SINGING FOR RAMANAVAMI

I never expected my calendar to be highlighted by festivals like Sivarathri and Rama Navami! Festivals I did not do much about, for they did not require much activity in the kitchen – unlike Sri Krishna Jayanthi and Vinayaka Chathurthi. Both these festivals meant a lot of work preparing the special offerings (‘neivedhyam’) to Krishna or Vinayakar.

But how much work is really required to make ‘paanagam’ ( jaggery dissolved in water, and flavoured with crushed cardamom and dried ginger powder), ‘neer moru’ (salted buttermilk with curry leaves and crushed asafoetida) to offer Sri Rama! Or observe a fast for Siva!

This year however these two events marked a special – our group Gangamritham singing at temples.


Last week on Rama Navami, April 3, we sang at the Raja Annamalaipuram Karpaga Vinayaka Temple. The temple is well maintained and an aura of sanctity pervades it. There are other deities here apart from Sri Siddhi Buddhi Samedha Sri Karpaga Vinayakar. We were able to witness the abhishekam and evening pooja at all the sannidhis before starting to sing.

Our guru Ganga had taught us a good collection of songs on Rama. She had also painstakingly taught us verses from Tulsidas’s Sri Rama Charita Manas, set to music by her guru, which encapsulated the Ramayana, in different raagams and thaalams. This was to be the highlight.

For the first time, we had a proper stage (albeit small) to sit on and sing. We were introduced individually! (See picture) And we had a bigger audience than usual, all seated comfortably on chairs (this included my mother, my sister-in-law and my recalcitrant husband, who shocked my friends by putting in an appearance). The audience was appreciative, applauding at the end of each song. Our accompanists for the day were Harini on the violin and Umayalpuram Kalyanasundaram on the mridangam. We missed Vidya and Padmini - two of our group who could not make it.

Since a couple of my regular reader friends had requested me for a recording, here is a very brief one. I requested a friend to take the video on the camera.

The picture is not good, you tell me how it sounds.

MARGAZHI RAAGAM

There is no other way to listen to a music concert, I have concluded.

The experience was so satisfying – in a darkened theatre, with the artistes pleasingly larger than life and the sound, glorious sound, pouring from all parts of the theatre in stereophonic splendour, excluding all other noises.

We had been invited to a special show of ‘Margazhi Raagam’ a film which was a presentation of a music concert by two big names in the Carnatic music firmament – Bombay Jayashri and T. M. Krishna. The show had been organized by Thejus Chandrasekhar in honour and memory of his mother, D. Patammal, who had composed more than 650 songs in Thamizh, in all the ragas of the 72 Melakarthas, and then some more.

Margazhi (December 15 to January 15) is the Thamizh month devoted to the Gods (and music in Chennai), and Raagam means melody.

It was intriguing. It was a film, and it was a music concert, said the notices. That the singers are two of the best today led to a high level of expectation, but I was not sure what to expect. The two artistes had presented live concerts together recently, and there had been conflicting reports on that.

The show was in the Sathyam theatre complex, and before the picture started, there was some western music in the background – which was not at all the right setting for a Carnatic concert. And the lights were dim, unlike at the halls where the concerts are held live, where they burn bright and are never dimmed. And I felt some trepidation.

But as the theatre darkened completely, and the credits came on the atmosphere was set. A dark auditorium can hold one enthralled as nothing else. All your concentration is on the one visible place of light. Here our senses were drawn to the screen to the exclusion of everything else. And when the music started, what bliss! Such pure sound, without any disruptions caused by faulty mikes or rude rasikas, who enter and leave auditoriums at will. It flowed from all sides, and it was divine. The aural quality was matched by the atmosphere of sanctity captured by P. C. Sriram’s camera.

The first song was by Jayashri, and her soothing voice and serene manner were captured delightfully by the sound engineer H. Sridhar (who died recently, and to whom the picture is dedicated) and cameraman Sriram. She sang two more pieces, and the final line of the 'raagam khamas' was picked up by Krishna after an interlude by the two percussionists.

Krishna’s entry was smooth. I had seen only one percussionist accompanying Jayashri and wondered where the other one had come from. He was Krishna’s accompanist! Krishna’s style was in direct contrast to hers, full of flamboyance and vigour, waking up the senses which had been lulled by Jayashri’s soothing voice.
After a couple of pieces by Krishna, the two sang together - in great harmony and perfectly complementing one another.

The final piece with just the tampura was a revelation. As was the whole experience.

Do read Ardra Vamshi's experience here.