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 Carnatic Music
Carnatic music
Carnatic music (known as कर्णाटक सङ्गीत in Sanskrit, ಕರ್ನಾಟಕ ಸಂಗೀತ in Kannada, കര്ണാടക സംഗീതം in Malayalam, கருநாடக இசை in Tamil, కర్నాటక సంగీతం in Telugu) is the form of Indian classical music that had its origins in South India. This is one of the world's oldest and richest musical traditions. Compositions in Carnatic music are always monophonic (and hence melodic) in form, and are usually performed with improvised variations. Also, to a greater degree than in most other styles of music (including Hindustani), the main emphasis is on vocal music; most compositions are written to be sung, and even when played on instruments, they are meant to be performed in a singing style (known as gāyaki). Almost all songs are devotional in nature, being addressed to one of the many Hindu deities. As with all Indian classical music, Carnatic music rests on two two main elements: , the modes or melodic formulæ, and , the rhythmic cycles.
Origins To point to one period of history or one ancient form of music as the source of Carnatic Music is something that can never be justified as an absolute truth. However, there have been many evolutionary changes that occurred in the development of this art form. Historical records have helped us realise just some of these interesting patterns that emerge as a result of such changes.
Like all art forms in Indian culture, Carnatic Music is believed to have a divine origin – Carnatic Music is believed to have originated from God. Its natural origins come from ancient treatise that describe the connection of the origin of swaras to the sounds of animals and birds, the sound emanating from a bamboo reed as air passes through its hollows, and man’s keen sense of observation and perception that tried stimulating these sounds. In other words, man’s ability to distinguish between different sound frequencies, qualities, and timbre, are undoubtedly an important factor in the development of Carnatic Music. Also believed to be a natural origin, is folk music, which many consider is the one source that has affected the structure of Carnatic Music. Certain folk tunes correspond to Carnatic melodies or Ragas like Anandhabhairavi, Bhairavi, Senchurutti, Punnagavarali, Nadanamakriya, Sindhubhairavi, Yadukulakambhoji, and so on.
From Vedas The Vedas have been generally accepted to constitute the probable source of the development of Indian music into the sophisticated system it is today. Knowledge has been encompassed by the use of the word, Veda. Dedicated to Gods, Goddesses and Hindu Rituals, the thousands of hymns in the Vedas were passed down from generation to generation, by oral tradition. The Sama Veda is said to have laid the foundation for Indian music, and consists mainily of hymns of Rigveda, set to musical tunes, and would be sung using three to seven musical notes during Vedic sacrifices, sometimes accompanied by an instrument. The Yajur-Veda, which mainly consists of sacrificial formulae, mentions the as an accompaniment to vocal recitations during the sacrifices.
As well as in the Sama Veda, there are references in the Puranas, Brahmanas and Upanishads to music and musical instruments. Epics like the Ramayana (circa 40BC) and Mahabharatha, also have some references to music. Bharata’s Natya Shastra (dated between 100 BCE and 200 CE) mentions many musical concepts that continue to be relevant to Carnatic Music today.
Telugu Language in Carnatic Music
Though Tamil Nadu has been the cultural center of the Carnatic music tradition, most of the song texts and writings are in Telugu. This is because the existing tradition is to a great extent an outgrowth of the musical life of the principality of Thanjavur in the Kaveri delta. Thanjavur was the heart of the Chola dynasty (from the 9th century to the 13th), but in the second quarter of the 16th century a Nāyak viceroy was appointed by the emperor at Vijayanagar, thus establishing a court whose language was Telugu. Telugu Nayaka rulers acted as the governors in the present day Tamil Nadu area with headquarters at Tanjavur (1530-1674) and Madurai (1530-1781) during Vijaynagar empire. After the collapse of Vijaynagar, Tanjavur Nayakas became independent ruled for the next 150 years until they were replaced by Maratha kings. This was also a period where several learned Telugu families from the North, fleeing drought and Muslim persecution, came and settled down in Thanjavur. Telugu, a language ending with vowels, giving it a mellifluous quality, was also considered suitable for musical expression. Of the trinity composers, Tyāgarāja's and Śyāma Śāstri's compositions were largely in Telugu, while Muttusvāmi Dīkstar is noted for his Sanskrit texts. Tyāgarāja is remembered both for his devotion and the bhāva of his krithi, a song form consisting of pallavi, (the first section of a song) anupallavi (a rhyming section that follows the pallavi) and caranam (a sung stanza; serves as a refrain for several passages the composition). The texts of his kriti are all, with a few exceptions in Sanskrit, in Telugu (the contemporary language of the court), and this use of a living language, as opposed to Sanskrit, the language of ritual, is in keeping with the bhakti ideal of the immediacy of devotion. Sri Syama Sastri, the oldest of the trinity, was taught Telugu and Sanskrit by his father, who was the pūjāri (Hindu priest) at the Kāmāks temple in Thanjavur. Śyāma Śāstri's texts were largely composed in Telugu, widening their popular appeal. Some of his most famous compositions include the nine krithi, Navaratnamālikā, in praise of the goddess Mīnāks at Madurai, and his eighteen krithi in praise of Kāmāks. As well as composing krithi, he is credited with turning the svarajati, originally used for dance, into a purely musical form.
Ancient Tamil music
Tamil works like Silapathikaram (dated between 200 CE and 400 CE), Tolkāppiyam and other Sangam literature works describe how a modal shift of tone (shifting the reference Shadja) from an existing scale can develop new scales. These works also give archaic Tamil names for the seven notes in the octave. The concept of Pann relates to the modern Raga in Ancient Tamil music. The rhythmic meters found in several sacred musical forms like Thevaram, Thiruppugazh, etc., resemble the talas that are in use today . Due to this some scholars believe that Tamil music was also an important contributor from which current Carnatic Music is derived .
Etymology of Carnatic music
The word Carnatic came to represent the South Indian Classical Music as a separate system of music, after the Sangita Ratnakara of Sarngadeva (1210-1247). A clear demarcation between Hindustani music and Carnatic music as two different forms of Indian classical music is seen around the latter half of the 14th century. Classical Indian music flourished in the southern capital cities, particularly in Vijayanagara and Tanjavur. A number of musical treatises describing the concepts of Carnatic music were written. The present form of Carnatic music is based on historical developments that can be traced to the 15th - 16th AD and thereafter. History
The Vedic rishi Yajnavalkya (compiler of Sukla Yajur Veda) says in his Yajnavalkya Smriti: “Veena vadhana tathvangna sruti, jathi, visartha talanjaaprayasena moksha margam niyachathi” ("The one who is well versed in veena, one who has the knowledge of srutis and one who is adept in tala – all of them attain salvation without doubt.") Sama Veda is considered as the main source for the development of Indian music and the first full scale with seven notes in the descending order are seen in the rendering, even to this day. The melody is close to the scale of the raga, Kharaharapriya (22nd Melakarta) or Natakapriya (10th Melakarta). The Natya Shastra (dated between 100 BCE and 200 CE), Naradiya Siksha (~ 150 BCE), Silapathikaram (dated between 200 CE and 400 CE) are some of the early works containing valuable information on Music. Natya Shastra is mainly a work on Dramaturgy but it discusses Classical Music. These works contain detailed information on stringed instruments like veena (not same as the present day Veena) and other instruments, talas and their rules, seven swaras (including vadi, samvadi and vivadi classifications), and srutis (including 22 srutis), murchanas, raga-like structures called jati (music)s and grama (music), the three octaves tara and mandra sthayis, etc. All these concepts are discussed in a slightly different way in Ancient Tamil Music as well. For example, instead of Jatis (raga-like structures) discussed in Natya Shastra, Tamil Music discusses panns. In Tamil, scales are discussed as palai.
It is believed by some but contested by others that both Carnatic and Hindustani music shared a common history until the gradual increase in Persian influence (from the 13th century onwards) on Indian Classical Music attributed to Mughal and other invasions through the north-west, leading to emergence of Hindustani Music as an independent genre. Carnatic Music started evolving independently based on the ancient traditions in the South with major contributions from later South Indian composers and musicologists. Carnatic Music also has a number of similarities with the Tamil music traditions, including the similarities between panns and ragas, swara system, usage of talas and the similarity in the song structures etc. The pan-Indian bhakti movement also laid a substantial basis for carnatic music as far as the evolution of kritis in various ragas, using religious themes is concerned.
