BY

My object in this write up is only to put down some of the occurrences, anecdotes and observations during my association with this great man, which would afford some glimpses of his personality, his keen intellect, his large-heartedness, his ideals, his vision and perception which impressed me and which have been guiding me as a beacon light in my own life, both official and personal.

One thing which comes uppermost in the reminiscences, is his forthrightness and courage of conviction. I am reminded of two incidents which I had personally seen and one or two which had been narrated to me by the Master. It was during the Experts committee demonstrations during the annual Music festival at the Music Academy on a Sunday morning in

December in the sixties. The pandal in the courtyard of the auditorium was packed to capacity and many were standing outside. The session included a demonstration of 'Jathis' set to different Thaalams by a guest artiste from Andhra Pradesh. The speciality was that he would be indicating the Angams of different Thaalams simultaneously using both the hands, both the feet, the shoulders and the head while uttering the Jathis . The Thaalams having different Maathras would synchronise after several rounds, at which point, the jathis would also end. starting with two different Thaalams counted on two hands, the artiste, demonstrated the feat of oral presentation of jathis keeping seven different thaalams simultaneously. The applause from the audience was spontaneous and many admired the performance. Master, however, stood up and asked the artiste a few pertinent questions. He asked him whether he could indicate the calculations or at least generally state the principle underlying the demonstration. the reply was in negative. Then he asked the artiste whether he could state any part of the jathis in the three speeds (thrikaalam). the reply was again in the negative. The next question was whether the artiste could put any portion of the jathis into a different 'gathi' like thisram and again this drew blank. finally he asked the artiste whether in simple Aadi thaalam, he could say "thakadhimi" seven times followed by "thadhikinathom", thus coming to 'level in the fifth round; still there was no positive response. Meanwhile the audience was hurling all sorts of insults against the Master. They said that he had no business to question an honoured guest artiste; that it was his uncurbed arrogance which made him to do this; that he was unnecessarily teasing and exposing the artiste's weakness and even they shouted "can you do such a feat ?". We were really worried as to what would happen. Master, however, stood up calmly, raised his voice and said "I am one with you in appreciating the difficult feat performed by the artiste, but please remember that this is a session of the Experts committee in the music field. Any discussion or demonstration will have to be related to the theory and practice of music. If a performance cannot be explained in terms of these, it may partake of the nature of acrobatics only and, however difficult and novel it may be, this is not the forum to exhibit it. We are entitled to know how far the performer can relate it to the general principles". I could see the persons who had shouted against the Master acknowledging the correctness of his argument - "of course that is true", they said. His perception was different and lofty.

a second occasion was in late 70s when I saw his stubbornness in sticking to principles. A function had been arranged in memory of Master's coeval and fellow student under the late Sri Chathapuram Subba Iyer. In the evening there was programme at which the percussion support was provided by Master. As usual it had been announced that there would be no loudspeaker arrangement, but the organisers had allowed unrestricted entry of listeners, little realising the consequences. After a very good start, the artistes had got into St. Thyagaraja's 'Dinamani vamsa' in Harikamboji. The audience had increased in number and as the hall was in a temple complex, there were also external disturbances. the audibility of the music was therefore low. there were requests from the audience for the provision of a loudspeaker. the Master told the organisers to explain to the audience the kutcheri was announced as a mikeless concert and that if they had patience, in a matter of minutes, their ears would get adjusted to the sound. there were persistent calls for a loudspeaker and it was likely that there would be trouble. any other person would have yielded and agreed to the provision of loudspeaker which could have been arranged soon. But master simply asked the veena vidwan to play 'Mangalam' and concluded the concert notwithstanding threats of injury to his person unless the concert was continued with loudspeaker. Of course, nothing untoward happened; usually nothing untoward ever happens to one who takes a bold stand on the basis of declared principles.

