Tabla and John Abraham

I recieved an interesting scrap in my orkut from a person with profile pic of Johan Abraham(in a written language which can hardly be called English)..I am pasting the scrap and my reply scrap. Let brevity be the soul of wisdom.

Sender: hello sankar..well took me half an hour to glance thru the profile..good one...well am a student doing my final yr electrical enng in guj..i have done visharad in tabla..play for my college band..my uncle plays good mridamgam..i also work with times of india..a reporter..cover the city news to campus buzz etc..well i wanted some good hands with hindu r any magzines whr i can contribute and thy pay u also..since u r more exp do let me know..i also breath eat and sleep music.! but tabla is a bit outdated na boss?..so u try any fusion? like a guitat with tangam.?..and do lend me good websites whr i can do a research in music..rest on the journalism side i really need ur help..nice to meet u.

My reply scrap : Dear friend, you called tabla an outdated one... will you call Newton's laws of motion an outdated one? Shall we think of a fusion programme with John abraham dancing on the tabla?

Music and Competition

While unexcitingly scanning through the TV channels, on a homely Sunday evening, I came across a boisterous debating session, in a popular Malayalam channel, which to my astonishment was apparently a film music competition. It was a verbal fight between some among the audience and the judge. One of the music candidates couldn’t get into the next round. And the judge was sued by the audience for that. In the dramatic turn up of events, the judge decides, to quit the event, the anchors attempts to reconcile the issue and pacify him, while the audience still debated on the issue of a few marks, which could push the candidate into the next round. Finally, the anchors decide to conduct a viewer’s SMS poll and the candidate requests the TV viewers to send SMS supporting her so that she could get into the next round.

This whole pandemonium churned out some thoughts in me on music and competition and that’s what I am going to pen down here.

First of all let me express my innate wonder over the competitions in music. What is music? Whatever form and genre be it… Is it something solely for competitions and marketing? Is it solely for entertainment? Is it something that is to be compared and evaluated? I wonder…

Let me express my deep agony over the society in which I live, where everything is a competition. Education is a competition. Ranks, marks, grades, and later, placements salary, cars, mobile phones, bungalows…Marriage is made a business...Everything is compared. We Indians evaluate people through comparisons alone. We ourselves legitimize everything evil like, dowry, corruption, etc through our own casual approach and silly thoughts.

Coming back, how can we compare the music in and from different individuals? If there is a competition in music, I believe that, it is simply a testimony to the ignorance and the pathetic level of approach of the people towards music. Is there a concept of ‘small’ and ‘big’, in music?

For instance, in a classical music competition how can a judge compare the Thodi and a Sankarabaranam sung by two different candidates? And if both the candidates sing Thodi, how can he compare the two Thodis?

Can you compare Semmangudi’s * Bhairavi with that of MDR*?? Definitely not. Why?? Because their approaches to Bhairavi are different. Their delineations are different in structure and intensity of ‘sangathis’. It depends on their general philosophical outlook to music. The mood Bhairavi generates is different in different individual. The interpretations are different, independent and exclusively original. Their voices themselves are far different. But Semmangudi’s nasal voice and MDR’s basal tone are both beautiful. Both voices have their own kind of taste and charisma. And it was their constant search for their own individuality in music, which produced the ever green music from both. The music woven by Semmangudi in his nasal voice can never be imitated or reproduced. It is his own. It is his copyright. He has put a stamp on his musical identitiy. And that has grown to a style or bani of his own. Same was the case with MDR. It is said that, if two MDRs sat beside each other, to sing, one can’t win over the other!! So much instantaneous and unfathomable was his innovation and originality! Such music was simply from the soul. And every human being has got a distinguished soul for himself. If one can appreciate this concept, he will never allow himself to be compared with someone else and he will never be interested in lauding a music competition.

