Unlike the West where pubs and accessible local venues often host a slew of tribute bands ranging from the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Doors, ABBA and the Eagles to solo homage acts that fulfil the audience’s desire to experience again their icons in a live setting, tribute shows are not part of popular culture in India. Barring retro film music concerts that thrive on imitation and nostalgia, large-scale performances in memory of a classical and crossover artiste are quite unheard of. The Great MANdolin concert was rare in that sense. It had an enviable roster of 18 musicians with one thought — celebrating sound that is minimalist, intense and theatrical. It was a collective of diverse instruments and robust voices with a singular purpose — pushing the boundaries further. It strung together music lovers with a deeply personal connect to the mandolin’s emotive notes. It put together experimentalists, who shared Shrinivas’ creative vision, on the same platform.
Carnatic vocalist Aruna Sairam and pianist Anil Srinivasan set the cross-genre pace for the evening with a composition that juxtaposed a pasuram and an abhang. In her rich, soaring rendition, Aruna reiterated that music can be perceived beyond language and form. As the sophisticated keys of the piano met the rousing spirit of devotional poetry, the audience clapped to the ‘Vittala, Vittala’ chants. While unique musical pairings lent a fresh dimension to the performance, for the traditional touch ghatam support was offered by S.V. Ramani and on the mridangam was J. Vaidyanathan.
Shrinivas’ ability to spring surprises on his strings came through in the show when aces in film and semi-classical singing Hariharan, Shankar Mahadevan and Karthik went on a brisk swara trail. Not one to be left behind, the ‘Bheege hoth tere’ fame crooner, Kunal Ganjawala came up with a bhajan. And whatever be the character of the composition, U. Rajesh let the mandolin echo through the evening with his inspired playing. “Please excuse me for any flaws because performing amid such legends feels like entering the Mahabharata battleground,” he said. The four-hour-long concert, organised by SS International Live, also stood out for its impeccable stage decor.
Legendary composer Ilaiyaraaja, who gave away the awards instituted by the Shrinivas Institute of World Music, to Vikku Vinayakram and Harmeet, regretted that the whizkid’s desire to work on a symphony track with him remains unfulfilled. “I was even planning to use the mandolin score as background music in a film. We need him and he will be born again,” he said to loud cheers.
Just then the lush, swooping harmony of a mandolin track recorded by Shrinivas a few months before he passed away filled the hall and hearts. With his ardent disciple and film music composer Devi Sri Prasad punctuating the spaces with sensitive musical arrangement, it left many teary-eyed. So was the well put-together audio-visual by Bangalore-based Bharati, a Shrinivas admirer, which showed through a glowing oval pattern on the screen how a flicker of light grew in stature into a shining star but dimmed very fast.
In a career of some 35 years, Shrinivas worked comfortably in different settings, on his own and many a time as part of a team led by illustrious musicians from across the world. But his sound was firmly entrenched in Indianness, and it was from this essence that the tribute drew magnificently.
“I first saw him at a festival in Berlin; he was a very young boy. Much of his appeal comes not from his exemplary musicianship but his individual qualities that were worth-emulating,” said santoor exponent Shivkumar Sharma, who flew in from Jammu to be part of this memoriam. “I refuse to refer to him as the ‘late Shrinivas’ because he lives on,” he added, before launching into a crisp and stylistically fluid piece in Mishra Kafi. After the veteran struck a sombre note, the show turned into a sort of crash course in collaborative performance.
The ustad of rhythm, Zakir Hussain, who as usual indulged in some humorous asides, announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, meet the young and up-and-coming talent Thetakudi Harihara Vinayakram Vikku,” as the 72-year-old ghatam maestro walked on to the stage amidst peals of laughter to demonstrate his power-play on the mud pot.
As Zakir launched into a hearty, blunt-force drama on the small perimeter of the tabla, this much-hailed man behind multi-genre global ensembles was backed by Sivamani’s quirky beats, drummer Ranjit Barot’s expressive strokes, Selva Ganesh’s pulsating thumps on the kanjira, Harmeet’s piano notes with softened edges, Umashankar’s vigorous knocks on the ghatam and Stephen Devassy’s refreshing and mature touches on the keyboard.
The group hit warped speed with a slightly clichéd and noisy fusion, but soon returned to its improvisational self, scaling the crescendo along with the vocalists, even as hopefulness welled up amid despair.
