Western chamber opera blends Buddhist wisdom and Carnatic improvisation

The Hindu

2 days ago

Published : Jul 06, 2025 08:28 IST - 3 MINS READ
'This is perhaps the first time that Indian classical music, in its improvised, living form, is present in an opera of this scale,' began the noted Carnatic vocalist Aruna Sairam. She was speaking to Frontline from LUMA Arles, a contemporary arts foundation at the Parc des Ateliers in the city of Arles, France, ahead of the world premiere of the chamber opera The Nine Jewelled Deer, in which she plays the dual roles of a clairvoyant queen and a grandmother.
Composed by Sivan Eldar, with visual art by Julie Mehretu and libretto contributions from the novelist Lauren Groff, this opera directed by Peter Sellars features the voices of the singer-librettist Ganavya Doraiswamy and Aruna Sairam alongside a cross-cultural ensemble of soloists on the clarinet, saxophone, violin and cello, and for the first time, the mridangam, played by the percussionist Rajna Swaminathan.
The Nine Jewelled Deer was born of an unlikely jugalbandi between two women from vastly different artistic worlds. When Ganavya heard Sivan Eldar's opera-in-progress at an artists' residency in Tuscany in 2021, she told her: 'I listened to your music … and I just thought of my grandmother. And I've had this dream of creating a project that is inspired by the story of my grandmother.'
By the end of that residency, Sivan Eldar was aboard Ganavya's dream project. They were joined by Ganavya's long-time collaborator and theatre director Peter Sellars from Los Angeles, and Aruna Sairam from Chennai. The conversations continued across continents and time zones over many months. Slowly, steadily, an oratorio on loss, resilience, and renewal came into being.
The Nine Jewelled Deer braids together three distinct strands of story: a Jataka tale of the Ruru deer, the first chapter from the early Buddhist text Vimalakirti Sutra, and the life of the jalatarangam artist Seetha Doraiswamy (1926–2013). The parable of the eponymous deer which embodies a love so vast it embraces even betrayal is surely a parallel for the times we live in, perhaps meant to make one reflect on the long arc of both suffering and healing.
Aruna Sairam spoke at length about the rehearsal process, the long weeks of immersion, improvisation, listening and learning. She said: 'As a Carnatic musician I'm improvising all the time—no two versions of my singing are the same. Whereas they [the practitioners of Western classical music and opera] are used to written scores. So we've spent weeks learning how to respond, not with certainty, but with curiosity. And over time, your listening becomes sharper, your vision clearer. It's like zen.'
For Ganavya, the opera is also a personal tribute to her grandmother. Jalatarangam means 'waves in water', and Seetha Doraiswamy made waves making music using porcelain bowls filled with varying levels of water. Her kitchen was a safe space, a refuge for countless young female students within a stifling patriarchy and cultural orthodoxy. As Sivan Eldar put it memorably in an interview, for Seetha, her 'kitchen orchestra' was equal to playing in Carnegie Hall. In the same interview, Peter Sellars pointed out that hers was 'a music of refugees. A music of feeding people, both with food and with spiritual replenishment, with courage, with love.'
The strands of story in The Nine Jewelled Deer seem to suggest that compassion and care, not conquest, may be the more radical act of resistance. As Sellars reminds us, 'We don't need to go find a deer. We don't have to go get a Buddha.' The Buddha is already amongst us, within us.
The Nine Jewelled Deer premieres at LUMA Arles on July 6. The performances will continue at LUMA Arles on July 8 and 9, and then move to the Théâtre du Jeu de Paume in Aix-en-Provence from July 13-16.