The Independent Student Newspaper of Ashoka University

Swarnamalya Ganesh and a Brief History of Bharatanatyam

Himali Thakur, Class of 2019

For most of us, Bharatanatyam is the classical dance form that defines Indian culture and allows for little re-invention within its rigid boundaries. Last week, Swarnamalya Ganesh visited Ashoka University for a lecture-demonstration and completely disturbed that perception. “A post-colonial creation of Bharatanatyam as exclusively ‘Indian culture’,” is what she calls it. “We are constantly told to go back to our roots”, she says. However, these “normative” practices did not exist in Bharatanatyam’s recent, and rich, evolutionary past.

Official poster for the lecture-demonstration

Swarnamalya Ganesh is a known Sadir (Bharatanatyam) dancer, dance historian, choreographer, and tutor. Her research into dance history focuses on reconstructing lost Bharatanatyam practices and repertoires. Currently, Ganesh is engaged in the project “From the Attic”, a series of performance-projections that draws from her academic work to bring to light the evolutionary and changing nature of Bharatanatyam over the years. “A Peek Inside the Attic”, as the lecture-demonstration at Ashoka University was aptly titled, provided a taste of these sessions to the attendees.

Ganesh’s interest in dance history had been there for as long as she performed, but it was when she was working on her Master’s in Bharatanatyam that she stumbled on the lost repertoires of the Nayak era. “At first I thought, ‘They ruled the Tamil country for two hundred-odd years. What could they have really contributed?’” The Nayak rulers of Vijayanagara were contemporaries of the medieval Mughal rulers. This time is traditionally considered “a period of decline for Bharatanatyam”. However, in the course of her research, Ganesh found that the Nayak court’s contribution to contemporary Bharatanatyam was immense; she recovered nearly thirty-four repertoires from this immediate past. Many of these practices had clear Persian influences. “What was astounding was how these cultures (the Mughal/Islamic and the Deccan/Hindu) merged,” she says. “Art changed with political shifts of the time.” Ganesh makes her arguments by using textual traditions, but also sculptures and paintings of that represent practices of Bharatanatyam of that era. She believes that this interdisciplinary approach is inevitable due to the rich multicultural and interdisciplinary nature of Bharatanatyam itself.

Ganesh explains that the exchange of dance forms was probably an active method of communication between royalties. Bharatanatyam would have been a part of these exchanges, too. It was used for diplomacy and also a kind of cultural conquest. “When messengers came to you from another kingdom, you performed the dance of their place to entertain them, but also to display the cultural prowess of your own ruler and culture,” explains Swarnamalya. There was a “we can do it as well as you” sentiment to it.

When patronage moved from temples to rich dubashes, courts, and the “firangis” that came in, Bharatanatyam had to adapt to shifting demands. Bharatanatyam was performed in different spaces with a diverse audience, resulting in amalgams of different languages for the lyrics. Performers also had to adapt to the demand for quick and captivating dances to draw in the audience, leading to the development of a form called the “javali”. This fluidity of the pre-colonial Bharatanatyam exemplifies, what Ganesh calls, the dance’s “cosmopolitan identity”.

To illustrate this cosmopolitan identity, Ganesh gives the example of a javali in the Kharaharapriya raga, “Oh My Lovely Lalana” by Karur Shivaramayya. It’s a Telugu composition incorporating phrases from English. Ganesh dances to demonstrate this composition with extraordinary grace and precision. She pauses now and then to explain the meaning of the lyrics or to point out certain interesting overlaps. Ganesh even sings the composition to us; her clear voice negotiates the notes smoothly. We, the audience, are awestruck by this. Ganesh casually explains that the Bharatanatyam dancers of old, the devadasis, would have been well-versed with the vocals. “The devadasis sang as they performed,” says Ganesh. She sees this as another manifestation of the interdisciplinary nature of Bharatanatyam. It is only with the advent of specialisation in today’s day that vocals and the dancer are separated.

Photograph by Arish Azmat (Ashoka University Media Team)

After her lecture demonstration, Ganesh sat down with The Edict to hear her views on Bharatanatyam and how it is shaped in today’s world.

Himali: I want to start with the question of the normative that you brought up. You said that you’d like to move out of that the normative. So, how do you work with that in your pedagogy?

