Friday, 27 October 2023

ILaiyaraaja – The Contrarian

 

How appropriate is appropriateness in Life?

But isn’t appropriateness itself subjective? Or is it?

At the same time, aren’t there norms and rules and doesn’t one have to strictly follow these and wouldn’t failure to follow these make one ‘appropriately inappropriate’?

Take music, Indian music, in particular. Each raga has ascending and descending notes and if an alien note enters the raga, it is against grammar rules.

For that matter, any work of art(and this includes poems) should follow the grammar without which it becomes meaningless and also cannot be termed as a work of art. But if one goes strictly by the rule book, the work also seems staid, mechanical, monotonous and even unenterprising, thus defeating the very purpose of art.

Any work of art attains a status not only if it is as per rules but also when it breaks certain rules.

Does this sound conflicting and paradoxical?

At the face of it, yes. But scratch the surface and you will see the real meaning; in fact, layers of meanings.

There is something called innovation; there is something called improvisation. Both these are offshoots of creativity. When the artform is kept as the base and new ideas are added to it by stretching the boundary without in anyway crossing the border, it acquires a special beauty. But here too, there should be a broad rule: the thin line distinguishing the border from the boundary should be very clear and not confusing.

And therein lies the hallmark of a genius.

Here is a sample of work from one of the geniuses who preferred to call himself as a ‘servant of the servants’(thoNdaradi podi), and yet was exalted to the status of an aazhwar.

Describing the beauty of the Universe is not uncommon in a poem, even if it is a verse dedicated to the Divine. However here, the poet looks at it in a different way. Let us see the verse first:

 

கதிரவன் குணதிசைச் சிகரம் வந்து அணைந்தான்;

கன இருள் அகன்றது காலை அம்பொழுதாய்;

மது விரிந்து ஒழுகின மா மலர் எல்லாம்;

வானவர்கள் அரசர்கள் வந்து வந்து ஈண்டி,

எதிர்திசை நிறைந்தனர்;இவரொடும் புகுந்த

இருள் களிற்று ஈட்டமும் பிடியொடு முரசும்

அதிர்தலில் அலைகடல் போன்றுளது எங்கும்;

அரங்கத்தம்மா! பள்ளி எழுந்தருளாயே!

 

The sun has come to the east; No more darkness and it is the dawn; Honey oozes out from the flowers; Devas, Kings, male elephants, female elephants- have lined up; The drums sound with resonance; It seems like the sound of the ocean. Oh! Ranganatha!! Please wake up.

What is different here?

It is believed that it is the Divine which is responsible for the Universe, the actions, the activities and the beauty. Here, the poet describes the beauty to the One who is responsible for that and most importantly, has the audacity to ask that ‘One’ to wake up as if the Divine sleeps.

Is this appropriate or inappropriate?

Rather than trying to figure out an appropriate answer, let us all understand that at times there is beauty in inappropriateness and that it is this beauty which makes any work aesthetic and immortal.

And yes, this does not exclude musical works.

Take this particular song – Paadu Nilaave from Udaya Geetam(1985). For starters, it is based on a raga called Mohanam. Note the word –‘based’. As I have mentioned in many of my posts, it is not the raga alone which matters.

Now, Mohanam has just 5 swaras- sa ri2 ga3 pa dha2- with the numbers below each note referring to the variant of that note. ILaiyaraaja as such has composed many songs in this raga, with some being in its ‘purest’ form and others with a mix of alien notes. Generally, the alien notes would be the notes non-existent in the raga, say – the swaras, ma and ni. At times, it would also be the other variant of the 3 notes – ri, ga, dha-, but these would be sparingly used.

Paadu Nilaave’ is different and in more than one way.

The composition starts with the akaaram of Janaki which is graceful and bewitching at the same time. The strings reply with equal grace and with a sense of awe. As soon as the akaaram gets over, the strings take over and how? There are three sets with one set playing a tantalising melody and the other two sets playing a repeat melody alternating with each other. Even as this is on, the feeling of poignancy is ineluctable. This itself is somewhat unusual because Mohanam is a raga known for creating a happy mood. Now, read my line on ‘raga’ in one of the paragraphs!

The bells sound softly leading to the Pallavi which again has that sense of melancholy, not least because of the entry of the other variants of ‘ga’ and ‘dha’ with the former going on a procession along with its brother(ga3) and the latter combining once with its brother(dha2) in the end, giving that chromatic effect.

The procession continues in the first interlude with the strings sounding gingerly in the beginning. The next set of strings continue like a chain-link along with the subtle guitar. The chain-link is maintained by the piped instruments even as the strings back them like the wispy thread. As if not to be shown to be someone who is left behind, the flute enters and plays plaintively even as the two sets of strings back it, with one being dominant and the other, subtle. All these join together towards the end, making pensive glides and evoking a mélange of feelings.

The musical procession continues in the CharaNams with the first line alone in Mohanam and the following lines filled with the other ga. The other dha too appears now and then towards the end. This of course is just the technical side. But the feelings and emotions evoked by the lines and the flute ‘between the lines’ which billows a lugubrious and yet sweet melody, take us to empyrean heights.

The entry of SPB after the first CharaNam, vivifies the atmosphere and makes us expect more.

Our expectations are not belied. In fact, what happens is even beyond one’s expectations.

The second interlude is vivacious to start with. The strings and a phalanx of instruments play in Mohanam with vibrancy and catapults us to a sea of happiness. It is a flood of melody with the electric guitar trotting up and down with the strings backing it assiduously and different sounds ( 4 to be precise) going up like the Diwali crackers.

And then something happens…

A group of strings play in higher-octave with precision. Another set of strings supports it like a balustrade. Keys sound the notes like an incantation. But all these in a totally different raga called Pantuvarali.

Let me now touch upon something technical. Ragas like Pantuvarali are so flexible that if one takes out ‘sa’ and ‘pa’ and does gruha bhedam, one can get the popular pentatonic ragas like Mohanam, Hindolam, Suddha Dhanyasi, Suddha Saaveri and Madhyamavati. So, if the swara ‘ga’ of Pantuvarali is kept as the ‘sa’, it gives Mohanam. ILaiyaraaja has done this in the ‘Violin concerto’ in ‘Rajapaarvai’. But what he has done here is something unthinkable. He has done what can be called a ‘reverse gruha bhedam’. Honestly how he did it remains a mystery at least to me. He shifts from Mohanam to Pantuvarali in a jiffy and gets back to Mohanam towards the end of the interlude, which of course can be deciphered rather easily, as the ‘ga’ of Pantuvarali is kept as the ‘sa’.

So, how appropriate is the prolific use of the other variants in Mohanam?

How appropriate is the reverse gruha bhedam leading to a totally different raga?

Do we need answers or do we just need to see the beauty in being ‘inappropriate’ like ThoNdaradipodiyaazhwar who had the audacity to describe the beauty to the Creator and asked him to ‘open his eyes’?

Being inappropriate is appropriate, at times.

Being inappropriate is aesthetic, at times.

Being inappropriate makes our life beautiful, at times.

Do you agree?

 

 

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