Sruti E
Transcription
Sruti E
Sruti E - Issue Sruti E - Issue Contents Introduction . . . . . 4 Life and Achievements . . . . . 5 Awards and Titles . . . . . 15 GNB & MLV : Parallels and Contrasts . . . . . 18 MLV & Cinema . . . . . 21 Some Personal Glimpses . . . . . 26 Sruti E - Issue Introduction 1 MLV was a brilliant vocalist and dedicated teacher, a pioneer who created space for woman-musicians on the concert stage, contributing significantly to the development of Carnatic music from the 1940s to the late 1980s. She came to be widely known as MLV. Her initials can be said to depict three outstanding features of her music: Melody, Laya and Vidwat. The combination of these in her music, in which melody enveloped the other two, won her the admiration of the cognoscenti but also appealed to the lay listener. Sruti E - Issue Life and Achievements 2 The child Vasanthakumari wanted to become a doctor. She was always perhaps regretful about what might have been. “Doctors save lives,” she was fond of saying wistfully, voicing her admiration for the medical profession. Vasanthakumari’s parents—she was born as an only child on 3 July 1928 in Madras—were both musicians. Father Koothanur Ayyasami Iyer was well-versed in Carnatic music and had a keen interest in Hindustani classical music as well. Mother Lalithangi belonged to a family traditionally devoted to the fine arts. She had learnt music from Coimbatore Thayi and Flute Subba Rao, and padam-s and javali-s in particular from Veena Dhanammal. She was an active concert artist. She and her husband were both justly praised for their efforts to propagate the devarnama-s of Purandaradasa in the South (See Sruti 14). MLV grew up amidst sounds of music—listening to the songs of Purandaradasa, the kriti-s of the Tiruvarur trinity and other Carnatic music composers, and to khayals, thumri-s and dhun-s rendered by visiting Hindustani musicians. But genes more than environment probably accounted for the ability of Vasanthakumari, even as a two-year-old toddler, to identify the swara-s embedded in the melodies she heard. She was, in Sruti E - Issue other words, a child prodigy, even though she was not so proclaimed or publicised by her parents. Although they taught her music at home, her father and mother were not keen on Vasanthi, taking up music as a career, thanks to their disappointment at not receiving adequate recognition for their own musical abilities and services. They admitted her in a convent school. (Vasanthakumari studied up to the Senior Cambridge level and developed a sense of curiosity, a broad bent of mind and proficiency in English). Despite her parents’ reluctance to let Vasanthi pursue a career in music, the gifted girl was allowed to accompany mother Lalithangi in her recitals. At the age of 11, Vasanthakumari began formally providing ‘pin-paattu’—back-up support or ‘backsong’, to use the catchy term used by an artist in a letter to AIR and recalled with glee by T. Sankaran—for her mother. She made stage appearances in this manner, in a concert held on 27 July 1940 in Simla, and another on 3 August 1940 in New Delhi. Both were organized by the Karnataka Sangeeta Sabha, a flourishing organisation in Simla and Delhi. Chance played a part in Vasanthakumari’s first solo recital in Bangalore in 1941, when she was 13 or thereabouts. Lalithangi was to have performed but withdrew because of an attack of asthma. Rather than cancel the concert, the Sabha officials decided to present Vasanthakumari in her place. The concert by ‘Madras Lalithangi Vasanthakumari’ was a success. MLV scored another first in 1941 when she cut her first disc, a recording on a 78 rpm ‘plate’ of Swati Tirunal’s Todi raga kriti Sarasijanabha murare. This opened the way for a contract with the leading recording company in India and its release of a few more MLV discs. Sruti E - Issue The turning point in Vasanthakumari’s life and career was not either of these firsts but her enrolment as a disciple of G.N. Balasubramaniam, then a new star on the Carnatic music horizon. It came about a little earlier. GNB had first formed a favourable impression of Vasanthakumari’s potential as a singer in 1938. He, Lalithangi and D.K. Pattammal were rehearsing a radio programme based on Jayadeva’s ashtapadi-s. Vasanthakumari was present on the occasion and she was singing along in low tones, singing to herself really. GNB heard her, and asked her parents to let the girl receive music training under him. They demurred—and so did Vasanthakumari, who was keen on becoming a doctor. But GNB renewed his suggestion, now with greater force, when, in 1940 Lalithangi and Ayyasami Iyer called on him to show him the book on Purandaradasa’s compositions they had prepared. This time, the parents gave their agreement to GNB’s proposal and placed Vasanthakumari under his tutelage. She received regular training from GNB for about 10 years. In lrubathaam Nootrandin Sangeeta Medhaigal (Alliance Co., Madras, 1988), a Tamil book in which Sruti Senior Editor V.S. Sundara Rajan wrote about the music maestros of the 20th century, there is a passage recording MLV’s recollection of her apprenticeship under GNB. She said her guru told her: “Take only the good aspects from my music. Don’t copy me in every respect, because that would amount to mimicry. Cultivate your manodharma, your own sense of imagination.” She added that her guru often asked her to listen to the concerts of musicians like Ariyakudi, Semmangudi, Madurai Mani, D.K. Pattammal and M.S. Subbulakshmi. His aim was to encourage her to observe interesting musical features and aspects of concert presentation and absorb those which, after analysis and discussion with her guru, seemed relevant to her own musical outlook and endowments. In 1951, Vasanthakumari married R. Krishnamurti, as proposed and arranged by her parents. Sruti E - Issue A native of Madurai belonging to the landed gentry, Krishnamurti was one of the founders of a sabha that later became the Sathguru Sangeetha Samajam. Among those whose concerts he helped arrange for the sabha was G.N. Balasubramaniam. Maharajapuram Viswanatha Iyer was already one of his heroes and now GNB became another. Though he was younger than both, he gained their friendship. On GNB’s recommendation he arranged for Vasanthakumari too to sing at the Madurai sabha once or twice. During the nineteen fifties and sixties, Vasanthakumari’s career as a concert artist flourished. In 1953, she became a mother and the care and upbringing of daughter Srividya, and later of son Sankararaman, did require that some of her time and energies be diverted from the pursuit of her