THE SHORTHAND OF EMOTIONS
The first installment of “Samvada” featured a venerable old-timer’s ambles down lanes of musical memory.
SEP 13, 2009 – THE FRUSTRATING AS WELL AS THE FIRST-RATE ASPECTS of Chennai were on display during the first installment of Samvada (“Conversation”), where RK Srikantan was interviewed by ‘Chitravina’ N Ravikiran. One the one hand, we appear to be a city that’s stubbornly resistant to change in some regards. We will insist on an endlessly formal set of preliminaries before the main event, with invocations and welcome addresses and chief-guest speeches and the awarding of mementos before the vote of thanks. You could walk in a cool half-hour after the stated time on the invitation and not miss a minute of the event that you actually walked in for. And yet, looking around the mini-hall of the Music Academy that was three-quarters full, it was hard not to feel a quiet surge of pride. Where else would you find such devotion to the classical arts that people would plan a Friday evening around listening to an old-timer’s irresistible ambles down lanes of musical memory?
For all his accomplishments, RK Srikantan, that evening, came across less a formidable vidwan, more a stern grandfatherly presence – obstinate about what constitutes tradition, mocking of modern-day indulgences, and yet impossible to ignore. Even as you shook your head at his unyielding stance on what music is and how it should be presented to a public, you came away awestruck by the profoundness of his convictions and his commitment to his art. You may not believe in certain things, but when someone expresses their beliefs with such single-minded passion, any scepticism is instantly sloughed off – and it was with a fervently nodding head that the audience opened up to Srikantan’s wealth of wisdom. How, for instance, could you not agree when he made light of teachers, today, who record lessons and ask students to adhere to them by way of “musical instruction”?
And how could you not laugh when he insisted that the singer should not look up or down – or to the sides, for that matter – but instead at the audience, a rule so apparently elementary and yet so often violated? Srikantan comes from a generation whose capitulation to the greater cause of music is impossible to imagine today – an age of singing four- or five-hour concerts in large auditoriums without amplifying technology, an age when students would practice the same raga for months (just heeding the basics as laid out by the guru, without venturing forth on the wings of their own imagination), an age where going to a sabha meant listening to a Musiri launching into a Kanakashaila or a Semmangudi elaborating a Thodi, an age where a Patnam Subramanya Iyer would rest for at least a week between concerts (something that, if followed today, would result in loss of revenue, publicity, possibly even the career of one’s dreams).
Between Ravikiran’s patient prodding, the audience was allowed to submit questions – some incredulous (like the one that wondered about the importance of a guru, which prompted Srikantan to launch, unsurprisingly, into Guruleka yetuvanti), and some that gave the vidwan pause to reflect on philosophies close to his heart. There was, for instance, the listener who requested him to elaborate on the difference between a concert that was constructed on the edifice of populism, to reach out to the general masses, and one whose purpose was the demonstration of the musician’s vidwat, which would inevitably find its reach curtailed to a subset of the audience that was either venturesome or versed (or, in all likelihood, both). Srikantan addressed this issue at various points, insisting that the sole purpose of any concert (which he defined, incontrovertibly, as “teamwork with a vision”) was to deliver to the audience trupti, anandam, sowkhyam, peace of mind.
That, he stressed, was what a concert was about – not just meaningless “entertainment,” but with a greater purpose reflective of music’s stature as “the shorthand of emotions.” At one juncture, Ravikiran asked Srikantan about the “intellectual” aspect of music, but Srikantan firmly refused to endorse any sort of mental masturbation. Very simply, he explained that the concert ideal of pleasuring oneself as well as pleasing an audience would not be possible if it weren’t for the performer’s intelligence. He, therefore, dismissed several modern-day trends as the byproduct of the performer’s ego, whether it was the elaborations of rare ragas (poor Bindumalini bore the brunt of the abuse) or the incorporation of Hindustani-style components. “Will a Hindustani musician attempt a Thodi or a javali,” he thundered. “When our tradition is resplendent with the ashtapadi and the shlokam and the viruttam, why should we look towards the Meera bhajan?”
