Loading summary
A
Study and play come together on a Windows 11 PC and for a limited time, college students get the best of both worlds. Get the unreal college Deal everything you need to study and play with select Windows 11 PCs. Eligible students get a year of Microsoft 365 Premium and a year of Xbox Game Pass ultimate with a custom color Xbox wireless controller. Learn more@windows.com studentoffer while supplies last ends June 30th terms at aka mscollegepc so
B
good, so good, so good. New summer arrivals are at Nordstrom Rack stores. Now get ready to save big with up to 60% off brands like Rag and Bone, Levi's, Adidas and Free People. Join the NordicLub to unlock exclusive discounts. Shop new arrivals first and more. Plus buy online and pick up at your favorite Rack store for free. Great brands, great prices. That's why you rack
A
this episode is brought to you by State Farm. You know those friends who support your
B
preference for podcasts over music on road trips? That's the energy State Farm brings to insurance. With over 19,000 local agents, they help
A
you find the coverage that fits your
B
needs so you can spend less time
A
worrying about insurance and more time enjoying the ride. Download the State Farm app or go
B
online@statefarm.com like a good neighborhood, State Farm is there. Welcome to the CAST Pod, where we assemble scholars, activists, community organizers, artists, and others to make sense of what CAST is, how it works, how it's experienced, and how it has traveled and taken root both inside and outside of South Asia. What have people done to perpetuate, transform, and even attempt to abolish caste? I'm your host Ajantha Subramanian, a professor of anthropology at the City University of New York. And joining me today is TM Krishna. I had a hard time coming up with a short bio because Krishna is ridiculously accomplished and versatile. Listeners can find a link to his entire bio on the podcast site. So for now, let me just introduce him by saying that he's that rare person who's equally talented as a performer and a writer. Krishna is a celebrated vocalist in the Indian Carnatic tradition. He's the recipient of numerous awards, including the Ramon Magsaysay Award in recognition of, and this is a quote, his forceful commitment as artist and advocate to art's power to heal India's deep social divisions. End quote. Krishna is also a writer. As I mentioned, his best known books include the 2013 A Southern the Carnatic Story and the 2020 Sebastian and A Brief History of MRNA Makers, which won the Tata Lit Live Award for best non fiction book of the year. Krishna is also a regular columnist for the Telegraph. So welcome to the podcast, Krishna.
A
Pleasure to be here. Thank you, Ajantha.
B
Okay, so I would like to begin by giving our listeners a sense of why you chose to write about the music you perform. Was there a particular, like, intervention you were hoping to make? Was there an audience that you were hoping to reach that you couldn't reach through your performance? Why did you choose to write?
A
It wasn't a plan, right? So I was singing right through from very young years and I started performing and I was going up the ladder, so to speak, and then performing around the world. All that was happening. But I think there was also a churning, constantly happening within me about this entire exercise that I was indulging myself in and also the audience. And why the hell was I doing it? I mean, what's the purpose of this entire thing other than the fact that of course there's great pleasure and great joy, which is undeniable. But I think I found contradictions within myself, how I saw things and how I performed. And honestly, I was not thinking so much about society at all at that point of time, to be very honest. I was thinking of the music itself. And I started reading about the history of the music, about, you know, where did it come from, who was listening, all these multiple questions, which meant I was looking at theory. I was looking at ancient manuscripts and bothering scholars around the clock, asking them doubts, because I'm no Sanskrit scholar by any stretch of imagination. So I think at the end of this, I just started penning things down. I started writing a few columns about music, few articles, and one thing led to another. Literally, one thing led to another. But what I found is that writing gave me clarity, a musical clarity that I never have. Forget about social clarity. As a musician, you are trained to look at music in only one framework. The framework is the activity or the act of making music. That's the framework. That's it. So what you're learning is a mode of production, and everything has got to do the mode of production. Nothing else is discussed, right? And even the mode of production is taken for granted. You do something because you do it. I realize that you can't separate a mode of production from the context of production or the history of production itself. So then my world and my horizons grew in terms of what I read, in terms of what I learned and how it changed the way I even interpreted music.
B
That's great. It's actually a perfect segue to what I wanted to ask you next, you show in the first book, Southern Music, that although Carnatic music has a much longer genealogy, its modern variant is just. Just over 100 years old. Right. And that this process of modernizing the music was profoundly transformative. Right. And that part of what happened in this process is a series of exclusions. I mean, it's a very complicated story. So as a way of guiding our listeners, I thought it would be helpful to sort of separate these processes of exclusion into the social, the technical, and the spatial. So, okay, let's start with the social. Right. So you say, and this is a quote from the book, a beautiful collective of musicians and dancers functioning in differentiated yet connected environments was destroyed. The Devadasi, the nagasvara vidvans, the Brahmin musicians and vagayakaras of the courts, the scholars and even the saintly musicians all created art music and breathed it into the world in which they functioned. And it's this world that modernization destroyed. Right. So can you tell our listeners how this kind of wide and varied social base of Carnatic music performance was narrowed from the late 19th century to what it is today?
A
Carnatic music as we know it today, its musical, musicological history can be pushed about 400, 500 years. Max. Max. The practicing history of what you refer to, what we call Carnatic music, as in our oral landscape of it, is not more than 100, 125 years old, maybe 130 now that we are in 2026. I'll push it a little back. That's it. Now, who were practicing this music? So as far as we know, at least in. In the 19th century, for sure. 17. No, even in the 17th, 18th century, we know that there was one, a dedicated artist community which comprised of people who came from the courtesan tradition, the Devadasi tradition. They were attached either to the courts or they were attached to the temples. The temples, of course, were cultural, economic and religious centers. Right. There were another set of artists who were. Who were related to the Devadasi courtesans who played two instruments, the nadaswaram, which is a long reed instrument, or the tabil, which is a percussion instrument. They were the practitioners, actually, they were the real performers. And interestingly, many of them were also women performing them. Okay. And including percussion instruments, if you see some of the sculptures, even if you push it back to the period of chola, a lot of percussion instruments are played by women, unlike what we think today. Right. So this tradition was flourishing in the 1700s, 1800s, parallel. There were these scholars, the academicians who were writing about the music, who were thinking were also composers? They were mainly from. Mainly from the Brahmin community. Right. You had. And then you had also the composers. So you had the composers, the theoreticians, the actual practitioners in a kind of a basket. One I want to say is they were all part of elite culture. So was it really Catholic in the sense of being mass music accessible to everybody? No, this was high, high caste, high class kind of cultural activity. Then something happens which is modernization and the entire nationalist movement which is mid 19th century. So post 1850, 1860. Now there are two things that. Two cultural battles I think Indians were having with the Pradesh. One was to say we are modern, which means we are formal, which means we have formal dignity, which means we would organize ourselves like you organize yourself for a Western classical concept. There is a training system which is contemporary. So the word contemporary and modernity is used in a very different context because Indians at the same time want to say this is old.
