Margazhi… here, there, now everywhere

A Margazhi concert where the audience decides what the singer should sing and asks questions in between; the singer decides how long each piece should be; all in the comfort of a cosy drawing room. Such a scenario was unthinkable a few decades ago, but why not, asks budding singer Swarathmika Srikanth and her ensemble. This is why she opens up her home or that of her instrumentalists for concerts. "We are open to anyone with a space who can host us."In a typical sabha kutcheri, there are many restrictions—singers have to choose from a list of pieces provided by the organisers, and the duration and dress code are pre-set. Swarathmika and her team wanted to break free from all of it, which is why they launched their own concert, naming it ‘Namba aathu katcheri' or ‘Our home kutcheri'. "There is no role for the rasika in a traditional sabha. Here we encourage them to interact with the artist, and with each other."About 50 people attended in person and another 100 people online, on the first of the series in January. "We don't consider this a ‘sabha concert' per se, but more like a group of friends jamming, where we wear what we are comfortable in," she says. "The focus is on the music and not the presentation."If a home can be a venue for the yearly Carnatic music and dance festival, why not a café or a sari shop? "During the previous December music seasons, we conducted concerts at bookstores, restaurants, and a yoga studio," says Akhila Krishnamurthy of art management company Aalaap. This year, Aalaap has curated performances and conversations at the sari store Kanakavalli at Chetpet, and at the Gobbelin Café in Adyar."The intent is to draw different kinds of audiences. You associate a ‘sabha audience' with a certain set of people. But there are also those curious about classical music who might be intimidated by the sabha space. When a classical music concert is held in a space like a café, these people might be open to attending it."Rather than a full-fledged performance, these events are interspersed with conversations with the artist, with some snacks at the end. "We wanted our café to be a space where food is just one of many elements over which people can connect. My husband and I are into music, so we decided to host a classical music concert for the first time to get the current generation introduced to it," says Supriya Chohan, owner of Gobbelin Cafe."Purists might not agree, but if we want art to travel beyond a conventional audience, unconventional venues are the way to go," says singer Vandana Srinivasan, who will be performing at Kanakavalli.Both kinds of settings have their charm but of late, says actor-writer Janaki Sabesh, she has started veering towards the more informal venues. "The sabhas have an old-world charm, where one would go for serious music perhaps, but the cafes offer more meaningful engagement. As a storyteller, I'm looking for conversation, and I'm interested in hearing about the performer's journey. Intimate spaces bring the audience closer to the artist."As Wesley Crispus, one such audience member, puts it, "A kutcheri in a sabha is like wearing traditional silk, while in a café, it's like slipping into comfortable cotton."Such spaces will help many start their listening journeys, Janaki feels. "When artists are ready to explore new venues, the audience will follow."The geographic expansion of Chennai has also made it a necessity to hold concerts across the city, as over time, it became difficult for everyone to reach sabhas in the core city and find parking, says Anil Srinivasan, pianist and educator. "And though the first sabhas were formed in the late 1800s, they started blossoming only in the past 40 years. Chamber music without amplification and playing to a small community; we're essentially going back to what classical music was originally."Classical music has always been a niche form, and filling large halls will always be a challenge, he says. Not surprisingly, such ventures have their own share of critics. "We have a surprise bowl session where artists pick a chit and if it shows thillana (performed at the end), they sing it first. How can you break the paddathi or order of singing, people have asked," says Swarathmika.But newer formats and venues are a natural evolution, and the shift has already occurred, says Anil. "We've entered an era of creative freedom where people want things on their own terms, not restrictive ones. An art form is only as relevant as the community that consumes it."