Friday, June 26, 2009

The comedian's tragedy - N S Krishnan

Source http://www.hindu.com/mp/2008/12/15/stories/2008121551290800.htm

The comedian's tragedy

S. MUTHIAH

There's one more centenary I must remember before the year is out - and that is that of N.S. Krishnan, whom film historian Randor Guy calls `The King of Comedy'.

NSK, as he was known, was born in Nagercoil in 1908 to parents too poor to send him to school. But even if he had gone to school, it is a moot question as to how long he would have stayed in it, for even as a child he was fascinated by the stage. NSK was in his teens when he started working with one of the most famous Tamil travelling theatre companies of the time, TKS Brothers. It was a warm and successful relationship that lasted 10 years.

During that decade, NSK, who knew every role in every TKS play and could step into any of them at a moment's notice, moved from serious roles and the occasional singing one to comedy quite serendipitously. When the troupe's comedian went missing one day, NSK offered to play his role - and did so so innovatively, he became the troupe's comedian thereafter.

In 1935, when the whole cast of the TKS Brothers' play Menaka was hired for a film to be adapted from it, Krishnan's success in it launched him as a film comedian who became a legend in Tamil cinema. Film followed film - and when Vasanthasena came along he found himself not only starring with a new actress, T.A. Mathuram, but also falling in love with her. Till his death in 1957, they were a couple on stage as well as off it. In his later years, it was she who did much to keep the home fires burning.

It was in the mid-1940s, heading out to qualify as an engineer, that I got fascinated with journalism after reading The Hindu's splendid and detailed reporting of the Lakshmikantham Murder Case. The only better newspaper report of a trial I've come across was the one in The Times, London, on what became known as `The Trial of Lady Chatterly's Lover', the famous obscenity case that followed publication by Penguin of the D.H. Lawrence story that had long been banned in Britain. (For the record, Allen Lane, after winning the case, published the entire trial as a Penguin title!)

A major figure in the Lakshmikanthan murder case was NSK, who was one of the main accused. Thyagaraja Bhagavathar and Krishnan were found guilty and awarded life sentences. But on appeal to the Privy Council, they were acquitted in 1947. Thyagaraja Bhagavathar was never the same again - and the matinee idol of the Tamil cinema called it a day after a few flops. NSK fared better - and that had a lot to do with Mathuram.

While the case was going on, she did what she knew best to make the money necessary to fight the case; she started a drama troupe and had the best in the business to help her with it. She then started a film company - and its first production was just getting underway when NSK was released. He came out of prison, addressed a public meeting that had the crowd in splits hearing him narrate his prison experiences - and then he was ready to appear before the lights in Ennesskay Films' first production, Paithiakkaran.

Several successful films followed. At the same time, NSK, once a Periyar follower, became one of the leading lights of the Dravidian Munnetra Kazhagam. Between the film world and the world of politics, the hangers-on and sycophants were many. But he and Mathuram not only became unwisely generous with their money but they also began to burn the candle at both ends. All this contributed to NSK's death - and Mathuram having to live in near poverty till she died 10 years later. In their good days, however, there was no one else in their class in Tamil, nay Indian, filmdom when it came to comedy. If he was the `King of Comedy', she was, as Randor Guy emphatically adds, `The Queen of Indian Cinema Comediennes

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The maestro and his music

Source http://www.thehindu.com/fr/2009/02/20/stories/2009022050560200.htm

The maestro and his music

RANJAN DAS GUPTA

Pandit Ravi Shanker looks back at his film compositions.


I did not appreciate the popularisation of a divine instrument like the sitar though
I have highest regards for Salil (Chowdhury) as a composer.

Photo: AP

Stringing divinity: Pandit Ravi Shanker performing with his daughter Anoushka in Kolkata.

Pandit Ravi Shanker was recently in Kolkata to perform live with daughter Anoushka Shanker. As he himself says, “This is in all probability is my last concert in Kolkata. I am not keeping well and I don’t think my health will permit another visit to the City Of Joy.”

As he sips a glass of water in his luxury suite at a posh Kolkata hotel, the sitar maestro says, “You are asking me to speak about my compositions in films, is that not too stale a subject? I have not composed any film music in the past two and half decades. Bright, young talents like A.R. Rahman and Shantanu Moitra can speak much more about this aspect of filmmaking.”

On persuasion, he recollects, “I was introduced to films by the late Chetan Anand in ‘Neecha Nagar’, India’s first anti-imperialist film. The highly imaginative Chetan possessed a keen ear for classical melodies and used my sitar counters very well along with some dialectical montages in the film. He gave me the freedom to compose and did not interfere in my work. We again teamed successfully for the background score of his ‘Aandhiyan’ along with Ustad Ali Akbar Khan and Pannalal Ghosh.”

Apu trilogy

Ravi Shanker composed the tunes for K.A. Abbas’s “Dharti Ke Lal” based on Bijon Bhattacharya’s “Nabanna” after “Neecha Nagar” in 1946. Recalls Shanker, “‘Dharti Ke Lal’ required music with a tragic temperament as it was based on the Bengal famine. During those days our IPTA (Indian Peoples’ Theatre Association ) background was highly instrumental in shaping our work ideologies.” His greatest challenge though was to score the music for Ray’s Apu Trilogy in the mid-‘50s, which ushered in a revolution of sorts in film music. Hearing his compositions for the Ray masterpieces, Elia Kazan, the Greek-American award-winning film and theatre director and co-founder of the influential Actors Studio in New York, had commented, “A new genre of film music, fresh, melodious yet objective has been introduced by Ravi Shanker and his combination with the inimitable Satyajit Ray.”

