Of crows... and cartoons

FROM THE ARCHIVES OF FRONTLINE

Interview with R.K. Laxman. 

by gowri ramnarayan

JANUARY 31, 1992

"LOOK, I am tired of interviews. I don't want to explain yet again that I still don't know where I get ideas for my cartoons." That is Rasipuram Krishnaswamy Laxman, who has been tirelessly reflecting the bewil­derment of the mute millions of this country through his check-coated common man, a daily witness to the Indian political panorama. Over the past four decades the cartoonist's animadversions have continued to be witty, satirical and wholly funny.

Laxman's talent for drawing and painting surfaced in childhood and enabled him to illustrate elder broth­er R.K. Narayan's articles and stories (in The Hindu) while still at the Maharaja's College, Mysore, study­ing politics, economics and philoso­phy. He drew political cartoons for Swatantra, edited by Khasa Subba Rao. For six months, he was part of an animated film unit at Gemini Stu­dios in Madras before shifting to Bombay. After brief stints with Blitz and The Free Press Journal, Laxman ensconced himself as the editorial cartoonist in The Times of India.

After the explanation, "I want to talk about your crows, not cartoons," the eyes gleam, the smile appears and Laxman's irritation is replaced by interest. What follows is an up­roarious session. "You said it, Mr Laxman," even more zany, irrepress­ible and wide-ranging than could have been planned. These excerpts from that rambling talk the artist had with this writer focus on the car­toonist's passion for the common crow, a repeated subject of his pop­ular paintings.

Since when did you become interested in crows as a subject for your paintings?

As far back as I can remember from childhood, the crow attracted me more than any other bird because it was so alive on the landscape. In our garden it stood out against the green of the trees or the blue of the sky, against the red earth or the cream compound wall. Other birds are afraid and get camouflaged.

But this canny scavenger could look after itself very well indeed. As a three-year-old I observed it carefully, my hands always itching to sketch its antics. My mother noticed that I was becoming rather good at drawing crows and encouraged me because the crow is the avian mode of transport for Saturn, Saniswara of the Hindu pantheon. By drawing his mount was I averting his evil eye? Of course, I ignored this religious in­terpretation. For me looking at the crow affords pure aesthetic pleasure.

Granted, the crow is a perky thing to watch, but how does it generate aesthetic pleasure? It h

as no colour scheme or dainty shape, no beauty or grace to speak of.

It is beautiful for an artist. To me the peacock seems a very ugly crea­ture. I cannot bear its overdeveloped harsh shades. Its colour separation is an inexpert job. Perhaps the great Creator, after shaping all the beings of the world, used the leftovers to make this hideous thing as a joke. Otherwise, is it at all reasonable to find a front blue, a rear you cannot make out, and that great sweep, the train, an imitation broomstick? It can't fly much with that trailing tail, nor walk properly. This tail must have been an afterthought to feed vanity. And when it begins to dance, to me it appears most uncouth.

How much of your knowledge is backed by any ornithological study?

I know the birds, one picks up information as one reads and observ­es. But my main preoccupation is not scientific. I know that crows differ in colour and size in different regions, even within India. In Kashmir, the smaller, rather brownish crow has a call totally distinctive. Why, even in places near Bombay, crows have beaks bent at the tip like eagles. Some crow-fanciers swear that each locality in a city has its own brand—the Dadar crow is distin­guishable from the Warden Road crow. As I see it, the crow is the only bird with a gregarious, vivacious na­ture. It is the only bird which gathers before sunset on rooftops in rows for friendly chitchat.

Do you think crows have a sense of humour?

I think they are nearer human beings than other birds. And they are terribly intelligent. They keep an eye on arrivals and departures. That is why perhaps we believe a single crow caws to announce visitors. And do you know, a crow will come very close to an infant to steal its food. But it knows that after the age of four, a man-child spells danger.

Have you made friends and established wider contacts through a shared love of crows?

People keep sending me articles and clippings on the subject from many sources, from many places. Like the Station Director of AIR, Bangalore, after my radio talk on crows. Many others seemed im­pressed enough by my comments and observations to write to me. For instance, crows are adept at stealing the soft lengths of wire used to tie high-tension wires above electric trains. They are nesting material for the thieves who take them away as many times as they are replaced. An official told me that this causes a loss of six to seven lakhs of rupees each year to the railways.

Aha! I can see you falling a prey to crow lore! That is why I said let me talk about something more interest­ing than my cartoons!

