ILaiyaraaja – The Breezy Musician

 

Wind is poetic. Wind is musical.

Isn’t that the reason for many poets describing the wind, using similes, keeping wind as a metaphor and even symbolising wind as an ambassador?

Before I go to the second element which finds a mention in the first line, let me briefly delve into the first element. Tamizh grammar gives different names to the same wind depending on the direction from which it blows. As per literature(and as per one’s experience as well), the quality of the wind varies and is purely dependent on the direction. Concomitantly, our feelings and emotions too vary. As an example, the wind blowing from the south is ‘thendRal’ and is supposed to be very pleasant. On the other hand, the one blowing from the north- vaadai- is supposed to evoke the feeling of viraha (separation).

Would you believe me if I said that an entire piece of work in literature revolves around the wind, the one from the north to be precise? Viraha, which is the quality of vaadai, runs as the undercurrent in Nedunalvaadai, which is part of the Sangam literature. Composed by Nakkeerar, it is in praise of Thalaiyaalangaanaththu cheruvendRa paaNdiyan Nedunchezhiyan. Unlike many other works, the hero appears only towards the end and even this is brief as the verses here talk about his visit to the camp to see the warriors who fought for him in the war. Pregnant with descriptions about nature, the palace and the cot for most part, this work is on the viraha feelings of the queen who misses her husband and leaning on the ivory cot with tears in her eyes, listens to the prayers to Goddess KotRavai.

Did I not mention that viraha runs as the undercurrent? It actually runs subtly even in the description of nature. One has to read between the lines to comprehend, grasp, understand and appreciate this fact. What I am giving below is just a sample and these three lines appear almost towards the end of the work.

வடந்தைத் தண் வளி எறிதொறும் நுடங்கித்

தெற்கு ஏர்பு இறைஞ்சிய தலைய நன் பல

பாண்டில் விளக்கில் பரூஉச்சுடர்  அழல.

The cold wind from the north blew and whenever it blew, the thick flame in the round lamps, swayed and tilted towards the south.

Pretty simple, right? North to south. It is logical, scientific and natural. What is great about this?

Anyone who loves just the surface and wants to stay only there, is bound to ask this.

But people who hate the word ‘superficial’, will say these:

But scratch the surface; go beyond that.

Don’t read just the lines; read between the lines as well.

Always aim to see the unseen.

If we follow the latter, we can discover a gold mine. The Queen’s location(no GPS those days!) is to the south of the place of war. By saying that the vaadai was blowing, the poet first touches upon the viraha. He goes a step further and rather than saying that the lamps went off(which is what happens when the wind blows), he says the flame just tilted towards the south, indicating that there is a happy ending and that the king will return to his palace after emerging victorious in the war. The flame can also be considered as a symbol for the queen, with the vaadai being the emotion.

This is what the wind does to the imagination and creativity of poets.

Doesn’t the same happen in case of music and therefore with musicians as well?

That we cannot hear music in the absence of wind, is too well known a fact to be even mentioned. But the fact that some geniuses have used the different types of wind, musically is something which is known and yet has to be mentioned.

Here is a naayika, besotted completely with her lover and finds music as a form of expressing her desire and yes, viraha. The genius that he is, ILaiyaraaja uses a classical raga known more to invoke the feeling of devotion and certainly not associated with romance, unlike pentatonic ragas or even complete ragas like KalyaNi.

The raga Simhendramadhyamam is deep and unlike its Shuddha Madhyama counterpart KiravaNi, is not universal. It does take a lot of gumption to use this raga in a romantic set up. He has done this before as well in ‘Aananda Ragam’, a song I discussed here four years ago (ILaiyaraaja – The Prudent Musican- 14^th April 2019) . But this one is different, in fact it is a study in contrast.

If ‘Ananda Ragam’ is racy like the wind from the north, ‘Thaalaattum PoongaatRu Naanallava’ (Gopura Vaasalile- 1991) is like the wind from sea, soothing and yet deep with a degree of heat present innately.