B
Yes.
A
They're kind of straddling two very interesting things. They're saying we are very old, but we are contemporary in the way we present ourselves.
B
The other thing is that this is our modernity. Right. There is something particular to our modernity.
A
Absolutely. Now at the same time they want to also say it's old. So there's something pristine they want to speak about. So there's something, you know, there's something creaseless, clean. Now the moment you start using fold, such words, morality becomes a very important part of that story. The moment you say you're pure, then you're. There is an angle. Angle of especially sexual morality. Right. Now here the devadasis become a problem in the story because they come from a community that have a very different social organization. They have partners with men in the case of these devadasis who are involved in Carnatic music. And I want to make that differentiation because there are the Dalit community that's a little more, that's a little different. I'm talking about the courtesan musicians who are part of high culture, specifically here. So they have partners who are either Brahmins or landowners or part of the king's court or stuff like that. So it's a very different social organization, but with also colonial morality. This entire community becomes a problem in the storyline. Right. It's also true, apparently it is also true that there was exploitation of these women. You can't deny that both these things exist. That's one of the problems. Now when we Discuss this. We want to take one, one, you know, one side of this story. You can't. So there is exploitation because there are people from the community who are protesting against his practice and say that this has to be abolished. You can't have the exploitation movement. That's true. But at the same time, the social structure also gave these women power and agency, which is also true. So in terms of even land and ownership, so even the men in their community, their own community, had less power sometimes than the women. So this entire thing had to be collapsed for the sake of morality and morality of the music. Now you're saying this music is also religious, right? You're not. This is not like. This is not secular music in a modern sense. You're singing about gods and goddesses. All these songs are about Rama and Krishna. Now morality becomes a problem. This is also a Hindu nationalism reinventing itself nationally in India at that time, right? So this kind of breaks and messes this entire storyline of Carnatic music. So what happens is there's a social pushback of saying we abolish the Devadasi system. But as always, with abolishment of the Devadasi system, what happens is, is you removed an entire community of musicians who have carried this art form for hundreds of years. There is a cultural history, there is memory, which is all being wiped out in about 30, 40, 50 years. Now the power of women in the temple, in the cultural landscape, it's all changing. So actually what happens is another interesting thing. Many of these women from the Devadasi community become one of the first set of actors in cinema, right? Because Brahmin women cannot act in cinema, right? So that the Devadasis, who are dancers, who do sadh or what was later known as Bharatanatyam and Carnatic music are the singing, dancing actors of early cinema too. Which is not only a South Indian story, it's true across India, right? It is this courtesan community that's taking over cinema. So they find a segue there. Because this puritanism kind of starts pushing them out now. The concert repertoire now has to be changed, right?
B
So this is the kind of technical. This is the technical side of things, right. That we're getting to actually now, I did want to ask one question. One was there was. You also talk about a shift in patronage, right? That accompanies these processes of change. So you have the end of these older forms of patronage, right? Royal temple patronage and a shift to the paying public.
A
The sponsor has changed.
B
Yes.
A
Then the moment you're formalizing it now you're saying people are going to pay to come and listen to a concert, right? And you're saying we're going to have an auditorium or even a temporary shed where people are going to come and sit. There's a formalization. Then there is also a contractual relationship being built between the listener and the performer. There's a contractual relationship. So you're not just pleasing the king. Every concert I have to satisfy the people sitting in front of me. So the music now has to change to that contractual agreement too. Let's not forget that. Right. Part of this is also a shift from the rural to the urban that we cannot forget.
B
Yes. Yeah.
A
So there is an urbanization that is happening. So for example, in South India, Madras then becomes the hub. If you look at KAL history, Bombay becomes the hub. Exactly the same that happens from little towns where there were different schools of music. They're all gathering to one city where you have the industry occupation of these people are changing. So the Brahmins and the upper caste are the patrons who are usually in the village doing agriculture. Now they are educating themselves. They are either in government service or they have started a little business. Business or their lawyers. These are three main things.
B
Interesting.
A
They become the most influential non performing group in urban classical music history. So among the lawyers, among the businessmen, and among also people doing, you know, ICS officers as they call it, even the civil service, government service.
B
Right.
A
They become the power group. So the power group has shifted now, but it still remains among the crusty upper caste members of society. But now they are speaking in English a little bit. Now they're saying, we will also help you theorize. So the funny part here is that the early theorizations of Carnatic music that happen at the music academy in Madras, then a lot of participation is happening from amateur musicians who are lawyers. It's very interesting. They are pushing back on musicians, by the way.
B
Huh?
A
They're saying, no, you don't know.
B
They claim to know the music better than the musicians because.
A
Because they've gone to college. Right. This whole idea that I'm educated, you're not educated. So you find this very. All these lawyers who are amateur musicians pushing back on like great musicians saying no, you're wrong. This technically this is not right. It has to be this way. So then this notion of science, scientific thought, it's a. It's a false term used in the false context. But I will still using it.
B
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
A
Or saying that, you know, suddenly physic, they're measuring frequency and saying, you're not singing it in this frequency, you should be singing. So the pressure on the musician is coming from weird places.
B
Right.
A
Which has not happened before. Now, while this is happening, it's also interesting in one way to understand how conservatism being very conservative and parochial at one level and modern technological terminologies and gadgets kind of marry each other brilliantly. You know, we think that they are separated. We have enough examples of the fact that they are not. Here is example. Along with this, you have the whole structure of the Carnatic music performance being changed. Cater to a certain religious upbrahminical notion of what the music should be. And the people contributing it to it are not just musicians, other lawyers, ICS offices and business people. Because they want to say, this is upper crust culture, this is proper culture. So in this culture, you're slowly removing the devadasis. You're also making it very vocal centric.
B
This is important because you talk about composition, right? The elevation of composition. Yeah, yeah.
