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Dancing is a long journey without destination, says
Vimala Sarma |
| Vimala Sarma
is a classical Indian dance teacher and performer
of the Kuchipudi style of dance, and her company,
Nayika Indian Dance, is located in inner city Sydney.
Vimala's guru is Satyapriya Ramana, who was both
a student of and teacher at Guru Vempati Chinna
Satyam's Kuchipudi Art Academy for many years. |
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The Kuchipudi dances she performs
are either choreographed by Vempati Chinna Satyam,
or by herself. Vimala has also learnt Mohiniattam,
a graceful dance style from Kerala. Vimala has performed
in the prestigious annual Madras Festivals of Music
and Dance, and in other South Indian festivals.
She was awarded a Certificate of Excellence, the
title "Natyakala Siromani" (crown jewel
in the art of dance), and honored by leading Kuchipudi
artistes, at a felicitation ceremony. Her company
also conducts cultural tours to India. In an exclusive
interview, she opens her mind and shares her thoughts
with Mallika Jayanti.
Tell us about your association
with Kuchipudi (when and where you started along
with your gurus)
Vimala: I grew up in Malaysia and have always liked
classical Indian dance. My first teacher was Shanta
Dhananjayan. I learnt Bharata Natyam (Kalakshetra
style) from her for a short while, when I was in
my early teens. Some years later, I won a Colombo
Plan scholarship in my final year of school in Kuala
Lumpur and went to Adelaide University and, after
marrying my husband, who subsequently gained research
position at the Australian National University;
I settled in Canberra and joined the Australian
Public Service. During that period, I saw a performance
by a good Kuchipudi dancer and was attracted to
the graceful and fast Kuchipudi style of the eminent
Guru Vempati Chinna Satyam. Hence, I joined her
classes with great enthusiasm. The enthusiasm, however,
lasted only a while as she left Canberra. I then
decided on an approach which, upon reflection, was
breathtakingly foolhardy, and tinged with hubris.
Faced with the prospect of not having a teacher,
I decided I was going to teach myself. This is not
an approach I would suggest to anyone – it
is full of dangers and pitfalls, and I probably
went through all of them, as I did not come from
a family background well versed in music, the Telugu
language (we spoke English at home) or in the traditional
culture. My approach was to go to India for my one-month
annual leave from the Australian Public Service,
learn as much as I could, come back and spend the
rest of the year practising what I had learnt. Not
for me the traditional approach of spending years
with adavus, then jathis, and then pieces. There
just was not the time in the one month for this.
So, I just learnt whole pieces at a time –
sometimes two or three pieces from Satyapriya Ramana,
a student and teacher at the Kuchipudi Arts Academy
in Madras, each time I went to India. Satyapriya
was recommended to me by Guru Vempati. After returning
from each trip, I dissected the dance, line by line,
and step by step, and worked out the best way to
do each movement. In the process, I learnt all the
meanings of the words of the songs and expression.
Imagine learning about talam without having someone
beat out the rhythm, and learning how to use the
body to move, working out which muscles to use.
Since I have learnt everything from first principles
for myself, I can now pass all these skills and
tips to my students who don't have to learn the
hard way.
I am now living in Sydney and, more recently, I
have been to a couple of other teachers –
Kalpalatika, herself an excellent dancer, and Bala
Kondala Rao, who has excellent abhinaya, and a beautiful
singing voice to boot. I have since also discovered
Mohiniattam, which I am also learning in the same
way.
How different
do you think is to pursue this art form inside and
oustside India?
Vimala: It is not difficult if one has the time
to practice and a good teacher, but of course I
did not, as I have explained previously –
so it was a very difficult, lonely and perilous
journey with little or no encouragement from the
dance world in Australia. However, in India, I have
strong and lasting friendships with other dancers
and rasikas. The approach I chose also required
a great deal of self-discipline, and looking back
at it now, I am amazed that I persevered with it
for a number of years, given all the difficulties.
Pursuing the arts inside India has its own difficulties.
Unless one is from a relatively well-to-do family,
it is difficult to afford to go and come back from
the class everyday by autos, and classes have to
be fitted in outside school hours. Teachers' fees
are generally modest but the gurukula system, where
one stays with the teacher, is not feasible when
there are other demands upon time, and very good
teachers may refuse to teach any other way. The
teaching method in India is basically a 'see-and-do'
method, which involves students watching older students
and imitating them. This means that students never
get to do something in a new way. Gurus are not
usually dancers, and focus on mainly on talam. It
is difficult to get to performance level in India,
not only because of the method of teaching, and
the expense of hiring musicians, but also because
of the sheer number of other good dancers competing
for limited resources. The most annoying thing in
India is that nothing seems to be a straightforward
business transaction, as in the west, but seems
to be based on grace and favour. For example, it
is difficult to go to another teacher without giving
grave offence to the teacher who has already accepted
you.
