Samanth will be starting a new column over at the Mint called Raagtime. His first piece entitled "Change and Continuity" is absolutely lovely.

In my mind, for many years, the word “classical” evoked a vision of Ancient Greek or Roman statuary: pristine, stern, inflexible marble, the very literal example of being “set in stone.” The classical arts are popularly imagined to be just as unyielding, not to be sullied by any stray influences. An image that daunting can, and does, put people off; just as unfortunately, it can also be thoroughly misleading.

Carnatic music shows how a classical art can also be an open and pliant art, and how change and evolution can be the breath of life, rather than the kiss of death. There’s no doubting its classicism, of course. Many of the ragas in Carnatic music today derive from the musical “moods” of Tamil music from the first few centuries of the Common Era, and notable scholarship dates back to at least the 17th century. This is an old, old art.

But the quintessential Carnatic music concert today is a product of the times it has passed through. The violin, for instance, is an integral part of the ensemble today, but it was introduced into Carnatic music less than 200 years ago, when it rode the wave of European influences that crashed on Indian shores.

Other alien instruments have been accepted, even by relatively conservative audiences, with an alacrity that is both surprising and pleasing. U Srinivas began playing Carnatic music on the mandolin in 1978, and today he plays to a packed Music Academy, in a prestigious evening slot, during the December Season. Kadri Gopalnath plays Carnatic music on a saxophone as golden as his regulation kurta. R. Prasanna is so indelibly associated with his instrument that he is simply known as “Guitar Prasanna.”

For more, step over to the Mint's website.