Just how many crow paintings have you done over the years? Have you

drawn other birds besides crows?

I can draw any bird, of course. But I can't work them up into a se­ries. Owls, eagles, storks and hens are just birds—they have no character, no stories, no drama. I have painted hundreds of crows—singletons, pairs, threesomes, whole murders of crows (Don't look so horrified! That is the collective noun, not a bloody scene!). I have sketched crows from different perspectives, from near and far. In many moods, too. The crow has great pliability and flexibility for varied treatment.

An artist makes viewers aware of the common things around us which go unobserved, in the human face, in light and shade, in a tree, in a land­scape, mountainscape.... I want to bring those unnoticed aspects of the crow to viewer attention. And I think I have succeeded in making people see the crow as an essential part of our lives in this country. Visitors to India—diplomats and representa­tives of multinational corporations— often approach me for a crow or two because that bird is their most vivid memory of the country. One of my crows hangs in Iceland now.

Is your fascination for crows in any way related to your instinct for drama, for liveliness, for vivid humour as a cartoonist?

Well... I haven't thought about it that way. True, cartooning is not a dead art, it hits the eye as does the crow. If you can stretch your imag­ination and bend your logic, you may say there is a connection between my crows and my cartoons!

Do you enjoy modern art?

I am a great admirer of the Im­pressionists. I used to like contempo­rary art, but they all look the same to me now. The eye is gouged out of a child or woman, the figures are dis­torted into impossible postures. I humbly admit that I don't under­stand them and I don't know how anyone can derive pleasure out of such compositions, colours, arrange­ments, themes. As for more abstract work, that is totally confusing. Be­cause printing technology has im­proved so much, you find that such abstractions have crept into maga­zines and newspapers—to illustrate articles about water scarcity, floods or communal rioting! Somehow the editors have felt that symbolic repre­sentations would be far better than straightforward illustrations. This has led to irresponsibility among art­ists. They toss off anything—a stroke here, a smear there, and declare, "This is my vision of the Mandal Commission report."

Is it that you dislike abstraction and distortion? Do you prefer realism?

It is a question of suitability and beauty, of how you do it. Our gods, our heroes, our demons, our mythic forms, have all been conceived in ab­straction. Whether you go to Dwara-ka or Udupi, you find the temple idol has a dynamic and powerful stance. The temple sculptors took liberties with reality, but retained the quality of Indianness and infused beauty in­to their forms. I have studied their deeply ingrained sense of proportion and originality at Hampi, Konark, Khajuraho, Belur, Badami....

I find their work radiant! What a splendid figure of action the Natara-ja makes with hair flying, leg up­raised! Or take Ganesha. Where can you find such an exciting and unique design? It has humour and a sense of pure mischief too. And what a con­trast they offer! You strike a silence before Nataraja but chuckle when you see the elephant-headed god.

(Breaks off to look at a sari-clad Westerner passing by.) Just look at that. That sari is beautiful. But it is out of place on that large occidental frame, just as that brown and green clash with white skin and blonde hair. So, there is satire everywhere. You have to note it and shape it when you want it!

With your varied interests and zest for life do you sometimes feel oppressed by the fact of having to turn out a new cartoon each day as you have been doing for the last 42 years?

Not sometimes. Always. Every day I grumble, I plan to resign as I drag myself to the office. By the time I come home I like my work.

A multifaceted genius

or.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call the late Sundaram Rajam a multifaceted genius, said V Ramnarayan, for­mer cricketer and editor-in-chief of Sruti Magazine, speaking at the Narada Gana Sabha Mini Hall recently. Titled 'Remembering Sangita Kala Acharya S Rajam', the event recalled Rajam's avatars including that of a musician, painter, photographer, music teacher and an actRajam, who is the elder brother of renowned veena player S Balachander, has the credit of popularising kritis of Ko-teeswara Iyer, besides promoting kshetra keerthanas and vivadhi ragas."He was never an Agmark Mylapore maama. He enjoyed smoking cigarettes and eating non-vegetarian food. When he talked toyou, he made you feel like you knew as much as he did. He lived an extraordinary life," said Ramnarayan. "He guided the carnatic community with his rational and logical way of explaining his approach to music," he added.