But Srikantan’s objections weren’t parochial – his contention was that we would end up imparting a Carnatic touch to these compositions. Even his insistence that ragas like Bindumalini should not be lengthened beyond a limit wasn’t simply because the “accepted practice” was to veer towards the weightier ragas like Shankarabharanam and Thodi and Khamboji – it was because only ragas with “eka shruti antaram” between the swaras are malleable enough to survive wear and tear over a period. Srikantan pointed to the banner that hung above, bearing the legend Sampradaya, the 30-year-old archival and documentation organisation that made the evening possible. “We should foster tradition,” he said, as he proceeded to gently haul up TM Krishna, the president of Sampradaya, for the latter’s apparent transgressions against tradition when he notoriously presented the varnam as the main piece of a concert. “I’ll argue with you later,” Krishna replied spiritedly from the audience, leaving the rest of us contemplating the prospect of being a fly on the wall of that particular samvada.
Copyright ©2009 The New Sunday Express. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Nandita
September 13, 2009
Beautifully written.I love it when you do classical music pieces! This article and the transcript of the interview in The Hindu reminded me of your most recent interview with Prasanna..Can see where a lot his frustrations are coming from!
LikeLike
Prasanna
September 13, 2009
Pardon if this’s technical…did you get what’s “eka shruti antaram”?
LikeLike
a
September 14, 2009
it is always a pleasure to read your pieces on the classical arts.It reflects both knowledge and passion and always provides a “contemporary” insight-kudos
and you brought back the chennai in me.Yes, one of the most amazing things about chennai is its cultural and inteelactual leanings.It is a city where even the most obscure lecture finds takers-where you perform to a learned audience,where the kancheevaram sari sporting maami can spout french and talk satre while preeparing filter kaapi.
missing the city and cant wait to come back and whiff the cooum!!
LikeLike
brangan
September 14, 2009
Prasanna: I think he was referring to the intervals between the notes (swaram-s) having at least one sruti difference. Like how in a Western major scale, if you go, for instance, CDEFGAB (like Shankarabharanam) — you’ll get that feeling of “wholeness” when expanded, as opposed to say, a sharp or a flat popping up in between and limiting the “jump” from one swaram to the next. Does that make sense?
In the specific instance of Bindumalini he may have been referring to the characteristic vakram (meaning, you’ve given away a key selling point by merely launching into the raga) — so if you don’t use the relevant phrases, you’re not really elaborating that raga, and if you do use the raga’s flavour, you’ll run out of variations in a few minutes. I think that’s where he was coming from.
My personal problem with main-piece elaboration of rare ragas is that (a) you don’t know the swaroopam too well, so you can’t enjoy it the way you enjoy a raga familiar to you (in the sense that if the singer is good, you simply “enjoy” the music without being able to compare-contrast what they’re doing with something you’ve already heard), and (b) the point that is raised here, i.e. it begins feeling repetitive after a point.
Though it’s all up to the skill of the singer. I wrote about rare ragas here.
LikeLike
The Normal Guy
September 16, 2009
brangan : I think that Srikantan is very conservative about traditions of practicing music,looking at the audience , performing without mike etc.But,then I am also supportive of his decision to not to endorse any form of masturbation in the concert. Let that be a lesson to the youngsters of today.The kind of people that are growing up watching movies like Kaminey.Because today’s youngsters are tomorrow’s pillars.
LikeLike
vijay
September 18, 2009
Normal Guy, come on, apna haath Jagannath! 🙂
LikeLike
The Normal Guy
September 18, 2009
vijay : Yeah, it’s shocking to know the artists are doing it.Atleast , the youngsters who show up occupy the last seats in the audi so as not to be conspicuous.Sitting in the audience is one thing and using apna haath from the stage is entirely another. It’s very inappropriate.