a lot has been said about his aversion to loudspeakers for the performances in which he took part. A few years before he declared that it is his policy to avoid the microphone in his performances, I was with him at one of the concerts in the Egmore Museum Theatre at Madras. That was the time when at Madras Bharatanatyam and Dramas were holding the sway among the music and fine arts sabhas; light music was also gaining prominence and carnatic music programmes even by celebrated artistes did not have much of an appeal for the audiences as before. To tell the truth, including the artistes on the stage, we were only about 75 persons in the hall for the programme. After the programme, Master told the organisers "look, this is going to be the pattern for quite some time; Carnatic music is not going to draw large audiences. why pollute the music with the microphone which will distort the sound and sometimes make it very unpleasant ? I am prepared to reduce my rates substantially if you avoid it during my programmes". In later years, he imposed a total ban on mike for his programmes. He had several reasons for this. when I had become sufficiently close to him to discuss these matters, without much inhibitions, I asked him whether in his opinion, mike was responsible for our losing the voice culture technique. The response was quick and emphatic. He said "where is the doubt ? (Samasyam enna, andha kuthu villakku thaan kedukkarathu)". If one wants to strengthen and refine his voice, he should sing at '2-1/2 kattai' and it should be full-throat, full volume effort, if possible in the open preferably sitting on the terrace". He had, of course, male singers in his mind while saying this; he also believed that with fairly good acoustics in the concert hall, the listening power and involvement of the audience would substantially improve in the absence of the mike. After his decision to do away with the mike, he had given scores of performances, accompanying vocal and instrumental music including veena. Some of these were in quite large auditoriums and to fully packed audiences. Music lovers did enjoy the performances. He had the knack of ensuring that his handling of the mridangam never affected the audibility of the rendering by the other artistes and all the time it embellished these and brought the performance to the full-blossemed beauty. I am reminded of the advice given to me by Trichur Sankara Menon, one of the old veteran mridangists of the times of Kallidaikurichi Sri Vedantha Bagavathar, in the beginning stages of my interest in mridangam. He used to say that a percussionist would normally pass through four stages before he became competent to give pleasing accompaniment as a mridangist. Thus, "Adi, Idi, Kottu, Vaayana" meaning "uncontrolled sound, muffled identifiable pattern of sound, clear sollukattu but in crude and loud volume and clear and appropriate sollukattu rendered in pleasing and sweet form" were according to him the four stages; practice and nothing but hours of practice would elevate one from stage to stage. Master had practiced endlessly, researched every facet of the construction of the instrument, its preparation for use for concerts of different types and handling under all circumstances. He had proved his views on the supremacy of the mikeless concert and his ability to handle the mridangam in an exceedingly effective manner to support the main artiste, whoever it was. In his hands it was really the 'Mridu angam' (soft, sweet instrument), though occasionally he used to bring the effect of super fast jet speed or a tempestuous thunderclap to enliven or prop up a slackening tempo. why should he not have his way ?

His respect for traditional values and maintenance of standards was phenomenal. He knew that perfection was impossible; he was fully aware that one should make allowance for many imponderables and external forces, but he never slackened his efforts towards achievement of perfection. He would never compromise on quality, be it his personal attire, the maintenance and even the general appearance of his instruments or the planning and the performance of a kutcheri. He had expressed his immense happiness at the increasing spread of classical south Indian music in recent times, but he lamented the deteriorating standards of practice. It was not as though he was unaware of the problems of the present day students of the art, such as, lack of time, diversions and the need to be well up in general knowledge and awareness of the happenings so as to be able to converse and compete where necessary, with others in the society, and, more than anything else, the practical impossibility of taking to music as the sole occupation or profession at least in the beginning stages, due to the change in the economic and social scenario. He shared the feeling of other old-timers that the role of amateurs in fostering the traditional arts would become increasingly prominent in the times to come. (I recall a conversation which I had with late Sri Rajamanickam Pillai in 1966, if I remember correct, when he was bed-ridden at Kumbakonam. I had expressed the constraints in practising mridangam due to my touring job and said that all the same, if someone could measure the sincerity and devotion to music, it would probably be found that it existed at least as much in the amateurs as in the professionals. He said "Lakshathil oru vaarthai" and added that spread of music and its development in times to come would depend solely on the interest and the efforts of general public and notably amateur artistes, as old time samasthanams and princely houses were dissolving). And yet, Master did feel that practice of south Indian Music- be it vocal or instrumental had to be more strenuous and well structured. Complacency and compromises had no place in the development of art, nor did he accept the craze for quick results, abandoning quality. He had once specifically referred to the lack of care in learning or teaching the fingering and formation of sollu in the initial stages. A student must develop awareness of the potentialities of the instrument which he handles and also what type of fingering would bring out the best from the instrument. He would state "take the American learning mridangam. Once he is instructed to his thumb hooked to support the forefinger and to keep his middle finger raised for a particular sound, he will never forget it, whereas our boys will have to be reminded frequently of the position; if not, they will allow their fingers to spread out like the legs of a spider". He used to say that if a student approached in the early stages, it would be possible to reset the fingering. But if he had reached the advanced stages, the fingering would have already set and few would have the inclination or patience to practice the 'paadakkai '' to correct the fingering. The advantages of a little longer practice and attention to the first lessons could not ignored.

