Let the notes flow and engulf us in soothing harmony

A few days ago, on November 27, when I performed at Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, Mylapore, the auditorium was jam packed. Two rasikas were heard telling each other, “The season has started, thank God. Finally, we can look forward to some good notes.” While the rasika referred to musical notes, (sa, re ga, ma, pa etc), someone else quipped, “We are all tired of the harsh demonetisation notes and we deserve good music to enrich us.” Cyclone Vardah also hit us a few days back, compounding the demonetisation blues.

Yes, demonetisation has been in the air for a few weeks now, and many musicians like me were hoping for a better season this year, considering how last year went. 

December 2015 changed all of us in significant ways. Usually a month of joy and bliss, where people socialise far more, and art and culture greeting you at every turn, the rains and the resultant floods left everyone too battered and bruised. As people suffered, performing arts took a hit last year. This year, the stress levels have their origins in demonetisation. While everyone is happy to help root out corruption, not a single person has been left untouched by the demonetisation drive. Be it the rasikas, sabhas, performers or tourists, everyone has a story to tell ,of a different kind of hardship this year. Whenever people suffer, music is a fantastic healer, a great agent of lifting up of one’s dropping spirits.This is what we need this December. 

There is a huge lineup of programmes this year, and rasikas should come forth and enjoy the aural treat. In 2014, Chennai witnessed over 3,000 concerts and it will be nothing short of that this year, I am told. I myself have 14 concerts spread over 35 days.

As someone who has performed for over 30 years, I can say with authority that the growth of an artiste relies not only on her talent, ability and self-improvement tools, but also on the rasikas. Their contribution is a vital part of one’s growth. The effect their appreciation, reciprocation and informed criticism has on an emerging artist cannot be measured. I have received consistent support from the time I began giving concerts at the noon time slot, before progressing, by stages, to the prime time kutchery. Many rasikas would follow me from one concert to another, as I graduated, and stayed through my journey to reach where I have reached today. Other musicians have a similar story, where a group of dedicated music lovers sabha- hopped to be present at their concerts. 

In the past, these dedicated rasikas used to nod their head in approval or shake it in disapproval or simply pause while putting the talam and it would be a cue for singers to quickly examine in real time if one was offkey or if an accompanist was not in tune or if the choice of a song was not up to the mark. Today, younger rasikas interact with musicians directly in person, or on social media. It is a great way to connect with them. In fact, many youngsters ask us to post our schedules on social media, based on which they make their own plans. 

Expectations of the rasikas have evolved, which is only natural. Musicians too want to rise to the challenge and thematic presentations are gaining ground. For example, I have been asked to render a concert on women composers. This calls for some research, because one sang an occasional Ambujam Krishna song and left it at that. For this specific concert this season, I went back to the time of Avvaiyar and traced female composers over the centuries. 

Sometimes, a rasika will send up a request slip asking the singer to render a rare raga, and that makes you flip your mental files quickly. Exploring a RPT ( ragam, talam, pallavi ) in complex talams is another rasika request that we all expect in the season. Today, performers also add a feisty tukkada number in order to cater to the young-gens (generation). 

We are often asked if all rasikas understand our music. If you take a popular sport—say Test cricket—in an audience of 2,000, you will find 500 to be extremely well informed, who can compare every stroke or every ‘wicket turn’ from the time of Ranjit Singh. The rest are happy to watch the action unfold, or watch their favourite player perform. Similar is the case with the Margazhi season. Some come for the nuances of Carnatic music, many come for the melody, some arrive wanting the vibrancy or the particular quality of a performer.

This eclectic mix is good, because it helps us artistes to appeal to so many different people. And every season is a fresh challenge for us, no matter how seasoned a performer each one of us is. 

I have taken music to a number of schools, ranging from Corporation to government schools. Not one of them had watched a performance in a sabha. Yet, they enjoyed my concert and they said they loved it. Children in many schools are not exposed to music. Our music lacks inclusiveness, but with the right plan, it can reach thousands of children. Another group that is left out are the prison inmates. I have performed in Puzhal prison for two years. The first time I gave a performance, they cried. Music is a great healer and touches everyone.

I have had the opportunity to meet the late Chief Minister Jayalalithaa three times. She was always very warm and very receptive. She fondly recollected my guru ML Vasanthakumari and her music. I could sense the artiste in her and how easily she bonded with artistes. She showed me to a chair, made me sit down, chatted me up and turned the event—which was to hand over a check for cyclone victims on behalf of Samudhaaya Foundation—into a pleasant one. When she asked if there was anything I needed, I requested a letter of blessing from her for the Sangita Kalanidhi coffee table book. She immediately called her secretary and set it in motion. Within a couple of days I got a call from her office saying the letter was ready.

She also told me she has listened to my songs. “I like what you do,” she said. When I invited her to attend my kutchery, she said, “I would love to, but you know the constraints, the hectic work I have.”

On another occasion, she wanted to know my age and when I told her, “What? Really? You do not look your age at all.” After I was conferred the Padma Bhushan, her Chief Secretary said she wanted to meet me. It was scheduled, and postponed, not once but three times. I feel bad I never got to meet her after receiving the Padma Bhushan. 

Her passing away is a great loss to the artistes community and the state as well. At a time when she was aspiring to do much more for the state—things had started to roll, you could see that— it is sad that she is no more.

Raga: Whatever I sing on a particular day is my favourite raga. A Kanthamani, a Thodi, anything that creates an emotional connect with my audience 

My colour: Pinks, blues and whatever looks good onstage. I avoid dull tones, black etc., because I feel they don’t suit me. I avoid very flashy colours

Sabha: Each one has a special memory. Krishna Gana Sabha for MLV (my guru) morning concert. Music Academy for the majestic ambience, Narada Gana Sabha for the lingering air of bhakti. It’s impossible to choose one over the other. All are unique.