profession, As Srividya grew up and learnt Bharatanatyam, Vasanthakumari took on one more role as padam-singer at her dance recitals. But all this diversion did not affect her career as a concert artist. Despite carping criticism of her style of singing from some quarters of the Establishment—she was the target of such criticism partly because she belonged to the GNB school—Vasanthakumari was regularly featured as a star performer in virtually every important music festival conducted in south India and in the various outposts of Carnatic music in the rest of the country. She was also a regular performer on radio. Interestingly, AIR denied her the top grade until much later in her career. The person responsible for this delay was none other than her guru, who was an AIR producer when her case was reviewed and who perhaps took a firmer step on the path of rectitude than usual, because Vasanthakumari was his disciple. He told her: “You are still young; you can afford to wait.” Once she reached the top, Vasanthakumari stayed there. There was some slackening of her concert schedule in the 1970s, and, during the last three years of her life, she was under considerable strain because of health problems. Also, although there were occasional performances which could not be reckoned as successes and even when she was no Sruti E - Issue longer in her prime—her music was best in the 1950s and sixties—she never gave reason for anyone to doubt that she was a first-rate artist, a truly great singer. Her music had many fine attributes, but she excelled in the exercise of manodharma and revealed a rare sense of adventure. And she had the competence—a combination of knowledge, skills and attitudes—to deploy her manodharma and spirit of adventure to great effect. She enriched tradition, she did not violate it. In this respect she was a true disciple of her great guru. Over the years, Vasanthakumari evolved her own bani of singing, based on the new bani her guru had fashioned for himself. She did not copy her guru’s style completely. This is what her guru had wished her to do. According to R. Shankernarayanan of Hosur, a long time admirer and friend of MLV, GNB used to say to him: “Vasanthi typifies real discipleship. She applies her mind to all she absorbs and presents a glorious edifice of her own creation.” Vasanthakumari’s attitude towards her accompanists and disciples also confirmed that she was a true follower of GNB. Her interest went beyond the ‘loukeekam’ aspects, for she was genuinely interested in the musical contribution accompanists could make. She never hesitated to acknowledge their merit, or encourage them if they were young and junior to her. The way she groomed A. Kanyakumari as a first-rate violin accompanist is a story in itself. The role she played in bringing khanjira vidwan G. Harishankar and mridanga vidwan Tiruvarur Bhakthavathsalam was no less significant. She made them part of her concert team; she pulled them into her orbit of adventure; and she pushed them into excelling Sruti E - Issue themselves. Above all, she enveloped them with her genuine concern for their success and deep personal affection. Punctuality was an inviolate principle with MLV. It is a safe bet that if any of her concerts had a delayed start, she was not responsible for it. This sense of punctuality was but an extension in everyday life of her unswerving kalapramanam in music. She usually followed tradition and started a concert with a varnamand there was never a concert in which, she did not sing a song in praise of Vighneswara early on, at the least, a stotram invoking Ganapati’s blessings. Close colleagues disclose that if she was required to record a programme on disc or tape without a Ganesa kriti, she would insist on singing such a kriti, at the beginning, at least ‘off the record’. She revelled in rendering raga alapana and kriti-s in major raga-s like Kalyani, Shanmukhapriya and Todi. Typically the alapana was expansive, as she explored the territory of the raga to its very frontiers. The kriti selected was well-known but hardly well-worn insofar as her rendering of it was concerned. She was equally adept at rendering minor raga-s and elaborately at that. For instance, she sang the rare raga Sivasakti for an LP record. Reportedly she had never sung the raga earlier, possibly had not even heard it sung, but the way she sang it for the record, she gave the impression she must have practised it quite a bit. She herself used to say, “The first time I sing a raga is invariably my best rendering of that raga.” Any concert of MLV’s offered object lessons on how to render raga alapana. It would show that the time to be devoted to an alapana depended on the nature of the kriti to follow and the time it would take to render it properly, complete with niraval and swaraprastara as warranted. The idea was obviously to make the offering in any raga— the alapana plus kriti—’a thing of beauty’ for the listeners and, if possible, also ‘a joy’ that would linger in their minds ‘forever’. She had a rich repertoire of songs—in many languages. She could sing compositions in Sanskrit, Telugu, Tamil, Kannada, Hindi and Marathi with a felicity of expression appropriate to each language. 10 Sruti E - Issue If the compositions of the Trinity were prominent in her concerts, those of Purandara and other dasa-s had a special place in them. If she sang bhajan-s or dhun-s, she did so in a classical or semi-classical rather than devotional mode. She did not normally sing bhajan-s in north Indian languages anywhere in the North, since she doubted that northern audiences would like the way a south Indian singer presented them. She had been heard to say: “We may think we are singing a terrific bhajan but they may be horrified by our style—by our enunciation and by our use of gamaka-s.” She could handle any type of music—from a sombre swarajati to a shouted Ayyasami, aaoji sami (the title of a film song she made famous). Whatever she sang, she placed on it her mudra, her indelible stamp of authority. She invariably sang a ragam-tanam-pallavi in every concert that lasted three hours or more. It did not matter if it was a sabha concert or a temple festival affair. Even in a wedding concert, she included a pallavi if she felt a few discerning listeners were present. She handled difficult pallavi-s without diffidence but also without arrogance. Once Kanyakumari, her violin accompanist and ‘Girl Everyday’, suggested that Vasanthakumari sing a two-raga pallavi in a concert she was to give the same evening. She proposed the twinning of Amritavarshini and Andolika for the purpose. MLV welcomed the