VigneshIshwar
HMSmitha
PraveenSparsh
GiridharUdupa
01 dAriNI telusukoNTi tripura sundhari shuddha sAvEri Adi tyAgarAja
02 rAma nIvAdukonduvO kalyANi Adi tyAgarAja (A, S)
03 smaraNE sukhamu rAma janaranjani tyAgarAja (A, S)
04 brOva vammA thAmasa mEla mAnji chApu shyAma shAsthry
05 bAlakrishnam bhAvayAmi balarAmAnujam vasudeva gOpikAvasanta Adi m.dIkshitar
06 rAga tAna kEdAragauLa
06 Saraguna pAlimpa kEdAragowLa Adi rAmanAthapuram srInivAsa iyengAr (N, S, T)
07 jAnarO khamAs jAvaLi Rupaka Chinniah
08 ViTalA SalahO SwAmi dEsh p.dAsa
09 tillANa surUTi Adi mysUru vAsudEvAchArya
10 rAmachandrAya janaka mangaLam kuranji bhadrAcala rAmadas
A Richly Crafted Evening at KALOTSAV
There are concerts where one admires the musicianship, and there are concerts where the entire evening seems to acquire a personality of its own. The KALOTSAV concert featuring Vignesh Ishwar, H. M. Smitha, Praveen Sparsh and Giridhar Udupa belonged to the latter category. It was a concert marked by a thoughtfully assembled repertoire, attractive raga choices and an appealing progression from the classical weight of the opening section to the lighter and devotional music of the concluding stretch.
What made the programme especially satisfying was its balance. There was enough substantial Carnatic content for the serious rasika, with several ragas receiving individual attention, while the latter half opened out into the more relaxed world of a javali, a Purandara Dasa composition, tillana and mangalam. The concert never seemed to be in a hurry to reach its destination. Instead, it allowed each item to establish its own mood before moving on to the next.
The evening opened with Tyagaraja's “Darini Telusukonti Tripura Sundari” in Shuddha Saveri, set to Adi tala. Shuddha Saveri makes for a bright and purposeful opening, and the kriti immediately placed the concert in firmly classical territory. There is an appealing directness to the raga, and beginning with this composition created a clean musical entry before the programme expanded into more elaborate raga explorations.
The next presentation, Tyagaraja's “Rama Nivadu Konduvo” in Kalyani, also in Adi tala, brought the first substantial raga treatment of the concert, with alapana and swaras. Kalyani is such a vast and familiar landscape that every musician approaches it with the challenge of saying something personal without losing its essential character. Its inclusion this early gave the concert an immediate expansion in melodic scope. The contrast with Shuddha Saveri was striking: from the compact clarity of the opening raga to the enormous expressive possibilities of Kalyani.
This was followed by another Tyagaraja composition, “Smarane Sukhamu Rama” in Janaranjani, presented with alapana and swaras. Janaranjani is an interesting choice because it does not carry the same overwhelming familiarity as Kalyani. Its inclusion gave the programme a welcome sense of variety and demonstrated that the repertoire was not being driven solely by the usual concert staples.
The sequence of Kalyani followed by Janaranjani was particularly attractive. The former provides an expansive, majestic canvas; the latter has a more distinctive and intimate personality. Such changes of colour keep a concert alive. They also give the listener an opportunity to appreciate how differently the voice responds to different melodic structures.
Syama Sastri's “Brova Vamma Thamasa” in Manji, set to Chapu tala, was another noteworthy selection. Manji has a deeply emotive and somewhat inward character, and Syama Sastri's compositions are ideally suited to revealing that dimension. After the comparatively brighter Janaranjani, the move into Manji brought the concert into more poignant territory.
The programme then took a beautiful devotional turn with Muthuswami Dikshitar's “Balakrishnam Bhavayami Balaramanujam”, in Vasudeva Gopikavasanta, set to Adi tala. The very choice of this raga and composition added considerable distinction to the programme. Dikshitar's compositions often invite the listener to appreciate melody and lyrical content as an integrated whole, and a composition invoking Balakrishna was particularly appropriate within the larger devotional thread that would become increasingly prominent later in the concert.
Then came the centrepiece: a raga-tana presentation in Kedāragaula, followed by Ramanathapuram Srinivasa Iyengar's “Saraguna Palimpa” in Kedāragaula, set to Adi tala, with neraval, swaras and tani.
This was naturally the heart of the concert.
Kedāragaula is a raga that can be both stately and deeply expressive. It has a certain old-world richness to it, and its identity is best appreciated when its characteristic melodic movement is given sufficient room. The decision to build the main section around Kedāragaula was therefore a particularly attractive one.
The raga-tana treatment provided the necessary breadth, while “Saraguna Palimpa” brought the exploration into the structured world of the kriti. The subsequent neraval and swara passages expanded the musical possibilities further, and the tani gave the rhythmic section its own well-earned space.
The choice of Ramanathapuram Srinivasa Iyengar for the main kriti was another point in favour of the programme. It is refreshing to see concert programming embrace compositions beyond the most predictable repertoire. Such selections add both character and historical depth to a performance.
