Experiences of the traditional gurukul system: past and present

A fellow dance friend was dismayed when her teacher told her she was going to the US for a series of summer workshops and would be away for two months. “Not to worry,” her guru assured her, “we can continue our classes via Skype.” I thought of a musician friend in Calcutta who holds regular Skype lessons with his students in Europe, and reflected that this new trend in ‘tele-teaching’ seems far removed from the traditional gurukul system where students used to live and study under the same roof as their gurus. Students were able to interact closely with their teachers, who gave them dedicated and focussed training, and often taught them not only an art but also a way of life. In today’s world where the study of the arts is often an extra-curricular activity, and teachers are also performers with busy performance schedules, teaching and learning has moved far away from the romantic ideal of the gurukul. Taken in today’s context, the traditional gurukul system does not seem practical or even feasible.

Curious about this traditional system of learning and its viability today, I spoke to musicians and dancers who have had the benefit of training in a gurukul. Some are attempting to continue this same tradition by teaching their own students in the same way. They shared with me their learning and teaching experiences and the challenges of replicating the gurukul system.

An experience learning under the traditional gurukul system

Chennai-based singer, composer, nattuvanar, and music and dancer teacher SK Suresh lived and studied for many years with his great-uncle, SK Rajaratnam Pillai, a renowned Bharata Natyam guru who trained many well-known dancers including Malavika Sarukkai, Priyadarsini Govind, and Vidhya Subramanian. Having closely worked for many years with well-known Bharata Natyam dancer Urmila Sathyanarayanan as vocalist, co-choreographer and composer, he also has his own dance school in Chennai. His mastery of not only music and nattuvangam but also dance, choreography and music composition reflect the all-round training and personal attention he received from years spent in close proximity to his guru from a young age.(Left: SK Suresh)

Hailing from a family of temple musicians serving the famous Murugan temple in Swamimalai, Tamil Nadu, SK Suresh was surrounded by music from a very young age and grew up listening to his father Pandanallur P.V. Kalidas playing the nadaswaram. Noticing the interest he had in music, his great-uncle and future guru, suggested to his parents that he should study music and dance with him. At the age of 12, he left his family in Swamimalai and went to live with his guru and his family in Chennai.

The young disciple spent the whole day with his teacher, observing all his classes, assisting him by singing, and imbibing all there was to learn about music, dance and nattuvangam. “In the early mornings I would practice my singing and then spend the rest of the day with him,” he recounts. “I didn’t have any proper lessons. I learned through observation and imitation and by absorbing everything. Of course he would correct me if I made mistakes and this is also how I learned. I was the only one learning with him in this way under the traditional gurukul system. Also, no one else learned nattuvangam with him. At that time gurus wouldn’t teach all the detailed aspects like laya calculation, choreography and nattuvangam – only dance.”

Another salient aspect of the gurukul system was seva. In return for training, the student was expected to assist in household and other chores, something the young SK Suresh did not mind contributing to: “I would wash his clothes, take him to the doctor, buy his medicines. I would go to the market to buy things, climb up the coconut trees to pluck coconuts, I even did the plumbing and electrical work!” (Right: SK Rajaratnam Pillai)

Having studied directly under his guru for seven years until his death in 1994, SK Suresh believes that this traditional system of learning is ideal for the mastery of an art and feels that this unique experience has been the foundation of his artistic development. “The gurukul system is the best way to master an art because it offers an all-round education,” he says. “At that time, the gurus were all-rounders, they mastered music, dance, nattuvangam and knew all the intricacies of tala, how to compose jatis, the structure to be followed for items, how to compose music, which beats of an adavu should be hard and which soft. When I’m composing, I think back to my time with my guru, remember his rendition of jatis, go through the composition and then compose. The training I had with him provided a strong foundation for me which still guides me today.”

