Showing posts with label Charukesi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charukesi. Show all posts

Sunday, 21 June 2020

MaarkaNdeya


The universality of Music is too well known and appreciated to be explained again. Yet I write about it again as the topic is more on paper than in practice. What is surprising is that even within our country proponents of the two major classical forms vie with one another to plead ignorance about the other form despite the obvious similarities.

This is where the film music plays a major role in terms of dispelling the ignorance of a majority. Since it is not necessary for a composition in film music to follow a particular grammar, one gets to listen to a mélange of forms in a matter of less than 5 minutes. But let me hasten to add that I am talking about composers who know the real value of each form and are equally knowledgeable about the respective forms.

As we all know, ILaiyaraaja is adept in integrating many forms not just because he loves all forms but also because he knows the intricacies of each form. So, what we get to hear is a synthesis with each form coalescing with the other. But what makes him great is the way the forms mingle without in any way affecting the melody. It in fact enhances the melody.

Take ‘SiRiya PaRavai SiRagai Viriththu PaRakkirathe’ from ‘Andha Oru Nimidam’(1985). The entire song follows the Charukesi scale. If we delve further into this raga/scale, we will know that the Indian melody Charukesi has been in existence in Western Classical form as Melodic Major since time immemorial.

The prelude is entirely in Melodic Major with the keys and the subtle bass guitar sounding a repeat melody which is repeated by the guitar and then by the strings in the higher octave, followed by the brass flute. Note the absence of the percussion here though it does follow a time signature. More on this rhythmic aspect, a little later..
Charukesi is present in the Arabic system as well and this gets reflected in the first half of the first interlude.

We get to see the Carnatic Charukesi in the first interlude with the chorus singing the swaras followed by the flute first and the veena later. Note that the second CharaNam is different from that of the first and the third.
Melodic Major returns in the third interlude with the first half sounding jazzy and the second half symphonic..

The starting music in the prelude, the Pallavi and the beats follow
1 2 3/ 1 2 3/ 1 2 3/ 1 2 3/ 1 2 3 4- with 4 subdivided into 16.

Does it indicate something?

It does, to me...



Friday, 13 July 2018

Sempiternal


A couple of years ago, the refrigerator at home started misbehaving. I called the Service Department who first asked me the model number. I went near the fridge, bent my neck, strained my back, noted down the number and read it out on the phone. The Engineer at the other end said ‘ Sir, this is 10 years old and therefore we don’t have the spare part. In fact, we stopped manufacturing the spares for this 5 years back’. I was flabbergasted and asked him the way out. His reply was simple. ‘It will work on its own if it is switched off for some time.’  What if it doesn’t? A giggle from that side which meant ‘You idiot. Go in for a new one’.

Which in effect means that the product was made to last just for 5 years and not a single day more. If it did last, we should thank our stars.

Does this apply just to one product? Look at the new versions of smart phones that come out in the market almost every month.  Look at the new editions of cars. Look at the TVs. Look at the computer system. Look at any consumer product you have at home. When was the last time you bought that and when do you think you will get a ‘new version’ or a ‘new edition’?

Contrast this with the things you had at home during your childhood and in your teens. How many times were new ones acquired in lieu of the old ones?
 Hardly a few…

Hope you all remember the Ambassador- the ubiquitous car seen on the road at least until 2014- which lasted 20,30,40 or even 50 years.

In fact, very recently I saw a 48 year old Premier Padmini in Chennai and was amazed at the way it was moving on the road.

It is as simple as this- Those days, products were made to last longer. 

Nowadays, they are made so that new versions can be brought out soon. Consumers are encouraged to change their ‘editions’ and exchange the old ones with the new ones. I remember seeing an ad for a mobile handset where a gentleman is chided by his friend for possessing a two-year old phone.

Outdated- Isn’t this a very common phrase nowadays?

Well, I am not a person who hates technology or one who clings on to things which are obsolete. New Editions are always welcome provided these come out naturally as per the needs and demands. But this maddening pace where the shelf life is getting shortened by the day, in my opinion is not a healthy trend. There does not seem to be value for any product or for that matter respect for anything.