On the other hand, Lalithaa Ram, biographer, focused on the artistic side of the legend. "He has done many series of water colours and illustrations, which had been published in magazines and books. In fact, the portrait of Sangeetha Mumoorthigal (Dikshitar, Thyagaraja and Syama Sastrigal) was originally created by him, but he never felt the need to patent his work," said Lalithaa Ram. He ran through a few PowerPoint slides, which showed Rajam's phenomenal con­tribution in the field of both music and painting. He was one of the rare gems who never indulged in self promotion. It's hard to see a wonderful human being like him," said Lalithaa Ram.

Vocalist Dr Vijayalakshmi Subramaniam, who has learnt music from Rajam, reminisced his penchant for effortless singing, "It has been five years since he passed away but I still hold a few memories of him close to my heart. He was always interested in exploring the lesser-known aspects of music. His paintings, which were deeply rooted in culture and philosophy, showed that he was a true performing ar­tiste," she said. S Rajam's son Ramamoorthy felicitated Ramnarayan and Lalithaa Ram towards the end of the event. The evening also saw a music concert by Dr Prema Rangarajan on vocal, Usha Rajagopalan on violin and Kallidaikurichi Sivakumar on mridangam.

— Express Features

Rashid Khan at the Music Academy

Please click here:http://epaper.deccanchronicle.com/articledetailpage.aspx?id=1569218

Uday Bhawalkar's dhrupad concert on 11 December at SPACES

Uday Bhawalkar in  Sruti Pattabhi Raman Memorial Concert

Members of the family of the late Dr N Pattabhi Raman, founder of Sruti magazine, present a grand vocal dhrupad concert by Sri Uday Bhawalkar, accompanied by Sri Pratap Rawat on the pakhawaj, at 7.00 pm on Thursday, 11 December 2014, at SPACES, 1, Elliots Beach Road, Besant Nagar, Chennai 90.

Sri Bhawalkar will also take part in a lecture-demonstration at 9.00 am on 12th December at Raga Sudha Hall near Nageswara Rao Park, Luz, Mylapore, as part of the 3-day Lec-Dem Mela organised jointly by the Karnatik Music Forum and the Sruti Foundation during 12-14 December 2014.

All are welcome.

Gowri's talk for the Soka Gakkai Society

Value Creation for Global Change
Talk by Gowri Ramnarayan
27 November 2014 

This has been a wonderful opportunity to learn about Soka Gakkai, read about the founders of the society, its goals and achievements.

Also, thinking about the subject made me reflect, revisit and re-live some experiences. I remembered our prayers at school, where every morning we chanted:

Buddham saranam gacchami

Dhammam saranam gacchami

Sangam saranam gacchami

My teacher explained, “When we chant these words, we are not thinking of Gautama Buddha alone. We invoke buddham – the light of knowledge, latent within each one of us. We hope that this light will help us recognize dhammam – the power of discrimination, to separate right from wrong; do right, shun wrong. Sangam is crucial to this process of self-awakening, because we must seek and bond with the community of wise people. They inspire us, and charge us with life-long resilience to continue the quest.

I guess my teacher was talking about a quest for values – on the terrestrial as well as the spiritual plane – for world peace, as also peace within the self.

It was with avid interest therefore that I learnt about how, in their pursuit of peace, the founders of Soka Gakkai created, reclaimed, sustained and rejuvenated values -- in times of world war and nuclear holocaust. 

To these threats our times have added a greater evil: global terrorism. Our age of excess has also fostered monstrous greed, and unprecedented ravaging of natural resources. Once destroyed, these resources are gone forever. They cannot be recovered.

Any endeavour to promote peace and prosperity today has to reckon with two sets of questions. 

First,

n      How to overcome fear?

n      How to foster physical courage?

n      How to promote moral strength?

n      How to find inner tranquillity?  

Second,                                          *How to control consumerism?

                                                        * How to prevent climate change?

                                                        *How to save the environment?

                                                         *How not to poison the air, the rivers and oceans?

                                                         *How to stop war? Bomb blasts?

One thing is crystal clear. Both greed and terrorism are not merely physical threats. They are threats to the spiritual life as well.

Reading President Daisaku Ikeda dialoguing with farsighted achievers in diverse fields -- is to join his stimulating, thought-provoking sangam with world leaders and public intellectuals. In these talks Mr Ikeda’s own comments, questions and reactions are marked by a deep understanding of the human condition today, and the possibility of transformation, before tomorrow. It is easy to see that he is motivated by compassion (karuna), for all the people of the world. A quality we associate with true vidya (knowledge) and genuine gnana (wisdom). “ I am particularly struck by how easily he encapsulates the highest truths in the simplest language.