A
I mean, we can be pretty certain that till early 1900s, Carnatic music was not composition heavy. So the compositions come into concert. When you start saying it's religious music now that's. That's the double whammy. The moment you say Carnatic music is religious music, you have to sing the composition. You have no other choice because you have to prove that it's religious. You have to sing on these gods after their names. So this is happening. All this happens more in the mid-1900s, but it happens. The process started in the late 1800s. Suddenly you're saying, I mean, if you listen to a lot of musicians singing in the early 20th, 20th century, 1900s, their lyrical importance is very minimal. Even among the upper caste Brahmin musicians. Very minimal. It's in the mid-50s and 60s that you suddenly see the obsession with getting the word right. Not musically right, but the word right. They're two different things. I can sometimes get the word musically right, but may not be semantically. Semantically right. They can contradict each other. That's a musical liberty. That's what art allows you to do. People started questioning those liberties. So then the music starts becoming a religious expression as much as it's a musical expression and what kind of religion it is the religion practiced by upper caste Brahmins. So the devadasis are disappearing. Nadasuram Tawil is disappearing because vocal music is becoming dominant. And slowly there is a. The whole performer community is shrunk to just the Brahmin caste. Primarily so by the time you reach the 80s, this becomes a Brahmin art form sung by four Brahmins. Simple as that.
B
I mean, what's so interesting as well is that as the religiosity of the music is being enhanced, you also have a shift in the space of performance from the temple to the Kacheri hall. Right. So can you talk about that?
A
I mean, the other way, actually. Yeah, Right.
B
So that seems like, weirdly paradoxical, but that's what's happening, right?
A
So here modernity enters, right? This is where modernity comes in, where you say so also where you say, this music cannot only belong there. The sensibility has to belong in the modern context. So we are saying we are not like the Brahmins of 100, 200 years ago, where we are just going around temples. We are now ICS officers, we are now lawyers, we are now. We wear coats and suits, we speak the queen or the king's language. And which means within this sphere too, we are going to bring this music, which is great. We're also going to bring our religious sensibility in a new context. So you could feel it within your modernity. You don't need to discard your modernity. You don't need to discard your attire. So being able to make these adjustments, but retain a certain large amount of control over culture, you're also then saying another thing, right? You're not saying all public spaces is where Carnatic music can happen. You're not really taking from temple and saying this on the street. No. You're saying street's not good. We need an auditorium. We need a different kind of a temple, if I want to use that term. This is a different kind of a temple, but it also needs to be protected. It also needs to be cultured. It also needs gatekeepers. And there can only be one set of people who can be the gate. Gatekeepers, which is us.
B
Yeah, right.
A
We were gatekeeping it in the temple, we'll now gatekeep it here. Right. So it's, you know, and you know, also it's. It's very interesting that anybody who wanted to enter these zones have to pass certain unwritten kind of questionnaires that have to be kind of passed. That's how it happens. So it's. It's a very. It's a very complex web of control.
B
Yeah. So it's. So, I mean, just to go back to what you said before, you said this kind of older, more socially capacious, right. World of Carnatic music was still high culture, but had greater social range. And so now that that high culture kind of character continues, but the social range is being narrowed, right?
A
Absolutely true. That's exactly what I'm saying. So another thing in terms of content, what they do is a lot of the compositions the courtesans were singing were very, very sexual, sensual, romantic and content. Now those are either being discarded or being pushed to the latter part of the concept. You know, we forget even how a concert is designed is actually a social commentary. It's not just a musical decision. Right, right. So what is the centerpiece in a concert, for example? What if you ask any serious Carnatic musician, they will, they will tell you there is. If it's two hour concept, the most important section will be after the first 15 minutes and before the last 20 minutes.
B
Okay, okay.
A
That's an approximation, but that's where it'll be. So one is of course improvisation is very important. That's where your metal is really tested. But the content, when that whole section will always be religious. You couldn't have content in that meaty section which is entirely sexual or sensual. So this is also being done then also technically you're doing something else. You're saying that you are a musician only if you can take all these technical boxes. The interesting thing is there's enough records to say that even till the early 1900s, all musicians were not technically equipped in all abilities. For example, a lot of the co design musicians were specialists in one thing or the other. Now they could not be considered full fledged Carnatic musicians unless they ticked all the boxes. So another thing changing is a training methodology is changing. Don't forget how you teach this music is changing. The moment the music is being passed on to, to majorly Brahmin musicians or Brahmin students. Like it happened in, in Bharatanatyam, the method of training is changing. The requirements are then also being kind of modulated to this new notion of the concert, new notion of what is important. Right. And I see that happening until today. It is not something that stops in the early 20th century. Until today. This is constantly happening, constantly being re. Redone.
B
Okay, I want to move now to your second book, your second sort of major book. Because it takes up something that is not covered in the first book. Right. The first book deals with all of these exclusions, the kind of modernization, the sanctification of this music. Right. How it's being Brahmanized. But in the second book you take up a form of labor that this modern form of Carnatic music continues to depend on, but renders invisible. Right. And this is the labor of making, the making of the instrument. And you focus specifically on the mirdangam. Right. So this. So Sebastian and Sons is about the social history and the contemporary life of. Of the mirdangam, which is this percussion instrument that is essential and has remained essential to the sound of Carnatic music. So tell us about why you chose to focus on the mirdangam as a window onto. I mean, it's a fascinating book. Onto the kind of cast relations that remain at the heart of Carnatic music.
A
If you look at Southern music, you know, I realized that it was limited in the sense that it almost looked like Carnatic music entirely from a performance lens. So all the characters in the books are always people within a performance, either the audience or they're on stage. Right. Or they are tutoring in a classroom. Now, what else? So in a way, there is a. I think there is a certain amount of an isolation in that. In the way I placed that. That narrative. I realized it, and the first person I thought of is the Mridangam maker. In my head, when I realized it, I realized quite early, after the book was published, actually. And I was like, what happened to all the. All these people? I mean, in a way, it also called my. Called me out that I didn't have a lens to see that there were other people contributing. And in a way, that's what caste is, right? That you don't see that it's operating within you so many times. So in a way, it was something that I was like, gosh, what did I do here? So the reason why the Mridangam maker came to my mind is because I've heard some names like Parlant. I knew there's a name called Parlant. I heard some stories about how he made the Mridangam for some legendary mridangam artists, etc. The other reason for me immediately was the idea of skin. You know, and with all this puritanism and this puritanical kind of story that we constantly tell, right. What do we do with an instrument that is made not just of goat skin and buffalo skin, but of course, the cow skin? And it was like, I mean, what do we do with this? I mean, there is a. There is something, and it's considered divine instrument. The sound is considered divine. We're using all these very heavily loaded words. But that skin is from the cow. It's from the belly of the cow. It's not just any skin from cow. Let's be very clear. It has to be the belly. It has to be a cow that is at least delivered three times because only then there's elasticity in the skin, in the belly. So I was like, oh God. But I didn't know any of this. I said, okay. I just thought that there was some, there was a story to tell here.
B
Yeah.
