“Naga-swaram players are often associated all their lives with the temple they play in, being initiated into the tradition from a very early age. They are the repositories of immense musical knowledge and wisdom. Herein lies the beginnings of both classical music and dance in Tamil Nadu, a threshold, never fully crossed till today, between ritual and performance!” says Soudhamini, a documentary filmmaker, now settled in Bengaluru.
Incidentally, her documentary, ‘Koyil Nagaswaram (The Temple Nagaswaram),’ was commissioned by the Films Division, Government of India, Mumbai.
The less-than-an-hour film covers central Tamil Nadu, which is dotted with temples and where temple musicians were contacted for this documentary.
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Nagaswaram making is generally considered a waning skill. “It does not seem so”, affirms Soudhamini, who vouches that “the instrument maker was actually declining fresh orders, as he has no time!”
The film opens with a solo nagaswaram player in the wide-pillared hall of a temple, playing an alapana. The filmmaker reaches Mayiladuthurai after a car journey and meets the nagaswaram player. “Shall I play Bilahari ragam?” asks Injikudi E.P. Ganesan.
“It is as if the nagaswaram was created solely for the temple. It is known to be an auspicious instrument. If you hear it being played, you can be sure, something auspicious is happening close by. It has somehow managed to retain its divine link to this day!” says Ganesan.
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He continues, “There are specific rules governing the playing of nagaswaram during temple rituals - at 5 a.m., around 8 or 9 a.m. and at noon. Then three times in the evening, and wraps up by 9 p.m. when the Gods are put to sleep.
“There is a prescribed nagaswaram music for each occasion. During the festivals, the Gods are taken out in a procession through the streets at night. It would often be dawn, before they returned to the temple. Throughout the night, the vidwan would play a single raga for four to five hours, and the people had the patience to listen.
“Many vidwans have played this way, including my father and others such as Tiruvengadu Subramania Pillai, Tiruppampuram Brothers, Keeranur Brothers, Tirumarugal Natesa Nayanakarar, Koranattu Natesa Pillai, and Chidambaram Vaidyanatha Pillai.”
“The Temple gopuram is of Tiruvavaduthurai,” says Soudhamini, as the scene moves to a huge white Nandi of Tiruvidaimarudur. In the silence, one hears the soft tinkle of the girl’s anklets, as she approaches the temple. A priest walks in.
Sakthivel Asari explains the origin of nagaswaram, linking it to the Ramayana period. “The wood is Aachcha maram, a species that existed from Ramayana days. It is referred to as a deathless tree. While making the nagaswaram, they invoke the sun, moon, then invite the swaras, the seven maidens, and only then the instrument will achieve full resonance. The swaras that create the nadham have to be established.”
Senthil Asari goes on to say that the sound of one nagaswaram will not be found in another. He says that the measurement was passed on to him by his grandfather, NLK Kandasami Asari. In reply to the filmmaker’s question on whether each Asari uses a different measurement, he affirms and explains that is how clarity of the sound of different instruments vary. “Although there are several ways of measuring, we still use the palm leaf to plot the attendant notes.” He drills each of the notes carefully and precisely by the markings he has made earlier.
Injikudi Ganesan plays the notes and then begins to illustrate the various ways of playing with different breathing techniques. He explains the thuthakaram, ahaara and thannakaram methods, viral-adi (finger tapping) method and says there are many aspects of playing, but one has to practice each of them 100-200 times. In short, the whole body has to participate while playing this instrument, he adds.
About the ‘seevali’, Muthuraman, a third generation seevali maker, explains, “Seevali is a kind of grass. It does not perform the same way all the time or through the seasons. The seevali is made from a reed growing on the banks of the Cauvery in Thanjavur District.” This korukka thattai as it is called, is first collected and dried in the sun, kept in a bundle up in the attic, where it stays for a full year to become supple before it is is further treated and shaped into a seevali.
In Tirumazhichur temple, Tiruppamparam Sivasubramania Pillai, the grand-old man is interviewed. “It was Rajaratnam Pillai who came and changed all the prevailing practices. He lowered the pitch and reduced the blaring sound to suit the concert hall. At that time, the Bari nayanam was introduced!” he says.
“My grandfather learnt all the songs directly through the sishya parampara of saint Tyagaraja. The text, the sahityam, is important for nagaswaram. It is the sahityam that blends the notes together!” he says, breaking into a song to illustrate his point.
As for Mallari, he says, “The concept of Mallari is simply that the God is dancing to the music. There are just swaras and talas. There is no sahityam in Mallari.”
In Chidambaram, the duo, Tiruppampuram Meenakshisundaram Pillai and Sivasubramania Pillai play reverentially with two thavils, ending with the Bharatanatyam by S. Jayachandran of Kalakshetra.
While the subject specialist has been Dr. S.A.K. Durga, a large team of scholars, experts and technicians such as Dr. B.M. Sundaram, Aravind Gandhi, Geetha Rajagopal, Sembanarkoil Rajanna, Janakiraman, Kanthinathan, Thanjavur Govindarajan, Vedaranyam Balasubramaniam, Haridwaramangalam Pazhanivel, Sadanand Menon, Pandanallur Kalidas, Suresh, Karunanidhi, Vanathi Raghuraman, Ritesh, Srutisagar, Sujatha Kannan, Sridhar and Gurumurthy have helped Soudhamini to complete the film.
The film is dedicated to the 86-year-old Tiruppampuram Sivasubramania Pillai, who passed away just three months after the film was shot.