By Priyanandana A N
The World of Sound
Sound, the humble entity travelling in waves has a lot to contribute in terms of what it communicates. The way sound operates is not limited to the spoken word, utterances and its meaning; but aspects of sound like amplitude and frequency leave us with clues about the speaker’s emotion and intent. Easiest of examples being; a loud and shrill “aah” suggests pain; and a calm, airy and short “aah” could be a moment of realisation.
Similarly, movies and television shows use sound to set the tone of the scene through the background sounds, choice of instrument, pitch etc. This leaves the viewer with an expectation as to what they should anticipate will happen next in the scene. So when someone walks through a dark hallway, towards a door, as the floorboard creaks, and the music fades drawing the viewer’s attention to every little sound, a sudden a loud shriek shifts the viewer to the edge of the seat, trying to guess what might exist at the other end of the door.
When applying it to folk arts, the pitch and tonality of performances enable practitioners to create profound meaning and instantly connect through the medium of sound. This connection of detailing factors beyond the realm of lyrics sets the tonality of the performance. Musical instruments, pitch and pace at which the lyrics are performed, build the atmosphere of the story taking place and correspond to the psyche of the characters in the performance. It sheds light on their lives and inner turmoil, thus helping the audience discern character reactions to circumstances.
For instance, in dance drama art forms, a heightening of percussion instruments would suggest elevating tension in the scene, or a sudden switch from a single singer to a chorus creates a hypnotic effect, further built by repetition of phrases.
‘Studies around languages and dialects have often highlighted the relation between the pace and tonality in which people speak and the kind of geography they inhabit. For instance, the dialect spoken by someone who lives by the sea is tied to the rhythm of the waves.’
Cultural Nuances of Sound, Speech and Music
The choice of sounds, tunes and instruments used in our lives and by extension in our arts is intentional. It leaves us with clues as to what kind of landscape the artform is hailing from, who the performer is and their intention of communicating. Music sets the mood for the communication. Studies around languages and dialects have often highlighted the relation between the pace and tonality in which people speak and the kind of geography they inhabit. For instance, the dialect spoken by someone who lives by the sea is tied to the rhythm of the waves. In short, your landscape has an influence on your language; and thereby it has an influence on the artforms, practices and customs that emerge.
The aural aspects that play out in folk arts and cultural practices is often overlooked. Have you wondered why lullabies are designed to be sung in a certain slow-rhythmic fashion? Why do certain songs have a fast pace while others are slower? Beyond the obvious shift in mood, are there any other factors in play? Today, we are going to take a moment to look at some of those factors.
Whistles and Waves: Tunes of Topography
The topography we inhabit often comes with challenges. In a mountainous region calling out to your friend staying on an opposite cliff might prove to be exasperating. The prospect of a dramatic call out to your friend with their name echoing thrice seems fun, but it is far from practical. Echo can create confusions and delay in communication, and a secret you might like to quickly share to your friend on the other cliff risks being the center of attraction in undesired corners of the region.
Similarly, while rowing a boat against the current, singing a catchy Bollywood song might not improve morale to brave against challenges posed by mighty nature. Our customs, art forms, songs and tunes are designed observing that we are commingled with the environment, the challenges our environment poses and the human responses to the same.
In Meghalaya’s Kongthong village (known as India’s “Singing Village”), villagers often use musical notes and whistles to communicate with one another- a practice which is passed down from generation to generation. Newborns here are assigned a regular name and a distinct melodious tune which works similar to a nickname. The difference being, unlike nicknames, the tunes assigned tend to be unique. The practice called Jingrawei Lawbei doesn’t consist of words, rather trilling whistles; much similar to the sound of birds. The tune assigned has short and long versions which are used based on the situation. A short version of the tune is used when both communicators tend to be in the same vicinity; while a longer one is preferred when in a forest or mountainous region.
The practice is carried out as a symbol binding oneself to their ancestral roots. This practice is also believed to guard against spirits in the forest and river as they find it difficult to differentiate from bird sounds. This practice not only makes communication easier in mountainous terrains but also creates a distinct identity which is difficult to replicate, thus making it a celebration of Khasi tradition and culture.
Similarly, Kerala’s Vanji Pattu (translates to Boat Song), sung by boatmen, typically during boat races, known as Vallamkali. As they power to row against the wave, they integrate the rhythm of waves in its lyrical composition and chorus to create a sense of union and camaraderie. The songs are metered based on nathonnatha vritham, where the lines are divided into 8 parts with 2 alphabets each, almost matching the pace of the water current. And the singing style is designed to help trace the course of the journey undertaken collectively towards the destination.
Through the slow but steadily rising pace of the song, the constraints posed by the waves are communicated. The boatmens’ collective repetition of lyrics, heightens morale and builds up the idea that if they work as a collective, they shall overcome tides ahead. The song soon turns fast paced, as men rhythmically row their boat, singing at the top of their lungs in excitement as they move closer to the destination, like in the excerpt below:
“Kuttanadan Punjayile
Thai Thai Thaka Thai Thai Thom
Kochu Penne Kuyilale
Thithithara Thithai Thai
Kottu Venam Kuzhal Venam
Kurava Venam
Thithithara Thithithai
Thithai Thithai Thaka Thai
Varavelkanalu Venam
Kodi Thoranangal Venam
Vijayashree Laalitharai
Varunnu Njangal
Thithithara Thithithai
Thithai Thithai Thaka Thai”
{Translation of lyrical component:
“O young girl of Kuttanadu who resembles a cuckoo,
We would like you to welcome us with drums,
horns and ullulations,
Welcome us with flags and decorations,
For we come as glorious victors”.