The initial humming of Janaki is like the Kacchaan(wind from the west), soft, quiet and mild. In a matter of seconds, one sees the sketch of the raga. With the santoor interjecting with grace, the small flute moves elegantly. Two other flutes take over and play simultaneously with panache, one in higher-octave and the other in lower-octave, thus showing the contrasting emotions- joy and viraha. Like the wind which go up and down during the rain, the keys sound the ascending and the descending notes of the raga.

The Pallavi (vocals: Janaki) too has the ascending(rigamapa) and the descending swaras (magarisani.) in the first two phrases of the last two lines(oh nenjame/en nenjame).The third line (varuvaayo/ vaarayo) exudes with viraha with some closely packed swaras (padhamapagamapaga) in vaayo and raayo.

The strings in the beginning of the first interlude, move with ferocity like the KundRavaadai (wind from the North- East). Meanwhile, the flute moves with vibrancy like the Karunkondal (South-East) with the guitar passing like the cross wind, in between. One sees the two layers of the wind in the two sets of strings. While one is boisterous and vivacious, the other is delicate and subtle. The santoor and the keys sway like the branches of the trees.

The flute continues its wave of enthusiasm in the CharaNams as well, showing up between the lines again in ascending and descending fashion alternately. One also sees the sudden upward movement of the wind towards the end of the CharaNam with the penultimate line showing a steady climb to start with (sariga), a descent(risasa), a sudden jump(from the lower sa straight to the upper Sa), a slight descent(SaniniSa) and then an intense descent in the higher-octave (GaRisa). The last line is a mix of ascent and descent just like the wind blowing in the mountains.

Vaadaikachchaan (South-East) meets Kacchankodai (South-West) in the first half of the second interlude. This is how one can describe the flute melody and the santoor melody. If the former is plaintive and deep, the latter is jubilant and gentle. So captivating is this spectacle which is full of contrasts that even the percussion stops playing, absorbing itself in the beauty. Two sets of strings go in tandem, one in lower-octave and the other in higher-octave and this seems like the meeting of Vaadai and ThendRal.

Wind is poetic; Wind is musical..

..just like Life!  

ILaiyaraaja's Music and Emotions-IV- Love

The white jasmine buds which are as bright as the moonlight eagerly wait and yearn for the rains even as they gently embrace the green tendrils of the red jasmine. The Lady Love looks at this sight and says ‘Like these jasmine buds which will blossom as the rain drops kiss them, my ‘black beauty’ too will blossom as soon as the sound of the chariot of my Man is heard’.

தளவின் பைங்கொடி தழீஇப் பையென
நிலவின் அன்ன நேர் அரும்பு பேணிக்
கார் நயந்து எய்தும் முல்லை அவர்
தேர் நயந்து உறையும் என் மாமைக் கவினே

This love-drenched  poem  from ‘AinkuRunooRu’ which is part of the 2500 year old Sangam literature is beautiful in terms of the similes used - Jasmine buds and the moon light-,  comparison- Jasmine Buds and the Lady, Rain and her Man,and the contrast- Moonlight and Black beauty. But what I like the most about this poem  written by Peyanaar is the fact that rather than artificially glorifying fair skin, it honestly talks about the natural dark complexion of the Lady thus breaking the myth surrounding the colour of the skin.

Generally tamizh poets love to depict the Heroine as being ‘fair and lovely’. The Hero can be dark complexioned and this does not really matter because a Man is expected to show valour while the woman should invariably be beautiful and beauty here means the complexion. In fact, this traditional typecasting continues in the 21^st Century too, the ads and movies being some classic examples.
The bold Heroine in this poem takes pride in her complexion and calls herself as ‘Maamai kavin’.

The poem also tells us a true Love Story in a matter of 4 lines. He is away and has been away for quite a while. Steadfast in her love, and exuding positivity, she waits for his return. Separation, Expectation, Trust and Belief- are these not the ingredients of Love?

