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Confessions of a global gypsy – Part 20

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A winning streak

By Dr. Chandana (Chandi) Jayawardena DPhil

President – Chandi J. Associates Inc. Consulting, Canada

Founder & Administrator – Global Hospitality Forum

Learning from the Past to Create a Bright Future

Last week, I was pleased to be invited by a newly established International Hotel School (IHS) Guild to talk on the above topic. IHS Guild organized their first webinar of a series on the day I celebrated my 50 years in the field of hospitality – on October 10, 2021. As their keynote speaker, I spoke about the vision, the mission and the passion needed. It was in relation to the how the IHS – the second oldest hotel school in Sri Lanka, was created within Mount Lavinia Hotel 30 years ago. As the hotel industry in Sri Lanka is planning to re-bounce and rebuild after the global pandemic, it is vital for industry leaders to learn from the past in becoming innovative leaders for the future.

Managing an Inn at age twenty

In 1974, my first management position fell on my lap when I was still a 24-year old third-year student at the Ceylon Hotel School (CHS). The company making the offer was very impressed with my experience in eight part-time positions within a short two and half years at CHS. Most of my peers interested in this position had only two or three part-time positions on their resumes. My focus on being ‘street smart’ by action learning at any job I could find rather than being ‘book smart’, finally paid dividends.

This company, with five boutique hotels (in Colombo, Kandy and Nuwara Eliya) – Yahala Group, offered me the post of the Resident Secretary of the Tropical Gardens Club & Inn in the most expensive location in Sri Lanka (Colombo Seven). I accepted the offer immediately. Every afternoon, soon after I finished my classes at CHS, I wore a tie and rushed to the this small 10-bedroom inn with a busy restaurant, bar and a club. Around 4:00 pm every weekday, I took over the keys and the entire operation from Mrs. S. Wijesinghe, the manageress.

I was paid only Rs. 200 a month. However, to the amazement of my batchmates I was provided with à la carte restaurant dining facilities and an air-conditioned room for overnight stay, on complimentary basis. Air-conditioning was a luxury in mid-1970s in Sri Lanka. Around midnight, I managed to do a little bit of studying for the forthcoming final examinations at CHS in my luxurious hotel bedroom, rather than in a crowded dormitory at the CHS hostel.

The manageress was an early bird. Every morning, I handed over the inn back to her and rushed to CHS. During the weekends I worked longer hours. I did not get many opportunities to practice my newly improved culinary skills but enjoyed being in charge of the inn during its busiest time of the day. I was the number two of the inn combined with duties of the duty manager and night manager. The employees respected me after I commenced mini sessions of service training. In my ninth part-time job I learnt how to lead a small team and keep them motivated.

Winning Big at Sports

In spite of my hectic schedule, I found time to continue practising Judo and Rugby Football. I was chosen to the five-member team of Colombo YMCA Judo club. After a hectic five-bout team event, we won the 1974 national Judo Championship in Sri Lanka.

For the third time, as the Tournament Secretary of the Nationalised Services Rugby Football Club I led the organizing of a 16-team seven-a-side tournament. CHS competed once again and won the championship for the first time. We played against strong teams with several top Sri Lanka national team players, such as Dan Ratnam (Captain of the Havelock Sports Club, fondly known as Havies Rugger team). Our hard work at early morning practices at the Galle Face Green and our youthful fitness were the key winning factors in our favour.

I was angered when the team captain and my friend, Neil Maurice nearly dropped me from the team for not attending some of the practice sessions. However, he was particularly pleased with my performance during our final match. After a 60-meter sprint, I scored an early try within minutes of the opening whistle. After we won the trophy, Neil gave me a big hug and said, “Machang, no hard feelings. We won mainly because of that first minute try by you.”

Getting Promoted to Havelock Tourinn

During my third month at Tropical Gardens Club & Inn, the company appointed a Group General Manager in charge of all five boutique hotels. Mr C. Nagendra was a Chartered Accountant returning to Sri Lanka after spending a long time in the UK. He immediately interviewed me and offered me a transfer and promotion. He transferred me to the company’s flagship hotel – Havelock Tourinn on Dickman’s Road, Colombo-4 as one of his two deputies. Mr. Nagendra made my job a full-time job and doubled my salary, to Rs. 400 a month. At that time, that was a very good salary for a 20-year old.

