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PrintPoetry in Motion
Vishal Ramani (left) shares her decades of experience with Bharatanatyam, an ancient Indian dance.
Photograph by Kyle Chesser
Sound of hundreds of butterflies taking flight. They beat in tight rhythm with the click-clack of Vishal Ramani’s stick—a piece of wood worn thin from hours of practice. Ramani keeps perfect time as the dancers, barefoot, follow in unison. Their young bodies are taut with attention—23 pairs of hands reaching toward the ceiling, backs arched, heads poised, eyes riveted on the teacher. The youngest is a mere five years old, and she is one of the most astute, graceful movers.
This is not simply dance; this is Bharatanatyam, an ancient and spiritual art form requiring intense concentration and mindful practice. Like yoga or meditation, Bharatanatyam is about centering yourself. Ramani’s students know that this requires discipline.
“The dance form has very, very structured rules. It is in a treatise called Natya Shastra, which is a set of precepts on dance, music, drama, and theater, written between 200 b.c. and 200 a.d.,” Ramani says.
Ramani, founder and artistic director of Shri Krupa Dance Company, calls out the movements and strikes the beat. She is clear with her students: this hour is for learning. A student who gets distracted is sent away to sit and think about why, and may return only when she can focus again. Ramani teaches her students not just how to dance, but how to listen, practice, and persevere.
“They really need to go into the core value of this art form. It encompasses bodywork—structure of the body, line of the body, complete control, balance. It gives you a centering of the body like you’d never believe. Like yoga, it gives you a centered state,” says Ramani.
A teacher for more than 33 years, Ramani holds classes at a small Cupertino studio. Her Indian dance lessons are one of the South Bay’s last strong ties to a culture that has been largely left behind. In India, Bharatanatyam dates back at least 2,500 years. For many Bay Area residents with Indian roots, the dance is an intimate connection to their history. Although Ramani’s classes are open to girls of any age, most of her students are younger. This is mostly because the dance requires extreme leg and foot strength, and studied concentration.
Two recently graduated students come to the front of the class. Ceremonial bells wrapped around their ankles mark every step with a melodic chime. The students’ parents beam wide smiles. To limit distractions, typically only a few parents are allowed in the studio during class, but today is a special day.
Ramya Ramesh is one of the graduates. At 13 years old, she exudes confidence in front of the group. As she dances, strength and grace emanate from her slight frame. Ramya has been studying Bharatanatyam for seven years.
“It keeps her connected… The dance enlightens them, they learn more about [India],” says Ramya’s mother, Shobha Ramesh. “The Indian mythology, the Indian history, the art… It puts them in a very balanced state of mind.”
Graduation is known as ascending the stage, or Arangetram. The would-be graduates must perform a solo dance. Their performance may last as long as two-and-a-half hours, with only short breaks. In preparation for their debut, the dancers receive blessings from friends and family before their performance.
“It is a very important moment when the whole family is there with friends and the community to see how a new budding star comes out,” said Ramesh. “Emotionally, [the students] develop great self-confidence. It gives them a great sense of pride to perform. It’s a good balance in the sense that it has physical activity, it gives them good energy, and it makes them think.”
It’s ironic that in California, where statewide budget cuts wipe out arts and music in local schools, an ancient dance form flourishes in a Cupertino studio. The dance has survived issues much larger than mere monetary struggles. In the late 19th century during India’s colonization, Bharatanatyam was interpreted as too overtly sexual and was banned by the British government.
But the dance did not die under political oppression; it went underground. Bharatanatyam survived through small groups of people practicing it in their homes. When Ramani was four years old, her teachers came to Bombay (now Mumbai) and established a school near her family home. Her teachers came to her home to give private lessons to Ramani and her sister. Hailed as a child prodigy by The Times of India, Ramani graduated when she was only seven.
“That means I had something inside of me that was igniting, telling me to follow this path. One thing I know for sure, it was not something that was pushed into me; I pushed it into myself,” Ramani says.
From her early childhood, Ramani’s life was filled with loss. At the age of seven, she chose to remain in Mumbai to continue dance classes while her parents moved to northeastern India for work. She was mostly alone in Mumbai and exposed to harsh reality at a young age—torn between the need to be with her family and her love of dance. At 22, she was given away in an arranged marriage, and her dream of becoming a professional dancer was destroyed.
But Bharatanatyam never left her, and she could never leave it behind, even after moving to the United States. After the loss of her two-year-old daughter in a tragic accident, Ramani’s devastation brought her back to dance. Ramani believes that her life experiences, while shattering, have ultimately enriched her ability to dance and teach.
“Life experiences are known as Anubhava. Dance uses Bhava, or expression, which is greatly enriched by Anubhava,” she says.
Ramani brings Bharatanatyam to her South Bay students with a clarity and passion. Through practicing the dance form, her students are introduced to the concept of self-control at an early age. As a result, Ramani believes they are better prepared to navigate through everyday struggles, master their emotions, and live happier lives.
“Our human soul, or Jeevatma, is always aspiring to reach the supreme soul, known as Paramatma. That is the core understanding of this art form,” she says. “Our human soul is always pining to reach the divine.”
Every December and January in Chennai, India, a huge festival takes place called the Madras Music Season. It is one of the largest cultural events in the world. This year, four of Ramani’s students have been chosen to dance at Chennai.
“I must say I’m very proud of them... They are very dedicated. They give their hearts out to the school,” says Ramani. “I believe in children. I believe they are already close to God, full of softness, beauty, and smiles. I am inspired by their innocence. I believe in working with them to help their little bodies become strong through the practice of this ancient legacy of India.”