“Thithithara thithithai” stanzas are rhythmic chorus}
This practice is a testament to the two kinds of interconnectedness- one between nature and human, and the other, of community within humankind that empowers them to face any challenge lying before them.
Fields, Deserts and Kitchen: Tunes of Routine
Our day to day lives are rhythmic. There is a rhythm to our walk, the way we talk, the way we complete our day to day tasks. A rhythm so closely knit into our lives that our brains don’t treat it as tunes and music, unless we change our perspective to see it thus. For instance, think about the many montage scenes in movies, shows and advertisements- all of a sudden all actions seem systematic and rhythmic. Which invites us to the question: Does the rhythm of routine activities slip into our customs, practices, folk songs and performances?
The answer is a simple yes. Think of the times when you matched the pace of your claps to your friends’ as you cheered on for a classmate during a sports meet, or, while singing “Happy Birthday” just because it felt right. Think of all those times when you chose to sing a particular song just because it matched the rhythm of what you were doing.
Work songs from across the country carry within them the same rigour to express one’s actions, thoughts, worries and desires in the rhythm of quotidian activities. For instance, Koythu Pattu or Harvest songs from Kerala are sung while harvesting the yield in the rhythm produced by the sickle cutting the plants. The content of the song sheds light on the workers’ lives, observations, aspirations and sense of oneness against all odds.
“Azhakonnumillelum, panamonnumillelum,
Nadinte nattarin sneham kando?
Nattuchaveyilaththum vayalinte orathu
Onnichu koodiya sneham kando?”
{Translation: “Though we aren’t beautiful, though we are poor
Do you see the love showered by the people of this land?
Do you see their love for us?
They have joined us in the field even in the scorching afternoon heat”.}
Ovi, a folk song format popular in Maharashtra and Goa, features four line stanzas paced to match the pace of grinding. The song becomes a space for women to express their woes, speak their mind and resist a system trying to invisibilise their lives and efforts. The following is a translation of an ovi about the invisible labour of women documented in The Grandmill Songs Project by PARI.
“Wet wood burns in the kindled fire
How much can I work? Nobody cares for it in my parents’ home
Wet wood burns in the kindled fire
A woman may toil and toil, but her work has no value.”
Another example is Rajasthan’s Panihari, which is paced to the rhythm of women carrying pots of water across the desert to their homes braving the cruel desert heat.
These songs hailing from different kinds of topography and tied to different activities still have some features in common. The tunes and narratives are very intimate; the tunes which are pretty much the tune of the singer’s day to day life becomes a medium to portray and pass on their lives, hopes, desires and more to the next generation. It sheds light into the society they are a part of and the expectations it places on them. A lot of them also tend to shed light into a gendered experience of navigating life and desires like in the Panihari lyrics mentioned below.
“Auran re kaajal tikiya e pinhari ji e lo, o mirga naini ji e lo,
tharoda feeka feeka nain, ba-la-jo
Auran ra parnya ghar base e pinhari ji e lo,
o mirga naini ji e lo, Mharoda base re pardes, ba-la-jo”
{Translation:
Addressing a beautiful woman who has dazzling eyes, the narrator asks that other Paniharis are applying cosmetics like kajal and Tikka to look beautiful, but why is she not putting kajal on?
She replies that all the women are married and living with their husbands. However, my husband is living abroad because of which I don’t apply Kajal.}
The aural techniques associated with folk arts and customs play a central role in creating resonance, unity and harmony. Its aspects like pace, tune, collective singing and integration of natural and routine soundscapes place an emphasis on how these experiences, thoughts and concerns cannot be dismissed as a standalone piece or a fictional narrative but rather a representation of a collective experience as a document of collective memory.
As the pace of our lives is changing , so we are adapting to changing times and consequently, it changes our associations with sounds as well. Factors like migration, replacement of close-knit communities and group-based activities, and changes in our environment have resulted in a decline of many such practices. While few of these art forms manage to be in practice due to its associations with local festivities, others are in a steady decline due to lack of practitioners and lack of documentation. The rhythm of our lives are closely knit to our need to preserve or create folk conventions. They are a reminder of our relationship to nature, our surroundings, and society.
BIO: Priyanandana A N is in a constant pursuit for stories that come in any shape of form- be it stories, poems, photos, ads, films or day to day snippets of conversations. She is also enthusiastic to cook up stories, poems and scripts of her own. She has completed her Masters in MA Mass Communication from AJK Mass Communication Research Centre, Jamia Millia Islamia, Delhi.
References
1. Keralathile Naadankalakal by Dr Sasidharan Clary
2. Noottandulal Nilaninnirunna Nammude Karshika Samskriti by K Vishwam
3. Vanjipattu: Eenavum Thaalavum by Kainakari Surendran
4. South China Morning post report on India’s whistling village: https://youtu.be/PElAzJ6ApEw?si=bPvB2_FUuHdL_Ci9
5. CCRT OFFICIAL CHANNEL. (2020, November 20). CCRT – Documentary #Film ” My Name is Eeoow” from the archives of CCRT produced in 2016 [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jx7ZuWP_OrM
6. “The Grindmill Songs Project: All Stories so Far.” Ruralindiaonline.org, 2019, ruralindiaonline.org/article/gsp-masterpage.