T V Sankaranarayanan has no manodharma
(The following review in The Hindu on 23rd December 2009. T V Sankaranarayanan has taken serious exception to my reference to his health. The words "after a surgery" that appear within brackets in the print version, are not mine. They were introduced by the Hindu Desk. But I personally dont find anything wrong with it. TVS has asked for an apology to be published in The Hindu, because he feels the reference to health is "personal". This is patently silly. A 'star''s health and hospitalisation WILL be taken note of by the Press and to term that as 'personal'. After all, didnt we say that Sunil Gavaskar scored a century in the Nagpur one-day with 102 degree fever? Was the reference to 'fever' personal? People like T V Sankaranarayanan ought to realise that they are not holy cows who cannot be negatively commented upon.)
Review of T V Sankaranarayanan's concert for Parthasarathy Swami Sabha
It was vintage TVS, from start to finish. Empowered by a complete mastery over the art, the veteran vocalist provided his audience the thrill of speed. All the major elements of the concert – Sogasuchuda Tharama, (Kannada Gowlai, Thyagaraja), Aparama Bhakti (Panthuvarali, Thyagaraja), Bhuvini Dasudana (Sriranjani, Thyagaraja) and Sarojadala Netri (Sankarabharanam, Syama Shastri) – came as a hurricane, raining swaras. Aesthetics fell victim to the blitzkrieg – an inescapable exception to the performance – even if one made an allowance for the concert being ‘the same old Sankaranarayanan’ all through. The singer bellows a lot – a good example of this was the raucous ‘ra’ in ‘budha manohara’ in the Sriranjani piece. A long-time TVS fan rationalised that the convalescent singer – TVS underwent a surgery recently – perhaps wanted to prove a point about his fitness, but that is hardly convincing.
One felt a stab of déjà vu as TVS sang the niraval and kalpana swaras in Kannada Gowlai, Panthuvarali and Sankarabharanam, though this is not to say that they were not enjoyable. The ‘Madurai Mani style’ swara singing seldom fails to enchant, no matter how repetitive, which is a tribute to the great Madurai Mani Iyer, TVS’s uncle and guru.
TVS chose the traditional points for niraval and swaras for both Panthuvarali and Sankarabharanam. The line ‘kapi vaaridhi daatuna’ – where Thyagaraja poses a rhetoric as to how could a monkey (Hanuman) have leapt across the ocean except with God’s grace – is of a great emotive import, but alas this emotive appeal was lost in the holler. The choice of Sarojadala netri was rather obvious, that being a Friday (a Goddess day). TVS was wise to pick up the line ‘Korivacchina’ for niraval and swaras. The swaras, while sounding very familiar, did provide a roller-coaster thrill to the listener.
The best part of the performance was the Sriranjani alapana of Mahadevan Sankaranarayanan, TVS’s son, disciple and co-singer at the concert. It was a brilliant alapana, full of aesthetic appeal. The boy has a bright future, we will be seeing a lot more of him.
Accompanists Nagai Muralidharan (violin) and Umayalpuram Sivaraman on the mridangam played in a manner that was consistent with their stature, although one must say that both artistes have played a lot better than they did that day. Sundar Kumar on the kanjira gave unobtrusive support.
Guru Purandara Dasa, who extracted music from the Vedas and brought it to us
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Yesudas, 13th December 2009, Nungambakkam Cultural Academy
At 69, Yesudas still fully retains the zest for giving his best. As it is, his somewhat confounding style of carnatic rendering itself adds to the thrill of listening to him. The renowned vocalist adds colour to this style by selecting rare ragas and compositions, bringing them to life.
For example, in his concert for Nungambakkam Cultural Academy on (December 13, 2009), the singer picked up two rare numbers – Sri Gananatham Bhajamyaham in Kanakangi and Nee Sari Sati in Hemavathi. By a remarkable coincidence, both these compositions are subject to a view that they are not Thyagaraja’s compositions as they are supposed to be, but are among the ‘prakshipta kritis’ (spurious) that have the saint composer’s signature woven into them by other composers. Notably, ‘Sri Gananatham’ also has ‘Guru guha’ in its lines, but nobody believes it to be a composition of Muthuswamy Dikshithar.
Regardless, both the numbers were brilliantly sung. Yesudas’ handling of Kanakangi (the 1st raga on the melakarta table) was a sufficient illustration to demolish the illogical view that vivadis are neither easy to sing nor provide an aesthetic appeal. The kalpana swaras had a ‘vedic recitation’ aspect about them.
