On a gray, rainy afternoon in May 2017, I gave a talk in New York about what the legendary musician M.S. Subbulakshmi means to the young musicians of today. Here is the transcript of that talk.
Good afternoon, and it’s such a pleasure being here today while the rain is pounding away outside. Sharing memories and talking about a legendary human being and musician, who I can safely say has left some sort of an impact on every one of us here : what better way can there be of spending an afternoon!
What is it that makes somebody a legend? We throw that word around so freely, but truly, just a handful of people genuinely deserve that label.
When you think about it, it is an amalgam of so many factors, some of which can be baffling, inexplicable, magical, mystical, as well as the downright obvious, regular, normal and expected.
Talent. Passion. Hard work. Personality. Packaging and marketing. Good luck. Connections. Money?? Charisma. That mysterious X-factor. And legacy. And some magical force that binds them all together.
There are people who were legends in their lifetime, but whose fame faded away with time; those who were unknown and un-lauded in their lifetimes, but gained fame later; and, the best of all worlds, those who made waves while alive, and continued to do so well after their lifetime.
Which will it be for MS? It has been 12 years (now 16) since her voice was stilled, and here we are, talking about her. When I think of her, her life, her music, her rise to fame and accomplishments, her image and legacy, I can’t help but think she would make the perfect case study for Harvard Business School. And I mean this in the best possible way.
I think all of us here have at least some notion about her background and life, where she came from and her remarkable journey from provincial Madurai to the most glittering of the world’s concert stages. And think about it. It’s truly amazing that this performer of Carnatic music, this music that a lamentably small segment of the world’s population is aware of, and that is enjoyed by an even tinier segment of the world’s population, has become a household name throughout India, and in many parts of the world. Today’s musicians, who are so social media savvy and spend so much of their energy on marketing and promotion, can learn a thing or two from her.
This is all very well, but really, MS’s legacy in the years ahead lies, in some part at least, in the hands of the young musicians of today, who will play a role in deciding what lives on, and what fades away.
So with this in mind, the organizers wanted me to address some specific questions.
* What is the influence of the music of MS on today's young musicians?
* What do these musicians think is her legacy for the future?
* What elements in her music do young musicians think will live on.
I have to say, I was a bit flattered initially. Me? A young musician??
I was quickly brought down to earth when I realized that the young musicians they had in mind were busy being....well, young musicians... and that I was to serve the role of communicator and intermediary......as well as provide my own insights.
So I exchanged emails, and spoke to, around half a dozen young musicians who are both in India and the United States. None of them have listened to MS’s music live; several were still school kids when she passed away. So she was not a part of their musical universe the way she was when I was growing up. They have never experienced the aura of a live MS concert which no youtube video, no CD, no description can ever convey. They have a whole new generation of musicians to look up to, admire, emulate, learn from, critique.
And yet - and completely unsurprisingly - they had all heard about her. They were, to the last person, more aware of her life story, her background, her best-known songs, than they were of many of her contemporaries like ML Vasanthakumari, DK Pattammal, Brinda, Muktha, Semmangudi, etc. I found this fascinating.
I think the best way to share what these musicians think about MS is to give you their thoughts in their own words. When I asked these youngsters about what they thought about MS and her musical legacy, I assured them that they would remain anonymous, so that they might be free and unrestrained in their comments. What I did not want was something along the lines of “she was a saint, she was the greatest ever”. I asked for something more introspective, more analytical, and they wowed me with their responses.
Once again, I want to stress that these are people who are steeped in Carnatic music, not mere hobbyists. So here goes. I will read out some selected passages from their responses, and then I will attempt to summarize my impressions of their impressions.
