My Favourite Nataraja - Chennai Museum

It was almost 10 years ago, I was visiting the Bronze Gallery of the Chennai Museum with my friend.

Like 99.99% visitors, I too was traipsing along from one exhibit to the other without paying too much attention, when suddenly my feet felt rooted. I was in front of the most mesmerizing Nataraja, I had ever seen. My eyes could not behold him enough & I was transfixed. 

I whispered - Sudha! Just look at him! He is easily the most beautiful that I have ever seen. She was like 'Hmm! Many of the others are equally beautiful!' 
I woke up and looked around. Of course, he was surrounded by a bevy of Natarajas - some bigger and some smaller, some more shiny & better lit and some still framed within an aureole of flame. Was he special? Was he more beautiful? Definitely seemed so to me. Reluctantly I said Goodbye! (No.....Make it till we meet again!), just noting the fact that the plaque below said, He is from Tiruvalangadu.

Thus began my secret tryst with Him. Every time, I was in the vicinity, I'd quickly hop across to look at him. Initially I tried to play 20 differences. What is it, that's different about him? Failed. Each piece there is unique in its own way and I couldn't frame his special features in bullet points. In fact the unique Nataraja there was the Pandya one from Madurai, because He had his right leg up.

After a few visits, I zeroed in on his expression. That's what's special - I said to myself. He has the most restrained, subtle smile. He is so content and happy where he is! When I asked him to confirm, he gave me his usual குறு நகை, புன்னகை or whatever.

Through those days - 

- It somehow never struck me to either google him or find his antecedents.

- To click a pic of him, even from my basic non smart phone.

He was simply etched in my mind's eye & fortunately, right here in Chennai, to visit whenever I wanted.

Then, between the 2 phases of Corona, my son & I visited the Museum, mask and all in place & maintaining social distance from one & all, but not each other. I quickly dragged him to the 1F and Wow! What do I see? They are cleaning and sprucing the place up. My Nataraja was out of his glass case and dim light & sitting right there on a table. 

How I wish, my blind friend was with me. He could have felt Him & may be found out what's so special about Him?

I did the next best thing. Coaxed the Museum staff to let my son take some photographs of him. Corona, or maybe Suriya's usual charm - worked. The staff not only co-operated by moving the Nataraja as per Suriya's specifications. They offered to hold my black Dupatta as a backdrop - for him to click. Tirelessly they stood on stools and held it up stiffly, while he freaked out clicking. 

My day, month, year, entire life was made.

It was, at last, time to google and find out who my Nataraja is and where did he come from? 

Before that I HAD to understand the iconography of a Nataraja and what he represents.

The Thiruvalangadu Nataraja - Chennai Museum - Suriya

Shiva as a God, is worshipped in many forms across India. One among these is the NRTTA or TANDAVA MURTHY form. The two most common forms of Shiva's dance are the LASYA (the gentle form of dance), associated with the creation of the world, and the TANDAVA(the dance of frenzy) associated with destruction of the world.

As Nataraja, he is supposed to be the King of Dancers, a unified and dynamic composition expressing the rhythm and harmony of life. He performs the cosmic dance 'ANANDA TANDAVA' (the Dance of Bliss/Delight), which represents the cosmic cycles of creation, preservation and destruction, as well as the daily rhythm of birth and death.

The Legend...

In the Thillai resided a group of sages who believed in the supremacy of magic and the thought that God can be controlled by rituals and mantras or magical words. In order to defy the sages, Shiva came into the forest assuming the form of Bhikshatana, a simple mendicant seeking alms. On seeing the handsome form of Shiva, the wives of the sages were enchanted. 

- This enraged the rishis and they invoked scores of serpents by performing magical rituals. Shiva lifted the serpents and donned them as ornaments on his matted locks, neck and waist. 

- Further enraged, the sages summoned a fierce tiger, whose skins were used by Shiva as a wrap around his waist.

- The rishis gathered all their spiritual strength and invoked a powerful demon Muyalakan or Apasmārapuruṣa - a symbol of complete arrogance and ignorance. 

Shiva wore a gentle smile, stepped on the demon's back, immobilized him and performed the Ananda Tandava disclosing his true form. The sages surrendered, realizing that Shiva is the truth and he is beyond magic and rituals.

History...

Though Nataraja has existed in this form for more than a thousand years, its ascent to ubiquity and fame is a relatively recent phenomenon, brought to the forefront by the Chola Bronzes.

