Dance, Sanskrit, and Other Amazing things

Dance Trancsends...or does it?

2011-12-13T15:08:00.000-05:00

"I began by offering a short critique of the conceptual framework for dance forms as they manifest beyond their traditional location and culture, and suggested that, for all its qualifying practices, artists, audiences, and policy makers are unable to explain differences beyond physical form. Because of the assumed unity of all dance practices, it has been suggested that common cause could be found among all people interested in dance. This presumption is not unique to dance, as the arts in general are often assumed to be a carrier of significance, ways in which cultures can transcend the problematics of language or history, and often automatically, assume an appreciation of the much-discussed and possibly overvalued other." (Lopez y Rojo, DRJ '94 p 89)

Kathak Evolution

2011-11-17T12:52:00.000-05:00

I found this video downright fascinating. There are some incredible uses of kathak in there (like the spins that use tatkar of both feet at the same time) that I haven't seen in quite some time...

Useful Information on Copyrights for Dancers

2011-10-10T12:41:00.000-04:00

http://www.danceheritage.org/publications/copyright.html

They have a downloadable pdf version as well.

The shrinking circle of Indian classical dance lovers

2011-10-06T09:02:00.000-04:00

I had a long conversation with a friend yesterday as to why we thought Indian classical dance doesn't have the same viewership - or importance - as 50, 200, 1,000 years ago.

There are a few, obvious reasons which I've stated before:

1. The fact that Indian classical dance and music is no longer tied into the nationalist movement.

2. Globalization and the film industry - the Shakiras and the Beyonces are the new Shakespeares and Thyagarajas. I have no comment on this because I don't have the perspective of history analyzing their work, and certainly some of it is very smart, but there's no denying the statistics.

Then there are less obvious, but incredibly (in my opinion) damaging issues:

3. The allocation of Indian classical dance and music for only an educated sub-sect of people, or only Indians. When we forget that we're dancing for more than just people who like Indian classical dance, and that that number is diminishing because we're competing with the above forces, we make it really difficult for people to choose us on a Friday night instead of...well...anything else. I think this is changing dramatically, at least in the US, but definitely between the 70's to the 90's - and even perhaps up to just a few years back - this was the case.

4. Preservation. We're so stuck on preserving certain ideals and certain ways of doing things that we suffocate, close off, and strangle the art form. And, like Woody Allen says about relationships, art is like a shark. If it doesn't keep moving, it dies. I can't understand why a patron in India would oppose a kick that reaches a full split because it doesn't seem "bharatanatyam" enough. Have you seen the sculptures in the temples? They are doing things we have not achieved yet!

5. A lack of knowledge or unwillingness to push the body and the adavus. Bharatnatyam, odissi, etc is more than just how low you can sit in aramande or the chauka. Every part should get detail work, we need to be working with physicists, kinesthesiology, etc, to see where we can go further with it. It cannot stop with just the adavus. One of the reasons (other than sheer numbers of people they need for just one show, which can definitely play into it) ballet and contemporary does so well is because the body does things that you just sit there and go..."Wow" too. It's not necessarily just about the flow, the theme, the art. Again, for me, now this is changing. But maybe 20-30 years before 2000 this wasn't happening.

6. Politics. Why has it taken us SO long to join forces? Who cares what the other person is doing? Yes, quality is important, protecting your work is important, but egos need to be set aside. The generation of artists I have been working with are amazing, but I am sometimes still in the middle of - and hear things - that just shock me. This field is difficult enough without other dancers trying to upend other efforts. Work on yourself and your work, spread your message, the fact of the matter is, if one person does really well, they merely bring others to start watching.

And if you are so concerned about quality: once you do watch something great, it's hard to go back to something not so great.

Sanskrit, dance, and music books of particular use

2011-09-25T09:03:00.003-04:00

1. The language of the Gods in the World of Men (Sheldon Pollack)
2. Karanas: Common Dance Codes of India, Volumes 1 and 2 (Padma Subramanyam)
3. The Invention of Tradition (Hobsbaum and Ranger)
4. A Precise History of India (Metcalf and Metcalf)
5. At Home in the World: Bharatanatyam on the Global Stage (Janet O' Shea)
6. Between Theater and Anthropology (Richard Schechner)
7. Natyashastra (Ghosh)
8. Abhinaya Darpana (which translation works best?)
9. The Yoga of Indian Dance (Mandakini Trivedi) - to help understand how dancers perceive their work now in the globalized scheme of things.
10. Puranas (again, translation choice...)
11. Playing in the Dark (Toni Morrison) - I wonder if her application of the analysis of the use of the African American in books written before civil rights allows us to also understand the European - Indian relationship)
12. The Indus Valley: New Perspectives (Jane R. McIntosh) - to get a feel for the history of where many pinpoint showed the first signs of "Indian" arts
13. Art of the First Cities: The Third Millennium B.C. from the Mediterranean to the Indus (Metropolitan Museum of Art Series) by Joan Aruz
14. The Indus Civiliazation by Mortimer Wheeler - again, to understand the "beginning" so to speak
15. Ka by Roberto Calasso - to understand reinterpretations
16. The Clay Library Sanskrit Series - translations of actual plays (to mark similarities in metaphor and use of description and extrapolation in dance and music now)
17. Sanskrit Play Production in Ancient India (Performing Arts Series) by Tarla Mehta
18. Silipadikaram: The Lay of the Ankle Bracelet - this book was used to pinpoint and understand early arts in India
19. Kutiyattam: Sanskrit Theater of India - as one of the forms considered most unchanged in the past few thousand years, it is good to see where it's come from
20. Theatre in Ancient India by Siddheswar Chattopadhyay
21. Contemporary Indian Dance: New Creative Choreography in India and the Diaspora (Studies in International Performance) by Ketu H. Katrak
22. Audience Participation: Essays on Inclusion in Performance (Contributions in Drama and Theatre Studies) by Susan Kattwinkel - ideas on rasa, one of the most important components of the Indian aesthetic theory
23. Time in Indian Music: Rhythm, Metre, and Form in North Indian Rag Performance (Oxf Monographs Music Ncs) by Martin Clayton
24. Two Men and Music: Nationalism in the Making of an Indian Classical Tradition by Janaki Bakhle
25. The Rags of North Indian Music: Their Structure and Evolution by Nazir Ali Jairazbhoy
26. History of South Indian (Carnatic) music, from Vedic times to the present by R Rangaramanuja Iyengar
27. The Ragas of Somanatha: History and Analysis, Musical Examples (Asian Studies) by Emmie te Nijenhuis (Aug 1997)
28. Indian Classical Dance: Tradition in Transition by Leela Venkataraman and Avinash Pasricha - a particularly good book to understand the current "Indian from India" mindset
29. Indian Dance: The Ultimate Metaphor by Shanta Serbjeet Singh
30. Nationalist Thought and the Colonial World: A Derivative Discourse by Partha Chatterjee
31. Rasa: Performing the Divine in India by Susan L. Schwartz
32. Thanjavur: A Cultural History by Pradeep Chakravarthy and Vikram Sathyanathan - particularly important because this is a major change in south indian dance and music history and execution
33. Bollywood and Globalization: Indian Popular Cinema, Nation, and Diaspora (Anthem South Asian Studies) by Rini Bhattacharya Mehta and Rajeshwari V. Pandharipande - it would be good to note how Bollywood borrows and plays a role in all of this
34. Impossible Desires: Queer Diasporas and South Asian Public Cultures (Perverse Modernities) by Gayatri Gopinath (I also wonder how the cross-dressing, role-playing, and gender issues may or may not come into play in all this)
35. Balasaraswati: Her Art and Life by Douglas M. Knight (a staunch advocate who kept away from sanskritization of the body, whereas rukmini devi did otherwise)
36. Unfinished Gestures: Devadasis, Memory, and Modernity in South India (South Asia Across the Disciplines) by Devesh Soneji
37. Singing the Classical, Voicing the Modern (Amanda J. Weidman)
38. Dance Research Journal 36/2 (2004)
39. Rethinking Dance History: A Reader by Alexandra Carter
40. DVDs: Kalakshetra,
41. Nayikas: The Clay Library Series: Sheldon Pollack
42. Translations of Shakuntala and Other Works by Kalidasa (or from the Raghuvamsa as translated in one of my classes)
43. Ãndandavardhana's classic on poetics, the Dhvanyāloka (which introduces the santa, or peace, rasa)
44. St. Thyagaraja, the divine singer: His life and teachings, by Shuddhananda Bharati
45. Mahābhāṣya by Patañjali (contains the first seeds of Sanskrit drama and poetry)

Topics I cannot find enough books on: rasa theory, or the introduction of the bhakti rasa, and obviously on ancient sanskrit drama traditions

The difference 20 years can make in dance...

2011-09-21T11:45:00.003-04:00

MACE | Media Archive for Central England | Media clip[Midland Montage: 27.11.1958: Indian Classical Dance]

Insane how different dance looks even 20-30 years ago!!!

The codification of Sanskirt poetry and literature into Indian classical dance and music

2011-09-19T17:03:00.000-04:00

I think, after everything I've learned, that I do believe there is a traceable lineage of evolution between sanskrit poetry and Indian performance arts. I say this in reference to my post on The Invention of Tradition, and definitely keeping in mind all of my confusion about where bharatanatyam has grown from. I think there are definite ruptures, but in the grand scheme of things, it is an evolution of sorts.

I am going to make this a point of my research over the next year, really trying to understand what happened from the Sanskrit literary tradition to dance and music. Here are the unofficial reasons for my hypothesis:

1. When poets would read Sanskrit literature way back when (not sure of the date) they would use hand gestures while they were speaking to help people understand the meaning of what they were saying. Whether this was an acoustic thing or just extra, who knows? But I wonder if this is a pre-cursor to mudras.

2. During recitation of slokas, etc, people started to assign specific pitches at specific times. Could this in turn indicate some sort of precursor for ragas? Eventually this was also implemented with specific hand gestural use.

These two things sparked my interest. What actually happened to separate literature from drama, and then drama from dance and music? There used to be a saying: "without language, music, and dance, there is no art". Obviously we view these 3 as separate, distinct categories now. How did that happen?

More to come on books I have to read in order to further probe this topic.

Angry Ranting

2011-07-27T12:55:00.003-04:00

http://auroville2.wordpress.com/2008/07/03/auroville-life-through-the-mirror-of-shanti-pillais-outrageous-dissertations/

The article above is a rant as to Shanti Pillai's work. While I may not agree with everything she says in her dissertation, I don't believe it is so poorly done that so many of bits and pieces of the article can be taken as the author above does. Anyway I wanted to post now so I would come back to it later and really parse it, but I think one of my professors said it best:

When you are young, everything seems ridiculous to you and you are galled by the state of things. You become an angry scholar, intent upon spreading as much of your "knowledge" as possible and "rectifying" everyone's way of acknowledging things as wrong. However, as you get older, you begin to understand pluralism much, much better - and that all arguments are correct - just that some arguments are better than others.

Lyrical Help

2011-07-26T11:50:00.000-04:00

This site looks incredibly informative and helpful for if you need to look up lyrics to a particular song or request help --

Enjoy!

http://www.allyouwannaknow.net/musicandme/2009/11/03/jagadaanandakaaraka-nattai/

Feeling Cheated

2011-07-20T10:08:00.000-04:00

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day, and she put into words perfectly how artists feel.

"Cheated. We all feel cheated and undervalued."

The more I thought about this word, the more I felt she had it spot on. That is exactly how every person feels. The honest to god truth is, if we were all living comfortable - making as much money as our lawyer and engineer and finance friends instead of struggling day in and day out to make ends meet doing something we supposedly love, I doubt any of these "wars" would happen. The musician feels cheated because they are not getting enough from a performance where they see endless amounts of people coming through for a performance. The dancer feels cheated because they are spending hundreds of hours creating and choreographing and rehearsing a performance and then the musician is making more money than them for maybe 1/16 of the time they have put in, if that. The producer feels cheated because artists see "big money" and are continuously asking for more - again, making more money than the producers themselves.

Money does make the world go around and art has certainly become more of a money oriented business than ever before, to the point where I think the art world itself - at least the one we have created for South Asian ones here in NYC - is hurting itself. The suspicion, the politics, the egos - it's become really unbearable and almost sad to witness.

Bring back the selfless patrons who would just pay for an artist to sit around and be creative! Then we'd all happily help each other out, work for one another, and perhaps smile again instead of making our working lives so miserable!

The language of puns

2011-07-06T10:27:00.004-04:00

One of the interesting things about Sanskrit that leads to its poetic complexity is the double, triple, or even quadruple meaning of certain words.

Sanskrit is all about complex puns. Sanskrit will take a phrase like "That person has baggage" and mean both that they have literal baggage as well as problems from their past that screw with their present.

In fact, the number one itself has, as I've seen, close to 30 words for it. Words like sun and moon, of which there are only one in the world. It can lead to some fascinating metaphors.

For instance, there is a poem we read once that I loved - I have been searching for it but cannot remember its name or find it anywhere anymore, but it's entire meaning was of two. Read literally, it was about a tree's growth, and it's different stages. But the other meaning within was that the words could be taken to mean the different (I believe in Sanskrit there are 7) stages of love. Not just a metaphor, but actual literal meaning. (Eg one line could mean that the tree was becoming red with blooms but also could read that the man was bleeding from the heart).

There's another kind of interesting interpretation one can do with Sanskrit that is particular to its strange sandhi rules, where all the syllables are mashed together and you're not quite sure where words begin and ends. In fact, there was a verse where someone was addressing a god - and depending on where you broke it up - you could either be praising the God or being completely blasphemous. It all stood in perspective.

Perspective does seem to be everything, doesn't it?

The Dancer/Musician War

2011-06-19T21:14:00.000-04:00

I have come across a lot of craziness in the arts but none so much so as the constant misunderstandings and misinterpretations between dancers and musicians. I honestly wanted to structure this like my producer/artist blog, where both are equally responsible for weird pushes and pulls, but with dancers and musicians here in the US, and probably in India for some of it as well, there is a GREAT deal of walking all over a dancer.

Let me outline a few of the massively unprofessional and crazy things I have seen:

1. Claims for random things AFTER a performance with no understanding prior that the dancer who had hired the musicians were apparently responsible for such claims. (Sending invoices for parking receipts, or gas mileage for travel costs).
3. Lateness (coming 2 hours late to rehearsal with not so much as a phone call. No matter what the emergency is, find a way to communicate it).
4. Agreeing to rehearsals and trying to weasel your way out of them.
5. Asking for more money after dancers have given musicians a number.
6. Copping out midway through a set of shows because something better has come your way.
7. Copping out midway and not even finding a replacement.
8. Demanding payment anyway after said cop out.
9. Musicians demanding so much money that most of the time a dancer makes no money - or much less than the musicians, though he/she has hired them and also gotten them the job.
10. Telling us - especially when it comes to technical things such as number of repetitions or mood of a program - that they know better than the choreographer as to how it should go.
11. Not being able to pay dance involved in a show because musicians won't take any less even though we probably put in at least 10 times as many hours for that given show.
12. Telling us you work really hard so we should be paying you more. Seriously??? WE ALL DO. That is the most insulting statement a musician can make. Do you think we're holding back on the amount of money we can give you and sitting high and rich on our laurels????
13. Agree to a number, start rehearsals, and then ask for more money.

Mostly it seems to come from two things: one, that dancers have money spilling out of their ears and two, some kind of notion that because being hired for dance won't help their reputation as musicians that it is okay to treat it like a very idiotic opportunity. Or because normally with music there is less coordination required to complete a piece after it's been composed? (I have no idea if this one is true but am assuming it is because once artists get the gist of a song for dance seem to think they no longer need any rehearsal).

I would like to point out that there is some gross kind of misinterpretation of audience numbers and money given for performances going on. I can't remember the last time I was actually paid as much money as the live musicians were or the composers for my own pieces were. Most of the time after paying everyone else, myself and every other dancer I know are not getting anything at all, and not because I'm not budgeting myself properly, but because the artists will literally refuse to do it for a smaller number and we get stuck with no other creative choices between copyright licenses, lack of resources, and the like.

Which confuses me, because we in fact do give them performances that help provide them with money for their life as artists. If in fact you are doing so well that you find the amount of money we are giving you too little for your work, then say no! Not only will they not refuse and demand more payment, but will do so without providing a number that they would do it for. Essentially, from all the conversations I've garnered, had, and negotiated, they probably will do it for that first number you've given them, but are trying to see how much more they can squeeze out of you. The conversations end up being a sad, manipulative, and unprofessional way of getting more money that results in musicians not having a clue as to what kind of damage they wreak on the people providing them with opportunities.

The sad part of all this is the people that it hurts are the patrons. Dancers cannot afford as many good programs, and frankly, I usually barely break even on the programming I do when musicians are involved even when they bring in the most revenue. Yet, I make the most profit when I work with dancers, who will work with less - and not because I'm taking advantage of that but because there is some kind of understanding that I am giving as much as I possibly can and dancers do not push the fact that they may be the only ones with the skill set necessary for a particular project.

We're all struggling here and it's crazy to me to see this unprofessional behavior.

The Producer/Artist Stranglehold

2011-06-16T11:35:00.000-04:00

I'm writing this post because I think this doesn't just apply to performing artists and producers who do shows, but any kind of creative service/distributer service industry.

I am both an artist and a producer and I come across, very often, the feelings of frustration of artists who believe they deserve more money than they are getting and the producers who are tired of giving it and not making anything themselves.

Let's be frank: both sides deserve more money, but the fact of the matter is both sides need to make a living wage and can't on what they're making from smaller programming. Both sides cannot survive without the other but there are some basic business practices to follow to make it work that I have learned over the years:

Artists:

1. Do not come to the producer with claims AFTER the show. The producer has a set budget and if we are not given a choice to exclude something, or to find a way to avoid a fee, it should not be our problem. Artists coming to us with claims for parking fees, travelling fees, etc need to be outlined before hand, not after. I cannot tell you how many times I've had to deal with this -- eg, if I've asked you to come volunteer for something, and then you give me a train ticket the day after for $100 (or even a bus ticket for $20) and then say that I should be reimbursing this stuff because that's how it's done, well, I can't. More likely than not if I know about extra costs before hand I'll figure out a way to avoid it altogether if it means getting someone else to do it or coming up with some other creative solution.

2. Do NOT negotiate up or down if a producer has already given you a number and you've started rehearsals. Work this out prior to doing anything. At the end of the day, if I am able to afford it, I'll give you more, but once we start rehearsals, I have no choice but to follow through with you and your talent and run myself ragged trying to figure out how to give you that extra $200 you are asking for.

3. If the producer hasn't asked for it, don't try to convince us that we need it. Especially not one week before the program. I've had people ask for extra mics which would just cause feedback on stage in such close proximity to one another, extra instruments, or extra artists. Are you kidding? If you're asking me a week before I have no budget for it and these things need to planned for well in advance.

