Roja Kannan

It was quiet, conventional Bharatanatyam without any of the hype which goes with some contemporary recitals in Roja Kannan’s performance for the high noon slot in Music Academy’s Dance Festival 2008. The dancer had the great asset of a fi ne take-off point in the high calibre of the supporting team led by her guru Adyar K. Lakshmanan wielding the cymbals with Radha Badri for singing, Nellai Kannan on the mridangam, R. Kaliarasan on the violin and T.Sashidhar on the flute.

After starting with her guru’s composition of Nandichol and Siva Dhyanam set to raga Vasant, Roja proceeded to the centrepiece of Ponniah Pillai’s navaragamalika varnam, ‘Saami Ninne Kori’ set to Rupakam. The message of the nayika who has lost her heart to Tanjapuri Vasa was communicated with dignity in a savoured leisurely fashion with the interpretative part enhanced through fine sancharis.

While the dancer’s abhinaya facility was evident, the rhythm-correct dancing, in the drut passages, lacked articulated geometrical clarity in movement, looking hurried. This did not take away from the quality of the sparkling teermanams recited with authority by guru Adyar Lakshmanan, full of a musicality coming from the organic growth of the rhythmic interlude, where the arithmetic of numbers becomes poetry. Some of the contemporary teermanams have the dazzling cleverness without the aesthetics at times. The varnam rose to a high note of climax in the charanam, ‘Satileni Kalyani’.

The purely interpretative part of the recital spoke, beginning with the Kshetragna padam in Anandabhairvai, ‘Emani Thelpudu’ portraying the separation pangs of the proshitapatika, temporarily bereft of her husband away on work, the internalised abhinaya full of conviction. The slow pace of the song, sung with feeling by Radha, became a metaphor epitomising the drag of time as the nayika in her loneliness reminisces on the moments of his leave taking. Striking a contrasting mood was the javali, a Swati Tirunal composition in Behag, ‘Saramaina’ projecting the duped and angry khandita nayika. Roja concluded with the tillana in Sankarabharanam, a composition of Moolaiveetu Rangaswamy Nattuvanar. Again the manner in which each karvai forms one unit with one movement idea from an adavu taken to the finish giving this genre of the margam a definite identity, is not always seen in the choreography of tillanas now.

Source: The Hindu

Vijayanthi Mala's rich tapestry of emotions

" The performance, by Vyjayantimala, who touched upon the miracles of Krishna, retained an old world charm."writes Rupa Srikanth In the Hindu

In the background, a violin pours forth a hauntingly beautiful Madhyamavathi melody while young, excited Gopis take centre stage.

One of them cautiously tests the temperature of the water with her toes before she calls out to her friends and steps in. It feels deliciously cold and they quickly submerge themselves.

Another Gopi holds her breath in the water for a count of 10 and challenges the others to do the same. Ablutions done, the Gopis come out of the water shivering, they find their clothes missing, and look up to see the prankster, it is none other than Krishna.

‘Irumen Saayal Nudanga Nudangi’ was one of many warm anecdotes describing the glory of ‘Tirumal’ in ‘Aiychiyar Kuravaik Kooththu.’ Taken from the Madurai Kandam of Ilango Adigal’s Silappadikaaram, the original kooththu had seven cowherd women who dance to ward off evil omens in the shepherdess Madhari’s home. This was choreographed and presented by Vyjayantimala Bali as a solo show.

The performance, though tailored for a proscenium and a limited timeframe, retained an old world charm because of the informal air the dancer maintained. The draped-not-stitched sari, the simple props and the largely unstructured style of presentation were some points of reference. For example, in the opening scene when Madhari and her daughter go to the cowshed to find the cows restless and the milk not set as curds, Vyjayantimala’s props were a humble wooden buttermilk churner and a rope. It was the simple things that made the greatest impact.

The music and the dance were however not so simple. Researched by M.A.Venkatakrishnan, Bhuma Venkatakrishnan and Prof. S.Raghuraman with the music composed by S.Ramanathan, the verses were presented with respect for its authentic reference. The seven dancers named according to the seven notes of the musical scale with each given a characterisation like Krishna, Balaram, etc. were details that were laid out clearly, as were the original pann and the adapted ragam for each verse.

The dancer wove a rich tapestry of emotions with bold colours and deft strokes. She touched upon the miracles of Krishna always leaving behind a trail of wonderment and devotion. There were many tales to tell and not always connected or in a chronological order, but it was in the simple telling that Vyjayantimala scored. From the mischief of the ‘Gopi vastra haran,’ the mood changed gears to the Kurukshetra battle field and Arjuna avenging Abhimanyu’s death. The dancer was as effective as a hapless father on a bloodied battlefield grieving over his son’s unfair killing. As involved in the rendering were Vyjayantimala’s musicians. Kandadevi S.Vijayaraghavan’s (violin) participation was most enthusiastic, while Vanathy Raghuraman (vocal) and C.K.Patanjali (flute) maintained strong melody. S.S.R. Krishnan (mridangam) and Jayashree Ramanathan (nattuvangam) kept unobtrusive yet effective rhythm.

