D. Balakrishna is a musician who carries the legacy of the Mysore bani of veena playing with quiet conviction while allowing it to evolve through his own voice. As the son and disciple of the legendary Dr. Doreswamy Iyengar, he inherited not only a rich musical tradition but also a philosophy of sincerity, humility, and devotion to the art. For Balakrishna, tradition is not something to be imitated—it is a foundation that guides a musician, leaving room for individuality to emerge through years of patient practice, listening, and introspection. Deeply rooted in Carnatic music, he also finds joy in Hindustani music and film songs, believing that good music knows no boundaries.

As a performer and teacher, Balakrishna values substance over recognition. He encourages his students to develop their own musical identity rather than imitate others, reminding them that every individual has a unique talent waiting to be nurtured. He believes that creativity should grow naturally from discipline and experience, while always remaining grounded in tradition. Thoughtful and reflective, he speaks about music not just as a craft but as a lifelong pursuit of learning, one that demands both curiosity and restraint.

Away from the stage, Balakrishna finds happiness in life's simple moments. Whether taking walks around Sankey Tank, chatting with friends about everything under the sun, or listening to music across genres, he believes life shouldn't be lived with constant seriousness. Everyone, he says, needs time to step away from responsibilities and simply enjoy the company of others. Through his music, his teaching, and his outlook on life, D. Balakrishna continues to honour his father's legacy while shaping it with warmth, wisdom, and a voice that is unmistakably his own.

In conversation with D. Balakrishna

Q: Did you grow up in Malleswaram ?

A: No, I was born in Mysore in 1955. Around 1963, we moved to Bangalore. So, right from 1963, I've been a resident of Malleswaram, though we've lived in different parts of the area.

Q: While researching, we found out that you're a well-known musician. But for a while, you studied Statistics and worked in a bank?

A: Yes, I worked in a bank because my father advised me not to take up veena playing as a profession. He felt it would be difficult to make a living that way. He used to say, "It's better to have a stable job. You don't have to go looking for opportunities. If opportunities come to you, that's fine."

But he didn't want me to depend on music as a profession because he thought it could be stressful. He himself never went after concerts or awards. Everything came looking for him. He wasn't sure the same would happen to me, so he advised me differently.

I graduated from Government Arts and Science College, completed my M.Sc. at Central College, and later joined the Reserve Bank of India. I worked there for nearly forty years.

Q: Can you describe your father’s mindset about the world of music ?

A: He also believed that your music should always be professional—whether a common listener or a student is listening. The way you execute your ideas, play a raga, or present a pallavi should impress both a scholar and an ordinary listener. That, according to him, is what makes someone a professional musician.

Q: Can you take us through your music journey, how did you start playing the veena ?

A: All the while, I was learning and playing music. Initially, I started with the mridangam. Although I enjoyed playing it, I didn't seem to have the same flair for it. Then, one day, I realized that I was actually quite good at the veena for my age. I was around eleven or twelve when I started learning it. My father taught me, and I soon began accompanying him in concerts. Later, I also started performing solo. I've now been playing the veena for a little over fifty years.

Q: You've been practising music since childhood. What kind of sacrifices did you have to make to become a professional musician?

A: It's very demanding. Anything you want to pursue seriously in life requires sacrifices.

Fortunately, I only decided to become completely serious about music when I was around sixteen or seventeen. So I didn't miss out on my childhood.

There are musicians who begin performing concerts at a very young age. Perhaps they miss out on parts of their childhood. I was fortunate—I enjoyed both.

Q: Did you ever want to become anything other than a musician?

A: No, I don't think so. During your teenage years, you have many dreams. One day you want to become a cricketer, another day a scientist, or perhaps a chess player or table tennis player. Those thoughts come and go.

But, as I said, when I was around sixteen or seventeen, music completely took over me. It overwhelmed me, really. Since then, I've devoted myself to it.

Q: Was there a particular moment when you knew that music was what you wanted to pursue for the rest of your life?

A: No, there wasn't one particular moment. It was always there.

Gradually, my passion kept growing as I began to understand the nuances of both Carnatic and Hindustani classical music. I realised there was so much to learn and master. I started devoting more and more time to music, especially to listening. I would spend hours listening intently, doing nothing else.

I also began attending concerts by great musicians. So it wasn't one defining moment—it was a gradual journey.

Q: Your father was such a prominent musician. Do you think his influence played a role in your choosing music?