So, music or art in general is about learning to live as oneself, carving a niche for oneself and sticking to one’s own distinctiveness. Does this get projected in a music competition, where the most common and vociferous film songs are repeated over and over, a thousand times, to create a total mental and physical cacophony? (I can’t opine that the Carnatic Musichood is totally free from such trends)

Nowadays, music broadcasted through the mass media lacks originality. It is by and large, not from the heart. It fails to appeal us (who truly value music), emotionally or intellectually. It is simply a preprogrammed exertion of memory, vocal chords and an inherent ability to imitiate. (I am not generalizing though). It lacks sensitivity, it lacks what we Carnatic musicians call Bhavam. Where is innovation, where is the subtlety? Does it emotionally ignite us somehow? Does it bring in us the sense of serenity and harmony?

When we don’t have sensitivity towards music, we are ready to compromise on anything, we are ready to go for competitions or similar marketing assignments and let our art be compared. In return we earn the false appreciations, from the community we live in… from the corporate world, we work for.

The students are made to see music or painting or dance, as a method to earn prizes and accolades. This is what has been happening in most of the cultural youth festivals in India (except in a very few movements like SPIC MACAY). They are not inspired or encouraged in the right manner to enable their minds to direct towards the emotional and the philosophical arena of an art. Then how can we stake claim for a student to be creative? If you ask someone, about the sole reason for him to listen music, he would immediately reply...”entertainment”. The students are never made to think that, music is just not for entertainment, it is for the process of purification of mind. For a man who has learnt the art of controlling his emotions through music, salvation (if such a concept exists) is simply attainable through music. Each musical exercise is a kind of purification of mind. It upholds the fact that peace and pleasure are inside ourselves and we need not madly run behind the materialistic entities and gratifications, like a musk deer constantly searching for the origin of the smell of the musk.

And why does this happen? Is it because human being is compromising on his humane capabilities and sensitiveness, for an intellectually inert and emotionally barren modern life? Can’t we do something to impede these ‘crimes’ on music and arts in general? Can’t we create a slight progressive development in the attitudes in our fellow Indians?

So, do we still need competitions? Whom are we trying to please by winning a competition, when we fail to please our own soul through our music? Anyway I firmly believe that, unless and until, we Indians, learn to forget the ‘art’ of comparing, we are never going to rise morally or intellectually, though financial accomplishments may come along.

Let me stop by recalling (again?) the definition of music given by MDR

M-Morality, U-Universality, S-Spirituality, I- Individuality, C- Creativity.

Musically,
Sankar

*Semmangudi- Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer, the bhishmacharya of Carnatic Music.

*MDR – MD Ramanthan, a doyen of Carnatic Music.

MDR and the Beatles

I am sure this title evokes no less than a tinge of curiosity among the music lovers, who are familiar with “MD Ramanathan’s music” (more than Carnatic music on the whole). I happened to hear this linking story from Prince Rama Varma (of Trivandrum royal family,an ardent MDR fan and disciple of M Balamuralikrishna), during the official release of a book on MDR named, “Kedaram”, authored by Sri Krishnamurthy, 20^th May 2006 (83^rd birthday of MDR), at Tripunithara, Kochi, Kerala.

Prince Rama Verma once happened to attend a summit of most renowned poets in English language, at a remote village near Amsterdam, Netherlands. This summit is of a peculiar class since the rules and regulations are set by the poets themselves and it’s not strange if the rules appear to have a disparity with the conventional social code of beliefs and religious doctrine. It is a summit of intellectual discussions. There are no restrictions on drugs, liquor or sex.

One day Prince happened to meet a gentleman. He was the PA of John Lennon, the most vital member of the Beatles, perhaps, the most avant-garde pop band that brought out revolutionary amendments in the concepts of pop music. Soon he fell in acquaintance and Prince, who was in his traditional attire, introduced himself as an Indian Classsical musician. The PA was moved and he started to share his life stories especially the times when he was with the Beatles. That was undoubtedly the golden era in his life. Money, fame, luxury, and everything known in the materialistic world were at his fingertips. There was absolutely nothing on which they could not lay hands upon.

But soon the flamboyant lives lead the whole Beatles into confusion and misery. They started realizing that they were missing something mystical and numinous in their lives. But they couldn’t correctly spot out the factor. In that state of utter dilemma and predicament, they decided to start their search for the ultimate truth. They started with drugs, later dropped it and tried upon meditation. George Harrison, came to India to learn Sitar from Pt Ravishankar.

