August, 2011
Do you think that our art forms need to be preserved? Wait! Before you dismiss this as a question of a sceptic, let me assure that I am an ardent worshiper of dance, devoted enough to make an entire career of it. So before you ignore the question all together, do give this article a read and reconsider the question once more.
The context for this question is an interesting weekend show by Bharatagama Pratishtana & Sangeet Natak Academy. On 23rd and 24th of July, this organization put together a rather interesting program that featured all the styles of Bharatanatyam indigenous to Karnataka. The event spanned two whole days, morning and evening, including presentations, discussions and performances, all aimed at showcasing to Bangalore audiences the rich heritage of Bharatanatyam in Karnataka. I had three realizations during this event. The first was just awe at the antiquity of the tradition in Karnataka, the second- an epiphany about an alternative view on our identity and the third, and the most thought provoking of all, was this question on preservation. I will explain each of these in a little bit of detail before diving deep into this intriguing question of mine.
The first thing that struck me at this event was how far back in the past this journey leads us. The Bharatanatyam culture in Karanataka seems to date well into the medieval ages.
Guru Lalitha Srinivasans’s students presented a highly polished Suladi belonging to Mysore tradition. These pieces go back to the Vijaynagar Empire. Similarly Smt. Radhika Nandakumar presented a Goundali , which is a repertoire exclusive to Karnataka. Dr. Tulasi Ramachandra presented a Perani, pieces that were prevalent in Karnataka & Andhra and now extensively reconstructed in both states. All these pieces are ancient, predating the Tanjore Quartet.
Add to the above rarities, were unique pieces called the Poorvaranga Vidhi. These are unique items very unique to this school of Bharatanatyam and include a Sholaka, some jatis and a Choornike, which is often in praise of the king. Disciples of Guru Shakuntala, grand daughter of K. Venkatalakshamma, presented a Poorvaranga Vidhi that were being frequently performed at the courts of Mysore. Students of Guru Lalitha Srinivasan also presented a Poorvaranga Vidhi that seems to have similar ancestry, but this time part of the Moogoru tradition. To the uninitiated, the variety of the repertoire of the styles in Karnataka was a pleasant surprise.
The second thing that caught my attention was a very different aspect of these presentations – the attitude of medieval Karnataka. It seems like medieval Karnataka was nothing short of Cosmopolitan. Through the two days, we saw presentations in Telugu, Kannada, Hindi and Sanskrit. Bharatakalamani Guru Radhakrishna’s students presented an actual Thumri. Thumri’s are pieces performed in Kathak and it was such a pleasant surprise to see it being rendered in Bharatanatyam style. Guru Lalitha Srinivasan’s students presented an Ashtapadi that seemed to be heavily inspired by Odissi. On one piece I even saw a head piece that resembled the one’s used in Kathak!
I hear many argue that in order to establish our identity, we need to focus on use of Kannada. But medieval Karnataka seemed to draw its identity, not by use of a single language but by it’s open minded, cosmopolitan attitude. Makes me wonder why we in modern Karnataka feel the need to clutch on to our language as a source of our identity. So what if other states stick to one language or another? Why can our identity not be our ability to be absolutely broad minded, adventurous, avant garde and an embodiment of national integration?
My third realization sprung off the pieces Guru Lalitha Srinivasan’s students presented - several modern pieces, under the same banner of this festival. This was the most heartening part of the entire event for me. I often find that when we talk about our dance form, there is immense focus on the traditional pieces and new pieces are almost blasphemous. I almost see trepidation in dancers to do something new.
Sometimes I wonder if the worst part of the British rule was to alienate us from our own ancestors. Often I hear of people talk about our ancestors as “them”. Many of us seem to view our arts as a hand down from “them” to “us”, that we need to “preserve”. This evokes the image of a museum piece in my mind, that sits on a shelf collecting dust. To my mind, we are a part of a continuum, one with our ancestors and Art is a co-passenger in our journey of life, helping us effectively and beautifully package relevant social messages in a powerful way. I see Art as something that empowers us and as something we need to nurture along the way – an ever-evolving medium that travels with us, speaking to us and on behalf of us. If we view it as a delicate relic that needs just to be preserved, are we not in the danger of allowing it to stagnate and gradually losing relevance all together?
