Thou shalt not prescribe!

By K.G. Vijayakrishnan

I read the response of T.M. Krishna to B.M. Sundaram’s letter with consternation. I feel I ought not to remain a mute spectator to such discussions, being a linguist by profession and a Carnatic musician by training, when the eminent and widely admired senior musician and composer Mangalampalli Balamuralikrishna’s rendering of the Reetigaula composition with chatusruti dhaivata is branded as ‘ungrammatical’.

I have written in detail on this matter of what constitutes grammaticality in my book The Grammar of Carnatic Music. As the issue is worthy of repetition, I wish to put down my views for wider dissemination. The world over, specialists are now of the view that a grammar and the grammarian who writes a synchronic grammar must not be prescriptive. The only duty of the grammar and the grammarian is to describe current practice if attested by a group of established users; he or she does not have any right to condemn any practice as ‘ungrammatical’ if it is prevalent among established users. This certainly holds for language, and I feel also for Carnatic music which is a language like system.

Let me begin with an example from language. It is a well known fact that a large population of Tamil speakers do not use the rare and beautiful consonant sound that occurs at the end of the word ‘Tamil’ as they have lost this sound which is replaced by the lateral sound which occurs at the end of the word /teeL/ meaning ‘scorpion’. According to linguists, the speech of people who attest this pronunciation must not be termed ‘ungrammatical’, contrary to what Tamil pundits may aver or Tamil orthography indicates. The only reality of a language/dialect is change; whereas usage keeps changing, writing systems rarely do.

Turning to Carnatic music, we know that the raga Gaulipantu is sometimes rendered with a suddha madhyama and sometimes with a prati madhyama. We are also aware that some established musicians render the Muthuswami Dikshitar composition with a suddha madhyama, while rendering Tyagaraja kriti-s with the prati madhyama (which is quite similar to people pronouncing the word ‘route’ to rhyme with ‘lout’ in the US but with ‘root’ elsewhere). Being a disciple of the late musicologist, Rangaramanuja Iyengar, I normally use his Kritimanimalai to learn new compositions. As a musicologist he was way ahead of his times as he tried to follow a descriptive methodology while commenting on usage/changing practices etc., but as a musician and teacher he stuck to his personal judgements. (An aside is not irrelevant at this point. How many of today’s musicians/musicologists are aware that Rangaramanuja Iyengar had given the notation for two versions of the Muthuswami Dikshitar composition Rangapuravihara in the raga Brindavana Saranga calling one of them ‘navinam’ implying that the other one is (closer to) the original in all the editions of Kritimanimalai?) He notes with reservation that the use of prati madhyama was gaining ground in the fifties. Therefore, according to him, as per orthodox practice, the raga Gaulipantu is a janya of Mayamalavagaula and hence only the suddha madhyama must be used. However, admiring the renderings of many musicians like the late M.S. Subbulakshmi, I choose to render the Tyagaraja kriti Terateeyakaraadaa with prati madhyama. I am fully aware that my guru would not have approved of it at all. Will this constitute ‘ungrammaticality’? To him, who was a prescriptivist as a teacher, it would have been completely ungrammatical and my rendering totally unjustifiable since I am very proficient in learning from (his) notation. But how would contemporary musicians generally react to my rendering? They, I am sure, will feel that Rangaramanuja Iyengar’s reaction was unduly orthodox and that the matter does not deserve condemnation. If this contemporary reaction is acceptable, it is logical to come to the conclusion that Mangalampalli Balamuralikrishna’s rendering of Sree Neelotpalanayike with chatusruti dhaivata is also acceptable and hence perfectly grammatical.

My plea is that all systems of notation published by established musicians/musicologists, be it Subbarama Dikshitar, Rangaramanuja Iyengar or renderings by established musicians (with established musical lineage) should be taken as statements of personal preference. There is no need to handle Muthuswami Dikshitar compositions with kid gloves just because Subbarama Dikshitar notated many of his compositions. The person notating the art object in Carnatic music merely records the practice he/she approves/follows/or tries to follow (even this is suspect given the human condition). Therefore, one set of notations may not be inherently superior to or more ‘authentic’ than other sets of notation.

To conclude, given Mangalampalli Balamuralikrishna’s experience, knowledge and preferences, his decision must be respected, as it is acceptable to a sizeable population of Carnatic music practitioners, notwithstanding some voices of dissent. Of course, voices of dissent must not be stifled. Each side having had its say, let individual musicians decide for themselves. No orthodoxy can ever hope to stem the tide of change. Change is the law of life and change happens additively like a flood or avalanche sweeping aside small obstacles of dissent found in its path. I am not saying this with total approval as many things rare and beautiful disappear because of the general law of survival, which is always determined by the lowest common denominator: the strength of numbers.

