In this conversation with Kathak practitioner and teacher Naina Manoj, several important questions emerged regarding the relationship between performance, history, pedagogy, and cultural memory. While the discussion began with her personal journey in Kathak, it gradually expanded into a broader reflection on how histories are transmitted within dance spaces, what remains absent from those narratives, and how contemporary understandings of art continue to be shaped by older structures of power.
Having trained in Kathak for over fifteen years and taught for the past three, Naina describes her relationship with the form as one of continual learning. Her experience within the Lucknow gharana tradition instilled in her a deep appreciation for Kathak's nuances and subtleties, while also reinforcing the idea that artistic practice is never complete. Even after years of training, she continues to see herself as a student, suggesting that knowledge within performance traditions is always evolving rather than fixed.
One of the central themes of the conversation concerned the way Kathak's history is communicated within pedagogical spaces. Naina noted that her teachers largely approached Kathak through the lens of gharana lineage and traditional histories. References to the nautch tradition or tawaifs were relatively limited and often appeared only in passing. This observation is significant because it highlights a broader tendency within institutionalized classical arts to foreground certain narratives while leaving others at the margins.
Interestingly, she pointed out that when ideas of vulgarity or impropriety were discussed in relation to Kathak, they were more frequently associated with cinematic portrayals of the dance rather than with courtesans themselves. This distinction reveals how contemporary media has often become a site through which stereotypes about Kathak are reproduced and reinforced.
The conversation also explored the place of Muslim, Persian, and Islamic influences within the form. Coming from the Lucknow gharana, Naina emphasized that these influences were never viewed as external intrusions but rather as naturally integrated aspects of Kathak's evolution. She highlighted the importance of Nawab Wajid Ali Shah as a patron and cultural figure whose contributions continue to be respected within the tradition. Such a perspective challenges narratives that seek to isolate Kathak within singular religious or cultural origins and instead acknowledges the form's long history of exchange, adaptation, and synthesis.
This discussion naturally led to questions surrounding contemporary attempts to redefine or rename elements of Kathak's repertoire. While examples such as replacing "salami" with terms like "rangmanch pranam" have appeared in certain contexts, Naina viewed these developments as localized responses to regional politics rather than evidence of a widespread transformation within the dance community. Her response underscores the extent to which artistic practices often become entangled in broader social and political debates.
Perhaps one of the most compelling moments of the conversation emerged when discussing origins and historical narratives. Naina observed that contemporary audiences frequently seek a single point of origin for artistic traditions, often preferring linear histories that provide clarity and certainty. Yet art rarely functions in such straightforward ways. Kathak, as she noted, did not even look the same fifty years ago as it does today. Over time, practices are codified, reorganized, and interpreted anew. Attempts to establish definitive beginnings can therefore obscure the fluidity and complexity that characterize living traditions.
The conversation then turned toward courtesan histories. Since tawaifs were not extensively discussed during her formal training, Naina's engagement with these histories developed independently through her academic research on cinematic representations of Kathak. This path eventually brought her into contact with larger debates surrounding nautch culture, representation, and the politics of respectability.
One of the most thought-provoking sections of the interview focused on the relationship between sensuality and art. While contemporary discussions increasingly acknowledge tawaifs as custodians of artistic traditions, there remains discomfort around recognizing their roles as figures associated with sensuality and erotic knowledge. Naina argued that this tension is deeply rooted in changing social perceptions rather than any inherent contradiction between art and sensuality.
Drawing attention to historical shifts in attitudes toward the body, she suggested that Victorian notions of modesty and morality significantly shaped modern understandings of what is considered respectable or vulgar. As a result, contemporary audiences often inherit categories that separate eroticism from artistic expression, despite the fact that many premodern Indian artistic traditions did not necessarily recognize such distinctions.
In her view, there is no fundamental separation between erotica and art. Ancient Indian sculpture itself demonstrates how bodily expression, desire, and aesthetic beauty could coexist within artistic practice without being treated as mutually exclusive categories. The discomfort surrounding these subjects today reflects modern social conditioning more than historical reality.
Naina further argued that the stigmatization of tawaifs cannot be understood solely through the lens of sexuality. Historically, courtesans were among the most educated women in society, possessing knowledge of literature, poetry, music, etiquette, and performance. Their intellectual and cultural authority often exceeded that available to many other women of their time. She suggested that attaching notions of vulgarity and moral decline to courtesans may have served as a means of undermining that authority and diminishing the respect associated with their knowledge.