So, back to my three realizations – The immense sense of pride on the age old rich Bharatanatyam legacy of Karnataka; The joy at seeing how progressive and open minded our ancestors were and a yearning to carry on that tradition, instead of a seemingly jingoistic language based politics in our art; and finally, a provocative question of “preservation” Vs. “nurture” being the right attitude towards this Art of ours. In my mind, I am clear on how I want to embrace my Art and I request you, rasikas, what would you like to do? Put Art in a proverbial museum or become custodians of a historically powerful medium and nurture it to grow with you and the society around you?
This Article was Published in Ananya Kala Sinchana September 2011 Issue. Click here to read article on page 34
May, 2011
Nupura School of Bharatanatyam recently conducted the 20th edition of Nitya Nritya, an international dance festival in Bangalore. Being the pioneer of such festivals in Karnataka, the festival boasts of iconic dancers as participants. This year, dance enthusiasts of Bangalore were treated to three whole days of dance, covering different styles, featuring artists from all over the country and even feeding their intellect with a though provoking seminar.
Handicapped by my busy schedule, I managed to attend two days of performances and I loved every minute of it. I was immersed in a world of glitter, glamour, beauty and art. As I sat there, allowing myself to be transported from one fantasy world to another, a small thought occurred to me – a little voice asking a little question. But this little question has just been getting several of my grey cells to jump around with excitement. The question was “why?” Let me elaborate.
It all started as I watched Sujata Mohapatra strike the sculpturesque poses so typical to Odissi. She was effortlessly creating beauty of such magnitude on stage that I was just in love with humanity for our ability to create such beauty. I thought of when it might have started. Now, while the age of Natyasastra might be a topic of heated debate, one of it's messages is undisputed
– we are obsessed with our dance, our art and the beauty created thereof; and this obsession goes back a very long way. So the little voice asked the little question: Why? Why do we indulge in art?
Some say that art brings joy. Gowdara Malli, the concluding piece of the festival, told the story of the life of a village girl. It was not a fairy tale story and did not have a Walt Disney ending of “they lived happily ever after”. Malli struggles to gain acceptance into the family she marries. She suffers the loss of her children and her husband. It is a realistic story filled with real moments that perhaps many of us relate to. Some might relate to her struggle for acceptance. Some might relate to her internal quest for strength to cope with the tribulations of life. I am certain that Gowdara Malli struck an emotional chord in the hearts of many in the audience, but joy might not have been the one for all. Joy as the sole purpose of art, does not seem so convincing. Moreover, in our current age of retail therapy & spa therapies, there does not seem to be a dearth of sources of joy. So, there is that little question again: Why do we put so much effort into art?
These days, emotional outlet seems a popular reason cited for the raison d’etre of art. As I observe co-workers spend their coffee breaks, watching YouTube videos, I am in no doubt about the empathetic emotional evocative power of these videos. Just a cricket match alone can evoke a plethora of emotions. Then we have videos of cute children doing cute things, of natural calamities, of the wonders of nature...no matter how stoic one claims to be, I doubt there is not a video on YouTube that might elicit an emotional reaction. So, as it turns out, anyone with a decent camera phone and a decent internet connection could create an emotional outlet. So, there is that little question, still hanging in the air and taunting me.
One might suggest that dance was an effective tool for education and story telling in the yester-years. In our current age of state of the art educational tools, would dance then not render itself out-dated? And yet, there I was, at Nitya Nritya, watching Gayathri & Balagurunathan unravel the tales of Narasimha. The audience watched spell bound Sujata Mohapatra bring to life the tale or Mareecha and Jatayu. Why is that we are not content with Cartoon Network tell our tales and fables? Why do we spend years perfecting our adavus & mudras and fine tune our abhinaya? Why do people leave the comfort of their couches, brave the Bangalore traffic, to attend such festivals, to watch the stories that they are so familiar with?
There is no doubt in my mind that art is still alive and thriving in this age of animations and YouTube. Take a look at the burgeoning number of dance & music festivals around the country and, as they say in marketing parlance, there is a growing market for art. Take another look, this time at what is being presented in these festivals, and it will lay all doubts to rest about art being part of the modern day world. Atah Kim was a piece presented in Nitya Nritya, by Kumudini Lakhiya’s group of Kathak dancers. The piece was modern in its choice of music & costume. It is an attempt at an onward journey in dance, towards modernity. Atah Kim, loosely translated means “where do we go from here”. Forward looking pieces like this stand at the vanguard of this artistic journey and assure us that, regardless of technological advances, regardless of the multitude of recreational options, regardless of state of the art educational tools, art will still forge on, creating beauty all along. But why?