Neat portrayal on Annamacharya by Padma Subrahmanyam.

It is a fact that Dr. Padma Subrahmanyam is a complete entertainer. It is also a fact that though she is an accomplished dancer, musician, scholar and dramatist, these qualifications are only incidental to the larger picture. She takes culture to the common man by breaking down its stylistic and sophisticated barriers and bringing it to its lowest common denominator, within the framework of aesthetic art. Her presentations address the basic concerns of good music and good drama. No less, no more.

‘Annamayya Pratibha’ was no different. Padma strung a garland from the aromatic ‘flower offerings’ of the pre-Trinity saint composer, Annamacharya, and gave each of the devotional padas a visual dimension. For a part of the recital, it was biographical and for the rest, it was devotional and spiritual.

Vivid sketch

Her sketch of Annamacharya’s dream, his pilgrimage to Tirumala and his encounter with Goddess Alamelu Manga in ‘Ippuditu Kalaganti’ (Bowli) and in ‘Ammaku Talapakkam’ was warm and vivid, sometimes light hearted and sometimes poignant, but always made an impact.

There is also a hint of tongue-in-cheek irreverence in her characterisations that she is able to pull off simply because she is willing to laugh at herself as well. The bhajan group (abhang) on their way to the Seven Hills was one such vignette. The pilgrims being overawed by the imposing mountains and the ritual breaking of the coconut before the climb were not spared either.

Annamacharya is unable to keep up with the group and falls behind. Exhausted, he breaks down. A woman comes to him and offers him a laddu. Eating it, he feels refreshed and looks around to thank her but she is gone. He realises that the woman was none other than Alamelu Mangai Thayar. With the chanting of the Sri Venkatesa Prapatti in the background, the sensitive role play created a very powerful moment.

One can see that Padma choreographs the music as she does for dance. Not only are there other texts like the Venkatesa Suprabhatham interwoven into the score, but the treatment of the sankeertans themselves is unusual. She not only chooses ragas to suit the portrayals but incorporates a strong rhythmic component within the melody. Well-orchestrated pauses in the music are also used to good effect.

Padma had the able support of Gayathri Kannan (vocal) who masterminded the effort in the wings along with B. Kannan (veena), Vijayalakshmi Krishnamurthy (vocal), Nagai Sriram (mridangam), N. Sundar (morsing, tabla), Devaraj (flute), Thanjavur Subba Rao (violin) and Shyamakrishnan (dholak). Her resource persons were scholars Pappu Venugopala Rao and V.A.K.Ranga Rao.

To continue with the story, Annamcharya reaches Tirumala and sees the Lord being taken out in a procession in ‘Veedhula veedhula’ (Gambhira Nattai). It was a glorious sight to behold; for twenty-five minutes, Padma brought the grand spectacle alive — isn’t this what art is all about?

Source:The Hindu

Amour by Shamuga Sundaram

"The love for Bharatanatyam makes Shanmuga Sundaram explore new themes for his performances.
A senior disciple of guru K. J. Sarasa, Shanmuga Sundaram got inspired by the sculptures of the famous French sculptor Auguste Rodin.

Amour, which means love in French, is an attempt by dancer Shanmuga Sundaram, to explore the delicate nuances of love as portrayed by sculptor Rodin. He will express his perceptions of the sculptor through Bharatanatyam.
This thematic dance performance was staged earlier for Alliance Francaise, Pondicherry and Madras in August this year.
Shanmugha Sundaram will present this again this season at the Bharat Kalachar on Jan. 11, 2008"
Source: KutcheriBuzz

Rukmini Devi's Shyama

" It had no props of any type whatsoever and the dance visualisation never aimed at cleverness or ornamentation. "says Leela venkatraman in her Hindu review...
Dialogue between regional cultures is not a strange phenomenon today in the world of dance. But imagine a work emerging in 1947 having Rabindranath Tagore’s libretto in Bengali, sung by Carnatic music trained voices with percussion effects crea ted by instruments indigenous to Kerala and Tamil Nadu, and the dance language a blend of unalloyed Bharatanatyam on the one hand and Kathakali on the other ! Rukmini Devi’s production of Shyama was a tribute to Tagore, and the then very feeble old poet is said to have been delighted to watch in the privacy of his home, Rukmini Devi herself dance what she had envisioned from the work of the great Master.

Shyama represents the poet’s view of the same stream of life living in all of us and as one passes through “this crowded market of this world” one carries the pangs of sorrow in dreams and wakeful hours. Shyama is the story of love that cannot live in the ecstasy of the present, for the pain and ache of how it was brought about are too big a burden for memory to overcome.

Shyama, the beautiful court dancer, loses her heart to Vajrasena the merchant prince who, thanks to his unwillingness to sell his rare necklace to the King, is imprisoned. Arranging to have the prisoner substituted willingly by a silent admirer Uttiya, who is later executed, Shyama gets united with Vajrasena but only till the latter learns of how his freedom has been gained. Thereafter the agony of guilt and sorrow for a life lost to enable their togetherness, tars the relationship.

