Taking Kathak to Shillong Schools: an experience of a lifetime

The team with students at St. Mary's School, Shillong

The week of 27 February to 2 March 2012 will forever remain etched in my mind. Not only mine, but the minds of three others as well – Debashree Bhattacharya, Subhashis Bhattacharya and Siddhartha Bhattacharyya. The four of us were in Shillong, Meghalaya during that period presenting Kathak lecture demonstrations at ten higher secondary schools in a series co-organised by the India International Rural Cultural Centre, Delhi and the District School Education Office, Shillong. Debashree and I were the dancer-presenters with Subhasis on Vocal and Harmonium and Siddhartha on the Tabla.

Getting to Shillong is not easy from Calcutta, let alone Delhi. We were to take an overnight train to Guwahati – a journey of just under 24 hours – and then a Sumo drive up to Shillong which would take about 3 hours. Thankfully, the train was on time (4am!) and we found ourselves in Shillong by around 8am on 26 February – the day before we started our tour of the schools. From that moment on, we were treated like VIPs! The kind of hospitality, warmth and welcome offered by everyone from the Education Office staff to every single person we encountered in the various schools was something we had never experienced before – indeed, sometimes it made us feel quite embarrassed!

At a viewpoint going to Cherrapunji

The hospitality even extended to arranging sightseeing trips for us in and around Shillong and even to Cherrapunji near the Bangladesh border. Our two hosts from the Education Office – Latus and Ophel – were our constant companions and guides, and Mrs. T. Lyngdoh – the District School Education Officer – who was instrumental in putting the whole programme together, went out of her way to ensure everything was as it should be – and more. We were put up at the Maghalaya Bharat Scouts and Guides Headquarters, and Mrs. Lyngdoh had called me even before we left Calcutta to apologise for the supposed lack of luxury there. But luxury and comfort are not necessarily synonymous: just the way our rooms had been prepared to receive us – fresh mattresses and sheets, soft new towels folded elegantly, the table in each room laden with a tray of the freshest local fruits, sachets of tea bags and a jar of sugar, half a dozen bottles of water and an array of fruit juice cartons, a flask for hot water, glasses, cutlery… - underlined how much thought and concern had gone into receiving us and making us feel at home. It was easily one of the warmest and pleasurable experiences we have had anywhere in India or abroad.

I’ve only spoken of our reception, and there is so much more to say even about that. But the schools should not remain in the wings. This series was the first experience of lecture demonstrations for Debashree and me, though we have done short interactive performances for children before. But entering schools where the student audience may or may not be really interested, having turned up because they’ve been told to, was a whole new ball game. We had several schemes planned to involve the students in the programmes – rhythm games, ‘wow’ factors of Kathak like the spins and fast footwork, presenting familiar stories and anecdotes from Krishna’s life – but we knew we would have to think on our feet and improvise at every session. But the kind of reception, arrangements and degree of improvisation was something we were quite unprepared for. Both Debashree and I have been part of organising SPIC MACAY programmes, and I can safely say that nowhere in India have I encountered such a degree of planning, courtesy and foresight in any SPIC MACAY event. Indeed, we face several technical problems even at professed top grade dance festivals across India: in Shillong schools, where we were fully prepared to have to make do with fewer than necessary mikes, bad sound, unsuitable floors, there was not a single instance where we were offered anything less than what we had asked for. If anything, it was always more. Everything was always possible, we never got a negative for an answer. How different from how things function in my own city which still (mistakenly) carries the tag of the cultural capital of India.

