Yamini's emergence as a brilliant dancer on the contemporary stage began with her first performance in Madras in 1957. Prior to that, she studied at Kalakshetra for five years and was trained in Bharatanatyam. She also took part in various dance-dramas choreographed and produced by Rukmini Devi Subsequently, supported by a Government of India scholarship, she pursued further studies under Kanchipuram Ellappa Pillai and Kittappa Pillai of Tanfavur. After completing three years of training under them, she moved to Delhi in 1958 and started giving public performances in the capital. For some time she taught Bharatanatyam at the Sangeet Bharati Institute in Delhi but after that she has concentrated on giving performances. SRUTI Correspondent LEELA SAMSON, herself a dancer, had a long conversation, in two sessions, with Yamini Krishnamurti in New Delhi and filed this report.

She nas reached a stage in her career from where the future cannot get any rosier; when criticism is mounting in the face of new talent and fresh faces; when reality dawns that those sacrifices made in the past are now taking their toll — physically, mentally and emotionally. And yet, Yamini Krishnamurti twenty years in the field and now in twilight, remains undaunted, vibrant and committed. What reserves of physical and emotional energy must she have to have survived the expansionist years of this art form; to have pioneered, even unconsciously perhaps, a. spreading of the style to new horizons; to have firmly pillared it 26 in the North as a style par excellence! Yamini can be faulted on many grounds, but not on these three: her commitment, her vibrancy and her contribution. She has dominated the Indian dance scene for over two decades. She has firmly stamped her arresting presence on the contemporary scene in an incredibly individualistic and totally personal style'. Flashes of her brilliance are keenly watched and imitated.

Her flamboyance and dazzle, her strong line and power of movement, her statuesque poses, her communication of grandeur, her uninhibited and passionate expression of sexuality, her mercurial changes of mood, her distance and arrogance, her bold message — these qualities are what many a dancer has hoped to jimbibe, but cannot have. They "come from a deep storehouse of energy and commitment, of inspiration and anger, of faith and loneliness. She stands alone, for whatever value you wish to give her, in an extremely crowded scene of very pushy dancers. Rumour has always plagued her career. She is clearly more talked about than appreciated, more criticised than understood, more used than valued, and left more scarred than she deserves. Perhaps no other dancer of her eminence would care to talk about her life and art to another dancer ten years her junior and no real journalist at all. as she has done in this case. Rumour again has claimed she is not very voluble; her father had always done the talking. And I might have taken a vicarious pleasure in the rumours proving true! Well, Yamini proves every image I had of her wrong. She is an 'enigma' of sorts — coming across sometimes positive and sometimes negative, but always strong. She has opinions and expresses them. Associates, friends and students cannot sum her up. There are no strong attachments. There is also no hate. What is she all about? Is there a puzzle that remains unsolved? what is her motivation? What are her sorrows? Her father, who passed away recently, was instrumental in establishing her career, especially in the very early years. There were practical problems for a young girl to 'go it alone'. Apart from this, she admits he gave her a dimension and a strong sense of dedication. He moulded her mind, as it were, and in the lonely years of practice, theatres, travel and shows, he remained her only 'great friend". As she says philosophically: "One good friend is better than a hundred bad ones."

I hastily recall his public image, reading out prefaces to her items — vaguely mystical Sanskrit quotations — that became so abundantly profuse in her programme-notes. "Do you not feel that dance should speak for itself? Does it need flowery and often incongruous explanations!'" I ask. "It is after all. the best form,of expression!" "But of course it is," she replies. "However, unlike fairy tales, the rich content of Sanskrit kavya-s — their thematic content, relevance ind their rich philosophy — demand some explanation." The dancer, she feels, is able to research with scholars and musicians. The public is lost to this 'thought process' and stands at a disadvantage in terms of items other than the usual. And Yamini has always been tempted to use themes from Sanskrit texts — which themes, she feels, have a universal approach. However, laughing, she adds in reference to today's trend of talky preludes:

"A really great performer needs no aids. But those who cannot make sense begin to speak. And that's not usually a very aesthetic experience." I ask her about her relationship with her audience and how inspired or not she has felt at shows, for she stands accused ol belittling her spectators and of uncierestimv-iing their sensibilities: "Perhaps you feel vou should only giv. ihem what you think they reserve?" And Yamini's reply to this charge is the crux of her philosophy on dance. She feels the dancer cannot be isolated from her audience. Her primary function and purpose is to communicate. "A painter," she says, "may choose to remain detached. Even a painting can remain isolated.. But dance has to vibrate. Its function is momentary. The joy of its effect must be participated in by the audience immediately." At the same time, a dancer cannot presuppose her inspiration will come from the audience. Her own inner strength must control the process. "An audience cannot dictate terms to a dancer. She must lead them on her journey." "And what do you think of today's audience?" I ask. Yamini is verv tolerant of the Indian scene. Her response is she doesn't even let noisy kids worry her, nor commotion. "But then, what about concentration and mood....?"

"A serene mind does not get disturbed." Further queries on this subject are stopped. "Alright then," I say, shifting gears. "tell me what you think of your contemporaries, other dancers." Among other dancers, interestingly enough, she rates such stalwarts like Birju Maharaj and Shanta Rao. She savs she was overwhelmed by Balasaraswati's art, but found in Shanta Rao "a new excitement" because she was "controversial, fascinating and non imitative." Speaking of Balasaraswati, she says: "There is no defining greatness, one can only experience its sense of joy and inspiration. She was like a fabulous flower. Her talent depressed me because I realised it would be impossible to be like her. After Kandappa's death, Ellappa became a link between Balasaraswati and me as he was teaching me also. Her talent was based on music, which illuminated her pada-s. Her abhinaya floated in the music. Her expressions were arresting, soul satisfying. The audience, stunned into silence, never clapped. And the experience lingered and haunted me. Her hands were poetic. They reminded me of creepers!" For a moment we sit stilled, recalling what is no more, regretting what may never be again. And what about critics? "Well," she observes laconically, "they can identify items." There is a pause. I smile.

Then she continues: "Hut they have ruined, forever, any idea of good or bad dance that may have existed. Their attitude towards the established dancer is negative. They want pampering. and the young dancer of today doesn't have a pride in her own capabilities." Due to the patronization of these critics, the young dancer remains in fear of them and stands professionally exposed. It is an unhealthy situation." "Do you watch dance programmes? What do you think of today's standards?" She considers my question, then concedes that the 'general' standard of dance in the country is good and there is an increased awareness, but asks: "Is that all art can give? Good standard*-' Must it not bring a certain excitement, a charisma?" And then: "Of dancers who can project this quality, there are only a handful. The mass of them merely imitate. That's boring because, more often than not, it's a bad imitation." Even her most conservative critic will concede that Yamini is, in this sense, one of the only dancers in India who believes in and has absorbed into her style a liberty of thought and feeling that transcends the mundane, imitative style of the mass of averagely trained dancers being churned out. However, what is questionable is how far one can go with this liberty of -thought, in what direction and to what purpose. Each has his or her own sensibilities and what we suiter from in India is perhaps a lack of professional choreographers who can ensure performing standards.

Yamini thus drifts from subject to subject as I talk to her, never tiring and always forceful, full of laughter and sharing with me little asides in Tamil, as though a change ol language means a change to go oil the record. She is what collegians would call 'a damn-care' person. She believes in the now and lives for the day. The past is thrown over her shoulder and she does not have regrets that weigh her down. She claims that she is not possessive of her style and it worries her little that, not only her students, but even established dancers imitate her. She parries my concern over such trends and the lack of individuality they spell, and says with a glint in her eye: "Why? It's not an insipid, slow, lousy style. They don't suffer because of it!" And then laughs heartily at her remark. She feels most kids who learn from her are doing so only because of her name. It is always a selfish motive. There is no loyalty. Likewise, she too rarely  shares a sensitive relationship with them. As far as musicians go, she suggests she is tired of their non availability. their growing lack of standard and their demand for high rates when it comes to her. 'How does a good dancer like you hope to be projected through sub standard accompaniment." "Do you think 'tapes' will soon become the order of the day, what with travels abroad and long tours?" She replies: "It wouldn't be fun — but a lot less of a problem." Thus, although she studied with Gowri Amma and learnt various pada-s from her, she performs only a few because the singers today are "so bad"! It dawns on me then Yamini has not yet once mentioned Rukmini Devi, or Kalakshetra where in fact she had received her early training. So I ask her who her gurus were. Pat comes the reply: "Ellappa and Kittappa Pillai. Kittappa has great dignity of style. Gowri Amma taught me abhinaya. She was fantastic." I prod: "But what about Kalakshetra? What are your memories of the institution? What do you think of the training?" "Kalakshetra is excellent for training," says she.