4. Be on time.

5. Do NOT keep asking for complimentary tickets. Definitely don't ask me for complimentary tickets an hour before the show is about to start.

6. Just because it seems like we sold a lot of tickets, or a program was full, or we have the POTENTIAL to make a lot of money doesn't mean we made any money at all. Seriously. Between paying all the artists, the equipment, and the advertisement sometimes we don't see any green at all. Whenever artists actually see my final budget they're always a little bit shocked at how little we've made, or lost, in some cases.

Producers:

1. Always be frank from the start about what you are able to provide.

2. Get a contract signed. Really. Anytime I have NOT had a contract signed prior to starting anything I've found myself in a deep pile of crap later on. This goes double for people who are friends first that you are working with. It both avoids any misunderstandings and there are a surprising number of people out there who are a little bit unstable and will screw you at the first chance they can, whether intentionally or not.

3. Don't get overly crazy about rules for a space. An air of casual elegance should be maintained at all times but if someone moves a curtain or asks to change a piece after they submit their initial proposal, keep an open mind. Flexibility is key in business and understanding when to fight your battles will keep you sane.

4. If something isn't an additional stress to change, and the artist wants it, there's no problem in making this happen. (Eg if an artist feels their name should be in 14pt vs 12pt font, as long as it all fits on the flyer and doesn't screw up the aesthetic it should be FINE to change).

5. If the artist hasn't asked for it, don't try to convince them that they need it. While on tour for Her Story, one of the producers tried to get us to compose completely new music, scrap half of the show, and put in some other pieces. Erm???

In conclusion, while these rules are good practice, and are generally the same both ways around, they aren't hard and fast. Sometimes you SHOULD listen to a producer who tells you a third person is needed. Sometimes you SHOULD change what the artist asks you to do even though you want it. But they are good rules to start with that save everyone a lot of pain and annoyances.

Balasaraswati and Rukmini Devi - wonders of the revivalist movement

2011-05-04T10:59:00.000-04:00

This post was sparked by Janet O' Shea's book, Bharatanatyam in a Globalized World.

Child Prodigies

2011-04-09T11:46:00.000-04:00

I genuinely don't know how I feel about this group of children, for several reasons.

1. The choreographer has moved odissi for these gotipua children from dance into spectacle. It is not about creating rasa but eliciting cheers. I can't fault him for that, all dance needs a little spectacle to keep the audience from drooping, but this was mostly cheerleading stunts and gymnastics and splits and didn't quite float my boat. Though it kept me staring at the screen in a mixture of fascination and horror.

2. Why in horror, do you ask? This kind of odd coordination and flexibility out of such small children makes me wonder how they get that out of them at such a young age. I know people want to help their kids become great, but I always wonder how far we are pushing it. I only comment on this after a series of bharatanatyam videos I saw of great and very, very small children. And knowing that often (I have no idea about this particular case) children are broken and re-molded to create beauty like this at a young age.

I only bring this up because I don't think people give a second thought to what it might take to bring them the entertainment they love so much.

How the Western thought process begins to affect Bharatanatyam

2011-02-15T23:48:00.002-05:00

Continued from my globalization killing off art and culture post...lol. Yes, I do recognize my flair for the overdramatic.

Just as industrialization began to wipe out the natural world at alarming rates, killing species every day, globalization and cultural hegemony seem to do the same for culture and art.

Cultural hegemony was, and has always been happening. Along with it, art and ritual and customs disappear, but usually at a slow enough rate that there is an acknowledgement and reversal; or preservation of rituals that are being affected.

So is it just natural change or something to be really worried about?

In the scientific process, the starting point are the underlying facts of the situation: in this case, that change within art – ritual – natya (theater, dance, music, etc) – however you choose to note its existence – is as sure as death within the human race. Change in and of itself is not bad. But removal and loss without thought or proper prerogative is. The question then transforms: what change is natural and thought out, what is forced and thus undesirable?

If you look at the example provided by the age of industrialization - you see a forced change within the world that has been created by a rapid demolition without knowledge or second thought with no method of retrieval and re-establishment in a satisfying way. So does change due to cultural hegemony belong under “natural” change or “forced” change?

For instance, I attended a lecture with Elizabeth Sackler that brought to light examples of this phenomena exactly. Eager to display Native American culture and show America’s love of their work museums would put Native American ritual masks under glass displays. The unfortunate part of all this was that it was a violation of the masks’ use and thus of Native American belief systems which put the Western world right back at square one: disrespecting minority cultures allowing America to show just how unequal “the other” is.

A good example of a more natural (though not necessarily more harmonious) cultural hegemony is when the Mughals came to India. Though the Mughals were the rulers they melded their arts with ours to create such wonders as the Taj Mahal, and the North Indian dance form Kathak, which coexisted with other forms such as Odissi and Bharatanatyam and hundreds of other regional variations of what was considered to be classical dance, none better than the other, and all giving itself up to some way of spiritual enlightenment and social/community construction. Even better is that you don't hear very much research here on how dancers were upset about this change (I wonder if it's just not recorded...)

Oftentimes, neither the culture in power nor the culture playing into it realizes it is happening...in a culture’s eagerness to show respect and equality America, England, and other Western countries still force the “other” to fit into their forms and expectations. The result is simple: a power play.

On the other side of the coin, there is the idea that minority cultures should not be so upset with Americans, for it is part of the Western way and culture to act in this manner. If the Western culture were endangered, perhaps minorities would not be so difficult about these points. It is still important to note, however, that it is only within the Western world that countries feel entitled to take that which is not theirs to examine, document, notate and use as they please. Indians cannot come to America, remove the Liberty Bell, and stick it in one of their museums - but England is allowed to take the crown jewels of South Asia and put them on display in museums for "preservation". So, until perhaps India can do that - or England gives back those crown jewels...well, we seem to be stuck in a role where cultural hegemony is bound to happen. And one where we must question changes with a critical eye until that power play is equal...and pluralism is restored.

Questions of Cultural Hegemony in Indian Classical Dance

2011-02-08T11:01:00.001-05:00

In this globalizing world, how does cultural hegemony change the art we see around us?

For those who don't know, hegemony itself is as the *infallible* Wikipedia defines it:

"Hegemony is the political, economic, ideological or cultural power exerted by a dominant group over other groups, regardless of the explicit consent of the latter...The term is often mistakenly used to suggest brute power or dominance, when it is better defined as emphasizing how control is achieved through consensus not force."

There are two things of import to me in this definition: one, that it is about the control of one group over another, and two, that this control is gained quite subversively...

And here is what I am constantly wondering in terms of how cultural hegemony has come to play in Indian Classical Dance culture:

Westerners, eager to preserve and protect culture, end up changing it in ways they never realize – from the simplest of moves such as where an art form is displayed and/or performed to radically changing the use and utilization of a piece of art. How, in turn, do these changes also change the effect of these forms?

Perhaps even more noteworthy is that many artists are unaware it is happening as they change and adjust their work to become more accessible to the world around them in the face of extinction or irrelevance.

Cultural hegemony also plays a role in valuation of art. As art has gone the way of the Western world and dissociated itself with ritual, art has become entertainment rather than spiritual for many. Art does reflect society and vice versa, but again, it must be considered: what is lost in this shift?

Also, are the effects of a traditional form like bharatanatyam, initially danced in temples and watched with complete social interactions, diminished by its transition to the proscenium stage and change to group choreography? Though art will always change because of the world around it, globalization seems to speed it up with such coldness. The speed is a a result of a rush to preserve and protect in order to overcome extinction, resulting in both the minority and majority frantically changing forms and artistic visions in simple ways to keep them relevant to the persons in power…

The Locavore Dance Movement

2011-01-19T10:05:00.001-05:00

I love India. I really, really do.

But after watching now for 20+ years dancers constantly heading back there for six months at a time to train, establish their career, get their photographs taken, costumes designed, supplies purchased, and earn their stripes as a performer, I have to say: Enough!

Perhaps this was necessary in the beginning, but now, why?

There are wonderful teachers here, knowledgable and hardworking artists, and resources galore. How do we ever expect to become a global art form if we work to keep it as localized and regionalized as possible?

Yes, we don't have the perfect kanjeevaram silk that Chennai makes best or perhaps the tailors for Indian costuming...but why can't we expand what that costume can be by using the materials available to us in our own neighborhood? It is not blasphemous to support your local businesses, and you'll certainly be expanding the number of people who come to learn about the work you do if artists become less India dependent.

That's what seems to be the problem. Do you need tomatoes from Italy to make a delicious pasta sauce? It's actually not going to be that great unless you're IN Italy. If instead, you opt for your farmer's market tomatoes, yes the taste of the sauce will be different, but frankly, the quality will be higher! Indian classical dancers should really start to adopt the locavore food movement except in terms of using the resources around us. Perhaps our flavor will become more "Americanized" but if you accept that with tradition and art comes change and you are NOT accepting diminishing quality, it becomes less problematic than one might think.

P.S. - I linked in Michael Pollan's Omnivore's Dilemma because that's where a lot of my food analogies spark from. Maybe you will be similarly inspired.

Nrtta Hastas

2011-01-16T12:47:00.000-05:00

Did you know there are nrtta hastas listed in the Natyashastra specifically used for nrtta? I had no idea - I thought there were just the 28 asamyuta hastas (one hand gestures). I am going to look up these in my copy of the Natyashastra and make them available to you here.

Interesting, isn't it, how much we take from the Natyashastra and at the same time how much we ignore?

Definitely proof of why you can move past texts to choreograph within classical dances.

The Surprising Overlap of Teaching Methods in Chinese and Indian aesthetics

2011-01-07T08:12:00.000-05:00

I have been learning about chi, hana, rasa, and praxis (the Chinese, Japanese, Indian, and Greek theories of aesthetics, respectively) in a class taught by Richard Schechner, and am continuously surprised by the level of overlap within these theories in practice.

Yes, yes, many scholars are probably smacking their foreheads right now, "Do we have another one who thinks all these distinctly different theories are the same and believes in universality?"

The answer is no.

So before you start smashing your forehead into the screen, while I acknowledge major and distinct differences in each of these theories, I tend to concentrate on where they overlap. Ignoring the similarities is just as bad of a trait as ignoring their differences.

The training methods of the Beijing Opera and Indian classical dancers seem much the same. Imitate (including the dance - acting) and eventually you will understand and "get it". They seem to have the same pride for the guru-shisya tradition as well. There is an inordinate amount of attention paid to the eye movement training. And, oddly enough, they also isolate the different parts of the body to create "adavus" that seem to be labeled "jingju" in Beijing Opera. None are really written down but passed along orally.

Perhaps this seems superficial, but I do think there is more to this than meets the eye.

Dance and Animation!

2010-12-15T13:04:00.000-05:00

So I may have been doing dance/video pieces, but this guy has done a dance/video/animation piece.

Awesome.

http://vimeo.com/14803194

"The Dancer Within"

2010-12-10T12:36:00.000-05:00

I am on the 8th floor of the Chicago Public Library and I never want to leave. I picked up this book by Rose Eichenbaum and it is a set of interviews of famous artists/dancers. It is fabulous. I don't know why hearing what Martha Graham teach someone or how Alvin Ailey was very respectful of the individuality of his dancers or how Balanchine didn't care who his successor was is such intriguing material to me, but it is. Hearing it firsthand can be quite profound.

Regardless, I wanted to quote some quotes from the book. Maybe I will quote more later...

ETHAN STIEFEL:
“As a dancer your job is to interpret your character or, in an abstract ballet, a story or viewpoint. What’s it like for you when you feel your own identity surface?”

“I can’t really describe what that feelsl ike, but I do know that it’s what keeps me going, even through all these injuries. I can try to explain it with words like joy, fulfillment, euphoria, but these words are insufficient and inaccurate.”

“When you get into that emotionally charged place, do you try to linger there a while?”
“To try to linger there would suggest that you have some control over it. I don’t. I’m only in control of the steps that i’m doing and the training and the musicality I possess. I only have the tools to go for the ride. I’d be foolish to think I control what happens out there. I’d be foolish to want to”.

YURIKO

“Do you remember your first class with Martha?”

“I’ll never forget it. I came in and took a place in the back of the room. Louis Horst was playing the piano. Martha stood at the front of the room and demonstrated a contraction.” Yuriko now sat up, her eyes shining. “As Martha’s torso hollowed I thought to myself, that’s what I want in my body. Here was drama. Here was creativity. I had to find out where it comes from. In time, I understood that the contraction comes from the breath, and that its shape originates from a deep source within the body. This source extends to all the extremities in the physical body. Take for example, Martha’s famous cupped hand,” she said, demonstrating. “This is not a position or a shape. It comes from here,” she said, pointing to her solar plexus and then drawing her finger up the chest, through the armpit, down her arm to the center of her hand. “The body’s center islike the roots of a tree that sends nourishment out to all its branches. A contraction vibrates through the body and ends right here,” she said, pressing her index finger into the center of her cupped hand. “It’s alive. A shape is not alive. To achieve, this, you have to steal it,” she said, looking me in the eye.”

JACQUES D' AMBROISE
“Rose, it’s not really a mission. I simply realized what a transforming experience being an artist is. I wanted to share it. There is great joy in being consumed with an art form and making it your life. And it’s true of all the arts...if you are lucky enough to ‘play’ with tremendously talented people as your teachers, it is a soul-transforming epiphany...”

The Palace of Illusions

2010-12-08T10:26:00.000-05:00

I love this book -- a rewrite of the Mahabharata from Draupadi's point of view by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni.

Here are some quotes I found to be particularly poignant:

"Krishna shrugged. '...Isn't that what truth is? The force of a person's believing seeps into those around him -- into the very earth and air and water -- until there's nothing else.'"
(page 49)

"Remember that, little sister. Wait for a man to avenge your honor, and you'll wait forever."
(page 49)

"Every time I spoke it, it embedded itself deeper...for a story gains power with retelling."
(page 20)

The Mahabharata in essence:
"And so I stood struggling with my ego until the brief moment of opportunity vanished."
(page 173

And in case I over glorify our tales:
"...it is not fitting that a celibate should think too much on the ways of women, who are the path to ruin."
(page 24)
Although, I suppose, it is arguable whether the poet means "all women are the path to ruin for every man" or "for celibates women are the path to ruin" (which would be breaking your celibate vow, in which case the implied meaning is harmless)

The Ever Changing Tradition of Bharatanatyam, Part 5

2010-12-07T09:09:00.004-05:00

More changes that have occurred...

It is of interest to note that since the repertoire of Indian classical dance was of solely bhakti pieces prior to this change, the pieces involving contemporary themes had to be created, another prized Western idea, “newness”. (Lopez y Royo) But rather than compose music themselves filled with new ideas and new lyrics, many of these pieces are derived from pieces of poetry that date back thousands of years. (Alarmel Valli’s prakrit and pieces “Lament for a Fallen Soldier” and “the Forgotten Seed” as well as Priyadarshani Govind’s varnam “Prahalada” are prime examples). It quickly points to a strong desire to show the relevance of ancient techniques and traditions. There is justification to be found about the universality of emotions through time when artists create contemporarily-themed pieces from poetry that was written thousands of years ago. In this way, bharatanatyam practitioners provide proof as to the relevance of traditional Indian dance today and how it will continue to be so in the future.

Another change slowly being realized in bharatanatyam is a disappearance of banis, or styles of bharatanatyam (usually based on which region they came from) and thus, a slow elimination of the regional differences within bharatanatyam. Simple globalization of the form is attributed to this, because streamlining again is easier for a viewer to digest. When an artist retains all of the subtle nuances of a form, expecting others to enjoy because they are knowledgeable in the style, the audience is immediately limited, and the artist also limits the other artists they can work with. Thus, most schools have slowly been adopting the Kalakshetra style of nrtta, with its rigidity of technique and style.

This is partially because Kalakshetra is the most well known and widely accepted style.
Kalakshetra exhibits its own hegemony on the other, lesser known banis. The other is that the Kalakshetra style is most easily appreciable by audiences because of its technicalities. This change towards a Kalakshetra style of dance is easily seen through Priyadarshani Govind (Vazhoor style) and Alarmel Valli (Pandanullur style). One look at youtube clips by the famous dancer Padma Subramanyam, who was trained in the Vazhoor style, compared to current clips of Priyadarshani Govind shows how the Vazhoor style has changed. There is now a considerable emphasis on the aramande, (the posture that most steps are executed in), with an importance placed on much sharper upper body movements and a perfect diamond shape of the legs.

This ease of appreciation of technique is also why dancers Mallavika Sarukkai and Rama Vaidhyanathan (Venkatraman**) place such a great emphasis on it. Both are well known (especially Mallavika) for their extremely fast paced jathis and obsession with nrtta technicalities. Not only is nrtta easy for an unknowledgable audience member to understand, the fast paced jathis elicit more “oohs” and “aahs” then slow paced ones. More audiences can appreciate a ridiculously fast jathi than one concentrating on the control of movement.

A great example of how this tradition has actually been changed and implemented is to look at the new generation of artists such as Mythili Prakash, or Anita Sivaraman*, whose excellent technique and fast paced jathis are what has brought them great recognition.

Now as we look to the future, one must wonder how tradition will change from this generation to the next? It certainly looks as though we are making a slow move to a contemporary or modern aesthetic. Only time will tell.

*Anitha Sivaraman, exceptional NRI Bharatanatyam dancers, and more about lokadharmi, natyadharmi and the American lasya. Anita. Rev. of Anita Sivaraman. Web log post. Bharatanatyam in Chennai. 10 Jan. 2008. Web. .

**Venkatraman, Leela. The Hindu [Chennai] Aug. 1998. Print.

The Ever Changing Tradition of Bharatanatyam, Part 4

2010-12-02T09:00:00.008-05:00

How do audience influence and innovation come together to change the structure?

One of the major changes to date is the alteration of the margam structure. The margam structure consists of an ordered set of pieces, wherein which each piece has a particular set of rules that a musical composer must follow in order for it to be considered as such. The order, as set up by the Thanjavur quartet, is: alarippu, jathiswaram, sabdam, varnam, a series of padams, and finally, a thillana. There is an inherent symmetry to the structure, where the dancer warms up her limbs on stage with an alarippu, then takes the viewer through the more rigorous – but still only nrtta (pure dance) aspects of the jathiswaram, introduces abhinaya (facial expressions) in the sabdam, all leading to the piece de resistance, the varnam. The varnam is explored fully over a half hour, following a jathi (chunk of nrtta) – swaram (chunk of lyrical song involving abhinaya) – jathi – swaram structure. Then the padams are performed – short lyrical pieces based on mostly facial expressions and storytelling, and finally the thillana – pure nrtta again, but still complex, like the jathiswaram. The pieces involving abhinaya are usually based around stories from Hindu mythology and involve the bhakti emotion: devotion, usually to a Hindu deity.