This indeed is a gross misinterpretation of Bharati’s verse. When the Mahakavi sang ‘Pazhaiyana Kazhidalum Pudhiyana Pugudhalum’(let old ones give way to the new ones), he meant ‘thinking’ and ‘ideas’ and not things which are materialistic..

To a great extent, this reflects our Life and the way we live. All we want is instant gratification. We want fast foods. We want Breaking news (in a way, all news is ‘breaking’ because we end up breaking our heads). We want to make a fast buck. We want everything which is new. In short, we have lost that virtue called patience.

We don’t have the patience to watch the Sunrise and the Sunset. We don’t have the patience to look at the Stars. We don’t have the patience to see the flight of a bird. We don’t have the patience to listen to the song of the  bird. We don’t have the patience to feel the sound of the breeze.

 We don’t have the patience to be one with Nature.

However, this happens at least in the Song of the Day. Two people dance in the rain with gay abandon. Forget that it is just a movie and forget about the sequence or about the actors.. The music makes me feel the joy and the romance and that is what matters to me.

Apart from creating that Rain mood, Poththukkittu Ooththdhadi Vaanam’ from  Paayum Puli (1980) , is musically very sound. It follows two different ragas in both Pallavi/ CharaNams and in the interludes, but the change is so smooth and seamless that one even hardly notices it (anyway, does one need to notice at all?).

It starts with the thundering sound of the rain. The differently sounding keys show the rain drops and Malaysia Vasudevan sings the first line even as the rain continues to pour with the Bass Guitar enjoying the atmosphere. The Keys sound like bubbles and the ever-enthusiastic strings shower us with melody. No percussion until now. But as the shehnai appears playing a melody in Mohanam( scale related to ShankarabharaNam with five common notes), two mridangams dance, with the first one playing ‘ta ka dhi mi’ and the other one playing only the ‘ta’ and ‘dhi’. Subtle bells and the keys are sounded in the background to enhance the experience.

The first line of the Pallavi is in ShankarabharaNam though the ‘ri’ and the ‘ga’ are absent. The following two lines are in Charukesi with the flute that appears at the end of each line too playing that raga. The last line has the common notes (ga ma pa ga ri sa) but one can clearly feel the Charukesi flavour in this and in the santoor which follows.

The first three lines of the CharaNams are in ShankarabharaNam while the last two lines are in Charukesi. The last two phrases in the last line have the podi sangatis as well and one sees the beautiful slide as the notes go on the descent. 

The change in percussion -from mridangam to Tabla/Dolak, the subtle change in the chatushram beats from the third line, and the bass guitar that sounds along with the percussion show the composer’s tendency to innovate and keep innovating.

A special mention must also be made of Suseela’s voice which touches the higher- octave from the mid-octave with consummate ease.

 ILaiyaraaja must have taken a Time-Machine and travelled to his childhood days in PaNNaippuram . This is what one feels while listening to the interludes..

In the first interlude, the two sets of strings pour water on each other-one in higher-octave and the other in mid-octave. In the same playful mood, the one in the higher –octave, provokes the flute which responds coyly. The santoor enters and does a graceful rain dance to give some respite to the strings. The strings then move ebulliently with the bass guitar applauding it.

The second interlude is even more colourful. With the thundering rain in the background, the bass guitar first plays without a raincoat on. The shehnai comes jumping, moving and fluttering like a bird. The santoor and the strings move in a circle. The flute does a contemporary western dance with the strings swaying from one side to another.

So, what if many things are transient now? This music is eternal and everlasting..

….like the Rain!



Friday, 27 April 2018

Idiolect



Xi Jinping is the most powerful person in China. This is a fact known to almost every creature in the planet (in case, any creature doesn’t know this, it will meet its fate, don’t worry!). But not many know that he was responsible, albeit indirectly, for making a person lose her job.

