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Thinking music

DEEPA GANESH

The cheerful Sikkil Gurucharan, grandson of the legendary flautists, Sikkil sisters, is also a thinking musician. His new album Madirakshi captures him in his essence

Photo: V. Sreenivasa Murthy

FIRMLY GROUNDEDSikkil Gurucharan: `We have to give classical a contemporary sound to take people along with us'

It's hard to decide where to begin. The concert or the conversation. These seemingly disparate entities turned out to be one seamless experience. For Sikkil Gurucharan, the young star on the Carnatic music horizon, his outlook to life is an extension of his music and vice-versa. Gurucharan is convincing in more than one sense. He doesn't build a fort of impregnable classical knowledge around him, nor does he wear an imperious air of a musician. Gurucharan is a true blue new age boy — mobile sporting, Net surfing, and for good measure, a blogger too. But that's surely not what makes him convincing. Without much ado, you can discuss the good and the not-so-good things about his concert and he'll respond to you with utmost sincerity; with the highest regard for a listener's intelligence and understanding. He's absolutely believable because he'll make no bones about telling you how he loved that GNB phrase and that Semmangudi birkha and tried incorporating it in his rendition. He will gush about Ilaiayaraja and spool of his favourite songs. "Have you listened to Tiruvazhagam? That Shuddha Dhanyasi piece is my favourite. And that Simhendramadhyama song in Shiva, oh!," he bursts into song again. "If he offers me a chance to sing, I'll be more than happy to accept it," says Gurucharan, excited at the very prospect.

Tell Gurucharan that you had a problem with the pace of not just his particular concert but the trend that it has come to be, and he admits a musicican's assumptions about the audience in a sabha does go wrong at times. "But I try and sing atleast one vilambakala kriti in a concert," explains Gurucharan. He goes on: "Listen to my new album Madirakshi. I've sung to no rhythm and I'm sure you'll like it." This grandson of the legendary flautists, the Sikkil sisters, has a well-honed, mellifluous voice that is high on emotional component. He offers a complete new experience in his new album, singing to the grand notes of the subdued piano. Conceived as the intermingling of two elemental forces, the red earth and pouring rain, it leaves you with a lasting impact — that of intense desire and of profound contemplation.

For someone from traditional environs, Gurucharan has surely come a long way with Madirakshi. "I don't think I could have ever done this on concert stage. Bharatiyar's poem `Aasai Mugam' is one of deep agony. It has to be sung in a slow, exploratory tempo. The idea for `Yayum yayum', a poem written 15 centuries ago, blossomed in the London tube train. It is a very solemn piece," he explains. Gurucharan is elated that contrary to popular notion, the young crowd has responded well to the album, despite the tempo. "They've come up to me and said they never knew Carnatic classical was so emotive. We have to give classical a contemporary sound to take people along with us. I don't mean compromise, but we have to constantly think of new ways in which we can introduce the numerous dimensions of this highly evolved form," he explains.

The fact that he came from an illustrious family of musicians, you would expect that he chose music rather early in life. "No, I hadn't made up my mind till I was in college. On the insistence of my grandparents, I had made music a bi-weekly affair." He however recalls that he used to be awestruck by people thronging the Sikkil sisters to get their autograph after a concert; the tremendous outpour of great admiration. But that didn't push him to make the decision. "It happened while I was in college. The kind of response I got from my friends helped me take the plunge. I began to feel responsible for what I was singing and realised that I was getting terribly involved with music. I started serious practise," he narrates. Though Gurucharan was absolutely clear about his aspiration, it was not the end of his struggle. He wanted to pursue academics as well. He did his master's course in Financial Management through correspondence and kept his music going as well.

Trained under Vygai Gnanskandan, Gurucharan also took many a lesson from his mother and the Sikkil sisters themselves. Beginning from how to present a concert to what to sing in which sabha, the Sikkil sisters did take a lot of pains in grooming this grandson, who's probably the only vocalist in the family. "They've always told me to believe in music alone. Nothing else should matter they would say." Refreshingly different from other parents, Gurucharan's father, a pharmacist, also a former stage actor, was keen that he take up music full time. As one is engaged in a conversation with Gurucharan, you catch him constantly thinking, rethinking and re-revising what he formerly believed could be the truth. "Currently, it's boom time for Carnatic music. It's thriving and I'm happy being here. There are so many sabhas, lots of opportunities and the media is very encouraging," he says, with a happy smile.

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