A
The other reason is I know that many of the makers were from Dalit communities, if not Dalit marginalized communities, for sure. And there is something fascinating about this. Now, if I bought a violin at a store, I'm never going to. I mean, even if I buy it from a, from a violin maker directly, like I'm a performing musician after that I'm going to see the violin maker maybe once in a few years if I have a problem. That's about it. I don't really have a relationship with the maker. Now, any instrument that has height requires a constant relationship between the maker and the player. Because you have to change the skin. It's going to act up, it's going to require refurbishing, it's going to require old skin to be replaced by new skin. So it means that the Dalit maker and the Brahmin Mr. Player, by just the fact that they are in these specific occupations, have to develop a long term relationship. Because a professional player would want a maker who understands his sensibilities. And it's, it's personalized. It's not like I can go to a store and pick it up and come. So I found that absolutely fascinating because these are very, very conservative people, very traditional people. These people who practice caste on an everyday basis here have this relationship, right. And I was like, what is this relationship about? I mean, I could take a very Marxist view and say, you know, this is just about, again, production. This is just about a transaction.
B
Alienation of labor.
A
Absolutely. I could easily take it. But I realized there's something more here. It is complicated because there are human beings involved. Right. And you know, I realized that it's not just about alienation of labor. It's not just about they having no other choice, but having to make this instrument. Because when you, when you hear a maker speak about the joy of producing sound on that skin for the first time, it's. I can see it on the face. It's felt. So there is cost, but there is this joy of producing sound. There's great joy when the first time they, they play the Mridangam and they have sounds. As much as a player feels joy, the maker feels joy. So I can't belittle this joy. There is agency and joy, isn't there? So. And it's like, so how does it happen? There is caste here. There are limitations. There are social regulations. But there is this pleasure that is there in the act of making an instrument. So I spent time.
B
Because I see your pride.
A
Oh, there's tremendous pride. There's no doubt about it. Right. So I spent four years, four and a half years with the makers all over South India, and I just traveled. And for me, it was completely new territory because Ahmed had never written in that manner, you know, that kind of work. So. But it was a fascinating story to tell. So I spent time with about 20 makers and 30 players from, you know, each from different generations.
B
So this quote just jumped out at me, which goes back to the cow, right? And the way the cow is ever present and somehow, like, sanitized at the same time. Right. So you say the cow is removed from the artist's sight. Since the killing and skinning happen beyond his circle of existence, he can act as if it does not happen. Right. The maker stands at the threshold, keeping the cow and the Brahmin apart, helping the latter maintain his purity. So the maker is vital for the player, yet his role also keeps the maker polluted and unequal. But as you say, yes, there's a. There's a kind of pollution that's associated with. With. With skin, right. With blood. There's a stark inequality in this relationship between maker and player. And yet it's very complicated because the maker takes great pride. I mean, this is not a form of cast labor that is denigrated. It's a source of pride. It's a source of inspiration. And they claim it as a form of knowledge, which is something that you are really keen to convey in the book, right, that this is knowledge. Absolutely. Yeah, absolutely.
A
You know, because for me, wiping out anybody's mind, so to speak, you know, knowledge is the way you make that person disappear or that community disappear. You. Like, there's. There's no. So for me, that was fascinating. I was learning new vocabulary. I was learning terms I've never heard before in my life. And I know the language. I was like, I've never heard this. These were technical terms used for various parts of the skin, you know, and. And a certain sensibility of knowing, thickness of knowing, where goes, what insistence. This was tremendous knowledge. And. And by the way, they are all innovators, every one of them. Maker has come up with their own twist on how you can make sound better. Or, for example, I always. One thing fascinated me is how every person's hand is different. Every MrTangam player's hand is different. There is also a stylistic aspect, their style of playing, the tradition of playing. The mrudhanga maker needs to understand this while deciding what kind of skin should be used for which Mridangam player. This is tremendous knowledge. They just know it. So what happens is when they first cut the skin out of the animal, whether it's a goat, cow or the buffalo, they cut into circles, okay. And they call it tattu. Tattu literally means plate and tam, we eat out of a plate. Right. And the question is it's all this circular parts of skin and then there's a process of making it better, etc. There's a simple, you know, way you cure it. Then at some point it becomes what they call a mutu. Mutu is a mrudangam related technical term. The question is, when does the tattu become the mutu? It's literally, that's what we are asking, when does the skin become loses that term, that it's a skin, but it is a, it is a, it is a technical. It is a musical part of an instrument.
B
Right.
A
And the mrtanga maker said, only I can do that. Player can never do it. So, you know, and I was, I was at abattoir with them, right. I've seen the gore, I've seen the blood, I've seen what, what actually happens there. And at some point, because of what the mridingam maker does, it's all doesn't exist at all. So, you know, MrTangam players will tell you the story of. You know, even now some people say it, saying that, no, no, no, we don't use, we only use the skin of already naturally dead cows, which is completely a lie. Because if an animal or any animal dies, the first thing that happens is clotting. Now the moment it clots, the skin becomes like cardboard. You can't use it for an instrument. So it has to be an animal that you actually kill.
B
Kill. Right.
A
Let's be very clear. You kill, of course, other things they'll say, you know, they don't kill for us, they kill for anyway meat. And we just happen to use the byproduct. So you have all these very interesting ways. You will have Brahmin musicians explain this off. Yeah, right. And, and so this, this conduit that the mridingam maker is between these two worlds.
B
Yeah.
A
And also at the same time, it's a very complex situation. They do recognize that the Mridangam player does not want to know this. In fact, one of the players said this to me. He said, they don't need to know all this. They said, even the audience doesn't need to know all the blood. All they need to say is who? The sound is divine. That's all they need.
B
The makers are saying this?
A
Yeah, the makers are saying all they know. Sound is divine. You know, that's all they need to access. So there is this. They also, I think at some very subconscious level are struggling with this duality. And it's complicated because you just imagine one thing in other kind of, say, occupations within the Dalit community, there can be a great amount of social resistance because you have a larger network among the community doing different occupations. Now, for the Murdand of Mekha, it's a very odd situation. Their entire occupation depends on the Brahmin player. Right now, the other Dalit, Other Dalit communities that are part of, say, activism and social, political activism will not understand this. They probably say, why are you doing this job? This is an oppressive job. You're catering to upper caste people making this instrument. Why are you even doing this? You should not be doing this. Go work in a factory, go get a job in an office, do and become an IT professional. What is not understood is there is art happening here too.
B
Yeah, yeah.
A
So what does one do? You know, it's a kind of. It's, you know, you're kind of stuck in a very, very, very odd situation as far as the makers go.
