His gestures wild and full of grace, precipitate the cosmic illusion; his flying arms and legs and the swaying of his torso produce —indeed, they are —the continuous creation-destruction of the universe, death exactly balancing birth, annihilation the end of every coming-forth. Indologist Heinrich Robert Zimmer on the dance of Nataraja.
When Delhi was chosen as the venue for the G20 conference, it was decided to install a statue of Nataraja, a dancing image of Shiva at Bharat Mandapam in New Delhi. Today a 28 ft. Nataraja, the world’s tallest idol, stands there conveying what Fritjof Capra, an Austrian-born American author and physicist says in his monumental work, The Tao of Physics — “The dance of Shiva is the dancing universe; the ceaseless flow of energy going through an infinite variety of patterns that melt into one another.” Sabanayagar, as he is called, Nataraja is the presiding deity of Chidambaram in Tamil Nadu. The Nataraja idol, exemplifying the greatness of Chola-period bronze idols, created at the behest of Sembiyan Mahadevi, the Chola queen, is in Konerirajapuram temple. Another beautiful Nataraja made at the behest of Raja Raja I is in the Big temple in Thanjavur.
“When we got the order to make the statue, we decided to include the salient features of all the three idols,” says Srikantan Sthapathy, who along with his brothers, Radhakrishna Sthapathy and Swaminatha Sthapathy, created the statue in Swamimalai, the hub of idol-making since the time of the Cholas. They are the sons of Devasenapathy Sthapathi, the creator of Nataraja adorning the Tamil Nadu Housing Board building in Nandanam. “The dance of Shiva in Chidambaram or Tillai forms the motif of the South Indian copper images of Nataraja, the Lord of Dance. These images bear minor variations, but all express one fundamental concept,” writes Srilankan scholar Ananda Coomaraswamy in his book, The Dance of Shiva.
The art of making bronze idols is more than a millennium old, but perfected during the reign of the Cholas. Nataraja is one of the most amazing contributions of the Tamil heritage and culture. In the words of Anand Coomaraswamy, “whatever be the origins of Shiva’s dance, it became in time the clearest image of the activity of God which any art or religion can boast of.”
This Nataraja idol is also based on Panchabootham (five elements).
“The dance, in fact, represents His five activities (Panchakritya), viz.: Shrishti (creation), Sthiti (preservation, support), Samhara (destruction), Tirobhava (veiling, embodiment, illusion, and also, giving rest), and Anugraha (release, salvation, grace). These, separately considered, are the activities of the deities Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra, Maheshvara and Sadashiva,” writes Anand.
Saivite minstrel Thirunavukkarasar says a birth as a human being is preferred to enjoy the beauty of Shiva — his curved eyebrows, the smile on his red lips, the matted locks wet with the water of the Ganga, the body in the colour of red coral and covered with holy ash and the legs raised in a dance posture.
Srikantan Sthapathy and team giving final touches. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
According to Srikantan and his brothers, traditionally five metals (panchaloha) are used to make idols. But the Nataraja idol also represents five elements (pancha bootham). Sand, an element, is used for covering the mould, water to make the sand paste, fire for melting the wax and the metals and air blower keeps the fire burning during idol-making. Finally, the sky — artisans pray for a clear sky because rains will disrupt their work. Those in Swamimalai follow the lost wax method. They first make the figure in wax. If they are satisfied with the model, it is then encased in clay made of fine alluvial soil from the river Cauvery, which flows along Swamimalai.
R. Nagaswamy, an authority on Chola bronzes, explaining the process says after allowing the clay to dry, the whole mass is heated. “The wax melts and drains away; and the shell is ready to receive the molten bronze. Each bronze therefore is unique.”
Popularly known as Panchaloha, these creations have 82 per cent copper, 15 per cent bronze, three per cent lead and a small amount of silver and gold.
But the 28 ft Nataraja — 22 ft idol and six ft pedestal — installed at the Bharat Mandapam is made of eight metals (Ashtadhatu). “We reduced the copper content by two per cent and added tin. Similarly, we used only 11 per cent brass and replaced the four per cent with tin. Iron was used in the form of bars that supported the huge mould from damage. A small amount of mercury was added 10 minutes before casting,” says Srikantan.
After baking the mould to drain out the wax, they dug a 30 ft pit and placed in it before covering it with 25 lorry loads of sand. “Then we poured the melted metals and allowed it to cool. We gave the final touches to the statue at the venue,” he adds.
Anand Coomaraswamy terms Srikantan and his brothers and other sculptors of Swamimalai as knowledge keepers. “To my mind, no one who has travelled the length and breadth of India, in fact South Asia, would dispute Coomaraswamy’s claim about how local knowledge-keepers whom we tend to dismiss summarily, often reveal deep insights into the history and culture of that site, locality and even region,” said R. Mahalakshmi, Centre for Historical Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University. Anand Coomaraswamy summarises the whole interpretation of the essential significance of Shiva’s Dance as threefold. “First, it is the image of his rhythmic play as the source of all movement within the cosmos, which is represented by the crch; secondly, the purpose of his dance is to release the countless souls of men from the snare of illusion; thirdly the place of the dance, Chidambaram, the centre of the universe, is within the heart.”
Srikantan Sthapathy working on a Nataraja idol. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Fritjof Capra, who has quoted substantially from The Dance of Shiva argues that in our time, physicists have used the most advanced technology to portray the patterns of the cosmic dance. “The bubble-chamber photographs of inter-acting particles, which bear testimony to the continual rhythm of creation and destruction in the universe, are visual images of the dance of Shiva equaling those of the Indian artistes in beauty and profound significance. The metaphor of the cosmic dance thus unifies ancient mythology, religious art, and modern physics,” he writes. According to him, the balance of the two hands represents the dynamic balance of creation and destruction in the world, accentuated further by the Dancer’s calm and detached face in the centre of the two hands, in which the polarity of creation and destruction is dissolved and transcended. The second right hand is raised in the sign of ‘do not fear’ symbolising maintenance, protection and peace, while the left hand points down to the uplifted foot which symbolises release from the spell of maya. The god is pictured as dancing on the body of a demon, the symbol of man’s ignorance, which has to be conquered before liberation can be attained,” Fritjof Capra explains.
Of all forms of Hindu gods, Nataraja seems to be special. “It is not strange that the figure of Nataraja has commanded the adoration of so many generations past: familiar with all scepticisms, expert in tracing all beliefs to primitive superstitions, explorers of the infinitely great and infinitely small, we are worshippers of Nataraja still,” explains Anand Coomaraswamy.