* * *
I have to say honestly, that I actually did not grow up listening to much of MS's music. I have only actually been exposed to her music sporadically within the last couple of years -- in fact, in the context of starting to take vocal lessons and hence needing to pay closer attention to vocal articulations and methods. Taking in her music as an adult -- she really sounded very different from what I had expected or imagined. She had a kind of raw style of vocalizing and directness of delivery that is no more to be found in the age of amplification. I noticed this particularly in a recording of MS singing Muthiah Bhagavathar's Kamas dharuvarnam "Maathe Malayadhwaja" -- the virtuosic fluidity of the brisk gamakas and the fast repetitions, the simple and understated way in which the word "Shyame" was rendered, the intense steadiness and clarity of her voice whenever she held a note. These are sounds we rarely hear in contemporary performance.
Nevertheless, I think it's interesting to consider MS, as a historical figure, in light of all the expectations we continue to project onto female performers in Karnatik music. My rough sense of this is that MS's music had several dimensions to it, only a portion of which were later branded and marketed for the national and international stages. Today, the same branding and marketing strategies persist (and are perhaps more pervasive), but they have unfortunately become the rubric within which many female singers and instrumentalists define their aesthetic identities and desires. So, if MS does indeed continue to figure in the "Karnatik imaginary" of the future, I hope that the full breadth and possibility of her music is incorporated -- that is, not just the image that has come to be so widely circulated and celebrated as a bastion of 'Tradition' and conventional Brahmin gender roles.
Here is another one:
I honestly don't know why MS Subbulakshmi is such a big deal--just that she is. I knew her name before I heard her sing, and I never had the pleasure of "discovering" a new artist.
In that way, MS reminds me of Shakespeare. I'd heard about him as being the greatest writer of all time before I'd read a word he'd written, so there was so much pressure on liking him when I finally encountered his plays in school. And even then, I could never distinguish early on whether I really did like him, or whether I was convincing myself that I liked him. It was only quite late that I felt confident that I had my own connection to Shakespeare, that I could speak about why I liked his plays genuinely.
In a culture that likes to worship heroes and heroines, where the pressure to admire the greats is especially palpable, it's harder to find the space to develop that personal relationship. It's harder to be someone, or find someone, courageous enough to genuinely ask, "Why actually do we care about this woman? And what is all this hype?" I haven't really read much into these things, but I do get the sense that the space is opening up slowly, with more people feeling comfortable talking about the fact that MS's background doesn't exactly fit the mold of the traditional, Tamil brahmin woman. I think the fact that MS, the icon of musical tradition, is non-traditional in surprising ways, is very cool, and I would like to see it become part of her legacy in a tradition that sometimes insists too much on purity.
Now, just a quick few words of explanation before I move forward. The word “bani” in the Carnatic music context is very roughly equivalent to the Hindustani gharana, or school, or style, of singing. It is always connected to an individual - a particular musician’s idiosyncrasies, or strengths, or even weaknesses, become part of his or her bani. It seems like the 1940s-1970s spawned most of the Carnatic banis that are mentioned to this day.
Back to the words of my young musician friend:
I would argue that her legacy is much more cultural than that of other musicians. We can point out a Semmangudi musical style, or GNB style, or even Brinda-Mukta style, but less often do we hear about an MS musical style, pure and simple. What we hear instead is MS's name connected to a color of sari; a specific timbre of voice that we can no longer dissociate from the chanting of stotras; songs that no-one can sing without invoking the ghost of MS. (Even if Semmangudi had sung Maarubalga thousands of times and was known for singing it, artists can still sing it as just a song, not a Semmangudi song. Not so with Kurai Ondrum Illai; even if you say absolutely nothing, it will be heard as a tribute to MS. It's really remarkable how iconic MS has become through her image, her famous songs, and her stotras--so iconic that they're irreplaceable. Think of her Vishnu Sahasranamam, her Venkatasa Suprabatham, her Bhaja Govindam.
