“I sang on this very stage 36 years ago, and with these very musicians.” With that Carnatic vocalist TM Krishna began his Christmas morning concert at The Music Academy in Chennai.
But what was significant about the occasion was not just that it was the venue where he made his debut as a 12-year-old prodigy with violinist RK Shriramkumar and mridangist K Arun Prakash. It also marked the closure of another loop.
A decade ago, Krishna had declared his disenchantment with the Carnatic music establishment and the winter margazhi season run by its famed sabhas, of which the Academy is arguably the most prestigious. He accused it of being elitist, casteist, sexist, manipulative and vulnerable to money power. He, in turn, was accused of turning against the very system that nurtured him.
Over the last few years, the friction between Krishna and the Carnatic establishment worsened, with right wing voices adding toxicity to the debate. His books A Southern Music, Sebastian & Sons and his analysis of MS Subbulakshmi’s musical persona raised many more questions about the biases in the Carnatic world. It seemed this standoff would never find a resolution.
Then, last year, The Music Academy awarded him what is regarded as the highest honour for a Carnatic musician – the Sangita Kalanidhi award. Krishna accepted, taking on the mantle of the artiste who would preside over the Academy’s annual music conference and academic sessions for 2024. It also meant that he would perform at the Academy in the season. What followed the announcement of the award was a veritable storm of protests crowned by a court case that has yet to be resolved.
His concert was a resounding success, raising the kind of audience hysteria rarely seen at Carnatic kutcheris, especially among the young, and certainly not at the grand old Music Academy. That same enthusiasm was visible at the daily morning academic sessions that Krishna presided over. These sessions investigated topics that were a mix of the classical and the subaltern, such as songs of lament sung in Tamil communities.
In an email interview with Scroll, he discusses the concert, its fallout and his first margazhi appearance after a decade.
It has been 10 years since you exited the margazhi concert season and the Academy and sabha system to protest exclusionary and unethical practices. What persuaded you to take the stage at the Academy again? Have the issues that you raised a decade ago been addressed? Also, some cannot square the fact that you accepted the highest award conferred by an ecosystem that you left in some anguish. How do you react to this?
My concert at the Music Academy cannot be decoupled from me having accepted the Sangita Kalanidhi Award. The former followed the latter.
My criticism of the music season and the culture within Karnatik music was also a reflection and acceptance of my own participation in an exclusionary culture. And therefore I needed to step aside and recalibrate my relationship with the sabha system, explore other ways of sharing my art and connect, support and collaborate with other cultures, especially those that are at the fringes or beyond ‘elite’ cultures.
Moving away from the season was also very important because that action of mine generated a lot of conversation within and around the practice of the arts. It was a serious political act meant to shake the system and make people ponder over what was being practiced. Whether they agreed with me or not, the community was forced to confront my words and actions. And through my various interventions and evolving observations on society and culture over the past decade, the Karnatik and the larger art environment has had to continuously grapple with the questions that have been raised.
Though I did not sing in the season, I have sung in sabhas in Chennai and other cities over the years. Also, through our foundation, Sumanasa Foundation, we have over the past eight years held nadaswara concerts in Chennai sabhas during the season. We have collaborated with sabhas during the Covid pandemic and supported artists who have performed in these sabhas. I have always been an insider-outsider and that is where I see my role.
Over the past decade, conversations about inclusivity and diversity have become robust and the younger generation is taking these dialogues forward. They understand the need for a far more open, accepting and safe environment in Karnatik music that allows for serious discussions on culture, music, society and art’s role in it. I believe that accepting the award and singing in the season now sends a signal to younger musicians that they can find their own voice, be who they are, swim against the tide, stand their ground, as long as all this comes from a place of honesty and above all their art is exemplary.
2024 was a moment for me to think and once again re-adjust my direction keeping in mind where we are socially today. The Music Academy selecting me for the award itself is an invitation for a new conversation. A conversation that is so essential for the future of Karnatik music. It would have been wrong for me to not accept this invitation, because ultimately we do want to progress socio-culturally.
Have things changed significantly since I left the season a decade ago? No. But there is movement in the right direction, at least in certain quarters. I have seen this happen in many small ways over the past five or six years. I am not going to point to them specifically because they need to happen organically without any connection or validation from me. My disassociation from these changes is imperative for change itself to have many independent homes.
