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The magic of Murali
– A tribute to a maestro
By T.M.Anantharaman
For over four decades, I am captive to his music. “Music
follows me wherever I go,” he smiled mischievously recently
while in Bangalore. Quite like him to be assertive, at times
even cryptic!
Branded as a maverick by “purists”, a word to which
he takes strong objections, he revels in twisting their tails
and springing surprises. His creative juices seem to be flowing
in full vigour even after more than six decades as a performing
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There is no denying that he has carved
a special niche in Carnatic music by dint of sheer hard work.
Yes, even creativity demands focused work even though, as he
claims, “I never touch the tampura to practice. Without
music, I am nowhere, I am nothing!”
Elsewhere he had noted that “music just follows me.”
True, because he not only sings but also plays the viola, violin,
mridangam, kanjira and veena, besides composing and directing
music for films. He has done all, including playback singing
and acting in some films, with equal enthusiasm and facility.
He continues to be popular as a performing musician and is a
living paradigm, a legend who has taken Carnatic music to new
heights of awareness and creativity.
He loves to demolish established viewpoints. When an interviewer
asked his reaction to criticism that he flouted tradition, he
retorted that people who talk about tradition don’t know
what it really means.
He affirmed: “Tradition is only the base, the foundation—i.e.
sa, ri, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni. Based on this, each singer builds
his or her own structure. Each builds a house according to one’s
tastes. Each singer has a style of his/her own. So those who
talk about preserving tradition don’t know what they are
talking about!”
He has a point because music is constantly evolving. There is
continuity but the same idioms, phrases, swaras et al. are imbued
with a fresh approach by each singer.
By creativity, I am, of course, talking about the magic of Balamurali’s
music. I have been an unabashed admirer of his music for decades.
This tribute I pen in his honour on the day when he is reaching
another milestone in his illustrious, colourful career.
He will turn 78 on July 6. Perhaps ‘old’ is not
quite right. It should be ‘young’ because even now
he is quite agile and lively!
Not long ago, he proved it by giving a concert to a legion of
his admirers at the Tirumala temple precincts—a place
where he had vowed earlier he would never sing.
It took him over 17 years to relent because at long last the
Andhra Government had agreed to restore links with him by recognising
his contribution to classical music art form. It also appointed
him once again as the “Aasthana Vidwan” of Tirupati
Devastanam for two years.
Balamurali had been vociferously pointing out that the Andhra
Government had done little all these years to recognise classical
musicians and their contributions for the cultural resurgence
witnessed in recent times.
Where Andhra lagged, Karnataka has stolen a march as it were.
He was awarded the title “Musician of the Century”
by one of the religious institutions in the state. That brings
my focus once again on this musician extraordinaire and why
I admire him so much.
Mangalampalli Balamuralikrishna is an iconoclast in Carnatic
classical music, no doubt about it. He has ventured into composing
own kritis in all 72-mela karta ragas and many of them are quite
beautiful. Just as if to rub it in to those diehard-old-timers,
he sings with nonchalance many of his own kritis on concert
platforms.
I particularly like the Naganandini (melakarta raga) piece played
by him on the violo; his kriti “Dakshayini rakshamam dritam”
arresting in its sweep and hauntingly melodious.
And he takes puckish delight by singing entirely new ragas,
many of which are his own creations: ragas like Mahati, Sumukam,
Lavangi, Manorama, Vallabhi, Trisakthi, Rohini, Sushama etc.
Many of these new genre ragas transgress the traditional theory
of having a minimum of five notes in the arohana and avarohana
(ascending and descending scales). Ragas like “Mahati”
and “Sumukam” have become popular despite having
four notes only and are very captivating when he enunciates
them.
He surprised the Chembur (Bombay) audience in 1966 by singing
a captivating “Mahati” and his composition “mahinya
madhura murthey” beautifully surprising the pundits no
end. I still have the audio tape of this concert where he also
sings captivating swaras for raga “Mohanangi” in
the ragamalika phase for the exhilarating ragam-tanam-pallavi
in raga “Thodi”.
I also have a London Kentington Town Hall concert where he has
sung a brilliant “Subhapanthuvarali” raga with Thyagaraja
composition “Ne pogda kunte”; a Bahrain concert
where he sings a hauntingly evocative Dasar kriti “ Ye
paria sobagu ennava devadali kaane” in raga Hamsanandi
and the awe-inspiring “Omkara karini” in raga Lavangi,
his own creation.