Reviving the gurukul system

Today, of course, the way music and dance is taught and learnt has changed. In India, as elsewhere, music and dance students usually study part-time, commuting a few times a week to meet their teacher and learn in a classroom environment. The study of music and dance has also become institutionalised, with universities and schools offering diplomas and degrees in these disciplines for those who wish to study them full-time. However, there is a renewed interest in the traditional gurukul method of teaching which some schools are trying to replicate. Though there are several residential schools offering training in music and dance ‘in the guru-shishya parampara’, students do not usually live with their teachers, and teacher-student interaction is limited to class hours. Also, a student may have several teachers and not the dedicated attention of one guru, as was usually the case under the traditional gurukul system. Though this concept endures, its form has changed, just as the nature of the traditional teacher-student relationship has evolved.

Pune-based Dhrupad vocalist Uday Bhawalkar, a frequent performer in London’s Indian classical music circuit, studied in a gurukul for many years and teaches his students in his own home, applying the same approach to intensive full-time training as the one he experienced under his gurus. I happened to meet the singer and three of his students in Varanasi during the Dhrupad Mela in 2010. They were having an impromptu class on the terrace of the hotel. Though they were away from the gurukul, this did not take away from class time, and they had even practiced on the long 25-hour train journey from Pune. During the concert that evening, the students accompanied their guru onstage who provided them with many opportunities to showcase their own talent. (Above: Uday Bhawalkar)

Bhawalkar had left the family home at 15 to study and live with Dhrupad maestros Ustad Zia Fariduddin Dagar and Ustad Zia Mohiuddin Dagar, spending 12 years with them in Bhopal and Mumbai. “The daily routine was learning and practicing music from 4am to 5pm, apart from the household work of the gurukul,” he says. “I dedicated myself to my gurus, and learning music from them has taught me a way of life. The Ustads gave us a vision, perspective and approach towards the note, raag and music and made us realise its depths. To learn Indian classical music, the guru-shishya parampara is the only option to learn in a proper manner. It does not have restrictions or constraints relating to time or any other issues. The student learns the subtle nuances of the note and the mood and personality of the raag the moment the guru is inspired to do so.”

Nrityagram: a modern-day gurukul

Any casual visitor to Nrityagram on the outskirts of Bangalore cannot help but be charmed and inspired by the unique creative atmosphere of its beautiful rural campus of rustic buildings, sculpture gardens and outdoor performance spaces. It was founder Protima Bedi’s dream to establish a dance gurukul here, and today, 24 years after its conception, her disciples and now renowned dancers Surupa Sen, artistic director, and Bijayini Satpathy, head of the Odissi gurukul, continue her legacy. (Above: the Nrityagram campus)

Known for high standards and rigorous training, students train here for 8 hours a day, 6 days a week. Scholarships are offered to deserving residential students who wish to pursue dance as a career. Also, over 300 local children have been trained in Odissi for free through the village outreach programme. The residential students participate in the running of the dance community by working in the organic garden, cleaning the gurukul, helping in the kitchen or the office, and assisting the teachers. The running of the school is almost entirely sustained through the proceeds from the performances of the Nrityagram Dance Ensemble, which has received critical acclaim worldwide and tours regularly.

For Satpathy, her guru was not only a teacher but also an inspiration and role model. “She was a multi-tasker and did everything to a high level of excellence. She practiced every day regardless of how hectic the day or how late in the evening it was. To see this as a living example was inspiring and easy to admire and imbibe.” Satpathy and Sen have obviously not only received meticulous training, but have also been inspired by their own guru’s work ethic and strive for excellence, which instilled a total dedication to the continuation of her dream and vision. “Our's has been an exploration and revival of traditional gurukul education keeping intact the core values that govern this system of pursuing art: an intense discipline combined with a shared belief of excellence couched in a community environment,” explains Sen. “We practice dance here as if it was life itself and learning has meant living every moment with acute awareness of the smallest things that impact our lives and therefore our art. Living with a teacher who teaches by example, working for the community, growing our own food, sharing space with people from different backgrounds and most importantly, spending a minimum of 8 to 12 hours in the dance class. To my mind, there is no better way to pursue a dream of being an artist other than this. And I am grateful to have found it.” (Right:Protima Bedi)