This margam structure has changed drastically. Even simple ideas such as the length of a margam have succumbed to the will of the people. Margams, previously having been three to four hours, have shortened to fit within the span of two, a direct result of catering to global audiences. Alarmel Valli’s most recent tour in the US, The Forgotten Seed, fit precisely within a two hour block with a nice 10 minute intermission. A quick look at the past, however, shows that this was not always the case: an interview with Valli shows her previous stand where her margams used to be “uncompromisingly long”, ranging between three and four hours. (Bharatanatyam and the World Wide Web*) Yet compromise she has: audience members, adamant about the length of a performance, have created this change. For instance, the main – and usually only – complaint about Her Story, a recent choreography of mine, was that there was no intermission in the course of the two-hour show.

These are just minor changes compared to what else has happened to the margam: both the piece-wise structure and the emotional themes have been altered. Margams no longer need to follow the pushpanjali-jathiswaram-sabdam-varnam-padams-thillana structure but rather can follow the emotional structure as outlined above, that of a bell curve with a slow and subtle rise to the main piece and a drop off to an ending that completes itself on a higher note than the beginning. Alarmel Valli, again, recently displayed this change by keeping only the varnam of the margam and replacing the other pieces with new compositions. (Sambamoorthi) In fact, these changes to margam structure have been happening enough that even the recent choreography Her Story was deemed completely traditional, though it only began with a pushpanjali and ended with a thillana. (Gautam**) The varnam was completely replaced by a new composition filled with speech, jathis, and a thematic storyline that was woven throughout.

These changes happen because competing artists are constantly finding ways to create “new” within the “traditional” (O’Shea). New compositions allow for artists to explore novel ways of keeping audiences interested in their performances utilizing fresh themes and innovative pieces. Interestingly enough, this exploration has also resulted in another change: that of the removal of the bhakti emotion as the prevailing emotion in a margam. In fact, all four top artists have major noteworthy pieces that have nothing to do with bhakti or even a Hindu deity, and these days rarely perform a full margam fully devoted to one deity as was done thirty to fifty years ago. The emotions throughout a margam have also taken on a much more secular tone, a direct result of artists trying to connect with audiences who are not able to empathize with bhakti, a very Indian specific and religious notion which thus limits the audience members who can feel and appreciate the dance the way it is meant to be understood.

The artists now often explore very contemporary ideas and themes in order to gain and keep a larger audience, for an audience that can empathize and appreciate is much more likely to expand and return than one that believes they are simply watching a cultural phenomena. So, themes such as war and sadness for a fallen child (for example, both Priyadarshani Govind and Alarmel Valli have noted pieces that relate to this theme), the power of women (exemplified time and again by Rama Vaidhyanathan) and abstract notions such as light and color (Mallavika Sarukkai’s expertise) are explored. Rama and Alarmel even make direct associations with the contemporary, Alarmel stating that she likes to “convey the contemporary through the traditional” (www.alarmelvalli.org); Rama claiming that “she…intends to address several contemporary issues that all mankind can relate to” (www.ramavaidhyanathan.com***).

*Valli, Alarmel. "Ageless Magic of the Margam." Interview. Web log post.Bharatanatyam and the World Wide Web. 27 June 2008. Web. .

**Gautam, Savitha. "Pivotal moments in their lives." The Hindu [Chennai] 24 July 2009. Print.

***Rama Vaidyanathan - Bharata Natyam exponent and choreographer. -www.ramavaidyanathan.com. Web. 18 Dec. 2009. .

The Ever Changing Tradition of Bharatanatyam, Part 3

2010-11-27T08:54:00.002-05:00

So how does a tradition like bharatanatyam change?

It is no secret that bharatanatyam is perceived as an ancient tradition,generally noted by most that the roots of bharatanatyam may be traced back a few thousand years, to the temples where it is thought to originate. For the most part, people are under the impression that much of the style has remained preserved (but not unchanged) since. Most classical dances – and most definitely, bharatanatyam, refer to the Natyashastra by Bharata and Abhinavagupta’s writing on rasa theory to provide evidence of the form’s adherence to what is considered traditional. Much weight is also placed on the margam structure set up by the Thanjavur court in the 19th century, which dictates the order and the types of pieces performed during a show. These elements combined with the expected visual/music aspects are what was, in the past, crucial to being considered a traditional artist.

The present, however, is a different story. Tradition itself is ever-changing, (just as all things are) but what makes changes within tradition special is the inherent perception that it is unchanged. Thus, change within tradition must happen subtley and imperceptibly, creeping up on people without the realization of it happening. Tradition, as defined by a google search, pops up as “a specific practice of long standing”, and in Wikipedia, “tradition is presumed to be ancient, unalterable, and deeply important…”

So then, how does tradition within Indian classical dance change? Richard Schechner* proposes that this change, in Eastern theater, is based on the older performers. To summarize, a young performer spends years training under an older practitioner and repeating the pieces the way he/she has been taught them, changing absolutely nothing. Eventually, as the young artist grows, their reputation becomes associated with the form itself, their very essence deemed part of the tradition. Once they themselves have become an older practitioner, they introduce changes to structure and form that go by relatively unnoticed because of their perceived status. These incredibly new ideas are then passed down to a young student and saved into the repertoire forever altering the tradition. (Schechner) Bharatanatyam, with its guru-shishya approach to teaching and primarily solo style of performance, follows this pattern.

Because bharatanatyam is primarily a solo dancer tradition, it is the famous ones that are looked to for guidance into the future. The four major solo artists in India now, as noted by Narthaki.com are Alarmel Valli, Priyadarshani Govind, Mallavika Sarukkai, and Rama Vaidhyanathan; and each have their way of exhibiting how global pressures have changed the solo style.

*Schechner, Richard. Between Theater and Anthropology. NYU. Print.

The Ever Changing Tradition of Bharatanatyam, Part 2

2010-11-23T08:33:00.002-05:00

Which types of audience members expect what and why?

Westerners love to watch “traditional” Indian classical dance – the kind that they assume can be traced back thousands of years. There seems to be some sort of psychological intrigue there, to watch what they perceive as another culture’s virtually unchanged identity. Whatever the case may be, the parameters of a successful performance to them are those that maintain the image of tradition. In parallel, they expect these performances to run within the parameters of certain Western standards such as time and structure of performances. With an eye on expanding into this unexposed market, artists are watchful of these desires.

The Indians within the global diaspora, however, control the economy of the artist: they are the ones who sponsor the tours that in turn bring artists the money to live comfortably in India. (O’Shea*) To these non-resident Indians, known as NRIs, the Indian classical arts speak enormously to their heritage and reaffirm and preserve their cultural processes. (Lopez y Royo***, Pillai**) As such, they, too, demand traditional performances with as little change as possible to the norm that they are aware of. A conversation with the Indo-American Council and Religious Foundation in New Jersey confirmed this. The board members stated that one of the few times they brought a dancer and her troupe from India with a recognizably contemporary style, patrons returned to them afterwards complaining of the show’s lack of traditionalism and hoped the IACRF would no longer bring such artists. With the amount of money and performance opportunities these wealthy patrons provide, performers of Indian classical dance again find a strong tug towards the traditional framework.

NRIs also make sure to train their children in the classical arts, who themselves cite that they cherish the form not because of its aesthetic beauty but for the simple means of keeping in touch with their heritage. This is not enough, however, for first generation children to continue patronage of such arts as they grow up, apparent from the aging audience at classical dance shows these days. So artists must address this issue in their performances as well.

Indians within India also run along the same thread of thought. While modern and contemporary dance is becoming more accepted, many Indians still view hybridity of forms and innovation within the field with suspicion (Lopez y Royo***). For instance, at a recent viewing of Tejas by Malini Srinivasan here and Manhattan, the troupe changed into some mohiniattam style clothng that was wound around their front and tied in the back, revealing a decent amount of skin. While still modest, it was more revealing than patrons were used to and I immediately herd some elderly ladies make some judgmental comments about the costume. So while people seem to enjoy innovation, it is a very fine line artists must tread.

As Lopez y Royo*** states, there is a great deal of contemplation as to what will happen to the form without this allowance for more modernity within the field. This polarizing duality makes for artists who struggle endlessly to place bharatanatyam firmly in a globalized context with new innovations and ideas in order to create sustainability while remaining within a static framework to continue to receive patronage.

This is the major influence shaping the way this tradition is perceived; the attempts to reach broader, larger, and more diverse audiences by remaining "classical" while still "innovating" directing the course of the changes. It is a fact that outside pressures will always create a change in tradition, and in this case, I posit that it is the struggle for sustainability and relevance in this globalizing world that are the determining factors.

* O' Shea, Janet. At Home in the World: Bharata Natyam on the Global Stage. Boston: Wesleyan, 2007. Print.

** Pillai, Shanti. "Rethinking Global Indian Dance through Local Eyes: The contemporary bharatanatyam scene in Chennai." Dance Research Journal. Print.

*** Lopez y Royo, Alessandra. "Issues in Dance Reconstruction: Karanas as Dance Texts in a Cross-Cultural Context." Dance Research Journal 36/2 (2004): 64-79. Print.

The Ever Changing Tradition of Bharatanatyam, Part 1

2010-11-18T08:31:00.001-05:00

I've spoken about this before: how fifty years ago, the Indian classical dance scene became inextricably linked with India’s fight for independence. How the ensuing nationalistic fervor blossomed into a massive cultural overhaul with Indian classical dance at the forefront. Suddenly, Bharatanatyam** found itself in the middle of a huge reconstructionist and revivalist phase. Indians who had never thought twice about the devadasi establishment were now ardent supporters of the art and it quickly came to be that every well-cultured girl trained extensively in classical dance. Attendance for performances skyrocketed and the new government supported classical dance endeavors wholeheartedly through fiscal support for classes, concerts, and festivals. This drastic rise resulted almost immediately in an overvaluation of the form (*Coorlawala), the results of which are just now rippling through the world.

This issue is this: now, as nationalistic feelings slowly fizzle and fade post the independence movement, so too is the people’s love for the form. Bharatanatyam classes are now slowly being replaced by Bollywood dance lessons, bharatanatyam performances by bhangra competitions, and so on. Yet the number of professional classical dancers are growing: as Anita Ratnam wrote once, the world is “drowning…drowning in a deluge of [Indian classical] dancers” (personal email). The sudden boom and bust bore weighty consequences: the world currently faces a glut of highly trained performers and dancers in both India and the US who look with apprehension towards the ever-decreasing market share for Indian classical dance. With no foreseeable sustainability of the art and without the same nationalistic passion associated with them, traditional artists struggle to maintain their importance and relevancy in this globalizing world.

So exactly how do they do that?

The pressures artists face are polarizing: they must keep audiences interested using fresh innovations while maintaining the image of tradition; they must expand into larger global audiences who have no knowledge of bharatanatyam while still maintaining its complexities. They must satisfy the demands of the Westerner, unknowledgeable about the Indian arts; to the Indian in India, who can no longer find the relevance in classical dance; and the Indian abroad, searching for a tie back to their home: for these are the people who rule the artists’ future and thus, the future of the form.

In order to explain this phenomena, I have broken up the theory as such:

1. Outlining what each kind of audience members expect.
2. How bharatanatyam changes as a tradition.
3. How these audience influences create a change in tradition.
4. What other changes they have created.

Some of these posts will hopefully also be useful on their own!

*Coorlawala, Uttara. "The Sanskritized Body." Dance Research Journal 36/2 (2004): 50-63. Print.
**I never know if I should capitalize bharatanatyam or not...

The Nayika Reversal

2010-11-16T08:42:00.000-05:00

Set to Aankhon Mein Tu Hai by Penn Masala.
Danced by Aishwarya Iyer, Sindhu Sundar, and myself.
Description: In this wonderful twist on the traditional padam, the dancers play men who can't seem to catch the attention of the women they adore.

The concept here was to really utilize the medium of film to explain the story line in a less stylized and more accessible manner. We'll see how that flies.

And, just to give a little credit to my dancers - we had to dance on twigs and stones in the dappled-sunlight tree scenes. Never doing that again.

Enjoy!

Outside my Box

2010-10-20T09:03:00.003-04:00

Who says bharatanatyam dancers cant go outside their sphere?

Directed by Jesse Newman, composed by Elizabeth Claire Burke, featuring Mark O'Connor, and choreographed by me and Ali Schechter!

Enjoy!

Sanskrit Manuals on Dance

2010-10-16T13:48:00.001-04:00

A really interesting read I found online.

The quote they used to grab the reader's attention here is:

"These days, the dancers are stupid, and the scholars are not practicioners." -- Vacanacarya Sudhakalasa

www.iias.nl/iiasn/30/IIASNL30_18.pdf

Non Being

2010-10-14T13:42:00.001-04:00

"na asat AsIt" -- "Non-being was not"
"na sat AsIt" -- "Nor being was then"

A poignant verse from the Rg Veda, and one of the most interesting sanskrit grammatical concepts - the idea of balance. Everything has an opposite. If there is dharma, there is adharma (not dharma). The devas had the asuras, who, from what I recollect about ancient scriptures, were not necessarily evil, just their counterbalance. Sanskrit philosophers understood Newton's third law well: for each action there must be an equal and opposite reaction.

Which brings us full circle: if there is being, there is not being, which is altogether different from lack of existence. Raising the question...what was there before being and the opposite of being (non-being)?

This is probably where the concept of zero also comes from - this philosophy of balance. If there are numbers, what is the non-number?

:)

Adaptations of Epics

2010-10-13T10:27:00.000-04:00

I have recently been enthralled by the modern day rewrites of epics such as the Ramayana, Mahabharata, and the Vedas. After reading The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, a rewrite of the Mahabharata from Draupadi's point of view, I immediately began gobbling up similar books. I moved onto Ka, a retelling of the Rg Veda, which manages to capture the abstraction, philosophy, and beauty of language that is in the original Sanskrit. (Though I haven't read the Rg Veda in Sanskrit, just heard excerpts from professors). Then, I finally began Ashok K. Banker's Ramayana series - a full, 7 series book that reinterprets, adapts, and personalizes the epic.

I was disappointed. Not to say it wasn't a fun, accessible read, but I didn't really think of it as the Ramayana. The author injects his extremely polarizing opinions into the novel to the point where I questioned whether I could think of this as similar to the great epic altogether...more or less, questioning the "essence" of the novel. It made me wonder, is it possible to take a storyline and mould it around your own opinions and thoughts so much that it no longer represents the original epic?

This brings up an important question: can a work have an "essence" to begin with? One that, when changed enough, or in the right manners, makes it a different work altogether?

I thought about why I felt this way specifically when it came to the Ramayana and it was the combination of a few things:

1. The story prose itself was kind of "eh". I am usually not the biggest obsessor when it comes to prose within books. For instance, I love Harry Potter and couldn't give a damn about the writing. In fact, I didn't even notice the construction for the most part. Yet, in this book, it was something I grabbed onto immediately. I wonder if the lack of some sort of ode to the original Sanskrit within the prose nagged at me a little bit.

2. The story itself was altered immensely. I have read, translated, and heard direct translations of many scenes within the Ramayana and the subtlety of right and wrong is pretty huge. However, Banker's series is obvious: Kaikeyi is an evil queen. Manthara is a psychotic, Ravana-loving asura worshipper. Ravana is a terrible demon. Dasaratha, Kausalya, Bharata, Shatrugan, Lakshmana, Rama, are without reproach. Scenes that never happened were inserted into this series. Does that make it bad? No. Each artist must reinterpret as they see fit. But I have never seen an Indian epic so cut and dry when it comes to right and wrong. And to me, this is huge when rewriting manuscripts as these stories were meant to be vehicles for ideas such as dharma and karma.

3. The lack of Sanskrit philosophy. Sanskrit grammar and prose come with enormous philosophical questions - and this book abandoned such intentions of the Ramayana completely.

I suppose this is just a poor adaptation in my opinion. But I must take into consideration that each time the Ramayana was re-written by a major writer (Tulsidas, Kamba, etc) it went through it's own seive. Tulsidas made the epic quite religious, and Kamba removed much of women's original voices. If I had been Valmiki and read the second and third versions I probably would have been aghast as well. So perhaps this is simply along the lines of such alterations.

And definitely a fun book regardless!

Nitin Sawhney

2010-09-29T13:49:00.000-04:00

This artist can definitely be hit or miss sometimes but he is one of my absolute favorites when it comes to inspiration for dance.

This is an album I absolutely love and want to note that it inspired one of the pieces I am currently choreographing: The Rhythm Within -- a piece about relationships, using the idea of the nayika/nayaka.

Aristotle's Poetics -- An analysis by Stephen Halliwell

2010-09-14T13:45:00.002-04:00

On page 37 of this analysis, Halliwell says:

"...It is...the primary purpose of the Poetics to establish a philosophical framework for the understanding of poetry in general, and to do so in a way which entails the statement and advocacy of criteria of poetic excellence. The treatise is in this sense both theoretical and prescriptive. But it has sometimes been believed that it is also prescriptive in a stronger and more pragmatic sense: that it sets out to instruct poets or would-be poets in the methods of composition itself."

I wonder if the Natyashastra and rasa theory as analyzed by Abhinavagupta is somewhat the same. Most historians agree that the Natyashastra was NOT prescriptive but rather described the arts as it was performed when it was written. (Theorized to be 500 BC to 500 AD, if I recollect properly). However, I think it is extremely difficult to analyze such methodology in detail without ultimately becoming also prescriptive.

The Natyashastra nowadays is definitely a prescriptive text. But if you think about it, it is comparable to a book like Aristotle's Poetics. Which allows for more leeway than one would think - it is now a text actually written by someone, who, for all intents and purposes, can't be right about everything. Is there anyone out there who would analyze, and above all, challenge the Natyashastra?

The Language of Puns

2010-09-13T13:24:00.001-04:00

Sanskrit grammarians and poets loovveee to create puns. The creation of a good pun was the height of intelligence along with logical rhetoric.

I'm quite sure that it's no coincidence that punning within dance is a derivation of this. One great example is a particular thillana I came across that employed this meaning to great effect. The raga scale in Indian music, as we know, is made up of Sa, Re, Ga, Ma, Pa, Da, Ne...

Now, these seven basic svaras have also been known as Nishada, Rishaba, Gandhara, Madhyama, Pajja, Daivat and Samjamam in Sanskrit. These svaras were supposedly visualized by the ancient rishis who did research in music in forest universities. They observed the animals and birds around them and ascribed each svara to the tone produced by particular ones.*

Ancient scripts describes the svaras thus:

Shadja: It is based on the cry of peahen. It is called Shadja because it is produced from six places in the body – nose, throat, top of palate, base of palate, lips and teeth. It is sung by Agni (Fire). It has the color of a lotus petal.