Likewise, he had his own view about music competitions and schemes for selection of candidates for award of scholarships etc., It was his firm conviction that there should be a minimum standard of performance to be expected from the competitors and awarding of prize or selection for scholarship should not be on the basis of 'the best among those who participated'. He narrated an incident when, as judges on the panes for selecting eligible candidates for scholarship in a very advanced stage of learning of music, himself and the late Sri Alathur Srinivasa Iyer had boldly expressed their view that none of the participants had the minimum standard required for the award.

His criticism was never destructive. He had a genuine concern for improvement. He had done everything possible to encourage younger artistes by tendering advice, by accompanying them at concerts and guiding them and unreservedly appreciating them when they did well. In this respect, he had no complexes, no airs and never was he casual or half-hearted. In fact, he had looked into all aspects right from the seating arrangements, selection and sequencing of kritis and building their morale and mutual understanding. I distinctly remember a rather difficult situation which Master diffused very beautifully and ensured the conduct of an excellent concert. I had moved over to a city a months before the incident. Master was to give a performance at a Sabha if I remember correct, in October 1976 or so. I met him at his lodging around 11.am. The first thing he mentioned to me on seeing me was that there was a problem and it was even likely that the concert might be cancelled. the Sabha had, after some unsavory experiences, decided that when artistes were engaged for their programmes, they would offer a remuneration which would include the cost of travel, board and lodging. The Sabha would render assistance in arranging for journey tickets, accommodation etc., if so desired by the artistes, but the bills should be paid by the artiste out of the remuneration; there was no question of these paid by the Sabha, once the remuneration offered was accepted. In this particular instance, when the Sabha specified its terms, the main artiste had not accepted and had insisted that their remuneration should be besides the train fare, transport and accommodation including boarding charges. there had been a stalemate and finally the artistes had received a telegram asking them to come for the performance and they had come. No representative of the Sabha had met them at the station and when they reached the hotel, though they found that accommodation was booked, no member of the managing committee had contacted them till I had gone. It was a question of not only clarification and confirmation of terms, but the more important and complex problem of prestige. The artistes had decided to go back without performing , if there was no answer to these from the sabha. Master just asked me to go to the sabha office and see to it that a responsible office bearer would visit the artistes. His views were very clear. It was not just a question of money. It was the prestige and good name of the artiste and the sabha and, more than anything else, avoiding disappointment to the music lovers who would be thronging the auditorium in a few hours, from all part of the city. He was very good as a conciliator and he convinced the parties and ironed out the differences in a matter of minutes and the concert got off to a good start by 4.15 pm. as scheduled. One curious thing I found when I joined him was that the performance was going on but the performers had been seated on the floor abandoning the stage. Master explained that he had suggested this as he found the stage too high and far away from the audience. His ideas of audience rapport and involvement were excellent.

