Western sensibilities with a Karnatik heart

Bengaluru-based Prerna V was introduced to the violin at the age of five while growing up in the UK. Her journey began with Western classical training in the historic town of Reading, encouraged by a father who recognised her musical instincts early on. “He always wanted me to pursue music seriously,” she says.  

Her move to Bengaluru at 12 marked both an upheaval and rediscovery.

She transitioned from Western classical to Karnatik under the guidance of
Vidwan B R Raghuram and later Vidwan Kumaresh Rajagopalan. This presented technical challenges, including relearning frameworks and rethinking musical language. “The funniest thing was the tuning; I’d play something and realise it was the same note, just shifted,” she says. Yet, it also offered familiarity. “Having trained in Karnatik vocals earlier, I found myself returning to something deeply internal.” That duality — of holding on
to one system while embracing another — still echoes in her work.

Technically, her process is as visual as it is auditory. As a design graduate, she approaches compositions through images and movement.

The soundscape of her single, ‘Revati’s Reverie’, is inspired by a sequence of visual moments, like a falling flower
or sudden gusts of wind. “For each
timestamp, I kept thinking about how I could translate images into sound?” she explains. It’s less about adhering to tradition and more about evoking sensation.

That same instinct
shapes her single, ‘Garima’, released earlier this month. It draws from an everyday moment that stayed with her. Inspired by a toddler in her apartment complex who joined her for short drives around the basement, the track reflects Prerna’s fascination with fleeting, ordinary beauty. “A million things are going wrong in life,” she says, “but how are you looking at that one thing that could make your day more beautiful?”

She is also collaborating with musician Aditya Rajaram for an album that explores unconventional sonic landscapes, blending Karnatik motifs into vastly different contexts — from soft, cinematic textures to heavier, metal-inspired sounds. “We’re taking Karnatik motifs and placing them in contexts that would seem unconventional,” she says.

Her earlier track, ‘Chhaya’, emerged from a different emotional space — one of frustration and creative stagnation. “It was just a rant,” she says candidly. “I was doing so much, but it felt like nothing was happening.” Together, her projects outline a broad emotional range: from introspective vulnerability to layered storytelling.

Besides being a violinist, she operates as a self-contained creative unit — composing, producing and layering her own vocals. “I never had a band working with me, so I had to be self-sufficient,” she says. Over time, that necessity evolved into a defining strength.