I find Love (literally and figuratively) at its best in many compositions of ILaiyaraaja.

Kaadal kavitaigaL padiththidum neram from Gopura Vaasalile(1991) is one such compositions  and according to me is one of the best Love songs in Indian Film Music. What set the song apart are the ragam, the way it is used, the orchestration, arrangement and the voices of SPB and Chitra.

Based on Mayamalavagowla, a very classical raga known for Bhakti and poingnancy, the song make us float in mid air and most importantly make us fall in love. Though Raaja sir has used this raga ubiquitously and with ease, ‘Kaadal kavithaigaL’ is a classic.

With melody and aesthetics permeating the atmosphere, the composition starts with two sets of strings playing two different sets of notes zestfully and with zeal.If only we do a small exercise of focusing one set and shutting off the other one and then do the same process but this time concentrating on the other one alone, an aural treat is surely guaranteed.

Silk braced with steel. That is what I should say as the Recorder, a wind instrument that sounds like a shrill flute takes over and plays the notes of Mayamalavagowla deftly. The melodically comely flute follows and here too there is a second subtle flute playing a different set of notes simultaneously. The musical equation is amazing indeed! Finally, the euphonic bells smile and give the signal of love leading us to the Pallavi.

The Pallavi starts with the upper ‘Sa’ which itself is rather unusual. The brilliant repetition of ‘dha pa’ in the third and the fourth line(idayam, iLamai, amudam,azhagil) is nectarine and straightaway steals our hearts. The last line speaks volumes of the brilliance of the composer. In Carnatic Music, during the ‘kalpana swara’segment, a trained musician weaves a beautiful pattern whereby the ending swara matches with the first swara in the korvai. This is called as ‘poruththam’. The Carnatic Musician in ILaiyaraaja comes to the fore here as the swaras of the last line are ‘ma pa dha ni’ continuing with ‘Sa ni’the swaras of the first phrase (kaadal).

Isn’t musician a painter too? ILaiyaraaja, the artist sketches the interludes with an unbelievable and yet impeccable dexterity. The outline is drawn first with the keys in the beginning of the first interlude. The lustrous flute follows to the backing of the subtle flute which plays the staccato notes. The guitar responds to the romantic call of the Flute. Moving with a striking melodic force and following a wavy pattern, the strings show the quietistic ripeness of love.The Flute that interjects in the end cries in ecstasy.

The CharaNams are musically very sound with the lines composed with a firmness of purpose. The phrases in the second and the third lines are structured in such a way that the swara in the middle of each phrase starting from the second phrase becomes the beginning swara in the following phrase. It goes like ‘ga ma pa/ma pa dha/pa dha ni/dha ni Sa Ri Sa’.

A close observation suggests that the same set of swaras appear in the end too(the penultimate line has the first three sets only) but it does not sound redundant. The last phrase in the last line ‘dha ni Sa Ri Sa’ matches again with the first phrase of the Pallavi-‘Sa ni’.

The CharaNams are festooned with the alternating strings and flute that complete the taaLa cycle after the second and the fourth lines.

The second interlude glows beautifully like love. It starts with a rhythmically rousing sequence with the percussion sounding ‘taangu taangu tataangu taangu taangu’ which is ta ki ta/ta ki ta/ta ka dhi mi/ta ki ta/ ta ki ta- 3/3/4/3/3, a total of 16 maatraas. Only the first syllable in the tisram(group of three) and the first two syllables in chatushram(group of four) are sounded enhancing the beauty. Even as this goes on for a taaLa cycle of 5 and half, the recorder shines with resplendence giving some mesmeric touches. The half cycle is then completed with the melodic guitar.

The Strings that follow show the lively and leisurely facets of the raga with emotional grandeur. In a way, this by itself typifies the entire composition.

Dimensions of Music..Dimensions of Love..