Samyuktam, a dance troupe is riving a dying dance form from Orissa
Samyuktam, a dance troupe is riving a dying dance form from Orissa THE conquest of Orissa, once called Kalinga, persuaded the mighty Emperor Ashoka to abandon the sword for the saffron robes of a Buddhist monk. The land of lush green rice fields, of the almost unknown haven of tranquillity called the Chilika Lake, of the exquisite sun temple of Konark, of the golden beaches of Puri, of steel plants and rocket launching sites. And, also of the famous Odissi dance form, born in the temples and nurtured by the patronage of legendary princely families. A dance form that could have faced the fate of several other traditional arts in the post-independence era populism, decay or extinction. The dance form, whose renaissance was spearheaded by Late Guru Kelucharan Mahapatra, a small graceful man, whose name has acquired legendary dimensions. His numerous disciples, steeped in the tradition, are now interpreting this exquisite cultural legacy to contemporary audiences.
Picture this, my first encounter with "Samyuktam": Arriving in a cyclone-struck Bhubaneshwar, post sunset, with uprooted trees, uprooted homes, no electricity, no one to greet us, no water, no bread, and no vehicle that could take us anywhere. Utterly distressed, almost in the middle of nowhere we understood, we grouped together three dancers and three nomads of the collective unconscious, in search of repose, and sanity. After an exhausting hunt, we located a run-down hotel near the beach, and felt our way up to the rooms. And then, the three dancers decided this was it! No more pathos! Celebrate the oasis in a parched desert.
So, they transform themselves into 'Apsaras'. Right in the middle of an insignificant room, addressing an insignificant audience, they present exquisite enactments of Radha, Meera, Krishna, Asur, a snake, a tree. Even as the sun was way into its slumber, the dance of the goddesses to appease the gods continued Anandi, also a carnatic singer, and the most volatile of the three, sang till the wee hours Debi Appa combined Shringar and Virah Rasa (of the Navras) to call upon the ever elusive Krishna, while Daksha Appa took on the various forms of a woman Durga, Kali, Shakti. In total darkness, a million lamps suddenly illuminated and magic happened.
That is the world of Debi Basu, Daksha Mashruwala and Anadi Ramchandran. Separate lives, solo performances, individually trained danseuses, who converge occasionally to create a glowing whole. They also work together to revive other traditional arts of Orissa painting, Odissi music and the regional street form of Odissi dance.
Together, they organise workshops and seminars to spread awareness and appreciation of a neglected cultural treasure from the Eastern shores of India.
Daksha Appa (suffix fondly used by her students), the most vocal of the three, talks about their mission "Our dance form came from the temples, went to the streets, and has now come to the auditorium. Our mission is almost to take the unpolished quality of the street dance, which still exists with populist mannerisms, and to restore to it its original classicism. We also want to build up the relationship of Odissi dance to traditional Oriya paintings. That is also a dying art. Oriya paintings are exorbitant now."
As a group, they spell magic. "Each of us performs individually. But, there are times when we want to do something totally creative. In today's world, when a dancer is required to do everything starting from raising funds, to the publicity we have no infrastructure it takes a lot of time, a lot of effort. For the practical benefits and the creative benefits, we formed 'Samyuktam', which is what our 'togetherness' is called, says Daksha.
When they perform together, they could be mistaken for original gopis from Brindavan. Every character they enact comes alive effortlessly. Together they are a riot. Their themes reach out to the deepest recesses of the human mind, often hovering at the borderline between the manifest and the obscure, the literal and the oblique, the sacred and the profane. One of their recent pieces was an episode in which one gopi imagines she is Krishna and, as Krishna, flirts with other gopis. Despite the explicit taboo-less eroticism of Krishna Leela literature, a daring theme for a society that frowns upon suggestions of homosexuality. How cleverly art legitimises the unmentionable by resorting to the Divine Mataphor!
Recently they worked on a venture called 'Dimensions of Love' where they go through the whole gamut of love, from pain to pleasure and ultimate surrender to the idea that they are actually two sides of the same coin. In this item, they departed from enacting Krishna and Radha as characters, but use them as symbols of love as just a name for love. Their latest project was a choreographic presentation of Kalidasa's six Nayikas or protagonists. "Each of us chose two characters and did the choreography for our respective roles. The Kalidasa Sammelan wanted to make sure that there is no misinterpretation of the poetry. So, we stuck to its authenticity and innovated within its parameters," explains Daksha.
Samyuktam is an electrifying trio. It is a sheer delight watching them dance. Even when they talk to you, they exude a subdued sensuality that becomes second nature to those trained to celebrate the Divine Metaphor of Krishna Leela. Their eyes possess the perennial sparkle of mischief. Yet, beneath this appealing, and even seductive, surface, lies the substance of backbreaking toil, and of a reverential dedication to art, which verges on spirituality.
Interestingly, none of the 'Samyuktam' members hails from Orissa. Debi is from Bengal. Daksha's mother tongue is Gujarati. And Anadi is a Tamilian. A powerful affirmation of India's cultural tenacity.
Performing at Godrej Dance Academy on May 29.
The writer is the managing editor of Marwar
