The second edition of Svanubhava began on a subdued note and picked up momentum
as the events followed one another. As last year, the events were held at
Kalakshetra, the Tamil Nadu Govt. Music College and the Music Academy. An
average of 800 students attended every day, apart from around 50 to 100
senior artists and art enthusiasts.
With T.M. Krishna and Bombay Jayashri directing them from behind the scenes,
a team of youngsters including YACM members and students of the three participating
institutions conducted the festival in a well organised manner. Krishna
infused zest every time he picked up the mike, his banter creating an instant
rapport with the student audience.
The first session every morning and immediately after lunch featured group
presentations. Much thought and effort had evidently gone into the innovative
and well executed sessions.
BHUPEN HAZARIKA
Bard of the Brahmaputra - MITRA
PHUKAN
Dr. Bhupen Hazarika, a renowned poet, music composer, singer, actor,
journalist, author and film-maker, is a cultural icon in north-eastern
India. This multifaceted genius turned 84 on 8th September. He was recently
made a Fellow of the Central Sangeet Natak Akademi and presented the
Akademi Ratna. In February, a statue of Bhupen Hazarika (see photo)
by famous Assamese sculptor Biren Sinha was unveiled in Assam in recognition
of his seminal contribution to Indian culture, music in particular.
The Bard of the Brahmaputra. The Minstrel of the Masses. The Voice of
the Voiceless. Dr. Bhupen Hazarika's songs are hummed across the length
and breadth of the country; his melodies have become part of the country’s
treasure.
There is a uniqueness to the music of the valley of the Brahmaputra.
It comes from its geographical location, the region's history of migration.
The melodies of the Indian subcontinent and those of the Far East meet
and mingle in the songs of the valley. Bhupen Hazarika’s melodic sensibility
is firmly rooted in this land. He has taken the music out of the region,
and showcased its beauty before the world. And while doing so, he has
succeeded in heralding a revival of several musical forms on the verge
of dying out for lack of patronage. He roamed the Bihu toli-s of the
land with his harmonium, accompanied by tabla and guitar alone. He went
to the areas where they were practiced by a few, and gave them a new
lease of life through his movies, records and live shows.
Yet Hazarika is a musician of the world. He has not confined his music
to the melodies of his land. As the occasion and lyrical content of
the song have demanded, he has moved effortlessly to raga-s (as for
instance in Snehey amaar xotosrabonor based on Megh), and melodies more
recognisably sub continental, though the tunes based on the folk tunes
of Assam in his Hindi songs have never failed to engage listeners. On
various occasions, as notably in Bistirno parore (reminiscent of Old
Man River), when the spirit of the song demanded it, he has been inspired
by Western tunes as well. His lyric and tune meld seamlessly, to provide
the perfect end product. Though he has worked in both Bangla, and to
a lesser degree in Hindi, the majority of his songs and other works
have been in Assamese, but he has become "Bhupenda" now to all Indians.
The centre appropriately named Sampradaya was inspired by the musical
integrity and genuine affection of H. Ramachandra Shastry (my own teacher)
and Savithri Rajan (the teacher of my associate, Michael Nixon). Neither
is with us anymore, but happily both lived to a ripe old age and remained
devoted teachers all their lives. Their memories are therefore vivid
and precious even today. This has to do with their strong personalities
and a boundless generosity that enabled them to make lasting contributions
to the lives of all who came in contact with them. They shared everything
they had acquired in terms of music, wisdom, humour, and especially
the right contacts in the world of Carnatic music: the musicians, scholars
and teachers without whom Sampradaya would not have grown and acquired
the national and international reputation it enjoys today - neither
in the sense of "great musical traditions", nor in the form of a modern
music centre dedicated to such music. Both teachers were living encyclopedias
of Carnatic music and enlightened us about the many personalities, past
and living who had shaped this music and endowed it with such grace,
depth, vigour, and enduring appeal.
"Are you mad?" asked a member of the Anjaneya Temple Festival Committee.
"Is there a shortage of musicians here? There are so many even between
Kumbakonam and Pudukottai. For ten rupees, we can listen to Maharajapuram
Viswanatha Iyer or Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar all night long. Has the
prestige of Tanjavur fallen so low that we need to import a singer from
the talkies from Madras?"
