True resonances

Anoor Ananthakrishna Sharma is one of the finest mridangam players today. His interest in percussion has taken him to several instruments, and he continues to run the path-breaking Laya Lahiri orchestra that his father, Anoor Ramakrishna started in 1981.

August 21, 2014 08:23 pm | Updated 08:23 pm IST - Bangalore

Percussion star Anoor Anantakrishna Sharma has accompanied top notch musicians and travelled widely Photo: Bhagya Prakash K

Percussion star Anoor Anantakrishna Sharma has accompanied top notch musicians and travelled widely Photo: Bhagya Prakash K

If Shivu’s around, there’s also a following with him. He’s everyone’s favourite ‘Shivu sir’, even though the concert stage knows him as Anoor Ananthakrishna Sharma. Among the most gentle and gracious musicians, Shivu, who says little but means a lot, is multifaceted. Apart from being singer, composer and a percussionist par excellence who can play a whole lot of instruments, Shivu is the most sought after guru, friend and confidante to many in the firmament of music. “ Shivu idre dhairya (Shivu’s presence gives courage),” you often hear, from a range of people. Apart from his stunning talent as a percussionist, Shivu invests equal commitment in the veteran he accompanies as he does in the newcomer who needs support and encouragement. As he settles down for a conversation in his music hall that has dozens of mridangams and other percussion instruments, you recognise that he will not say more than he intends to – feel good conversation is just not his forte.

Anoor Ananthakrishna Sharma comes from a family of musicians. Both his grandfathers played the veena and his father Anoor Ramakrishna played the violin. His father ran the Ayyannar School of Music which was started by T. Chowdiah in both Mysore and Bangalore. Ramakrishna was not Chowdiah’s student, but the legendary violinist had immense faith in his music and handed over the responsibility of running the school to him. Started in 1952, the school which was initially on H.B. Samaja Road and later moved to Jayanagar, was one of the most important music learning centres in Bangalore.

Even though Shivu could sing, play the veena and violin, he finally chose the mridangam. “That’s where my heart was. In 1979, I started learning from R.A. Rajgopal, who taught at the Ayyannar school.” Right from the beginning, Shivu was fascinated by all kinds of music – folk, devotional, sugama sangeeta, western classical and others. “These different ideas of music would work in my imagination and I always had dreams of doing many things in music. That’s also probably why I was drawn to various percussion instruments. Wherever I travel, the first thing that catches my attention is the percussion instrument native to that place. I have ended up collecting so many instruments,” he says. General opinion is that if you can play the mridangam, you can play tabla and pakhawaj also. However, this is far from truth. Each instrument must be approached differently, and since it has its own unique sound, the formation of rhythmic patterns will vary from one instrument to the other. Did his father, a chaste Carnatic musician approve of his eclectic tastes? “He wanted me to become a violinist. That did not happen. When he realised that my music stretched beyond the mridangam, he encouraged me.”

Anoor Ramakrishna was not only a devout musician, but a committed teacher as well. “He was extremely disciplined. He spent hours with his students and made sure they learnt what he was teaching. He gave himself completely to music. His way of thinking itself was unique. I can only talk about it, but could not achieve his excellence…,” says Shivu reflectively.

The times in which Ayyannar School of Music was established was also the time when musicians like Seshadri Gawai, H.V. Krishnamurthy, Gundashastri, Vishnu Bhave and others ran music schools in Bangalore, and gave Carnatic and Hindustani music a firm footing. It is also true that children from almost every middle class home learnt some form of music, which was believed to be as important as education itself. While there are still a large number of students who learn music, the purpose seems to have undergone a change. “Knowledge is something that you get from gruelling practice and undiminished passion. It is not an across the counter phenomenon as it is seen now. Since you pay a fee you are expected to show results at the end of six months? ‘Can my child perform in a reality show, earn popularity, win medals…’ so on and so forth.” From ‘learning’ for its own sake, to ‘achieving’ becoming the basis of every engagement, the way art is understood and pursued has come a long way. Notion of excellence, says Shivu, has changed dramatically. “My teacher used to say that you must forever be thinking about your music. Suppose, I wake you up in the middle of the night and say ‘play’, you should be able to. The brain and hand, idea and its realisation should constantly be working with each other. For the longest of time, I never even imagined of being a performer,” he recalls. But once he did become a performer, and an accomplished one, Shivu says that completely engrossing himself in the music and manodharma of the main performer formed a significant aspect of his seeking. “Tani is not the challenge. You can play a spectacular tani and prove your expertise, but being a good accompanist is important.” You have to be a shadow, not the evening one that is taller than you, but the one that walks with you. Anticipation is key, he says. “The great masters who have shaped and guided my music – Palani Subramanya Pillai, Dakshinamurthy Pillai, Murugabhoopathi, Mani Iyer, T.K. Murthy, Palghat Raghu, H.P. Ramachar, A.V. Anand, Rajakesari – there’s so much to learn from them. They were stars, but they believed that music was a collective effort, one leading the other.”

Just because you know who your music gods are, it doesn’t mean that they are the singular source of inspiration. You are learning all the time, from so many people. “Even from a musician on the streets!” he adds. “While you cannot boast of purity with so many ideas influencing you, you must be able to perceive how much of it is good for your own music,” reasons Shivu, who has composed music for several tv serials, cds and ballets.

The greatest masters of percussion have been non-Brahmins, and historically one knows that they haven’t been acknowledged duly by the music world. “Caste doesn’t ail the world of music alone. Even political parties that call themselves secular practice caste. The doors of our home and school were open to one and all. You can change many things by the way you live in in the present. I think it is time we stop harping on the ills of the past….,” observes Shivu.

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