Many teachers, not many gurus

India's centuries-old practice of passing on an art form ­ from a master to a disciple ­ what used to be referred to once long ago as the guru shishya parampara (GSP) is facing many new challenges today. “What to us was complete devotion and dedication to our guru, is now mere tokenism,” says 85-year-old MK Saroja, senior-most Bharatanatyam guru of the country.“Our minds and hearts were never away from our guru even for a minute. Even while we would be washing clothes of our gurus, our thoughts would be centered on them,” says Kathak legend and guru, Pt Birju Maharaj.
Fast forward to 2016 and what do we have? We mostly have teachers, but not many gurus left. And what's the difference between the two? Gurus were complete artistes who mastered a style of dance and also knew the 3S: sahitya (literature), sangeet (music) and shastras (scriptures). “Today, dance teachers barely know their own style fully,” says Anuj Mishra, a rising star of Kathak. Gurus were mostly benevolent, not interested in money, name or fame. Today, they are replaced mostly by dance-teaching shops, where hundreds of students abound. When hundreds are taught in an assembly-line for mat, personal supervision takes a backseat.
Parents who are serious about teaching classical dance to their wards should see this - healthy student-teacher ratio­ - as the first prerequisite while choosing a dance school. “But the aspirations of students today are very high and what’s wrong with that?” asks Bharatanatyam dancer and Padma Shri awardee Ananda Shankar Jayant.
“The guru shishya parampara that we inherited and knew is in coma, if not dead,” holds Tushar Bhatt, who with wife Pooja runs Kathakaar, a dance teaching unit in the city. “We have students coming from Dubai to learn with sincerity but here, Indian parents are pushy and each thinks his or her child is a Kohinoor!" “My students respect me a lot and call me Anna,” says Sujay Shanbhag, a dancer who practices the Mysore Bharatanatyam style. Barely 20 years old, Shanbhag is already training 10 students in Hubbali.
“I go to Hubbali because few teachers are willing to go to small towns and teach. These dance tutorials also help pay for my college fees,” says Shanbhag. When not in college, or training his students, Shanbhag learns dance from his guru Dr Vasundhara Doraiswamy. “I want to pass on her art to others who are less privileged,” he says. Aishwarya Nityanand differs from Shanbhag. “I don’t wish to teach because it’s a lot of responsibility. I only wish to dance,” says Nityanand, who was ranked among the top 3 Under 30 talents in India by a leading magazine last year.
Dance schools mushroom
Why is everyone suddenly into teaching dance? Neighbourhood dance schools, without any quality check by authorities like Sangeet Natak Akademi or ministry of culture (often giving them grants) are mushrooming. “One reason is there are too many dancers now (or people who think they are!) but they are so basic that they don’t get enough opportunities to dance on the professional stage and festivals, so then teaching becomes the next best thing to do,” says Bharatanatyam and Kuchipudi dance exponent Yamini Krishnamurthi, who continues to teach but only a handful, not hundreds. “Teaching sometimes is for those who are often not successful solo dancers or have the stamina, training and patience to become one,” says Bharatanatyam dancer Alarmel Valli. So, what does this bode for the future of Indian classical dance?
See, learn, examine
“While quantity has increased, quality is suspect. Then, there was one guru for one shishya; now you have many teachers and students. That's the main difference,” says Krishnamurthi.
And what of dance departments in various universities? Do they match up to standards? “University dance teaching is pathetic. How many professional and successful performers have any of them turned out? Not one known, nationally. Universities have only created some substandard PhDs. At best, these students join the same university as lecturers, not dancers,” says senior Odissi guru Aloka Panikar.
India is in transition. Many traditional fields are forced to change with the times. Why will dance not be different? Look at music. “Learning via Skype is common. Sitting in Boston one cannot trudge to Basavanagudi daily to learn art,” jests musician Gayatri Seshadri. Inevitably, dance too is on Skype now. But city-based Odissi dancer Devjani Sen who regularly brings her master-teacher Ratikant Mohapatra (son of legendary guru Kelucharan Mohapatra) to Bengaluru to train her students is sceptical. “Technology is taking over our lives. Young students are very smart and have all these gadgets that help them record classes but do they retain all they learn?” she wonders.
Sampada Pillai, who came to the city from Pune and teaches dance, follows a simple yet effective teaching format. “What I learnt from my guru (the late Rohini Bhate), I pass on to my students as best as I can.”
“Dikhya, sikhya, parikhya ­ See, learn, examine,” advises Birju Maharaj. Eschewing cynicism, Ottan Thullal dancer K Suresh thinks the parampara still holds value in these transient times. “It reinforces the essential characteristics of traditional education system with ethical, moral and motivational aspects,” he says.
(The author is a senior critic-historian and edits attenDANCE, a yearbook on dance.)