One of my batchmates, Hiran Seneviratne and I were both appointed Assistant Managers. Hiran was a smooth operator and was a friendly roommate at the CHS hostel. Hiran and I shared one office with Mr. Nagendra, who was familiarizing himself with hotel operations. He was a good administrator, but did not have experience in hotel operations. He kept on asking us operational questions and we learnt hotel accounting from him.

I looked after the kitchen, bar and the Flame Room Restaurant then famous for flambé dishes. I had a team of young, smart and English-fluent waiters who came from Colombo schools. I did some training sessions for them. In later years, most of them became good restaurant managers and food and beverage managers of top hotels in Sri Lanka and the Middle East. Hiran looked after the rest of the operations. In my tenth job at times, I also acted for the General Manager.

Graduating

I did well at the final examinations. CHS arranged a grand graduation ceremony at Hotel Samudra with Dr. N. M. Perera, the Minister of Finance, as the chief guest. Although it was a happy moment, I was saddened to leave the hostel and many friends at CHS. We were also getting ready to bid farewell to three of my batchmates who were awarded Carl Duisberg Society scholarships to undergo two years of postgraduate industrial training in West Germany. In addition, my friend, Neil Maurice decided to migrate to Australia soon after the graduation.

Our two junior batches at CHS organized a grand graduation ball event at the Colombo Holiday Inn. They followed the traditions we set during our time at CHS. Our memorable three years at CHS ended on a high note.

Career Planning – The Next Move?

Early hours of that morning, after the graduation ball, I went to my bedroom at Havelock Tourinn instead of my home which was a just a five-minute walk from the hotel. I did not fall asleep as I had a long thought about my next career move. I thought about the ten part-time jobs I held during my student years at CHS, and identified key lessons I learnt by doing or observing in each of those jobs:

1. Hotel Samdura – Following rules to avoid getting fired

2. Pegasus Reef Hotel – Win-win formula for successful buffet products

3. Mount Lavina Hyatt Hotel – Restaurant service and fair dealing with trade unions

4. Barberyn Reef Hotel – Analysing personalities of superiors and customers

5. Windmill Restaurant – Fast food operations

6. Hotel Ceylon InterContinental – Five-star banquet service

7. Lever Brothers – Staff canteen mass food production

8. Bentota Beach Hotel – Bar controls and kitchen operations

9. Tropical Gardens Club & Inn – Club management and staff training

10. Havelock Tourinn – Kitchen, food and beverage and general management.

At age 20, I was working as the Assistant Manager of a reputed hotel in Colombo with free board and lodging, and walking distance to my family home. It was also not far from my club (YMCA Judo Club) and many key venues for social activities in Colombo. This was somewhat a dream job for most young graduates of CHS. I was very comfortable at my current job, but settling in a comfort zone was short-sighted. There were many other key aspects of hotel operations I needed to get practical experience of. Therefore, I concluded that I needed to move.

In my opinion, kitchen operations is a weak aspect of most hotel managers/general managers. As a result, some executive chefs behaved with attitudes which undermined the hotels manager’s authority. At Havelock Tourinn I had three experienced chefs (including Mrs. Marie Nugapitiya who later became a Culinary Lecturer at CHS) reporting to me. I was not experienced enough in kitchen operations to supervise such qualified and experienced chefs who were also much senior to me in age.

I decided that before I became a hotel general manager, I must master kitchen management initially as a junior chef and then after a couple of years, as an executive chef. Although I loved Bentota Beach hotel, it did not have an opening there. Meanwhile, the largest hotel in Sri Lanka – Hotel Lanka Oberoi, in preparation to open in a few months’ time, had advertised many middle management operational job positions. A newspaper advertisement seeking suitably qualified applicants for the posts of chef de partie (station chef) caught my eye. That morning I posted my application to Hotel Lanka Oberoi. That was the first time I applied to a hotel position in writing.

Dr. Chandana (Chandi) Jayawardena

has been an Executive Chef, Food & Beverage Director, Hotel GM, MD, VP, President, Chairman, Professor, Dean, Leadership Coach and Consultant. He has published 21 text books. This weekly column narrates ‘fun’ stories from his 50-year career in South Asia, the Middle East, Europe, South America, the Caribbean and North America, and his travels to 98 countries and assignments in 44 countries.



