‘Privileged to learn dance'
GOWRI RAMNARAYAN
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Suresh Sridhar had talent and opportunities aplenty, but could not make it as a solo dancer. Why?
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Committed: Suresh Sridhar
Spare of speech and thoughtful with words, Suresh Sridhar is a Bharatanatyam dancer with a school of his own in Shenoy Nagar. “A floating crowd. Few are dedicated enough to persist. Some do resume after Class XII or graduation. I find children more interested in Western than Indian classical dance. It's frustrating. Parents too don't urge them to excel in the art, only to perform.”
So far only one of the parents has offered to support her child in a dance career. They mostly see it as a part time pursuit. “I tell my students that they should be as committed to dance as to their studies, as some day it might come to their rescue as a source of earning.” Suresh is amazed that no disciple thinks (as he did) that it is a privilege and honour to have the opportunity to learn dance. His family with four sisters shifted to Kerala while Suresh was a child. Watching all the dancing at temple and festival celebrations was to be inspired to emulate. Though his mother dismissed his announcement of wanting to be a dancer as an idle fancy, the boy found his interest fanned at school where teachers ensured that he participated in every dance at school shows.
This led to training with Kalakshetra alumnus Ramankutty Asan and Latha Raj, a disciple of the Dhananjayans, who encouraged him to take up dancing as a profession. When the Dhananjayans came to stage their ‘Karuna' in Thiruvananthapuram, the eager boy was given a small role as a monk.
Meeting the maestro
In 1990 Suresh, enrolled himself in the Dhananjayans' Bharatakalanjali, with all-day classes for himself and giving evening classes for children. Any adjustment problems? “Oh yes. I was so used to being the best back home. So it was tough to be among excellent professionals!” he laughs. A boost came when Dhananjayan cast him in Pandit Ravishankar's ballet ‘Ghanashyam.' Touring with the sitar maestro in India and the U.S. was exaltation. “A Palestinian, whom I met by chance, was amazed that I knew so great an artist. He actually trembled when I introduced him to Panditji.”
Suresh confesses that mentor and senior colleague Chalapati advised him to mellow down, as all the special treatment at home as the only son had made him demanding. With loving gratitude, he mentions J. Suryanarayana Murthy who gave up his much-needed breakfast breaks to give the boy extra coaching. “All free! Then I'd go down and Sreelatha (now Vinod) would work me to death with another rigorous session.”
About his gurus, Suresh is nothing but ecstatic. “Shanta akka's patience was phenomenal. She cared about every detail. I'd give anything to be in Sir's class. He came up with different ideas each time. The next day he wouldn't remember them but find new interpretations.” Once, the guru said, “Your expression has improved.” Suresh looked back to see who was being praised. When he saw no one, and realised that the words were for him, he was overwhelmed.
At another time, when everyone wondered at Suresh being cast as Duryodhana in ‘Mahabharatam,' Dhananjayan said, “Only he can do it.” Viewers in the U.S who saw him without make-up never recognised serene Suresh as the raging Duryodhana, but thought he was a stagehand! When the guru praised others after a particularly good show, Suresh did pick up courage to ask, “What about me?” He treasures the answer: “Haven't I got my arm across your shoulder?”
Suresh managed to graduate, got lucky in wife Rajini, a disciple of Natanamani Balu, and a distant relative of his guru Shanta. “I'm now really a part of their family,” he exults. Job stints in Singapore and the U.S. did not work out. Suresh decided to concentrate on his dance school in Chennai. Performances are confined to nattuvangam, and a couple of shows in temples every year.
Despite his early promise in solo shows, and his acclaim for various roles in dance dramas, Suresh's own career as a dancer has not taken off as expected. He remembers a wonderful collaboration with Boston-based Jyoti Raghavan in ‘Kanya', playing six poets, from Vatsayana to Bharatiar, which involved speaking as well. Reviews called him the ‘honey-tongued narrator.' Jyoti had even suggested that he should take up theatre. But “I gave up performing in 1999. Once out of the circuit, it is impossible to get in again. Now I don't even get opportunities to dance in groups, and get recharged by working with artists of calibre.”
It is difficult not to be depressed when friends say that people should be chasing an artist with his experience. “But no opportunity comes knocking at my door!”
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