‘Evil person’ happy with the slow changes

The Carnatic community may differ with his views, butT.M. Krishna is contentedly pursuing his path toself-discovery

Recognising and acknowledging the position of privilege, of class, caste and social position that he occupies, seems to be constant tussle for T.M. Krishna. For, even when speaking about his progressive positions, like detaching from the religiosity associated with Carnatic music, he is quick to point out the privileged upbringing that kindles such thoughts in him.

“I was never overtly religious. Our house was generally not so religious. That is also a privilege thing, the upper caste modern urban aristocracy manoeuvres between this quasi-religious, quasi-ritual ways,” says Krishna, in an interview to The Hindu ahead of the Kovalam Literary Festival on Saturday, where the Carnatic vocalist and Magsaysay Award winner will deliver the K.C. John Memorial lecture.

For him, the difficult positions that he has taken, of speaking out about the exclusions in his art form, of walking out from Chennai’s annual December music season and being part of the Urur-Olcott Kuppam, has been a part of a long process of self-discovery.

“I think it was through music that I realised the baggage I was carrying. Art should make you vulnerable. The fact that the art is a socio-politically privileged form does not stop the art experience from being beyond that. So, for me, being touched by art was the point of realising of my privilege,” he says.

How much of it came from studying the history of Carnatic music, which he had done for his book ‘A Southern Music’? “I think it’s like a chicken and egg story, which came first. The research started very technically, as musicological research. Putting it all in words was an important part of the process, which gave me greater clarity,” he says.

The ‘divine’ angle

He finds the idea of classical arts being something sanctified, fundamentally problematic. “Carnatic music is viewed as something divine, spiritual; as if when you are singing, you are levitating six feet from the ground,” he says.

The politics of gender within the art form should also be addressed, he says. “There are violinists who won’t play for women. There are vocalists, who will not have women as accompanying musicians. Women singers, after they attain fame, will not have women violinists. In Kerala, which this is one of the most misogynistic, patriarchal places despite the celebration of the matrilineal society, male singers are preferred to female singers in temple festivals. Navarathri festival has broken that though,” he says.

There has been a tremendous backlash within the Carnatic community to his positions, but he is quite happy to be the ‘evil person,’ seeing the slow changes, the acknowledgement of the problem, that is coming from within.

“There are people who love my music, but disagree with my views on caste, gender and politics. How do you reconcile to that? You can’t. Many told me that they have stopped listening to me. There is nothing contradictory between the music that I attempt, vis-à-vis my positions on Narendra Modi, caste or gender. They are all a continuum for me,” says Krishna.

He still does not miss the December music season from which he walked out of last year, and is “looking forward to the breathing space that happens for three weeks in December.” And, the music he listens to? Ranges from Jim Morrison to Clapton to Western Classical, and Metallica.