The classical form of Nataraja first appeared in a pillar in the rock cut temple at Seeyamangalam – Avanibhajana Pallaveshwaram Temple constructed by a Pallava King Mahendravarman I in 6th century CE, which is known by Archeological Survey of India and Archeological Survey of Tamil Nadu as the oldest known Nataraja sculpture in India. 

The stone reliefs at the Ellora Caves and the Badami Caves, around the 6th century, are also among the oldest Nataraja sculptures in India. Ancient Tamil songs during the Bhakti movement written by the four Shaivite saints of Sambandar, Appar, Manikkavacakar, and Sundarar, extol Nataraja and describe the Nataraja Temple, Chidambaram, thus dating Nataraja worship way before the 7th century CE.

Around the 8th to 10th century, statues emerged in Tamil Nadu in its mature and best-known expression in Chola bronzes, as UTSAVA MOORTHYS. These are some of the best expressions of Indian art and acclaimed and accepted internationally. Nataraja reliefs have also been found in many parts of South East Asia such as Angkor Wat Cambodia, Bali etc.

Stone Natarajas - Seeyamangalam, Ellora and Badami - Me and Wikepedia.

The Iconography and the Symbolism...

Broadly the various aspects represented in the Nataraja include

• He dances within a circular or cyclically closed arch of flames (prabha mandala), which symbolically represents the cosmic fire that in Hindu cosmology creates everything and consumes everything, in cyclic existence or cycle of life. The fire also represents the evils, dangers, heat, warmth, light and joys of daily life. The arch of fire emerges from two makara (mythical water beasts) on each end.
• He looks calm, even through the continuous chain of creation and destruction that maintains the universe, that shows the supreme tranquility of the Atma.
• His legs are bent, which suggests an energetic dance. His long, matted tresses, are shown to be loose and flying out in thin strands during the dance, spread into a fan behind his head, because of the wildness and ecstasy of the dance.
• On his right side, meshed in with one of the flying strands of his hair near his forehead, is typically the river Ganges personified as a goddess, from the Hindu mythology where the danger of a mighty river is creatively tied to a calm river for the regeneration of life.

On a Chola Bronze...

Chola Bronzes from the Chennai Museum - Me.

• His headdress features a human skull (symbol of mortality), a crescent moon and a flower identified as that of the entheogenic plant Datura metel.
• Four-armed figures are most typical, with a few exceptions of 8-10 arms.
• The upper right hand holds a small drum shaped like an hourglass that is called a ḍamaru in Sanskrit. A specific hand gesture (mudra) called ḍamaru-hasta is used to hold the drum, which symbolizes rhythm of creation and time.
• The upper left hand contains Agni or fire, which signifies destruction.
• A cobra uncoils from his lower right forearm, while his hand is in the abhaya mudra gesture as a sign to not fear
• The lower left hand is bent downwards at the wrist with the palm facing inward, we also note that this arm crosses Naṭarāja’s chest, concealing his heart from view. It represents tirodhāna, which means “occlusion, concealment.”
• The face shows two eyes plus a slightly open third on the forehead, which symbolize the triune in Shaivism. The eyes represent the sun, the moon and the third has been interpreted as the inner eye, or symbol of knowledge (jnana), urging the viewer to seek the inner wisdom, self-realization. The three eyes alternatively symbolize an equilibrium of the three Guṇas: Sattva, Rajas and Tamas.
• He wears mismatching Earrings - the Makara Kundala in his right ear and the Patra Kundala in his left ear, thus representing the Unification of the male and female aspects of the divine. This also symbolizes the fact that he holds Shakthi within him.
• The idol rests on a Lotus pedestal, symbolising the creatives forces of the universe.
• The dwarf underneath his foot is the demon Apasmara purusha or Muyalaka, who symbolizes ignorance which Nataraja destroys.
• The slightly smiling face of Shiva represents his calmness despite being immersed in the contrasting forces of universe and his energetic dance.

The Details of the Eyes, Ears, Hair, Hand Mudras

The Tiruvalangadu Nataraja...

How the Tiruvalangadu Nataraja came to the Chennai Museum is an interesting story.

In July 1905, K.V. Subramania Ayyar, a Tamil Assistant in Madras with the Archaeological Survey, visited Tiruvalangadu, further west, to recover two ancient copper plates from a temple. His abilities of persuasion got him not two, but 31 copper plates. He also managed to get a number of metal images, which the temple officials had found in an underground chamber. Not realising their importance, the Archaeological Survey, in its annual report to the government, recommended a routine acquisition of the images. Thus, in 1907, the Tiruvalangadu Nataraja and the other metal images reached the Madras Museum.

