|
|
Dances of India
The Arangetram
Scene
Transmission through Translation
The Contemporary Arangetram
|

As a member of a new
internet group of Indian Dancers in California, I noticed an
interest among dance teachers to discuss the practice of
Arangetram and the paradoxical concerns
that this practice raises. This prompted me to revisit a paper that
I presented along with my colleague M.A. Greenstein, 4 years ago at
the Society of Dance History Scholars Conference in Oregon. The
following is based on that paper. I submit it to provoke the thought
of your readers with the caveat that this is my opinion and mine
alone based simply on my observations and experiences. It is not
meant to condemn or criticize the practice of this tradition, either
in its pure or degenerate form, or the practitioners who believe in
it.
I hope it will make you both laugh and think.
In service to dance
Ramaa Bharadvaj
Director – Angahara Ensemble, California, U.S.A.
|
|
Arangetram
is a Tamil language word, which means the etram or ascending of
the arangu or performance stage by a dancer, on the completion
of her training. We find the mention of this practice in third century
classic Silappadikaram, by Prince Ilango Adigal. In his third
chapter, “Arangetrukaadai” or the chapter of ascending the
stage, the poet vividly describes the graduation concert of the
twelve- year old dancer Madhavi.
Paraphrased, he writes,
After
studying dance full time for seven years, Madhavi prepares to
present herself before the king. The special stage is adorned with
embroidered curtains, strings of pearls and other ornaments, and is
lit by a single large oil lamp placed in front. The sacred bamboo
rod is bathed in holy water from a golden vessel and wreathed in
garlands of fragrant flowers. It is ceremoniously brought into the
theater to take its place of honor on stage. Accompanied by harp,
flute, oboe, drums and cymbals, Madhavi enters and begins an
invocation dance. She performs the dances of the northern and
southern traditions in various rhythm patterns with such beauty and
mastery, that the king awards her with a wreath of green leaves,
1008 gold coins, and the title of “talaikol” or lead dancer.
When
you live in Southern California, (or I suppose anywhere in the U.S)
you get used to the idea that the Arangetram is no ordinary display of
the Bharata Natyam tradition. Its practice gives rise to paradoxical
concerns, when the dance tradition and its package deal debut become
points around which Indian families rally to guarantee the continuity
of Indian values, to reconfirm their “Indianness” to themselves and to
their community, and accordingly prepare their daughters to enter
middle-class Indian-American life.
|
Case
in example!

The Arangetram of my students - Anjali Desai and Payal
Hathi 4 years ago! When Anjali and Payal prepared to present
themselves, after six years of part time training, the scenario
was not very different from Madhavi’s evening. The families had
planned for this day for over a year. The girls had completed the
study of the basic nine dances. To me, the Arangetram was going to
serve the purpose of a final term paper – it would help them focus,
practice and master these nine dances. The one-hour a week training
session was extended to four hours. But looking at it from the
parents’ point of view it seemed as if this was the Lifetime
Achievement Award at the Oscars. The theater was carefully selected to
accommodate what seemed like the entire Gujarati population of Los
Angeles. The invitations and programs would be printed in India in
full color. The guest list was drawn, the menu planned. The ornately
decorated performing stage (complete with hand carved pillars), the
musicians, and the guest of honor were all there and more. The girls,
the musicians and I, were even treated to a stretch limousine ride to
the theater and the show began.
It was
witnessed by 760 people – a kaleidoscopic sea of women and men, dressed
to kill. A scrumptious meal consisting of India catered and home-made
foods was served to everyone, picnic style. The cost of the entire event
… $20,000! I should add here that I refused to accept any payment for
myself.
After
the accolades, the standing ovation, the bouquets of flowers and the
gifts, when the evening ends there is still a glaring difference between
Madhavi’s Arangetram and the simulated ones. While the former was
equivalent to a doctoral dissertation, all simulated Arangetrams can be
equaled only to a high school graduation. Does the grandeur of the event
reflect the grandeur of the knowledge attained? The answer is an
emphatic NO!
In early
India, the ritual was presented to acknowledge the expertise gained by
the Sadir dancer who had dedicated herself to seven years of
full time study and training of not just the technique of dance, but
such related fields as music, poetry and languages. What did the dancer
do after this training and graduation? Well, believe it or not, in the
ancient Indian society, being a dancer was actually a legitimate
occupation. At one time, the Brahadeeswara temple in the town of
Thanjavur in South India is said to have employed as many as 400 dancing
girls.
