On October 25, in 1974, Geeta Chandran (then Ramakrishnan), as a young girl of 12, took the stage for her Arangetram, marking the beginning of a journey that has spanned five decades. Chandran has nurtured and promoted Bharatanatyam not just as a dancer but also as a Guru. To celebrate this momentous anniversary, Natya Vriksha, her dance institution, recently organised a two-day Bharatanatyam extravaganza at Kamani Auditorium. Excerpts from a conversation on her life and journey:
How did you engage with the Guru Shishya Parampara as a young girl and did you feel you had to be responsible about it?
The magic of childhood is that there is no burden. I only listened to my mother, and she told me that my dance Guru was an exalted person, and so I respected and feared her equally. The burden of legacy, tradition, Parampara, all came much much later. The innocence of childhood merges with the fabulous energy of adolescence. There was no intellectualization of process nor any faltu chip on the shoulder. One only absorbed what one was taught. Like blotting paper, really.
What processes were followed by your Gurus to help you immerse yourself into a dance piece? How much of those methodologies do you work with as a dancer today?
The strict discipline of my first Guru Smt Swarna Saraswathy enforced in class was a class apart. She was a hard taskmaster and made us repeat ad nauseum until she was satisfied that the hands and feet positions were up to her standards and expectations. Also, no pen or notebook was allowed in class. Everything was shruti/smriti; hear and remember. No instant documentation. We would go back home to scribble whatever we remembered.
Today that does not work. Everything I say is documented instantly. And one can use the discipline stick only up to a point. The knowledge of rights and privilege goes against the grain of the old guru-shishya Parampara.
In what way do you think the tradition of Arangetrams have undergone changes since your time? What traditions have been added or discarded to keep with the times?
Arangetram used to be an intimate act of the guru, who would primarily invite the dance community, a few friends and relatives to showcase with pride a student she had prepared, and whom she felt deserved to be watched. Today, arangetrams have become social melas. And to my deepest chagrin, Arangetram often is seen as the end of the dance journey, rather than the first step towards a fantastic voyage.
In this incredible journey that you have had as a dancer, at what point did you feel that what you were performing had to also embrace a more socially conscious role that spoke to a diverse audience?
In my case it happened by chance. Twenty five years ago WISCOMP commissioned me to create a work on Women and War for an international seminar, where it was presented as a thought provoking performance. That led me to be convinced of the utility of dance in pushing social change.
Thus evolved a unique format of performance-dialogue through which I could raise contemporary issues of my choice. Previous works like, ‘Imagining Peace’ raised issues of the meaninglessness of violence. ‘Kaikeyi’ spoke about stigma. ‘Mythologies Retold’ addressed the issue of female foeticide. ‘Anekanta’ highlighted the Indian Constitution’s vision of an inclusive society. ‘Simhika’ highlighted the need for justice and rights for forest tribals. Earlier this month, I unveiled my latest work, ‘Our Voice’ stretching the genre to make it a multi-logue.
How do you want the upcoming generations to remember you?
I have no such ambitions. No grand illusions of legacy or inheritance. I have sweated non-stop for over five decades, dancing every day, and thinking of dance every moment. I was blessed to have had the opportunity to do that. I hope others too get that blessing.