As a PhD in Biomedical Science, I’ve often wondered if it’s appropriate to introduce myself as “Dr. Kamat” when discussing dance and the books I’ve authored on dance. Scientists are trained to use precise language like “may,” “could,” or “potentially,” even with solid evidence, due to our cautious approach. Given this, should I carry my scientific title into the realm of dance?
I’ve always been skeptical, unsure of the answer. But this internal questioning led me to reflect on how my scientific training has shaped my approach to dance.
Identifying patterns
As a scientist, I break down complex ideas to find structure- a process I also use in performing intricate choreographies. Traditional dances often have a balanced structure, with mirroring and repetition creating clarity and completeness. Identifying these patterns makes it easier to memorize and perform, such as with a tattu mettu and theermana at the end of a sahitya.
Communication
Researchers usually focus on a niche topic but must communicate its significance to a broader audience—whether to other scientists, funders, or students—demanding clarity and creativity. My training to communicate specialized topics has helped me develop concepts that not only educate the reader with the theory of the dance form but also highlight its creative potential. For example, in my activity books on hasta mudras (hand gestures), I reference the 15th-century text Abhinaya Darpanam, replacing its poetic descriptions with vivid illustrations. This approach preserves theoretical accuracy while encouraging young readers to explore the creative uses of mudras beyond what’s provided in the text.
My scientific background has also shaped my ability to communicate complex ideas through visualization. Writing about dance is the reverse—converting a visual, physical movement into written form. Mastering visualization in science has made it enjoyable to apply this skill in the opposite direction—penning down and “imaging” the dance. Thus, my books under Natya Chittra (meaning “imaging dance”) offers a fresh approach to learning dance. Whether you prefer structure or abstraction, my publications offer both—a methodical understanding for those seeking clarity and an alternative perspective for those drawn to abstract concepts.
In many ways, it’s my scientific skills that enabled me to author books on dance. From this perspective, it feels appropriate to use my scientific title when discussing my books. Ultimately, my ability to visualize, persevere, and repeat processes—skills crucial in science—reflects the discipline I cultivated as a student of dance. It’s a beautiful intersection of two worlds, underscoring the importance of arts in early education—a topic I’ll delve into in my next blog post. Stay tuned!