The renowned violinist H.K. Narasimha Murthy is to aspiring violinists what P.S. Narayanswamy is to aspiring vocalists. With over 50 of his students performing across the world, HKN meshtru as he is fondly known, is not only a fine musician but also a wonderful teacher. His son H.N. Bhaskar, Mysore Srikanth, and H.M. Smitha are much sought after accompanists. The doors of his home in Mysore are always open, with students and others from the music community constantly streaming in and out. The extremely gentle HKN enquires them about their music, while his wife Rajalakshmi, an able musician herself, is more concerned if they need to be fed and watered. “But for my wife, neither my son Bhaskar nor me could have achieved anything much. Our house was always filled with musicians and students who were our extended family. Throughout the day and at all odd hours people have walked in to our house, and my wife has looked after everyone with care and affection, at the cost of her own music,” HKN says quietly.
As if in a reverie, he gets up from his seat and asks me to go up with him. “This is my music hall,” he shows me the large music room which is dotted with photographs of the Trinity, apart from his awards. “Every brick in this house breathes my father’s name,” he suddenly says. H.S. Krishnamurthy, his father, was a freedom fighter who was running a hotel Shankara Bhavana, in Holenarasipura. He was crazy about music, and came once a week to Mysore to learn mridanga from Venkatesh Thevar. He couldn’t pursue it with dedication because he was being constantly jailed because of his association with the freedom movement. However, he dreamt of making his children musicians. “When I had gained considerable proficiency in music, he once called me to his side and said, ‘even if you can earn only one meal a day, you must remain a musician. Don’t ever give up music,’”HKN recalls, as his eyes become moist.
In Holenarasipura, HKN recalls there were plenty of Nadaswara vidwans. One such musician was H.K. Narayana’s father Keshavaiah. He ran a music school called Sharada Sangeeta Patashala, and HKN went to learn from him. “Till I turned eight, I learnt from him. Then my father sold the hotel and we moved to Channarayapatna. A middle school teacher H.P. Puttaswamaiah was well versed in music, he took me on as his disciple, but told me my voice was not good and shifted me to learn the violin. So that was the beginning of my association with the violin. Two years later he got transferred, and I was left high and dry. But my father knew of H.V. Krishnan, a violin teacher in Hirisaave, a neighbouring village.” So every Saturday, after school, HKN took the afternoon bus and travelled 14 miles to Hirisaave. He returned home on Sunday evening, after his weekly lessons. “At the same time, a very good musician called M.P. Puttaswamaiah came and settled in Channarayapatna. He asked me to take lessons from him, and I began to simultaneously learn from two teachers.”
HKN moved to Mysore for his college education. His father’s classmate A.K. Venkatanarayana, known as piteelu Mutthanna, became his guardian in Mysore. “My father thought it would help me staying with them. I could learn music and also go to college from there. It was 100 per cent music in their house. Someone or the other was constantly playing music, 24 hours. Mutthanna’s son Sridhar was a khanjira player, Prakash was a flautist, and then there was a constant flow of students and musicians, it was an overdose for me. There were days when their practise went on till 4 am in the morning. I couldn’t even sleep. Moreover, I was an average student, and since in their house I could not even concentrate on my studies, I failed.” HKN refused to stay there and went back to Channarayapatna. He returned to Mysore for his graduation and joined the Hoysala Karnataka hostel in 1962. In these years, HKN went to Bidaram Krishnappa Mandira and listened to a lot of concerts. He heard the legendary violinist M.S. Gopalakrishnan in one of the concerts, and since then nurtured the dream of learning from him.
But life had other plans for HKN. His father asked him to join the music college in Mysore after his graduation. The extraordinary S. Mahadevappa was the teacher there. HKN was happy to be trained by him. Around this time that M.S. Gopalkrishnan came to Mysore to accompany Balamuralikrishna. HKN met MSG and expressed his desire to learn under him. “I will be coming to Bangalore next week, meet me there.” MSG listened to HKN in Bangalore and said: “If you come to Madras I will teach.” HKN packed his bags and left to Madras.
