Metro Plus
Bangalore
Chennai
Hyderabad
The colours of emotion
|
Carnatic vocalist Sikkil Gurucharan and Western Classical pianist Anil Srinivasan have evolved a genre that focusses on the voice, the lyric as well as the instrument
|
Photo: S. R. Raghunathan
Great rapport Anil Srinivasan and Sikkil Gurucharan performing at the fest
For some decades now, Carnatic music has not emphasised the quality of the voice. A myth has grown to “explain” this neglect as a virtue! “A good voice is necessary in Hindustani music, but vidwat is enough for Carnatic.” An M
. S. Subbulakshmi is deemed an exception.
It is heartening to see that Carnatic vocalist Sikkil Gurucharan and Western Classical pianist Anil Srinivasan have formed a partnership to develop a genre of their own which relies on excellence in not just the instrument, but on the voice as well. As they premiered works from their new album “Colour of Rain” at The Hindu Friday Review November Fest along with older songs, they proved that in some ways, the new blend is really a revival of old, near-forgotten values in Carnatic music. Their focus is on the voice, on the lyric, and on sringara, the sentiment of love.
Most of their songs are confined to voice and piano. Since the piano provides both melodic and percussion support, Gurucharan had to match its tonal beauty without any slip in sruti or vocal timbre. He did. Beginning with Kalki’s “Poonkuyil”, he sang with a feeling for not just Kaapi raga, but also its images of the birdcall in the woods intensifying the woman’s yearning as she waits for her tryst.
Effective touch
Subrahmanya Bharati’s “Chuttum vizhichudar” in Ratipatipriya and Sahana had the man painting the incandescent beauty of his lover. The interpretation went in for a languid trance rather than sparkle and fervour, though the smooth glide into Sahana was an effective touch. The piano changed its mood to underscore the difference here.
The padam represents the acme of sringara. In traditional singing, its subtle rhythms channel the moods into intricate nuances. In shedding this grid, Gurucharan and Srinivasan lost out on those piercing moments. But they treated “Paiyyada” (Nadanamakriya) with care, trying to evoke the grief of the once-loved, now-rejected woman with full throated singing, and a consciously non-intrusive piano. The artistes have yet to find their own ways of creating the splendour of the traditional padam in the new mode.
Nor was Bhakti forgotten – both the reflective and passionate. Grasp of their own genres, and integrity to their own styles, made Sadasiva Brahmendra’s “Bruhi Mukundeti” emerge in new shades. The canny piano evoked unusual glints in the simple raga. No overload either.
Brahmendra’s “Sarvam Brahmamayam” (Madhuvanti) was contrastively shaped - with alapana and swara banked by an aptly chosen sarangi. Mishra Kahmmaj too was enlivened by sarangi shades. The most reverberant presentation was Mirabai’s “Hari tum haro” in Darbari Kanada. Voice and piano filled the hall and achieved total engagement with listeners. Vatsalyam (affection for the child) was touched by the famous Malayalam lullaby “Omana tingal” composed for Swati Tirunal. Every word was savoured by lips and fingers.
Srinivasan and Gurucharan enjoy a visible rapport, reflected not only in the music, but also in the choice of the lyrics. Old and new, in different languages, it is this poetry that guides the shaping of the melody. Hopefully, this approach is carried by Gurucharan into his Carnatic cutcheris as well.
However, the recital suffered from an apparent lack of planning. The first part was too long, too slow, and with no variations in tempo. Everything began to sound similar. The restrained piano was reduced to remaining an accompanist. A balance of roles would add to the musical values of the genre as a whole and avoid monotony. After all, unvaried chauka kalam can command only short-span interest. It prevents any expansion into a full-fledged performance for the world stage.
It is natural to conclude that more piano and more harmonic elements would create a distinctive identity for this style. Also, a different balance where vocal alapana vivifies the strings to complement the piano’s banking of the voice. Otherwise their songs will emerge as merely new-fangled renderings of the Carnatic mode.
Role of accompanists
Nor were the roles of accompanists Vedanth Bharadwaj (guitar), Murad Ali Khan (sarangi) and Mysore V. Srikanth (violin) clearly defined for performing together. Fine artistes each, their playing seemed an ad hoc affair. The kanjira (B. S. Purushotthaman) was mostly silent, unsure of why it was on the stage. And why did everyone not come together even once?
Colour of Rain attracted listeners first because it was painted by young, sensitive musicians. Secondly by its unpretentious, gimmicks-free melodiousness. But it is time for prime movers Srinivasan and Gurucharan to realise that they have only scratched the surface of an evolving genre. The possibilities are immense and waiting to be discovered. Rain does not paint a single colour but a whole spectrum. And spectacular rainbows.
GOWRI RAMNARAYAN
Printer friendly
page
Send this article to Friends by
E-Mail
Metro Plus
Bangalore
Chennai
Hyderabad
|
