Leela Samson — Bharatanatyam pt. 1.

Part one of a series on the classical dance-art of Bharatanatyam. 

As someone who had minimal exposure to Carnatic music while growing up, which by itself cannot be described as ubiquitous, I found the aspect of being exposed to critically acclaimed Bharatanatyam recitals and performances to be not very good. Of course, there used to be the occasional Arangetrams — majorly being done by friends and family, which had to be attended for obvious reasons — but that was it. Padma Subrahmanyam and Yamini Krishnamurthy were known to me merely as names; they were heard being described, but nothing more. In fact, when I started learning music, in a desperate attempt to glorify the art that I was learning, I often said to people, “Ah, dance. Without music, can there be dance?” This pseudo-superiority, fuelled utterly by high ignorance, prevented me from even trying to explore what really was in Bharatanatyam. And in my defence, honestly, I could find no truly revolutionary live events of Bharatanatyam at that time.

I have always had an infatuation with change. I believe change forms the foundation of art. More importantly, I also believe that true art lies beyond the bounds of rules and in the liberal interpretation of structure. I found none of it to be in Bharatanatyam at that time and therefore found myself being averted even farther from it. But then, there were several flaws in my mindset, quite obviously. Without even knowing, let alone understanding, the basic structure of the art, how can one expect to understand or enjoy its liberal artistic interpretation?

My first actual encounter with proper Bharatanatyam was when I found a vintage TM Krishna lecture. He was seen addressing a classroom of university students about the classical arts, in which there was a segment about Bharatanatyam. Projecting onto a screen an example of Bharatanatyam, he showed us Leela Samson dancing the Padam Indendu Vachitivira and interpreted it himself, while teaching us to do so too. After finishing it, I went to rewatch it, and that was it — I was in love.

I am certain that I fell in love with Leela almost instantly and not the art form. She was grace personified. Her art seemed exalted. Deer-like movements, very traditional and yet very artistic. And quite simply, art, beyond all definitions, is fundamentally beauty. Her dance was beautiful; it was art. I saw that she sought perfection firmly, and surprisingly that perfection was not rigid. In every Arangetram that I had gone to, people there too focused on perfection, but I was tired of seeing the mechanicality and rigidity that always accompanied it. I felt refreshed. For once, instead of sweating, I was meditative.

With time, I had become increasingly obsessed with Leela and her art. I sat down and watched all the available videos of her dancing, and the more I watched, the more I was in love. To be a good dancer, I realised, one has to be one with the dance. The more the oneness, the more the art. Leela was very much one with the dance. She danced for perfection, and her dance was indeed perfection. To have revolutionary ideas in the first place is a revolution; to enact it in art is another revolution; and to do it while maintaining tradition is one more revolution. Significant revolutions throughout history have started with art. Revolution belongs with art. And such a revolutionary Leela Samson definitely is.

Leela Samson was a prime disciple of the late dance Guru and architect of modern Bharatanatyam, Smt. Rukmini Devi Arundale, and it is clearly seen that she is a staunch Rukminian. Art without vulgarity was Rukmini Devi’s motto, however controversial, and Leela is a champion of it. I do not wish to write about the modernisation or Sanskritisation of Sadir just because I have taken Rukmini Devi’s name here. There is a lot to write about that subject, and I will do so in upcoming parts. This part is solely about Leela Samson, and I shall stick to my topic.

As a firm student of the Kalakshetra school, Leela has retained several of the school’s fundamental dance principles. This, however, has not stopped Leela from thinking for herself, promoting original thought and creativity, and making magnificent dance recitals. I say even this is an example of Rukminian thought. Had Rukmini Devi not thought of this, we would not have had Bharatanatyam today. Rukmini Devi stated in her famous video interview how she denies the necessity of only following the Margam. She emphasises intellect. To her, if one has the creative intellect to surpass the Margam and still manage to maintain artistry, they are definitely welcome to do so.

It is interesting how Leela shares similarities with Rukmini Devi even regarding her mannerisms. The way she places her hand gently on her cheek while conversing, the poise with which she sits, the comfort, the grace, even the English and the way she speaks are all akin to Rukmini Devi’s mannerisms. I think this is proof enough for me to state that Leela has idolised, admired, and worshipped her Guru, Rukmini Devi. As further proof, she was the first person to write a book on her, too.

Leela is a true artist who loves what she does, and who has dedicated her entire life to it. She introduced me indirectly to Bharatanatyam, and I am very glad that she did. To many more years of making art, I wish you a happy birthday, Leela Samson.

-Nandaki; 7th of May, 2025.