B
Well, okay, so you talk about how this relationship unfolds in Tanjavur and then how it changes when Mringam makers move to Chennai. Right? Move to Madras. So I wanted to, like, talk through that a little bit.
A
So in Tanjavur, there are. See, it's a question of how does caste. How are the lines of caste drawn?
B
Yeah.
A
One, they're spatially drawn. They're linguistically drawn, they're culturally drawn. So for example, in a Tanjavur house, if there was a mrdangam maker for a long time, the Mridangam maker would not come into the main house. These houses had two, three entrances, depending on your caste. You knew which entrance was your entrance. So to say, you know, you knew it.
B
Yeah.
A
So I've heard stories of how the Mridangam maker will do all the work in their homes or in a shed next to their homes, bring the Mridangam to the entrance of the house to the foreground, and then a student would come out, take the Mridangam and go in and the master would check it. Or the backyard would be another way to see it. Or if they need to work closely. Sometimes you have to work closely, the maker and the player. Then it'll be probably the courtyard or common spaces, you know, within these houses where you could, these transgressions were permitted. Right. Now the moment you came into an urban setting.
B
Yeah.
A
Things started changing.
B
Right.
A
So two, three things changed. One is there were already makers in Chennai, in Madras. Then while there were traditional makers in Thanjavur, on the village, they started this idea of setting up a shop.
B
Right, right.
A
So they said we will do. We kind of. They became like a shop, like any other shop. We do our work in the shop now. So this formalized their work. It was no more a labor in that literal sense. It was we are in a way manufacturers, if I can use that.
B
And you also say that the kind of, how to put it, the directionality changes. Right. So it's not that the maker is coming to the player's home. The player is coming to the maker's shop.
A
Yes. So slowly. That's changing slowly. The player now realizes that they need to go to the shop because it's a complex tuning system. They have to sit with the maker and there's a lot of nuance and minute changes that are required that can't be done unless you're sitting face to face. So then what is happening is many of the players especially they were younger. The maker then becomes a little more, little more assertive to the younger player and says, you come to the shop. So the seniors, they may go to their urban homes but the little younger ones are starting to make a habit of going to the shop. Okay. And then there is also certain competition that is developing there between the players because how much time of the maker are you getting? Right, right, right. So now it's almost like I, I'm. Are you free this evening? No, I have two hours with other player. Oh. Then I squeeze me in somehow.
B
Right, right. So.
A
So that's kind of changing even the power equation and this kind of one
B
to one relationship between the maker and the player, which is what gave it that kind of paternalistic character in, in Tanjawood that is shifting because now makers are making stuff for different players. Right? That.
A
Exactly right. So. So that's changing the other thing. Even if they were going to say the new homes of, of the Mridingam players who have now moved from Thanjavur or any other village back to the city, these homes are not like rural homes. There's only one entrance and one exists.
B
Right. Right.
A
Now how much demarcation can you physically do in these homes? Far less so when they will. Even so there was some amount of demarcation, but there is a certain loosening of the demarcation.
B
Yeah.
A
Let's move to the next stage. When many people started moving into apartments right. Now, that was the next stage of change because now the dining room and the drawing room are the same space. The dining room is like the most, most sanctified beyond the religious space. The dining is where purity is kept. The kitchen and the dining is where purity is kept. And now that is kind of also loosening up because it is becoming part of workspace Mridangam space. So, you know, and early days. And by the way, if you get a Mridangam newly made with new skin, that skin smells, by the way. It's not like there is no odor.
B
Yeah.
A
So any new Mridangam will smell. You will actually smell it. So imagine now that is coming into the house.
B
Right.
A
So there is again, like you said, there is this readjustment that is happening, a re. Choreography of all this. And there is this. And I think it's also changing the relationship between the maker and the player. The maker is becoming more assertive. There's another generation coming in. They also realize now it's a marketplace.
B
But it's interesting because when you're, when you talk about the increasing assertiveness of the makers, it's still. I mean, you don't talk about any of them as joining movements. Right. I mean, they're asserting, they're kind of renegotiating the terms of this relationship with players, but it's still within a kind of
A
agreed contract. Almost an agreed contract in some ways. Yeah.
B
I mean, there is. Yeah. They're not trying to break out altogether.
A
Right.
B
I mean, there is, there is. It's almost as if the, the, the co. Dependence imposes a certain limit.
A
100%. Right. It's also, I mean, it's a definite limit. And then the question is also a question of the pride of exclusivity.
B
Yes.
A
Fact that nobody else can do this
B
job, do this job. Right, Right.
A
So what do they feel about that? So.
B
Right.
A
You know, that's a very interesting reason why they, why the codependence in a way is also affirming an exclusivity of theirs. Yes. The fact that Mridanga player has no choice but to come to them.
B
Yes.
A
Right. So it's a very, it's a very. I think it's a Very mixed set of feelings. Right?
B
Absolutely.
A
So there is also feeling like he can't just go to the next street and say, I won't buy paint from your store, I'll buy it from the next store. You can't do that.
B
Right, right, right.
A
So, so there is this mixture, which is why I think it's difficult then for them to join larger movements. Right. Because if they join larger movements, the chances that they would give up this profession is very high. Right. So even now in the younger generation, you have people doing another day job.
B
Yeah.
A
They go back in the evening to the store and make them.
B
I mean, yes. This is something that I found really, really striking. I mean the title of the book is Sebastian and Sons. Right. So the, the, the subsequent generations haven't exited this line of work. And you know, which is, you know, which is sort of in contrast with a lot of other practices that are characterized as artisanal. Right. I mean I did my first book was on this artisanal fishing community in Kanyakani district where younger generations didn't want to do this work anymore. Right. They wanted to go and be it professionals or what have you. That's not the case here. And I think that that does have to do with the fact that this is not just seen as, as denigrated cast labor. It's seen as an artistic skill in its own right.
A
Exactly. That's exactly. It is seen. There is also one thing that you have to, you have to I think consider is the fact that your market or your consumer is a caste group sitting at the top of the caste ladder. Now let's imagine a world, say, suppose they were doing the same job say making Mridangams, but say the Mridangam player did not belong to this caste set and belong to say an OBC caste set. Would things have been different? Is an important question to ask. And I think it might have been different because there is the problem that caste aspiration or caste associated aspiration is still very entrenched in our psyches.
B
Sure.
A
So how much is that part of. So the pride in making the Mridangam. Pride in producing sound but producing it and making it for whom? Because you know, let's look at financials. Are they making minting money out of this? The answer is no.
B
No.
