Strained tunes: Preserving Thanjavur's veena heritage

 The air is filled with chiseling sounds and the smell of paints and polishes wafts out of an old building located at the end of a narrow street, a few kilometres away from the famous Thanjavur Brihadeeshwarar temple. As we get closer to the building, we see a handful of craftsmen immersed in their work — in the courtyard, a man cuts big chunks of wood into small pieces; inside the hall, three octogenarians are busy carving wood, sketching out a picture of goddess Saraswati on a round wooden piece and another is into polishing work.

Stocked wood pieces, golden papers, and paints are strewn on the floor. Finished and unfinished veena lined up inside a small room beside the hall seem to be vying for space. Photos depicting a few Hindu gods are fixed to the walls of the main hall along with some framed certificates. Next to it is the photo of a man who was bestowed with a few district and state awards and a D.Lit for his contribution to the field of making the highly sought-after handcrafted Thanjavur veenas, that could find a place in the Geographical Indication Registry in 2013.

The same person in the photo, Dr V Chinnappa, is standing beside us donning a green lungi and a white baniyan, and holding an unfinished veena. He has been into veena making for the past 40 years. His forefathers, who had come to Thanjavur a century ago and involved in the work since then had passed on the craft to the generations thereafter. Earlier, many families were involved in the work, but now the number has been reduced to just 100.

Art of making veena

The Thanjavur veena or Saraswati veena, which is mostly used in south India, is different in appearance from the Rudra veena , usually seen in the northern part of the country. The main parts of a veena consist of a peg box (with birdas), a fingerboard (dandi), and a main resonator (kudam). Each veena is made from jackwood which is carved, shaped, polished, and finally assembled.

These types are called joint veenas which are most commonly used by veena artists (vainikas). Whereas in an Ekantha veena, all the main parts are carved out from a single log of wood. A finished wooden veenaweighs around 10 kg. Thanjavur handcrafted veena stands out from the rest for its wood and sound quality.

The wood used for making veena should be at least more than 30 years old, the older the wood the better the sound quality, says Chinnappa. He has been running three workshops in the district, managing a few dedicated workers. Earlier, tonnes of wood were procured from Thanjavur itself but now it is mainly procured from Panruti near Neyveli in Cuddalore district.

“Jackwood from Panruti is of the best quality as it has less fibre content, whereas jackwood from Kerala has more fibre content which is not ideal to make the instrument. Tonnes of wood are procured from retailers in Panruti and transported to our workshops in Thanjavur. It is then cut and carved into different parts. All the work, including the final artwork, is done by skilled artisans. In the final stage, it is assembled into a full veena ready for sale,” says Chinnappa. He recalls the arduous journey to get the GI tag for his veena.

The price of a joint veena at Chinnappa’s workshop starts at `29,000 and sometimes it may go up to `1 lakh, depending on the quality of the wood used in its making. Normally, it takes around 25 days to finish the work of a single veena. Whereas, an Ekantha veena is carved out of a single log of wood (sometimes even 150-200 years old) which weighs around two tonnes. It requires around 40 days to finish a single piece of Ekantha veena. Therefore, the price is a bit higher and comes around Rs 40,000-Rs 1,00,000. The cost may vary depending on the artwork on the kudam and other parts of the instrument.

Chinnappa knows all the intricate work involved in the great heritage of veena making. “We are not educated but we have been into this work for many years. We don’t know how to play a veena but we know how to tune one. We acquired all these skills by hearing and through practice. The knowledge has been passed on to our generation by our forefathers and we are trying to keep this tradition alive,” says a proud Chinnappa.

He has been supplying veenas to customers abroad, in cities like Bengaluru and Hyderabad, and to some dealers in Kerala. His team is currently working on a bulk order of 100 veenas that have to be supplied to Hyderabad and 50 veenas to be exported to Canada. He also claims to have a handful of high-profile veena artistes as his customers. Nowadays, Madhura veenas are also in high demand as they are handy and mostly used in music concerts by artistes. His team is now working on an order from a known veena artiste based in Hyderabad. Chinnappa’s son, a graduate, is helping him with the online marketing part.

Challenges ahead

Chinnappa, now 63, is worried a lot about carrying on this work and passing it on to the next generation. He says the community of artisans making these graceful and melodious instruments is struggling to meet ends. Though there is a growing demand for the instrument, the supply side is not an easy task. They face space limitations as their workshop is almost in ruin. They demand a larger workspace as huge wood pieces have to be cut and stored inside a safe place, away from humid conditions.

“My periyappa (uncle) is now 86 years old. He, along with my father and his younger brother, have been into veena-making for more than half a century. The upcoming generation is not so keen to take up this work as they see it unprofitable. The work of a single veena involves labour of many skilled artisans as each part is made exclusively. They have to be paid around `500-`1,000 daily, depending on their work. We also face labour shortage. On top of that, we have to pay `20,000 monthly rent for this old building. We have been requesting the government to provide us with a better space to carry out our work,” says Chinnappa, who lives in a rented house with his family.

As the instrument requires intricate craftsmanship of skilled artisans, they have to be paid reasonably for their dedication and hardwork. For carving and fret work each gets paid `1,500, whereas for making birdai (pegs) and kudam, an artisan gets `500 per piece. Procuring wood, paying salaries to the workers and monthly rent of workshops along with house rent are giving Chinnappa a tough time. Still, he says, it is really gratifying for him to continue the tradition passed on to them by the forefathers and what they want is the support from the state government to keep it alive.

“If you visit next time, you may not find us at this place. We have to shift to a safer place soon as this building is too old to continue our work. We have been requesting the Tamil Nadu government to provide us with a better place or make arrangements to do our work without any hassle. Though some of the political leaders paid a visit to our workshops after we won a few awards, they haven’t responded to our requests so far. We expect immediate intervention from the state government so that we can carry on our work with pride,” says Chinnappa.

Call for government support

This is not the lone story of a Chinnappa. He is just a representative of many artisans who are involved in the work in and around Thanjavur, and Kumbakonam and facing similar issues. Most of them, who are now aged, are rooted in their tradition and do not possess skills for any other sort of work. They are living in dilapidated buildings on small streets devoid of better living conditions and are struggling to make ends meet.

They are earning a meager amount for their strenuous work and are often exploited by the middlemen who buy veenas for a nominal price from them and sell them for a much higher price in the markets, thus making huge profits. These artisans, who are not entitled to any kind of pension or financial assistance, pin their hopes on the state government. They have all the right to lead a better life and to keep this tradition alive with all its grace and glory, but what they urgently need is the government’s support.

Witten by Nidhi Chandran