Tanneertotti Venkatarama Iyer was not easily defeated. "Mahalingam Pillaival!"
he retorted. "I have been pleading with you for two years now. I drink
the same Kaveri water you drink. Perhaps my smattering of knowledge
of music has kept me in the committee all these years, menial though
my task may be. Let's invite him just once." Venkatarama Iyer was rudely
interrupted by his colleagues on the committee.
(Translated by V. Ramnarayan from Isaiulaga
Ilavarasar GNB a biography in Tamil by LALITHA RAM and published by Vikatan Publications).
Like a good opening batsman, Sampradaya played out the first session
of its new series Samvada without losing a wicket.
The opening batsman of the first test was the Jack Hobbs of Carnatic
music. R.K. Srikantan, a master of deliveries ] to leave, middled
those he chose to play. He was cheerfully evasive when asked to
name the best musicians of Mysore he had heard and speak of his
lineage and the Rudrapatnam tradition.
The bowler, Chitraveena Ravikiran, the Sachin Tendulkar of Carnatic
music, showed he was only a part-time bowler who was too polite
to bounce at such a veteran batsman.
USTAD ALI AKBAR KHAN
Tearful Homage to a Son of the Soil
- MEENA BANERJEE
When Kolkata paid tributes to the late sarod maestro Ali Akbar Khan
at the Vivekananda Hall of the Ramakrishna Mission Institute of Culture
(Golpark) (where he loved to offer his music); at the Old Ballygunge
Road residence of Mukherjees (where he first went as a boy with his
father Baba Alauddin Khan); and under the aegis of the State Music Academy
and the Department of Culture, West Bengal the image of his disarmingly
simple soul overshadowed the wizard of sarod. Hailed by Yehudi Menuhin
as ‘the greatest musician of the world’, he was the first Indian classical
musician to be presented in America through a major concert tour in
1955 and cut LP records there (Sindh Bhairavi/ Misra Piloo). The first
Indian to be nominated for Grammy Awards (1970), he composed haunting
music for several films including Satyajit Ray's Devi, Tapan Sinha's
Kshudhito Pashan, Chetan Anand’s Aandhiyan, Merchant Ivory's The Householders,
Bernardo Bertolucci’s Little Buddha to name a few, and was decorated
with the Padma Vibhushan.
His list of achieve-ments could not distance him from his people and
his 'home'. It is no secret that he loved to be in Kolkata, with its
zoo and puchka (a meagre pani-puri) and its music-loving people. Despite
his worldwide fame, he maintained his relationship with the Mukherjees.
His father gave a memorable recital at the wedding of Saradindu Mukherjee's
eldest son, simply because he loved to meet his old associates while
in the city. I remember how he spent a whole day (January 2003) at Sree
Satyananda Devayatan, Jadavpur and wistfully remembered his recitals
at Baranagar before Sree Thakur Satyananda. That day he recounted his
family history to all of us present there. The nostalgic narration revolved
around his 'Baba' and music - his ultimate desire and destination, while
he hardly spoke of himself.
Alex Ross's essay (Sruti 299) on concert etiquette was revealing. We
learn that over two centuries ago, the Paris audience was no better,
if not worse, than today's Chennai rasika-s ! So there is hope, maybe
in 200 years.
When I went to England (Leeds) for the first time in 1947, I attended
a concert (Bach) soon after arrival. Everyone was in place, there was
total silence, stillness in the air, not even nodding of heads. I even
wondered whether the music went over the audience’s heads; probably
they were there only to pass off as highbrow. Used to the unstoppable
chatter, visible appreciation and the general fish-market scenario at
Rasika Ranjani Sabha kutcheri-s, it was a novel experience for me. A
few days later when I met the Music Professor at the University refectory,
I told him of my experience. He first laughed and said that he had visited
India and was familiar with the restive audience, who seem to do everything
except conduct business in the hall. Only at the Bombay Madrigal Society
(where Mehli Mehta, father of Zubin, was the Director), was there a
serious concert atmosphere. He also said that in the West things are
overdone a bit. As for himself, when he conducts, his concentration
is so complete that even a tornado raging at the back of the auditorium
would not disturb him or his orchestra. But movement of people inside
the hall was another matter.