This happened in the year 2014 when the President visited India. A newsreader on Doordarshan pronounced his name as ’11 Jinping’( see how his first name looks a lot like the Roman XI. Thankfully, it is not ‘ix’!) and she was asked to get out. Of course, she was only a contracted employee and that made the job easier for the authorities.

But what irked me that time (and still irks me) is the fact that the authorities don’t care a damn if Indian names- South Indian names in particular- are pronounced wrongly. It could be because even the authorities do not know the correct pronunciation. For 5 years from 1987 to 1992, the President was christened as ‘Venkatraman’ and not ‘Venkataraaman’. The former finance minister is still called by many as ‘Chidaambaram’ and not ‘Chidambaram’. Curious case of ‘nedil’(நெடில்) becoming ‘kuril(குறில்) and vice versa.
In fact, people living in the north of the vindhyas hardly care about the South Indian names nor do they bother to give any respect. When Mooppanar formed ‘Tamizh Maanila Congress’, the channels thought he was seeking the help of people from Philippines. Otherwise, how could one explain their pronouncing the name as ‘Tamil Manilaa Congress’? The capital city of TN reminds them probably of a Red Dog, because it is ‘Chennaaai’. Examples galore but let me stop here and travel to the south of vindhyas.

Newsreaders here too, murder North Indian names, though it is less intense. Of course, they murder International names as well and one of the unforgettable gaffes was by a lady newsreader on DD long ago when she pronounced ‘Helmet Kohl’ as ‘Helmut Goal’(probably, she was symbolically suggesting the greatness of Germany in football!).

In my opinion, all these can be at least excused. What cannot be excused is the murder of Tamizh by the Tamizh people(not necessarily the media alone). Now, do this exercise. Watch TV serials, News channels and the latest movies for about 2 hours. Take a piece of paper and count the number of people who get ‘ல’, ‘ள’, ‘ந’, ‘ன’, ‘ண’ right. I am sure, your paper will be almost blank.
Go out to a crowded place. Listen to people. Even in colloquial tamizh, see how many people get all those right. See if even such a small word as ‘keezhe’(கீழே ) is pronounced correctly or as ‘keele’(கீல ).

Same is the case in writing as well. It is not uncommon to find people mixing up and ‘ and and .

Well, this is the state of affairs now. What is shocking is that people talk about ‘tamizh race’ and ‘pride’ and yet do not pay attention to the language which is 5000 years old and to the special letters which has made the language one of the most beautiful and unique languages in the world.

I am not here to analyse the causes for this decay. At the same time, my heart bleeds when I see/hear such murders. If I was into law making, I would bring some stringent laws to make people speak/write tamizh properly. But the fact is I am not. Therefore, let me write about a song, which in a way parodies such people.

No, it is not a song in ‘Sentamizh’.

The beauty of ‘Vaalvinil’ from ‘PattaNam Pogalaam Vaa’(1981-unrelased) lies as much in the ‘tamizh murder’ as in the very different orchestration. I am sure both have been done intentionally.

Not many would even believe that the music was scored by ILaiyaraaja, unless told. They can be easily excused if they thought the song was from the ‘40s if they listened to the prelude.

Before we get on with that, I must register my appreciation for Malaysia Vasudevan. It is not easy for a man known for his perfect diction of tamizh(despite being a malayali) to murder tamizh. See, how he says ‘ல’  (la) instead of ‘ள’ (La), ன (na) instead of ‘(Na)  instead of  (and vice versa) and ல(la)  instead of (zha). And how beautifully he has modulated the voice..

As regards Raaja sir, I read long back in one of the forums that he cannot bring out the essence of the old era and that he used the same kind of instruments and tune while trying to recreate that era. The comment quoted the ‘Nayagan’ song and the one from ‘Aditya 369’. People who make such comments should listen to ILaiyaraaja in full. In fact, they must listen to this song to see how the ‘Bhagawatar era’ has been recreated.

Though it has that ‘old era’ flavour, genuine followers of this genius can easily recognise his distinct style here too.