How difficult
is it to explain the difference between Kuchipudi
and Bharatanatyam, especially since you find not
many know the difference?
Vimala: Yes, people are not even familiar with the
word – which sounds like some strange stick
dance to Tamil speakers! I must confess I myself
don't like the word – it is not easy for a
Westerner to remember or say, and it is the name
of a village, which conjures up the image of a village
dance. However, to a Western audience, there is
no need to make any distinctions. If asked, I simply
say it is a classical Indian dance style from Andhra
Pradesh. Ideally, it would be good to give this
style the dignity and classicism of a Sanskrit name,
but in the meantime perhaps Andhra Natyam will do.
Kuchipudi always seems to play second–fiddle
to Bharatha Natyam to the Tamil elite, and the Kalakshetra
purists look askance at it, mainly because Kuchipudi
also includes less appealing village styles, which
suffer from plain bad technique. The main differences
between the style of Guru Satyam and Bharatha Natyam
(and here I am focusing particularly on the Kalakshetra
style) is the use of the chest and back in almost
all steps, the pointed toe (suchi pada), turns with
jumps, the triple bend (tribhangi), fluidity between
one hand gesture and the next, greater range of
steps, greater use of neck and eye attami, greater
innovation in the use of syllables in voice percussion
(sollakattus), and greater coverage of space on
the stage by the dancer – all of these elements
create vibrancy and visual interest. In pure dance
sequences (nritta), the pleasing aesthetics of posture
and alignment are seen, as in Bharatha Natyam, but
the steps are faster, and the combinations more
varied.
From my perspective, the relative small number of
adavus in the Kalakshetra style invariably becomes
evident in a long performance, as it limits the
choreography, so that even ardent rasikas find it
difficult to sit through a long solo performance
of more than two hours. Another irritating thing
about Bharatha Natyam is the claim often heard in
performances that the art is the 'oldest dance form'
or that is 'thousands of years old', no doubt to
lend some sort of canonical status to the dance
form, and to establish its superiority over western
arts. Considering that all the choreography of the
present repertoire has all developed from particular
gurus in the last two centuries, this claim is hardly
accurate.
Do you go
to India often?
Vimala: I go to Chennai every year in the December
season but in the last few years I have also been
going to retreat in Kerala. I must say what is lacking
in Chennai – and perhaps some entrepreneur
will achieve this one day - is a cultural campus
in pleasant ambience where visitors can go for few
weeks, enjoy good food and accommodation, Carnatic
music, dance performances and also delve any in
the arts with good teachers, all in a pleasant ambience.
Such a place exists in Kerala and you only need
to book ahead of time and pay once.
In Chennai, the continual hassles of going back
and forth to classes and performances in different
places, at inconvenient times, arguing with the
autowallahs, braving the pollution and the streets,
arriving at houses of gurus only to find they are
otherwise occupied, waiting for things to happen,
wondering where to eat at the next meal, while paying
all time for everything, is getting me down, so
maybe my trips to Chennai will become less frequent,
particularly as I am not keen on learning any new
pieces. On recent visits I have focused on performing
in India and developing my own choreographic skills.
Do you teach currently?
Vimala: I do teach but I don't look for students
– they tend to find me. I have a few students
from different cultural backgrounds, and I teach
from a Western perspective using warm-ups and warm
downs and specific exercises.
How
often do you do stage performances? What difficulties
do you face?
Vimala: I stage two or so performances during the
year, in inner-city Sydney to a predominantly non-Indian
inner-ity audience. My main difficulties are in
the marketing of the shows. It is difficult to be
a performer and do all the marketing as well. In
the last performance, I used a ticketing company
and this took some of the work off me. None of the
Indian cultural organizations in Sydney are interested
in promoting local artists.
One issue I face is that Indian audiences in Sydney,
who live in the western suburbs, don't seem to want
to come into the inner city because they cannot
take the car and park in the city, and need to use
public transport. They also do not like paying ticket
prices which are comparable to Australian shows,
such as plays or Western music concerts.
What other things do you practice
that help you to be a better dancer?
Vimala: Pilate is good for building core strength
and I do this regularly. I have also learnt some
modern dance technique based on the barre work done
in ballet, which I found very helpful. Barre works
are useful for all dance movement. I now have a
routine of exercises which I have developed myself
which is especially relevant to classical Indian
dance – incorporating elements of barre work,
balance, some yoga poses and stretching. I am also
learning some Mohiniattam and the plies in that
dance form are at different levels and that is a
good exercise for all dancers. When practising,
I usually work on a piece and then leave it for
a while. I find going back to something after a
break helps internalize the piece, making it feel
different. As well, I have started learning Sanskrit
at Sydney University and that has opened a whole
new avenue of intellectual activity.
What
is your opinion about the current classical dance
scenario in Sydney and in India?
