When Harini Iyer first typed “Carnatic jazz” into Google in 2014, she had no idea it would set the tone for a decade-long creative journey. Back then, jazz was only a passing acquaintance, but she stumbled upon a SoundCloud page by New York-based musician Kriti Rao, who would later become her bandmate.
“I think I end up making everything Carnatic in a way,” she laughs. “And sometimes it can be annoying for some people, but that’s how I process and express things.”
On 11 August, Harini brings that instinct to Chennai as The Tamil Jazz Collective performs at The Nook, a new venue “where soul finds its sound.” The ensemble, Sahib Singh (guitar), Azan Sherif (bass), Ranakkalmedu Kalainath (mridangam), and Harini on vocals, reimagines popular jazz standards in Tamil, blending Carnatic, folk, and soul influences. “We might even have impromptu guest musicians,” Harini says. “The Nook is run by musicians, for musicians, so that spontaneity is welcome.”
The idea for the Collective officially took shape last year when Harini gave herself the tongue-in-cheek alias Ella Subramanyam, “a humorous take on the fact that I’m a Tamil woman and I love singing jazz.” She began posting Tamil translations of jazz standards on Instagram, which led to a debut live show in Kochi. Since then, the project has evolved into a rotating ensemble of collaborators.
For Harini, jazz standards are an ideal canvas for cross-cultural experimentation. “The whole idea of jazz standards is that they can be reinvented again and again,” she explains. “I’m not changing the melody drastically, I give credit to the original. The reimagination comes through language, improvisation, and the influences each musician brings to the table.”
It helps that Carnatic and jazz share a common destination: improvisation. “In Carnatic music, we call it manodharmam; in jazz, it’s improvisational music. Both are the highest form of the art,” she says. “Kalpanaswaram is very similar to scatting, niraval is like phrasing in jazz, and alapane is akin to what a saxophone or trumpet might do.”
That interplay also opens up a conversation about freedom and discipline. “I’ve always been rebellious,” Harini admits. “Whatever discipline I have in Carnatic music, which is not much, I balance with a freer approach from jazz and soul. This mix is also a way of exploring my Tamil roots. I was born in Chennai but moved often, so this project helps me reconnect with the language I couldn’t read or write growing up.”
One song in the upcoming setlist holds special meaning: Take Five. Originally written by Paul Desmond and popularised by the Dave Brubeck Quartet, Harini’s Tamil version was translated with friends and collaborators. “It’s become a communal project,” she says. “The original is about a woman asking her partner to slow down and spend time with her. I love how that sentiment translates culturally, it’s simple yearning, but so beautiful.”
She recalls how shifting the language shifted the emotional weight. “Language is a syntax to communicate, but it’s also frequencies, vibrations, and placement of vocals in different registers. When the melody stays the same but the words change, the whole feeling shifts. People who’ve heard Take Five a thousand times hear it anew when it’s in Tamil.”
Her other favourite is Rauthiram Pazhagu, an original inspired by Bharathiyar’s poetry. Both songs, she says, reflect the Collective’s ethos: respecting tradition while creating something new. “Everything we hear has been merged by someone before us. Blending traditions can preserve them too, someone who’s never heard jazz might discover it through a Tamil version, and then explore the originals.”
Harini’s Berklee training, collaborations with global artists, and teaching experience have shaped her approach. “Teaching makes you listen better. Collaborations show you how differently people work in different cultures. In Europe, I’ve seen musicians treat rehearsal and punctuality with utmost seriousness, and I try to embody that here.”
She also credits the philosophical influence of artists like Bobby McFerrin. “He talks about how, when you understand the lyrics, the artist is asking you to go somewhere. But when you don’t, or when there are no lyrics at all, the music becomes your own. A lot of people who don’t understand Tamil have resonated deeply with these songs, so clearly something’s working beyond words.”
In her view, music history itself is built on such risk-taking. “Every person who merged traditions at some point was questioned or rejected. It’s only later that it becomes accepted as a form in itself. Hindustani and Carnatic music each have multiple subforms. Every style we now think of as ‘classical’ was once an experiment.”
For Harini, that willingness to experiment is also an act of preservation. “As humans, we get bored, we have to keep evolving. If we don’t, we lose things. So when I merge Carnatic with jazz, I’m not erasing either. I’m giving them both a new life.”
As for what audiences can expect, Harini resists giving away too much. “It’s like using a new lens to see the same thing,” she says. “I don’t want to tell them what to expect, I want them to make up their own minds. But to me, Tamil jazz is just modern Ilaiyaraaja songs.”
Rs 650 onwards. On August 17 from 4 pm. At The Nook, Teynampet.