A
I mean it's. It isn't. It's tough job, it's tough work. They're making decent amount of money. But is it something that's tremendously greater than anything else? No. So there is all these aspects going to it Right. That definitely. One thing, Ajanta, is that they don't see it as labor at all. They see it. They see themselves as creators of sorts. Right. And there is that feeling that they have. They are. Every Mridangam, they'll tell you, is different. Right. It's something like what an artist would always tell you. Every mrtangam is different. It's not the same.
B
Yeah.
A
Right.
B
So
A
it is that sensibility, along with the fact that it's exclusive, along with the fact that there is a caste relationship which is not a normal relationship in society.
B
Yeah. I mean, you even see it. You have this one bit in the book where you're talking about the difference between north and South Madras, north and South Chennai. Right. And. And. And Mylapur in particular, which is this kind of Brahmin stronghold. But these mirvangam makers, their shops are in Mylapur, right? Yes, it's there. These shops are in the kind of interstices of what we typically think of as like Brahmin space. There's this one image for the. For folks who want to read the book, and you should read the book on page 75 of Sebastian and Sons, there's this image of this guy David, who's a mrdingam maker who has a shop in the heart of Mylapur. And it's not even just in the heart of Mylapur. It's in the bowels of a Murugan temple.
A
Yes.
B
I mean, it was just fascinating. I mean, one thing that we haven't talked about is that most of these makers are not just Dalits. They're Christian.
A
Yes.
B
Do you want to say anything about that?
A
Of course. That adds another layer to this entire story. Right. When you come to Dalit Christians and, you know, especially the Sebastian family, have been doing this for about six generations now, from Thanjav to now. And, you know, it's very interesting that their religious beliefs is. I mean, we talk about secularism today and, you know, it's. I mean, you actually see it in everything that they do. They have their Christian practices, their weddings are all Christian. All that at the same time, they are at every temple you can think of. Right. And that never comes up in any conversation as a major thing. It never comes up. It also tells you something about caste in some ways. Right. So among the players, nobody will have a problem about talking about the fact that they are all Christians, but the fact that they're all Dalit is forgotten.
B
Huh. What do you mean by that?
A
That's in the sense that that will never be there. Will be. That doesn't have even recognition in the mindscape of the player.
B
Wow.
A
So being Christian is not an issue. So I would rather not deal with the fact that they're Dalits, because if I have to deal with that, then I have to deal with the fact that I am asking them to do it only because I will not touch the skin. Very simply put.
B
Yeah. Okay. So.
A
So then I have to deal with a lot of social stigma that's attached to a community, attached to a certain form of work. If I speak caste. But if I forget caste and say they're all Christians who are making Mridangams for me, that's fine.
B
That's interesting. Yeah.
A
Nobody will hide. I mean, even the player will never say. Will never hide the fact that their maker is a Christian. That's never an issue.
B
So. Interesting.
A
That's never an issue.
B
Yeah. Yeah. The other thing that we haven't talked about is the Issei velala. It's a whole other story. We don't have time to get into it. But you do say that there's this other category of both makers and players who occupy this weird middle ground between Dalits and Brahmins. Yes.
A
So let me first.
B
Yeah, okay. It's almost too much to deal with, but maybe say something about it.
A
Yeah, yeah. So I'll speak about the playing side. Okay. So the Saibalalars are the same community as the Courtesan Indonesians community in the sense they were the same artistic community and they married within themselves. So the savior Lalars, and that's. That word is a caste word today. But it was a. It was a created word in the early 20th century.
B
And you say it was created as a expression of caste consolidation and status.
A
Absolutely.
B
Right.
A
Absolutely. Status and caste consolidation is the right way to put it. Yeah. So you had Mridangam players from that community. You still have a few. You had many more in the past. Now, what was that? Now they are now in between. Right. So they are struggling. The fact. The fact that they are among the Mridangam players, among Carnatic musicians, they are not the Brahmins. So there is discrimination happening there without that. And there are enough examples of them now. But they are also working with the Dalit maker.
B
Yes.
A
So there you there. The Dalit maker in the hierarchy is lower to them. So they are also exercising caste power on them. So they would mimic a lot of the habits of the Brahmin in their caste action towards the Dalit.
B
Right, right, right.
A
Exceptions kept aside. There are exceptions, of course, always. But Kept aside, you always had them struggling. Being the fact being in between the two. Now what happens to the Ise Velal Mirdangam maker? Now that's even more complicated. This guy is in an occupation which is predominantly done by people who are Dalits. So this person has to say I am not like them.
B
Right, Right.
A
I'm a maker, but I come from a highest section of society. Don't club me with that family or that group. So there is, there is this very uncomfortable relationship.
B
Yeah.
A
And how does. And I think in some ways that plays out in each of them talking about each other's mrtungam making skills.
B
Yes. Yeah.
A
Some amount. There is of course artistry and there is the usual egos of every Mridangam maker which is a tradition of making. But there's also caste in this saying that this group believes they make better Mridakam, that group believes they make better mrt. We are the traditional makers, but we are the ones who are making good Mridha. So there is also a skill related transference of caste differentiation that's also taking place. So Murdanga Mekar is. Doesn't know. And by the way, where did the Isaivela Mr. Muridangam Mekar learn most of his skills from? He learned most of his skills from the Dalit Christian.
B
Right, Right.
A
So here is the oddity. But at the same time you have to say we have our own identity.
B
Yeah.
A
So there is a very, very tense kind of a relationship between these different groups of makers.
B
Yeah.
A
Just like there's a tense relationship in the different groups of players between the province here too there is a very tense relationship.
B
I mean, I think the thing that comes through so powerfully is just the complexity of these. I'm going to be very like academic here, but the complexity of these forms of caste relationality. Right. Like all of these groups are constituted in relation to each other. They're not independent of one another. But despite those intimacies. So these forms of relationality are both rooted in intimacy, shared labor, shared knowledge. And there's this constant need to make distinctions, right?
A
Absolutely.
B
So caste is being blurred and reinforced at the same time.
A
Correct? Correct. Absolutely right.
B
I know we're coming to the end, but I wanted to just a few more things. So there's this really funny bit in the book where you talk about, I guess call it Brahmin masculinity. Right. So up to this point, you know, and especially in the first book you talk about how to be a performer is to claim a sort of almost a disembodied relationship to music. Right. That you're. You're this kind of ideal, you know, you're. You're made entirely of your mind. You're. There's a denial of the material body, there's a denial of the material world. And that part of this is about making Carnatic music into something atemporal, right? Outside of time, divine, transcendent. But here, you know, there's this bit where you're talking about, like, competition between Millingham players over the size of the instrument, right?
A
Yeah.
B
And so there's like, you know, they're trying to, you know, outdo each other in terms of the size of the instrument. And you talk about it as this kind of like a muscular musicality. Right. So I. I just wondered about that.