With no props of any type whatsoever and dance visualisation which never aims at cleverness or ornamentation, ‘Shyama’ is the very epitome of simplicity. And yet the manner in which Bharatanatyam movement goes so naturally with the elongated drawn out Bengali words is amazing. Even more unselfconscious is the Kathakali used for the male dancers, the nritta in typical Kalasam fashion seeming to follow so inevitably after each interpretative sequence.

More or less embalmed into non-existence since 1980 or thereabout, Pushpa Shankar’s endeavour at recreating the work must have entailed quite a few curdles. What must have greatly aided the process is the vocal support of an old Kalakshetra veteran Seetharama Sharma, who after the show was greeted by an Australian admirer who recollected hearing his singing for the production in Melbourne in 1966! It is a heartening sight to see old Kalakshetrans like Chinna Sarada, Adyar Lakshmanan and Seetarama Sharma revisiting their alma mater for it is through interaction with such persons that the young students will get an inner feel of what Kalakshetra represents.

While Seetarama’ Sharma’s singing could not completely sound Bengali in intonation, it caught the musical and melodic essence of Tagore faithfully apart from combining well with the female voice of Swastika Mukhopadayay of Santiniketan. The Hindustani ragas whether Behag, (Sindhu) Bhairavi, or Desh, with the Begali words, have a distinct flavour. The nattuvangam by Seetarama Sharma and Jyolsana Menon, and the rest of the music crew were their usual well rehearsed selves.

Hari Padman made a fine Vajrasena, a role as different from his swashbuckling musketeer character in Masquerades as chalk from cheese. From his ecstatic “E ki ananda” and his “Esho Priye” to the rejection of love in “Jao Priye Pao” he was most communicative. Sheejith Nambiar as Uttiya and Jayakrishnan as the Kotwal played their parts well. Haritha acquitted herself well in the main role as Shyama. The dancing quality of the entire troupe was of a high standard.

What needs to be noted is how a production eschewing virtuosity of any type or speed, still manages to hold audience attention. In today’s love for padding which takes up more space than the main framework of the narrative, such stark simplicity would be considered simplistic!

Shobana Spells Colour and creativity

" There was richness all around — in the music, in the orchestration and in the abhinaya, besides the richness in Shobana’s costumes." says Rupa Srikanth in her Hindu review...

Shobana ought to get full marks for visualisation. She had worked out a breathtaking opening at Bharat Kalachar; the curtains went up on her recital to a brilliant frieze with six dancers, all bathed in a pool of yellow light from the wings. Dressed in pleasing yellows and oranges, they sprang to life with the Mallari (Gambhira Nattai, Adi) with vibrant adavus set in khanda nadai.

Shobana is this year’s Nritya Choodamani awardee, and her recital was an unapologetic display of glamour, colour and creativity. She is an artist of high calibre and creativity is her strength. However, there is a tendency to get carried away with it. The routine aspects too need attention and one felt the lack of application in the nritta segments. One missed her play with laya as well. Despite this shortcoming, there was richness all around that evening — in the music, in the elaborate orchestration and in the abhinaya, besides of course the obvious richness in Shobana’s costumes. Her frequent costume changes triggered Mrs.Y.G.Parthasarathy’s comment, “Shobana is a quick-change artist!”

The veteran art-promoter was right; Shobana is a quick-change artist in more than one sense. Her expressions are so quick and sharp, she can capture nuances in expressions so easily. In the Dikshitar kriti, (Mamava Pattabhirama, Manirangu, misra chapu) she did this in the Pattabhishekam scene and gave each character a distinct gait and expression

The Dasavathara depicted in the Swati Tirunal composition (Kamalajasya,

ragamalika, Adi) was perhaps the best one has seen in that genre. Each avatar had a storyline behind it and again it was her treatment that made the difference. Her portrayals are original and instinctive. The Vishwaroopa seen through the eyes of King Mahabali was one such instance. The king is not only shocked at the Brahmin-dwarf’s growing form, but one could see the changing expressions on the king’s face as the form grew bigger and truth dawned on the proud king.

As elevating as the sancharis were, as disappointing was the nritta. The Dasavathara kirtanam was then the best and the worst in the evening’s offerings. Nattuvangam (Revathi Kumar) was hardly heard; nor were the bells on the dancer’s feet. Only the mridangam (Ramakrishnan) served as the torchbearer for nritta. Shobana’s students who joined her occasionally were more enthusiastic about nritta. They were: Suma, Seetha, Archana, Bhavani, Ashwini, Chitra, Aparajita, Anoorupitha, Shivani and Gayathri.

It goes without saying that melody ruled. Radha Badri (vocal) excelled in her rendering. Artists of a high calibre — Seetharama Sharma (violin), Rajhesh Vaidya (veena) and the occasional eddakya (Krishna Kumar), supported her excellently.