Swarnamalya: When I started doing my research, the pedagogical change had to come about. I discovered this with the very first composition that I was reconstructing, the Mukhachali (a precursor of today’s alarippu) repertoire. When the beginning stance changed, everything changed along with it. And there is also a deeper understanding that all of these dances are structured within different cultures. So, this changed the way I looked at my practice.

It was also important for me to keep in mind what Bharatanatyam is today because you are tracing back, you have to keep in mind what has finally come about. It is important for me to keep in touch with my base and to say, “This is how that has become this.”

So, yes, for me, the pedagogy evolved with my research, because I was looking at it from the multiculturality of it.

You talked about the political and historical influences on Bharatanatyam through the ages. How do you see Bharatanatyam responding to the global context today?

I think Bharatanatyam already has like I said because Bharatanatyam is so cosmopolitan, contrary to the idea of pinning it to the classical and saying that it is unchanging. I think the definition of “classical” itself must change. If the idea of the classical is that it is structured or rigid, then Bharatanatyam is none of it. It has changed so much. Today, because it has this global visibility, how much it has changed — the costumes, lighting. Without Bharatanatyam’s ability to adapt, would it be possible for a Rukmini Devi to have an Italian seamstress making Bharatanatyam costumes? Or to have theatre lighting for Bharatanatyam? Or to accommodate the enormous changes over time? So many dances have contributed to those changes. The Bharatanatyam today, that is consumed by the Western audience, is vastly different. You’ve made it into these small consumable pockets. That you can do so means that you are cosmopolitan.

How do you think performance has changed for you over the years? How do you keep re-inventing yourself?

For me, it has changed vastly. Like I said, all those questions that I had in my mind as a mere practitioner, I was soon able to make some enquiries towards those. The minute I started making those enquiries, I had informed knowledge. I won’t say I have deviated from what I was taught. What the enquiry enabled me to do was reinstate my faith in what I was taught. You see, my gurus had already taught me this very thing about Bharatanatyam and its fluidity. My guru (Smt. K J Sarasa) was a hereditary artist. She had such an amazing ability to assimilate from wherever and make it a popular art. If you look at it from the point of view of this classical burden, you’ll never be able to understand how my guru was able to do it. After my informed understanding, of why and how Bharatanatyam has over time been so absorbing, I can better appreciate what I was and the way I was taught. I am also able to make those infiltrations in reviving certain compositions, bringing them back to life — informing my student body about how inclusive this art form is.

You have also performed in films and TV shows. How has dance influenced your performance in that field? Do these “performances” leak into each other?

They do. It’s so organic that one can hardly ever. . . Acting is not dance, but I am sure they give and take from each other. I have been a dancer for far longer than I have been an actor. My entire life my work can be described as very interdisciplinary, be it within music, dance, theatre, or acting. To stand in isolation as “I am only an actor” or “I am only a dancer” would be foolhardy.

Do you think that the film industry, as it is today, can do justice to dance?

It depends. The film industry is such a vibrant space that with just one film, trends can change. If there is one informed director, who wishes to create something. . . They don’t have to make a documentary for the justification of dance. As I said, dance is so cosmopolitan that it can be there for popular consumption. It takes a very intelligent and committed mind. And a producer who backs them up! My hopes aren’t too high, but it is not impossible.

Do you feel that as a woman artist, you have a certain role to fulfil?

Certainly. You know all these women, the devadasis, all of them have been very empowered from within the system. They were definitely a part of the patriarchy, but they were negotiating from within. All of us are the same that way. None of us is outside the system. We are trying to create a space from within the system. And they’ve had better access. They have been able to do it much better than women who are not from the community.

Leading by that example, I think art is a very powerful tool and combined with the kind of agency we get through education, we have a very strong role to play, and we must. I think everything I do — even the Kshetrayya Padam that entrenches you in a male gaze — can be a strong feminist voice because I am creating an agency for a woman to express herself. The content is very explicit and sexual, and if a woman can do that in the open, there is something very liberating about that. There are different kinds of feminism. I am a professor of Gender Studies, so I talk about this every day to my students. You don’t need to have these particular forms of feminism to be identified as a feminist. Today, feminism is about lending the voice — or not even lending the voice — feminism is about accepting that the subaltern has a voice.

