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“There’s so much more to learn”
In her conversation with Sruti, the Sangita Kalanidhi
designate traced her career briefly, from her early days with
her guru M.L. Vasanthakumari, through the period that
followed MLV’s death, to her present status as one of the
most popular stars of Carnatic music. She exudes an air of
confidence tempered by her innate humility and friendliness.
While acknowledging the need to reflect and introspect
after achieving the pinnacle in Carnatic music in terms of
recognition, she did speak of the vast learning ahead of
her, mainly by adding to her repertoire and improving her
technical prowess as in the area of ragam-tanam-pallavi.
What does this award mean to you?
It means everything. It gives you the angeekaram, it is the
seal of approval – that you have been moving in the right
direction, and gives you that responsibility and frame of
mind to pursue it further. It asserts, “You have been on the
right path, travelling towards a goal, and here we are to
recognise that.” It gives me greater happiness, because the
year I was awarded the scholarship to go to study with MLV
Amma was the year she was made Sangita Kalanidhi – in
1977. I was there looking at her with stars in my eyes at the
Music Academy. We don’t work towards awards, but we try
to do things the right way. In this journey, the kutcheri is a
test every time.
Are you a nervous starter at concerts?
Not a nervous starter, but aware of the need for the right
takeoff, audio, voice. Your ideas have to be right. Everything
comes tumbling down into your brain. Even today, when the
curtain goes up, the bell rings, there is that uneasy sensation
in the pit of the stomach. Butterflies!
Sudha Ragunathan
in conversation with
V. Ramnarayan
Who were your mentors after your guru’s death?
Truly so. It will make me introspect, think about what more I
can do for the art form, how I can chisel my style a little more,
take off the rough edges, make it sound more elevating.
I did not approach anybody else for a while for fear
my style would change. In my notion, my music was
still not fully formed. I was mature enough to handle
it, but I wanted to wait for a few years. That is when
Calcutta Krishnamurthi Sir said I could learn new
kritis from his pathantara. He was very fond of me.
He had just lost his son Ravi, then.
More meditative, perhaps?
What difference did that make to your music?
Yes, but people have already started noticing it.
It did not change anything, but enhanced, reiterated
the belief that the GNB-MLV style was right for
me. He always talked about saukhyam, little
nuances one could add. He encouraged, emboldened
me to sing some ragas, he made me more creative,
made me go beyond what MLV had given me.
“Make a path for yourself,” he said, “don’t be
happy and satisfied with what you imbibed from
MLV. Move forward. Your voice is different from
hers. Exploit your voice.”
Will the title make a difference to the way you sing? Is this a
time for you to pause and take stock?
Is there anything you want to do better?
I’d like to improve overall, perhaps take up ragas
I haven’t sung thus far. In my thirteen years with my
guru, there were some ragas I never heard her sing. Nor
did her guru sing some of those. “Sobhikkaatho
ennavodi?” she would say, fearing that her rendition of those
ragas would lack sheen. I should have the courage to handle
all ragas.
34 l SRUTI December 2013
What regimen do you follow to look after your voice?
Do you want to consult experts?
I try to stay quiet after continuous concerts, or when
I feel there is a tickle in the voice. I am completely
off cold and sour stuff, especially during the season,
careful about what I eat.
Very much, especially ragas.
Yes. That’s one area I can work on and should – go to
an expert, start experimenting and do a little
more innovation in that area. That would be very
interesting. When I teamed up with flautist Shashank
the other day at the Bharat Sangeet Utsav, we did not
do the usual trikalam, but went to 1-kalai and then did
trikalam.
What about someone like Kalyanaraman?
How did this idea of pairing with Shashank come about?
Yes. I listen to him a lot – if I want to listen to ragas
like Manoranjani, Ranjani, or Rasikapriya. His approach
has a different texture.
Usually Shashikiran asks me to do something different. I
sang with Balamuralikrishna Sir once. Another year, I did
a national integration concert.
Do you follow GNB’s step by step method of raga
alapana, especially in ragam-tanam-pallavi?
How was your rapport with Shashank, given that he is a
youngster and an instrumentalist?
I follow that in concerts of sufficient length. Now
concerts are so compressed, with so many audience
expectations like Dasar kritis, tillanas, Tamil kritis or
ragamalika, so the time available is short. Sometimes
the concert structure gets skewed as a result. The
pakkavadyam artists sometimes take as long as I do.
A tani avartanam by two percussionists takes at least
15 minutes. We have to meander within the space
they give us. When they give us the space, and the
whole evening is ours, then we can indulge in
manodharma.
I was nervous. The flute can really overshadow the
voice. It offers much more variety. The voice has its
limitations. Everybody who knows music was skeptical
about the idea of the concert. They thought Shashank
would overshadow me. Why are you flirting with danger,
they asked.
How often do you get a chance like that? Abroad or
here?
What is your sruti?
Do you still listen to MLV and GNB?
Yes, abroad, and at 3-hour concerts in Mumbai, at
Shanmukhananda or Fine Arts, Chembur. I recently
gave a 4-hour concert at Chembur, a special
Independence Day concert. Otherwise, you do feel
the pressure of time, looking at the clock and trying
to move forward.