A: Absolutely. I grew up listening to him. By the time I was four or five years old, I found his music incredibly beautiful. Even though I didn't understand the grammar of music then, it was deeply moving.

Initially, my father wasn't very serious about teaching me. But one day, his uncle—my grandfather's younger brother—heard me playing and told my father, "This boy has a flair for music. Don't deprive him of it. You should teach him seriously."

That was when things changed. Around the age of thirteen, I gradually gave up the mridangam and focused entirely on the veena. Everything happened at the right time.

Q: You come from a long lineage of veena players, and you also teach students. Is there something you hope your students inherit from this tradition? Maybe a habit, a value, or a philosophy?

A: I've taught many students. Some have become excellent musicians.

My advice is simple: whatever you do, do it with complete focus and sincerity. It's not necessary to play exactly like me or any other great musician. Every student should develop a style that suits their own abilities.

Q: You have performed all over India and even abroad, as I saw on your website. Is there one performance that is especially close to your heart?

A: There have been many memorable concerts, but one that immediately comes to mind was in Delhi in 1983. I had performed with my father for nearly twenty to twenty-five years, but this particular concert remains special.

He played Kambhoji, and even now, when I think about it, I feel that for one brief moment I almost matched him. The artistic expression I was able to bring out on the veena was, for that moment, very close to my father's. That concert was well attended, and I received some very good reviews. Even if it was just a couple of sentences in a newspaper column, it meant a lot to me. I was twenty-eight years old then, so you can imagine how excited I was.

Q: How much importance should be given to tradition?

A: Tradition is extremely important because it provides direction. You cannot simply go off on a tangent and play whatever comes to your mind. It may sound good to you, but it may not be acceptable within the tradition.

The moment someone sits in front of you, there is almost a silent dialogue taking place.

In an audience of a hundred people, there may be a hundred different opinions. That is why you have to be careful. At the same time, that is also what makes performing so thrilling.

Q: Do you think a musician, or any artist, needs to have lived through certain experiences to truly play some pieces? Or can imagination and understanding be enough?

A: Not necessarily. While some ragas are commonly associated with happiness and others with pathos, I think those associations have largely been shaped by films and theatre. Music, in my opinion, is meant to create happiness. A raga may evoke one emotion in one listener and something entirely different in another. Music is deeply subjective.

Q: You've been doing this for many decades. Is there any composition whose meaning has changed for you over the years?

A: No. Not the compositions of the great masters—the Trinity. We know why they composed them and the circumstances in which they were written. Their meaning has remained the same.

Q: Do you think it should remain that way?

A: Definitely. It has to be preserved. That has always been the wish of great musicians. We know their history and the times they lived in. It was before industrialisation and before the modern world changed so much. Those were times when people were deeply engaged in spiritual pursuits.

Q: Could you tell us a story connected to this area? Maybe a fond memory, or a place you enjoy spending time?

A: I often go to Sankey Tank—sometimes even twice a day if I'm free in the evening. It's a beautiful place with plenty of open space.

You meet old friends there, and you spend time chatting informally about everything under the sun. I think everyone needs a little irresponsible time in life. You come back home feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

The nice thing about Sankey Tank is that anyone you meet there can become a friend. You simply say hello, start a conversation, and before you know it, you've made a new friend.

Q: If you were to recommend three musical compositions to someone who doesn't usually listen to classical music, what would you suggest?

A: For a beginner, I'd recommend compositions that have already become popular. Nowadays, many of them gain popularity through social media.

Pieces like Bhagyada Lakshmi Baramma by Purandaradasa, Vatapi Ganapatim, Raghuvamsha Sudha in Kadana Kutuhalam, Nagumomu in Abheri by Tyagaraja, and Brochevarevarura by Mysore Vasudevacharya have all become widely loved.

These are slightly lighter in presentation and are good entry points into classical music.

Q: Are there any songs from recent times that you've particularly enjoyed?

A: Oh yes, I listen to film music too. I'm a great admirer of A. R. Rahman. There's a beautiful Tamil song, Malare. I don't remember which film it's from, but I enjoy listening to it.

I also like Nadamaya sung by Dr. Rajkumar in the raga Thodi. Music itself has the power to strengthen and rejuvenate the mind.

Q: Finally, how would you like to be remembered?

A: I would simply like to be remembered as —a veena player.

Learn more D Balakrishna here

https://dbalakrishna.com/