Beyond Technique: Rediscovering the Joy of Dance

Reflections on Bharatanatyam, artistic fatigue, and the search for creative freedom

I have dedicated more than a decade of my life to learning, practicing, performing, and in recent years, teaching Bharatanatyam. It is an art form that has given me tremendous knowledge, discipline, and opportunities for artistic growth. Yet lately, I have found myself reflecting on a question: At what point does the pursuit of technical perfection begin to overshadow the joy of dancing?

Bharatanatyam is an extraordinarily sophisticated art form. Its intricate rhythmic structures, precise movement vocabulary, mathematical calculations, and deeply rooted aesthetic principles demand years of dedicated study. As a practitioner, I have tremendous respect for this complexity.

But sometimes, I find myself exhausted by it.

When Dance Becomes Mathematics

Anyone who has studied Bharatanatyam seriously understands how much mathematics is embedded within the art form. Tālam, jāti, nadai, korvais, arudis, and rhythmic permutations require not only physical discipline but considerable intellectual engagement.

As I continue studying nattuvangam and exploring increasingly complex rhythmic structures, I sometimes wonder whether we become so preoccupied with calculating and constructing rhythmic patterns that we lose sight of the simple pleasure of movement.

Of course, rhythmic sophistication can be beautiful. There is undeniable satisfaction in watching a perfectly executed korvai resolve precisely on the samam.

But must greater complexity always be the measure of greater artistry?

Does a mathematically intricate jathi necessarily communicate more than a simple rhythmic phrase performed with exceptional musicality, clarity, and emotional conviction?

I don't believe it does.

Technique should expand artistic possibilities, not become an end in itself.

Beyond the Familiar Devotional Narratives

Another aspect of Bharatanatyam that I have been contemplating is its thematic repertoire.

Much of the traditional repertoire is deeply connected to Hindu mythology, devotional poetry, and religious philosophy. These subjects have produced extraordinary works of artistic and spiritual significance, and they remain integral to the historical development of Bharatanatyam.

Yet as an artist and an audience member, I increasingly find myself longing for different narratives.

After encountering countless interpretations of Shiva, Krishna, Rama, Muruga, Ganesha and numerous other deities, I sometimes wonder what else we could be exploring through this remarkable movement vocabulary.

There is no shortage of stories waiting to be told.

Human lives, cultural encounters, migration, history, identity, philosophical inquiry, and the complexities of contemporary life all offer rich possibilities for choreographic exploration.

This is not a rejection of devotional art. Rather, it is a desire to see Bharatanatyam's expressive potential extend beyond the subjects that have traditionally dominated its repertoire.

Respecting tradition and questioning its boundaries are not mutually exclusive.

What Inspires Me as an Audience Member

These days, I rarely attend live dance performances. When I do, I tend to be selective.

I still appreciate watching established Bharatanatyam dancers in Chennai whose years of training and artistic maturity bring remarkable depth to traditional repertoire.

At the same time, I find myself increasingly drawn to productions that push beyond conventional performance structures.

One work that has particularly inspired me is Vertical Road by Akram Khan Company.

What fascinates me about this production is not simply the dancers' technical abilities, although they are extraordinary. It is the complete theatrical experience: the powerful ensemble choreography, the physicality of the movement, the dramatic use of space, the music, the lighting, and the way these elements come together to create something profoundly evocative. This production moved me to tears as it is a human experience I can relate to-migration, immigration and being separated from your family.

Akram Khan's classical Kathak background informs his choreographic language, yet the work is not confined to a conventional classical presentation.

The technique becomes a foundation for artistic exploration rather than the destination.

That, to me, is deeply inspiring.

I want to experience dance that surprises me, challenges my imagination, and leaves an emotional impression long after the performance has ended.

Finding Creative Fulfillment Through Kalāsangama

Interestingly, despite my recent fatigue with certain aspects of Indian classical dance, I continue to find tremendous joy in developing my interdisciplinary production, Kalāsangama – The Untold Story of the Silk Road.

The production explores the cultural exchange between India and China through the transmission of Buddhism and the Jataka tales.

It brings together Bharatanatyam, Karanas, Chinese Dunhuang dance, Indian and Chinese musical traditions, and theatrical storytelling.

What excites me most is the creative process itself.

I enjoy researching historical connections, imagining scenes, designing costumes, exploring musical textures, developing choreography, and considering how movement, visual imagery, and theatrical elements can come together to communicate a story.

There is a sense of discovery in this process.

Rather than approaching choreography solely through the framework of a particular tālam or established repertoire, I begin with an artistic idea and explore how different movement traditions might help express it.

Bharatanatyam remains an important part of my artistic vocabulary, but it is no longer the only language through which I wish to communicate.

Perhaps this is why Kalāsangama continues to energize me even when other aspects of my dance practice feel exhausting.

It gives me room to imagine and explore. It makes me think outside the box.

Tradition as a Foundation, Not a Boundary

I believe strongly in the importance of rigorous classical training.

As a teacher, I value the discipline of adavus, the precision of araimandi, the understanding of tālam, and the transmission of traditional repertoire. Without a strong foundation, artistic experimentation can easily lose its depth and integrity.

However, I also believe that technical mastery should ultimately serve a larger artistic purpose.

There is a difference between preserving an artistic tradition and feeling that one's creative possibilities must remain within its established conventions.

As artists, we can honor the knowledge passed down through generations while continuing to ask new questions.

What happens when Bharatanatyam interacts with another movement tradition? How might its vocabulary communicate a historical narrative outside the familiar devotional repertoire?

Can a simple gesture become more powerful through theatrical context than an elaborate sequence of technically demanding movements?

These are the questions that increasingly interest me.

Rediscovering the Joy of Dance

Perhaps what I am experiencing is not a loss of passion but a shift in what I seek from dance.

There was a time when mastering a difficult jathi, learning a new composition, or understanding a complex rhythmic calculation brought a particular sense of accomplishment.

Those achievements still have value.

But today, I find myself seeking something more: originality, imagination, emotional resonance, and the freedom to create without feeling that every artistic decision must be justified through technical complexity or established conventions.

I want to see dance that communicates, not merely demonstrates.

I want to create work in which technique is present but does not demand constant attention to itself.

Above all, I want to preserve the sense of wonder that first drew me toward dance.

Tradition gives us a language. Technique gives us the ability to speak it. But imagination gives us something worth saying.

And perhaps, for me, the next chapter of my artistic journey is about discovering what else I want to say.