To create a new civilization based on the dignity of life he suggests that: I Quote:

“Instead of being absorbed in the minor self of the ego, each individual must recognize his or her connection with all life in the cosmos. By doing so, we can escape our obsession with greed, advance along a more compassionate path, and bring about mutual happiness for ourselves, and others.” End Quote.

We all know that any hope of change is from the young, and they must be convinced before this change can happen. Young people are not impressed by bombast. They like it crisp and brief, but also honest. Look at the clarity with which Mr Ikeda talks about education – not as a college degree, but as a means of extending the frontiers of the human mind. I QUOTE: “Education at its best is a process of liberation from prejudice, freeing the human heart from violent passions. Those who have learned to trust in themselves, are naturally able to believe in the latent capacity of others.” End quote. 

Can you make a better case for education as empowerment, education as the means of dispelling mistrust -- which is a major obstacle to development? It seems to me that with this kind of approach, education becomes a healing process.

Nor does he confine himself to socio-economic welfare. He sums up a basic Soka Gakkai principle: I QUOTE: Only when its people are actively engaged in spiritual and intellectual struggle can the economic power of a country be utilized to the broad advantage of humankind.” End QUOTE

Today, as an artiste, I ask myself. In this process of creating humanistic values for international peace, global welfare and people’s empowerment, what is the role of the artiste? Does the artiste have a role at all? Any function at all?

Ask anyone, anywhere, to explain just why a doctor, an engineer, a scientist, an architect, an industrialist, a psychiatrist, a teacher -- is vital for the smooth functioning of a society. Or to tell you -- just why a plumber, an electrician, farmer, mason, weaver, potter, fisherman, metalsmith, is indispensable to civilization. Everyone will have an answer. But ask people, “How does an artiste contribute to the sustenance of society?” I doubt if you will get a convincing response.

So I ask myself, I had a role in society as a journalist, which I was for 25 years. But what is my role as an artiste? Am I an empty rattle? Timepass for idlers? Am I a provider of some temporary amusement? Do I fulfil any task in society? Civilisation? World? Do I have any duty, any responsibility towards others?

Then I recall that in the ancient world, poets had a defined role. They were not entertainers though they could mesmerize hearts and minds. The Greeks saw Homer and Sophocles as vates, prophets. Valmiki and Vyasa are revered as seer and sage. Closer to our times, Mirabai and Tulsidas were viewed as saints. Their work showcased the eternal values of humankind. The Ramayana and the Mahabharata were believed to be essential for building robust, resilient, sustainable civil society, and a spiritually-oriented community. Which is the goal of this symposium! These master works of literature provided light (buddham), explained dhammam (right living) and provided the sangam of wise thoughts.

It is often said that art has transformative powers, art transmits values, art generates ideals…  A recent experience made me understand just how art creates this insight.

For thousands of years the lotus image has been represented in Asian art to imply the otherworldly, the ethereal, the celestial. Its beauty and fragrance do not intoxicate, but instil contemplation, meditation.

It was in the Sanchi monument that I saw this familiar flower with completely new eyes. It was a quiet day at the stupa. Very few visitors. I almost had the entire space to myself. Looking at the intricate carvings detailing the crucial incidents in the life of the Buddha, I realized that one important person from his life was missing. Where was Siddhartha’s wife? Yashodhara? Why was she absent?

As I stood by the western entrance pillar wondering, my eyes idly followed the sun’s rays hitting the lower half of the pillar. It spotlit a carved lotus, its stem caught in the jaws of an underwater monster, but twisting itself up through the pool, gasping for breath in the open air, longing for the sun’s life-giving touch.

Then I understood that rooted in earth, rising through water, breathing in the air and blooming in the sun, the lotus partakes of the four elements, only to transcend them, to go beyond, into the realm of light, joy and freedom. The mantra gate, gate paragate, parasangate bodhi swaha… Gone, gone beyond, gone far beyond, what an awakening! acquired a new and practical meaning.

In an obscure segment of a stone pillar, the artiste had embedded an entire life journey, its troubles and traumas, setbacks and suffering, but also the invincible spirit of survival through unceasing, upwardly mobile, effort. The sculptor had made a great value eternally visible.

As I looked at the lotus carved by an unknown artiste of long ago, I thought of Yashodhara.  One fine morning she awoke and found her husband gone, leaving her and their child behind. No reasons, explanations, no promise to return.