Rishabha: It makes a sound like the cow. It has the color of the parrot. The sound strikes against the throat and head. It is uttered by Brahman.

Gandhara: While producing this note, the breath touches the throat and head and eyes from the nose ( hence it is called Gandhara from gandha). It is in the color of gold. It is sung by the moon. It is derived from the bleating of goats.

Madhyama: Resembles the tone of the kraunka bird. It is produced from the chest. Its color is that of the white jasmine. The gandharvas (celestial musicians) level in it. Vishnu sings the madhyama.

Panchama: Sounds like the cuckoo. Its color is black, produced from 5 places in the body – navel, heart, lungs, throat and head, so it is called panchama. Narada the noble one sings the panchama.

Dhaivata: Has the tone of the horse. It is produced in the forehead. It is produced in the fore head. It has a yellow color. Tumburu, the rishi sings Dhaivata.

Nishada: Sounds like the elephant. It gets its power from the sun god. Tumburu sings the Nishada. It is multi colored because it gets tinged by all the other svaras.

Now, this thillana (of a ragam I am unable to recollect), during the charanam, the lyrics were "Nishaba, Rishaba, Gandhara,..." where the pitch of each note corresponded with its namesake. But as a dancer, you had to interpret it as the animal the meaning of the word represented. So for the first note, Nishaba, where the singer is referring to the pitch of the note, the dancer refers to the elephant through her movements.

Just goes to show how all these subjects mesh together to create this incredibly complex, layered works of literature, art, etc.

*I did get this information from a website but can't seem to find it again...

A common mistake

2010-08-24T09:00:00.001-04:00

Have you ever heard the phrase jivamukti? Has someone told you that the meaning of it means release or liberation within your life?

That person is wrong. Yes, jiva means life, and mukti means release...but sanskrit has conjugations that tell you exactly the relationship of "jiva" to "mukti" within such a compound.

"Jiva" is the form of the word life that means "from life". Thus, jivamukti means "liberation from life"...aka...death.

What people really mean when they say jivamukti is "liberation in life", or "jivanmukti"...

It's quite odd to see people running around with the title of their business as "Jivamukti Yoga" or some such when their goal is to clearly allow for attainment of liberation within everyday life...not from it completely :)

Movie I must, must see

2010-08-20T12:09:00.001-04:00

No,it's not Step Up 3-D, though I really should go see that. I'm convinced that 3-D dancing is going to change the dance scene in much the way that CD's changed music.

Sa, Re, Ga, Ma, Pa, Da, Ne...

2010-08-19T10:16:00.000-04:00

The Indian scale and raga system is a great example of endless amounts of variations within a strict set of rules. It has, just like the Western system, 7 basic notes or "swaras" from which you can switch octaves, create flats and sharp notes, etc, but note where it differs:

As defined by Nazir Jairazbho from the ethnomusicology department at UCLA via wikipedia.com, "ragas are separated by scale, line of ascent and descent, transilience, emphasized notes and register, and intonation and ornaments."

This means it matters not only which notes you can use, but the order and stylization with which you use them. For instance, if you have the usual Sa, Re, Ga, Pa, Ne, Sa as the scale upwards, and Sa Ne Pa Ma Re Sa as the scale down, you cannot within a song really "alter" this order or the register of the notes (Eg: You can sing Sa Re Ga, Re Ga Pa, Ga Ga Pa Pa Ne Ne Ne Ne but you can NOT sing Sa Ga Pa, Ga Ne Sa- and the way you slide from one note to another also affects what raga a song is considered to be in.)

Each raga can even connote a mood, a time of day, a season, so on and so forth.

When the monsoon season comes, certain ragas are recommended. When the sun rises, you have yet another. When you are singing a lullaby, it is yet again a different raga.

Now, in my Western music class, as we listened to Bach, Brahms, and Wagner, we'd write papers on why they were able to achieve the effects that they did. "The oboe in the background makes you feel as if you are in a field of sheep. The sharp notes indicate aggression, the minor chord sadness." In Carnatic and Hindustani music, it's the other way around: people came up with these ragas with the effects in mind: we do not need to analyze a song, tempo, style, to understand it's meaning. We simply identify the appropriate raga. We are essentially given the end result of previous research, and told what ragas to use to achieve the particular effects we are looking for. Thousands of years of honing, beginning from the 8 basic "svaras" starting from the earliest Sanskrit slokas became a system with thousands of ragas and millions of categorized and systemized combinations.

When composing, ragas naturally fall into their expected roles. While working with composer Elizabeth Burke on The Rhythm Within, we'd find that the songs she had written - when we tried to add more classical Indian influences - would correspond appropriately with the recommended ragam. A song about change, the mood of fall, musing, ended up being perfect with the raga Kamaj...an early evening raga.

And guess where the complexity and brilliance of ragas come from? The earliest strains of language and the development Sanskrit.

"Sarvam sarvatmakam" I say. Everything is everything.

Mash ups and beautiful sounds

2010-08-14T12:05:00.003-04:00

I love hearing mash ups of eastern and western music. And by mash up, I mean, literally, songs that sound one half English and sound one half Indian...not like the beautiful impenetrable mixes Nitin Sawhney creates. What do you think of this one?

http://www.engendered.org/mtvvideo.html

Can We?

2010-08-13T11:17:00.000-04:00

This has vague ties to my blog but felt it was important to post:

The artist, Malini, makes a really valid point here. This country was built on immigrants. Honestly, what's more American than being from another country? (As oxy-moronic as that sounds).

What's even more interesting is the debate I had with myself about posting this. Does this count as "South Asian performance art"? The only thing reminiscent about South Asia in this song is in the beginning when she proclaims that she's brown. Oh, and her name is Malini.

It just brings to light the borders of identity being erased. I make no judgement on this one way or the other, just that...perhaps in a generation or two, my non-profit for the South Asian performing arts will perhaps be defined more by the arts it propagates than the background and birthplace of its art forms.

You Define Bharatanatyam

2010-08-08T13:47:00.005-04:00

Last week at New York City Indian dance community meeting (http://groups.google.com/group/nycindiandance) we came back with great gusto to an age-old debate.

What can you define as bharatanatyam or Indian classical dance?

(On a side note, I wonder if musicians ever struggle with this identity crisis. I feel it is far more accepted for them to experiment with their instruments than it is for us to go outside our box of technique).

Many, many classical dancers burn with an unmistakable fury towards troupes that claim training in a classical form and do not execute basic steps with any accepted sense of technique. To understand better, imagine if you saw someone who said she was a classically trained ballet dancer but didn't really point her toes.

Multiply that fury by a zillion if they are a popular troupe. Exponentiate that by a bajillion if they are not only popular but also a Bollywood troupe.

But why? As a classical dancer, it's difficult to remain calm in the face of people we believe are misrepresenting the form, often in a way that's neither true to the style (as defined by qualified exponents) nor aesthetically pleasing to watch. It's no small fact that there are hundreds of poorly trained dancers around the world under the impression that they are professional level (and as far as I know, I might fall under this category!) and thousands that think they have some knowledge about the form and can haphazardly add it into any dance piece. Throw that into the mix with a diminishing and uneducated audience and you can understand how much of our community feel that these dancers and artists are to blame for some of our marginalization. A younger version of myself would have written 35,000 posts by now on the unacceptable nature of such antics. However, I now subscribe to the following statement

Rajika Puri made a very valid point in our meeting: it is up to us to define bharatanatyam - or any other classical dance. Really, one of the only things you can do is put your work up, espouse your beliefs, and the people will decide. Each of us puts our own definition of bharatanatyam out there and eventually a consensus is come to.

I think that's part of why dancers get so upset. For every person who has good classical technique in their claim to fame, there are ten who could generally be said to have an unacceptable level of technique. So, just by pure numbers, dancers with fabulous technique get less of an audience. With the greater bulk of people in the world believing that classical dance is best danced by those without technique, and often shunning classical dance due to this, there is a fear that the consensus - and definition of bharatanatyam - will change in a less desirable direction.

I don't believe that the frustration towards this phenomena is not justified or wasted, as it is partly what changes the definition - when educated artists get fired up and passionate about what it is or isn't and share that opinion with others. I do believe that we cannot cut ourselves off from what we do not like within the South Asian arts field or belittle it as the best way to change it is to support each other and accept that people will watch what they like, while also making sure to expose them to as many different works as possible - and then let them decide. Because frankly, troupes lacking technique are popular because people simply don't know much better.

Education, education, education! It's like when you used to like boxed macaroni and cheese or boxed potatoes until you had that truffled mac n cheese and rosemary scalloped potatoes at that French restaurant down the street that's been there forever but for some reason you just never tried. You finally realize what you've been missing! Yes, you'll still eat that boxed food - but your mouth still waters just thinking upon the memory of those perfectly sauced ingredients.

Interesting Ties

2010-08-06T17:19:00.001-04:00

Kathak is the precursor to flamenco.

To be more specific, kathak as it was practiced in the 11th century (when the gypsies are thought to have gone to Spain and created flamenco along the way by grafting other cultural influences) is the precursor to flamenco.

If followed the trail of those gypsies, would we be able to pinpoint the changes in kathak and understand the methodology of changes in tradition better? Would we find specific ruptures or generation to generation fluidity within the modifications? Was it one band of gypsies that popularized it or several who made similar changes across space? Why and how did the guitar come into play? The shoes? The change in costume?

To that end, what of the Mughal era in India where kathak as we note it now came into existence? I wonder if kathak had the same rupture from its past as bharatanatyam did during the British takeover, from changing the form quite significantly to even changing the name...

It would be extremely interesting if someone did a comparative study of the Mughal and British eras to see how these two cultural takeovers affected the art around them. I'm sure you would find some sort of patterning or similarity in the way kathak and bharatanatyam was created. Of course, there are the obvious ways where the government sponsors political art that lauds their system, and art that comes out as a means of protest (Hedayat's book The Blind Owl or much of Picasso's work). But can we expect that the oppressed in the Mughal era were just as conscious of the change and similarly protested against the changes in the traditional aspects of their form each time? In short, did kathak artists also do their best to resist change and as a result stagnate and codify their form for a bit?

Or perhaps, as is my usual M.O., I am overestimating the significance of the changes that occurred.

Death and its effect on tradition and history.

2010-08-04T16:49:00.003-04:00

It is the phenomena of death that creates change. Have you noticed how major changes seem to only happen generation to generation? It is true that older persons are more set in their ways and beliefs, and when the mid-liners of a generation (20's, 30's, etc) start to come into their own, differently opinionated mindset, the changes and acceptances really take place as the children of this generation grow up.

In the same way, traditions really spike and change generation to generation - as the same mid-liners become older, they also become experts of certain subjects or traditions. And with their slightly different mind-set, they are bound to change and innovate (for different reasons from artistic innovation to repugnance of certain bits, etc - it all depends on the person, the time period, what is accepted, etc) within the tradition.

With their expert status, and no older generation to challenge them and stagnate the changes, the younger generation perceives these new introductions as inherently part of the tradition. And so, with death, traditions have the ability to change quite fluidly and without protest. I believe Richard Schechner elaborates upon this phenomena within his book, Between Theater and Anthropology.

Maybe this is something everyone knew already but I had to write down this connection because it brings up the idea that perhaps it's not individual people who change and accept something new but literally the environment you grow up in, making it more a community phenomena.

Did you know?

2010-08-01T06:52:00.000-04:00

The reason that bharatanatyam dancers beat their feet and move up and down the stage for a full 8-10 seconds or so after a jathi (pure dance sequence) was for a few reasons:

1. To move in the procession when they were dancing outside in a parade like setting.

2. To move back to hear the musicians (who, unlike now, where they sit to the left of a dancer on stage, used to stand and play behind them).

Now you know.

The bubble gum of the dance world

2010-07-26T15:52:00.001-04:00

It hit me just the other day, SAT analogy style: So You Think You Can Dance is the bubble gum pop of the dance world just as pop is...well...pop of the music world. There's talent, there's fun choreography, but it's "lightness" as only Milan Kundera can describe it.

The topics are often a plebeian love - relate-able, but also very, very run of the mill, which makes sense, because the songs are so very often top 40 pop hits as well. The length of time: less than it takes to go to the bathroom. The target audience: 16 year olds. Which is why so many scenes end with either a heart wrenched girl or guy being left behind to crumble on the dance floor, Twilight style; or end with a sappy kiss. (Since when did kissing become an interesting dance move? If I wanted that from a show, I'd just watch anything else).

It's hard to read this without feeling like I must harbor anger in my heart towards this show, but this is simply how I think it is. I'm also not ashamed to admit I still listen to Britney Spears just like I'm not ashamed to admit (as I've said before) that I find So You Think You Can Dance enjoyable and sometimes quite clever.

The fact remains either way: I love me my bubble gum pop.

The Obsession with Sita and Sight, Part 4: The Indian Interpretation

2010-07-23T15:24:00.001-04:00

So now we know to a certain extent: why are we Indian artists so obsessed with reinterpreting epics, why women characters, and why especially Sita?

Which brings us to the interpretations themselves. Each interpretation is vastly different from the last.

Nina Paley, the director of Sita Sings the Blues, made a decision in her movie to completely exclude main characters such as Laxman on the basis that “Ram and Laxman were of one mind.”, especially because her interpretation was solely about Rama and Sita’s relationship(9). She went on to telling the viewers that she chose the Valmiki version of events because it best suited her story. In the production of Her Story, however, the KambaRamayana was used because it was written in Tamil on the basis that regardless of which version of the Ramayana was used, the inherent reasoning and theorizing behind the choreography remained the same.

Most importantly, however, is the idea that neither Nina Paley nor I is wrong. Our evidence is based on highly regarded books, our interpretations simply offering different viewpoints of the same story. And there are hundreds more interpretations out there, each as different from the last as mine was from Paley’s.

This kind of proliferation and acceptance of such vastly different theories and tales is something that is the result of what is dubbed as “The Indian Interpretation”(10)

Indians, throughout time, have found license to reinterpret just about everything differently and still claim its legitimacy. From one set of Vedas, there are thousands of interpretations of what is being said in them known as the Upanishads, which to some extent are realized as “corollaries to the Vedas”.(11) From Valmiki’s one Ramayana there have spawned several other rewrites, such as Tulsidas’ Ramachitrakaranas and the KambaRamayana, etc, with at least 6 completely different books in 6 different languages with 6 different stories to tell. One Natyashastra afforded at least 4 different styles of Indian classical dance. In a land with over 200 regional languages, it comes as no surprise that such a phenomenon would occur. Thus, to reinterpret a story is simply to act as a “traditional” Indian would. When a dancer is reinterpreting stories in a 20th century fashion, this may be pointed to as proof for trying to spread a non-traditional idea: on the very foundation of Indian tradition itself.

Interestingly enough, just as we rewrite the stories for our day and age, the people who rewrote Valmiki’s Ramayana also changed the story and storytelling aspects around completely to reflect the attitude of the time. With each rewrite, Ram’s character slowly evolved from man to demi God and Sita became less and less truculent. For instance,

In Valmiki’s Ramayana, when Rama tells Sita he has to go into exile, and she asks him to allow her to go with him, he refuses outright. At first, Sita pleads with him and cries earnest tears, but when Rama remains adamant, she grows angry and rebukes him in shockingly harsh terms. She refers to him as a ‘woman disguised as a man’, says that ‘the world is wrong when they say that there is no one greater than Rama’, calls him ‘depressed and frightened’, ‘an actor playing a role’, and other choice epithets. It is one of the longer scenes in Valmiki’s Ramayana, almost equaling in length the entire narration of Rama’s early childhood years!

Tamil poet Kamban retells this incident in his more compressed, volatile, rich style, reducing Sita’s objections to a couple of brief rebukes: ‘Could it be that the real reason [for Rama not taking her into exile] is that with me left behind, you’ll be free to enjoy yourself in the forest?’

By the time we reach Saint Tulsidas’s recitation, Sita’s rebukes are reduced to a few tearful admonitions and appeals.(12)

So to add yet another layer of intricacy, when a dancer goes back to the original version of Valmiki, showing the strength of Sita in this version (as relayed above), by doing so, the dancer is implying a perversion of the other written versions at the same time, that they are somehow portraying Sita in an inaccurate manner. This becomes a paradox because by choosing one of the versions of the Ramayana as the “right” version there is a denunciation of the ability to interpret the stories in one’s own manner at the same time.

It is with this volatility that Indian Classical dance reflects the very nature of such epics. Indian classical dance remains at the center of arguments over traditionalism and culture and so too does Sita. The argument over the age of Bharatanatyam (50, 200, or 2000 years?) and its traditionalism can be paralleled to Sita herself. Who is Sita? Is she simply the woman from Valmiki’s Ramayana from thousands of years ago or is she a fantasy character evolved over time, no longer reflective of books but of the current female ideals?

And with that, Indian Classical dance has truly proved itself to be ever changing as the ideas it extols.

(9) Sita Sings the Blues. Lecture with Dir. Nina Paley. May 2, 2008.
(10) Dubbed as such by me.
(11) "Vedas." Wikipedia. Apr. 2008 .
(12) Banker, Ashok. "Retelling the Ramayana: Author's Note to the Indian Edition." AshokBanker.Com. 2005. 15 Apr. 2008 .

The Obsession with Sita and Sight, Part 3: The Backlash and Traditional Values

2010-07-20T15:09:00.002-04:00

If you're new to this blog, this is the first of a 4 part series of posts trying to explain why there has been a great deal of performances in the Indian arts community from the female perspective starting from around the 80's.

In the last post, we alluded to the idea that some of it may have been the second wave of feminism. However, the global trend of feminism does not explain why so many of these re-tellings concentrate on Indian epics, especially pinpointing Sita in the Ramayana...

This is something that I believe to be a combination of “the backlash effect” and “traditional values”.

The “backlash effect” is a constant in the world of trend analysis. In every subject, whether it be music, dance, academics, math, or even socially, there is something I shall dub “the backlash effect” – the destruction lurking at the edge of every trend, the implication that its impending doom will result in the opposing idea becoming the new trend. As trends become more popular, the “backlash effect” comes in the form of opposition that becomes stronger and larger until the trend reaches an extreme and the opposition group reacts so vehemently that the trend crumbles and the opposition group becomes the new rising trend. Some come sooner than others (which can be as simple and small as the backlash in fashion over a year or two: in the 1990s high waisted jeans were the fashion and now it is super low waisted jeans) to something much more long and enduring such as the use of women’s bodies to tout Indian morals.

Gasp, what did I just say?

Women have been the subjects of much oppression in India; the rising feminist trend finally allowing for the backlash it was due for. Their subsequent rise in their oppression came during the fight for independence, where the trend became to fight the war over control for women’s’ bodies. People heading the conservative movement, also called the “traditionalist movement” -- opposing the British, and fighting for independence -- actually, in many cases, led the oppression of women.

