KVN’s nourishing shadow
GOWRI RAMNARAYAN
|
Padma Narayanaswamy considers it her great fortune. With missionary zeal she is training students in his bani.
|
I listened when he coached disciples, even followed his humming as he shaved or flipped through a magazine.
Photo : M. Karunakaran
Continuing the tradition: Padma Narayanaswamy.
Hear`ing his voice in a radio recital the girl announced, “He is my guru.” So, instead of Ariyakkudi Ramanuja Iyengar to whom he wanted to entrust the girl’s training, the father, a Commercial Superintendant in the Railways, approach
ed his sishya K.V. Narayanaswamy. Then at the peak of his career, KVN had no time for regular students. However, the girl’s determination persuaded him to overcome his reluctance.
Born among 10 siblings in a family without a musical background, young Padma’s interest in singing was kindled by sister Neela’s lessons with Pallavur Mani Iyer. Holidays at ancestral home in Tirupati brought more exposure. Her aunt took violin lessons. Neela became a scientist at the Atomic Energy Commission before she was brutally murdered.
In their green years, Neela noted Padma’s talent and said, “You must become an M.S.Subbulakshmi.” An impossible goal, Padma shrugged. Neela chided her, “Aim for the Olympics to become a national winner.”
Principal Kalyanikutti Ammal at Keyes High School, Secunderabad, endorsed this view. She got records of Mira’s verses by M.S. for Padma to sing in a school play. Tutored by gurus Balasubramaniam and Padmanabhan in evening classes, the girl won prizes at school and inter-school competitions.
At Kalyanikutti Ammal’s advice, the 16-year old found herself in grandmother’s home in Sevvapet, commuting to Madras by local train for lessons with KVN. Daily practice at 4 a.m. and 5 p.m. comprised swara varisai in Thodi, Sankarabharanam, Kharaharapriya and Kalyani, as also sadhakam from mandara sthayi panchamam to madhya sthayi panchamam in akaram, ikaram and ukaram. KVN taught little, and ordered her to totally forget everything she had learnt from others.
Her family was appalled by this slow progress. Once when a cousin took her to see the legendary G.N. Balasubramaniam, she sang two lines from a varnam, all her guru had taught her at that time. Finally, KVN had Padma join the Central Music College with Musiri Subrahmanya Iyer as Principal. “Amazing role models!” exclaims Padma. A three-year government scholarship had Padma joining Musiri’s home classes with Mani Krishnaswami, Suguna Purushotthaman, Padmaja Srinivasan, Prema Sukumar and Rukmini Ramani. “A marvellous teacher, he could make the dullest student understand alapana methods for any raga, as well as niraval and kalpanaswara.” Finding Padma distraught with her scanty repertoire, Musiri entrusted her to Mani. “She helped me wholeheartedly to catch up with the others.”
Why did Padma marry KVN, a widower with four children, 20 years older than her, just when her own music demanded singleminded attention? “My aunt initiated the proposal. I knew he had no thoughts for anything except his own music and guru. He needed someone to take care of his family. He never stopped me from practice or performance. But where was the time?” Among cherished memories is the scene of an afternoon at the Navaratri Mandapam, Thiruvanthapuram, where a relaxed Palghat Mani Iyer blessed her as she sang for him. When her anxiety launched a faster pace for “Akshayalinga vibho,” Iyer slowed it down with his beats.
She did perform at prestigious venues including the Music Academy, managed a two years’ university assignment in California with T. Balasaraswati, T.N. Krishnan, KVN, and ganjira Nagarajan in the faculty.
In time, Padma’s career as a soloist took a backseat. She began to accompany her husband. “Then I felt every nuance. When KVN sang Kapi, even the sa and pa became Kapi. Once when he sang a Saveri pallavi, I wondered what more could be evoked from that raga,” she says rapturously. His on-the-spot choices demanded her knowing his entire repertoire and without direct teaching. “I listened when he coached disciples, even followed his humming as he shaved or flipped through a magazine.”
Padma became KVN’s nourishing shadow, inseparable during his last years.
“My good fortune,” she smiles. With missionary zeal, she continues to train her husband’s students in his bani. “I want to stay immersed in music in the remaining years. I’m glad I have a daughter with sangita gnanam. No one has a greater right to her father’s style. I hope Anuradha will nurture it, stay within and grow with it.”
(A fortnightly spotlight on music gurus, musicologists and representatives of different schools, who have enriched Carnatic music.)
Printer friendly
page
Send this article to Friends by
E-Mail
Friday Review
Bangalore
Chennai and Tamil Nadu
Delhi
Hyderabad
Thiruvananthapuram
