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 e-mail: leelakaverivenkat@gmail.com Beyond margam expressions December 3, 2024 MANDALA -A MOVING PSYCHOLOGICAL MUSIC/DANCE INTERACTION Presented at Chennai's Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan auditorium, Mandala was a truly interactive music/dance artistic journey between two classical artistes - dancer Amrita Lahiri and musician Chandana Bala Kalyan. Mandala, the symbolism representing sacred space (in Hinduism and Buddhism) with concentric circles converging in one center, becomes a metaphor for one's search for the sacred, traversing through several journeys in search of that center, which one finally realizes, is within. India's classical music and dance have always been regarded as a search for that oneness through works, in this production representing different states of being - sringar (love), viraha (separation), maya (illusion) and aikya (dissolution), the final state of getting merged into that, which one has been seeking.  Amrita Lahiri and Chandana Bala Kalyan Courtesy: Serendipity Festival Overseen and directed by Amrita's Bharatanatyam Guru Leela Samson, whose choice of songs pertains to many languages by poets/musicians from all parts of the country, like Meerabai, Annamacharya, Dharmapuri Subbarayar, Kshetrayya, Kanaka Dasa, Kabir, Soyarabai, the work has been visualized in the Kuchipudi dance form by Amrita herself (trained in Kuchipudi under Guru Jaikishore Mosalikanti). In tune with Kuchipudi heroines like Satyabhama with her yearning for Krishna, it is deity Alamelu Manga who emerges as the personified nayaki of Mandala's highly emotional journey, seeking to merge with her Lord Venkateshwara. While the selected compositions are familiar to music/dance enthusiasts, the creative aspect lies in their arrangement in a progression of psychological states - with realization finally dawning on the seeker that the secret lies in delving inwards. The audience experiences a saga of melodic modes like Shyam Kalyan, Sindhu Bhairavi, Senjurutti, Paras, Varaali, Gopriya et al, rendered in the trilling richness of singer Chandana Bala Kalyan's voice, coupled with the dancer's supreme grace, in a blend of spiritualty with subdued sensuality, making for a music/dance journey of involved togetherness, carrying the audience with them. The keynote was simplicity, starting with the costume teamed with elegant silver jewellery with no loud touches, with the total accent on the singing word, sans any of the embroidered frills of instrumental accompaniment. The unalloyed simplicity kept the attention rivetted on the situation of the seeker. Of course, carrying off such a situation needed a strong, delightfully confident singer capable of sustaining a whole performance on the singing alone. The journey of searching for sringar togetherness begins with the young nayaki's adoration for the Lord - vicariously suggested even in everyday actions like daily prayers, while decorating the image of the loved one (like Meera adorning her statue of Krishna). With the slightly older nayika comes the physicality of idyllic togetherness in sambhoga sringar represented through Annamacharya's creation Emuko Chiguratadharamuna. Alamelu Manga, carrying on her rumpled person the tell-tale signs of her first night with Venkateshwara, is teased and questioned by the sakhis. The supremely confident nayika basking in the glow of sringar togetherness, is glimpsed in Dharmapuri Subbarayar's Javali Smara sundaranguni sari evvare in raga Paras, with all the self-satisfaction and pride of the swadheenapatika, who boasts that her loved one will not cross limits set by her. But alas! Disappointment soon knocks on the door for the nayika with viraha, spent in the agony of waiting for a Lord who does not come. Poet Kshetrayya's Valapu dasa nerane in the sombre tones of raga Varali reveal the grieving nayika confiding in her sakhi, Sakhi prana (song in Senjurutti and composition of Dharmapuri Subbarayar again) comparing her forlorn state with the days gone by, when the Lord wanted a light during the whole night to feast his eyes on her! Is all this love a mere illusion, a maya, she wonders. The singer, apart from rendering the songs, becomes the other in the production - as the sakhi or the compere explaining a situation and talking about the state of maya or illusion. She chooses Kanaka Dasa's poetry in Kannada language, which, in her own musical composition, is set to raga Gopriya. Mentioning the reason for her choice of raga, the singer demonstrated the scale - whether in arohana or avarohana reaching the same point, reminding us in an indirect manner of the concentric circles of the Mandala, finally arriving at the core.  Amrita Lahiri Courtesy: Serendipity Festival As the singer/compere took the stage, the dancer took time off for a change of costume. Reappearing sans any jewellery in a simple getup, with a waist long top, sans the melakku covering, clearly suggesting that in the state of total surrender neither gender concerns, nor looks matter, for here, one is transcending the body (which all this time has held you prisoner). And with her reed slim figure, the dancer, one felt, carried off this getup with aplomb and nonchalance. But for those in the audience grounded in a culture of specifics, the dress code plays a significant part. And doubtless, from the more conservative group, questions were raised about the costume. While we keep saying that dance should rise above the body, one wonders why people find it so difficult to think of body as just a medium of expression - forgetting gender terms. The second part began with a demonstration of how the Kuchipudi medium was used to go with the music. And here all praise to Amrita working along with the musician. In a work predominating in internalized states-of-being, the natural rhythmic virtuosity this dance form delights in, was submerged in leg sweeps in the air and soft foot contact, with even the ankle bell sounds very gentle. Maya or the