T owards the end of S.S.Vasan’s iconic musical Chandralekha (1948), a drum dance is organised by king Sasankan, a man who dethroned his own brother to become king and even kidnapped his lover, Chandralekha.
Rows of colossal drums are placed in front of the palace and an array of dancers danced on top of them to a majestic soundtrack punctuated by thunderous drum beating, creating a stupendous spectacle.
This dance represented different things for the characters in the film—for Sasankan, this was a way to impress his brother’s lover, but for Chandralekha, it was a ploy to distract Sasankan and attack him. When this film was screened across the country, in a tent cinema in the small taluk of Arasikere near Hassan, a young girl saw something else in this dance: an inspiration to fall in love with the art. This girl, barely two or three years old, dazzled by the dancers, their movements and the spectacle, went up to the screen and began dancing. “My mother would pull me back constantly but I feel the seed for my love for dance was sown right there at that moment,” recalls Usha Datar, the Bengaluru-based veteran exponent of myriad styles of classical forms right from Bharatanatyam to Mohiniattam to Kuchipudi and Kathakali.
“The dance sequence in Chandralekha was choreographed and designed by Srinivas Kulkarni, an artist from Karnataka. Interestingly, on January 15, I’m going to be awarded the Srinivas Kulkarni award in Davangere for my contributions to dance. The fascinating co-incidences of life!,” says Datar, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
A conversation with the 70-year-old Usha Datar is full of such riveting anecdotes rich with cinematic potential. Characters in these stories are no ordinary people—Kalamandalam’s Thottaserry Chinnammu Ammu, Vyjayanthi Mala, BVK Shastry, Nataraj Ramakrishna, Kelucharan Mohapatra etc. That Datar’s journey in dance has been eventful is of little doubt therefore but it has also not been an easy one. “My mother, Snehaprabha Datar, was herself a good dancer back in the day. Having recognised my love for dance, she was keen that I pursue it. Arasikere didn’t have any teachers at that time. My mother had grown up in Kerala and was familiar with the region. So she went there and brought dancer Kannan Marar to our taluk. She then went from house to house to urge people to send their children to the dance classes. Back then, young girls from Brahmin families learning dance wasn’t considered a good thing. Even though my training began at that time, due to petty politics, I had to leave the class. More than me, my mother was shattered,” recalls Datar.
It was then that Snehaprabha chanced upon Kalamandalam. “She had gone to buy clothes for my brother. The shopkeeper packed them in a Malayalam newspaper. In it was an advertisement about Kalamandalam. I applied and even got selected. But then they said that they will not accept students from the Mysore State. My mother had sold her gold bangles to take me to Kalamandalam. Just when we were getting discouraged, my mother met Vasanthi, the daughter of Kalamandalam’s founder, Vallathol Narayana Menon. Vasanthi and my mother had studied together in Kerala. Again, what a coincidence! She helped me secure an admission there,” says Datar.
What followed for the barely nine-year-old girl was a rigorous routine in dance and music for the next five years. Datar learnt Bharatanatyam, Mohiniattam and Kathakali at Kalamandalam and after graduation, even traveled extensively as part of the Kalamandalam troupe. Dancing as part of military entertainment in Forward Areas during the Indo-China war in 1962-63 was one experience she says she can never forget. “We spent six months in the border areas, with no contact with anyone outside. I was the main dancer in the troupe,” she says.
Later, when Vyjayanthimala wrote a letter to Kalamandalam saying she wanted to learn Mohiniattam, it was Datar that was sent as assistant to Chinnammu Ammu. “We stayed for three months in Vyjayanthi’s house and taught her. Vyjayanthi even asked me to stay back but my mother felt I should first craft a name in dance on my own.”
Eventually, Datar moved to Bengaluru and in a sense brought Mohiniattam with her to the region. She began as a dance teacher at Mahila Samaja in Rajajinagar and gradually gained prominence as a dancer through various programmes across the city. “After seeing me perform, the chairperson of BEL offered the post of Culture Assistant there. I joined but it was then that I heard about the then Andhra Pradesh Government’s announcement of a course in ‘Temple Dance’. Maya didi (the late Kathak exponent, Maya Rao) insisted I go attend the course and learn the form and even helped me secure leave from office. That conference changed my life. I went again to learn ‘ Temple Dance’, its intricacies and traditions properly. It was the Devadasis themselves that taught me. I stayed in Nataraja Ramakrishna’s house and learnt from him too. BVK Shastry had recommended me for the course saying here’s a girl who is mad about dance!”
Thereafter known for her expertise on Temple Dance traditions, she began a career as a lecturer in Bangalore University. “For 29 years I worked first as a lecturer, then a Reader, then a Professor and then Head of the department. By then, I had also secured land from the Government to set up a dance class. It was the time when minister Gundu Rao and Ramakrishna Hegde were encouraging artists in the city.”
A recipient of the Academy award and the Rajyotsava award among others, she may have retired from her post at the University today but her tryst with dance is far from over. “Even as recent as two months ago, I performed for three hours at a programme. Every day I take dance classes throughout the day. Dance is my life.”
But is there a favourite form amidst the various styles? “I don’t have a favourite. I may know different styles but I have taken care not to mix them. That for me is crucial- to maintain the sanctity of each form. Mohiniattam taught me grace, Kuchipudi and Bharatanatyam solidified my love for abhinaya.”
Has Mohiniattam grown in the region satisfactorily?
“It has grown. When I came here, I was the only practitioner of the form. People used to ask me what Mohiniattam even was. Dance forms like Odissi and Mohiniattam still have scope to grow. Dancers and teachers are there but the supporting systems of musicians, costume artists etc. are still scarce. I’ll continue to try my best to do what I can. That’s the least I can do for a State that has given me my bread and butter and encouraged my passion for dance."
