The Kalakshetra Foundation’s Rukmini Devi College of Fine Arts in Chennai, India’s premier institute for classical dance and music, is embroiled in an ugly row over allegations of sexual harassment against senior male faculty members. On April 3, Chennai police arrested Hari Padman, one of the main accused and a senior instructor at Kalakshetra, after protests by students. The complaints of sexual harassment came into the public domain when Kalakshetra’s former director Leela Samson wrote a Facebook post (now deleted) in December 2022 about how several students were facing sexual harassment under a teacher abusing his position of power.
To deem something classical is to attribute a quality of timelessness to it, that it has seen eras unfold but sustained the ground to survive. However, it is the pedagogy of the Indian arts that took a beating in the process of preserving the classical. (Shutterstock)
Initially, the Kalakshetra administration did not support the students’ cry for justice. It was outright dismissive. On March 19, the college administration said their internal complaints committee found no truth in these allegations. The institute also said in its official statement, “Gossiping, spreading rumours and bad-mouthing are incredibly toxic in a learning environment.”
However, Kalakshetra is not the only institution dismissing such allegations. In September 2020, 90 students alleged sexual harassment and exploitation by the Gundecha Brothers - Akhilesh and his late brother, Ramakanth. In addition, they alleged an environment of toxicity inside the revered Dhrupad Sansthan, Bhopal, with many saying that seniors reprimanded them for going against their gurus.
Recently, dancer and activist Nrithya Pillai also highlighted how the Kalakshetra allegations are merely the tip of the iceberg and that the real problem lies in hierarchies of caste, class, and gender within the classical world.
Even in all its glory and recognition from the State, the “classical” in India is an umbrella term for hierarchies reproduced within the arts. One of the main aspects of this is the “guru-shishya parampara”, which has shadowed the teaching and learning of the arts in India for centuries.
Essentially, the parampara was equivalent to a lifestyle where one went to the teacher or guru’s house, learnt from dawn to dusk, and shared meals, philosophies, and conversations. The same parampara normalised Ekalavya offering his thumb as guru dakshina to Dronacharya. Not surprisingly, this episode from a grand epic has spiralled into a notion that expects an unwavering reverence towards the teacher.
To deem something classical is to attribute a quality of timelessness to it, that it has seen eras unfold but sustained the ground to survive. However, it is the pedagogy of the Indian arts that took a beating in the process of preserving the classical.
The guru-shishya parampara’s pedagogy must be equipped to accommodate or even understand the modern-day student. It shames the student’s independence and individuality and thwarts any scope of progression towards either. It sweeps the idea of questioning, central to learning, under the carpet to follow a path of complete submission. It limits teaching and learning to a linear narrative of passing down pre-existing knowledge.
In the case of Indian classical dance, this pedagogy also creates a sense of ownership over students’ bodies. It allows the teacher to judge the body as masculine or feminine, soft or hard, straight or bent, heroic or cowardly, among many other binaries, perpetuating the need to fit in.
Unlike the other arts, dance often requires the teacher to touch the pupil’s body parts (limbs) to correct technique and posture. This is usually done without consent, so the teacher might pull or push the arm or throw the thattukali (wooden stick) at the student’s feet for not remembering a step.
Rather than an inclusive pedagogy that accords agency, students are often left at the teacher’s mercy and disposition. Within a systemic hierarchy, students in places like Kalakshetra, where the art is approached with more seriousness and, from the point of view of obtaining certification, are caught between the shackles of an archaic and oppressive tradition and their artistic aspirations. Similar to other spaces where sexual harassment is a concern, students are often forced to remain silent for the sake of their careers.
Unsurprisingly, even with the uproar surrounding the case at Kalakshetra, very few well-known dancers and musicians have spoken up for reasons of devotion and reverence.
It should not have taken protests and social media trials of students at Kalakshetra to be heard because their teachers violated their safe space. Instead of more institutions and institutionalisation of the arts, the classical world needs a pedagogical intervention that does not hide behind the garb of the guru-shishya parampara to perpetuate violence on vulnerable bodies.
Anuradha Vellat is a Chief Content Producer with Hindustan Times. She is a trained dancer and writes on arts and culture.
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