In a city celebrated for its diverse music culture, when quiet carriers of history continue to be lost to by-products of time and progress, we trace the story of Saptaswaram sabha and all that it managed to offer
CHENNAI: In 2017, when Chennai was included in the UNESCO Creative Cities Network for its musical contributions, it was a time of revelry. Popular sabhas and cultural centres were praised for acting not only as a platform for musicians, vocalists, and dancers but also for shaping the image of the city into a global cultural hub. But amid high octane celebrations, several lesserknown performance halls and long-lost sabhas, which once played an integral role in the city’s music scene, were neglected, almost denied reco gnition for their contributions. CE traced the history of one such sabha and its remnants. “Founded in 1969, Saptaswaram, which was located at Triplicane’s Pillaiar Koil Street, used to be one of the very few well-known sabhas in the city.” A tidbit shared in the passing during a conversation intrigued this reporter and immediately, a few calls were made. Soon, we were at V Jayalakshmi’s house in Velachery. Seated in her living room, Jayalakshmi, wife of the late G Venkatraman, founder of Saptaswaram, welcomes us.
Memories at hand
Jayalakshmi turns her attention from the TV to a stack of vintage photographs and a photo album neatly arranged on the table. “Veena Gayathri, who is now a big star, used to perform in our sabha. She was a child back then. I vividly remember — once, while playing the veena, she got up mid-performance and ran to play with a few friends,” recounts the nonagenarian, pointing to a photograph, and adds that greats like MS Subbalakshmi and ML Vasantakumari were also regular performers at the sabha. Hit by waves of nostalgia, she starts gushing about her late husband and his contribution to the field. She turns, looks at her husband’s portrait mounted on the wall, and says, “He was very well known in the arts field. Everyone knew him as GV. He started Saptaswaram. It was one of the few sabhas in Madras in 1969.”
Passion for the arts
The sabha was born out of the duos’ passion for the arts. “The sabha wasn’t started as a commercial venture. It was purely for the love of the arts. GV used to work at a bank. In fact, that’s where he met Maharajapuram Srinivasa Iyer, son of vocalist Maharajapuram Santhanam. They instantly became good friends. Srinivasa Iyer became an important part of our sabha and used to help us arrange concerts,” she shares. While Jayalakshmi and her husband worked like welloiled machines to successfully run the sabha, in their absence, Srinivasa Iyer, used to take over the operations.The once-flourishing sabha met its unfortunate decline after its founder reached his silver years and could no longer manage the sabha activities. Soon after the sabha ran out of funds, it was razed down the late 90s. And after GV’s passing in 2013, the legacy of the sabha came to an end. Jayalakshmi’s daughter, Kalpagam says, “I was too young when the sabha was active. Several artistes used to come home and I interact with them but I never realised that they were the doyens of the music world. Sarasa Akka and I got married, and became busy with our individual lives. We couldn’t keep the sabha alive.”
Of times then and now
Yet, some connections last a lifetime. Even after the sabha’s curtains fell, Kalpagam used to host musicians who once performed at the sabha, at her house in Trivandrum. The family, Jayalakshmi says, continues to be in touch with most artistes. “We are lifetime members at several sabhas. We still attend concerts during the Margazhi season,” shares Jayalakshmi. As we pick the brains of the mother-daughter duo about the functioning of sabhas back in the 60s and 70s, they are filled with a plethora of emotions. “Unlike today, the artistes never demanded payment,” rues Kalpagam. “Artistes like flute Malli never took payment from us. We would pay what we could and ensured that accompanists were also paid. Concert venues like the Hindu School never charged us for the hall. People used to be seated down on jamakalams,” she shares.
Reminiscing ragams
Recalling what made the sabha stand out from the rest, Jayalakshmi says that it was the sabha’s practice of dedicating one month to one ragam and exploring its nuances through musical performances. “Back in those days, people used to sing each ragam in different ways. These days, everyone sings it in the same fashion. Back then, the length of the ragam would change with slight modifications to the swarams. When music enthusiasts attended our concerts, they had an avenue to understand the different ways in which one ragam can be presented,” she explains as she hands us tickets of shows that were staged in the sabha.
“The invited artistes would be asked to present the main and central piece in the chosen ragam and then proceed to other ragams if they wished,” she shares. Despite being the pioneers of such unique concepts, the sabha has lost its legacy in the pages of the city’s history. Now forgotten, the stub of an advertisement receipt for `51 and old tickets — priced at `5 and a few vintage photos are, perhaps, the last remnants of the sabha.