I n an exchange with Malavika Sarukkai in the space her dance studio opens out to, with the delightful bougainvillea at the side, its pink blossoms lending a fine touch of colour, I ask her about the latest ‘Acharya’ award bestowed on her by The Music Academy, which comes at a time when she is on the verge of reaching the landmark of 50 years of dancing and 45 years of performing. She plans to be in Chidambaram before the Lord to offer her samarpanam. The Bharatanatyam exponent speaks about her journey.
How does the title of ‘Acharya’ fit in?
I think it means the overall contribution to the art form — your legacy and what you have achieved in so many years .
It is as a performing artist that you have attained so much fame. Teaching seems to be a more recent interest.
I did teach youngsters from ‘taiya thai’ to tillana, running a school here for ten to 15 years. I even presided over two or three arangetrams, but with no speeches, no chief guestand no grand invitation cards. Arangetrams have become social events now, and what is just the beginning of stepping on to the stage after seven years of learning, is being regarded as a concluding glory. But I began to think, ‘Do I really want to do this?’’ with students taking to different paths and that was that.
But you are now engaged in some form of teaching. How is it different?
I now work with committed and intelligent dancers, who already have learnt the technique from their gurus. I want them to be made aware of a greater vision of dance. There are not too many dancers who are willing to train and work hard with the form. You have to find something more in your art than living from one performance to another. But to feel that magic, that joy of the moment, you have to constantly hear that calling. Ask yourself, ‘Why do I dance? What does it mean to me?’ The next generation has some serious dancers and we have to nurture them. The dancers seeking just performative success would not be looking for this dimension of a deeper experience. I myself worked for years expanding my technique and repertoire. It is important for me now to share that vision with the best of dancers.
The word mentor is gaining currency. Even Kalakshetra is offering mentoring. What does it mean?
I came to know the word only when dancer Mythili Prakash mentioned it. She brings to me the productions that she has created. I work through them with her, offering advice, corrections, suggestions. It is looking at the work with a critical eye — going through points like how to move, what kind of energy you find and how to invest energy at the core level of dance. It is more than physical — it is a process of awareness and internalisation. I guess this holistic approach is what mentoring is — a different approach to training.
You have excelled as a solo artist. Now you are working with groups. How does that come in?
I never do anything I am not convinced about. It was a well-considered thought. In ‘Vamatara’, I knew what would work in the group form. My approach is solo and group, not solo or group. How will tradition grow without questioning? Personalise tradition and then question it while keeping the core essence. Unfortunately, today we produce dancers from one school who are all like clones. Even mistakes of a teacher are copied and we are happy congratulating a youngster for being a carbon copy of the teacher. I do not want to create clones. Whoever comes to me for guidance, I tell, ‘no imitating me’. You may be influenced, yes, but the dancer has to find his or her own vocabulary, like a tresure hunt.
Speaking at the Natya Kala Conference this year, I heard you talk of a character like a deer, and you referred to entering the consciousness of the deer. Is it like Manipuri dancers performing a work on an elephant Moirangsha, danced in such a way that one got the feel of an elephant herd moving on stage – not dancers.
Exactly. This is a very difficult process when your self is displaced. You as a person has been taken over by the other you represent. That abstraction cannot be described, it has to be sought through sheer effort by the performer.
At Natya Kala Conference you also said while doing excerpts from the role of the courtesan that seduction is an easy route.
Seduction is simple — showing the walk, the fragrance of ether, parading full breasted glory, pre-bath rituals, wet hair — getting lost in one’s own body. What is so difficult? After Bhakti, this is nothing. Through bhakti you can create that energy around you. I am not just seeking janaranjakam . Tell me, do people really want to see the larger vision or are they satisfied with superficial decorative work? Why are we forsaking great art and going for short cuts? I cannot dumb down my work just to suit people. I tell the youngsters ‘Be prepared for the long route’. If you are willing to put in that mind numbing effort, this art brings you that body/mind alignment like nothing else — you are in harmony — in perfect sruti.
Art commentators often criticise the Bharatanatyam ‘renaissance’ as we like to call it hasdiscarded the naturally erotic body of the devadasi .
If anybody says my body has lost its ability to revitalise itself , thanks to bhakti, I disagree. Bhakti lets you create that energy around you. I am not just seeking janaranjakam . It is my art that gives my body that ability to enter other spaces. I have nothing against eroticism. But there is more, much more and unless one has felt it, one does not know. Frankly for me, the padams and javalis where the woman accuses the lover ‘’that finger, that hand that has caressed that other woman, I do not want.’ This is not what I want.
But as a long time disciple of Kalanidhi Narayanan all these compositions were part of your training.
Sure and I enjoyed that period, 30 years ago. Even then I questioned things, asking Mami in compositions like ‘Indendu vaccitivira’ (Surati) what the “Mandaragiridarudaina Kasturi tilaka” meant and she truly believed that it was Krishna whose flirtations were accepted. For me, this was a difficult thing to accept. I am not down playing sringaram. What Devadasis and Rajadasis performed living in a context, I do not have to.
A senior dancer recently stated that New York finds solo Bharatanatyam boring and that our art form is out of step with the times.
I recently performed in New York to rave reviews. It is not the style, but the dancer. Tell me, why does Nrityagram get invited every single year to perform in New York? Make the body speak across cultures.
You have certain ideas which become symbols around which you weave your work. It was the Himalayas, then the Ganga and now, the Lotus.
Working with metaphors is wonderful. When I am passionate to create wonderful Bharatanatyam, I need to take flight, which does not mean escapism. Dance is relationship at every level and I want to make the audience see it. Which is why I loved my work done round the single line ‘Astam Gatho Ravihi’. What we need today is (Anita Ratnam mentioned the point at the Natya Kala Conference) to create an ecology of dance enthusiasts. We need to gather people who feel this intangible heritage has to be nurtured. This art form is transient — it ignites with ‘Rasatvam’. Let it live.
