Bharathanatyam
Dance Recital, Berne Switzerland, 2003
(c) 2004 Linda Eisele
Saturday, December 6, 2003, attending a Bharathanatyam dance recital at the Hochschule für Architektur und Technik in Berne, Switzerland, an Indian Lunch Buffet begins at noon. After
lunch, we move into the auditorium. In front of closed gray curtains, pale yellow
flowers lay interspersed with lit lamps, to the right, a statue of the dancing God, Shiva, hands and feet touching the inside
of a brass ring, rays flowing from his head. Herr Meyer, president of the Verein
Pro Schule Bangalore, presents a history of the school's progress and introduces the dancers, Lakshmi K. Devadas and K. Shanmuga
Sundaram who will graciously donate their fee for the benefit of the school in Bangalore.
Shrimati Lakshmi K. Devadas is a passionate Bharathanatyam dancer
and poet from Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, South India. She currently lives in Fribourg in Switzerland. Lakshmi began her Bharathanatyam education in the Tanjore
Pandannalur style with Guru Ganapathiappan in Coimbatore, India. She trained with several others and now studies with Shri A. Lakshman
in Chennai, India. Besides frequently performing Bharathanatyam South Indian
classical dance, she teaches Bharathanatyam.
K. Shanmuga Sundaram has undergone a long and complicated training
to become one of the leading male Bharathanatyam dancers in Chennai. A star disciple of Guru Kalaimamani Shrimathi K.J. Sarasa, he has many
solo dances and dances with leading Bharathanatyam dance personalities to his credit.
An A Grade artist, he has received several awards and won many prizes including the esteemed Tamil Nadu Government
Young Talent Award. Besides performing regularly in India and abroad, Shanmuga Sundaram leads a successful dance school, Sathir,
in Chennai.
"We have two very special guests with us today: the ambassadors to Switzerland from India,
Shri Praveen L. Goyal and the Ambassador to Canada, Monsieur Jean-Paul Hubert," Herr Meyer says. He gives the floor to the Ambassador from India, Mr. Goyal, who expresses his great pleasure at being here, especially as "Lakshmi
is a very dear friend." He tells us, "Bharathanatyam
is the leading dance form of contemporary India. The first references to the Bharathanatyam dance form are to be found in Silapatikaram,
epic poetry composed during the early Golden Age of the Tamil culture which extends from 500 B.C. to 500 A.D. Bharathanatyam is a 2500 year old dance form rooted in classical literature, especially poetry, and most
especially, poetry set to music. Indian culture endorses a holistic approach
with a philosophical view on how to live your life. The philosophy of the dance
has a physical part (which you practice) and, as with yoga, a philosophical part. The
structure creates a mandala of conceptual form which inspires Indian architecture, especially the architecture of temples,
and, it gives a worldview. The dance reduces philosophical concepts to practice. It is made up of Tala and Laya. Tala
is the beat, usually given by hand, but sometimes by drum; Laya is the rhythm, the basis of movements in time and space. In the Classical form of dance, you disassociate yourself to find the language of
the dance which is universal. The dance uses a repertoire of gestures. You don't need to understand the words to know what the dancers are saying.
"A typical Bharathanatyam recital has a traditional order which
carefully prepares the dancer, as well as the audience, with its gradual increase in tempo and challenge. The great diva, Smt. T. Balasaraswati (1914 to 1984), a peerless exponent of this art, has given a beautiful
analogy. Balasaraswati tells, the Bharathanatyam recital is structured like a
great temple. You enter through the gopuram or outer hall of alarippu. The first piece prepares you to cross into the ardhamandapam or halfway hall of jatiswaram. Melody is added to rhythm to reach the great hall, the mandapam of shabdam.
In response to the dance, you enter the holy precinct of the deity in the varnam, the heart of the temple. The diva says, 'Dancing to the padam is akin to the juncture
when the cascading lights of worship are withdrawn and the drumbeats die down to the simple and solemn chanting of sacred
verses in the closeness of god. The tillana breaks into movement like the final
burning of camphor accompanied by a measure of din and bustle. In conclusion,
the devotee takes to his heart the god he has so far glorified outside; and the dancer completes the traditional order by
dancing to a simple devotional verse.'
The ambassador continues,
"Bharathanatyam dance places rhythm, melody, mood, movement, and music together in one continuum which leads to self-fulfillment
in the fullest scope. It is creativity through interpretation. You achieve containment, cool, and quiet after the expanse and brilliance of the outer corridors.
"What is more important?"
he asks. "Not who dances, but the audience and the dancer finding empathy
to share the moment. The dancer creates; the audience shares until you can no
longer distinguish between audience and art, between the artist and the art which is there."
At 2:35,
the dance recital begins. How to describe this event? It is a true Murphy's law experience: whatever can go wrong will go wrong.
And yet, this doesn't matter. The dancers transcend the technical difficulties
through the dance. Even during the long pauses while technicians attempt to find
the music for the next dance, dancers and audience are united in frustration. However,
when the music begins, Lakshmi and Shanmuga are totally present -- body, mind, and spirit -- in the dance. Because of their professionalism, in the end it is the dance which triumphs.