More than leaving behind a legacy within Carnatic music (since there is no "MS Bani"), it seems to me that what MS did was to redefine Carnatic music's place in South Indian culture, and particularly Tamil Brahmin culture. I know many people for whom Carnatic music means MS Subbulakshmi. It must have something to do (with the fact) that she was also on the silver screen, and also reached a wider audience, and also appealed to religious emotion. I don't know whose decision it was, but I like the fact that MS's music managed to expand the reach of Carnatic music, and that her musical philosophy must have included a commitment to touching more and more people. MS in the blue sari singing a ragam-tanam-pallavi, MS holding the jingu-chucks while singing devotional songs, and MS singing maitreem bhajata at the UN are all equally important images of her. I hope her legacy in our generation will involve this commitment to taking Carnatic music where it doesn't usually go, and to privilege that openness to the world over the mad fury with purity that sometimes threatens to close Carnatic music off.
And the thoughts of another young singer.....
Overall, her music to me was associated with bhakti, religiosity. Her voice was nostalgia for me - of my grandmother/her generation - and the nervous busy-ness/excitement that surrounded festivals (poojas, weddings, etc).
I didn't listen to her a ton from a Carnatic perspective - to learn new repertoire, technicalities, etc. But her open-throated approach, sharp pronunciation (even if not appropriate for non-south Indian languages, a complaint I heard from many), and her really really amazing adherence to pitch (I rarely ever heard an off-sruti moment) were things I picked up on and consciously/unconsciously tried to imbibe.
In terms of her as a cultural figure/icon, I don't know the accurate history of her life but I do feel like her image was constructed by the TamBrahm community as a sort of beacon of piety/perfection, which I personally don't find appealing at this stage of my life.
I think it reinforced oppressive views of what women should wear, sound like, sing about. The "manager" vibe of her husband is also a bit off-putting especially since he seemed to be very much in control/making decisions, while she was the one with the talent, charm, x factor.
And finally, one more, from somebody who is clearly not a fan: I have never really thought about her music, nor do I think much of it.
* * *
So as you can see, the youngsters are all aware of MS Subbulakshmi beyond her music. And, as you can tell, these are extremely smart, extremely articulate, extremely analytical people. The socio-cultural part of her story stood out for them; that a non-Brahmin gained such approval and adoration within the tightly-knit and insular Tamil Brahmin community; the feminists chafed at the notion that she was so controlled and managed by her husband. I was frankly blown away by their responses. Something about her story, about her stretching and breaking boundaries, the streak of unconventionality in an outwardly conventional life, has caught their attention. Even if MS’s music per se is something that they have not listened to or thought about in depth, or even liked, they are aware of the bigger universe that she is a part of. And for all the packaging and marketing that they are aware that contributed to her image and legacy, they admire the fact that, paradoxical as it may seem, she was true to herself. That even with the diversity of places she performed in and audiences she performed for and the songs she sang, there was a core something that remained constant, that she was true to all her life.
So, what do I think will be her legacy? More than the actual music, an aura, a mystique, the story of a life that was complex and with issues that may not resonate with the musicians of the future, but a life that was lived to the full nonetheless. When I was young, the early morning sounds in many neighborhoods in Madras was MS’s Venkatesa Suprabatham. Almost every house played it, at full volume, to start the day off on an auspicious note. Not so today. The sounds one hears are from the television, the radio, a range of music and programs that people have the choice of these days. One hardly hears the Suprabatham - perhaps people are listening through their headphones?
So here are some of the factors that made up MS’s magic formula. She set herself apart and was true to herself. She created a need and a niche that wasn’t there earlier. She let her passion and vision guide her, but also keep her finger on the pulse of her audience and her world and was prepared to adapt, try new things. And then she worked, worked, worked, and never stopped learning. She presented her work in a form that was aesthetically pleasing to all the senses and, hardest of all, the soul. Every program she presented was a meticulously crafted and controlled affair that overlooked no detail, however small. MS did all this.
I truly believe that whether you like MS’s music or not, brilliant packaging and marketing or not, everyone will agree that that core, that heart, steady and shining, was the source of her radiance and legacy. And its glow will live for a long time to come.
Thank you.
With the legendary ghatam genius Sri Vikku Vinayakram, who played the ghatam for MS for many years; he was a panelist at this conference and it was my honour to have him listen to my talk.