ILaiyaraaja- The Perceptive Musician

That young and beautiful girl sees that man from the balcony and instantly falls for him. That man along with his brother and a sage, looks at her too and disappears Somewhere deep inside she feels she knows him for eons.. She rushes back inside and falls on her bed. Tormented by the thoughts of the man, she is unable to move, unable to talk, unable to sleep. She sweats. Looking at her condition, her friends start fanning her.

Let me stop here for a minute, introduce the girl, the man and most importantly, the poet and then continue.

The girl’s name is Sita, the man- Rama and the poet, Kamban.

This sequence is of course very familiar to many but what may not be familiar(or known) is the fact that in Valmiki’s Ramayana, Sita sees Rama for the first time only during the swayamvara when Rama breaks the Bow. But the great innovator that he is, Kamban adds a lot of imagination to the sequence in Bala KANdam to make it more romantic. Not only is it romantic but is aesthetic too and is a treat for all lovers of poetry in general. In fact, much later, AruNaachala Kaviraayar followed the footsteps of Kamban and incorporated the same sequences in his Rama Nataka kritis. Who can forget the most popular ‘Yaaro ivar yaaro’ in Bhairavi?

Going back to Kamban and his verse, let us see how he describes Sita now.

She is burning inside. Her friends ‘fan’ her to make her cool. Now, the fan rather than cooling her down, spreads the fire (recall what happens in a Hindu ceremony where a agni kuNda is kept and the pundits fan the smoking wood to make it burn intensely!). Her garland burns. Her ornaments burn. And she melts. It seemed as though a golden statue was melting.

அருகில் நின்று அசைக்கின்ற ஆல வட்டக்கால்

எரியினை மிகுத்திட, இழையும் மாலையும்

கரிகுவ, தீகுவ, கனல்வ காட்டலால்,

உருகு பொற்பாவையும் ஒத்துத் தோன்றினாள்.

We feel the smoldering heat in the first 3 lines. The last line is like a snow fall- a sudden one at that. This is one of those poems where the contrast appears only in the last line and that alone is enough to make it shine with beauty.

But apart from the decorative poetic words, where Kamban excels is in the art of understanding his characters. A poet (or for that matter any writer) of course understands his characters well. After all it is he/she who creates the characters. But geniuses like Kamban make the readers ‘feel’ the character and situation as if it happens to them. This is because such geniuses get into the skin of the character as they say! The result ? Ecstasy for connoisseurs!!

The same logic applies to ILaiyaraaja. The reason for his songs sounding so beautiful is because he understands the situation (at times even better than the director. That is why, the picturisation doesn’t match the quality of the songs) so well, assimilates everything and then gives the tune and writes the notes for orchestra.

On this special day, let us see a composition which is very different and even be called as outlandish. Generally, we the listeners expect a duet song to be peppy. We love the beats. We love the steps. In a kind of fantasy mood, we even tend to substitute the hero/heroine with us. Imaginations are always wild you see..

For geniuses too, imaginations are wild but the difference is that while our imaginations are mish-mash, that of the geniuses are beautiful. We saw Kamban’s imagination which was running wild in the first three lines and suddenly changed track. In a similar vein, the song we are seeing today has a very different beginning. It does change track soon, but what makes it a composition par excellence is something else.

Viraha runs as an undercurrent throughout ‘Unnai Edhirpaarththen’ from ‘Vanaja Girija(1994). Such songs can be peppy too. But the composer chose to make it as sober as possible with the result that it leaves us in a state of calmness. We feel the calmness not just while listening to the song but long after it stops playing.

The choice of the raga is interesting too. Madhukauns is a simple audav(pentatonic) raga in Hindustani Music. Surprisingly enough, despite it being the pratimadhyama counterpart of Suddha Dhanyasi-which is a popular raga in Carnatic Music- this raga has been more widely used in Hindustani Music than in Carnatic Music. It goes by the name Sumanesa Ranjani in Carnatic Music and there are very few compositions, these too composed in the latter half of the 20^th Century. In film music, only Raaja sir has used it more prolifically.