The name 'Carnatic Music' is the anglicized form of Karnata Sangeetham, the traditional name of the classical music of South India. The Kannada composer Purandara Dasa is known as the Sangita Pitamaha or 'Patriarch of Carnatic music'. Carnatic music saw renewed growth during Vijayanagar Empire by the Kannada Haridasa movement of Vyasaraja, Purandara Dasa, Kanakadasa and others. Purandara Dasa, laid out the fundamental tenets and framework for teaching carnatic music.. Venkatamakhin (Venkateswara Dikshitar) is credited with the classification of ragas in the Melakarta System. He wrote his most important work Chaturdandi Prakasika (c.1635 CE) in Sanskrit which contained only 19 melas. Govindacharya expanded the Melakarta Scheme containing the Sampoorna ragas, which is the system in common use ever since.
The learning texts and exercises are more or less uniform across all the South Indian states. The learning structure is arranged in the increasing order of the complexity. The lessons start with the learning of the sarali varisai (solfege set to a particular raga).
Great composers
One of the earliest and prominent composers in South India was Purandara Dasa (1480 - 1564), who was a wandering singer. Purandara Dasa is said to have composed around 475,000 compositions. Most of these songs, written in Kannada, have been lost. Purandara Dasa's compositions were a source of inspiration to the later composers such as Tyagaraja who composed in Telugu. Purandara Dasa defined the basic lessons of Carnatic music by structuring Swaravalis (graded exercises), Alankaras (exercises based on the seven talas) and composed several Gitas or simple songs for novice students. He introduced the Raga Mayamalavagowla as the first scale to be learnt by a beginner. However, the original tunes of his compositions are currently unavailable. Owing to his contribution to Carnatic Music he is referred to as the patriarch of the Carnatic Music tradition or Karnataka Sangeethada Sampradaya Pitamaha.
Tyagaraja (1759? - 1847), Muthuswami Dikshitar (1776 - 1827) and Syama Sastri (1762 - 1827) are regarded as the Trinity of Carnatic Music. They composed mostly in Telugu. However, some of the earliest compositions that are being rendered as items of Carnatic Music, and have been rendered this way for the past few decades, were authored by the Tamil Trinity - Muthu Thandavar (1525-1625), Arunachala Kavi(1712-1779) and Marimuttha Pillai(1717-1787).
Prominent composers prior to the Trinity of Carnatic Music include Vyasatirtha, Purandaradasa, Kanakadasa, Gopaladasa. Other prominent composers are Annamacharya, Oottukkadu Venkata Kavi, Swathi Thirunal, Narayana Teertha, Mysore Sadashiva Rao, Patnam Subramania Iyer, Poochi Srinivasa Iyengar, Mysore Vasudevacharya, Muthiah Bhagavathar, Kotiswara Iyer, Gopalakrishna Bharathi, Papanasam Sivan and Subramania Bharathiyar.
Composers of Carnatic music were often inspired by religious devotion and were usually scholars proficient in one or more of the following languages Kannada, Sanskrit , Tamil, Malayalam and Telugu. They usually included a signature, called a mudra, in their compositions. For example, all songs by Tyagaraja have the word Tyāgarāja in them, all songs by Muthuswami Dikshitar (who composed in Sanskrit) have the words guru guha in them, songs by Syama Sastri have the words "Syama Krishna" in them, Purandaradasa, who composed in Kannada, used the signature 'purandara vitala', Gopalakrishna Bharathi used the signature "Gopalakrishnan" and Papanasam Sivan used 'Ramadasan'.
Nature of Carnatic music
Śruti
Śruti in Indian music is used in two different contexts. The first use of Śruti is the approximate equivalent of a tonic (or less precisely a key) in Western music; it is the note from which all the others are derived. The second use of the word Śruti is in the sense of graded pitches in an octave. Traditionally, there were twenty-two srutis in Carnatic music which are used in the context of specific ragas, but over the years several of them have converged.
Swara
The solfege of Carnatic music is "sa-ri-ga-ma-pa-da-ni" (compare with the Hindustani sargam: sa-re-ga-ma-pa-dha-ni). These names are abbreviations of the longer names shadja, rishabha, gandhara. madhyama, panchama, dhaivata and nishada. Unlike other music systems, every member of the solfege (called a swara) may have many variants, now upto three values. The exceptions are shadja and panchama (the tonic and the dominant in Western music), which have only one form, and madhyama, which has only two forms (the subdominant). The above solfege system is known to have come from a work called Narada Parivrajaka Upanishad of unknown date and the same solfege is known with the terms kural, thuththam, kaikkilai, uzai, ili, vilari, thaaram in Tamil from pre 200 C.E. A 7th century stone inscription in Kudumiyan Malai in Tamil Nadu shows vowel changes to solfege symbols with ra, ri, ru etc. to denote the higher quarter-tones. In one scale, or ragam, there is usually only one variant of each note present, except in "light" ragas, such as Behag, in which, for artistic effect, there may be two, one ascending (in the arohanam) and another descending (in the avarohanam). A raga may have five, six or seven notes on the ascent, and five, six or seven notes on the descent.
In Indian languages, most of whose alphabets are abugidas (syllabic), the solfege is written with the characters for Sa, Ri, Ga, Pa, Da and Ni. Sound Full Name Devanagari Kannada Malayalam Tamil Telugu Roman Values and Comments sa Shadja kural स ಸ സ ச స s Only one possible value. Sometimes referred to as the 'mother' note - all Ragas have this note. ri Rishabha thutham रि ರಿ രി ரி రి r Three possible values. ga Gandhara kaikkiLai ग ಗ ഗ க గ g Three possible values (one of which coincides with the third ri). ma Madhyama uzai म ಮ മ ம మ m Two possible values. pa Panchama iLi प ಪ പ ப ప p Only one possible value. Sometimes referred to as the 'father', though not all ragas have this note. da Dhavatha viLari ध ದ ധ த ద d Three possible values. ni Nishada thaaram नि ನಿ നി நி ని n Three possible values (one of which coincides with the third dha).
Raga system A raga in Carnatic music prescribes a set of rules for building a melody. It specifies rules for movements up (aahroham) and down (avarohanam), the scale, which notes should figure more and which notes should be used more sparingly, which notes may be sung with gamaka, phrases to be used, phrases to be avoided, and so on.
In Carnatic music, the sampurna ragas (those with all seven notes in their scales) are classified into a system called the melakarta, which groups them according to the kinds of notes that they have. There are seventy two melakarta ragas, thirty six of whose subdominant is a perfect fourth from the tonic, thirty six of whose subdominant is an augmented fourth from the tonic. The ragas are grouped into sets of six, called chakras ("wheels", though actually segments in the conventional representation) grouped according to the supertonic and mediant scale degrees. There is a system known as the 'Katapayadi sankhya to determine the Melakarta Raga''.
Ragas may be divided into two classes: janaka ragas ("parent ragas") and janyaragas ("child ragas"). Janaka raga is synonymous with melakarta (because the melakarta ragas each have seven notes in their scale, and use each note only once). Janya ragas are subclassified into various categories themselves.
Tala system
Tala is an aesthetic partitioning of time, usually in rhythmical patterns which have an artistic relation to the rhythmical structure of a composition. It is considered to be an integral part of a musical composition. Each composition of Carnatic music is set to a specific tala. Bharata Muni in his Natyashastra defines Tala as svarataala-padaatmakam.
Carnatic music singers usually keep the beat by moving their hands in specified patterns to keep time. Tala is formed with three basic parts called laghu, dhrtam, and anudhrtam, where laghu is a pattern with the first aksharam (a basic unit of time) marked with the palm face down, followed by a variable number of aksharams marked with successive fingers starting with the little finger. A dhrutam is a pattern of two aksharams, with the first aksharam marked with the palm face down, and the second with the face up. This is notated 'O'.(ie., Tapping once with your palm facing down and once with it facing up.). An anudhrutam is a single aksharam, marked with the palm face down and notated 'U'.(ie., Tapping once with your palm facing down). Only these units are commonly used, though other units such as plutam, exist.
