A man often seen cycling through Bengaluru with a kalimba hanging around his neck, Gopal Navale has always believed that music is far more than performance. For the singer-songwriter, guitarist, cultural organiser, waterworks engineer, and founder of Bengaluru's iconic Freedom Jam, music is a way of bringing people together and creating community.
His fascination with sound began in childhood when he first heard piano music and discovered what he describes as an entirely different world. More than sixty years later, that sense of wonder remains unchanged. Largely self-taught, he learnt from radio broadcasts and spent hours searching for records that introduced him to new musical ideas. Even today, he continues to learn, recently studying Carnatic compositions under the guidance of his wife, acclaimed violinist and veena artist Geetha Navale. For him, every new piece of knowledge is "like finding gold."
Alongside music, Navale has spent decades as a waterworks engineer, designing treatment plants across Karnataka. His curiosity has also shaped projects like The Esperanto Project, where he explores bringing together Indian classical music and Western harmony while preserving the beauty of traditional compositions.
In 1997, during India's fiftieth year of Independence, he founded Freedom Jam. What began as a gathering of musician friends grew into one of Bengaluru's most influential independent music festivals.
Whether as a performer, organiser, engineer, mentor, or lifelong student, Gopal Navale's contribution extends far beyond the stage. Through the communities he has built and the ideas he continues to explore, he reminds us that music's greatest power lies in the connections it creates.
In conversation with Gopal Navale
How would you describe your journey as a self-taught artist?
Back in those days, there weren't many resources to learn from. Even the Bangalore School of Music hadn't started yet, so we learnt from the radio.
English albums weren't easily available either. We had to search through places like Gujari and Avenue Road to find them. Finding the popular albums was easy, but we wanted more interesting music. We had to hunt for it, and I think that was one of the biggest ways we taught ourselves.
Other than music, is there something that takes up your time these days?
I design water treatment plants for cities like Mysore and Hubli, and over the years, this has become my biggest passion. Seeing the amount of water wasted by household RO systems inspired me to develop an inexpensive, low-maintenance filter based on municipal water treatment principles. The real challenge isn't the technology—it's changing people's mindset about drinking water. I believe we can reduce both water wastage and plastic consumption, and that's become my purpose. The filter is ready; now I'm looking for the right platform to bring it to people.
Is your family musically inclined as well? Did you get your musical influences from them?
No, my parents weren't musicians, but my wife is a brilliant violinist and veenaist. In fact, I'd say she's gifted. Whatever she touches, she has the ability to mesmerize people.
What was your family's reaction when you decided to pursue music as a career?
I never left my water business. I did both in parallel. In my time, leaving your profession completely wasn't really an option—you still had responsibilities like paying your children's school fees.
Professionally, I'm a waterworks engineer. I design water treatment plants, and music has always existed alongside that.
You perform regularly. What do you remember about your first public performance?
What I remember most is starting Freedom Jams in 1996.
Every first Sunday of the month, musicians would come together and jam as a community. Those gatherings really nurtured me as a performer because the audience understood the kind of original music we were trying to create.
Today, I perform with my wife, who's a Carnatic musician. I take traditional Carnatic compositions and layer them with harmonies and other musical elements to make them feel more contemporary and accessible.
I never want to disturb the beauty of the original composition. I simply want to bring out another side of it. Sometimes, traditional performances can feel inaccessible to younger audiences because of the way they're presented. My aim is to preserve the composition while making it easier for more people to connect with.
That's how our group, Esperanto, came about.
Can you explain the Esperanto project?
The idea behind Esperanto comes from the language that was created to help people from different cultures communicate through one common language.
I wanted to apply the same idea to music.
My goal is to create music that isn't limited to one culture but can be appreciated by everyone. Today, we're exposed to music from all over the world, so we have the opportunity to bring different traditions together.
That's why I take Indian classical compositions and layer them with harmony. Indian classical music has incredible melodic and rhythmic beauty, but harmony hasn't been explored much. I feel that adding this extra layer brings the music alive while still preserving the beauty of the original composition.
It's an ongoing experiment. There's still a long way to go, but it's a challenge I really enjoy.
Did you spend your childhood in Malleswaram?
No, I grew up in Jayanagar. I've been living in Malleswaram since 1981, so it's been about 45 years now.
Can you describe your morning routine?
My day usually begins with a cycle ride, followed by a run. But I don't just run—I carry my kalimba with me and practice rhythms while I move. In a way, I'm dancing more than I'm exercising. It keeps my music practice enjoyable and makes the whole experience much more fun.
After that, I spend some time with my team at the office, mostly guiding them. Then I head down to my studio, where friends join me a few times a week for jam sessions.
I cycle everywhere instead of driving. For me, cycling isn't just about getting from one place to another—it's about meeting people, exchanging smiles, and feeling connected to the city.
I think that's what happiness is: meeting people, sharing small moments, and exchanging smiles with my fellow inhabitants of planet Earth.
We heard you've recently been learning under the influence of your wife.
I'm learning Carnatic music from my wife—not the veena, but the compositions themselves. I learn them and then take them and twist them up in my own way.
When did you want to pursue music ? was there a particular incident that you could describe
It goes way back. When I was very young, I heard piano music and was completely fascinated. I thought, "What a world this is." More than sixty years later, that fascination hasn't gone away.
Music takes me into a different world—an aural world with its own rules. Chasing that feeling has been my journey.
Music also connects people. When two people hear the same sound, they become connected through it. In our time, we'd sit around a record player and listen together. Music was a shared experience.
Why do you feel there's a need to combine different genres of music?
For most of history, cultures were geographically isolated. Today we have access to music from all over the world, and we're discovering that the fundamentals are often the same.
Indian music is incredibly rich in melody and rhythm, while Western music has developed harmony in a very sophisticated way. My interest has been in bringing some of those harmonic ideas into Indian music—not to dilute it, but to enrich it while preserving its original beauty.
When sounds come together and harmonise, they create something greater than the sum of their parts. That's what fascinates me.
What were your intentions when you started Freedom Jam?
It began during the fiftieth year of India's Independence. We thought, "Let's celebrate as musicians." So we gathered some friends, found an amphitheatre, and played music.
What we discovered was that the audience is just as important as the performers. The listener completes the circle. The joy created on stage has to be reflected back by the audience for the experience to feel complete.
We enjoyed it so much that we started doing it every month. Soon MTV covered it, sponsors came in, and more bands wanted to participate.
The biggest turning point came when we hosted the event on my farm. What started with a few hundred people eventually attracted thousands. The event became so large that it drew attention from the authorities and led to some difficult encounters with the police. Ironically, that publicity helped Freedom Jam grow even further.
Later, sponsors like UB and Levi's came on board, allowing us to bring in professional sound systems and create even bigger opportunities for musicians.
The festival continued to grow until around 2007 or 2008, when I decided to step away and focus on other artistic interests.
How do you feel about Bengaluru's indie music scene today?
I'm sure it's thriving creatively, but sustaining a career is difficult. Many musicians devote their entire lives to their art, yet earning a living remains a challenge.
A painter can create a work and sell it. A musician can spend months creating a song and still struggle to find listeners. That's one of the realities artists face today.
I also think people are becoming increasingly occupied with themselves. We don't always make time for art or engage deeply with what others create.
Is there a place in Malleswaram that holds special memories for you?
The benches at the old Malleswaram railway station.
The original station was quaint and beautiful. They've replaced it now, but I still remember spending time there. It remains one of my fondest memories of the neighbourhood.
Interview Snippets
Sources and References
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_Jam?utm_source=chatgpt.com
Gopal Navale
