Featured Articles | California Dance Network

 

Featured Articles

Back to Featured Articles>

What is Ethnic Dance? —By Charlotte Moraga


Let’s face it, like it or not, traditional and ethnic dance forms around the globe are changing. I doubt there’s any dance style that’s performed exactly as it was 50 years ago. Dances forms are evolving, making them relevant, while adding diversity and depth to the dance field. Simultaneously there are dance forms that are being diluted, denigrated, and even disappearing. I believe all dance forms practiced today must address contemporary values and lifestyles or they will become extinct. Innovation within tradition is essential.

What does innovation mean? The American Heritage Dictionary states: 1. The act of introducing something new. 2. Something newly introduced. But I prefer the “WordNet” definition, which states: 1. a creation (a new device or process) resulting from study and experimentation. 2. the creation of something in the mind. This definition implies that innovation is not simply coming up with a novel idea, but lies on a sturdy foundation of knowledge, practice, and is actually a lengthy process, which requires depth, time, and tinkering.

Pandit Chitresh Das has a popular saying, “Freedom comes from refined discipline with responsibility.” For me this means that an artist has to go deep into the foundation of the form. If one is going to innovate within tradition, one first should learn the tradition thoroughly and achieve mastery at a high standard. Practicing, studying, exploring one form in-depth allows an artist to find what is at the core that relates to oneself and the community. This requires a lifetime of study. It starts with choices and artists, like everyone else, are always making choices.

On February 21, 2008, I attended the Dance Discourse Project #2 entitled “Investigating the Post-Multiculturalism Landscape” at CounterPULSE. During the proceedings I asked myself “are we stuck as a field? Who are we as a community? And is there a we?” Lets start with the term ethnic dance. Is everything that is not white dance [historically ballet and contemporary dance] ethnic? Except, of course, for European folk dances.) And what about white people who have adopted an ethnic form? In the early 1980’s the Chitresh Das Dance Company received a letter from a presenter suggesting that the white dancers put on tan makeup and wear black wigs. Pandit Das refused, insisting that a dancer, regardless of their race, who studied deeply and was responsible to the community and the form could dance Kathak. Thank god we’ve seemed to move beyond that issue. Some would argue that ballet is ethnic. Some ethnic forms, such as Kathak, have more in common with ballet than other ethnic forms, such as European folk dance. Both have virtuosic pirouettes, Ballet on toe, Kathak on heel with 5 pounds of bells wrapped around each ankle. What about tap dance? Both Kathak and Tap have intense rhythmic improvisation. Should we use a new label? What if we label them as percussive dance?

How are we going to educate audiences about the unique differences if we throw everything in one big box labeled miscellaneous? What about the term traditional? Can modern dance be traditional? Is Martha Graham traditional yet? So, what new category shall we call it? Culturally specific dance forms? What dance form isn’t culturally specific? There are so many different forms. In India alone there are more than seven classical dance forms and a myriad of folk forms. Each country may have dozens of popular forms and hundreds more regional forms. Why do we have such limited categories of dance: modern, ballet and ethnic or traditional? Do these labels keep us marginalized? Ethnic dance festivals have been helpful in giving marginalized forms a performance platform. But I wonder if they don’t also contribute or perpetuate the marginalization by judging each by a similar standard in regards to production value. One of the Dance Discourse panelists mentioned that he thought about auditioning for a festival, but they only allowed five-minutes to perform. “How am I going to show this tradition in five-minutes?” He asked. I think he is asking himself a very good question of the challenge, and challenges aren’t good or bad, they just are.

Pandit Das was faced with a similar dilemma in 1984 when he was commissioned by the Olympic Arts Festival Committee in Los Angeles to perform for 12 minutes. Fresh from India, he had a similar reaction: how was he going to present Kathak in 12 minutes? We’re talking 12 minutes distilled from a traditional Kathak solo that lasts from two hours, maybe even three or four hours if the soloist is knowledgeable and skilled enough.

But the Olympic Arts Committee wanted 12 minutes. He had to make some serious choices based on over two decades of deep training in the guru shisya parampara. With all his knowledge and background matched against the Indian value, “Audience is God”, he was well equipped to make some choices, yet maintain the integrity and technical excellence of Kathak. His decision was to take the essence of each segment of a traditional solo and distill each solo to what he understood to be a maximum effect of the form. Twenty-four years ago he was very interested in creating access to Kathak and still is, but ask him today if he would perform for 12 minutes and he probably would not.

When an artist makes a choice to try something new and different they’re changing their form. Audiences, funders, and critics have a tremendous influence on how forms develop in this regard. With that in mind, whose responsibility is it to consciously think about how these choices are changing their forms? What’s good change? What’s bad change? So many artists are just trying to survive, to dance and to perform. What can we do as a community to provide more contexts to our choices? One thing that seems obvious is we must continue to educate each other, and ourselves.

The community would be well served to continue these dialogues that help us understand each other. I believed all dance forms have universal truths. A simple or limited view of a dance’s history/ tradition can lead to misrepresentation or a superficial interpretation of the form. Recently, a very successful contemporary dancer trained in Kathak stated that he had a problem as a young dancer in having to portray Krishna because he didn’t look like Krishna. I didn’t know if he was serious or not. Krishna is but a metaphor. Krishna represents the divine force in all of us. Radha, his lover, another metaphor, represents the beloved, the devoted. These figures can be interpreted on a superficial level as heterosexual lovers or on a deeper level as the forces within ourselves. When you become Krishna, holding the familiar bansuri (flute) and hastak (hand position) to your lips you’re not simply portraying a Hindu God—you represent the divine force blowing life into the holes representing the five senses. You’re awakening your unconscious through your dance. I would imagine most dancers, in any form, are reaching beyond the human constraints of mundane expression. Martha Graham recognized this when she used the term, “Acrobats of the Gods” in reference to dancers.

