A Train of Thought that Started at Nitya Nritya

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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.

Ambassadors of Our Art

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

Sampling the Guru-Shishya Parampara

Her lips quiver, her fingers tremble, her eye lashes flutter as she depicts Radha drinking the nectar from Krishnas lips. As Sujata Mohapatra, a leading Odissi dancer, sensually moves across the stage, and the audience is spell bound. Watching her is a pleasure. Learning from her is a blessing! So when the opportunity to learn from her came by me, I did the only thing to do – grab it!

I heard from Mrs. Vaijayanti Kashi, that she was bringing to Bangalore, an Abhinaya Workshop by Mrs. Sujatha Mohapatra. My delight knew no bounds. The fact that I had my own performance a week away and the challenge of scheduling my rehearsals after this workshop did not deter me from instantly registering for the workshop. And booked a spot for myself in a hurry, lest it gets booked out!

Armed with directions scribbled on a piece of paper, I headed out on a Saturday morning, trying to find my way to Shambhavi Dance Theater in Kengeri. A pleasant drive on NICE and a short drive off NICE road brought me to the wonderful ambience of Shambhavi Dance Theatre. The terracotta tiled theatre sits pretty in a garden with dainty flowering plants and fruit trees that house chirping birds and bees. A cool breeze welcomed me as I got out of my car and walked towards the theatre. Inside, I saw several inspirational images, quotes and awards. I knew, instantly, that dancing here was going to be an experience to cherish.

We started the three day workshop with Mrs. Vaijayanti Kashi explaining to us her sentiment towards the Guru-Shishya parampara. Mrs. Kashi has benefitted immensely from this system and is eager for us, younger dancers, to experience the same. As a tribute to this system, she had invited Mrs. Mahopatra. Mrs. Mahopatra, also hailing from the same system, shares Mrs. Kashis sentiment and seemed equally eager to give us a taste of this system. I saw the immense learning experience this was going to be and I quietly smiled to myself. I could not wait for it all to start.

Over the next three days I was immersed in dance. Mrs. Mohapatra taught us the way to move our body with such grace. She spoke to us about her Guru and his undying passion. We spent hours trying to learning what seemed rather effortless to her. We spent our breaks discussing dance. The workshop had attracted students of different dance forms – Bharatanatyam, Kuchipudi and Odissi. We spoke about the differences in our forms and the similarity. We spoke about our love for dance. One evening, we were even treated to a performance by Mrs. Sujata Mohapatra.

The three days came to an end before I knew it. Of course, I could not find a single muscle in my body that was not sore. In the three days I had driven almost 80 kms each day, driving between home, workshop and my dance rehearsals. But I had gained more than I had expected. Spending more than 6 hours each day with such an accomplished dancer had an added benefit. It gave us a glimpse of the special Guru-Shishya bond, which when fully forged, is more than just a tutelage system. It can be an enriching life experience.

I must admit that, as certain as I was about learning new and exciting things at the workshop, I did have concerns about the relevance of this Odissi training to my Bharatanatyam. However, I soon realized that lessons from such great exponents transcend stylistic differences. In fact, when I tried one of the moves I learnt from her at my last Bharatanatyam show the audience loved it and appreciated it greatly. I did not realize that a three day workshop could give me the best move of my entire performance.

Mrs. Vayjayanthi Kashi is bringing to us several such workshops as part of the Celebrate Dance Series 2010 as a response to her receiving the Sangeet Natak Academy Award. This gesture from Mrs. Kashi, where she has provided us with the opportunity to learn from the best, bears testimonial to her dedication to the art and to her generosity as a Guru. If the first of the series is any indication to the caliber of these workshops, then this series is definitely a must-do for all dancers this year. I eagerly await the rest of this series to unravel and I sincerely wish Mrs. Kashi the very best in such future endeavors.

Kari Sidda

This is about my performance as Giddi, in the dance drama - Kari Sidda. Kari Sidda is a dance drama based on Kuvempus poem, by the same name. Its really a simple story of a man and his wife in a village. However, its the way the story is told that is interesting.

Kari Sidda feeding Giddi
Originally uploaded by nu-one

This story is set in Malanad, where the natural beauty is breathtaking. The narration starts out with the five elements- Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, Sky- entering the story. The Sutradar or narrator sets the context by explaining that his story is about a poor, simple couple – Kari Sidda and Giddi. He points out that it’s not a grand story about kings, unlike the Ramayana. To illustrate the point a scene from the Ramayana, Sita Swayamwara, is enacted.

Coming back to our couple, the simplicity of their daily life is depcited. Soon the couple starts worrying about not having a child. After years of worrying, they have a child, who they name Byra. Byra is no extraordinary child. However he grows strong in the love of his parents. To illustrate their loving upbringing a story telling session between mother and son is enacted. The parents also tell him the story of Punyakoti.


One fine day Father and son go fishing. Byra is attracted to the flowers growing in the water. While attempting to pick the flowers, he falls in. By the time his father finds him he is dead. The poet describes the scene. He describes how all of nature was calm. The river that claimed the childs life is flowing innocently, not really knowing what chaos it created in the lives of Sidda and Giddi.