'Purified' Carnatic Music and Impure People----Mythri P U -Article in "Ecconomical and Political Weekly" July 2015---FIRST ISSUE
'Purified' Carnatic Music and Impure People
Contemporary Debates
Carnatic music preserves its classical identity not only through its musicality, but also by carefully creating and enforcing codes of conduct based on caste, gender, culture, aesthetics, and attire for both artistes and connoisseurs. This article attempts to bring to the fore some contemporary discussions on concepts of purity in Carnatic music and argues that these influence how "traditionalists" engage with those who argue for the democratisation of music. These debates throw light on the ideologically embedded musical concepts and criteria set by its guardians to represent the images of Carnatic music.
“Purity” and “divinity” are two concepts that appear every time when the question of democratisation, inclusion, and elaboration of Carnatic music comes up for discussions. The debate on the “Guesswho” graffiti in Fort Cochin on the eve of the Kochi-Muziris Biennale and the discussions in context of the recent Chennai Margazhi music season throw light on the reasons these concepts pop up every now and then. The debate has once again brought to the fore the ideological base of enthusiasts and connoisseurs of Carnatic music and their understanding of the notion of inclusiveness.
The terrain of classical music in South India is a complex space shaped by institutions of caste, religion, gender, and culture. The “purity” and “divinity” debate has to be seen in the context of interplay of these ideologies and their role in formulating the current structure of practice of music.
A graffiti—figures with bodies of the Carnatic music trinity Tyagaraja, Muthuswami Deekshithar, and Shyama Sasthry and heads of Jimmy Hendrix, Bob Marley, and Michael Jackson—has elicited debates in online platforms like social networking sites and the comments section of newspapers. Many consider this artwork as the height of absurdity because the heads on the graffiti represent the “black music” of a bunch of “toxic maniacs” while the bodies represent the grand “divine” music of nobles withsattva guna (purity). 1
Saintliness and Humiliation
Why are representations such as the GuessWho graffiti seen as humiliating the classicism of Carnatic music? Opinions raised in this context represent not just efforts to preserve the saintliness of the trinity, but also set forth criteria of eligibility to represent symbols of Carnatic music. Carnatic music being a genre with bhakti as its basic philosophy, many believe that only the triumvirate’s works provide the path through which one can feel the supreme soul and, thus, attain salvation. The philosophical pillars of Carnatic music are built on this concept of “purity,” and the Guesswho graffiti has shaken these pillars by touching the triumvirates who concretised the “lifeline” of Carnatic music.
The Margazhi music season has been criticised by the young musician T M Krishna, who sees the Sabha performances in Chennai during the season as “the most restrictive festival in the world” (Ramanan 2014), where caste plays a decisive role. In an attempt to break stereotypes and celebrate music without boundaries, Krishna organised a music and dance festival, “Urur–Olcott Margazhi Vizha,” in a Chennai coastal village inhabited mainly by the Pattinavar caste—a caste deemed lower in social hierarchy. Krishna points out that Carnatic music is suffering aesthetically and there is a need for critical thinking. Reactions to his criticism have ranged from plain denial of presence of caste in the practice of music, to accusing critics, including Krishna, of “polluting” music.
Arguments denying the prevalence of caste in Carnatic music seem innocent at first glance. It has been argued that there is no restriction on people from lower castes and religions other than Hinduism to learn and sing Carnatic music. But actually Carnatic music is the best example of an institution that contains all nuances and discriminations of the caste system in contemporary times. Social obstruction denies people of lower caste and people from religions other than Hinduism entry to the mainstream, not only as performers, but also as listeners and organisers. The question of who can be a rasika(connoisseur) is important here because the listener needs to have minimum awareness of the technicalities to understand the music in its full sense, and such understanding should be the basis for responses to Carnatic music—like most of the other classical art forms.
Elitism and Brahminism did not open up windows for the lower-class and lower-caste people to enter as students in large numbers at any stage in history. This absence led to limiting the aesthetic expressions of Carnatic music. It has prevented Carnatic music from attaining a universal character and connecting it with every section of society. Names of renowned performers like M S Subbulakshmi, K J Yesudas and Rajarathinam Pillai, from other castes, and John Higgins, from another culture, are often thrown up as examples of the inclusive nature of Carnatic music. But, they are a microscopic minority and cannot be considered as examples of the open-handedness of patrons and indicators of social change. It is also important to note that these people did not try to challenge the ideological ground of the music. Instead, they gradually synchronised with the system. In fact, M S Subbulakshmi incorporated herself into the established aesthetic sense of an “ideal Tamil Brahmin woman” and became a strong model for it. All the other performers too adopted and conformed to traditional aesthetic senses and patterns. In fact, they contributed to the strengthening of the purity structure of the system by siding with it and even justifying it openly.