Audience at the inauguration, KJP School

A reception of students, St. Mary's

 We performed at two schools a day - one morning session, and one afternoon session. Post that we would go off sightseeing.  The inaugural school was KJP Higher Secondary School, and it was here that we received the first taste of how much importance the Education Office and the schools had given this series. The inauguration was a major happening. Presided over by the District Commissioner. Mr. Goyal (who turned out to be a former member of SPIC MACAY) and Mrs. T. Lyngdoh, the event was attended by every single Principal of the ten participating schools. That itself was wholly unexpected. A choir made up of students – a feature we encountered at several schools – performed an inaugural song with beautifully synchronised harmonies before we were officially welcomed on to the stage. Every single school we went to had planned a special welcome for us – a choir, a reception avenue of students dressed in traditional attire of the tribes of the north east (at St. Mary’s the traditional attire selections spanned all of India), pinning rosettes on us as a gesture of friendship and belonging, an array of gifts selected from local art and craft, food specially prepared by hand in the school and often by the teachers or even Principals. We felt like the most famous celebrities. Who needs the fawning and flattery of Page 3, give us this genuine, heartfelt Shillong experience any time!

welcomed with rosettes, St. John's

Students in traditional attire welcome us, Seng Khasi

the choir at Lady Keane

The District School Education Office has 300 schools under it in and around Shillong, and they had taken great care in selecting the ten schools where we were to perform. The easiest would have been to enlist the usual suspects which, in Shillong, would have to be predominantly missionary institutions which are  about 100 years old now. These schools are elite – not necessarily in composition, but definitely in exposure and experience – are used to organising events, and more often than not have beautiful and sprawling campuses with ideal locations for performance and presentations. (A beautiful location is, of course, the least of the problems in a place like Shillong which effortlessly combines breath-taking mountainous landscape with picturesque old-world charm.) But the list of schools included a mindboggling variety ranging from these more ‘privileged’ institutions to smaller government and minority schools. Each experience, therefore, proved unique and challenged us to think and improvise anew.

Here is the varied list of schools we performed at:

1. Khasi Jaintia Presbyterian Girls Higher Secondary School (KJP)
2. Seng Khasi Higher Secondary School
3. Laban Bengalee Girls Higher Secondary School
4. St. John Higher Secondary School
5. St. Mary’s Higher Secondary School
6. Auxilium Girls Higher Secondary School
7. Nongthymmai Nepali Higher Secondary School
8. St. Anthony’s Higher Secondary School
9. Lady Keane Girls Higher Secondary School
10. Shillong Jail Road Boys Higher Secondary School

Describing each many-layered experience is an exercise in futility for those who weren’t there, so here are just a few jottings.

Spaces:

A view of the space at Auxilium Convent

Never have we performed in such a variety of spaces in such a short period of time! Several schools had halls or small auditoriums and we performed there in places like KJP, St. Anthony’s and Shillong Jail Road School. But some stages were too small or had unsuitable floors, so the schools had improvised. In Seng Khasi (a school catering to the underprivileged Khasi community) we performed on the somewhat rough floor in front of their stage. Auxilium had shut the doors on their stage and created floor seating for the students who sat facing the back of the hall where we performed on the floor – an ideal set up for an interactive lec-dem. Laban Bengalee School is based in an old typical Shillong wooden house. Their one sizeable hall with wooden floors had been cleared of furniture to accommodate about 60 students at one end and a sprinkling of staff that the other. We performed in them middle facing the students. The curtained makeshift stage behind the staff was turned into our quaint little dressing room!

Performing at St. John's

At Nepali School

In Nepali School we performed on the top floor which used to be the terrace, under what looked like a temporary covering. This was the school which most resembled the government schools we are used to – grey and dusty cement, no grounds, etc. But within that the staff and students had created a space for us to perform with brightly coloured cloth on the walls delineating the performance area. Lady Keane School too had festooned the performance area similarly, and had gone so far as to give the same treatment to the room where we were served lunch! St. John’s seated their students in the open facing a covered stage with a backdrop enlivened by local weaves. But the most unexpected performance venue was at St. Mary’s where we performed in a basketball court for 1500 students with a strong wind for company. That venue located on the lip of a mountain ridge overlooking the most enchanting Himalayan vista will remain etched in our memories, as will the enthusiastic response of all 1500+ students and staff!