Through the long years Yashodhara must have struggled through darkness and despair. Experienced human feelings: anger, jealousy, frustration, fear, misery, doubt and loneliness. But finally when her husband, now a world teacher, returns to Kapilavastu, she has no reproaches. Inspired by the Buddha’s sacrifice, enlightenment and compassion, she too renounces the material world, follows buddham, dhammam, and sangham. She chooses to serve humanity. In so doing -- she finds herself, her mission, her liberation.

It was a wonderful experience for me to trace Yashodhara’s journey in my dance theatre work. And wherever we performed it, in Indian cities or cities of north America, the reaction was the same. People did not talk about how well we performed. They talked about the values the work evoked. They were moved by Yashodhara’s human struggle because they saw it as their own. They rejoiced in her final resolution, because they saw their ideal in it, a movement-of-the-spirit towards ultimate wisdom.

President Ikeda asks, I QUOTE: For what purpose should one cultivate wisdom? The answer must be, for the peace and happiness of humanity.”  End QUOTE

To be an artiste is to accept responsibility and duty towards society, to offer solace for pain, to promote positive energies, invoke joy, and hold up the highest ideals for the terrestrial life and the spiritual life. To do this an artiste must choose -- not the tricks of cleverness, but the path of wisdom.

We know that such wisdom is not some static or passive state of mind. It is an active intellectual and emotive engagement with the positive, the dynamic.

We start with awareness, not only of the good, but also of the evil that we must combat. This is what contemporary poet Arun Kolatkar does, when he retells a story from the Mahabharata in his long poem Sarpa Satra or Snake Sacrifice.  As I turned this revenge cycle of an old myth, spanning several generations, into a play, I realized how it mirrors the horrors of the contemporary world – with its savagery, genocides, ethnic cleansing and terrorism. The description of the burning down of a primeval forest becomes a modern photograph of carnage.

I QUOTE KOLATKAR:

Nothing was left, no trace of the great sanctuary…

Not just the trees, birds, insects, animals

Herds upon herds of elephants, gazelles, antelopes

But people, people as well.

Simple folk, children of the forest who had lived there for generations

Since time began.

They’ve  gone, gone without a trace.

With their language that sounded like the burbling of brooks

Their songs that sounded like the twitterings of birds

And the secret of their shamans who could cure any sickness

By casting spells with their special flute

Made from the hollow wingbones of red crested cranes

Why did they do it? Just for kicks maybe

Maybe just the fact they had all these fantastic weapons went to their heads

And they just couldn’t wait to test their awesome powers

Maybe they just wanted a clear title to the land

Unchallenged by so much as a tiger moth.

The most ironic shaft in the poem is that this genocide is performed by persons hailed as heroes, and gods, and role models. Don’t we know this disturbing delusion persists even today?

Finally the killings end. Much is saved, but what is lost is lost forever. People return to so- called “normalcy”,  go about their daily business. But the poet warns us that evil is merely suppressed, it is not extinguished for all times.  “Do not be deceived” he says.

The fire rages, they say,

in the great forest beyond the Himalayas,

where the great sages tried to dispose of it.

And there, to this day,

They say,

it continues to consume,

rakshasas, rocks, and trees.

The eternal challenge for humankind is : how to prevent that smouldering fire from once again turning into a conflagration? In every age the artiste faces this challenge, along with thinkers and mahatmas.

Mr Ikeda declares: I QUOTE: “The surest way to peace is by fostering people of character, self-motivated, empowered individuals who will confront forces that lead nations to war.” End Quote.

And just what is this peace? Not the absence of war, but a rich state of existence where everyone respects and embraces others. When diversity is not rejected, but respected and rejoiced over. Love and wisdom prevail over intolerance and greed.

I end with the final song in our Yashodhara theatre production, where the princess sees the Buddha as the personification of light and wisdom, a beneficent power which heals her wounds, quells restless fears, fills her with love and peace.

