On Story, Identity, and the Power of Uncontained Femininity
On Tuesday March 31, 2026, I had the good fortune to meet an artist born and shaped by discipline, devotion, and the relentless and courageous pursuit of her art— Bharatanatyam. It’s the emergence of a spirit who does not simply inhabit a tradition—she interrogates it, expands it, and ultimately transforms it with passion and clarity.
Mythili Prakash is one such artist. Gorgeous and animated, she speaks about her work, her examination of one of her pieces named, “She’s Auspicious” which will be performed at the Eli & Edythe Broad Stage in Santa Monica, on Saturday April 4, at 7:00 p.m. This work has recently been nominated for an Olivier Award for “Best New Dance Production.”
When I met her, I had an immediate sense of warmth and curiosity. She speaks with energy and insight, but also with the layered thoughtfulness of someone who has lived inside her art since childhood.
A Childhood Inside Dance
“My parents started a dance school in Los Angeles after moving from India,” she explains. “So I grew up surrounded by dance—it was always happening in the house, from even before I was born.”
Her mother, Viji Prakash, a dancer and founder of the Shakti School of Dance along with Mythili’s father Kikkeri Prakash, built what would become a cornerstone of the Indian dance community in Los Angeles. For Mythili, dance was not introduced—it felt inherited.
“I always say it was my first language.”
As she informed me, the term Natyam is a Sanskrit word for “theatre”.
I followed through with further seeking (on Wikipedia): The compound word Bharatanatyam connotes a dance that harmoniously expresses bhava (feelings, emotions) , raga (melody, Framework for musical notes) and tala (rhythm) that translates as “the dance of Bharata” reputed to be the author of the Natya Shastra, a Sanskrit text of performance arts.
Alongside movement came storytelling—passed down through family, culture, and the structure of Bharatanatyam itself. “In Indian culture, stories are how you learn lessons,” she explained. “So dance and storytelling were always intertwined for me.”
By the age of eight, Mythili was already performing solo works—full-length programs that demanded discipline, stamina, and emotional depth.
“It built a sense of responsibility early,” she reflects. “If you don’t practice, you’re the one who suffers on stage.”
But growing up inside performance also meant growing up inside the body—in real time.
“There were a lot of physical challenges,” she says. “You’re performing constantly while your body is changing. There’s a bond with the form, but it’s not always a happy relationship. It’s love…and frustration.”
That tension, between devotion and resistance, would become a defining force in her artistic voice.
India, Identity, and Choosing the Path
Though deeply immersed in dance, Prakash did not immediately commit to it as a career.
“I thought I’d pursue something else,” she admits. “I didn’t want something I loved so much to become something I depended on.” My parents, after I graduated from UC Berkeley, convinced me to spend some time considering my decision for the future. “It turned out to be six months in India”… “and It was a turning point for me.”
“When I came back, I knew. There was no way I could do this half way.”
She returned to India to train intensively under the legendary Malavika Sarukkai; an experience that deepened both her technique and her artistic inquiry.
Between Two Worlds
Prakash’s work lives in a compelling duality: One deeply rooted in Bharatanatyam, yet unmistakably contemporary.
“I feel both American and Indian,” she says. “The way my body moves, the way I think—it’s shaped by both.”
This duality soon found resonance in the work of the brilliant choreographer Akram Khan, whose blending of classical Indian forms with contemporary dance opened a new pathway for her.
“I just wrote to him,” she recalls… almost casually.
That email led to an invitation to perform at London’s Sadler’s Wells, and eventually to an ongoing artistic relationship. What began informally, evolved into mentorship and later, collaboration.
“He doesn’t mentor in a formal way,” she says. “But through the work, through the questions—it became a mentorship.”
Beyond Technique: Toward Truth
What is immediately striking, watching Prakash dance, is not just her command of form, but her willingness to move beyond it.
“I think the form gives you the foundation,” she says. “But you can’t get stuck there.”
Her work resists the polished perfectionism often associated with the classical traditions.
“I started questioning this idea of refinement,” she explains. “The perfect line, the perfect image—it began to feel… false.”
“During the pandemic, stripped of costume, jewelry, and theatrical framework, I found a new freedom.”
“There was a literal weight lifted,” she says. “And I started asking—who is all this adornment for?”
Asking the Hard Questions
Her current work, She’s Auspicious, emerged during the pandemic—not as a performance piece, but as a process of inquiry.
“I wasn’t trying to make something polished,” she says. “I was trying to sit with questions.”
Those questions are not small ones. They touch on: caste and power structures within Bharatanatyam; the legacy of erasure in the form; the role of women in mythology and society; and the tension between beauty and violence.
At the center of the work is the figure of the goddess—particularly the story of “Durga” created by male gods to defeat a demon they themselves could not destroy.
“It’s often told as an empowering story,” Prakash says. “But I started asking—why does she have to be created? Why does she only exist as a solution to a problem?”
Her interrogation goes further—into how femininity itself is constructed.
“The goddess is always the mother,” she explains. “She’s not sexualized, not complex in the same way male gods are. And even that—being placed on a pedestal—can be limiting.”
She also examines the physical representation of the female body in classical imagery.
“There’s one ideal—full breasts, tiny waist,” she says. “But whose gaze is that? Who is creating that image?”
Allowing Rage
Perhaps the most radical shift in Prakash’s work is her willingness to remain inside emotional states that classical forms often stylize or resolve.
“In traditional storytelling, there’s always a resolution,” she says. “But nothing felt resolved.”
In her reimagining of Durga, the warrior does not quickly return to serenity.
“She’s on a battlefield,” Prakash says. “She’s killing, she’s in a state of rage. What happens if we stay there? What does it mean to see a woman in that space—not controlled, not contained?”
An Evolving Work
She’s Auspicious continues to evolve.
What began as a solo exploration during the pandemic has grown into a full ensemble work, shaped over years of iteration, collaboration, and audience feedback.
“I don’t believe in a fixed piece,” she says. “Every time I come back to it, it changes.”
Even her process reflects this philosophy—sharing works-in-progress over Zoom, inviting response, allowing meaning to emerge through dialogue.
“People see things you didn’t know you put there,” she says. “And that deepens the work.”
From Technician to Artist
As our conversation comes to a close, what lingers is not just the scope of her inquiry, but the courage behind it.
Because what Mythili Prakash is ultimately doing is something every artist must face: moving from mastery of form…to ownership of voice.
She does not reject tradition—she questions it, lives inside it, and pushes it forward.
And in doing so, she reminds us of something essential:
Technique may shape the dancer. But it is truth—messy, searching, unresolved—that shapes the artist.
“She’s Auspicious” performs at the BroadStage in Santa Monica Saturday April 4, at 7:00 p.m. For more information and to purchase tickets, please visit the BroadStage website.
To learn more about Mythili Prakash, please visit her website.
Written by Joanne DiVito for LA Dance Chronicle.
Featured image: Mythili Prakash in “She’s Auspicious” – Photo by courtesy of BroadStage.








