On a memorable evening at The Music Academy dance festival, the audience had the pleasure of witnessing an artistic confluence where music and dance wove together in a stunning display of cultural prowess. The stage was graced by the renowned dancer, Rama Vaidyanathan, whose performance on January 7, 2024, was more than just a dance recital; it was an exploration of the emotive power of sringara, the rasa of love.
The inaugural piece of the night, ‘Sringara rasamanjari,’ set the thematic tone, showcasing Rama’s interpretative mastery. This eloquent composition by Muthuswami Dikshitar in raga Rasamanjari is an ode to goddess Kamakshi. The dancer, with precise sancharis, depicted a vivid picture of the deity, intricately detailing Kamakshi’s divine form, attire, and ornaments. Every movement was a brush stroke painting a larger picture of adoration and devotion.
The narrative then smoothly transitioned to the Bhairavi ata thala varnam, a celebrated work by Pacchimiriam Adiappayya. Here, the audience witnessed a storytelling marvel. A lotus’s life cycle—from bloom to eventual wilting and submersion—echoed the emotional journey of the lovelorn nayika. The metaphor was rich; the lotus, much like the nayika, stood radiant before slowly succumbing to the sands of time, petal by petal, just as the nayika’s own heart experienced the stages of longing and despair reflected in love’s ebb and flow.
Rama Vaidyanathan’s artistry shone through her portrayal of Rajagopala, bringing to life the tales of Krishna as the cowherd. With nuanced gestures and an underlying current of humor, she queried a mischievous cow as if chiding, ‘Are you a peacock to prance around instead of following the herd?’ This delightful moment provided a counterpoint to the more solemn expressions of devotion that pervaded the evening.
The technical aspect of the performance was equally captivating. The nritta—pure dance segments—featured precise alignment between the dancer, nattuvanar, and the mridangist, resulting in compelling rhythmic patterns that flowed in harmony with the narrative’s mood. These sections showcased the impeccable timing and unity amongst the artists, which are the hallmark of a well-crafted Carnatic dance performance.
The allure of sringara rasa continued to unfurl with the plaintive notes of the flute setting a romantic backdrop for a woman emerging from a euphoric slumber. ‘O je mane na mana,’ a poignant song by Rabindranath Tagore, told her story, capturing the delicate moment of dawn after a night of passion, her pleas for her beloved to depart with the rise of the sun echoing in the ethos of the performance space.
The climax of the evening was a sophisticated swara padam that contemplated Lord Shiva’s multitude of aspects. The devotion-evoking questioning of the devotee—whether Shiva was the divine figure on the bull, the vanquisher of Kama, or the composite form merged with Devi—was conveyed with Rama’s expressive capabilities. Her portrayal of ardhanarishwara, the half-male, half-female aspect of Shiva, was particularly striking, with the simple gesture of her palm covering half her face speaking volumes about the dual nature of divinity.
The musicians accompanying the dance narrative were pivotal in shaping the rasanubhava, the experience, and appreciation of the rasa. Sudha Raghuraman’s vocalization not only kept perfect time with Vaidyanathan’s dance but elevated the emotional resonance of the entire performance. The mridangam by Sumod Sreedharan, and the flute in the hands of Raghuraman, carried melodies that caressed the audience’s senses through to the final act. S. Vasudevan’s handling of the cymbals was flawless, adding a fine rhythmic layer to the performance.
Rama Vaidyanathan at The Music Academy’s December festival reaffirmed the transformative potential of classical Indian dance and music, and the evening stands as a testament to the enduring appeal of India’s rich artistic heritage.