Anita Ratnam stirs the intellect

Here is review of Anita Ratnam's new production , "“Faces – Blessed Unrest,”

One cannot assess a performance by Anita Ratnam like any other Bharatanatyam recital. If broken into its separate parts — the selected themes, the songs danced to, the use of the Bharatanatyam technique — it might seem no different generically from the kutcheri format. Surely, a deviation in the cut of the costumes alone would not suffice. So what makes her performances different? Perhaps the very fact that they make one think.

Most Bharatanatyam performances taking place today that are worthy of evaluation tend to fall into the category of devotional, spiritual, technically impressive, or plain entertaining. But few stir the intellectual faculties. Anita Ratnam succeeds in doing this, with her holistic approach to choreography, the spoken word, sets, lighting design and costumes.

Another way of categorising those concerns would be angika, vachika and aharya. Is it then, old wine in a new bottle? Yes, but with an honesty not associated with the phrase. Because the wine has been filtered every time. And it is the filter that gives a taste of freshness. So it was with her latest production “Faces – Blessed Unrest,” premiered at the Krishna Gana Sabha this past Friday.

“Faces” is a collection of five of the most well known and beloved compositions from the devotional-classical tradition of Carnatic music. After a poetic introduction that was part of the soundtrack, the dancer began with ‘The Face of Compassion,’ introduced by the hymn to Annapurna, Nityanandakari, Varabhayakari, Soundaryaratnakari. Images of generosity represented by dance postures as well as literal actions like pouring of rice conveyed the spirit.

The dancer did not shy away from performing in complete silence at times — refreshing but all too rare in the contemporary classical dance scenario. The highlight of the piece was the beautifully sung Sama raga kriti “Annapurne Vishalakshi.”

The female voice rendering the Dikshitar composition was all that it should have been in terms of emotion and melody. The only jarring factor was the singer’s repeatedly pronouncing Vishalakshi as “Visalakshi”, which became an irritant, especially in a programme where attention to detail was high.

Another high point of the evening was ‘The Forgotten Face,’ represented by “Asai Mugam,” a Subramania Bharathi composition that melts the heart of the romantic and blurs the line between love and devotion. Here, seated on the floor, the dancer conveyed the wrenching lyrics with almost no mudras. It was a triumph of abhinaya, and of the seamless blending of dance, lighting and music. The English text, here and throughout the programme, by Aparna, was beautiful.

In ‘Timeless Faces’ the dancer told the entire Ramayana (“Tell me the story of infinite faces…”) against a voice alap and no lyrics, in the opposite approach to the previous song. It was a series of allusive images. The finale, ‘The Face of Blissful Surrender,’ was based on a Meera bhajan. The final image of an ecstatic Meera rising from the floor in an attitude of blissful expectation was effective.

Credit for the attractiveness of the package goes also to the soothing music score composed and arranged by pianist Anil Srinivasan, (assisted by associate music director Vedanth Bharadwaj). Srinivasan’s piano chords, fused unobtrusively with Carnatic classical, provided a moving ambience. Vocalists on the soundtrack included O.S.Arun, Sikkil Gurucharan, Revathy Sankkaran, Subhiksha Rangarajan. Light design was by Mithran Devanesan.

Costumes by Sandhya Raman were aesthetic, and, with the exception of the last, which resembled a gown, did credit to the trimmed down Anita. The last costume did not seem to gel with the movement vocabulary, and so neither did justice to the other.

Overall, the production, which could not rely on convention — a cushion available to standard format Bharatanatyam performances — may not have been comprehensible to an audience not at home with the songs. But it created some wonderful sound and light images and engendered a feeling of serenity.

From The Hindu review by Anjana Ranjan

Rajeswari Sainath’s performance.

" Clear footwork, energy and pleasing rhythmic patterns were the hallmarks of Rajeswari Sainath’s performance.", says Rupa Srikanth in her review in The Hindu.

There is a perceptible change in Rajeswari Sainath’s dance style –it is to do with the ratio between mathematics and mime. The dancer has a penchant for laya and this preoccupation usually dominates her recitals, but this time there was more balance. Both areas were given their due notwithstanding the disparity in the expertise- for, her mime is not as polished as her sense of rhythm.

Clear footwork, good energy, pleasing rhythmic patterns and a good range of adavus were the hallmarks of the performance. The dance by itself could do with more geometry and a tauter body.

On the musical side, Murali Parthasarthy (vocal) was not always on track, but Kandadevi S.Vijayaraghavan (violin) and Saravanan (flute) were alert enough to take over and ensure the smooth flow of melody. Srinivas (nattuvangam) and Nellai D.Kannan (mridangam) kept rhythm with precision through the hills and dales of varying speeds.

The recital commenced with a beautiful ‘Laya Kavidhai- Anbe Sivam’ (Priyadarshini ragam, misram) conceived by veteran mridangist Karaikudi Mani, penned by Su Ravi and composed by Balasai, that lived up to its claim of ‘poetry in rhythm.’ The verse and mnemonic syllables (Adit Narayanan) resonated in perfect harmony. While the vilamba and madhayama kaalam sollus were straightforward counts of seven, the dhurita kaalam was manipulated to include a third speed tisram sequence and a fourth speed misram section. In reverse order, the sequence turned a full circle and came back to a slow vilamba kaalam count-this descent was one of the most beautiful moments that evening. The Siva Tandava was both an aural and a visual treat.