Eg: The British tried to instate laws banning child marriages, and often spoke of the barbarianism of Indians for allowing things such as sati to happen.(7) Indians reacted by referring to their ancient texts such as the Vedas and the Manu Smriti to find proof that these acts were in fact Indian and banning them was an insult to Indian tradition. Many of these laws were fought over how women were to be dealt with: child marriages were young females to old men; sati was the act of a widowed women throwing herself on a funeral pyre under the pretense of unconditional love for the husband; dowry deaths were along the same line of thinking. And Indians were finding proof in ancient texts proving the essence of such acts to Indian culture. The government would even look to women within ancient Indian texts to use as role models for the country. The most significant figure of the women’s cultural and Indian nationalism movement during the fight for independence was the government’s use of Sita in the Ramayana. Lauded as the perfect wife and female, women were told to act and be like her.

Which leads back to the original question. Why do so many of these reinterpretations deal with the Ramayana?. The reason for this is more than its popularity and lies in an inherent backlash against Sita. Sita, who threw herself into a fire when her husband questioned her purity. Sita, whose image could have been pointed to when a connection was needed to sati. Sita, whose image was pointed to when a woman decided to speak up in order to silence her. Sita, for all she was supposed to be an ideal of women, was in fact an oppressor during the independence movement. How can females of this age not blame her for so much of what happened to them during the independence movement?

Yet, when the backlash effect occurred, it didn’t happen as simply a rejection of Sita. It was a transformation of Sita outright. Just as African Americans in the U.S. changed the word “nigger” from a racial slur to a brotherly term (albeit amongst themselves) women turned Sita from a figure that signified oppression, victimization, and timidity to one that signified power and strength. Yet Sita’s transformation was for different reasons. An outright denunciation of Sita was akin to a denunciation of India and Indian values. The seeds of nationalism had been planted just a few years back and their resultant blooms had not ceased to flourish. Just because there was oppression doesn’t mean women resented the feelings of cultural pride being instilled in them. Nationalism is a pervading power all its own and the oppression of the British was far worse in their minds. So while many disliked Sita, rather than rejecting her outright, they tried to find a way to rationalize her.

This is also reflected in the duality of using Indian Classical Dance as a basis for these reinterpretations. It was, at this point, now considered a high art, the pride and joy of Indian traditions. So using "traditional" classical Indian dance was both a means of keeping the culture in tact while also using the art form to extol very non-traditional ideas. This methodology not only gave their arguments more acceptance, but also an argument technique: dancers were able to utilize the same lyrics, the same books, and the same music the conservative/independence movement used and find a completely opposing meaning to it.

Why was this argument methodology used? Why not just create new characters, or use other mythological stories? Again, the nationalism and pride people have in their own culture is not to be overlooked. The beauty and importance of these books in Indian culture is something I - and many others - have fierce pride in. By using the other side’s evidence in support of our own ideas we are able to both negate what we didn't like about their interpretation of the mythological Indian women and even praise them at the same time while exalting Indian literature, culture and art.

Very clever indeed.

(7) Maju, Daruwal. "Central Sati Act - an Analysis." PUCL. July 1988. Apr. 2008 .

The Obsession with Sita and Sight, Part 2: Global Trends and Feminism

2010-07-17T14:48:00.002-04:00

So, a continuation from the last post: why, since the 1980's, has there been such an explosion of art and literature telling the great epics - in particular, Sita's story - from a feminist point of view?

We explore here the idea that it is due to simply the global trends of the time: the spread of the feminist point of view. All over the world, the idea of the strong female has slowly been coming to the forefront, the trend bubbling over to bursting point since the late 1960s/early1970s with the advent of women’s studies within academic institutions.(3)

It has hit the performance arts particularly hard, with several innovative and influential ideas, foremost amongst them the1975 publication of Laura Mulvey’s article on “the male gaze”,(4) completely catching the world by storm. This, coupled with reinterpretations of Greek mythology by Martha Graham from the female point of view became a platform for others to pursue the same ideas in other works. I feel like the trend has even hit the mainstream, hitting extremes with hyper-feminist artists such as the Pussycat Dolls and shows like “Sex in the City” catching everyone’s attention, portraying their strength as females in the command over their sexuality and dismissal of men. India, with its close ties to the Western world, was, and still is greatly influenced by this rising trend and more specifically by Martha Graham, affecting artists such as Mrinalini Sarabhai and Chandralekha by self admission.(5) And, of course, with much of the second wave of feminism addressing inequalities and sexist stereotypes in performing arts, Indian Classical Dance was one of the first types of forms to take heed. Oddly enough, the trend left Bollywood untouched, its portrayal of females in films continuing to be from an entirely male perspective.

But perhaps this was because Indian classical dance is no longer in the hands of men. The great gurus during the Indian Renaissance, men as they were, passed their knowledge along to women. The global feminist movement that has been taking place since the 70s found their outlet through the now female dominated classical dances of India, with the newly-empowered Sita at the forefront.(6)

The fact that the female dominated dances are the only performing arts form that have taken steps in portraying the feminist point of view is a direct result of being one of the only female dominated profession in India. This trend has not been identified in the Kathakali or Sattriya forms of dance, which are exclusively male classical dances, simply proving the point further. Bollywood also continues to be dominated by men, with its most famous choreographers, directors, and composers all being male. As such, the trend has been lost upon the field, the female body continuing to reflect the male gaze.

And so we gain a little insight into the beginnings of the obsession with sight...but what of the obsession with Sita?

(3) "Feminism." Wikipedia. 15 Apr. 2008 .

(4) Mulvey, Laura. "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema." Screen 16.3 (1975): 6-18.
(5) As mentioned by Prof. Uttara Coorlawala, PhD
(6) From here on in, references to the Indian classical dance forms will be specifically in reference to female dominated forms.

The Obsession with Sita and Sight, Part 1

2010-07-14T14:57:00.002-04:00

I’ve always had a great interest in women and feminism in dance and Indian mythology. But a few years back, two things happened.

1) I took a course called South Asia: Continuity and Change taught by Professor Uttara Coorlawala and read several articles about the "male gaze".
2) I suddenly took note of the a ridiculous amount of performances/artwork obsessed with retelling stories, particularly from a female perspective.*

*(Her Story by Srinidhi Raghavan and Sahasra Sambamoorthi; Stree by Mythili Prakash; Sita Kavya by Krithika Rajagopalan; Shakthi, The Power of Women by Mallika Sarabhai; Sthree by Ragamala Dance Theater; The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni; Sita's Daughters by Mallika Sarabhai; Sita's Story (unverified title) by Chandralekha; Sita Sings the Blues by Nina Paley; Sitayana by Srinivasa Iyengar to name some of the more popular few that I knew of)

What was this artistic obsession with giving women a voice through art? Where was it coming from? The final straw occurred when I saw Sita Sings the Blues at the Tribeca Film Festival. The topic was everywhere I turned, essentially inescapable. And so I became intrigued.

It is a vast amount of subject material I have undertaken and a difficult topic to explain completely, and years of research can only really do justice to it. However, I have attempted to offer an analysis based on the evidence I have found (much of it observational) in the hopes that it might spark later discussions.

As I have pointed out, there is a clear and rising trend of the feminist point of view being touted and extolled by the dance world. This has been particularly true of the Indian community, retelling its ancient lore through the mediums of art and writing, from simple ideas such as removing it from poetry form and into prose to more complex ideas such as telling them from a different perspective.

This global trend has concentrated on much of the same subject matter over the past 20 years, growing in size every year. The greater bulk of them are of the performing arts variety, concentrating on retelling it from a female point of view and furthermore retelling the Ramayana from Sita’s perspective. It all leads to one question:

Why?

Though there are a vast multitude of reasons and probably hundreds of influences; many of them boil down to or are derivatives of four simple ideas. These four reasons I have named as “The Feminist Trend”; “The Backlash Effect”; “The Indian Interpretation”; and “Traditional Values”; are also all connected themselves, intertwined in a way that makes them difficult to separate and explain...

Hopefully you're intrigued enough to check back over the next few weeks as I've attempted to clarify it over a few separate posts...enjoy my fumbling attempts :)

Sitayana: Epic of the earth-born = Sitayanam

Hidden Messages and Plato

2010-07-06T17:28:00.001-04:00

NPR reports on the discovery in Plato's works that shows a passage about music in every 12 lines, indicating, to the researcher, a connection between math and music, science and religion.

Read more about it here.

Coordination and The Over the Top

2010-07-06T14:59:00.001-04:00

So I received my usual Lincoln Center summer concert brochure the other day and was struck by this awesome structure that had musicians sitting one on top of each other in rows and stacked side by side in columns in lit up box structures and was completely fascinated. I immediately had to see this production, "The Manganiyar Seduction".

After my initial excitement, I slowed down. What was so special about this concert? The fact that it was visually stunning? But, theatrically, can a stunt with flashing boxes really elevate this whole experience without substance? My hypothesis is this: that the music is probably great, but not necessarily enhanced by this visual structure. I think the flashing lights will probably drive me insane and I will be forced to conclude that I wish I had heard just the orchestra so I could really immerse myself in the music. I bought a ticket anyway with the scientific purpose of discovering if this would be true for myself or not, and I've been hearing such great reviews that I'm hoping dearly that my instinct is wrong on this one. I will report back later in September with said conclusion.

The same is true for this youtube clip I came across: 1,000 sitars and a great big bunch of tabla players. What was the use for all these sitars? You'd think that if you were going to use that many instruments you'd take a page out of orchestral music and introduce variation and complex instrumentation into the score and make use of their numbers.

Again, I'm forced to wonder if this is "a stunt without style" even though I find it entrancing to watch these hundreds of people in synchronization. It really was incredible to see close ups of the exacting coordination of the sitar players as their hands flew over the fret; playing this song that would sound the same musically if it were played by a six person orchestra using one set of drums, a vocalist, pianist, tabla player, violinist and sitar player.

So the question remains: why does the grand and big hold such wonder and amazement for us? Is rasa and spiritual experience being traded for entertainment in these endeavors or does the entertainment allow for a once in a lifetime experience? Will you remember how the music took you somewhere else after the show or only remember the lights flashing gaudily up at you? I am both incredibly motivated by such creativity and slightly hesitant. I guess this ambivalence remains in all the questions I ask.

Shameless self promotion...

2010-06-28T09:07:00.001-04:00

After months of agonizing and re-editing and searching and stalking of various persons, Jesse and I finally completed Art Is...

And then promptly lost our re visioned copy in a massive hard drive crash. Since I have no idea if the completed version will ever be recovered by this data recovery company, I am putting up our first version of this video. The music too will be available on iTunes soon! Yay!

For those of you who are interested in the process, about a year ago I wrote a poem I entitled "Art Is..." during a time when I was searching for reasons as to why I had fully entered the dance world. I decided to make it a film piece and translate the poem into solo movement and then re-translate it with "subtitles" on the film. And because I felt it was a universal thing for a dancer to struggle with why they dance full time and reason it all out within a studio, I wanted to utilize the film in such a way that it was 3 distinct solos proclaiming the same idea to the world. A few month's later I came across Liz's song, but wanting a more global feel, we asked Arun to join her on the record. Six months later I got the recording. And for two weeks while I was in India last year, I stalked a street artist and filmed him doing his job in front of the Mylapore temple. (I think it was Mylapore). Finally, in January, we filmed the dancers at the Sukha Yoga studio and Madison Square Park and premiered it at Navatman's one year anniversary. So this simple, six minute piece took about a year and a half to complete.

I hope you enjoy it!

Memories

2010-06-28T08:32:00.002-04:00

I just wanted to post this link - a choreography I was a major part of from my college days that still brings a lot of emotion to my being each time I watch it. Just for memory's sake.

Yet Another Clip Showing The Power of Dance

2010-06-23T08:36:00.002-04:00

Whether it was the medicine that cured her or if there was significant physical help from the dance itself is always a point to ponder but what you cannot question is that it was the focus and positivity she brought to herself through dance that gave her emotional stability:

A beautiful, inspiring story that was brought to my eyes by a member of the NYC Dance Community

The "So You Think You Can Dance" Formula

2010-06-10T10:42:00.001-04:00

The most interesting pieces from So You Think You Can Dance - and usually, the most popular - all follow the same piece wise structure, like a pop song does (quiet beginning, add instruments, catchy verse, loud hook and end).

For hip hop:

Beginning: Allude to storyline, usually a guy and girl in love.
Middle: Break out from the introduction of the story/characters with a series of complex movements in synchronization.
Next: Do a series of individual complex movements and/or duet stunts.
End: Resolve the story with some sort of "quip" ending alluding back to the characters here.

For contemporary:

Beginning: Allude to storyline
Middle*: Separate out to do your own thing, then allude back to the story line in a count
Next*: Break out stunts
End: Resolve with no resolution, alluding back to the storyline.

*The two starred steps may intertwine...and this is far less structured than the hip hop pieces, but there's definitely a pattern to it.

Example: (And don't get me wrong, I think this is brilliant anyway):

Stunts are lost without style

2010-06-10T08:32:00.002-04:00

I think I don't need to say much more than that, but you can't appreciate technique and jumps and leaps without connecting to the audience first, and that only comes with style, flow, choreography, and some hook - some reason why the dance matters to the audience.

It's why so much of the choreography in "So You Think You Can Dance" can't hold an audience for more than two minutes and bhangra gets so incredibly repetitive after a singular performance. There are those who would argue that classical dance is equally repetitive but the catch is that the more you know, the more you are intrigued and are able to uncover about the dance. The same is not true for bhangra or these dance TV shows.

That's not to say there aren't great choreographies. I vaguely remember Zee TV's competition a few years back where Phul-orida won with a hip hop battle scene which is why it's stuck in my head for so many years. Much of Mia Micheal's choreography in So You Think You Can Dance is also wonderful because you're caught wondering what's happening, connecting words to movements, making up stories, enjoying the playfulness, and most of all: finding ties back to memories and desires, which I think is so much of what dance does.

Ragamala Dance Theater - at the cusp of change

2010-06-02T16:12:00.002-04:00

I had the privilege of seeing Ragamala Dance Theater perform their show "Sva" in Washington, D.C. in the fall of 2008.

I left with mixed feelings.

While I found the choreography quite interesting and the Taiko drummer collaboration an unexpected meld, the execution confused me. These dancers were extreme in their movements: there was no subtlety within their limbs. Extensions became rigid hyper-extensions, eyebrow raises meant to show compassion or karuna became rapid up-down movements. At first I was aghast, off put by their supposed lack of technical skill and then, I started to wonder...

In bharatanatyam subtlety and grace/laya is usually considered the mark of a mature dancer. This was discarded - on purpose - by Ragamala. I wonder two things about this conscious (yes, it is conscious, I was informed by one of their dancers) decision -- one, if their intention of removing this aspect also removes it from the realm of bharatanatyam; and two, if the super forceful nature of their dancing is a wise choice in dancing the form. It's a question that questions what the "essence" of bharatanatyam really is. What makes their dancing belong under the bharatanatyam umbrella, what makes bharatanatyam beautiful?

The problem stemmed from their use of traditional pieces with full intention of achieving a performance experience that duplicated more traditional dance aesthetics (such as starting with a kauthuvam) that made the viewer question the execution. I didn't enter the theater thinking I was going to be watching different and significant stylizations of a traditional piece...so their rendition just didn't sit well. But if I had come in not knowing what bharatanatyam was, or knowing that they were changing aspects of it for aesthetic purpose, I might have had a completely different take on the evening. So the intention - of the troupe and the audience member - mean so much in this context.

So the question transforms yet again: at what point does changing valued aspects of it: form, structure, lexicon, and execution - differentiate between expanding boundaries and the creation of something new altogether? If the performer doesn't acknowledge the change they have created should I judge the dancer on what I expect to see, based on the expectations she herself has created through her visual look and her dance description?

It is clear that intention - and carefully relaying that intention to the audience member - has a great deal of meaning in South Asian performance. I actually think that intention is key in any rasa experience - it's like asking for tiramisu at a restaurant and receiving raspberry lady fingers and orange marmalade on top of a marscapone mouse. Yes, the second sounds delicious - but tiramisu is so well known that had I not known of the variations to the dish before I ordered I probably would have been upset receiving it. Not only that, but if you took the marscapone and made it a ricotta mouse, it becomes a deconstructed cheesecake.

At some point you can't imagine having tiramisu without raspberries, and at another point it's just become cheesecake. So where is Ragamala in all of this? Tiramisu with some bells and whistles (so still bharatanatyam) or cheesecake (postnatyam?). Or have they left the dessert genre altogether? :)

Interesting how food can make a three paragraph delve into the highly interpretable much more clear in a matter of three sentences, eh?

Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

2010-05-28T11:33:00.001-04:00

"The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground... The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.

Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.

What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?"

~Milan Kundera

Doesn't performance do both? The emotions one goes through while performing are most certainly burdens - you are taking the deepest depths of your being, of perhaps your impression of other people's beings and try to communicate them by dredging them up again through movement, song, whatever it might be. But the act of performance itself, if you talk to any performer...allows us to feel extreme lightness/elevation/deep spirituality only by depicting and emoting and feeling these burdens. Odd, isn't it?

The Wall Street Journal has recognized Mr. Chatterjee's efforts!

2010-05-20T16:15:00.001-04:00

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704133804575198792329180312.html?mod=WSJ_LifeStyle_Lifestyle_5

Shut Up and Dance? Really?

2010-05-12T10:41:00.000-04:00

I read a quote somewhere that was attributed to Samuel Beckett: “Dance first, think later.” I do not know if he really suggested that sequence. But I wonder if it works that way all the time. He might even have used “dance” in the sense of celebration, revelry, letting go. But dance as art practice, even as it has all of these, is hardly just that. It may not be truly possible to separate dance and thought into two neat, separate boxes. Thoughts can dance their way into our heads sometimes; thoughts can impede movement at times.

So we may not be able to put aside thought for later after all. Specialized thought, particularly academic and intellectual discourse, may have huge impacts on an activity like dancing. It could freeze you momentarily; lurk around the corner you are about to turn and cast a petrifying charm on you.