Swarnamalya Ganesh | Photograph by Arish Azmat (Ashoka University Media Team)

Varsha: There are so many styles in Bharatanatyam like Kalakshetra and Pandanallur. With Kalakshetra and Pandanallur you have the association of the strict, “no curves”, and all of that. How did that come about?

I would urge you not to club together Pandanallur and Kalakshetra. Pandanallur is very different from what it is portrayed today. Pandanallur bani is an older, traditional school of. . . These schools, these banis are not really watertight. They give and take repertoires. They have very common repertoires. Like the Thanjavur Quartet compositions were a mainstay for the Pandanallur. But these banis evolved more because of geographical boundaries. If a few gurus taught from Pandanallur, they made a few stylistic additions that came to stay, and later on, we called them “bani”. We are in the urban; we have no bani. Chennai has no bani. You just have all these different influences.

Kalakshetra is a product of the “normative” practice. Even though Rukmini Devi Arundale started it post-colonially, she began normative practices around the 1930s, where she said that “I am going to change the face of this form. I am going to make it a non-hereditary performing art.” So she chiselled out of it the style we know today. So, this is the product of a few urban minds, which is why I feel that a large part of Bharatanatyam’s vitality has been lost. But this is no offence to her; Rukmini Devi was a visionary of a certain nature, who was able to envision dance for global consumption. But how? What of it has been consumed? Only a very tiny, small, sliver of it.

And now we’ve come to a point where we’ve come to a saturation point. Now what? Now, I am saying that what we’ve left behind is large. Because essentially everything that we performed as everything that they, the devadasis, performed. It’s old wine and new bottle — new bottle being the non-hereditary body. The levels of consumption are the same. You have only taken out small chips, whatever you think is good for your global or national positioning. So, bani is a very fluid thing, but I do subscribe to cultural identities. So, if Vazhuvoor’s style has a certain few stylistic additions, as a student of that bani, it’s wonderful if I retain it because that legacy has the cultural identity of that space.

Varsha: When people in research now say that Bharatanatyam has Persian influence, what has been the response from people who say that there are certain rights and wrongs to Bharatanatyam? Or that Bharatanatyam is a certain way and comes from a certain place?

If you are somebody who believes that Bharatanatyam is exclusively Hindu and, even more exclusively, high caste, it will be difficult. If you believe that it was once with the devadasis, the “derogated lot”, and then you resurrected it — because that’s the word often us — you gave it its “respectability” then it is very difficult for you to traverse the pathway of this corridor I am showing. I am saying there’s Gujrati, Maharashtrian influence. Even that may not be a problem for them, but the minute you say Persian and that Bharatanatyam has accommodated something foreign like English! They feel that they have been “invaded” into the identity that they have built. That’s where my strong historical and academic base comes in because I am not speaking off the top of my head. I come to you with evidence. Unless you can counter it, unless I am proven wrong I am right.

So, when I present “From the Attic”, which is based on sound historical research, it is planned as a storytelling session. There is all this evidence that I place in front of the people before the performance. That is when people can consume the performance with an open mind. If you are sitting there and wondering, “What? Persian? How?”, you can’t enjoy it. I need to do that even for my students, these young girls who come for a dose of “Indian Culture” — because that’s how people consume it. You think that your child will be disciplined into “Hindu Ways”. To that mind, how do you tell it that it is far more inclusive? It is all of that; it is Hindu, it does give you discipline. But, ti also gives you the larger vision to look at the world as a connected globe. That, I think, is far more rich to be passing on to the next generation than teaching them how to put a bindi. I am telling them that this is also Indian culture. You know, people didn’t travel to Iran and bring Persian. It’s not like I found an Iranian musician and got them to collaborate with me. It’s here! They travelled to Kayalpatnam. In your village, this happened.

So, the context of the performance governs the performance itself. It allows you to have a sense of history. By doing this, I have been able to bring into the fold Bharatanatyam viewers and performers non-traditional participants. The minute I talk about the Persian and Islamic influence, then I have a new audience, who feels a sense of belonging. You can never be an audience if it doesn’t mean anything to you. I have a larger audience thanks to the inclusivity of Bharatanatyam itself.

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