On a late evening in 1994, in the shadow of the Brihadeeswara Temple in Thanjavur, a twenty-something Bharatanatyam dancer stood on an open-air stage before the towering Nandi.

What she did next was unusual for a classical performance at the time. 

Before beginning each dance piece, she paused and spoke to the audience in Tamil, explaining the story, emotion, and meaning behind the movements so they could follow the performance. 

At a time when Bharatanatyam performances rarely paused for explanation, she brought a narrative, audience-first approach to the stage. It was a small but meaningful shift — one that would go on to change the way many people experienced classical arts.

When the performance ended, an elderly man walked up to her. “He had tears in his eyes,” recalls Vidya Bhavani Suresh, now 56.

“He gave me Rs 11, which was a significant amount then. I was so deeply touched.” For her, the moment was affirming. “That was a sign that I was on the right track.”

More than three decades later, that instinct, to explain, to include, and to make people feel they belong, has become the foundation of Vidya’s work. She follows a simple belief: classical art reaches people more deeply when they are helped to understand it. 

Do you feel left out while watching classical performances?

For many people watching Bharatanatyam or listening to Carnatic music for the first time, the experience can feel slightly intimidating.

You may be sitting in the audience, watching people around you nod, smile, or respond to something in the performance, while you are still trying to understand what is happening.

Part of this comes from the way a Bharatanatyam recital is usually structured. It follows a set order, with pieces such as alarippu, jatiswaram, varnam, and padam. Each piece brings together footwork, hand gestures, facial expressions, rhythm, music, and storytelling.

Through these movements and expressions, the dancer is often telling a story from mythology or devotional poetry. The songs may be in Tamil, Telugu, or Sanskrit, and they carry their own meaning, emotion, and literary beauty.

But when the language, story, or context is unfamiliar, much of this can be difficult to follow.

The audience is often expected to already know the story or understand it through abhinaya (expressions and gestures). For those trained in the art form, this can be a rich and deeply moving experience. For many others, it can feel like they are watching something beautiful from a distance, without being fully let in.

Carnatic music concerts can also create a distance like this. A singer may move from one composition to another, or begin an improvisation, without explaining the raga or the meaning of the lyrics.

For regular listeners, recognising a raga can be part of the joy of the........

© The Better India