I have been attending some concerts for the last couple of weeks. The first thing that I notice is the distinct lack of youngsters amongst the audience. Perhaps only 10% of the audience will be in mid-twenties. The rest all are aged or nearing fifties.
The concert held recently in NMKRV hosted about a 1000 people amongst the audience, and wherever I saw, I could only see white hair! There were people cramped up everywhere, in the nook and corner, sitting on steps, on sills, and some even standing! How come that a passion so wrought amongst the previous generation was not passed through with the same zeal to our generation?
Concerts generally are composed of – based on my limited understanding of the Carnatic music – various shades of Classical music. Typically, it starts off with a Varna, and then perhaps a Keertana. The main crust of a concert is undoubtedly the Raga, followed by a song in that Raga, and then Swara, or Neraval. An even higher level of music is what is often called as RTP : Raga – Thana – Pallavi. And then, to give side accompaniments their due share, there will be Thani, and then Thillana, and amidst all this, a little more of what I do not know as of now, ending with more simple songs!!
There are people who come for passing time by listening to some melodious music. There are others who concentrate (try to figure out like a riddle, and jot down) the name of the Raga. Some come to listen while doing some other task, like I saw a lecturer correcting answer papers at the same time appreciating the music. Some have gizmos to record the full 3 hour song and try all possible things to get their gadgets as close to the speaker as possible!
I have always felt that a concert is like a game of sports in which a number of different people – often unknown to one another prior to the concert commencement - exhibit each of their mastery. It is as good as a close fought game of table tennis, or lawn tennis, or badminton. Just as good as how a stroke in a game can be, so is the skill of the main artiste in expounding a raga. Just as how the two players play against one another to win a point, so is the competition between a vocalist and a violinist, between a mrudanga and a ghatam, and the only difference is that it is not a fight to win any point but just a matter of appreciating the beauty of music in all its glory, and this ‘win-win’ situation never fails to receive a resounding applause, especially considering the fact that such a competition, such a composition, such a harmony, such a coordination happens amidst artistes unknown to one another, in front of thousands of people, only based on hours and hours of dedication and practice and by the mere understanding and smile and appreciation conveyed through the eyes from one artiste to another! It is simply unbelievable!
Another thought I have had whenever I have been to a concert – vocal, especially - is the movement of hands and odd facial expression that the vocalist has to make for the clear expounding of the music. It is almost like without that particular action, or the facial expression, such a frequency, or intonation, or note cannot come through. The movement of hands reminds me of pottery and how the hands have to move so delicately in order to have the perfect shape and beauty, which is true in case of musical vocabulary too! And however funny the facial expression might seem for a by-stander, it just shows to what extent the concentration is, especially considering that everything is in front of thousands of people.
While it is a great effort for many of us to sit for a long period of time, it is simply astounding how each of the artistes sit in the same position for over three hours and do not feel any discomfort whatsoever! The only discomfiture they feel is when the microphones start screeching suddenly, or when there is a power failure suddenly and there is no UPS or generator in stand-by! Some artistes carry on nevertheless unfathomed but some particular ones, stop in the middle. Generally when thani starts, audience gets restless and some start leaving, but in one of the recent concerts I went, the main artiste spoke into the microphone “Is it fair…?” It is indeed unfair to leave a concert without appreciating the side accompaniments performing their mastery.
There was a time when people used to flock into concerts only if the artiste was Balamurali Krishna or Yesudas or U Srinivas or Kunnakudi Vaidyanathan. But such an era no longer exists now. Every concert is filled to its brim with people because the skill on display in each of the concerts has become that much more fascinating and every artiste has got an ace of spades up their sleeves!
Monday, February 12, 2007
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3 comments:
One of the many "white haired people" would surely have been my mom!! Good one!!
NMKRV Mangala aunditorium!!!!!!! Brings back a thousand memories. It is a pity it was constructed after I left the college. But we have aata-adufied in the kallu-hullu and cement used in that building. Btw, NMKRV canteen coffee is good, next time try maadu. They make balushas on Wednesdays and their mosranna rocks! Slurpaya namaha!
this only means you are older than u think! :)
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