   Despite these seemingly discouraging effects, theorizing is an exciting process for me; as much as dancing is. A commitment to theorizing essentially means allowing self-reflexive ruptures into practices - having small and big explosions of insights into one’s performance of, adherence to, and association with social, political, cultural and economic practices (this is the unpacking of the term self-reflexive. Let us use the terms even as we unpack them). Some of these ruptures could take the form of epiphanies that change the course of a person’s life and practice of art into brilliant directions at once. Some might find theory and politics immediately empowering. For many others, an engagement with theory could sharpen the edge of self-reflexivity and drive it as a wedge between the self and its practices, the body and its performance, the individual and her/his self-narrative. Here’s my experience!
   I started learning Bharata Natyam when I was 6 years old, on the Vijayadasami day of the year 1988 in my hometown, Kumbakonam. Initially, it was just plain, unadulterated joy to be dancing; the kind of unreflective joy that is a prerogative of childhood – the kind of exercise where you hear a huge “YES” in your head every time you think about it. Kumbakonam has a strong presence in Hindu mythology and south Indian history as a pilgrim site and a business centre for the Cholas. The Iyengar¹community I come from also has an embedded history in this space. My family could demonstrate, with great ease, its link to the town and its temples for several generations, notwithstanding the fact that a few generations before us had not lived there. Therefore, there was an easy coherence to my childhood self-narrative - the way I thought of and spoke about myself - dancing included.
   However, such innocence was not to last. Dance became a zone rife with questions of self-identity during and after adolescence, because of the gender inflections it began to receive. It was an issue for the boys in the classroom and hence became an issue for me. As an activist now, I may reclaim “sissy” and wear it on a pink badge, but the intensity of such reclamations usually says a lot about the strength of the wounds. Despite these issues, there never was an impasse, or a deliberation of quitting dance. In fact, the same dance that made life as a boy complex and rife with everyday negotiations of power in school also became a therapeutic space. But dance, I started realizing, was going to be a difficult space. It was not going to be the romantic forget-your-worries-and-dance kind of a space. This was because dancing was singling me out from the boys of my age. This alienation and the anxieties it provoked were to last into adulthood.
   Much later, something else, that initially appeared innocuous, made dancing - dancing Bharata Natyam specifically - very hard for me. It was the exposure to scholarship that historicized and theorized Bharata Natyam²that dealt the major blow to my emotional affinities to it that I refused to scrutinize. But it was not the revisionist understanding, per se, of Bharata Natyam that was difficult for me to deal with. That Bharata Natyam was not an ancient art form but was one constituted by ruptures with tradition was, in itself, not a disconcerting fact. But the fact that these ruptures were located within the politics of caste, nationalism, gender, sexuality and religion was the specific locus of quiet but disabling anxiety for me. For almost all of these categories already had a not-taken-for-granted aspect in my life: a brahmin boy from Kumbakonam, with parents who had strong anti-brahminical and anti-casteist personalities, a boy who was beginning to understand that he desired boys, a boy who has been called "sissy" in three different languages, a Hindu boy with strong misgivings about religion.
   One result of all this exposure was a deeper and defamiliarized look at different aspects of Bharata Natyam. For instance, the nauseating claims to spirituality that were being made (I quite literally grew up among these voices) were making "spirituality" itself a term and domain in need of active reclaiming. If I am now a spiritual person and a Bharata Natyam performer, it is also true that I am a sexual person and a Bharata Natyam performer. In fact, my sexuality is more in the public domain, as a visible problematic, than my spirituality. Also, once I could clearly see the strong hetero-patriarchy permeating the texts and practice of Bharata Natyam, it became an absolute necessity for me to see what subject space I could claim within it. I needed to know if I could be feminist and queer and still find a location within Bharata Natyam to “speak” from, without feeling compromised. I also needed to know if I could find a way to happily marry off aesthetics and politics in a relationship that constantly sustained the tension between them, without attempting, naively, to "resolve" it.
   Adrienne Rich, American poet, talks somewhere about the importance of announcing one's subject position; to be aware of and make clear where one speaks from. My dilemma has been in recognizing my subject position with all its limitations and simultaneous centralities and marginalites – caste, class, gender, sexuality, etc. Announcing/ declaring it is a simultaneous concern. I will not sequentialize them. I don't think the (re)cognition and announcing of one's subject position are sequential acts. Most of the times, I have known my own positions only in the stating of them.
   Modern scholarships on Bharata Natyam, history, casteism and politics have made access to a lot of things suddenly very mediated and anxiety-ridden for me. They have made me see the complex links between identity and performance, both as everyday modes of being in the world as well as specialized and staged performance. And that I think is quite excellent. As a gendered and sexualized subject with a caste and class identity in modern India, I see that Bharata Natyam is not just dance for me. It is a practice I engage in, that is at once crisscrossed by several histories; histories that have also written themselves over my body. These are histories not just of community, art and excellence. They are also, very significantly, histories of gender and caste oppression, notions of masculinity and sexuality, even the history of the idea of the Nation.
   Theorizing my relationship with Bharata Natyam, hence, amounts to theorizing myself from a few perspectives. It is an instance of acquired knowledge playing upon one's notion of the given. It offers new ways of re-imagining oneself. But it has taken sometime to be able to attenuate the edges of my anxiety with the understanding that I can re-fashion and re-imagine my selfhood; that the seemingly innocent prefix "re-" powerfully questions the givenness of the givens themselves. Until learning to live in and appreciate liminal zones and interstitial crevices, until learning to willingly make myself vulnerable (for I now think that a true way for me to relate to another is by dis-covering my vulnerabilities), I felt both dancing and speech had been made difficult for me. I thought every movement I executed and every utterance I made were screaming my location to the world - what I saw as the incongruity in being a Bharata Natyam dancer/ Brahmin boy and an anti-hetero-patriarchal, same-sex loving self, social worker, activist, etc. But to this day I find myself ‘doing’ Bharata Natyam, attempting to find new ways to sing my own songs, dance my own dance, as it were. I am thankful for the existence of these etceteras; they allow me new and unknown possibilities of being.

Notes
(1)People of the Brahmin Vaishnava (worshippers of Vishnu) community in this part of the country are called Iyengars. The priestly caste in the Tamil region have Iyers and Iyengars as broad sub-groups, with several sub-communities under each, with various levels of interior hierarchization.

²Bharata Natyam has a history of discontinuity from that of Sadir, the dance form performed by devadasis and rajadasis in the temples and courts of south India until the early decades of the twentieth century. This history is located in the politically charged space of colonial reformist movement that sought to end dancing in temples and the dedication of women to temples. This culminated in the passing of the Devadasi Bill in the Madras Legislative Council, spearheaded by Dr Muthulakshmi Reddy. The revival of Sadir as Bharata Natyam is attributed to people like Rukmini Devi Arundale and E Krishna Iyer and to institutions like the Madras Music Academy. For more on this, see Srinivasan, Amrit. 1985. ‘Reform and Revival: The Devadasi and her Dance’. Economic and Political Weekly, 20: 1869-76

A small chat with Ania Loomba, Ustad Amjad Ali Khan, Shankar Mahadevan, Unnikrishnan, Priyadarsini Govind, and Namit Malhotra: Wharton Economic Conference part 2

2010-05-11T12:26:00.000-04:00

So now that I've told you of the gist of this conference, I would like to tell you more about the panel itself, or at least my observations of it. It all stems around the question I asked to the panel in general:

"We all accept that tradition has an ever changing value system. But what I would like to know is, of the tradition you see changing before your eyes, is there anything in particular you would warn us of losing, any aspect that you see dying that you'd prefer to preserve or aspects that you are excited to see go?"

The question was not answered properly, and I received some fairly generic answers in return, more or less hearing that change would always happen and not to worry if it did. For instance, Unnikrishnan brought to light the point that the violin, an undeniable force of nature in Indian classical music, was only added to the genre in the 18th century or so. However, this was a change that was an addition, and not a removal - all was gained and nothing was lost! So I think there was some confusion as to my question as well.

What was far more interesting though was what I gleaned from listening to this panel and speaking to Ms. Govind a bit more afterwards:

Artists (and perhaps I am iterating the obvious) who have made art completely financially viable for themselves with no issues - do not seem to worry about their form at all. Example number two: in a later conversation with only Priyadarsini I mentioned how dancers use abhinaya less and less these days and there was no worry. There was also most certainly a vehement "no" when I asked if she was concerned about gradual diminishing of abhinaya in the classical arts today or if she thought there was a
diminished nature at all. To summarize, her point was: Change will happen as it does and nothing serious will be lost.

Yet, many, many artists - including Kalanidhi Kuchipudi and Nrityagram - have admitted to leaving out abhinaya pieces or doing less of them as "Westerners do not understand them". Further, an enormous number of the lesser known artists I have spoken to wonders at some level what is being lost or question the changes that are happening around them.

I wouldn't say that financial success makes an artist complacent, and I definitely don't claim a right or wrong view here, but the evidence seems to show that if you are making money off your art, you are less likely to question the change that is happening in the world around you....

I do realize this wasn't the most in depth analysis (er...really? People who make different amounts of money off their profession think differently about it??) but hey! it had to be noted.

An Aural Bandage: Reviving Music in Afghanistan

2010-05-04T10:31:00.000-04:00

BY HIMALI SINGH SOIN

Perhaps it is that one cannot attribute any absolute meaning to it, or that its vibrations awaken within us senses that are otherwise dormant, but music has, for centuries, united communities, expressed woes, retold history, sparked great social movements and more intimately, restored our own inner balance. “Religion and music are the main anchors of any society. You take either away, and you get chaos,” says Samir Chatterjee, a teacher of Indian Music in New York. Pandit Chatterjee has been working passionately to revive musical traditions in Afghanistan–a nation wounded by decades of conquest–after the Taliban banned all art in 1996.

Most musicians fled to Pakistan while others found in possession of musical instruments were imprisoned or put to death; their instruments buried. Contrary to the Sufi belief that music is a link to God, the Taliban interpreted music as the language of god, and therefore impermissible to humans. Their threat reverberated in the stark desert landscape: “those hands that played music will become devil’s hands.” As a result, there was a rapid decline both in musical masters as well as skilled students to carry forward this complex art form. The spirit of the nation deadened as its silent streets gave way to sounds of artillery, gunshots and bombs when it was invaded by the US in 2001. Humayun Sakhi, master of the rubab, (a triple-stringed, double chambered lute and the national instrument of Afghanistan), says, “To make music, you need silence, which didn’t exist anymore”.

After waiting four years for the government of Afghanistan to sponsor him with no avail, Pandit Chatterjee realized that time was running out. Assembling his own resources, he embarked there himself. There, “[he] witnessed people struggling. They knew what they needed, but didn’t know how to get it.” With the support of the Ministry of Education of Afghanistan (which has taken significant steps in revitalizing music), Pandit Chatterjee formed an organization called Chhandayan, which aims to restore musical traditions by collecting instruments, books and recorded music and re-introducing them into school and university curriculums. Chhandayan will also adopt musically inclined orphans to enroll in the conservatory that they plan to inaugurate on the 21^st of March, for up to 1500 students. “This will also prevent them from joining the Taliban,” Chatterjee says, “If you don’t care about them, they rebel and the result is violence, the opposite of music.” This past December, he performed with two musicians, Shirin Agha on the rubab and Fateh Ali on vocals at the studio of the National Television of Afghanistan. Shirin has studied under Ustad Urfan, Director of Program, RTA and Fateh Ali was initiated under a local teacher after which he has been studying under Ustad Fateh Ali Khan of Pakistan and Ud. Rasid Khan of India. "Our efforts are to bring their own music back to them so that they don't have to travel abroad, on the contrary they will soon be in a position to accommodate outsiders interested in their music".

Afghani music is characterized mostly by ghazals, Persian poetry sung above a variety of instruments, primarily the rubab and harmonium rhythmically accompanied by tabla or dhol. It is filled with mood: it is emotional and reflective of the nation’s sorrows and triumphs. Chhandayan aims to foster “spiritual hearing”, and in its earnest goals, has received generous donations from individuals in the United States and India. A few have been especially motivated after observing President Obama’s trajectory: political hope lends itself to artistic upheavals. “No one can live without music, not even the Taliban,” says Pandit Chatterjee, “art is a reflection of society.” It is when we stop creating art that we know that the human kingdom has met its end.

Ghazal:
A ghazal is a form of poetry that originated in pre-Islamic Arabic verse around the 10^th century. Several Indo-Persian poets utilized the structure of a ghazal in their writing, amongst whom, the poet, Ghalib and Gulzar are masters. It consists of five to twelve rhyming couplets and a refrain. Sans enjambment, the ghazal is a lyrical and lucid poetic medium that traveled throughout Asia due to richness of its content and the brevity of its form. Though each line must have the same meter, the ghazal progresses from expressing a deep sorrow over a loss of a divine or earthly love and transforms into finding the beauty in pain, the beauty finally resting in the act of singing the song itself.

Wharton's South Asia Economic Conference

2010-04-28T14:20:00.000-04:00

I bet you are all wondering, "What's a South Asia Economic Conference post doing on this blog?"

Frankly I'm proud that someone out there in business is acknowledging the arts as a vital part of the economy. Well, yes, the Obamas do it but many other intelligent people - including John McCain (and his whack idea of balancing the budget by eliminating arts funding) - do not. Setting aside the spiritual connection many have with the arts, and the thus absurd parallel that we fund religion plenty, but not art, we also happen to spend the least on art though we make the most money in the world.

It makes you wonder, what is the US's deal?

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, the arts are significantly undervalued within this society. Maybe because much of it has split from ritual and importance within our lives. But come on, USA! Let's be real. If there were no Broadway plays, museums, dance programs, symphonies, etc, etc in New York City...no one would come. Restaurants make money from being around cultural activities. There are only so many bar crawls you can go to. And getting drunk pre or post an event is also only a side highlight of GOING TO A SHOW. Benefits, galas, auctions...99% of these involve art in some way as part of their event. And, here's some food for thought:

Why is ambiance so important to a restaurant's success? And how food looks on your plate? That's right, folks: art plays an important role even at the places you eat!

So put a fork in it, those of you who would complain about government support for the arts. We only need to do that because you are so stingy with your dollars of charity.

Clearly I've digressed from a post about the performance panel at the Wharton conference this year. But the next one...or one sometime soon - will deal with the panel itself.

Getting sidetracked is all part of the academic process!

The importance of context

2010-04-26T15:38:00.000-04:00

In translation of language, context is of the utmost importance. Actually, in most things context cannot be ignored - we see it everyday in the media how a simple phrase taken out of context within a speech can vilify an innocent person.

However, in history and language, entire phrases of importance - ones which mean the world to certain people (for instance, important phrases in the Bible or Bhagavad Gita) have and continue to be misinterpreted due to a lack of contextualization.

Oftentimes, we just accept the misinterpretation even though it may seem nonsensical or not particularly clever instead of perhaps questioning and probing past the surface. To this end, I provide you with an example. The following phrase was said by Jesus, and is quoted from Wikipedia:

"The eye of a needle" is part of a phrase said by Jesus by the synoptic gospels:

...I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

The saying was a response to a young rich man who had asked Jesus what he needed to do in order to inherit eternal life. Jesus replied that he should keep the commandments, to which the man stated he had done. Jesus responded, "If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." The young man became sad and was unwilling to do this. Jesus then spoke this response, leaving his disciples astonished.

Now, for a long time this was how this phrase was translated. Then, someone named Lachman (I think! Don't quote me on the spelling!) came along and said "no no no, this can't be right. It makes no sense that Jesus would say something like this" and hypothesized that the word camel is extremely close visually and phonetically to the word rope, making the new translation it is easier for a rope to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God".

All because of scribal error! But this still doesn't quite make a lot of sense...

So finally due to some other people and new research someone realized that around Jesus' time there was a gate or narrow pathway which had a name called "eye of a needle" through which leading a camel through would have been difficult and unwieldy...now the correlation makes much more sense. It's much more subtle and meaningful than the original interpretation, and wasn't a simple scribal error that passed down through time...it was a matter of context and giving Jesus and ourselves more credit.

So simply knowing that Jesus existed during this time and place makes a tremendous difference in the actual interpretation of the phrase. Alas, context has taken us new and profound places...as well as knowing the name of this gate/pathway...and of course not taking everything an academic says as immediately correct! Especially when it doesn't make much sense!

Just to be clear, this lesson was imparted to me earlier today by Prof. Som Dev Vasudeva. Thanks professor! And, for a dose of humor: one of my favorite comedy books:

Uttara Coorlawala's "It matters for whom you dance"

2010-04-22T13:52:00.000-04:00

The first NYC dance community meeting in 2010 brought a lot of interesting questions, stories, and thoughts. One in particular stood out in my head: Professor Coorlawala's answer to Sridhar Shanmugan upon being asked this question:

Sridharji asked Professor, "Uttara, there was this one moment in this dance you did where you'd throw three flowers and they'd land in a straight line. No matter where you performed it, for what audience, or what knowledge base, in that moment the audience would be brought to tears. How did you do that, or what was it that brought that about?" (I admit, this quote is not exact, but carries the gist of what he asked):

And Uttara looked steadily around at each one of us, smiling and said, "Do you want to know what my secret is?" The intensity of her question brought a round of enthusiastic encouragement. Quietly, slowly, deliberately, and with her calm manner she continued gazing at all of us and said, "It was because every time, in that moment, I would be dancing for my guru. It was always for him."

The clarity with which she spoke, the raw passion within her voice - the room was silenced and everyone stared at her, a few with tears dotted within their eyes. I could only imagine what power the performance itself actually had if verbally she could capture us so.

I assume that this was what spawned her to write “It Matters For Whom You Dance: Reception in Rasa Theory” on the aspect of audience participation in Abhinavagupta's rasa theory. I've included an excerpt below that I find outlines or abstracts the article, and this idea, particularly well: (The republication of this article is in Dance Matters, Performing India Edited by Pallabi Chakravorty and Nilanjana Gupta, Routledge 2010 pp117-139.)

"...Performing the same solo concert in major Indian cities and for not-so-metropolitan audiences taught me that performance is an ongoing dialogue between performer and audience.

Audience members indicated their preferences by the way that they attended to the event, drawing closer, becoming restive, still, or discussing the dance even as it was occurring. Some audiences gave love and support, others drained energy into a consuming black hole. Some bore witness to an inner journey adding their intensity and experience into the mix of my body memories. Others withdrew in resistance.

Finally, in the early eighties, I had the great joy of performing on three separate occasions for the rasikā (ideal spectator) of my innermost desires, my spiritual guru Swami Muktananda Paramahamsa or “Baba.” As I continued to travel and perform internationally, I realized that my ideal spectator had transformed my awareness of performance; that each performance subtly and profoundly clarified and intensified my awareness of audiences and of dancing. In seeking to understand more on this mysterious and wonderful dialogue between performer-audience, I found it exemplified in live performances, in stories about performers and most profoundly in the theoretical expositions of bhāva and in the ways that dances can be deliberately structured so as to ensure that viewers remain active and alert...