M.S. Subbulakshmi was born on 16th September 1916. This month, on the
occasion of Subbulakshmi's 93rd birth anniversary, we reproduce another
excerpt from the book MS & Radha: Saga of Steadfast Devotion written
by GOWRI RAMNARAYAN and published by The Suswaralakshmi Foundation
for Carnatic Music and Performing Arts.
Making a mark
A new chapter unfolded for Kunjamma when she began to accompany her
mother in concerts. Soon the concert billing changed to vocal music
by Miss Subbulakshmi of Madura accompanied by Miss Veenai Shanmukhavadivoo.
The diary entry of a listener described one such recital in February
1929, at the Malaikottai temple's hundred-pillared mandapam in Tiruchi.
The audience was initially disappointed to see Madurai Shanmukhavadivu
instead of Tiruchendur Shanmukhavadivu whom they had expected. As some
of them buttonholed the secretary of the sabha and started complaining
that he should have advertised the right name, Shanmukhavadivu asked
the girl in pavadai-chettai and long plait, sitting a little behind
her, to move forward. When the girl finished her first kriti, the mandapam
echoed with applause and enthusiastic cries of Sabaash! At the insistence
of the rasika-s the secretary announced the girl’s name as 'Kumari M.S.
Subbulakshmi, none other than the daughter of Shanmukhavadivu Ammal'.
The rest of the concert was hers. A Muslim listener got up and raced
down the steep steps of the hillock, only to clamber back before the
concert ended, to place his gift, a gold medal that he had hurriedly
purchased, in the hands of the young girl.
Mining the Internet's Carnatic music resources and databases, I came
across a curious recording of one of Mali's speeches at a concert in
Bangalore. After announcing his retirement early in the speech, he proceeds
to tell the audience that he became a musician by accident. Until then,
he had been performing only out of necessity. He then says that when
he feels like playing, he will let people know, and that they can come
and listen to him. "Free of cost," he adds, and ends his speech with
an emphatic, "I've had enough. Saakaithu!"
Indian classical music is a personal art. While an artist can (and often
does) produce music mechanically, it is only when she looks within herself
and withdraws from the world around her that she produces something
truly special. In other words, you might sing a really good Bhairavi
by using standard phrases and keeping the typical outline in mind and
play around with swara-s and patterns. But if the Bhairavi has to be
exceptional, you need to lose yourself in its vastness, understand each
swara, explore each gamaka, delve into the mysteries of its two dhaivata-s,
revel in the magic of that unbound, floating nishada.
Twenty six-year old R. Sankaranarayanan, a talented mridangist, is the
son of R. Ramani Bhagavatar, grandson of Papanasam Rajagopala Iyer -
elder brother of Papanasam Sivan. Pozhichalur, a sleepy village near
Pallavaram, a Chennai suburb, was a beehive of nama sankeertanam activities
where more than a dozen famous bhagavatar-s would congregate frequently
for long nama sankeertanam sessions. Sankaranarayanan was born in this
village, in a house reverberating with devotional music. Initiation
into bhajan-s when he was only three years old helped the boy develop
purity of kalapramana, so essential in concerts.
sruti.com
The second edition of Svanubhava began on a subdued note and picked up momentum
as the events followed one another. As last year, the events were held at
Kalakshetra, the Tamil Nadu Govt. Music College and the Music Academy. An
average of 800 students attended every day, apart from around 50 to 100
senior artists and art enthusiasts. 
Dr. Bhupen Hazarika, a renowned poet, music composer, singer, actor,
journalist, author and film-maker, is a cultural icon in north-eastern
India. This multifaceted genius turned 84 on 8th September. He was recently
made a Fellow of the Central Sangeet Natak Akademi and presented the
Akademi Ratna. In February, a statue of Bhupen Hazarika (see photo)
by famous Assamese sculptor Biren Sinha was unveiled in Assam in recognition
of his seminal contribution to Indian culture, music in particular.
There is a uniqueness to the music of the valley of the Brahmaputra.
It comes from its geographical location, the region's history of migration.
The melodies of the Indian subcontinent and those of the Far East meet
and mingle in the songs of the valley. Bhupen Hazarika’s melodic sensibility
is firmly rooted in this land. He has taken the music out of the region,
and showcased its beauty before the world. And while doing so, he has
succeeded in heralding a revival of several musical forms on the verge
of dying out for lack of patronage. He roamed the Bihu toli-s of the
land with his harmonium, accompanied by tabla and guitar alone. He went
to the areas where they were practiced by a few, and gave them a new
lease of life through his movies, records and live shows. 
