Dance For The Sake Of Joy, Not Just The Claps

The irony amuses Nandini Singh no end when the classical dancer says that claps from the audience in the 1960s virtually meant being heckled. “Those days, you know, such a reaction from the viewers only meant hooting. See how much things have changed now,” the senior Kathak exponent notes on the eve of International Dance Day.

Inversely, performances today have largely got confined to earning applause by some means—at the earliest, the artiste regrets. “If you are greeted on to stage with thunderous claps, you are made to believe that the show is already a success. You effectively dance with the objective of getting rounds and rounds of applause,” says the practitioner of the Jaipur school of the north Indian form, speaking at an event in Delhi on Friday evening. “Now, that is a sad thing to happen. You should dance for the sheer joy of it—not to be applauded all the time on stage.”

That said, 65-year-old Nandini does not harbour complaints against the new generation—be it the dancers or the buffs. “The present-day students, unlike those of my younger times, would question the teacher when being lectured in the classroom. They would ask ‘why?’ It is a good thing, when looked from one angle; it shows an inquisitive spirit. For the teacher, too, such queries are often a trigger to learn more about points that he or she had paid unattended all that while. It prompts deeper research.”

The Kathak dancer, who has been moulded by eminent gurus Hira Lal, Ganeshi Hiralal, Pt Sunder Prasad, Pt Devi Lal and Pt Durga Lal after having been initiated into the art by her (late) mother Janaki Devi, was giving a lecture-demonstration at the capital on behalf of the monthly series being organised by the Ustad Imaduddin Khan Dagar Indian Music and Art Society of Jaipur along with the Dagar Archives. The two-hour ‘Gunijan Sabha’, where she spoke at length about the aesthetic, technical and socio-historical aspects of the form, was moderated by veteran musicologist Dr Manjula Saxena. The programme, titled ‘Kathak — A Harmonious Flow’, saw able back-up by a three-member team of young musicians besides as many disciples of Nandini.

To a question from septuagenarian Saxena, the maestro said the Jaipur gharana of her dance did have a rich repository of mudras (hand gestures) unlike the popular notion. “Our school stuck to the tenets mentioned in ancient texts such as Natya Shastra, Abhinaya Darpana and Sangeeta Ratnakara. The varied ways we would hold the ghunghat (veil following down the head) would themselves show one mudra or the other,” she demonstrated, to warm response from the India Habitat Centre audience that featured a front row of teenagers sitting on the floor.

Nandini, who has also performed several times abroad in countries of the subcontinent besides in Europe and America, said gharanas in Kathak did not imply vast differences in style—be it Jaipur, Benares or Lucknow. “The variations are largely subtle and meant for the discerning. The changes do happen, naturally, when an art form develops over years and spread to various parts of a country,” she noted. “Gharanas (schools) emerged also depending on the tastes of the local audience. What is of particular appeal to one region may not be so with the other.”

All the same, the exponent, who runs the 1996-founded Vasuki Natyashala in the capital, noted that the schools of Kathak of late tend to coalesce. “In today’s world, where cities have become big performing centres and they are places that have people from various parts converging, there is no definite or single choice from the audience. Naturally, styles tend to mingle,” added the practitioner, who has won several awards such as the Best Teacher by the Raja Rammohun Roy Foundation, Rajasthan Rang Manch award, Abhivyakti Kala Sangam, Indian Air Force’s Outstanding Woman of the Year and a senior fellowship by the culture ministry of the India government.

Nandini also recalled that Kathak—especially its Jaipur school—has had its ups and downs. “The dance grew in the same area (Gangetic plains) where the British rule had its greatest impact on socio-cultural life. We lost quite a few of its richness during those two centuries (till, say 1950). Luckily, its oral tradition being the norm, the gurus handed the lessons down over generations,” she points out. “Even so, you can imagine how much the style would alter when the Kathak dancer has to perform on Persian carpets, where it would be risky to go for speedy footwork (resonant with the sound of the anklets (carrying the small ghoongru bells) and free-spirited chakkar (twirls) when you (male practitioners) had a topi on their heads.”

To a question from the gathering, Nandini said the Kathak dancer should ideally leaver his/her identity in the greenroom before mounting the stage. “Once on the dais, there is no Nandini Singh,” shrugged the exponent, who has taught at Delhi’s Kathak Kendra and Sriram Bharatiya Kala Kendra. To another query on how much focus classical dancers get to groom in contemporary times, the danseuse—she has researched on pure-dance parans—said she would herself occasionally lapse into social media, but that would seldom play as a spoiler to her profession. “I am myself into Facebook and WhatsApp, but they are just pastimes that would help you update your notions about a fast-changing society around. Otherwise, I would get back to my permanent love: dance.”

Nandini was accompanied by her pupils Purnima Roy, Shefalee Tayal, and Leena Malakar. On the tabla, assistance came from Babar Latif, while Shuheb Hasan was the vocalist and Akram Hussain the sarangi player.

(The YouTube video is from an earlier performance by Nandini Singh.)