It was in the Hemavathi alapana that Yesudas’ flummoxing style came to the fore. If the more-popular Dikshithar composition, Sri Kanti Matim, is taken as the benchmark for the raga, Yesudas’ alapana sounded quite different. But as much as it lacked the commonly accepted Hemavathi-feel, it was thoroughly enjoyable.
But what followed was a contrast. God alone can tell why Yesudas picked up the pancha ratna kriti Dudukuku gala (Gowlai). It was sung slow and bald, so much so that one had to search for Gowlai in it. Perhaps the vocalist lost the momentum owing to his distraction from the low but hoarse noise of plastic chairs being moved in the area behind him, which he publicly deprecated more than once. It was a relief when the Gowlai ended.
The Bhairavi (Upacharamu of Thyagaraja) that followed had strokes of ‘light music’ – a ‘different’ Bhairavi.
Mahadeva Sarma on the violin accompanied brilliantly, though at points through the Bhairavi, Yesudas was visibly unhappy with the instrument’s sruthi alignment. Tiruvarur Bhaktavatsalam on the mridangam, who played raucously in another concert, was this time sweetness itself. He played every so gently and truly nourished the concert. Ghatam artiste Tirupunanthurai Radhakrishnan was full of verve and drew thunderous applause.
At 69, Yesudas still fully retains the zest for giving his best. As it is, his somewhat confounding style of carnatic rendering itself adds to the thrill of listening to him. The renowned vocalist adds colour to this style by selecting rare ragas and compositions, bringing them to life.
For example, in his concert for Nungambakkam Cultural Academy on (December 13, 2009), the singer picked up two rare numbers – Sri Gananatham Bhajamyaham in Kanakangi and Nee Sari Sati in Hemavathi. By a remarkable coincidence, both these compositions are subject to a view that they are not Thyagaraja’s compositions as they are supposed to be, but are among the ‘prakshipta kritis’ (spurious) that have the saint composer’s signature woven into them by other composers. Notably, ‘Sri Gananatham’ also has ‘Guru guha’ in its lines, but nobody believes it to be a composition of Muthuswamy Dikshithar.
Regardless, both the numbers were brilliantly sung. Yesudas’ handling of Kanakangi (the 1st raga on the melakarta table) was a sufficient illustration to demolish the illogical view that vivadis are neither easy to sing nor provide an aesthetic appeal. The kalpana swaras had a ‘vedic recitation’ aspect about them.
It was in the Hemavathi alapana that Yesudas’ flummoxing style came to the fore. If the more-popular Dikshithar composition, Sri Kanti Matim, is taken as the benchmark for the raga, Yesudas’ alapana sounded quite different. But as much as it lacked the commonly accepted Hemavathi-feel, it was thoroughly enjoyable.
But what followed was a contrast. God alone can tell why Yesudas picked up the pancha ratna kriti Dudukuku gala (Gowlai). It was sung slow and bald, so much so that one had to search for Gowlai in it. Perhaps the vocalist lost the momentum owing to his distraction from the low but hoarse noise of plastic chairs being moved in the area behind him, which he publicly deprecated more than once. It was a relief when the Gowlai ended.
The Bhairavi (Upacharamu of Thyagaraja) that followed had strokes of ‘light music’ – a ‘different’ Bhairavi.
Mahadeva Sarma on the violin accompanied brilliantly, though at points through the Bhairavi, Yesudas was visibly unhappy with the instrument’s sruthi alignment. Tiruvarur Bhaktavatsalam on the mridangam, who played raucously in another concert, was this time sweetness itself. He played every so gently and truly nourished the concert. Ghatam artiste Tirupunanthurai Radhakrishnan was full of verve and drew thunderous applause.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Geetha Rajasekhar belongs to the Big League
Both Geetha Rajasekhar and violinist M A Krishnaswamy made the concert memorable – in their own ways. The vocalist with her scintillating Shanmukhapriya and the violinist with his intemperate remarks on the percussionists. Krishnaswamy, who found mridangam and ghatam too loud, curtly told the sound technician to tone down their volume. Waving towards mridangist Thanjavur Subramanian and ghatam artiste H Sivaramakrishnan, Krishnaswamy told the technician not to raise the volume, “even if they ask you to do.” He did not stop with that. “We,” he said pointing to Geetha Rajasekhar and himself, “are they main artistes here. He later explained me the remark was directed against the ghatam artiste and not the mridangist. It appears, from what Krishnaswamy's brother M A Sundaresan told me just outside the hall that day, that Sivaramakrishnan has a habit of asking the sound technician to raise the volume of his mike. In any case, it was in poor taste. A seasoned artiste ought to know better to make intemperate remarks from the the stage.
