An Evening with Dr. Balamuralikrishna
I vaguely remember (mind, my dear Watson, many memories over time can be inaccurate, often brain laces them with its own imaginary or disparate details, in an effort to produce a more durable colorful painting) my school days in that bustling culturally throbbing coastal town. Our family friend, Sri Ramana in one of his regular drop-ins announced, “We are going to Tyagaraja Festival (Aradhana) function in the town, today we may get to see Balamurali”. Though I had heard about the reputed vocalist, I was not fully aware of his extraordinary accomplishments in art. By then, he had already donned the role of Narada (the celestial messenger, a very devout singer of Hari, and Hara too; He is the offspring of Brahma and Saraswati), lent his voice as a playback singer in several Telugu films (ex: Nartanasala – oh, that classic BW timeless mythological artistic piece, on Mahabharata), and of course, he conducted a very popular program at AIR. Mr. Ramana, on the way to the festival venue, casually made a remark that remained in my consciousness till today: “Balamurali is no doubt a gifted vocalist, but often he drifts into experimentation”. Ramana is no average listener of (Carnatic) music. Nor he is like one of those pseudo-rasikas of modern day, who keep deluding themselves that by just keeping the beat (timing), they understand music. Though a simple artisan by day job, a watchmaker by profession, Ramana could sing impromptu any Tyagaraja song, with all its musical embellishments. He was, at the time, studying for a music diploma from Vijayawada, via distant learning. Music flowed effortlessly in Ramana’s family, his daughters played vina.
Years later, a close relative commented derisively – “These days, Balamurali goes on stretching the phrase ‘Hari’ in every (rendering of) composition”. Yet another family member, a student of classical dance, complained: “Balamurali came here, but he did not sing any Kannada compositions”. Little did she know that he had rendered Purandaradasa songs with the same vigor and passion as any number of Telugu compositions, not to speak of his playback singing in Hamsageethe. He even translated a well-known Purandaradasa composition into Telugu, with utmost fidelity and charm.
Till yesterday, I have not been able to see a Balamurali’s live performance, from beginning to end. Over the years, I have listened to many of his recordings, watched him on TV, but somehow I’ve always missed his programs. But, what a remarkable musical genius? Truly, one has to do certain – universally valid, mandatory things in life. Go and look at the Ganges at least once. Look at the rising sun on seashore, like Rameswaram beech. Shake hands with a science Nobel laureate. Meet a great inventor or a stunningly original thinker. And watch a first-rate classical dance (Odissi, Kuchipudi, or Bharatanatyam). Must see a scintillating performer like Yamini Krishnamurty at least once. Listen to a first rate composer like Dr. Balamuralikrishna. Sit quietly in front of a great saint, with no thoughts, no questions, just imbibing the supreme vacuum. Then, all great travails of life just melt away, rather sublime – leaving you in peace. In such times, you come to feel what is profound, what is not, what is worth arguing about, what is not, what is worth pursuing, etc. Did I miss listing Bismillah Khan? Ah, how did I omit S. Rajeswara Rao and Ghantasala? That’s why art is long and life is short.
Why? What is unique about Balamurali? After all, there are plenty of classical singers, both in Carnatic and Hindustani. It’s simple. Like in the West, many of the run-of-mill Indian singers (calling them just singers is a bit harsh, but some of them are just technically good singers, that’s all) just render the same old compositions (songs), and an assortment of ragas. True, the compositions are all great, but they were composed in the distant past, some even five hundred years ago. The vocalist may try to interpret, add a bit of her own original chords (sa, pa, thakidathom)– but that’s all. Even in this minimum requirement, many of today’s singers are woefully inadequate. Because such dry musical renderings fail to evoke ‘true feeling’ in listeners’ hearts, often totally missing (absolutely blanking out) in appropriate emotional quality. Often singers lack linguistic skills (third rate diction masquerading as great ability) and many performances fail to resonate with the astute listener. There are, always a few very attentive listeners (like Hanuma, who knows everything about music, poetry, and art) in every performance. They come from far off places, with earnest hope and expectation in their hearts. A real great artist must also create; in music, that means, composing. Dr. Balamuralikrishna is the only living vocalist who has composed his own songs, tillanas, in Telugu and Sanskrit. And of course, he performed a very wide range of compositions. Often his renderings (whether they are Ramadasu songs or Swati Tirunal Hindi compositions) crystallize into unsurpassable benchmarks in south Indian music.
The first song, a composition on the three devatas, Ganesa, Hanuman, and Krishna was his own creation. I heard it in an old cassette recording. Even at this age, his voice and energy are matchless. Except for a select few in the audience, most of the lyrics are beyond the comprehension of average audience. But it is not the fault of vocalist, for this pitiable situation. Unless one is well versed in both Telugu and Sanskrit, one will not understand his compositions, nor for that matter any other great songs (of Vasudevacharya, Annamayya, Tyagayya, Ramadasu, and others) their nuances, profound meaning. Why these three gods? It is simple, Ganesa is a remover of obstacles and also, He is the primal cause for critical mission failures. Ravana could not succeed in taking Siva’s atma-linga to Lanka, because he forgot to pray to Ganesa. Hanuman is an epitome of devotion, humility, fearless courage, and extraordinary wisdom. And, how can we have any melodious pleasing music without Krishna? Krishna, Himself is an embodiment of pure bliss, a distillate of pure ‘rasa’. Then the program developed into a multi-lingual music fare: A song on (his own) mother, Siva, another original composition on Durga (a composition only with sa, ri, da, ma), a Hindi Swati Tirunal composition (Jamuna kinare), Bengali (Rabindra) song, a Gopanna composition (paluke bangara పలుకే బంగారమాయెనా) and a fast tempo tillana (again his own composition).
