There comes a time in the life of every art form when it is central to people’s lives and lies at the bedrock of their culture. And then, almost naturally, there also comes a time when the same form is consigned to the background, for other forms to take centre stage. A common example of law of averages, perhaps. However, for every art form, the journey from the centre to the margins or the other way around is an individual story: a story of each art form’s singular success or struggle against compulsions of changing audience and commercial tastes, among other factors. The life of Sugama Sangeetha in Karnataka is going through a similar trajectory.
If one were to pen a concise history of light music in Karnataka today, one would not have to go far too back in time to recall a period when the genre effortlessly occupied a central position in public memory and in the lives of men and women in the State. Up until the early years of the 21st century, it was the key source of entertainment for the Kannada middle class who would throng to light music concerts in the city or tune in to the Radio for their regular dose of Kannada poetry strung so beautifully in tune by exceptionally talented singers and composers.
As Shimoga Subbanna says, “Kannada poetry before Sugama Sangeetha’s popular days was restricted to the literate. But, with the advent of the Bhavageethe, through the medium of song — thanks to the efforts of artists like Kalinga Rao and H.R.Leelavathi — the essence of poetry became intelligible to the illiterate as well.”
And, where would light music have been if not for the cassettes? With tailor-made playlists categorised according to one's favourite poet or singer, connoisseurs of the genre did not have to wait for the scheduled slot on the radio anymore. All they needed to do was insert their favourite cassette in the tape recorder to listen to a Bhavageethe of their choice at their will. The ascent of the cassettes changed the market for music radically. “There was a huge difference between why Akashvani played light music and why cassettes were being produced,” says N. Raghu, Program Executive, All India Radio, Bangalore. “In cassettes, light music was a commercial product. Music began to be recorded using modern equipments. It even attempted to imitate film music,” he explains.
However, right after the period of peak, the genre began its journey from the centre towards the margins. Gradually, cassettes faded from the markets. CDs claim to have taken their place but have never quite managed their status. The Internet ignores the genre to a large extent. TV shows have become more about music and dance from Cinema and less about Kannada literature and poetry. The genre has its slot perhaps, in one of the rounds in music competitions on TV. And lastly, only a handful of schools continue to teach their children the words of the State’s poets in a song.
The first issue that comes up in any conversation with both current day and old time practitioners of the genre is the lack of new ‘legendary’ songs that have the ability to catapult a genre back into the spotlight. “All the big-wigs of the field have moved out. After C. Ashwath, the genre’s importance has definitely come down. Where are the new songs? Even today, at any programme, the audience demands that we sing the old classics. This is primarily because none of the new songs have a striking quality to them, the kind that makes people request those songs,” says Ratnamala Prakash.
The legendary singer, B.K. Sumitra agrees. “New compositions have to make their mark and stay in the listener’s mind. Where are they? There are many singers and composers today and yet we do not have compositions that have managed to stake a claim in our minds. The field is now stagnating,” she says.
Upasana Mohan argues that it takes time for compositions from this genre to make their mark. “After Ashwath, we need time. We are not the cinema industry. For us, each year counts. The songs need to grow in people’s minds,” he says. For his part, Mohan continues to teach light music at a school set up by him. Optimistic about the future of the genre, he says that there are plenty of good singers, good compositions and students who are eager to learn new compositions. Hence, according to him, the situation is bound to change in the coming years. “There are poets like H.S.Venkateshmurthy, B.R. Lakshman Rao and Doddarange Gowda who are still producing exceptional work. I’d rather be optimistic about the future of light music,” says Subbanna.
And yet, singers and organizers argue that the space for the genre both on television and on concert platforms are shrinking. Take television, for instance. Almost every singer and composer recounts a meeting with a TV channel that told them that slotting a programme only for light music would not earn the desirable TRPs. “Instead, they ask us to combine it with film songs,” says Archana Udupa. Trying her best to keep the genre and her practice alive, Archana argues that each artist is on his or her own in the field.
Radio too on its lone journey as a public broadcasting agency, continues with its scheduled slots on light music. “I think it is easier because we are a public agency that is not bound by commercial interests. But there is a noticeable change in audience tastes. The spirit of romanticism that sparked poetry and literary activity of the Navodaya movement, which in turn spoke of the contemporary reality, and spoke to the common man about his life, have all died now. Today’s lifestyle has changed. There seems to be no need for those songs anymore,” says Raghu.
In an age when many art forms have chosen to make the extra effort to attract audiences, some singers wonder whether light music too needs to find new ways of making itself appealing to the youth. “We have to be willing to experiment with the genre without compromising on quality. We need to be far more broadminded,” she says and adds that it is not difficult to attract an audience, even the youth towards light music. “We must know what our times demand and adapt to it. It is an important quality of an artist,” she asserts.
Finally, the discussion relates the fate of Sugama Sangeetha with that of the Kannada language. “How many composers and singers actually know Kannada?” asks Archana. “Without an investment in Kannada literature, merely fusing rhyme and metre cannot generate light music. There were people in the past who were ‘breathing’ this genre. They were knowledgeable both in terms of sahitya and sangeetha. The genre needs people who are ready to toil” she says.
The Sugama Sangeetha Parishath, among other activities, holds an annual conference that deliberates on light music. Y.K. Muddukrishna, President of the Parishath, says that the State Government no longer offers the patronage it used to for the genre. “They’d rather pay huge sums of money to get Sonu Nigam or someone from the Hindi film industry. And, the amount they pay for one such concert is not even as much as the Parishath gets in a year,” he says.