It is indeed an indication of how seasoned the artistes are that despite this turbulence the concert was of classy. Geetha’s singing is an amalgam of a clear, ringing voice and unrelenting fidelity to tradition, and it is a mystery as to why she is not a crowd puller. I am reminded of the superb Harikambodhi she sang at Indian Fine Arts in the 'season' of 2008. The lady has a grip over the art. She ought to get more recognition.
There were three main components of the concert – Shanmukhapriya (Ekambareswara Nayakim of Muthuswamy Dikshitar, the main piece), Begada (Va Muruga va of Spencer Venugopal, popularized by D K Jayaraman) and Bhuvinidasudanu (Sriranjani, Thyagaraja). While all the three were good, the crown belongs to the Shanmukhapriya. The alapana was brisk and brika-oriented, reminiscent of GNB. The line ‘Kanchi Nagara Nivasinim’ was taken up for niraval and swaras. Geetha’s style of swara singing, observed in many of her performances, is like watching a Ferrari down the track. Snappy singing has its own charm, but one would like to see how she sings slow, karvai-based swara sequences.
The Begada and Sriranjani pieces were good too, but they both were in some ways incomplete. The Begada piece had no swaras. A Begada without swaras is a truncated Begada. The Sriranjani piece was tailed by lovely sets of swaras, but they did not touch the upper ma. This was surprising because her voice showed no strain and it is not as though she had any difficulty in dwelling on the upper notes.
Veteran mridangist Thanjavur Subramanian showed great sense of anticipation while playing for swaras. He played very well throughout the concert. H Sivaramakrishnan made his presence felt during the tani.
It is indeed an indication of how seasoned the artistes are that despite this turbulence the concert was of classy. Geetha’s singing is an amalgam of a clear, ringing voice and unrelenting fidelity to tradition, and it is a mystery as to why she is not a crowd puller. I am reminded of the superb Harikambodhi she sang at Indian Fine Arts in the 'season' of 2008. The lady has a grip over the art. She ought to get more recognition.
There were three main components of the concert – Shanmukhapriya (Ekambareswara Nayakim of Muthuswamy Dikshitar, the main piece), Begada (Va Muruga va of Spencer Venugopal, popularized by D K Jayaraman) and Bhuvinidasudanu (Sriranjani, Thyagaraja). While all the three were good, the crown belongs to the Shanmukhapriya. The alapana was brisk and brika-oriented, reminiscent of GNB. The line ‘Kanchi Nagara Nivasinim’ was taken up for niraval and swaras. Geetha’s style of swara singing, observed in many of her performances, is like watching a Ferrari down the track. Snappy singing has its own charm, but one would like to see how she sings slow, karvai-based swara sequences.
The Begada and Sriranjani pieces were good too, but they both were in some ways incomplete. The Begada piece had no swaras. A Begada without swaras is a truncated Begada. The Sriranjani piece was tailed by lovely sets of swaras, but they did not touch the upper ma. This was surprising because her voice showed no strain and it is not as though she had any difficulty in dwelling on the upper notes.
Veteran mridangist Thanjavur Subramanian showed great sense of anticipation while playing for swaras. He played very well throughout the concert. H Sivaramakrishnan made his presence felt during the tani.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Neyveli Santhanagopalan is not the artiste he used to be
(A shorter version of this write-up appeared in The Hindu on December 15, 2009)
Neyveli Santhanagopalan has lost either interest in singing or confidence in his abilities. These days he doesn’t swerve off the beaten track, is content to present his ‘regulars’ – the same ragas, compositions and notes. That is a pity, because Santhanagopalan is truly a great artiste who has the rare ability to undertake daring expeditions into the depths of a raga without sacrificing the meditative or aesthetic aspect of music.
If any proof was needed that Santhanagopalan is not the artiste he used to be, it was amply provided in his concert for Nungambakkam Cultural Academy. He could even be forgiven him for the fact that every single number of the concert was so very Santhanagopalan-ish, rendered staid by repetition. There was Giriraja Sutha (Bangla, Thyagaraja) which is an old Santhanagopalan-favourite, Teliya leru Rama (Dhenuka, Thyagaraja) which the vocalist had sung in another concert just a few days ago, Heccharikkaga rara (Yadukula kambodhi), Nalinakanti (Natajana of Thanjavur Sankara Iyer) and Bhairavi (Koluva of Thyagaraja).
But it is difficult to countenance his approach to the concert. Until well over an hour into the concert, there was no alapana. The artiste would pause long after completing a number, raising hopes that something big was about to be presented, but tame would follow. The central piece (Bhairavi) lacked elaboration, had no nereval, and in swara singing, the customary successive halving of tala cycle (koraippu) was absent—the ‘main piece feel’ was absent. All this is surprising because the vocalist’s once-recalcitrant voice was good and co-operative. He could have done a lot better.