Though HKN was by then an advanced disciple, MSG insisted that he learn the fingering techniques of the Parur school. His father Parur Sundaram Iyer began to give him lessons in their style. “I was very lucky to become his student. He was very strict and did not believe in wasting even a minute. Suppose I had finished my lessons for the day and hadn’t left for home, Sundaram Iyer would ask: ‘why are you wasting time here? Can’t you go home and practise. Leave now,’ he would insist. Sundaram Iyer was methodical, he would not compromise on anything. “
His years in Madras were intellectually exciting and he met several stalwarts. He listened to a lot of music, and in the evenings spent time in the homes of K.V. Narayanaswamy, D.K. Jayaraman, Kalyanaraman, Ramani and several other maestros. They would practice and HKN listened. Or at times, he played the violin along. “They were great musicians, but simple, Money hardly came in the way of music. The dollar hadn’t yet come into the picture and it was a lovely world. They worshipped music.” When HKN invited the Bombay sisters and O.S. Tyagarajan to Mysore, all he could pay them was Rs, 100! Umayalapuram Sivaraman would go around on his bicycle. “Those were the days when people didn’t chase material pleasures. They valued friendship.”
Gradually, MSG considered HKN a part of their family. In fact, Parur Sundaram Iyer and his two illustrious sons, Gopalakrishnan and Anantharaman taught HKN. He would spend long hours in their house, and each lesson was perfected under the taskmasters. HKN used to practice for a minimum of six to seven hours apart from the long hours of classes. The Parur school insisted on knowing the sahitya, and if HKN did not go back to class knowing the Sahitya, it was not accepted at all. HKN remembers how Sundaram Iyer would be sitting in the adjoining room while his classes were going on, but his mind was so tuned to the lessons, that a small miss would immediately come to his attention. Even with own children, Sundaram Iyer was very exacting. Once, he took MSG to task that a note that he was playing was not upto the mark. MSG tried convincing him that it was his failed hearing that was finding fault; but Sundaram Iyer would not let go off MSG till he was totally satisfied.
During that period, there was also a strong emergence of many schools of violin. Sundaram Iyer was among the first Carnatic musicians to have Hindustani training as well. He learnt from Vishnu Digambar Paluskar. M. Chandrashekaran’s violin had nadaswaram influence. Lalgudi Jayaraman’s music was a unique blend of both the nadaswaram and vocal. Dwaram Venkataswamy Naidu played with a western influence and so did V. Lakshminarayanan and his three sons. V.V. Subramanyam, and T.N. Krishnan also came with strong personal idioms. Didn’t HKN find it difficult to shape his own creative expression amidst these many schools? “I already had several schools of thought within me. The Parur bani polished my thinking and articulation, but I do not think I play pure MSG style. MSG’s daughter Narmada plays the pure style. However, when I teach, it is purely MSG style. Teaching has to always be traditional. But when you begin to think on your own, you can follow your heart. Every flower comes with its own fragrance, isn’t it?”
For someone who was doing so well and was happy in Madras, why did he return to Mysore? “I was very happy. I was getting many concerts and had travelled widely with Bombay sisters. I had become very close to Pattammal’s family. But there were moments when I worried about my future. What if I do not get a concert tomorrow – I would ask myself? Moreover, my father wanted to have me back in Mysore. He got a job in AIR, Mysore with which there was no There was no financial uncertainty, but the job was not fulfilling. HKN had to play for all kinds of artistes, including sugama sangeeta singers, some of whom couldn’t even hold a note straight. “I would feel frustrated.” He decided that his son Bhaskar should be made free from this worry of everydayness, and told him to pursue music single mindedly without worrying about livelihood. “I had promised him that come what may, I will take care of him. But God has been gracious. Bhaskar is one of the leading violinists today...,” says HKN.
However, good a violinist is, there are hardly any solo concerts. “Violin as an instrument came into Carnatic music for accompaniment. It is a challenging job, your preparation must be twice that of the vocalist. It is more difficult to be an accompanist than a soloist.” Musicians like MSG were so gifted that vocalists did not want to have them as accompanists for fear of being overshadowed. Once, he remembers, in a concert in Mysore when MSG played for M.D. Ramanathan, the latter was furious that he got more applause. Ramanathan was furious. “Women did not have this problem. They were more liberal. My guru, therefore accompanied the leading women musicians of those times. He also began to play solo for lack of opportunities as an accompanist. The reverse was also true. A talented musician like Kanyakumari did not get enough opportunities to play with male musicians because she was a woman.”Musicians were conservative in those days. Ramani, Semmangudi, K.V. Narayana Swamy and many others never wanted women to play for them.
True to what Sundaram Iyer told him, HKN continues to propagate the Parur bani in Mysore. He spends eight to nine hours on his students, but laments their lack of seriousness. “I am very proud of Srikant and Smitha, they are like my own children,” he says.
HKN goes back to memories of his father. “My sister and I would be sitting upstairs and practicing music. My father would be in the hotel downstairs. Every few minutes he would climb the stairs to check if we were seriously at it. That scene is etched within me.... I owe everything to him,” he trails off.
