Thursday, 30 April 2020

ILaiyaraaja- The Inspiring Musician


Nothing can be more comforting than the thought of being in a comfort zone.

Well, that applies to people who are happy and content with what they do; for people who do not get disturbed -or rather do not want to get disturbed - by the status quo; for people to whom the word ‘challenge’ is an anathema; for people who do the same things again and again in the same way always.

But people who love the word ‘challenges’, are different. They love being challenged and if nobody challenges them, they challenge themselves. They look at the same things differently. They look for inner meanings in almost everything. The word ‘superficial’ does not find an entry in their dictionary, while the word ‘deep’ is found in block letters.

           KaaLidasa was one such poet. One day, he was challenged by somebody, not for debating but for composing a poem with the letters- tha tham tha tham tham
tha tha  tham tha tham tha(note that it is the fourth ‘tha’(ठ).

He came up with this:

रामाभिषेके जलमाहरन्त्याः
हस्ताच्च्युतो हेमघटो युवत्याः
सोपानमार्गेण करोति शब्दम्
ठ ठं ठ ठं ठं ठ ठ ठं ठ ठं ठः

Ramabhisheke Jalamahrantya
Hastaachyuto hemaghato yuvatya
SopaanamaargaN karoti shabdam
Tha tham tha tham tham tha tha tham tha tham tham.

During the coronation of  Rama at Ayodhya, women with golden vessel went to
fetch water. One vessel slipped out of the hand of the maiden and it tumbled
down the steps making the sound- Tha tham tha tham tham tha tha tham tha
tham tham.

          This goes to show that sky is the limit for the creativity of a genius and that the best comes out of them, when challenged. That is why, a true genius loves challenges not just because they are challenged but also because they consider challenges as not challenging. On the contrary, they consider it as an opportunity.

          Once ILaiyaraaja faced a very challenging situation.. After composing a song and writing notes for the orchestra, he found that musicians who played the strings (violin, viola, cello) were not available on the day of the recording as they had already committed playing elsewhere. So, he replaced the string section with mandolin section. He called different mandolin players (14, if I am not wrong) and made them play.

           And the output was incredible.

          ‘Pudiya Poovidu’ from ‘ThendRale Ennai Thodu’(1985) has many more highlights, but this is the topmost highlight, something like the ‘Headlines’in a newspaper. Based on Suddha Dhanyasi, the composition has that romantic slant not least because of the beats, about which we shall see soon.

          The beginning is like a glacier. The guitar strums gradually with just the percussion sounding the tisram beats- ta ki ta- in the faster mode. The second guitar starts strumming now and the duo moves with an insouciant grace. Enter the heroes now. The different mandolins vivisected by the bass guitar, bristle with melody and make an organic progression.

          The flute and the keys-which sound like flute and yet sound differently- make it more soft and sensitive while the mandolins follow with a determined countenance and play ‘ta ka dhi mi ta ka’- tisram broken down into 6 micro beats- even as the piquant percussion continues to play ‘ta ki ta’ in its own inimitable style.

          The Pallavi in the voice of SPB and Janaki is multi layered. First we have the mid-octave swaras ,pa ni sa. The mandra swaras(lower octave notes) ni. and pa. combine to give a different feel. The janta swaras (2 together) mapa gama pani complete the experience..well almost, because with this composer, nothing can end so easily. Here it is he echo- effect and the pause which give a feeling which is indescribable.

          And this is just one layer. If you remember, I mentioned about the beats in the beginning. The tabla plays the tisram beats in a unique way. 3 is divided into 12 micro-beats here and the stress is given only on the 6th, 7th and the 10th beats.

          The piquant percussion meanwhile continues playing ‘ta ki ta’ with the bass guitar playing with a sense of equanimity while the mandolin group moves up like the waves in the sea.

         All these combine to make it a spectacular sight. Who said music is just aural anyway?
         Laya Raaja enters again in the first interlude making the tabla tarang (tuned tabla) dance gracefully in Suddha Dhanyasi with the mandolins nodding in appreciation. The latter take over splitting into two sets and playing two different sets of notes. This is just like how he makes two different sets of strings overlap each other. But see how a small change in instruments makes a difference to everything-from sound to feeling.

