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SHE STEPS TO CONQUER! (As told to Sheila Kumar) |
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Unfettered by anything but dance, Yamini Krishnamurthy is, today, an iconoclast in her field --- Bharata Natyam EVERYONE in the packed hall is engrossed in watching a slim and graceful dancer performing a 'varnam'. As she moves to the front of the stage and (in a deftly supple movement of her wrists) casts a fishing net, the people in the front rows flinch. There is a frozen moment, which is then broken by sheepish laughter. The dancer was Padmashree awardee Yamini Krishnamurthy. The venue was Madras, in the late '70s. Years have gone by since that performance, not all of them have been kind to India's foremost exponent of Bharata Natyam and 'Kuchipudi': Her tall frame has lost its trim contours and her gait is not quite so light. But time has not quite been able to change some things: The sheer presence that Yamini Krishnamurthy possesses, her melodious, girlishly enthusiastic voice, her graceful, mobile hands that eloquently trace movements in the air... In her 50s now, she is a force that refuses to fade away into painful anonymity. "The past has been exciting, the present, extremely challenging. As for the future, it holds a lot of promise and many surprises. And I cannot wait to unravel them!" she says. Born into a family which was more literarily than artistically inclined, Yamini's grandfather was an expert in Urdu poetry, her father (her guide and mentor) was a Sanskrit scholar. And then came Yamini, the first in the family to take up dance. It was quite natural, she explains. "I used to be entranced by the dance sculptures - an intrinsic part of most South Indian temples. I do not believe talent is an ordained calling. It could happen to the most unexpected people at the most unexpected of times, and defies logic." So, at the Kalakshetra in Madras, Yamini studied dance under Rukmini Devi Arundale (though she didn't complete the course). "But," she hastens to add, "I was a quick study." She then went on to learn from the maestros, Ellappa Pillai and Kittappa Pillai. She explains, "I was lucky to learn two streams of dance - the 'Pandanallur' and 'Kanchipuram' styles. Those were magical days and the most exciting. I was no longer in control. Dance had wrested that control from me. I just went with the flow, meekly and gratefully." There is no sign of that meekness now, though. "I am a trendsetter," she says, matter-of-factly. "By the age of 19, I had burst on the national consciousness. My artistic development has kept pace with the Indian cultural milieu. Maybe it's a divine blessing, maybe it's charisma. But I have it!" Yamini elaborates, "You have to make dance interesting, move away from the routine, the formula. You have to enliven and infuse it with your own brand of vitality. Else, it boils down to mere technique. Think about it. A dance performance is rather like going out into a battlefield. You have to hold the attention of as many as five to 10,000 people, a lot of whom do not follow your language. "Ignorant about Bharata Natyam, they come to watch you more out of curiosity than genuine interest. So, it is important that you draw their attention, entertaining and educating them - all in a span of two-and-a-half hours. I do it. I was the first dancer to introduce the concept of Bharata Natyam to the remote areas of North India. And, what's more, I danced to very appreciative audiences." When asked to comment on her predecessors (like Kamala Lakshman), contemporaries (like Sonal Mansingh) or those who have followed in her wake (like Alarmel Valli, Padma Subrahmanyam and Chitra Visweswaran), Yamini smiles and shrugs, "There are many artists but only one Picasso, many singers but only one M.S. (Subbalakshmi)." Yes, Yamini has lead an eventful life. How could she not? A Padmashree at 28, she has packed in years of dancing all over the world. Along with stage performances, Yamini made a 13-part serial for DD. Currently, she is working on the English transcripts for the same, to be telecast on DD3. Last year, she wrote a book 'A Passion For Dance', which was well-received by the cognoscenti. But her pet project, the Yamini School of Dance at Hauz Khas, New Delhi, "was very demanding," says she, ruefully. "After overseeing the administrative details, I didn't get enough time to compose. But now that things are running smoothly, it's time to return to composing. And dancing." "Once, I used to concentrate on grooming the Yaminis of the future. Today, I don't make stars, I make as many dancers as possible. I believe every household must have a Bharata Natyam dancer. That will ensure the continuity of this art." Yamini has had her share of controversy, too. There has been talk of cultivated influences, of a deliberate domination of the field. There have been angry interchanges with noted dance critics. There was a minor fracas with the Madras police some years ago. Her autobiography came in for flak, too, with many shrugging it away as a piece without a human face. Today, Yamini chooses to play it all down. "I believe my most trenchant critics are driven by personal reasons. Their dedication to pulling me down is truly impressive! However, I think I have absorbed that venom rather in the fashion of Lord Shiva, the 'neelkanta'! I don't need to react to that kind of ugliness any more." She continues, "I'm doing my karma to the best of my ability. Though I'm deeply spiritual, I don't pray. My dance is a form of prayer. And I'm sure god is pleased with that." Yamini has planned a ballet, tentatively titled 'The Gandhian Order of Life' and another on Tagore and Subramania Bharati and their depiction of the Goddess Kali. With a challenging glint in her eyes, she pronounces, "A true dancer never fades. She just goes on and on." Talking of a generation that is believed to be dangerously vulnerable to Western influences, Yamini says, "My young audiences continue to watch my performances with great interest. Obviously, they know the difference between the trite and the meaningful. The beauty of dance is such that it has the power to have and to hold. And these children acknowledge that power."
Indeed, hers has been a life totally dedicated to dance. Today, Yamini looks back without a tinge of regret. "Marriage didn't happen because it wasn't meant to be. As for children, all my disciples are my children. With maturity has come about a sense of detachment. I follow my creative impulse. I don't lead a normal life, and don't want the burden of mortal attachments. I want to be free to put on my 'ghungroos' whenever and wherever I wish. All else are just fetters..."
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