​I have heard tennis players say that they pursued the sport because they were “ball hogs,” greedy of the limelight and the freedom an empty court affords. I suspect that many Indian performing artists feel likewise (bell hogs?), and in the case of some arts such as Bharatanatyam, why not? After all, the style originated and evolved as a solo form, with chief importance placed on a codified repertoire known as the margam (Sanskrit for “path”). 

However, I was forced to reexamine this belief after working in New York City and with the Indian diaspora, catering to audiences spreading vastly beyond the predominantly Desi patrons in suburban auditoriums...

​Consider some of the most recent Indian classical dance productions by local companies (Malini Srinivasan’s “Tejas Luminous”; Sonali Skandan’s “Mayura: Blue Peacock”) and by artists from abroad (Renjith Babu and Vijna Vasudevan in duet; Ramli Ibrahim’s “Krishna: Love Re-Invented”), all of which enjoyed much success in the New York metro. What did they share? Teamwork.

While some capitalized on the captivating power of synchronized rhythmic precision, others exploited the sculpturesque poses attainable with a colorfully clad troupe. While the trend of increasing group productions has been observed for quite some time now, the idea that these efforts may actually be necessary in places like New York is not often articulated. In cities where “dance” once referred primarily to tutus and minimalistic leotards, Indian classical dance artists have teamed up to promise an enriching and multidimensional experience for the uninitiated— one that might not be as effective if consisting of a lone performer— and ensure audiences have ample information to motivate their attendance.

For sustainability purposes, it would seem foolish for anyone to forsake the team performance idiom in favor of a staunch traditionalist perspective. Barring the few virtuosos we encounter, this type of attitude may result in a failure to thrive professionally. But we should also recognize that collaborative work plays a critical role in artistic development. 

Speaking from my own personal experiences and those testified by others, there is potential for incredible technical and creative growth of artists when engaged in group productions. Both active and observational learning coalesce in such endeavors, with individual benefits often seen far sooner than in solo practice. Perhaps the most appealing feature of dance groups is that they do not require diva status (in either skill or name).

With a talented choreographer at the helm, an average but diligent practitioner of the art can be integrated seamlessly with others to create something valuable and impactful. When the whole is greater than the sum, we have visual magic. In this sense, group productions are essential training experiences for future generations of Indian classical dancers.

The message to emerging artists at Navatman and the community at large is that collaboration is an important gateway to a successful independent career, owing to multiple socioeconomic and artistic factors. Ego and eagerness can consume all of us at times, and the ideal margam is not always clear. But share the ball and hold out for more marshmallows, and you will be rewarded, if not by a solo slot at Lincoln Center, by a more beautiful toolbox to explore and cherish.

​Growing up in both the United States and India introduced me to a variety of music that I found exciting and inspiring. 

My parents were among the first wave of Indian immigrants to settle down in Rochester, New York, and regularly hosted Carnatic musicians during their concert tour.  Balamurali Krishna and N. Ramani were among the many artists who performed, and gave the community an opportunity to reconnect with their roots while introducing the younger generation to a part of our heritage.  

My family eventually moved back to India and I was fortunate to have Indian dance and music as part of the cultural landscape. My memories of music in Madras are vivid: learning vocal Carnatic music with my sister, visiting houses during Navaratri with music in the air, attending concerts during music season in December. 

I realize I had the best of both worlds growing up. Now, as a parent of two young boys in New York, I would love to ensure that my children will similarly have the best of what the world has to offer. My sons learn Mandarin, are well-versed in international soccer, and have visited many more countries than I had when I was their age. 

They are learning much from the world around them, and for this I am grateful. 

However, there is also the drawback of getting lost among the various activities, experiences, and environments...

​ I therefore find great value in opportunities for them to embrace their Indian-ness and help shape their identities in a meaningful way. I hope to cultivate in them an appreciation for South Asian music and dance at a young age that can be a life-long interest for us to enjoy as a family. These performing arts create a strong link to a culture that is thousands of years old and is a significant piece of history as well as modern tradition. I hope exposing my children to South Asian music and dance will enrich their lives.

Having access to a place such as Navatman that is grounded in ancient art forms is special. It would be one way to develop a connection to a strong cultural tradition that they can they can learn from and share with a community. An appreciation for South Asian arts is also one way to help them relate to their grandparents and other family.  

While there is no dearth of rich cultural experiences and opportunities in New York, finding suitable options for young children that are enjoyable and not overwhelming takes some effort.  At Navatman, I am excited to find a fun and engaging space for children to learn and develop their interests.

At the Drive East series in August, I took my sons to an early evening Bharatnatyam performance and was anxious that we might be disruptive when we were seated in the front row in an intimate space.  We had a great view of the performance and could see the dancer’s nuanced expressions and movements. During the hour, one of my sons was restless, the other enthralled.  It didn’t matter though since I wanted to them to experience the rhythm, movement and music in whatever way felt comfortable to them. The series of events was an opportunity for us to attend performances where children were welcome, where they could see many of their teachers perform, and experience how music and dance can be celebrated outside of their classrooms.  

As Navatman grows, in both scope and size, I am excited to see how my family grows in its ability to learn and appreciate the South Asian arts. The beauty of music or dance is its ability to transcend places and people.  We could close our eyes and be at a Kathak performance in Mumbai, at a jugalbandi in Delhi or be creating our very own experiences in New York.

​In the pantheon of Hindu gods, music and dance are revered and relished. The Goddess Saraswathi, resplendent in white, plays divine music on her veena; the music of Krishna's flute is loved by man and animal alike; the earth-shaking power of Nataraja's cosmic dance, accompanied by the enchanting rhythms of the dhamaru drums, carries within it the forces of creation and destruction.

In the realm of mortals, this divine Carnatic music with its sublime poetry, soul-melting ragams and electrifying percussive structures has universal appeal that can be enjoyed at kutcheris, or concerts, in sabhas or auditoria around the world...