An evening of Carnatic Music with Maestro Vittal Ramamurthy and his students.
The journey to the November 14th’s Carnatic concert was a test. Rain pounded us as we ran for the van from the house. I have terrible night vision so the drive was even more harrowing than normal. Water rushed over the windshield as we barreled to our destination.
I missed the turn as I usually do but in the dark I was more concerned about it. I knew there was another way in coming up or if worse came to worse, I could swing by my mother’s street and weave in backwards. But, I made the second turn and while whooping with my daughter, I pulled into a parking space and turned the car off.
We sat for a moment contemplating the show we were about to see. Neither one of us knew what to expect. I had played some Youtube videos of Carnatic music performances so that we would have an idea, but this show proved to be different as Maestro Vittal Ramamurthy would be playing violin accompanied by his students. My daughter plays violin, but Western style and had never heard of the instrument being used for classical Indian music. We were both anticipating a learning experience.
Finally, we reached over our seats for our umbrellas and cracking the door, we ventured into the storm. The night sky was barely visible through dark clouds. Water sparkled when the rain hit the street lamps and for a moment, it felt as though we were entering a realm of magic realism.
As we approached the line of doors, I noticed a sign instructing us to use the other door taped to the middle. Thankfully, a young man opened one and beckoned us in. It did not take long to determine where to go as Ms. Indhra Rajashekar and her group, Eastern Cultural Heritage Organization (ECHO) had done a fantastic job of putting this event together. We were immediately greeted by an array of color and warmth.
Bangles sang out as a young woman moved by us in a whirl of red and green, a faint amber scent descending. As we drew closer to the auditorium we were struck by a myriad of images. Men handed us our tickets and programs, a young girl in a deep red lengha choli pressed her palms together and murmured “Namaste” and offered us to choose from a tray of artfully arranged Starburst candies. A drawing made from colored sand sanctified the space. It was impossible to not be swept up in the bustle of energy and excitement in the air. We headed in and found seats.
I could tell right away that this was not going to be like any of my daughter’s concerts I have attended. A platform had been erected on the stage and covered in white. Four violins and a keyboard were placed strategically in a half moon shape with two different drums on either end. An altar with a statue of Ganesha and offerings resided to my right of the platform.
After the introductions, Maestro Ramamurthy and his students took the stage. I knew only one of the students was near my daughter’s age. Harini Rajashekar was a year older. The other two violinists, Aditi Ramesh and Neha Krishnamachary were both in high school. I was hoping they would prove to be an inspiration to my child, who was leaning forward for a better view. The violinists were joined by Maheetha Bharadwaj on keyboards and Arjun Raghavan on the mridangam and Subhang Srinivasan on ghatam, both South Indian style drums. Each artist sat cross legged on the platform and began to tune their instruments. One of the first things we noticed and commented on was that the musicians propped their violins with their legs instead of holding them at arm’s length while sitting on a hard backed chair.
The silence was pierced by an array of aural color as the first notes slipped from Ramamurthy’s violin and cascaded through the auditorium. As each student began to join him, music swirled around me until I felt a slight tugging at my chest. A longing grew to be a part of something I was separate from and an overwhelming urge to break down and weep washed over me as the music soared.
As the drumming picked up, I felt the desire to dance. I knew I was not the only one. In fact, the floor reverberated as the audience foot tapped to the beat. The man behind me kept rhythm by clapping and sang creating a cocoon that was enveloping.
Throughout the evening, the audience clapped and moved their hands through mudras while the musicians moved us with their polished technique. Most of the music was improvised according to Maestro Vittal Ramamurthy. His students followed his cues seamlessly. The ending music allowed the drummers, Subhang Srinivasan artfully playing the ghatam and Arjun Raghavan mastering the mridangam to have a sort of drum off that was powerful and truly showcased their talent. The finale of the evening was one of Mahatma Gandhi’s favorites. This was only time that Ramamurthy lent his vocals and combined with the gentleman seated behind me, this was by far the most moving moment of the evening. Encased within the envelope of their voices and the engulfing music, I truly felt part of something. I snuck a look at my daughter and she too was experiencing the same ecstasy.
Ms. Indhra Rajashekar took the stage again to thank everyone who had participated in putting the event together as well as presenting the students with plaques and Maestro Vittal Ramamurthy with a token of ECHO’s appreciation. Afterwards we were all invited to join Ms. Rajashekar and the musicians for a reception. We were fortunate to meet both Maestro Vittal Ramamurthy and Indhra Rajashekar. My hope is that ECHO continues to bring traditional and authentic eastern culture to Southern Maine as my daughter and I left not only musically educated, but spiritually and emotionally educated as well.
