India's Kathak Dance in Historical Perspective

Margaret E. Walker

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN: 9781409449508
• eBook ISBN: 9781317117360
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Music

Kathak, the classical dance of North India, combines virtuosic footwork and dazzling spins with subtle pantomime and soft gestures. As a global practice and one of India's cultural markers, kathak dance is often presented as heir to an ancient Hindu devotional tradition in which men called Kathakas danced and told stories in temples. The dance's repertoire and movement vocabulary, however, tell a different story of syncretic origins and hybrid history - it is a dance that is both Muslim and Hindu, both devotional and entertaining, and both male and female. Kathak's multiple roots can be found in rural theatre, embodied rhythmic repertoire, and courtesan performance practice, and its history is inextricable from the history of empire, colonialism, and independence in India. Through an analysis both broad and deep of primary and secondary sources, ethnography, iconography and current performance practice, Margaret Walker undertakes a critical approach to the history of kathak dance and presents new data about hereditary performing artists, gendered contexts and practices, and postcolonial cultural reclamation. The account that emerges places kathak and the Kathaks firmly into the living context of North Indian performing arts.

Chapter 1
Kathak Dance Today

Today, experiencing India’s kathak dance as a spectator is as close as the click of a mouse. Multiple video examples posted on the internet, from children’s classes to excerpts of professional performances, provide an easily accessible introduction. One professional example is an excerpt of a tarānā duet performed by renowned kathak gurū and dancer Rajendra Gangani and Sharmila Sharma, a former student of his now dancing professionally, and even a brief glance at this performance shows many characteristic features of kathak. The video begins as Gangani and Sharma, accompanied by the distinctive sounds of the tablā and sāra

gī, execute a succession of simultaneous pal

ās or single turns in alternate directions. Reaching the centre of the stage, they enter into a short choreographic ‘conversation’, exchanging a few brief sequences that combine flowing arms with rhythmic footwork augmented by the sounds of their ghu

grū or ankle bells. Their movements are energetic, yet contained – crisp, yet graceful. The final exchange shifts seamlessly into a series of electrifying spins that finish suddenly in matching motionless stances. A singer’s voice joins the musical accompaniment as a pantomimed story begins; Gangani moves to the side of the stage, and Sharma sinks to the floor, gracefully gesturing as if she were adorning herself with jewellery (‘Tarana – A Technical Piece of Kathak’, YouTube, accessed 6 July 2012).

The Dance Itself

A tarānā, like the one performed by Gangani and Sharma in 2007, is a precomposed and choreographed showpiece that combines typical movements and postures with short rhythmic dances from the solo kathak repertoire in an exciting and virtuosic display of skill. Although many kathak performances today present such new creations and combinations, these productions are almost always based on the solo dance repertoire, the ‘traditional’ material that makes up most of a kathak dancer’s training. I do not intend to describe contemporary kathak dance here in great detail – not only would such an attempt necessarily fall far short of experience but this book is about history after all. Nevertheless, an outline of the solo performance structure and repertoire may be useful to some readers in contextualizing the investigation of historical performance practice that forms the large part of this study. Live performance, however, obviously surpasses any written description and I encourage readers who have not seen a kathak performance to seek out local or visiting dancers or browse their libraries and the internet for the many examples of video documentation.

What is often called ‘the traditional kathak solo’ is a stream of dance items that includes fixed compositions, improvisation, dialogue with the accompanying musicians and expressive pantomime. Even in large halls and formal settings, many dancers interact with the audience, announcing or explaining items, reciting compositions and even providing short anecdotes. The kathak solo generally begins in a slow tempo (vilambit lay) and gradually increases in speed and energy. Eventually the tempo doubles (medium speed or madhya lay) and finally quadruples (fast speed or drut lay). A similar progression of tempo occurs in Hindustani instrumental and vocal performances, and solo drumming concerts also share related repertoire types in their combination of genres that use improvisation and ones that are precomposed. In its expressive repertoire, on the other hand, kathak has more in common with North Indian vocal music, and especially the themes and aesthetics found in what are called ‘light classical’ genres such as

humrī and ghazal. Most performances include at least one piece of abhinaya, expressive gestures and pantomime that illustrate the lyrics of a song or outline the plot of a well-known story.