It is only much later, that Art Historian Havel realised the importance of this statue and it acquired its position of importance.

With all this knowledge, under my belt, I visited my friend again. Beamed at him and told him, I know a lot more about you now.

I also know that you are somewhat damaged, have lost your aureole and maybe some exotic flying out manes, but you are still the most beautiful - to me.

He, as usual gave me his all knowing smile.

Then, last year, on Museum day, I visited the museum, with a docent. Dr. Deepika, a Professor of History & Archaeology from MCC. For the first time, we lingered in front of each exhibit, observed the details, inched along & finally stood before my idol.

Bronze Gallery at Chennai Museum

Imagine my surprise, when she said, the Tiruvalangadu Bronze is one of the most beautiful Bronzes ever made, acknowledged so - not just by Indian Artists & Art Historians, but even internationally. In fact, when ever lists are made & updated on the world's finest objects of art, he always makes it to the top 10 list. I couldn't stop beaming. 

I was like a proud mother whose son wins the race. Or a woman whose boyfriend was declared Mr. Madras (Actually Mr. Universe - no less!)

Also fast acquiring this smug expression - which said 'See! I'm no less a connoisseur. What the Art historians across the world decided upon, after perhaps detailed research & study, I've spotted with my untrained eye!' 

On this note - I asked Dr. Deepika, 'What is it that makes him so special?'

She gave the standard answer. 'Google it!'

Thus I went back to my key(drawing) board and found this.

Indian Art and its International Acceptance...

In the early part of the 20th century, influential orientalists hardly reckoned Indian sculpture to be art. In the words of Vincent Smith, “the figures both of men and animals (in Indian sculptures) become stiff and formal, and the idea of power is clumsily expressed by the multiplication of members.” Even the official handbook to the Indian section of the Victoria and Albert Museum derided them. In fact, the West clearly branded Indian (mostly Buddhist) sculptures as poor versions of Greek and Roman art.

Binfield Havell, an art historian (who was a columnist for The Hindu) who worked in the Madras and Calcutta colleges of art for many years, was one the earliest to argue for the artistic merits of Indian art by presenting exalted examples to an International audience.

In 1908, he wrote an important book 'Indian Sculpture and Painting', where he substantiated his arguments with examples. The bronze sculpture of Nataraja, acquired by the Madras Museum in 1872 from Velankanni, found a prominent place in it.

However, Havell recalibrated his assessment when photos of the Tiruvalangadu bronze reached him. Though both the Nataraja icons were identical, he was clear about which one was preferred. “There is a great difference in the feeling which animates the two,” he wrote in favour of the Tiruvalangadu Nataraja. He declared that the ‘gaiety' of this ‘delightful bronze' was ‘the perfect art' and that it was superior to the ‘trivial' sculptures prevalent in Indian Art till then. Havell published the photographs of the Tiruvalangadu bronze for the first time in 1911 in his book, 'The Ideals of Indian Art.'

The Chola Bronzes from Velankanni & Tiruvalangadu

Around that time, Ananda Coomaraswamy, the art theorist, also took on critics who dubbed Indian sculptures with many arms and heads as ‘hideous'. In an important essay published in 1913, he demonstrated that multiple limbs helped stage a ‘sculpture drama', and exhibited ‘the wonderful creative energy of the Indian genius'. He made this point first by using the ‘profoundly expressive' figure of Durga, and followed it up with the ‘perfectly balanced' Tiruvalangadu bronze. When Coomaraswamy reworked this essay in 1918, the Tiruvalangadu Nataraja moved up the list of examples.

Coomaraswamy's seminal work, titled The Dance of Siva, played an important role in popularising Nataraja. This much-cited essay ‘decoded' the art and made the meaning accessible to many. However, it did not receive much notice when first published in 1912, in a Saiva Siddantha journal without any illustration. But its reprint in 1918, as part of a book under the same name by a New York publisher, reached audiences across the world. Coomaraswamy used the photograph of the Tiruvalangadu bronze as the front piece.

Havell and others pointed to the merits of Indian art, but their reputation as ‘friends of Indian art' came in the way of some critics accepting their assessment. However, finally, doubts about the significance of Indian sculptures came to rest in 1921.

