Seen, Heard Read
PNV Ram
Many of the recent concerts I attended have been emotionally rewarding. The first was a memorial tribute to a rasika, R Venkateswaran, a regular in the Chennai kutcheri circuit for several decades, who was at some sabha hall almost every evening of that period, taking bus rides, share autos and the like to reach his destination from his West Mambalam residence.
A
chemical engineer and materials management expert, he was described by a friend
as an asura rasika, meaning a monster of a rasika. The friend of course meant
it as a compliment, and there was much to commend in Venkateswaran’s devotion
to music and literature (I learnt of his considerable interest in the latter
only posthumously, though). S Sivakumar, freelance journalist, and
Kulkarni, rasika and founder of the very popular music site rasikas.org were
among the speakers on the occasion.
As
warmly and affectionately rendered as the speeches was Sriram Parasuram’s vocal
recital, accompanied by Sertalai Ananthakrishnan on the mridangam, KV
Gopalakrishnan on the khanjira, and Gurumurti Vaidya on the tabla. Rendering
both Carnatic and Hindustani ragas and compositions, Sriram Parasuram was at
his evocative best in his Marubihag essay, as well as his twin offering of
Sriranjani and Bageshree.
This
consummate violinist is a marvel in the seamless manner he can straddle the two
Indian classical systems, investing every phrase with the appropriate rasa. His
exposition of the ragas and the musical and social milieu of the songs was
lucid as ever, and he even stopped midway to share a few thoughts with the
audience about the honouree of the evening. Sertalai Anantakrishnan’s
nuanced percussion was a revelation.
I
spoke at a recent community listening event of concert recordings of Madurai
Mani Iyer at PS Higher Secondary School, Mylapore, in a long series conducted
month after month, year after year, by his diehard fans including Venugopalan
and Vishnu Ramprasad, who developed and maintains the portal
maduraimani.tripod.org. The devotion with which the audience and organizers
together participate in a collective celebration of Mani Iyer’s soul-stirring
brand of music is probably unique in the world of commemorative
listening, resembled perhaps only by the following enjoyed by the likes of MD
Ramanathan.
During
my talk, I wondered aloud if Mani Iyer had cracked the genetic code of raga
music, sp full of the essence of Hamsadhwani were every swara and every phrase
of the raga was the Vatapi Ganapatim bhaje we heard that evening. “What is it
about Mani Iyer’s music that unites so many of us here today,” I asked ? “I
have been mulling over this question ever since Sri Venugopal asked me to speak
here. And the answer seemed to come to me out of the blue, when I was listening
to Anil Srinivasan play some gorgeous western music on the piano at Kalakshetra
a few days ago. Among other things, he played Mozart’s Twinkle, twinkle little star, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, some
Bach, Chopin, Schubert, preludes, nocturnes and so on. Much of the music was
celebratory of nature, tender, even cheerful, but there was no stopping the
tears welling up in your eyes.
Doesn’t
the pure voice of Madurai Mani Iyer have the same impact on us, whether he is
singing Tiruvadi saranam, or Eppo varuvaro, or Subrahamanyena
rakshitoham, Ka va va, or Rangapura vihara, or even the English note. To touch
the heart, melt it, you do not necessarily need profound sentiments, words of
bhakti, to bolster your singing, though those will obviously move us when
rendered in a clear, unsullied, sruti-perfect voice as well.
In
the case of a good soul such as Mani Iyer, profound, deeply evocative music
emerges not merely from his throat, his lungs or his diaphragm, but from his
heart, his whole being. It is an expression of the ananda, the bliss he
experiences in music. In Carnatic music, I can only think of one other vocalist
who had the same impact on the listener, no matter what the composition or
context. And that was MS Subbulakshmi.
Listening
to Sanjay Subrahmanyan in concert with S Varadarajan (violin) and Arjun Ganesh
(mridangam) for the Vidya Mandir Alumni Association on 17 August at the Music
Academy was a similar experience. Sanjay was in excellent voice and mood,
probably buoyed by the experience of singing for his alma mater and his old
schoolmates. If his Sankarabharanam raga alapana followed by Swara raga sudha was a grand tour de force, the
raga in which his handling of the lower reaches revealed a new strengthening of
his voice, altogether more sonorous and vibrant than in the past, his
variations while emoting the different bhavas of the later songs of the concert
like Chinnan chiru kiliye were at once majestic and
evocative, without resorting to sentimentality. He was in effect combining the
vocal gravitas that Carnatic music demands with the rasanubhava usually more
explicit in the popular genres of music than in the classical tradition. The
violin and mridangam were a perfect foil to the voice, making it a true
concert.