The same technique of symbolism in nritta that worked in the opening composition was not as effective to espouse the theory of the three deities being one in ‘Trimurthi Tatvam’ (ragamalika, panchatalam, written by Kavi Kannan, tuned by Balasai). This was despite the liberal dose of spirituality provided by vedic chants compiled by Seshadri Ganapadigal and recited by G.K.Srinivasan.

The only composition that presented abhinaya without a framework of tala was the varnam, ‘Adiyarthanai’ (ragamalika, Adi, written by Rajkumar Bharathi and Kavi Kannan) on Vittala of Pandarpur. Karaikudi Mani composed the theermanams for this vibrant composition as well. Rajeswari portrayed the stories of Vittala’s devotees- Namadeva, Janabai and Chokkamela- with warmth and involvement. She was equally focused in the nritta portions as well; her fast paced ‘tha tai thams’ that featured in the second half of the 45-minute varnam said it all.

Season Glimpses

Excerpts from Narthaki reviews by Lalitha Venkat

Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan is one organization that offers its programs free for rasikas during the Chennai season. Being centrally located, these shows naturally attract a full house on most days.

DEC. 12.
Gangani concluded his Kathak recital at 6.50pm and there was mayhem after that. The hall was already full by now and there were many wanting to come in to see Sudharani Raghupathy and her troupe of 22 perform MAMMUDHA – FROM DUST TO LIFE. Being a free program, most of the family and friends of the performers had come that day. As a volunteer blocked the door saying there was no place, there was a near stampede as people pushed the man aside and moved in, most of them having to settle to standing along the walls to watch the show!

It was an almost plain backdrop of grey panels broken by the face of a half man-half woman – maybe symbolizing that Manmadha was not all macho but a bit effeminate too (As Sudharani described her visualization of Manmadha at the press conference earlier). It was refreshing to see a new theme being enacted. Mammudha (as he’s known in rural South India) or Manmatha, the God of Love, at the behest of Lord Indra trained his arrow on the meditating Shiva, only to bear the brunt of Shiva’s third eye which reduced him to ashes. Moved by his inconsolable wife Rathi’s tears, Shiva promised her that Manmatha would come back to life, but be visible only to her eyes! Through diligent research, the whole story was composed into a 1hr 45 minute long presentation, with production, concept, soundscape and direction by the talented KSR Aniruddha, the son of Sudharani Raghupathy.

Priya Murle as Indra was brilliant in her Therukoothu style portrayal. She was such a natural that she almost stole the show. Sasirekha Balasubramanian as the Therukoothu Kattiyakaran narrator was engaging. Aruna Subbiah as the narrator in Bharatanatyam style seemed superfluous. A talented dancer like her could have been used in a more meaningful role. Anusha Venkatramani as Nandi made an imposing figure. TM Sridevi was a pretty Rathi and the gorgeous guru Sudharani was an elegant Manmadha. Celebrating 60 years of her career in dance, this is the first time she is taking on a male role. The dummy horse dancers did a neat job. The well presented show was testimony to all the hard work put in over the months, but a couple of scenes, especially the dialogue between Manmadha and Shiva could have been edited a bit. Costumes of Manmadha, Rati, the folk dancers, narrators, Indra and Nandi by V V Ramani were striking. Lighting by theatre veteran Mithran Devenesan added sparkle to the production that has been running to full houses this season!

DEC 13

Programs at the Bhavan generally adhere to timings and (so) was 5 items on SKANDA, one of the names of Lord Muruga or Subramanya, presented by students of Chidambaram Academy of Fine Arts, conceptualized by guru Chitra Visweswaran. Though she was invited to perform herself, she could not bring herself to do so, so soon after her husband Visweswaran’s demise, so she is presenting her students during the season. She still cannot contain her tears when she announces a composition of her late husband. It was a neat and compact one hour presentation with a plain backdrop broken by peacock feathers. The dancers included Uma Namboodripad, Arupa Lahiri, Ashmita Raghavan, Supriya, Nivedha, Shalu and Jai Quehani. The supporting orchestra comprised of Sukanya and Mridul Vivek on nattuvangam, Murali Parthasarathy on vocal, Adyar K Gopinath on mridangam, R Thyagarajan on flute, G Sitarama Sharma on violin and C Munuswamy on tanpura. It was good to see the full auditorium.