Audience Profile

Speaking of audience, I must mention that we had ventured into territory where the large majority of students have never seen any Indian classical dance even on TV, let alone live. There are also associated cultural barriers and reservations which are part and parcel of the socio-cultural history of north-eastern tribes and their relationship with the rest of India. A Khasi friend of mine half-seriously quipped that they are culturally ‘resistant’ to influences from mainstream India. And given the history of how first the British and then other Indian communities took over these tribal belts – a situation that is repeated again and again the world over – this is hardly surprising. Also, tribal and pre-Aryan customs, traditions and myths are being actively co-opted by a brand of Hinduism with a distinct saffron agenda at an alarming rate. This is something we had to be very aware of: we are not and cannot be part of that, and cannot be mistaken to be so. We made it a point to underline at every school both the Hindu and Islamic influences in the history of Kathak, as one of our efforts to underline the plurality of the arts as a space where people come together to share.

Demonstrating gestures, Auxilium

So this was really virgin territory – a challenge that both excited and petrified us. At every school we took a peek at the audience numbers, profile and nature, stamped hard on the floors, tested the sound, took in the atmosphere and then – taking all these into account – decided how to proceed. A basic introductory structure about the history of Kathak, its strong rhythms and movements featured everywhere. But what expressional piece does one perform on a rough basketball court before 1500 eager students? Or before an auditorium full of teenage boys who cannot be blamed for having developed a mental block against classical dance as ‘for women only’? Or for an audience made up of tribal children who are not really familiar with the Krishna-Radha stories whose knowledge we take as a given in the rest of India?

Responses:

Autograph, please! St. Mary's

The audiences varied from 60 girls at Laban Bengalee School to 1500 in St. Mary’s, from co-ed Nepali students At Nepali School to Khasi girls and boys at Seng Khasi, from cosmopolitan mixtures to very specific communities. But everywhere we were brought up short by the responses. As I have indicated, not all students everywhere came in willingly – and that is only to be expected. But there is a hunger in them to at least try something new – and that hunger sadly is disappearing from a place like Calcutta where everything is so easily available and therefore dispensable. Whether they came in expecting to enjoy themselves or be bored to death, I don’t think anyone questioned the value of the programme. And from the overwhelming responses, standing ovations and flood of autograph hunters who besieged us, I flatter myself that we had far more successes than failures. Students and staff have asked us about coming back to lead workshops and create school performances, but for me personally, the most rewarding was when a few young boys of Shillong Jail Road School came up to us to ask for autographs. This school was last on our list and we had rushed through an already curtailed presentation since we had to leave for Guwahati immediately after. But the all-boys audience was utterly engaged and vociferously so.  We departed feeling fulfilled and overwhelmed, and also grateful that such an experience came our way.

The Rhythm Game at Laban

What does it take for the arts to engage a young mind? Fun, fun, fun! They are not and cannot be interested by sanctimonious talk of heritage, cultural responsibility and philosophy, nor can they be mesmerised by demonstrations of the subtle intricacies of the form for any length of time. They need to be wowed, they need to be able to play, they need to shout and laugh. And Kathak can do all of this, as can any other dance or art form. We have to just take it down from the pedestal we put it on and have fun with it ourselves. The rhythm games we played at the outset of each presentation may not always have been a success in the actual creating of a tolerable rhythmic soundscape, but it got every audience member / participant smiling and tapping their feet, listening intently and laughing at the obvious errors being made by the volunteers we had pulled out. The spins, footwork and rhythmic variations we played with caught their attention, and paved the way for them to then be able to respond to pieces of more subtle expressional dance whether of a dancing Radha or a valiant Krishna.

As classical dancers, it is our responsibility to find ways of allowing engagement with our art. All too often we hold it and ourselves up as objects and personalities to be bowed to: indeed we hold it up so high that we lose sight of it ourselves, quite forgetting to enjoy the act of dancing. How then can we expect those watching to enjoy, appreciate or engage with it?


- Vikram Iyengar