A
chemical engineer and materials management expert, he was described by a friend
as an asura rasika, meaning a monster of a rasika. The friend of course meant
it as a compliment, and there was much to commend in Venkateswaran’s devotion
to music and literature (I learnt of his considerable interest in the latter
only posthumously, though). S Sivakumar, freelance journalist, and
Kulkarni, rasika and founder of the very popular music site rasikas.org were
among the speakers on the occasion.
As
warmly and affectionately rendered as the speeches was Sriram Parasuram’s vocal
recital, accompanied by Sertalai Ananthakrishnan on the mridangam, KV
Gopalakrishnan on the khanjira, and Gurumurti Vaidya on the tabla. Rendering
both Carnatic and Hindustani ragas and compositions, Sriram Parasuram was at
his evocative best in his Marubihag essay, as well as his twin offering of
Sriranjani and Bageshree.
This
consummate violinist is a marvel in the seamless manner he can straddle the two
Indian classical systems, investing every phrase with the appropriate rasa. His
exposition of the ragas and the musical and social milieu of the songs was
lucid as ever, and he even stopped midway to share a few thoughts with the
audience about the honouree of the evening. Sertalai Anantakrishnan’s
nuanced percussion was a revelation.
I
spoke at a recent community listening event of concert recordings of Madurai
Mani Iyer at PS Higher Secondary School, Mylapore, in a long series conducted
month after month, year after year, by his diehard fans including Venugopalan
and Vishnu Ramprasad, who developed and maintains the portal
maduraimani.tripod.org. The devotion with which the audience and organizers
together participate in a collective celebration of Mani Iyer’s soul-stirring
brand of music is probably unique in the world of commemorative
listening, resembled perhaps only by the following enjoyed by the likes of MD
Ramanathan.
During
my talk, I wondered aloud if Mani Iyer had cracked the genetic code of raga
music, sp full of the essence of Hamsadhwani were every swara and every phrase
of the raga was the Vatapi Ganapatim bhaje we heard that evening. “What is it
about Mani Iyer’s music that unites so many of us here today,” I asked ? “I
have been mulling over this question ever since Sri Venugopal asked me to speak
here. And the answer seemed to come to me out of the blue, when I was listening
to Anil Srinivasan play some gorgeous western music on the piano at Kalakshetra
a few days ago. Among other things, he played Mozart’s Twinkle, twinkle little star, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, some
Bach, Chopin, Schubert, preludes, nocturnes and so on. Much of the music was
celebratory of nature, tender, even cheerful, but there was no stopping the
tears welling up in your eyes.
Doesn’t
the pure voice of Madurai Mani Iyer have the same impact on us, whether he is
singing Tiruvadi saranam, or Eppo varuvaro, or Subrahamanyena
rakshitoham, Ka va va, or Rangapura vihara, or even the English note. To touch
the heart, melt it, you do not necessarily need profound sentiments, words of
bhakti, to bolster your singing, though those will obviously move us when
rendered in a clear, unsullied, sruti-perfect voice as well.
In
the case of a good soul such as Mani Iyer, profound, deeply evocative music
emerges not merely from his throat, his lungs or his diaphragm, but from his
heart, his whole being. It is an expression of the ananda, the bliss he
experiences in music. In Carnatic music, I can only think of one other vocalist
who had the same impact on the listener, no matter what the composition or
context. And that was MS Subbulakshmi.
Listening
to Sanjay Subrahmanyan in concert with S Varadarajan (violin) and Arjun Ganesh
(mridangam) for the Vidya Mandir Alumni Association on 17 August at the Music
Academy was a similar experience. Sanjay was in excellent voice and mood,
probably buoyed by the experience of singing for his alma mater and his old
schoolmates. If his Sankarabharanam raga alapana followed by Swara raga sudha was a grand tour de force, the
raga in which his handling of the lower reaches revealed a new strengthening of
his voice, altogether more sonorous and vibrant than in the past, his
variations while emoting the different bhavas of the later songs of the concert
like Chinnan chiru kiliye were at once majestic and
evocative, without resorting to sentimentality. He was in effect combining the
vocal gravitas that Carnatic music demands with the rasanubhava usually more
explicit in the popular genres of music than in the classical tradition. The
violin and mridangam were a perfect foil to the voice, making it a true
concert.
RAM SIR GREAT WRITING TX TO YOU!
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