I was with him when he accompanied Sri Chittibabu at one of the chamber music sabhas. The code of conduct for the listeners was very stringent. They were to be in their seats well before the commencement of the concert; they should not clap their hands or make any sound during the performance and they could not also leave the auditorium before the conclusion of the programme. the concert was excellent and the Thaniavarthanam was in Misra Chappu ( if I remember correct, after the kriti 'Neethu charanamule' in Simmendhra madhyamam ). As usual, it was crisp and colourful, but the audience had to keep silent. Chittibabu applauded loudly and said " why are you bowing to restrictions on your freedom to appreciate a masterly effort like this " and there was thunderous applause. Master said that in our system the artiste expected open expression of encouragement and appreciation. In this he drew a comparison with the western audience, which is ' very polite, disciplined and respectful, but which reserves its applause till the completion of the piece or sometimes, the entire concert '. He narrated his own experience in England, where he was given due respect and the standing ovation which followed his performance. He said it was all very good, but he really missed the visual and audible expression of appreciation during a raga exposition or a sangathi or good swaraprasthara or thani, which he was used to. It must be recalled that he accepted very few engagements abroad.

He used to say that a good part of any audience comprised those who 'love' music rather than those who knew the intricacies. A good artiste would therefore take note of this important aspect while choosing and sequencing the compositions, making a balanced time allocation of setting the ' kaala pramaanam ' so that there would be a number of popularly known compositions in different tempos, ' madhyama kaalam ' being given prominence. There should be some portion set apart for efforts to cater to the tastes and expectations of scholars and intricate aspects should definitely find a place so that the depth of knowledge and skills in presentation could be understood and appreciated, to some extent these would be providing guidance to the younger aspirants. He also used to emphasise the need for proper understanding the coordination among the performers themselves to avoid ' virasa '. After all, as far as listeners are concerned, while they would expect each individual artiste to give his best, their main desire would be to get a full, satisfying and memorable kutcheri as a cooperative effort of the entire team. The master did really take pains to achieve this objective. Generally his own 'thani' used to be brief, weaving colourful rhythmic patterns with adjustments of pleasing variations of sound and resonance. Complex technical aspects were also masterfully ingrained to make the performance dignified and weighty without being ponderous and procrastinating.

Reflecting on my association with him, a flood of episodes comes to my mind. It is difficult to record them in detail, but I would like to narrate a few more.

Once, after a performance, I was taking him back to the hotel. He asked me whether I was finding enough opportunities to perform in kutcheris. I told him that I was new to the place and therefore, apart from the A.I.R.Programmes, there were not many opportunities. I added that there was some resistance to new entrants especially to those from a different state. He patted my back and said " music field has never been free from politics. God has given you a good job and position and therefore you can afford to treat mridangam really as a hobby. do not compete with professionals who have to contend with several problems and ethics and fair play may not always be compatible with survival and success. Times and values have changed and the spontaneous respect which the old-time vidwan received from disciples and patrons may no longer be available to the professionals of the future, as a matter of course, when everything will be governed by contractual relationship rather than sentiments. continue to practice with devotion and be of assistance when no one will that you are usurping his chance". What a rational way of looking at the somewhat unhealthy competition and performance - prejudice feelings which do rear their heads quite often in this field !

Master's outlook to commonplace things too was very logical. Once at the railway station, I stopped to pickup the mridangams and his luggage from the car boot. He stopped me and said " look, there are enough number of porters who eke out their living by doing this job. If we do not employ them, they will have to get their livelihood by other methods which may not be strictly healthy. Once they are successful in those methods, they will be harmful to the society. Why not employ them and pay them their just wages ?". He was quite liberal but not lavish in remunerating persons who worked for him and they left him satisfied and grateful. He would, however, never hesitate to pull up a person who had done slipshod or halfhearted work. Recently, I had occasion to study 'the Maxims of Chanakya' a compilation of Chanakya's principles by Shri V.K.Subramaniam. the chapter on 'Causes of discontent' starts with the statement to the effect that the main cause of discontent is the denial of payment of one's legitimate dues. Great minds think alike ! I do not think that Master would have been less of an administrator if he had chosen to enter that field.

Master knew the art of management well. He was one of the old-time professional artistes, who earned well by hard and intelligent effort, spent judiciously blending considerations of utility, dignity, simplicity and consistency and invested wisely. Long before the average public knew it, he had understood the implications of tax incentives and he had availed of the schemes offered for tax planning. He had a quick and clear grasp of any subject of general interest. He would never skip his reading of a standard newspaper. I remember an occasion when he had to take the commuted value of some annuity certificates in which he had invested. I was present when he discussed the implications and procedural aspects with the officials concerned. After about five minutes with them, he had mastered all the aspects.