Yet Hazarika is a musician of the world. He has not confined his music
to the melodies of his land. As the occasion and lyrical content of
the song have demanded, he has moved effortlessly to raga-s (as for
instance in Snehey amaar xotosrabonor based on Megh), and melodies more
recognisably sub continental, though the tunes based on the folk tunes
of Assam in his Hindi songs have never failed to engage listeners. On
various occasions, as notably in Bistirno parore (reminiscent of Old
Man River), when the spirit of the song demanded it, he has been inspired
by Western tunes as well. His lyric and tune meld seamlessly, to provide
the perfect end product. Though he has worked in both Bangla, and to
a lesser degree in Hindi, the majority of his songs and other works
have been in Assamese, but he has become "Bhupenda" now to all Indians.
The centre appropriately named Sampradaya was inspired by the musical
integrity and genuine affection of H. Ramachandra Shastry (my own teacher)
and Savithri Rajan (the teacher of my associate, Michael Nixon). Neither
is with us anymore, but happily both lived to a ripe old age and remained
devoted teachers all their lives. Their memories are therefore vivid
and precious even today. This has to do with their strong personalities
and a boundless generosity that enabled them to make lasting contributions
to the lives of all who came in contact with them. They shared everything
they had acquired in terms of music, wisdom, humour, and especially
the right contacts in the world of Carnatic music: the musicians, scholars
and teachers without whom Sampradaya would not have grown and acquired
the national and international reputation it enjoys today - neither
in the sense of "great musical traditions", nor in the form of a modern
music centre dedicated to such music. Both teachers were living encyclopedias
of Carnatic music and enlightened us about the many personalities, past
and living who had shaped this music and endowed it with such grace,
depth, vigour, and enduring appeal. 
"Are you mad?" asked a member of the Anjaneya Temple Festival Committee.
"Is there a shortage of musicians here? There are so many even between
Kumbakonam and Pudukottai. For ten rupees, we can listen to Maharajapuram
Viswanatha Iyer or Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar all night long. Has the
prestige of Tanjavur fallen so low that we need to import a singer from
the talkies from Madras?" 
Like a good opening batsman, Sampradaya played out the first session
of its new series Samvada without losing a wicket. 
When Kolkata paid tributes to the late sarod maestro Ali Akbar Khan
at the Vivekananda Hall of the Ramakrishna Mission Institute of Culture
(Golpark) (where he loved to offer his music); at the Old Ballygunge
Road residence of Mukherjees (where he first went as a boy with his
father Baba Alauddin Khan); and under the aegis of the State Music Academy
and the Department of Culture, West Bengal the image of his disarmingly
simple soul overshadowed the wizard of sarod. Hailed by Yehudi Menuhin
as ‘the greatest musician of the world’, he was the first Indian classical
musician to be presented in America through a major concert tour in
1955 and cut LP records there (Sindh Bhairavi/ Misra Piloo). The first
Indian to be nominated for Grammy Awards (1970), he composed haunting
music for several films including Satyajit Ray's Devi, Tapan Sinha's
Kshudhito Pashan, Chetan Anand’s Aandhiyan, Merchant Ivory's The Householders,
Bernardo Bertolucci’s Little Buddha to name a few, and was decorated
with the Padma Vibhushan. 
M.S. Subbulakshmi was born on 16th September 1916. This month, on the
occasion of Subbulakshmi's 93rd birth anniversary, we reproduce another
excerpt from the book MS & Radha: Saga of Steadfast Devotion written
by GOWRI RAMNARAYAN and published by The Suswaralakshmi Foundation
for Carnatic Music and Performing Arts. 
Mining the Internet's Carnatic music resources and databases, I came
across a curious recording of one of Mali's speeches at a concert in
Bangalore. After announcing his retirement early in the speech, he proceeds
to tell the audience that he became a musician by accident. Until then,
he had been performing only out of necessity. He then says that when
he feels like playing, he will let people know, and that they can come
and listen to him. "Free of cost," he adds, and ends his speech with
an emphatic, "I've had enough. Saakaithu!"