30 posts tagged “art”

Trinity

December is an engaging month in our household.  Partly because for more than half of the month, the kid returns home early, and the remaining hours of the day are spent driving everyone crazy.  "Nice" crazy, not "crazy" crazy.  But more because the music season is in full form.  While this year seems a little more subdued than last, thanks to the un-seasonal rains, we managed to squeeze in a few concerts so far.  Having influential parents on both sides helps, since we have passes from them to attend concerts in two leading sabhas in the city - the Music Academy and Mylapore Fine Arts. Dude, as ever, is very methodical about it (as with everything else), and has a detailed time table worked out, and I am sure in due course he will post reviews at his blog.  I won't have the time or patience to sit through all the concerts on his list, but I am sure I will attend more concerts than last time.

Much before the "season" began, an impulsive dude, dragged me kicking and screaming, one Saturday evening to a concert at Krishna Gana Sabha by somoene I have never heard of - Senthangudi Jayaraman.  According the "Entertainment" section of the Hindu, the theme of the concert was "Sharavanabhava".  I grumbled about the price we were paying for the tickets to a concert, which, in all probability, we would walk out in five minutes, for it would be an old man singing bajanais off-key.  It has been more than two months since I attended that concert, and I don't even remember what he sang. All I remember is that I sat through, tears streaming from my eyes, completely mesmerised.  There was nothing spectacular about the concert - none of the vocal acrobatics please.   What it had was a "wholesomeness" that modern concerts seem to sadly lack.  The creativity of the artist arose from complete grasp of music and there was no need to divert attention through cheap tricks and gimmickery. There were a total of 20 people among the audience, but I believe that the 20 people were indeed a blessed lot to have been there that evening.   Years ago, my blind grandfather  would listen to the radio with his eyes closed and bliss written all over, as Ariyakudi, Semmangudi or Madurai Mani Iyer filled the room.  I got an idea of what that bliss must have been on that day . Dude gave me the "this-is-why-you-should-always-trust-me" look at the end of the concert, a look that I rightfully deserved.

We attended Sri Ravikiran's concert the weekend before last at Nungambakkam Cultural Academy.    A great way to start the season.  Fellow has magic in his fingers.  You'd almost expect the Chitra Veenai to melt into a puddle halfway through the concert. I think that if Ravikiran has to play out of tune or make a talam mistake to save his life, he won't be able to.  Music seems instinctive to him, like breathing.

Last weekend, we attended Sanjay Subramaniam, also at NCA. I had waxed eloquent about Sanjay's concert last year.  This year, I walked out of the concert soon after the sub-main piece in Purvi Kalyani with a splitting headache, not caused by the carbon dioxide in the closed auditorium.  At the risk of getting hate mails and death threats from hard-core Sanjay-fan trolls, I hope that this concert was an exception to the rule and not a new trend.

Sunday saw me at a concert which I was specially invited to, because the singer's wife and I happened to share a few ancestors.  The singer held his tune well, maintained good talam, and well, is related to me.

I have often heard my grandparents use the idiom "Vengala mani Kural", (voice like a bronze bell), Had I heard Smt. Vasundhara Rajagopal then, I would have known exactly what they meant.  I first heard her a few months back in her pet project with Sri Vellukudi Krishnan - Pasurappadi Ramayanam. The lady has the clearest voice I have heard yet.  The risk with such clear voices is that if the singer made even the faintest mistake, it would sound like finger-nail on black board.  Vasundhara Rajagopal, I have begun to believe, is simply incapable of making the faintest mistake. Her flawless voice, coupled with her intricate knowledge of the nuances of Carnatic music, make her concerts a pleasure to listen to.  I could not stay through the entire concert because I had to pick up junior from school, but her Saveri after which I left, rang in my ears for hours afterwards making any kind of logical activity impossible.  As I think back about Smt. Vasundara Rajagopal's concert, one word stands out more than anything else  - STYLE.

I confess that it is nothing short of arrogance for me, who has had the most insincere and indisciplined approach to her own music, to even attempt to comment or criticise professional singers who have practically dedicated their life and soul to their passion.  This however, is the "have blog, will write" era and I make full (mis)use of it. Perhaps I will write more about this season, perhaps call it quits at this point. Let's see.

எந்தரோ மஹானுபாவுலு.  அந்தரிகி வந்தனமு.
 

Carnatic_music

Yesterday, after nearly three months of getting acquainted with the tip of the iceberg of "Naalaayira Divya Prabandam" set to music, I accompanied my Guru in a stage performance.  No matter that I only knew six of the twenty six paasurams she sang...still, a performance is a performance, what?

I started music lessons when I was in kindergarten.  The music class was held in a car-shed  that was generously donated by a gentleman who had sold his car.  The teacher, whose name I didn't know, was a thousand years old.  He wore the vibuthi pattai on his forehead and carried with him a silver box of beetel leaves and associated laagiris, that he would periodically stuff into his mouth.  I was the youngest of the herd and was never even given a passing glance.  Usually, by the time the sarali varisais were done, I would be fast asleep on the torn jamakkaalam, and my grandmother would carry me back home. 

