The most glorious memories about music that T N Krishnan cherishes are from the dim-lit concert stages of his native Kerala more than seven decades ago. Those were days when no village in his part of the country had electricity. “Without the microphone, you get to hear unadulterated music,” points out the octogenarian. “They still linger inside me.... The performances by Palakkad Rama Bhagavathar, Rajarathinam Pillai, Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar, Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavatar,” Krishnan says, recalling the times he would—holding a country torch—walk to the Poornathrayeesa temple and join the annual festivities in his hometown of Tripunithura, the headquarters of the erstwhile Kochi kingdom.
It is another matter that Krishnan eventually went on to accompany some of these masters on the dais. For, TNK, as the artiste is fondly called, gained a name as one of the leading violinists in the Carnatic music scene. In fact, 2011 is his 75th year as a performer.
A winner of the prestigious Padma Bhushan, TNK, now 82, reminisces that the first decisive approval of his talent as an instrumentalist came from none other than the legendary Chembai (1895-1974). More than half-a-century ago, the veteran classical vocalist was to sing at Thrissur, originally with support from Mysore T Chowdiah. The celebrated violinist failed to turn up. TNK, in his 20s, was there to attend the concert. “Chembai chose me as the substitute.”
Thrissur is some 50 miles north of Kochi, but it is in downstate Thiruvananthapuram that TNK was groomed as a redoubtable violinist. Having learned the basics of the stringand- bow instrument under his father Tripunithura Narayana Iyer, TNK shifted to the state capital, the city of the Travancore royal family. There, he was mentored by venerable Semmangudi Sreenivasa Iyer, who was the principal of the Swathi Thirunal College of Music.
TNK couldn’t train directly under Ariyakudi (1890-1967), but he managed to acquire traits of his soulful baani (style) from K Parthasarathy Iyengar, popularly known as Papa. “The compositions I learned from Papa helped me a lot when I later accompanied Ariyakudi,” says TNK. The gurgling flow of notes from Ariyakudi contrasted with the meandering tone of flautist T R Mahalingam (1926-86), another maestro TNK proudly accompanied. “His magic reed taught me the subtle elements of many ragas.” Another late titan of meditative rendition, he says, was M D Ramanathan, who died in 1984 at age 59.
Accompanying his baritone voice was as puzzling as following the nasal track of Madurai Mani Iyer (1912- 68). Always a challenge was G N Balasubramaniam (1910-65), adds TNK, who lived in the national capital for long and retired as dean of the School of Music and Fine Arts at the Delhi University. Post retirement, he has been living in Chennai, the modern-day hub of Carnatic music and the city he first arrived way back in 1942.
TNK was only 52—an age that can be termed ‘young’ for a classical performing artiste—when he was conferred the Madras Music Academy’s Sangeeta Kalanidhi, the most coveted title for any Carnatic exponent.
Having travelled across the country and abroad spreading the essence of south Indian classical music, TNK is also known for his jugalbandis with his sister N Rajam, a leading Hindustani violinist. All these years, his instrument has taught TNK one primary truth: an accompanying violinist should never sense detachment from the main musician. That is one streak you feel when TNK is performing on the stage—unhurried and gimmickry-free.