BV Balasai’s “Moods of the Bamboo”

by Nirmala Seshadri
January 14th 2008

From the age of sixteen I would visit Chennai (Madras, rather) virtually every December to attend the Season. In those days there was an excitement in me as also the stamina to hop from sabha to sabha, enjoying the doasas and vadas in those canteens, generally soaking it all in. It wouldn’t be just the dance shows; I was passionately interested in Carnatic music too and would join in all the thigh slapping, head swaying and clucking.

Now when I look back, it is as if I am looking at a different person. A person who is so diametrically different from the person I am today. Perhaps actually standing on the other side, on stage, for a few years brought in a change of perspective. I began to see things that as an innocent audience member, I had totally missed seeing. Or perhaps I have just outgrown it all. Is there any regret? Not an ounce.

Against this backdrop I couldn’t believe I was actually at a sabha for a Carnatic music concert. No thigh slapping now- thigh pinching perhaps! But how could I not attend Balasai’s concert? Years ago (I’m speaking of the early 90s), Balasai used to play live for my solo Bharatanatyam performances. After a longish break, I got back to dance in 2002. For the last five years he has been a partner in crime, composing music for my concept driven works. No easy task this, as it means placing concept above all else. It means stepping out of the traditional framework and norms and viewing the form with fresh eyes. Initially I would hesitate to offer certain suggestions as I know that Balasai is sincere to tradition. But then I began to realize that this exceptional musician was uncompromising in a creative sense. He would do whatever it took to work with concept, even if it meant letting go of the familiar.

So how could I not attend a concert by Balasai, that too one that was going to be experimental and exploratory in nature? A day before the actual concert I sat in on a rehearsal and was astounded by the energy, excitement, playful spirit and camaraderie that filled the room. There were eleven musicians- Balasai on the flute, with the mridangam, violin, tabla, keyboard, rhythm pads, saxophone and four vocalists supporting him. During the two hours that I spent, there was laughter, chatter, jokes criss-crossing along with the music which left me totally spellbound. As they practiced the Thillana (composed by Balasai in raag Desh and tala khanda jathi triputa), I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. Was it the music which touched excellence, was it the single-pointed devotion to music, was it the high energy and excitement in the room, was it the courage and commitment to experimentation that moved me or was it the fact that I had been suddenly lifted out of the state of numbness and disinterest? Possibly it was a combination of factors that made me get up quietly to leave the rehearsal, just to be alone to come to terms with the high.

Balasai’s phenomenal work “The Moods of the Bamboo” is almost an invitation to revel in oneness through a voice that is ancient, sensual and eternal. A primordial voice that calls out through a reed. The bamboo flute, the instrument of the shepherds, leads us back to our folk and primal origins and yet it can be the most refined instrument, imbued with the flexibility to traverse genres of music. The flute is so simple it can be played all alone. And yet, it has the capacity to call out and draw all to it.

Balasai’s flute met with a range of other instruments and sounds. It was a meeting of music with technology that created a presence of instruments through absence. The meeting of tradition with new possibilities. Each piece was rooted in tradition but infused with new energy.

The flute merged and yet stood apart, a metaphorical Krishna at the centre in a Raas Leela with the Gopis. Together they journeyed through form and space- Carnatic, folk, Hindustani, Jazz and semi-classical, exploring the distinctness of each and yet the inter-connectedness.

Unpredictability was what characterized each piece, except perhaps for Deva Deva Kalayaamithe (a Swati Thirunal composition) that was rendered faithfully in the traditional Carnatic format. But a moment of predictability in an exciting wave of change is not only welcome but needed as an anchor of sorts especially for an audience that has been attuned to the traditional format for a whole season. Also it underscored the timeless depth and beauty of the form. And yet, contrary to what I felt when I first began listening to the music at the rehearsal, each piece had been worked on, played with and extended into something even better than the original.

Krishna Nee Begane Baro, Brahmam Okate, Sadinchene O Manasa are cases in point. In Krishna Nee Begane Baro, a dramatic quality was brought out- one could almost see the mischievous prankster, the loving mother as well as a devotee who is yearning for a glimpse of something higher. Brahmam Okate was a unique rendition in which the musicians not only played their own instruments but stepped out to contribute to the concept of “one voice containing the cadences of many different voices”. Saadinchene O Manasa is one Pancharatna kriti in which Tyagaraja actually takes the liberty of remonstrating his favourite deity Rama. While the instrumentation highlighted this, one somehow got the feeling that the singers were focused more on ‘singing in praise of’ which seemed to be at a tangent to the central idea of the kriti.

One did feel somehow that the singers did not come across as effectively as the rest of the orchestra. One reason could have been that they could hardly be heard. Also I felt that they did not have much of a role. Perhaps stronger, more confident voices as well as a greater inclusion of vocals would have made for a more cohesive and effective whole. Another point- there is something unnatural and disturbing about women singers having to sing outside of their comfortable pitch to suit the male pitch.

The fusion number set in the Jazz format with solos by the saxophone, violin, flute, keyboard and rhythm pads was another high point and it demonstrated the sheer versatility of these musicians, excelling in the form and yet able to step out of it with such ease to create something new. What brought the piece down slightly was the saxophone which somehow did not rise to the level of the other instruments. I can’t help wondering if it would have been different if it had had more of a presence through the concert. Also the rhythm pads solo, while interesting and exciting in parts, did end up going on for too long.


Balasai’s Bansuri with Chandrajit’s tabla in raag Mohanangi and Teen Taal was haunting and a soothing break from the Carnatic genre. Of course the Hindustani lover in me would have liked for it to have gone on longer, but then I reminded myself that that was not the point of the process. The idea was to journey and when viewed in that context the experiment not only worked, it worked brilliantly.

As a dancer I could not help but get drawn into the Desh Thillana. Srinivas, who maintained a high energy throughout the concert played this piece as if he were accompanying a dancer thereby creating the presence of an invisible dancer at the center of it all.

The musicians were:

On the bamboo flute, susatoo flute, bansuri and western key flute- BV Balasai who also composed and arranged the background score.
On the mridangam- DA Srinivas, who also conceived and composed the rhythm patterns
Violin- Raghavendra Rao
Saxophone- Rajah
Tabla- Chandrajit
Vocals- Sai Bhavadharini, Krithika, Sudhir Warier and Aravind Menon
Keyboard- AS Ram
Rhythm Pads- Sri Ram


That such an off-beat work had the chance of seeing the light of day at a sabha and that too during the sacred season speaks volumes for the relative open-mindedness of a sabha like Bharat Kalachar but that it was staged after December came and went is a telling statement. But taking my Pessimist hat off for a moment- that it was staged at all and received well by an appreciative audience is something to smile about. Mrs YGP, in her inimitable style, commended the effort, recognizing the courage and difficulty involved in such a venture and the role that a process such as this could play in motivating the younger generation.

At this stage, I can only say I am truly proud of my creative collaborator and his team for working with such conviction, for daring to be different. While this platform was ideal to begin with, I hope that the musicians will get to jam on a larger stage the next time. And that there will be a next time. And that they will truly jam like they did on the day of the rehearsal. For on the actual day, I missed the enjoyment, light-heartedness, playfulness and laughter.