Artists presenting their mastery and skill, listeners engaging in discussions on ragas over coffee, and Kancheepuram silks peeping out of wardrobes to make their annual resurgence — this time of the year in Chennai evokes a certain cultural identity that the city has cultivated for itself over the last eight decades. While the December music and dance festival — also known as the “Season” in Chennai — is celebrated for its scale and artistic quality, the economics of the season is shrouded in secrecy. There is little information available in the public domain about how the substantial sums of corporate sponsorship are utilised.
The season, which involves crores of rupees, is arguably the largest music and dance festival in the world. There are over 2,500 performances, involving hundreds of artists, held across nearly 50 venues in a span of a month. Most of the sabhas or organisations that host performances in the season rely heavily on sponsorship. Until a few years ago, only a handful of nationalised banks and business houses such as those of Nalli Kuppusami Chetty and P. Obul Reddy were the major contributors. Now information technology firms and educational institutions have begun to chip in, although the amounts they contribute are relatively modest. After the passing away of the industrialist and philanthropist, Mr. Obul Reddy, his family gave Rs.80 lakh to a select group of sabhas, ensuring among other things that prestigious awards to artists come with enhanced monetary reward. Recently, the Shiv Nadar Foundation announced a contribution of Rs.1 crore to The Music Academy for renovation of its mini hall.
Corporate sponsorship
What really does corporate sponsorship mean to sabhas that sell season and daily tickets? According to the secretary of a leading sabha, the amount from the sale of season passes and daily ticket sales at the counter does not meet any significant chunk of the expenses incurred. “A sabha,” he observes, “has so many expenses such as artists' remuneration, maintenance of the hall, electricity charges, advertising and publicity. Unless we have corporate sponsorship, it is virtually impossible for us to hold performances.” He allows a rare peep into how the economics of a representative sabha breaks down. Donations and sponsorship form 50 per cent of the total income. The proceeds from the sale of daily and season tickets account for 36 per cent and members' contribution for 7 per cent of the total income. The amount earned through renting out the hall is 3 per cent and miscellaneous income 4 per cent. The expenses side of the balance sheet points to 47 per cent of it going towards artists' honorarium, transport, and hospitality charges. About 6 per cent is spent on cash awards and medallions, while 7 per cent goes to advertisement and publicity expenses. The amount spent on sound systems and lights accounts for 4 per cent of the total expenses. About 6 per cent is spent on repairs and maintenance, 4 per cent on electricity, 20 per cent on administration expenses, and about 6 percent on capital expenditure. In regard to ticket sales, the daily tickets are priced between Rs.50 and Rs.500 (Rs.1,000 on certain days, in case of very special programmes). The season passes are priced between Rs.3,500 and Rs.10,000.
It is no surprise that the extent of reliance on such sponsorship varies from one organisation to another. Acknowledging that the expenses incurred by a sabha are high, the secretary of another sabha that is over 50 years old says that until last year tickets sales accounted for the largest portion of the income. In fact, the sabha's balance sheet for last year shows the amount generated from season and daily tickets (nearly Rs. 30 lakh) as being over five times what comes in from corporate sponsorship. “This year however,” the sabha secretary reveals, “corporate sponsorship for our sabha has almost tripled. We have enhanced the remuneration for artists significantly.” Some sabhas point out that they hold festivals throughout the year and the Season is an opportunity to raise funds for their yearlong events. However, there are a few small sabhas that surface only during December; they try to make profits in the Season, as they do not have any expense during the rest of the year.
According to informed sources, smaller sabhas pool in considerable amounts of sponsorship for their festival, which in some cases are rather short, citing big names.
However, the remuneration they promise senior artists hardly exceeds a few thousand rupees. Issues of credibility and regulation thus remain murky areas. The mushrooming of smaller sabhas across the city and its suburbs has made the picture even more complex. While the number of such organisations figuring in the festival is over 50, only about 15 sabhas, mostly those established decades ago, are part of the Federation of City Sabhas. The Federation allows membership only to those organisations registered under the Tamil Nadu Societies Registration Act 1975.
Artists' remuneration
While a few sabhas are considered reasonable ‘paymasters,' artists, both senior and junior, feel strongly that it is about time remuneration during the Season was raised. “The Season is where I get paid the least,” says a veteran dancer. “Yes, it is prestigious to be part of it but that does not mean I can manage with such low remuneration. If I dance at a temple festival in the north, I get paid up to Rs. 2 lakh, but during the season here, the pay averages around Rs.10,000.” Questioning the “reluctance” of sabhas “to be transparent,” the Bharatanatyam exponent asks: “We are not getting paid well. There is no marked improvement in green room or stage facilities either. Where then is the money going?” Putting up a dance show costs at least Rs.15,000, including expenses on costumes, transportation costs for musicians during rehearsals, and remuneration for musicians. “We end up spending more out of our pockets!” Senior musicians performing in the prime slots in the evenings receive, on average, around Rs.10,000, and the juniors around Rs.1,500.
The hierarchy of artists on stage is reflected in their remuneration as well. The story of the main accompanists (violin and mridangam) is worse and that of the upapakkavadyam (ghatam, kanjira, morsing) pathetic. A young upapakkavadyam artist says it is very awkward to “bargain rates” with the sabhas, but there is little choice. “They would write to us saying they will pay us Rs.750 for a concert. If we respond saying please make it Rs.1,000, they will end up paying Rs.900 on the day of the concert.” This “vegetable market” approach to remuneration, the accompanist laments, removes any dignity or charm associated with the profession. “Some organisations such as The Music Academy and Narada Gana Sabha,” he adds, “pay reasonably well. At many other places, it is hopeless! We are still here, because we love what we do.”
A recurring complaint, heard over many years, is that sabhas treat Hindustani and Carnatic musicians differently, discriminating against the latter. “The same sabhas that hesitate to increase our pay are happy to pay artists from the north very well,” notes a senior artist.
Veteran music lovers and critics also express some concern that while accessibility of the classical fare offered has expanded over the decades, with all this organisational effort and enterprise, the Season is at risk of spreading itself thin. Empty seats and rows emptying in the midst of performances at several venues are not pretty sights and surely a damper on the mood of the artists. It also raises some questions for the economics of the Season.
‘Donation' culture
Another trend that is worrying senior artists is the growing malpractice of sabhas demanding “donations” from young and eager dancers for a performance slot. The amounts demanded are said to range from a few thousand rupees to a lakh rupees for a coveted slot on the inaugural day of the festival. It appears that the practice, which used to be restricted to dance, is now creeping into the music performance space. A young musician recalls his vocalist-friend from a neighbouring State receiving an e-mail from a Chennai sabha, to which he had applied, asking for a donation. Artists are concerned about students of music and dance who come from modest backgrounds. “Are we saying,” asks a senior artist, “that the performance space is only for those who can afford it? Are we then not allowing the arts circuit in Chennai to perpetuate elitism?” The other side of the coin, artists point out, is that anyone who can afford a slot will gain preference in the performance space. It was time the classical arts in the south, and particularly Chennai, took merit seriously, breaking free of caste and class prejudices.
The apprehension is that in a growing number of instances, the lack of any systematic auditioning process and poor, uninformed art administration are taking the much celebrated arts festival of Chennai to a zone where money, public relations, and artistic merit will matter – but only in that order. And that seems to be the biggest concern of artists striving to retain core values of the classical arts.
