When senior Bharatanatyam dancer and abhinaya-expert Bragha Bessell opened her two-hour programme for Natyarangam with ‘Mooshika Vahana,’ a short prayer to Ganesa, one noticed how her involvement turned a prayer into an abhinaya piece. Unusual certainly, but not unexpected. What followed was unexpected — Bragha’s sprightly nritta, untiring energy, vivacity, clear-as-crystal footwork and perfect execution of steps.
Bragha was presenting ‘Poorna Margam’ — the traditional repertoire espoused by the Thanjavur Quartette in the 1800s, when they codified the learning system and the presentation repertoire. Prior to this codification, Sadir dancers were mainly performing darus, songs from natakas, and padas.
The four brothers were supposedly influenced by Maharaja Serfoji II’s Nirupanas — a set of 18 songs including varnam and thillana, following the same theme and set to the same raga and tala, to be performed by one or more dancers. The codified repertoire, called the ‘Margam,’ that stands even today, although as a truncated, time-bound version, comprises Alarippu, Jatiswaram, Sabdam, Varnam, Padam, Javali and Thillana.
‘Poorna Margam’ is one of Natyarangam’s initiatives to promote the cause of Bharatanatyam. The forum invites senior dancers to present ‘Poorna Margam,’ in order to encourage the revival of old compositions that are rarely seen today. As a corollary it pushes the dancers to build stamina to last two hours in this day and age of high-energy performances.
Bragha’s performance was a treat of artistic skill, where music and dance came together gloriously. Kudos to the dancer, the choreographer, guru Adyar K. Lakshman and to the musicians — K. Hariprasad (vocal), Shiva Prasad (mridangam), Muthukumar (flute), S. Anjani (veena) and Sudarshini (nattuvangam).
The jatiswaram (Saraswati, Rupaka, Kanchipuram Ellappa nattuvanar, visualised by Adyar Lakshman) was a beautiful musical piece, but the visualisation made it poetic as the delivery of the notes and the adavus worked in perfect unison. So too in the varnam, ‘Ati mogam konden’ (Sankarabaranam, Adi, written by Ponniah Pillai of the Thanjavur Quartet and adapted into Tamil, jatis by Guru Lakshman). I would think the mukthayi swara segment with the perfectly executed muzhu mandis and fast-paced nritta was the highpoint of the evening.
Bragha’s little sancharis were well-thought out and sensitive. She tells the sakhi, “Will you bring my lord without anyone knowing…” and gesticulates to her to remove her glittering ornaments so that she does not draw attention to herself and to remove the flowers from her hair, so that the perfume is not distracting.
Abhinaya across all pieces was delectable — from the depth of sorrow as an inconsolable woman, who has been abandoned by a previously doting paramour (‘Ayaiyo vegataayenaa,’ Nadanamakriya, Triputa, Kshetrayya) to the in-your-face aggression while confronting Subramanya as to how his current love-interest was superior to her (‘Ennilum aval enna slaakiyamo,’ Begada, misra chapu, Subbarama Iyer), to the javali (‘Sarasamu ladetenduku’, Kapi, Adi, Poochi Srinivasa Iyengar) portraying a young married woman, who dallies with Srikantha (Padmanabha).
The last was simply the most masterful. The woman protests when he creeps in on her as she bids her husband adieu; the woman’s brave attempt to keep the broad smile for her husband while dealing with her love-interest, was a memorable moment. The nayika gradually changes in front of you, first protesting, then flattered and telling him to come back when he cannot see even a stone on the path, and finally, happily succumbing to his attention, walking away bashfully with him, hand-in-hand.
Guru Kalanidhi Narayanan would have been happy with the sensitivity of the musicians, and that is the highest compliment one can give them.