The stalwart responds, “Here was a director who would never compromise nor allow me to go overboard. He was confident and rigid about exactly what he required from me or any of his composers. Ray himself was an outstanding composer and music sessions with him are still unforgettable. For the Apu Trilogy, he extracted the true essence of rural Bengal from me musically. Similarly, for ‘Parash Pathar’, he brought out of me music with a comic yet subtle touch which had ample depths. That was Ray, a director who believed in musical visualisation at its peak.”

Ravi Shanker scored popular numbers rendered by Mohammed Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar and Mukesh for “Anuradha” and “Godan” too. He comments, “Both the films required sober, touching music and neither director Hrishikesh Mukherjee nor Trilok Jaitley asked me to move on the populist track whilst scoring their music.” The ustad had criticised Salil Chowdhury’s usage of the sitar counter in the song “O Sajna, Barkha Bahar Ayi” in “Parakh”. He clarifies, “I did not appreciate the popularisation of a divine instrument like the sitar though I have highest regards for Salil as a composer.” Ravi Shanker remembers, “What talents the Indian film music had in the ’40s, ’50s and the ’60s. Naushad, Anil Biswas, S.D. Burman, Madan Mohan and Shanker Jaikishan belonged to an era when melody was the king. I was internally inspired to compete with these stalwarts whilst composing music for films. Some of their creations are much more popular than any of mine. Who can forget Naushad’s ‘Mohe Bhul Gaye Sawariya’ from ‘Baiju Bawra’ and ‘Katon Se Khich Ke Ye Anchal’ by S.D. Burman in ‘Guide’?”

By the time he scored for Gulzar’s “Meerabai” and Mrinal Sen’s “Genesis”, Ravi Shanker understood that he was losing his form as a film music composer. He analyses, “Film music is mainly dependant on scripts and special situations. It has constraints. Performing classical music has always been of much more interest to me. After ‘Genesis’, I decided to call it a day in films.”

Mrinal Sen, who directed “Genesis”, says, “I told Ravi Shanker to come out of the IPTA mould of music for ‘Genesis’. After seeing the first show of the film at Cannes, he severely criticised me for not using his music counters and experimenting with natural sounds instead. I politely explained to him that cinema is not only background score and during many sequences in ‘Genesis’, natural sounds were more essential than his compositions.”

Ravi Shanker agrees, “Today, I feel Mrinal was right in his assessment. Ali Akbar Khan stopped scoring for films after ‘Khudito Pashan’. Vilayat Khan only composed music for ‘Jalsaghar’. I should have stopped after the ’60s. Sitar jhankars during a live performance are really divine for me.”

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Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Scholar on a mission

Source http://www.hindu.com/fr/2008/11/07/stories/2008110751020300.htm

Scholar on a mission

S. SIVAKUMAR

Dr. Emmie finds Harikatha more direct, more authentic and more traditional.

Photo: M.Vedhan

MUSIC MATTERS: Dr. Emmie with Janakirama Bhagavathar

Dr. Emmie te Nijenhuis, a music scholar from Holland, has been coming to India since 1970 — this is her 11th visit — and is on a specific mission now. She studied Western Musicology, Classical Piano and Sanskrit in The Netherlands and then specialised in Indian musicology, to obtain her Ph.D. in 1970, from Utrecht University. She worked for 25 years as Associate Professor of Indian Musicology here.

“I timed my visit to India during this part of the year, as I found that in December everyone gets busy and is unable to spare any time. I wanted to look at Kathakalakshepam, which again is a vast subject.”

She then reasons out how she is always practical and “narrows her area of research to something compact, where I can complete my work according to schedule.”

The objective has been to look at live renderings of Bhadrachala Ramadas’s compositions as they are sung, differently, in Harikathas and in concerts. “I should thank Dr. Prameela Gurumurthy of the University of Madras who started organising things for me as soon as I went to her.”

Conscious decision

Dr. Emmie listened to a variety of performers during the three weeks of her stay: Dr. Kamala Murthy and Dr. Prameela — at the University of Madras — Kalyanapuram Aravamudhachariar at the Varasidhi Vinayagar temple, Janakirama Bhagavathar at the Music Academy, Udayalur Kalyanaraman at MATSCIENCE and Prof. Ramakrishna at the Telugu University at Hyderabad. And she has this to say: “In concerts, Ramadas’s kirtanas acquire the virtuosity and musical excellence of the singer and he adds his personality to it, but in the Harikatha, it is more direct, authentic, more traditional and probably more original. It is not merely the ragas but the original tunes themselves that are of importance to me.”

Dr. Emmie’s output is huge, caused by her conscious decision to pursue Sanskrit and Indian cultural history instead of the customary choice of Italian language. Her publications include historical works such as “Indian Music: History and Structure” (1974), “Musicological Literature” (1977), and “English translations of Sanskrit Texts on Sangitasastra” (Dattilam in 1970 and Sangitasiromani in 1992).

Not one to be enamoured of fusion, Dr. Emmie feels that there is nothing to fuse and any music will and need to exist on its own.

“The works of 17th century Western Classical Composers — Bach and others — were well-structured with wide scope for improvisations and variations like say the niraval or the pallavi of Carnatic music. Things have changed and it is all terse, written down music now,” she regrets.

Dr. Emmie plans to document the life and work of Papanasam Sivan and will be back in India soon. She recalls with gratitude the help rendered by Dr. Ramanathan in all her musical missions. One of her most memorable aesthetic experiences was a Kathakali performance in 1967-68. She expresses her special liking for the small modular introductory narration that always preceded the enactment of “each spectacle,” in Kathakali. Her father was a sculptor and all that she heard of Indian Art, Indian Philosophy and the Theosophical Society in those early years shaped her taste.

