T.M. Krishna

It is a magical night under a starless sky at Kalakshetra’s newest offering to arts lovers: the Padma Pushkarini – named after the late, much-loved Padmasani Teacher, who was responsible for the greening of that august institution when it moved from Adyar to Tiruvanmiyur in the 1960s. An eager audience of young and old listens in hushed silence to the mellow, soul-searching kind of music that the environs of Kalakshetra always seem to inspire. Tonight’s experience is special even by Kalakshetra standards, whatever inspired Leela Samson and her team to create this beautiful performance space reminiscent, according to violinist R.K. Shriramkumar, of the venue at Maheshwar on the banks of the Narmada, where he and Krishna performed a couple of years ago. Vocalist T.M. Krishna appears so moved by the beauty and grandeur of the music that he stops more than once, apparently unable to give voice to his surging emotions in what seems to be a cathartic experience for singer and listener alike, with wet eyes and bowed heads merging into the gentle nightscape of oil lamps and quietude.