Music and movement thus achieve a thrilling synthesis in kathak especially when accompanied by accomplished musicians trained in Hindustani classical music. The links between music and dance are significant, as kathak dance shares many musical features with its accompanying music and Hindustani traditions at large and its typical ensemble in particular reflects shared social and historical roots between musicians and dancers. Chief among kathak’s accompanying instruments is the tablā, the pair of tuned hand-drums now ubiquitous in North India, which not only plays the same rhythms as the dancer’s feet, but also uses its wide range of sounds to reflect the qualities and moods of the dancer’s movements. The other crucial instrumental part is the lahrā or naghma, a repeated melody that outlines the tāl or rhythmic cycle, thus keeping it clear for both drummer and dancer. Lahrā is most often played on the bowed sāra

gī or the harmonium. Often both sāra

gī and harmonium are present, however, and with the addition of other drums such as the pakhāvaj and further melodic instruments, the number of accompanying musicians in an important performance may swell up to 10 or 12. Although necessity sometimes forces kathak dancers to use recorded music, especially in the diaspora where experienced musicians may be too costly or simply not available, the structural and historical links between music and dance in kathak make skilled, live accompaniment an ideal part of performance practice.

The first item in a contemporary solo kathak performance is sometimes a vandanā, a choreographed evocation of a Sanskrit prayer in which the dancer strikes iconic postures and performs gestures that evoke the Hindu deity addressed in the poem. The performance may not begin with this initial expression of reverence, however, but instead start with short patterns of footwork. This brief introduction then blends smoothly into the improvised stream of graceful postures and rhythmic swaying called

hā

h, which is interspersed with compositions in vilambit lay. The first is usually an āmad or entry piece but could also be the now rare salāmi, which features the Muslim salām or salutation. The rest of the performance follows, alternating between danced compositions and footwork and shifting into madhya lay then finally into drut lay with its spectacular series of

uk

ās and parans. Gat nikās, cameo characterizations that include striking a graceful posture and then moving in a gliding walk called a cāl, and kavitā, a rhythmic poem illustrated through dance movements, are in drut lay and may come near the end of this section, which ends with a virtuosic and often lengthy display of footwork and spins called cakkars. Gat bhāv, a pantomimed telling of a story from a legend or epic, is also usually accompanied in drut lay, but often presented separately, after the flashy footwork sequence. Similarly, any renditions of dance-songs such as

humrī or ghazal most often occur after the rhythmic section is completed.

Figure 1.1 Jaipur kathak exponent Durga Lal with accompanying ensemble. © Sangeet Natak Akademi, New Delhi, India

This particular performance sequence originated in the 1950s, but many dancers are unaware of this and simply accept it as an unquestioned part of ‘traditional’ performance practice. There is a physical logic to beginning slowly, but there is also a musical logic and cultural connection as vocal and instrumental performances follow a similar progression from slow and meditative to fast and exciting. Nevertheless, individual dancers can and do modify the sequence and content in their performances. Particular repertoire items within a given lay can be done in any order, expanded or omitted as the dancer wishes. Dancers will also step back occasionally to offer their tablā accompanist a chance for a solo, marking the rhythmic cycle with their hands while catching their breath. The sequence of items in solo performance is also often followed in kathak classes and individual lessons, after an initial vigorous session of footwork patterns that also functions as a warm-up. Classes then usually progress through vilambit, madhya and drut sections, reviewing and fine-tuning material from previous sessions or introducing new items through a combination of learning the oral notation or bols by ear and watching demonstrations by the teacher or gurū. As the students dance the movement sequences, compositions and rhythmic footwork used in solo performance, they absorb not only the standard repertoire, but also the choreographic vocabulary used both in solos and more innovative work.