Praiseworthy

After listening to the concerts at the Spirit of Youth Festival organised by the Music Academy, Dr. Emmie was all praise for the Indian psyche that possesses a unique ability “to pick up, sort out and reinvent what is best for them from other cultures.”

Being a piano player herself, she reminds you that it took nearly 200 years for the piano to reach present form. She also learnt the veena and the sitar to practically orient herself to “experience the gamakas,” which can at best be played, to be understood.

Her dynamism and unclouded manner of speaking at her age - she is 77 – leaves you at the edge of your seat. And Music, one may conclude, is her religion - and faith.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Devdas (1955)

Source http://www.hindu.com/fr/2009/02/20/stories/2009022050660400.htm

BLAST FROM THE PAST

Devdas (1955)

Dilip Kumar, Suchitra Sen, Vyjayanthimala, Motilal


It was essentially Bimal Roy’s exceptional direction that earned the movie its rave reviews.


Melancholy reigns supreme in “Devdas”, a heartrending story of a lover committed to self-destruction, a story penned by a legendary writer and given the shape of an all-time classic by a master filmmaker. The timeless Saratchandra Chatterjee novel has been treated impeccably by Bimal Roy in this 1955 movie starring Dilip Kumar, Suchitra Sen, Vyjayanthimala and Motilal, a film that grows on you and ultimately leaves you devastated by the tragic end of the protagonist.

“Devdas” is a moving tale that revolves around three characters: Devdas (Dilip Kumar) and Paro (Suchitra Sen) are childhood sweethearts who grow up in a village. Their association assumes the form of love when they become adults but Devdas faces opposition from his father, who rejects their marriage proposal. Paro is married to a man twice her age with a grown up son and daughter while Devdas is packed off to Kolkata where he takes to drinking and comes into contact with Chunni Babu (Motilal), who introduces him to Chandramukhi (Vyjayanthimala), a dancer with a kind heart.

The dancer falls in love with Devdas, who is by now an incorrigible alcoholic, unaware of a reformed Chandramukhi’s feelings. The drinking drives him to death, the end coming at the door of Paro’s mansion. Devdas and Paro fail to meet and in that sombre moment the writer succeeds in evoking sympathy for the tragic hero, so brilliantly portrayed by Dilip Kumar. He was at his best in the film.

seeped in sorrow


“Devdas” was Bimal Roy’s tribute to a story seeped in sorrow, a most sensitive narration of a man who drinks himself into oblivion. Having worked as cameraman for the K.L. Saigal starrer “Devdas” in 1935, Bimal Roy waited 20 years to stamp his class on one of the most mournful stories ever. You feel it when Talat Mahmood renders the soulful “Mitwaa laagi re ye kaisi anbujh aag” and “Kis ko khabar thi kis ko yaqin tha aise bhi din aayenge.”

Dilip Kumar reportedly read the novel a few times before coming to terms with the character and is said to have taken a while to come out of the role, so stunningly enacted that it fetched him the Filmfare Award for best actor. Vyjayanthimala went on record to say that this was the role that actually launched her film career, transforming her from an acknowledged classical dancer into a respected actor.

It was Suchitra Sen’s debut in a Hindi movie and she left a lasting impression with her controlled performance, her beauty leaving the audience in a trance. The three main actors were so sincere to their job and given Bimal Roy’s abilities as a director of rare quality, they were bound to give memorable performances. This was a film that also features the great Pran in his tiniest role – a ten-second appearance at Chandramukhi’s kotha.

The movie fared reasonably at the box office even as it earned Bimal Roy the Filmfare Award for best direction, apart from supporting role honours for Motilal and Vyjayanthimala. It was essentially Bimal Roy’s exceptional direction that earned the movie its rave reviews.

There are some unforgettable landmark scenes that only Bimal Roy and Dilip Kumar could have produced. “Kaun kambakht hai jo bardaasht karne ke liya peeta hai, mai to peeta hoon ki bas saans le sakoon,” Dilip Kumar captures the drunken stupor of Devdas like none could have. And then towards a depressing climax when he mumbles to the cart driver on way to Manikpur, “Arre bhai ye raasta kya kabhi khatam nahi hoga,” desperate to meet Paro before his last breath, Dilip Kumar leaves the audience in tears. You may silently find yourself praying the cart flies to Manikpur.

The spellbinding cinematic effort is heightened by S.D. Burman’s music and a young Sahir Ludhianvi’s enduring poetry, a rich variety so beautifully documented in the Manna Dey-Geeta Dutt bhajan “Aan milo aan milo shyaam sanvare ... aan milo”, a Lata Mangeshkar solo “Jise tu kabu kar le vo sadaa kahaan se laun” and the unforgettable Mubarak Begum number, “Woh na aayenge palat kar unhen laakh hum bulaayen.”

“Devdas”, the one by Bimal Roy, alone brings alive the Saratchandra Chatterjee story, thanks to a combination of artistes who signify the essence of pure cinema.

* * *

Meticulous master



Joy Bimal Roy.

Joy was born the year “Devdas” was released and he was ten when he lost his illustrious father but the movie has remained close to his heart. “Baba never spoke to me specifically about the movie but over the years I gathered a lot. It was a great movie no doubt,” says Joy Bimal Roy.

“Baba was obsessed with making ‘Devdas’. There was no compelling reason for him to make ‘Devdas’. He had assisted in the making of the K.L. Saigal starrer and always wanted to make his own Devdas. My baba was a man of literature. Most of his works, notably ‘Devdas’, ‘Parineeta’ and ‘Biraj Bahu’, were based on literature. And he always remained faithful to the novels,” remembers Joy.