Auguste Rodin, considered the ‘father of modern sculpture', was widely respected for his works such as ‘Thinker' (1904). When the photographs of the Tiruvalangadu and Velankanni bronzes reached him, probably given by Rothenstein or Victor Goloubew, a French art enthusiast and photographer who had lived in Pondicherry for a short time, the plastic quality of the sculptures captivated Rodin. In the elegance of these bronzes, he found ‘grace' and ‘above the grace' he admired their ‘ modeling'. Nataraja sculptures were the ‘perfect expression of rhythmic movement in the world', he waxed eloquent. These comments, coming as they did from a revered sculptor, created a stir and led to the instant popularity of the Nataraja form.

Rodin wrote his essay on the dancing Siva (in French) a couple of years before he died in 1917, but it was posthumously published in 1921. The same year, the English translation of the article appeared in the Indian art journal Rupam . Though images of the Velankanni and Tiruvalangadu bronzes accompanied Rodin's essay, there was little doubt about which among the two had created an impact.

Opinions on Indian art changed in the later part of 1920s. Images of the Tiruvalangadu Nataraja began to appear regularly in essays and books. Stella Kramrisch, an authority on Indian art, in 1922 used the sculpture as an illustration with her article on space in Indian sculpture. Havell, too, in 1928, when he rewrote his book, Indian Sculpture and Painting, chose to print the Tiruvalangadu bronze instead of the Velankanni one. 

The enduring spell of the Tiruvalangadu Nataraja was cast worldwide. Museums across the world could not help but compare their own bronzes with the “famous example in the Madras Museum”. Cleveland museum, for instance, in 1930, took pride that its own Nataraja “fails by only three and a half centimetres” when compared with the Madras icon. Newspapers, as The Hindu did in 1941, featured the Tiruvalangadu bronze as one of the world's most delightful bronzes. The Indian postal department was not far behind. When it decided to publish a definitive series of 16 stamps focusing on Indian heritage in 1949, the Tiruvalangadu icon was a natural choice.

In many ways, the exhaustive account given in 1974 of Nataraja in art and literature by C.Sivaramamurti, the reputed art historian, firmed up the significance of this sculptural form and summed up its renown. In Sivaramamurti's list, too, the Tiruvalangadu bronze found a special place. After analysing hundreds of sculptures, he concluded that it was “the best known image of its kind in any public museum”. The journey came a full circle in 1992 when the Madras museum published a brief catalogue of its select bronzes. The Velankanni bronze was left out, but Tiruvalangadu Nataraja adorned the cover, and was prominently included in the catalogue.

Well!  With this my story should end - on a glorious note!

But there's a twist...

The true significance of my Nataraja...

My moment of epiphany came just last month - when I attended a series of lectures on Chola Bronzes by Vijayakumar (of the Idol Thief fame).

Vijayakumar said that all Bronzes are called  திருமேனிகள் for a specific reason. They were commissioned, conceived and executed as Representations of God, meant to be housed in Temples and nurtured with all the rituals as prescribed in the Agamas, which is what endowed them with their aura, presence and vibration.

They were to be approached as GODS, with an inherent feeling of spirituality.

To view them as mere objects of art amounted to a sacrilege and showed great disrespect to both the creativity of the sculptor and the intent of the creation.

With this in mind, I visited my Nataraja again. Having read Gopu, I also had a new term for his smile 'சிறுமுறுவல் வந்தெனது சிந்தை வௌவ' - seemed to clearly describe the impact of his smile on me. (This phrase is from Appar's Thevaram on the Shiva from the Valampuram temple, which was referenced by Dr. Nagaswamy in his book Oviyapavai and which in turn inspired Gopu!)

Standing before him, I finally understood, what it was, that he had been trying to tell me for over 10 years. He was damaged (the Framework that defined him and gave him stability had gone). He was displaced. His identity reduced to a 2 line plaque at his feet. 99.99% people who visited him, passed him along with nary a 2nd thought.

Yet HE WAS. And CHOSE TO BE. Complete, beautiful, at peace and full of equanimous joy. Accepting Himself and His audience for what they were.

Is this not how we should be? Accepting ourselves with all our seeming flaws and incompletion, finding our own Home & identity, no matter where we are placed and above all finding Equanimous joy, every moment of our lives! I truly felt blessed & what began almost 10 years ago as a clueless quest found its culmination at last!

A small error rectified - as pointed out by my friend Vallabha.

The oldest Nataraja Sculpture (present as of today) is at Asanapet Odisha (and not Seeyamangalam).

Belonging to a date around 4th century CE,

The Asanapat Nataraja has a 13 line inscription below, in Sanskrit Language with Post Brahmi or early Kalinga script.

It describes the achievements of  King Satrubhanja  as a conqueror and spiritual man.