In retrospect – Music and Dance in my life

By Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

Music and dance charts my life from its early days. The very first song I was taught to sing, as a skinny kid of six, was the national anthem for Ceylon. It was for the forthcoming Independence Day celebrations on February 4, 1948. I sang it with a group of children at school. Then I was far too young to appreciate the meaning of the poignant lyrics and the nuances of the appealing melody. The true significance of the event was lost in the visual revelry and jubilation. Just like the memorable Day, this brilliant composition by Ananda Samarakoon will be remembered and treasured forever.

My generation were fortunate to have spent our childhood in the immediate aftermath of independence. We were now out of the shackles of colonial rule. One hundred and thirty three years of British rule had left an indelible mark on Ceylonese society. We emulated the British. Their ways infiltrated every aspect of the lives of the privileged class. In the early years that followed we enjoyed the best of both worlds. There was law and order. Independence of the judiciary was sacrosanct. Society was free of unconcealed corruption. We were the envy of the world.

When I was growing up what I saw around me had a tremendous and lasting impression on my life. My parents were in Kegalle in the early 1950’s. There were many British “up country” Planters still around. The Planters’ Club was the hub for all social events in the district. This was the watering hole for the British planters and for our own Brown Sahibs. Those were the days of formal and dignified ballroom dancing. The fox trots, quick steps and waltzes were the dances in vogue. Dancing on Saturday nights kept the members entertained. These close encounters fuelled by booze in a dimly lit dance hall often gave rise to malicious gossip and mischievous innuendo. I was merely an innocent witness.

My father was a government servant and was transferred every four years. He served his time far away from Colombo. My childhood was spent in rural Nugegoda in the early 1950’s in a modest unostentatious house owned by my grandparents. I had several cousins for company. This was like a boarding house without the strict regimentation. Growing up together our lives were littered with lots of laughter and some tears. Evenings were great fun. My aunt played the guitar and made us sing the Sinhala music of the period. We also sang the popular European operatic arias and Neapolitan favourites like Santa Lucia. We entertained the visitors with our singing and loved the applause and the sweets that followed.

In those days it was the radio that provided the entertainment. Radio Ceylon and its commercial arm popularised both Ceylonese and Western music. Lama Pitiya was one of my earliest recollections of a Sinhala children’s program. This was brilliantly presented by Karunaratne Abeysekera. There were plenty of stories and music. Artistes like Indrani Wijebandara and Chandra Cabraal produced wonderful entertainment. The Radio Ceylon English service too had some fine announcers who brought the music of that era to life. Hit Parade and Sunday Choice had an enormous following.

When I was at Wesley College my love of music prevailed. I joined the school choir. Then much of it were hymns at Sunday school and at church. They were solemn pieces of music with fine old melodies. There was music for every human event from cradle to grave. Carol Services during Christmas were a colourful event in the school calendar. Singing together as a group was fun and this promoted lasting friendships. We formed barbershop quartets singing “African American spirituals” in four-part harmony. We performed Operettas at school. They were immensely exciting times.

As teenagers, our generation became part of the music revolution of the mid 1950’s. The slow music of the crooners like Bing Crosby gave way to the intoxicating rhythm and the stirring beat of Bill Haley and the Comets. I well remember seeing Rock Around the Clock at the Savoy. The music was rousing and electrifying. I watched in awe and amazement the craze that unfolded amongst teenagers in Colombo. Every Tuesday night the radio programme called the “Hit Parade” played the most popular music of the week and we all gathered round the Rediffusion set.

When the famous leader of an American Jazz band, Duke Ellington, visited Ceylon in 1955 he played in an airport hangar in Ratmalana. The school took us for this thrilling performance. I remember him play that magical piece “The syncopated clock”. It was in 1956 the film “High Society” with Louis Armstrong and Frank Sinatra brought jazz into my life giving it a new dimension. Dixieland Jazz began in New Orleans. It was characterised by the freedom of improvisations. The strumming of the banjos gave Dixie that distinctive style and feel.

In my teenage years parental influence was overpowering. It was not until I entered the Faculty of Medicine that I saw freedom. The excitement and the pleasure of dancing has no equal. The pounding rhythms drove us all into a frenzy. Being so close to female company in such subdued lighting heightened our sexual desires and sent our pulse racing. It was at University I learnt to combine the rhythmic music and the twirl and swirl of the gyratory dancing. The University calendar had many dances held at its halls in Reid Avenue. It was here the students showed off their ability to dance. Alcohol provided the confidence and lubricated the joints while the hormones did the rest. There was the inevitable baila session to end the night. They were wonderfully exciting years.

