Cleverly devised, fine performance

ABOVE ALL a tale of human foibles and resolve, the Mahabharata in every retelling, only reaffirms how relevantly its situations apply to Universal Man irrespective of race, creed or nationality. Dance drama presentations based on this great epic, in the archetypal court style which cannot be avoided, have to discover ways of imparting freshness to an oft told story. While Peter Brooke could indulge in a marathon eight-hour theatre to unfold the saga of the Mahabharata the average dance drama production, rather in the manner of containing the sea in a bottle, cannot have a presentation span of more than two or two and a half hours. V. P. Dhananjayan's ``Mahabhaaratam'' in concept, choreography, dance, and music, confines itself to the essentials of the Kaurava-Pandava antagonism, avoiding the spin- off into ancillary episodes which the epic abounds in. Thus even an important character like Karna does not make an entrance into the narrative right till the end when in the battle against Arjuna, charioteer Krishna urges the killing of the hapless warrior whose chariot wheels are stuck in the mud. It is in paring away all that is not significant to core action that the approach shows a certain maturity.

Very simple and straight forward in the narrative, it is essentially the debasement of the human spirit that one encounters often. There is the example of a cruel guru Drona and the dakshina he extracted from Ekalavya. There is the case of a proud princess Duraupadi laughing at the discomfiture of Duryodhana and his brother at the undignified tumble in the palace of the Pandavas. One is also treated to jealousy becoming the primary urge in life, governing all action as in the case of Duryodhana. One sees the weakness of Dharmaraja who cannot avoid the temptation of indulging in a game of dice, even when his losses threaten his very existence as King. And there is reprisal which comes in the form of a frenzied Bhima slaking his thirst for revenge by drinking the blood of the clawed out entrails of Dussasana. Against all this high pitched backdrop, there is the reassuring matter of fact manner of Krishna, who acts as a foil to all the possessed behaviour of men. It is this contrast that the production highlights very potently.

In a very uncomplicated narrative, the main virtue rests on a team of excellently trained dancers whose movements at no point show looseness in the dancing. Taut and to the point, group scene are visually neat. The Yuddha Parvam scene for instance ushers in the requisite battle feel in a simple march-like step of soldiers. Clearly spelt out in intent and rendition, the choreography has no flab or any form of over-padding. In the dice scene and the humiliation of Draupadi, contained histrionics never descended to the level of melodrama. There were some scenes which were cleverly devised as the one visualising Draupadi on the balcony of the Palace at Hastinapura looking down at the Kaurava brothers having a toss. A screen held on two sides behind which Draupadi stood with only her face and torso visible sufficed to create the effect.

When violence becomes the central motif, the dance drama has inevitably to fall back upon the virile theatrical impulses of Kathakali. Trained in that idiom, V. P. Dhananjayan makes a convincing Bhima.

Without a strongly etched figure in the role of Krishna, action would have fallen flat and it is here that Narendra proves to be an excellent choice. A proficient and mature dancer, he registers a vital presence in the production. His attitude of kindly condescension, compassion, humour in the most inimical situations (as he with gentle laughter indicates to Duryodhana that the latter did not even ask him to sit down), mild scorn and all knowing attitude show the inflamed behaviour of the other characters to greater effect. With Rajeshkumar as a persuasive Arjun, the Gitopadesh scene came off well. S. Suresh as Duryodhana and K. T. Pradeesh as Dussasana acquitted themselves well. Very suited to the role of Sakuni was K. P. Karvarnan. In the sensitive role of Draupadi, M. B. Vijayalakshmi turns in a fine performance. Not to be forgotten are the corps de ballet of capable dancers providing the group dance substance round which the story is allowed to unfold.

Costumes designed by Shanta Dhananjayan were tasteful. The libretto and lyrics in Tamil (with the exception of the Sanskrit verses of the Gita) and score by Kumbakonam A. Gajendran (with an additional singer in Sashidharan) laid the melodic base, simple but lively. Ramesh Babu (mridangam), Kalaiarasan (violin), Sunilkumar (flute), Unni Krishnan (morsing and maddalam) made up the rest of the neatly rehearsed musical team with Shanta Dhananjayan in her unobtrusive fashion doing the conducting. V. P. Ramachandran's light designing added to the total effect of the dance drama. Unstinting effort in planning out each part of the production is what ultimately created the results. Rich but not offensively garish is the production.

While producing a work which is bound to appeal to all levels in the audience, it has been kept in mind that aesthetic quality should not be determined by the lowest common denominator.

Overblown theatricals

If one admired the controlled aesthetics of Mahabharatam, it is the total lack of this element that one despaired of in ``Panchaliyin Shabatham,'' an ekaharya narrative production created by Urmila Satyanarayanan, and presented at the Sri Krishna Gana Sabha. What the dancer was attempting was obviously dance theatre. But even here, while treading a thin line, the performer cannot fall into the trap of exaggerated theatre.

Urmila is a dancer known for the chiselled perfection of her Bharatnatyam technique, and grip over both nritta and abhinaya. In the latter department, with recent induction of training under Kalanidhi Narayanan, her expressional ability has developed new signals. This being so, the overdone drama of ``Panchaliyin Shabatham'' is understandable. The battings of the eye and the glances, the sudden lurchings, the overdone mannerism like the fingers fluttering over the chin, the mouth trembling, the exaggerated swagger - the list would be endless. Pity for Urmila with her elegantly outlined araimandi and the immaculate movement profile is always a pleasure to watch.