There was an exception though and Joy is quick to point it out. “It was an artistic liberty that he took in ‘Devdas’. The scene where Paro and Chandramukhi cross each other’s path, not a word is spoken as they look at each other. The background music makes it a memorable scene as it features Suchitra Sen and Vyjayanthimala together for the only time in the movie, even if for a fleeting moment. In the story they never meet though.”

In Joy’s views, “Devdas” encountered some casting problems. “Minor problems but what a cast it turned out to be. No one but Motilal could have played the role of Chunni Babu. I also remember the movie for its fantastic audio details. Baba was very meticulous. I remember Baba draping a dhoti for Balraj Sahni during the making of ‘Do Bigha Zameen’. He was a perfectionist to the core.” Joy recalls, “Dilip Kumar went on record later to say that his problem was to ensure what not to do than what to do. In fact, so immersed was he in the role that he had to see an analyst to come out of it. Those were the days. People were so sincere.”

VIJAY LOKAPALLY

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Lawyer who nurtured music -- Prof. Sambamurthi

Source http://www.hindu.com/fr/2008/10/31/stories/2008103150970400.htm


ENCORE

Lawyer who nurtured music

SRIRAM VENKATKRISHNAN

PIONEER Prof. Sambamurthi worked all his life to make musicology an integral part of Carnatic music.



INNOVATOR Prof. Sambamurthi


Prof. P. Sambamurthi passed away on October 23, 1973. The Hindu published a detailed obituary on October 24 in which it recorded that the end came about at the Royapettah Hospital, Madras, after a brief illness.

The article first listed his awards and stated that he was a recipient of Padma Bhushan. And it went on to say, “Prof. Sambamurthi was honoured with the title of Sangita Kalanidhi at the 46th annual conference of the Music Academy, Madras in 1972. He was elected Fellow of the Sangeet Nataka Akademi in 1963 in recognition of his services to music.” It was an unprecedented list of honours and the Professor, as he was always known, deserved every one of them. He had worked hard all his life to make musicology an integral part of Carnatic music. And he began his endeavours at a time when music was largely an oral tradition with very little support for theory despite the various treatises on it and the proliferation of printed works in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries.

By then, the gurukula system was fast fading and even in the 1880s, there had been attempts by the Madras Jubilee Gayan Samaj to train students in music en masse by the establishment of schools for this purpose. Though this effort failed, the idea caught on and sporadic attempts were made in the 1900s as well. The Rev. H.A. Popley ran a summer school for music in 1918 which taught music to Christians. By 1921, this had become an annual feature, the entire course lasting six weeks.

In 1924, Sambamurthi, fresh out of law college, but more interested in music and better known as a performer on the flute, was invited to give ten lectures on the “Musical Forms in South Indian Music” at the summer school.

He so impressed the Rev. Popley that he was immediately appointed as a lecturer in the school. With Popley returning to London in 1926, Sambamurthi became Vice-Principal of the school and by 1927, became the Principal.

Not content with carrying on what the Rev. Popley had begun, Sambamurthi set about creating a syllabus for the school. The course expanded to comprise Elementary, Intermediate, Advanced and Honours sections and soon became a full-day school for the summer months, functioning out of various buildings in the city.
Created a syllabus

There were classes on theory and practice and each Friday, the students had to present, by way of public performances, what they had learnt. To introduce a fun element, Sambamurthi organised weekend outings to places of musical interest in and around Madras city.

Not everyone was impressed with such group singing. The noted critic ‘Kalki’ Krishnamurthy panned the attempt as monstrous but it was generally welcomed as an innovation. Encouraged by the response, Sambamurthi enlarged the summer course into a full five-year course. In addition, a Teacher’s Training Course was also introduced which became very popular among the music teachers of the Corporation Schools. Students began coming in from all over India and soon a separate course for instruments was also added.

The Music Academy, Madras, was started in 1928, with Sambamurthy as one of the founding secretaries. This body lobbied with the Government to introduce music as a regular course in colleges and in the Madras University.

The Queen Mary’s College (QMC) was the first to do so and Sambamurthi was appointed lecturer. At around this time, he was also asked to teach music in many schools of Madras, so much so that he had to evolve a rota system of teaching in all the schools and still continue as lecturer at the QMC and serve as Principal of the summer school! He of course, never practised law!

The Madras University funded his travel to Germany in 1931 to study at the Deutsche Akademie. In 1932, when the Music Department of the Madras University was formed, he framed its syllabus. Later he was to serve as its head for 25 years. From then on, there was no looking back either for him or for musicology. He wrote innumerable books, framed syllabi for several universities, helped the setting up of the Central College of Carnatic Music (now Isai Kalluri), was Professor of Musicology at the Venkateswara University and represented India at numerous music conferences abroad. He was also Director, Sangita Vadyalaya, Madras, from 1961 to 64 where he worked on creating and improvising music instruments. Sadly, the summer school that he put on the map, closed down in 1941. But it had served its purpose as a launch pad for musicology and systematic teaching of music.

(This article owes much to inputs from Dr M.A. Bhageerathi, faculty member of QMC, whose doctoral thesis was on Prof. Sambamurthi’s contribution to music theory.)

(The author can be contacted at srirambts@gmail.com)

Saturday, June 20, 2009

His art speaks for him - Burra Katha

Source http://www.hindu.com/fr/2009/01/23/stories/2009012351070100.htm

His art speaks for him

PROFILE Veteran Burra Katha artist Karnati Lakshmi Narasaiah talks about the folk form and its relevance today. Kausalya Santhanam


The themes dealt with in Burra Katha stress the need to erase inequality and spread the message of universal brotherhood.


