<p>Kathak exponent, choreographer, and educator Madhu Nataraj, Director of the Natya Institute of Kathak & Choreography and Founder of STEM Dance Kampni, has spent decades gently pushing boundaries. She blends various movement styles while exploring pressing issues, all while carrying the formidable legacy of her mother, the legendary danseuse Maya Rao. Yet Nataraj wears this heritage lightly, prioritising mentorship, experimentation, and building communities through art.</p>.<p>This spirit shone through in her recent organisation of the successful Dr Maya Rao Kathak & Choreography Conference 2026. Co-curated by Dr Anita Ratnam, Shoba Narayan, and Nataraj herself, with an accompanying exhibition curated by Sandhya Raman and Shreedevi Deshpande Puri, the two-day event wove together conversations, performances, and a sensorial exhibition. It reflected on choreography as a living continuum, honouring Rao’s enduring influence.</p>.<p>In a post-event interview, Nataraj spoke to DHoS about taking dance beyond the stage, the rising role of AI in choreography, and why today’s youngsters fill her with hope. Excerpts</p>.<p><strong>What made this edition of the conference special?</strong></p>.<p>This is an iconic year for us as it marks over six decades of the Natya Institute’s journey. We wanted to mark the moment with an exhibition — a tangible way to honour Maya Rao’s legacy and teachings. The curation was deeply multidisciplinary. For the first time, we presented an installation-based exhibition for dance, something usually reserved for the visual arts. It explored legacy, archives and choreography, and how dance has responded to socio-political change over time.</p>.<p><strong>How important is it for the performing arts today to engage with the world outside?</strong></p>.<p>Very important. We have always believed that dance mustn’t exist in a silo or merely as a showpiece; it must engage with sustainability, conflict, archives, costume design, climate action and even hope in a polarised world.</p>.<p>Back in 1964, when my mother started the institute, she insisted that choreography students address contemporary issues. Over the decades, students have explored the issues of Zamindari systems, reservation policies, dowry, marital rape, gender equity, and, more recently, climate change and AI. We believe that the stage is a powerful space for advocacy, not just aesthetics, and we must use that to create dialogue around harmony, especially in today’s polarised world.</p>.<p><strong>How do you see AI influencing choreography, artists’ rights and dance education?</strong></p>.<p>Two years ago, I was asked to mentor a cohort of young designers, dancers, and digital artists on creating works that integrate dance and technology. I also created the headline act, ‘Palimpsest’, for Future Fantastic, which was India’s first AI and tech art festival. That meant diving deep into how AI and machine learning actually work. So, I truly believe that as a platform for dialogue and in pedagogy, AI can be extremely powerful and open up different avenues for thought. But I’m bothered by artists using it to generate entire dance scripts. What happens to original thought, research, praxis, and long-term engagement then?</p>.<p><strong>Is there a particular lesson from your mother that continues to guide you today, the way you teach and create?</strong></p>.<p>She taught me to be non-judgmental, to keep my mind open to both tradition and modernity. “Don’t wear blinkers,” she’d say, urging me to observe deeply, believing inspiration propels true creativity. The day I decided to become a dancer, she asked me if I was ready to choose creative satisfaction over money. And that’s a big thought that has always stayed with me. I still turn down shows that compromise artistic integrity, even if it means losing big opportunities. I have no complaints; I chose this path with my eyes wide open.</p>.<p><strong>How do you balance tradition and experimentation?</strong></p>.<p>Kathak runs in my DNA; I have always deeply loved the form but have been troubled by its hierarchies and rigidity. This dual identity of mine as a Kathak and contemporary dancer is very much a resonance of how we all, as Indians, balance tradition and modernity in our daily lives.</p>.<p><strong>What advice would you like to give the young artists of today?</strong></p>.<p>I admire Gen Z — the twenties crowd and even younger kids. They make mistakes, move on, live in the present and are fearless, unlike our “post-mortem generation” that overanalyses mistakes. Every philosophy in the world tells us to stay in the present — they already do that instinctively.</p>