There are seven kinds of talas which can be formed from the laghu, dhrtam, and anudhrtam:
Dhruva tala 1 0 1 1 Matya tala 1 0 1 Rupaka tala 0 1 Jhampa tala 1 U 0 Triputa tala 1 0 0 Ata tala 1 1 0 0 Eka tala 1 How many fingers must be lowered in a laghu is determined by the jathi, a number showing how many fingers to lower. It can only be 3, 4, 5, 7, or 9. (For numbers greater than five, the "sixth finger" is the same as the little finger.) Five jathis times seven patterns gives thirty-five basic talas.
Besides this there are other talas that are recognized to be 108 in total, called the chanda talas. These can be found mainly in the Tiruppugazh, a Tamil devotional work from which select verses are commonly rendered.
Kriti
Carnatic songs are varied in structure and style, but generally consist of three verses:
Pallavi. This is the equivalent of a refrain in Western music. Two lines. Anupallavi. The second verse. Also two lines.
Charana. The final (and longest) verse that wraps up the song. The Charanam usually borrows patterns from the Anupallavi. There can be multiple charanas.
This kind of song is called a keerthana or a Kriti. There are other possible structure for a Kriti. Some such as Sārasamuki sakala bhāgyadē, have a verse between the anupallavi and the charaṇa, called the chiṭṭaswara. This verse consists only of notes, and has no words. Still others, such as Rāmacandram bhāvayāmi have a verse at the end of the charaṇa, called the madhyamakāla. It is sung immediately after the charaṇa, but at double speed.
Varnam
A Varnamis a special kind of song which tells you everything about a raga; not just the scale, but also which notes to stress, how to approach a certain note, classical and characteristic phrases, etc. A varna has a pallavi, an anupallavi, a muktayi swara, whose function is identical to that of the chitteswara in a kriti, a charana, and chitteswaras, after each of which the charana is repeated:
Pallavi Anupallavi Muktayi swara Charana Chitteswara
First Second Third and so on.
There are many more kinds of songs such as geethams and swarajatis.
Improvisation
There are four main types of improvisation in Carnatic music:
Raga Alapana: This is usually performed before a song. It is, as you may expect, always sung in the ragam of the song. It is a slow improvisation with no rhythm, and is supposed to tune the listener's mind to the appropriate ragam by reminding him/her of the specific nuances, before the singer plunges into the song. Theoretically, this ought to be the easiest type of improvisation, since the rules are so few, but in fact, it takes much skill to sing a pleasing, comprehensive (in the sense of giving a "feel for the ragam") and, most importantly, original ragam.
Niraval: This is usually performed by the more advanced concert artists and consists of singing one or two lines of a song repeatedly, but with improvised elaborations.
Kalpanaswaram The most elementary type of improvisation, usually taught before any other form of improvisation. It consists of singing a pattern of notes which finishes on the beat and the note just before the beat and the note on which the song starts. The swara pattern should adhere to the original raga's swara pattern, which is called as "arohana-avarohana"
Taanam: This form of improvisation was originally developed for the veena and consists of repeating the word anantham ("endless") in an improvised tune. The name thaanam comes from a false splitting of anantham repeated. When the word anantham is repeated, i.e., "anantham-anantham", the laws of sandhi dictate that the consonant at the end of the first word be dropped, hence "ananthaanantham" When the rule is applied to a long string of ananthams, you get "ananthaananthaananthaananthaa..." which got falsely split as "thaananthaananthaanan...", or "thaanamthaanamthaanam...".
Ragam Thanam Pallavi: This is a composite form of improvisation. It consists of Raga, Thana, then a line sung twice, and Niraval. After Niraval, the line is sung again, twice, then sung once at half the speed, then twice at regular speed, then four times at twice the speed.
Concerts
Carnatic music concerts are usually performed by a small ensemble of musicians. The group usually has a vocalist, a primary instrumentalist, and a percussionist. Primary instruments are usually string instruments, such as the veena and the violin, although wind instruments such the flute may also be used. Although Carnatic music concerts have been traditionally vocal recitals, in recent years, purely instrumental concerts have become popular.
The vocalist is supported by many instruments. The tambura, the most common kind of drone instrument, is traditionally used at concerts to remind the singer of the tonic, so that the singer may stay in tune throughout the performance. Tambura is increasingly being replaced by the more compact śruti box (also known as the "electronic tambura").
The usual interacting and active accompaniments are Violin (first adopted into Carnatic music in the early 19th century by Baluswami Dikshitar, a brother of Muthuswami Dikshitar and Vadivelu of the Thanjavur Quartet). Mridangam, a two-sided percussion instrument, and Ghatam, a hollow ceramic pot or a Kanjira, an instrument resembling a tambourine. One other possible accompaniment is the Morsing (Jew's harp). Besides playing along with the main vocalist, the violinist also gets the opportunity to take part in the improvisation. The violinist is expected to play both the melody and the mathematical aspects of the vocalist. The vocalist and the violinist take turns while elaborating or while exhibiting creativity in sections like Niraval or Kalpana swaram.
Percussion instruments, such as the mridangam, ghatam, kanjira are used to help the singer in keeping the beat, but they may also improvise. The morsing is also seen in some concerts and it accompanies the main percussion instrument and plays almost in a contrapuntal fashion along with the beats.
Concert content
Contemporary Carnatic concerts (called a kutceri) last approximately three hours. In the concert hall, the performers sit on a slightly elevated stage. Accompanists like violin sit to the main performer's left, and percussion instruments sit on the other side of the main performer facing the instrumentalist.
Carnatic concerts comprise of a number of varied compositions. Carnatic songs are composed in a particular raga, which means that they do not deviate from the notes in the raga. Each composition is set with specific notes and beats, but performers improvise extensively. Improvisation occurs in the melody of the composition as well as in using the notes to expound the beauty of the raga. Concerts usually begin with a varnam. This piece is composed with an emphasis on swaras of the raga. It is lively and fast to get the audience's attention. Varnams also have lyrics, the saahityam. Immediately following the Varnam, there is usually a song in praise of the god Ganesha.
After the varnam and the Ganesha Kriti, the artist sings longer compositions called kirtanas. Without exception, these compositions are devotional in nature. Each Kirtana sticks to one specific raga, although some are composed with more than one ragas; these are known as ragamaalika (a garland of ragas).
Performers begin the main compositions with a section called raga aalapana exploring the raga. In this, they use the words aa, ri, na, ta, etc. instead of swaras to slowly elaborate the notes and flow of the raga. This begins slowly and builds to a crescendo, and finally establishes a complicated exposition of the raga that shows the performer's skill. All of this is done without any rhythmic accompaniment. Then the melodic accompaniment (violin or veena), expounds the raga. Experienced listeners can identify many ragas after they hear just a few notes. With the raga thus established, the song begins, sung usually with lyrics. In this, the accompaniment (usually violin, sometimes veena) performs along with the main performer and the percussion (such as a mridangam). In the next stage of the song, the performer sings the swaras of the raga separately (as sa ri ga, etc.) to the beat. The performer must improvise a string of swaras in any octave according to the rules of the raga and return to beginning of the cycle of beats smoothly, joining the swaras with a phrase selected from the kriti. The violin performs these alternately with the main performer. In very long strings of swara, the performers must calculate their notes accurately to ensure that they stick to the raga, have no awkward pauses and lapses in the beat of the song, and create a complex pattern of notes that an experienced audience can follow. The main composition of any concert has a section at this time for the percussion to perform solo (called the tani aavartanam). The percussion performers perform complex patterns of rhythm and display their skill. If multiple percussion instruments are employed, they engage in a rhythmic dialogue until the main performer picks up the melody once again.
Some experienced artists may do a Ragam Thanam Pallavi mid-concert. A Ragam Thanam Pallavi sometimes comprises of what is called a kuraipu where the vocalist changes a few swarasthanas in the scale of the raga and elucidates other ragas in the vicinity of this raga scale.
