When Nataraja met Christ in music

To me, both these songs appeal as a quest for harnessing the energy that lies within each of us, the power to enjoy every given moment

On this Christmas Day as I write, my musical discoveries are abundant. Amongst many elements, I discovered with renewed conviction the proximity between faith and music. In collaborating with the Benedictine Sisters’ choir in Florida on Hindu songs and Catholic Gregorian chants, I expanded my own understanding as we worked together on the concert repertoire.

We chose a song on dance that visualised the divinity as the dancer. The allegory of dance to symbolise the movement of the world and of the continuity of life could not have had a better match than with my Idadu Paadam Thooki – a song encapsulating the grandeur of Nataraja as he lifts one left and dances in abandon.

Dance then, wherever you may be / For I am the Lord of the Dance, said he! Both lyrics transcended the worldly in more ways than one and reiterated the uniting of the spiritual and the earthly. Sydney Carter based his Lord of the Dance on the American Shaker song Simple Gifts. This is Nataraja! I exclaimed to Sister Dianne. To me, it was the song of the dancing god, of Nataraja in all the dimensions that I knew through Carnatic music and dance.

To my surprise and delight, I learnt much after the performance though, that Carter was inspired by a Nataraja statue that sat on his desk. I loved the tune and the quiet energy that the song conveyed. And I came down from heaven, And I danced on the earth. We could not have come any closer than that to the celestial Tandavam that came down to earth. Sydney Carter sums it up better than I do. “Unknown to me, it touched a chord ( ). By Christ I mean not only Jesus; in other times and places, other planets, there may be other Lords of the Dance.”

To me, both these songs appeal as a quest for harnessing the energy that lies within each of us, the power to enjoy every given moment, to make our own patterns in life, like in dance and music.

Another beautiful comparison was the hymn Let there be Peace on Earth. A signature song devoted to harmony and peace, it ran parallel to the call of peace in Carnatic’s undying favourite Shanti Nilava Vendum. And of course, the ode to the Mother, in the form of the ancient Salve Regina along the numerous Carnatic compositions on the goddess, only made the intent deeper and the proximity sharper.

My most preferred one was the ode to nature, Canticle of the Sun. Staying as I was in the lap of nature in Florida, this hymn could not have been better timed. Come, dance in the forest / come play in the field. It corresponded so well to my fondness for nature and the artistry that I see in it.

For this beginning of this season of Margazhi, I can only remember the delightful verses of the eternal Tiruppavai. Bees drunk with nectar from the most beautiful flowers, lush paddy crop and fish that dart between, cows yielding bountiful milk, rain that invigorates and unceasing prosperity that fills the land Imagery such as these make Andal’s Tiruppavai one of the most exquisite pastoral hymns ever. Such were the simple, basic sentiments that I discovered in the Benedictine hymns and my own; some ancient, some contemporary, yet cutting across boundaries and unifying through song.

Regardless of which religion they represent, the spirit of such songs overwhelmingly reach out to a universal truth of simplicity and beauty such as is found in dance, in music and in daily life.

After that it is only a matter of belief whether they are sung in the church or the temple or elsewhere. As we stand on the threshold of 2016, I wish all my readers a year filled with the abundance of nature, of music and of dance. So that we may spontaneously join the chorus of ecstasy, like in the Canticle of the Sun - all creation is shouting for joy !

Dr Vasumathi Badrinathan is an eminent Carnatic vocalist based in Mumbai. She can be contacted on vasu@vasumathi.net