An ode to the sheer joy of singing is how Raji Gopalakrishnan’s vocal concert in the morning series could be described. Delightfully untouched by the prevailing penchant for hype-driven self-aggrandisement, euphemistically christened ‘inclusive’ classical music, Raji simply did what she does best — sing. Serenely, intelligently and from the heart.
In an intriguing line up of compositions, three focal renditions constituted the crux of the vocalist’s communication with her listeners. The first was an alapana in Sarasangi (aka Sourasena in Muthuswami Dikshitar’s ‘asampurna mela paddhati’). Delicately filigreed at the panchama and dhaivata, the raga soared to a tryst with the tara sthayi gandhara. The kriti ‘Nee kela dayaradhu’ (Ramaswami Sivan) commandeered attention, as did its swaroopa-affirming sarvalaghu and poruttam-studded kalpanaswaras at two alternating eduppus.
The second was the main piece in Natakurinji. In a comprehensive portrait, bhava-steeped madhyama-kala sancharas landing on the madhya sthayi shadja whetted your appetite. A feast was served up at the gandhara and a nuanced madhyama, while approaches from multiple angles revealed variegated facets of the dhaivata. Tara sthayi prayogas melded both azhuttam and sensitive touches in a rain of benediction. Tyagaraja’s ‘Manasu Vishaya’ rippled with the reflected light of niraval and swarakalpana in two speeds.
Vivid collage
The third was an RTP in Suddha Dhanyasi. The raga segment exuded charm. Initially centred at the panchama, the alapana was a vivid collage of liquid glides, glowing passages and endearing whimsy. This was also where violinist Raghavendra Rao came into his own, maximising the instrument’s potential and unleashingmelody in his delineation, skimming three octaves. The luminous arc of the ragamalika tanam slid over an effervescent Mohanakalyani, a graceful Tilang and an elegant Ritigowla, with mridangam joining in midway. Raji breezed through the pallavi ‘Kannanai, Manivannanai ……’ set to misra triputa tala in chatusra nadai (11x4=44 units), ragamalika swaras in Mohanakalyani, Mahati (a tribute to the late M. Balamuralikrishna) and Ritigowla and viloma, pratiloma and chatusra tisram with ease.
The kutcheri opened with the enchanting Madhyamavati varnam ‘Saraguna Nannela’ (Tiruvotriyur Tyagaiyer), Raji proceeded to ‘Ee Vasuda’ (Sahana, Tyagaraja) with swarakalpana, followed by ‘Ardhanareeswaram’ (Kumudakriya, Muthuswami Dikshitar). Post Sarasangi, the artiste mined the bhava trove of ‘Devi Brova Samayamidhe’ (Chintamani, Syama Sastri). A haunting ‘Nee Valayinche’ (Chaya Ranjani, GNB) with its cache of signature aesthetics, echoed long after the last notes had faded.
Rich tonal variations and intricate sollus blended nadam with sowkhyam in Thanjavur Ramadas’s mridangam accompaniment and tani with G. Ravichandran (ghatam) and A.S. Krishnan (morsing).
Whether in the intuitive play of anuswara or in her consistent connect to the emotive core of lakshana and lakshya tropes, Raji was comfortable in the skin of her music. Maturity added sheen and resonance to tone. Perhaps the artiste’s greatest triumph was that she succeeded in invoking the spirit of MLV, her manasika guru. Not through imitation or surface embellishment, though. While the artiste’s cadences bore a startling similarity to those of the legendary vidushi, it wasn’t only about tonal quality. Approach and osmosis, both conscious and unconscious, contributed to the impact. And that is why Raji’s offering came across as a heartfelt thanksgiving for the miracle that is music.