What Is Music?
The debates on the Guesswho grafitti make it clear that Carnatic music subsists as an institution with deeply implanted propositions. Contemporary debates on its musicality like “what is music,” “what should be music,” “what is the way of practising it,” and “what is the ultimate aim of music” are the results of the same propositions. Since the past century, Carnatic music has maintained its authenticity as a “classical” genre not only in its musicality, depth, richness, and perfection of lyrical content and notes, but also in the careful depiction of the images of its allied aspects. Even though there is no rule to define and follow the classicism of Carnatic music, it has generated a set of generally accepted and recognised “images” (attire of the singer, Brahmin aesthetics, nature of audiences, etc) as norms associated with singing and listening.
Such ideology crystallised in the beginning of the 20th century, considered as the modernisation2period of classical music in South India (Subramanian 2006), which to a large extent succeeded in placing Hindu religion’s purity, bhakti, and divinity as the fundamental characteristics of Carnatic music. With its close alignment with religion, Carnatic music was moulded in a new crucible to make it a symbol of cultural revivalism—amongst the major characteristics of the Indian national movement. The religion-based understanding of the past, around which the modernisation process in music got momentum in the urban landscape was instrumental in preventing any dilution of the carefully drawn images of tradition—considered as “pure.” Apart from challenging Western cultural dominance, the new custodians began to exclude and include some elements in Carnatic music in order to make it perfectly classical. This process was completed with the elimination of impure elements based on caste and gender.
Respectable Women Singers
One of the most important acts of cleansing in the realm of Carnatic music is associated with woman performers. The representation of the Carnatic female singer was standardised and the norms in vogue today were established during the modernisation period. “Particular notions of female respectability and ideal womanhood were central to the project of defining middle class identity, modernity, and the aims of colonial nationalism” (Weidman 2003: 194). At this historical juncture, hereditary practitioners like devadasis were denied opportunities and delegitimised as mere prostitutes, paving the way for the entry of upper-caste females to the “purified” space of music (Weidman 2003). The only exception was the much celebrated “queen of music” M S Subbulakshmi, respectfully called MS Amma, a half devadasi. The aura created by MS3 through her powerful and devotional rendering has placed her at the apex of Carnatic music.
In 2013, news broke out that director Rajiv Menon planned to make a biopic on the legendary singer. It was also reported that National Award Winner Vidya Balan is going to act as MS (Narayan 2013). The Hindu Makkal Katchi (HMK) raised its voice against casting Vidya Balan, who enacted the role of South Indian erotic actress Silk Smitha in the movie, The Dirty Picture.4 The ideological ground here is based on the understanding that even memories and contemporary visualisations should be free from impure elements like sexuality—which were completely eradicated once.
The modernisation period also established the concept of ideal womanhood through female singers and the way they appear on the stage. The basic idea about a female singer is widely depicted and legitimised through carefully created images of a woman wearing a silk sari, jasmine flowers, diamond encrusted gold jewellery, and sindoor on her forehead. MS’s attire is considered to be the finest example of this. Some singers came under criticism for the way they presented themselves, and for not being sober on stage (Krishnamurthi 2013). The idea behind the imposition of such an image is that in order to enhance the purity of divine Carnatic music, the singer should be the embodiment of bhakti and should perform it with dedication, on the one hand, and modest self-expression, on the other. What is noteworthy here is that the internalised perspectives of the singers’ identity is a combination of appearance and singing, which is embedded in the “purity” concept more than anything else.
The Caste of Music
Emmanuel Pedler’s (1999: 223) question of whether “the cult of classicism contribute[s] to the seeming symbolic inaccessibility of recent cultural products” is important in more than one way in understanding how “exclusiveness” is produced in Carnatic music. The rigorous practice of caste has been instrumental in rendering Carnatic music inaccessible to large sections of the society. The systematic denial of opportunities to these sections to learn, to listen, appreciate, and contribute, has ensured that musical standards were characterised and elaborated by the understanding and practice of the culture of a minority. The idea of “impurity” based on caste is embedded in the practice of music and it is very evident in the lyrics itself. The kirtana Duduku gala, one of Tyagaraja’s Pancharathna Kirtanas(five gems of Carnatic music),5 clearly explains how caste played the role of an “agent of pollution” in the imagination of “pure” life and the “purity” of paratactic music.