Ultimately, the conversation revealed how questions of performance are inseparable from questions of memory, power, and representation. Whether discussing gharana histories, Islamic influences, courtesan cultures, or the politics of sensuality, a recurring theme emerged: artistic traditions cannot be understood through singular narratives. They are shaped by multiple histories, overlapping influences, and ongoing reinterpretations.
Reflecting on Relearning the Nautch, Naina expressed enthusiasm for initiatives that encourage these conversations. For her, education and dialogue remain essential to the vitality of artistic practice. As histories continue to be revisited and re-examined, projects that create space for nuanced discussion contribute not only to historical understanding but also to the future evolution of the arts themselves.
To begin, could you tell us about your journey as a practitioner of dance?
I've been learning the form for more than fifteen years now and have been teaching for the last three years. My journey as a practitioner of Kathak has been quite enjoyable. Having had a strong foundation in the basics of the form while growing up, I learned to appreciate its nuances and looked forward to learning the subtleties of the Lucknow gharana. I still continue as a student because I believe you can never learn enough.
Classical dance studios are not only spaces for learning dance but also spaces where histories and experiences are discussed. How did your gurus view Kathak's evolution, if they ever spoke about it?
They approached it through the traditional gharana lineage and history. Kathak's association with the nautch tradition was only mentioned in passing, usually to acknowledge the existence of tawaifs.
How did your teachers view tawaifs? Were they seen as vulgar, improper, deviant, custodians of art, teachers, or something in between?
They were never really spoken about in detail. They would occasionally be mentioned when discussing Sufi Kathak, but were otherwise largely ignored. What was considered improper or vulgar was usually the cinematic representation of Kathak rather than the tawaifs themselves.
How did your teachers understand Muslim, Persian, and Islamic contributions to Kathak? Were these viewed as forced influences or as naturally integrated into the form?
Naturally amalgamated. Since I come from the Lucknow gharana school of thought, we consider Nawab Wajid Ali Shah a very important patron. The Islamic elements within our practice are therefore respected and appreciated.
How do you view changes in terminology, such as replacing "salami" with terms like "rangmanch pranam," which I have observed in some places?
Personally, I haven't seen it as a widespread change within the community. It appears to be more a result of regional politics, which differ from place to place.
I've encountered both online and within dance spaces a certain indifference toward Islamic contributions to Kathak. Why do you think this happens? Is it because of communal tensions, beliefs about Kathak's divine origins, or something more subtle?
At first glance, it seems connected to the belief in Kathak's so-called divine origin. Today, everyone wants to trace practices and art forms back to a single point of origin, which isn't necessarily the smartest way to understand art.
The Kathak we practice today did not even look the same fifty years ago. Over time, people have codified and compartmentalized elements of the form in order to create a clear narrative of evolution. Art, however, is rarely so linear.
Since courtesans were not discussed much in your studio, I assume you learned about the nautch tradition and courtesans independently?
Yes, I did. As I mentioned earlier, I completed an entire thesis on the cinematic representation of Kathak, which inevitably led me to the discourse surrounding nautch and courtesan culture.
Many scholars distinguish between sensuality and art. While there is increasing discussion of courtesans as custodians of artistic traditions, there seems to be discomfort when they are discussed as erotic pedagogues. Why do people create these hierarchies? Why are we so uncomfortable with sensuality?
I think this is deeply rooted in societal perceptions.
When we talk about erotica in the Indian context today, we often forget that it was not necessarily viewed the same way historically. Over centuries, changing political, social, and cultural conditions altered perceptions of the body and sexuality. Later, during the Victorian period, ideas of modesty and prudishness became deeply influential. It is within this framework that notions of vulgarity and impropriety became attached to discussions of eroticism.
So I don't think people are necessarily afraid of sensuality itself. Rather, we have internalized certain ways of thinking about it.
I also don't believe there is an inherent separation between erotica and art. If you look at ancient Indian sculpture, many forms that we might label "erotic" today were understood as art.
Regarding tawaifs, they were often among the most educated women in society. They possessed knowledge of literature, music, poetry, etiquette, and performance. Educated women have frequently been perceived as threatening to established power structures. This was true not only within Indian society but also under colonial rule.
In my view, attaching notions of vulgarity and debauchery to tawaifs became a way of undermining that authority and diminishing the respect associated with their knowledge and influence.
Finally, would you like to share a few words about Relearning the Nautch?
I think it's a fantastic initiative. Educating and learning are at the heart of what allows art to thrive, and it is wonderful to see these conversations being discussed and shared more widely.
Kudos to you, and I wish you all the best. I hope the conversation continues to evolve from here.