DEC. 25

Starting with an invocation to Lord Venkata, the devotee finds climbing uphill difficult but is re-energized on getting a darshan of Devi. Then follows a description of what he sees at Thirumala, the different vehicles of the Lord and the audience broke into rapturous applause especially when she pulled the chariot! After entering the sanctum, the devotee describes the 16 upacharams in “Shodashakalanidhikku.” An item on athma pooja where the beautiful description is about body being the temple, head being the kalasam and so on. “Bhavayami Gopala Balam…” that is synonymous with MS Subbulakshmi, followed by an item in sringara bhava on love between Perumal and Thayar. The swing song was composed in folk tune and so was the next item “Brahmam Okate.” As we were enjoying Padma’s mind boggling array of a myriad facial expressions for the one line, the power went off resulting in total blackout. But the orchestra continued playing, Padma stood where she was, keeping beat with her ghungroos and when the power came back on in about 3 minutes, they continued the item from where they left off! Because of the T Nagar area being such a mess now, I thought that the audience turnout of about 100 or so was fairly good, but my dance critic friend disagreed with me and was most annoyed that programs were being presented to near empty halls.

DEC.28
Anita Ratnam always premiers her new production of the season at Krishna Gana Sabha and so it was too this year, with FACES on Dec 28. It shows familiar and loved persona from our cultural tapestry, but through depicting them, Anita’s idea is to convey the dominant emotion connected with that personality. “These faces were already there – have always been,” says Anita. “But they have been recognized as personalities rather than emotions. So when you look at them just as faces, they become easier to relate to, the emotion becomes personal.” It is not thematic but it is a collection of her favourite dances that she had created, but never performed. Annapoorni is the face of compassion, Durga vanquishing Mahisha is the face of rage, the forgotten face is an exercise in abhinaya to “aasai mugam marandhu pochey” sung soulfully by Sikkil Gurucharan to Anil Srnivasan’s plaintive piano notes, timeless faces from the Ramayana story uses an excerpt of the Ramayana alaap of Sikkil Gurucharan, Meera is the face of blissful surrender to OS Arun’s melodious rendition. The presentation uses lot of theatrical stage movement, and the backdrop with swinging bamboo poles is quite dramatic. Anil Srinivasan's musical arrangement uses traditional Carnatic music compositions sung as they are, not specifically tailor-made to suit set choreography or stage directions, so Anita’s choreographic inputs uses its natural flow. What is striking in the soundscape of Faces, are moments of stark silence. “The silence allows the mind to ponder, and form a coherent thought before being rushed into the next face/movement. The dance lies ultimately in the rasanabhuti of silence,” explains Anil.

he beautiful costumes have been designed by Delhi based Sandhya Raman. The idea is to bring out the classical grace of the feminine image without the heavy embellishment of traditional costumes. The costumes have been created with wraps and drapes, so the main tussar-toned basic costume is combined with green, chrome yellow or copper gold wrap, to facilitate lightning change for each item to reflect the respective emotion. The crystal-studded organza Benaras cutwork like a flowing Sufi costume for the final item is absolutely stunning. Long time collaborator Mithran Devanesen directs the lights and joining the team is dramaturg Aparna, who has worked with contemporary dance theater in Germany.

Considering that Krishna Gana Sabha is the most affected venue thanks to the messy flyover construction work in T Nagar, a fairly good number attended the program. Says Anita, “Since I danced NEELAM on Vaikunta Ekasasi day last year, Mr. Yagnaraman was so appreciative. He was so open minded and always encouraged my endeavors. I dedicate my work this year to his memory. Do you know, an organizer would not offer me a slot for ‘Faces’ since it had ‘Christian’ music?” Strange are the ways minds work!

Malavika presents 'Kasi Yatra'

At the Music Academy's dance festival, senior dancer Malavika Sarukkai will present her new thematic Bharatanatyam 'Kasi Yatra' on Jan. 9.

"'Kasi Yatra', the journey of a courtesan of Varanasi, is a story of life, its surface movements as well as its deeper currents" says Malavika.

She has chosen the story of the courtesan, a woman of taste and refinement, who is beautiful and accomplished in the arts, from the pages of kuttanimatham, an eighth century poem by Damodara Gupta.

Malavika explains "Kasi Yatra opens out her life and her inner spaces as she begins another journey and joins the flow of the river of pilgrims."

Malavika's recital is at the Music Academy on Jan. 9 at 6 pm

Sourse:Kutcheribuzz

Srekala’s show had her trademark zest.

Srekala Bharat, who is set to receive the Natya Kala Sikhamani award of The Indian Fine Arts Society in January, gave a Bharatanatyam performance under the Society’s auspices at German Hall the other day. The show was characterised by the zest that is her trademark.

It is in communicative facial expression that Srekala scores, though her brand of abhinaya is unabashedly tilted towards the lokadharmi style. True, very few classical dancers today manage to remain completely stylised in their expressional technique, perhaps because audiences demand a more accessible style that can be comprehended without prior knowledge of mudras and the finer points of the dance style. Srekala, though, brings an air to her presentation that might be described as folksy.

But what remained as a memory to savour from the performance was an abhang, “Sundaratedhyaanam,” a devotional composition in Marathi in praise of Lord Vitthala (Vishnu). It was a good idea to present this composition.

Abhangs, with their rousing music and colourful allusions to the experiences the Lord bestows on his devotees, lend themselves to dance choreography. The abhang, set to raga Yaman Kalyan, began with the depiction of the compassionate Vitthala, who was willing to wait like an ordinary visitor as His devotee fulfilled his filial duties. It was in the line describing Vitthala’s makara earrings, garland, etc., that the dancer created rasa. The charged devotional mood of the song came out well. It was a welcome moment.