Drishti idhar jo tumne pheree                Huee shaant jignaasa meri

Bhay sanshay ki miti andheree             Is aabhaa ke aan! – Padhaaro, bhav bhav ke bhagwan

Mein thee sandhyaa kaa path here     Aa pahunche tum sahaj savere

Dayaa kapaat khule yeh mere              Doon ab kyaa navdaan (2)– bhav bhav ke bhagwan

Identifying the future Carnatic voice

Sruti editorial

By V Ramnarayan

Mr RT Chari of the TAG group of companies and his family trust Ramu Endowments have been solid supporters of Carnatic music for a couple of decades now, with their donation and installation of listening archives to Chennnai's Music Academy and several other institutions a prominent and thoughtful contribution to the field. When Mr Chari and the Karnatik Music Forum, another champion of music and other worthy causes (led by Dr S Sundar and ably assisted by Mrs Usha Bharadwaj), approached Sruti with a request to join them in a project to identify five emerging Carnatic voices under the age of 25, we considered a number of aspects before agreeing to take part in the initiative.

It has been our expressed view that there are far too many competitions around us for young Carnatic musicians, with a resultant focus on technique and performance skills rather than on depth of understanding. While there is no change in our stand, we saw an opportunity to stress some core values of our vocal music through the programme, whose aim is to identify five promising voices from among the applications we receive from aspirants from India and abroad, not to turn the young participants into some kind of performing machines. It has been titled Five for the Future. (We had to drop the earlier title Voices for Tomorrow as another event carries the same name).

While an independent jury will select the most promising talent, the proper use of the voice, not merely technical proficiency, will be a fundamental criterion in the selection process, and our judges will keep this essential attribute in mind throughout the search for five voices for the future. And we do hope  organisers will take note of our choice and consider these youngsters for performance opportunities.

The talent hunt, proposed as an annual affair,  will be held for the first time from 12^th to 17th January 2015 at TAG Centre, Alwarpet, Chennai. Only vocalists below age 25, male or female, who have not performed for any of the major sabhas of Chennai during the December season are eligible.

The application accompanied by the applicant’s curriculum vitae and audio recording to Mrs. Usha Bharadwaj, Coordinator,  D1/9, Anand Apartments, 50, LB Road, Tiruvanmiyur, Chennai – 41 or electronically to musicforum.chennai@gmail.com on or before 30 November 2014. The recording must contain one classical kriti with raga alapana, niraval and swaras for a maximum duration of 25 minutes, and a light classical song. The total duration should not exceed 30 minutes.

As we said before, proper vocalisation will be an all-important criterion in selecting the top five. Open-mouthed, akaram-oriented singing will be a must.

Out of the applicants, 18 will be selected to perform for an hour each during the January 2015 event. Violin and percussion accompaniment will be provided by us.

During the hour-long performance, the selected applicant is expected to present a mini concert that will include raga alapana, niraval and kalpana swaras.

The top five voices of 2015 to be selected by a panel of experts, will each receive prize money of Rs.5000 and a citation.

Please visit our Facebook pages Sruti Sangeet (www.facebook/srutisangeet) and Srutimag (www.facebook/srutimag) for updates.

Boy wonder all his life

But his best was yet to come

V Ramnarayan

Much loved, much adored Mandolin U Shrinivas, who remained a boy wonder all his life, is no more. He was a frail, shy 14-year-old when he appeared on the cover of Sruti’s inaugural issue in October 1983, along with DK Pattammal, Lakshmi Viswanathan and Sonal Man Singh. Founder-editor N Pattabhi Raman concluded his profile of the child prodigy with the passage: “Meteors are transient; they describe a fiery streak in the sky and then burn themselves out. Stars stay with us, adding sparkle to our life. It is the hope of almost everyone who has been exposed to the luminosity of Srinivas’s music (that is how he spelt his name then) that he will turn out to be a star on the firmament of South Indian classical music.”

 There are those that believe Shrinivas had accomplished so much in his brief sojourn on earth, that  it should not matter that he was snatched away in his prime just as Srinivasa Ramanujan and Subramania Bharati were. It is hard to agree with such a sentiment. At 45, he had many years of glorious creativity ahead of him, his music poised for a greatness beyond what he offered the world over the last three decades.  The way he approached ragas, his delicious new interpretations of them in recent years, suggested that the best of Mandolin Shrinivas was yet to come.

