Odissi Odyssey
GAURAV PANDEY on Monica Singh’s Dancehouse recital
For Monica Singh, Odissi is a divine experience, and her performances, borne out of devotion to her vocation, make it an almost spiritual experience for her audience too.
To see her on stage at the Dancehouse in Melbourne recently was an opportunity to understand an Indian classical dance style that has evolved over the centuries, but continues to remain deeply rooted at its core. Today, the dance form is in the capable hands of exponents like Monica, who have developed an independent style of their own, yet retained the vocabulary that is thousands of years old.
Monica’s masterful display of the 2000-year-old art form was the kind of performance that left one fully satiated at the end.
She didn’t take long to make an impact, clad as she was in traditional Odissi costume and the entire range of accessories that go with it, including the ankle bells, the tasselled waistband and a flower-shaped white headpiece.
Every thump of Monica’s feet in synchronisation with lovely, rhythmic music – accompanied by the chime of her ankle bells – was an enchanting spectacle in itself. The sum of hundreds of such captivating moments punctuated by fluid, graceful movements of the torso, hand ‘mudras’ and subtle variations in what seemed to be an ever-smiling face was a testimony to the wonders that carefully nurtured talent can achieve.
Odissi dance has gone through many transitions, from a daily ritual performed by temple dancers to its current form which took a definite identity only after India’s independence.
The performance was divided into six parts: Battu, Durga, Kirwani Pallavi, Dasavtar, Asthapadi Vada Si Yadi and Moksha. The pieces highlighted the extensive range of subjects that inspire Odissi dancers, from ancient panels on caves to literary masterpieces, to Indian mythology, to the pursuit of the oneness within. The execution drew on both tradition as well as innovation. Monica, for instance, reworked the music of the first piece ‘Battu’ by removing all accompanying instruments and singing, whereas ‘Dasavtar’ followed conventional ways of depicting the ten incarnations of Lord Krishna.
The programme ended with ‘Moksha,’ which celebrates the dancer reaching a state of inner quietness. ‘Moksha’, which literally means the end of the cycle of birth and death, seemed to bring together the varied flavours of the evening which culminated with Monica’s deft expressions in a position that seemed to embody freedom and surrender at the same time.
The performance was a tribute to the dancer’s ‘bhakti’ – a Sanskrit term which roughly means ‘devotion’ – for her craft. In Monica Singh, Odissi has a worthy interpreter indeed.