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Features

Beyond the fiction of Alborada

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By Sarath Chandrajeewa

“No matter how much a work of art is sweet, if it hides the truth and disregards humanity it can only be equalled to a beautiful but empty shell that attracts us.” (L.E. Kerbel – Russian Sculptor)

‘Alborada’ is the Spanish word for ‘the dawn’. In 1984, a music group was born in Peru, South America by the same name and they gained immense popularity. Their music mainly spread among people in North and South America. Their music’s foundation was the traditional music of Native Americans who lived in the Andes mountain range (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTD2VDcxvNc). Likewise, in 2005 a soap opera by the same name was broadcast in Mexico, North America, which became very popular. This story was based on a series of events that took place during the historical period when Panama and Mexico were on the verge of gaining freedom from Spain (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8iM5s_d1vls).

In 2021 Asoka Handagama made a film in Sri Lanka by the same name, Alborada. The protagonist of this film is Pablo Neruda (1904 – 1973), the Chilean Consul in Ceylon for two years, from 1929 to 1931. He was very young, only 25, when he was appointed to this post. Ceylon was a colony at the time and he was lodged at No. 56, 42nd street, Wellawatte, Colombo 6, a place close to the sea. He had written down his reminiscences, in his own language, in book form. Later it was translated into English and published under the title ‘Memoirs’. According to this book, he had referred to his house as ‘My solitary bungalow’. It is said that the name Alborada was proposed by Pablo Neruda for the house of his friend, Lionel Wendt (1900 – 1944), who had lived at Guildford Crescent, Colombo 7.

Wendt too was fluent in several languages including English, Spanish and some other European languages. It is apparent, from documents and events that took place at that time, that his house, Alborada, had not been a lonely or tranquil place. It is clear that house Alborada was always full of people, such as painters, dancers, actors, photographers as well as pianists and those who enjoyed music. It was more like a cultural centre where discussions, art critiques and debates took place. (L.C. Van Geyzel, et al. [2000]. ‘Lionel Wendt: A Centennial tribute’. Lionel Wendt memorial fund; Sampath Bandara. [2017]. Lionel Wendt Kalava Saha Jeevithaya, Sarasavi Publication. [Sinhala]).

Though Handagama’s film was titled Alborada, the actual location, where incidents mentioned took place, was the Solitary Bungalow, the Chilean Consul’s official residence (Jamie James. [2019]. ‘Pablo Neruda’s life as a struggling Poet in Sri Lanka: A young poet’s Adventures in the Foreign Service’. Retrieved from https://lithub.com/pablo-nerudas-life-as-a-struggling-poet-in-sri-lanka/). In the 20th Century Sri Lankan context, Alborada was a distinguished active cultural centre. As a Sri Lankan cultural symbol, it directly connects with the character of Lionel Wendt. The creator of a work of art has the total freedom to create his work as he pleases and also to choose whatever name for the particular work. Handagama’s Alborada is similar to a poem, set to inspiring music. It includes a series of artistic figure compositions and features a number of skilled performing artistes. The trailer of Handagama’s film gave me some ideas.

When creating a work of art based on historical events, rather than myth and imaginary incidents, its trustworthiness depends on the people who faced the incident, the actual incidents, exact places, time period and the political and cultural background. Consequently, thorough research is necessary to identify accurate works based on historical incidents. It is difficult to rectify myths or false assumptions ingrained in society by unreliable books, documents, magazines or films. People will always embrace falsity, deception and myth, over the truth. Our culture as well as other cultures are replete with many such examples.

Alborada

‘Alborada’ is the name of Lionel Wendt’s house. It is important as it is the house of a great Sri Lankan cultural icon of the last century. It is also important as Alborada was the name given to the renowned cultural centre of modern history, in Sri Lanka. It is from this place that art activities in our country were taken to the international arena. Alborada was situated at No. 18 old Guildford Crescent. Today this street is called Premasiri Kemadasa Mawatha. Six years after his demise, in 1950 his friend Harold Peiris (1905-1981) demolished his old house, Alborada, and built a gallery and a performing arts centre (Lionel Wendt Art Gallery and Theatre) to commemorate him. It was designed by painter Geoffrey Beling (1907 – 1992), Principal Art Inspector, Department of Education, and Bernard G. Thornley (Manel Fonseka. [1994]. ‘Rediscovering Lionel Wendt, Lionel Wendt Photographs’. Deutsche Bank Colombo and Lionel Wendt Memorial Fund).