"All such institutions propose to impart a sort of democratic even standard of training to all. Kalakshetra does even better than that. The training is of a high standard. One does not expect more than this from any centre. '.( develops stamina and a sense o routine — both positive inlluei ces lor such a career. True art car not at lord to stop at that, can it? But what most institutions (are less about is bringing out any individual spark in their students. 1 believe ultimately one's individual salvation is dependent totally on one's own endowments and inspiration from within. Kalakshetra offers a total discipline, a commitment beyond just classroom work; it helps to give one direction. Right through my career I have benefited from that discipline." "And your relationship with Athai?" "Well," she says "it was and still is very formal. 1 was too young and too scared to approach her then. And anyway, it is in my nature not to get too close to anyone. Close or constant attachment is full of burdens. A certain detachment helps. I do not like getting preoccupied with relationships or memories. They weigh you down!" "What were the restriction then, upon you then.-'' "Early years for a girl in India are u stupidly awkward age! One is made almost helpless, parental influence being so tremendous. There are so many doubts and one is so impressionable. Girls suffer the most. It might even help to have an orphan-like conditioning for girls. Conservative society does not expect, nor allow for defiance ol any kind from a young girl. So one thinks of a devious escape from such a situation. Both Kalakshetra and my home Were conservative in this sense. They closed me in." It strikes me that it is perhaps this background she rebels against in her dancing. All fetters seem broken, all rules defied. She has gained for herself a freedom that challenges questioning. Yamini continues her explanation: 

"I admired and was very close to Sarada [Hoffman] who was my teacher. She was excellent. She had a clear, precise mind and was very austere. Besides she had an ascetic quality about her which was very appealing to me at the time. Therefore, when she married — and a foreigner at that — I couldn't sleep for a couple of nights, I was so shocked and in a sense disillusioned. I was attached to her though and probably still have some letters she wrote to me from Madurai, in the holidays. However, I later realised about Kalakshetra that one can easily become a snob in such an atmosphere. "1 feel for Rukmini Athai herself the most exciting period was during the initial struggle. Once routine sets in standard and brilliance fall." I ask her about her memories of those early student days. She throws her thoughts back and says: "Authority at home and at Kalakshetra during that period was confining. For a girl is seemed normal human.growth was wrong. I recall my mother always made two 'pinnals' [ plaits] for me since my hair was so thick. At Kalakshetra, Padmasani teacher insisted on one 'pinnal' and used to invariably remove the two and redo my hair. This went on till ultimately it got me so guilty that I used to leave the house with two pinnals' and, before I entered the Kalakshetra gate, I undid them and made one plait. The procedure reversed itself on the return journey! That was perhaps the only clash between home and Kalakshetra. Otherwise they were alike! But it stuck in my head and now, believe it or not, I hate two 'pinnals'. I am moved to doing the same thing as Padu teacher did when any of my students come to class like that. So much for influences!"

Back from the past, I query her about her taking up more than one classical dance form, the adjustments she had to make and the new trend this has sparked off. She defends her branching off into Kuchipudi and Odissi as responses to the demands of the time. She insists she was the one to introduce Kuchipudi to the North and make it acceptable where it had no credibility earlier. She relates how her father, helping her. had painstakingly given lectures on it for three long years in pockets of the North, making it slowly both acceptable and popular. "But history gets smudged and upstarts make glorious claims now. I was the first to do it. Others only imitated me." I accept her claim to the propagation of Kuchipudi in the North but ask: "What do you think are the pros and cons of this double and triple career pattern? Most of you our top dancers seem to set the example! Is it right, do you think?" "Well, it means longer hours of work," she says, "and for sure a strain on the dancer who has to handle different sets of musicians, costumes and practise sessions. But one's understanding and appreciation of one's own style {which one?] becomes abundantly clear. So it has its advantages." "But how do you maintain the distinction between Bharatanatyam Kuchipudi and Odissi? Which one do you feel most confident in? Which do you enjoy the most? Is it possible to achieve mastery over all of them?" "Well, I think people prefer my Kuchipudi. It is a style that suits my nature and personality. I have managed to keep each of these apart. It is technically possible to do this. But naturally you cannot go beyond a point.