The challenges of traditional learning in a modern context

For Sen and Satpathy, there is no doubt that living and studying in a community gurukul setting is the ideal way to gain thorough training in a dance form like Odissi. However, attracting the right kind of student willing to live in a setting removed from the outside world where total dedication to an old tradition is expected, can be a challenge. “Becoming a good dancer is faster when you live and learn as we do at Nrityagram, compared to attending weekly classes, but it is rigorous, physically, mentally and emotionally,” says Satpathy. “To succeed you need patience and humility. Unfortunately patience and humility are becoming non-existent in our youth and without these, this tradition cannot survive.” Sen adds: “Finding dancers who 'believe' in our art like we do and want to pursue it in the traditional gurukul system seem few and far between. Short term 'fixes' seem more the norm and we are constantly trying to find ways to inspire and impact young minds in the modern context to appreciate and help preserve this deeply beautiful art form.”

Though the gurukul system may offer the dedicated intensive training and personalised attention required to excel, it is fraught with other contemporary challenges. “The psychology of this era is that academic education is a basic requirement and art is something additional one may pursue,” points out Bhawalkar. “In this case, there is a division of time and attention. Secondly, most of the gurus today are performers of the art which makes them travel extensively which may lead to less time for the students.” SK Suresh agrees that academic study is given higher value in India today than the study of the arts and that students’ attention is dispersed due to multiple extra-curricular activities, of which music or dance is just another. “The gurukul system is not possible today,” he maintains, “because there is a lot of importance put on academic studies today, and young children today have so many things to do: drawing, swimming, music, violin, etc.” Of course, resources are another obstacle. A teacher may not have sufficient space in his or her home to accommodate students and not have the funds required to provide a dedicated space for a community learning environment. “Finding the funds is an ongoing ordeal,” concurs Sen. “Art requires the support of the government and people to develop and build an aesthetic and nurturing society. Yet this appears to be the least deserving of all in the modern Indian and global scenario.” (Above: Bijayini Satpathy and Surupa Sen. Photo: E. Rousseau.)

In this new era of Skype gurus, the traditional gurukul system seems outdated and a challenge to sustain. However, we have seen examples of how those who are committed to this method of teaching and learning have revived it, adapting it to modern circumstances. Though there are challenges, the outcomes are often fruitful. Sen shares the tangible results she has observed: “Participating in the teaching of an old tradition is a great responsibility and I approach it as such and try to do the best I can. Old methods sometimes have to give way to new to suit a changing psyche. For the most part the transformation that I have noticed in students who come to Nrityagram has been astonishing. Almost like seeing a 'before' and 'after' photograph! And not just in their abilities as dancers but in their overall personalities. And always spectacularly for the better! The passion for the dance is what I try to pass on along with a deep understanding of the language that makes up this art form. In the end, we hope that they will emerge as better dancers and better people.”

An edited version of this article was published in the Winter 2014 issue of Pulse magazine.

Dance jewellery: A trend towards minimal elegance?

Bedecked and bejewelled: Shobana modelling Prince Jewellery's temple jewellery

From the rakkodi on the crown of her head, to the nupura adorning her feet, the classical dancer is literally bejewelled from head to toe. Jewellery is an essential part of the dance costume. It adds sparkle to a dancer’s appearance and enhances the visual effect and aesthetic appeal of her dance, invoking rasa in the observer.

The use of costume and jewellery is called aharya abhinaya, one of the four types of abhinaya described in the Natya Shastra, Bharata Muni’s classical treatise on the performing arts. It mentions the four types of jewellery or ornaments to be worn by a dancer, which “if used properly and with understanding add beauty to the body.” It then illustrates in detail the specific ornaments to be worn by male and female performers. While these number to 16 for men, there are over 38 for women, including six for the hair and head, eight for the ear, six for the neck, at least two garlands of jewels and pearls for the breast, eight for the hands and fingers, five for the hips, and three for the ankles and feet!

Bedecked and bejewelled in this way, it is difficult to imagine how a dancer can attempt even the simplest dance movement. However, after this detailed description, the ancient text does concede that too much jewellery can restrict movement and defeat its very purpose: “Too many ornaments are not to be used lest the artists feel tired or hindered in free movements. Weighed down with heavy ornaments one cannot move much and one is likely to feel exhausted. So decoration not done properly is no decoration at all.”

