For over 75 minutes, Andal took centre stage in Lakshmi Parthasarathy Athreya’s solo dance theatre production, ‘Kodhai Alwar.’ A Tamil saint-poetess, she is believed to have lived in the seventh or eight century in Srivilliputhur. Having learnt the glories of Vishnu from her father Periyazhwar, she was consumed with love for Krishna early on. Born Kodhai, she came to be known as Andal after Vishnu appeared in Periyazhwar’s dream and indicated his preference for the flower garlands worn by her, as she pretended to be his bride. As per her wish, she merged with Ranganatha in Srirangam as a bride.
‘Kodhai Alwar’ was a colourful canvas of beautiful music (S. Rajeswari) and ‘original’ lyrics of Andal (Tiruppavai, Nachiyar Tirumozhi) and Periyazhwar (Thirupallaandu). Lakshmi’s conceptualisation stayed clear of the biographical details as to her birth, etc., but captured Andal’s single-minded devotion and its growing intensity over time. The essence of her emotions was conveyed with sophistication.
Lakshmi is a disciple of veteran Bharatanatyam artiste Chitra Visweswaran, and has over the years developed a unique style. It is a delightful combination of the grace and light-footedness of her guru’s and the geometry of a precise natyarambam, sharp mudras and crisp execution. Her vocabulary seems to suit her supple body, as in her long slender arms and graceful wrists.
Her style of abhinaya is more angika-less on the face and more as a whole-body expression. Big movements can seem less intense, but the dancer’s mukhaja abhinaya was powerful during the deepest moments, proving her maturity. One of the highlights was Andal’s entry piece after the arresting invocatory Vishnu Kavuthuvam (Gambhiranattai, chatusra eka, Gangamuthu nattuvanar, choreographed by Guru Chitra) and the vibrant introductory ‘Pattabhiran Thirumagalar’ (Kadanakuthuhalam, Adi), a Malavika-inspired piece.
A young girl Andal, distinguished with the left-side hair bun, wears the newly made flower garland meant for Lord Vatapatrasayee, and sees Krishna with her in the reflection in the well. Before she asks him to promise to be with her, he is gone. She goes to the temple and as a temple-style recording of ‘Pallandu Pallandu’ pasuram (rendered by Deivanayakam Swamy, digitised by Vedanth Bharadwaj) is played, she sees the deity. She stares mesmerised, recognising her bangle around his wrist in uninhibited delight.
This piece was a combination of the saints’ devotional lyrics (‘Pallandu’ and ‘Andru Ivvulagam’), beautiful music and nritta passages (Jatiswaram, Malayamarutham, Adi), prayer to God of love, Kama (‘Thai oru thingalum’), plea to the clouds to carry her message of love (‘Vaan kondu kilarndu ezhundu,’Amritavarshini) set in a rhythmic khanda chapu, and the plea to the cuckoo (‘Painkilli vannan,’ Adi) in the melodious Tilang. The transition was seamless.
Krishna’s leelas lead to Andal’s dream of the wedding rituals (‘Varanamayiram’) embedded within an evocative ragamalika and Andal’s longing in the soulful Khamas ‘Karpooram naarumo’ pasuram when she addresses the conch asking him whether the fragrance of Krishna’s mouth is like camphor or the blossomed lotus flower. The music captured the mood beautifully, thanks to Murali Parthasarathy (vocal), Srilakshmi Venkataramani (violin) and Thyagarajan (flute).
Andal sinks into viraha seeing Krishna everywhere and the sounds of the cuckoo and others bother her physically. Ahiri and Subha Pantuvarali ragas were most apt as the sadness increased.
Krishna finally appears before Andal — that moment was unfortunately not captured dramatically enough. But Andal’s happiness was infectious (‘Thiruaadi Poorathu Jagathu Udital Vaazhiye, Saranga, Surutti, Khanda Chapu).
During the joyful nritta with the garland and throughout, the percussionists anchored Lakshmi unobtrusively — Neela Sukhanya (nattuvangam) and Shivaprasad (mridangam). Other credits: Vijay Madhavan (jathis), Anand Kumar and Preethi Athreya (lights). The resource persons were Velukkudi Krishnan and Jayalakshmi Parthasarathy.