Vidya without vinaya

By S. Keshava Murthy

Vidwan T.M. Krishna is one of the most acclaimed Carnatic vocalists. Goddess Saraswati has bestowed on him many prime qualities of a vocalist and blessed him abundantly, not to take away the hard work and innovative methods he employs during his concerts. In fact, he is the right role model for the younger generation pursuing this art. This statement is exclusively applicable to his ‘vidya’, not to his ‘vinaya’.

The Bangalore Gayana Samaja recently presented him in their inaugural concert in connection with their 44th Annual Music Conference. True to his tradition, he began his concert with the major raga Todi. The kriti lasted over 30 minutes.

When the concert had progressed to around 45 minutes, there developed a minor technical snag in the audio hardware, which needed a few minutes to set right. This sudden development was beyond the control of the organisers. At this juncture, Krishna exhibited unpleasant body language which did not go well with the tradition and prestige of the institution. He threw the microphone and started singing without the support of the amplifying unit.

Meanwhile, the organisers diagnosed the hitch and rectified the problem in a few minutes. When Krishna was requested to switch over to the mike, he refused and threw a tantrum, which was disrespectful of the music connoisseurs in the auditorium.

The entire concert was hijacked without the audio system and the music lovers were deprived of relishing Krishna’s music. In the history of Gayana Samaja, no musician has ever resorted to this kind of treatment to the music loving audience. This virtually amounted to disrespect to goddess Saraswati.

Numerous strong protests are being exchanged in various rasika-related sites condemning the behaviour of the artist.

Sairam and Chaitrra

Young voices
(Conversations with emerging artists)

By Sushma Somasekharan

Photo by Eshita Prasanna

Mridangam artist Delhi Sairam and his vocalist wife Chaitrra Sairam are a rare couple in Carnatic music. Sairam (DS) accompanied Chaitrra (C) in a concert for the first time 2001 and they were married in 2008. It was their shared passion, Carnatic music, that brought them together. They speak with respect for each other’s talent and their mutual influence has evidently helped them immensely in their musical pursuits.

Tell me about your journey in music so far.

C: I was initiated into Carnatic music at a very young age. Music has been part of my genes. My great grandfather was a musician in Mysore, Sri C Rangiah. My mother was my first guru. I learnt from various teachers before coming under the tutelage of my current guru Bombay Jayashri Akka. I have been learning from her for the last 12 years.

DS: Unlike my wife, I am the first musician in my family. My talent was first noticed by my parents when I used to tap on vessels and walls. My first guru was Sri TR Dhandapani in Delhi, where I lived for the first 16 years of my life. I started learning from Tiruvarur Bhaktavatsalam Sir in 1997 and have been his student since.

Please describe the experience so far.

C: Learning from Akka has been one of the most beautiful experiences in my life. She taught me how to enjoy music, the different nuances to be enjoyed and how to present the music in a way that others can experience the same joy. Without her, I would not know how deep and vast this ocean of music is. Akka gives all her students the freedom to explore different aspects of music. As I have studied psychology, music therapy is an area I would like to do further research in. I believe music has the power to heal people and I am keen to use my musical knowledge to do the same.

DS: It has been nothing short of wonderful! In fact, moving to Chennai and learning under Sir was the big break for me. I should thank Vinayakram Sir for this opportunity. When my first guru learnt about my decision to move to Chennai, he suggested I learn from Vinayakram Sir. As he was busy with other commitments, he suggested I go T.V Gopalakrishnan Sir or Bhaktavatsalam Sir. I contacted the latter first and he readily accepted me as his student. I would not have a career in mridangam if not for him; he has been my source of inspiration in many ways.

What is your schedule like during the year?

DS: I spend most of my year performing. Since 2009, I have been going to Canada to teach at Sir’s music school. I usually leave in the month of May and return in August. Apart from teaching, I also perform with artists visiting Canada. I had the privilege of performing with Sir and Sri V.V. Subramaniam and Sri V.V.S. Murari in 2009. I have performed with Sri Sikkil Gurucharan and Sri Sashank Subramanyam since. My wife also travels with me. We are part-time lecturers at this music school called Kalaikovil Academy of Fine Arts.

Your most memorable concert experience?

DS: One of them would have to be my first overseas concert tour with Smt Ranjani-Gayatri. We had 23 concerts in the USA. It was humbling to see rasikas drive for two to three hours from other cities to listen to our kutcheri, an inspiring, unforgettable experience. Another memorable experience was accompanying in a double mridangam concert; that was also my first kutcheri with him. We performed with Sri Suryaprakash at the Raghavendra temple in Tiruvallur.