He was all of 14 when we at Sruti first interacted with him. He had already floored the most demanding rasikas of Mylapore and Mambalam, Perambur and Nungambakkam, on their own home turf in concert after concert, with his spectacular raga essays and swara fusillades. He was tiny, tongue-tied, knew very little Tamil and less English. He was respectful, even deferential in his dealings with parents, guru, mentors, sabha secretaries and mediapersons, yet he was comfortable in his skin.  Here was a boy completely free from self doubt, while at the same time totally bereft of airs

The boy Shrinivas was a unique amalgam of modernism (in the electrifying speed and magic of his music), an almost rustic old worldliness (in the way he dressed and behaved), and pure genius (in his astounding mastery of both his instrument and raga music). He came from the West Godavari district of Andhra Pradesh, taught himself to play a mandolin that belonged to his father Uppalapu Sathyanarayana’s light music band, and learnt Carnatic music from a vocalist in his native village of Palakol. The guru, Rudraraju Subbaraju had been a disciple of Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavatar. While he sang his lessons, the boy pupil repeated them on his strings. Shrinivas’s grasp was astonishing, and he soon plunged into classical music and achieved spectacular variations, exploiting to the hilt a tiny instrument that no Carnatic musician before him had ventured to play.

His first concerts in Chennai were probably held in 1980 or 1981. An amazing cutcheris at the Ayodhya Mandapam at West Mambalam is still remembered by listeners on whom he cast a spell that day. It was perhaps a testimonial to Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavatar, his guru’s guru. He really arrived with a bang on 28 December 1982, at a concert at Indian Fine Arts Society. Soon senior artists were gladly agreeing to accompany him, though it was often an uphill task for the violinist to keep pace with his lightning fast phrases and novel turns of improvisation. Violinist Kanyakumari, mridanga vidwan Tanjavur Upendran, and even special tavil exponent Valangaiman Shanmugasundaram were among his willing, doting accompanists. So was Umayalpuram K Sivaraman soon.

The next decade was a sensational whirl of concerts at Madras and all across India, drawing huge, ecstatic crowds. He was probably Carnatic music’s greatest crowd-puller during that period. His repertoire of raga and compositions was considerable by now and his ragam-tanam-pallavi expositions became quite exhilarating. His manodharma was exquisite, but he rarely strayed from the strait and narrow path of classical music.

Shrinivas worked tirelessly at growing as a mandolin exponent while drinking deep of the treasures of Carnatic music, but to him, it was all play. Music was bliss. Whether he was playing the major ragas of Carnatic music, or rare ones, or those with a Hindustani tint, his understanding of their dimensions and nuances was astounding, and he gave expression to them in ways we often did not expect. His music could move you to tears as much as it could make your pulse throb with excitement. The secret was its purity.While he was perfectly capable of etching delicate raga essays or execute the slow songs of grandeur bequeathed to us by Carnatic music’s great composers, speed and virtuosity became his trademark and won him millions of rasikas.  

During an interview in 2008, I suggested to him that it was perhaps time to play what I believed must be music closest to his heart to select audiences in small intimate gatherings. After all, the mandolin was not a loud instrument and he managed to coax the most delicate glides out of it. He told me that he loved large audiences, that he wanted to continue to reach out to the greatest numbers.

Not only did Shrinivas convert an essentially folk music instrument into a mainstream instrument in classical music, he also took it worldwide and collaborated with musicians of several genres. His jugalbandis with Hindustani musicians were exciting crowd-pleasers. His forays into fusion with jazz and western musicians of other forms were huge successes in front of varied audiences. He also continued to please Carnatic music lovers of the Indian diaspora. In all his collaborative performances, he tended to play second fiddle, letting his counterparts bask in the admiration of the audience rather than show off his own superior skills. When asked about this, his typically modest reply was: “No, that is not true. They are all great musicians in their own right. And fusion concerts are not competitions, are they?”

Thirtytwo years  and many conquests in India and abroad after he first appeared in the pages of Sruti, with his ever increasing raga and composition repertoire, after scores of collaborative efforts that left his admirers wonderstruck by his virtuosity, Shrinivas retained the same simple, shy ways and humility unmarred by his supreme confidence in his art. His was not music for those of us who like it slow and soulful. It was fast, dazzling, breathtaking, awe-inspiring, with rarely a long stretch of quietude. Yet, it had soul. It was music that effortlessly bridged south and north, east and west.

Though Pattabhi Raman’s prayer in Sruti’s Issue No.1—almost exactly 31 years ago to the day—came true and Shrinivas did become a star in the firmament of Carnatic music, the end has come too soon. He was a role model among musicians, ever smiling, always modest, genuinely so. He brought thousands of new listeners in India and abroad into the fold of Carnatic music. His music touched both the lay listener and the cognoscenti. He thus played a major role in taking Carnatic music worldwide. There will never be another like him.