From harmony to harmony

A sense of the sublime:

by Aditha Dissanayake

It wasn't quite what you'd imagine. One of Sri Lanka's greatest and the most rebellious musicians ever, at work rehearsing his new opera, in a barren hall with un-plastered walls, a pair of worn out Bata slippers lying astray, a mug of plain tea to wet his parched throat, and confiding that "People should be given prizes for tolerating today's music.

Some of our singers perform on stage as though they are carrying a heavy load of pumpkins on their arms..."followed by a cheerful infectious guffaw.

We'll get back to the pumpkins later. For now let's put it this way: here is maestro Premasiri Khemadasa.

"Delete the zero when you write my age" he says chuckling again, obviously in a good mood in spite of having only recently left his hospital bed; happy to be back with his students to rehearse his new opera - Agni. 'I'll be seventy on the 25th of January' he confesses with a sigh - the cheerful grin vanishes, momentarily. "Mozart died a pauper" he says, and pauses, as if he too can hear Time's chariot wheels drawing closer. "This is the fate of everyone who rebels against the Old Order".

Then, he throws his head back and laughs again. Without a tinge of cynicism he voices the philosophy of an artiste who has forgiven mankind for their follies "It took two hundred years for Mozart's work to gain recognition as masterpieces.

Here in our country it will take at least a thousand years for a work of art to be treated as something valuable". Regaining his exuberant mood he begins to talk about Agni - incomparable with all his previous work - different in production, different in music, different in theme - it was with immense difficulty that he had found the right voices - from base to lesser soprano to soprano - for this work of art which seems to be on par with Verdi's best works.

At the rehearsals listening to Subuddhi and Vageesha as they sing "Siyoth daru ... me bime.. miya giye..." you realize all too well what Verdi meant by defining opera as voice, voice and voice. Close your eyes...time stops...the trees, the birds, the entire world seems to be listening...as the voices go on and on.. you feel your soul transcend to the sublime...

Snap. The singing stops and you are back in the bare hall, seated unsteadily on a plastic chair trying to capture the maestro's words as he describes the theme of Agni. "Agni is centered round a period when the world had no fire. All four seasons were cold. One god tries to help the people..." The conclusion?

Better find out for your selves when the opera opens to the public in February. Till then, those at rehearsals, Subuddhi, Vageesha, who had come all the way from Keenagahawela, Upeksha and Dilini, are keeping mum about the end of the story. Eric Illeappaarachchi, the librettist too gives no clues as to how he finishes the libretto.

But he does reveal that the legend of Prometheus is used as a background to the plot. Agni (fire) can be seen as the symbol of civilization and its discovery marks the end of the dark ages (the anduru kalpaya).

Through Agni maestro Khemadasa hopes to take the opera of the country a step further because he believes we must not stagnate doggedly accepting - "ours is the best culture in the world and we must not change it". Having revolutionized the Sinhala film music with Sanasuma Kothanada (1966) and film songs with Sulang Kurullo, he yet dismisses them as sand under his feet when compared with an opera.

"You can't create an opera in a day or two." explains the maestro. "An opera is the combination of immense patience, dedication, discipline and hard work - at least six hours of practising each day plus yoga exercises, meditation etc." But Agni is no ordinary opera. As with all his other works, here too maestro Khemadasa hopes to introduce a new form unique to himself.

This is so because he believes we must get out of the rut of doing the same thing everyday, especially when it comes to music. He recalls the old songs in the movies like Pem ralla nagi/gal thalle vade" and how the theme song in Bambaru Avith "Adaraya obamai...davasak da" had been embraced by film goers with gusto. "People like changes.

We as artistes must know how to make those changes". He states as an example an incident that had taken place at the market recently. Upon recognizing him, a vegetable vendor had made the following request" Sir, next time you come please bring me a cassette which has no songs on it" (sindu nathi cassette ekak genath denna. Conclusion.

People are tired of today's songs because they are totally meaningless because the structure, the lyrics, the facial expressions of the singer, are the same in every song. What we need are more revolutionists in the calibre of Maestro Khemadasa.

An artiste far ahead of his time, let the Sunday Observer wish this stormy revolutionary many more happy years ahead.

He deserves the best for brining to life the utmost range of the human mind - all its heights and depths...and for setting personality free in our music.

[email protected]