PHOTO: K.V. SRINIVASAN

WITH SOCIAL AWARENESS: Karnati Lakshmi Narasaiah.

Folk arts are our traditional wealth. We should try to educate the common people through these arts because they were created by them,” says Karnati Lakshmi Narasaiah, the doyen of Telugu folk performing arts who was in Chennai recently with his troupe to participate in the Chennai Sangamam.

The energetic 82-year-old is a man of many parts — practitioner and promoter of many Telugu folk performing art forms, scholar in Telugu and Urdu, freedom fighter who responded to Gandhiji’s call and also fought against the Nizam’s rule, and an author of several books (in Telugu). You talk to him for an hour and come away impressed with his singing skills and his indefatigable energy.

“Talking about the various things I have done in these many years is like distilling the sea in a bottle,” he says without false modesty. “If I stay idle for even half an hour, I tire,” he says with the sprightly enthusiasm of a man in his twenties. “I’m still actively engaged in lecture demonstrations, and I sing, dance and act.”

In a career spanning 65 years, Narasaiah has tried his hand successfully at various forms. He lists them rapidly — Veedhi Bhagavatham, Kasi Kavadi, Pitaldora, Jamukulakatha, Pambakatha, Kolattam, Bommalattam, Tapeta Gullu and Oggukatha.

Early years

“By the time I was 16, I had learnt nearly all these Kala Roopalu,” he says in chaste Telugu while I can only look bemused and scribble rapidly to keep pace.

“Did you get it right, amma?” he asks from time to time while our hostess Shobhana Reddy seeks to assure him on the score. Shobhana, a member of FICCI Ladies Organisation, has worked to showcase the Telugu arts at the Chennai Sangamam and has got Karnati’s troupe to perform here through the auspices of the World Telugu Federation. Karnati’s involvement in the arts goes back to his childhood. His mother moved to Telengana, her native place, when he was just a boy. Her family owned property there and when he took the cows to graze, he learnt the many songs of the folk people that helped lessen the burden of their toil. Surprisingly though the family was quite comfortably placed, the elder members did not curb the wanderings of the boy. He was free to roam around and absorb whatever took his fancy; so passionate was he in the pursuit of these art forms that he even forgot sometimes to turn up for his meals! He heard the recording of the great master of Burra Katha, Doddavarapu Venkataswamy for His Master’s Voice and learnt the form. “I also learnt to play the Jamukku (a drum),” he says.

Vibrant art form

Burra Katha, an art form once known as Jangam Katha, among other names, has a strong presence in Andhra Pradesh. Traditionally, it was used to narrate mythological stories. It later began to mirror social change. Burra Katha comprises three performers — one who sings, tells the story, plays the tambura and also dances, another who acts as commentator introducing political elements, and the third who acts as a comedian. The form is at once effective and extemporaneous, traditional and contemporary.

“The timbre of the performers’ voices is such as to rouse even those who are asleep,” guffaws Karnati and launches into a rousing recital of a few lines in his baritone. “I have given 10,000 performances in all,” he says. “I used to also participate in radio plays on AIR Vijayawada.”

Social messages

Burra Katha has been adapted successfully to propagate social messages. Karnati worked with Nassar to spread awareness among the people. Burra Katha has been used with telling effect in Telengana. “The themes I have dealt include the need to erase inequality and spread the message of universal brotherhood,” says Karnati. He is also a firm believer in gender equity. “Burrra Katha artists should speak of the problems of the poor farmers who are the backbone of the country,” he says.

Burra Katha led him to the cinema. “My guru Garikapati Rajarao introduced me and other members of the People’s Theatre such as Allu Ramalingaiah (actor Chiranjeevi’s father-in-law) to cinema. I have performed Burra Katha in 20 films,” he says. But the veteran is unhappy about the dilution of Burra Katha and other folk performing art forms as he feels not enough attention is being paid to the traditional costumes and format.

“All the States have their own distinctive and rich folk art forms; I love them all. I’m eager to be present wherever service is being done to them. Shobhana called me and so I have come with my troupe to take part in this confluence of arts,” says this recipient of many awards who facilitated different troupes to present Burra Katha, Jamukulakatha and play the Dappu at the festival.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Pavalakodi 1934


Blast from the past

Pavalakodi 1934

M. K. Thyagaraja Bhagavathar (debut), S. D. Subbulakshmi (debut), S. S. Mani and K. K. Parvathi Bai



Box office hit: Pavalakodi

Pavalakodi created history for many reasons - it marked the debut of the first superstar of south Indian cinema, Thyagaraja Bhagavathar, and that of stage and movie star of the early decades S. D. Subbulakshmi (later Mrs. K. Subramanyam). It also saw the introduction of the sadly neglected pioneer of Indian cinema, lawyer-turned-filmmaker K. Subramanyam as director.

Though, according to scholars, the story of Pavalakodi and Arjuna finds no mention in the Mahabharata, it was a successful play in Tamil in which Bhagavathar made a mark as a stage actor. Bhagavathar who reigned supreme on stage after the early demise of the iconic S. G. Kittappa had ideas of turning producer with this play, but SM. Letchumanan Chettiar (better known as `Lena'), a drama contractor of Chettinad, persuaded him to give up such plans and act in the film. It was produced by Meenakshi Cinetone and a wealthy distributor Al. Rm. Alagappa Chettiar was the moving force behind it.