A
Like, bluntly put, it's such a male problem, isn't it?
B
I mean, it's like such a caricature. Right. But I. But I did wonder, like, is. Is this where, like, is there a difference between other Brahmin performers and Mirlangam players for whom there is a more embodied relationship to music?
A
I don't think so. I mean, other instrumentalists also have it, you know, once you have it. I don't think so. But there is something about percussion and the idea of masculinity. It's almost universal around the world. It's not just in an Indian phenomena, if you notice. The whole idea is most drummers in the world, Amen. This entirety of drumming, it being somehow an expression of virility at some level. It's not just masculinity, it's virility. There is something very machismo about it. So the tone, you know, even now, you ask a mrangist what tone they like, they'll say, I want tone with. With gravitas or with depth. And they are actually using terms that mean male. So tones that are, like, deeper and sizes that are bigger. So I look bigger. It's a performance. So it is something that the percussion instruments in general, instrumentalists, I think, somehow embody more than anybody else. The only way a vocalist can compete with that is through decibel sound, loudness, through, you know, screaming my head off. But percussionists can do it through the timbre. And, you know, so I think that is something that's. That is some. There is something that we need to investigate about why percussion instruments are so associated with a certain sense of masculinity.
B
Yeah, yeah. They're gendered in a way that perhaps. I mean, all of it is gendered, but maybe it's more. So there's a kind of.
A
It's gendered in tone finally. You know, that's what makes interesting. It's gendered in sound.
B
Okay, we gotta wrap up. I did want to end how to put this. I mean, this is more. In the first book, I think, you know, you really are challenging the distinction between classical and folk music. Right. You don't have a problem with the. In fact, you. You elevate the notion of art music while calling into question the notion of the classical. Right. And I. So I wonder if you could say something about that, like what. What is it? What is art music? And why for you is. Is there a value in the celebration of art music? And why is that different from saying something is classical?
A
So, I mean, I think we use the word classical music very easily, right?
B
Yeah.
A
But if you ask me a musical question, what makes some. Why is some form classical and why is another form not classical?
B
Yeah.
A
Actually, there's no musical explanation to that.
B
Okay.
A
I can't give you a musical answer to that. I will only give you answers that are vague. I'll talk about either tradition old or I'll say rigor. I'll talk about discipline, almost as if forms that don't have this tag don't have any of these qualities. And I can. We can. I can talk about every other form and talk about rigor. There is also a certain homogeneousness of what we consider rigor, what we consider repetition. You know, again, there is a constriction of knowledge that's happening when you frame it that way, because there are different modes of rigor, there is different modes of. Of technicalities or even our notion of what is form or what is part of form and structure. Right. The word classical to me is purely a social phenomenon. It's a word that just demarcates forms that are part of elite culture. That's it. And that elite could be anybody. I mean, classical music in the west is white man's music. Simply, that's all it is. Which is why, you know, you want. Why don't we call jazz classical? We can ask that question. Jazz has every element that you can you. If you had set of, what do you say, points that qualify a form to be classical. Jazz has that and more. Right. But you would never call jazz classical.
B
Right.
A
Simply because it's a social phenomena.
B
Right.
A
So I found classical to have no mus. No musicological value to me as a. As a very. Just as a musical thinker. It has no musicological value to me.
B
Me.
A
It's the same with folk. It has no musical logic. It just tells me something is practiced among a set of people who are not part of the elite section of society. That's all it's telling me. But is it telling me something about the form? No. Is it telling me something about how it's created? No. About its history? No. So in music, just purely musicological terms, these are irrelevant. They have no value. If anything, they only discriminate between art forms. Now, the word art music has been used before and been used in Western classical traditions in. In musicology in the past. And why I think that works better is art music is a technical observation, okay? What I will call it's a description of intentionality. So to me, it describes what the intention of an art form is. So what's an intention for an art music form? If you ask me, that the intention is to use sound, melody, music, rhythm, whatever, to abstract human experience in these modes where even text becomes a form of sound. Okay? So we forget that language itself is a form of sound, and consonants and bubbles actually create beautiful sound. So I think art music is playing with the sonic possibilities of these various elements in giving us an abstract experience of life. Which is why I argue that the way I see text in Carnatic music is not that I'm singing about Rama or Krishna. Yes, I am singing, but I'm not just doing that. And I can use the great compositions of absolute phenomenal composers to prove my point. There are enough compositions in which words are broken where they should not be broken. Semantically, meaning is destroyed. Meaning in a semantic sense is destroyed. My question is this is a Conservative old or 200 year old before a Brahmin composer. What's the person doing here? Why would he destroy the word when he's praising his great Rama or Krishna? Because that person is doing something else there. And that's what art music is doing. It's exploring what a vowel can do, what an extended E can do, an extended R can do when it's part of melody. So for me, art music works better as a description of abstract forms of sound.
B
That's really interesting. I mean, I found that quite striking because often when you talk about elite capture of an aesthetic tradition, just use that term. Abstraction is often seen as part of that elite capture. But you're saying something very different about abstraction.
A
I think there's something flawed in believing that abstraction is an elite capture. I'll tell you why. If you take the drumming cultures of anywhere.
B
Yeah.
A
Drumming cultures within India or in Africa, there are many Many of them in India especially, many of them are from Dalit communities.
B
Yeah.
A
Now, other than, say, some people say their original intentions was to announce a baby's birth, etc, etc. But they are not just doing that, are they?
B
Yeah, yeah.
A
What are they doing? They are giving you forms and designs in sound. Now, what is that? That's abstraction. It's abstraction of a sensibility, of a moment, but it's not the moment. It lives beyond the moment. And that's what abstraction is. And so abstraction is part of art production across societies. It's not something only elite people. And I'm talking abstraction musically.
B
Yeah. And I. And I think that there is something about that. I don't know if it's a paradox, but the fact that music is both so deeply social. Right. It's socially embedded, it's. It's socially produced and it's transcendent. Right?
A
True.
B
Yeah. It's of a time and place, but it, it's. It. It's beyond that time and place as well. Right.
A
100 true. That's what makes it very hard to actually, you know, take the strands out of it and deal with it. Because both are real. Yes, they're absolutely real.
B
And that's part of what makes it. And I think this is what runs through your work so powerfully that you have to both recognize the violence of social life as kind of running through these art forms and also recognize that there's a great pleasure in them and that the violence and the pleasure are kind of. You can't disentangle them.
A
Absolutely. Yeah, I completely. And in a way, I think you. You experience the pleasure very differently when you recognize the violence.