When Lionel Wendt was alive, renowned upcountry master dancers, Amunugama Suramba and Nittawela Ukkuwa used to lodge at Alborada with their troupes, when they visited Colombo (Dancer Dr. Vaidyavathi Rajapakse, daughter of Master Dancer Suramba, Personal communication, 2017).

A documentary movie ‘Song of Ceylon’, directed by Basil Wright in 1934, was placed first at the Brussels International film festival in 1935. The creative segments of the movie were organized at Alborada. Manel Fonseka reported in an article, ‘Rediscovering Lionel Wendt’ in 1994, that in an interview with Julia Margaret Cameron, Basil Wright had said this about Lionel Wendt; “I think he was one of the greatest still photographers that ever lived. I should place him among the six best I’ve come across”.

As a result of discussions held at Alborada, master dancers Nittawela Ukkuwa and Amunugama Suramba were taken to England for a recording of drum beats, for the movie ‘Song of Ceylon’. This trip was sponsored by painter Harry Peiris (1904-1988). A dance school was established to develop up-country dance, in Gunnepana, Sirimalwatte, Kandy in the 1920s for Master Suramba, as a result of discussions held among a group led by Wendt and George Keyt (1901-1993). This troupe, which included the group of up-country dancers, Ukkuwa, Nittawela Gunaya, Punchi Gura and Sri Jayana Rajapakse, was later upgraded as the ‘Dance Ensemble of Central Lanka’. Jayana’s coming of age ceremony, inclusive of his ‘Ves ceremony’, held at the Degaldoruwa Rajamaha Viharaya, Kandy, in 1939, and Jayana’s dance training in India later, were all sponsored by Wendt (Dr. Vaidyavathi Rajapakse, Personal communication, 2017).

The first art inspector appointed to Sri Lanka, during the colonial era, was Charles Freegrove Winzer (1886-1940), an Englishman. He became close friends with Wendt, during his tenure in Sri Lanka. In the early years, Winzer and Wendt both wrote reviews on exhibitions of George Keyt, Justin Peiris Deraniyagala (1903-1967) and Geoffrey Beling. Wendt also translated Neruda’s art reviews from Spanish to English and published them (Manel Fonseka.

[1994]. ‘Rediscovering Lionel Wendt, Lionel Wendt Photographs’. Deutsche Bank Colombo and Lionel Wendt Memorial Fund).

The first avant-garde art movement in Sri Lanka, the ’43 Group’, was born under the leadership of Winzer and Wendt. The 43 Group consisted of Wendt (Chief Organizer), painters Harry Peiris (Chief Secretary), George Keyt, J.W.G Beling, Richard Gabriel (1924-2016), Ivan Peiris (1921-1988), Justin Pieris Deraniyagala, George Claessen (1909-1999), Aubrey Collette (1920-1992) and L.T.P Manjusri (1902-1982). The meetings of the 43 group were held at Alborada until Wendt’s death.

Afterwards the meetings were held at the house of Harry Peiris, Sapumal Foundation, Barnes Place (Sarath Chandrajeewa. [2010]. ‘Modern Art in Sri Lanka and its socio-political environment’, Artful resistance: contemporary Art from Sri Lanka, ZKF publishers. Germany).

As mentioned above, Pablo Neruda was only 25 when he was in Sri Lanka as the Chilean Ambassador (1929-1931). At 29, Wendt was four years older. In his book ‘Memoirs’, translated from Spanish into English by Hardie St. Martin, published by Penguin, Neruda had written thus about Wendt, on page 93.

“Little by little the impenetrable crust began to crack open and I struck up a few good friendships. At the same time, I discovered the younger generation, steeped in colonialist culture, who talked only about books just out in England. I found out that the pianist, photographer, critic and cinematographer Lionel Wendt was the central figure of a cultural life torn between the death rattles of the Empire and a human appraisal of the untapped values of Ceylon.

Lionel Wendt, who owned an extensive library and received all the latest books from England, got into the extravagant and generous habit of every week sending to my house, which was a good distance from the city, a cyclist loaded down with a sack of books. Thus, for some time, I read kilometers of English novels, among them the first edition of Lady Chatterley’s Lover, published privately in Florence” (Memoirs by Pablo Neruda, translated from Spanish by Hardie St. Martin [1997]. Penguin Books).

