A tryst in Tanjore
BY
T.C.SATYANATH.
He sits cross legged and shirtless on the sofa in his son's living room at Kalamassery. Palghat Mani Iyer is 69 years old and he has been mridangist nonpareil for as many decades as even people older than him can remember. He is being felicitated today at the Kerala Fine Arts Hall for his immense contribution to the world of music.
I had expected to see him in a sombre mood. News had reached him a few hours earlier that Alathur Srinivasa Iyer of the famous duo, Alathur Brothers had died that morning. with him has passed another great maestro of the era. Palghat had only recently paid a tribute to his outstanding qualities as a vocalist. If he is touched by his death, which we know he is, he does not show it by brooding, but he conveys his regrets and is politely definite when he excuses himself from being present to inaugurate the celebration of the Navarathri Festival at Ernakulam. After all, during his career spanning 60 years, he has seen almost every great contemporary of his pass away one by one. But Mani Iyer has none of the attitude of a man waiting for the inevitable. He is also not one who is prone reminisce unless he drawn into it. He is categoric in his views and the spark of defiance of a man who has never had to bow his head in submission to superior talents is quite manifest. He is quite unequivocal when he conveys his opinions through is various comments that the Golden Age of Carnatic Music is a thing of the past.
there are talented people today in the world of music, but the sort of deep dedication he has known in his time is no longer in evidence. Any musician to be considered great, must hold a consistently high standard of performance for, say 50 years or atleast 25 years. That is the litmus test for greatness.
I ask him how many hours of practice he has been putting in. He says he has practiced for as long as he liked and when the mood took him. But, he adds, it is not practice that makes great musicians; there are many others who have put in more practice than himself without equal success, he says to prove his point. Only those people who are born with a God-given gift for music can be great. It would be futile for those, who are not, to seek greatness. "Nishprayojam" he repeats emphatically "Nishprayojam!"
What Mani Iyer has accepted unquestionably is that there is a mystique in Carnatic music which just cannot be explained away. It is unfathomable. and no other music has it to the extent Carnatic music has.
to demonstrate the indescribable, Mani Iyer brings out a metronome and turns it on. He says, he finds it difficult to keep to its steady, precise, unremitting superhuman rhythm !
I ask him about the structure and construction of the mridangam which, after 60 years of association, must be almost another limb of his body.
It is hollow shell with treble at one end and bass at other. Almost 90 per cent of the mridangam players do not give the impression that they have bothered to tune the bass to the correct lower octave. So, having one single chamber or compartment, would not there be a dissonance or clash inside thereby adversely affecting the tonal quality ?
"There is a connection between the two" he says, "If you keep the left end pressed gently, the right hand produces a clear tone. But it should be done judiciously because this could slightly raise the pitch of the right hand end. the left end need not necessarily be tuned to the exact lower octave, but its pitch has a definite influence on the tonal quality of the mridangam which is hard to explain away, vocally. "For me, even if the right hand is tuned correctly I pay particular attention to tone of the left hand" he says.
In the tabla, the membrane is thinner than the mridangam which used cow hide and goat skin; hence the difference in tone. But the bahan (left) of the tabla has certain extra possibilities and more fingers are used. If the choru is fixed on the left end of the mridangam, would it help ? No; the vertical position in which tabla is played is what gives them some more scope for the left hand.
Now the mridangam player has an opportunity to show his virtuoso talents either during pallavi, or the taniavarthanam but where else except in a limited way, in anticipatory playing during swara prastharas ?
He says there is no fixed limitation for the mridangam's role in a concert. There is much of muchness in the method of tabla accompaniment, it just keeps the rhythm. But the mridangam has to get the laya by the stem and play according to the music.
(There have, however, been some experiments in the North to expand its scope). Here in the south, one has to play a different style for Madurai Mani, Alathoor brothers , G.N.B. the tabla player does not change his style, it is the same for all singers or performers regardless of their particular styles. In mridangam playing, even during a single concert, the style is in a constant state of flux. Not so in North Indian music. anyway, that is his impression, he adds. there is tendency on the part of some tabla players to bring in some elements of the mridangam style. He mentions young Zakir Husain (son of Ustad Allah Rakha) who has played with Mani Iyer on an L.P., and speaks highly the young virtuoso.
"You have criticised the tendency of present day vocalists to sing in lower sruthis, thus spoiling the tone and timbre of the voice. this refers to the male vocalists. and this has dissuaded you from using the mike because a lower sruthi spoils the tone of the mridangam".
"It spoils the tone not only of the mridangam but the voice itself". If he were to tune the mridangam to M.D.Ramanathan's pitch which is about half katta, the mridangam will sound like dull, thuds. A close friend of Mani Iyer recalls how at the Thyagaraja Uthsavam, Kalpathy, 2000 or more people would gather to listen to Chembai, Chowdiah, Mani and with no mike. About his controversial decision 7 years ago, never to use the mike, he says that a person who is used to the mike only weakens his voice because of this mechanical aid he has come to depend on and finally the voice 'goes'. He also clarifies that it is only for open concerts. He realises that it is indispensable for radio broadcasts and L.P.Recordings. this decision is based on his conviction that if mikes and amplifiers come in, audience participation goes out. For any concert to click, there should be the right combination of several factors, the vocalist, the violinist, the mridangist, the hall, audience and their response --- only then can the best be brought out of him. If there is a mike in use, the members of the audience tend to talk amongst themselves because no effort is needed to listen to the music which is injected into their ears. If there is no mike, they come and sit closer, transmit their response to those behind them.
to the query whether he has thought of any possible changes in the mridangam to improve its tonal quality by alterations in the wood used, the diameter or the width of the mridangam, he is quite emphatic that it would be a 'blunder' if any such thing is tried. the mridangam as it is today, is perfectly designed. any change will spoil the tone. No doubt, the length of the mridangam has changed. From 20 inches, there are mridangams in use which are 22", 24" even 25" long. But it is a strain to play the very large ones. the lower the sruthi, the longer the mridangam. He adds that the mridangam as it is known today finds mention only in recent years, probably a generation before him. Perhaps Narayanaswamy Appa?
Asked whether he would play the notes of a raga with his left hand, he says, it just is not possible. It is only an illusion in sound created in the minds of the listener. At the most, the left hand can reproduce only the sa-pa-sa notes.
What is most eventful happening in his life?
He says from
the age of 2 or so, he must have listened to the melams from nearby
temple in Pazhayannur when he was born. The percussion had become part
of his heart beat by the time he was 8 or 9 years when he started playing
the mridangam. His father and mother taught him and encouraged him. when
he was 12 or 13 years, he insisted that his father takes him to Vaidyanatha
Iyer of Tanjore. His father had not heard of him but knew Swamy Iyer So,
after reaching Tanjore, they were going in search of Swamy Iyer's house.
They happened to pass by a temple when Katha kalakshepam
had just given over, and stopped to ask a man standing by, the way. He
looked at the young boy with the mridangam and guessed that it must be
the young prodigy the wise man of Tanjore had heard about. He took Mani
and his father to his own house. There was nothing to offer by way of a
meal except rice and curds. It was meal to remember, though . It was Vaidyanatha
Iyer himself whom they had accosted . Mani Iyer had a tryst with him in
Tanjore.
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