Al. Rm. and his partners had a studio in Adyar which later became Neptune, Satya, (now MGR Janaki College). It had no compound walls then. One of the disgruntled partners took advantage of this situation and would begin to sound his car horn whenever Subramanyam said, "Start Camera"! Left with no option, the producers bought him out, but then a new crisis arose. from the crows of Adyar!

Adyar was more wooded than it is now. Numerous crows hovered over the food packs meant for the cast and crew of the film. In those days, all involved in a movie irrespective of their status ate the same food.

With shooting taking place in bright sunshine, the cast and crew would break for food only if a cloud cast its shadow on the sun. The artistes would rush as soon as the cloud cleared, abandoning the food packets, and the crows would swoop down to peck at the food. Their incessant cawing interfered with the recording of dialogue and song (as artistes had to sing songs on location just as they delivered dialogue). The exasperated director brought on board an Anglo Indian to shoot an air rifle into the sky to scare the crows away before he started shooting.

That was not all. There was a credit card in the titles, `Crow Shooter - Joe'. Perhaps the only one of its kind in movie history! The studio had no laboratory and Subramanyam and his team had no way of knowing whether a shot had been properly canned; they just hoped for the best. Not an ideal way of making movies perhaps, but that was how our pioneers worked .. The post production was done in Bombay.

Bhagavathar and Subbulakshmi excelled in their acting and singing (music composer Papanasam Sivan). The film was a box office hit and established Bhagavathar, Subbulakshmi and Subramanyam as stars of Tamil cinema.

A solitary print of this historic film is preserved at the National Film Archive of India at Pune.

Remembered for the debut of Bhagavathar, Subbulakshmi and Subramanyam, and for the fine music.

RANDOR GUY

Friday, June 12, 2009

Saga of grit and success - Sarojini Varadappan

source http://www.hindu.com/fr/2009/03/06/stories/2009030651160100.htm

Saga of grit and success

SUGANTHY KRISHNAMACHARI

She’s a trained classical singer, got a Ph.D when she was 80, and is the president of Women’s Indian Association. Now, Sarojini Varadappan adds another feather to her cap — Padma Bhushan.


I learnt that social service was not easy, and that accountability was important right down to the last paisa.


PHOTO: V. Ganesan

WOMAN OF SUBSTANCE: Sarojini Varadappan.

The year — 1932. A pregnant woman, her ten-year-old daughter in tow, walked towards the Vellore jail to meet her husband, who was imprisoned there. The woman was Gnanasundarammal, the girl was Sarojini Varadappan, and the man in prison was M. Bhakthavatsalam, who later became the Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu. He had been arrested for participating in the Civil Disobedience Movement. Her father being arrested, and policemen carrying out searches in her father’s house were all commonplace occurrences for young Sarojini.

Sarojini Varadappan, social worker, chosen for Padma Bhushan, says her father’s association with the Congress and her mother’s association with the Women’s Indian Association (WIA) were contributing factors in her zeal for social service.

It is a well known fact that Dr. Muthulakshmi Reddy, president of the WIA, was instrumental in starting the Cancer Institute in Chennai. Sarojini recalls what an uphill task it was.

An institute is born

“It was a time when doctors such as T.S.S. Rajan felt money spent on the institute could be used to combat other diseases, and Dr. Muthulakshmi faced a lot of opposition to her plan even from the medical fraternity! So, all we managed to get from the Government for the institute was a small strip of land. Pandit Nehru was supposed to visit Madras around the time we’d planned the inauguration, and Dr. Muthulakshmi wanted him to inaugurate the institute. So I called up my uncle O.V. Alagesan, who conveyed our request to Pandit Nehru. He agreed at once. After the inauguration, Rajaji patted me on the back and said, ‘The Women’s Association has won.’ Even now you can see the letters WIA on the board outside the entrance to the institute.” Just three letters, and what an inspirational story lies behind them!

Later, Sarojini became the president of the WIA. When she took charge, it had four branches in Chennai. Today, the number has increased to 76. Sarojini has also been with the Indian Red Cross for 30 years, and is the president of the Mylapore Academy. However, it was never easy for Sarojini to follow her heart. “I was a student of National Girls High School, now called Lady Sivaswami Girls School. When I attained puberty, I was pulled out of school. My teachers tried to persuade my family to let me resume my studies, but the request was turned down.”

Her father consoled a distraught Sarojini and arranged for Hindi tuitions. But when the time came for Sarojini to take the Prathmic exam, her great-aunt objected to her leaving the house to write the exam! “So my father spoke to Pandit Nataraja Sarma, who designated our house as one of the exam centres for a group of girls, including me. That’s how I took the exam!” The year she passed her Visharadh, Gandhiji was in Madras to hand out certificates to the successful candidates, but again her family would not allow an unmarried girl to be seen in public. “So I lost the opportunity of receiving my certificate from Gandhiji,” she says ruefully.

For Sarojini, marriage to cousin Varadappan meant liberation, for there were no restrictions on married women going out. So when Gandhiji visited Madras next and stayed at the Hindi Prachar Sabha, Sarojini, now married, served as a volunteer. She and her friends enrolled 1,000 women in the Congress. “In the evenings, Gandhiji would relax on an easy chair, and we would count the day’s hundi collections, and keep accounts. I learnt that social service was not easy, and that accountability was important right down to the last paisa. The Seva Dal put us through exercises and marches, and some of the volunteers came in madisars!”