The Ideal Spectator or Rasikā:
In Indian dance, the performer-audience relationship has historically been considered crucial in determining the quality of performances. If a performance is to be deemed successful, there must be rasa. But it is not the performer's responsibility to evoke rasa. The performer's role is to represent the prescribed emotional moods or bhāva with sustained clear focus. Sattva, or the luminous communicative energy (presence serves as a partial synonym) that results from the performer’s bodily activities and mental focus becomes flavoured, as it were, with the 3 appropriate emotions - bhāva. The sympathetic (sa-hridaya) but critically discerning viewer (rasikā) apprehends this emotion not as a cathartic experience, but as rasa (NātyaŚastra, Chapter 27, verses 49-58 hereafter written as NS 27, 49-58). “Rasa” literally translates as that which is tasted, relished. Rasa is a reflective experience of tasting, rather than of devouring or being devoured by emotions. Rasa involves seeing with an inner eye, hearing resonances, and touching inner spaces. Until the poem is read, it has no existence. Unless the spatial aesthetic and symbolic characteristics of a sculpture are apprehended, it is no more than inert stone. An image of a deity in the temple, a moorti, remains just another icon, until the worshipper is transformed in its presence. Without at least one viewer to taste, (even when that viewer is The Unseen Witness) there cannot be a performance.

This leisurely inner savoring of a performance or a work of art is not only a mental practice assiduously cultivated by those educated in traditional Indian arts and literary forms. The intensity of this experience of rasa is the measure by which success is evaluated. Rasa may involve a spontaneous experience of insight (pratyaksha). Very often, a performer in Indian dance will attribute a spontaneous flash of creative improvisation to the presence of rasikā(s). Accomplished and master performers build audience dialogue into their presentations:

After performing a few items Birju Maharaj said he was very uncomfortable and requested that the overhead nontheatrical lighting be turned on, so that he could see the faces of the audience. He spoke in English (which he rarely speaks) for his invited guests who were unfamiliar with Kathak. Once the lights were turned on, he appeared to be more at ease, structuring his presentation according to the responses of the audience and playing off their moods. At the end of the performance, when he was being showered with applause he said in wonder, that it was the heart of the audience that had inspired him, that he had found himself performing with insights and subtleties that surprised him; he did not know from where they came, but that it had to do with ‘the heart of the audience.’ He said that the rasa of this performance would surely remain with him for a week. And the reverse unfortunately holds true too. At one of Balasaraswati's appearances at the Jacob's Pillow theatre, she is said to have cut short her performance. When asked about this she is said to have felt that the audience had been insensitive to her art. However, she declared that she would not be averse to performing for the students and faculty on that same evening after the paying public went home. Apparently she did just that and held them enthralled. So goes this story told by Ted Shawn in one of his ‘curtain speeches’ to educate American dancegoers to performer-audience conventions of other cultures."

Sports as Performative Art

2010-04-10T11:10:00.000-04:00

Yes, I said it. Do I think it's true? Maybe. Do I think it is a point worth pondering? Definitely.

The literature I've come across has mentioned the idea a few times (mostly referred to by Richard Schechner) but I have yet to see a meaty analysis of the subject so wanted to try something preliminary myself.

Either way he makes a good point - sports can be argued to be a type of performative art. It captures one of the essential ingredients to art: that of a transformation of self and the accompanied visceral, inexplicable reaction to what one sees on the "stage" (field). It follows a set of codified improvisational rules that must be strictly followed and trained extensively within to execute to the best of their ability. If I had to put a name on it, I'd even say it was contact improvisation. The crowd affects the play of the game: if the crowd is disinterested, so too become the players; just as a captivated audience can cause a different kind of energy and take a performance to another level.

Of the same token, the more interested and more of themselves the players give to the game, so too does the audience. A symbiotic relationship of sorts.

However it is also not art: competition within art diminishes the performance. I mean to say a ballet competition will never really be viewed as art, perhaps because the mentality of the viewer is not focused on experiencing the work but rather picking out the technicalities within it. The experience is also extremely temporary when you watch sports - you may feel euphoric highs, but it's often gone by the next game. I'm not sure about the rest of you, but I've never had an art piece affect me deeply and then forgotten about it. It sticks with you.

As a disclaimer, I also don't know if my assumptions as to their temporary nature are completely true for sports, as I've never experienced it. Furthermore, not every work of art is going to make an imprint, just like not every game can do that as well.

What it does lack is the catharsis effect that's referred to by almost anyone who's written about aesthetics. When you go watch a play or a movie you may empathize with the characters, even cry with them - but afterwards you are refreshed, purged, and transformed. When a team loses, that same euphoric high the winning team has is matched by true sadness from the losing team and spectators. That frustration and loss sits with some people for days. This is probably my main issue with calling sports performative ART. It is performative something...but art...perhaps not.

I'm sure there are more reasons for and against but I'd really love to see someone attack it from an aesthetic point of view - psychologists have had their turn with the game and have spewed endless amounts on the mob mentality of it all...but I haven't seen much about the performers themselves. Billions of people daily hold their breath as 1-20 players of every kind of sport imaginable perform for them, their every move enticing and moving emotions, affecting their moods and their days to come. There is just way more to it than the crowd alone!

Rajika Puri's masters thesis introduction

2010-03-22T13:23:00.001-04:00

Provided by the lovely woman herself:

[A Structural Analysis of Meaning in Movement: the hand gestures of Indian dance (NYU, 1983)]

Rasa (‘flavor’) and Bhava (‘mood’)

One of the basic concepts that has preoccupied all writers on Indian theatre and dance since the third century is the theory of rasa (glossed as ‘taste’, or ‘flavor’) which is at the root of Indian aesthetics, providing an underlying unity to all classical mediums of expression. The theory is difficult to articulate, for all discussions of it are based on complex metaphysical concepts.

The theory of rasa, as conceived by the Hindu aesthetician and as practiced by the artist, has two aspects. the first is the evoked state (rasavastha) in which transcendental bliss is experienced; the second is the sentiments, the moods, the permanent and transitory states, which were the object of presentation. the second provided the content of art; the first was its ultimate objective . . . . The technique of the arts was directly conditioned by these principles, and the techniques of the Indian arts are the rules through which these rasa states can be evoked [Vatsyayan 1968: 6]*.

Interpretation of this theory is a constant theme that recurs in every treatise on Indian art forms whether music, architecture, painting, sculpture, poetry or drama. It differs slightly for each medium of expression. Discussion of the first aspect ('evoked state') mentioned in the passage above involves inquiries into the very nature of aesthetic experience. The second aspect (sentiments, moods) bears directly on the forms and presen-tations of what are known as the ‘transitory’ and ‘permanent’ states, in the various mediums which have been the foci of writers on dramaturgy since the sage, Bharata’s writings.[i] Even if one can only present a glimpse of the concept of rasa in the available space of this essay, it cannot be ignored since it is essential to the concepts of natya and nrtya.

Fundamental to the idea of rasa is the notion of transforming nature into art [Coomaraswamy 1934]** which may be demonstrated with reference to thenavarasa (nine rasas) as codified in Indian dramaturgy. As Vatsyayan says, “Significantly, the one point on which all the commentators agreed was the in trinsic difference between aesthetic emotion and emotion in real life” [1968: 7].

The Indian actor-dancer evokes rasa through the presentation of one of nine complementary bhavas (‘moods’ or ‘states’) that have their basis in nine emotions, i.e. love (srngara), valour (vira), wonder (adbhuta), compassion or grief (karuna), laughter (hasya), fear (bhayanaka), aversion or revulsion (vibhatsa), rage or wrath (raudra) and tranquility (santa), which are considered to be several steps removed from the passions or natural feelings. With the use of gesture, the dancer repre sents situations that lead the spectator to enter into the bhava (mood) that accom panies contemplation of these emotions.

Performers present these emotions transformed into sentiments that are removed from the subjective and personal realms of experience by referring to those episodes from stories about the lives of divinities which best evoke these sentiments. He or she is expected to engender an intellectual apprehension of the idea of the heroic, the marvelous, the compassionate, the erotic, and so forth. The route to understanding these concepts is through reference to the senses and the emotions, but final understanding is at a level freed from sensory awareness and as far from nature as possible.

The actor or dancer conveys through movement the bhavas evoked by the music. He or she brings forth the meaning of the words and the melody by using conventional movements of the eyes, eye-brows, cheeks, neck, hands, limbs, torso, legs and feet -- indeed, every part of the body.[ii] The ultimate aim of the actor or dancer, however, is not simply to “please the eye” or to “tell a story,” although these are intermediate goals. The true purpose is to engender in the spectator an apprehension of rasa. The ability to apprehend rasa is eventually dpenedent on the spectator’s own capacityfor understanding.

The ideal spectator is the rasika (the ‘taster of rasa’) who is familiar with the conventions not only of drama and music, but of sculpture and painting. It is also assumed that the rasika understands Hindu philosophy and is conversant with the mythology and literature of India.

The Rasika and the Ordinary Spectator

From the many treatises on art, music and drama, one is led to believe that the ideal rasika must be as carefully trained and disciplined as the artist [Vatsyayan 1968: 3] and that nrtya and natya are on the whole, esoteric -- inacces sible to the ordinary spectator. Many scholars insist that properly to appreciate an idiom of dancing, one must know the significance of each gesture, the many associations of each word in the sahitya, and, they say it is also necessary to be able to identify each raga and tala.

While it is true that the more one knows, the more levels there are at which one can appreciate and enjoy a dance recital, a major part of the knowledge expected of the ordinary spectator is not that complicated. The requirement is common cultural knowledge.

The rasika is distinguished as the person who possesses scholarly knowledge: the person who has studied the sastras (the treatises and sacred books), and can comment on various aspects of a medium of expression with the use of a highly technical language. While this level of understanding is definitely specialized, there are aspects of what he or she knows which can be acquired informally simply through being exposed as one grows up to many cultural performances, including dances, religious rituals, dramas, and such. Cultural knowledge, then, is first acquired in the same way as one learns one’s native language. Only after wards does a rasika formalize this knowledge with reference to scholarly texts and disciplined study.

Throughout his or her childhood an individual participates in religious cere monies, readings from the scriptures and literature, and in musical performances that take place. Since Bharatanatyam is allied to south Indian traditions -- the music is Karnatic and the spoken languages used (with the exception of Sanskrit) are south Indian -- a south Indian audience is familiar with the heroes and di vinities referred to by the dancer and he or she also knows many of the melodies and songs that the performer interprets. At an informal level (in contrast to a scholarly or analytical level), most south Indian spectators can discern the differ ent elements of the music, the poetry and the movements.

If organized by a south Indian community, it is not unusual during a recital to see spectators’ heads being moved from side to side signifying appreciation of a particular musical passage or sequence of movements. Many spectators mark the tala (time cycle) by hitting the right palm against the right thigh, or by clapping, then waving the hand in the air. Occasionally, during a particularly complex jati sequence a spectator might get up and mark this tala till the end of the jati, ac centing the down beat that terminates both the jati and a cycle of tala. If the dancer’s rhythm is precise, the spectator may turn around to face the rest of the audience and, with a smile, nod approval before sitting down again. To westerners, to whom such audience participation is unfamiliar, these kinds of action are distracting, but for an Indian audience, they are a primary means of expressing approval. It may be, too, that discussion of the merits or demerits of a performer takes place during the recital, although this is now frowned upon as western-style etiquette has begun to influence Indian audience’s behavior.

[i] Bharata’s Natyasastra (circa third century A.D.) is the oldest extant text on Indian dramaturgy [see Ghosh 1967]. The text is important to Bharatanatyam, but the subject is not developed here in this short essay[see Puri 1983, Chapter 3, for further discussion]. [The Editors].

[ii] The texts on natya and abhinaya describe in detail the different moves of each of these bodily parts --

cf. Ghosh [1967] translation of Bharata Natyasastra,

Duggirala [1970].translation of Nandikesvara's Abhinaya Darpanam ('Mirror of Gesture')

* Vatsayan, 1968 is Classical Indian dance in Literature and the Arts by Dr. Kapila Vatsayan

** Coomaraswamy 1934 is The Transformation of Nature in Art by Dr. Ananda K. Coomaraswamy

An interesting metaphor

2010-03-22T13:18:00.000-04:00

Did you know that in Sanskrit literature fake ascetics are often compared to herons?

This is because herons are white in color so *look* deceptively innocent and pure but in fact eat fish. The whole fish thing manages to mar their purity. (Going back to the fact that ascetics are vegetarians)

Fascinating. Which I suppose leads to an entire discussion on the use of metaphor in dance, but I'll save that for another day.

Letters to a Young Poet/Chicken Soup for the Artist's Soul

2010-03-06T11:49:00.001-05:00

If you're an artist and you ever find yourself in a rut or questioning what you do, please, please read a translation of Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet. I just finished the tiny, 100 page book last week and its effects were similar to the "Chicken Soup for the Soul" books you would read when your younger - but way better.

Rainer is absolutely inspirational in his ability to take everyday cliches and turn them into beautiful poetic letters about the life of an artist. Much of it rings true, other parts cause you to contemplate deeply the meaning of what you do. Read it when you can no longer stand the politics, the critics, or even yourself haha.

Here are a few quotes I found particularly meaningful:

Paris, February 17, 1903:

"You ask if your verses are good. You ask me. You have previously asked others. You send them to journals. You compare them with other poems, and you are troubled when certain editors reject your efforts. Now (as you have permitted me to advise you) I beg you to give all that up. You are looking outwards, and of all things that is what you must now not do. Nobody can advise and help you, nobody. There is only one single means. Go inside yourself. Discover the motive that bids you write; examine whether it sends its roots down to the deepest places of your heart, confess to yourself whether you would have to die if writing were denied you."

Viareggio near Pisa, April 23, 1903

"And let me here at once request you: read as few aesthetic-critical things as possible,--they are either partisan opinions, become hardened and meaningless in their lifeless petrifaction, or else they are a skillful play upon words, in which one view is uppermost today and its opposite tomorrow. Works of art are of an infinite solitariness, and nothing is less likely to bring us near them than criticism."

Worpswede near Bremen, July 16th, 1903

"...dear Sir...have patience with everything that is unsolved in your heart and to try to cherish the questions themselves, like closed rooms and like books written in a very strange tongue. Do not search now for the answers which cannot be given you because you could not live them. It is a matter of living everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day live right into the answer."

Rome, May 14, 1904

"To love is also good: for love is difficult. Fondness between human beings: that is perhaps the most difficult task that is set us, the ultimate thing, the final trial and test, the work for which all other work is only preparation."

Borgeby Gard, Sweden, August 12, 1904

"But please consider whether these great sorrows have not rather passed through the midst of yourself? Whether much in you has not altered, whether you have not somehow changed in some part of your being, while you were sorrowful? Only those sorrows are dangerous and bad which we carry about among our fellows in order to drown them; like diseases which are superficially and foolishly treated, they only recede and break out after a short interval all the more frightfully; and gather themselves in our inwards, and are life, are unlived, disdained, lost life, of which one can die. If it were possible for us to see further than our knowledge extends and out a little over the outworks of our surmising, perhaps we should then bear our sorrows with greater confidence than our joys."

Rasa Theory in a few lines

2010-02-03T19:15:00.001-05:00

Rasa theory is based on the idea that you can have a transcendental experience through art.

Interestingly enough, this is the simple philosophy as to why:

Say you see Romeo and Juliet on the stage. It's a great rendition, and you have the experience that people like to say is an immersion experience. You seem to forget about the world around you, and begin to empathize with the characters. So, what is it that you are feeling?

Is it Romeo and Juliet's love for each other? No, because they don't exist.

Is it your love for Romeo? No, because he is fictional and you are not.

Is it a past experience of love that you are experiencing? No, because it perhaps does not exist now in time, or you may not have experienced it at all yet.

So then what is it? You are certainly experiencing something, even though clearly it is something that does not exist as you seem to know it. It must, in that case, be true love, unmarred by earthly bounds. Real, unadulterated, unbiased love. The universal love.

In other words, the viewer is able to transcend the human emotional feeling of love and experience truth in the form of love on a different plane altogether. And, if you apply this to religious love and devotion, the same rules apply by simply creating great religious theater. By creating devotion on stage, you can experience true devotion mentally.

Granted rasa has strict rules you must follow to experience this, but this is the basic idea.

The function of art, according to me.

2010-02-03T19:04:00.000-05:00

I find art fascinating because it allows for contrary forces to operate at the same time. It is one of the few subjects in the world that can function at opposite ends of different spectrums simultaneously.

At the most general level it affects both the individual and the collective. Individually, it allows the viewer to remove him/herself from emotions while also experiencing them, creating an almost cathartic effect similar to what Aristotle speaks of when he analyzes Greek tragedy. At the same time, it affords the viewer the transcendental experience that rasa theoreticians like to claim is its purpose.

An individual also does not need knowledge of a genre's particular vocabulary to appreciate art, making it a universal subject that crosses and breaks boundaries. Yet, it remains regional: a person armed with that kind of knowledge is at an advantage nonetheless, and art sometimes is not wholly functional for the spectator without it.

While the individual has the capacity to be transformed by art, it can change the face of a society as a whole is as well. Indian classical dance, in the face of extinction fifty years ago, intertwined itself with the well being of India as a nation state and became an integral part of the independence movement, both dictating and reflecting the values people hold today.

Art is also not transformative in nature; simply reflecting the world around it in a poignant manner. For instance, Indian dance recently saw a huge spurt of productions about the power of the female. An analysis of this revealed a backlash to governmental ideals of women during the Independence movement - so art has shown a revealing look into the psyche of women post-revolution. Again, at the other end of the spectrum, it can also be representative of an artist's notions of the world around it, like Picasso.

So, art is full of simultaneous dichotomies - it both transforms and quietly reflects, it is individual and societal, it is real and transcendental, it is cathartic and can rile the soul. Politics in art has its place, just as sticking to tradition and not creating new work does, and those who claim anything one way or the other seem to have no idea that art has no rules. Society likes to give it rules and restrictions to make it easier to comprehend, to claim that we know what the supreme meaning of art is, but at the end of the day art has a vast myriad of functions and we can only point out what these are and perhaps analyze how to achieve them as such.

Alistair MacCaulay's obsession with Indian classical dance

2010-01-28T13:29:00.000-05:00

As long as you dress up and bang your feet around a little bit this New York Times critic will be taken away by the label "Indian Classical Dance".

That's all.

Dance on Camera Festival: Nrityagram

2010-01-28T13:05:00.001-05:00

I don' t know why people are so afraid to say "I don't know, maybe someone in the audience does..."

I encountered this particularly frustrating panel (Mark Morris and the director of a movie on Nrityagram named Nan) who repeatedly answered questions in a misleading fashion. There's no better way to perpetuate ignorance and unfounded lies than to put someone on stage who you *think* knows what they are talking and have them unequivocally and matter of factly spew BS. And it happens so often in Indian classical dance.