To be continued

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Politics at its most primitive

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By Uditha Devapriya

Review of Shaveen Bandaranayake’s Groundswell

Sarasavi Publications, 2021, 118 pages, Rs. 300

Half-way into Shaveen Bandaranayake’s novel, the Minister at the heart of the story tells us that the wealth he earned was people, not money. This is what politicians usually say. In the very least, it is what people who dislike politicians imagine they say.

Come to think of it, both amount to the same thing: we’ve turned politicians into objects of hate so much that we’ve come to love them for being who we think they are. Since we can’t control them in real life, we want to dominate them in popular fiction. The number of plays and films that poke fun at Presidents, Prime Ministers, and Ministers testify to how badly we want to be, not like them, but above them.

I am deeply suspicious of satire of that sort. In his excellent review of Pusswedilla, Hafeel Farisz tells us why political parody ends up serving the people and objects being parodied. This is not rocket science. At its best, political satire can move us to anger, disenchantment, and rebellion. At its worst, it can lull us into a sense of complacency with things as they are and as they seem. Farisz seemed to think that Pusswedilla epitomised the latter, reinforcing cultural stereotypes while offering no proper critique of the political establishment and the ruling class. I suppose you can say the same thing of Vijaya Nandasiri’s comedies: at his best, he makes us aware of the corruption of the political class; at his worst, he turns the corrupt into objects of love-hate, full of tropes and clichés but nothing substantive.

Shaveen Bandaranayake’s Groundswell reads as a political satire, though I have my doubts. Interweaving different stories and unfolding like a film, it goes back and forth. I won’t call its ending funny, but then how can any novel involving politics end on a funny note?

What Bandaranayake does in his story, short as it is, is to tell us that nothing good can come out of a system mired as much in corruption as in patronage. Since these people are tied to each other through politics, politics can prove to be their undoing. The way he forays into this theme and explores it, without regurgitating the usual political clichés, puts the novel at a notch or two above what you come across at, say, the Lionel Wendt. Without conforming to crude stereotypes, he attempts to humanise his characters, showing us why connections matter in politics, and why they don’t always work out.

The plot is simple enough. A woman comes across a corpse of a man at the foot of a hill one fine morning. She informs the police. By the looks of it, he seems to have lost his grip and fallen to his death. The story then rewinds to a political rally at that most obtrusive site of political rallies, a temple, where we are introduced to Sarath Aluwihare, a Minister trying to win his next election. We are also introduced to Sunil, a young man endeavouring to land a job. Events will unfold in a way that will bring the two of them together.

We are told that Sarath hails from a family of politicians, and that this family has been in politics for over two generations. The surname tells us as much. Sunil, on the other hand, is so unobtrusive that Shaveen doesn’t grant him the privilege of a surname, which, after all, is the preserve of those who matter. Like other village youths lacking employment and in dire search of a patron from the ruling class, Sunil clearly is not important; even when he finds a job as Aluwihare’s driver, his status rises, but not so much as to protect him from the novel’s ending. He is as destined to his place in life as Aluwihare is to his.

There are other characters though, and they have surnames. There is the head priest of the temple, for instance, an unabashed admirer of Aluwihare who uses him to achieve his not so religious purposes. Then there is Dileepa Jayanetti, who rises “from rags to riches” and ends up becoming the owner of the country’s biggest media house. Dileepa finds his way up by befriending the daughter of another prominent politician, who introduces him to Aluwihare, who in turn becomes his biggest benefactor. You sense the pattern here.

Halfway through the story, Dileepa hires Lasantha Muthukumarana, a journalist who tries to stick to the tenets of his trade. Dileepa does this because he thinks that by hiring the honest, he can keep them from being honest. For someone who is so bright and manipulative, this is far from the most brilliant decision he could have taken: a few pages later, Muthukumarana is investigating a hit-and-run incident which may be connected to Aluwihare.

In Bandaranayake’s world, everyone seems to know everyone else. That is why it comes to no surprise that the man run down by a vehicle in the middle of the night should have been married to a woman Aluwihare just happened to hire at his Ministry, and that she should be rumoured to have formed the object of Aluwihare’s affections. That Lasantha thought for a moment that a news report linking all this to a prominent Minister would make it in a paper linked to and blessed by that Minister is, of course, intriguing. But he tries to get it published it anyway. When the predictable opprobrium follows and he finds he can’t get it in, the story moves to its inevitable and in many ways unsurprising conclusion.