In the Faculty of Medicine exams came and went with monotonous regularity and soon it was all over. As hospital interns, onerous on-calls and busy schedules filled our days and nights. I was then working in Kurunegala. There were gatherings and dances at the Social Clubs. Many parties were held in the House Officers Quarters. We entertained ourselves in the evenings with bawdy songs and naughty limericks to find release from the tensions of day.

In the 1950’s and 60’s the music of Jim Reeves, Elvis Presley and Cliff Richards hogged the airwaves. They were the heady days of our youth. The Beatles with their thunderous drums, screaming vocals and the blistering guitars kept our feet tapping. I remember them for their irresistible irreverence. The ballads too made a return. This rather soulful music was made popular by Englebert Humperdink and Tom Jones.

After emigrating to the UK, family and career took precedence and dancing went on the back-burner. There were parties and dances in hospital during Christmas and on special occasions when it was mostly sedate and proper. However my love of music remained strong. I listened to the old Sinhala songs and also the Western music of the day of Eric Clapton and David Bowie.

With the passage of years, I gradually moved away from the noise and mayhem of loud music. Classical music became my first love. After retirement I moved back to the big city. London is the Mecca for music lovers. Now I live 20 minutes walk away from the Royal Academy of Music and easy striking distance of the Royal Albert Hall and the Royal Festival Hall. These venues have classical music events everyday. Music now fills my life and I have no words to describe the peace and contentment I feel.

Since its origins in 15th Century Italy, Ballet has captured the imagination of audiences worldwide. Breath-taking choreography and graceful movements make it so pleasing to watch. I see most ballets on TV but see some of them live in London. Rudolph Nureyev and Margot Fonteyn are recognised as the best dances of the 20th century. Much has been written about their sad lives and their tragic deaths away from the spotlight.

The Opera is not for everyone. Much of the old operas are in Italian and the stories are hard to follow. They require much homework to read up about the story. Operas of Puccini and Verdi are popular for their fine music. Georges Bizet’s “The Pearl Fishers” is set in ancient Ceylon. Although not as famous as “Carmen” which he wrote 10 years later I like the former for its connection to my homeland.

Retirement gave me the time to travel the world. One of the best trips was to South America. Watching the Tango danced by professionals in El Viejo Almacén in Buenos Aires, Argentina was simply a magical experience. The Tango is a mesmerizingly beautiful dance. Its elaborate movements relate a story. The tango music is a mix of Spanish, African and South American rhythms that became popular in the 19th century. This music and the dance initially began in brothels and its movements show the titillations of the ladies and the fire in the belly of their clients. Soon the Tango caught the imaginations of the people and began to be accepted by high society in Buenos Aires.

Despite the 42 years in exile, I had brought with me memories of life in old Ceylon. Listening to the music from back home is always an emotional journey and a reminder of those places and the people. The music of Sunil Santha, Chitra and Somapala from my childood days in Nugegoda have a certain timeless quality. Then CT Fernando, Sanath Nandasiri, Amaradeva and Victor Ratnayake from those later years will always be with me. When I was young, Hindi music was ever present in the tea boutiques and roadside cafes all over Colombo. It was my grandfather who introduced me to Hindi films.

I still own a fine collection of Lata Mangheskar, Mohammed Rafi and Asha Bhosle songs to remind me of those years in Sri Lanka. I was an avid filmgoer in my youth and saw many of the Sinhala films right from the old BAW Jayamanne’s “Broken Promise” and “Kela Handa” to the later films of Lester James Peiris. Their music have a special appeal and pride of place in my memory. Rukmani Devi and Mohideen Beig sang some unforgettable songs. Their haunting melodies and beautiful lyrics will always remain with me. Many of the old favourites have been revived by younger singers with a faster beat and modern instruments. I love these new versions. They indeed have breathed new life into the old.

Baila entered our mainstream culture when the likes of Wally Bastian, Patrick Denipitiya, MS Fernando and others made it popular by their live performances on stage and on radio. This music had tremendous appeal with its pulsating beat which is an invitation to dance. The love of baila with the lively music and the rhythmic dancing is a constant reminder of my medical student days.

Music and dance have been a large part of my life. It has given me immense pleasure and continues to do so today. On looking back I feel deeply sentimental of those years gone. I recall with nostalgia the innocence of those times without the endless scrutiny of social media. At last I have now learnt to acknowledge the foresight, prudence and judgement of my parents to keep me on the straight and narrow. They have given me a fine all round education to appreciate the good things in life. May their Souls Rest in Peace.