It is no surprise that many dancers today prefer a minimal use of jewellery. Real jewellery made of pure gold and precious stones is heavy and cumbersome – and not to mention, exceedingly expensive. Among some dancers today there seems to be a trend towards reducing the ‘bejewelled from head-to-toe’ look to one of minimal elegance which responds to the dictate that less is certainly more.

Less is more: Aditi Mangaldas (Image source: her website)

“I don’t wear any jewellery when I’m performing contemporary dance,” explains renowned danseuse and choreographer, Aditi Mangaldas. “But I like to wear jewellery when I’m doing traditional Kathak. Traditional Kathak jewellery is made of gold, uncut diamonds, emeralds and rubies. Most of the jewellery I use is Jadau jewellery which I find in Ahmedabad, Hyderabad and Lucknow. When I wear a beautiful piece of jewellery, it gives me a sense of grandeur even if it’s just a small thing. I think jewellery adds embellishment to a dancer: the tikka frames the face, and bangles bring attention to the wrists because we use a lot of mudras and wrist movements. I like to keep the look minimal but classy. I don’t like heavy, overbearing jewellery. For me, jewellery has to be as light as possible but it also has to look real. I wear only a tikka, earrings and slightly thick bangles on each wrist. I don’t wear long necklaces anymore. I don’t like wearing rings or anything on my feet.”

Minimal elegance: Rama Vaidyanathan (Photo by Avinash Pasricha. Source: Rama's website)

For leading Bharatanatyam dancer Rama Vaidyanathan, the sheer resplendence of South Indian temple jewellery is a good reason not to wear too much of it. “I love temple jewellery because its vibrant colours are very striking,” she reveals. “It’s the ideal jewellery to wear with Kanchivaram saris because it matches so well. But because it’s so striking, I don’t want to clutter myself. The less I wear, the more it stands out.” Rama gives much thought and importance to her jewellery: “I choose my jewellery to match the costume I’m wearing but also according to the theme of the performance,” she explains. “For example, one of my recent productions, Akhilam Madhuram, is based on Krishna and the symbolism of Mathura and Vrindavan, and explores the theme of bhakti. I used Rudraksha beads which are significant for their healing powers and matched it with a Tanjore pendant. I like old, traditional pieces and I often come up with my own designs. My inspiration comes from temple sculptures, old Tanjore paintings and Ravi Varma paintings.”

The vibrant colours of the contrasting deep red rubies and brilliant green emeralds of temple-style jewellery are indeed visually striking. The intricate, often symmetrical designs are inspired by temple sculptures as well as motifs found in nature like flowers, lotuses, leaves and creepers, fruits like mangoes, and animals like peacocks and swans. The traditional jewellery was made of pure gold and embedded with uncut diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls. Today replicas are made in silver and covered in gold leaf, with semi-precious stones.

This jewellery worn by Bharata Natyam and Kuchipudi dancers has a very long tradition dating back over 5000 years to the Nayaka period. This jewellery of gold and precious stones was traditionally made for temple idols by master craftsmen whose workshops were located within the precincts of temples. Nagercoil, a temple town in Tamil Nadu, is famous for its temple jewellery which would be used to adorn the temple deities during important festivals. It was also worn by the resident temple dancers, a tradition which has continued onto the stage today.

Temple jewellery not only adorns and embellishes a dancer, it is also believed to have a deeper significance. Pure gold is believed to promote well-being. The surya worn on the right side of the head and the chandra on the left brings positive energy to the dancer allowing her art to flourish. The rokkodi worn on the crown of the head protects the brain.

In contrast to the opulent temple jewellery of South India, the silver jewellery used by Odissi dancers is elegantly understated. Cuttack in the state of Orissa is famous for its silver filigree work. Orissan tribal jewellery is also made of silver. The silver belt worn by Odissi dancers as well as the tahia or crown, are unique to this dance style.

