Persona and Personal

It may sound preposterous, absurd, laughable and even silly to people who know me well, but I cannot not make this statement:

When I listen to some of the songs, I sometimes tend to associate the actors who lip synched the song.

Coming as it does from a person who very recently made a statement in another forum that when he listens to Raaja songs, he sees only Raaja, this comes as a surprise even to me. In fact, whenever people mentioned ‘MGR songs’, ‘Sivaji songs’, ‘Rajini songs’ , ‘Kamal songs’, I never hid my amusement and I would even shoot back asking if it was these people who composed the songs and recorded the songs. But I realised last week that yes, even I tend to relate some particular songs with the actors, but let me tell you that these are just a select few and that this happens only at times.

Why last week?

It is because I read about the sudden demise of an actor(cum director) called Pratap Pothen. The moment I saw that, the image that flashed across my mind was the one with the actor carrying the guitar on his shoulders. As a corollary, multiple images came rushing through- him sitting with the guitar in Ooty even as the girl opposite to him was ill at ease, him playing the guitar to a group of urchins in a village, him sitting yet again in Ooty and sounding the guitar in a school excursion even as students watch him with awe…

People familiar with these sequences, know the songs that go along with those. The images are striking though. Are these because of Guitar? Are these because of the way the music gelled with the sequences? Or are these simply because the actor did full justice to the songs with his expressions and demeanour?

Well, this post is not so much about the acting skills of that gentleman as it is about the way he portrayed the characters giving respect to the music being played in the background. One cannot brush this aside as mere perception and this fact will be known if the sequences are watched thoroughly.

The fact of the matter is Pratap was one of the few actors in Tamizh cinema who was well-read, well-informed and who had a great sense of appreciation for music. The last one was confirmed about 5 years ago when I saw him in the audience at the Music Academy in one of the afternoon concerts during the December season. But apart from this fact, he was a huge Raaja fan. Given an opportunity, he has never failed to mention about the music of ILaiyaraaja and how his music helped him in the movies he directed. For that matter, when the ‘Royalty’ issue was at its peak with canards being spread against the Maestro by netizens who never understood the concept of copyright, Pratap mentioned in an interview as to how he did his first film as a director -Meendum oru kaadal kadai- for free.

As a tribute to this actor who was a connoisseur of sorts, let us look at a song in which he appeared without his trademark guitar.

The moment someone mentions ‘Nenjaththai KiLLade’, people will instantly remember either ‘Paruvame’ or ‘Uravenum’. There are two more songs of course, but the song under discussion today is unique and relevant. Relevant because it carries that sense of poignancy and unique because of the way it was composed.

Though one knows this composer as somebody who blends all major forms with consummate ease producing some classic compositions, each time he does that and each time when we listen to them we feel awe struck at the uniqueness. ‘Ye Thendrale’ is yet another example of this.

There is harmony, there is western classical, there is jazz..But above all there is ‘Raaja’.

Starting with two sets of chorus singing in two different octaves simultaneously with the electric guitar responding briefly, the prelude haunts us not least because of the chorus voice and the strings and some special sounds that follow.

The Pallavi in the voice of Suseela is melancholic to say the least, with even the bass guitar and the subtle piano keys sounding mournful. Coming to think of it even the percussion in the 6-beat cycle sounds wistful even as it plays ta ka dhi mi/ta ka.

The first interlude is a veritable treat in WCM, though briefly. The strings play in the beginning and towards the end and what is special about this is the bass sound from Cello, which accentuates the feeling of piteousness. Needless to say, these string sections sound sans percussion. Sandwiched between the two string sections is the electric guitar which whorls like gusty wind with the bass guitar and percussion backing it with a purpose.

The lines in the CharaNams are followed by the chorus and just towards the end-that is in the last line- when the chorus hums, it seems like a plaintive cry of a bird which had lost its partner in the woods and keeps looking for it.

The second interlude is yet again dominated by the strings and this domination is enjoyable indeed. The strings sound a melody. The brass flute along with a bevy of instruments respond twice, each time with a difference. This happens twice after which the strings are followed by the bells and the guitar. As the melody keeps encircling us, the brass flute plays a wistful melody. The pizzicato on the violin which follows and which keeps repeating the melody, the melody from the brass flute and the strings – all without percussion- seem as if there is a search for something hidden deep inside. It culminates in the chorus and the strings joining together and giving images which are rather indecipherable.

At times why and how we get certain images cannot be deciphered nor can it be explained. It just has to be felt!

 

 

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