Unlike Srjan’s customary high-profile publicity, it was a less lavishly decorated lobby at the Rabindra Mandap Bhubaneswar for the 20th Kelucharan Mohapatra Award Festival — though some performances were very impressive. Vaibhav Arekar’s Bharatanatyam solo, one of its kind, synthesised excellent grasp over technique with incredibly fertile creative imagination, stemming from Vaibhav’s simultaneous journeys in theatre and classical dance. A unique prologue for the Ardhanariswar composition based on Muttuswamy Dikshitar’s lyric in Kumudakriya, was that of Shiva lovingly reminding a petulant Parvati threatening to walk out with the two kids, that as his left half, she is an inseparable part of Him. The tandav/lasya complementing contrasts in the dancer’s frozen stances frontal and back facing, and nritta moments made for chiselled aesthetics, eloquent stillness competing with throbbing silence of movements. Vaibhav’s dance communication has lustre without exaggeration. Invaluable assets were Kaleeswaran Pillai’s excellent nattuvangam with the vocal support of Shivaprasad — with sensitive accompaniment on Dakshinamurty’s mridangam and Satyavishal’s violin.
The high point of the recital was the Hasya Ras based on “Subhashita Ratnakosham”, Guru Kanak Rele’s choreography, woven round two episodes. One was the sibling rivalry between Kartikeya and Ganesh, one attracting ridicule for his numerous heads and eyes and the other for his unwieldy nose (trunk) — music evocatively set in Mohanam. Delightfully mimed, even more unique was the episode set to raga Reetigowla, wherein the meditating Digambara Shiva, surprised with a visit from Visnu, is compelled to cover his nakedness with a hasty wraparound of the tiger skin, held in place with the snake adorning his neck as rope. The quick camouflage suffices till the snake, terrified by Vishnu’s vahana the Garuda, slithers away, leaving Shiva with no covering! The choreographic minimalism, the interpretative subtlety and the wing support, fetched deservedly lusty applause. Delectably funny touches like Shiva hastily slapping down the curiously raised hood of the snake added to the impact.
Ragam and taanam in Todi, sans sahitya, provided backdrop for the natya episode visualising the frustrations leading to miraculous joy, as the ‘low-born’ devotee Nandanar feasts his eyes on the dancing Shiva inside the Tiruvarur temple sanctum — a
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Ratikant’s generous gesture in featuring a Debaprasad disciple in a homage to Kelucharan Mohapatra, saw Ramli Ibrahim rendering “Harihara”. Ecstatically meditative in the frozen postures, Gajendra Panda’s choreography based on Laxmikant Palit’s musical score, revelled in postures rather than narrative. Right through Guru Debaprasad’s ashtapadi visualisation of “Priye Charusheele” based on Balkrushna Das’s score, Ramli’s seated figure was partially hidden from the rear audience. The earthy strength of Debaprasad’s Odissi, with the sabdaswara patha recitations and simple music with an incantatory feel, were palpable in “Ashta Shambhu” with Gajendra’s Panda’s manjira, Samarendra Kundu’s singing, Abhiram Nanda’s flute melody and Dhaneswar Swain’s mardal aiding the dancer’s felt presentation.
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Kaishiki’s Odissi presentation of “The saggy baggy elephant” signified an encouraging trend of artists of different institutions pooling their energies. Ratikant, approached to provide rhythmic interludes, became full choreographer for Kaishiki youngsters, trained under Mumbai’s Daksha Mashruwala. Much like the Panchatantra, the very simple animal story of a young elephant who finds himself after a period of lowered self esteem, based on a story written in 1947 by Kathryn and Byron Jackson, was translated into Odissi with frontiers extended to include original movements. Ideal fare for school kids! Hope Spic Macay is listening! Agnimitra’s music in ragas like Hamsadhwani, Keerawani, Bhopali, etc., along with Amruta Sah’s drawings as backdrop, with an enthusiastic batch of dancers performing, jumping, and crawling made for spirited entertainment! Earlier was Daksha’s solo homage to ‘Jagatjanani’ Saraswati, Lakshmi and Kali followed by the ashtapadi “Yahi Madhava”.