proposal, but asked that an alternative combination be kept in mind too. At three o’ clock in the afternoon, she sat down and prepared a pallavi with the double-A combination. It was in tisra nadai too. Kanyakumari and Maharajapuram Santhanam (who was in the audience) both reportedly said after the concert that it was ‘a magnificent effort’. Vasanthakumari had to do something new in every concert and she aimed to be perfect in whatever she sang. When another musician did something new, something fresh, she wanted to know about it, learn it and do it herself. Once a disciple of hers told her Balamuralikrishna had rendered a pallavi in pancha nadai (five gaits) within the selected tala framework. She had the disciple recapitulate musically what she had heard. She liked it, set up a comparable pallavi and sang it at the Sruti E - Issue 11 Music Academy in the year in which she presided over that body’s annual conference. At another time, she heard Balamuralikrishna had rendered a panchamukhi pallavi and again she responded to the news by setting up a pallavi in Misramukhi tala. She rendered that too at the Academy. Thus, in addition to a rich repertoire, she had a whole range of musical abilities and accomplishments. These enabled her to adjust the framework and flow of her concert at any stage she wanted and thus overcome a rebellious voice, poor acoustics or any other handicap she faced. There were occasions when her throat was affected and her voice was not at its best, or she was off-mood, or something upset her musical vibes. On such occasions she would introduce an elaborate alapana, a powerful song or a swaraprastara that touched dizzy heights and elevated the musical quality of the concert. According to a source competent to judge, she simply seemed unable to rise to the occasion at a concert in Bangalore. Her performance was mediocre until she decided to sing swara-s for a kriti in Narayani raga. She sang swara-s for some 20 minutes in this obscure raga and the audience gave her a standing ovation at the end. All of the swara korvai-s or matrices were single-avarta ones, and in sarva-laghu. Within that framework she produced myriad combinations which were striking for their conception and laya intricacies. She had a phenomenal grip on laya and she could produce swara matrices of great complexity even while singing vakra raga-s or raga-s with scalar progressions that go this way and that instead of straight up and straight down. She offered a dazzling example of her virtuosity on this account at a concert for Shanmukhananda Sabha in Bombay when she sang swara-s in Kiranavali raga. Yet her concerts confirmed time and again that she did not wish to subordinate melody to mathematics. 12 Sruti E - Issue Her music had melody. It had laya. And it had vidwat. M-L-V: these letters not only stood for these aspects of her music, but also indicated the order of priority of these aspects in the way she displayed them in her music. Vasanthakumari did not limit her role as a teacher to instructing, guiding and inspiring her disciples and her young accompanists. She taught music at institutions as well. The first and most rewarding assignment of this kind she took up was at the Rishi Valley School, a unique institution near Madanapalle, in Andhra Pradesh, which is guided by the philosophy of learning propounded by the late Jiddu Krishnamurti, the internationally known and respected thinker. This was in the late 1970s. It was obvious that, from the viewpoint of the Rishi Valley School also, the addition of MLV to its faculty would be most welcome, indeed a privilege, as the addition of Palghat Mani Iyer, another great musician, had been. Arrangements were quickly made for her appointment. At the same time, C.V. Narasimhan, a top U.N. official and a great rasika, offered to make an annual contribution to the Rishi Valley School to enable it to supplement its own salary to MLV. (He made a similar provision in regard to Palghat Mani Iyer also). At the Rishi Valley School, Vasanthakumari brought to her assignment, which continued till her passing, a spirit of joy as well as a seriousness of purpose. The latter was particularly evident, according to K. Jayalakshmi (Rojiamma), an official of the Krishnamurti Foundation and a close friend of MLV, in the pains Vasanthakumari took while producing Sakuntalam, a dance-drama enacted by the school’s students which premiered at the Madras Music Academy during its annual festival in 1988. She researched various books and consulted various authorities while putting together the ballet and herself composed the music, in 55 Carnatic and Hindustani raga-s and folk melodies, for lyrics by Hanumantha Rao, a great scholar. She also personally shopped for the materials with which to make the costumes; there was economy as well as aesthetics involved in this task since the budget available was very small. When the show was presented, critic Subbudu wrote in the Indian Sruti E - Issue 13 Express, Madras: “The multi-faceted genius of Dr. M.L. Vasanthakumari, whom we have known so far only as an outstanding vocalist, came to the fore... when she presented Sakuntalam at the Music Academy. It unfailingly traced the gamut of emotions by turns, apart from being quite splendid by itself. [Specific raga-s] fitted into the appropriate sequences bordered often by lovely swara passages. There were suitable tempo, tala and nadai changes.” Vidwan S. Rajam, Sruti Contributing Editor and music expert, lavished praise on the music composed by MLV. Vasanthakumari also served for three years as Visiting Honorary Professor at the Tamil Isai Kalluri of the Tamil Isai Sangam, Madras. Yet another institutional assignment was arranged but she took ill before she could assume responsibility effectively. This was as head of the music faculty at the Sri Padmavathy Mahila University in Tirupati. It was but natural that many awards and titles came seeking this great artist. The first one, the title of Sangeeta Vani, was bestowed on Vasanthakumari by a great artist, the late violin maestro Kumbakonam Rajamanickam Pillai, when she was only 26 years of age; she was already a star performer if yet only a great artist in the making. The title was awarded in 1954 at a function organised by the Arts Academy of Purasawakkam in Madras. Another title she received when quite young was Sangeeta Ratnakara. This was awarded by the Purandaradasa mahotsava committee in Coimbatore in recognition of MLV’s expertise in singing the songs of Purandaradasa and it was presented to her by the late Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavatar. According to the tradition governing such occasions, a man does not garland a woman but Chembai insisted on garlanding Vasanthakumari, presumably because he recognized goddess Saraswati herself in the young vidushi. 