Is “beauty” in itself an end goal? Do we, as humans have an inherent need to experience beauty, irrespective of the emotions it evokes, of the lessons it teaches, of the stories it tells? People dedicate their lives to several causes: poverty, environment, education etc. While art might not, in any obvious way, seem as grave as any of these, it still manages to find people who dedicate their whole lives it. I watch my guru, Smt. Lalitha Srinivasan, as I practise in class. I see in her eyes an ardent dedication to dance. I watched as all her students come together to make Nitya Nritya happen. It was evident that their love for their guru motivated them. But their love for dance was unmistakable. A lifetime dedicated to art! How does art elicit such dedication from us? It is perhaps because, as humans, we need beauty to feed our soul and remain human.
As I drove home after Nitya Nritya, I wondered. We might perhaps not know what exact need art meets in us. But it is more than evident that we need it. And this revelation in itself should be enough for us to consciously bring art into our world. Learn & practice more of it, expose ourselves to more of it, learn to appreciate more of it. While I busy myself with more practice and more learning, this question will continue to linger in my mind: Why? Anthropologist the world over might continue to ponder about the exact need that drives our unrelenting efforts to promulgate art. It might make for interesting discussions among intellectuals. Even if we never know what exact need in us that craves art, we do know that, in some in-explicable way, art leaves us happier and more content.
January, 2011
Recently I was doing some research on dance festivals across the world. As with all research, I started my search on Google. I typed “dance festival” and was quite surprised by what I found. Almost all the results on the first page were links to dance festivals in India. Be it on the internet or in the real world, India seems to have no dearth of dance festivals.
I was recently at Sai Nrityotsav in Bangalore. The festival showcased several budding dancers of different styles. The concluding Odissi performance, choreographed by Smt. Sharmila Mukharjee, reminded me of the Konark Dance festival I attended last February. Konark was a magical experience for me, with its larger than life stage set up and artists of even larger repute. Listening to the magical voice of Dr. Balamurali Krishna or watching the mesmerising performance of Smt. Sujata Mohpatra transported me an indescribable world of beauty and joy. As I watched the emerging artists at Sai Nrityotsav, it brought just as much joy. While Konark was showcasing the grandeur of Indian art and the greatness of its practitioners, Sai Nrityotsav was giving a glimpse into the future of our art. The range of availability of such platforms is indeed heart-warming.
However, what bothered me about both these festivals is the audience availability. The audience seems to be rather abundant and enthusiastic at the performances of the most popular artists or those of their own kith and kin. As the other performers hit the stage, the audience seems to start thinning out. As I saw, in both festivals, audiences selectively pick what they want to watch and walk out on several mind blowing performances, simply because they were lesser known artists, I could only shake my head.
This selective availability of audiences poses a formidable challenge to new artists. A new artist needs to either come from a well-known lineage or have art patrons in his or her immediate circle of friends or family. Artists coming from any other circumstance risk being lost to oblivion. But more importantly, the field of art risks losing possible game changers and significant contributors. If our art has to grow at the full potential of available artists, then we absolutely need to provide audiences to new, lesser known artists.
As I sit back and ponder on who could address this seemingly unfair distribution of audiences, I am struck by the realization that I myself might be able to address it. Most of my own friends and family only watch performances of famous artists or those of mine. They often rely on my recommendation on what else to watch. Without such recommendation, they too leave after my performance! Today, there is no dearth of artists or of platforms. An average person absolutely has no time to attend them all. So how does one identify what to watch? By relying on my recommendations. So, if I were to identify and recommend, lesser known, promising artists, then I could play a non-trivial role in increasing audiences. This realization instils in me an immense sense of responsibility.
Most artists, me included, believe we are here to serve a larger purpose – that of serving the art. We spend years learning, hours practising and leave our hearts out on the stage when we perform. We worship and love our art. But are we doing all we can for our art? I contest that we can do more.
As artists, we can and should be ambassadors of our art form, spreading the message of our art to the world of non-artists. We should be watching more, talking more about these new artists and educating our social circle on the intricacies of our art and its practitioners. We have with us the ability to make people around us see and appreciate the beauty of our arts and enrich their own lives. We have the ability to identify emerging talent, thus making significant contribution to our art form. While festivals like Sai Nrityotsav and Konark Festival are doing their part in creating the platform for art, the question to us as artists is, “Are we making the best use of our ability and knowledge in serving our art or are we limiting ourselves to a one dimensional approach towards this? If we can do more, what is stopping us? If our art form benefits, do we not?”.
This article was published Narthaki Website. Click here to view article
