K.V. Narayanaswamy

by Dr. Narayana Menon
(1986)

This is not a properly conceived essay on the life and achievement of the Sangeeta-Kalanidhi-elect Shri Narayanaswamy. When the President of the Academy asked me for an article on him I reluctantly agreed. Reluctantly, because I did not have the time to think, plan out and draw a portrait of one who, I personally think is the finest exponent of the Karnataka Sampradaya today and deserves serious critical assessment. The President won and I gave in, only because of my affection for Narayanaswamy, the "gentle perfect knight" of Carnatic music, a phrase from Chaucer, the great medieval English poet.

I met Narayanaswamy and heard him sing for the first time in unusual circumstances. Some forty years ago, just after my return to India after a long stay in the United Kingdom, I heard that Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar was giving a recital in Delhi and, of course, I went. It was a magnificent programme. Ariyakudi was at his resplendent best -- mature, balanced poised as a master at the peak of his career. I had not heard him for fourteen years and was anxious to see him. So the next morning I called on him —in a room at the old Constitution Club, if my memory is correct. As I was about to leave, he said to me: "I want you to meet some one a very promising boy, hardly a man." He called the young man who was waiting outside. It was Narayanaswamy. He looked ridiculously young -- shy, quiet, soft-spoken, almost self-effacing. Ariyakudi asked him to step inside and said: "Sit down and sing an Urupadi." Forty years is a long time to remember such occasions but I do remember one thing --— Narayanaswamy sang Endaro Mahanubhavulu. No accompaniment, not even a tambura. The moment he started he was no longer the shy, introspective, self- effacing youngster. He sang with complete confidence. His voice and his singing had, undoubtedly, the stamp of his teacher. It was very much his master's voice. Yet there was a touch Of his own. The tempo was a shade slower. The uccharana, the bhava, the sahitya were those of a young man in search of perfection. I shall not forget those few minutes -- a young man in search of the Karnataka Sampradaya with the guru happy, contended with his own "creation" as it were, but refusing to show it in front of the sishya. "Encourage him if you can", Ariyakudi told me. "He needs help and guidance." How could I help him or guide him? How could I even encourage him when he was Madras based and "wedded" to his guru twenty-four hours of the day?

I gave Ariyakudi the usual polite assurance. Thinking over that morning, I began to realize that Narayanaswamy's approach to music was serious. It was not a struggle to get the odd applause at his recitals or an effort to get more programmes, or for higher fees. These things all musicians need, we all need, particularly when you have, as they say in the South, daughters to "marry off", boys to be educated and older members of the family to be looked after. But one felt that his aim in life was to fulfil himself as a musician and he has succeeded in a large measure. He worked for it steadily, piecemeal, stressing values which we often take for granted: sruti suddha, kalapramana, a controlled refined voice. As for his tala, it has a kind of metronomic precision. The late Palghat Mani Iyer was his mentor in this department.

His growth was not a meteoric rise to fame. It was slow, a long continued period of understanding oneself better, discovering and strengthening areas of his weakness, absorbing rare qualities and practices from every quarter and consolidating his own style, his own personality.

One of the earliest major programmes of his that I can remember to this day was in February 1955, some 32 years ago. How long ago it seems ! I had the pleasure of reviewing it for The Statesman and came across a copy of my review quite recently. Let me reproduce parts of it:

"The Statesman", New Delhi, February 17, 1955.

Vocal recital by K.V. Narayanaswamy in the Karnataka Sangeetha Sabha.

K.V. Narayanaswamy who is in Delhi in connection with the National Programme of All India Radio gave a recital last night at the Constitution Club under the auspices of the Karnataka Sangeetha Sabha.

Narayanaswamy is a pupil of the great Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar and he is a pupil that the master has reason to be proud of. There are many echoes of his master's voice in his singing. But whereas most clever pupils merely succeed in imitating the more superficial mannerisms of their teachers, Narayanaswamy's debt to his teacher (or his teacher's debt to him perhaps) goes much deeper. He has grasped the fundamentals of Ramanuja Iyengar's style; he has got the feel of his master's almost architectonic sense of proportion. His singing is, like his master's, the quintessence of Karnatic music. There are no unnecessary frills, no straining after-effects, no gymnastics. Everything is sound, controlled, logical, like an extension of the natural laws of music and of singing.