In the nritta department, Srekala tends to ride roughshod over the lines, planes and angles of Bharatanatyam. Right from her starting anjali piece, through her invocation to Ganesha, “Ananda Nartana Ganapatim Bhavaye,” to her varnam in Sankarabharanam (Dandayudhapani Pillai’s “Sakhiye Inda Jaalam”), one was needled by the thought that Bharatanatyam as we recognise it today was getting a raw deal from someone bestowed with the intelligence, stamina, and quality training under Guru K.J.Sarasa — not to mention a pleasing appearance — to raise it to heights. If footwork can be heard sharply, it is not matched by firm postures. If the mudras are cleanly held, the arms are consistently loose. In executing footwork that requires the araimandi posture, there is not enough tightness of the pelvic muscles to keep the body from bobbing up and down.

While Srekala has good choreographic and musical ideas, the lapses detract distressingly from a performance labelled Bharatanatyam.

The orchestra was an asset to the evening. S. Srilatha, who provided nattuvangam, came alive during the varnam, when her resounding jati recitation floored the audience. Accuracy of syllables, confidence and power marked her presentation. K.R.Venkatasubramanian on the mridangam provided good support, though the volume was often too high. Vocalist Vidya Srinivasan’s singing was a pleasure. Her ragam and niraval singing are pleasing, but she can brush up her pronunciation of languages like Sanskrit. Violin by V. Muruganandam was apt.

Review by Anjana Ranjan in the Hindu

Vaishnava Bharathi- a dance pilgrimage by Urmila Satyanarayanan

Urmila Satyanarayanan’s solo thematic work, ‘Vaishnava Bharathi,’ was a compilation of devotional hymns from across the country tracing the path of the Vaishnav insignia and the map of the Indian peninsula simultaneously.

The journey started from Bengal with Chaitanya Mahaprabhu’s Hari naamsankirtan, to Puri Jagannath with Jayadeva, to Tirupathi with Annamacharya, to Srirangam as visualised by Andal, to Kerala with Irayaman Thampi, to Udipi with Purandaradasa and to Maharashtra with an abhang.

The production had a few additions: a Meera bhajan (‘Paga Ghungharoo Re’), a Dhanashree tillana (Swati Tirunal, Adi talam) and ‘Vaishnava Jana To’ (Narasimha Mehta).

There were about ten compositions in this exhaustive list. It was a musically rich production and Swamimalai K.Suresh did a good job with his sincere rendition. The problem was with its visualisation. This is a challenge at the best of times, and more so in a situation where the scope is limited to one predominant rasa, in bhakti.

‘Vaishnava Bharati’ opened on a slow and meditative note with Annamacharya’s kriti, ‘Sriman Narayana’ (Bowli, Adi).

As the curtains went up on the darkened stage, the modified Vaishnav insignia with a white ‘v’ (Thirumann) and the red line (Sri Choornam) in the middle, created with clever lighting by Murugan, was visible in the background. It made a dramatic statement and remained visible through the evening, serving as a constant reminder of the theme.

The ‘dance pilgrimage’ as Urmila called it, was dedicated to the memory of noted music and dance scholar, T.S.Parthasarathy. The soundscape was the most significant part of the production.

The choice of melodious and evocative songs was one aspect; the other was the layering of the track with Vedic chants like the Purusha Suktham and the Sanskrit prayer, the Venkateswara Suprabhatam, among others. These familiar add-ons gave a sense of immediacy to the devotional hymns bringing them closer to the rasika.

One of the most beautifully rendered was Andal’s sixth Tirumozhi, ‘Varanamayiram’ (ragamalika, Adi) describing her dream of the wedding ceremony. Another gem was ‘Enthamathramuna’ (ragamalika, misra chapu, Annamacharya).

Suresh was backed by a skilful set of musicians: Sigamani (violin), T.Sashidhar (flute) and Nellai D.Kannan (mridangam).

While the music was pleasant, the dance choreography lagged behind. The opening ‘Pralaya Payodhi Jale’ (ragamalika, Adi, Jayadeva), the Dasavatara poem from the Gita Govinda, for example, was exhaustive but time was not a luxury. Urmila could afford with such a long line up. Some others like ‘Karuna Chaivan’ (Yadukulakhambodi, misra chapu, Irayaman Thampi) would have benefited with more involvement. The production requires better planning from a collective standpoint, as literal interpretations of individual pieces lead to a sense of sameness.

There were some well-visualised ones as well, such as ‘Mella Mellane Bandene’ (Mohanam, Adi, Purandaradasa) and the abhang (‘Jeevaprane’). The production needs more of them to take off.

Source: Review of the Program in Kartik Fine arts by Rupa Srikanth in the Hindu

Hamsadhwani's NRI Dance Festival in Madras

Hamsadhwani’s 13th NRI Music and Dance Festival is rightly dedicated to the memory of R. Ramachandran, the sprightly and cheerful gentleman, the first to think of providing a platform for NRI musicians and dancers.