If the romance between the jalatarangam and the tabla tarang and between the clarinet and the strings in the prelude gives us a clue, the way strings are played towards the end of the prelude with the jalatarangam and tabla tarang striking alternately, suggests us as to who would have composed this.

When the percussion completed the aavartanam in the Pallavi, we can easily recognise the Raaja muthirai, a distinct mark like the water mark on the rupee notes!

Charukesi in its pristine form in the prelude, interludes, pallavi and in the charaNams reconfirm that this is the work of the genius.

So do the sober clarinet and the racy strings in the first interlude, the call and response between the strings and the tabla tarang, the soulful clarinet and the sizzling flute in the second interlude , the sudden appearance of the clarinet in the first CharaNam and the structure of the two CharaNams, one different from the other.

The naughty side of Raaja sir is seen again in the second CharaNam where there is impromptu rendering of kalpana swarams after ‘Oram Po’.

It may be recalled that ‘Oram Po’ and ‘Vaangonna’ were banned by AIR and DD those days for ‘vulgarity’ and ‘objectionable content’. Wonder how the authorities do not find any problem with the present day tamizh spoken by ‘tamilans’, while they could find simple rustic words used while learning cycling and the words used by a particular community, ‘vulgar’ and ‘objectionable’.

Shouldn’t such people in the media meet the fate of the newsreader who got the name of the Chinese President wrong?

And shouldn’t there be a ban on the murder of tamizh in our state?

But again, if there is a ban, then 90% of the politicians and 95% of the actors will be rendered jobless.

Isn’t it good for us then?

PS: This post is dedicated to all ‘tamilans’!

                  
                  
                   Check this out on Chirbit
         

Sunday, 11 March 2018

Obverse



A couple of nights ago, when I was surfing the channels on TV, I found a channel playing ‘Raaja songs’. I clicked ‘Ok’ on my remote just to check the kind of songs that were being played. I must admit though that I have not had a great experience with such programmes in the past because of varied reasons, four of these being-1. Same songs played repeatedly, 2.Only ‘popular’ songs played, 3.Non-Raaja songs played, 4.Pathetic picturisation.

While (1.) and (2.) are ok and acceptable to a certain extent, as his songs can be listened to repeatedly without feeling tired or bored-though my first preference is always for his ‘lesser known’ songs- (3.) is irritatingly amusing(once they even played a song from ‘Kizhakku Cheemiyile’!. Wonder how they missed out ‘RojaJ). It is (4.) which gives me mix of all negative feelings because apart from the fact that no film maker can do full justice to his music, my mental vision of many of his songs are different and I wouldn’t let anything disturb that vision. That is why, I have still not watched the visuals of most of his ‘70s songs-songs which are very close to my heart(this includes ‘MalargaLile Aaradhanai’, ‘Devathai Oru Devathai’ and many other songs).

Going back to that night, a song was just ending and the next one was about to start. Since my ears and the heart are trained to listen to his music and can easily make out any of his songs in a split-second, the moment the prelude started, I could sense that it was one of my evergreen favourites. Though I have listened to the song innumerable times, little had I realised(that is until that moment) that it was a song composed for a film in which an actor known for his ‘flamboyant’ dress sense played the lead role. Nor had I realised that his pair(female lead) was an actor in whose lexicon ‘graceful dance’ never existed.

Added to this were the gaudy setting and inaesthetic lighting. My dismay and discomfiture cannot be put in words now.  But what can be put in words are my feelings about the composition.

Arumbagi Mottaagi Poovagi’ from ‘Enga Ooru Kaavalkaran’(1988) has never failed to excite me and calm my senses at the same time. If this sounds like an oxymoron, so be it. As I always keep saying, it is the element of contrast which makes a poem or a musical piece beautiful.

And there are many contrasting beauties in this composition.

Listen to the bass guitar and the special bells sound which back the piercing flute in the beginning. And the two sets of bells which follow one after the other in different octaves..And ah , yes, the two sets of strings in two different octaves playing together. How contrasting each one sounds!

