<p>On April 22 and 23, I hosted the World Dance Day celebrations in Delhi. There was a frenzy for seats. The show ran to a full house, with the audience eagerly watching a live performance after ages. Private-sector sponsors, eclectic curation, and the thrill of dancers creating perfection and brilliance in live performance made the event memorable. </p>.<p>The response assured us that all has not been lost to the online world and the nightmare of the pandemic is finally beginning to fade. </p>.<p>For dancers, the last two years have been hellish.</p>.<p>Cut off from live audiences and all sources of income, dancers retreated from public arenas to domestic spaces, forced to practice in bedrooms and kitchens, garages, and driveways. </p>.<p>At the end of the day, dancers are mere daily wage earners in fancy costumes (that adds exponentially to their maintenance costs) with food bills, school fees and unemployed spouses. So, how did the dance community survive with little or no income? And what support did the state extend to them in distress?</p>.<p>First, dance was pushed online, changing the very nature of dance and its consumption. If earlier audiences had to go to watch a live performance, now they could view shows from the comfort of their sofas and toilet commodes! The pause button enabled them to watch bits and pieces and fast forward at their convenience, ruining the aesthetic enjoyment and intent that the dancer had imagined. </p>.<p>The mental health of dancers also went on a downward spiral. Since dancers are used to rehearsing in large spaces, it was stifling for many to restrict themselves to cramped areas. The camaraderie that is so essential between dancers in a troupe was missing and led to further isolation and mental anguish. And since many artists are without significant health insurance policies and lack access to mental health resources, few reached out for help.</p>.<p>In this miserable scenario, government aid to artists was woefully inadequate. While Germany, UK and US were evolving new and creative cultural support policies, in India, the state dramatically reduced its support and let the artists down completely.</p>.<p>The pandemic also brought to the fore a new breed of dance influencers who garner millions of views for their two-minute-long Insta feeds and reels. While it is unlikely that many of them would be able to sustain a full live performance, their popularity shows that audience expectations have been brought down to abominable least common denominators.</p>.<p>However, there were some positive aspects of the pandemic too. While online learning had its challenges, it brought us all very close. Distance and location did not matter anymore; many of my students who had moved out of Delhi to other cities or countries suddenly reconnected with me and resumed their dance training online.</p>.<p>We also realized that only our mundane routines do not define us. We needed some additional activity close to our hearts to survive the loneliness, isolation and fear. Music, dance, poetry, reading, chanting, painting, gardening, and cooking gave people hope and joy. It was cathartic for some.</p>.<p>Everybody in the arts was forced to become tech-savvy. The degree of expertise varied according to exposure and background, but nobody could ignore tech and the importance of being connected. Whether it was online teaching or performing or sharing processes, or discussing issues related to the arts, everyone had to pick up some skills to stay connected with the community.</p>.<p><em>Indian classical dancer Padmashri Geeta Chandran engages in a range of dance-related activities: performing, teaching, conducting, singing, collaborating, organizing, writing, and speaking to new youth audiences. She can be reached at geetachandran@gmail.com</em></p>
<p>On April 22 and 23, I hosted the World Dance Day celebrations in Delhi. There was a frenzy for seats. The show ran to a full house, with the audience eagerly watching a live performance after ages. Private-sector sponsors, eclectic curation, and the thrill of dancers creating perfection and brilliance in live performance made the event memorable. </p>.<p>The response assured us that all has not been lost to the online world and the nightmare of the pandemic is finally beginning to fade. </p>.<p>For dancers, the last two years have been hellish.</p>.<p>Cut off from live audiences and all sources of income, dancers retreated from public arenas to domestic spaces, forced to practice in bedrooms and kitchens, garages, and driveways. </p>.<p>At the end of the day, dancers are mere daily wage earners in fancy costumes (that adds exponentially to their maintenance costs) with food bills, school fees and unemployed spouses. So, how did the dance community survive with little or no income? And what support did the state extend to them in distress?</p>.<p>First, dance was pushed online, changing the very nature of dance and its consumption. If earlier audiences had to go to watch a live performance, now they could view shows from the comfort of their sofas and toilet commodes! The pause button enabled them to watch bits and pieces and fast forward at their convenience, ruining the aesthetic enjoyment and intent that the dancer had imagined. </p>.<p>The mental health of dancers also went on a downward spiral. Since dancers are used to rehearsing in large spaces, it was stifling for many to restrict themselves to cramped areas. The camaraderie that is so essential between dancers in a troupe was missing and led to further isolation and mental anguish. And since many artists are without significant health insurance policies and lack access to mental health resources, few reached out for help.</p>.<p>In this miserable scenario, government aid to artists was woefully inadequate. While Germany, UK and US were evolving new and creative cultural support policies, in India, the state dramatically reduced its support and let the artists down completely.</p>.<p>The pandemic also brought to the fore a new breed of dance influencers who garner millions of views for their two-minute-long Insta feeds and reels. While it is unlikely that many of them would be able to sustain a full live performance, their popularity shows that audience expectations have been brought down to abominable least common denominators.</p>.<p>However, there were some positive aspects of the pandemic too. While online learning had its challenges, it brought us all very close. Distance and location did not matter anymore; many of my students who had moved out of Delhi to other cities or countries suddenly reconnected with me and resumed their dance training online.</p>.<p>We also realized that only our mundane routines do not define us. We needed some additional activity close to our hearts to survive the loneliness, isolation and fear. Music, dance, poetry, reading, chanting, painting, gardening, and cooking gave people hope and joy. It was cathartic for some.</p>.<p>Everybody in the arts was forced to become tech-savvy. The degree of expertise varied according to exposure and background, but nobody could ignore tech and the importance of being connected. Whether it was online teaching or performing or sharing processes, or discussing issues related to the arts, everyone had to pick up some skills to stay connected with the community.</p>.<p><em>Indian classical dancer Padmashri Geeta Chandran engages in a range of dance-related activities: performing, teaching, conducting, singing, collaborating, organizing, writing, and speaking to new youth audiences. She can be reached at geetachandran@gmail.com</em></p>