<p>Kathak exponent, choreographer, and educator Madhu Nataraj, Director of the Natya Institute of Kathak & Choreography and Founder of STEM Dance Kampni, has spent decades gently pushing boundaries. She blends various movement styles while exploring pressing issues, all while carrying the formidable legacy of her mother, the legendary danseuse Maya Rao. Yet Nataraj wears this heritage lightly, prioritising mentorship, experimentation, and building communities through art.</p>.<p>This spirit shone through in her recent organisation of the successful Dr Maya Rao Kathak & Choreography Conference 2026. Co-curated by Dr Anita Ratnam, Shoba Narayan, and Nataraj herself, with an accompanying exhibition curated by Sandhya Raman and Shreedevi Deshpande Puri, the two-day event wove together conversations, performances, and a sensorial exhibition. It reflected on choreography as a living continuum, honouring Rao’s enduring influence.</p>.<p>In a post-event interview, Nataraj spoke to DHoS about taking dance beyond the stage, the rising role of AI in choreography, and why today’s youngsters fill her with hope. Excerpts</p>.<p><strong>What made this edition of the conference special?</strong></p>.<p>This is an iconic year for us as it marks over six decades of the Natya Institute’s journey. We wanted to mark the moment with an exhibition — a tangible way to honour Maya Rao’s legacy and teachings. The curation was deeply multidisciplinary. For the first time, we presented an installation-based exhibition for dance, something usually reserved for the visual arts. It explored legacy, archives and choreography, and how dance has responded to socio-political change over time.</p>.<p><strong>How important is it for the performing arts today to engage with the world outside?</strong></p>.<p>Very important. We have always believed that dance mustn’t exist in a silo or merely as a showpiece; it must engage with sustainability, conflict, archives, costume design, climate action and even hope in a polarised world.</p>.<p>Back in 1964, when my mother started the institute, she insisted that choreography students address contemporary issues. Over the decades, students have explored the issues of Zamindari systems, reservation policies, dowry, marital rape, gender equity, and, more recently, climate change and AI. We believe that the stage is a powerful space for advocacy, not just aesthetics, and we must use that to create dialogue around harmony, especially in today’s polarised world.</p>.<p><strong>How do you see AI influencing choreography, artists’ rights and dance education?</strong></p>.<p>Two years ago, I was asked to mentor a cohort of young designers, dancers, and digital artists on creating works that integrate dance and technology. I also created the headline act, ‘Palimpsest’, for Future Fantastic, which was India’s first AI and tech art festival. That meant diving deep into how AI and machine learning actually work. So, I truly believe that as a platform for dialogue and in pedagogy, AI can be extremely powerful and open up different avenues for thought. But I’m bothered by artists using it to generate entire dance scripts. What happens to original thought, research, praxis, and long-term engagement then?</p>.<p><strong>Is there a particular lesson from your mother that continues to guide you today, the way you teach and create?</strong></p>.<p>She taught me to be non-judgmental, to keep my mind open to both tradition and modernity. “Don’t wear blinkers,” she’d say, urging me to observe deeply, believing inspiration propels true creativity. The day I decided to become a dancer, she asked me if I was ready to choose creative satisfaction over money. And that’s a big thought that has always stayed with me. I still turn down shows that compromise artistic integrity, even if it means losing big opportunities. I have no complaints; I chose this path with my eyes wide open.</p>.<p><strong>How do you balance tradition and experimentation?</strong></p>.<p>Kathak runs in my DNA; I have always deeply loved the form but have been troubled by its hierarchies and rigidity. This dual identity of mine as a Kathak and contemporary dancer is very much a resonance of how we all, as Indians, balance tradition and modernity in our daily lives.</p>.<p><strong>What advice would you like to give the young artists of today?</strong></p>.<p>I admire Gen Z — the twenties crowd and even younger kids. They make mistakes, move on, live in the present and are fearless, unlike our “post-mortem generation” that overanalyses mistakes. Every philosophy in the world tells us to stay in the present — they already do that instinctively.</p>