M.B. Hariharan and S. Ashok accompanied by D. Badrinarayanan (violin), .R. Sundaresan (mridangam) and Trichy K. Murali (ghatam).
| Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Bangalore brothers, M.B. Hariharan and S. Ashok, structured their concert with a string of sprightly items leading to the piece de resistance that sounded contrastingly unhurried and contemplative. The swarajati in weighty Thodi, thus, guaranteed surplus solemnity. The brothers (close friends and not siblings) rarely resorted to formal signs of complimenting each other, but their two-and-a-half-hour concert at Mudhra displayed exemplary symbiosis evolved through singing together for over a decade.
Syama Sastri’s ‘Rave Himagirikumari’ occupied the centrestage, with the junior vocalist rendering its alapana. That vital role marked a departure from what had hitherto been a Hariharan-led kutcheri. Ashok’s ta-da-ra-na passages brimmed with brigas and gamakas, ensuring sumptuousness to the solo exercise, despite its relatively shorter duration (just a little more than seven minutes). The musician’s voice has a soothing nasal touch even when he plumbs the lower portions of any melody. Plus, he is more impulsive in imaginations — unlike a more measured Hariharan. On the violin, D. Badrinarayanan coursed tunefully along the classical routes of Thodi. At the top register, the alapana generated an off-key squeak. That apart, he demonstrated reasonably strong tonal mastery over the instrument.
The brothers were a tad speedier than usual with their chief showpiece. Yet the grandeur was nowhere lost; in fact, the brisk stretches along the end part of the niraval (around ‘Kalyani Kanchi Kamakshi’) were particularly shiny. Ashok wound it up to embark on an equally neat swaraprastara that featured a kaleidoscopic shuffling of the notes. Capping the hour-long opus was a mature adi-tala tani avartanam by T.R. Sundaresan (mridangam) and Trichy K. Murali (ghatam).
Bangalore Brothers M.B. Hariharan and S. Ashok.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement
The Thodi package’s predominant reposefulness juxtaposed well with the first half of the presentation. The opening ‘Chalamela’ varnam (Thiruvottiyur Thyagayyar) reveled in the sprightliness of Durbar, also proving the pair’s ease in foraying upward and the percussionists capacity to happily join the festivities. The springy Nattai was the next choice of raga, where restrained fireworks lit up the swaraprastara of ‘Parameswara Jagadeesa’ (Muthuswami Dikshitar). Tyagaraja’s ‘Pariyachakama’ in Vanaspathi, subsequently, was balmy.
Earlier, Hariharan’s brief sketch of Nattai saw the opening phrase rest on a descending slide, which Badrinarayanan momentarily mistook for Devagandhari. This derivative of Sankarabharanam was what, incidentally, came as the fourth suite. Both the vocalist and violinist laced their alapana with suggestions of an impending ‘Ksheerasagara shayana’, but the kriti was ‘Sri Tulasamma’ (by Tyagaraja, nonetheless). The seven-beat Mishra Chapu debuted when the duo next rendered ‘Sri matrubhutam’, highlighting the beauty of Kannada with a perky swaraprastara that studded the Dikshitar composition. Periyasami Thooran’s ‘Thaye tripurasundari’ (Suddhasaveri) was the lone number set to Khanda Chapu.
Post the 18-minute tani avartanam came a Krishna-invoking shloka in Kapi, followed by ‘Enna thavam’ (Papanasam Sivan). If Dikshitar’s Sankarabharanam nottuswaram ‘Anjaneya sada’ had its western flair, plain notes defined the ensuing ‘Acharavillada nalige’ (Purandaradasa) in Kalyani as well. A cheerful Nattakurinji (‘Manava nillisuvudu’) gave way to the mangalam (‘Indina dinave’) in serene Surutti.
