your peers. Why is that so?
When I was 18, I won the Sangeetha Shri from RR Sabha (Trichy) after a gruelling 3-day competition with advanced manodharma. At 22, I was awarded an AIR A-grade as a double promotion when I applied for a B-High grade. These awards and grading gave me the added belief I needed, and concretised my dreams of performing.
Simultaneously, I was fascinated by scholars of the calibre of Prof N Ramanathan. My time with my guru instilled in me that academic scholarship was important. Hence, I pursued a PhD in Sanskrit and Musicology, interpreting musicological manuscripts from 2 BCE to 1600 CE. I also learned Telugu, and taught at the SV College of Music and Dance (Tirupati).
Music is ultimately a performing art, but marrying that performance with a strong knowledge in music theory was extremely important to me. I wanted to chart a path for myself, equally intense in theory and practice, academics and performance. This is why I performed very selectively until I completed my PhD. This time also helped me introspect and form clear views on music, before going full-steam into performing.
What was your PhD research about? What is its influence on your music today?
My PhD was a research on Kohala, a dramaturge and contemporary of Bharata. His works have been lost, and it was a challenge to triangulate indirect inferences from other manuscripts and works. One author who referenced Kohala significantly – Abhinavagupta - has deeply influenced my musical aesthetics.
Abhinava’s aesthetics has made me appreciate that music as a whole is greater than the sum of its parts. It is not enough if I focus on singing just the alapana, niraval or swaram well. The bigger picture has other intangibles that I need to get right. I think it is also due to the influence of his aesthetics, that I am a stickler for the ‘sound experience’ of my concerts!
You have spent much time studying both languages and music. So where do you find yourself now? Are you swayed more by the music or the language?
Language is rightly called the mother of culture. In my opinion, language gives us forms of expression, including poetry and music. Sanskrit, for example, has the ability to create new words spontaneously (through grammar rules of samasa), the variety of phonemes (aspirated, unaspirated etc),and the rhythmic structure of syllables (hrasva, dirgha, pluta)–offers a fantastic playfield for composition.
Each language has its unique ingredients. Knowledge of Tamil, Sanskrit and Telugu, allows me to appreciate poetry and its import – it adds to musicianship. I find poetry and music equally beautiful, and inseparable from the overall aesthetic experience. While singing Chinnanjiru Kiliye in a concert in the US, I felt almost overwhelmed – it is hard to say whether it was Bharatiyar’s poetry (on love towards a child), or the music itself. I think it was both.
You sound so passionate about languages, and poetry and its combination with music. How would you define your musical values? What can a listener expect, when she comes to your concert?
My musical values are to pursue excellence rather than popularity. Only if I am true to myself as an artiste, can I be true to the audience. I present music that is true to my sense of aesthetics - a traditional pathantara with weighty sangatis in consonance with the pristine raga bhava which also reflects the essence of the lyrics of the song. I also work hard on the sound experience – vocal clarity, tonal purity and resonance (I place a mike for the tambura).
Although I am considered to possess a flexible and fast moving voice, I believe in singing with restraint. I sing vilamba-kala items in every concert – I love the grandeur and majesty of the slow gait. I am from the old school in this respect – I prefer Test cricket over T-20! Even in Hindustani music, vilambit is considered the true test of an artiste’s mettle.
The ideal concert for me would be a sublime experience - where the artistes and audiences acquire a match in wavelength. I enjoy subtlety in musical expression, and admire musicians who gain popularity without resorting to populism. Music should intuitively appeal to the uninitiated, even before it intellectually appeals to the scholar. That’s the experience I want to give to my listener as well.
What would be your one lament about the ‘’kutcheri scene’’ today?
I believe that the common rasika (i.e. non-disadvantaged, non-underprivileged), needs to take ownership of ‘asraya’ – since we have long moved away from ‘Rajaashraya’, where the king patronized musicians. Today, several sabhas struggle for funds because most rasikas are habituated to expect free concerts. Paying Rs 400 is fine for a pizza, but not paying Rs 100 for a 3-hour concert with 20 years of sadhana behind it? This culture has numerous undesirable consequences, and it needs to change.
Your opinion on collaborations and other genres of music.
I enjoy all genres of music - but don’t want them getting mixed up. Music is without boundaries, but it should not be without identities. Classical music should not sound like fusion, and vice versa. Today, there is a trend of presenting a non-native version of Pooriya Dhanashri under the name of Pantuvarali. I love both these ragas but wish they would flourish with distinct identities, in their own genres.
I appreciate creative collaborations. Collaboration with dancers, is a welcome trend (in fact, in ancient musicology, dance, drama and music, were almost inseparable). I am now collaborating with a scholar of Tamizh and Vaishnavism, to present pasurams on a divyadesam relating to an area of my research interest – Bridal Mysticism. I am firm on the view that I will not experiment for the sake of experimenting; I would like to collaborate in a meaningful way, with serious musical thought and sensibility.
There are opinions from the public that Carnatic Music has not roped in newer and fresher audiences and is a dwindling art form. Having spent much time in the teaching side, in your opinion, how can the teaching structure be adapted to be more inclusive of all interested students and be made compelling for the new comers?
Carnatic music has excellent ambassadors for the future – talented, professional in approach, well-educated, articulate – and this tribe is increasing as more youngsters take to music. In the foreseeable future, Carnatic music should flourish as a niche art. Hence I do not agree with the opinion that it is a dwindling art form.
I do think that sabhas, audiences and formats of presentation – will all change. We will soon have Carnatic music presented through virtual reality platforms. As Darwin said, it is not the strongest or most intelligent species that survives – but the one most adaptable to change. We need to adapt our music to new pedagogies, new formats of presentation, taking full advantage of technology. Amidst these changes, though, we need our musical values to remain unchanging.
Sri Chitravina Narasimhan has developed a brilliant music pedagogy, to teach young children through association with day-to-day objects – where the child is constantly learning, without even realizing that something is being taught. We need to develop such pedagogies outside the rigid classroom structure, and introduce classical music through non-musical objects, folk music, drama and so on. I too picked up many facets of music in the gurukulam, just by being in a facilitating environment.
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