He was the violin maestro of his day. A brilliant musician, he blazed a trail when he designed a seven-stringed violin. Legendary Carnatic musician Maharajapuram Viswanatha Iyer called him ‘Soundaiah', because his silky touch coaxed charming music out of the violin. During his long and successful career, he had accompanied many famous musicians. As a disciple he had accompanied his revered guru Bidaram Krishnappa, the celebrated musician of the princely Mysore State, to a small town for a concert. Chowdaiah was then not so well known and the guru and sishya were put up at a rich man's guesthouse. Early in the morning, visitors milled around the verandah. Krishnappa, then at the peak of his fame, began to get ready to receive the visitors. To his surprise, he soon learnt that the crowd was waiting not for him but for his disciple, Chowdaiah. The senior musician at once realised that a star was in the making!
Thirimaguda Chowdaiah was born in 1895 into a family of agriculturists. Apart from farming, his father, Agastheeswara Gowda, also ran a small business. Sundarambika, his mother, was a pious and generous lady. The future violin wizard was one of nine children. It was a leisurely age and Chowdaiah took life easy as a child. His parents sent him to the village school where students sat on a thinnai of a house. Chowdaiah made no progress with studies and his parents decided to teach him music. After initial tutelage under an uncle, Chowdaiah was sent to Bidaram Krishnappa - who lived in Mysore - for further training. At that time Chowdaiah was 14 years going on 15.
Bidaram Krishnappa (1869-1931), a leading musician of Mysore, had imbibed the art at the feet of the famous Karur Ramaswami and the legendary ‘Veena' Seshanna. True to the Mysore tradition, Krishnappa performed concerts dressed in buttoned-up coat, laced turban and gold plated pocket watch (known as ‘fob' watch).
Charmed rasikas
During 1926, Chowdaiah had the opportunity of performing in Madras as an accompanist of the legendary Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar. Chowdaiah's spectacular performance charmed the rasikas so much so that he became the toast of the town.
During the early decades of the 20th century, there were no microphones to magnify the sound and musicians had to depend solely on their voices. In order to improve the reachand melody of the violin, Chowdaiah worked hard on a new design and came out with a seven string one, which became his ‘trademark' and his bowing, his ‘signature'. As 1930s drew to an end, Chowdaiah became a household name in south India. The Maharaja of Mysore conferred on him the privilege of being the ‘Asthana Vidwan.' As the 1940s dawned, Chowdaiah was drawn to the new medium of ‘talking motion pictures.' Movies began to talk Kannada in 1934 with Y.V. Rao's ‘Sathi Sulochana.' Chowdaiah was tempted to try his hand in films. By now he was fairly prosperous, and felt that he could be involved in movie-making about which he knew nothing.
Since he was cautious, he acquired partners such as the noted Kannada comedian and theatre person K. Hiranaiah, and the film was named ‘Vani' (1943). Chowdaiah played the hero and the cast included Bellary Lalitha, Bellary Ratnamala, and the well-known Kannada character actor ‘Musiri' Krishnamurthi. He also introduced a pretty newcomer, Pandari Bai! It was written and directed by Hiranaiah and M. N. Gopal. Chowdaiah of course, composed the music.
An important aspect of ‘Vani' was the on-screen appearance of a legend, Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavathar. ‘Chembai' had a poor opinion of cinema and hardly saw films. But Chowdaiah managed to persuade Chembai.
The movie had a scene in which Chembai performed accompanied by Chowdaiah and the mridangam was played by another legend, Palakkad T. S. Mani Iyer. Chowdaiah composed a song, ‘Nikihila Paapa Vilasini' in Shanmughapriya, which was rendered by Chembai in his usual lively and virile style. The song was shot at the Chembai village where a large crowd gathered to watch the proceedings, a novelty in those days. It was a long reel and its on-screen running time was over 10 minutes. It was a musical treat. Chowdaiah offered Chembai a fee of Rs 5000, which he refused to touch. In 1943 it was quite a handsome sum. But Chembai felt it was ill-gotten money. However, after much cajoling by Chowdaiah and friends, he donated the money to the Parthasarathyswami temple at his village.
‘Vani' was about a musician, his life, trials, tensions and relationships. Chowdaiah also sang in the film besides playing the violin. However ‘Vani' was not a success and was a heavy loss for the producers. But it found a permanent place in Kannada Cinema, because of historical interest.
Chowdaiah was the recipient of many awards and titles. He was a member of the Mysore Legislative Council for his contribution to music. He also received awards from the Central Government and in 1955, he received ‘Sangita Kalanidhi' from the Music Academy, Madras.
In a chat with this writer Maharajapuram said, “Fellows like me will render an alapana for hours and he will get thunderous claps with his finishing strokes on the violin! Though both of us were very good friends, somehow I felt nervous having him in a ‘kutcheri' with me.”