An Indian girl, Sumita, appears by the stage and explains, "In this first dance, Pushpanjali (Raga Amrthavarshini), you will see a flower chain,
a call from God to you which will join you with the dancers in a form of prayer. It
is followed by a shlokam invoking the blessings of Lord Ganesha, Goddess Saraswathi for learning, Goddess Lakshmi for good
luck, and Angikam, Bhuvanam Yasya from Nandikeswaras Abhinaya Darpana."
The music begins. Lakshmi
and Shanmuga appear onstage dressed in exquisite costumes of red and gold created by Shri D.S. Aiyyelu of Chennai. During the Pushpanjali, their movements are perfectly synchronized as they slap the ground with bare feet,
bells at their ankles jangling to create rhythm and beat.
At the end of Pushpanjali, the girl introduces Nagendraharaya (Ragam Ragamallika), a hymn in praise of Lord Shiva who wears a snake around his neck and has a third eye on his forehead, always pure,
with the Ganges river flowing from his head and sandal paste on his skin. Lord Shiva makes the Ganges when he
lets water fall from heaven to save the earth. In this dance, Lakshmi dances alone. She is exquisitely feminine, body perfect, balance
impeccable, countenance tranquil. I am amazed that she can move with such skill,
endurance, and agility! Knees bent fully, her skirt flares like a golden fan
nearly touching the floor. Red silk disappears.
She bows her head, revealing a perfect oval of black hair at the center of a ring of white flowers surrounded by red
flowers. When she stands, her long black braid dangles behind, tied up at the
waistband. As I watch, I become part of the dance.
The third dance, Varanamukha va; Kirthi (Ragam Hamsathvani,
Talam Adi) is a beautiful kiriti by Shri Kotteswara Iyer in praise of Lord Ganesha.
Poor Shanmuga stands at the center of the
stage. "The next," he whispers softly; "the next." A Swiss technician stares,
face expressionless, into a computer monitor near the stage. Each time music
begins, it is the wrong music. The Swiss beckons to a young Indian man, Keshav, seated
in the audience who comes forward to help coerce the computer to cooperate. How
difficult such a disruption must be for the complete and total concentration required to execute the complicated and difficult
steps of the Bharathanatyam dance in which no movement is repeated! When the
proper music is found, Shanmuga dances. His poses are flawless. He clasps the toes of one foot high above his head behind his back, holding perfectly still; even the bells
on his ankles making no sound. In another pose, he grasps toes, holding his foot
high out to the side, the heel forming an unbelievable angle of 25 degrees.
The next dance, which includes various karanas and thandava
of Lord Shiva, is a dynamic Sankara Sri
Gri (Ragam Hamsanandhi), a well-known composition by Maharaja Swati Thirunal. Again,
technical difficulties create a long pause during
which four guests rise and depart. Will
Lakshmi be able to dance? When the music begins, she appears onstage. She does not miss a beat. Pure professionalism guides her. She is the dance: smiling; centered.
The fifth dance is Geetham on Sita (Ragam Panthuvarali, Talam Aadi ), a composition
by the poet Narasima in praise of Sita -- the goddess of beauty and prosperity and the wife of Lord Rama -- and
Lord Vishnu. Choreographed by Shri A. Lakshman, the mood of the dance is fine
and gentle as it describes the beauty of lotus-eyed Sita radiant as the moon, and the marriage of Sita and Rama, the
only one who could bend and break the bow and thus win her in marriage.
The sixth dance is an exceptionally beautiful Thillana (Ragam Kundaravarali, Talam Adi) composed by Dr. M. Balamurali
Krishna and choreographed brilliantly by Shrimathi K.J. Sarasa. This dance tells
the story of Lord Krishna with a swift tempo and dynamic choreography of nritta or rhythmic movement. Lakshmi and Shanmuga display a succession of foot rhythms and sculpturesque poses, graceful movements of arms and body. Their
precision is breath-taking, their
agility, amazing.
In the middle of the dance, unexpectedly, lights come on illuminating the audience.
Someone manages to extinguish them. Only the back of the stage is lit. At the front, Lakshmi and Shanmuga are silhouettes.
The dance ends with Mangalam. The audience applauds and applauds. Lights come on. Center stage, Lakshmi
thanks the audience, "for your patience during the long pauses."
Shanmuga is thrilled with this Swiss audience. "If so many technical difficulties were encountered in Madras," he tells Lakshmi, "everyone
would have left." When I approach to thank him for the dance, he clasps my hand
and shakes it vigorously, beaming appreciation. "Thank you! Thank you!" he repeats, then asks, "How was my dance?"
"Fabulous!"
"Thank you, thank you!"
Lakshmi's foot is bleeding
where the bell-covered bracelet rests against it. She says, "The technical difficulties were a challenge for our concentration.
When you dance, it requires the whole of you: soul, body, mind." Soul,
body, and mind is what Lakshmi and Shanmuga have given to the dance.