B
Maybe that's a good way to exit this. So for you having written all this stuff, and you know, you said before you wrote Southern music, you weren't really thinking sociologically. Right. About your. Your own performative tradition. So what does it do to you as a performer to. To have contended so fully with the sociological. The violence.
A
Yeah. As a musician. As. As a musician, I'll tell you, does two things. One is it actually opens up vistas of possibilities musically, because when you recognize the violence within yourself and within the. Your. Your creative juices are also wondering, how do I address this violence?
B
Yeah.
A
How do I act upon it as a musician? Which means you're create. You're. You're creating art that is, then is. Is challenging, circumventing, questioning, and. Which means your entire landscape, your entire canvas is expanding musically. Right. The other, apparently what it does also is it changes the way you make music with people, your relationship with your other musicians change. Your relationship with the notion of audience changes. You start questioning space, spatial, which is where you say, why should I only sing here? Why should I only speak here? So you start noticing that you need to challenge spatial order. So my work has also been about challenging spatial order. The other thing is, it's not just about your art form, right? What about the other conversation? How are the other art forms going to come to your spaces, invade your spaces, disclose you? And how are you going to have dialogues with many other communities through art? All this opened up only when I looked at the violence and the sociological order within which I was making this art form, or we're all making art that changed entirely the way I. It changes the way you listen. I'll tell you, it's very simple level, you know, what you thought was noise suddenly starts becoming music. It's something that happens in real time. It's not even imagined. Forms of music that I. Forms of music which I thought was just noise, it was sound. They didn't know what they're doing. It's crude, you know, all these things that I. Suddenly my body moves to it. Suddenly I feel beauty. Not understand beauty. I feel the beauty. So it actually changes you at a very, very visceral level in a manner that it's difficult to describe, which means you also hear your own music differently. I'll end with one thing. People always ask me, do I listen to old recordings of myself, which is probably 90s and all that? And I say I don't. And I know a lot of people love that, you know, old Krishna, they love that music. They are their people. My music has changed tremendously because of my sociological understandings. The way I present the concert has changed. Everything has changed. And one reason I say I don't listen to that in. When I listen to that voice of mine, I hear violence in it. And I can't explain to you why. There's something very, very egotistical, very violent, very. Something that makes me move back. Skill. In terms of skill, I could be far better than. Than I'm now in terms of what I could do with my voice. Definitely far more than than now. There's something about the tone and quality of that person that bothers me.
B
Now that's fascinating. All right, well, this was amazing. Thank you.
A
Thank you.
B
Thanks to all our listeners for joining us. The cast pod can be accessed through our website, thecastpod.org and through our partner, the New Books Network. Sound editing and website design are managed by Siddharth Ravi and the opening and closing theme music is from the song Combat Breathing, written by Vijay Iyer and performed by Vijay Iyer. Linda May Han oh and Tishan. Sorry. If you enjoyed today's episode, please be sure to share it on social media and send us your suggestions for Future episodes@thecastpodmail.com this is Ajantha Subramanian signing off. Until next time,
A
This episode is brought to you by Google Chrome. You think you know a browser, but Gemini and Chrome? That's new. It can help you with practically anything on the web, like restoring a vintage motorcycle from a 50 page restoration block. Or finally break down that long article you've had open for weeks. Gemini and Chrome is here for it, ready to make anything online make sense. There's no place like Chrome. Check responses, set up required compatibility and availability various 18.
Podcast: New Books Network / The CAST Pod
Host: Ajantha Subramanian
Guest: T.M. Krishna
Date: June 29, 2026
Episode Theme: Exploration of the intersections between caste, modernity, and music in South India, focusing on the evolution and exclusionary practices in Carnatic music, and insights from T.M. Krishna's books, A Southern Music and Sebastian and Sons.
This episode delves into how caste structures and social processes have shaped the history and practice of Carnatic music in South India. Host Ajantha Subramanian interviews acclaimed Carnatic vocalist, activist, and author T.M. Krishna about his contributions as a writer, his critical engagement with the tradition he performs in, and his research into both the social exclusions that underpin Carnatic music and the invisible labor at its core.
Quote:
"Writing gave me clarity, a musical clarity that I never have. Forget about social clarity. As a musician, you are trained to look at music in only one framework…the act of making music. That’s the framework. That’s it." — T.M. Krishna (04:34)
Quote:
"A beautiful collective of musicians and dancers…was destroyed. The Devadasi, the nagasvara vidvans, the Brahmin musicians…all created art music and breathed it into the world…modernization destroyed [this world]." — Krishna, as quoted by Subramanian (06:57)
Quote:
"The moment you say Carnatic music is religious music, you have to sing the composition. You have no other choice…The devadasis are disappearing, nadaswaram tawil is disappearing because vocal music is becoming dominant…" — T.M. Krishna (18:05)
Notable Quotes:
"The maker stands at the threshold, keeping the cow and the Brahmin apart, helping the latter maintain his purity. So the maker is vital for the player, yet his role also keeps the maker polluted and unequal." — T.M. Krishna (31:22)
"Wiping out anybody’s mind…knowledge is the way you make that person disappear or that community disappear." — T.M. Krishna (32:11)
Quote:
"For the Mridangam maker, their entire occupation depends on the Brahmin player…You’re kind of stuck in a very, very odd situation as far as the makers go." — T.M. Krishna (36:47)
Quote:
"Being Christian is not an issue. So I would rather not deal with the fact that they’re Dalits, because if I have to deal with that, then I have to deal with the fact that I am asking them to do it only because I will not touch the skin." — T.M. Krishna (48:54)
Memorable Moment:
"The whole idea is most drummers in the world, Amen. This entirety of drumming, it being somehow an expression of virility at some level…tones that are deeper and sizes that are bigger. So I look bigger. It’s a performance.” — T.M. Krishna (55:17)
Quote:
"The word ‘classical’ to me is purely a social phenomenon. It’s a word that just demarcates forms that are part of elite culture. That’s it…” — T.M. Krishna (59:24)
Quote:
"You experience the pleasure very differently when you recognize the violence…what you thought was noise suddenly starts becoming music". — T.M. Krishna (64:35 onward)
"When I listen to that [old] voice of mine, I hear violence in it. And I can’t explain to you why. There’s something very, very egotistical, very violent, very…something that makes me move back." — T.M. Krishna (67:55)
This episode offers a nuanced, critical exploration of Carnatic music as a site where caste is both erased and reinforced; where violence and pleasure coexist. T.M. Krishna argues for the importance of acknowledging the social history, invisible labor, and ongoing exclusions within music, and invites listeners—artists and audience alike—to expand their perspective on what constitutes art, tradition, and belonging.