Partners in life and performance
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From Burra Katha to singing, dancing and mridangam playing, Narasimhachari is master of several skills. With talented wife, Vasanthalakshmi, he receives the Nritya Choodamani award conferred by the Sri Krishnagana Sabha this year. GOWRI RAMNARAYAN writes.
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"WHEN I was young my uncle told me, never go after awards, they should come after you. Just do your work as best as you can. An important lesson,'' smiles dancer/singer/mridangam artiste/stage actor/burra katha performer Narasimhachari who gets the Sri Krishna Gana Sabha's Nritya Choodamani this year with his life and stage partner Vasanthalakshmi.
Founder directors of Kalasamarpana (1969), the couple are at home in Bharatanatyam and Kuchipudi which they perform together, as also with daughters Lavanya and Lasya.
They have explored themes old and new through the 24 dance dramas they have choreographed. Among them are "The Voice of Ganga", "Bharati Kanda Bhaaratam" and a seven-language production on "Nava Vidha Bhakti". The artistes are happy to recall a sooladi sapta tala composition profiling Rukmini Devi, a burra katha on the Vijayanagara empire the couple performed in Paris, and the acquiring of the Devalaya Aradhana Nrityamulu tradition with its impressive tala chitra nrityam.
Narasimhachari's journey in the arts began in his mother's kitchen in hometown Rajamundry. Not a dancer herself, she was still able to secretly teach her two sons all that she observed when her husband Satyanarayanachari taught the members of his dance repertory.
Once she suggested he try out the boys for the parts of two absent artistes. Stunned to see that they knew the whole repertoire, the father put them through a day and night regimen. Soon they became the mainstay of his shows.
``My father knew music and dance, he played a range of instruments from veena to jalatarangam. From him I learnt that keenness is vital,'' says Narasimhachari. The next 10 years (1948-1958) saw the brothers touring every village of Andhra Pradesh, with 25 shows per month. Little Simham played Menaka, Radha or Parvati to his brother's Viswamitra, Krishna or Siva.
``We were so well known to guards and engine drivers that our group got free rides on any train from Vizag to Madras. We had performed in every station in between!''
What surprises us today is to learn that the father paid a monthly salary to all troupe members who lived on the top floor of his house. ``No need to pay and perform like now.''
Cultural activities and financial support from villages and small towns were sufficient to maintain a year round repertory.
``I learnt music for the all night mythological plays where you had to sing five minutes ragam for a one minute padyam. They had unending dialogue too.'' The experience was very valuable when the brothers and sister launched their own Simham company after the father's death, and started staging burra katha everywhere.
Burra katha is demanding. ``You had to know the whole story by heart and improvise according to the audience's needs. You recited, spoke, sang, played the tambura with one hand, kept the rhythm with the three percussive rings. I also introduced dancing.''
The stories were from legends (`Ramayana') and history (`Bobbili yuddham'). They even performed for President Rajendra Prasad and in the homes of leading politicians in New Delhi.
In Chittoor, the sponsor got angry because the audience was sobbing over the boy killed on the war field. He wanted a jolly tale. ``With the presence of mind we had acquired out of necessity I asked my brother to act the clown. The weeping turned to laughter.''
At a club in Nandyal they began before empty chairs but their charged acting drew a record attendance. ``Instead of the promised Rs. 250, they gave us Rs. 750.''
The elder brother took up a regular job. But 14-year-old Narasimhachari was determined to stay with the arts. The family had shifted to Madras when the mother got a school teacher's job. That was where he had his first taste of academics.
Narasimhachari gets emotional when he talks about the single year he spent at the Tirupati College of Music where he learnt mridangam in addition to dance and music. ``I learnt four varnams a day — from Principal D. Pasupati, S. R. Janakiraman, Chitoor Subramania Pillai and V. N. Janakiraman who came home to teach. Singing them in two kalams and trishram, I developed a command of rhythm, a boon to nattuvangam and dancing.'' All shows for visiting dignitaries were choreographed by Simham, excellent training for the future.
Once on the train to Madras, Simham wondered about a short man in the first class, dressed in panchakacham, coat and turban. Fellow traveller uncle didn't know either but had the spunk to find out. Soon the compartment rang with Simham's music, dance and recitations. ``I drowned him in my own compositions too!'' An amazed Professor Sambamoorthy, musicologist and pioneer documentarist, encouraged the boy with encores.
After watching Simham's burra katha at the musicologist's 60th birthday celebrations, Rukmini Devi offered him a scholarship at Kalakshetra.
Professor Sambamoorthy became his mentor and advised him to take music as the main and dance as the subsidiary course. ``I entered Kalakshetra and stood entranced by the music I heard. The first thing I said to Rukmini Devi was, `Please can I learn from the `sir' singing under the tree'.'' It was M. D. Ramanathan.
The first year student in the Sangita Siromani course found himself teaching the final years. He had impressed the Principal with his padyams in Bhimplas and Kalyani.
After five years in Kalakshetra, Narasimham joined the Children's Garden School at the invitation of co-founder and hostel warden Sundaramma, who added the `chari' suffix to his name.
Her 11-year-old granddaughter, Vasanthalakshmi, became his pupil. She had a Canadian scholarship to study dance and music. Her family background was of musicians and writers empathising with the Gandhian ideology.
When he was offered a job in Singapore the 12-year-old girl accompanied the 24-year-old Narasimhachari as his wife. Their families accepted the match after the initial shock. ``Because of hostel life I was mature beyond my years,'' says Vasanthalakshmi. ``I knew he was the man for me. But I also know that something from above was the deciding factor.''
Back from Singapore the couple threw themselves into studying Kathak, Mohiniyattom and Odissi along with Kuchipudi and Bharatanatyam. ``My grandmother supported us through the 1970s and 1980s so we didn't have to worry about making money,'' Vasanthalakshmi explains. ``We could concentrate wholly on learning and choreography. Our first dance drama was about a man who had to beat his guru in four classical styles of dancing to win his daughter. We were making the point that art is not for hoarding but for sharing.''
Kalasamarpana fees were low so that for every dance drama funds had to be raised by pledging jewellery.
They were exciting times. Everything the couple read or saw inspired them to create something new.
Narasimhachari and Vasanthalaskhmi enjoy teaching and choreographing in the U.S. as artistes-in-residence at the University of Central Oklahoma.
The university released the second volume of Narasimhachari's four-part "Music of India" this year. It offers platforms for exchange with Western scholars and artistes like Dr. Samuel Magrill, ``who has now used the Mayamalavagowla and Amritavarshini scales in his compositions.''
Have there been difficulties in working together? Says Vasanthalakshmi, ``No two people can possibly agree on everything. Because we are in the same profession we speak the same language. But public response in praising one and criticising the other can create complexes. But basic trust can go a long way in fostering professional as well as personal bonds.''
``Bitter experiences are often a blessing in disguise,'' Narasimhachari adds. ``The difficulties we faced in youth have given us both insight and understanding into our own and other people's psyche. We have learnt to complement each other.''
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