2019 was not an easy year for me as a dancer. In February, I fell and sprained an already weak ankle and nursed a swollen ankle for three months or more. I continued to teach, but practising and performing were out of the question. I was restless, of course, but I do know that I gained much from the experience.
For one, for the first time in many years, I watched our troupe perform. I wrote about it in a Facebook post, and it sums up what I feel.
So often, when we perform, people come and tell us how much they enjoyed the show. When I listen to their wonderful responses, particularly if I’m happy with the performance myself, I long to be two people. I long to watch, while also dancing. I want to see us.
14th March 2019
At today’s performance, I will.
Anyone who’s ever worked as part of a troupe knows this: there’s no ‘me’ and ‘you’ when we dance together. We go together, we dance together.
And so, since I’m not dancing today, I’ll watch *us* perform.”
In April, I began to dance a little, but without the energy and vigour that makes Bharatanatyam what it is. I did what I could, but focussed on abhinaya, on helping backstage and on compering, rather than trying to do everything.
In the normal course of things, I favour a forceful, crisp form of dancing, which demands exactness and rigour. I love sharpness and geometry, and I delight in the mathematics of Bharatanatyam. Being compelled to be gentle with myself was new and important. Understanding my limitations and attempting to find beauty within them was a journey of discovery and learning.
We did three performances in April – at Udupi, Murdeshwar and Chitrapur. At Sri Krishna Mutt, Udupi, we put up Krishnaarpanam, an offering to Lord Krishna. Our performance there made for a wonderful story, and isn’t that what dance is all about?
On World Dance Day, we did two performances in praise of Lord Shiva. One was at the spectacular Murdeshwar temple; the other was at a small, beautiful math at Chitrapur.
I played smaller than usual parts in all three performances, and I revelled in that. I enjoyed the time I had to watch and appreciate the dance form I practise, delighting in the tiny secrets that unfold on stage, visible only to those in the know.
On Dashami, all the children at dance class performed, and I said the theermanams for them, playing the nattuvangam after a long time. I watched and supported them, while also attempting to hold my own when they faltered.
During the dance exams too, I enjoyed sitting with my tattukazhi and giving the children the beat, realising where I stumble and need to hold myself together.
I’m one year older and I recognise that as a dancer, this means that my body works differently. Joints creak more, knees ache, my stamina is lower. Yet, a year gone by also means that I’ve gained one more year of maturity that I can bring to the beauty of expression.
My first performance of 2020 is next week, and I look forward to it!
Aishwarya says
Such an insightful and inspiring post! I admire how you turned what could have been a setback into an opportunity to deepen your understanding of Bharatanatyam. The way you embraced the gentler side of dance and focused on the nuances that only those who truly know the art can appreciate is so powerful. Your ability to find beauty in limitations is truly a lesson for all of us. I’m excited for your first performance of 2020.
Varsha Seshan says
Thank you! Here is my year in dance, 2020. The pandemic changed everything!
https://www.varshaseshan.com/my-year-in-dance-2020/