(This is an article which appeared in The Hindu dated January 13, 1963.)
Two evenings last week-end were given over to the privilege and pleasure of listening to Sri Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar at the Mylapore Fine Arts Club. The performances enabled us to hear all the thirty songs of the famous Tiruppavai.
Sri T.N. Krishnan accompanied him on the violin on both days and Sri Ramabhadran on the mridangam on the first occasion and Sri Sivaraman on the next. The audience consisted of those who could relish the special importance of the occasion and the music.
Ariyakudi began on Saturday evening with a characteristically brisk varnam and went on to render ‘Guruleka’ which, too, was an appropriate choice, considering that he was given able backing at both performances by his sishyas, Sri Rajam Iyer and Sri Krishna Iyengar.
It is on the sishyas, the various Ekalavyas, our gifted amateurs and our devout womenfolk that the further propagation and popularisation of the Ariyakudi version of Tiruppavai depends. His setting of the songs to music will live to become traditional.
From then on, we had 15 Tiruppavai songs that evening and the rest on Sunday. In rendering songs like these, a delicate balance has been struck between the various demands on the singer.
First comes the sense of the songs which depends upon the clarity of expression and the intimate alliance between words and ragas so as to emphasise emotional content. Secondly, the performances are not mere recitals of songs; they are full-fledged cutcheris. We wish to hear yet again with undiminished pleasure the Ariyakudi version of all our well-known ragas. We want to see what kinds of swaras he will pour forth with un-premediated ease.
Thirdly, we have in us, perhaps in secret, a feeling that two consecutive performances of this kind would be a bit too much if not to the artistes at least to the audiences. But we know Ariyakudi has that gift which many vocalists do not have of being able to judge the temper of an audience to a nicety and adjusting his tempo accordingly.
He sends us home at a stage when we are still all Oliver Twists!
In every way, Ariyakudi fulfilled our expectations, especially on Saturday evening. A friend who had come home for a brief holiday after some years in the United States was enthralled by the performance. When song succeeded song, with just that right emphasis on raga, swara, neraval and sahitya, it seemed to him as if he was listening not to one musician or to one performance but to all Carnatic music as practised today! He heard the five Gana ragas to begin with and these were followed by Sankarabharaam, Dhanyasi, Thodi, Bairavi, Kedara Goula, Atana, Huseni and others. If he had been able to attend on Sunday, he would have heard a fine rendering of Khamboji, Saveri, Sahana, Suratti and Purvikalyani, among others.
What more can a member of the audience ask for, except perhaps a pallavi and a thillana! We had, too, ragas like Nadanamakriya, Kuntalavarali, Manirang and Senjuruti. Sri Krishnan was in top form, inevitably raising the argument whether he or Sri Jayaraman was our greatest violinist today! The answer surely is that they are equally great and that a little personal predilection is as inevitable in our estimate of them as it used to be in our assessment of the rival claims of Minakshisundaram Pillai and Panjami in days past.
Sri Ramabhadran was mellifluous in accompaniment while Sri Sivaraman was tops in both -- in accompaniment and in the “solo chance.” Sri Sivaraman is fast qualifying for the position of being second only to Palghat Mani Iyer.
The one final test of music of this rare type is this: does it haunt our memory? Does it come flooding back into our ears when we lie sleepless in the darkest hour before dawn? Does it provoke in us immortal longings? Does it make us grope for a sense of identity with God, to put it plainly? That is the purpose of Tiruppavai. Here, a sense of rapport between the singer and you in the audience is essential.
We must answer these questions individually, (many may not even like these very intimate questions to be asked!) and honestly to ourselves. I consider my presence at these performances my good fortune.
Nothing could have been more appropriate to the month of Margazhi.