Yet another different feature of ‘Unnai Edhirpaarththen’ is that the male voice (SPB) appears only in the second CharaNam and continues till the end.. The female voice (Swarnalatha)sings the Pallavi and the first CharaNam and does not appear at all again. Unique indeed! Probably we can call it as two solos in one song!! But again, the ubiquitous chorus which is superimposed on both the male and the female voices stop us from saying so. Without a doubt, a new genre.

If one listens to the first part of the prelude, he/she can be excused for believing that it is an eerie song, probably sung by a ghost. We hear the sound of the breeze first and this is followed by a sustained sound of the keys and a humming. The latter is backed by the rhythm guitar but still the thought of the ghost lingers in our minds. It is the stringed instrument- which sounds like a cross between a mandolin and a guitar- which brings us to the mortal world. The fading effect before the Pallavi is exciting and enticing too.

The Pallavi is sensitive and elegant and has a mesmeric quality. While the suppleness is not a thing which can be easily missed, what should not be missed is the rhythmic pattern. There are two sets of-one giving a very subtle sound and the other, a soft ‘whip like’ sound. The 4- beat chatushram cycle is divided as

Ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka dhi mi/ ta ki ta/ ta ki ta/ ta ka

(4                 /4                  /3          /3           /2)

But the percussion plays only the first syllable in the first part, the first and the third in the second part, leaves the entire third part blank, plays the first and second syllable in the fourth part and leaves the last one blank.

This ‘kaarvai’ has the desired effect in the composition and our heart beats too are in sync with these beats.

This pattern is maintained throughout except in some phases and we shall see that soon.

Another aspect of the composition is the chorus which backs the vocals humming different sets of notes. Of course, the instruments too back the vocals almost throughout the composition. All these take us to a dreamy world.

That this composer has an instinct to stratify different melodies is a known fact. In this composition, this is done so beautifully that it is like a façade of tranquility and peace. Musical architecture!

With felicitous fluidity, the strings move along with the other special stringed instrument in the first interlude. The keys give a smiling repartee. The chorus takes over and the ever-romantic recorder joins now playing in its usual shrill tone. The bass guitar and the rhythm guitar too show up now and then. A musical treat to be savoured gently without any interruption.

The lines in the CharaNams are etched with musical motifs and at the same time, are contemplative. These too create some special moments of solitude. Technically speaking, the prati madhyma(ma2) is used as a metaphor for viraha and this shows the brilliance of the composer(yet again).

The second interlude is a blend of delicacy and dexterity. The strings sound with regality. After a brief pause, the second set of strings replies gracefully. The tabla tarang enters now and sounds ‘ta ki ta/ ta ki ta/ ta ka’. Note that the percussion which has been there consistently from the Pallavi playing the pattern described earlier, is silent here. The interplay between the two sets of strings and the tabla tarang continues for 2 cycles.  The strings then repeat the same melody and this time the original two sets of percussion return with their pattern. The recorder plays a different melody even as the strings move. The chorus hums in lower octave with the stringed instrument playing the same melody played by the strings. It bubbles with emotional ripples.

Are we already melting like the Golden Sita?

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ILaiyaraaja- The Altruist

‘I did penance in my seven births. I am the only one to have done that. I sang verses in beautiful Tamizh for You. I am the only one. I am the greatest!!’

யானே தவம் செய்தேன், ஏழ்பிறப்பும், எப்பொழுதும்,
யானே தவம் உடையேன்; எம்பெருமான்! - யானே
இருந்தமிழ் நன் மாலை இணையடிக்கே சொன்னேன்,
பெருந்தமிழன் நல்லேன், பெரிது..

Thus sang Bhothath Aazhwar, one of the 12 vaishnavite saints.

Was he an egoist? Was he self-centred? How can somebody who calls himself as His devotee say like this? Isn’t it unbecoming of a saint?

All these questions are justified if one just takes a cursory look at the poem; if one does not know anything about Bhoothath aazhwar; if one has not read his works.

Let us now look at one more verse of his:

அருள்புரிந்த சிந்தை அடியார்மேல் வைத்து,

பொருள்தெரிந்து காண்குற்ற அப்போது, - இருள் திரிந்து

நோக்கினேன், நோக்கி, நினைத்தேன ஒண்கமலம்,

ஓக்கினேன் என்னையும் அங்கு ஓர்ந்து..

