Two Moments
My earliest memory of Carnatic music involves Balamuralikrishna singing Duduku Gala. He sings the anupallavi, "Kadu durvishayaakrushtudai..." At 'vishayaa', there's a pause for the briefest of moments, a thousandth of a second, or even less, where he leaves us hanging at the tara sthayi madhyamam, before he takes 'krushtudai...' That madhyamam, in his bell-like voice, and that pause after, where you have just enough time to gasp, but not enough to sigh, is magical.
***
"Next, I will play a composition of Saint Tyagaraja in the ragam Gangeyabhushani. Evvare Ramayya." U. Srinivas announced. This was three years ago.
I was in the fifth row of the Music Academy, sitting next to a foreigner who knew a fair bit of Carnatic Music. "That's raga number 33!" he told me, excitedly. I smiled. Srinivas started with the panchamam, a fleeting sound, before he turned to his right adjusted his amplifier. He started again, pa ma ga ma ga, a momentary pause, and then the shatsruti ri, drawn from the depths of the lower panchamam. I smiled again.
Ri ga ma pa. Pa pa ma ga ma ga, and then a pause, and that ri again. This was standard fare.
He signalled to the violinist to stop following him.
Then he played sa-da. Held the daivatam for hardly a second-and-a-half before turning to his violinist and smiling impishly.
The damage was done. The da sent a spear right through me - it took me a few seconds to even recognise the note! It had a similar effect on the foreigner. It was like I was being thrown, suddenly, out of an aeroplane, and the surprise caused me to forget how to open the parachute. I knew that the shuddha daivatam would come in this raaga at some point. But Srinivas had distracted me enough for those five seconds, toying with the familiar, before hurling me into the skies!
***
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3 replies:
Hah. Nice.
The first concert I attended was one by U Srinivas at the Music Academy. I was five and my grandmother dragged me along because U Srinivas was a former child prodigy. I was almost in tears out of boredom. These days I voluntarily go for concerts and I actually enjoy them even. But I am not sure if it is magical or not. Sometimes I regret that I never paid enough attention to this form of music between age 5 and 20.
And about the plum cake at Kottayam that I commented on your earlier post, I was referring to this place called Ann. It is so spectacular, it is my moment of magic :)
Nice :)
This I have to say- one of my earliest Carnatic music memories involves a Pancharatna too. A friendly neighbourhood akka was singing Jagadanandakaraka to my granddad right before an Aradhana, when I was 6 or thereabouts, and when she got to the Omkarapancharakee charanam, the mel shadja that came right after the keel sa was all that stuck with me. And for a long, long time, 'sa SA'(wherever encountered) would remind me only of Nattai, that akka, and the Pancharatnas.
Ha, some story. :)
Nice blog, hopped here from a couple of others.
@Radhika
I must try that plum cake sometime :)
@crazylittlething
(To be honest, your handle made me think I was being spammed.)
Lovely story... :) I shall remember this each time I play Jagadanandakaraka now!
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