Priyadarsini Govind was only six when she was initiated into Bharatanatyam, and didn’t then dream that it would become her career later. Today, at age 44, when the danseuse looks back, she feels the initial “clueless” patch had a lot to do with the time in which she grew up. For one, learning classical forms wasn’t trendy those days. Plus, Priyadarsini’s family possessed no particular arts background. So, when she eventually became passionate about dance and decided to make it her profession, the artiste met with a lot of apprehension.
What’s more, Priyadarsini had by then done a course in mass communication. “I was around 20 and had gotten seriously involved in journalism. I wanted to do so many things together, but I soon sensed I wasn’t doing anything concrete in one field.” That’s when she chose to prioritise interests and move to Bharatanatyam, full-time. “At some point, it made more sense to pursue something I had done for a very long time…something I loved,” says Priyadarsini, and the expression in her eyes morphs quickly into one of complete warmth.
Bharatanatyam took over her — completely — and even marriage didn’t persuade her to take a break. For a while after the birth of her two children, she just became “less active” in the field. “Life changes with kids,” she smiles. “But that adds to your maturity, which matters a lot in the field of arts.” By the late 1990s, Priyadarsini Govind had become one of the most renowned classical dancers of the country.
So, what exactly won Priyadarsini to Bharatanatyam? “I love its range of lines, circles…. It adapts to different music and languages so easily. It can be very old-worldly, yet so modern-looking too…. It’s the most complete form of dance.” Even as a child, Priyadarsini’s gurus encouraged her to watch other dance forms. “I’d have loved to learn Odissi,” she reveals. In fact, she occasionally travels to Nrityagram, the institute founded by the late Protima Gauri off Bangalore, to learn about the gurukul ways of learning the classical dance from Orissa.
Would such interactions adulterate the heritage of one’s performing art? Priyadarsini has clear views on this: “Actually, I don’t know what tradition means. As long as you keep learning and your dance is exciting, it is fine. Many dancers adapt the form to suit one’s body structure…one can’t always do it the way you’re taught,” she shrugs. “You can’t stonewall yourself against
other arts. But, of course, each form has its basic rules — and they have to be respected.”
The artiste recalls that none of her gurus dissuaded her from getting exposed to other types of arts — classical or otherwise. The most prominent among them being Kalanidhi Narayanan, under whom she continues to receive training. “Well, I learn even from my students while teaching them,” she notes, even as she slips into sense of nostalgia while recounting her arangetram (debut performance) after learning under Swami Rajarathinam and Kalanidhi “maami”.
Priyadarsini imparts her art to many students these days, but believes she isn’t ripe yet to be called a guru. “Come on, ‘guru’ is a very very big word. I am, simply, a teacher,” she insists. Her students join on the one condition that Priyadarsini can teach them only when she is free herself. She is definite about the need for a strong support system in order to be a dancer. “For me, it was first my mother. She first enrolled me in dance classes and gave me that first push.”
Today, the crucial prop comes from her husband and the two children, besides, of course, her gurus and their “plenty of blessings”. Then, after a long pause, she adds — and firmly at that, “Yeah, luck is another factor. And, there has been a strong presence of divinity in my life too.”
Her profession has provided Priyadarsini with a lot of travel memories. The glow of the sun as she danced at Konark Temple, the cheer from the crowd in smallish Caribbean islands besides bigger venues across the West…. Even so, her favourite performance space remains in Chennai — during the December ‘season’. Priyadarsini acknowledges how competitive classical dance has become, and wonders how she has gained a name in the circuit. “I am not one to do much PR work. If I want to dance somewhere, I write to the organisers. If it works, it works.”
The exponent affirms that the globe has shrunk, even for her form of dance. “A lot of Indians born and raised in other countries are taking up the art now. The Bharatanatyam scene now is very vibrant, and a lot larger. There are a lot of very young people who want to take it up as a career even. That’s the most wonderful thing,” she gushes. But though the world is seeing younger, fresher faces, Priyadasini’s abhinaya skills remain unmatched. “A lot of times I forget I’m older now. I still think I’m my (college-going) daughter’s age,” she chuckles. After all, dance is not a matter of just the body, but the mind as well.
— dakkum@gmail.com