14 Sruti E - Issue Awards and Titles 3 Various other awards and titles followed: l Tiruppavai Mani, presented to her in appreciation of her recording of Tiruppavai songs; l Padma Bhushan, the President of India award in 1967, when she was only 39 years of age; l Sangeet Natak Akademi award, 1970; l Doctor of Letters, the honorary degree awarded to her by the Mysore University; l Sangita Kalanidhi, the title which the Music Academy of Madras Sruti E - Issue 15 awarded her on 1 January 1978 after she presided over the 1977 annual conference; l Isai Perarignar, awarded by the Tamil lsai Sangam, Madras in December 1978 when she presided over its annual conference; l Isai Chelvam, presented by the Muttamizh Peravai, Madras; l Saptagiri Sangeeta Vidwan Mani, presented by the Tyagarajaswami Trust of Tirupati in 1985. l Sangeeta Kalasikhamani, presented by the Indian Fine Arts Society, Madras, in 1989. She presided over the Society’s 55th South Indian Music Conference & Festival held in December that year. She was also honoured by the Tirupati-Tirumala Devasthanams which appointed her as an asthana vidushi. Vasanthakumari’s music took her abroad many times, even though the Government of India never chose her to represent the country at any time. Her early overseas visits were to Sri Lanka. In 1951 she sang at a Tamil festival in Jaffna. In 1954, she gave several benefit concerts to raise funds for the building fund of a college. In 1960, she gave concerts to raise funds for another college as well as for a Murugan temple. Then, after a gap of many years, she visited the island again in 1983, when she and her party were lucky to escape being victimized by ethnic riots. Vasanthakumari visited Malaysia and Singapore too. The first time she did so was in 1960, when she gave many benefit concerts to raise funds for various institutions. She went to Nepal in 1973 at the invitation of the King and Queen and gave several performances. She went to North America for the first time in 1976 and gave a series of concerts from coast to coast. The people of Indian and Sri Lankan origin in the US and Canada were thrilled to be able to 16 Sruti E - Issue attend her live performances. She undertook a similar tour in 1980. In the same year, she gave a benefit concert in London. Vasanthakumari went abroad again in the 1980s—to Malaysia and Singapore in 1982 to give benefit performances; to New York in 1984 for a concert in commemoration of the 500th birth anniversary of Purandaradasa; and to Australia in 1988. A report on the latter visit remarked on the unifying impact her visit had on the Indian community in Sydney. It said that organisations active in promoting Indian music and other organisations focusing on Indians and Indian culture joined together for the first time in making a visiting artist’s programmes a success. Vasanthakumari gave free performances for fund-raising purposes not only abroad but in India also. It was her way of rendering community service and, generally speaking, she did not care to receive wide publicity for these efforts. Vasanthakumari helped raise tons of money for various charities and institutions. But, particularly since the 1960s, she managed to spend more money than she earned. Vasanthakumari was one of the very few musicians to be straightaway accepted as a class artist. She did not have to climb to the top laboriously, step by hard step. Sruti E - Issue 17 4 GNB & MLV : Parallels and Contrasts It is astonishing how much there was in common between GNB and MLV in regard to their achievements, disappointments and behavioural characteristics. There was, of course, much in common in their music and styles of singing, though there were differences too. Both were creative artists, with an intellectual bent of mind, and endowed with a great sense of imagination. Both were modem in their musical outlook, but rooted firmly in tradition. Neither master nor disciple was ever given the honour of officially representing India abroad. In GNB’s days, there were no festivals of India conducted abroad, Remarkably, master and disciple shared some character traits. Thus: l Both were sincere to a fault. l Both, aware of their own faults, were their own critics. 18 Sruti E - Issue They were also sensitive to—though not resentful of—criticism of their music made by others. l Neither did harm to any musician or had the habit of running down the capabilities of musicians. lBoth encouraged their disciples and accompanists without any reservation. l Both were childlike in experiencing delight at receiving gifts, even small gifts. l (Both were really ‘innocents abroad’, not really adept at coping with the harsh realities and problems of life.) l Both were easily exploited. l Neither cared to amass material wealth; nor knew how to do it. Both made money in great quantities, and let most of it slip through their fingers. l GNB and MLV were both connected with educational institutions. He was Principal of the Swati Tirunal College of Music in Tiruvanantapuram; she taught music for many years in a school at Rishi Valley near Madanapalle and for a short while at a college in Tirupati. Interestingly there were some contrasts too. l MLV never displayed any stage-fright or nervousness before beginning a concert. But her guru had a fear complex. He was usually jittery before his musical engagements. Moreover, if he saw sitting in the audience any worthy who was known to be hostile to his music, he became upset. l GNB was a serious composer of classical music, a vaggeyakara; MLV was not, even though she achieved success in scoring the music for a dance-drama and setting to tune a few compositions. l GNB served All India Radio as a producer for some years. MLV held no official positions with AIR. Sruti E - Issue 19 l GNB wrote extensively on music. MLV did not, but she had the honour of delivering addresses in at least a couple of university convocations. She received an honorary doctoral degree; GNB did not. lGNB and MLV were both associated with the cinema, but there was a difference. He acted and sang in films but never had an assignment as a playback singer. She was a playback singer. She was signed to act in one film only—and she withdrew from it before it was completed. lGNB fathered a large family but none of his sons or daughters became performing artists in any field, let alone music. MLV was like a mother or sister to many and produced a son and a daughter only. Daughter Srividya achieved a measure of success as a Bharatanatyam dancer trained by the late K.N. Dandayudhapani Pillai, but was more prominent as an actress in cinema and telefilms. l Both GNB and MLV died relatively young. And about both it can be said that their contribution to Carnatic music will survive even the most hostile criticism. 