Following the main composition, the concert continues with shorter and lighter songs. Some of the types of songs performed towards the end of the concerts are tillanas, thukkadas. Every concert that is the last of the day ends with a mangalam, a thankful prayer and conclusion to the musical event.
Audience
The audience of a typical concert have a very decent understanding of Carnatic music. It is also typical to see the audience tapping out the tala in sync with the artist's performance. As and when the artist exhibits creativity, the audience acknowledge it by clapping their hands. With experienced artists, towards the middle of the concert, requests start flowing in. The artist usually plays the request and it helps in exhibiting the artist's broad knowledge of the several thousand kritis that are in existence.
Every December, the city of Chennai in India has its six week-long Music Season, which has been described as the world's largest cultural event . The Music Season was started in 1927, to mark the opening of the Madras Music Academy. It used to be a traditional month-long Carnatic music festival, but since then it has also diversified into dance and drama, as well as non-Carnatic art forms.
Contemporary performers and audiences are very much linked and musicians are able to get immediate review of their performances on the internet enabled technologies such as blogs and online discussion forums. Wider dissemination of this age-old art form has been possible through MP3 downloads, CDs and DVDs, leading to an increase in the popularity of Carnatic music amongst youngsters.
Learning Carnatic music
Carnatic music is traditionally taught according to the system formulated by Purandara Dasa. This involves Swaravalis (graded exercises), Alankaras (exercises based on the seven talas) and Gitas or simple songs. The student then continues to learn Kritis. It typically takes several years of learning before a student is adept enough to perform at a concert.
Carnatic Music was traditionally taught in the gurukula system, where the student lived with and learnt the art from his guru (perceptor). From the late 20th century onwards, with changes in lifestyles and need for young music aspirants to simultaneously manouvre a parallel academic career, this system has found few takers.
Musicians often take great pride in letting people know about their sishya parampara (or the hierarchy of disciples from some prominent ancient musician or composer), to which they belong. People whose disciple-hierarchies are often referred to are Thyagaraja, Muthuswami Dikshitar, Syama sastri, among others.
In modern times, it is often common for students to visit their gurus daily to learn music. Though new technology has made learning easier with the availability of quick-learn media such as learning exercises recorded on audio cassettes and CDs, these are discouraged by most gurus who emphasize that face-to-face learning is best for students.
Notations
Notation is not a new concept in Indian music. However, Carnatic music continued to be transmitted orally for centuries without being written down. The disadvantage with this system was that if one wanted to learn about a kīrtanam composed, for example, by Purandara Dasa, it involved the difficult task of finding a person from Purandara Dasa's lineage of students.
Written notation of Carnatic music was revived in the late 17th century and early 18th century, which coincided with rule of Shahaji II in Tanjore. Copies of Shahaji's musical manuscripts are still available at the Saraswati Mahal Library in Tanjore and they give us an idea of the music and its form. They contain snippets of solfege to be used when performing the mentioned ragas.
Melody
Unlike Western music, Carnatic music is notated almost exclusively in tonic solfa notation using either a Roman or Indic script to represent the solfa names. Past attempts to use the staff notation have mostly failed. Indian music makes use of hundreds of ragas, many more than the church modes in western music. It becomes difficult to write Carnatic music using the staff notation without the use of too many accidentals. Furthermore, the staff notation requires that the song be played in a certain key. The notions of key and absolute pitch are deeply rooted in western music, whereas the carnatic notation does not specify the key and prefers to use scale degrees (relative pitch) to denote notes. The singer is free to choose actual pitch of the tonic note. In the more precise forms of Carnatic notation, there are symbols placed above the notes indicating how the notes should be played or sung; however, informally this practice is not followed.
To show the length of a note, several devices are used. If the duration of note is to be doubled, the letter is either capitalized (if using Roman script) or lengthened by a diacritic (in Indian languages). For a duration of three, the letter is capitalized (or diacriticized) and followed by a comma. For a length of four, the letter is capitalized (or diacriticized) and then followed by a semicolon. In this way any duration can be indicated using a series of semicolons and commas.
However, a simpler notation has evolved which does not use semicolons and capitalization, but rather indicates all extensions of notes using a corresponding number of commas. Thus, Sā quadrupled in length would be denoted as "S,,,".
Rhythm
The notation is divided into columns, depending on the structure of the tāḷaṃ. The division between a laghu and a dhṛtaṃ is indicated by a ।, called a ḍaṇḍā, and so is the division between two dhṛtaṃs or a dhṛtaṃ and an anudhṛtaṃ. The end of a cycle is marked by a ॥, called a double ḍaṇḍā, and looks like a caesura. Modern artists
Vocalists
Two of the art's greatest living (albeit ageing) performers - Mangalampalli Balamurali Krishna (known for his amazing voice and style), D. K. Pattammal (also known as Pallavi Pattammal, for being the first female to render a Ragam Tanam Pallavi and Ragamalika Swaras sequence on stage) who enthralled audiences across language barriers, is usually credited with popularizing the Carnatic tradition outside South India. M. L. Vasanthakumari, who belonged to the G.N.Balasubramaniam school (popular for specialising bruga sangathis), is especially famous for effortlessly and speedily rendering manodharma elements, without losing the beauty of her own voice, or music. The female trio M. L. Vasanthakumari, M. S. Subbulakshmi and D. K. Pattammal were popularly referred to as the female trinity of the Carnatic Music., signifying the quality and popularity of their Carnatic music, throughout the world. Legendary singer belonging to the Dhanammal school of music T. Brinda was known for her gamaka laden interpretations of core carnatic ragams and also her vast repertoire. Doyens like Alathur Venkatesa Iyer, Mysore Vasudevachar, Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar, Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavathar, and Maharajapuram Viswanatha Iyer, Madurai Mani Iyer, M.D.Ramanathan, Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer and G N Balasubramaniam created a golden era for Carnatic Music. Other doyens who helped construct this era include; Mysore [[Tirumakudalu Chowdiah, Maharajapuram Viswanatha Iyer, S.Ramanathan, T.K.Rangachari, Sirkazhi Govindarajan, K.J.Yesudas, Prof. Mysore V. Ramarathnam, Vairamangalam LakshmiNarayanan, Manakkal Rangarajan and Thanjavur Sankara Iyer. Jon B Higgins ("Higgins bhagavatar") was one of the few Westerners to have learnt and excelled in Carnatic music.
Later vocalists include M.Balamuralikrishna , Manakkal Rangarajan, P.S. Narayanaswamy, R.Vedavalli, Nedunuri Krishnamoorthy, T.N.Seshagopalan and K.J.Yesudas. Other contemporary vocalists include; Nithyashree Mahadevan (grand-daughter of D.K.Pattammal and Palghat Mani Iyer), Maharajapuram Ramachandran (son of Maharajapuram Sanathanam), Sirkazhi Sivachidambaram(son of Sirkazhi Govindarajan), Rajkumar Bharathi (great grandson of Subramania Bharathiyar), T.V.Sankaranarayanan (nephew of Madurai Mani Iyer), Trichur V. Ramachandran & Charumathi Ramachandran, T.M.Krishna & Sangeetha Sivakumar, O.S.Arun (also a Hindusthani Music artist), O.S.Thyagarajan, Sudha Raghunathan, Neyveli Santhanagopalan, Aruna Sairam, S.Sowmya, Vijay Siva, Sanjay Subrahmanyan, R.Ganesh, Bombay Jayashree and Unni Krishnan.
Instrumentalists
Palghat Mani Iyer, Palani Subramaniam Pillai and C.S.Murugabhoopathy redefined the role of mridangam in concerts, in the recent past. Veterans like T. Chowdiah, Rajamanikkam Pillai, Papa Venkataramiah, Dwaram Venkataswami Naidu among others, excelled in violin.
Palghat Raghu, Umayalpuram Sivaraman, T.K.Murthy, Kamalakar Rao, Mannargudi Easwaran, Mavelikkara Velukkutty Nair, Guruvayur Dorai and Karaikkudi Mani excel in the art of Mridangam playing .
T.H.Vinayakram, T.H.Subhashchandran and N. Govindarajan are famous ghatam players.
