Karaikudi style is not a family style. It is a veena style.
THE JOURNAL of THE MUSIC ACADEMY MADRAS Devoted to the Advancement of the Science and Art of Music Vol. LXXVII 2006, pp. 28-31
The Karaikudi Style
“Bhani” from “bhanihi” in Sanskrit which is from the root word “bhan” meaning “sound”. “Bhanihi” also has another meaning, “weaving”. Literally it is “weaving with sound”. But when one talks about style, a “bhani” in Carnatic [music], first and foremost is that one recognizes the total personality of the performer speaking through the music performed. The personality encompasses the way in which the performer has lived, the number of years staying with the master, the values held, the music listened to, the aesthetics developed, the right and wrong integrated unto oneself due to lineage or as disciples of the master, and finally the individual limitations and strength. “Bhani” is generally translated as “style” in English.3 […]
Describing a musical style of a parampara4 going back to several generations in the contemporary context becomes even more difficult, especially in an oral tradition such as Indian music.5 The Karaikudi style of veena playing started from Karaikudi veena brothers, Subbarama Iyer, Sambasiva Iyer’s son’s generation veena players in their family.6 No recordings are available of the music of Subbarama Iyer. […]
Karaikudi style is not a family style. It is a veena style. The lecture was presented by live demonstration at the different places to understand the Karaikudi style by Dr K S Subramanian.
“The Karaikudi Bani is characterized by Swaras that stand out, alternating Meetu and firmness with clarity one can feel it only when one listens to it. It is just like saying sugar is sweet. You can understand it only by tasting it.” – Ranganayaki Rajagopalan, quoted in Analytical study of the different banis and techniques of playing the saraswathi veena, PhD thesis by R. Jayanthi, University of Mysore 2006, Ch. 9 [↩]
“I was twelve when my parents, Veenai Lakshmi Ammal and Narayana Iyer, decided to give me in adoption to her uncle Sambasiva Iyer, who was concerned about the continuity of our tradition.” – Reminiscences: K Sambasiva Iyer and Mysore Vasudevachar, Narthaki Profiles, March 18, 2008 [↩]
With the demise of Dr. Pia Srinivasan, the world of Indian music has lost one of its most fervent supporters.
For over three decades she and her husband, renowned Indologist Prof. S.A. Srinivasan, spared no effort to acquaint discerning music lovers with the intricacies of South Indian classical music; and this with remarkable success as evident from critical acclaim for their publications including a musical memoir in Italian titled Il raga che porta la pioggia; a work not just distinguished by an understanding for the traditions and the ways of life in India but – in the words of Renata Maione – an empathy that enables her to judge in freedom from her own cultural heritage and gets the reader too involved in the India she describes.
Pia with her guru in 1969
In her own words, it all began “when I joined Kalakshetra in 1968 to learn Carnatic music. It was there that I met Rajeswari. It was a great event in my life as I came to realise more and more.”
Prof. David Reck (Amherst University), a close friend and associate in her lifelong pursuit of spreading Carnatic music far and wide, expressed best what this music meant to them and their students:
For those of us who experienced those halcyon days Pia brings back wonderful memories. For other readers her writing will bring the images, smells, tastes, personalities, rhythms of existence, and most of all the music of those times vividly to life.
In short, her and her husband’s quest was all about building bridges across cultural and linguistic divides; one that continues to benefit anyone willing to make an extra effort for the sake of getting immersed in this music for an extended period of time.
One of the debated topics in Carnatic music is the deviation by musicians from the so-called ‘original’ pathantaram of kriti-s. This article is not an attempt to provide a conclusive answer to end the debate but a constructive provocation and an invitation for opening up the topic for a wider debate. […]
While in matters of art and aesthetics no rule can be imposed on either the artists or their audiences, some relevant considerations in the matter appear to be: Is there incontrovertible proof in all such cases that the ‘versions’—which includes the raga, its arohanaavarohana, mela and musical phrasing—touted as the original or authentic are really the versions composed by their authors? In the case of modern composers there may not be any problem because most of them write them down in notation which, in spite of the inherent limitations of any notation to capture all the nuances of Carnatic music, provides at least a defence against wholesale distortion. In the case of composers who lived during an earlier era of entirely oral transmission of music, there would be real difficulty in ascertaining the authenticity beyond doubt. […]
The Tambura is considered queen among the Sruti vadhyas such as Ektar, Dotar, Tuntina, Ottu and Donai. Although tamburas are traditionally made at several places, the Thanjavur Tambura has a special charm.
Veena Asaris are the Tambura makers too but not all are experts, the reason being it requires a special skill to make the convex ‘Meppalagai’ or the plate covering the ‘Kudam’ (Paanai).
There are two ways of holding a Tambura. One is the “Urdhva” – upright posture, as in concerts. Placing the Tambura on the right thigh is the general practice. The other is to place it on the floor in front of the person who is strumming it. While practising or singing casually, it can be placed horizontally on the lap.
The middle finger and index finger are used to strum the Tambura. Of the four strings, the ‘Panchamam’, which is at the farther end is plucked by the middle finger followed by the successive plucking of ‘Sārani’, ‘Anusārani’ and ‘Mandara’ strings one after the other by the index finger. This exercise is repeated in a loop resulting in the reverberating sruti.
