Of Unlikely Bedfellows

Last December, I sat in the last row of the Madras Music Academy’s stately auditorium, marvelling at how little had changed in the 15 years I’d been attending the Margazhi (December–January) season concerts. Every year, I felt the familiar exhilaration of being able to listen to my favourite performers live, and greeted the same rasikas (audiences) with a deference reserved for the gatekeepers of the arts. While Carnatic music itself is often criticised as being a static art form, it was the listening experience that, for me, remained untouched, too hallowed a practice to allow for much change.