The percussion-which is totally silent in the prelude, making an entry only after one and half cycles in the Pallavi- plays rather gently for 3 beats and resoundingly in the 4th beat. Do I have to say that ‘C’ word again here?

In any case, I must mention about yet another ‘C’ word- Charukesi- the raga on which this composition is based. This raga is eternally pleasing. What is also eternally pleasing is the sound of the flute and in the hands of the Master it sounds even more pleasing. The prelude piece and the one in the beginning of the first interlude are classic examples.

What about the twin-flute which appears in the first and last segments of this interlude? It is no doubt pleasing but the ‘C’ element appears here too, with each flute playing in two different octaves, though the notes are the same. In fact, this happens in the second interlude too and the sound from the twin-flute in two different octaves surrounds us like a friendly bee (bees can be friendly too, anyway!).

The two sets of strings in the first interlude which follow the flute and romances with it though briefly, offer pleasing contrast too. So does the special sound which intercepts the higher-octave strings in the second interlude, moving from left to right!

The guitar is a loner(in the first interlude) but being alone when preceded and followed by a group of intense instruments itself is a contrast.

I see the contrast even in the way the Pallavi and the CharaNams are structured. The Pallavi is in ‘ateeta eduppu’, with the taaLa cycle starting after the vocals while the CharaNams are in ‘anaagata eduppu’ with the vocals starting after the beginning of the cycle. And see how the Pallavi is rendered only by the male singer and the CharaNams both by the male and female.

This might sound outlandish but somehow I feel Deepan Chakravarthy’s voice  sounding soft while Suseela’s voice being more aggressive.

Coming to think of it, isn’t there contrast between the audio and video , with the former pleasant, aesthetic and fulfilling and the latter ..........(fill up the blanks)!





Friday, 15 July 2011

One who dispels myths and darkness..

‘Can there be any separate place for Guru’(Guruvukku Yedhu Sthaanam?) asked the gentleman with a beaming smile and sparkling eyes.. I was left speechless.

This happened on the 23rd of Jan 2009 when I fell at his feet and asked for his blessing from a ‘Guru sthaanam’.After that, I left for a divine village.Throughout the bus journey, I was left pondering at that statement..How we take things for granted..What do we mean by ‘sthaanam’? Can a Guru be pushed to that ‘corner’ as per our convenience and worshipped?

Well..no points for guessing as to whom I am referring to..

This gentleman has taught me so much about music and life in the last 35 years without his being aware of that. Like a colossus, he rose and guided me through his music. Without him, would it have been possible for me to have deciphered the difference between Mohanam and Pahaadi? Or Tisram and Khandam? Or even known about Graha Bedam? Or known about Base lines?...Apart from appreciating his music, if I have gained some knowledge(though very miniscule) in music, don’t I owe it to him?

Given these facts, is it fair on my part to give some small ‘sthaanam’ to him?Is he not omnipresent with his music?

Today is Guru PoorNima.It is believed that Sage Vyaasa-who wrote the Magnum Opus Mahabharata- was born on this day and also organised the Vedas into different parts on the Guru PoorNima day (much later).Veda Vyaasa - as he is called- is also considered to be the first Guru. This day is celebrated(more in N.India) with great reverence and the people( mainly of Fine arts) offer their PraNaams to their respective Gurus.It is somewhat equivalent to Vijaya Dasami celebrated in the South.

On this day, I offer my humble PraNaams to my Guru through the only way I know.Writing and dedicating the post and the song to him.

Today’s song is ‘Anbu Enum’, a composition from ‘Shri Ragavendrar’(1984).

The opening of the song itself dispels the darkness(‘Guru’ means the one who drives away ignorance and darkness!).It is set in Vibhas, one of the morning ragas.The Sitar, the strings and the Jalatarangam show us the morning rays of the sun as the Pallavi in pure and simple Kaapi starts.

‘The Mantra called Love is enough for all of us to come together’.

