Two performers not often seen took the Delhi stage this past week. LEELA VENKATARAMAN
Priyamvada Kant
In the sea of new female dancers continuing to appear at regular intervals on the dance scene, it was a welcome change to find a really proficient male dancer taking the stage in Habitat’s Stein auditorium under the HCL concert series. A disciple of Bharatanatyam dancer/teacher Jayalakshmi Eshwar, Vasudevan’s dance bears the Kalakshetra imprint, imbibed from his guru.
In a thoughtfully conceived programme, heralded by the Purandaradasa invocation in Attana raga “Sakala Jaga Bala Neeye Sarasijaksha”, Vasudevan began with the less known Sambander kavutuvam of the Tanjore quartette in Chatusra Eka tala set to Arabhi raga. The varnam in Kanada “Bhajare Raghu Ramam” based on verses composed by the Shankaracharya of Shakatapuram Sri Krishnaananda Teertha, set to music by Kamala Sreenivasan, comprised an episodic treatment of the Ramayana from the yagnya and birth of Dasaratha’s sons to the killing of Ravana. Danced with as much involvement as rhythmic exactitude (particularly the immaculate arudis in the charanam) the dancer gave proof of equipoise, technical command and unflagging stamina. The only less-than-perfect part of the movement geometry was in the unfinished straight hand stretches to the back in the faster passages.
Vasudevan
The marathon varnam notwithstanding, the item of the evening was the Sindhu Bhairavi bhajan, a not-often-rendered Swati Tirunal composition “Visweshwara darshan kar chal man tum Kashi”, the dancer at his best in visualising pilgrims young and old, seeking the blessings of the saviour of Markandeya. He is the dancer in the crematorium presiding over life and death. Jayalakshmi’s sensitive choreography was a feature. The Suruti tillana, an Oothukadu Venkata Kavi composition, ushered in the finale for a commendable effort accompanied by Jayalakshmi’s nattuvangam lead, K. Venkateshwaran’s melodious vocal support and Tanjavoor Kesavan’s spirited mridangam. Flautist G. Raghuraman and Shyamala Bhasker on the veena provided tuneful instrumental support. The musical flute needed toning down not to drown the singer’s thin voice. The only drawback in a painstaking, largely narrative performance, special for a male dancer, was that neither the shringar element nor the interpretative ability to elaborate without telling a story found space. The dancer’s costume sense can improve.
Indisputable talent
Indisputable talent, stage presence, feel for writing and poetry, overflowing enthusiasm for trying out new themes, dancer Priyamvada Kant has it all – not to speak of the additional thrust and drive provided by mother Ratnabali Kant, and the Odissi training under Madhavi Mudgal. Priyamvada’s Vatsalya (parental love), a dance theatre performance at Alliance Francaise, was woven round the theme of the hapless existence of the child born as neither male nor female, given away to be raised by a community of eunuchs. The mother yearns to nurture her own child, but societal attitudes dictate.
The treatment of an undoubtedly difficult subject was too sketchy, the first scene of the ‘neuter gender’ (Priyamvada, too much the attractive young female in her costume) dancing graceful Odissi rather aimlessly and with repetitive movements to depict what one presumes is the lone activity of such people. Music on the sound-tape punctuated by the hard clapping at regular intervals provided the ‘hijra’ touch, though the dancer’s own soft clapping was an apology – obviously hesitant to offend Odissi sensibilities, specially with her guru seated in front. The dancing, barring the mother/child glimpse, lacked focus and definitive statement. The best part of the production was the short film – an aesthetic metaphor for the tragedy of such young lives denied parental love and unaccepted by society. Earthen lamps held in manicured hands with the still burning wick, are submerged in flowing waters, the orange glow of douched flames beneath the surface suggesting all the ardour of young lives snuffed out. Down below on the bed of the river, the sad piling of lamp on lamp speaks of lives consigned to ghettos away from the eyes of society.
The not very sur-conscious music of Anindita Mukherjee helped create a naturalness without artificial expertise. Priyamvada should continue to experiment with dance and theatre – perhaps with less hype. Her talent must be allowed to evolve naturally.
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