Articulate India is a little set-up from the family that owned the studio burnt down during the shooting of the teleserial Tipu Sultan , and every third Sunday, a group led by Mysore Nagaraj, regales local audiences with classy dance shows.
Trained in Kathak by reputed guru Maya Rao, this Bangalore talent drives three hours on bad roads to do this. Why? “When we were young, few supported us, now I’m sixty and I want to pay back to society in some artistic way,” says Nagaraj. He is assisted by Laxminarayan Jena, his protégé and promising talent.
In Puducherry, the Adi Shakti complex (founded by Veenapani Chawla) is a landmark venue for many cultures, and just next door, a serious Kalari set-up has come up, which premiered BHU last month. On the outskirts of Aurangabad, Parwati Dutta, trained in Kathak and Odissi, has set up a gurukul hermitage, which reaches out to thousands. Her success lies in inclusivity, especially to the deprived and disadvantaged.
All over India, such success stories in dance are being scripted by die-hard fans of dance or dancers themselves. In Madras, Spaces of iconic choreographer Chandralekha has come up with technical inputs and vision to help dance. It has been transformed into a viable space for all types of artistic expressions.
It seems the days of creating big institutions are over. Finding land and resources is a tall order and in absence of any real corporate support, new ventures have to be small and beautiful.
Why, even contemporary dance is being performed in select people’s homes. At Oddbird Theatre, outside Delhi, important seminars and events are held. Zorba the Buddha, near Delhi, created by dancer Neha, a student of Saroja Vaidyanathan, is a cool retreat.
Novelty or creativity?
So what is this trend? Is it about reaching out or is it about inclusivity even while being exclusive? Is it the dancer’s perennial search for something new or sheer necessity to create one? Is it about getting new audiences or reaching out to where one lives? All of the above and more.
The more comes from innovative outreach programme for a dancer’s artistry. When metro India is bored to death with choc-a-bloc events (and impossible evening trudge to halls beating traffic snarls), it is the small towns or outskirts of metros (affording accessibility and basic facilities) that have become happening art spaces.
Protima the maverick visionary created Nrityagram some 30 years ago, far from Bangalore on government leased land, but the mother-figure is Rukmini Devi Arundale. Kalakshetra was then ‘outside’ the city. From 1936 onwards, she bought patches of land and thanks to her vision the Kalakshetra — acres of greenery — now lies close to urban habitat.
Dancers all over India are thinking of new ways to reach out. Novel festivals, theme-specific and specially curated are springing up. Not all of them are great but it still shows a love for this divine art, now totally hijacked by television and Bollywood. Nothing wrong with either, except that they are mass entertainment forms.
Dancers not only have to rekindle interest in art but also ensure survival and economic viability. The Government cannot and need not bank-roll everything. Why should art be free? We can pay hundreds for a film or a pizza, why not the same for a dance show?
Despite all this, the Indian dance scene is vibrant and internationally a viable employment opportunity too. Teachers fly abroad to teach and hold master classes. Indians settled abroad are teaching and reaching out. In Houston or Holland, Paris or Peru, Indian dance forms have a presence.
Last week, an Argentinian veteran Myrta Barvie sent her latest book (published by ICCR) in Spanish. I couldn’t read it, but it was full of fine photographs and research, which showed her love for Indian dance. She came here decades ago and today is an icon of Indian dance in that country. At least a hundred such examples abound. Nataraja is indeed a universal dance symbol.
The writer, a critic and historian, is the author of several books and edits attenDance, a yearbook
