THIRD DAY AT IGNITE – TWO THUMBS UP, ONE DOWN: 12 November 2010

A short day for me today at Ignite. I went in only in the afternoon missing the morning paper presentations. Post-lunch, moderated a conversation with Padmini Chettur, Veena Basavarajaiah and Sudesh Adhana. Since the last has not shown his work yet, it was really difficult for the audience to engage with him, and most of the questions at the end of the session went – understandably and most deservedly – to Padmini, touching on questions of tautness and tension, audience behaviour, whether a choreographer’s note is necessary or not… all to do with her work, but many also questions surrounding the performance, perception and development of an Indian contemporary dance.

Fabian Barba -
'A Mary Wigman Dance Evening'

We were then in for an unexpected and utterly absorbing presentation by the Ecuadorian choreographer-performer Fabian Barba. Fabian has been fascinated by the works of Mary Wigman, one of the pioneers of German Expressionist and Abstract Dance in the 1920s. Fabian has reconstructed nine of her solo pieces through references to very limited video material, photographs Wigman’s own writing and writings by others, and training with three living choreographers who have worked with Mary Wigman – one of them being Susanne Linke. The ambiance of the period was aptly created by three dim chandeliers in the intimate British Council auditorium. Each piece was performed in a single light state and, along with the recreated costumes and somehow scratchy music (the original pieces Wigman used), really managed to set a tone of the time. I was transported to the ear of silent film. Little touches like the graceful and grave bows at the end of each piece were lovely. A brief post show conversation threw up some interesting connections from the audience – specifically from Sunil Kothari and Sadanand Menon. Zohra Segal had met Mary Wigman in Germany and began working with her. She later joined Uday Shankar – also a friend of Wigman. Madame Menaka of India was working at the same time and they had both met in Germany as well. And of course, the ‘new’ dances being created in Europe and America at that time by the likes of Wigman, Isadora Duncan and Ruth St. Denis – a rejection of the stately classical ballet and an embracing of a more earthy, meditative movement – were all inspired by a highly exoticised idea of India, and collectively called ‘Hindu Dances’.

Post this, however, I was appalled by the next presentation. British Council has a large walled in courtyard – with a sculpture at one end and two wide and high passageways leading through the surrounding building on two sides. The fourth side is the main building from where we emerge into the courtyard. Rajyashree Ramamurthi had created what she called a ‘site-specific’ performance in this space, hanging tiny bells in one passageway and what looked like fairy lights in the other, and making a trail of white footprints from the sculpture to the bells to the lights…. Over and above anything else, my question is – what makes a work site specific? Having done some amount of such work with a couple of the most experimental directors in Europe, my understanding is that it must in some way come out of what the space gives you, demands – your response to the physicality and the ‘ghosts’ of the space. Therefore a site-specific piece demands and assumes a conversation with a space that affects the everyday perception of it. Hanging bells does no such thing and choosing to dance – no, let me rephrase that to choosing to move convulsively – now in front of the sculpture, now in one passageway… without so much as a second glance at the space itself is absolute nonsense. How is it essentially any different then, than Parsee theatre companies performing before drop scenes? It is actually – at least the scenes acted out in front of specific drop scenes take place in the locations depicted: they wouldn’t use a drop scene of a palace when a deer hunt in a deep forest was in progress. It was by far the most self-indulgent and shallow work I’ve seen so far at Gati – not that I could bring myself to see all of it. Never mind content or form – there was no energy for me to respond to as an audience as she staggered and fell along her path to God Knows Where and What and Why! A contemporary dancer friend and myself escaped to the canteen. ‘Dull’, I said – trying to be polite. ‘Dullness I can stand’, she retorted. ‘It’s the complete randomness of it that gets me’. True, too true!!!

Aditi Mangaldas Dance Company -
'Timeless'

The evening ended on an upward curve with Aditi Mangaldas’ Timeless – exploring time. Time is a brow-beaten theme and point of departure for every Kathak dancer doing traditional or experimental work, and I can’t say there was anything really new or exciting about her interpretation and exploration of Time. It became – as is the norm in Kathak – all about rhythmic complexities and interplay and a show of virtuosity. Be that as it may, it was performed with élan, style and energy – though a little more thought to the graph of the pace would have been nice. Other than an evocative beginning shrouded in mystery and minimal movement, the piece rarely dropped from a frenetic pace. Spins, footwork, bol parhant, live pakhawaj playing, sharpness, staccato moves, flamboyance – all the usual suspects of Kathak were out in scintillating force coupled with a superbly timed and specific light design. My favourite moments though were Aditi-di’s solo. Performed to two repeated lines of a thumri sung in alaap by the inimitable Shubha Mudgal (one of the rare drops in pace), it reminded me yet again why she is such a brilliant performer. Alone on stage – and she is as petite as you can get – she filled the space with even the most subtle movements of the fingers. It was sheer poetry, and I for one would have loved to have seen more of it rather than the display Kathak has become so known and feted for.

So two thumbs up, and one thumb way down. Not a bad day at all!