The worst was there were several knowledgeable artists in the audience who kept trying to answer the questions and we were shushed or ignored! "Traditionalists" of Indian dance were vilified, and a very one-sided picture of Indian artists and the dance scene was painted.

So if you don't know, say so, and open it up to those who do!

Sigh. How sad.

Great article about why sanskrit is fascinating...

2010-01-20T11:35:00.001-05:00

http://www.2indya.com/2009/01/28/importance-of-sound-in-language/

The visual pleasures in music

2009-12-13T11:52:00.000-05:00

Whenever I listen to music, I also watch it. I take particular pleasure in watching hands fly over mridangams, or fingers run through the frets of an instrument at amazing speeds.

Here is a great video of U. Shrinivas, a fantastic mandolin player, that exemplifies what I'm saying.

A practical theory on why dance/theater became so stylized

2009-12-09T11:08:00.000-05:00

Because of large audiences! It allows meanings to be clear (assuming you know what the meanings of certain gestures are to begin with) and, for those packed theaters, allows those that are in the back to know exactly what's going on even if they can't see the expression on someone's face or make out what they are saying exactly! (Think: Shakespearean theater).

Of course, this is before mics and the invention of the proscenium theater and film and small intimate spaces. Is stylization so necessary now? Does it take away or add to a performance?

Rasa theory would certainly state that it's necessary, for more than the practical reasons. Rasa theory demands that one not delve too fully into a character or emote naturally because then you break down that fourth wall - the one where the audience and performers know that it is a play that is going on, an important aid in achieving a "spiritual high" when experiencing art.

However, currently, it is realistic acting that everyone is trying to achieve. Noh theater, bharatanatyam dancers, Shakespeare, Bollywood, etc: things that have been stylized for years and years are now making its way into the world of "realistic" acting. I wonder though that this is little more than the West's hegemony over the East. When stylization is scoffed upon and misunderstood by Western audiences as poor acting or performing, (I myself am guilty of this!) and Easterners are concerned with "being as good as the West", there seems little other reason for it.

Sarvam Sarvatmakam, Part 2

2009-12-08T15:43:00.000-05:00

I propose that art and science are two sides of the same coin. Both provide hope, inspiration, and need each other to survive. There is the obvious: science behind the oil points that allow it to last longer and the simpler science in the very dyes and clays used to create the first works of art. There is art in the layout of a computer's motherboard, and the word used to describe a breakthrough algorithm or proof is "elegant". One would not work without the other, in the same way that our lives would not work if one disappeared. Can you imagine a life without art? The trees bleak and gray (would color even exist?) and our homes replaced by boxes (but then would we be able to conceptualize a square?). We would despair and die.

Both science and art stem from our ability as humans to reason. When an engineer puts together something revolutionary, he has to think about how all the components - the computer program, the voltages running through the wires, the hardware, it must all come together harmoniously to serve a greater purpose. You have many who come together for the creation of something like this: programmers, electricians, and so on. A great choreographer must do the same. He or she must utilize dancers, musicians, and create something where the sum must prove far greater than its parts.

Both must push the boundaries of ordinary thought to create anything worth watching or using and the final result is something that eases* us through our lives.

*The function of art will be discussed at a later point, such as Aristotle's viewpoint that catharsis is the result of watching a tragedy, or Abhinavagupta's theories on rasa theory bringing us closer to the truth.

MY EVIDENCE!! And watching the codification/creation of "high art" happen...

2009-12-08T14:47:00.000-05:00

YOU TUBE COMMENTS THAT PROVE MY POINT!!!! (with the last post)

robismellow (33 minutes ago) Show Hide
I think what is amazing about this is that they have elevated "street dance" to a deeper level. As far as the music issue being discussed - choreography doesn't have to match the rhythm of a piece per se, though I would argue this does. Just my two cents about my favorite new video.

analogWeapon (1 hour ago) Show Hide
being a musician myself, i like to think that i have a decent sense of rhythm. i think this is a case of something just not being my style. like i said: not saying the dancing isn't skillful; it just doesn't express the feeling of the music at all to me.

lingh89 (2 days ago) Show Hide
what refreshing music! This steps up the dance to a higher level.

********

These interesting comments on youtube also point to a second opinion I have - the codification of art into a "classical" style or a "high" art. I think it's happening right now with hip hop. As the dance gets more and more widespread and hits the stages rather than the streets it has obviously become more and more creative. It's hit the point now with themes and messages and various complexities within the music and dance that I like to think of as "the beginning of the end". It's a complete cycle:

1. Formation of the art
2. Art form is derided and thought of as "low"
3. Art form spreads like wild fire anyway
4. Art form grows and grows until people decide that it's more than just movement, it has meaning and implication and is experiential the way "high art" is.
5. Art form gets codified.
6. Art form becomes considered "high art".

I can identify the stages for every dance style I know. Some go through phases quickly (Martha Graham's modern dance, for instance, sped right through "low" art, maybe spent only a few years there), others remain stuck there for some time (Bollywood is currently in stage 3).

The Modern Aesthetic Permeates Everything...

2009-12-08T10:57:00.000-05:00

The Legion of Extraordinary Dancers:

What fascinates me about this video is that they have chosen classical music and given it a modern aesthetic through their use of space and division of choreography.

By "modern aesthetic" I mean they've executed a number of ideas that were originated - and are used endlessly - by contemporary/modern/postmodern dancers.

1) The music is loosely followed, meaning, the rhythm doesn't dictate the entire choreography.
2) The random interspersing of break off points for dancers from the rest of the group, is another common trait, occurring at 1:52.
3) They used heavily another common choreography bit where several distinct movements are going on at once, with random start and end points so the stage is full of a variety of motion.
4) The random walking or "street walking", as I like to dub it, occurs at 2:04, something I've seen in just about every dance show I've been to at some point or another, most notably as far back as Jerome Robbins in his "Glass" or "Water" piece. (I wish I could remember. Maybe the composer was Philip Glass? I'll repost this later when I've figured it out).

This is not to say it's not an amazing or creative video, (I've watched it 10 times already in the past half hour) but a probe into why this happened like this - I've noticed it in classical Indian dance choreography as well. For instance, Anuradha Nehru's group choreography also exhibits these structures. Yet, Bollywood doesn't do this, nor does Korean dance, or "traditional" ballet, really, so it's not simply that the modern aesthetic is popular or that its a trendy thing to do right now.

I think it's a few things. (We are entering the realm of speculation here) - one being that break dancing, pop and lock, bharatanatyam, etc, started out as solo dance forms. It's only recently within the past 10 years or so that they've really had companies intent on group choreography rather than the solo stuff. The modern aesthetic also started out as solo choreography (Martha Graham, Ruth St. Denis, etc, were solo artists first and foremost as far as I know) so it's only natural that groups developed such an interesting randomized aesthetic. The randomization allows for solo styles to shine through. I also think it has to do with timing - right now, this is the structure of group choreography when watching modern dance - so for hip hop and Indian dance, two styles who are struggling to show they are more than just folk or regional art (as in the case of Indian dance) or are more than entertainment and spectacle (hip hop) using the modern aesthetic is a way of legitimizing themselves and showing they are on the same plane. The ballet music they used, costuming, and theme shown by LXD -- proves this idea even further.

I'd love to see someone research this further. Oh, also, and how Asians became so involved in the break dancing culture.

End speculation.

==============================

After mentioning this to one of my professors, Uttara Coorlawala, she further corroborated my observations:

"Yes, it seems to work in a very postmodern way, using the break dance movement.. i.e. the way the moves go thru the music, the inverted bodies close to the floor, the asymmetry of body shapes, the asymmetrical sequencing of movements - yes all these are very postmodern, and modern. In terms of spatial group formations framed by the spectacular lights and flat viewing...

Anuradha's use of diagonals were a lot closer to modern dance, perhaps because of the stage lighting? and rectangualr proscenium space involved??"

Restorative thought...

2009-12-07T14:19:00.000-05:00

http://scienceblogs.com/cognitivedaily/2009/11/whats_the_best_way_to_take_a_s.php?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+scienceblogs%2Fcognitivedaily+(Cognitive+Daily)&utm_content=Google+Reader

I wonder where art falls into this? Is art man-made or a natural wonder of the world? It's easy to say man-made at first, but I don't know...the experiential aspect of art, the one that rasa theory claims brings one closer to truth, makes the answer more complex than one would think. Maybe it's like light: both a particle and a wave.

"I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds"

2009-12-07T14:05:00.000-05:00

We discussed this line before class began today, spawned by our discussion of the Bhagavad Gita, and just had to share. This guy says it way better than I do so I won't even give you a preview, just letting you know that this is the quote Robert Oppenheimer said when the atomic bomb went off.

http://amar-akbar-anthony.blogspot.com/2006/10/now-i-am-become-death-destroyer-of.html

The Bhagavad Gita

2009-12-07T13:22:00.001-05:00

A recent foray for a particular quote from the Bhagavad Gita had me stumbling across quotes iterated by famous people stating how much they loved and praised the book. The Indians, of course, did not surprise me, but the number of Western scientists and theologists quoting the Gita certainly did. Names such as Albert Einstein, Henry David Thoreau, and Robert Oppenheimer littered the page.

At first I couldn't understand it. Every time I had performed the Mahabharata or seen it being performed or even heard the story being told the 739 page story in the following few lines:

Arjuna, preparing for a great battle, looks out onto the battlefield and decides he will not - cannot fight. The sight of his brothers, cousins, family, and friends - the idea that he will have to kill those he loves - becomes unbearable to him. He turns to Krishna, who unflinchingly says that he must do his duty, who then reveals himself as God to Arjuna. Arjuna, overwhelmed and filled with bhakti (a devotional love for God), becomes enlightened in a sense and realizes he must do as Krishna says.

Of course one would regard it with some skepticism after dancing this same tiny bit over and over during different bharatanatyam dramas depicting the Mahabharata! How can you just accept it as "duty" - but the Bhagavad Gita is certainly more than just that. It is a fantastic writing on (and perhaps spawns, though I don't know the history of this subject for sure) non-dualism.

Which leads me to wonder, why is so little time spent in a Mahabharata dance drama on the complexities of the Bhagavad Gita? If dance is (as is described in the Natyashastra) a way for people to understand difficult philosophy, this would be where I would expect most choreographers to spend the bulk of their time - on unraveling and taking the abstract and giving an audience a hook by representing it through the particular. (For that is a great way of thinking that this is what art is, especially bharatanatyam, isn't it? A general idea represented through a particular story or moment.)

I myself just bought the Winthrop translation and am not excited to delve into this book much further. Once I've read it, I'll give you guys the blow-by-blow. Or maybe just the lines that spoke to me :).

Here are some quotes and phrases that spawned me to write this post:

Albert Einstein: When I read the Bhagavad-Gita and reflect about how God created this universe everything else seems so superfluous.

Henry David Thoreau: In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavad-gita, in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial.

Robert Oppenheimer: We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried, most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty and to impress him takes on his multi-armed form and says, 'Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.' I suppose we all thought that, one way or another.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: I owed a magnificent day to the Bhagavad-Gita. It was the first of books; it was as if an empire spoke to us, nothing small or unworthy, but large, serene, consistent, the voice of an old intelligence which in another age and climate had pondered and thus disposed of the same questions which exercise us.

the development of hand gestures

2009-12-01T23:42:00.001-05:00

According to my professor, at some point in addition to tonality being an important part of the recitation of sanskrit (and thus, the creation of the first 8 or so ragas), they would add specific hand gestures that had to be done during recitations. I wonder if these were precursors to mudras.

More once I've done more research on this...

Universality of Emotions

2009-12-01T21:35:00.001-05:00

I wonder a lot if this is true, and if so, it's affects on abhinaya and what it means for a dancer trying to express stories through facial expressions to a global crowd.

But there are a lot of culturally learned ways of displaying emotions as well. Note the recent investigations of an anthropologist who realized that eastern and western emoticons might be different for a reason as well...

And then how does rasa theory play into all of this? Oxytocin seems to play a role in how well we interpret emotions on a very general sixth sense level, and training also allows us to understand micro-expressions extremely well (like Paul Ekman's research).

I wonder if a study can be created to isolate and understand these components in how we understand art?

This is certainly an incomplete post. More to be pondered later.

Other resources:
Paul Ekman
Charles Darwin, The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals

Dance and Rehabilitation

2009-12-01T21:27:00.001-05:00

An NY Times article on dance and cerebral palsy.

Recent research has many scientists wondering how dance can help muscle de-generative diseases such as Parkinson's and cerebral palsy. It turns out that dance can be more than a beautiful vision or aesthetic experience - it can heal, and not just emotionally.

It makes me wonder what specifically about dance helps them - is it the mind body awareness? Because then yoga would be just as effective. Is it just modern dance or Indian dance as well? Because then it is specifically movement related. I actually think it's got something to do with the awareness you cultivate within your limbs and then how that awareness becomes part of you - something you just stop thinking about. Kind of like learning a language, but with your body. I wouldn't be surprised if it's modern dance limited, because training or work through modern dance is all about oppositional forces and being extremely aware of how each muscle is situated. A normal modern dance class will include phrases such as "go up to come down" or "keep your upper arm muscle rotated in while keeping the palm facing right". But I'm not positive on this point, and would love to find out how specific it is, because I heard a friend of a friend doing similar research but with salsa dancing!

I suppose also there's the motivational energy that music brings to consider, but I think this is of little effect: both pieces are teaching modern/postmodern/contemporary dance. Music for such pieces is usually quite esoteric.

I would love for scientists to dig deeper into this question.

Books about this phenomena:

Performing Arts Medicine, An Issue of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation

Supervision of Dance Movement Psychotherapy: A Practitioner's Handbook

On Food, Dance and Tradition

2009-11-24T15:31:00.003-05:00

A year or so ago, I read the Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan and was fascinated by our gathered food knowledge. Before science, how could Mexicans have possibly known that corn supplemented the one nutrient that black beans could not give them? Yet, they ate the two together religiously, as if they knew one without the other was useless.

In fact, it's only recently that we've tried to base our food knowledge on science, which seems to be ineffectual. Our obesity rates and trend diets that change every year or two confirms just that.

As usual, I've related this to dance. In my discussions on traditionality, I touch upon the question of dissecting traditionality. Like deconstructing food, does deconstructing the parts that make up bharatanatyam or classical Indian dance, and then putting them together in new and unexpected ways add up to the sum of its parts? I often wonder if this deconstruction - where we analyze the form, decide that we'll keep pieces of it and discard others to our liking - is a bit like separating the black beans from the corn and deciding to throw away the corn. We've just lost something essential to the dance form, the process, the choreography, and we have no way of knowing it's importance for sure.

Essential to what? That's a good question. I suppose if we go to rasa theory (and my own belief) that you won't ever get to experience truth or that "I've-got-chills-but-this-is-more-than-just-that" feeling by choreographing or dancing in this manner.

The tradition problematic

2009-11-24T14:19:00.001-05:00

"Bharatanatyam is thousands of years old."

This is the statement I grew up hearing, embedding itself deep into my consciousness. Bharatanatyam, as I was told, was the most wonderful, traditional, beautiful art you could practice. It had strong ties to Indian culture (particularly important to me, an Indian growing up in the US), encompassed the deeply spiritual ideas that had come to define India, and likewise (according to those around me) had subtleties and complexities that raised it above any other art form in the world. I walked around proudly boasting of the style to others, fascinated with the long standing ritual of it all. Though I personally loved all art forms, none seemed greater to me than bharatanatyam.

And it was from this seed that confusion stemmed. One sharp look at history skewed all I knew and loved about the form.

Imagine my shock when I found out the costume I wore was no more than 50 years old, the broken lineage a result of India's war for independence. The word bharatanatyam itself was created was in the 1950's to separate and cleanse itself of its connections to sadir and prostitution. Scholars, now, put bharatanatyam under the category of invented traditions, noting it as a reconstruction from a past Indians could not know much about rather than a sacred tradition passed down from generation to generation. Worse still is that 99% of teachers will tell you that bharatanatyam has an unbroken lineage going back 3000-5000 years. The Natyashastra, the treatise to which dancers look to in order to determine traditionality, is only 1500-2000 years old...

I am aware that this is something addressed time and time again by other researchers and artists (Avanthi Meduri's "Bharatanatyam - Where are you?" article is a fantastic example) but it is still an issue entangled so fiercely into my questioning that I must restate it again. In fact, this phenomena is probably why I became so obsessed with dance research in the first place. As such, it is an appropriate first topic for me to write about, and one that I will write about several more times, if only because it results in questions that just won't go away no matter how many times and from what angles I approach them.

The more I learned about the history of our "tradition", the ideas I held so dear soon became part of a constant questioning process: if we're going back 2000 years to books about rasa theory and, more specifically, the Natyashastra, to prove that we are following tradition, why should I bother with what I've been taught? Why not work purely off the treatises written then? And then, why is it so important to retain this imagery of tradition? If Rukmini Devi, a significant revivalist of bharatanatyam, had so many codifications and restrictions to the form as to remove it from the way it was originally practiced why did no one notice and speak up about it then? Why are we so obsessed with calling it ancient and tracing it back thousands of years? Is there a way to make a decision as an artist without considering the idea of traditionality, and without imposing yourself as "for" or "against" tradition? What of the costuming, the glitzy symbolism of ages past - is it simply empty symbolism, devoid of meaning? If so, where does its importance lie? Why do we find that we value so highly a knowledge of the past in our dance? Why does it matter if I innovate? What exactly is tradition? - as it is obviously ever-changing and based on a perceived truth of the past.

Often, I have no answers to these questions. But you begin to see how all of them are rooted in what I like to call, "The Tradition Problematic". For many, it is easy to ignore and claim that it doesn't require a closer look, or that it doesn't require such intense analysis. For me, though, I must root away and poke and prod until I've satisfied my curiosity and determined the who, what, when, where, how, and, most importanly why. Blame the mathematician in me.

Why I am starting this blog

2009-11-23T17:01:00.001-05:00

I had a lot to say about dance. Some of it inane, some of it pure speculation, some of it highly personal. That was when I stumbled across Sanskrit, the study of which has quickly become one of my favorite things to do.

Thus, this blog is about the amazing things I learn about the two, a lot of it inspiring random theories and ideas that I'd like to keep track of. And believe me, the word random doesn't even come close to describing the weird connections I make with these subjects and seemingly unrelated ideas.

I am not grammatically correct all the time, my writing could use more eloquence, (hey, blame writing technical papers for 6 years) but I will eventually get my point across. To be perfectly honest, I don't know that I'll be 100% correct about every fact I put on here, but I will try my best, give references, and will absolutely fix any mistakes if I am informed of them! Take it with a grain of salt, as this blog is an outlet of passion and I'm just starting out in my research. But with a little luck it won't hinder you from understanding it and/or garnering inspiration, and if you give it a chance, you'll probably love this stuff too!