On a Sunday morning, certainly not bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I drove across town to hear a talk by a classical dancer. A tacit duty of being an advisor of sorts to a cultural institute is that I have to show up for at least some of their programmes. I am not an expert on dance and not even a rasika in the truest sense, but I was curious about the topic ‘movements and their meanings’. I was barely in time for the talk and had missed the guest’s preliminary meet and greet over coffee. Regrettably, I also missed a breakfast featuring Malleswaram’s finest fare, a USP at NIKC events.
I had gone without preconceived notions but please, we are all human and my eyebrows shot up when the dancer began to speak. There was a distinct twang – yes, she was an NRI alright. Ho-hum, I thought, here’s another desi dance teacher who’s returned from America and is speaking to us as if we were a videshi audience. Ten minutes into her presentation, I was cackling aloud and hanging on to her words. She was that good. Female comedians are quite common these days and there’s bawdy humour in folk performances but a classical dancer who’s comic is a rare find. Ramaa Bharadvaj’s talk was a unique story-theatre performance combining wit, wisdom and insights. And as I found out later, her engaging style is popular with both children and adults. Her production of ‘Panchatantra- Animal Fables of India’ which she dubs ‘ family-friendly ’ was lauded for its humour and originality. She’s recently created solo acts that again use humour as a peg and she’s honed a teaching style using wit. At the talk, watching her reel in the audience of young dancers, mostly students of the institute, I remembered the classical music and dance classes that I had endured as a child. We students lived in terror of the Bharatanatyam teacher who was quick to use a stick on our errant hands or feet when we missed a ‘tha’ or a ‘thai’. Those classes were no bag of laughs, and from what I have observed or learned later, gurus prefer a disciplinarian or didactic style.
After the talk, I commented to her that humour was rather unusual in the classical dance forms or their teaching, Ramaa pointed out that not all classical arts are serious and ‘morose’. Of the ten types of plays mentioned in texts like Dasarupaka, there’s ‘prahasana’ – satire and humour. Even the Valmiki Ramayana has a generous sprinkling of humour such as the de–scriptions of monkeys on a comical drunken spree.
Ramaa’s wit is not contrived, and a humorous streak seems to be a natural part of who she is. She attributed it to her mentors in artistic and spiritual circles who were ‘fun and funny’. “I grew up listening to Swami Chinmayananda, and his talks on even a serious subject like Vedanta would be incredibly witty. Audiences warm up to speakers who don’t intimidate them with their knowledge. Isn’t that the goal of a speaker – to make that easy connection with their audience? I find academic lectures tedious and wouldn’t put my audience through such monotony.”
It turned out that my earlier impression of Ramaa was right; she lived and worked in the US for 31 years before returning to India. I am always curious about expatriate experiences – what they take with them and what they bring back. Ramaa’s answer was insightful, “The freedom to explore both art and life without fear or rebuke is a gift that the US gave me. But in my explorations, I never got lost because my cultural roots were strong.” She said she’s developed a knack for diving into her cultural origins and resurfacing with neo-avatars to enlighten a global audience.
Which is exactly what she’s done with her talk on movements and their meanings that connects 19th-century French music/oratory coach Francois Delsarte’s Science of Applied Aesthetics with Indian philosophy and art. And she’s been receiving critical acclaim and audience accolades at international arts conferences for it. Seems to me that she’s learnt the art of packaging from the Americans and I approve!
Sandhya Mendonca is an author and host of ‘Spotlight with Sandhya’ podcast.