         The tabla-with its unique beats- the other percussion and the bass guitar continue to back the two sets of mandolins until the mandolins give way to the guitar and the flute. Now only the piquant percussion and the bass guitar back these two which of course play two different notes, at times even an alien note or two which make it more attractive.

          The jump from pa to the upper Sa followed by a glide in the first two lines, the sudden lower octave ni. in the third line(mayakkamallavo), the sudden appearance and disappearance of the alien note (ga3) in the following line and the echo effect in the last line, give the CharaNams, depth, resonance and most importantly an unmatched elegance.

          We involuntarily begin to sway in the beginning of the second interlude when the guitar plays softly with the percussion backing it. The mandolins are at work again. I can even call it as ‘Mandarin’ as one sees the contours of South East Asian Music here. One set of mandolins moves lugubriously giving ornate images. The other set sounds now and then with an energetic swirl.

          The tabla now joins playing those unique beats even as the mandolins romance with the keys with flourish and buoyancy. It even seems as if the instruments are giving a mystical smile..

           ...like the golden vessel which made a musical sound when it tumbled down the stairs!




        
         
          

Wednesday, 18 March 2020

ILaiyaraaja - The Illusionist


Either Black or White?
Either Left of Right?
There is Something Called Grey
Which is the Middle Way.

This ‘poem’(that is if you can call it that way) was written by me some time ago. Whether one can call this a poem or not may not be relevant here, though what may be relevant is the thought I have tried to convey through this. In a world where binaries have become the norm, space for other numbers(read as ‘thoughts’ and ‘opinions’) is getting reduced by the day. The fact that there could be something ‘in between’is not understood or appreciated by many. But even for argument sake, if  we assume that there can only be ‘either this or that’, is not possible for ‘this’ to become ‘that’ and vice versa?

Far from making you confused, my intention is to make you think.

Now, look at this verse:



புகழ்வோம் பழிப்போம்; புகழோம் பழியோம்;
இகழ்வோம் மதிப்போம்; மதியோம், இகழோம்; மற்று
எங்கள் மால்! செங்கண் மால்! சீறல் நீ, தீவினையோம்
எங்கள் மால் கண்டாய் இவை.
Written by the great Tamizh poet Nammaazhwar, this verse is full of contradictions. Or is it?

Let us see what he says:

Addressing the Lord- who he calls as the One who loves us all- the Aazhawar first says – ‘I shall praise You’ and immediately follows it up with ‘I shall despise You’. In the same line, he says, ‘I shall not praise You, nor shall I despise You’. If this is not confounding enough, he continues in the next line- ‘I shall insult You, I shall respect You’ and ‘I shall not respect You nor shall I insult You’. Probably realizing that the Lord himself will be confused now, he says,’ Oh, don’t be angry now’ and finally says ‘All this because of the extreme affection I-who is a sinner- have for You’.
Note that the genius poet that he is, Nammazhwar says ‘You have extreme affection for me. So do I’. But let us see the inherent ‘contradictions’. If the first two phrases are contrasts, the phrases that follow are neutral. Same is the case with the second line. 

But why does he say ‘I won’t praise you’? It is because ‘if I praise You, it means I am praising the One who is beyond all praise and by doing this am I not insulting You? So if I don’t praise You, doesn’t it mean I am not despising You? But if I don’t praise you, wouldn’t it mean I am insulting You? And this duality is because of my extreme Love for you’.

Well, I know it is laced with spirituality with a dash of philosophy, but aren’t these two the sides of the same coin? Or are they different?

Even as we keep thinking about this, let us understand that there can be no life without the concept of duality. And that is the most beautiful aspect of life.

It is of course the beautiful aspect of music too. And without a doubt, this gets reflected in the works of genius music composers.

As I keep saying in my posts, there is poetry in everything. And what we see in ILaiyaraaja’s music is poetry at its best. Let us now see a classic example of duality in his music.

