Sukanya Ramgopal’s home breathes laya, emanating from the musical clay pot, ghatam. The living room, dining room and bedrooms of her apartment have tall metal shelves that are lined with ghatams of different srutis. “I have about 82 of them,” says the ghatam exponent, and each of them the sturdy, Manamadurai variety. As she proudly stands beside what she treasures the most, one is reminded of her early years when she had to implore to be allowed to learn the ghatam. She would have never imagined then of a house filled with the instrument.
Sukanya, the first woman to play the ghatam in the history of Carnatic music, upturning the idea that the field of percussion is meant for men. She has since walked the long and difficult path. Her journey and that of the instrument are summed up in the book ‘Sunaadam: The Vikku Bani of Ghatam Playing’ that Sukanya has authored and will release on September 25 in Bengaluru. It is the first book ever to be written on ghatam.
“It was the golden period of my life,” recalls Sukanya talking about her training days. “Vikku Vinayakram sir refused to take me as his student because I was a girl and left to teach at Berkeley. However, his father, Harihara Sharma, not only agreed to teach me but told Vikku sir, ‘when you come back, you will be surprised by her artistry’. On his return, Vikku sir was indeed amazed at the intense training that his father had subjected me to. By then, perhaps being at Berkeley had also made him understand that it was not such a bad idea to teach women. He was brimming with ideas, but didn’t have the language to communicate it.”
“He would tell me, ‘ask me to demonstrate as many times as you want to, but I cannot explain’.” Sukanya remembers how excited she felt in his class. He had evolved a playing technique that was ghatam’s own. “Since then it had been my dream to showcase and propagate his bani. It is a style rich with ideas, but made simple for the learner. I want the younger generation to appreciate the thought that has gone into it, and also preserve it for posterity.”
Much of the book, says Sukanya, is modelled on Harihara Sharma’s book, ‘The Art of the Mridangam’. But how was she able to translate the musical ideas that are spontaneous in nature into words?
“It is very difficult, which is what has delayed the completion of this book. For instance, to produce the ‘dom’ sound, there are three ways. It is something to be demonstrated and not written. Also, it differs from student to student. Teaching is customised according to the need of each student. The book will have all these limitations, but as Vikku sir writes in his Foreword, the book, which also contains basic lessons, is only a tool and cannot replace a guru.”
After the release, the book will be available through a website that will also feature Sukanya reciting the korvais. She is already planning a second book focussing on “mine and Vikku sir’s special rhythm creations.”
Sukanya hopes that the book will enthuse more women to learn the ghatam. There is no other woman playing this instrument professionally in India. She has just one female student. “So many women have learnt the mridangam . But have you seen any main artist taking them as accompanists? Or sabhas? Ghatam occupies the third place in the hierarchy of percussion. If women mridangam vidwans don’t find a place, you think we will? Nothing has changed in all these years. Even if they call us, they give microphones with such poor output…”
The reason could be more complex, says Sukanya. In a tani avartanam, the ghatam player is supposed to give a befitting reply to the mridangam artist. This calls for a lot of hardwork and preparation. “If you outshine the mridangam player, you may incur his wrath and that of many others.”
She has taken up such challenges. “In fact I started the ghatam tarang to put the instrument on centre stage,” she says, narrating many instances when she was rejected and humiliated by sabhas, vocal artists, and fellow percussionists. “Just last month,” says Sukanya, “a prominent music sabha in Bengaluru cancelled me as accompanist at the last minute because the mridangam artist didn’t want to play with a woman.”
From the time the ghatam caught her imagination, Sukanya has faced opposition.
“I had to face a ‘no’ at every stage. But that ‘no’ inspired me to achieve my dream; it didn’t discourage me. I would not have achieved anything if my guru Harihara Sharma, and later Vikku sir had not encouraged me. The Mahaperiyava of Kanchi is my soul force. My stubborn father changed his mind because of the support my mother extended to me. I cannot thank my husband enough. He took voluntary retirement rather early and allowed me to pursue my goal while he took care of the family.
“Very senior artists have said unsavoury things to me, but I attribute it to some divine power that has held me together against all odds. I want to keep my art intact, and not spend too much time thinking about the strange ways of this world…,” says Sukanya emphatically, as she settles down to demonstrate the gumki, which men swank about with bare-chested pride.