20 Sruti E - Issue MLV & Cinema 5 M.L. Vasanthakumari offered classy music in cinema. She was signed up to act in Royal Talkie’s ‘Sudarsan’, a film based on the life of the potter-saint Gorakhumba. Sundarrao Nadkarni was the director of this film in which she was given the role of the second wife of the hero portrayed by P.U. Chinnappa. But she chucked the assignment after only 2000 feet of film had been shot—an act which led to an unsuccessful damage suit against her. She told chronicler Randor Guy that the reason for her withdrawing from the film—and giving up the thought of ever again acting in films—was that she did not like what she saw going on around and she felt there were expectations held which she could not even think of meeting. But MLV did have a successful association with films as a playback singer, recording numerous songs. According to V.A.K. Ranga Rao, almost every film music composer used her when a song required her expertise. The film for which she was first contracted to be playback singer was ‘Rajamukti’ (1948). It was made by one-time singing star M.K. Thyagaraja Bhagavatar when, after he had undergone severe trials. Sruti E - Issue 21 Bhagavatar himself played the lead role in it. C.R. Subbaraman, the film’s music director, in a conversation with Alathur Venkatesa Iyer, said MLV, who was already establishing herself as a leading classical singer, might sing the film’s songs since it was Papanasam Sivan who had composed them. The idea was well received and, in the event, MLV recorded some four songs—two in tandem with Bhagavatar—at the Prabhat Studios in Pune. The actress for whom she lent her voice was V.N. Janaki, who later became the wife of actor-turned-politician M.G. Ramachandran. The film flopped. Over the next several years, MLV served as playback singer for several more films. Among them: ‘Vazhkai’, ‘Manithan’, ‘Saudamini’, ‘Kannin Manigal’, ‘Parthiban Kanavu’, ‘Magane Kel’, ‘Inspector’, ‘Manamagal’ and ‘Meenda Sorgam’. She also sang for Kannada language films like ‘Jatakaphala’, ‘Sree Purandaradasaru’ and ‘Hamsageethe’. A Malayalam film benefitting from her playback singing was ‘Krishna Kuchela’, while some Hindi films too did so. Some film songs she sang had the classical touch. An example was Ellam inba mayam, a duet she sang with P. Leela. In this, the twosome sang swara-s in ragamalika in typical kutcheri manner, as well as in Simhendramadhyamam, the song’s raga. Another example: Aadaada manamum undo, sung in Latangi. Somewhat comparable was Adum arul jyoti which she sang as a duet with Seerkazhi Govindarajan in ‘Meenda Sorgam’. The makings of niraval could be discerned in its charanam line: ‘Ragam, talam, bhavam, serndu Bharatakalai’. 22 Sruti E - Issue According to one chronicler, what made MLV’s voice first familiar to thousands of fans of film music was her singing of Gopalanodu (Tamil) and its Telugu version Gopalaneeto for ‘Vazhkai’. On the screen, it was Vyjayantimala who lipped the lyrics. But Konjum purave (O, cooing dove), a copycat version of Thandi havayen, sung originally in Hindi by Lata Mangeshkar in a mixture of Behag and Yaman cannot be given any less credit. MLV recorded it for V. Nagiah’s ‘Thai Ullam’. With the lilt of its melody and rhythm, it has remained a perennial favourite. Perhaps the last playback assignment she accepted was to sing for a dance sequence in ‘Hamsageethe’, for which the music was scored by M. Balamuralikrishna. She sang a string of ashtapadi-s—as did B.K. Sumitra and Balamuralikrishna himself. The raga-s used were Hamsadhvani, Athana and Reetigoula. For the same film she also sang a two-line bit in Hindolam. Many of the songs MLV sang for dance sequences in films have entered the repertoire of Bharatanatyam artists. Among them: Chinnanchiru kiliye, a Bharati song tuned in five raga-s by C.R. Subbaraman for ‘Manamagal’, and the Dasavataram song, Parkadal alai mele, composed in as many raga-s by G. Ramanathan for ‘Raja Desingu’. The musical and literary content of songs MLV rendered for dance sequences can measure up to any song currently in the Bharatanatyam repertoire. If Vasanthakumari wanted to learn and present in her own concerts a new item—a rare composition, for example—she had heard or been told about, she would first obtain a tape recording of the same or the notation for it. Then, even while she learned it, she would get the violinist and the disciples accompanying her in her concerts to learn it. Sometimes she and the others would all learn it together, because of MLV’s wish to present the item in an upcoming programme. This happened when MLV wanted to learn and sing Muthuswami Dikshitar’s chaturdasa ragamalika. She wished to sing it in a concert at Madurai. She obtained Sruti E - Issue 23 the notation for the composition from Charumathi Ramachandran before entraining for Madurai. She and her associates learnt the composition in the morning and presented it in the evening concert. The ‘making ready’ of the difficult composition was completed in one stretch of three and a half hours. Vasanthakumari did not hesitate to discuss with her coartists the musical features of her concerts. There was no sleep for any of them after a concert was concluded, until MLV reviewed the concert, welcomed criticisms of it and discussed the thoughts arising tangentially from it. On such occasions, her colleagues felt grateful to be exposed to the wealth of her knowledge, which she refused to parade publicly. Vasanthakumari understood, perhaps like few other musicians did, the need for the principal singer and her accompanists in a Carnatic music concert to work together for its success. She felt that the singer should be concerned, not about his or her own personal achievement, but about the music being produced by all of them together. She did not want any competition between the co-performers, nor any challenges. She abhorred any unseemly show of temper or of negative feelings on the stage. Frowning or even gritting the teeth was a no-no. MLV strictly followed a policy she devised for herself, which was never to record an item already meritoriously recorded by another artist. A number of companies requested her to record Venkateswara Suprabhatam, and they were willing to pay her handsomely but she did not oblige. Her answer was: “Venkateswara Suprabhatam is linked so closely with M.S. Subbulakshmi’s recording of it that it 24 Sruti E - Issue is hers now. No matter how well anyone else may sing it, MS’s recording cannot be excelled.” Similarly she didn’t wish to record Rangapura vihara and Bhaja Govindam, songs on which MS had put her stamp. Even in concerts she did not sing Rangapura vihara except in response to a specific request, but even then, she obliged only in wedding concerts where she felt a refusal would not be appropriate. Vasanthakumari was a great artist and a dedicated teacher. More, she was a great human being. The adjectives that seem apt to describe her qualities as a human being include: affectionate, outgoing, and warm-hearted. Remarkably for an artist, she was free of ego and devoid of bitterness. Tragically, she died at the age of only 62—on 31 October 1990. Her music will, however, live. Sruti E - Issue 25 Some Personal Glimpses 6 What set Vasanthakumari the musician apart was her sense of imagination, her spirit of adventure. She galloped through the music scene like a Joan of Arc, putting the philistines to the sword. Sulochana Pattabhiraman: “Vasanthakumari was and truly a Joan of Arc of Carnatic music, for she daringly entered areas which most others feared to tread. Her mastery was of course abundantly evident in her presentation of the major raga-s. If Todi is the king of raga-s, she was the Queen that brought its regal splendour to the fore. Her presentation, kaleidoscopic , revealed the raga’s majestic grace and its splendour in all its brilliant hues. She showed rare talent and courage, however, in presenting full-blown alapana-s of raga-s like Andolika, Mohana Kalyani, Saramati and Sivasakti. While a rasika would listen wondering how she could sing complicated janya raga-s like these so effectively, without any repetition of musical phrases, she would romp along as if it were mere child’s play. The spirit of adventure and the daring were evident also in her choice of raga-s for ragam-tanam-pallavi. In addition to the 26 Sruti E - Issue generally preferred ones, she selected such raga-s like Amritavarshini, Chandrakauns, Gamanasramam and Kalyanavasantam.” M S Subbulakshmi: created a big “The void demise in the of M.L. Vasanthakumari world of music. There was mellifluousness in her singing, refinement in her bani and the pleasantness of spring in her taste. All praiseworthy aspects were present in her music. It is no exaggeration to say that she was responsible for bringing to light the devarnama-s of Purandaradasa and other dasa-s of Karnataka. Her personal qualities were as good as her music. She had the innate capacity to be nice and friendly to everyone.” D K Pattammal: “I knew Vasanthakumari from the time she was a small girl. She was fond of me and called me Patta. I remember an incident relating to the time she received the award of Sangita Kalanidhi from the Music Academy. As usual, a citation was to be presented and Vasanthi insisted that I should do it. But on the day of the sadas or convocation, I was down with flu. My husband had gone to the morning session on that day and Vasanthi told him: “I’m looking forward to Patta reading the citation today at the sadas. I’ll cherish her blessings.” He replied: “I’m afraid it’s not going to be possible. Patta is suffering from fever.” Vasanthi expressed her desire that I should come at least for a few minutes, just present the birudu to her and go back home. Sruti E - Issue 27 I had been having high temperature up to that morning but by the afternoon the reading was down to 100 degrees. Yet my husband couldn’t see how I could attend the convocation. Vasanthi called the Academy at 2 pm and she was told that it would be difficult for me to attend and was asked if someone else could be fixed up. She demurred. Then she rode down to my house immediately and said to me: “Patta, I know I’m disturbing you. You’re running temperature but I need your asirvadam today more than at any other time. You must come and read the citation.” I couldn’t refuse—it was such an affectionate call. I went to read the citation, saw her receive the award and returned home. Vasanthi had high regard for me as the premier lady artist who set the trend for many ladies to follow. In our youth a lady singer was supposed to sing plain songs, concentrate on sruti suddham and avoid ‘technical’ aspects like the pallavi. Vasanthi frequently said: “Patta was the first person to break the barrier and sing pallavi-s. We are only following in her foot-steps.” She was fond of my music and I was told she even learnt some songs from music I had recorded. Vasanthi belonged to the GNB school, but she created a ‘Vasanthakumari bani’. She was a very intelligent musician. I’ve heard her concerts and I like her music. She has taught scores of disciples and has created an impressive band of sishya-s.” Mani Krishnaswami: “It was on a gramophone record, many years ago, that I heard MLV Akka sing the Todi kriti, Sarasijanabhamurare, and I was 28 Sruti E - Issue absolutely thrilled—a thrill I felt each time I attended one of her recitals since then. At that time I could not handle the sangati-s of that song but, through assiduous practice, I mastered them and sang the kriti to my parents who were highly pleased. Her concerts always started with a bang, and even if there were some initial difficulties she overcame them by her almost magical prowess, and rose to superlative heights. She had an uncanny knowledge of the interests of her audiences, and would provide appropriate fare for all cross-sections in the audience, thus revealing her versatility and the variety of her repertoire. She was an expert in never letting a concert flag. She had absolute pitch, and she gave one the desire to try to emulate her singing. Her flights of fancy, her masterly ability to make the listener totally engrossed in her singing, … one did not know which to admire more, one just admired the totality of her music. The effect of her musicmaking was such that one listened to it totally absorbed, in a trance-like state.” S Krishnan: “M.L. Vasanthakumari taught only kriti-s and other types of compositions explicitly to disciples, not raga-s and swara-s. She believed in manodharma sangeeta and expected the disciples to absorb raga-s singing and swaraprastara knowledge by listening to her singing, by concentrating on how she developed these aspects in her concerts while sharing the platform with her. She used to tell her disciples: “You aren’t sitting there on the platform to look at the public. You should observe carefully and absorb anything good that is sung and