The role
of the Arangetram has changed from the ancient times, because the role
of the dance and the place of the dancer in society have drastically
changed. Can students study Indian dance with a career objective, with
assurances of economic stability (without having to resort to waiting at
tables or part time jobs)? Where are the opportunities for a solo dancer
(unless you are rich enough to present yourself or as I see happening in
India to “buy” performances)? Where is the incentive to develop a career
in dance, which requires study, training, more study and more training?
Under these conditions, Arangetrams no longer celebrate the beginning of
a new career; rather, they become the goal towards which the students
work.
In her book "Temple to Theater", Anne Marie Gaston defined Arangetram as
“the culmination of the training phase of Bharata Natyam dancers.”However,
to many of the families, whose children attend Bharata Natyam classes in
this country, the purpose of the ritual, and even the meaning of the
word is a mystery. This has unfortunately led to the redefinition of the
Arangetram as being 'the termination of the learning phase,' a learning
phase that was part time to begin with." In many cases, the learning
process stops right there because they have finished their Once in a
Lifetime Performance; because the parents and the students are
financially and physically exhausted. The simulated Arangetram gives the
student a false sense of expertise and knowledge.
One day an Indian lady walked up to me and proudly introduced her
lineage to me because I was a “famous” dancer in the community. “You
know” she said, “my sister has finished her Arangetram and everything.”
I scratched my chin, leaned forward and asked, “I understand the
Arangetram part, but what is that everything that you are talking
about?” In my observation, an Arangetram is something to do before the
kids go off to college – a big expensive party! And the audience members
are mostly friends and colleagues, who know it would be rude not to
accept the invitation. Yes, we do have a city full of “dance chefs”,
but few know how to boil an egg!!
Dance
in a “doggie bag”
Along with the transplantation of dance and its related cultural
activities in cultures across the oceans in immigrant communities has
risen a different problem – the commercialization of the dance form.
Over enthusiastic immigrant parents, pick dance as an easy vehicle for
giving their children a glimpse of the heritage. The job description of
an Indian dance teacher in the U.S. reads like the job description of
Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother who turned the pumpkin into a chariot and
tatters into a ball-gown. We are often expected to teach dance,
religion, mythology, epics, folklore, history, culture, customs,
traditions, language..... and music. Of course, we all know what
happened to Cinderella’s chariot at midnight!
Peer
pressure and the need to keep up with the Joneses take priority over
sanctity of the dance form. Teachers dangle carrots of “Arangetram in
two years”, and in one Southern California case, a GIANT carrot of
“Arangetram in six months”. Arangetram becomes the criterion to choose a
teacher and Arangetram becomes the focal point around which the learning
is centered. This leads to additional victimization by dance musicians.
A percussion player once demanded that for an Arangetram, he be paid
three times his normal rate. I asked him, “Will you play your drum with
six hands instead of two?”
While my
Kathak and Odissi teacher-friends denounce the practice calling it a
concept belonging to the Bharata Natyam tradition, we suddenly notice
that the trend is spreading infectiously from the field of dance to the
field of music, and our social calendars filled with Music Arangetrams
galore – something I had never heard of or seen while growing up in
India.
And yet
this “Arangetram-to-go” does seem to have some positive social value. It
is in a way an effort on the part of the parents to reconcile their
psychological identification with familial “origins” and their current
place and values living in non-Indian communities. This effort, let us
call it nostalgic nationalism or unconscious classicism, is a curious
instance of cultural translation, whereby families regard Bharata Natyam
as a significant way to introduce their daughters (and in rare cases,
sons) to their heritage. And then there is also a need for the parents
to reward themselves by means of community well wishing for devoting six
or more years by financially, psychologically, and physically supporting
their children’s practice. In many cases, the mothers also fulfill their
unlived dreams of dancing on stage.
My
husband Bala put an added a class spin on the commentary, when he once
told a friend of mine that a qualified girl in the ancient sense was
someone who could sing, dance and trained in knowledge of the Vedas, in
other words, proper preparation for marriage and raising off spring.
