Dhvani Carnatic Composers Day

I attended Dhvani's Carnatic Composers Day in Portland last weekend — a long, unhurried six hours of music. It was mostly a student program with children from 8 to 17, and a few adults, all singing and playing the veena. I found myself reflecting even as it unfolded.

The first sign of joy and relief was the volume level. For once, I didn’t have to even think about earplugs, which are a staple accessory for any concert I attend. The sound was balanced, gentle and perfect. Such a simple thing, yet so rarely done. 

The performances were sincere. Every student held sruti, kept good layam. A few touches of manodharmam here and there. Nothing spectacular.  Yet, I realized I was never bored and wondered why. There was a variety of compositions, including some surprising rare ones, many beautiful pieces of Deekshitar - choices you don’t always expect from students. But that alone wasn’t it. What held it all together was something quieter: truth, and simplicity. There was no attempt to turn any performance into a spectacle. No pressure to impress, no race toward applause. Just music — plain, steady, honest. It felt like a home-cooked meal — made with care, without display. 

I couldn’t help wonder about the contrast to much of what we see today in Carnatic concerts — where the pull of presentation, scale, and dazzle often takes center stage. Where music is packaged as an experience, something to marvel at, something not to miss. Even some student performances become coached forays into show business.  This was none of that.

Good music is not about the grand moment, not about chasing a high or earning validation. It is closer to everyday life — simple, steady, lived. Something that doesn’t ask to be admired, only to be experienced.