Who can forget the melodic beauty that he etched, carved and
embellished with when singing rare ragas like Sunadhavionodhini
(devadi deva of Mysore Vasudeva Char) and Hamsavinodhini (his
own composition guruni smarimbo) in the sixties or early seventies?
Many of his compositions, numbering over 400 mostly in Telugu
but in many other languages as well including Tamil, stand testimony
to the high creative muse he brings to musical modes and poetry.
More importantly, most of these are imbued with not only lyrical
content but a grand structural design, outlining the intrinsic
characteristics of the notes on which the ragas are based.
Many examples can be given. His ability to play with notes and
its corresponding sounds are matchless, witness the superb phrasings
in the kriti “sada thava pada sannithim” in raga
Shanmukhapriya. Or, the inimitably classic melakarta Sarasangi
and his original composition “Hanuma, hanuma O numama”
where as he says “the ‘note ma’ comes spontaneously
in all places where the sound ‘ma’comes!”?
Or, again the many awe-inspiring yet musically-rich varnams,
notably the brilliant “amma ananda dayini” in raga
Gambira Nattai (its ending is compared with the “thunderstorm
in the sixth symphony of Beethoven” by his disciple Prince
Rama Varma). I have heard it sung with facility and flair by
the popular Aruna Sairam in one concert at the RR Sabha in Mylapore,
Chennai, some years ago.
Last but not least, the cascading, titillating, multi-hued tillanas
(described aptly by one ardent fan as “thrillanas”)
that he has composed and rendered to the joy of the connoisseurs
and laymen alike!
These are some of magical moments from Murali that I will preserve
and cherish for as long as I live.
Many may not be aware that in some respects he reveres tradition
as much as anybody else. Even his traditional singing has a
creative spark. The “utsava sampradya” compositions
of Thyagaraja or the Ashtapathis of Jayadeva get a new lease
of life as it were when Murali imparts his magic to them.
Or take for example the songs of Narayana Theerthar or Sadashiva
Brimhendrar or Badrachala Ramadas. They are soaked in bhava
and become effulgent entities with bakhti rasa when he embellishes
them with his inimitable soulful music!
A “narayanethe namo namo” in raga Behag or a “pibare
rama rasam” in tugging Ahir Bhairavi or a “ paluke
bangarumayina” in melodious Anandabhairavi are veritable
examples of his intuitive skills in making music appeal to one
and all.
I have one tape of his concert given way back in the seventies
in Bangalore where he has sung the Saveri composition of Thyagaraja
“ Chalu chalu Nee Vuntulu” and Dikshitar’s
memorable Bhairavi kriti “Bala gopala” in a truly
devotional mood and yet enchanting style.
And another sung at about the same time I think where he tugs
at your heart with a brilliantly moving Kambodhi raga with a
masterful “Evari mata vinna” of Thyagaraja and a
highly original Mandari raga with the kriti “Sagala kellaku
neene” ( composer unknown but the kriti is in praise of
Lord Shiva).
I must not forget to mention two of the most enchanting film
songs rendered by him: “thanga radam vandadu” in
the melodious raga Abhogi from the film Kalai Kovil; and the
classical ragamalika “orunal poduma” from the film
Tiruvilayadal. These are timeless, memorable melodies, and quite
popular even today many decades after they were first sung.
This tribute, however, is not to talk about his creative abilities
as a singer but as a perceptive musician full of wit and humour.
Back in the late sixties when he had swept Bombay off its feet
with such beautiful ditties like “brihadeeswara mahadeva”
in lilting Kanada or “nagumomu ganaleni”in a pleasing
Abheri , he was participating in a lec-dem at the Anushakti
Nagar Sabha near Chembur.
Somebody asked him why “some talas have ‘edupu’
after the start of a beat, while others have it with the start
of the tala beat. In his inimitable spunky style, he said: “We
all know how we are born but do we know why we are born? Singing
to a tala is like this!”
Somebody else wanted to know how to distinguish between a minor
and a major raga? His reply: “There are no major or minor
ragas, only major or minor musicians!” A ripple of laughter
coasted through the audience, many smiling and nodding their
heads in agreement.
His amazing sense of humour has been revealed at other times
too. His disciple Prince RamaVarma once gave a list asking him
to sing many rare ragas, including some of his own creations.
Looking at the long list, Balamurali remarked: “Usually
it is the guru who gives a test to his disciple, but here he
is putting me to test!.” And, the audience tittered and
was won over easily!