Essay in aestheticsFrom razor sharp clarity in nritta to invocation based on the Rajasthani lyric “Mharo pranam Banke Biharijiki” which vocalist Kishori Amonkar made so famous, from presence in elegantly tailored mellow coloured costumes to sheer tonal musicality of rhythmic improvisations, Prashant Shah’s Kathak recital was an essay in aesthetics, where quality and not quantity characterised the presentation. The straight-backed stance, erect legs close together even rendering footwork in drut laya, (in most dancers, the feet move apart in an ugly posture), the sheer grace of a sliding foot, in executing a meend or elongated bols, and in dealing with unarticulated intervals in a bandish displayed the finish of the Kumudini Lakhia training. Prashant concluded with an underplayed interpretation of the Asit Desai ghazal in Keerawani, “Hamaradil savereka sunehra jaam ho jaye, Chiragon ki tarah ankhe jale jab shaam ho jaye.”
From the hostsHosts Srjan, taking the stage on the concluding day, began with “Synthesis”, a homage woven round verses of the Shraddha Sukta from the Rig Veda, set to contemporary music arrangement by Tarakant Panda, with interlinking music by Satyavrita. The vocal support was by Annadaprasanna Patnaik. Ratikant’s dance visualisation included movements like the leg raised sideways at shoulder level (resembling the Bharatanatyam veeshara adavu) outside the orthodox parameters of Odissi technique. The group dance coordination, timing and spacing were immaculate.
Fully abstract in dance and poetry personifying qualities like confidence, faith, care and commitment, perhaps a suggestion of the theme in the choreography was needed.
The second dance drama style of presentation “Kubja”, was based entirely on the Srimad Bhagavatam, with lyrics by scholar Nityananda Misra.
With excellently trained dancers, the Kubja episode as dealt with, of an unwaveringly pleasant monochromatic level, was sans conflict with high/low contrasts.
In charge of anointing Kamsa’s body with sandal paste and herbs, the proud, confident though hunchbacked Kubja attracts the ever roving eye of Krishna whose attentions she initially ignores. Later a touch of Krishna’s hand straightens her mal-formed body. Kubja and Krishna are finally seen in the ecstasy of love (‘Bhasila nirmala kanthare”).
The flagrant sringar with Rajashree as Krishna and Manusmita as Kubja, silhouetted against an ornate background with bright light spots on them, could preferably be in shadow with silhouettes seen, with the simultaneity of dancers rejoicing in front well lit. Loud lighting could be avoided.
Laxmikant Palit’s score with singers Roopak Kumar Panda, Kshiti Prakash and Ira Mohanty with traditional instruments had a pleasantly light classical feel.
Ratikant’s conviction for trying out innovation, despite unavoidable criticism, is commendable.
The musical componentThe musical component was outstanding. What young flautist Shashank Subramaniam coaxed out of his instrument, right from the curtain-raiser of the Tyagaraja kriti “Manasuloni” in raga Varamu, aided by by Sai Giridhar’s bhava-soaked mridangam accompaniment and Ganesh Prasad on violin, created magic.
Grace-adorned lavanya in every phrase of the ragam-taanam-pallavi in Kalyani, (both 16 beats and 8 beats) which in the musical improvisation was uniquely original, avoiding any feel of déjà vu. The pallavi ragamalika sweep with a brief but brilliant ‘tani’ on the mridagam had the audience in raptures with Swati Tirunal’s “Vishweshwara” (Sindhu Bhairavi) and Chandrasekhara’s “Venkatachala nilayam” concluding the exquisitely aesthetic fare.
Anandam Sivamani, the one man band, created rhythmic/tonal wonder. Resembling the ‘Curiosity Shop’, the assortment on stage of jaltarang, kanjira, tabla, xylophone, synthesiser, bell metal pans, ankle bells, gongs, bongo, wiral cymbals, high hat cymbal, VIP suitcase, plates and what have you, saw magic fingers tap each to produce a forest of tonal variety, with the genius lying in harmonious blending. Holding the stage for over an hour, the sheer stamina of the exercise left one aghast.
In Hindustani classical, Sitarist Neeladhri’s soulful Jhinjhoti alap and violinist Deepak Pandit’s madhyalaya Charukesi in Ek tala apart, it was all technical brilliance and by the violinist, a host of fleeting ragas.
The jod-jhala in Jhinjhoti with Neeladhri’s flying fingers kept pace by Satyajit Talwalkar’s tabla was memorable.