Brhaddhvani

This presentation by Cory Maxwell, an undergraduate student at Harvard University, was created as part of his final project for a class in 'Classical Chinese Ethics and Philosophy'. Cory began studying Karnatak music in the autumn of 2024 at Harvard University and later undertook a six-week intensive training in vina and vocal music with Dr. Karaikudi Subramanian at Brhaddhvani in the summer of 2025. Following a note by Dr. Karaikudi Subramanian, Cory speaks about how this experience, along with his academic studies, inspired this project.

Following a note by Dr. Karaikudi Subramanian, Cory speaks about how this experience, along with his academic studies, inspired this project: https://www.brhaddhvani.com/post/a-karnatak-meditation-on-the-dao

The meaning of a composition or improvisation in Karṇāṭak music emerges from the dynamic interplay of “Time, Tone, Tune and Text” and from the corresponding engagement of “Mind, Muscle, Motion and Mood” in focused action. Together, these elements form a holistic experience in singing and playing, one in which artistic intention is realised through deep integration rather than through the display of virtuosity aimed at producing exuberance in the listening experience.

This integrated musical ideal, however, encounters practical and social constraints when it enters the sphere of public performance. In Indian classical music, concerts are almost always accompanied by one or more percussion instruments and solo performances for large audiences are rare. Public concerts depend on organisers, organisers on sponsors, and sponsors seek visibility. Performances are therefore shaped to attract audiences with the audience inevitably becoming the focal point. Performers are expected to command an extensive repertoire and collectively produce “music” that appeals to diverse listeners. In this process, the space for engaging a discerning audience at full aesthetic depth often narrows with only occasional exceptions.

One such exception I encountered during my visit to the United States in 2024 when I attended vocalist Amrita Murali’s concert at Penn State University on 18 October 2024, accompanied by R. K. Shriramkumar (violin), Arun Prakash Krishnan (mṛdaṅgam) and Chandrasekara Sharma (ghaṭam). While all the accompanying artists performed with distinction, Arun's mṛdaṅgam accompaniment stood out for its restraint and aesthetic clarity in his support to the singer. Its simplicity, integrity and sensitivity to the integrated “Time-Tone-Tune-Text” framework in the music under focus enhanced the performance 'strikingly in a quiet manner'.

This experience led me to request Arun to accompany my vīṇā, an instrument known for its naturally enriching resonance and inherent serenity. I chose the well-known Tamil composition “Kā Vā Vā” by Pāpanāsam Sivan in Varāḷi. The sensitivity Arun brought to the accompaniment lay in his attentive handling of the interplay between Time-Tone-Tune-Text and the Mind-Muscle-Motion-Mood complexes in focused action. In synchrony with my interpretive intentions, this interaction gave rise to a holistic musical experience, one that moved beyond the imperatives of public performance and returned to music as an integrated, inward and shared aesthetic act. It is this experience that I wished to share with the listener through “Kā Vā Vā”.

- Karaikudi Subramanian

When the teacher and the student are inclined towards the numbers, it is relatively easy to teach a rapid succession of songs, making students feel accomplished as they quickly take to the stage. However, the true essence of classical music will elude them if they do not embark on a serious and disciplined journey from an early stage. Music education can transform into a delightful journey of 'serious fun' when a dedicated teacher gradually imparts the intricate nuances of gamakas, guiding their students towards mastery. In this process, patience emerges as a vital virtue for both the teacher and the learner, as their shared passion for teaching and learning takes precedence above all else.

The following is an example of breaking down the barriers to understanding gamaka progressions, sensitising the student to sruti, laya and svarasthana. To unveil the intricacies of gamaka movements, it's essential to grasp the interplay between svaras (musical notes) and svarasthanas (pitch positions). Designated svaras can transition between svarasthana positions in a manner that only makes sense if you can trace their path - where they start, where they end, and the points they touch along the way. In some instances, oscillations between two tonal positions serve as a bridge to leap to a distant note within the scale.

A svara may or may not start on the tone it represents but surely will end on the tone it intends. These may be confusing at the start, but when they experience, they understand. So teaching gamaka, akin to other intricate facets of music, necessitates a gradual, step-by-step approach. It entails dissecting the concept into its elemental constituents and ushering students from a basic scalar and tonal understanding towards a deeper appreciation of the nuanced tonal shifts prevalent in diverse ragas and talas.

Singing or playing krti requires a heightened sensitivity to listening – both at macro and micro levels – to render them with precision. While a small number of individuals possess this sensitivity naturally, approaching what we often call “genius”, the same level of refined perception can be cultivated by any dedicated student through sincere and sustained practice.
Reproducing a composition truthfully is not merely “copying”. It reflects a capacity to align with the inner flow of its micro-rhythmic structure – a subtle experience of laya that emerges from careful listening and attentive practice. When a student has a guru who is both experienced in performance and patient in teaching, the nuances of a composition are absorbed organically and holistically. When such access is limited, the student needs a systematic way of learning.

Link to the full write-up: https://www.brhaddhvani.com/post/self-learning

Here is an example of a student, Mathuriga, who has absorbed the COMET approach to understanding the creative and structural principles of Karnatak music. This student, born in Denmark to Sri Lankan parents, did not grow up in a typical Karnatak music environment. She undertook the self-learning of the padam “Ekkadi Nestamu” in the raga Saranga, as interpreted by Sangita Kalanidhi Dr. Sripada Pinakapani, known for his intricate and unexpected sangati progressions. She learnt the padam entirely on her own and presented it to her guru for corrections.

Brhaddhvani welcomes advanced learners of Karnatak music to a four-day in-person workshop, The Foundation for Self-Learning, conducted by Karaikudi S. Subramanian. For details and registration, please visit: brhaddhvani.com/workshop2025

We have come far from those times when the connection between mind, heart and soul was complete, truthful and integrated with our lives, reaching inward toward the divine within. From those spiritually elevated souls, we have inherited countless compositions - sung, played, notated and interpreted in myriad ways, supported by scholarship, research and schools of thought. Yet, in all this, where is the spirit? Where is the heart and the mind? What is the outcome?

As musicians, what do we truly offer to our students, our listeners, our audiences? To the institutions and enterprises that support our art? Why do we bring Karnatak compositions to the stage? To project ourselves, our skill, our expertise? Only to make of them yet another form of entertainment? These questions linger in my mind without easy answers.

In this state of questioning, we chose to dedicate what we have learned to the composer himself, in atonement for our own follies. We offered these songs at Tyagaraja’s altar, devotedly maintained by the family, who continue his daily puja.

The experience was cathartic - an inner cleansing.

- Karaikudi Subramanian