C: Travelling with Akka to Europe for her concerts was definitely special. I learnt a great deal about choosing appropriate songs for the audience and venue, creating a rapport with the listeners and about being a professional artist. Performing along with her in Malaysia also holds a special place in my heart.

How has marriage to a musician helped you?

C: We both never run out of things to say to each other and it’s mainly because of music. We have so much to share and understand. Having him in my life has given a different colour to my music. His influence has helped my music to be distinct from my fellow Jayashree disciples; it is more laya oriented. As a vocalist, I was always concerned about pleasing the audience. I learnt from him that it is just as important to have a good understanding with the co-artists on stage too. Understanding the traits of the mridangam and violin players helps to enhance the concert and listening experience.

Another important lesson I learnt from him is the need to finish a song at the same speed in which I started it. I tend to get excited on stage when handling quick brigas or singing swarams in the second kalam, resulting in an increase in tempo. He pointed it out to me that such fluctuations in tempo can pose problems ideal for the mridangam player.

Do you perform together regularly?

DS: We don’t perform together regularly in Chennai. We do not want to get too used to each other on stage, too predictable, as we practise together regularly at home.

C: And that might make the concert experience a tad boring for both of us. I might expect him to cover up my flaws on stage and it is not wise for me to get used to such comforts. Performing with other co-artists will force me to work on my weaker aspects and have varied inputs to my music.

DS: However, when we perform out of Chennai, we travel together as it is also an excuse for a good holiday!

What changes do you see in the music scenario?

D: I think creativity has increased tremendously over the years. There are many opportunities to perform now and that motivates the performers to think of new songs or new interpretations to the old songs. Even when we look at the mridangam; back in the day, people did not play korvais as extensively as they do now. The music has evolved technically and creatively to suit the audience’s taste.

C: The need to do something new has become a must now. The audience does not want to come back to listen to the same music. Everyone demands something different; a new collaboration, or a fresh approach or a novel idea. While the current music industry offers many opportunities and platforms, it has become harder now to carve a niche for oneself. The artist has to have a distinct strength to stand out and grasp the audience’s attention.

Endangered species

By K.G. Vijayakrishnan

It is true that the system of raga-s followed by Dikshitar is severely endangered, if not almost extinct. Believe me, as a linguist and musician I face the predicament of a system becoming endangered on a day to day basis. I have analysed the sound systems of a few languages approaching endangerment rapidly and the system of veena playing so lovingly passed on to students by my guru Ranga Ramanuja Ayyangar will become extinct eventually as I am the last, but ageing practitioner with no students to pass on the tradition. Sentimentality apart, we can document it and leave it to future generations to serendipitously adopt a few ideas from the documentation. Take the lesson from language: for instance, the disappearance of Sanskrit from every day use is offset by the birth of numerous modern Indo-Aryan languages making us realise that for one beautiful system which is lost, we have many equally beautiful systems which replace it and which were enriched by the system no longer in every day use.

I wish to take up two issues related to the endangered status of the Dikshitar parampara. Firstly, the reasons for a system becoming endangered or extinct is, usually, not a single factor but several factors which act additively. The Tyagaraja tradition was more robust because there were more disciples and also because it was more popular. And the simple but tyrannical idea of the 72-melakarta straightjacket contributed in a larger measure to this state of affairs. The second issue pertains to codification/ notation in Carnatic music. Let us not forget that Carnatic music was and still is an oral culture. It is not right to assume that an oral culture is different from a literate one just in not having a widely accepted writing system. The underlying philosophies of the two systems are widely divergent.

An oral poem or narrative creates an art object which is, in principle transitory, and which cannot be pinned down to a unique ‘authentic’ art object. It varies in every telling, changing ever so minutely at each instantiation. The diagnostics of oral culture are inherent variability, transitory nature of the object created on the spur of the moment and absence of the notion of ownership and consequently, lacking the concept of ‘copyright’. Certainly these criteria are met in Carnatic music constructs like alapana, niraval and kalpanaswaram. The slightly radical extension of the idea that I am advocating is that the criteria may be extended even to the Carnatic music compositions which have known authors. Let us not forget that even these authors may have varied their rendering while teaching their disciples (at different stages of their lives). This seems to be only reasonable explanation for the fact that the same composition handed down by different disciples of the same composer have extremely variable renderings, and not just in the Tygaraja tradition. For example, nobody would want to question the credentials of Kalpagam Swaminathan and yet only in her rendering do we find the use of the anyaswara gandharam in the raga Manji. An established performer of yesteryear announced when interviewed that he/she would not even add a sangati without the permission of his/her guru. How many of us today are so ‘orthodox’ as to follow this principle? Logically speaking, if the guru has the right to modify the composition, and if the disciple is a full-fledged artist in his/her own right, he/she too can do so. In fact, the stand taken by this artist is not ‘orthodoxy’ but a misguided notion of ‘being authentic’.