I was witness to his unique brand of humour in other places
too. In Chembur, Bombay, he once sang raga Latangi in a concert
at the Shell colony with a rare panache, including in one place
touching even a foreign note, followed by his beautiful composition
“tamra lochani latangi”. When one local musician
after the concert asked him how come he had used a foreign note
while singing the raga, Balamurali replied: “ You see
I tried it and liked it and kept it that way.” I was present
and was dumbfounded by the sheer cheekiness of his comment.
At the Shastri Hall Sabha in Luz area of Mylapore, Chennai,
there was a discussion on the topic “Carnatic music today”
and participants on the dais included, among others, mridangist
Umayalpuram Sivaraman, violin maestro Lalgudi Jayaraman and
Balamuralikrishna.
When his turn came to speak, Balamurali began with the preamble
how only Sivaraman knew the exact moment to start playing the
mridangam when he was singing a song like “brihadeeswara
mahadeva” and pointed out that Sivaraman first keenly
observed where the beats should begin for a song and then accordingly
joined in.
Next, he turned to Lalgudi Jayaraman as if to say ‘what
do I say about you’ and then facing the audience said:
“We all know what an excellent violinist Lalgudi Jayraman
is. But I also know one more thing about him.” There,
typically Balamurali paused!
The audience was hooked, curiosity roused and waiting eagerly
to find out what he would add further. After a brief pause and
a smile, Balamurali continued: “Few of you know that Lalgudi
Sir is an excellent singer too. We singers thank the Lord that
he has confined himself to playing the violin. If he had chosen
to give vocal concerts, we all would have to look for other
professions to make our living!”
There was a thunderous applause and Lalgudi was clean bowled
and all smiles enjoying the open admiration of his talents by
Balamurali.
Once Balamurali in his concert had seen some in the audience
leaving their seats immediately after the mridangist began the“thani
avartanam”. Balamurali stooped before his mike and announced:
“There will be a 15 minutes interval after the ‘thani
avartanam’. Please remain seated. After that we will all
go out. I will also come with you for coffee!”
On another occasion when he was singing at the Music Academy
after a gap of 10 years or so, the then Academy president T.T.Vasu
said how much he was an admirer of Balamurali’s music
and he was grateful that the singer had come to perform in the
Academy after a long gap. “In appreciation of his gesture
we present Balamurali with a cheque for Rs one lakh,”
he said and presented the cheque.
Balamurali bowed and accepted the honour and said: “I
thank the Academy for this fine gesture but I would like to
donate this amount back to the Academy so that they can start
a fund to help indigent musicians.”
In those days Rs.1 lakh was big money and Balamurali had once
again pointed out the flaw in the system by this gesture—many
deserving musicians were eking out a hand-to- mouth living and
such a fund was the crying need of the hour.
To a question once whether one could sing swaras at great speed,
Balamurali replied: “You know there is a laya when you
speak. If not, I cannot follow what you say. It is the same
when you sing swaras in speed. If there is a laya, there will
be a natural flow. Speed must come with a natural flow, not
just to create an effect!”
I could go on about innovations Balamurali had brought into
the concert platforms when at the peak of his career. He was
the first to introduce an “interval” in Carnatic
music concert, an action which invited much criticism then from
“purists “ but later found acceptance by the public
because they wanted a break for tea or coffee or refreshments.
He was also first to participate in jugalbandi concerts with
renowned Hindustani classical musicians and get respect for
Carnatic music by exhibiting not only his superior voice quality
but also sheer exuberance of the Carnatic melody, especially
in the ‘kalpana swara’ prasthara phase of the concerts.
The opposition was simply no match for his genius in raga elaboration,
singing of kritis, manodharma swaras or simply devotional numbers,
including in Hindustani ragas like Ahir Bhairav or Darbari or
Chandrakauns.
Truly, he is a creative artist who has stamped his own style
of singing. In the process, he has opened up new vistas to take
the grammar and beauty of Carnatic music forward and has brought
immense listening pleasure to thousands like me!
Balamurali was once speaking in a TV interview with lady ghazal
singer Penaz Masani. She asked: “So how would you describe
your music?” To which Balamurali jokingly replied: “Three
Ms means music – Masani (referring to Penaz Masani), Murali
and Money.” That should sum it up.
Except I would say three Ms should stand for music, maestro
and memorable when one speaks of Balamurali. Here is wishing
more creative punch to his endeavours in music on his 78th birthday
and wishing him many happy returns of the day!
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Comments
Raymond Jenkins - artindia@windowslive.com
Excellent Article! Very well written. Served to bring Balamurali sir closer to one's heart, just as his music does! Please keep writing and sharing them with the world. God bless.
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