It's time Magsaysay Awardee TM Krishna changes the Brahminical system of Carnatic music

When TM Krishna won the Magsaysay Award a few days ago, the first note of dissent came from an equally well-known Tamil bilingual writer Jeyamohan, who alleged that a newspaper canvassed for him and that he was not worthy of the honour.

He was an “average singer” and in terms of his social interventions, he “only yells louder than the others” Jeyamohan said. An article in Swarajya  even thought that the Magsaysay citation on Krishna was an “insult to karnatic music” because the lack of inclusiveness it stated was provocative, baseless and weak on facts. The author of the article even attributed it partly to Krishna because he continued to “play a major role in creating and spreading such a skewed narrative through his writings”.

The latest on the controversy is a Facebook post  written by the organisers of the Urur Olcott Kuppam Vizha (Urur Olcott Kuppam Festival), a cultural festival at a Chennai fishing hamlet that also made Krishna famous. Last year, Krishna stopped performing at the high-brow annual music festival circuit in Chennai, the pride of place for any karnatic musician in the world, and chose to participate in this festival. Krishna wanted his art to be more accessible and inclusive, but the media’s reductionist impression about his effort was that he was singing to “slum” children instead of Chennai’s elites. Probably because of his stature, his participation also created an impression that he was the main organiser of the festival.

The festival organisers were unhappy and said that Krishna was only one of the volunteers and that they didn’t consider karnatic music as superior to the art forms that they otherwise patronised.

In his criticism, Jeyamohan appeared outrightly bitter, while the Swarajya article was a meek attempt to prove that karnatic music was inclusive by citing a few names of the past. The Urur Olcott Kuppam Vizha organisers were peeved that they had been looked down upon by the media and the success of their efforts were wrongly attributed to Krishna, who was one of the many who contributed.

Krishna doesn’t owe an explanation to anybody because he has been unequivocal in the articulation of his politics, whether it concerns art or society. However, criticisms by Jeyamohan and his supporters, as well as people who think karnatic music is inclusive need to be clarified.

Firstly, let’s look at the bigger point, not the award, but the exclusivism of karnatic music. No assortment of names can deny that karnatic music is still almost entirely Brahmanical. There have been a few names here and there — a handful of vocalists and mostly accompanists — who were non-Brahmin, but all the major names have been Brahmin. And what’s worst is that there’s been hardly any Dalit, except the late Neyyattinkara Vasudevan, who incidentally was not from Tamil Nadu.

Whether it’s been inadvertent or not, this is a social anomaly; a disgrace. How’s it possible that an art form is almost entirely practised and patronised only by Brahmins? Is it that they don’t part with their expertise acquired over generations or is it because others are not simply interested? Since this has never gotten to the realm of policy (social justice or affirmative action) nobody seemed to have looked for a final answer.

This is a sore point that Krishna often touched. In his book  A Southern Music , he did say that he felt deeply hurt whenever he met with a non-Brahmin musician. “They have been treated shabbily and still carry the bruises.” He also said that many of them even told him that it was their caste that shut the doors on them. Some have even shifted to performing for Bharatanatyam dancers because they couldn’t break into the concert circuit. He was particularly referring to the scene in Chennai, which he described as the “fulcrum” of karnatic music. Without getting recognition in Chennai, you are a nobody in karnatic music.

Here’s where Jeyamohan has a point in contesting Krishna’s eligibility for the award. Has he done enough in his art or activism? Krishna has made sufficient noises, particularly after the release of his book. He has often repeated a statement he has made in the book that he wanted to see a Dalit perform in a Chennai sabha and even win the Sangeeta Kalanidhi (the most prestigious annual title from the Music Academy in Chennai). But has he done enough to break the barriers?

It’s hard for non-Brahmins to even learn karnatic music, particularly in Chennai or Tamil Nadu, because the repository of knowledge and expertise is not accessible to them. Karnatic music requires sound basics, years of high-quality training and careful mentorship by experts. But, as Krishna himself has admitted, there’s a caste barrier. How does one break it? By taking the art beyond its classist and casteist confines; not just through performances, but also through an organised training programmes and endowments.

In fact, here’s where the few names that the apologists cite provide the answers. In any argument to prove that their music is not Brahminical, they drop these names: KJ Yesudas, Neyyattinkara Vasudevan and even P Unnikrishnan. All of them have performed in Chennai sabhas and are non-Brahmins. In fact, there is one more non-Brahmin regular, Sreevalsan Menon.

There is an interesting fact that binds them — all of them are from Kerala and their caste is invisible. It’s doubtful if the concert patrons in Chennai ever realised that Neyyattinkara Vasudevan was a Dalit, and Yesudas, a Latin Catholic — a denomination that doesn’t have the same “caste” status as the Syrian Christians. Sreevalsan Menon is Vasudevan’s disciple and probably found his way to the Chennai sabha circuit because of his mentor’s legacy. Menon is a prime time Music Academy performer.

Vasudevan and Yesudas wouldn’t have made it into karnatic music had it been not for the great doyen Semmangudi Sreenivasa Iyer, who as the principal of the Swathi Thirunal Music Academy in Thiruvananthapuram mentored many students irrespective of their caste. In fact, there’s a long list of non-Brahmin musicians who Semmangudi trained. Subsequently, Vasudevan trained Menon.

This is where Krishna, who incidentally was also trained by Semmangudi, hasn’t yet made a breakthrough. In this interview with The Hindu , he confesses that he still doesn’t have Dalit student, but hopes to find some through his project in corporation schools.

Krishna’s is a lone voice. Nobody else from his fraternity has come to his support. Without their voluntary mentorship Krishna’s project of socialising karnatic music will take time and cannot scale up because it requires a few generations of mentorship and an inclusive ecosystem. If others don’t join hands, it will be a tough task.

The alleged Brahminism of karnatic music, particularly in Chennai or Tamil Nadu, is also a proxy for a certain social order. Without dismantling it, Krishna, or anybody else for that matter, will not succeed. Curiously, the social reforms movement in Tamil Nadu never paid attention to this phenomenally-sophisticated art form, and its practitioners and patrons never bothered either.

How many of us know that Gustavo Dudamel, one of the contemporary rock stars of western classical music, was a product of the state-financed music education programme called El Sistema in Venezuela? What Semmangudi, and subsequently his disciples, achieved in Kerala was a similar social programme because it was preceded/accompanied by a reformist movement. That’s what Krishna should aim for. Probably, he should start a counter-sabha movement and disrupt the system.

Secondly, Jeyamohan’s comments on Krishna’s singing prowess and comparison with Sanjay Subrahmanyan do not matter because it’s his personal view. Krishna’s music itself is the answer. It’s just extraordinary.