‘I was ignorant. He dispelled the darkness with His compassion and I looked at His magnificent figure, held His lotus-like feet and surrendered my soul completely. After all, do I have any other place to go?’

So, there he is- the one who realised the Supreme by surrendering himself.  He feels there is nothing more in that state which is beyond ecstasy. Totally content.  And isn’t that realisation because of the power of his penance? Read the first verse quoted, again (and again) and you will begin to see new meanings and finally the true meaning.

Bhoothath Aazhwar(7^th Century) who renounced the material world at a very early age composed 100 thiruvandadis which are part of the Naalayira Divya Prabandham(4000 verses composed by 12 aazhwars). Andadi is a form in which the ending word/syllable of a verse is the beginning word/syllable of the following verse. His hundredth verse ended with the word ‘anbu’ which is the beginning word of his first verse.

A brilliant scholar and a true saint!

How silly and foolish it would have been if he were to be judged based solely on the first verse quoted, without understanding his background, his works, his poetic sensibilities ,his skills, his devotion.

Aren’t we all reminded of something here?

How often do we see people without any knowledge about ILaiyaraaja’s works and the background, ridicule, sneer, scoff at, deride and badger him! Do they all know the value and significance of his music? Do they know that this kind of music is possible only by people who are truly blessed?

Geniuses are geniuses and if we cannot understand or comprehend what they say or what they do, the fault lies with us and not with them.

With these words, let us celebrate music with an exquisite composition of his on this special day.

Music aficionados know his proclivity to use classical ragas. What sets him apart is not just the usage but also the way he handles the ragas. It surely is not a difficult task to play a tune sticking to the same ascending/descending notes and anybody with a harmonium or a key board (or that ubiquitous thing called computer) can do this. But how far that tune is melodious or captivating is questionable. That is where the wheat is distinguished from the chaff.

For example, many composers have used the raga KeeravaNi. It has the same sa ri2 ga2 ma1 pa dha1 ni3 irrespective of whoever uses it. But how is it that the same chatushruti rishabham, sadhaaraNa gandharam, panchamam, shuddha dhaivatam and kaakali nishadam sound so beautiful when handled by him? Most importantly, how is it that each one of  his KeeravaNis (there are hundreds) is unique? It is the magic of music, yes, but it is the magic of the composer too.

If you have any doubt, listen to the song of the day and then the other KeervaNis.
What makes ‘Munnam Seidha Tavam’ from ‘Vanaja Girija’(1994) unique is the use of some unusual vakra prayogas and some beautiful ‘panchama varjya’( skipping the swara ‘pa’) phrases. As usual, his special laya pattern adds to the uniqueness. Let us look at some of the other aspects as well.

Breaking the 4 into 16 has been explained by me in some of the posts here. Chatushra ekam, a taaLa with 4-beat cycle is broken into 16 maatraas to be played by the percussion. Repeatedly, he has shown different patterns of playing this 16.

In ‘Munnam Seidha..’, it is played as

Ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi/ta ki ta/ta ki ta/ta ka
(4             /4                /3       /3        /2).

He improvises by giving more stress on the first syllables in the third and the fourth part( ‘ta’ in ‘ta ki ta/ta ki ta’). This pattern remains the same throughout - except for some phrases in the prelude and in the second interlude where there is no percussion.

A special bell sound appears in the prelude, first interlude and the second interlude and if one listens only to these continuously, one can make out a tune or a melody. In a way, it is like the leitmotif.

The chorus too plays a major role in the entire composition appearing subtly even in the Pallavi and in the CharaNams backing the main vocals. In fact, the prelude itself has a rendition by the chorus, a kind of mini-pallavi and the composition ends with the same words rendered again just like the one in the prelude.

Having seen some of the highlights, let us look at the composition as a whole from the beginning.

It starts with the16- beat percussion and this is played twice. The special bells sound appears after this percussive delight and lasts for 2 cycles. With the strings backing subtly, the chorus hums in lower octave and continues to hum for the next 8 cycles. This humming with subdued refinement has an elevating appeal. The bells sound and this humming give a divine ambience almost sounding like the ‘omkaara’.

The percussion stops briefly and the chorus renders the ‘pre-pallavi’.

The Pallavi glistens in the voices of Janaki and SPB.  When the latter renders the second half, it has an unusually calming effect. The chorus too backs the vocals now and then adding to the experience.