[In future I will give lyrics of four or five of his original compositions that were sung in the program. Though I have the lyrics (in Telugu) with me right now, I have to transcribe with a font writer (Lekhini), then check for errors, and post them on the net. It means I have to find time, energy, mood, and patience. Foremost, I want to post this write-up quickly before I start forgetting finer details.]
Despite age, his voice still has the same reverberating, multi-tonal richness. His sudden bursts of exploding energy (some critics probably did not understand them) in elucidating certain phrases is blinding to the ears. I came to appreciate such energetic vocals by listening repeatedly some songs – Narayana te (నారాయణ తే నమో నమో), maru paluka (మారు పలుక కున్నావేమిరా), nagumomu ganaleni (నగుమోము గనలేని నా) etc. I mean no carping – but some times, the accompaniments (violin or chitra-vina) cannot translate such energetic pulses of multispectral sound. Then, during the concert, I also observed certain micro-modulations of voice, during extended elaborations of notes. Again, I could not hear the same modulation details in the violin; I could be wrong too. I have to go back to the audio recording and listen carefully to check this finding. Even now, Dr. Mangalampalli could hold a note for a very long period, putting the syllable suspended in mid air. It is as though he could nail a particular note on the wall, and say, “stay there as long as I command”. Obviously, the audience is carried away by such a mastery of breath, music, and absolute concentration. I mean no disparagement – but it is a fact – a glaring deficiency of modern narrow (technical/trade) education (Indian as well as Western), the college going student (I do not pick on the young, even elders have the same shortcoming) hardly knows languages (Telugu, Italian, Hindi, Sanskrit). So, in most concerts many listeners hardly understand a song, its lyrics, the underlying meaning, and the vast emotional repertoire of colors. The audience rather impatiently tries to sit, keeping the beat with hands, feet, and occasional twists and turns of face. Dr. Balamurali does not only compose great music, he also writes very clever, witty lyrics in Telugu. The reader has to consult his magnum opus, Suryakanthi to appreciate the range and depth of his compositions.
Dr. Saraswati
I came to know about her only through a cassette tape - it was the recording of a live concert by Dr. Balamurali in Pittsburgh SV temple. She could really (and why not? She is a polymath, a multi-linguist, and a versatile artist) enunciate in clear tone and diction, the essential information of a composition. This time too, she punctuated the musical pieces with very interesting, yet new background about the artistes. Of the vocalist, we come to know a few startling nuggets: Dr. Balamuralikrishna got the Best Singer award for a Malayalam movie, for a Hindi composition by Swati Tirunal. When he visited Calcutta, the local AIR got hold of him to record fifty Rabindranath Bengali songs – as gift of Rabindra sangeet to posterity. Though we knew of his French Chevalier award, little did we have any idea – how he got it? It seems the French musicians threw a challenge to Dr. Balamuralikrishna. Could you play one of our famous national songs, on your viola? Just by listening once. For a genius brain that holds the magical music key to all seventy-two mela-karta-ragas, this feat was no big deal (no brainer as they say here). He not only reproduced the French musical piece, but later he conducted their orchestra too, it seems.
Would the composer’s fans get to see in near future, a Bharataratna for Dr. Balamurali? Who knows, what are the politics behind the award? But, if the goddess Sarada plays her magic wand, he will definitely get it. Rather, if the Bharataratna award has to retain any future credibility, it should be given to Dr. Mangalampalli. And it should be given sooner, certainly while he is still performing on stage.
On a serious note, award or no award, his compositions, originality, and his total dedication to south Indian (Carnatic) music will vibrate forever in any music lover, if only she listens with a pure unbiased pristine heart. Forget the average, at best mediocre music critics’ silly opinions (you cannot blame ‘em, they have to churn out some froth to catch reader’s attention, to earn paltry word pay): Why does he smile while singing? ‘That unbearable smirk’ on face, etc.. Every serious artist is allowed certain latitude while performing, it could be a flashy statement-making dress, some bling-bling, a funny facial gesture, or queer headgear – all those things are an integral part of stage performance. No harm in that! People should not forget that the artist is in “his zone” while performing. Whether music critics like it or not, whether semi-literate music patrons cringe in disbelief or not – there is and will be for many decades to come, only one Balamuralikrishna on Indian music scene. I join hands with all his admirers in paying tribute to Sri Mangalampalli, may he enjoy good health and great voice for many years to come.
[Sorry, I could not cover here, the talent and performance of accompanists. I mean no slight to them. I am sure others will write and comment about them. At the moment, my interests and passion are drawn to understanding lyrics, their intricate meaning, the tapestry of literature, the underlying feeling(s), and bhakti component – that itself is a whole platter-full.]
After many years, we got to see a wonderful live performance. It was conducted without a flaw by the Albany Telugu association jointly with Pallavi. In those few hours, art has crossed the bounds of language, country, and culture. What a great elated feeling? For a moment, the experience has brought into sharp focus all that is good, sweet, caring, and ennobling in Telugu culture.
Draft composed after attending the Classical Indian Musical Concert by Dr. Balamuralikrishna and Chitravina N. Ravikiran, at SUNY-Albany on May 8, 2011. Copyright by the author 2011. This article has been first posted at Sulekha.
