Post Music Season Murmurs

This has been published with a few minor changes by Sruti (India's premier music magazine) in its January 2009 edition.



The season is over, at least for me as I have wound up my 4 day sabbatical in the temples of Carnatic music. There are several aspects to drinking in the nectar of good music. The aspect of humour is not lost on me..

RASIKA DEMOGRAPHICS:

• There are many kinds of rasikas. They come in all types of sizes and shapes (literally and of course, figuratively!). There are those that are die-hards and are single minded. They come armed with snacks, water, medicines, books to read during those bald patches. They are there from 8 am to 10pm not getting distracted by the mere mortals and their noises. For them, food, wonderful canteen food it may be, is just sustenance for the body (and perhaps, mind, if they are being a bit generous!)



• There are those whose natural state is to be in constant motion between Sabhas, the inveterate sabha-hoppers! They seem to always feel that they need to be at some other concert when they are attending one concert. I have overheard several whispering to their tolerant better halves, " Aval ROMBA nalla paduvala! Ange poyi avaloda Thukkada kekkalama?" (I believe she sings very well. Shall we go and listen to post thani items?). They are for ever flitting from concert to concert like butterflies while doing worse than them in the bargain!



• And, then, there are those who talk more than they listen. They have apparently been veterans on the sabha circuit for the last 50 years ..generally, a number bigger than your age. They break into ecstasy of their own nostalgic recollections of yesteryear musicians. Typically, the conclusion is in favour of the yesteryear musicians. "Ayyo idenna Sankarabharanam! Anda avar inda alapanai rendu mani neram paduvar" (Oh! How great is this Sankarabharanam? That great musican used to sing this for 2 hours). When the ecstasy doubles, they even do a parallel concert for the benefit of their unfortunate neighbours.



• I am afraid that I become close friends sometimes with the "Find the Raga or perish!" types. We can lovingly call them buzzing bees. The moment the musician begins, they enter into a long and soporific humming phase. They won't give up until they land on the name of the raga in time. I feel like ending their agony by whispering the raga to them (unless I myself am buzzing!). There was one person who announced the name as 'Pashupatipriya' after a long bout of buzzing. I had to tell him politely, "Sir, it is Pahadi, by the artist's own admission".


• There are those folks who seem to spend more time outside the auditorium than inside - The casual wanderers. In case they are caught in their non-native state, actually enjoying the main composition, they shudder into normalcy and walk out crossing and stepping on the entire row full of listeners once the thani (tala solo) begins. Thani means a bio-break or a coffee break for these.
  

As you can see, Rasika demographics is a fertile area for further research.

Concert Humour:

• There are those who build the raga with their voices and hands. They are builders. There is a good dose of calisthenics and it all slowly culminates when they literally put a roof on top of it when they reach the thara panchamam (Pa in higher octave). It is an easy glide from there. Not recommended for acrophobiacs!


• Whoever said that alapana (raga elaboration) is supposed to employ Tha, Da, Ri and Na as the primary syllables. I have heard Rarra, lalla, Hummm, Vivvivvi, uhwwvonn (almost unspeakable) and it was the ultimate when I heard 'Thu Thu' (the sound associated with spitting). I am not a puritan, but, at the least, the guideline in a music concert should be aesthetics.


• Musicians can get lost (they are supposed to, aren't they?) during their performances. A good dose of thigh slapping and rocking around the center of gravity (Man, they rock!) in jerky gyrations are all amusing. I don't have an opinion on this...as long as they don't do a Michael Jackson!


• And, of course, there are numerous lyrical slips.


• I noticed the following in concerts. "Nada sudha Rasam Pilanu" (Nada Sudha Rasambilanu), "Pakkala Nila Padi" (Pakkala Nilabadi), "Valli Devasenobheda" (Valli Devasenopeta). They almost always lead to jarring and unintended set of meanings.


• I found these in the special supplements produced by The Hindu. You can tell that I literally devoured these during the breaks.


• "Bamamani Janaki Sowmitri" (Bhamamani ...) in Rama Katha (Madhyamavati); "Sarasooda" (Sarasuda) in Saveri; "Palukavemi Na Deivama" (....Daivama) in Purnachandrika; "Tharaloni ni saati" (Dharaloni...) in Mari Vere (Latangi); "Vadera Deyvamu" (...Daivamu) in Pantuvarali; "Soga Sukha" (Sogasuga) in Sriranjani; "Tharahasa mukham buruhe" (Darahasa...) in Sri Saraswati (Arabhi), "Vinaradana" (Vinarada Na) in Devagandhari. I wish more people refer to authentic texts before their public performance.
  

All in all, the music came through despite all the idiosyncrasies of the raskisas (listeners) and the musicians. Music has such ennobling qualities that it does come through, come what may..

- Krishnaprasad