The feeling of calmness continues in the first interlude as the chorus hums with felicitous fluidity for 4 cycles. The flute joins during the fourth cycle and plays with a tonal subtlety.. This happens twice and the special bells sound joins and moves on with vigour and vibrancy. Exactly after 4 and half cycles, the well chiselled and intense strings join and play in higher octave showing the western contours of the raga in its own way. This process happens twice again and leads to the first charaNam.

The first part of the CharaNam is a façade of tranquillity. One also sees the brilliance of the composer when special sounds are given after ‘poovin meedhu thendRal vandhu modhuthe’ in the first charaNam. The second part-3^rd and the 4^th lines- is the passionate espousal of the beauties of the raga as we see the clear classical touches. The 4^th line has a brief sangati too. The following lines bring out some deep seated emotions with a couple of unusual prayogas.

 The humming of the chorus for one cycle after the first and the second lines and their backing the vocals in the 5^th and the 6^th lines are graceful. So is the backing of the strings.

The first line is rendered as ‘akaaram’ by Janaki before the second interlude with the brass flute blowing like a conch, making the experience more delightful.

The melodic instruments express themselves freely for 5 cycles in the second interlude as the percussion stops playing to watch this spectacle. The guitar plays with sobriety first. The flute then revels with some beautiful patterns with the ‘dhom tho dhom thom’ of the chorus and the folk- stringed instrument backing it. The strings go like a lightning and the western instrument repeats the notes of the flute. The bells sound takes over along with the percussion, relishingly nourishing the interlude.

Towards the end, there is another innovation. When the Pallavi is rendered finally, there is no percussion for the first two lines with the vocals being backed by the guitar and the bass guitar.

The ‘pre-pallavi’ is rendered by the chorus again, suggesting there is no end..

So, whose penance is it?

His penance in the previous births to give such divine music or is it also our penance to be immersed in it?

Think about it and keep thinking about it…



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ILaiyaraaja's Music and Emotions- VII- Humour II

The great Tamizh poet Avvaiyyar was once challenged by a passerby to identify the grass hidden inside his closed palm with intent to make fun of her.

The clever poet, who saw through it, sang thus:

எட்டேகால் லட்சணமே, எமனேறும் பரியே,
மட்டில் பெரியம்மை வாகனமே, - முட்டமேல்
கூரையில்லா வீடே, குலராமன் தூதுவனே,
ஆரையடா சொன்னாயடா!

In Tamizh, the number 8 is denoted as the first alphabet ‘அ’ (a) and quarter is denoted as ‘வ‌’ (va).So, the first part of the first line means ‘you ugly’. The vaahana of Yama is supposed to be a buffalo and that of ‘Jeshta devi’ also called as ‘Moodevi’ is donkey. After making him realise that he is after all like a buffalo and a donkey, the brilliant poet goes on to say that he is after all a small wall (kutti chuvar in Tamizh). After this she adds on to the list of animals and calls him as Monkey rather diplomatically this time (Rama’s messenger). The last line has many meanings. ‘aarai’ means the kind of ‘grass’ he was referring to. ’aaraiyada sonnaiyaada’ also means ‘whom are you talking to’ or in other words ‘how dare you tell me’. The last part of ‘sonnaai’ means a dog. .

Let us look at how this poem sounds:

‘You ugly, you Buffalo, you Donkey, you Monkey, are you challenging me?’

Poetic humour at its best! It also shows how assertive women were in Tamizh land during that time.

Sense of humour is an art by itself. Though we all are born with it, some of us (or should I say many of us?) lose it over a period of time. Rather we believe that it is lost. Nevertheless, unless there is a problem with our lower frontal lobes, all of us do have it though it is hidden somewhere deep inside in some of us and even a Google search may not be of any help. What will surely be of help is laughing out loud not just when situation demands but also when we are not upto it. How can Thiruvalluvar be wrong when he said  ‘இடுக்கண் வருங்கால் நகுக‌’ (smile during crisis).

Laughter activates our brain. Laughter gives us happiness. Laughter gives us peace.

Coming to think of it, music too has the same effect.

So, why don’t we look at a composition which while making us laugh also teaches a lesson or two about music itself?

