In the world of classical music, Ranjani and Gayatri are RaGa, the Carnatic collective name that has come to define the genre through their musical eloquence and their stance against accusations of exclusivity.
Their recent visit to Thiruvananthapuram for the Madhusaukumaryam festival — an annual event organised by music director M Jayachandran in memory of his parents — drew Carnatic aficionados and students alike for being “textbook precise”.
Their journey is one of steadily rising into the higher realms the art form offers, while standing firm on the sanctity they believe it must hold.
From their childhood as violinists to their evolution as vocalists, the Chennai-based duo’s has been a path marked by fidelity to both art and heart. Beyond the technicalities of their music, their style and presentation have helped cultivate a devoted fan base, including groups who attend concerts in twinning attire inspired by the sisters.
Their mass appeal also stems from the accessibility they brought to their performances: the Ilaiyaraaja songs they carried with them to narrate the Carnatic story, and, up north, the abhangs and their taste for Hindustani music which won them wide applause.
Today, they stand as pan-India musical icons, celebrated for their sister act as much as for their elegant sarees that reflect indigenous cultural weaves. TNIE catches up with RaGa, who feel Kerala has “great warmth for the art”. Excerpts:
Carnatic pairs are generally quite famous in music circles. How has it been performing together?
Ranjani: A lot of synergy goes into it. When we perform, she brings immense creativity. She is so invested. I am always prepared to be surprised, and I am every time. When I sit with her, there is a constant give and take. The purpose is clear.
So the kinship evolves naturally?
Gayatri: Yes, there is a certain kinship. We trained under the same guru. That said, music is also an individual journey. There is a lot of negotiation involved. So Ranjani, in her individual capacity, and Gayatri, in mine, must look at RaGa as a third entity and do whatever it takes to build something together.
How much has being siblings influenced this?
Gayatri: I feel very blessed, because she (Ranjani), being the elder one, gives in a lot, and I have enjoyed that care and motherliness. And whenever I need a push or encouragement, she is ready with that ‘aaha’.
Ranjani (intervening): No, no… the ‘aaha’ is not because she is my sister or because she needs encouragement. It is an exhilaration that comes naturally. Her music creates that environment.
Gayatri: But her presence is my motivation, on stage and off it. That said, we are separable too.
Ranjani: We have our families, our individual mindspaces, and then this world we share through music, which flows beautifully. That explains RaGa.
You grew up in Mumbai, started off as violinists, and then took up vocals. How was the transition? What made you choose music as a career in the ’90s?
Ranjani: Our family initially thought music was more of a passion. We did academically well too. Our grandmother had bank jobs in mind for us. She felt it would be ideal — we could work till 3pm, return home to take care of the family, go for a kacheri by 6pm, and even get a pension (laughs).
We began performing by the time I was 13 and Gayatri was 10. So before we realised it, we were performers, first accompanying veterans on violin and later, on our guru’s suggestion, as vocalists.
Gayatri: As for whether music can be seen more as a career now, well… it is a mixed bag. Any path towards excellence is a hard one. Excellence is in your hands. Success is often a byproduct.
We were groomed to develop a firm grip on our art. Our father insisted on complete dedication to the fundamentals in the initial years, which would later set the tone for improvisation. And in the Mumbai of the 1990s, only the best musicians from south India performed — such as Mandolin Srinivas, K S Gopalakrishnan, and Neyyattinkara Vasudevan sir. So we could never allow ourselves to remain at amateur standards.
Carnatic music seems to be gaining more popularity among today’s youth, with creative independence bridging genres. How do you view this?
Ranjani: It is a wonderful aspiration to bridge musical gaps. Carnatic music is about an equanimous space deep within, where the ‘I’ factor remains subdued. Creative substreams can converge, and open new learning paths. Many changes have come into the Carnatic realm. The kacheri format, credited to Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar, was once new. But openness to change enabled improvisations. Change is good. We must remain humble enough to accept that it is change that chooses us to make something happen.
You opposed the controversy that erupted over the Music Academy award. How do you respond to accusations of exclusivity?
Gayatri: Every generation has its share of showmen and greats. As for the accessibility of Carnatic music, nobody has erected, or is erecting, any walls. Look at the doyens, they come from such diverse backgrounds. Carnatic music has always been inclusive. And how can the accusation of exclusivity be foisted on any community? It is true that certain communities stepped forward to conserve traditional art forms when they faced cultural challenges. Classical arts demand effort. To accuse the system of lacking public involvement is a misrepresentation, and such accusations help no one.
Talking of inclusivity, you are known for popularising abhangs (which cut across social hierarchies) in modern Carnatic recitals…
Ranjani: Not just abhangs, we sing many viruttams or verses sung through manodharma (impromptu improvisations), using multiple ragas and following the natural metre of the poetry. We have done ‘Raja by RaGa’ on Ilaiyaraaja’s compositions, but always telling the Carnatic music story, which has brought in a diverse audience.
Our ‘Rasa by RaGa’ is an effort to explore the emotional essence of classical music. And emotions are not exclusive to anyone. Our aim is to bring people to concerts… to experience the live energy, not just tidbits on YouTube. This is not easy. Anyone can sit and pontificate ‘Oh, this is not inclusive’. But the reality lies in walking the path and making it accessible to all.
You spoke of emotions. How has the journey with music been for you in that sense?
Ranjani: It has been the raison d’etre. A deeply spiritual journey.
Gayatri: And this personal experience is sometimes countered by others. I feel it depends on the maturity of the musician. When a musician says this is art and not a spiritual path, that person is speaking for themselves. For Tyagaraja, it was spiritual. Similarly, a rasika feels emotions unique to themselves, often very different from those of the musician.
For me, all sublime feelings of connection to my deeper self have happened in beautiful moments of music. These are the times when personal and professional realms merge.
Ranjani: If you can call that God, then our path to God is through music. We have felt this both through instrumental practice and through the poetry (sahitya) of Carnatic vocals. It certainly cannot be dismissed as ‘just art’.
As we wrap up, I must ask about your twinning costumes...
Gayatri: They are made-to-order, though at times we get lucky and find contrasting colours. We love tradition — both weaves and music. We also experiment with fusion in weaves: Kancheepuram and Banarasi, mixes of thread silks, and more.