Charanam 6Being a fool I taught dancers and womanisers,low life types, as well as the weaker sex[.]Charanam 9[B]orn to the highest of castes, I busied myselfdoing the deeds of aśūdra; I kept companywith people of bad character,and I further went astray following phoney religions.[translation taken from William J Jackson (1991: 198–99)].
The idea of a pure man has been depicted as someone who keeps oneself away from women and the lower castes; and, most importantly, as someone who should be born a Brahmin. Such injection of caste ideology in the lyrics of a much-celebrated composition was an attempt to demark the space of music on caste lines and assert claims on music and its practice.
Conclusions
Art is an essential element in the creation of “high culture” and “cultural capital” of an individual or a group. “High culture” among the South Indians is framed and moulded within upper-caste male sensibilities. Music’s “purity” and “divinity” is debated around this “high culture.” This helps us understand the sharp criticism of the “Guesswho” graffiti by enthusiasts and connoisseurs of Carnatic music. Jimmy Hendrix, Bob Marley, and Michael Jackson are marked as being “less than” human in their respective societies. They used music to voice the protest of the oppressed and stood for equality and freedom. They have also challenged the upper-class aesthetics and “high culture,” and were often instrumental in creating alternative imaginations of “culture.” The act of placing the head of these musical artistes on the bodies of the trinity of Carnatic music not only challenges purified high culture, but also questions the basis of the social hierarchy. “Purity” and “divinity” are two powerful tools used by the custodians of this high culture to protect and legitimise their interests and positions in music.
Notes
1 Right after singer T M Krishna posted the graffiti on his Facebook page, opinions were mobilised against him by stating that he should follow the tradition. The online discussion is available at:https://www.facebook.com/tmkrishna/photos/a.10150632631125816.413721.466..., viewed on 11 May 2015.
2 The term “modernisation” witnessed the attempts to revive the lost glorious past of Carnatic music by emphasising on its pure and spiritual elements in a more unified way. The movement was patronised by the elite Brahmin male intellectuals of the colonial Madras Presidency, and they skilfully reframed it and placed it as the major stream of the growing Nationalist movement in Madras Presidency. As Lakshmi Subramanian (2006) noted, in this process they have transmitted the custodianship of music from feudal lords to sabhas, the exclusive spaces of Brahmins. Changes in the ambience of concert chambers and the nature of rasikas, reshufflings in the kutchery sambradaya (concert pattern), presentation and attire of female singers, style of presentation, along with the adaptation of amplification made substantial alteration in the presentation of music.
3 The careful negation of MS’s devadasi identity and making her a shadow of MS’s Brahmin husband was another interesting process that took place to have her fit in the “purified” imaginations.
4 HMK leader Kumar said that “M S Subbulakshmi amma is a genius in Carnatic music and is still held as a role model for many aspiring and budding singers.” This argument is pointing towards how careful these traditionalist groups are in maintaining images of artistes and the music.
5 Pancharathna Kirtanas are often used for mass singing in music festivals. It has a very special place in the festivals.
References
Jackson, William J (1991): Tyagaraja: Life and Lyrics, New Delhi: Oxford University Press.
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Narayan, S (2013): “Can Vidya Balan Do an M S Subbulakshmi,” Livemint, 23 February, viewed on 23 February 2013, http://www.livemint.com/Leisure/vOMuEw8LqKDkqV5oyN9NIK/Can-Vidya-Balan-d...
Pedler, E (1999): “The Systematic Refusal of Modern Music and the Cult of Classicism,” Leonardo, Vol 32, No 3, pp 223–25.
Ramanan, Sumana (2014): “How Caste Plays a Role in India’s Biggest Classical Music Festival,” Wall Street Journal India, 18 December, viewed on 5 May 2015,http://blogs.wsj.com/indiarealtime/2014/12/18/caste-and-indias-biggest-c...
Subramanian, Lakshmi (2006): From the Tanjore Court to the Madras Music Academy: A Social History of Music in South India, New Delhi: Oxford University Press.
Weidman, Amanda (2003): “Gender and the Politics of Voice: Colonial Modernity and Classical Music in South India,” Cultural Anthropology, Vol 18, No 2, pp 194–232.