THE SAXOPHONE and clarinet are recent entrants to the stable of woodwinds in Indian music. A minuscule number of students take them up. Fewer
still opt for the nadaswaram, giving rise to apprehensions that
the ancient instrument could soon go into near oblivion like the north Indian sarangi.
The nadaswaram has never been a mainstream
concert instrument, and many see it only as an appendage to temple and
marriage rituals. Most nadaswaram exponents hail from the barber
community, and a hierarchy-conscious society has turned a blind eye to
their artistry. The slow but steady neglect of
this magnificent instrument could mean that it will no longer produce,
as it did in the last century, greats of the stature of Rajarathnam
Pillai.
Recent name
Nadaswaram is the most recent name given to the long pipe earlier known as nagaswaram and olaga (or valaga). In Kannada, olaga means
an august assembly, and S Krishna Murthy, music director and keen
observer of the classical music scene, feels the instrument could have
acquired that name because it was played regularly at palace
gatherings. The nadaswaram's sound is best heard in open
spaces, which is why it has evolved into a procession instrument. No
temple procession is complete without a nadaswaram ensemble. The
traditional ensemble comprises two nadaswaram players, two dolu
(thavil) players, and two shruti accompanists (one on a nadaswaram and
the other on what is called a shruti pettige, a harmonium-like
instrument that is used to provide the drone).
The nadaswaram's loud sound has worked to its
disadvantage in modern times where open space is a luxury. Students
cannot learn the instrument in privacy: the instrument announces itself
to a radius of at least half a dozen streets.
The nadaswaram came on to the concert stage in
the middle of the 20th century, but sabha encouragement has not
been consistent. It is not an easy instrument to play. It calls for a
good deal of lung power, and the brave ones who pursue it are
unhappy about the wall of neglect they come up against. At weddings,
they play to a noisy crowd rather than a appreciative, music-aware
audience. While wedding assignments bring in much needed money, they
are no substitute for the real concert experience. And lavish wedding
spenders are not necessarily good paymasters when it comes to dealing
with musicians.
Many upper caste vidwans in Mysore, says
Krishna Murthy, would secretly walk in temple processions just to hear
the nadaswaram. "They thought it was beneath their dignity to listen to
music being played by lower caste musicians," he recalls. "But
their hearts knew the value of what they were hearing."
Using the mute
B. Ramadasappa and Kodandaramaiah are
Bangalore's best-known nadaswaram artistes. Ramadasappa has attempted
to recast the instrument: he uses a mute to lower his instrument's
volume, and plays with tambura and violin accompaniment. Kodandaramaiah
has remained true to tradition. Musicologists say some of the greatest
Carnatic musicians of our times — GNB, Semmangudi and Lalgudi — have
consciously absorbed the best elements of nadaswaram playing. Although
its influence on vocal and instrumental music is undeniable, the
nadaswaram is still struggling to win the respect it truly deserves.