“Odissi jewellery has a distinct style,” explains celebrated Odissi dancer Sujata Mohapatra. “It adds beauty and elegance to the dance. The tahia (crown) is unique to this dance style and resembles a temple spire. The bengapatia, (silver belt) is also unique to Odissi. The maharis who had danced in the temples had worn many necklaces around the neck and several chains around the waist. The leading gurus had come together and decided on the aesthetics of the Odissi costume and jewellery. It should not be too heavy. The beauty of the body has to be seen.”

Elegantly understated: Sujata Mohapatra (Photo by Alec Himwich)

Inspiration for the Odissi costume came from temple sculptures as well as the Abhinaya Chandrika, written in the 15th century by Maheswara Mohapatra. This text mentions the costume, ornaments and make-up to be used for Odissi and describes a silver belt to be worn around the waist. In her biography of Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra, The Making of a Guru, Odissi dancer Ileana Citaristi recounts when the bengapatia was first introduced: A broken and discoloured bengapatia was found in an old box of jewellery belonging to the mother of a Brahmin from Puri. Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra painstakingly rethreaded the belt and meticulously cleaned it with tamarind. It was first worn by legendary dancer Sanjukta Panigrahi at the All-India Dance Seminar held in Hyderabad in 1963. Now it has become a hallmark of the Odissi costume.

For practical and aesthetic reasons, there seems to be a trend among dancers towards reducing the ‘covered from head-to-toe’ look to one of minimal elegance which responds to the dictate that less is certainly more. Dancers agree that jewellery should embellish the dancer but not hamper the dance. Afterall, as Bharata Muni cautions in the Natya Shastra: “decoration not done properly is no decoration at all.”

A modified version of this article was published in the June 2011 issue of On Stage magazine.

Mythili Prakash: Complete commitment to dance

Mythili Prakash is one of the fastest rising stars of Bharatanatyam today. She has toured internationally presenting her own original choreographic works and is a regular performer during the Chennai December Season. Her complete commitment to dance led her to take the big decision to move from her native Los Angeles to Chennai three years ago, and her career has taken off to new heights ever since. “Since I moved to Chennai in 2006 my experience has been surprising all the way,” she says. “This is really the place to be because there’s so much to be inspired by here, there’s so much going on, and so many resources. I feel I’m in the correct environment and am really happy with my decision. I had initially come to Chennai with the plan to stay for about five months and spend time here, practice, and see performances. But during this time, it hit me that I would be happiest doing this full-time and that to do full justice to my dance I would need to be doing it full-time. I had started a Masters in Fine Arts programme in the US after graduating in Mass Communications from the University of California, Berkeley, but being here is like doing a PhD in Bharata Natyam!”

Mythili was no stranger to Indian stages before her move to India. She had presented her first solo performance in Mumbai at the age of eight and then would regularly perform with her mother and guru Viji Prakash during annual visits to India. She feels that her recent performance during the prestigious Madras Music Academy Dance Festival was an important milestone in her career. “I had already performed at the Music Academy when I was awarded the MGR award in 2000 and an endowment in 2007, but I was excited and happy to be invited to be part of their dance festival this year because it means I am being acknowledged as an upcoming dancer and this is very encouraging.”

Though Mythili has left her native California and moved thousands of miles away to a country she has never lived in before, she seems to be right at home. “I feel completely at home here. My accent makes me blaringly American and it seems to get me attention and everyone has to comment on it, but I feel both American and Indian. In California I feel at home too. But there aren’t many people who are only focused on dance so I feel out of place over there and in that sense more at home here.”

What’s it like to be an American dancer of Indian origin making waves in the Indian dance scene, which can be unwelcoming to dancers they perceive as outsiders? Mythili’s experience has been a positive one: “At first, there was a bit of that NRI perception when I used to come and perform in India. But since I was a young dancer, it was a surprise and audiences seemed impressed and happy that the art form was being preserved so well outside of India. But there’s also a questioning of whether it’s fair for an outsider to come here and take opportunities from local dancers? But I, too, have been working on my dance for a long time and I think now that I have moved here, they respect and appreciate that and I don’t feel like I’m treated like an outsider. Senior dancers and peers have been really supportive. I also feel lucky to have such inspiring mentors like Malavika Sarukkai and Bragha Bessell. I do a lot of my own choreography, so it’s essential to have somebody to guide you and tell you what you’re doing right or wrong every step of the way.”

