Who’s who in Indian classical music MD Ramanathan

MD Ramanathan (1923-1984)
Simple Man/ Great Music was
how Sruti magazine headlined him when he passed away in 1984 at the age of 61.
He was a cult figure among Carnatic vocalists, with his deep bass (some called
it baritone) voice mesmerising his ardent fans as much as his slow pace and
extraordinary bhava. These fans were to be found in the most unlikely corners
of the world, from distant villages in south India to the sophisticated
festival venues of the Indian diaspora.
Manjapara Devesa Ramanathan, who hailed from the same village in Palakkad
district as veena vidwan MA Kalyanakrishna Bhagavatar, was a disciple of Tiger
Varadachariar, whom he worshipped so devoutly that he is said to have even
imitated his master’s squint.
MDR came from a musical family and had his first lessons from his father Devesa
Bhagavatar. He acquired a BSc Physics degree from Victoria College, Palghat,
and then went to Madras in search of a guru for advanced music learning. His
father took him to Kalakshetra, where the Sangita Sironmani course was being
launched. Thus Ramanathan became Kalakshetra principal Tiger Varadachariar’s
first pupil—his only one in the inaugural year of the course.
Guru and sishya developed a strong bond, with Tiger showering his love and
affection on his young student. For all his guru bhakti, MDR chose to follow a
vilamba kala or slow tempo orientation all through his music career from the
late 1940s to the late 1970s. Like Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar, Tiger was a
master of the classical madhyamakala or medium tempo, but MDR knew that his
voice was better suited to a slow pace.
During a long and distinguished career, MDR came to be known as a classy
musician, though hardly a great crowd-puller as he never played to the gallery.
Among south Indian singers, he was a unique purveyor of expansive raga alapana,
with his oft-repeated Sahana, Sri, Kedaram, Reetigowlai and Yadukulakamboji
standing out for tonal purity and depth of bhava.
In time, MDR became an institution at Kalakshetra, where his concerts were the
highlight of the music part of the annual festival there, with superb
accompaniment from the likes of TN Krishnan and TV Gopalakrishnan. He was also
a most popular teacher there. Refusing to allow students to notate or record
his lessons, he repeated them with infinite patience until he was sure they had
got it right. He told great stories in class, and his humour was infectious.
Though a successful composer of some 300 songs, he rarely taught his students
his own compositions. He instead reserved them for spontaneous outpourings at
temples he visited. He was not only a good teacher, but also made his students
feel wanted. He established such a good rapport with them that he did not
hesitate to raid their tiffin boxes. He also delighted in singing songs poking
fun at colleagues who happened to pass by while his class was in progress. His
love of Horlicks during concerts was apocryphally famous.
Though his genius was otherwise amply recognised by way of awards, he was
arguably the greatest musician to have missed the ultimate accolade of Sangita
Kalanidhi at the Music Academy, a campaign by friends and admirers to obtain
the honour for him in the last year of his life proving infructuous. Though
there have been demands for the title to be conferred on him posthumously, MD
Ramanathan’s greatest award has probably been the love and devotion of
thousands of genuine music lovers.
By V Ramnarayan
Posted by Sruti Magazine June 08, 2012