He was fully aware of the ways of the world and he was pragmatic to the core. Once a dynamic office bearer of an organisation, who was very well known in the music circles, lost his position due to the efforts of an opposition group. He asked me whether I was aware of it, and how it happened and I explained the circumstances to the best of my knowledge. However, within a matter of months, the orgasnisation started languishing and the general body voted him back to position. At the next opportunity I passes on the information to Master. He had a hearty laugh. Then he said that he had expected it. He said "you know, the really aggressive go-getter, will have to bulldoze obstacles sometimes. He may not break the law, but will not have much of regard for procedures which can often cause serious delays and frustration and he is also not likely to follow the democratic principles always. But the organisation will flourish. the same thing is true of those whom we employ for our personal work. The easiest way is to wink at the faults of such persons unless they are likely to be serious.

Master had his own unique and fascinating way of putting across his ideas. I remember one evening I had gone to meet him at the common room at Woodlands Hotel in Madras. His second son was also there. A very interesting piece of conversation took place regarding the son's job at Karaikudi (if my memory is correct). Master asked his son about the job, the date of joining etc., and then he enquired

" so how much will you be getting as salary ?"

Son: "about Rs.250/-"

Master: "so you keep Rs.100/- and send me Rs.150/-. Is it not so ?"

Son: "How can it be ? I will not be able to live there with just Rs.100/-."

Master: "all right. then you keep Rs.150/- and send me Rs.100/- What do you say ?"

For Master, these were very insignificant figures considering his affluence and the remuneration that he was receiving for his performances. It was not that Master wanted his son's monthly remittance, but that was part of his strategy of teaching his son to inculcate the habit of thrift.

There was nothing slipshod, nothing which would not reflect his characteristic dignity, about him. Even a simple and small action of his would be indicative of his planning and perfection. For some time he had to take a number of tablets in different combinations at different times of the day. He had organised it wonderfully well. He had a plastic container with a number of compartments for the tablets. He had very clearly marked the time at which each had to be taken and he also had a beautiful small pair of scissors to remove the tablets from the aluminium foils.

He had a keen time sense and he would never linger in the concert hall or place of any work after his job was over. In fact even before the conclusion of the concerts, often he would have despatched one of his disciples, from the dias, to fetch a taxi for his going from the concert hall. Some of his fans used to notice this and they used to say "Mani Iyer has sent his disciple to get a taxi. the katcheri is about to end".

there was a unique greatness in everything about him and one great musician had, while speaking about him, punned using his name Mani, meaning 'time', 'jewel', 'money', 'beauty', (as in 'mani maniyaana ezhuthu), 'best' or 'adept' (as in 'Gaayakamani' or 'Thiruppukazhmani').

His circle of friends was not unduly wide. He would scrupulously avoid accepting favors from others. As a professional, he had to move with thousands of persons and yet, he knew exactly who should be close to him and who should be kept at a distance. There were few errors in his judgment of persons. He believed in trusting and delegating work to his chosen disciples and servants or friends and would generally leave them to do their job unless they sought his instructions. In the unfortunate event of anyone proving untrustworthy, he would not get unduly perturbed, but quietly keep him away; for him the world was large enough for people who could not see 'eye to eye', to remain apart. Not that he would be unreasonable and refuse to patch up where an earlier misunderstanding could be resolved. the manner in which he accepted and appreciated the efforts of some mutual friends who brought about a rapprochement between the late Chembai Sri Vaidyanatha Bhagavathar and himself after a few years of drifting apart, would abundantly indicate that he would correct his stand if he was convinced.

His appreciation of greatness in other artistes was unreserved and healthy, though he never believed in outward show or exhibitionism. His brief, but splendid write up on Ariyakudi Sri Ramanuja Iyengar amply brought out his admiration for that vidwan. Likewise he felt genuinely sad when several doyens like Alathoor Sri Subbier passed away. I distinctly remember the way he spoke about Kumbakonam Sri Rajamanickam Pillai on his demise, in the condolence programme broadcast by the A.I.R. He said in grief-stricken voice "Pillaiwal and myself had participated in innumerable performances over more than thirty years and, face to face with each other on the dias, we had such excellent rapport that I shall miss him. Many of the old-time veterans have disappeared from the field and, with them, the traditional pattern of rendering is also slowly disappearing. I am left standing as a mendicant yearning for good, old-time music ( Sangeetha Bhikshukanaaka nirkiren)" .