Above all, there was too much talking from the stage with the vocalist and the accompanists indulging in garrulous mutual admiration and banter. Santhanagopalan and Mridangist Tiruvarur Bhaktavatsalam morphed the concert stage into a club-room, shaking hands and throwing effusive praise on each other. After V V Ravi played a straight Bhairavi, Santhanagopalan said that the violinist ought to be rewarded for such a Bhairavi by giving him further opportunities to accompany. Such commercials are completely out of place in a concert hall and a seasoned artiste like Santhanagopalan should know that.
True, both Nalinakanti and Bhairavi were good, but Santhanagopalan must have sung Nalinakanti a million times in the last decade. He has milked the raga, laid bare its entrails and explored every inch of its scope so much that he ought to be banned from singing it ever again. The Bhairavi was neat, but unremarkable. Surely rasikas are justified in expecting better from an artiste of Santhanagopalan’s caliber.
The only positive feature of the concert was the superb swaras for Dhenuka, reminiscent of Santhanagopalan of yesteryears.
Those of us who became die-hard fans of Santhanagopalan’s music after being mesmerized by it in the 1990s are still waiting for the artiste to make a comeback. That Kapi and Mukhari at Kalarasna!!!! That four-raga pallavi (Sankarabharananai azhaithodi vaadi kalyani darbarukku)!!! That Kiravani at Indian Fine Arts!!!! Santhanagopalan of THAT time was a phenomenally great singer.
We want him back. We have still not lost hope. Santhanagopalan should take care not to shortchange his committed rasikas -- like me!
Neyveli Santhanagopalan has lost either interest in singing or confidence in his abilities. These days he doesn’t swerve off the beaten track, is content to present his ‘regulars’ – the same ragas, compositions and notes. That is a pity, because Santhanagopalan is truly a great artiste who has the rare ability to undertake daring expeditions into the depths of a raga without sacrificing the meditative or aesthetic aspect of music.
If any proof was needed that Santhanagopalan is not the artiste he used to be, it was amply provided in his concert for Nungambakkam Cultural Academy. He could even be forgiven him for the fact that every single number of the concert was so very Santhanagopalan-ish, rendered staid by repetition. There was Giriraja Sutha (Bangla, Thyagaraja) which is an old Santhanagopalan-favourite, Teliya leru Rama (Dhenuka, Thyagaraja) which the vocalist had sung in another concert just a few days ago, Heccharikkaga rara (Yadukula kambodhi), Nalinakanti (Natajana of Thanjavur Sankara Iyer) and Bhairavi (Koluva of Thyagaraja).
But it is difficult to countenance his approach to the concert. Until well over an hour into the concert, there was no alapana. The artiste would pause long after completing a number, raising hopes that something big was about to be presented, but tame would follow. The central piece (Bhairavi) lacked elaboration, had no nereval, and in swara singing, the customary successive halving of tala cycle (koraippu) was absent—the ‘main piece feel’ was absent. All this is surprising because the vocalist’s once-recalcitrant voice was good and co-operative. He could have done a lot better.
Above all, there was too much talking from the stage with the vocalist and the accompanists indulging in garrulous mutual admiration and banter. Santhanagopalan and Mridangist Tiruvarur Bhaktavatsalam morphed the concert stage into a club-room, shaking hands and throwing effusive praise on each other. After V V Ravi played a straight Bhairavi, Santhanagopalan said that the violinist ought to be rewarded for such a Bhairavi by giving him further opportunities to accompany. Such commercials are completely out of place in a concert hall and a seasoned artiste like Santhanagopalan should know that.
True, both Nalinakanti and Bhairavi were good, but Santhanagopalan must have sung Nalinakanti a million times in the last decade. He has milked the raga, laid bare its entrails and explored every inch of its scope so much that he ought to be banned from singing it ever again. The Bhairavi was neat, but unremarkable. Surely rasikas are justified in expecting better from an artiste of Santhanagopalan’s caliber.
The only positive feature of the concert was the superb swaras for Dhenuka, reminiscent of Santhanagopalan of yesteryears.
Those of us who became die-hard fans of Santhanagopalan’s music after being mesmerized by it in the 1990s are still waiting for the artiste to make a comeback. That Kapi and Mukhari at Kalarasna!!!! That four-raga pallavi (Sankarabharananai azhaithodi vaadi kalyani darbarukku)!!! That Kiravani at Indian Fine Arts!!!! Santhanagopalan of THAT time was a phenomenally great singer.
We want him back. We have still not lost hope. Santhanagopalan should take care not to shortchange his committed rasikas -- like me!
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