I am saying ‘teaches’ because it is based on a pure classical ragam and listening to this, one wonders if this ragam can also be used in such a situation?

 Yadukulakambhoji is indeed an interesting ragam. The trinity of Carnatic Music-Saint Tyagaraja, Muththuswamy Dikshithar and Shyama Sastri- have all composed in this raga. In fact, Tyagaraja alone has composed 8 kritis while Dikshithar has composed the famous Navagraha kriti on Saturn in this raga.

Though it is considered to be a very classical raga, if one traces the routes, one will be amazed to know some facts. The raga is not very ancient as per the classical texts since it does not find a place in texts like Sangeeta Ratnakara. Musicologists consider that this raga must have originated around the 16^th Century. It is believed that a tribe by name ‘erugala’ sang Kambhoji with some variations and therefore it was called as ‘Erugala Kambhoji’ which finally became ‘Yadukula Kambhoji’. The raga following the same scale known as ‘Sevvazhi’ has also been there in Tamizhisai since time immemorial. All these historical facts go to show that the raga is of course old though it was adapted into the classical system much later. Sangeeta Sampradaya Pradarshini, considered to be the Bible by present day musicians and musicologists calls this raga as ‘erugala kambhoji’only.

The raga, a janya of Harikambhoji is audava-sampoorNa having 5 swaras in the arohaNa-dropping ‘ga’ and ‘ni’- and all the 7 in the avarohaNa. But this is a raga which can never be confined to a structure and goes by the prayogas. The swara ‘ma’ is multi-splendoured and it ranges from being very soft to being very sharp depending on the sanchaaraas.

This raga has been wonderfully used by the Maestro in a composition where humour runs as the undercurrent. ‘Oththaiyile ninnathenna’ from ‘Vanaja Girija’(1994) is a song which would never fail to bring   a smile on our faces whenever we listen to it. Rendered with consummate ease by Chitra, the composition shows the creativity and innovativeness of the composer yet again. I must add here that this is not the classical Yadukula Kambhoji-especially in the charaNams as it has more folksy touches. The composition also shows how the erugala tribe would have perceived Kambhoji to conceive Erugula Kambhoji.

The song starts with a kind of spontaneity so typical of a folk song. The first two lines are rendered without any percussion which in fact appears only after two avartanams. It is also an interesting combination with the guitar strumming the first two syllables ‘ta ka’ along with the folk rhythmic instrument. The third syllable is not played while the fourth syllable is played by the folk instrument alone. The folk instrument plays the next part but this time leaving the gap in the second syllable. That is the 8-beat adi taaLa is split into 16 maatras with 4 ‘ta ka dhi mi’s. The ‘dhi’ in the first ‘ta ka dhi mi’ and the ‘ka’ in the second one are left blank. This pattern which repeats itself adds to the folksy flavour of the tune.

It is Laya Raaja again towards the end of the Pallavi where he splits the 16 as 4 tisrams and 1 Chatushram.

The first interlude is alluring with a host of folk instruments and western instruments. A composer’s brilliance is shown not just in the choice of the instruments but also in the way these are handled and used. One can discern at least two different horn like instruments. While the first ones play with zeal and zest like a karma yogi, the second set plays with a flourish expanding further. In the second part, there are three different instruments-one a western electronic instrument, the second one a stringed folk instrument and the third one, a stringed western instrument sounding like a viola. As the first one plays a melody with depth and delicacy, the folk instrument interjects in the second half of the avartanam with the supple Viola-like instrument going on a trip of its own.

Immaculate!

The lines in the CharaNams with beauteous shades of folk music glow with a radiance. The first two lines with a couple of higher octave notes are charming while the third and the fourth lines give a wonderful mix of folk and classical with subtle sangatis. The following two lines are reposeful. Note that the percussion plays all the syllables without any gap.

Melody flows like a steady stream in the second interlude. First we have the snappy folk piped instrument. The synthesizer which almost mimics a human voice responds with vitality. We feel the air of serenity even as the folk instruments shine with iridescence.

In the end, as the Pallavi is rendered again, the 4 tisrams  in ‘Vaai thuNaikku pecchu tharava’ add lustre.

It is a journey with élan and abandon with a dash of innocence.

After all, is this not what life all about?


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