‘Vaanile Thaenila’ from ‘Kaakki Sattai’(1985) may not sound like a song based purely on a classical raga as it is a romantic duet in a tricky situation which is laced with the villain chasing the duo. But not only does the composer follow a classical raga to a T, but also he applies a classical technique in between. And he does this without not many noticing it and without not many being  even aware of it.
But isn’t it true that beauty lies in the unspoken?

The composition is based on Chakravaagam, a raga known for its melancholic touches. So, by saying that the composer used a technique, did I mean this- that is using a melancholic raga for a romantic duet?

Not at all, because if you know ILaiyaraaja well and if you have been following the posts here, you know that he is known for giving us such surprises without in anyway spoiling the grammar of the raga(s).

What then is that technique?

Let us see the composition from the beginning as the surprise happens somewhere in the middle.

The distortion guitar and the electric guitar vie with each other to produce a rather funny sound. If these smirk and then smile, the keys that follow with the guitar(s) in the background produce an impromptu sound which no doubt is pleasing and fragrant. It is then the turn of the saxophone and the strings to romance together by playing two separate melodies evoking some unknown emotions and feelings inside us. The bass guitar combines with the bells and how beautiful does it sound!

The Pallavi in the voices of SPB and Janaki, with the bass guitars in the background and the percussion sounding 4 ‘ta ki ta’s with the last ‘ta ki ta’ alone sounding sharp, is a compendium of melody to say the least.

The higher - octave strings sing like a cuckoo while the saxophone responds like a new unknown species of birds, in the first interlude. The second time this happens, the flute enters, slides and glides. The strings continue the journey with the dulcet flute following them with its unique sound. The guitar makes the atmosphere livelier with its resonance and the strings acknowledge this. The two different flutes- Indian and Western- show unity in diversity and prove that after all , it is music which can unite everyone.

Now, there is a twist. And if you recall my earlier introduction, this is the twist I was talking about. Keeping the swara ‘ma’ of Chakravaagam as the base (sa), the composer changes the raga to Sarasangi. People who follow the posts here closely , know that this technique is called as Graha Bhedam and that ILaiyaraaja is the only film music composer to have used this technique extensively and prolifically in film music.

So the first four lines follow Sarassangi while the last two lines revert to Chakravaagam. If this is not depicting Duality, what else is?

And the fact that this happens in a trice, speaks volumes of the genius of the composer.
The lines in the CharaNams have that touch of poignancy which makes it all the more enjoyable.

Poignant glides are seen in the second interlude as well when the strings move like a stream towards the end. But before this, we see the harmony between the male and the female voices with the former humming a melody in the mid-octave and the latter a different melody-albeit in the same raga- in the higher octave. And in the first segment of the interlude, we have the joyful saxophone combining with the grim faced bass guitar and the neutral bells with the drums playing in mel-kaalam.

Black, White, Grey..
Praise, Despise, Neutral..
Life…Music..





Wednesday, 13 November 2019

ILaiyaraaja - The Metaphysical Musican


Philosophy is an interesting subject.

I know by making this statement I would earn the wrath and ire of a majority. Some would look at me with a sardonic smile. Some would even call me as a person out of his mind. And some would look at me as if they were looking at an alien.
But in spite of all these, I prefer to stick to my statement.

It is often said and believed that people take recourse to philosophy only when they are at their wits end and then people become philosophical when they have no other options left in life. That is, philosophy is considered to be an escapist route. People who take to philosophy are even branded as pessimists.

But unlike popular perception, it is philosophy which shows us a path and gives us a purpose for everything. A simple definition of Philosophy in a dictionary suggests that it is the study of fundamental knowledge, reality and existence and an attitude that acts as a guiding principle for behaviour.

People who consider philosophy as being complex must listen to/read this line by KaNNadasan:

தத்துவத்தில் என்றும் இல்லை தகராறு- Philosophy is indisputable.

A poet known for his phenomenal work on philosophy in film songs and who wrote simple words like வாழ்க்கை என்பது வியாபாரம், வரும் ஜனனம் என்பது வரவாகும், அதில் மரணம் என்பது செலவாகும்- Life is just a business, with birth being the income and death being the expense- surely knows what philosophy means, better than most of us.

