What contemporary means to Chandralekha
By C.G. Asmara
JAKARTA (JP): When an event such as Art Summit Indonesia 1995: International Festival on Contemporary Music and Dance is finally realized and audiences begin to see various styles of dance and music side by side, night after night, various questions come to mind. One of those is undoubtedly, "What does it mean to be contemporary?"
For Indian choreographer Chandralekha, whose group performed Mahakal - Invoking Time in Teater Arena, Taman Ismail Marzuki on Sept. 26 and 27, "to be contemporary is not to continue doing the same classical forms and to remain there only, but to relate them also to our times."
As she explained to The Jakarta Post, it is "to understand what you are doing, why you are doing it and the meaning of what you are doing."
Steeped in classical Bharatanatyam dance training (classical female dance originating from southern India) from an early age, Chandralekha began composing contemporary works in the 1980s as a personal quest to release the performance of traditional dance form from mechanization and rote. This in turn lead her to the principles contained in yoga and Indian martial arts, such as kalaripayattu, and to explore the geometries of body, space, and time, as she did in her Jakarta performance.
Mahakal was an exploration of time. It invoked an inner time that slowed down only to pick up again. The reoccurring gestures suggestive of Nataraja, the cosmic dancer whose perpetual dance symbolizes both the creation and destruction of the universe, was a reminder of the continuous nature of time. Unlike the linear western concept of time, the performance stressed the circularity of time as symbolized by the serpent with its tail in its mouth -- without beginning and without end. A sensual birth at the end of the performance of a twisted figure in an ambiguous erotic relationship with his "mother" was suggestive of time reincarnated -- a constant regeneration.
Perhaps the most evocative and powerful scene was of two women lovingly embracing and caressing each other's feet in slow motion while flanked by two menacing male figures who were unable to disturb their sensual "lovemaking". Existing in different conceptual time frames, the women showed that tenderness can obliterate time, and that love can exist in the midst of violence and destruction.
For those familiar with Indian classical dance, Chandralekha's deconstruction of dance, yoga and martial arts movements into their most basic gestures and the fragmented presentation of the accompanying music was perhaps disconcerting at first. However, it was soon apparent that her explorations into the geometries of the body and of space were both bold and liberating.
Nucleodanza
Argentina's Nucleodanza performance in Gedung Kesenian on Sept. 28 and 29 also explored basic gestures and space, although their presentation wasn't based on a traditional dance forms but on gestures from everyday life such as walking, sitting and ironing.
Headed by choreographer Margarita Bali and Susana Tambutti, who were represented by two pieces each, Nucleodanza's pedestrian explorations into a given space and situation (two men on a wall; a couple with two benches; a couple and a table; a woman with a wall, a piece of fabric, a table, an iron and a frame; and a threesome with benches) were innovative and technically flawless.
In Como un Pulpo (Like an Octopus), choreographed by Tambutti, dancers Paula de Luque and Rodolfo Prante explored the relationship between themselves and a large table. While the relationship between the couple blossomed and then soured, the table took on different roles -- as a supporter, as a barrier, as a possession, as a source for competition. A seemingly endless range of possible gestures between the dancers and the table were explored to a backdrop of sampled music that included French dialogue, South American dance rhythms and coughing.
Similarly, Bali's Tilt provided a surreal look at a woman at home with an iron. The piece began with dancer de Luque entangled in a large purple curtain and then followed her travails with a bright red iron, green table and teal blue picture frame that would not behave as they should.
Playing with perspective, so at times it was hard for the audience to tell if it was looking across to the stage or down on it, de Luque appeared at times to defy gravity as the world turned upside down.
By the end of the evening, the four pieces (which also included On the Cornice and Ketiak) invoked an insidious sense of the overwhelming lack of power humans possess in controlling the world around them. Not ever quite knowing when a piece began or how it would end, which end was up and which end was down, Bali and Tambutti's choreography reflected a restlessness in human behavior that makes it impossible to ever achieve a sense of peace and achievement.