Why Chennai’s Margazhi Season Still Packs a Punch (Even in 2026)

Walk into a sabha during Chennai’s Margazhi Season, and you feel it instantly: the buzz in the air, the rustle of programs, the polite hum of excitement — and that unmistakable sense that something timeless is unfolding. Take T.M. Krishna’s December 25, 2025 concert, dedicated entirely to Muthuswami Dikshitar. The hall overflowed, extra chairs were crammed in, and a TV had to be set up outside for rasikas who couldn’t get a seat. Applause thundered after every kriti. Why? Because classical music, done with heart, still matters — and it’s far from just nostalgia.

Here’s the slightly controversial thought: in a world dominated by TikTok loops, Spotify playlists, and infinite global musical choices, you might assume Carnatic music is quaint, niche, or “old-fashioned.” Margazhi proves otherwise. There’s something transformative about sitting in a hall where strangers become comrades over a shared raga, or quietly contemplating a lesser-known kriti that stretches the mind and soul. Tradition isn’t a museum piece; it’s alive, breathing, and surprisingly relatable — if you let it be.

Language amplifies this magic. Tamil compositions don’t just preserve culture; they make classical music emotionally immediate. Sanjay Subrahmanyan’s Tamilzhum Naanum is a brilliant example — the poetry, diction, and cultural resonance hit differently when you grasp the heartbeat behind the notes.

Even the traditional margam in Bharatanatyam — the heroine pining, lamenting, fretting over her lover — can feel… well, a little stuck in time. But when Shobana takes the stage at Krishna Gana Sabha, performing a classic lineup with conviction, it proves a point: storytelling and artistry, executed well, still captivate. Tradition, when handled right, works.

And let’s not forget innovation. Chennai’s artists aren’t trapped in amber. Carnatic-progressive rock-pop band Agam has cracked fusion, turning Purandaradasa and Tyagaraja kritis into electrifying, genre-bending experiences. Soloists are collaborating across borders, experimenting with concert formats, and daring to reinterpret the canon — like Vignesh Eshwar singing Ik Omkar from the Guru Granth Sahib! Chandralekha’s radical vision still inspires dancers today, reminding us classical arts are anything but rigid.

Even the Grammy nods this past year signal something clear: Indian classical music isn’t just surviving; it’s thriving, evolving, and influencing musicians globally. From Zakir Hussain to Anoushka Shankar, artists draw from deep tradition while rewriting what’s possible.

So, why does Margazhi still matter? Because it proves that classical traditions can be vibrant, adaptable, and supremely relevant. They’re not trapped in the past — they’re conversation starters, boundary pushers, and culture carriers. Whether you’re 16 or 60, whether your playlist is EDM, indie rock, or jazz, there’s space for the ethereal elegance of a raga, the emotional pull of a kriti, or the poetic resonance of a Bharatanatyam margam.

In 2026, as AI-generated music, hybrid genres, and immersive performance tech take off, classical arts anchor us. They remind us that music isn’t just sound. It’s memory, emotion, intellect, and yes — a little bit of controversy about why the “old ways” still hold magic in a modern world.

Takeaway: Don’t scroll past the concert listings next Margazhi. Step in, listen, feel, and maybe — just maybe — you’ll understand why Chennai keeps its traditions alive with such heart, fire, and fearless relevance.

Shruthi, with love and melody.