… a guru loose in the back paddock
The first few lessons with Kadri are alternately inspiring and frustrating. He is a wonderful musician, a great teacher, and a warm and funny human being … but saxophone in Carnatic music is very different to the traditional instruments of Carnatic music (voice in particular), and very different to saxophone in normal western jazz/pop/classical usage. It is a frustrating exercise, and means a solid stint back at basics, with most of my prior knowledge of Carnatic music not much use at all … perhaps even an impediment.
First blow is the issue with pitch/sruti. Kadri is a master of many many ragas, but all from a single fingering. When we discussed this in relation to the repertoire, this makes perfect sense. Traditional Indian music of just about every style (including Carnatic) works from a single root note (‘sruti’). Compositions span about two octaves, with no common composition going below the minor third below the sruti, or above the fifth above the octave of the sruti. Bottom line is that there is one fingering for the saxophone that satisfies this with simple flowing fingerings for most notes. This is written G, which Kadri uses for all his classical performances … he occaisionally uses other fingerings for ‘light classical’ music, but would not consider them for serious music and tricky improvisations. This would be fine if I had an alto sax (the same that Kadri uses) with me, but I have a soprano … using Kadri’s fingerings will give me a different pitch … but Kadri won’t take me seriously when I assert that I could learn the music from different fingerings. I decide to do things the ‘correct’ way … and discover that Kadri has an old soprano hidden at the back of his bedroom. Glitch number one cleared.
Kadri insists that I start with the Carnatic music book one, the standard book of basic exercises. This is a hard pill, as I had hoped to be able to start from somewhere near where I’d left off the vocal training. However, I manage to recover and remember most of the basic exercises and songs in a couple of weeks. But just as I think I’m making some progress, I realise how damnably comples both the music and Kadri’s approach to it is. I think I repeated this cycle of small progress and major daunting several times, and doubtless will continue to do so.
Some of the key features of Carnatic music are graceful slides between swaras (notes) and intense and very specific vibrato on some swaras … this alll being highly dependent on context, rhythm, tempo, and raga. This is hard enough for a vocalist, but for a keyed instrument such as sax, there are a lot of modifications to what would you migh call ‘conventional’ technique. Kadri’s technique involves a combination of vibrato, lip slurs, quick trills, and grace notes to achieve what comes naturally to an Indian singer. After a few more weeks, I feel like I’ve got a basic idea of how the style fits together, but stringing it together for even a basic varnam (‘model’ composition for a particular raga) is proving to be a major challenge. I think Kadri is a bit frustrated too. More importantly, though, his youngest son, Mani is getting married. There are a lot of preparations … and a lot of gigs to be done. I get invited (the wedding is in Mangalore, Kadri’s home town on the west coast, and the reception is in Chennai). But …
With all this there is not enough time to give classes. Kadri feels I need someone teaching on a daily basis, and he is not able to do that. Int the meantime, another student arrives, Stephan from France. Kadri’s suggestion for both of us is that we take residence at his own Guru’s school. When he was starting out, Kadri lived for nearly 15 years with T.V.Gopalakrishnan, a legendary Mridangist, and hindustani and classical vocalist. This seems like an opportunity too good to miss, a traditional ‘gurukulum’ (‘guru’s house) situation.
TVG’s school is in a quiet part of Chennai, a way down the coast … near Besant Nagar beach. OK, so the water is probably still too toxic for me to swim comfortably, but it’s possible to wade out a way without stepping in human shit. For a Chennai beach that is amazing. It’s very quiet midweek, but gets a crowd happening on weekends. There are fishermen living in beachside slums (ie shacks on the sand) on both sides of the beach, but the main beach of B.Nagar is clear and clean. The school is also a short walk from the Theosophical society gardens, one of the quietest and sanest places in Chennai. It is a quiet street, and seems like a perfect place to spend some months dedicated to Carnatic music.
Also staying at the school are Salli, a senior disciple of TVG, and Carmody, an Indian student from South Africa.
Everything seems to begin beautifully, particularly after the upfront fees are paid, and a first class the next day sets many new challenges.
But in India things are not necessarily what they seem. A few days after the first lesson, I have settled into a solid practice routine, focusing a lot of attention on basics, and that dreaded first book of exercises which you are supposed to be able to do on every raga. Now the worms pop out before the can is even fully opened.
A lot of time has been wasted making sure I have the correct respectful dress. Well that means traditional gear. I am coerced into wearing an oversize hanky (‘dotti’) that is meant to be worn in a way that is kind of self supporting … think refined sarong. I think you have to be born to that to be comfortable with it … though the airflow is a relief in the Chennai heat.
A second lesson, this time with TVG’s son, Prakesh, also a saxophonist. This proves frustrating. Like all Indian sax players, he plays Alto. We are in the same pitch when I am on clarinet, but I’m not a fluid enough player to pick up things quickly on clarinet … I’m having to find/invent fingerings. Everyone is a bit annoyed. We have launched into a Kriti, Sree Gananathan, but not getting much past first line and some variations.
This lesson is on the weekend after I move in. This weekend, I have discovered worm 2. I don’t have a room per se. At least not on the weekend … I have to lock all my belongings in a cupboard and leave the room for most of the day while various classes are run. Wait a min. I’m paying rent here… ok so Salli deals with this, I guess I can. OK so I can wander down by the beach. There is serious reticence in letting me have a front door key.
Worm 3 is subtle and a few days after the weekend, I ask about what the schedule is. Schedule? I am told quite abruptly thaqt my fees don’t really cover that many lessons from the famous TVG. 5000 Rs / month buys bugger all in fact. TV Guruji gets paid about 2000 a lesson. Not a lot by western standards, but more than I can afford for daily lessons, and these are not western standards… we are not living in Europe, earning European currency. I am starting to feel quite ripped off. The figure TVG mentions rings a bell. It is exactly the amount that Claire, a flute player/motorcycle chick I’d met at Broadlands, mentions when she describes many carnatic musicians as being spoilt. She has a genuinely in-family relationship with her teacher. It is certainly a far cry from the in kind relationship I had with Kadri. I decide to commit to my own practice, take on as much as I can, and see where I’m at after a month.