Now, sample this:

பிறந்தன இறக்கும், இறந்தன பிறக்கும்;
தோன்றின மறையும், மறைந்தன தோன்றும்;
பெருத்தன சிறுக்கும், சிறுத்தன பெருக்கும்;
உணர்ந்தன மறக்கும், மறந்தன உணரும்.
புணர்ந்தன பிரியும், பிரிந்தன புணரும்.

What is born, will die; what is dead will be born;
What is seen, will vanish; what vanishes will be seen again;
Big will become small; small will become big;
What is felt, will be forgotten; what is forgotten will be felt;
United will separate; separated will unite.

Well, this was not by KaNNadasan but by Pattinaththar, considered to be Siddhar in the Tamizh land.

The verse, though seeming to be simple, has layers and layers to it. It, in a way defines philosophy itself.

Stating the obvious and going beyond the obvious- Is this not philosophy all about?
If I say ILaiyaraaja is philosophical, I will be stating the obvious. Well, I mean not only him as a person but also him as a musician. And this surely gets reflected in his works. Who can compose Nila Kayudhu in the same breath as Janani Janani unless he has a philosophical outlook to everything including music?

The composition being taken up today is steeped in philosophy and this does not have to with the lyrics alone which of course are philosophical (penned by him).
Kaali Perungaaya Dabba from Mandira Punnagai(1986), rendered by the Master himself smiles at us with simplicity. However, what make it more philosophical is the raga and the way it has been used.

Rishabhapriya is a melakarta(62nd) and despite being the prati madhyama counterpart of a very popular ragam called Charukesi, it is not as popular as its counterpart. In Carnatic music, there are only a handful of kritis in this ragam and needless to say this ragam was never used in film music until the gentleman from an obscure village near Kambam in Tamizh Nadu decided to use it. In fact, even after this, there have been no compositions based on this ragam in film music.

The name of the ragam itself is unique. Rishabham means a Bull.. As per Hindu mythology, it is the Vaahana of Lord Shiva. So, it could mean that ‘the one liked by Shiva’. Rishabh also means one who has an aura like a sage. Moreover, Nandi, Shiva’s Vaahana is considered to be a person full of wisdom.

By saying all these, I am not trying say that ILaiyaraaja must have thought of all these before tuning the song in this ragam. At the same time, I am also not ruling the possibility of this happening. Does he not think at the speed of light?
The scale Rishabhapriya is unique for one more reason too. If one drops the swara pa from the scale, it becomes a raga called Gopriya( note that Go in Sanskrit means the cow, the feminine form of Rishabh) and the notes are equally separated in frequency, which in Western Classical parlance is called as a Whole Tone scale.

I do not want to go beyond this now and would rather prefer to focus on the composition for obvious reasons.

The composition starts without a prelude with the Master singing the first line sans percussion. The Pallavi is in fact crafted brilliantly with the first four lines totally avoiding the swara ma. As mentioned earlier, it is the variant of ma which distinguishes Rishabhapriya from Charukesi.The swara ma occurs in the last line whose construction is brilliant again with the grouping of similar swaras-papapapapa mamamamama gagagagaga.

The mandolin and the keys, which occur after the first line is rendered in the beginning, sound with a sense of purpose.

The mandolin and the saxophone have a friendly banter in the first interlude with the former dancing with joy in the beginning and the latter giving a heightened response. The mandolin then responds with sobriety as if to provide a contrast.

What is philosophy without contrasting elements?

The lines in the CharaNams follow a pattern. The first four lines start with pa dha while the last line starts with ga dha. At the same time, there are some random combinations as well.

Is there a pattern in our life or is there randomness or is it a combination of both?

The flute which is interposed between the lines evokes sensibility.

The keys in the beginning of the second interlude sound with a sense of poignancy which transmogrifies as a sense of happiness and then even humour as a funny sound is added. The saxophone takes some silky glides with the flute responding piquantly. The mandolin-guitar combination moves with unobtrusive energy. The bass strings of the guitar resonate in the end with the bells giving a divine spiritual shade.

Philosophy of Life!