The rhythmic team of Praveen Sparsh and Giridhar Udupa had an important role in this central section. Mridangam and ghatam together can create a wonderfully rich rhythmic texture, and the tani provided an opportunity for the percussionists to step forward as independent musical voices. The tani was therefore not merely a break in the vocal presentation but an integral part of the concert's overall rhythmic architecture.
After this substantial central section, the programme relaxed beautifully with the Chinniah javali “Janaro” in Khamas, set to Rupaka tala. This was an ideal choice for the post-tani transition. Khamas has an inherent elegance and sensuality, and the lighter form of the javali provides an entirely different expressive vocabulary from the weightier kritis of the first half.
The shift was not abrupt. Rather, it felt like the concert deliberately shedding some of its formal weight.
The Purandara Dasa composition “Vitthala Salaho Swami” in Desh continued this lighter and devotional phase. The choice of Desh brought yet another melodic colour, while Purandara Dasa connected the presentation to the rich devotional heritage of Karnataka. After the classical intensity of Kedāragaula, this was music that invited the listener simply to enjoy the melody and the devotional sentiment.
The Suruti tillana in Adi tala by Mysore Vasudevacharya then supplied the rhythmic sparkle one expects towards the end of a concert. Suruti itself has a distinctly traditional flavour, and a tillana in this raga makes for a graceful combination of melodic elegance and rhythmic energy. It also provided a welcome lift after the more devotional mood of the preceding piece.
The concert concluded with “Ramachandraya Janaka” in Kurinji, the mangalam attributed to Bhadrachala Ramadas. The choice of Kurinji for the conclusion was particularly graceful. After a programme that had traversed a considerable melodic and emotional range, the mangalam brought the evening gently to rest rather than attempting to manufacture a dramatic ending.
Looking at the concert as a whole, one of its strongest features was the intelligence of its sequencing. The programme began with Shuddha Saveri, moved through Kalyani and Janaranjani, deepened into Manji, turned towards the devotional world of Vasudeva Gopikavasanta, and then reached its principal classical summit in Kedāragaula. From there, the music gradually relaxed through Khamas, Desh and Suruti before settling into Kurinji.
That is a very satisfying concert architecture.
There was also an admirable balance between familiarity and exploration. Tyagaraja appeared several times, giving the programme a strong compositional foundation, while Syama Sastri, Muthuswami Dikshitar, Ramanathapuram Srinivasa Iyengar, Chinniah, Purandara Dasa, Mysore Vasudevacharya and Bhadrachala Ramadas broadened the repertoire considerably.
For a rasika, these choices matter. A concert becomes more memorable when the repertoire itself stimulates curiosity.
Vignesh Ishwar's presentation was particularly well served by such a programme. The succession of ragas allowed the vocalist to move through markedly different emotional territories rather than remaining within one narrow aesthetic. The programme demanded both classical discipline and the ability to communicate the softer, more devotional pieces that followed the main section.
The violin contribution of H. M. Smitha was equally important in creating the sense of continuity that a vocal concert of this breadth requires. The violin has to do more than reproduce the vocalist's phrases; the most rewarding accompaniment creates an additional melodic layer, allowing the central musical ideas to resonate more fully.
Similarly, Praveen Sparsh on mridangam and Giridhar Udupa on ghatam gave the concert its rhythmic backbone. Their presence became particularly significant in the neraval, swara and tani portions, where rhythmic sensitivity is inseparable from melodic imagination.
What ultimately distinguishes this concert is that it did not feel like a demonstration of individual items. It felt like a musical narrative. Each raga contributed a different emotional shade; each composer brought a different voice; each section altered the atmosphere without breaking the continuity of the evening.
The concert began with the directness of Shuddha Saveri, opened its horizons with Kalyani, explored Janaranjani, became introspective in Manji, turned devotional through Balakrishna, reached its expansive centre in Kedāragaula and finally descended gently through Khamas, Desh, Suruti and Kurinji.
There is something deeply satisfying about such an arc.
The final mangalam did not feel like the end of a checklist. It felt like the natural conclusion of a carefully designed journey. One was left with the impression of having experienced not merely a succession of kritis, but a richly layered evening of melody, rhythm, poetry and devotion.
The programme demonstrated that a concert can be both classically substantial and emotionally accessible, both adventurous in repertoire and respectful of tradition. That balance is not easy to achieve, and it was perhaps the evening's most commendable quality.
For the rasika, the rewards were many: the familiar beauty of Kalyani and Saveri, the less routine colours of Janaranjani and Vasudeva Gopikavasanta, the poignancy of Manji, the substantial Kedāragaula raga-tana-kriti, the rhythmic vitality of the tani and tillana, and finally the serenity of Kurinji.
It was, in every sense, a well-conceived, musically rewarding and beautifully paced concert—one that respected the intelligence of its listeners while never losing sight of the fundamental joy of making music.
And perhaps that is the highest compliment one can give a Carnatic concert: it made one want to keep listening.
Vignesh Ishwar, H. M. Smitha, Praveen Sparsh and Giridhar Udupa created an evening of considerable musical substance, elegant repertoire choices, vibrant rhythmic interplay and lingering emotional appeal. A concert where tradition was not merely preserved, but made to feel wonderfully alive.