One of Mythili’s aims is to introduce Bharatanatyam to a wider audience, especially in the US where the dance form is little known outside of Indian cultural circles. Mythili had the opportunity to do just that by recently participating in ‘Superstars of Dance’, a television show produced by the American television network NBC. This televised international dance competition features different dance styles from eight countries. Mythili was proud to represent India by performing solo Bharata Natyam. “I was excited to be part of this project and I think it’s a great opportunity to showcase a dance form like Bharata Natyam on primetime television and try to get it in the mainstream. It was a challenge because I only had a minute and a half to perform. But it was a great experience and I was happy to present Bharata Natyam to such a wide audience.”

This is an excerpt of an article published in the Spring 2009 issue of Pulse magazine.

Visit Mythili Prakash’s website here.

(Photos courtesy of Mythili Prakash.)

Leela Samson: A love for beauty, life and expression

Leela Samson, a former student of Kalakshetra who had the privilege of studying directly under Rukmini Devi, is one of India’s best-known Bharata Natyam dancers. She taught for some years at Kalakshetra and toured all over the world as a member of its dance troupe. She is also a respected teacher, choreographer and writer.

I had the opportunity to meet with her following her recent performance in London, England. We had arranged to meet the next morning at the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan where she was conducting a month-long workshop with a group of young British dancers. As we arranged our chairs in a corner of the dance studio and I tested my recorder, she admitted that she never sleeps very much after a performance because of all the energy and excitement she feels after a show. She didn’t show any signs of fatigue, but seemed rather composed and cheerful. The traces of alta still fresh on her hands were the only remnants of her performance at the Queen Elizabeth Hall the night before.

My first question to Leela was one she’s surely been asked thousands of time: “How did you start dancing?” She started by explaining that she didn’t plan on becoming a professional dancer. She believes that it was fate that made the decision for her. Her father, who was a naval officer, and her artistically-inclined mother who enjoyed playing the piano, had sent their sons to prestigious schools and encouraged them to play sports. They felt that their only daughter should have some kind of artistic education and so decided to send her to Kalakshetra in Madras. This was a long way from Pune where the family was living, but Kalakshetra was one of the only schools which offered a formal education and the serious study of classical dance, music or painting. Leela has fond memories of her days there and remembers being very happy in its ashram atmosphere. When asked why she chose to study dance and not music or painting, she replied that she doesn’t really know why, and that she actually planned to become a doctor! She told me how when she finished secondary school she wanted to register at the university to study medicine. She was asked by the nun at the registrations office why she was applying to study medicine when she had a first class diploma in dance from Kalakshetra. Leela replied that she had learnt dance, like someone learns a sport or a craft, but that she really wanted to become a surgeon. She was then sternly told that she should think seriously about what she wanted to do and to come back if she decided to study medicine. Leela explained that until then, becoming a professional dancer wasn’t something that she had really thought about, and that at the time she didn’t realise the value of a first-class diploma from Kalakshetra. She laughed and said it was like a dancer coming out of the Bolshoi and declaring that she wanted to become a surgeon! (Below: dance class at Kalakshetra by Isabel)

Although the Indian government has offered her land and asked her to start a dance institution in Delhi, Leela prefers to teach privately. She decided at the beginning of her career that she didn’t want her artistic time to be eaten up by all administrative matters running a school entails. She believes that all you need to create beautiful dancers is a small space, and feels she has proven this through all the professionals she has put into the field. She keeps her classes small and only takes a few children as students from when they’re six or seven years of age, and keeps them right through their schooling.