Today, in place of academic training, dance is the primary means by
which young Indian-American girls gain access to “spiritual knowledge”
and are domesticated into patriarchal Indian society.
When
my daughter Swetha had her “arangetram” at the age of 7, I chose the
auspicious Sivaratri night. The Siva Temple in Concord California became
the venue and the devotees who attended the puja were her
audience. Of course, I also knew in my mind that this was a formality to
satisfy my own need of “offering” and that Swetha’s dance career was
just beginning. So when parents approach me with their desire for a
large scale spectacle, I always ask them, “Do you have money to burn?”
They defend their choice, claiming that bigger production gratified the
desire
to celebrate in an extended family manner, the achievement of their
children. Therefore, after explaining my view point vehemently, I find
that I have to give them the freedom of choice – “to do” or “not to do”,
in the most democratic manner possible.
Conclusion: Rethinking the Spectacular Society
The translated spectacle of Arangetram, defines the anxieties and joys
of the émigré family which finds itself shuffling between the end of one
cultural history, that is, of the Indian living in India and the
beginning of another, the Indian residing in the U.S. Fed through the
social sieve of the émigré experience, the Arangetram takes on a
“spectacular” and sometimes, degenerate form of tradition, presenting a
mere image than a vivid embodiment of artistic values. Here I quote my
friend M.A. Greenstein who writes quite brilliantly on the subject.
She
writes: “I turn to the writings of French Situationalist artist Guy
Debord and American art critic Hal Foster who each speak directly to end
of cultural history products determined by what Debord calls as “a
society of spectacle.” Debord states: “The end of cultural history
manifests itself on two opposite sides: the project of its supercession
in total history, and the organization of its preservation as a dead
object in spectacular contemplation. One of these movements has linked
its fate to social critique, the other to the defense of class power.”
Retooling his thoughts for our purposes, one could say that for an
evening, the spectacle of the Arangetram defines a public moment of
bourgeois émigré identity. Hal Foster looks closely at the social
function of spectacle from a Freudian point of view: “[U]nlike a typical
representation which works via our faith in its realism, spectacle
operates via our fascination with the hyper-real, with “perfect” images
that make us “whole” at the price of delusion, of submission. We become
locked in this logic because spectacle both effects the loss of the real
and provides us with the fetishistic images necessary to deny or assuage
this loss.” Here Foster emphasizes that spectacle assumes a marketable
relation between producing and selling an image and consuming the image
as a fact of personal identity, as a verification of me. With Foster’s
and Debord’s analyses in mind, I see the Arangetram, as part of the
Bharata Natyam training package, now fulfilling a tall, late capitalist
agenda of translating, commodifying and perpetuating a classical image
of Indianness within the new class structure of Indian American social
life.”
It is my
desire that the occasion of the Arangetram be understood in its true
sense – as a sacred initiation ceremony. In early India this initiation
led to a lifelong career of dance and music. Even though we live in a
society where such a career might not exist, the learning process still
does. As immigrants, we all struggle to keep our children in touch with
our culture. If dance classes culminating in Arangetram, is part of this
struggle, then so be it. But at least may this celebration turn into a
solemn and simple one during which the dancer is taught the importance
of making a lifelong commitment to learn and cherish the dance, an art
form which we are taught was given as a “gift to the humans by the
Gods”.
And what
God has joined together let no man put asunder.
– Raama Bharadvaj
December 30, 2001
About Raama Bharadvaj
Ramaa
Bharadvaj, the Director of Angahara Ensemble in California, is a dancer,
teacher, choreographer and actress with over 3 decades of creative
achievements. She is the winner of the prestigious Lester Horton Dance
Award in Los Angeles and her performances have been listed by Orange
County Register, as one of the Most Memorable World Dance events of
1992, 1997 and 2000. A tireless advocate of multicultural education she
has taught at various universities and colleges and has reached
thousands of inner city children through her outreach presentations. She
is the recipient of the Multi Cultural Grant (1995-2001) and
Traditional/Folk Arts Grant (1999) from the California Arts Council and
has served on dance panels for the CAC and NEA. She is currently on the
dance faculty at Orange Coast College in Costa Mesa CA. Ramaa and her
daughter Swetha were featured on the cover of the June 2000 issue of
Dance Magazine, the world’s most prestigious dance publication.
Top |
Dances of India
|
|