The xylophone in the third interlude sounds with vigour and yet with an inherent calmness with the long flute replying briefly. The single violin then moves with finesse. Is it glum? Or is it calm? The xylophone enters again after the violin traverses a circle. The flute responds. Is it plaintive? Or is it meditative?

Is it simple or is it labyrinthine?

Or is it just stating the obvious?

Philosophy is a question as well as an answer!


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Wednesday, 4 September 2019

ILaiyaraaja- The Truth –seeking Musician


How beautiful is this world?

Is this an easy question to answer? Like most of the things in our life, the answer to this question too will be subjective. As the popular adage goes- Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. One can even keep expanding this saying, Beauty lies in the heart, in the ears, in the mind and so on..

But how does this statement sound to you- Everything in this world is beautiful. Isn’t this statement profound and deep?

Rather than choosing to agree or disagree with the statement, let us look at a poem:

இவ்வுலகம் இனியது. இதிலுள்ள வான் இனிமையுடைத்து.
காற்றும் இனிது. தீ இனிது.நீர் இனிது.நிலம் இனிது.
ஞாயிறு நன்று; திங்களும் நன்று.
வானத்துச் சுடர்களெல்லாம் மிக இனியன.
மழை இனிது, மின்னல் இனிது, இடி இனிது.
கடல் இனிது, மலை இனிது, காடு நன்று
ஆறுகள் இனியன.
உலோகமும், மரமும் செடியும், கொடியும்,
மலரும் காயும், கனியும் இனியன.
பறவைகள் இனியவை.ஊர்வனவும் நல்லன.
விலங்குகளெல்லாம் இனியவை.
நீர் வாழ்வனவும் நல்லன.
மனிதர் மிகவும் இனியர். ஆண் நன்று.பெண் இனிது.
குழந்தை இன்பம். இளமை இனிது.முதுமை நன்று.
உயிர் நன்று. சாதல் இனிது.

It is one thing to say ‘The world is beautiful’, but quite another to quote each and every element, each and every being, each and everything in this world and say it is beautiful. Here, the poet even goes to the extent of saying ‘Life is good. Dying is sweet.’ Leave alone writing, it is impossible to imagine like this unless the person has seen, felt and experienced the philosophy of life. Is he not the same one who also wrote, தீக்குள் விரலை வைத்தால் நந்தலாலா, நின்னை தீண்டும் இன்பம் தோன்றுதடா, நந்தலாலா- if I place my finger in the fire, I feel the pleasure of touching you!

It is not for nothing that this poet is called as the Mahakavi. He saw the Divine in everything, and that is why the world and everything in the world looked beautiful to him. And this made him explore the world more. If something is so beautiful, is there not a reason for that? Or do certain things exist beyond reason?

Bharati explored the world of poetry by not only composing poems in a multitude of subjects, but also in different forms. The poem quoted first was the first ‘vachana kavithai’-that is, poetry in the form of prose- in Tamizh. This evolved as ‘Pudhu Kavithai’ in the latter half of the 20th century.

Why do people explore? Is it because of the adventurous streak in them? Or is it because of the fact that they love something so much that they explore it more?
If in Bharati’s case, it was poetry, in the case of ILaiyaraaja, it is music. But again, isn’t it a fact that poetry and music are closely related? Bharati’s poems are poetically musical while ILaiyaraaja’s music is musically poetic. This in a way is not different from a statement made by a very famous dancer and a scholar long ago which went something like this- ‘I listen to dance and I see music’!

Getting back to ILaiyaraaja, his proclivity for music and his propensity for exploring and experimenting with its different forms are not unknown to people who follow him and his music arduously. However, how this gets reflected in his works is not known to many.

With his firm grounding in classical music, he has used and in fact continues to use many ragas. But this is a natural occurrence and unlike what is believed by a section, he does not ‘choose’ a raga. On the other hand, the raga chooses him. This may appear to be far-fetched on the face of it, but people who have seen him work will vouch for this statement.

As mentioned in many of my posts, no other film music composer has used ragas as prolifically and differently. Some of his compositions follow ragas hitherto not used by any musician. In the past Events, we have seen at least 2 very rare ragas. The special song of the day too follows a very rare raga.