Even his reprimands used to be subtle. He would not waste words and not a single word would be inappropriate. Once there was a mild communication gap between us. this was some time in 1978 or 1979. He was to take part in a kutcheri. I had received him at the station and put him in his hotel. There were some others and one of them, my namesake, was very keen that Master should visit his residence. when finally the programme was settled, Master said "Krishnamoorthy Iyer will take me there by about 4.15 p.m.." I was not used to the suffix to my name and therefore it never struck me that Master had meant that I should take him in my car; I had presumed that he had referred to the other gentleman. However, around 4.pm, I had a feeling that probably I would also be required and I immediately rushed to the hotel. It appears that Master had been waiting for m and just left. So later I told him that he asked me "you usually keep your watch advanced by a few minutes, is it not so? Hereafter you keep it slow by a few minutes so that you may involuntarily start in advance especially when you are preoccupied with many things as you will subconsciously be worried about your watch being slow."

He scrupulously observed etiquette. In one kutcheri at the Nijaguna Kalyana Mantapam, Bangalore, Smt. Pattammal had asked her daughter -in-law (Master's daughter) to sing along with her and Master was accompanying on the mridangam. Smt. Pattammal mentioned to him before the concert that her daughter-in-law was also going to sing and Master had said "Oh yes, once I have entrusted her to your care, I know that you will mould her wonderfully well." the performance was excellent and some of the pieces, notably "eego namma swami" in Manirangu, "seetha vara sangeetha gnanamu" in Devagandhari and a pallavi in khanda nadai were outstanding. Smt. sivakumar gave very good support to her mother-in-law. after the performance, Master complimented Smt. Pattammal, to whom he was providing percussion accompaniment after quite some time, on the excellent performance. He never said anything to his daughter about her singing nor did he mention it to Smt. Pattammal. an ordinary person would have praised his daughter. Later, when I was driving him back to the hotel, I just mentioned to him that Smt. Sivakumar had risen up to the occasion and sung well. His comment was "yes, it was a pleasant surprise, especially because of the difference in the basic 'Sruti' and the very chaste method of rendering which Smt. Pattammal follows. She has taken great pains to teach Lalitha."

There are many such examples of his noble qualities.

My last association with him was in 1979. I was under orders of transfer to a place where the chances of his visit were remote. therefore, when an occasion arose for me to be with him before my departure, I spent as much time as possible in his company. After his kutcheri, I had accompanied him to the station. Unfortunately, that day, the departure platform for his train had been changed from No.1 to No.4 and we had to walk through the sub-way. At the head of the steps for climbing down, he paused and said "I can walk some distance on level ground, but climbing steps is a problem". Then he added "the body has become quite weak. Only the fingers have retained their strength. If someone puts me on the stage, I can go on playing." It was a statement which I would never have expected from him. Tears welled up in my eyes. He had an iron will and an indomitable spirit. It was not in his nature to admit of physical fatigue or weakness. His was a life full of tough challenges boldly and successfully met. (As a matter of fact, he was reported to have kept several mridangams in trim condition ready for concerts, even at the time of his demise.) Instinctively I knew that I was seeing him for the last time.

I have no claim or competence to be Master's Boswell. He started his career before I was born. My knowledge of music is quite shallow and there were too many fine aspects in his performances which baffled me. As Sri S.Y.Krishnaswamy had stated in his memoirs after Master's demise, Master started at the top and stayed there for over five decades. there are many who knew him much better than me and were closer to him. All that I had in mind when I started recording reminiscences was the desire that glimpses of the multifaceted personality of this truly great Master should be available to my children and their contemporaries who did not have any occasion to see him as a man and as a maestro, although they can listen to his recorded performances. for myself, this serves as a faithful remembrancer of a Divinely gifted person at whose feet I shall ever remain a devotee.

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