Among living violinists, T.N.Krishnan, M.S.Gopalakrishnan, Lalgudi Jayaraman M.Chandrasekharan, M.S.Anantharaman, Dr.Mysore Manjunath, Mysore Nagaraj belong to the classical tradition.
Maestros like N. Ramani, Thyagarajan and Mala Chandhrashekharan are some of the famous flute players.
Last edited by sur on 28 May 2008 01:07; edited 1 time in total
____________ "I am a dreamer,I collect all the smiles from My yesterday,
Neatly pack them into words and hide them in my heart,
I call them "MEMORIES" Music has no boundary.
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#1 24 Nov 2006 02:16
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| Thanks for the useful Topic sur : |
| srianne (08 December), |
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sur
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 Re: Carnatic Music
Why Carnatic Music?
This article appeared in the May 1999 issue of Keertana, the newsletter of the Carnatic Music Circle Melbourne. It has since been reprinted in other Indian publications.
As a Westerner interested in Carnatic music, I am frequently asked to explain my interest and to articulate what makes South Indian music special. Both Indians and Westerners ask the same questions. Since I did not grow up with it, but rather chose it for myself from among a broad range of world traditions, Carnatic music is special indeed. There is always a sense in which cross-cultural interactions serve not only to broaden one's horizons, but also to set one's own cultural identity more strongly in relief. My more direct and natural interest in Western traditional music has been nourished by an appreciation for Indian music, and the same can hopefully apply in reverse. Here I hope to describe some points in common, as well as some of the strengths of Carnatic music from my perspective.
In the West, the classical music known best, that of Mozart and Beethoven, centers around the medium of the large orchestra and the ideas of counterpoint and harmony. Within that context, Indian music is unusual, and the idea that it is fully "classical" in scope can be met with some resistance. Curiously, this phenomenon of resistance is reflected in the reception met by other Western music within the broader sweep of history. For me, interest in Western music focuses increasingly on that of the medieval era, from roughly eight hundred to five hundred years ago. This is an exciting repertory which is being reconstructed today for public performance, and it has come to include a wealth of detail and nuance which can stimulate one both intellectually and spiritually.
Like Carnatic music, Western medieval music is concerned more with the song than with the symphony, and indeed the voice must be seen as its supreme instrument as well. The song is surely the most basic of human expressions, and the act of semantic content serves to further invigorate music on both emotional and intellectual levels. Melody and rhythm are likewise more complicated in medieval music than in the more commonly known Western music of the 18th century. Although the music can hardly be said to compare to the sophistication of raga and tala, and especially the elaboration of which modern Carnatic artistes are capable, French musical terms of the 14th century curiously mirror Indian music. There is the term "color" for the melodic basis of the piece and the term "talea" for the sequence of beat patterns, called broadly as "isorhythm."
It would be naive to suggest that 14th century Frenchmen visited India and returned with the ideas of raga and tala (and, at any rate, their music can be extremely complicated in its own way, by way of counterpoint and simultaneous texts), but what can perhaps be suggested is that basic ideas on melodic and rhythmic patterns are natural to the human mind. In the West, these more elaborate melodies and rhythms were progressively abandoned from one century to the next, to the point where Mozart writes such easy phrases in simple rhythms, concentrating instead on movement from one chord to the next. So while we may have had our Purandaradasa in the person of Guillaume Dufay (1397-1474), to continue the analogy, it would be as if our Thyagaraja wrote for Balinese gamelan. The different generations can barely recognize one another.
In Carnatic music, I find first an outlet for my own desire for elaborations on songs per se, in structure as well as melodic and rhythmic ideas. In what tradition can the songs be said to be so perfect, both in their grandeur and in their succinctness? There can be no comparison, especially in the directness of the expression and the range of melodic material available. One can find one or the other in many places, whether a simple and beautiful song, or an impressive intellectual construction based on a nonsense phrase or no words at all. Carnatic music accommodates both of these ideals, and does so to magnificent effect. A song can be performed simply and in all humility, or with the grandest elaboration retaining the core of both meaning and melody.
Of course the meaning of the lyrics revolves around acts of religious devotion. One can rightly ask both concerning the relevance of devotion in our modern age of technology and selfishness, as well as the ability of a Westerner to apprehend and appreciate it. Indeed, it would be presumptuous of me to suggest that I fully understand the songs of the Trinity. I understand parts of them, sometimes after they are explained to me. Nonetheless, I identify with them somehow. The ideas find a personal resonance, not least of which because they are expressed with such musical grace. The sophistication of allusion requires some cross-cultural explanation, but the core idea of devotion meets with receptive listeners elsewhere.
There is a very real sense in which the kritis speak to me, both in word and in music. They express the power in the world beyond petty human concerns, something which music is so ideally suited to express. In the West, Dufay was no "dasa" and so while he was nominally an official of the Catholic Church, his influence on our history was more cosmopolitan. There is less emphasis on devotion, and more on political events or more ordinary topics. This sequence is also seen as part of the "modernization" of the West, and of course it was also the background to the new age of political conquest. This is the divergence which perhaps most strongly conditions the reception which Carnatic music meets in the West. While the nonsense phrases or abstract instrumental gats of Hindustani music find an audience in the meditative Westerner, the unveiled potency of expression in Thyagaraja insists that the listener confront his own ideas on his place in the world.
Today devotion is an uncomfortable topic for many, and the same can be said for classical aesthetics. The complementary ideas that a particular melodic phrase can invoke a specific human emotional response and that the effectiveness of music can be reliably ascertained are certainly unpopular now. In many ways, this is an outgrowth of the same multiculturalism which allows me to attend Carnatic concerts, but it is also part of the rise of democracy as an intellectual ideal as well as a political system. At least in the US, we are supposedly equal, and the same should be said for our taste in music. For a professional musician, the idea is somewhat insulting, because how can the ignorant know of what they judge? They cannot, but we are forced to acknowledge them to make a living, if for no other reason.
Carnatic music is at a crossroads on the issue of aesthetic diversity, especially as its international reputation increases. It is already true that some of the most successful performers in worldly terms are able to make a living by touring the West, and not by representing Carnatic music in its most pure form. Of course there is a very real sense in which an art form must develop and adjust in order to make the same impact on its audience, and Carnatic music knows this fact better than most. It has incorporated the Western violin, and moved to a modern concert setting, complete with amplification. Instrumental innovations continue with the amplified veena and mandolin, as well as the Western saxophone and clarinet. Carnatic music has easily maintained its own identity, not least of which because it is a reservoir of musical ideas and expressions, not specific combinations of sonorities.
An incredible sense of resiliency has characterized Carnatic music since the 19th century, and so one can hardly doubt that it will continue to find that strength today and in the future. However, in a world which presently finds so little use not only for "bhakti rasa" but for the idea that the concept is even meaningful, in what direction will this resiliency take it? I am certainly not qualified to indulge in much speculation, but the answer is an important one to any Carnatic rasika. There is a tremendous wealth of melodic and rhythmic material available, as well as a large body of knowledgeable virtuoso performers, and so treated as raw material, there is no doubt they will prosper. There is a question of what the unifying thread will be, and so one can ask for instance "Do the ragas make Carnatic music?"
There is some controversy as to what exactly makes a raga. If it is a sequence of swaras only, then one can make the same "raga" sound not much like Carnatic music by playing it without gamakas and in unusual tempo and phrasing. This is the position of some Indians, as well as that of many Western composers who use the ragas as raw material. Not so long ago, a Western composer who wanted to use a raga as a melody after reading it in a book had probably never heard it. Although the suggestion may seem absurd, it is both true, and central to such issues as the performance of Western medieval music. Indeed the latter has essentially been resurrected based on writing alone, after a span of several centuries. Can we imagine how different it must sound?
For the phenomenon of resurrection in Carnatic music, one needs to look no farther than the gold engravings of Anamacharya. Do we know how these kirtanas would have sounded? In some cases, as with the kirtanas of Purandaradasa (which are of similar age, but never actually lost), we know the ragas have changed. Nonetheless, this music is performed with confidence, derived primarily from the manner in which similar music is performed and the knowledge that it has been passed down in this way from generation to generation. In other words, there is a continuous tradition of performing Purandaradasa, and so it is natural to perform the rediscovered songs of Anamacharya in the same manner. There is no question but that various changes have occurred, whether in the ragas in which Purandaradasa is performed, in the ragas as named by Mutthuswamy Dikshitar or others, or even in talas as given by Shyama Sastri. This is not generally seen as a problem, or even as an intellectual issue.