By extension, the point I am labouring to make is that notation/any writing system is, in principle, exterior to the concerns of Carnatic music. At best the intention is to capture the transitory object but no one can be absolutely sure of the degree of success evidenced in the written text. It is an approximation which may or may not have captured the rendering accurately. The only thing we in the contemporary situation can be certain is one’s own taste/ one’s idiolect, so to speak. Let me give an example. In the Sangeeta Sampradaya Pradarsini, the notation for the madhyama in Veenapustaka dharinim in the raga Vegavahini is a long madhyama on the syllable ‘ta’ of pustaka. One rendering in the Brinda school of music we have heard is a gamaka (pitch curve between gandhara and panchama) on the so-called long madhayama (not indicated in SSP). My guru, feeling uncomfortable with both these interpretations, took the liberty to interpret the madhyama as short and extended the gandhara. We now have three variations of the phrase. I am sure most musicians will agree with me that the choice from the variants will be determined by factors like who one’s guru is, one’s own taste/preference, etc.

The danger of taking up a less well known tradition, in the absence of renderings one can rely on, is that the written records may be misleading. Even renderings can be misleading. What we need is training to critically evaluate a tradition and refuse to take the baggage we feel uncomfortable with. I am proud to say that even this lesson I learnt from the practice of my guru. Though he admired the style of Veena Dhanam with a religious fervour (he used to play/teach in front of the lifesize statue of the empress of veena in his music room), he critically sifted her renderings with known renderings to arrive at what seemed to him a ‘reasonable’ text. For example, her rendering of Nijamarmamulanu in Umabharanam starts with the sequence “ri ma pa” (which is what I picked up after having listened to her rendering). But R.R. Ayyangar chose to go with the phrase “ri ga ma pa” which accords well with the arohana of the raga.

Having spelt out the danger of assuming the absolute correctness of any writing system in the Carnatic music scenario, I must admit that it is a truly remarkable enterprise to want to revive a beautiful system that is on the way out. But one ought to be aware of the danger lurking in that endeavour. In a Carnatic music event if we use two distinct ‘dialects’ of raga-s of Carnatic music, the entire discourse may lack internal coherence and it may also cramp one’s creativity and spontaneity. The effort is certainly laudable.

Blame the music, not the musician

By B.R. Kumar

The Editor has expressed explicit views on the current trends in music, especially Carnatic music. As unpredictable as the game of cricket, music is organic in nature and has no shelf life – when it is born, it starts perishing. It has no absoluteness, no objectivity; it is purely subjective and defies all descriptions and definitions. It has no definiteness. There are theories and theories about music, but all these theories are born out of music! And therefore, music is not bound by any steadfast theory.

What is music at this moment may be something else in the ensuing moments. Such is its evolution. Acceptability of music at a particular time, depends upon the conditioning of our own mind. What it was yesterday and what it will be tomorrow, is beyond human comprehension. Therefore let us savour music as it is. The “is-ness” is very important and unique in all respects. In your editorial you have mentioned “unsatisfactory vocalisation and undesirable vocal habits among many singers in the Carnatic music kutcheri circuit”. The blame should not be on the individual performing artist, but on music itself.

Our stalwarts have set a path without any boundaries and hence the travellers now in this path are free to break them according to their will and wisdom. Cleverness devoid of wisdom is extremely dangerous and destructive, but wisdom can survive without cleverness. We internally stand in opposition to what is and so we feel the pain of ever evolving musical patterns.

We listeners always follow the path of what we have heard so far. We do not know the form of music that prevailed several decades ago. It is a rolling stone that gathers no mass. Let us accept what is unacceptable. That is the greatest grace in this world. Only then can we realise the inherent shining glory of the musical patterns, which was, is and will be.

Music is a multi-coloured mansion. While enjoying it, let us not unravel its foundation. Let us effortlessly enjoy music and melt and merge in its limitless form.

Chithra Madhavan’s article on Chidambaram was interesting and informative. But Nandanar’s merger with Lord Siva took place in a shrine known as Tiruppoonkoor located about three kilometres away on the Vaitheeswaran Koil – Tiruppanandaal road, not at Chidambaram. It is here that Nandi moved aside for Nandanar to have a clear view of the Lord. It was here that Nandanar merged with the Lord. Nandanar was also known as Tirunalaipovar and his village Adanur is situated about five kilometres from Tiruppoonkoor. The famous composition Sivalokanathan Tiruchannidanam was rendered at this shrine.