With clearly-marked body kinetics, split-second alteration in postures and imaginative use of spatial geometry, danseuse Rashmi Uppal described Shiva as the quintessential destroyer. UK Banerjee reports
India’s classical dance of Kathak has an umbilical cord connecting it with ancient story-telling tradition. Having originated from the kathakar (storyteller) legacy, most Kathak dancers revel in frequently interrupting proscenium performance and interject narratives on what they call “technical Kathak”, demonstrating their dance-elements. Coming from someone like Pt Birju Maharaj, such narrations are usually enveloped with personal stories: impeccably told but, for fledgling dancers, naïve demonstrations end in audience ennui. The great sitar maestro Ravi Shankar commented once, “The spectators are not students in a classroom and a lecture-demonstration mode is hardly appropriate for the performative occasion.”
Ekam, Kathak solo recently presented by Jaipur-based Rashmi Uppal, fortunately avoided such diversions. Barring a few well-recited padhants (mnemonics), she concentrated on her themes that were Shiva, sambhoga sringara (love in consummation) and vipralabdha sringara (love in separated suffering).
Rashmi began with a hymn dedicated to one and absolute Shiva. With clearly-marked body kinetics, split-second alteration in postures and imaginative use of spatial geometry (especially arcs and diagonals), she created her divinity — infinite, ineffable and unassailable. She eloquently explained later, “To me, Shiva is the quintessential destroyer, the universal teacher who wipes out my illusions and ignorance. He eradicates my old memories so that I can move on with the movement of time. He destroys my attachments that stand between God and me. At the end, He releases me from the bondage of endless re-births.” In a cosmopolitan land of ours, its music composition was by Sami Ulla Khan who also accompanied her vocally.
The second item onsambhoga was a memorable composition of Kishori Amonkar in the beautiful Carnatic raga Hamsadhwani: Aaj Sajan Sang Milan Bemilva… Rashmi traipsed with the rapturous melody that rose to a rare high with the near-spiritual lyric: Today is the day; today is the meeting. Is it the union with the beloved or perhaps, together, my beloved and I could create an esoteric bonding that would complete and complement our livesIJ
The finale — and tour de force of the evening — was the lovers’ perennial grief the world over, vipralabdha, with an original composition by the young Kaushiki Chakravorty in raga Madhuvanti: Shaam Bhaii, Ghanashyam Na Aaye…The concept and choreography was by Aditi Mangaldas whose Drishtikon Dance Foundation has been Rashmi’s gurukul (parent body) which, incidentally, always held the bastion against lec-dem format in Kathak. In her presentation, Rashmi’s was a study in despair and desolation — an image of agony and anxiety — and, in more ways than one, she mirrored Abanindranath Tagore’s classic portrait Tishyarakshita: the eternal woman-in-waiting. As she articulated her quest, “Is it Radha waiting for Krishna or Meera seeking the unknownIJ”
Rashmi explained, “Today’s learners are quizzical and not prepared to adopt anything which is sub-standard. Before taking up a classical idiom like Kathak, they even question how it compares in its entertainment value against jazz and salsa. There’s a need, I dare say, for positive marketing: on what classical dances provide and what values do they carry.”
photos Deepak Mudgal
