Abstract:
Native to the eastern state
of Orissa, the Odissi idiom is deeply devotional but also unabashedly erotic--reason
enough why it didn't exactly flourish under the British occupation. But
[Ratikant Mohapatra]'s two extended narrative solos on Sunday emphasized
feelings of desire far less than the prosaic minutiae of love relationships:
adorning oneself to meet the beloved in the first solo, rearranging one's
coiffure in the aftermath of lovemaking in the second solo.
In an invocational opening solo
and as the troubled hero Arjuna in a static "Bhagavad-Gita" duet opposite
the commanding Daksha Mashruwala, the younger Mohapatra revealed meticulous
training and considerable refinement as an actor, but no great aptitude
for supple Odissi physicality. Perhaps in time . . .
Full Text:
(Copyright, The Times Mirror
Company; Los Angeles Times 2000 allRights reserved)
Odissi is one of the oldest
of India's classical dance idioms, but it suffered a long decline and was
rehabilitated only about a half- century ago, when the study of ancient
texts, temple carvings and other historical evidence helped put it back
on its artistic pedestal.
Central to its renewal has been
Kelucharan Mohapatra, the revered, 74-year-old Odissi scholar, dancer,
choreographer and teacher who appeared at the Japan America Theatre on
Sunday in an uneven but often brilliant program that also featured his
son and three senior disciples.
Native to the eastern state
of Orissa, the Odissi idiom is deeply devotional but also unabashedly erotic--reason
enough why it didn't exactly flourish under the British occupation. But
Mohapatra's two extended narrative solos on Sunday emphasized feelings
of desire far less than the prosaic minutiae of love relationships: adorning
oneself to meet the beloved in the first solo, rearranging one's coiffure
in the aftermath of lovemaking in the second solo.
Putting on an imaginary sari,
stepping on an imaginary thorn, running fingers through cascades of imaginary
hair--out of gestural images such as these Mohapatra conjured up vibrant
and often witty genre scenes. Highly specific facial acting (including
choreographed eye motion) and occasional passages of conventional dancing
(the rhythmic stomp of bare feet and the shimmer of ankle bells) added
layer upon layer of technical complexity.
But, essentially, Mohapatra's
taut, expressive body sculpture told the story of these dances, and the
flow of movement through his body connected all the ravishing details.
Unfortunately, this mastery of body sculpture and flow were exactly the
qualities missing in the performances by his son, Ratikant Mohapatra.
In an invocational opening solo
and as the troubled hero Arjuna in a static "Bhagavad-Gita" duet opposite
the commanding Daksha Mashruwala, the younger Mohapatra revealed meticulous
training and considerable refinement as an actor, but no great aptitude
for supple Odissi physicality. Perhaps in time . . .
Two formal trios showcased the
elegance of Mashruwala, Debi Basu and Anandi Ramchandran (disciples collectively
billed as Sanyuktam). However, the depiction of the goddess Durga deepened
from an artful array of temple-dancer poses and balances into impressive
statements of divine power, with all three women moving as one larger-than-life
sculptural unit.
The proficiency and stamina
of musicians Bijay Jena and Ramesh Chandra Das proved an essential component
of the three-hour program, presented by the Irvine-based Arpana Foundation.
Credit: TIMES DANCE CRITIC
Reproduced with permission
of the copyright owner. Further reproduction or distribution is prohibited
without permission