Sit in a quiet place with eyes closed and listen to the sa-pa-sa notes of a perfectly tuned Tambura – the effect is therapeutic.
Except a few, the current generation prefers electronic sruti accompaniment, portability being the obvious reason. Besides few music students are taught to tune and play the tambura. Beyond all this what seems to swing the vote is that the electronic sruti equipment with its heavy tonal quality can cover up when the sruti goes astray.
During the middle of the last century, Miraj Tambura (next only to the vintage Thanjavur) was a rage among music students, who were captivated by its tonal quality with high precision and the beautiful, natural gourd resonators.
Source: “Therapeutic effect”, The Hindu (Friday Review), 30 March 2018
The tambura or tanpura is a plucked drone instrument used to accompany instrumental or vocal performances. The four strings are played open rather than being depressed to alter the note. This example is considerably smaller than the typical tambura. A very small version is sometimes known as a tamburi.
This example is so profusely decorated it may have been made for display or for use at court. The front of the sound chamber features images of the Hindu deities Ganesha, Rama, Sita, Hanuman and Lakshmana, along with peacocks and cows. The neck is decorated with figures of a male musician playing a pipe or horn, a female musician playing a drum, and acrobats, who appear to be climbing a very tall bamboo pole. One of the female acrobats has a number of matkas (earthenware pots) stacked upon her head.
On the back, Krishna appears five times dancing with the gopis (cow-girls) in a circular pattern. They are flanked by four standing figures: the gods Shiva (holding his trident) and Brahma (shown with four heads and holding the vedas or sacred texts), and two rishis or great sages. The one standing below Brahma is Narada, who holds a vina, a musical instrument which he is said to have invented. He also wrote a treatise about music and was the chief of the gandharvas or heavenly musicians.
This tambura belongs to a small and fascinating group of similar tamburas, of which there are examples in museums around the world. However, most of these lack secure attribution records and the origins of the V&A instrument are something of a puzzle. The Museum’s records from 1922, when the object was acquired, state separately that it was from Pune, Maharashtra, and, slightly later, that it was probably made in Sipri (now Shivpuri), near Gwalior, Madhya Pradesh, although these places are very distant from each other. However, the fact that the sound chamber of the instrument is made of wood [?], rather than of gourd, suggests that it was made in the south of India as do other aspects of the shape of the instrument, and it has been suggested that the painting style can be linked with Mysore in the south. […]
Decorated instruments are also found in German, Austrian and Italian collections. According to Klaus-Peter Brenner, a similar instrument in the musical instrument collection of Goettingen University may have been manufactured on behalf of Raja Sir Sourindro Mohan Tagore (1840-1914). If this is indeed the case (even if hard to ascertain), the pioneering musicologist may have gifted it to a visiting dignitary (Erzherzog Franz-Ferdinands von Österreich), as he did with numerous other instruments. This particular one is now being described as Göttinger Tagore-Tambura.
Die derzeit bekannten Parallelstücke lassen eine Provenienz entweder aus den Instrumentenschenkungen des bengalischen Musikwissenschaftlers Raja Sir Sourindro Mohan Tagore (1840-1914) an europäische Museen und Privatleute oder vom Indienaufenthalt Erzherzog Franz-Ferdinands von Österreich-Este im Jahre 1893 (briefl. Mitteilung vom 26. 9. 1986 von Dr. Alfred Janata zur Herkunft des Wiener Exemplars) vermuten, was jedoch ebenfalls auf eine Verbindung zu Tagore hindeutet, da Erzherzog Franz-Ferdinand während seiner Reise bei diesem zu Gast war (cf. HÖFER 2010: 51).
practice Rūpaka tāla (3 counts) while listening to Sreevidhya Chandramouli’s singing; to get prepared follow this exercise: audio track 4 in Practice four widely used Carnatic talas >>
Raga, Tala and Pedagogy: On the First Steps in Carnatic Music by Jeremy Woodruff
The system by which any music is taught is the key to what is preserved, and how, in a musical tradition. I chose to research the basics of instruction in South India,both as an entry point for some practical knowledge on the South Indian flute, and as away of examining basic tenets of karnatic music. Using advanced knowledge of a foreign music without having prior knowledge of its basic pedagogy is a bit like attempting to build a chair without a seat for one’s backside. Only by studying the basic assumptions of the music, may we identify what techniques are useful to us, or not, because only then we carefully consider for what they were originally intended. […]
All melodic instrumental training in karnatic music is focused on reproducing subtleties of vocal performance. As imitating singers was the main way that instrumentalists from the time of ‘the Trinity’ updated, preserved and greatly enriched what is now known as karnatic music, it is natural that it is considered the greatest means to accomplishment in instrumental training. Where schools mainly disagree is on how (and how far) these vocal subtleties should be imitated. […]
Gitas are the first pieces to be learned after the rigorous basic exercises outlined above. The Gita, ‘Sri Gananatha’ is the first of these Gitas to be learned by any student. Maybe it is the ‘Für Elise,’ or ‘Minuet in G’ by Bach of karnatic music. It is therefore a special case, but it can still serve well as a concrete demonstration of how gamakas of a single raga, on a single song can differ radically from teacher to teacher. The gita is given in fig 2.1 in Indian notation.
[Bold typeface added above for emphasis]
Read the full paper A Western composer’s view of early music education in Carnatic music on Academia.edu >>