Vimala: The classical dance scenario in Sydney is
a case of 'every man for himself'. All the dancers
are either attached to particular teachers or are
on their own – nobody seems to want to collaborate
with anybody else. I am not sure why this should
be so as collaboration always brings bigger audiences.
For example, I did a collaborative show two years
ago with a Japanese koto player, a Gamelan group,
and Adrian McNeil playing sitar in different segments
of a show call "Moving East", and all
our separate audiences came to the show. I have
done the "Lotus & Phoenix" shows with
Tony Wheeler, an excellent artist who plays string
instruments and the clarinet in different styles,
including the Indian raga music.
I suspect the reason the Indian dancers don't work
together is the fear of being compared. However,
if the styles are different, there can be no comparison.
Also, in general Indians may find it difficult to
discipline themselves and subjugate their personalities
to a common cause – which any good Western
artist does as a matter of professionalism. Their
personas seem to get in the way of the performance.
In India, I have found that, in general, artists
tend to recognize and respect other good artists.
However, there is still not much collaborative work
or shows considering that Chennai is teeming with
good dancers, and the ego is evident everywhere.
How difficult do you think
is to manage a career in dance, a regular job and
family? What is your suggestion to dancers who want
to start a family and still manage a career in dance/kuchipudi?
Vimala: The first premise that is incorrect in your
question is the idea that there can be a career
in dance. Dance may be a full time pursuit but in
no sense is it a career, as it is impossible even
for very good artists to earn a living purely from
dance. It may supplement other sources of income,
and if a show covers all costs, including artist
fees, one is doing just fine. Of course, fitting
a nine-to-five job, family responsibilities and
practice into one day is extremely difficult. In
Australia, where the extended family households
are rare, and household help unaffordable, such
a routine is almost impossible, requiring excellent
organizational skills, unless the children are old
enough to help. So my suggestion is - go to India
if you are able to afford a house and servants!
Is there anything that
you want to tell the current young generation of
dancers, especially those who are pursuing Kuchipudi?
Vimala: Find a good teacher and persevere with your
practice. Dancing is a long journey without a destination,
but it brings its own rewards. It combines physical
activity with the use of the mind, music and lyrics.
It is not necessary to be either a performer or
a teacher; one can get enjoyment and a sense of
accomplishment at every level of learning dance.
However, it is also not something that can be picked
up in a year a two, so be prepared for a long journey
with personal highs, which more than compensate
for the inevitable setbacks and disappointments.
The good news is that, like learning an instrument,
anyone can do it given enough practice.
What is the difference between
a Western audience and an Indian one?
Vimala: One of the thrills of dancing to an Indian
audience in India is that there is no need to go
into much explanation of mudras, etc, or even of
the story being related. The audience relates to
the dancer's expression immediately. Hence, the
facial expression is most important to an Indian
audience, closely followed by adherence to talam
(timing). Even if the dancer has technical perfection,
Indian audiences will not consider her to be a good
dancer unless she also engages the audience with
her expressions. Hence, Swapnasundari draws packed
appreciative audiences to her shows, purely through
her excellent abhinaya, while sitting down through
an entire piece.
For a western audience, pure movement for its own
sake is everything, but it must be executed to perfection.
It does not necessarily have to have meaning. So
in the beginning, I used to do nritta pieces for
western audiences as these were lively and full
of action. However investing a bit of time at the
beginning of a dance to explain some hand gestures
and the meaning of the piece has paid dividends,
and western audiences are very appreciative audiences.
There is usually a pin-drop silence and close attention.
Abhinaya in Kuchipudi pieces is very natural and
transcends cultures.
What
do you think of Bollywood, fusion dance and modern
dance in Australia?
Vimala: Thanks to the film industry, Bollywood is
now a part of the party scene in Australia. People
often come to me and say 'I love Indian culture
– can you do Bollywood?' This is bit like
saying 'I love Western culture – can you do
rock?' Bollywood may be a lot of fun to do, but
it is not to be taken seriously as an art form.
It is tacky – like the films it comes from.
Unfortunately, contemporary dance is what all the
Australian granting bodies seem to like. There is
a tendency to pompously pseudo-intellectualize dance
to the point of absurdity. For example, a dancer,
much supported by the dance bureaucracy, says in
all earnestness about her performance: Dictionary
of Atmospheres presents the body as a meandering
topography, a roaming through shifts in terrain
and flickers of scale. It is a range of perforations,
folds, indentations and ridges which sweep and mould
and precipitate different senses of domain. She
is not the only one, and I don't mean to single
her out. There is also an alarming tendency to talk
about "the process" afterwards. While
this may be of interest to the performers themselves,
it is of little interest to the diminishing audience
of other artists and their friends who go to the
performances.
I think genuine innovation is possible only after
one has completely understood and mastered an art
form, and should add to, or extend it, in new ways,
rather than simplify or diminish it.
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