Bharatanatyam is'heavier' than Odissi in content and treatment. Odissi requires lighter treatment. When you have 30 written an epic, a sonnet is no big thing! One has to be sensitive enough, though, to vary the treatment as required. Each style requires a different level of output. However I feel a dancer is either good or bad. If you are a bad cook, anything you cook is bad. If on the other hand, you are good at one kind of cooking, it is possible to vary the fare with success." I want very much to know about Yamini's items and the kind of things she likes to do. She says varna-s are her favourite item. She loves the variety and challenge in them. Possibly she has done the maximum number of varna-s that any dancer has attempted. The traditional compositions are so rich in musical content and meaning that they inspire the dancer to visualize each piece and want to do it. Music, she says, directs the dancer, especially in her conceptualization. While she has been performing all the traditional repertoire, she does not like tillana-s too much. Yamini has had so many nattuvanars, it has forced her to expand her repertoire.

Everytime a new nattuvanar came to her, she learnt his items and this avoided the complications of teaching him a different nattuvanar's setting. Ellappa taught her quite a few items from Kandappa's parampara. Yamini feels that 'teamwork' is the spine of a good programme, especially if one wants to present a varied fare and new work. But having the musicians at home is a privilege that very few dancers today enjoy. I am, by now intrigued by Yamini's total involvement in the subject and a strange calm that seems to hold her together through the discussion. There is a peace in all • that vibrancy. }>ervading and contradicting her otherwise bold message. Self-assurance I had expected. But this isolation, I had not imagined could be true! Quietly I ask: "Are you religious?" She ponders a bit, drops her head to one side and says: "I believe in certain things. Poojas are really more aesthetic than religious. And I appreciate their value in that context. To run to God only when in trouble is hypocritical. We ought to be beautiful human beings. As for me, when a storm hits, I just go blank. I slop thinking. This is a blessing in disguise. It numbs the sorrow and confusion and gives me time to react." It is sincerely said and I pause to think about it. "What about aesthetics?" I ask. "In costume, on stage, in presentation? Is the understatement not a suitable backdrop for the classical arts? Can't we consider a vibrant display of costume, jewellery and the dance itself as being showmanship ?" I suggest she is largely responsible for the new trend in tight Bharatanatyam costumes. But Yamini makes no claim to the fan-costume and pyjama-costume that she is said to have popularised. She says: "Athai [Rukmini Devi] designed the first one. Ramgopal wore it first, not me."

Then she recalls with much amusement an incident of her early performing years. "I went once to Bala's programme at the Rasika Ranjani Sabha in Madras. I was so mesmerized by her dance I insisted I wanted a costume exactly like hers. Bala had little clothes-sense. She had worn a black satin 'pathan pyjama' and so Ellappa was horrified at my request. But I insisted I must have it. Amarjyoti made me a mustard version of the same thing and I wore it incessantly for two years! Later I realised it was not very nice after all and put it away. That was how much I admired the great artiste!" "What about image-building, public relations and showmanship? How much thought do you give to it?" Showmanship, she replies, is a very confusing term. "1 believe in charisma. This I know must exist for any performing artiste. Style or fashion is not important. Christ was charismatic by birth. People talk of charisma today, in terms of 'showmanship' and 'sex appeal'. People say I have sex appeal. Sex appeal should come naturally; it should need no extra effort. Anyway, I did not coin the term! It is obviously a term that sells. If so, Lord Venkateswara has it too, because he has charisma. Call it what you like, the term is a vulgar sale of a very innate and appealing quality" Any person, especially an artiste, Yamini feels, must have a built-in beauty. "How does one actually acquire showmanship? What does one do with it? You could have a slick production in every other way but, without good technique, of what use is showmanship? Yet I can sit anywhere without doing anything, and still give joy. The viewer says I look 'sexy'. What can I do except laugh at it? It has been denounced in reviews. But I do not consciously perfect this. It is perhaps my throb, my nature, my physical endowments and temperament. Others use it for their gain. With me, it's natural... I don't put it on." What is wrong with that?

