Beyond Bollywood: Experiencing Pune's Thriving Classical Arts Scene

Pune doesn't announce its cultural significance with grand, tourist-packed venues. Instead, its artistic soul is distributed across modest auditoriums, university halls, and heritage homes converted into performance spaces. My first stop was the Sawai Gandharva Bhimsen Mahotsav, an annual Indian classical music festival held every December that draws performers and aficionados from across the country.

I arrived at the festival grounds armed with my trusty travel journal to jot down the ragas (melodic frameworks) that resonated with me. What struck me immediately was how different this was from Western music festivals – here, audience members sat cross-legged for hours, completely absorbed in performances that often stretched past midnight. No one was scrolling through phones; instead, they used subtle hand gestures and gentle nods to appreciate particularly complex passages.

The Bhimsen Mahotsav is just the crown jewel in Pune's year-round classical arts calendar. The Pune University campus hosts weekly performances that are often free for students (bring your student ID, even an international one works!). Meanwhile, institutions like the National Film Archive of India offer screenings of classic Indian cinema that provide context for how traditional art forms have influenced modern Indian storytelling.

What surprised me most was the accessibility. Unlike the intimidating opera houses of Europe or the prohibitively expensive theater districts of New York, Pune's classical arts scene feels designed for genuine cultural exchange rather than tourist consumption.

Growing up with Tlingit dance traditions that tell stories through precise movements, I felt an immediate connection to Kathak, one of India's eight classical dance forms that flourishes in Pune. The word 'Kathak' derives from 'Katha,' meaning story, and watching my first performance at the Kathak Kendra Pune was like witnessing the transformation of narrative into pure motion.

What makes Pune special for Kathak enthusiasts is the accessibility of both performances and lessons. After watching a mesmerizing recital by students ranging from age 8 to 80, I impulsively signed up for a three-day introductory workshop costing just 500 rupees (about $7). The instructor, Guru Manisha Joshi, began by teaching us the basic footwork patterns called 'tatkar' – rhythmic foot movements accentuated by the ghungroos (ankle bells) that dancers wear.

'In Kathak, we don't just dance with our feet,' Manisha explained as I struggled to coordinate my movements. 'We tell stories with our eyes, our hands, even our eyebrows.' I quickly realized my hiking-toned legs weren't prepared for the precise muscle control required, but the other students – mostly local university students – were endlessly patient with my attempts.

By the third day, I could perform a simple sequence representing rain falling on lotus leaves. The experience reminded me of what my mother always said about our Tlingit dances – that cultural understanding doesn't come from watching, but from doing, even imperfectly.

For those serious about documenting their cultural experiences, I found my compact camera perfect for capturing the rapid movements without flash (which is prohibited in most performance spaces). Just remember to always ask permission before photographing dancers during practice sessions.

One rainy afternoon, seeking shelter, I ducked into what I thought was a music store in the narrow lanes of Budhwar Peth. Instead, I found myself in the workshop of Shri Mahadev Shirke, a third-generation harmonium maker. The small room was filled with partially assembled instruments, and the air smelled of wood polish and history.

'These are not just instruments,' he told me, noticing my interest. 'They are voices that carry our traditions.' For the next hour, he demonstrated how he hand-crafts each harmonium, an instrument essential to Hindustani classical music that resembles a small portable organ.

This chance encounter opened doors to Pune's instrumental music scene. Through Mahadev's recommendations, I found my way to Gurukul Pratishthan, a music school where students learn in the traditional guru-shishya (teacher-student) method. Here, lessons happen not in structured classes but in informal sessions where students observe masters and gradually absorb techniques.

The director, an elderly sitarist named Pandit Suresh Talwalkar, invited me to attend a 'baithak' – an intimate gathering where musicians perform seated on the floor, just inches from the audience. Unlike formal concerts, these sessions allow performers to experiment and often include explanations about the technical aspects of the music.

'In the West, you have sound checks,' a tabla player explained to me during a break. 'Here, we have raga checks – making sure our souls are in tune before we begin.'

For travelers with limited time, I recommend bringing a portable audio recorder to capture these magical impromptu performances (with permission). Years later, these recordings become your most precious souvenirs, far more meaningful than any trinket from a tourist shop.

Finding budget-friendly stays in Pune that keep you connected to the arts scene requires looking beyond hotel booking sites. My best discovery was the network of 'artist homestays' – spare rooms in the homes of musicians, dancers, and artists who host travelers interested in cultural exchange rather than just accommodation.

Through a Facebook group called 'Pune Cultural Stay,' I connected with Varsha, a retired Bharatanatyam dancer who rents out a simple but comfortable room in her Koregaon Park home for just 800 rupees per night (about $10). Each morning over chai, she would suggest performances happening that day and even introduced me to former students who could get me discounted tickets.

For those preferring more conventional accommodations, university guesthouses offer clean, no-frills rooms at student-friendly prices. The Film and Television Institute of India (FTII) has basic rooms available to international visitors with an interest in the arts – just email their administrative office two weeks in advance with your dates and purpose of visit.

During my stay, I alternated between Varsha's homestay and the FTII guesthouse, giving me exposure to different neighborhoods. The money saved on accommodation allowed me to attend more performances and workshops – a trade-off I'm always willing to make.

To keep my belongings organized during frequent moves between accommodations, my packing cubes proved invaluable. The smallest cube perfectly fit my growing collection of performance programs and cultural pamphlets I collected throughout the week.

As someone who's always had one foot in sustainable fashion, I was fascinated by how Pune's classical arts scene influences contemporary clothing design. Unlike the flashy Bollywood-inspired fashion of Mumbai, Pune's style sensibility draws heavily from traditional performing arts costumes, with an emphasis on natural fabrics and heritage techniques.

My exploration led me to Laxmi Road, where small boutiques showcase modern clothing inspired by classical dance costumes. At Sonal Creations, designer Sonal Bapat showed me how she adapts the intricate border patterns from Kathak skirts into everyday cotton kurtas (tunics) that college students can afford.

'These designs tell stories,' she explained, tracing a pattern that represented flowing rivers. 'When you wear them, you carry our cultural narratives into modern life.'

For budget travelers interested in fashion, Pune offers incredible opportunities to acquire handcrafted textiles without the tourist markup found in larger cities. The Tulshi Baug market became my go-to spot for affordable cotton scarves with classical dance motifs (starting at just 150 rupees or $2) and block-printed fabric by the meter that I could later transform into unique pieces back home.

What I appreciated most was how Pune's fashion scene embraces sustainability as a natural extension of tradition rather than a marketing trend. At Chhaya Textiles, I watched artisans repurpose borders from worn-out Paithani saris (traditional silk saris) into stunning contemporary stoles.

For travelers who, like me, prefer to pack light but still want to bring home meaningful textile souvenirs, I recommend bringing a compression packing cube – it allowed me to bring home three beautiful hand-printed cotton scarves while barely taking up space in my carry-on.