Sampradaya Dance Creations’ world premiere of ‘Nirantara, Beyond Space and Time’ presents a contemporary bharatanatyam-based new work for six dancers and four musicians.
When Alastair Macaulay, the chief dance critic at the New York Times, saw Sampradaya Dance Creations perform in 2008, he singled the Toronto troupe out for their spirited work. Watching the company perform Nirantara, Beyond Space and Time at Harbourfront on Thursday night – a performance marking Sampradaya's 25th anniversary – it's easy to understand Macaulay's enthusiasm.
As someone with a ballet background, I'm not usually staggered by the presence of mere technical detail. But bharatanatyam's lexicon of movement draws attention to parts of the body I'd forgotten have expressive potential. Fingertips tremble, eyelashes flutter, sternums soften and glide to one side. The form – which originates from southern India and is referenced in Tamil literature as early as the 3rd century BCE – consistently impresses me with its precision and complexity.
Nirantara, choreographed by artistic director Lata Pada, features several sections that are connected, fittingly, by the theme of wholeness and component parts. The work opens in simplicity: the six dancers are paused in a straight line, their backs towards us. This formation melts away into deep elegant lunges that become the foundation for turns, squats and suspended poses with raised legs. Once the dancers are moving, it's easy to get swept away by the dazzling commotion of beating feet, flat-footed turns and arms that unfurl with speed and grace on a variety of planes.
If you're not overly familiar with Indian dance (and I certainly fall under this category), what's likely to strike you right away are the dancers' expressions. They're almost always smiling. If that sounds dangerously mawkish (and my tolerance for fake onstage grins is admittedly low), it isn't. Instead, one of bharatanatyam's most fascinating qualities is the way that the dancers communicate carefully and deliberately with both the audience and each other. It makes for unspoken dialogue that has the capacity to be both tantalizing and intimate.
This is movingly illustrated in Nirantara's second part, which is composed of three romantic duets. Each couple discovers the other in a distinctly physical way. A man completes the line suggested by his partner's extended arm by unravelling his own at a supplementary angle. Another couple finds demure union through high legs that they connect by the soles of their feet. A third lock eyes, then playfully avert their gaze. Bharatanatyam's intricate wrist-work becomes a way for the dancers to interweave their bodies. Also in this section, it's worth noting Atri Nundy's breathtaking circuit of turns on her knees.
One of the best sections, and the most notably contemporary one, doesn't come until near the end of the 70-minute performance. If I needed any more convincing of the dancers' skill, it was offered here in excess via technically demanding leaps, tricky suspensions and luxurious, balletic backbends. But what makes this part doubly interesting is watching the way that bharatanatyam's signature use of stillness and playfulness can inform contemporary steps.
The work is set to live music composed and performed by classical pianist Anil Srinivasan and Carnatic singer Sikkil Gurucharan, and gorgeous traditional instruments (mridangam and sarangi) played by Shri S. Surenthar and Aruna Narayan Kalle respectively. Gurucharan's singing is plaintive and resonant, but, at times, I found Srinivasan's melodies somewhat trite. I was also distracted by the visual projections of circles and symbolic shapes over the stage, which seemed a bit heavy-handed as accompaniment to a work about the continuity of life. And while Lata Pada's two solos were interesting insofar as displaying her mastery of the character component of her form, they both went on too long and lacked underlying tension.
But these are minor quibbles in a piece that is both beautiful testament to an ancient tradition and a work of dynamic art in its own right.
Nirantara, Beyond Space and Time continues at the Fleck Dance Theatre in Toronto until Saturday, May 23.
Martha Schabas