How violinists Ranjani and Gayatri turned vocalists at Tiruvaiyaru

Ranjani and Gayatri performing the inaugural concert at the 176th Tyagaraja Aradhana in Tiruvaiyaru
| Photo Credit: Courtesy: Ranjani & Gayatri

If there is one place that brings almost every Carnatic musician together, it has to be the Tyagaraja Aradhana at Tiruvaiyaru. The week leading up to Bahula Panchami, Tyagaraja Swami’s  punya thithi, sees an influx of devotees, music lovers and musicians, all seeking to immerse themselves in the inexhaustible ocean of joy and musical bliss.

Over the past decade or more, we have been regularly singing at the Aradhana. Our first formal performance here was alongside Mandolin Shrinivas, and both our concerts were broadcast live by All India Radio and Doordarshan. We have often sung at the inauguration of the festival. Despite the presence of security personnel and people around the stage, there is a perceptible shift in our inner consciousness once we start singing. Beyond the din and distraction, the eyes seek the  sannidhi that is right in front of us, the mind and heart effortlessly moving away from the external world into the spirit of bhakti and the inexpressible musical richness of the Saint’s compositions. What makes that moment of transition so effortless? Is it the magic of the compositions? Is it the sacred air of Tiruvaiyaru? Is it the water of the Cauvery on whose banks Tyagaraja lived and sang? Or, is it the gratitude and reverence towards one of the greatest and most inspirational composers ever?

As we sang the inaugural concert this year, the mind went back to our first Aradhana performance in January 1994. We were violinists then, not sure of whether we would even get a slot to offer our musical homage. Hesitant to approach the organisers, we played a song at the  sannidhi of Tyagaraja Swami. As we sat in the pandal, listening to some of the concerts, came an unexpected offer from one of the organisers — there was a slot available in case we wanted to sing. Thus came about our very first performance at the Aradhana, a vocal recital when we were full-time violinists. We sang ‘Ela nee daya raadu’ in Atana, a composition that remains closest to our hearts. We did not realise it then, but, perhaps, this was the Saint’s way of foretelling the future course of our musical journey — from violinists to vocalists.

Tyagaraja has the darshan of Sri Rama, Sita, Lakshmana and Hanuman while he composes a kriti
| Photo Credit:
Illustration: Keshav

Traditional pattern

There is a practice that no kalpanaswaras are rendered at the Aradhana concerts, may be with a reason to highlight the bhakti bhava of the musical offering and to avoid excessive ornamentation. But the gripping power of the composition and the flow of climaxing sangathis are such that they need nothing more to complete it. Lines such as ‘Hitavu maatalento’, ‘Prema joochi naapai’, ‘Kaveri theramunanu’, and ‘Bhooloka Vaikuntam’ offer tremendous scope for niraval and creative expression. These bring a sense of fullness to the music that reaches a high point even without kalpanaswaras.

Every composition of Tyagaraja remains to us and to many others, the most definitive expression of the raga, and the most inspiring and powerful image of the Raga Devatha. Among the several compositions, how does one pick a few? The mind goes over to the songs we have sung in Tiruvaiyaru during the Aradhana — ‘Raksha bettare’ in Bhairavi, ‘Amma ravamma’ in Kalyani, ‘Evarimaata’ in Kambhoji, ‘Inta sowkhya’ in Kapi, ‘Rajuvedale’ in Thodi, ‘Chalakallalaadu’ in Arabhi, ‘Hecharika garara’ in Yadukulakamboji, ‘Neeke daya raka’ in Nilambari, and a few days ago, ‘Ninnuvina’ in Navarasakannada and ‘Evasudha’ in Sahana.

Each and every kriti contains a complete universe of the raga — majestic, playful, sprightly and evocative. But they are all suffused with bhakti. It is this emotion that to us is the defining purpose of Carnatic music.

The writers are well-known Carnatic vocalists.