Changes in raga or tala designation are regarded as a natural part of the evolution of Carnatic music, whether as clarifications of structural concepts or as simple improvements to the fit between words and music. There may or may not be a danger to the idea of evolution in music, but from a purely scholarly perspective, there is an inherent interest in knowing how something was done at an earlier time in history. Some of these details are recoverable in Carnatic music, but there is consequently an implied question regarding the guru-shishya system and its ability to reproduce music exactly. Already many prominent performers will train with multiple teachers from different lineages and that is a clear indication that no style will be preserved exactly. In the past, the same must have been said for those artistes sophisticated enough to forge their own new style.
It would certainly be pointless to suggest that the talented musician of today should not develop his or her own gifts and ideas or that the opportunity to travel and study on friendly terms with many prominent teachers should not be taken. It is a philosophical truth that isolation undertaken as a choice is not the same as that enforced by circumstances, and so there is not even the possibility of a return to other methods. What I am suggesting is that we will see a natural bifurcation between the continuing development of "mainstream" Carnatic music and an increasing number of scholar-performers who will recreate historical and regional styles. Given the ubiquity of the Western university tenure system, one cannot underestimate the motivation provided by mandatory publication and thesis in developing these ideas, for better or worse.
Dynamic and invigorating interaction between tradition and innovation has been a hallmark of Carnatic music, and even an increased polarization between the two does not need to damage the overall balance. If anything, it will broaden the scope of performance opportunities and the range of available ideas. It is precisely the dual richness of a long-standing tradition together with ample opportunities for modern virtuoso treatments which serve to place Carnatic music among the world's greatest musical styles. As the divergence increases, as long as one aspect keeps respectful sight of the other, the available scope for interaction increases as well. An analogy may be drawn between the manifest and unmanifest instantiations of Brahma, and indeed I view the duality between tradition and innovation in a similar way, dependent on each other. After all, a stagnant tradition is not true to its origins either, because its origins are in the crucible of creativity.
The success of music is ultimately in the mind of the listener, and specifically in the physical and emotional changes which can be provoked. It is a simple fact that Carnatic music has only a positive effect in this way, while the same cannot be said for various forms of popular music. Both the ability of music to build and release tension, as well as its potential to unlock latent energies in the mind are respected and developed. When discussing lofty ideas with people, there are often various mental blocks which must be overcome, and knowing the way around them gracefully is a large part of the art of teaching. With its rich variety of ragas, Carnatic music provides a nearly limitless array of melodic patterns which can be used to effect this navigation under a variety of circumstances. Together with a system for organizing them, these melodies make it possible to clear the mind of obstacles. It is no coincidence that the kucheri traditionally begins with a song on Ganesha, and the same concept may be extended to include the audience's apprehension in general.
To return decisively to the opening question, I value Carnatic music first for the effectiveness with which it can build positive mental discipline. It helps me to focus and organize my thoughts, and it helps to eliminate negative mental habits. How does it do this? Of course, I do not really know. However, I do claim that music naturally illustrates patterns of thought, and in the case of the great composers of Carnatic music, these mental patterns have been effectively conveyed at the highest level. I am personally attracted to Mutthuswamy Dikshitar more than the others. One challenge for Carnatic music is to continue to meet the demands of modern times, especially as the basis for communication with the audience changes. Modern composers have continued admirably in this regard, although the pace of change for the younger audience will be much faster, and the act of composition may need to adapt accordingly.
Even as its range expands, Carnatic music will continue to communicate the highest ideals, and many people around the world will be listening. There will be more interaction with other traditions, but there is also an audience for the strictest styles in the West. Carnatic music is one of the world's great treasures. I am honored to have been associated with it in some small way, and to have had the opportunity to write this article.
____________ "I am a dreamer,I collect all the smiles from My yesterday,
Neatly pack them into words and hide them in my heart,
I call them "MEMORIES" Music has no boundary.
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#2 26 Nov 2006 22:00
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sur
Joined: November 2006
Posts: 10619
Location: Virginia
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 Carnati Music
Karnatik Revival KALPANA MOHAN, May 05, 2008 On a chilly day in May 2004 at the San Jose Convention Center, Sudha Raghunathan’s 9 a.m. concert crescendos into the four-hour stretch with a Ragam Thanam Pallavi in a three raga pattern of Hemavathi, Mohanam, and Hindolam. Few in the 1500-person crowd are aware of the time, effort, and logistics involved in the elaborate plan by the South India Fine Arts (SIFA) committee to present this renowned artiste from South India for its 25th anniversary. A complex music eco-system exists in the United States today with organizations like the Carnatic Music Association of North America (CMANA), Indo American Cultural and Religious Foundation (IACRF), and Kalalaya vying with one another to name, sponsor, market, receive, host, feed, ferry, and pamper the musical glitterati from Chennai. Concerts by eminent visiting artistes are hosted year-round except in summer. “Today, one sponsor offers to support an artiste for a concert; the word then goes out to all organizers and the artiste has innumerable offers around every corner of the country. This would have been impossible 40 years ago,” observes V.K. Viswanathan, a 74-year-old scientist from New Mexico, who, literally, bore the burden of escorting artistes to and from airports and concert venues when he was a struggling post-graduate student (at a stipend of $125 a month) in the early ’60s in New York. “In 1962, unable to locate a taxi, I walked through the streets of Manhattan with Umayalpuram Sivaraman’s mridangam on my head while Vellore Ramabadhran walked by my side with his ghatam. The main artiste, Veena Balachandar, and his host had left the concert venue in the only car that was available to us.” Viswanathan chuckles as he recalls the plight of a live orchestra negotiating the beat and pace of New York city: “Oh, and by the way, walking with us was also another artiste with his tampura.”
Getting its Notes Heard Over Hindustani
Karnatik music is an endemic art, mostly patronized by a South Indian audience, both in the Bay Area and around the world. “A more diverse audience is getting exposure to Karnatik music through San Francisco’s Sangati Center, which targets an audience that appreciates music as an art,” says Jerry Barr, a tabla professional who is a regular patron of SIFA performances. Barr believes Hindustani music gets mainstream attention because famous artists like Ravi Shankar and Zakir Hussain branched out into the realms of world music and jazz. Ravi Shankar became well known in the U.S. in the late ’50s, following his stint at the Eastman School of Music at the University of Rochester, when George Harrison (of The Beatles) became his student. In a hippie era that feted the bohemian, the classicism of Ravi Shankar catapulted him to instant glory, following his fusion performances at the Woodstock and Monterey festivals. Unlike Hindustani musicians, practitioners of the Karnatik tradition tend to keep within their boundaries. “Karnatik musicians mostly just focus on classical music,” Barr says. Mridangam expert Trichy Sankaran, a professor of music at Toronto’s York University, says he has tried to be a messiah for Karnatik music by collaborating with other systems of music in his three decades as a teacher and performer. “In the old days, wherever I went, people talked about the North Indian tabla. Nobody knew about the South Indian mridangam,” he says. A decade before Sankaran landed in Toronto, there were groups pushing to propagate South Indian classical music. In the early ’60s in upstate New York, after every curd-rice and lemon-pickle jam session by music lovers made up of university kids from South India, a heated debate would arise as to why Karnatik musicians couldn’t be heard live in the U.S. just like Hindustani performers. At about the same time, at the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA), an energetic young Caucasian majoring in ethnomusicology—Robert (Bob) Brown—found himself inexplicably drawn to Karnatik music and, especially, to the mridangam. He went to Chennai in search of a teacher. “In those days, no Brahmin musician would entertain Brown as a student, let alone allow him in his house,” reflects Viswanathan. One musician strayed from the norm. Tanjore Ranganathan, a mridangam specialist, agreed to take him on as a student. Brown convinced his teacher to follow him to the United States, and Brown’s research on the art of the mridangam would result in his dissertation: The Mrdanga: A Study of Drumming in South India. At the California Institute of the Arts and at Wesleyan University, Ranganathan taught many non-Indians Karnatik music, including drummer John Bergamo, the late musician Jon B. Higgins, Glenn “Rusty” Gillette, and Craig Woodson. In 1963, Ranganathan became Wesleyan’s first Artist in Residence in Music. It was at Wesleyan that Brown first coined the term “world music” to describe its ethnomusicology program. “To me, the late Bob Brown is the father of Karnatik music in the United States,” states Viswanathan. “Brown had the initiative, the energy and the knowledge to persuade Wesleyan to start a department on Karnatik music.” Thus Karnatik music was introduced in a charged academic setting where all formal concerts were presented at concert halls inside university buildings and were typically accompanied by lecture demonstrations. “In the academic situation, people now realize that Karnatik rhythm offers a lot more than Hindustani, and that it’s probably the world’s most elaborate system,” Sankaran says.