Although 5 is too young an age to remember anything, I surprise myself by remembering interesting data from my first paatu class. For example, there were three sisters   - Kanaka, Durga and Malathi. Of which, Malathi, who was four years my senior was considered a protoge, since she could already sing gamakams and brihas.  I believe the old man had high hopes on this girl, but as of now, I don't know of a Malathi in the Indian Carnatic Music jungle. Perhaps she got married to an NRI and lives in Canada or Australia, with music long forgotten.  There was another much older "akka" called Uma, who asked the teacher to teach her something special to be sung to the bridegroom's party as they came to "see" her.  And the teacher taught her (and us in the process), "Kaamakshi, kaamakoti peeda vaasini" in Simmendhra madhyamam. I was in UKG then, but I remember that song today.  I don't remember where I put the shopping list an hour ago.

I stopped going to this class in a couple of years because much of my formative years were spent shuttling between Triplicane and T.Nagar.  During my tween years, we shifted permanently to T.Nagar, and that was when my music lessons took a more serious turn, and consequently became a chore for me.  That is probably why I am very wary about getting my kid to join a formal music class yet. Sri Vaidhyanathan, a strict task master, may his soul rest in peace, would teach me one-on-one in my blind grandfather's room - my grandfather loved music and was particularly thrilled to hear his only grand daughter sing.

Sri Vaidyanathan laid a heavy duty foundation and refused to let me proceed to songs until all sarali varisais, jantai varisais and 35 alankarams were hardwired into my system. I must have been one of the rare kids that even knew that there were 35, and not just seven, alankarams, let alone being able to sing all of them.  Considering what a dedicated teacher he was, and that I was blessed with a melodious voice, I could have enjoyed the process. However the enormous pressure from home to perform and the odd hours that the Guru would turn up - at 9 PM just when I would be nodding off - made me hate the whole concept of music class.  Peer pressure that my friends, who did not sing as well as I did, proceeded in their respective classes to ada-thaala-varnams and keerthanais, while I was still plodding along with jathiswarams and swarajathis demorlaized me.

And then my mother fell seriously ill.  I begged my folks to take me off the paatu class and given the stress everyone was under, it wasn't too hard to give in to me. Five years were spent struggling with an ailing mom, mourning her death and facing public exams that music was retreated into the dark recess of somewhere.

Once the dust of public exams settled, my mind slowly moved back to music. More to find solace from the wild, weird world of college I was thrown into. This time, I joined Sri B.V. Raman (may he R.I.P too), of the popular Raman-Lakshmanan duo.  I enjoyed three years of music lessons with him immensely.  I learned many many varnams and keerthanams, which, sadly, I did not write down because BVR believed that the moment you wrote down the songs, the compulsion to learn them by-heart is lost.  He may have been right, but two decades from then, I don't remember these songs, and I don't have them written down as well - double darn !

And then academics took over again. That was pretty much the end of formal structured music lessons. I did visit Sri BVR now and then when I returned home on holidays to brush up on music. I even gave radio performances on the youth section a few times.  But my own insincerety and laziness took me away from a natural talent.  My aversion to public display of myself was another reason.  People who heard me sing pressurized me to perform to a bigger audience, and although I did sing well, I didn't believe I had the skill to take my music to the next level.  Although these days I am beginning to doubt that since some so-called "popular" singers seem to have no more skill than I did at that point.  But then, no excuses for my own lack of sincerety of purpose.

Now my music is restricted to teaching a bunch of kids and more recently my Prabandam class.  Yesterday's performance made me realise something though.  I love to sing my daughter to sleep. I love teaching the neighbourhood kids.  I don't mind singing at someone's kolu. However, hand me a mike and a group of people watching my face, my voice gives up on me.  I am not sure if my Prabandam Guru would like agree to teach me if I say this, because she was banking on my vocal support to her programmes.  I find the spirituatlity of the whole thing lost when I "perform".

Such is my sound of music.

Have been doing small reverse glass paintings on and off, and gifting them to friends of yore who have been visiting motherland from all over the world, thereby inflicting pain world wide.  After a long time, I made a big one. The Alilai Krishnan came out quite well.  The color combination was fine and the double frame gives it a rich look - which it rightfully deserves, after the pretty penny it cost to frame it.  I have done a similar painting - smaller size, some time back.  The details are clearer in the larger one, obviously, and it took more time and care to paint.

It goes to a friend's son who gets married next week. 

Alilai Krish 1

Alilai Krish 2

1 comment

Photo courtesy - dude.  You didn't honestly believe I was capable of taking such a clear picture without glare, did you?

The M-i-l now has a new hobby that, if left unchecked, is likely to spread into the son's household. Jewelery making.  If I were the kind that wears jewelry, I'd not leave her in peace until I have one for every saree I own (which is about four right now, but if I were the kind that wears jewelery, logic has it that I would have more than four sarees ). She buys "Kundan" stones at her local pet shop and designs necklaces such as these:

Red & Orange

3 comments

Some more artwork from the mater:

Emboss 2

Iskon Krish

Killer mouth ulcers precluding any form of oral communication.  5-year old darling needs to be entertained.  Visit the local store of art supplies, mime to the shopkeeper to give little knick-knacks and brick-bracks, dismantle some old, rusted bracelets and voila...

Bead necklace

Never mind that the pain in the mouth spread to the back trying to knead the beads into the slipperiest nylon thread.  At least the tribal woman is happy.

Little V and I made this holder-of-sorts from a commonly available household item.  See if you can guess what we made it with. This holder may be used to hold calling cards, or pens or flash drive...anything small, spoons..note pad....sticky notes.....recipe cards.

Pen holder

Pen stand

Card holder

Flash drive holder

Here is a side view of the stand, see if you can guess it.

Holder side view

Will the rear view help you guess ?

Rear view