inner voice begins to speak and here Kabir's poetry comes in. "Where are you searching? I am right here." And the understanding dawns that one needs to search within to arrive at the truth. And what a wonderful choice to end with the Marathi abhang. Nothing could suggest the idea of aikya more convincingly. One would be guilty of omission in forgetting to mention the wonderfully suggestive lighting by Gyandev Singh. It added a great deal to the mood. A fine example of braiding old texts with new ways of expression. TO DUST WE RETURN Yet another non-Margam performance conceived and presented by Anuradha Venkataraman, harnesses the Bharatanatyam technique in a stark dance theatre production - expressing deep seated anguish at how, what one mistakenly deems as Progress, has not only fatally damaged the environment leaving Planet Earth gasping for breath, but has also contributed to creating an unbridgeable chasm between the privileged few as against the largely neglected sections of society.  Anuradha Venkataraman Photo: Aryan Bayari 'Bound by Soil - A requiem for the forgotten' presented at the mini auditorium of Chennai's Alliance Francaise, revealed a performer whose Bharatanatyam knowhow (trained for years at Delhi's Ganesa Natyalaya under Guru Saroja Vaidyanathan), has over the years acquired enhanced strength and conviction, enabling the dancer's reaching out to cosmopolitan audiences in new ways. Not satisfied with being just a promising Bharatanatyam performer, Anuradha has topped it with academic qualifications of a post graduate in Art and Aesthetics from JNU, and M.Phil in cultural studies from Jain University, coupled with the practical experience of acting for years with Nisha Theatre. Broadening the outlook on how the language of dance can be used, has obviously resulted from her involvements outside the country - of residency with OMI Dance Residency in New York and with Puppet Theatre S. Korea, and collaborating with the Physical Dance Theatre of Instabili Vaganti, co-creating a work Dante-Beyond Borders, premiered in Italy and in India. In her creation of over half a dozen works, of which the latest is Bound by Soil, one can see how her creative imagination has been shaped by an enhanced understanding of the versatility of the Bharatanatyam vocabulary, along with a love for working with objects. This latest work was spurred on reading a very unsettling article as far back as 2016, on the tale of unmitigated woe of a woman from a marginalized community, on being unable to find burial space for her dead. The irony of constant advertisements in newspapers of large spaces and buildings attracting the haves, while the homeless destitute have nowhere to even bury their dead, smote the conscience. Smarting from the haunting image of the body of a near and dear one buried, for want of space, near a riverbed, being washed away in a storm, the dancer pondering on how to give vent to her mental agony, finally began to work on this production drawing on ONV Kurup's poem Bhomikorru Charamageetam. Much like the irreverent trampling of Mother Earth without a thought for what one is doing to the ecology and the future of life on this planet, are the dancer's parallel thoughts on treatment of the other generous life giver - Woman over-burdened and treated with little consideration. Both are characterized by a generosity of spirit of bountiful giving. Thus, Earth in the production becomes a metaphor for deprived woman and vice versa.  Anuradha Venkataraman Photo: Aryan Bayari Vishnu as Vamana, manifested to save Mother Earth from the clutches of demon King Bali. But who will come as the rescuer now of imperiled Earth! For a production of this nature, how one plans the music is very important. In fact, dance creator and musician need to work together. And here Anuradha has been generously aided by persons like music composer D.S. Srivatsa of Bangalore whose creations with raga suggestions and Tanam interludes are voiced by singer Deepti Srinath. Equally significant is the mridangam support of R. Sriganesh, with Preeti Bharadwaj's nattuvangam, with rhythm coming as a counterpoint, suggesting mood and the emotion without words. With flute played by Mahesh Swamy, what I found very dramatic were the interludes with just the morsing played by Mahesh Swamy. Covering stage space circularly to suit ideas of the round Earth, was the use of objects like yards of white cloth rolled out in a slant across the stage space, being gathered fold by fold by the mother - each fold representing a dead child. Recitation of the Sanskrit passages starting with the Bhoomi Suktam, was yet another very dramatic touch. A standing contraption like a Totem Pole at the centre of the stage at the back, topped with a grimacing face in an anguished expression, were strings taking off from the centre and going all round like the spokes of a wheel, each with an object at the end. Held in hand at the conclusion, and lightly twirled by the dancer as she moves in a circle is a final statement, more like a dirge for the slowly disintegrating earth. A cry of 'Mother, you are dying and yet nobody cares' leaves a stricken feeling behind! Not meant to be pretty, the work most certainly communicates the message. It is a sad situation for the art form when a mini auditorium cannot even be half filled for the show!  Writing on the dance scene for the last forty years, Leela Venkataraman's incisive comments on performances of all dance forms, participation in dance discussions both in India and abroad, and as a regular contributor to Hindu Friday Review, journals like Sruti and Nartanam, makes her voice respected for its balanced critiquing. She is the author of several books like Indian Classical dance: Tradition in Transition, Classical Dance in India and Indian Classical dance: The Renaissance and Beyond. Post your comments Please provide your name and email id along with your comment. All appropriate comments posted with name and email id in the blog will also be featured in the site. |
