The Voice Of The Veena

What strikes you when you listen to Jayanthi Kumaresh’s veena for the first time is the quality of its unique tone. Rich, rounded, full bodied, the tone is pure and melodic, devoid of metallic or wooden sounds.

Like the full throated human voice, it seamlessly traverses three-and-a-half octaves. Has she modified the instrument in some manner like U. Shrinivas did to his mandolin? Or like Mali, who experimented with the flute to produce a richer tone? T.N. Rajarathnam is said to have chosen the longer and larger bari nayanam in lieu of the shorter and smaller timiri variety to produce his immortal strains. Jayanthi denies any modification. She attributes the tonal quality to the advanced and sophisticated technology in amplification. That cannot be all of it. Veenas are generally observed to have a weak sound, sometimes hollow, sometimes with a faint echo and occasionally with the extraneous rasping of the finger over the frets. Jayanthi’s veena has none of these blemishes and possesses a distinct voice that makes its own statement.

The other striking factor is the manner she plays the veena. Veena Balachandar classified veena playing as masculine and feminine, regardless of whether it was played by male or female. We could associate strong, powerful and authoritative playing as masculine, and the subdued, graceful and subtle as the feminine—more or less parallel to the tandava and lasya in dance. Jayanthi’s versatile playing can probably be described as “ardhanari”—a happy combination of the strength of the masculine and the grace of the feminine.