“I t is definitely an honour and I feel proud on behalf of all accompanists and solo instrumentalists. More than anything else, as a woman, it is indeed a crowning glory,” says Avasarala Kanyakumari, chosen for Sangita Kalanidhi, which will be conferred at the Sadas of The Music Academy on January 1, 2017.
“It is a huge boost for the violin,” repeats Kanyakumari, who creates opportunities to showcase the instrument, an extension of her personality. “There is nothing that the violin cannot express,” she reiterates. She should know, having helmed many offbeat ventures and participated in countless fusions. “As long as it falls within the parameters of tradition, innovation is fine,” she asserts.
The conversation returns to MLV, naturally, several times. “Her thirst for creativity might have rubbed on me,” laughs Kanyakumari. “Ever the adventurer, MLV amma came up with something new in every concert. Alapana, swaras and niraval all had her touch. ‘Follow the Dwaram school, but develop individuality. Never compromise your imagination,’ she often told me,” she reminisces.
Does Kanyakumari remember the first occasion, when this creative urge found expression?
“Of course,” responds the exponent. “The veena-violin-venu combination, Lalgudi Jayaraman’s brainchild, was a hit. I wondered why not try the nagaswaram instead of the flute. Now, the mangalavadya is anything but soft. Will it go with the other two? I had doubts too but was not going to retreat. Mambalam Siva came into the fold (thanks to Srimushnam Raja Rao) with Vijayalakshmi, vainika, and myself making up the trio. The concert presented by Kalarasana was a huge success. Semmangudi liked it so much that he invited us to perform at his grandson’s wedding. We went on to present many more and cut albums.”
Was there criticism?
“Certainly. Some said it was preposterous to put the nagaswaram on the dais along with instruments known for melody. You know something... Siva actually plugged an air hole with cotton so that the output was not too loud,” smiles Kanyakumari. The effect was sowkhyam.
A decade later, her outings with Kadri Gopalnath became popular. “It is more jugalbandi with both having equal opportunities,” observes Kanyakumari. “I decide to participate only when I’m convinced that there is scope for my talent. Challenge inspires me,” she adds. “Why, there were misgivings when I teamed up with U. Shrinivas. But violin and mandolin sounded so mellifluous together, individuality intact,” she points out. True, the effect is that of a sparkling stream flowing.
The exponent is known for her group presentations. The laya ensemble consisting of violin, flute, mridangam, ganjira and ghatam was one of her first forays in this direction. Performances with 25, 75 and 100 violins followed winning accolades.
The sweep of her creative curve has touched many high points, including the suite of seven ragas that she dedicated to the Seven Hills. The 108-ragamalika, which she conceived and presented along with her disciples for Naada Neerajanam, is a seamless flow of melody. With the essence captured in two or three phrases and the raga mudra, the vocal expression of the garland is a valuable lesson for an aspiring student.
Can ragas be created? After all everything falls within the seven swaras. Kanyakumari is aware of the scepticism. “Yes, the base is the seven swaras. But the scope is limitless. A lot of research goes into these efforts. Care should be taken to adhere to the grammar with an eye on the aesthetics. Rakti is vital. Only when a creation satisfies all these parameters will it stand the test of time,” she says.
Relentless work and optimism are behind her success story. “When MLV amma suddenly passed away, the future seemed a question mark,” she recalls. “I had lost my mentor. Tragedy struck in October with her concert at the Music Academy fixed for December 29. Where did that leave me? Certainly I couldn’t ask the organisers about the alternative. Those were the days, when women accompanists were not accepted by some male musicians. Then I got this phone call from ‘Autoparts’ Natarajan, who said, ‘Will you accompany Ramani?’ I thought my prayers were answered.”
The ace flautist encouraged the young accompanist, a fact she remembers with warmth.
Kanyakumari won the first prize in the Music Academy competitions, which might not be a surprise. What surprised her was getting a slot in the sub-senior concert schedule. “That was a great fillip. It gave me the opportunity to play for eminent musicians such as Bombay Sisters, Mani Krishnaswamy and R. Vedavalli. Her performance drew this comment from Subbudu: “This Kanyakumari glitters like the famous nose jewel of the deity of Cape Comorin.”
A vital dimension of this simple diva is that of a teacher. The irony is that she never wanted to be one because it would be demanding. She was so busy performing and practising that she chose to keep away from teaching. Destiny thought otherwise, landing ten-year old Embar Kannan at her doorstep. Kannan’s father insisted that she teach taught the boy, at her convenience.
So the lessons began. Sanjeev came and Nishant... the brood simply got bigger. Prasanna (guitar), then an IIT student, said learning from her was his dream. “A hard-working artist, he would come home at 10 p.m. to sit with me,” informs the proud teacher. Veena Mudikondan Ramesh is her disciple and so also keyboard Sathyanarayana.
It is to the Almighty’s grace that Kanyakumari attributes her success. The Divine Couple of Tirumala are her parents, Vinayaka being the elder brother. “They never let me down,” she asserts. The saffron attire underlines her philosophy. “I decided quite early in life that I wouldn’t get married and it was accepted by my parents,” she reveals.
That has given Kanyakumari a huge family. “Yes, not only the students, even their parents shower affection on me. What a beautiful return gift,” her voice tapers off into a whisper her eyes looking heavenward.