presented. You should not dwell upon any mistake I might commit—just note it and ensure that you don’t make the same mistake. Thus she taught raga-s by example and demonstration. Only for teaching compositions did she conduct lesson sessions.” A Kanyakumari: “My first exposure to MLV’s music was in Vizianagaram when the music college invited her to sing at its golden jubilee celebrations. Sruti E - Issue 29 This was in 1963 or 64. She sang the Andolika raga and I was so profoundly impressed that—since I was already in training to become a violinist—I started dreaming: “How great would it be if I could play for this artist!” It was a ridiculous dream considering both the physical distance between Vizianagaram and Madras and the musical distance between me, with an ‘L’ board hanging around my neck, and the acknowledged maestro that MLV was. In Madras, I started to receive advanced instruction in violin-playing from vidwan M. Chandrashekaran. Trivellore Subramaniam was the stock violinist for MLV then. Thanks to Charu’s mother, I got a chance to play with MLV at a wedding concert for which Subramaniam was not available. After the concert ended, MLV merely said: “Ah, it [your accompaniment] was all right.” My Tamil was not very good then and I didn’t say anything I think, except “thanks”. In those days—in the early seventies—All India Radio’s National Programme of Music used to be conducted before an invited audience in New Delhi. This programme was to take place only a couple of months after I’d started playing for Akka. She had suggested that I provide the violin accompaniment but the authorities had replied that I was yet in B grade and asked if Akka could suggest someone else. Akka said the accompaniment could not be changed, and she would rather not have the programme if AIR insisted on a change. The authorities must have been nonplussed getting a response like that from a major artist. They finally agreed to include me. It was this kind of encouragement that Akka gave me that has made me what I am today.” AEOLUS (S V Seshadri) “M.L. Vasanthakumar’s voice at its clearest has the heady tang of the cold morning breeze or of fresh spring water. MLV is intelligent enough to put her voice to the fullest use. She can be as brash as a sunflower, as firm as a tulip and as delicate as a rose. Alone among the women singers, she has a male cast of mind, and wears armour of her scholarship with the ease and nonchalance of the Maid of Orleans. She is 30 Sruti E - Issue an adventurer, accepting the accidents and opportunities of the highway with a laughing unconcern that would have stood her in good stead in a picaresque novel. In ancient Greece, she might have been a votary of Artemis, springing to follow the Greek goddess in her nocturnal chase through the woods. The comparison may not be mere conceit; for in the swaraprastara, MLV displays the practised aim of a dexterous archer. Swift and unerring, the swara-s fly with a feathered grace and hit the bull’s eye ten times out of ten. Pundits are never tired of equating her unconcern with flippancy, her laughter with scoffing and her freedom with apostacy. To them, MLV has only one answer. It is the joy she derives from the exercise of her swift and penetrating mind. It was in Sruti that it was first stated that M.S. Subbulakshmi, D.K. Pattammal and M.L. Vasanthakumar constituted “the female trinity” of Carnatic classical music. The article (Sruti 41) went on: “…in a sense, each represents a certain aspect of Carnatic music, though none is wanting in any of the aspects. Subbulakshmi, of course, symbolizes bhakti. It would be most appropriate to say that Pattammal is an embodiment of aacharam; though she blazed a trail as a woman singer with so-called manly virtues, she has been a constant custodian of what is best in tradition. And none would deny that the outstanding characteristic of MLV’s music has been buddhi or intellect. The three sisters of song have indeed most successfully projected, each in a unique way, the three significant faces of our musical heritage. Sangita Kalanidhi M.L. Vasanthakumari, bridging the past and the present, offers in her singing, especially of ragam-tanampallavi, music which is truly a phenomenon of the mind. As in the case of G.N. Balasubramaniam, her master, intellect dominates but it does so without elbowing out emotion. “Interestingly, although Vasanthakumari is not widely regarded as a pallavi specialist, it is in the rendering of ragam-tanampallavi she shines most. This is the case perhaps because she finds greater scope for intellect-led imagination in raga elaboration and swaraprastara than in the rendering of kriti-s. In regard to the latter, with exceptions, she is generally ‘acceptable to good’—the usual exceptions being the lighter Sruti E - Issue 31 compositions of Purandaradasa and some modem composers in singing which she succeeds admirably in bringing out their lyrical beauty—but in the elaboration of raga-s and in kalpana swara, she has few equals. Vasanthakumari’s raga delineation is marked by the same step-by-step development that was patented by her guru. There is in it not only technical mastery but also an orderliness, a cool sophistication that eschews sentimentality, an adventuresome probing of the deeper aspects and an innovativeness rooted in tradition. Her capacity for niraval, which she executes with felicitous ease, is outstanding. Her technical mastery is further revealed in the srutibhedam where, in the course of the alapana, she transposes the notes of the scale of the raga to a different set of positions, thus creating a complementary melodic image. Srutibhedam is somewhat puzzling and disconcerting to the uninitiated and may give rise to the impression that the musician is drifting off the chosen raga, but Vasanthakumari takes the risk and executes srutibhedam nonchalantly if excessively. She is nothing if she is not bold.” Excerpts from an analysis published in Sruti in 1984: “At one time, Vasanthakumari’s raga alapana was dominated by speed and an exuberant use of briga-s, but she makes more restrained use of these elements these days, perhaps a reflection of greater maturity as well as a diminished dexterity of the vocal chords. This latter fact perhaps underlies another—but not so welcome—aspect of her raga alapana today. She strains as she reaches the upper register and the progression to the panchama is often marked by a certain repetitiveness. On such occasions, she recalls to our mind the circling of an aircraft, in a holding pattern, while waiting to land. While she is in this holding pattern, the short, staccato phrases which