Satyajit Ray was not a purist
he simply loved art
11. The number of times auteur film director Satyajit Ray watched Kalpana, India’s first dance film. Ray had a peculiar fascination for dance. Seen in his work in Bala (1976) a film about legendary Bharatnatyam dancer Tanjore Balasaraswati or even in Jalsaghar or The Music Room (1958). Dance in Ray’s films were not your regular segways into titillating entertainment pieces, dance and music were built into the fabric of his films in a manner that was natural. He was not tone deaf. He thought this himself. And his cinematic structures, as he has spoken about in the past, are testament to that; they are akin to musical structures.
Ray’s films are remembered for depicting classical dance in its pure form. Pieces in Shatranj ke Khiladi and Jalsaghar feel like stage pieces that have been picked up for the camera. To most, the bhadralok director looks to be a purist of the forms.
Roshan Kumari’s tirvat in Jalsaghar was a culturally significant moment. The film follows the decline of the zamindari system in India. The form of entertainment of the time: classical music and dance performances known as baithaks. The decline of the zamindar in Jalsaghar is shown through the iconic dance and music sequences in the film. These baithaks were thought to be a sign of opulence and celebration. As their riches declined, so did the performances.
In Jalsaghar, Roshan Kumari presents a tirvat, a traditional piece from the Jaipur gharana of Kathak. It is categorised as a pure-dance piece or nritta; a rare sight in Indian cinema where usually an expressive piece such as a thumri is employed. While Indian cinema has seen a lot of Kathak, it has mostly seen only the expressive pieces. While capturing this tirvat, Ray’s camera stays at a distance. He engages the audience with a wonderfully framed wide shot that includes in its boundaries the performer, the accompanists, the audience and a mirror. The longer you watch the frame, which Ray’s camera allows you to do, the more you notice the background elements; the mirror, the coming and going of servants, a man fanning the audience, the rapture with which the men are watching Roshan Kumari’s dancing and of course, the dance itself. It is unadulterated .His camera simply looks on as Roshan Kumari showcases her hold over the form. As Roshan Kumari starts taking pirouettes, the camera begins to move in. By the end of the camera movement we see her spins in a wide mid shot. We only cut when one segment of the dance is complete and the kavit or poetic composition begins. Each part in the musical structure is punctuated with a cut on film. With minimal cuts and camera movements, Ray says all that he needs to.
He does something similar in Saswati Sen’s performance in Shatranj ke Khiladi, a story adapted from the short story written by Hindi writer Premchand. It follows in parallel the decline of the Nawab of Awadh Wajid Ali Shah and a chess game. In Kanha Main Tose Hari, a traditional thumri from the Lucknow gharana of Kathak, the beauty of this school is showcased. The smaller gestures, gentler movements, and nazaakat or grace can only be captured from up close. The piece is an emotive one and so Ray, for most of the song, frames Sen in a mid shot, hands and face in focus. Her expressions and quick turn of the wrists, batting of the eyelids and most importantly, her breath is captured. In contrast, Kumari’s dance was framed in its entirety due to her dynamic foot action, an intricacy of the Jaipur Gharana. One wonders whether Ray knew of these intricacies of the two gharanas before shooting it or whether he simply followed the movement.
Ray really presented the classical forms in its unadulterated glory. He didn’t choose actors who could dance for the roles, he chose dancers. This decision can be seen even while presenting classical music on screen; the brilliant thumri and ghazal singer Begum Akhtar was in Jalsaghar while Ustad Vilayat Khan, the sitarist, set the music. He brought together the cream of Indian classical dance and music to his films.
He keeps every aspect of the classical so honest, so pure. But, was he a purist? I would argue not. An article by the Telegraph speaks to his myriad musical influences; from classical to bengali folk, jatra to mozart; Ray was no foreigner to varying structures, influences, or the art of pure joy. This shows in a brilliant, mind-expanding sequence in one of my personal favourite films; Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne, a fantasy film following Goopy and Bagha’s journey to becoming musicians. The film is an adaptation of Ray's grandfather, Upendkishore Ray’s, story.
The Dance of Ghosts or in Bengali bhooter naach is a dance sequence presented by the king of ghosts for Goopy and Bagha. In the sequence, Ray showcases a hierarchy of ghosts; the ruling class, peasants, farmers and even kings appear as ghosts. The music for the piece is a composition based in Carnatic music. We hear everything from the ghatam, the mridangam, the manjira and the moresing. Traditionally, the dance performed to this type of music would be Bharatanatyam or even Kuchipudi. But the dance is anything but traditional. Choreographer Shambhu Bhattacharya was able to create a style using references from classical forms yet giving it a completely new touch. It may not have been his intention but I saw some movements similar to Kandyan dancing, one of Sri Lanka’s dance traditions, in there as well. Each class of ghosts were given a distinct movement quality. Along with different costuming, framing and music, the dance added something essential to the sequence: character. Calling this dance fusion would not be accurate. It isn’t. It is something that stands out on its own. In true Ray fashion, the movements suited the concept and context in which it was placed. It inferred from dance movements but was in service to the film’s concept. Ray’s multitude of influences and hiis ability to choose appropriate collaborators is perfectly seen in the creativity oozing out of this sequence.
His ability to see art without its boundaries is what stands out most .It should not then come as a shock that Ray, as he was enamoured by the beauty of Balasaraswati, was also enamoured by the beauty of Kalpana, modernist choreographer and dancer Uday Shankar’s first dance film. The film itself showcases Shankar’s iconic style. It cannot be called fusion because it isn’t, it is a style of its own; a contemporary-Indian style. Once again, inferring from the classical but representing it in a different flavour. These artists are not dogmatic as some of the classical styles and their practitioners can be, they are open to movement. As was Ray, influenced by dance and music to create stories always on the brink of some change.