I am also aware of the criticism that has come from people belonging to marginalised backgrounds. Especially those who still struggle to get a footing in the Karnatik fold. They are making a valid point. At the same time, I think socio-cultural movements are intrinsically messy and there is a need for different modes of activism and discourses. And that includes pushback on my own work, thoughts and actions. A friend who does not belong to the Karnatik world socially or culturally said to me that accepting the award was important because in the present cultural climate we must forge transformative relationships. All the unnecessary ambient noise that we have heard over the past eight months is a reaction to Karnatik music slowly travelling a less trodden path and many practitioners and listeners realising the need for this democratic shift.
The response to the concert was exceptionally buoyant. It was as though for the audiences the occasion meant something more than the music. What was your takeaway from the occasion?
When I got up on the morning of the 25th of December and reached the venue, I had no clue that the concert would become what it did. Many or most people who came to the concert were there because it was personal for them. There was great joy, but much more than that, it was a cathartic experience. This was evident in the tears, in the way people embraced each other or just stood around smiling after the concert.
They felt they participated in something culturally momentous. A friend of mine who was in the audience said to me that once the screens opened he could feel the emotions pass through the entire audience like a wave. And we felt that on the stage. Like I said in my acceptance speech on the 1st of January 2025, that morning was not just about the number of people, the applause or the reception we received, it was about the collective statement that was being made. It is until today an experience that is very difficult for me to express in words and I am still trying to understand what that morning means for me personally and for the future of Karnatik music. But, that it was something none of us have experienced before cannot be denied. What will come of it, I do not know.
There has been much analysis of your choice of compositions. Did you pay particular attention to the curation of the concert? The expansive, slow exposition of some of the compositions?
Almost all compositions that I rendered that morning were requests from either my colleagues on stage or my students. From the many suggestions they gave me, I just chose some on the spur of the moment. In fact, after the screens opened and just before we began the concert, I looked at RK Shriramkumar and asked him what composition he wanted as the first!
The composition that left a ripple through the audience with its energy and freshness was Perumal Muguran’s ode to freedom, Sudandiram Vendum. How did this collaboration come about?
Sudandiram Vendum was not composed for this occasion. It was written by Perumal Murugan a few years ago and set to music by me. I have sung it on multiple occasions. But I guess at this concert it came alive in a manner that it never has because of the context.
The academic sessions you curated had themes that were intensely classically oriented but you also pencilled in music that lives on the margins such as the oppari, which are songs of lament. How did you pick the themes? And what does the packed hall for this series indicate?
The Music Academy Conference had a theme after 49 years. The theme was ‘Aesthetics and Synaesthetics: Reflections on Raga in Indian Art’. I wanted raga discussed within four frameworks: ancient and textual histories, ragas in practice, ragas as melodic sources in other art forms and understanding melodies that exist beyond the raga domain. All the topics were chosen keeping these categories in mind. This automatically meant diverse voices would become part of the aesthetic discussion. The conference paved the way for a larger investigation and understanding of ragas and musicality without being bound by habituation. I would suggest that ragas were set free in the conference. It also enabled newer and revealing experiences for the typical classical aficionados.
For the first time, every speaker sent in an abstract of their talk in advance and the same was published on the Music Academy website. This definitely added to the rigour of the conference. All the lectures were universally outstanding. I must also thank V Sriram [secretary of The Music Academy], the experts committee members and the audience for the rich discussions that ensued the talks.
I am glad that so many people came for the lec-dems. What was heartening was that beyond the rush for the popular names, almost every lecture had at least 100 to 150 people in the audience. There were also a number of individuals who made it a point to be present every morning. All this augurs well for the future. Such serious academic and thoughtful work in music and the arts needs to be revived and revitalised. Passive consumption of art needs to recede to the background.
Would you be open now to performing at other traditional margazhi platforms, other sabhas?
At this point I have not thought through this possibility and hence any answer would be premature.
You pointed to the fact that it has been 36 years since you first appeared at the academy with the same accompanying musicians and long-term collaborators. Do you feel the absence of the season in your musical life?
In the initial years after I stopped singing [in the season] there was some FOMO! But after a point of time I became very comfortable not singing. The music season is an intense coming together of the Karnatik culture. Everything that culturally makes the music is witnessed all at once, in that short period of time. Staying away allowed me to watch its happenings from a distance and make informed observations.
Malini Nair is a culture writer and senior editor based in New Delhi. She can be reached at writermalini@gmail.com.
