Abstract
On my earlier blog, Krithika Chandrashekar had observed that Quarantine From Reality (QFR) provides a nice introduction to classical music for lovers of film songs and that many people end up relating popular songs of their childhood to classical numbers in later life. Several questions crossed my mind as I thought about her comments. Is this the ‘bridging’ function that QFR and many similar programmes in practically every regional language in India fulfill? Is a ‘bridge’ between ‘popular’ and ‘classical’ music even necessary and relevant today? Is there two-way traffic between the two genres of music and how has it changed over time? In this blog, I address some of these issues and come up with an unexpected answer. By way of a caveat, I may mention that I will discuss only Tamil film songs in relation to Carnatic music.
Is a ‘bridge’ necessary at all?
I start with that basic question. Is there indeed such a chasm between film and classical music that someone has to build a ‘bridge’ for rasikas from one side to go across to the other? A little reflection tells us that what is implied here is not the difference between the two forms of music per se but the appreciation of it. In the ultimate analysis, are not the various genres merely different facets of music that is a whole? In that case, don’t music lovers form a homogenous lot rather than distinct categories that need a ‘bridge’ to appreciate each other’s preferences? At another level, it may not be a bridge as much as a ‘translation’ service. But then, do lovers of the two genres of music inhabit such different worlds and speak alien tongues that ‘translation’ is needed for them to comprehend each other?
We can appreciate where arrangers of programmes like QFR are coming from. They are convinced that even a working knowledge and understanding of classical music enhances your enjoyment of film music. Similarly, by exposing rasikas of Carnatic music to selected film songs, they broaden their taste and appreciation. In the process, they help change the passive consumers of songs to well-informed and evolved connoisseurs of music. And without a hint of mutual condescension at that.
From the song to the ragam
One of the all-time popular duets of P Susheela and TMS is Mullai Malar Mele from the film Utthama Puthiran (1958). I am sure that even now, a number of people love that song without knowing that it is based on the ragam Kanada. An even greater number of those who have loved the P Susheela solo Maalai Pozhudhin Mayakkathile from Bhagyalakshmi (1961) may have no clue that it is based on the rare (for Carnatic music) ragam Chandrakauns. Such examples can be multiplied. These are instances of going from the ‘specific’ of the popular song to the ‘general’ of the ragam upon which it is based.
From the ragam to the song
While introducing Episode #316 of QFR, Subhasree Thanikachalam explains how even a musician of the stature of Veena S. Balachander had felt that the dance song Mannavan Vandhanadi by P Susheela from Thiruvarutchelvar (1967) was quintessential Kalyani. Similarly, Ennai Pol Pennallavo (P Susheela-Vanagamudi-1957), Vindayilum Periya Vindayadi (P Leela-Padikkadha Medhai-1960) and Ariya Paruvamada (P Leela-Missiamma-1955) are examples of the use of Todi, Kambodhi and Karaharapriya intheir chaste forms in Tamil films. These are songs where listeners familiar with Carnatic music may have identified the raga at once and gone on to appreciate the song even more. In such cases, the raga provides a framework in which the mind also fits in other songs based on that raga and thereby enhances the listener’s overall appreciation.
The popular-classical binary
The song-ragam-song sequence might at some levels seem like a distinction without a difference. It is true that for most of us, music is basically an auditory experience. All of us respond to the tune first – we like it in our heart or don’t. When this like is combined with the knowledge of the music like the raga, etc., then the head also comes into play. When the joy felt by the heart on hearing a nice song is informed by the mind about its finer aspects, then the appreciation and happiness of listening to music increases manifold overall.
The clinching endorsement of this perspective comes from none other than the ever-innovative Sanjay Subrahmanyan himself. In Episode # 11 of On That Note, he informs viewers that an Ilaiyaraaja tune from the film Raja Paarvai (1981) that had kept buzzing in his mind all these years inspired him to create a new ragam which he has named Dravida Kalavati. Sanjay even confesses that Ilaiyaraaja’s music is closest to his own conception of music in the abstract. Obviously, this goes beyond bridging and translation. Here is a legendary Carnatic vocalist, at the peak of his singing, being motivated enough to enrich Carnatic music with a new ragam based on a Tamil film song he had heard some forty years earlier. The ‘bridge’ is no longer an abstract construct here. It is the musician himself who is acting as the bridge, demonstrating that musical creativity can be inspired as much by popular film music as by bhakti or any other factor. If such lateral traverse and enrichment becomes more common among performing artists, then our vast heritage of various genres, including folk and tribal music, can spawn a fresh cycle of creativity in the years to come.
Conclusion
The phenomenon of the melody created by a music director forming the basis for a classical singer formulating a new ragam four decades later, shows that the old labels of popular and Carnatic music as opposing binaries are breaking down. As Prime Minister, on being confronted with the question of generalists versus specialists, Indira Gandhi is supposed to have asked “Which generalists, Which specialists?” We already seem to have a new generation of eclectic music rasikas, not merely lovers of film music and Carnatic music in isolation of each other. Programmes like QFR will continue to be popular and may inspire the young artists featured there to do something creative in their later careers. Thanks to Sanjay’s intervention, the conundrum thus stands resolved magically to reveal a continuum of ‘specialist’ film music lovers and ‘generalist’ rasikas of Carnatic music, shall we say? To paraphrase Tagore, into that heaven of freedom, our country seems to be already waking up.
S. Krishna Kumar
30th August 2021
Bengaluru
Talk the Walk 