M. S. Subbalakshmi Comes to World Stage
The concert by doyen M.S. Subbalakshmi at the United Nations in 1966 was a momentous occasion for South Indian music. “Historically it was a very high point for our culture that M.S. was invited to perform in front of international delegates. I don’t remember any other event of such magnitude,” says Viswanathan, who was fortunate enough to hear her along with the privileged audience of 700 delegates. In those days, hosting a famous figure wasn’t easy for unmarried graduate students who got by on a mishmash of rice, lentil, and vegetables squish-cooked in a Rukmini pressure cooker. Consider a host’s predicament: would anyone dare feed the Queen of England canned beans? “There was one Indian restaurant in New York City at the time, and it could only be described as Cholera Café. For a while, M.S. and her spouse Sadasivam had to make do with mutter paneer from that restaurant until we located a generous host called Esso Doraiswamy whose 4,000 square-foot penthouse overlooked Central Park.” At a time when email, IMs, and cell phones were non-existent, Viswanathan would go to the library at the University of Rochester to get his hands on the telephone books for every University around the country. Such calls ran up huge telephone bills, he recalls. “I would pore over the pages looking for South Indian names. That’s how I made one graduate student across the country, one S. Ramadorai—today he’s the CEO of Tata Consultancy Services—host the artists at UCLA.” Meanwhile, at Wesleyan, Bob Brown had convinced mridangam stalwart Palghat Raghu and vocalist K. V. Narayanaswamy to teach at the ethnomusicology department. On Fridays, Raghu and Narayanaswamy held “curry concerts” which South Indians from as far as 100 miles away would attend. A tree by the World Music Hall at Wesleyan is dedicated to T. Ranganathan, who continued to teach at Wesleyan until his death in 1987. A plaque commemorates him as “an extraordinary teacher, brilliant musician, and friend.”
Making Artists Feel at Home
The first formal Karnatik music organization was born out of a challenge between students at the University of Rochester. “We’re nine of us in our group. If every one of you gives me $500, I can get any artiste you want from South India,” wagered Viswanathan to his friends. It led to the launch of East-West Exchange, the first venture to promote Karnatik music in the United States. In 1971, violin maestro Lalgudi G. Jayaraman and flute expert N. Ramani, accompanied by Ramnad Raghavan on the mridangam, were the inaugural performers under the formal East-West Exchange banner. “Money was not important to them. They wanted to serve the cause of music, so my dad and Ramani sir decided to go on their first U.S. tour,” says Lalgudi G. J. R. Krishnan, son of Lalgudi G. Jayaraman. This largesse on the part of two acclaimed musicians set the stage for others to consider performing in the United States during the ’70s. Touring the country for three months at a time took a toll on families left behind in India. “My dad would only be able to write letters to us. No one used the telephone to call. It was too expensive in those days,” says Krishnan. Expenses plagued sponsoring organizations, too. Trichy Sankaran says flying was not even an option unless it was from coast to coast. “So we would cover eight and ten hour distances by car with our hosts.”
Host families around the country often went to extraordinary lengths to support visiting artistes, the cause of music, and the community. “I remember staying for over a month at the home of V. V. Sundaram in Cleveland in 1984 when I accompanied T. R. Subramaniam on his U.S. tour,” says Anuradha Sridhar, director of Trinity Center for Music in Saratoga, Calif. No traveling artiste ever forgets to mention the dedication of the families of Balasubramaniam (Cleveland Balu) and V. V. Sundaram (Cleveland Sundaram) and K. Venkatraman of Toronto. “I believe Cleveland Balu’s home was never locked,” recalls Vasanthi Jayaraman, of Saratoga, who remembers visiting their home in the early ’80s. “At any time, homesick college graduates from local universities would be eating a meal in their home.” Artiste Ramnad Raghavan lived and worked out of Cleveland Balu’s home for several years during the ’70s.
Out of such a relationship between benevolent hosts and distinguished guests blossomed one organization that has nurtured a sister city for Karnatik music 10,000 miles away from the Karnatik capital of Chennai: Cleveland, Ohio. The famous Cleveland Orchestra is one of the “Big Five” orchestras of America and the Cleveland Institute of Music is a leading conservatory on the international stage. So it is ironic and yet meaningful that Karnatik music’s most prolific composer, Saint Thyagaraja, should root himself in a town where, daily, the strains of Mozart, Bach, and Stravinsky float over the waters of the Eerie.
Thyagaraja Aradhana on the Shores of the Eerie
The Cleveland Thyagaraja Aradhana, which began in 1978 under the suggestion of Ramnad Raghavan, is the largest Indian classical music festival in North America. What limped along as a two-hour meeting on a Saturday morning now runs as a 10-day festival with 60 artistes flying in from Chennai, 40 concerts by senior and upcoming musicians, and at least 8,000 attendees from the U.S. and Canada. Until 2001, feeding the floating population at the Aradhana was the responsibility of two dedicated women, the spouses of Cleveland Balu and Sundaram. Now, the Aradhana engages the chef at the Pittsburgh temple to cook for the festival. Even today, free lunch is a guarantee for the over 2,000 attendees, thanks to an army of volunteers, some of whom drive from as far away as Pittsburgh and New Jersey to help at the festival. By noon, a dozen assistants donning blue caps, aprons, and gloves hum around the main cafeteria serving and keeping the crowds moving fast. The lunch menu is delicious: bisibela, beans sabji, carrot salad, vermicelli payasam, vadai, lemon pickle, and curd rice. Inside Waetjen hall on the first Saturday of the 2008 Aradhana, the Indian gene kicks in hours before 7 p.m. for a duo performance by Lalgudi Krishnan and Lalgudi Vijayalakshmi. Every seat in the vast theater has been conquered by shawls, coats, caps, dupattas, and handbags. The territorial owners of these bits of clothing and accessories are outside the theater gossiping in the lobby. The mood at the lobby is always upbeat around the booths selling dance and music CDs, the latest in Karnatik music teaching software, and the low-down on hot real-estate deals in South India. In this foyer, fans get their only-in-Cleveland opportunity to mingle with artistes. An invitation to perform at Cleveland now has cachet in the rosters at Chennai. Sundaram believes that artistes love to perform at Cleveland because they know that the audience will love them unconditionally, without regard to style, name, or title. Musicians know that performing in Chennai is much like the real estate business: it’s all about “location, location, location.” Which sabha (venue) and which time slot an artiste performs in often has more heft than how the artiste performs. One aging artiste asked Sundaram why he even bothered to invite her, flying her all the way into the cold. “In Chennai,” she admitted, “they don’t ever invite me to perform.” In Cleveland, however, she got three standing ovations. “You will see that, on the Cleveland stage, we appreciate the art more than the [name of the] artiste,” adds Balu. On the first Sunday of this year’s festival, while 88-year-old R.K. Srikantan’s impassioned singing holds the audience captive, Sundaram and Balu sit in the wings worrying: how they will continue running the Aradhana year after year in grand fashion? 2008 has proven to be challenging: costs have skyrocketed for travel, lodging, and food. And a visa scam in Chennai has cost them thousands of dollars in cancellations and re-bookings. Pondering loans and losses, Sundaram and his team are desperate to get the Aradhana on the radar of affluent Indian Americans. Still, they are optimistic. Somewhat miraculously, while running dangerously low on fuel, the Aradhana has kept finding its wings, year after year. “Like the bumblebee, the Aradhana cannot technically fly. Yet, somehow, it does!” he grins.