Music lessons

Since she’d learnt music, Sarojini would sing the prayer songs at the Congress meetings. “Satyamurthy was interested in music. So the party always had a music wing. I learnt to play the violin, and my guru, Parur Sundaram Iyer, taught me more than 500 kritis of various composers. I learnt Kshetragna padams and Tamil padams from Mylapore Gowri Amma, who lived on Brodie’s Road. My favourite Tamil padam was ‘Ethanai Sonnalum.’ I learnt Bharatiar songs from E. Krishna Iyer, whose classes were held in Vanniar Chatram on East Mada Street. On weekends, Veena Visalakshi would teach me Hindi bhajans.”

Singing in Congress meetings ensured that Sarojini had no stage fright when she had to address the public later. “But I still had an inferiority complex about not having a degree. So I did my M.A. in Political Science at the Mysore University, under the Open University scheme. Later I did Master’s in Vaishnavism from the Madras University.” Sarojini passed M.A. with a first class, and at the suggestion of her professor Narasimhachari, she did her Ph.D on ‘The Concept of Social Service in Swami Narayana Philosophy.’ She went to Ahmedabad to do research, and got her doctorate at the age of 80!

An ardent devotee of Kanchi Paramacharya, she took his blessings when she assumed office as president of the Social Welfare Board, Delhi. “He advised me to continue to study Sanskrit, which I’ve tried to do,” says Sarojini.

Sarojini served for sometime as member of the Film Censor Board. She even got into an argument with S.S. Vasan over a cut she’d made in his film! Why did she not think of politics as a career? “My father said I wasn’t to enter politics as long as he was alive. In fact, when C. Subramaniam proposed my name for a Rajya Sabha seat, my father turned down the suggestion.”

At 87, Sarojini still thinks of herself as a student. “I recently bought a computer, because I want to know how to browse the Net. My grandson (politician Jayanthi Natarajan’s son) teases me as the only one he knows, who still writes letters!”

Political kolu!

Sarojini Varadappan describes the Navaratri kolu they had in those days. “In 1937, when Rajaji formed a Congress Ministry in Madras, my mother hired a carpenter to make a mini Legislative Assembly! We had celluloid dolls representing every member of the Assembly, dressed exactly as they dressed in real life. We even had a doll attired just like Bhulusu Sambamurthy, the Speaker, who wouldn’t wear a shirt. Another year, we made a scale model of the Ramapadasagar dam. In 1947, Lady Nye, wife of the last British Governor of Madras, came home to see our kolu. My friends used to jokingly refer to it as the ‘political kolu,’ because we invariably had a political theme!”

Monday, June 1, 2009

Memories of winter

Source http://www.hindu.com/mp/2009/02/09/stories/2009020951040500.htm

Memories of winter

Himalayas Rishad Saam Mehta drives 2,000 km to find bliss in a land covered by snow, snow and more snow

Photos: Rishad Saam Mehta

Nature’s canvas Tani Jubbar Lake

I pulled open the curtains of my room at the Giri Ganga Resort at Kharapathar and was greeted by a winter wonderland. My high-decibel holler of happiness at seeing snowflakes falling must have woken up the entire Pabbar Valley.

We’d driven through the Pabbar Valley the day before and fretted and fumed about the fact that though the temperature was well below the 10 degrees C mark, it didn’t look like winter.

The mountainsides were brown and dull because all the grass and shrubs had been gobbled down by the livestock during their grazing after the rains.

The pines and other flora wore a coat of dust and even the snow-capped peaks that should have been our constant companion from Chakrata to Hatkoti and Kharapathar were hiding behind thick and solid cloud banks.

So, I was pretty peeved because we’d pointed the nose of the new Corolla Altis towards the north in faraway Mumbai and driven over 2,000 km to find some winter. The Altis, with its exciting and enthusiastic engine, was a complete mile-muncher. In fact, we made Ajmer during the first day of driving, which meant packing in 1100 km in a single driving day. But now, seeing the snowflakes fall, all the long hours at the wheel on this journey from the sea to the snow became worth it.

Snowball fight, anyone?

I know that my very vocal outburst of joy woke up the manager of the resort, who jumped out of his bed like a springbok who has sighted a lion.

He was at the reception heavy-eyed, with an aura of slumber still around his head when I raced there with all the enthusiasm and glee of a glutton at a free and unlimited buffet. He was also very grateful of the reception desk between him and me because he could see it from the fanatical look of pleasure on my face that I would have thrown the restraining shackles of courteous behaviour, grabbed and taken him out in the open and forced him to have a snowball fight with me to celebrate the first ice of the season.

I was so happy at the sight of snow. Clumsily staying beyond my clutching distance like a misaligned matador fighting a blundering bovine, he told me that the roads would be iced up and that I should wait till a few buses and cars passed so that the icy surface would be broken and provide some kind of grip to the tyres.

“Right now the car’s tyres will feel like ball bearings on glass” he warned.



The drive to Thanedar

We weren’t in any hurry to leave anyway, and outside the resort, everyday life went on as people trudged to work, some smiling in amusement at our happiness as we clicked photos of the car covered in ice, the snow-laden pine trees and the white hillsides.

The Corolla felt a little nervous as we started off from its overnight parking space because the road all around was covered with glass-like ice. Once we hit the tracks created by other cars, the going was easier.

Yet, gentleness was the order of the day. Momentum was the mantra because any sudden changes to speed or direction could send the car in a slide.

But then, thiswasn’t really my idea of fun behind the wheel. So, we strapped on the snow chains; then, I could show a little audacity on the white-washed roads.

Catching up over soup

From Kharapathar we decided to go to Thanedar because it definitely would have snowed there too as the little village of Thanedar is at quite a height. I also wanted to say hello to my good friend Prakash Thakur who runs a charming little resort there in the midst of apple orchards and snowy mountains.