On top of all this, Narayanaswamy has virtues and qualities that any singer should be proud of. He has a good voice with a comfortable range, is always immaculately in "sur", a faculty that seems to be rapidly disappearing from Karnatic music. Even his great teacher is not altogether immune from this vice, impertinent and ungrateful though such a remark might sound. The concert opened with the Kanada ata-tala varnam. After the usual warming-up pieces (and they included the Arabhi kriti Sadhinchane) came three tried old favourites —in Pantuvarali, in Anandabhairavi and in Sankarabharanam. The Sankarabharanam was magnificent. There were moments in the niraval which would have done credit to any master. Then came a fine rendering of the Dikshitar kriti Sri Rangapuravihara in Brindavana-saranga. The Ragam, Thanam, Pallavi was in Todi. Todi is really the test for a Karnatic musician There are rare ragas, "vakra" ragas, complicated and difficult ragas. They can all be tackled with a measure of success, but Todi seems to throw out a challenge all the time. Narayanaswamy accepted the challenge with complete confidence and even grace. The Pallavi was in the nalu-kala triputa tala. There was not a hesitant phrase, not a single uncertain moment. It was a completely satisfying effort.

We are sure to hear a great deal of this young singer In the comparative void of really great singers, his talent seems to stand out. Its full development and its complete maturing are worth watching, and are also in the nature of responsibilities which Narayanaswamy owes to Karnatic music and, of course, to himself.

V.K. Venkataramanujam accompanied on the violin adequately. Narayanaswamy is not an easy singer to accompany. And Ramnad Eswaran on the mridanga was his usual assured self."

After reading my review of Narayanaswamy's concert a good, well-meaning decent musician said: "Sir, please remember, he is only a junior musician. I entirely agreed with him and said: "Junior in age, but very senior in music I know some who are senior in age but should be considered junior in music" and looked him straight in the face. He got my point and was silent. I felt sorry for hurting him.

Soon afterwards I moved to Madras as Director of the Madras Station of All India Radio and it gave me a chance of meeting and getting to know all the greats of Karnatic music at the time. Narayanaswamy was a regular visitor in our Edward-Elliot Road residence. My wife often watched him coming home. If he came walking, she would tell me that Narayanaswamy has not got a concert for a whole month to come." "How, how do you know that?" I asked "If he comes walking," she would say, "it means no concert in view; if he comes in a rikshaw, it means one or possibly two concerts in hand. If he comes in a taxi. it means three or four concerts!"

Those were hard days for a young musician who would not compromise, or make concessions to public taste, and who was a genius at missing the headlines. Palghat Mani Iyer used to say "the trouble is that he has no anavasiam. Every one should have a little anavasiam, but know that it is anavasiam" and use it sparingly, if only to wake a sleepy audience or keep them in their seats when the tani avartanam starts." Narayanaswamy has no anavasiam in music or in life. And Mani Iyer was happy that he had these weaknesses ! Narayanaswamy worshipped Mani Iyer, who was his second guru. 'You don't know how much I owe him," he would say to me. I did know, but I would not contradict him. His greatest debt to Mani Iyer was the fact that it was he who put Narayanaswamy in the safe and precious hands of Ramanuja Iyengar.

What were the other influences of his singing? When I listen to his niravals, my mind goes back to the late Musiri Subramania Iyer, the most satisfying exponent of niravals that I can think of. When I hear him sing a padam or a javali, I think of Jayamma. What a gem he makes of a simple piece like Aliveni! With what perfection does he sing this superb padavarna Sumasayaka in Kapi? In all these, it is not blind imitations of the sources, but intelligent interpretations of the originals within the framework of his own style and understanding, giving the music a special character.

I have memories of some fine interpretations a complete recording of Swati Tirunal’s navaratri kritis which took him a whole week in the studios of the NCPA. With what meticulous care and concentration he went about it ! The sahitya here is vital and the uccharana had to be perfect. This was done on a special request from the Maharani of Travancore. She was a great connoisseur of music and a perfectionist. She was uncompromising in demanding that the rendering, apart from the sahitya and the uccharana, should have the right accents, stresses and phrasing so as to communicate to the discerning listener the full meaning, significance, in short the raison d’être of a great work.

Another moving occasion was when he analysed the structure of a major pallavi and then sang it (with Palghat Raghu accompanying him) to a group of North Indian students. On another occasion he shared the platform with Jitendra Abhisheki in a programme of devotional music on Gandhiji's birthday, a deeply moving evening.

Recognition came slowly but steadily. In the early sixties he took up a teaching appointment at the College of Karnatic music. Teaching is an excellent way of learning. He travelled abroad both performing and teaching He has been a regular visitor to the Wesleyan University in the United States.

1976 was a good year for Narayanaswamy. He was the recipient of the Sangeet Natak Academy’s Award for Karnatic Vocal Music The same year the President of India conferred on him the Padma Shree. And now the ultimate recognition for a Karnatic musician — the title of Sangeetha Kalanidhi. Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar (the 1938 Sangeetha Kalanidhi), wherever his soul is, must be blessing him.