Most audiences, and most dancers, now lack the patience and stamina to experience Bharatanatyam in its original, full-length Margam form. A Seshan says the dance must be rescued from the “boiling pot”
For a millennium preceding the British Raj, Bharatanatyam had a glorious history. By the time of the Raj, however, the institution of the devadasis in Tamil Nadu had gone into decline. Devadasis were hereditary dancers wedded to a god, and their art was called Sadir. They were the chief practitioners of this dance form. Partly to take away the stigma of association with these women of low status, Sadir was rechristened Bharatanatyam.
In the early 20th century there was a movement for the abolition of the devadasi system. A few individuals then realised that if the devadasis vanished, so would their ancient art. With Herculean effort, people like E Krishna Iyer and Rukmini Devi brought Bharatanatyam to a renaissance. Girls of the upper strata of society took to this dance form.
The high noon of Bharatanatyam was reached in the three decades after Independence. Think of the days when Anandhi and Radha would dance under the supervision of the doyen of nattuvanars (gurus), Vazhuvoor Ramaiah Pillai. Singer M S Subbulakshmi would join the orchestra to sing padams (slow-paced songs on love which come after a strenuous or long item). The performance would last four hours, with two intermissions. There would be nearly 15 items in all, including half a dozen padams.
Then came the age of technological transformation and Western influence. With new kinds of entertainment available, especially to the younger generation, Bharatanatyam suffered a fall in interest.
The issue of greatest concern to rasikas (aficionados) now is the modernisation of Bharatanatyam and the slow starvation of the traditional format, known as margam (the Path), that may lead eventually to its death on the concert stage. I call it a “boiling pot” rather than a “melting pot” to highlight the seriousness of the situation and to evoke the image of a primitive community cooking its hapless victim in a large pot for dinner.
Since the time of the Tanjore Quartet two centuries ago — the four brothers Chinnayya, Ponnayya, Sivanandam and Vadivelu, who helped shape the development of Bharatanatyam — programmes have been following the margam. The format is designed gradually to introduce the dancer as well as the audience to the heavier items, that call for greater artistic skill in performance and concentration in appreciation.
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The Quartet systematised the Sadir repertoire and standardised it in the alarippu (invocation) to tillana (concluding piece) format. A concert was to start with the easy-to-follow pure dance (nritta), evolve with nritta and abhinaya (expression of emotions) and end with pure dance, thus completing the cycle.
Thus the pushpanjali (offering of flowers) and alarippu (blossoming of the dance) are nritta (pure movements) that do not tell any story. In alarippu, the movements of the eye, neck and shoulder are briefly introduced. Then comes the jatiswaram, a combination of jatis (mnemonic rhythmic syllables) and swaras (notes). It is still pure nritta. Then it is time to introduce abhinaya, anchored in one or more of the navarasas (love, anger, etc.). It is done in shabdam (dance accompanied by a poem or song).
Having warmed up, the artiste can then attempt the varnam, the pièce de résistance and ultimate test of virtuosity. The varnam is a total experience in rasanubhava (experience of emotion) for the artiste and audience alike. During the varnam, Abhinaya unfolds in various ways, to depict emotions or stories from the epics.
Then come the padam and javali, which are exercises in abhinaya, calling for consummate artistry as in the varnam. They are romantic in content and addressed either to the chosen god (Krishna, Muruga, etc., in the case of the padam) or man (the zamindar or king, in the javali).
This leads to the final item, the tillana, which is pure nritta and calls for a mastery of rhythm. The movements of the limbs, and statuesque poses, provide the finale in aesthetics.
This is the basic framework of a performance, but individual artistes are free to add items like bhajans.
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Now, the problem. The typical Indian classical dance programme today does not extend beyond two hours. So what is presented is a capsule version of a rich repertoire that was once a feast for the ears as well as the eyes. While this can be understood, what is disturbing is the tendency of leading artistes now to cut themselves away from the moorings. They give up even the limited edition of the margam. Aficionados are not sure whether the margam will survive even the next decade.
The rich heritage of Bharatanatyam is being relegated to the background. Instead of staying close to the original form, dancers have evolved “neo-classical” versions like jugalbandi, dance dramas and thematic dancing. Then there is the altogether new genre of contemporary Indian dance, or fusion, which has nothing to do with the classical format except for occasional incorporation of its elements.
One reason given by dancers is that audiences lack the interest and patience to sit through full traditional recitals. I have, however, seen the splendid response to margam-based programmes at the National Centre for the Performing Arts in Mumbai in recent times. The real reason for the change may be that the average artiste does not have the passion, or the patience, or the physical stamina to traverse the path of margam. She or he can no longer dance a varnam for one hour without dripping sweat and panting for breath even in airconditioned halls. This is because of poor conditioning of the body.
To dance Bharatanatyam without following the margam is like doing salsa without shaking the hips!
Do we want the margam to die a slow death? Does it not have intrinsic value and is it not worth preserving? Above all, why should a dancer undergo rigorous training in margam for seven to 10 years if, for all practical purposes, eventually that dancer will unlearn all that and branch off into things like depicting 9/11, where there is more walking than dancing?
I am not against jugalbandi, dance dramas or contemporary dance. While the rasika can have a cafeteria approach to choosing what he or she wants, Bharatanatyam’s dancers and aficionados have a responsibility to ensure that the rich legacy of margam is not lost forever.
What we need is another Krishna Iyer or Rukmini Devi to bring about a second renaissance of Bharatanatyam.