Grooming the ABKD (American Born Karnatik Desi)
Since 1987, Cleveland has promoted its competitions in vocal, instrumental, and percussion categories with its stress on the different aspects of Karnatik music, including improvisation. Sundaram finds that senior musicians from India are happy to judge young talent here because they believe that the process is transparent and fair. “Many vidwans who won’t judge competitions at Chennai’s prestigious Music Academy are willing to be judges in Cleveland.” Lalgudi Krishnan, one of this year’s judges, says he has been listening to local talent since his first U.S. tour in 1983. “The quality has improved. Some students have reached professional standards and the winners are really top-notch.” Krishnan recalls how his father used to worry about the future of Karnatik music abroad. “The first generation that left South India in the ’60s and ’70s supported our music. But will the trend sustain?” he wondered. Today, his father’s questions have been answered. Krishnan is hopeful for the future of Karnatik musicians raised on U.S. soil during the Chennai December music season: “They can fit into an artiste slot without the NRI tag anymore. They are equally competent as the Indian-born artiste.” Some artistes, however, still feel that it’s impossible to replicate the smear, the smog, the sounds, and the swarams of Chennai. U.S.-based artistes will be handicapped, they say. 25-year-old Sikkil Gurucharan from Chennai believes that even the best Indian American Karnatik musicians will be hurt by not living in Chennai. “The environment here still lacks the ambience of Chennai,” he says. In the entertainment business, it’s not always about how good you are, but often about who you know and who, in turn, knows you. Performing musicians realize how important it is to be visible. “But I don’t care about being known. I just want to sing,” says 15-year-old Varun Ganesan of Ocean Township, New Jersey, who learns vocal music from D.B. Ashwin. Ganesan competed at Cleveland for the sixth time this year (and won prizes), but he will return next year. “Seeing all those kids who are better than I am, I tell myself that that’s how I want to be. I want to get to that level.” Ganesan returns home from Cleveland and begins practicing the very next day after reflecting on how much he can improve. Equally passionate is 17-year-old Rajna Swaminathan of Burtonsville, Maryland, a percussionist trying to makes waves in the male dominated field of the mridangam. A student of maestro Umayalpuram Sivaraman, Swaminathan hopes to make an impact on global music. “I never saw myself differently being a woman in a man’s field,” she says,
“because my relationship with the mridangam developed without the consideration of such external factors.” Sruti Sarathy, 14, of Palo Alto, Calif., who took home a first prize this year in the concert competition, says she feels blessed to be learning Karnatik music from her guru, Anuradha Sridhar. “I love Karnatik music for its spirituality.” Students like Ganesan, Swaminathan, and Sarathy are the poster children for the rising quality of Karnatik music education in the United States.
Engineering Musicians in the Cradle of Technology
Serious students of Karnatik music in the U.S. are finding learning easier: 21st century gadgetry has overhauled the way they learn music. Audio and video recorders, mp3 players, the internet, and VoIP have brought countless teachers “into” students’ homes. But it’s also a dangerous time for students of the art who are swayed by video kits and internet lessons. “Theoretically you can learn a lot from such classes but having a teacher in front of you is the only thing that can put you on the right path,” says Sridhar. Even now, Srikanth Chary, a Fremont, Calif.-based veena artiste and director of Nadha Nidhi School, has not come to terms with remote learning: “It goes away from the personal relationship with the teacher which, I believe, is at the heart of our music. I’m concerned that it’s becoming more of a science than an art.” Despite the issues presented by new-age methods of learning ancient art forms, technology is offering positive experiences. “People are now sharing their music collections with everyone else. There’s a whole database of old classic material that’s proving to be an excellent learning tool. It’s just like a school having a library,” observes Sridhar. While copyright is often in violation, artistes and listeners have been brought closer together by the ethos of openness spawned by the internet. It has built a savvier audience. Chary looks back at Karnatik music education as it used to be in the San Francisco Bay Area three decades ago. There were a lot of allowances made for children growing up here by both parents and teachers. “You excused the children because they were growing up in a culture where they didn’t speak their mother tongue. You excused the lack of voice flexibility. You excused the depth of knowledge.” Today, he notes, “I see groups emerging where there’s no difference between the kids being taught here and those in India.” The San Francisco Bay Area is lucky, says one east-coast clique of Cleveland regulars, who swear that competitors from California shall remain unvanquished: “I tell you, no one can beat those California kids!” Is there something, perhaps, in the water in the valley? Chary doesn’t think so. But he will grant that the Silicon Valley breeds aggression and perfectionism. “Californians have high goals. We’re pretty pushy parents. The kid comes home with a 99 and you wonder where that one point went?” Chary laughs. In a valley carved out by educated professionals from India, the competition among their children for the best college admissions, the prized scholarships, and the best (concert) slots will be fierce. But Lalgudi Krishnan looks at the emigration by Indian professionals from South India in a positive light. He believes we are seeing a “revival of Karnatik music” resulting from the feverish community spirit of the diaspora. Had these professionals stayed back in India, he notes, they would not have had the incentive to seek out and cherish the music. Among the audiences he plays for abroad, at least 50 percent belong to a younger generation and pursue Karnatik music at a very serious level. “The healthy trend is that, as a result, gurus have also come down and settled here and, of course, that musicians visit year-round. It’s a cultural value-add for life in the United States. And it’s a great thing for Karnatik music.”
Last edited by sur on 30 Jul 2008 10:08; edited 2 times in total
____________ "I am a dreamer,I collect all the smiles from My yesterday,
Neatly pack them into words and hide them in my heart,
I call them "MEMORIES" Music has no boundary.
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#3 28 May 2008 01:13
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Music
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Joined: November 2006
Posts: 3966
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 Re: Carnatic Music
Thu Apr 12 2012 Music & Dreams Carnatic music exponent from Andhra, Bhavaraju Lakshmi Surya Teja brings her talent to a city stage Her father commuted for two hours from Srikakulam to Visakhapatnam to help her pursue music every week. Bhavaraju Lakshmi Surya Teja, a Carnatic singer from Andhra Pradesh, has lived up to her father's expectations and fulfilled his dreams. She will perform in a Carnatic extravaganza organised by the Poona Sangeetha Sabha at the Sawai Gandharva Smarak on April 15. Lakshmi will be accompanied by violinist P Gyandev and mridangam player P Jayadev. She began her music lessons at the age of seven and has come a long way since then. “I would participate in several competitions in my hometown and someone suggested that I should enroll in the classes of Pantula Rama. That was 10 years back,” she says. Lakshmi has been under the guidance of the vocals and violin maestro ever since. The 23-year-old MBA student is now an All India Radio B High Grade artist and an exponent in Carnatic music. Is it difficult for the young artist to pursue academics and studies together? “I have seen my father work hard for my music and my brother's studies. I would never want to let him down. Music is my passion and it is necessary to have an academic qualification to survive in today's society,” she reasons. However, she feels that “music will always have an edge over any other passion in her life.” Lakshmi's hard work and dedication to the art form has brought her accolades from far and wide. She has bagged numerous awards including the Upcoming Young Musician Award by Sri Kurella Someswara Rao Trust in 2011, scholarship from the Young Artists Scheme by the Ministry of Culture, Government of India, and several gold medals in state level competitions. Though her kitty is full with awards, she still has the zeal of a first-time performer in her. “With my never-die attitude, I always strive for the best and work towards it. Awards act as an added bonus to my hard work,” shares Lakshmi. She is “looking forward to visiting the city of culture and tradition,” as she fondly addresses Pune. “Pune is a hub of culture, art and all things traditional. I always look up to the audience here. They understand Carnatic music and are keen listeners,” she says. (Teja will perform in a Carnatic extravaganza organised by the Poona Sangeetha Sabha at the Sawai Gandharva Smarak on April 15, at 5.30 pm)
____________ Music forms a part of me again It gives Shape to my faceless Expressions...To my Thoughts. {Alochana}
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#4 14 Apr 2012 12:58
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