CHENNAI: By and large, Bharatanatyam was an art form intended to be performed by the lovelorn nayika. But today, the scenario has transformed where both men and women receive equal recognition. But despite male dancers like Dhananjayan, CV Chandrashekhar, and Navtej Johar breaking the stereotype, some still feel that the lasya style movements don’t suit the male body.
And in sringara, a rasa showcasing love and romance, there are very few traditional padams and javalis that speak from a male perspective. So, how does one craft a sringara-based repertoire for a male dancer? How can the artiste cross the gender divide and perform more pieces?
Mumbai-based Vaibhav Arekar, dancer-cum-mentor and founder of Sankhya Dance Creations, who was a speaker at the 37th Natya Kala conference shares, “I’ve been a dancer for 25 years, and to me, dance by itself is sringara. The societal norms influences the actions and reactions of the male dancer.”
When Vaibhav convinced his parents that he wanted to pursue a career in dance, the first thing he was asked not to do was ‘to become a female/be feminine’. “It all starts from there. So, you start learning unknown kinetics of how you carry yourself and act in public. I was the only male dancer in a group of 50 women and you tend to pick up mannerisms,” he shares.
Many years later, the idea of gender, and the distinction that it was making, began to creep in. “I began to wonder if artistes were being trapped in their socially-accepted forms,” he says and recollects his role as Shrikandi, a character from the Mahabharata who was born as a girl named Shikandini. “During this phase, I felt that I was trapped in this psychological maze. I couldn’t perform as a trans man. There was a walk that I had to do at the end of the piece and four to five years down the production, I couldn’t do it. I was conscious,” he shares.
After realising the importance of understanding the character, Vaibhav says he diligently began reading articles on transsexuality and transgenderism. “One has to be open on stage, and the whole idea of sringara and doing a feminine moment has to be negotiated within yourself. The idea of figures, energy and movements come from an internal process,” he explains.
Transposition in Indian art is a beautiful concept. “A female vocalist can sing Thyagaraja Keerthanas and a male can sing Meera Bhajans, but we don’t see a lot of this happening in dance. It always raises a question,” he avers.
This year’s Natya Kala Conference brought to the forefront another interesting topic dealing with gender fluidity. Focusing on the gender fluidity of the Vaishnavite Tamil saint poets, and also the particular mode of representation through which they negotiated their relationship with the object of their desire — Vishnu, dance exponent Anita Ratnam walks us through Drowning in Bliss: A Performative Paper Exploring Gender Fluidity in the Vaishnava Tradition. Interestingly, the most potent imagery arises from male poets and composers imagining themselves as women.
“A poetry of Nammalwar, where he expresses himself as a maiden hopelessly in love with Vishnu, is a complex topic and is an example of traces of gender fluidity in Bhakthi poetry of Hinduism,” she shares. The Indian references for such poetry, in South Indian — Tamil region is recorded from as early as the 6th century. “These references are drawn from the Tamil Pashurams of Periyazhwar, Namazwar and Thirumangaiazwar,” she explains.
This idea of gender fluidity and impact in the Vaishnavite theology and practice has spread across 1,000 years and reached its grand climax in Bengal in the 16th century. “What one should notice is the ease with which the Azwars slipped in and out of the genders, through the body of their compositions,” she opines.