Born to a Christian mother and a Jewish father, Leela belongs to a minority practicing an art form which has become dominated by Brahmins. She feels that she has been kept at a distance by some traditionalists for this reason. Bharata Natyam is a devotional dance form but Leela believes that the dance doesn’t speak a religion, but a universal philosophy. For Leela, Bharata Natyam has become a universal language which is being universally performed by people of all races and religions. “The constant search for something, be it a goal, beauty or happiness, a search for truth or love or the beloved is what the dance and art is about. It comes from the same impulse: looking for something beyond oneself, which is common to every human being.”

Though Leela received very traditional training at Kalakshetra, she has not hesitated to experiment with contemporary themes. She has been doing contemporary work with a group she has formed of young dancers. When I asked her to describe how she sees her evolution as a dancer, she explained that although she is considered to be a very traditional dancer, she has been able to use tradition to say new things in a modern context. For her, Bharata Natyam is a traditional art form which has the language and capacity to speak a modern language. She doesn’t see modernity and tradition as being in two different worlds and perceives things not in terms of past-present, but rather present-continuous: “For me, the fact that I’m dancing as a person of this time, if I’m dancing a traditional art form, for me that art form then becomes contemporary.”

We had been speaking for some time and Leela’s students had already arrived and were busy chatting and doing warm-ups at the other end of the room. I had time for one last question: “What’s the most important thing you would like to communicate through dance?” Leela was momentarily pensive before reflecting that many things get communicated through dance and that each person in the audience picks up on different things according to his or her sensibilities. “But I would say love for beauty, love for life, love for expression. People tell me I’m very philosophical! As a person I am. So maybe it comes out in my dance, I don’t know. I can’t tell. I haven’t seen myself dance!”

This article was published in the Spring 2004 issue of Kala Arts Quarterly.

Photo of Leela Samson by P. Ravindran courtesy The Hindu.

Since this interview, Leela Samson went on to become Director of Kalakshetra in 2005. Rukmini Devi – A Life, her biography of her guru and the founder of Kalakshetra, was published at the beginning of 2010. She was recently appointed chairperson of the Sangeet Natak Akademi.

Visit the Kalakshetra website here.

An Introduction to Indian Classical Dance

(Above: Rukmini Devi)

India’s many styles of popular, folk and classical dances are as rich and colourful as the country itself. Bollywood dance is probably the most popular dance associated with India thanks to the popularity of Bollywood films, not only in India but also abroad. These prolonged and energetic dance sequences are a vital ingredient of any Bollywood flick – along with a good dose of melodrama and a few fight scenes!

However the Bollywood-style of dance seen in Indian films today is something that has evolved over the history of film-making in India. Dance has always been a vital feature in Indian cinema, though in earlier films, the dances featured were always classical, choreographed by the great dance gurus of the time. Renowned Bengali director, Satyajit Ray’s classic films like The Music Room (1958) and The Chess Players (1977) featured professional dancers performing classical (North Indian) Kathak dance. Tamil films like Parthiban Kanavu (1960) and Konjum Salangai (1962) included mesmerizing dance sequences of the (South Indian) classical dance Bharata Natyam by renowned dancers. (Below: Saswati Sen in Satyajit Ray's The Chess Players)

So what makes a dance classical? There are eight Indian dance-styles which are classified as ‘classical’ because they all have their roots in the Natyashastra, a classical treatise on the arts believed to have been written in Sanskrit by Bharata Muni sometime between 200BC and 200AD. This text covers several aspects relating to drama, dance and music. It covers the facial expressions, hand gestures, head and eye movements, and some of the body positions and movements which are common to the classical dance styles.

Many of the classical dances were traditionally performed in temples as a sacred offering to the gods by resident dancers. Today classical dance is performed on stage, most often by solo dancers, though group compositions and innovations in dance choreography are also very popular. All classical dances have two distinctive elements: nritta or pure dance which is abstract dance movements, and the facial expressions (abhinaya) and hand gestures (hastas) of its expressive dance element, or nritya. It takes several years of rigorous training to learn and master any of these Indian classical dance traditions.

