Dancing to her tune

Shiamak Davar talks about work and his dance academy, but Abhilasha Ojha finds that Elsa steals the show.

Entering Shiamak Davar’s studio, our reaction is one of shock and awe. Though tinseltown dances to his tunes, we find Davar, his students, and staff dancing to someone else’s tunes. Her name is Elsa. She is Davar’s dog and faithful companion, and she ensures that everyone follows her around and adheres to her wishes.

We do too.
Labrador Elsa wags her tail and buries her head in my lap, but not before prompting the photographer and I — both of us hopeless dog lovers — to enter Davar’s spacious room. It is sparse and has a comfortable and inviting couch. Elsa, however, prefers the cool marble floor, and stretches lazily before sinking to the ground. Her chin seems Fevicol-ed to the floor, and she signals with her eyes that we should sit down beside her. This turns out to be an excellent assignment, one in which the usual question-answer rounds are interspersed with cuddles from a lovably overweight dog.

 

Davar smiles indulgently — a proud father who is happy to let his child grab all the limelight. “Elsa’s my baby,” he explains.

He manages to take Elsa along on all his travels. For starters, he doesn’t travel by air. “I do train journeys, like most pet lovers who enjoy travelling with their pets. For me, Elsa’s comfort comes first,” he says, describing how he books coupes in trains and ensures that Elsa takes her walks on platforms (to the surprise of onlookers) at different railway stations during the journey. “It’s pathetic to think that dogs die on flight journeys and there’s simply no accountability,” he says. (We had been discussing the untimely death of two pugs because of negligence by a private airline.) It’s not a topic Davar cares to discuss at length — “It’s depressing” — so we move on.

What brings the Mumbaikar to Delhi? Davar is set to announce a unique dance competition, one that will be presented by his own dance academy, the Shiamak Davar Academy of Performing Arts. “It won’t be restricted to students from my academy, nor to a certain section of society, and certainly not to any age group,” he says. “It will be a dance competition that will be held in Delhi, and from there it will travel to other places in India.”

Elsa stirs when Davar mentions dance. “You should check out her dance moves when she wants biscuits,” he grins — and proceeds to offer us a live performance. “Biscuit!” he shouts, and immediately Elsa does a little jig, getting up to put her legs on Davar’s shoulders. With her paws sliding down to reach his chest, Elsa starts wagging her tail delightedly while trying to balance the rest of her body at the same time. The charm that she wears around her neck (“She’s beautiful, so this is to ward off evil”) dangles around her very chubby neck, and when Davar shows her a Marie biscuit, she lets out a woof and gobbles up a bit of the biscuit.

Elsa sinks to the ground once again, and Davar proceeds to talk about the film industry, which he joined years ago when he donned the choreographer’s cap for Yash Raj banner’s Dil Toh Pagal Hai. His choreography was a break from the monotonous dance moves of earlier films. Read: unusual props, an army of “extras” in outlandish costumes, and jerky, animated choreography.

Of course, Farah Khan (now a successful director, too) and others were attempting to break away from what had been portrayed as “dance” in commercial Hindi cinema, but what Davar did was different — he didn’t negate other dancers, paid equal attention to their costumes (“I continue to design costumes and, when I started out, tablecloths, curtains and bedcovers were getting cut and sewn as dresses for shows”), gave them equally important steps (“a fusion of West and East”) and basically made everything look large-scale (“It’s like painting a blank canvas with a lot of moves and colour”).

But why don’t we see more of his choreography in films? “My commitment is towards my live shows and my dance academy,” he says, firmly. He does films — sometimes — for his close friends in the industry, those who are successful directors. Other than that he travels all over the world setting up academies and doing shows — the latest venues include Dubai and Sydney. (Note: Even on overseas trips, he takes Elsa along.)

His academy has managed another first: an exclusive tie-up with Reebok, which has introduced a separate line of clothing and footwear exclusively for the academy. Davar gets his biggest high from working with physically-challenged children to ensure that they “continue healing with dance”.

Davar is spiritually inclined, believes in the power of “connecting with souls long after they’ve left the body” and asserts that guardian angels protect the lucky ones on earth. His own journey with dance, he says, is a fulfilling one — a prayer as well as a way of life. In Elsa, he has a fellow traveller. And Elsa is powerful enough to prompt a role reversal: when she’s around, she plays choreographer and he dances to her tune.