The Ananda in his Music-MDR

First Published in The Sunday Times of India under Spectrum in Review on April 26 1992

The ‘Ananda’ In His Music…

With almost 300 compositions to his credit, M.D. Ramanathan was a musician compleat. He was a creator and sole exponent of a ‘bani’, which came to be known as the M.D.R. ‘bani’.

One cannot speak of M.D. Ramanathan, the maverick Carnatic musician and not feel a fierce sense of protective loyalty towards him. An M.D.R. fan anticipates even the mildest criticism, with hackles raised and claws unsheathed to counter it. M.D.R. was traditional and orthodox in musicianship, yet he blazed a new trail which was avant-garde in his lifetime.

M.D.R. was born in 1923, as the only son of Devesha Bhagavathar in a picturesque little hamlet in Kerala, called Manjapara. Even while he learned music from his father, Raamanathan graduated with a bachelor’s degree in physics from Victoria College in nearby Palakkad.

The city of Chennai is the Vienna of India, though the Cooum canal is no Danube! A classical musician or dancer must strike roots here if he or she has serious ambitions about making it good in the profession. The young Ramanathan’s destiny took him to Rukmini Devi’s Kalakshetra, where the Principal was the “Tiger” of Carnatic music, Varadachariar. A close bond of affection developed between Tiger and cub. M.D.R.’s dedication to the master and his music set him on the path to glory.

M.D.R.’s music was rich, soul-searching and serene. When he sang, our hearts sang with him. If he sang of Vishnu reclining on the ocean of milk in the swaying grandeur of Devagandhari, we experienced the gentle turbulence of the waves. If the composer Tyagaraja questioned himself in ‘Mokshamugalada?’ will I ever attain moksha? M.D.R. aimed the query at you sitting in the audience and left you introspecting.

M.D.R.’s voice, while rich in texture and sonorously bass,  was more effective in the lower octaves. His detractors pointed out that he not only lacked in range, but also in speed, which is an essential prerequisite for breaking the monotony of a three-hour concert. His gesticulations which endeared him to his admirers were ridiculed by hostile critics. R.G.K. an eminent columnist once wrote, ‘M.D.R.’s wild and grotesque gesticulations are not entirely irrelevant to his art. In fact, ‘facing the music’ of Ramanathan is as important as listening to it. ’

Understanding his gestures helps you to understand his singing.’ R.G.K., who greatly valued the ‘oceanic feeling” or ananda that one experiences while listening to M.D.R.,  feels that it was a very special quality which is something inexpressible joy, tinged with sadness, a kind of  divine restlessness.

An inspired composer of about 300 compositions, ‘Varada dasan’, M.D. Ramanathan was a musician compleat. He established a bani (gharana), which came to be known as the M.D.R. bani, of which he was the sole exponent. He was inimitable. What his students imbibed from him was exploration of the nuances of ragas, a feel for the language and total involvement in its exposition.

It is exasperating then, to think that a simple scholar like M.D. Ramanathan, with his guileless nature, was a victim of neglect by the powers that be. He received the Padma Shri in 1974 and the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award in 1975. No other recognition came his way, till he passed away on April 27^th, 1984. Even the omnipotent Music Academy of Chennai whose title ‘Sangeeta Kalanidhi’ is most coveted by Carnatic musicians, narrowly missed conferring it on M.D.R.

It is in this context, that it came as welcome surprise that a young filmmaker, Soudhamini, ventured to direct a film, inspired by the music of M.D.R. ‘Pitruchaya’ translated as ‘Shadows Of Our Forefathers,’ was the culmination of a long-cherished and deep-seated desire which no Indian sponsor would touch with a greenback. Her dream was eventually sponsored by a German television company.

Working without a script, Soudhamini has used M.D.R.’s music lavishly, literally allowing her thoughts and impulses to be led on by the selected musical extracts. There is pathos in the film just as it was there in his music and in his life. The camera strays nostalgically into empty classrooms in Kalakshetra and the bare rooms of his home, as if reaching out to his spirit in those hallowed spaces. The sense of loss is acute.

Note: A wonderful human being and legendary musician with whom I was associated as student at Kalakshetra. The classes were great fun as he used his unique voice and quirky sense of humour to regale us with anecdotes and meaning of the lyrics. I continued to extend this relationship further after marriage because my husband R.Raman (Babu) was a great fan and could imitate his style of singing so accurately that MDR himself  gave him credit. He has  a special place in our hearts and his admirers are a close knit circle of this cult musician.