There are four classical dances having their roots in South India: Kathakali and Mohiniattam from the state of Kerala, Bharata Natyam from Tamil Nadu, and Kuchipudi from Andhra Pradesh. In North India we find the origins of Kathak, Odissi from the state of Orissa, Manipuri from the north-eastern state of Manipur, and Sattriya from north-eastern Assam.

Traditionally performed only by men, Kathakali from Kerala literally means ‘story-dance’. Performances include several dancers enacting scenes and different characters from Hindu mythology, especially the Ramayana and Mahabharata. This ‘larger-than-life’ art form features bright billowing costumes, colourful make-up, exaggerated expressions and frenetic music which is played by accompanying drummers.

Kerala’s other classical dance, Mohiniattam, is a graceful and alluring dance performed by women, most often solo. The movements are soft and graceful, characterised by gliding movements. The torso moves in circular figure-8 movements with the legs kept in a half-bent (demi-plié) position. The footwork is rhythmical and energetic, keeping time with the music. Mohiniattam dancers are always dressed in beautiful white and gold costumes.

Originating more than 2000 years ago in the south-eastern state of Tamil Nadu, Bharata Natyam is one of the most popular Indian classical dance styles, performed by both male and female dancers. The quick, rhythmical footwork is mathematical in its precision, while symmetrical, geometrical patterns and lines are drawn by the intricate arm and leg movements, and dramatic poses. Like Mohiniattam and Kuchipudi, a distinctive feature of the dance is its basic posture in the half-sitting or demi-plié position.

The classical dance of the state of Andhra Pradesh, Kuchipudi, is similar in many ways to Bharata Natyam with its rhythmical footwork and quicksilver movements. A unique feature of the Kuchipudi style is Tarangam, a technique where the dancer dances on a brass plate while moving it across the stage.

One of the most popular Indian classical dances is Kathak which has three main schools or styles based in the North Indian cities of Lucknow, Banaras (Varanasi) and Jaipur. Kathak is characterised by fast rhythmical footwork set to complex rhythms, and impressive lightning-fast pirouettes finishing in precise, dramatic poses. The rhythm and tempo of the dance is set by the accompanying percussion instrument, the tabla, the sounds of which the dancer’s feet emulate through quick, precise footwork accentuated with the sound of bells tied around the dancer’s ankles. Female dancers wear long flowing ankle-length skirts which twirl and flare out during spins and pirouettes, creating beautiful visual designs.

Odissi, the soft and lyrical dance from the eastern state of Orissa can be described as visual poetry! Considered to be linked to the element of water, the gracefulness of the arm and wrist movements, and fluid movements of the torso resembling waves on the ocean, are juxtaposed with firm rhythmical footwork and striking poses. The characteristic postures of this classical dance are the tribanghi, where the body is ‘bent’ in three places (head, waist and hip) and chawk, a quadrangular posture created by the knees bent outwards and outstretched arms forming a square. The love poems of the Gita Govinda describing the love between Radha and Lord Krishna, are a favourite theme of expressive pieces performed in the Odissi style.

From the mountainous region of Manipur on the north-eastern border of India, comes the graceful feminine dance called Manipuri. With delicate steps and gentle undulating movements, Manipuri dancers sway to the music while moving their arms in slow circles and arcs. The continuous flowing movements and curving of the body into different postures give this dance form a suppleness and fluidity which contrasts with the quick, sharp movements and strong footwork of the classical dances of South India. Like its movements, facial expressions are also soft and subtle. Manipuri dancers wear long, embroidered skirts along with translucent veils. Male Manipuri dancers play on a drum known as pung while executing exciting leaps and turns set to a fast rhythm.

Sattriya originated in the north-eastern Indian state of Assam, where this classical dance has been performed for centuries as a spiritual ritual in monasteries by male monks. Today the dance is a performing art also performed by women in solo and group performances. Though centuries old, Sattriya was officially recognised as a classical dance of India only a few years ago. The repertoire of this classical dance is vast, accompanied by traditional music from Assam which includes a drum called khol, cymbals, flute, violin as well as other instruments. Dancers wear distinctive Assamese costumes and ornaments.

This article was published in two parts in the April and May 2008 issues of Rangoli.