At the inaugural, veteran dancers Shantha and V.P.Dhananjayan along with their senior student Divya Sivasundar, presented a thematic natya recital titled “Bhakthi Prabhavam.” Simple devotional themes were portrayed simply and sincerely at a simple pace; without any frills or fireworks.

Even the nritta-based “Shakthi Prabhavam, an ode to Mother Nature in her three forms (Parasakthi, Saraswathi and Lakshmi) from Bhaaratiar’s Navaratri Kritis in ragamalika, Aadi talam, was kept simple. The entry had a stunning sequence of sollus based on Panchabhutham, a prelude to the composition. The song itself was slow and serene and was rendered (Sasidharan) in a like manner. Divya’s portrayals reflected this equanimity. While the theermanams were graceful and precise, the araimandi posture was glaring in its absence. The stand-out pieces however, were the two solos — Dhananjayan as Hanuman in “Ananda Raama soundaryam” from Arunachala Kaviraayar’s Ramanatakam (Kedaragowla,Aadi) and Shantha in ‘Karpagavalli nin porpadangal pidithen’ in raagamaalika (Aadi), a composition of Yaazhpaanam Veeramani Iyer from Kalakshetra. With awe and reverence, Hanuman describes every limb of Raama and Dhananjayan’s eyes were full of wonder at the thought of that magnificent sight… Every facial muscle reflected this wonder and one could see the Kathakali training in every expression. Little things like the way he held the ‘adbhutha’ expression until all lights were switched off also added to its veracity. Unexpected and delightful was Shantha’s poignant rendering of the kriti.

There was a quiet dignity in Shantha’s depiction of the ‘Karpagambal’ episode in which Siva turns Parvathi into a peacock. The devotee’s pleas for compassion take on added depth when performed with selflessness and humility. The dancing couple concluded with a well-enacted but light-hearted Radha-Krishna duet in ‘Dhikku teriyaada kaattil’ in raagamaalika, (Aadi), a composition of Bharatiar, tuned and popularised by GNB.

The orchestra comprising R. Karthikeyan (mridangam), S. Sunilkumar (flute), R.Eswar (violin) and Lakshminarayan (tambura) did a fine job of keeping the melody on an even keel.

Source: The Hindu

Madras and Mudras

Here is an article by Anita R Ratnam which I hope you will enjoy as much as I did:-

"As a teenager, I would stagger out of bed bleary-eyed and face another day of school and dance classes with Rajee Narayan. My Arangetram in 1964 was at the Abbotsbury marriage hall (now the site of an abandoned hotel complex). The occasion was my uncle’s wedding reception.

The performance was two hours long and I was eight years old. Just five days earlier I had slipped down the stairs and hurt my back and could not bend like Kumari Kamala (an inspiration for an entire generation to learn Bharatanatyam) in the snake dance! I was crushed but tried to make it up with my Ava Gardener smile. After five costume changes applause, my father rushed backstage and scolded my guru for making me sweat so much!

I remember tailor Aiyyelu coming to our present home on Cenotaph Road to take measurements. My sister Pritha and I danced together whenever she decided she could divert her mind from her first rank in class exams. My mother Leela was an innovator in colours and costume design and created several outfits that Aiyyelu understood with his quicksilver mind.

Performances were always exciting. An assortment of celebrities sat in the front row . My mother or one of my gurus, Adyar K Lakshman and Madurai N Krishnan, would pop in informing me about the various VIPs who arrived but all I wanted to know was ‘‘Has Subbudu come? Has NMN come?’’ The two dreaded dance critics of Indian Express and The Hindu.

December 1971. The greats MS and Bala in the audience and me backstage. The occasion. The opening session of the annual Music Academy Conference and a dancer appearing after several years to open the session. Years later. The morning prayer under the banyan tree at Kalakshetra with Atthai (Rukmini Arundale) and Sankara Menon attending. Dreaded 'araimandi’ sessions with Sarada Hoffman and lovely dance classes with Neila Sathyalingam and Jayalakshmi teacher. A stern Atthai summoning me and asking me to take part in one of the famed Ramayana dance dramas as Kausalya — mother to Janardhan sir’s famous Sri Rama. Heart fluttering each time I had to repeat a movement and Sarada teacher barking “innum ukkaaranum ( you have to sit lower)” until my long legs could hardly make it out of the class sessions.

Dance means Madras. Sweat. Heat. Sound of wood on wood. Tamil, English and Malayalam melting in the sweltering heat. Paint, lights, applause or walk outs. Reviews and gossip sessions with Sruti magazine’s Janaki. Mylapore, North Mada Street, checking out new costume jewellery at Sukra.

Today. New costumes planned for a new production on the Lotus. The land phone and the mobile ring simultaneously. My kids yell their annual mantra, “Amma! Please leave your dance for one December and come with us on a holiday.” My mother looks at my wall filled with awards and honours and calmly declares, “All okay, but when are you getting your Padma Shri?” "

Source: New Indian Express (Click for more)