The production acquires a special status in that the music for this has been composed by that irrepressible musicologist and musician Lalgudi G. Jayaraman. In keeping a slender musical team without too many instrumental flourishes, Urmila did the best possible thing. In S. K. Suresh, she had a vocalist who was tuneful, word clear and fully supportive. Whether in ushering in a strident note in the Atana, or heralding one in Revati, a sorrowful Kanada or a Shahana (here used as an expression of relief as Draupadi is saved from humiliation), or an angry Mohanam, Suresh never lost control. Dhananjayan provided competent mridangam support and with Sivaganesh on the violin and Sashidharan on the flute, the compact team of musicians was well manned.

As for the famous composer's music, this critic has only one point to make. Unlike Lalgudi's varnam in Charukesi or any of his thrilling tillana compositions, which keep resonating in the mind, the music for this production, designed for the moment, leaves no recallable melodic impressions. Also the creative impulses in metre and gait, favour a more theatrical presentation. Urmila strung to a pre set base, errs on the side of the over blown gesture. The general public may well love and applaud this venture. But what is bound to please at the popular level, may not always be an aesthetic triumph. One understands that a one woman effort like this cannot completely avoid a measure of drama. But it has to be kept at the minimal level to retain the balance between dance and theatre.

Exquisite performance

For the very few who attended the performance on the first evening of the New Year, it was a heart-warming experience watching Manjari Chandrasekhar perform. Always known for the flawless technique and geometry of movement, Manjari now reveals a newly inspired fire in abhinaya. The Swarajati, a Tanjore Quartet composition in Yadukula Kambodi, `Sarojaksha' had its demanding proportions of mime and rhythm fully met in Manjari's rendition. There was a new urgency in the nayika's plea to the sakhi that her Lord Brigadeeswara be fetched. The jathis in normal and double quick tempo were done with equal ease and Manjari's perfectly measured placing of feet and stances in an araimandi, a toe heel jumping step or in a tattumettu showed how central to the aesthetics of Bharatanatyam the right technique is.

If the khandita depiction in the padam in Kapi had bite, the Kshetrayya padam `Eela vaccitive' in Navroj had the slightly disparaging tone of rebuke in the sakhi's address to the nayika for forsaking the man who still pines for her. But by far the most moving item in the post swarajati section was the Behag composition `Idutano tillai sthalam,' the dancer's bhakti and ability to lose herself in the mood of the moment attaining new heights and throb.

The tillana in Abhogi impressed as much in the dance composing by Prof. Chandrasekhar as in the presentation by Manjari, the complicated arithmetic of the tala taken in stride. And how closely the profile and statuesque qualities of the Bharatanatyam style were preserved in the dance vision was a pleasure to see. Singer Sarayu Srinivasan's style of rendition was a plus point for the dancer, though her lung power was somewhat low and the music sounded too soft. Prof. Chandrasekhar led the wing support with his nattuvangam and both Gopinath on the mridangam and T. K. Padmanabhan on the violin provided the right support.

From the wellsprings of serenity

Flouting all ambivalence in the dance world often tortured by the choices thrown up by the constant interplay of the old and the new, Meenakshi Chittaranjan, the Nritya Choodamani awardee for this year, has ever clung to the puristic resonance of Pandanallur Bharatanatyam in her art. Uncluttered in its simplicity, and shorn of all gaudy embellishment, her dance does not seek to dazzle. Its promptings on the other hand, spring from a deep seated serenity. The guru stuti and homage to Rajarajeswari in Ramapriya, made for a very reposeful start. The Devi, even in her more powerful attitudes as the destroyer of evil, was enveloped in a reverential calm in the dance visualisation.

The Ashtamalika Varnam, a rare Tanjore Quartet composition set to a garland of eight ragas (the name of each forming part of the sahitya of the pertinent line) is a dootika item - the sakhi addressing her plaint on behalf of the pining Moon-faced nayika to Sankara. Siva here is visualised as the one adorned with snakes. The usual theme with time honoured metaphors to describe the loved one in her plight, is musically structured differently. After each statement in Shankarabharanam, Kambodi, Neelambari, Bhairavi, Todi, Suruti and Ahiri in that order, there is a chittaswaram or solpha syllabic punctuation. Each interpretative part is preluded by a teermanam. The nritta passages in all the rhythmic combinations, were precise and very neat - the organic development of each teermanam giving it a rhythmic punch despite there being no aim at evoking applause through mathemical gymnastics. In the interpretative parts, Meenakshi danced with dignity and clarity.

The same well directed abhinaya governed the presentation of the padam in Atana `Arivenayya.' The heroine in this rebukes her erring lover for all his tall promises, about being as inseparable from her as water from milk and the lotus from the Sun, but he now bestowed all that was best and loving on the other woman while his undesirable quarrel seeking and calculating side was reserved for the nayika.

The mother rebuking the daughter Parvati for her propensity for picking up quarrels with the husband from whom she had run away, in the oft done lyric, ``Ettanai Sonnalum'' in Saveri, while done with same abhinaya control was a little tame in impact. The best suited to the tranquil nature of Meenakshi's dance was the Purandaradas composition in Kapi ``Jagadodharana.'' Here Yashoda as the foster mother making the child God himself play, was brought out with all the inner glow of vatsalya.

Balamuralikrishna's tillana in Kalyani, was translated into the dance idiom with its mnemonic and rhythmic vitality intact. Shaktivel's mridangam proved vital in wing support along with the nattuvangam by Pandanallur Pandyan. Kuttralam Nagarajan's vocal support, well below levels of what one has heard from this singer, in spite of strangely reduced energy, had its moments in the performance. Sikhamani on the violin and Srinivasan on the flute provided very tuneful instrumental support. In the brief musical interlude, as the dancer changed costumes, when both instrumentalists began and ended alap passages in Atana, the Mohanam on the flute was singularly soulful.

LEELA VENKATARAMAN

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