The subject of my Vedic Experience was rather unusual. One cannot say it had a theme — rather it was string of concepts, a wondering at the world's creation. It was meant to be like an anthology or collection of poetry, not a ballet. No heroine nor villain. It had a much more delicate fragrance. I did not use extensive technique. It was simple. The critics however took an unusual turn. The whole thing was confused and got controversial. People always expect excitment from me. They were heard saying: / thought she was great, but she isn 7. Of course it can be improved upon. But I won't accept it was a flop. The ballet according to some was a big failure, but I am glad it was not a cheap success either! The East West Encounter was a bogus affair. It was an eye-opener to me. People abused me openly. But I can carry my own cross. At least I know now who my friends are! And anyway, opposition merely irritates me. Sometimes even amuses me!" Only two films have been made in India on solo dancers. One was made by Satyajit Ray on Balasaraswati and financed by the Government of Tamil Nadu and the National Centre for Performing Arts.

The other was made by Balwant Gargi on Yamini for the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting of the Government of India. Both films are under a shroud of controversy and bad publicity, and the creators have been challenged. It is moot whether either of them has captured the magic of the artistes concerned. Film makers tend to pursue their own visions. I ask Yamini about the films and what she thought of them. She believes the film on her could have been first rate and maintains she went into the project in extreme good faith, hopeful of such result. The photography, she believes, was good, but obviously that was not enough. Gargi did not seem to have enough respect lor dance. He was apparently in a hurry to complete the job. He denied himself the time required for such a job. "He excluded my Kuchipudi, which is part of me and a measure of my contribution to the dance field. He wanted to minimise expenses. The whole attitude, the spirit of the project, was wrong. He did not understand my need for audience for inspiration, lor time to put together all my best ideas."

So what resulted lacked soul. It is the same, she feels, with Bala's film. It was ridiculous to have her talking in a language [English] she was never familiar with and why talk at all? She was a simple person, given to no great philosophy. Her best language was her art. Yamini feels they ought to have sat her down in front of an idol, or image or temple-shrine, and just filmed lengths of expression and abhinaya, as the mood took her, singing and emoting . simultaneously, as she was wont to do. And not Krishna nee be-gane which Yamini says, was never her best padam. but memorable ones like Ettanaichonnalum. "Instead they put her on a windy beach and she is seen constantly holding down her billowing saree! What else do you expect from a ladv of her age and stature.-' Also Kay had her eating at a table with the iamily and playing dice with her grandchild. Who is interested in that side of her?"

Yamini has travelled wide and far. Almost every year lor the past couple oi decades, she has represented India at festivals and forums all over the world. All of.it has made her more subjective. She depends more upon her inner urge and satisfaction these days rather than on public response. She has a strong and affectionate following in Rome and she cherishes that rapport which is so difficult to establish with a 'new audience'. She does not believe Bharatanatyam needs support in the sense of combining it with other fare. It has a unique totality and any artiste who is capable of lacing and holding an audience alone should be presented. I press now for an assessment ol her role in giving shape and direction to the contemporary dance scene. She tosses her hair over her shoulder characteristically and says: "I'm unpredictable. I'm dynamic. I am fond oi speed and vitality- I cannot do things slowly. My temperament and my thoughts, they speak. I display on stage what I feel and it comes through. I must have change. I do not like to get stuck in a groove. I will continue to dance and to present Vedic Experience and will prove it popular! I do not care for pseudo assessments ol mv style. Jl dancers wish to follow me, they must be bold, vibrant and daring. They are making Bharatanatyam an insipid style. We must illuminate, not illustrate, dance! My dance speaks for itself. I have danced in pockets all over the country and in almost every country abroad. I have sweated and sacrificed. But there are.no regrets. I escape into my dance. I am aware ol a total surrender. Life is lull ol problems for most people. A dancer has her share ol them. But I believe in what I am doing. I do not consciously set trends'. II people follow me, it's their own decision. And their own risk, too!" And she laughs...!

                                                                                                                                                                        - Leela Samson