After the death of John Lennon, the PA went to Himalayas and sat in meditation for 2 years. Later he started hearing Indian classical Music, tried yoga, traveled throughout India, as finance was never a constraint for him. Finally he reached down south at Mysore. One day as per the info from a daily he went to attend a concert and the concert was by none else than MDR. The moment he heard the voice of MDR, turned out to be the gateway for the satisfaction he had been searching for, throughout his desperate times. Yes, that was the truth his mind was madly probing for. That was the serenity his life was yearning to attain. And that was the end of all his agonies and quandary in life.

Yes this sounds ironical. MDR and the PA!! They were at the two extremes of practical life. The PA, who had had literally all the luxuries and achievements in life, was moved by the depth of the voice of a simple human being in another part of the world, who had lead the most orthodox and traditional musical life. The PA had no idea, what Sahana was, what Kedaram was, what Yadukulakamboji was, what Sriraagam was…He was not aware of the intricacies or the inherent ‘bhava’ of the music. What moved him may seldom be susceptible to a verbal description. But at least this can be stated without uncertainty, that it was the universality of Indian classical music in general and MDR’s music in particular that greatly moved and brought the peace in the consciousness of the PA.

After sharing the experience with the Prince, both of them broke into tears and embraced each other.

So this is what connects MDR with the Beatles.

To talk about MDR’s music is an herculian task, as far as one whole life time is concerned. He himself had defined Indian Music as Morality, Universality, Spirituality, Individuality, Creativity…

How true!!

PS: Comrades who are new to MDR’s music can read more about his immortal music at www.mdramanathan.com

When the strings stopped singing..

Cursing the sms sound that disturbed my afternoon nap, I got out of the couch and moved towards the phone, without much curiosity. The sms showed, “TS Babu sir expired”. I wasn’t startled. I just took a moment to adjust myself to my senses and the physical world. I rung up Narayanaprakash (a mridangist and usually the source of reliable information) and confirmed. Yes, Babu sir is dead. He was taken to the nearby clinic, in the morning out of uneasiness in breathing. Anyway he, a chronic asthma patient attained an easy death and an easy death is sometimes a great boon, than anything else.

I went to his home, a small, congested two storied house near the Poonthanam Junction. Yes, this house is quite famous among the artists. It is a halting place for all the artists visiting Calicut. It was midway between the bus stand and Thali, the musical capital of Calicut. A small crowd had assembled in front of his house, comprising of professional musicians and his lifelong comrades. Nodding my head out of respect, I curiously went inside the home, and stood still in front of his body, which was enclosed in a mobile mortuary. His eyes were partly open. Was he looking at all of us?

Sivakumar (his younger son) smiled at me. What an irony! But I could easily sense the deep valley of solitude he was in. Yes, his father was everything for him. His mother had expired long back. I didn’t know what to speak to him; was perplexed whether my words intended to console might go showy for him. I just patted on his back and came out of the house. The sangeetha sabhas of Calicut and the AIR Calicut had already paid their respects to this Vidwan.

I sat on the corridor, and slowly got into mild talks with the artists and my friends assembled there. Narayanan (a musicologist and a concert organizer) said, “you wont believe, I was listening to BV Raman & Lakshmanan, kutcheri with Babu sir accompanying them, today morning…they just finished RTP Hamirkalyani, when I saw the news in the TV”.

Before leaving I went inside again. SVS Viswanathan (the ghatom, Mridangam artist and son of SVS Narayanan) was weeping loudly.Yes, Babu Sir was like a father for him. He was telling Sivakumar, “Ennathum samshayam irunthunna ippo kettukko, cholli tharuvar…Konjam kazhinjal poyiduvar..” (If you have any doubts ask andlearn now itself, he will clarify, after sometime he will leave)

Hearing this, my heart started weeping.

The great teacher is dead. Outside the house I talked to Mr Krishnan, an old student of Babu Sir, and an admirer of his music. We talked a lot,..