The raga beautifully changes to Chakravaagam in the first interlude.
The CharaNam that continues in Charukesi talks succinctly about the Guru and his Grace.

‘He knows no anger.. He is serene..’

The second interlude is a kind of question and answer session between a Guru and his disciples. The luminous flute towards the end is graceful as the Guru and symbolically represents the Guru’s calm demeanor.

The last musical piece leads towards Senchurutti, a very beautiful raga.

‘Everyone is equal before him.He knows no partiality’.

Unconditional Love.. Unbridled Affection.. Ever flowing Grace..

Guru-Can we even attempt to put him in a Sthaanam?

Monday, 1 November 2010

Dedicated to..

Recently, in the much touted, much publicized and much hyped World Tamizh meet(செம்மொழி மாநாடு ), a lady ‘poet’ (poetess sounds chauvinistic to me) while reading out her ‘poem’ said tamil(தமில்) for Tamizh (தமிழ்), aval(அவல்) for avaL (அவள்), panam(பனம்) for paNam (பணம்).To top it all, the gentleman who was the Head of the gathering- who calls himself as ‘Kavi perarasar’- while introducing her said 'தமிழ் இவரது பாட்டன் வீட்டு சொத்து (Tamizh is her grandfather’s wealth) referring to her lineage.

Can there be a greater insult to the language?

But this is not an isolated case. Tune in to any satellite channel. Listen to the anchors. Watch any new tamizh movie. Listen how the actors pronounce the words. Listen to the present day songs.Forget even the North Indian singers. Look how the ‘so called Tamizh singers pronounce the words .Cold blooded murder!

At times, one feels a law has to be enacted and the offenders punished very strictly. They must be put behind the bars and an intense training on pronunciation must be given. Their release date will purely depend on their ability to grasp what is taught and their seriousness in implementing it. But there is a serious problem here. As things stand, I feel at least 70%-80% of the Tamizh population does not pronounce the letters properly. This being the case, will there be enough space in the prisons? And even if there is space, do we have enough people to teach the huge crowd?

Point to ponder!!

Today’s rare gem is a very interesting song. Nearly 3 decades back, Raaja sir had envisaged this situation and composed a song as a parody. Malysia Vasudevan, known for his clear diction sang it admirably well. I know how difficult it is for a person who is attached to the language religiously to murder that language.

The song also takes a dig at self-styled moralists who banned songs at their will. The second charanam makes specific reference to the 2 songs that were banned.

Another speciality of the song is the Thyagraja Bhagawathar style of orchestration.

Without any further delay, let me tell you that the song is ‘Vaalvinil un ninaivaal’ from Pattanam pogalam vaa(1981).

We hear the ripples of melody from the jalatharangam followed by the energetic violins. The saxophone follows in the ‘old’ style rather sarcastically. The Raga Charukesi looks at us with glee.

Malaysia Vasudevan starts the ‘murder’ with pin point accuracy. The pause for almost one cycle gives an opportunity for the mridangam to dance with joy.

The first interlude follows the Bhagawathar pattern.But what is admirable is the fact that though it has that old flavour, one can also easily make out the ‘Raaja style’.Isn’t this one of his many strengths?

The CharNams are designed very interestingly. If one forgets the funny voice and the pronunciation, it can easily be called as a pure classical song!

The second interlude gathers momentum with the violins and the Tabla Tarang giving a swirl of patterns. It is graceful and at the same time is very sharp. The tender saxophone and the captivating flute exude brilliance.

As already mentioned, the second charaNam is full of sarcasm. The niraval swarams at ‘Oram po..’ give us loads of laughter. If only the ‘authorities’ who banned the songs were to listen to this, they would squirm in their seats with their conscience constantly pricking them all over.

The ‘kolluthe’ line typifies the present day Tamizh.

This song is dedicated to all the murderers of Tamizh language with a fervent plea to learn the language properly!

Otherwise Tamizh would turn back to them and say ‘Vaazhvinil un ninaivaal azhugindren..’(I am crying!!).