(Continued from last week)
Staying at his guru’s house opened a rich, new world for TKM. He met some of the greatest musicians of Carnatic music and the intense interactions his guru had with them enriched his knowledge. “My guru would think about nothing else but music – it was his 24 hour pre-occupation. He would give us lessons even at 12 midnight. If he felt he had to teach us something, he would wake us up at 4 a.m. and start teaching!”
Along with his guru, TKM had gone to the wedding of violinist Rajamanickam Pillai’s daughter. Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar was singing at the wedding and guru Vaidyanath Iyer was accompanying him. The legend Dakshinamurthy Pillai was to play mridangam for Karaikkudi brothers. “Can you imagine my happiness?” he says with childlike glee. “They were a whole galaxy of musicians present there -- Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavathar, Maharajapuram Vishwanatha Iyer Kumbakonam Azhaganambia Pillai and several others. I had longed to see all of them and here they were before me! There was more surprise – my guru asked me to accompany Ramanuja Iyengar for one of his concerts.” After that, TKM recalls how Ramanuja Iyengar would write letters to him asking him to accompany him on his concerts. “My guru was a huge Banyan tree and we were like the aerial roots, but unlike the common saying that nothing grows under the tree, he made sure that all his students excelled.”
How did Mani Iyer and he, trained under the same guru, shape an art that was so distinct from each other? Creativity is what makes all the difference, says TKM. “We had an extraordinary guru, and got to listen to some of the best musicians. What we imbibed and absorbed into our artistry depended largely on our individual talent.” Everything that musicians of the later years did had already been accomplished by the great masters, says TKM. “We have all tried very hard to incorporate the essence of their music into ours, but it is not easy.” I recalled a lecdem that TKM had presented at the Music Academy in which he demonstrated the styles of all the masters. “I have high regard for Palani Subramania Pillai, a genius who was unfortunately denied the recognition he should have got. Do you know that Dakshinamurthy Pillai was a very austere musician? He ate just once a day and slept on the floor. But when he put his hands on the mridangam it was magic! Look at us – we have several meals a day and live a good life, yet we feel we lack nourishment and energy when we play. I believe it is a matter of will and passion, and not entirely on energy like we think it is….,” TKM pauses, trying to regain his emotional composure. He says that how the Pudukottai school of mridangam has more or less disappeared, barring a few practitioners. “Almost everyone who plays now, plays the Tanjavur style. While I am happy that this school of music lives on immortalizing the likes of my guru, I am sad that a highly evolved style like the Pudukkottai has few takers.” Story goes that TKM who was son to his guru gave up all the ornaments that his guru had given him on his demise. Till today, he observes all the customs that a son does to his parents after they leave the mortal world.
TKM has achieved a rare feat – he has composed 108 talas. Having played for every form – harikatha to traditional folk forms to classical music – TKM’s repertoire is huge. Drawn from various sources, he has composed these talas which scholars and practitioners say is unparalleled. And like his memory for the past, he remembers each of this without a fault. He has hundreds of stories about GNB (“his favourite musician”), Madurai Mani Iyer, Rangu Iyer, Musiri Subramanya Iyer, Naina Pillai, Tiger Varadachariar, Palladam Sanjeeva Rao and several others.
Why does one feel that laya is an inherent part of the main melody only when the likes of TKM, Raghu and Mani Iyer? Why does one feel that a raga and the composition is heard in their delineation? “I have no answer to that question… but I am glad that it happens to the listener. I know for sure that both Mani Iyer and I followed vocal music very carefully. In fact, I even learnt it for a few years. Also, we were both very concerned about the lyrics of the composition. The common perception is that laya has nothing to do with bhava, that’s not true.”
In these eight decades as a musician TKM is an institution in himself – several foreign universities have based their projects on the works of TKM. Ask him what he thinks is the most unforgettable incident in his life and he will tell you of an MS incident. “Once we were performing in a small town in Tamil Nadu. There was a huge crowd to listen to MS. So huge that it flowed out of the hall, and people sat on the nearby railway track. When a train came, people refused to get up. And the train had to just halt till the concert ended!” The other story he will tell you is of a vocal performance of Chittoor Subramania Pillai in Shankaraiah Hall, Bangalore. “There was a one hour tani avartanam and the audience didn’t move!”
Last week: > Sparrow's monstrous talent
