What happens when a classical dance form meets the world of vintage automobiles? In ‘Sair-e-Motorcar’, Delhi-based Kathak artiste Navina Jafa brings together two worlds that rarely intersect, rethinking what a Kathak solo can be today. Set to be performed on April 10 at Triveni Kala Sangam, ‘Sair-e-Motorcar’—which translates to “a journey in a motorcar”—unfolds as a series of stories and imagined encounters, threaded through the language of Kathak.
For Jafa, the work began with a challenge. Classical dance solos, she says, are becoming increasingly rare. “The demand by the market is usually group choreography, often set to recorded music,” she notes.
But for her, the solo—especially with live musicians—is where a dancer’s true artistry lies. “You can show your virtuosity as a creative performer,” she says. “Improvisation, or upaj, cannot exist with recorded music in the same way.” This led her to a larger question: how can one create a format that attracts new audiences without diluting Kathak’s grammar? The answer came during a visit to The Titus Museum in Chattarpur, founded by entrepreneur and vintage car collector Diljeet Titus, who also commissioned the work.
Drawn to the exhibits, Jafa proposed a Kathak solo built around automobiles. The idea seemed unlikely at first, but she saw in it an opportunity to stretch the form without breaking it.
Reimagining the car
Unlike a conventional recital, ‘Sair-e-Motorcar’ is layered in its storytelling. The performance unfolds through narrated episodes in a Dastangoi style, written by Jafa in Hindustani and voiced by theatre artist Sudheer Rikhari.
At the centre is Firdausi Mirza, a wandering poet who moves across places and eras, linking the dance pieces through a series of anecdotes. “The stories of automobiles—through symbolism, metaphor, and memory—are what shape the performance,” Jafa explains.
These stories range from childhood fantasies—like a boy who dreams of growing trees that bear toy cars. There are whimsical episodes involving royal figures, vintage motorcycles and more surreal ones with haunted tombs, spectral gatherings, and midnight processions where the living and the dead seem to meet.
Rather than using cars as props, Jafa integrates them into the vocabulary of Kathak itself. Through gesture, rhythm and movement, she evokes the sensation of driving—the winding of roads, the rhythm of engines, the sensation of motion.
This reimagining was developed in collaboration with Kathak danseuse and dramaturg Dr Maya Kulkarni, who helped shape the structure and visual language of the piece while ensuring that experimentation did not slip into gimmickry.
In one sequence, rhythmic footwork echoes the sound of an engine. In another, the body suggests a car climbing uphill, its weight conveyed through both movement and music. “I didn’t want to compromise Kathak,” Jafa says. “The idea was to remain within its grammar, but allow the audience to feel the presence of the car.” The production is supported by a team of musicians on tabla, sarangi, sitar and vocals, whose live presence allows for improvisation and responsiveness. “The dancer is not alone,” she says. “The entire team shapes the performance.”
A lifelong relationship
Jafa’s journey with Kathak began around the age of 10, during visits to her grandmother’s home in Lakhimpur Kheri in Uttar Pradesh. Surrounded by music and guided by teachers who had travelled across regions to learn their craft, she was introduced to dance early on.
She later trained under Pandit Birju Maharaj from 1981. But beyond formal training, what sustained her was “junoon”—an intense passion. “What I got from Kathak was the sheer joy, the intoxication of just dancing,” she says.
At the centre of this journey has been her mother, writer Manorama Jafa, whose support has remained constant. “The moment I would tie my ghungroos, my family would gather around me. Especially Amma,” she recalls. “She’s 94, and even now, if I rehearse in the morning as early as seven o’clock, she comes and sits with me in the drawing room.”
For Jafa, who is also a cultural activist and an academician, the question of innovation is closely tied to understanding tradition. Kathak, she points out, has always been a fluid form, shaped by multiple histories and spaces—from courts and temples to bazaars and community gatherings. “To innovate, you must first understand the grammar,” she says. “Only then can you enter into a dialogue with it.”
'Sair-e-Motorcar' will be performed at Triveni Kala Sangam, Mandi House on April 10, 7 pm