characterize her alapana and which suit her method of raga development, suddenly acquire the tedious quality of a dissertation on the difference between tweedledum and tweedledee. However, when she is not over-tired from giving too many recitals in a row—this happens because, teaching as she does at the Rishi Valley School, there’s a crowding of engagements during the holidays—when she is at her best, she offers alapana-s which compel our admiration and covet our hearts as well as our minds. Usually, each recital of Vasanthakumari’s contains at least one such offering. We recall, 32 Sruti E - Issue for example, a superb Saveri at a recital presented by the Music Circle in Madras; an outstanding Devamanohari, a speciality of hers, at a club date at the Madras Indian Institute of Technology; and a Todi, a Bhairavi, a Subhapantuvarali and a couple of versions of Mohana Kalyani at other recitals. In these days of tanam in a trice, Vasanthakumari’s rendering of this item is like water to parched lips. Not only does she offer more than a token tanam, she does full justice to it in a spirited fashion. And while not many women musicians sing tanam well, she does. Particularly noteworthy is her tanam for the ghana raga panchakam— Nata, Goula, Arabhi, Varali and Sree—which she sings literally forwards and backwards. Vasanthakumari is impressive in singing pallavi-s in complicated rhythmic patterns (e.g. sankeerna nadai, pancha nadai, 6 and 4-kalai-s) as well as simpler tala-s (e.g., Misra Chapu). And she sings in many raga-s. Outstanding pallavi-s we would like to draw attention to include Mal maruga Guha Saravanabhava in Bhairavi raga and Eka tala which she presented at the Madras Music Academy in 1977, handling the niraval in the complicated pancha nadai with remarkable skill and artistry; Un darisanam kidaikkumo Nataraja dayanidhe in Kalyani and Misra Chapu, which she presented at the Rasika Ranjani Sabha in Mylapore a couple of years ago and earlier in New York; Neeve gati ani nammiti in Saveri and Misra Jhampa at the Sri Krishna Gana Sabha in Madras in 1983; and Nandagopala Mukunda in Bhairavi and Tisra Triputa which she demonstrated at the Gayana Samaj in Bangalore not long ago. Interesting for its technical aspect Sruti E - Issue 33 but not so appealing to the ear is Idu nalla samayame, Devamanohariye in Devamanohari which she rendered at the IIT, Madras. In this pallavi, her enunciation of words is very harsh, needed perhaps for the purpose of emphasizing rhythm, and melody takes a back seat. As in alapana, so too in swaraprastara Vasanthakumari reveals her capacity for originality and imagination. Her kalpana swara-s are notable for their fluid grace and their interesting combinations. They are usually in sarva laghu and not technically complicated, but they are unpremeditated products of a fertile imagination, making it difficult for accompanists to follow. Most thrilling are the ragamalika swara-s she often sings as part of ragam-tanarn-pallavi. The choice of the raga-s and swara combinations both are obviously spontaneous, adding to the effect on the listeners. In these lovely garlands, she pleats together such classically traditional raga-s as Kanada, Kedaram, Yadukulakambhoji and Sahana, as also off-beat raga-s and raga-s with a Hindustani accent, like Tilang, Revati, Sindhubhairavi, Kalavati, Chandrakauns, Bhavani and Sekharachandrika the last-named is a variant of Subhapantuvarali, minus the latter’s pa. Again, as in raga alapana, so in swarasprastara too Vasanthakumari shows a penchant for srutibhedam, or grahabhedam as it is also called. Here she adds a twist, by revealing the outline of a different raga while executing the grahabhedam in one. For example, when she is singing swara-s in Revati, using sa-ri-ma-pa-ni-sa—she sings sa-ga-madha-ni-sa, starting on the ri of Revati while executing the grahabhedam. The result is a brief switch from Revati to Sunadavinodini—truly producing a pleasant sound (sunada) in a novel mode (vinodini). It is in comparison to the superior quality of her raga elaboration and swara-singing that Vasanthakumari’s rendering of sahityas appears, by and large, to be nothing more than merely competent. On occasion, she invests it also with a superior quality. One example that comes to mind is her rendering of Darini in Suddha Saveri in which she sings the opening line, piling sangati upon sangati, in a most thrilling fashion. It is however in singing the compositions of Purandaradasa, to which she has devoted years of study, she projects a special feeling that 34 Sruti E - Issue invariably carries to the listener. Those who know Kannada are often moved to tears by the ugaboga—the narrative verses—she sings as a prelude to the devamama-s of the pathfinder of Carnatic music. An example of this is Ninnantha Swami prefacing Yake nirdaya nadiyo in Subhapantuvarali. Other favourite compositions carrying the stamp of Vitthala are: Narayana in Suddha Dhanyasi, Innudaya barade in Kalyana Vasantam; and Neene anada bandhu in Nadanamakriya. Vasanthakumari’s repertoire includes, of course, a large number of the compositions of the Trinity. It also includes a selection of kriti-s by latter-day composers, especially those of Papanasam Sivan, Ramanathapuram Srinivasa Iyengar and her guru G.N. Balasubramaniam. Among contemporary composers represented in it are Ambujam Krishna, R. Venugopal, Periasami Thooran and Lalgudi Jayaraman with his tillana-s. Vasanthakumari’s kutcheri format accommodates, besides ragam-tanam-pallavi, the usual items like vamam; a kriti in a weighty raga such as Sankarabharanam, Kalyani, Bhairavi, Kambhoji, Todi or Kharaharapriya; a contrasting and less elaborately rendered kriti in Amritavarshini, Mohanam, Arabhi, Andolika, Hindolam or Poorvikalyani; some lighter compositions following the main item; and a tillana to be sure. She leaves a more lasting and pleasant impression behind when she ends the recital with a viruttam in ragamalika, such as Oru taram Saravanabhava emu. Tired blood is the phrase we have used to describe the reason for great musicians failing adequately to draw on their immense musical resources in planning and fulfilling concert engagements. It is a syndrome which seems to afflict a number of our senior musicians today. Although this may partly be the case with Vasanthakumari also, we need not perhaps feel too dispirited because she does offer, for the better part of each programme, music that challenges our imagination. That’s more than what one can say about many others, especially those musicians of the succeeding generations.” Sruti E - Issue 35 36 Sruti E - Issue Sruti E - Issue 37