LikeLike
Ganesh
September 18, 2009
Ur writing style flatters me. Brilliant again :). Btw … curious enough as it gets, i got to hav a doubt which i feel i can post here and here it goes:
The days of 4 hr concerts was when india was opening up to rest of the world on itself ( what i mean is not just the invasions of the mughals and the english, but on ourselves , post independence). That was a time until when, since there was no real mix of cultures of any sort, and considering that we south indians are pretty much resistive to changes and like just admiring a difference from the distance, to hav a tradition without being doped to the extent that u forget from where u started , really wasnt tough. Now is a time when u really keep to remind people ‘ im there ‘. As in if the likes of Raja Sir could be easily erased from the minds of common public in such a dramatic sense, if Amitabh has to remain what he is , he should present himself every now and then (until he dies) and show to the audience ‘look, im still there’. Coupled to this, is the fact that in any field whatsoever, this whole affliction to perfection seems to take the top notch preference. Perfection mostly in reference to synchrony (wrt any field whether it be cricket or music or an MBA !). Theres this sudden craze for a ‘robotic precision’ if i can use that phrase. The point is , all this being brilliant in its own terms, the moment we start stressing more towards a clinical and professional (as it means today) performance, the human part of it is largely compensated. What im trying to say is that, though the australian team performed magnificently and text book type with the likes of Glenn McGrath, still it is not the best of matches we witness. In fact, it is those mistakes , mis fields, dropped catches and adrenalin rush that makes the viewer stand on his toe. The whole aspect of ‘ Life ‘ is what we have probably compensated in trying to acheive what we feel is ‘perfection’. Whereas in those days, we can clearly identify some shruti slips, some gati variations out of talam which were present now and then in concerts, but the concert was 250 times more memorable because of the feel, the life, the lively interactions amongst performers. And yeah, this whole new thing of taking some totally unheard ragam, or some ragam that would just be there but no one has heard of (like those elements of the atomic tables after at. no 100 who no one even bothers abt ), and elaborating it for an hour, i mean, to do hours of homework on what all permutations of phrases we can use within the specified limit of arohana and avarohana is not talent and is in a way insulting music. Music is not some research or math. This is the very difference between an ‘ art ‘ and ‘ science ‘. We seem to hav totally lost out on the fundamental essence of it.
My question here on is, is this analysis right in saying that we are trying to reach the covalent limit of an ionic bond ? If yes, then is there any way we can juggle out of this mindset?
LikeLike
Prakash
September 29, 2009
Sorry to digress here-an earnest request-can you write a piece of Ilaiyaraja listing your favourite songs (something like what you did for ARR), i know it is not so easy!
LikeLike
Prakash
September 29, 2009
Sorry for the typo, read it as “piece on Ilaiyaraja”
LikeLike
brangan
September 29, 2009
Prakash: Wow! Now that would be a mega project. But I guess it will have to wait until something comes along. Even with ARR, the pieces came about becauss of the 15-year completion, and then because of the Oscars.
But here’s a completely off-the-top-of-my-head list-of-ten, if you like (I’m not breaking this down into genre, era and so on):
1. Chella pillai Saravanan — Penn Jenmam
2. Kanavu ondru thondruthey – Oru Odai Nadhiyaagiradhu
3. Ennai thottu — Unnai Nenachen Paattu Padichen
4. Maanada kodi poovaadum — Mudhal Vasantham
5. Uravenum pudhiya vaanil — Nenjathai Killathey
6. Vedham nee — Kovil Puraa
7. Ada machamulla — Chinna Veedu
8. Megam kottattum — Enakkul Oruvan
9. Radha azhaikkiraal – Therkathi Kallan
10. Pothikittu oothuthadi — Paayum Puli
As I said, very random list, but some of my favourite songs 🙂
LikeLike
Prakash
October 5, 2009
Thanks a ton, Baradwaj. Quite a RARE list comprising of the uncommon/unsung gems of the Legend. I haven’t heard many of these, will surely do now!
LikeLike
brangan
October 5, 2009
Prakash: They’re not really rare songs. Received quite a bit of radio play in their day. But then, I guess you’re not a thirtysomething like I am 🙂
LikeLike
Aravindan
January 29, 2010
Ah, That’s quite a list. Really Extremely glad to find “ennai thottu aLLich chendra”!
LikeLike
Nithya
January 29, 2010
Wow that’s a cool list! Shame on me that I have heard only 3 out of your 10!! But I am so thrilled to see Uravenum Pudhiya Vaanil. What a song! Beats the crap out of Paruvame in the same movie, though the latter by itself is an absolutely outstanding piece. 🙂
LikeLike
brangan
February 18, 2014
Dug up this piece to post about RK Srikantan, who died last night, and discovered a random segue into Raja territory…
LikeLike