Yes Babu sir was more a teacher than a performer. The term violinist is something that underestimates his credentials and yeoman service he rendered to music throughout his life. He was simply a great teacher. I haven’t learnt directly from him. Nor had I enouh chances to interact with him much. But I have been seeing and observing him a lot since my childhood. A small lean man, with humility encrypted in his innocent smile, poignantly radiating from his face like the notes of Poorvikalyani.

I wont describe him with the number of awards he got for his service or the grand appraisals he received in his concerts. It is meaningless and sinful to describe so, the great teacher who had structured his own life into a great lesson for his students. He would talk to me with dynamism and passion about his admiration for Palghat Mani Iyer (the emperor of the art of Mridangam), whom he always regarded as his Manaseeka guru. He would talk about Madurai Mani Iyer, whom he earnestly considered as his role model for a teacher.

The greatest failure (if ever it is one) in Babu sir’s life was that he didn’t sell his art. He didn’t earn accolades. He didn’t earn money. His life is nothing more than a silent epitome of the difference between a performer and a teacher.

A performer’s watch word is perfection. Constant practice and perseverance are alone the slogans of a performer’s life. His knowledge is limited, but he knows well whatever little he knows. He knows to present it well for the rasikas. His only feedback is that from the rasikas. Whatever they feel good, becomes his philosophy and style.

A teacher’s primary desire is in enlightening his students. To fully transfer to them whatever he has learnt from his guru. To enable them to judge between right and wrong. To show the right way for his shishyas to learn from nature and other musicians. To inspire their souls towards right learning, to enable them to step into the path of knowledge and wisdom. In the process, the teacher, forgets to sell his art. His livelihood out of music is not a matter for him. He has little time to rest or practice while his students are stepping up through the ladder of his life. His concerts are just unconscious efforts; his experience simply drives him on the stage, and his devotion simply produces the music, from him on the dias. Everything that he produces on the stage are instantaneous and innovative. There is nothing preplanned or programmed. Everything is subtle. He is not afraid of a new innovation going imperfect. Nor is he afraid of mistakes. He is not shy to commit mistakes. He is not worried over an ignorant man questioning his credibility. He makes beauty out of informality.

His comrades and students confer glory upon him. While the rasikas feel his music to be unpleasant, but pleasing them is not his goal. So in the concert, he plays the silent part and walks away with the small remuneration, if he gets any, to teach his disciples waiting for him at his home.

Babu sir was simply a great teacher.

Once he told me, “Playing for ‘arangetrams’ of students are the most joyous events of my life. If you play for Semmangudi, he may not remember you after a month. But if you play for the first concert of a budding artist, he will cherish you forever. And that gives me the real pleasure…” He was a man lucky enough to be born with absolutely no ego.

Once during his childhood, while he was practicing Ranjani at his home in Madurai, Madurai Mani Iyer who happened to come to his home then, benevolently advised, “Ri Ga Ri Sa-nu vashikathe da, Sa Ri Ga Sa-nu vashi….Ranjani-la appdi thaan varum”.

Babu sir was then amazed by the simplicity of Mani Iyer. Inspite of being the senior most Vidwan of his times, Mani Iyer, was humble and interested enough to correct even a small boy playing a wrong sangathi in the violin. Such was their dedication to the cause of teaching.

Once in a chamber concert in Calicut, Thiruvengad Jayaraman Sir happily exclaimed in between the concert, “Parungo, babuva..Njan enga paddi mudicheno, angenthu thooki eduthirukaar avar. Athan athodu seri, Appdi potta thaan enakke padarthukku inspiration kedaikum. Innaiku antha dharmatha kaapatheendu yaarathum ippdi vaasikarala?”

(“See Babu, he started from where I stopped. And he embellished whatever I sang to a better fashion, so that I get inspiration to sing more and more and there’s a mutual rapport between us. That is what is the dharma of the violinist. Is there anybody in the new generation who accompany like that?”)

It is meaningless to talk more about him, because his life itself was the message he conveyed and observing his life is more important than talking about him. He hasn’t left anything physical. I am stopping with a regret in my mind, “If I could spend one more day with that mahanubhavulu, …entharo mahanubhavulu anthariki vandanamu…”. May his soul rest in peace.