In saying all this, I am by no means revealing the plot. In fact, surprising as it may seem, the plot is what least interests me about Bandaranayake’s novel. This is a narrative I have come across many times, in many forms. Bandaranayake takes great pains to make it all relevant to the immediate political situation, i.e. the one we are in, now. Those who manage to draw links between his characters and their “real-life counterparts” should, therefore, be forgiven for thinking that he has attempted political critique masquerading as satire. My interest in it, then, has less to do with the novel than the genre it belongs to.

If Groundswell can be called a satire, it is satirical only to the extent that his characters are caricatures. Yet, as I implied earlier, it is not a satire in the way that a work like Pusswedilla is. The characters fit into preconceived and familiar patterns, but that doesn’t make them the clichéd tropes they turn into elsewhere. These characters are more rounded, certainly more complex. Sarath Aluwihare, for instance, does not possess the overstuffed tummy his counterparts from countless parodies do, while Sunil doesn’t become a Renfield type figure hell bent on catering to his “Master.” Even though Bandaranayake can be facetious, and is pugnacious, he refuses to dabble in the kind of satirical humour which could have turned his story into a Vijaya Nandasiri style parody of politics in Sri Lanka.

Depending on how you view it, this may be the strongest point or the biggest weakness in Bandaranayake’s novel. Groundswell makes several important points, and they should be considered pertinent whether they be couched the language of satire or of serious political critique. The medium is hardly the message, contrary to what people might say, and the way you communicate your ideas should not really impact the importance of those ideas.

And yet, there are one or two episodes which reveal Bandaranayake’s funny side. It is here that the disjuncture between the satirical undertones and the ponderous overtones of the narrative, and the author’s voice, proves fatal to the development of the story.

Bandaranayake is at his best when he is setting up situations, and these situations are, all things considered, effective in setting up the plot. He tries to create atmosphere, and does a good job of laying the context. But when each and every point is prefaced by laboriously long explanations of social phenomena, such as the separation between temple and State in Sri Lanka, or the wretched fate encountered by a million or so menial workers in West Asia, you struggle to distinguish between the narrative and the commentary.

For local readers, these explanations will at best be passé. I suspect they will be for foreign readers as well. Groundswell is a novel, or more correctly a novella, which could have been shorter, tighter, and more effective without them. Not surprisingly, the story gains strength when Bandaranayake cuts to the chase, and loses track when he does not.

I have read this kind of story many times before. What makes this one interesting is that it is Bandaranayake’s first attempt at fiction, and that, for a first attempt, it’s damn good. Even within its limits, he has come up with something enjoyable. That I enjoyed the book, and of course the brilliant illustrations that more than just decorate it*, is why I wish it were leaner, shorter, and tighter. Less can be more. More often than not, it is.

* With one exception: the eighth drawing depicts a scene that, if you think about it carefully, is at odds with the text on the opposite page.

The writer can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com

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Thirty two little ballerinas win awards at TBSC’s 2021 prize giving

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Text and pictures by
PRIYAN DE SILVA

Thirty two little ballerinas were presented with certificates of achievements and awards at the 2021 prize giving of The Ballet school of Colombo (TBSC) held recently.

Directors of TBSC Tara Cooke and Romina Gyi said that they were extremely proud of the achievements of their charges and thanked the students and parents for their dedication in attending classes diligently despite the trying conditions.

Certificates of achievement were awarded in the baby ballet, junior ballet and intermediate ballet categories to students who excelled in pre-classical and pre-jazz ballet.

Debbie McRitchie, International Director of the Commonwealth Society of Teachers of Dancing (to which TBSC is affiliated), in her congratulatory message thanked the parents for investing in their childrens dance education and the teachers of TBSC for preparing the candidates. She said that dance is like life and is a journey but not a destination and encouraged all stakeholders to work harder.

The prize giving was a proud moment for both students and parents as it was a parent who presented the certificates of achievement to their child. Five-year-old Shenaya de Alwis Samarasinghe was the youngest candidate at the prize giving, passing with honours in pre-classical ballet.

The Ballet School of Colombo was the former ‘Oosha Garten Sschool of Ballet’ pioneered by the late Kalasuri Oosha Saravanamuttu-Wijesinghe and was instituted as the ‘The Ballet School of Colombo’ in 2016.

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