How do you handle audience demands?
Sometimes they become very repetitive. I used to heed
them, try to please them until about two years ago. Some
listeners complain, “I came for this song or that and you
never sang it.” You feel hurt that you sang for three hours,
and they speak of the five minutes you did not sing. It
was a kind of guilt trip. Nowadays, I give them suitable
replies, like, “I have sung your request in tapes, you must
have heard it many times. I will oblige you next time.” I
stick to my plan.
Is ragam-tanam-pallavi your forte?
It isn’t really my forte. I am not a great expert, but what
I do I try to do well. Dwitalam, four-raga pallavis,
thematic pallavis like Dasavataram. I can’t claim to be an
expert.
Wouldn’t you have a sruti problem with the flute?
Yes, it is a problem. We managed, as it was a fairly short
concert. He is a sensitive artist. He adjusted and we tried
to give in to each other.
My sruti used to be 5.5 kattai ,but it is now 5, but I switch
to 5.5 on and off. Shashank didn’t have a flute for 5. So I
sang at 5.5.
Is singing a divine experience, or a fun thing?
It is certainly a fun thing. Eventually there may be days
when you do reach an exalted point in a concert – when
there’s no audience, no you, only the one line you are
singing exists.
Such an experience can occur at practice, maybe?
Sometimes when you are practising, you’re just crying
while the sruti goes on. Because you touched some
sangati you have never done before; you’re nervous
about doing it on stage, and you get it. It’s a eureka
moment.
Can a eureka moment happen on the concert stage?
It’s absolutely thrilling when it happens on stage.
Sometimes you have done a swara passage and you
think you can’t go beyond it. You land correctly with
perfect sruti. You feel a saukhyam, peace, a feeling of
liberation.
35 l SRUTI December 2013
Can it be a communal feeling on stage?
Sometimes the accompanists utter a bhesh or bale on
stage. Sometimes they may be restrained on stage, but
later recall that moment when everything stood still.
Sometimes the little interval between two phrases matters
so much. It happened at a recent Brussels concert.
My accompanists were Raghavendra Rao (violin),
Skandasubramaniam (mridangam), Guruprasad (ghatam)
and Raman (morsing). It was a studio concert at the 300seater at Flagee, which hosted the Europalia India festival.
The concert was at 12.30. I said to them, “Who will come
at this time? Let’s be our own audience and applaud each
other.” When we entered, the hall was full. How they
listened! The predominantly European audience focused
on little phrases, tiny pauses. I could feel it. It was a
meditative experience. I felt absolute peace, without the
paraparappu, the anxiety to do briga flourishes, rush
through sangatis and finish the concert. The accompanists
said they too felt the mood.
After the concert, a dignified looking person came to me
and said, “I came all the way from India to listen to this
concert.” I knew this person but could not place him.
He said “I’m Lalit Mansingh. The concert was out of
this world.” He said MLV once stormed into his office
when he was Director General of ICCR and said,
“What wrong have I done to you? Why do you not
send me abroad on concert tours?” Mansingh added,
“Maybe we made a mistake there, I know we fell
short of her expectations, but I’m glad her music lives
through you.”
MLV Amma did have such feelings of hurt. She used to
wonder aloud if people did not consider her worthy of
honours.
What have you added to what you learnt from MLV?
Maybe a little more visranti, more spacing? I never felt
that I could ever reproduce what she did with her
music. She was a genius. However much I listened
36 l SRUTI December 2013
to her, and tried to reproduce her music, I knew I fell
short somewhere. But then of course when I open my
mouth you know I’m her sishyati. The stamp is
unmistakable.
To follow my own path was not a deliberate plan, but
just happened. Also, for the first few years after her death,
her impact was great, as I was always listening to her.
I was almost a carbon copy, then. I could not think
beyond those sangatis. (Demonstrates Mohanam). Now
I have come out of that. I try to mix GN Sir and MLV
Amma. I do longer phrases on the sa or pa, try to be more
karvai-oriented.
Have you reduced the briga element a bit?
I think so. The pace of the kritis has come down a bit.
(Demonstrates niraval on Raka sasi vadana, to show how
she has slowed down) That hair’s breadth makes a big
difference.
Why are you still performing after more than three
decades? What does it really mean to you? Is it the fame
that keeps you going?
Music is a part of me. I am not performing to achieve
more fame. I have much more to achieve. I sing because
I love it, I am never bored with it. Suddenly, I come
across a Dasarpada when I browse through my song
book, and find it so good that I sit and tune it. I know
Kannada, so I know the meaning. There are so many,
many kritis that I still don’t know. When you start
learning new kritis, it opens up a whole new world. It is
sheer joy. In the past, every artist was known for kritis of
his parampara – GN for Ragasudharasa, Kiranavali, or
Gavati, MLV for Shanmukhapriya, or Baro Krishnayya,
Semmangudi for Kharaharapriya, or Mayamalavagaula.
They stayed within a territory in their journey. Today’s
audience wants you to do much more, it wants you to do
collaborations, thematic concerts, sing one raga for the
whole evening, pay a tribute to Tyagaraja or do a concert
of melakartas and their janya ragas. There’s so much
more to learn.
n