Guru Purandara Dasa, who extracted music from the Vedas and brought it to us

Saturday, January 21, 2012

T M Krishna: Tilting at the windmills



  1. When I sent this (http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-features/tp-editorialfeatures/article2797164.ece) review for publication in The Hindu, I was sure I had done a fair job, giving a true picture of his performance. I thought it was positive, and deservedly so, because although it was not among his very best, it was still pretty good.

    But a few days after the publication of the review, T M Krishna, wrote a looooong letter to Mukund Padmanabhan of The Hindu, the Associate Editor incharge of Friday features. A copy of the letter was forwarded to me, reading of which caused me a lot of amusement.

    Regrettably, Mukund decided not to publish Krishna's rejoinder. I was all for it. For, that letter of T M Krishna's, which took exception to many things I had said in my review, is bovine excrement of the purest form. Again regrettably, since it was a correspondent between TMK and Mukund, I am unable to reproduce it here. I would have loved to.

    Basically, TMK makes three points in his rejoinder.
    1. In pointing out that TMK used the ni-sa combination in singing Vegavahini while the textbook says the raga assumes the notes da-ni-da-sa in its ascent, I had got it completely wrong. He offers tonnes of proof that it is not so, and pouring scorn and innuendo at my ignorance, he wonders which textbook I refer to. He also wonders if I think that Muthusami Dikshithar himself got the raga wrong and points out that musicians like him do research a lot, practice a lot to internalise what they have learnt before offering a raga in a concert.

    Well. It is indeed a cruel joke of Fate that the other side of such a gifted musician should be so Quixotic. When I read the rejoinder the vivid picture that manifested itself before my eyes was that of an armoured old man riding a skinny horse and rushing to attack a windmill believing that it was a ferocious giant. The similarity between Don Quixote de la Mancha and Thodur Madabusi Krishna is inescapably striking as he rushes to attack me, perceiving criticism when there is none.
    No where in my review have I said that Krishna was technically incorrect. The textbook that I refer to, dear TMK, is 'Ragas in Carnatic Music' by Dr S Bhagyalekshmy, and all I have done is to point out the contrasting definition of Vegavahini as obtained from Krishna's singing, and that given by Dr Bhagyalekshmy. Period. To repeat, no where have I said that Krishna was techically flawed.

    To simplify my stand, let me illustrate it by means of an example. Suppose I am singing Mohanam and here and there you detect 'ni', then you are going to say that I have not understood Mohanam well. But on the other hand, if I use 'ni' throughout the singing, you're likely to think that what I am doing is a variant of Mohanam, a different school. You are not going to say I havent understood the raga because quite obviously, I am using the nishadam deliberately.

    It was in such a spirit that I wondered at the difference between Krishna's Vegavanihi and the ascent-descent lakshana given in the 'textbook'.


    TMK has every right (and perhaps duty) to point out that Vegavahini as portrayed by him is not unprecedented or without the sanction of the grammer, instead of assuming that I have tried to pick nits in his singing.

    2. The second point that T M K makes in his letter is that he did not 'challenge' the violinist, R K Sriramkumar, to identify the raga, but merely asked him to help him out, because he had forgotten the name of the raga. Challenge the accompanist? he asks indignantly, and stressing that he would never do such a thing. He also observes that if I had meant it to be humourous, it was in 'bad taste'.
  2. Well, again the Quixotic streak. If everything tastes bad, then he ought to get his tongue checked out. The truth is, it was a challenge alright, but certainly a friendly one, without any trace of polemics, irreverence or a put-down spirit. The audience enjoyed the exchange between the two veteran artistes. I enjoyed it. I reported it. Period. To take exception to THIS reveals, if nothing else, the highly strung-up nature of the person which, it is not difficult to see, is responsible for such incredulous incomprehension of plain reportage.

    Krishna wants us to believe that having started to sing kalpana swaras in a certain raga, he not only forgot the name of the raga, but also made a public demonstration of his having forgotten it by asking the violinist if he could please tell him what it was that he was singing. This is by far the funniest thing that I have heard, and even if one were to accept, in a spirit of liberal accommodation that Krishna was speaking the truth, the fact is that he asked the violinist to identify the raga and one, sitting on the opposite side, is inevitably drawn to the conclusion that the accompanist was thrown a gauntlet and was asked to pick it up.



    3. The third point that Krishna makes in his letter is that he was never in 'discomfort', as was reported in the review, even though, he admits, he felt cramps in his foot while singing Dhanyasi. Well, very good. Who am I to say how TMK felt that day? If he says he was not in discomfort, thats it. No disputes there. All I will say in defence is that he did appear to be in discomfort, because he was so incessantly sipping water, massaging his foot, and leaving long pauses in his singing.

    Now, the problem comes when TMK addresses the issues of the long pauses. He says that he paused, and as reported, waved to the violinist to continue, only because the Sriramkumar was playing so brilliantly and he (TMK) felt impelled to leave the centrestage to him. The problem with this argument is this: during most of the pauses, especially during the one specifically adverted to, the violinist was NOT playing. There was silence on the stage, as everybody, including Sriramkumar, was staring at TMK, eagerly awaiting the next vocal phrases.

    This is not to say that TMK was not singing well, or--oh, I dread this mis-inference--that the singer lacks grip over Sankarabharanam. Several people among the audience were wondering if there was something bother Krishna either physically or mentally. Again, I only reported it. If that was not the case, and if Krishna was indeed happy and healthy, I lead the list of people who would feel a sense of relief upon learning that.
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