Kathakas used to come from a hereditary line. Now anyone with the right attitude can learn the form. The guru-shishya parampara (student-teacher relationship) was such that the student would live with the guru, take care of the guru’s daily needs and the guru would teach them many things, a symbiotic relationship of preservation and devotion. Now of course most students learn in classes, often-large classes, once or twice weekly. Yet, for the serious student who wants to pursue the form deeply what choice is there? Is there a market for the traditional Kathak solo? It’s up to us to create those markets. Conversations and discourses like the one that took place in February are invaluable to discovering who we are as artists and understanding in greater depth what we do. I personally can’t wait 'til the next Dance Discourse Project.

Charlotte Moraga, a Kathak dancer, choreographer, and educator welcomes dialogue on this article. You can contact her: charlotte@kathak.org

Originally published for In Dance, April 2008

comments

Continuing with the Train

I am also glad that “the Train” was brought up because it is a fascinating case study in the relationship between tradition and innovation. I have studied both with Pandit Chitresh Das and with Ustad Ali Akbar Khansahib and have a Ph.D. from Harvard in ethnomusicology where I wrote my dissertation on Pandit Das’ contributions to Kathak. One entire section of this work is devoted to “the Train.” In addition to what others have mentioned in this forum, I would like to add a few things. 1) The piece was first taught to Pandit Das’ guru sister, Baby Rani, but she performed it with a tabla player. Part of what makes Pandit Das’ performances of “the Train” so compelling and so controversial is, I believe, the lack of accompaniment. 2) Describing sounds from the external world in Kathak performance is very much in keeping with innovations by gurus of the past, who created paran compositions such as “top paran” imitating cannons and “bijli paran” describing lightening. Therefore, Pandit Das’ guru, Nrityacharya Ram Narayan Misra was continuing in a well-established tradition when he created “the Train.” As someone else mentioned, the use of the jatis of South Indian rhythmic theory was developed later by Pandit Das himself. 3) Tabla players sometimes imitate the sounds of the train in compositions called rela—-in fact, that term is said by some to have come from railgadi / relgari, meaning train. Why does Pandit Das' performance of "the Train" cause some (often those not well versed in the dance form) to take up the flag of traditionalism when tabla players such as Zakir Hussein imitate the relgari and garner no such reaction? Is there a different standard being placed on dancers? If so, I suspect this may have to do with the different performance modalities of instrumental music and dance.

Train

It is so interesting how much controversy the "train" has created. As Ms. Moraga has pointed out, this piece is not a "bit" but a way to highlight the intricate rhythms of the feet and how they can bring to mind a story in and of itself. To perform the "train", Panditji's footwork must be immaculate in precision and variations of speed. To have been given the piece by his Guruji in the first place, his footwork must have been extraordinary or everyone would be doing this so called "bit". The truth of the matter is that without such strength and versitility in his footwork, Panditji would not be able to create the story and the aura with his feet alone and he has maintained this and developed this over many years. In response to such challenges that it is a "gimmick", Panditji shows each of the jatis before the "train" and has even shown other compositions such as "paran" in 5 different jatis to show where tradition and innovation can meet. Furthermore, Panditji shows this piece in the context of traditional full length Kathak solo during which he dances without intermission for 2 hours or more during which he shows the full development of the dance through each of the layas, many compositions, full length gat bhao (storytelling) and innovations of the gurus including the "train" and his own Kathk Yoga.

Ethnic Traditional Masks

Dancers and musicians who advertise with terms implying they are "traditional" ethnic dancers, often are not and disservice those of us deeply committed to studying and contributing to traditional ethnic dance. When I see a great kathak performer like Chitresh Das dancing a chuchu train bit, I do not see the "traditional" aspect. I have sung folk songs of the train men. But that is not the point here. If I go to a traditional folk concert, I want to see the tradition. Companies come here from abroad flying false "traditional" flags and discredit those of us in the tradition by selling a false bill of goods. Kathak is quite classical — so let's see the classics — and without teeny-bopper belly buttons to be "in" or "with it" in an attempt at con-fusion. The difference is that we are contemporaries and aware of that world, so we express ourselves honestly for who we are. It is sheer pretence to think we are "back then", so we try to represent "back then" to the best of our abilities. If we what to recreate "back then" on a contemporary concert stage, then we study, we prepare, we practice. Robin Brown www.musicfilmfactor.com flamenco@sonic.net

I'm so glad you brought up the Train

The Train was taught to Pandit Chitresh Das by his guru, Nrityacharya Ram Narayan Misra, when he was a young boy. At the time it was created it was a contemporary innovation. Because of its novelty, it was immediately criticized by some purists as a gimmick. But gimmicks don't last and the train proves to be timeless. It has become a classic. Why is the Train so timeless and compelling? It is deeply rooted in the tradition and fundamentals of Kathak: 1)Laykari (rhythmic knowledge and facility) The train is based on traditional number patterns: fours, fives (2+3), sevens (3+4), and nines (2+3+4). It is quite innovative and creative how these patterns are used to bring to life the jouney of the steam engine, which brings me to 2.) storytelling. kathak comes from the word katha, meaning to tell stories. The kathaka is the storyteller. The Rasa of the feet take you on a journey where the audience member actually becomes a particpant as they are transported from the station through the peaceful country-side, passing a speeding electric train, over a romantic hollow bridge, and finally back to the station. This can be nostagic as the steam engine is a very important part of Indian history, culture and aesthetic.