The one and only Master
They all called him Master. If someone spoke of the Master, everyone knew they were referring to the unique musician Premasiri Khemadasa.
When he closed his eyes forever on 24 October 2008, Sri Lanka lost a man of exceptional talent. He was an innovator never afraid to try something new. He was most critical of what was being turned out in the name of music in the country. He was most unhappy with the way music was being taught in schools. Along with his criticism he showed how music could be taught or created.
“Send all the music teachers home but continue to pay them. Otherwise it’s not fair. They must live. But let them not come to schools and start teaching. I will find teachers who can do the job properly,” he once said.
Making music a meaningful subject
He believed the art of teaching music to children was archaic. The teachers themselves did not know what music meant, he said. When he was given a high post in the National Institute of Education he wanted to change the curriculum to make music a meaningful subject for students to learn.
“For the first time in my life I got a salary. I was given an official car as well. But I couldn’t do a job of work in that bureaucratic setup. No one was accepting change. So I quit,” he later said.
To maestro Khemadasa, music is in roots of the rhythms of what people speak. That rhythm varies in different regions in the country where the same idiom may be spoken in different tones. The music should develop out of these rhythms and should not be thrust upon through external forces.
To him the voice was the most important element not musical instruments. That is why he concentrated so much on voice training to produce the music. In some of his compositions there were no words at all. It was sound brought out in different tones. Most could not grasp his approach.
“Ordinary people are able to appreciate my music more than the so-called educated people who only pretend to know,” he used to say.
“I just love music. I am so passionate about it.”
Ambition of unearthing talent
Maestro Khemadasa had one ambition – to unearth the talent that our youth from the remotest areas possessed. “You can’t select talent in music on O-level and A-level results. You have to observe carefully whether he or she had the right voice and the right temperament,” he pointed out. And the Master had the knack to pick the right ones. That’s how he has produced a fine set of young singers who are eternally grateful to him for showing them the right path.
“We have voices that can compete at the Sydney Opera House – voices from Anuradhapura who can perform in Vienna,” he once told me after I listened to a rehearsal of an opera at the BMICH open car park where he found a little shade in a garage to train his pupils.
He didn’t bother where he trained them so long as he had a little space. He would pick a little table, keep his harmonium on it, drag a chair from somewhere, throw his slippers away, sit on the chair and begin. True he sometimes lost his temper and threatened to stop and go. However, he soon returned because he loved music and he wanted to be perfect.
“When I see such talent amongst the rural folk, my urge is to develop that talent. That is a great service I could offer. So I brought them to Colombo, kept them and fed them and trained them,” he told me. He knew they didn’t have the resources to study music. To him it was a great service.
“When I go up to the piano, before I started I had to reflect whether I had used my fingers the previous day on a good deed – to help someone even in a small way. Maybe to feed a dog or a cat,” he once said in an interview.
I knew the Maestro for four decades. From the day I first met him when he walked into the Observer features room to brief me on a new opera, ‘The Sea’, which he was presenting, I always noticed him to be in a hurry. He was in a hurry to achieve something, to innovate, to rehearse, to deliver. And he did. Possibly that was the secret of his success. In the process, he was conscious of the need to maintain the highest quality.
Operatic work
The youngest of a low-income level family of 13 living in Talpitiya, Wadduwa, the Master was never shy to talk about the frugal life they led.
“We were poor. We had a hard time. I deeply loved my mother and was devoted to her. It was to pay homage to her that I created the opera ‘Mother of my Time’. She was then 90. I told her I will send a car to bring her to Colombo. I wanted her to be the chief guest at the inaugural show,” he once reminisced.
A day or two before the opera was to be performed he got a message asking him to come home as soon as possible. As he entered the premises he knew the news was not good.
“I smelt and felt that my mother was no more. I attended to her final rights and got back to Colombo. I had the show with the chair meant for her in the front row vacant.”
A 50-member orchestra played at the Lionel Wendt that evening with an empty seat right in front.
He introduced opera to Sinhala audiences.
Apart from the early operas ‘Muhuda’, ‘Mage Kaalayemauni’ and ‘Sinhala Avurudda’, his later creations, ‘Manaavila’, ‘Doramadalawa’, ‘Sondura Vamadasi’ and ‘Agni’, were greatly appreciated. ‘Pirinivan Mangallaya’, based on the passing away of the Buddha, was yet another of his experiments when the audiences were introduced to a cantata.
New brand of contemporary Sri Lankan music
Maestro Khemadasa was not confined to any particular form of music. He blended oriental and Western music to produce a totally new brand of contemporary Sri Lankan music.
He attracted top Western artistes to play under his baton. In early performances, Douglas Ferdinand led the orchestra. Lakshman Joseph de Saram who played regularly in the Khemadasa orchestra, paying a tribute to the Master, wrote: “Premasiri Khemadasa stands out with his remarkable talent, uncompromising artistic integrity and undeniable ‘relevance’ to the cultural avant-garde of Sri Lanka. Today, he is deservedly hailed as a national icon.”
I worked closely with him in at least two musical presentations sponsored by CTC where I was publicity manager. One was ‘Sangita Sanvada’ (Dialogue with a Composer), where he conducted a 30-member orchestra and 10 singers, and the other was ‘Handunagaththoth Oba Ma’ (Khemadasa in Concert). It was a pleasure watching him striving to achieve excellence in his work. Until the last minute, he would go on making improvements.
Revolutionised Sinhala film music
The Master revolutionised Sinhala film music. He has left behind a wealth of his creations showing the transformation of film music ever since he came on the scene. The CD ‘Golu Hadawathin Thunveni Yamayata’ is a fine example of his ability to add something extra to a cinematic creation. When he got a screenplay he would look for an opening where he could innovate. The background music of ‘Golu Hadawatha’ convinced Dr. Lester James Peries he had found the right composer.
When he started on ‘Nidhanaya’, the Master was the obvious choice to create the right mood for an intriguing story. The music score won the Critics’ Award that year and would have contributed in no small measure for the selection of ‘Nidhanaya’ as the best Sinhala film produced in the first 50 years of Sinhala cinema.
Young dramatist/filmmaker Jayantha Chandrasiri, who himself is not afraid to tread on fresh ground, always used the Master to create music for his teledramas, stage dramas and films. The music in the teledrama series ‘Dandubasnamaya’ set the trend for the ones that followed.
Following the highly-acclaimed score in ‘Bambaru Avith’ as early as 1978, Dharmasena Pathiraja’s pick was the Master when he moved on to the tele scene. Dharmasiri Bandaranayake’s ‘Hansa Vilkak’ and ‘Thunveni Yamaya’ were another two examples of innovative film scores. The list goes on.
Gratitude to the guru
Six years ago when his remains were being cremated at Independence Square, students paid tribute to the Master by singing excerpts from ‘Pirinivan Mangalyaya’ with tears flowing down their cheeks. Such was their gratitude to the guru who spent his time and energy to help them blossom out as talented Sri Lankan youth in music.
We cannot forget the Master who has given us much and made our lives brighter with his fabulous creations.