The ‘Dominant Narrative’

Along with the postures and gestures, the repertoire and the footwork, kathak dance students also absorb a narrative about their dance, what it used to be and where it came from. I have observed the dissemination of this narrative in countless classes in both India and the North American diaspora, ranging from enthusiastic children at Chitresh Das’s Chhandam School in San Francisco chanting en masse that kathak is also called ‘Natvari Nritya’ meaning ‘the dance of Lord Krishna’, to awed young adults at Birju Maharaj’s Kalashram School in New Delhi listening reverently to the hereditary master’s anecdotes about his great-uncle Bindadin in the court of Lucknow. In institutions that offer certificates, diplomas, or bachelor degrees in kathak, required courses and exams reinforce and test a history of kathak that links the dance to Vaishnavism¹ and places its origins 4,000 or more years ago in Vedic times when storytellers called Kathakas or Kathakars are said to have wandered the countryside disseminating Hindu mythology to the illiterate people. This devotional performance practice, sometimes labelled a dance but more often explained as a combination of recitation and gesture, is said to have faded as Muslim invasions took political control of North and Central India. The account then becomes somewhat vague as it describes this storytelling practice as having changed from its devotional form to a more physical and entertaining style as the performing arts moved from Hindu temples to Muslim courts. In a few accounts (for example Devi 1972) it is the Kathakas themselves who sought patronage from the Muslim rulers, but it is more commonly said that the dance itself changed through the general migration of performing artists to the imperial courts of the great Emperor Akbar and his successors (Singha and Massey 1967, Avtar 1984, Natavar 2000). Through the next 400 years, kathak dance is said to have become increasingly superficial, debauched and seductive as contests, tricks and gymnastic displays purportedly overshadowed the dance’s original purity of form and style. In addition, it is assumed that imported Persian dancing girls and eventually Indian courtesans adopted and corrupted the movements, changing them from pious to seductive. This presumed downward spiral is then said to have been finally halted at its nadir in the mid-nineteenth-century court of Lucknow by the enlightened ruler Nawab Wajid ‘Ali Shah, who was himself a dancer, and a family of hereditary performers who were both the descendants of the ancient storytellers and the ancestors of one of the central dance families of the twentieth century.

One can find literature that points out that there is no concrete evidence to connect the Vedic Kathakas to the dancers of today (Banerji 1982: 9, Venkataraman and Pasricha 2002: 50) and much of the rest of the narrative relies on oral testimony rather than archival confirmation. Nevertheless, the perception of kathak as the modern manifestation of an ancient tradition revived from a period of degeneracy permeates most understandings of the dance’s history, cultural meaning and context. More than 30 books, essays and articles in English and Hindi about kathak (including Vyas 1963, Devi 1972, Vatsyayan 1974, Dadhich 1981, Khokar 1984, Kothari 1989, Simha 1990, Rao and Chandrabhaga 1993, Narayan 1998, Massey 1999, Natavar 2000, Raghuvira 2000, Sinha 2000, and Srivastava 2008), not to mention hundreds of Indian dance websites, tell and retell the chronicle of the ancient storytellers, the decay of their art form, and its eventual revival. Pallabi Chakravorty drew attention to this phenomenon of unquestioning absorption of what she calls the ‘dominant narrative’ in her critical study of kathak, Bells of Change: Kathak Dance, Women and Modernity in India (2008). Chakravorty suggested that the mental focus and routine found in daily practice or riyāz make it transformative: ‘a powerful site where the dominant narrative … is reinforced in the minds of its practitioners as the authentic tradition of Kathak, thereby homogenizing its diverse history and tradition’ (Chakravorty 2008: 110).

This embodiment of belief reaches deeply into South Asian dance scholarship, as most dance scholars are or have been dancers themselves and undergoing intense training is frequently an important part of research. In the case of kathak, the connection of the dance to ancient Hindu practice has become so entrenched that it interferes with scholarship and critical thinking about not only history, but also power structures, class and caste questions, and gender issues. Many dancers becom...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• List of Figures and Maps
• Preface
• Acknowledgements
• A Note on Citations, Diacriticals and Italics
• 1 Kathak Dance Today
• 2 Colonialism and Nationalism
• 3 The Kathaks
• 4 In Search of an Ancient Kathak
• 5 Voices from the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries
• 6 Hereditary Performing Communities in North India
• 7 More Hereditary Performers: The Women
• 8 Nationalism and Revival: The Dance of the Kathaks
• 9 Classicization and Curriculum: Kathak Dance
• 10 Conclusion: A History of Kathak
• Bibliography
• Index