I have always been something of a contrarian, easily seeing the other side of a debate and able to appreciate and make the case for either side. Helpful in school debate societies, less so when siblings would think I “was on the other side” articulating the other’s perspectives.
When it comes to dancing, with or without a professional career as a goal, I could make a strong case for not pursuing aspirations in this direction. A financially successful professional career in dance can be almost as elusive as an Olympic medal. Unless you come from a family parampara in the arts to aid your development and launch into orbit, you will be dancing through a minefield without a metal detector.
But today I want to encourage everyone who wants to dance (or pursue any other passion) to follow their joy. I feel sad when I read the statistics and statements of those at the end of their lives mostly regretting what they hadn’t done.
I have often quoted legendary choreographer Agnes de Mille’s response to the question: Should I be a dancer “If you have to ask, then the answer is no”. This supports the idea that anything less than an all consuming passion to dance suggests you might find a happier life in another profession. The contrarian in me points out that uncertainties and reflections can actually enhance the strength of pushing through real and imagined barriers to following our dreams.
Rephrasing “Should I be a dancer to “Should I dance ” shifts the paradigm. I decided at the age of 13 that a career in dance was out of the question. No one could be more surprised than me to find myself in India after 43 years, still dancing.
At 13, I loved to dance but not more than I loved literature, social activism, puppetry, art and attending performances. At the time, it seemed clear to me that a commitment to a dance career would exclude any time for the other things I loved. My long term plan was to be an arts administrator of a museum performance and educational department similar to that of the Detroit Institute of Arts. I figured humanities and they’re with perhaps a PhD in puppetry might be logical.
Yet I continued to dance without career aspirations because I loved it. Along with other interests, this somehow added up to 17 years of modern dance and ballet along with a smattering of other classical and folk dance traditions of the world before I came to India. Even then, I considered my Fulbright to continue Manipuri dance as a cultural entre to a sojourn in India rather than any absurd aspiration to become a recognised performing artist of Indian classical dance.
Both in India and in my earlier years, I danced for the joy of learning and the connection to myself, audience and the teacher or guru through the process. My experience, that I wish everyone could share, is that allowing yourself to dance, or follow any creative, artistic path you love, is one of the greatest satisfactions of a life lived fully with no regrets at the end. Of course, the motivation is crucial. When you love the Dance, love to dance, love to share this love, without primary motivation of ego or commercial values then, as expounded in Gita and other philosophical texts, the rewards will come to you minus contaminated karmas.
When I was 12, the Jewish Parent’s Institute of Detroit invited me to teach Israeli folk dance to all their classes. This was after my participation in a group dance performance as part of their non-religious Sunday school graduation. I loved learning a whole repertoire to share and taught throughout high school.
I never missed an opportunity to join folk dance weekend camps or weekly groups whether Balkan, Israeli, Asian or American. A career path teaching or performing was irrelevant to the joy of dancing another cultural physicality. Connecting with others through folk dance is a great pleasure. The steps are easy but the energy and motion are minutely culturally specific. I treasure inspiring a non dancing teenage Santali girl in Shantiniketan to gain courage to dance when she saw my example of how easy it was to meld with the gentle rhythm of the group, much to the relief and delight of her mother!
A brief conversation with Mary Hill, ballet instructor for the World renowned Alvin Ailey American Dance Company, left a lasting imprint on me in 1978. My 1973 Fulbright year had extended to 2 and I had taken the plunge to dip my toes (and finally body and soul) into Odissi and Mayurbhanj Chhau in that second year. With no intention to learn more of Odissi than useful for a comparative lecture-demonstration, I had promised my Manipuri guru, Singhajit Singh to stop if he saw any impact on Manipur. The profoundly lyrical and challenging Mayurbhanj Chhau drew on the 17 years earlier training in a new genre and felt wonderful.
After five years of Manipuri and three of Odissi and Chhau, I was planning to return to the USA. At the post Ailey dance performance reception at Roosevelt House Mary Hill asked me what my stateside plans were. I replied with what felt like rational appropriate self-deprecating logic that I would hope to perhaps teach. “But don’t you want to dance! ” It was like a flash of lightening that revealed so much truth. Yes, actually, I did want to dance. All the phenomenal Alvin Ailey dancers had ignored the voices that said it wasn’t possible, not practical, and that was an essential part of what made it possible to share their love of dance all over the world.
With that clarity, I returned to India for the opportunity to grow further as a classical Indian dancer only after I had literally worn out costumes with over 200 school lecture-demonstrations on top of a respectable number of solo performances of Manipuri, Odissi and Chhau and teaching both Manipuri and Odissi till my students could offer a recital.
With or without encouragement, if you love to dance, let nothing stop you. When I danced at Kala Mandir in 1978, HMV director Biman Ghosh told me that I was already in the top 10 per cent of classical dancers but would never get recognition because I was a foreigner. So what I had no expectations, no sense of entitlement, simply grateful to learn and grow and share when possible. Though I studied Manipuri at Triveni Kala Sangam and Mayurbhanj Chhau at Bharatiya Kala Kendra, neither institution included me in their annual student recitals because I was a foreigner. This extreme bias is now gone and I’m delighted to see videshi students routinely included these. On the other hand, at my pre-departure 1978 studio recording, my Odissi guru, Kelubabu, instructed the musicians to continue recording eight additional unlearnt compositions to save me future recording costs. He both trusted that I would not use the music until he taught me the dances and continually encouraged me to dance by playing mardala for my performances whenever he could.
Of course I had difficulties and of course wise friends in American academia advised me a university career at home would be much more rewarding that continuing my pursuit of excellence in dance in India; a straight road to a dead-end brick wall. I heard them, but was so encouraged by the guru kripa, the generous kindness of my Odissi and Chhau gurus that I eventually decided to stay in India and Indian dance as long as I was welcome and felt it was worthwhile. I am frankly overwhelmed by the goodwill and respect I receive simply for doing what I loved.
At times I feel guilty that about not contributing more to the world, researching a cure for cancer or giving voice to the voiceless. Yet anyone who gives their effort and talents as best they can need have no regrets, whether it is healing and providing light thorough dance or standup comedy or any giving. If in doubt, don’t hesitate, dance. Follow any dance you love with joy and curiosity and integrity. It will heal what ails you to a surprising extent. Living in the margins of your life is incremental suicide. Go live, go dance!
Sharon Lowen is a respected exponent of Odissi, Manipuri and Mayurbhanj and Seraikella Chau whose four-decade career in India was preceded by 17 years of modern dance and ballet in the US and an MA in dance from the University of Michigan. She can be contacted at sharonlowen.workshop@gmail.com
