Swati Bhise began learning dance when one of the best known classical dancers of India was in her heyday. Sonal Mansingh who gave memorable performances across India and the world, putting her stamp on both Bharatanatyam and Odissi, had been persuaded to begin teaching while her performing career was still at its zenith. And young Swati Bhise was her first student. Now based in the U.S., Swati is more than a soloist. As she brings the beautiful Kunqu Opera from China for New Delhi audiences this Friday, she speaks of her own evolution as an artist and the significant if sometimes ineffable link between all its practitioners. Edited excerpts:
How did you become interested in Kunqu Opera?
I am interested in varied forms of international arts and feel that it is an immense education in itself which helps me grow in my own field. In 1999, the Kunqu Opera performed at the Lincoln Centre and their renowned classic tale of the peony pavilion was deeply moving. The performance along with detailed copious notes and study of the art form and an overall understanding far beyond the opera helped me realise that classical heritage arts if not seen would soon diminish.
Does your work in the arts in education programmes in the U.S. confine itself to Bharatanatyam and other Indian traditions or does it involve a spectrum of art forms?
Since 1983 I have been in and out of the U.S. and have been involved in several programmes with the board of education, for example CAP (Curriculum In Arts Program) which is outreach in inner city schools on understanding the arts through education. My field has always been Bharatanatyam and Indian classical dance, but within the American context it soon involved the study of iconography, music, theatre and abhinaya. I ended up not just working with school and colleges but museums where I worked with the curators on specific themes, for example “Role of Sakhi in the Gita Govind” at the Smithsonian in [Washingtion] DC, or “Asthanayaka” at the Brooklyn Museum to name a few.
Dance was never restricted to movement but a complete understanding of our poetry, literature, culture and heritage, and it forced me in a western environment to explore dimensions far beyond the conservative boundaries of just traditional performances. I ended up choreographing the Broadway show “Transposed Heads”, serving as a link between India and the United States by answering many questions under the Lincoln Centre institute program since 1991 on heritage and culture of India for their teacher’s programmes.
I believe you moved to the USA when you were a young dancer, trained under some of the best artists of India. Looking back now, how would you describe the ways in which living there influenced your evolution as an artist?
I moved to the United States at 23 but did not live there for more than 5 months of the year till 1993. After that I continued spending 5 – 6 months in India, not at a stretch but June, July, August as the schools I taught at were closed, as well as December and March. I have never been fascinated by the U.S. and went to an alien country filled with trepidation. I am so glad that I was forced to create an audience and think outside the box without diluting my art to help me further grow as an artist. The exposure in New York to dance, book readings, poetry, theatre, chamber music, workshops, was so enormous that it almost became like a feeding frenzy of knowledge and education for me. I spent hours at the Lincoln Centre library where I was a regular performer accessing material on Balasaraswati the great artist and reading up on their reviews, choreography and early work that they did in New York City. It was the best education I could have had as there were only two choices — give up on my art and do a masters in my major history, or create an entire new vocabulary with my Indian classical dance and use it in conjunction with iconography and the study of temple sculpture and paintings. Once I did this, there was no looking back and I grew as both a performer and artist, celebrating a variety of international arts and learning from them and subtly imbibing new answers that would improve my own presentations. I was extremely fortunate to have been the first disciple of Sonal Mansingh and Kadirvellu Pillai.
A dream title
(Reference: Internet)
“The Peony Pavilion” by Tang Xianzu (1550 — 1616), a Chinese playwright of the Ming Dynasty, is one of the four major works of this writer. These are collectively referred to as the Four Dreams, due to the significant role of the dream in each, and are a part of the repertoire of the Kunqu Opera (also known as Kunju and Kun opera — one of the oldest forms of Chinese opera). While all the Four Dreams have been translated into English once, “The Peony Pavilion” ( Mudan Ting ), considered his masterpiece, has seen several translations.
The story features the daughter of a high level official who is persuaded to step out into the garden for a walk. Belonging to the Gui Men Dan role type, the ideal virtuous young woman belonging to a wealthy or noble family, kept secluded from society within the mansion, she is delighted at the beauties of the garden. She falls asleep there and meets a handsome lover in her dream. The dream is interrupted by a petal falling on her. Pining for her lover, she wastes away and dies. However, the judges of the underworld decide the two should be united and she should be returned to earth. This leads to situations typical of Chinese comedies.
With its stylised character types and subcategories, its situations reminiscent of traditional Indian society and its use of symbols of romance that find echoes in classical Indian depictions of shringara, this art form is bound to be of interest to Indian art loving audiences.
(“The Peony Pavilion” — Kunqu Opera performance.December 12, Siri Fort Auditorium, New Delhi, 7 p.m.)
