Against all odds

Despite severe discouragement and criticism, Sathyanarayana Raju pursued dance. He believes that in every individual, irrespective of gender, the male and female prinicples co-exist

April 13, 2017 02:53 pm | Updated 02:53 pm IST

BENGALURU - KARNATAKA - 28/03/2017 :   Dancer Satyanarayana Raju, during interaction with THE HINDU, in Bengaluru on March 28, 2017.   
Photo K Murali Kumar

BENGALURU - KARNATAKA - 28/03/2017 : Dancer Satyanarayana Raju, during interaction with THE HINDU, in Bengaluru on March 28, 2017. Photo K Murali Kumar

“I’m deeply grateful to all those who cursed and discouraged me throughout my career,” says Sathyanarayana Raju as we settle down for a conversation in his ornate home in J.P. Nagar in Bangalore. “When I chose to take up dance professionally, many people asked me, often cheekily, how much I earn for jumping around. My response would mostly be just a smile. But each of those remarks and questions have strengthened my resolve to be a dancer,” he says with a similar smile.

Crafting his over three-decade old journey in classical dance has not been easy for the 51-year-old exponent and teacher of Bharatanatyam, a student of gurus Narmada and Maya Rao, and a recipient of numerous awards including the Karnataka Kalashree 2016-17 by Karnataka Sangeetha Nrithya Academy. “I come from a family of landowners who were invested in agriculture and big businesses. For them, their boy wanting to become a dancer was unimaginable. My father, especially, did not approve at all. Worse, they did not even know where to send me for dance lessons,” he says.

It was actor Jayaprada’s dance in the Telugu film ‘Siri Siri Muvva’ that fascinated Sathya and sowed the first seeds of passion towards the form. “This was when I was in the fifth standard. There were paddy fields here in JP Nagar behind the garden in my house. I’d go there and act as if I was Jayaprada. As I grew older, I knew I wanted to learn dance but did not have the courage to ask my family.”

Finally, he found Subhadra Prabhu who was eager to take Sathya as her student but he still couldn’t talk openly about his love for the art at home. “Through Subhadra Ma’am, I met Maya Rao and enrolled into her institute as well. The fees used to be Rs. 20 and even though my father was well-off, I couldn’t dare ask him for money. I’d lie that I need it for badminton classes. Of course, it was not like he did not know where I was going. I’d wear a kacche and then wear a pant on top of it so I wouldn’t aggravate his anger.” Sathya’s mother, he says, would have loved to see her son pursue dance, though. “I began learning dance in 1983 and my mother passed away in 1985 in an accident. She died before my first ever performance! Even to this day, I miss her presence when I look at the audience from the stage.”

In 1990, Sathya met guru Narmada and would go on to learn under her until her death. “Back then, dancers in Bangalore used to say ‘all roads lead to Shakuntala Nrityalaya’ because almost all dance teachers in the city have had some connection with Narmada aunty. All of her students shared a unique rapport with her. For instance, she would be very interested in all that my father used to say in anger. She would ask me to repeat his words in class...It would amuse her to a great extent.”

It was under guru Narmada that Sathya grew as a dancer. “She would never ask any of her students to imitate her. She struck a good balance between laying a strong foundation of the Pandanallur style and giving us the freedom to explore and formulate our own style within that framework.” The other eye-opening experience was learning from the late Maya Rao, says Sathya. “She had such a wealth of information on a range of subjects. What was also unique about Maya didi’s class was that there were so many male dancers there! Once, I remember we all went to Chennai together and Dhananjayan sir was shocked to see so many male dancers from Bangalore alone. We were like 35 of us back in the 1980s...”

What was it like to be a male dancer back then? “We didn’t really care about being the main dancer or about solo shows. We’d be happy to dance as long as there was an opportunity. There wasn’t much freedom for boys/men to pursue dance and there was little financial support. I remember stopping my bike at a nearby park on the way home to just sit and cry my heart out.”

Sathya’s father finally did watch his son on stage and when he did, he brought 20 masons with him. “This was at a performance in Yavanika. My father was building something at the time. So, he told a group of 20 masons that his son is performing somewhere. ‘Come, let’s go’. When I came on stage, I see my father sitting in the front row with all the masons. I remember being so nervous. Of course Narmada aunty wouldn’t let him go without asking him what he thought of the performance. He made some irreverent comment and left. The thing is... he was a good soul and wanted only the best for me. Gradually, he began noticing my name in the papers and then the dance photos too.. He was happy to see the Shivratri festival that we’d organise. Whenever I went abroad, he would proudly tell his friends that his son has gone to America!”

Sathya notices a considerable change in how male dancers are perceived and encouraged today. There are more opportunities and more financial support, he feels. “Also, I think it is a generational feature. Today’s dancers are more forthcoming. They know how to present themselves and do their publicity themselves. They apply for grants, performances etc. We had no one to guide us for these things back then.” However, things may have changed for the better but some of the old prejudices haven’t left yet, says Sathya. “Even today, organisers ask-- ‘do you have a female dancer accompanying you?’ That is when I get angry. I tell them I’m a solo artist and then they say, ‘no it looks nice if there is a girl next to you!’”

Gender and dance

Ask him what gender’s relationship to dance is and Sathya is quick to reply that every human being has both male and female aspects. “In fact, as artists we get more opportunities to explore these facets within ourselves. We are more in touch with it, I feel. This is something I experience on a day-to-day basis when I do abhinaya, when I cradle a child, when I’m a miffed lover and when I’m an evil, masculine rakshasa...”

One did catch a glimpse of this at a recent performance by Sathya called ‘Ramkatha’ where Sathya transitioned from the loving Kousalya to the conniving Manthara to the tormented Dasharatha and the serene Rama rather effortlessly. “My sisters would ask me how I manage to know what a mother feels when her child takes the first steps. I only say that I don’t need to be married or be a mother to know the experience.” Today, Sathya has around 150 students and his schedule is packed with performances. At the time of our conversation, he had just returned from Varanasi after being awarded the Printania award from Navasadhan Kala Kendra and was visibly excited. “After all these years that I’ve invested in the service of dance, I feel that all sabhas and platforms are equal and exciting. A dancer is one who dances with sattva. Bhakti and Bhava make one an artist. Nothing else.”

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