Christopher Gurusamy

What’s in a name? For Christopher Gurusamy, it’s an ode to the past and a pledge to the future.
“It sounds so odd: ‘Bharatanatyam: Christopher Gurusamy,’” he says over the phone. Odd, perhaps. But Christopher’s British and Indian signatures have met in harmony and laid the foundation for his unique journey through dance. His name doesn’t define him, he points out, but it has helped him find himself.

Christopher is a full-time professional Bharatanatyam performer based in Chennai, India. His roots in dance reach back to his paternal aunt, or atheyi, Jayalakshmi Raman, the first woman in Singapore to attend and graduate from Kalakshetra. She later taught Bharatanatyam in Singapore before moving with her family to Perth, Australia. Pursuing her devotion to the art form, she advertised dance lessons in the, then small, city newspaper, and her first student was a young British woman with a keen sense of curiosity: Christopher’s mom. She fell in love with the dance, and after meeting Jayalakshmi’s brother, fell in love with a life partner, too.


“So, I’ve been dancing since I was born,” Christopher says. Raised in a family that were passionate supporters of the arts, he grew up learning ballet, jazz, tap and gymnastics, but his truest joy came from Bharatanatyam. “I literally just wanted to dance all of the time,” he says, reflecting back on the times that he would dress up in costumes and boogie around the living room.
“I was hyperactive when I was young,” he says with a laugh. “I would just be running around [my athey’s] dance class like a wild child…I’ve been banned from dance class many, many times. It’s hilarious because a lot of girls’ punishments was going to dance class, but mine was not being allowed to go to dance class.”



Christopher worked under the tough guidance of his atheyi for years until making the decision after high school to follow in her footsteps and enroll at Kalakshetra. Just as any young adult going off to college, Christopher said he had a steep learning curve- not just in his studies, but in everyday life.
“I was like any spoiled 18-year-old boy. I didn’t know how to use a washing machine,” he says. “So, for example, when I got to college, I just put all of my clothes in a bucket and put a crapload of washing detergent, left it there for an hour and then just pulled it out and put it on the line. It didn’t occur to me that you had to get rid of the soap. And I went to college the next day with rashes all over my body because there was soap powder everywhere. It was a lot of really, really quick learning for me.”

His first few months at the school were fraught with similar, now laughable, stories, and although challenging, Christopher says that his happiest memories come from his time at Kalakshetra. Entirely surrounded by everything dance in heart of Southern India, studying at this academy was his biggest dreams coming true. During his studies, the academy’s director was acclaimed dancer, Leela Samson, who was also of mixed heritage. Because of this, Christopher was especially influenced by her teachings, “I learnt a lot from her about unique perspectives and embracing who I am. She really was and is one of my greatest inspirations. She told me, it’s going to be hard for you; you really have to work because you have to prove that you’re worth every opportunity that you get.”

Unlike many of the Bharatanatyam dancers that Christopher grew up with, he didn’t perform his arangetram until completing his fourth year at Kalakshetra. He opted for a small, low-key ceremony at the Perth Murugan Temple. At age 22, he had initially planned to do his debut years before, but listening to some fatherly advice, decided to test the waters as a student before committing to such an important ceremony. “My dad always brought us up with this idea of, if you’re going to do something, do it properly,” he says, hinting to the importance of his foundational learning in college. “It was the best advice. What my dad said set me up for everything that I’ve achieved post-Arangetram.”

For Christopher, the process of learning has never ceased, and in his opinion, it never should.
“One thing I’ll share with you is that everyone thinks that after an arangetram you’re a dancer. You’re really not a dancer. You’re really just someone who did one performance,” he says. “A real performer is someone who performs at that kind of level numerous times. That’s the reality. So arangetrams for me aren’t really a hallmark or something to aspire to, it’s the program after the arangetram that’s really the defining factor of whether you’re a good dancer or not.”


Upon graduating from Kalakshetra, Christopher immediately began working with Leela Samson’s Spanda Dance Company where he further refined his technique and individual style. He was invited to perform at the prestigious Music Academy in Madras for consecutive seasons and, after a performance in New York last year, was named one of the top five performers of 2017 by New York Times dance critic, Alastair Macaulay.

Although it appears to be a glitzy life, the reality is that being a professional dancer is tough work. His accomplishments thus far are a result of early mornings, long days, aching muscles and social sacrifices. Dance comes with challenges, and the toughest one of all, he says, has been maintaining focus amidst the fear of doubt.
“Facts are facts, I’m half English, half Indian…other people pre-conceive what I am and who I am because of that,” he says. “What I’ve learned from all of this is how amazingly unique I am as a person because of the perspective I have, where I grew up and and how I grew up. I’m at a point where I’m really starting to understand those things and now I’m creating work that’s based on my understanding rather than someone else’s.”



His own experiences have pulled older compositions near and dear to his heart. As the vocabulary of Bharatanatyam continues to expand in an ever-intermingling world, Christopher attempts to reveal the fresh ideas that lay within these traditional pieces.
“While [Bharatanatyam] is classical, I think a lot of people aren’t seeing how contemporary these ideas are. It’s kind of like ballet. Ballet is constantly recreating itself, but it’s still always so beautiful to watch Swan Lake…We have that. We have a treasure trove of music that’s as beautiful as that. I think we need to celebrate that more,” he says. “I really strongly believe that if Beyoncé found out some of the lyrics that we have in Bharatanatyam songs and in music of South India, she would steal that stuff so quick!”


His costumes often compliment his composition choices, choosing traditional silks, but with a more modern colour palette. As someone who strongly believes in the visual power of dance, Christopher puts a great deal of emphasis on his stage aesthetic and always hunts down the perfect shade of material for each performance- a task, which he says, is quite hectic in India.


As the dance landscape moves to the ebb and flow of trends in style and composition, it’s beginning to shine a light in places that haven’t yet had a share of the stage. More discussions are taking place, more perspectives are being heard and the sheer power of Indian Classical Dance is reaching all corners of the globe.

“When you watch good dance, it’s life-confirming, it’s an affirmation. You’re watching this person be so much more than themselves, connecting with something so much more than themselves and sharing that with other people,” he says. “A brilliant performer is someone who are no longer themselves; they are just vessels to dance.”
Now, as someone whose name is often emblazoned across the header of performance posters, Christopher prefers to transcend beyond the attributes of his title and let the dance speak for itself.