The interview which appears below was originally published in Nasreen Munni Kabir's book, A.R. Rahman: The Spirit of Music. ©The rights to this material are reserved to the owner. If you have any concerns or comments, please send an email to info@rahmaniac.com.
NMK: Do you remember how you came to meet Mani Ratnam? How old were you?
A.R.R.: How old was I? [laughs] I was about twenty-four. I had written a jingle for a Leo Coffee commercial that was produced by Mani Ratnam’s cousin sister Sharada and her husband Trilok. The commercial got an award. So they had a party to celebrate. It was there that I bumped into Mani Ratnam, whom we all affectionately, and with respect, call “Mani sir.” He is someone that I have always admired.
When I met him for the first time, I said: “Hi, how are you?” [laughs] I told him I wanted him to come to my studio and he answered: “Yeah, I’ll come one day.”
At that time, he was very close to the master composer Mr. Ilayaraja who composed all of Mani sir’s music. They had some differences and suddenly I got a call from Trilok saying Mani Ratnam was coming over and I should play him some music. I played him some tracks that had been composed in my free time: “Do you like this? Do you like that?” He was surprised that I had so much music all ready. All he said was: “Oh!” [smiles] He took some tapes and disappeared for a few days.
I thought he would hate my music. I didn’t think he would ever come back. Then he called and said: “I love a lot of stuff. Let’s meet and I’ll tell you what will work for me.” Which was great!
That’s how we started working on Roja. It was our first film together.
The Tamil version was released on 15 August 1992 and it was later dubbed into Hindi. It was a big hit. I didn’t know why people all over India liked the music of Roja as much as they did.
NMK: The music is striking and fresh. As you know it was listed among the ten best soundtracks of all time by Time magazine in 2005. I read on the Net that the popular Roja song “Dil hai chhota sa” was initially composed as a sad song. Is that the way it happened?
A.R.R.: Mani sir believed that it should be a happy song and it worked well in the film. He had the right instinct. I learned a lot from him.
I felt a kind of vacuum when the production of Roja ended and told Mani Ratnam: “I’m not going to work on another movie or with another director. Working with you has been so satisfying.” I didn’t really need to work because I had enough money composing jingles. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to do more film music.
Mani sir was very gracious and said: “No, your music should not be limited to my films or to me. It should be for the whole world.”
I changed my mind when I heard him say that. That’s when I understood that instead of complaining about how bad things are, it’s better to think: “I can make a change, make a difference. I can do this. I can do that.” The influence of spirituality on me helped me to think positively.
The success of Roja gave me a kind of status. People started to respect me. They started to take me seriously and listened to my suggestions. There were many others who just ignored me. [both laugh]
NMK: What did you have to unlearn from jingles when writing film music?
A.R.R.: A jingle is a snappy tune that must have instant appeal. Writing jingles requires a kind of superficial intelligence. Sometimes we need superficial intelligence and when we don’t, we must switch it off.
Many musicians approach music with a particular mindset. They usually think: “I like this chord, or that melodic line or this harmony.” Musicians have a tendency to think about the structure of a piece of music and often have preferences for certain musical phrases that come at different points. Composing jingles helped me to develop a linear way of thinking, even though jingles are short pieces.
When it comes to cinema, the director doesn’t think about the music alone. But imagines how it will combine with storytelling, how it will contrast images and scenes. He also thinks about the audience and how the music will come across to them.
Composing film songs and background music needs a different approach. That’s another thing I learned from Mani Ratnam. I couldn’t grasp it at the beginning. You could write the most interesting piece of music, but it’s of no use if it doesn’t enhance the film.
NMK: Can you elaborate? Is the difference primarily because film music is “seen” as well as heard?
A.R.R.: Yes, in a way. I once composed a lullaby called “Thee thee” and played it to Mani Ratnam for the 1993 Tamil film Thiruda Thiruda. He said: “Why don’t you combine it with the sound of a storm?” “But the melody will get spoilt.” “No, try it.”
We added a drum roll that sounded like a cyclone erupting and then subsiding — the music suddenly becomes tranquil and then rises again. The final song looked very exciting on the screen. For almost four years, I didn’t know if I liked it. Now I do. Directors like Mani Ratnam effectively combine contrasting musical moods. A musician doesn’t necessarily think like that.
I was learning and every new experience taught me something. Working with Mani sir made me think: “If he can do that, let’s see if I can too and get away with it.” So I started combining and contrasting one style of music with another in the same composition.
NMK: In an interview, Baz Luhrmann described your music very well: “I was amazed at the sheer diversity of styles: from swinging brass bands to triumphant anthems; from joyous pop to West End musicals. Whatever the style, A.R. Rahman’s music possesses a profound sense of humanity and spirit, qualities that inspire me the most.”
You’ve composed a vast range of music, but I’ve always thought that you give your best compositions to Mani Ratnam. Do you agree?
A.R.R.: That’s not entirely true. I try and give my all to each assignment. But if we can create the circumstances that allow music to emerge then we can get the best out of it.
NMK: When I hear you say that I am reminded of the famous last line in Billy Wilder’s Some Like it Hot: “Well, nobody’s perfect.”
A.R.R.: [smiles]
NMK: Coming back to your work with Mani Ratnam, there are a variety of musical influences in Guru. Even Turkish music, if I’m not mistaken?
A.R.R.: Mani sir told me he was going to film some scenes in Istanbul. That’s why I composed the song “Mayya mayya” in a Turkish style.
In 2003, I visited Konya in Turkey to pay my respects at the shrine of the great Sufi poet Rumi. In December each year, there is a celebration held at Rumi’s shrine. Thousands of people from all faiths come there. That’s when I went to Konya with Owais Husain, who wrote Meenaxi for his father, the famous painter M.F. Husain. I scored the music for his father’s film.
I found Turkey to be an amazing place. I saw snow on a mosque for the first time. Snow has always meant Christmas and the image of a Christmas tree for me, and seeing it while hearing the azaan, the call to prayer, fascinated me.
But the idea of the song title “Mayya mayya” came from a water-seller in Saudi Arabia. When I went for Hajj, I used to hear a man on the street cry out: “Mayya! Mayya!” I asked someone to translate and was told it’s the Arabic word for “water.”
Maryem Tollar, an Egyptian singer, who is based in Toronto, sang that song. I was in London in those days, working weekdays on the stage production of The Lord of the Rings and composing music for Guru at the weekends. I think it was the first Guru song that we recorded.