The Carnatic System of music is one of the most organized systems in the world and if I may draw a parallel, I can compare it with the Periodic Table system devised by Mendeleev, though the systems are totally different. There are essentially 72 meLa ragas, called as parent ragas, and other ragas are born from these. While it is necessary and even mandatory for the parents to have all the seven swaras, the same rule does not apply to the children. There are of course 3 variants of four swaras, 2 variants of one swara and no variants of two swaras. The permutation and combination of each of these swara variants give us the parent ragas.

The intention of giving such basic details is surely not to confound you, but only to make you understand the basics which would help in understanding and appreciating other technical details.

Let us just take two parent ragas –KiravaNi and Gowrimanohari. It is the variant of the swara ‘dha’ which distinguishes the two. Now what happens if that ‘dha’ is totally dropped? It of course becomes a raga with 6 swaras, but how will it sound? Like KiravaNi or like Gowrimanohari?

Whether this thought occurred to ILaiyaraaja or not, is tough to say. But surely the child in him would have wanted to experiment with this and explore it further.
And thus was born the raga and concomitantly, the tune. This raga which goes by the name ‘Rishipriya’ sounds as beautiful as its name itself. Though there is no carnatic composition in this raga, long ago I read somewhere that the Carnatic music legend Madurai Somu had indeed composed and sung in this raga though little is known about the composition now.

ILaiyaraaja might or might not have been aware of this, but this is not as relevant as what he has done with this raga.

Needless to say the special song of the 12th version of Geetanjali follows this raga. The beauty in ‘Udayam Neeye’ from the film ‘En Arugil Nee Irundhaal ( 1991) lies not just in the raga, but in the way it is used. It has no prelude.

Did I say ‘No’?

No, I must correct myself. It has no instrumental prelude. But when there is a voice which is more beautiful than any known or unknown instrument, does one need an instrument at all?

If I said the prelude is the quintessence of melody, I wouldn’t be exaggerating. The ‘akaaram’ which reminds one of Gowrimanohari or probably even its Hindustani counterpart Patdeep, has space and width and yet flows like a stream. It is simple and powerful without crossing into the realms of flamboyance.

The Pallavi in the anaagada eduppu-  that is, vocals starting after the beginning of the taaLa cycle- is unpretentious and unobtrusive. The keys give a subtle melody following the vocals and this is enough to warm the cockles of our hearts. The percussion, which joins only after a while, sounds pristinely beautiful too.

This composition has more than one speciality. The composer is well-known for his orchestration, arrangement and for his penchant for giving some unique sounds with many instruments. But in this composition, the number of instruments can be counted with just one hand. Didn’t somebody say ‘Simple things are also the most extraordinary things’?

What is extraordinary in this composition is the flute. This wind instrument sounds a simple melody to start with in the first interlude, giving contours of Hindustani form with the pair of tablas backing it with gusto. It is then virtuosic even as it touches a slew of mid-octave notes. It then whorls, giving a convoluted pattern and this does not fail to pierce our hearts and stir our souls.

One cannot not expect sudden twists and turns if he/she follows this composer. The gentleman known for his predilection for variety and for exploration of beauty, stops the percussion here and gives a totally different complexion to the raga by bringing in a couple of guitars and the keys. The vivacity is mind blowing. The flute enters again towards the end and gives a saintly smile with adoration writ on its countenance.

The flute peeps in again but this time very briefly at the end of every alternate line in the first half of the CharaNams, which is woven with melodic threads. All the lines in the CharaNams are laced with clarity, eloquence and classism showing us some different dimensions of this rarely heard raga.

The exploration of beauty continues in the second interlude. The flute swirls. It is plaintive. The flute spirals. It is poignant. The flute pirouettes. It is euphoric. The flute flows. It is ecstatic.

Pain and Pleasure- Isn’t the world beautiful?

PS: This post was written exclusively for 'Geetanjali', an Event dedicated to ILaiyaraaja and his music held annually since the year 2008, and was read to an invited audience on the 1st of September in Chennai. The Tamizh post about the same song but giving a different perspective is also available in the previous post in this blog.