Thanedar is by far my favourite place in the Himalayas and while we swapped stories and sipped the spicy hot soup that Sharmaji, the cook-cum-manager, had prepared, it continued to snow through the night.

Pretty sight

But we woke up to bright blue skies the next day and promptly headed out to the Tani Jubbar Lake, 8 km from Thanedar.

Though I have been here before, I have never seen it prettier. The lake reflected the bright blue sky and the snow all around. The air was invigorating because it was clean and crispy cold.

The Nag Devta temple looked a picture of piety with snow clinging to its slate roof and icicles beginning to form over its sides. Standing in the snow-covered lawn of the little hotel there, staring out at the icy peaks and drawing solace from a steaming cup of chai, I felt content and happy.

I had found the winter that I had been chasing for over 2000 km.

How to go

To get your fill of the winter or any season in the Himalayas head to Thanedar. For bookings, log on to www.banjaracamps.com

He turned the spotlight on Annamayya


Source http://www.hindu.com/fr/2008/11/14/stories/2008111451360600.htm
ENCORE

He turned the spotlight on Annamayya

SRIRAM VENKATKRISHNAN

Commissioned to retrieve the songs of Annamacharya, Rallapalli Ananthakrishna Sarma worked in earnest setting them to tune and publishing volumes.

Sarma was of the view that the sringara compositions of Annamacharya were not being given the same importance as the spiritual.



Annamacharya.

Sixty years ago, the Sri Venkateswara University invited a scholar who had just then retired from the Maharajah’s College in Mysore, to head its Department of Music. The personage, or sage as some would have averred, was the apt choice, for he had not only a sound knowledge of music, but also of Sanskrit, Prakrit, Telugu and Kannada. On coming over, he applied himself to the main task at hand, that of setting to music the songs of Annamacharya, the great composer of Tallapaka. This personality was Rallapalli Ananthakrishna Sarma.

Born on January 23, 1893, at Rallapalli in Anantapur District to Sanskrit and Telugu scholar Karnamadakala Krishnamacharyulu and Alamelumangamma, Sarma was initiated into Sanskrit, Telugu and music by his parents. Resenting unchavriti (ritual alms seeking) he ran away from home at the age of 13. Reaching Mysore, he placed himself under the guardianship of the chief of the Parakala Mutt. Guided by the seer, he studied Sanskrit and Prakrit at the Chamaraja Pathasala and became a master in both languages. He also studied music under the palace vidwans such as Chikka Rama Rao, Bidaram Krishnappa and Karigiri Rao. He could sing and also play the violin and the flute.

Loved teaching



Sound knowledge of music: Rallapalli Ananthakrishna Sarma.

When Sarma was barely 18, his talent in Telugu was noticed by Sir Cattamanchi Ramalinga Reddy, the Principal of the Maharajah’s College, who appointed him Telugu Pundit. His love for teaching and his mastery over his subjects ensured he received the love and affection of his students. During his tenure there, Harikesanallur Muthiah Bhagavatar, though many years his senior, often consulted him on the musical and lyrical aspects of the project that he was then working on – Chamundamba Ashtottara kritis.

Sarma joined the Sri Venkateswara University in 1948. The Tirumala temple authorities had the previous year begun retrieving the songs of Annamacharya that had been stored for centuries on copper plates in the temple. The work was headed by Vetturi Prabhakara Sastry, well-known scholar who passed away. Sarma was then brought on board to head the project. He had first seen some songs of Annamacharya in 1937 and had even then been enamoured of their unique imagination, independent flow of words and variety. Beginning with ‘Alarulu kuriyaga adenade’ which describes the dance of Alamelumanga for the pleasure of Srinivasa, Sarma worked in earnest on the songs, setting them to tune and helping in the publications of volumes seven and eight of Annamacharya’s compositions.

In 1949, the first Vardhanti festival of Annamacharya was celebrated by the Tirumala Tirupati Devasthanam and from then on the demand for the composer’s songs grew. Between 1951 and 56, Sarma brought out five more volumes of Annamacharya’s compositions. He wrote the notation for 108 compositions and 87 of them were published in the Andhra Patrika Weekly.

Sarma continued working on Annamacharya’s compositions long after his retirement in 1962. He was of the view that the sringara (erotic) compositions of Annamacharya were not being given the same importance as the adhyatmic (spiritual) and argued that it was incorrect to associate only Kshetrayya with sringara as a theme. Sarma was in demand as an erudite speaker and also served as Vice-President of the Andhra Pradesh Sangeet Natak Akademi for some time. He wrote prolifically and collections of his writings were brought out as books. In the middle of all this, he also found the time to compose, becoming a fine vaggeyakara, though he rather regrettably did not bother to notate or teach them to his students. To him, they were only expressions of an inner urge.

In 1974, Sarma was conferred Sangita Kalanidhi by the Music Academy, Madras. He took the honour in his stride but it gave an opportunity for the citizens of Madras to meet, observe and listen to a scholar. His speech on the occasion of his being elected to preside over the Music Academy’s annual conference was a fine one, remarkable for its masterly summing up of the music scenario at that time and his arguments in favour of change especially in breaking free from the shackles of tradition.

A Spartan lifestyle saw Sarma remain healthy and active till the very end. He passed away in Bangalore in 1979. By then Annamacharya’s songs had become famous and several including M. Balamuralikrishna and Nedunuri Krishnamurthy had set them to music and were regularly singing them in concerts. That said, it must also be placed on record that it was MS Subbulakshmi’s rendition of them, released as a series of audio cassettes by the TTD that made the songs extremely popular. Sarma lives on, in the songs of Annamcharya that he set to music.

(The author can be contacted at srirambts@gmail.com)