DANCE
Long before the screen or stage, Pallavi discovered her artistic voice through Indian classical and folk dance styles. Raised in Australia, Pallavi learned Bharata Natyam from Srimati Renuka Arumughasamy — a revered Sri Lankan Tamil teacher in Melbourne — at the Kalanjali School of Dance. Renuka Aunty’s guidance in the Kalakshetra style gave Pallavi access not only to an ancient form once performed by Devadasis or Temple Dancers in the southern regions of Indiaseeded in Pallavi a discipline and a deep spiritual practice. Dance became a bridge to her heritage, a sacred inheritance that transcended generations, cultures, and subcultures.
‘When South Asian dance is taught in diaspora communities, it becomes a space for cultural exchange, story-sharing and community.’
‘When South Asian dance is taught in diaspora communities, it becomes a space for cultural exchange, story-sharing and community.’
Bharatanatyam, originally a temple dance performed by devadasis, was reformed in the early 20th century into the classical art form it is today. Pallavi trained in this rigorous Kalakshetra-style tradition, where precision of mudra , rhythm, and expression are essential.
But for her, it was never just about form — it was about feeling. Dance opened a pathway for emotional truth and embodied storytelling. This training now informs how she moves through her roles, her activism, and her life.
‘Our body has an inner intelligence - sometimes we just need to get quiet enough to hear it.’
‘Our body has an inner intelligence - sometimes we just need to get quiet enough to hear it.’
Beyond performance, dance is how Pallavi returns to herself. A trained yogi and lifelong mover, she believes in the quiet wisdom of the body — that stillness can be just as powerful as choreography, and that sometimes healing looks like letting the body lead.
Through mudras, breathwork, and rhythm, movement becomes medicine. It’s not about executing the perfect step — it’s about showing up, listening in, and letting the body express its own truth.
In a world that often demands we rush and perform, Pallavi’s practice reminds us: there’s strength in softness, and liberation in slowness.
‘Being inside the body helps me live better. It’s a form of release - and of truth.’
‘Being inside the body helps me live better. It’s a form of release - and of truth.’
Pallavi’s relationship with dance lives between the sacred and the spontaneous — from temple-rooted Bharatanatyam to the pulsing joy of a Daybreaker sunrise rave. Whether she’s centre stage or moving in a crowd, her practice is grounded in community energy — that unspoken rhythm where individual expression becomes shared vibration.
For her, dance isn’t just performance; it’s communion. It’s where movement becomes medicine, and where bodies — across cultures, generations, and timelines — meet to listen, to release, and to remember.
Dance was how I found my way into Performance’
Dance was how I found my way into Performance’
Pallavi’s classical training continues to evolve into contemporary spaces. She choreographed the joyful end sequence of Wedding Season, blending classical technique with modern movement and a diasporic sense of celebration. Whether on a film set or at a live event, she sees choreography as an act of authorship — shaping not only steps, but stories. As a woman raised in the diaspora, dance is a grounding force — a medium through which she can understand, embody, and narrate Indian identity on her own terms. Her choreographic work across stage and screen honours this tradition, while making space for its evolution.