Utterly Irresistible

DANCE
Solo And Paper Doll
By Padmini Chettur
Esplanade Theatre Studio
Last Saturday

Deng Fuquan

ALTHOUGH Padmini Chettur has graced reputable dance festivals in Europe, she has been conspicuously absent in Asia.

So, by presenting this sterling Indian choreographer, hence reclaiming the region's artistic gem, the Esplanade made a shrewd choice indeed – bravo.

Chettur's debut here was nothing less than a double treat.

She presented her dance Solo first on Sept 5 and then her ensemble creation, Paper Doll, last Saturday.

Both works unveiled a taut vision that took contemporary Indian dance for what it is, and how it should look, to radical dimensions.

At the core of Chettur's work was resistance.

She sought to re-order tradition, even as she was rooted in the classical Indian dance form of Bharatanatyam.

Like her guru Chandralekha, India's contemporary dance doyenne, Chettur rejected fancy gestures, overt emotions and other dance clichés. So there were no gods, no epics and no mysticism.

Hers was, instead, a study of anatomy and kinesics. The audience's perception was directed to the motion arising essentially from the architecture of the body.

Onlookers saw measured movement phrases which unfolded through repetition and accumulation.

Unlike British choreographer Akram Khan who, at last year's Singapore Arts Festival, seamlessly wed classical Kathak dance with contemporary technique, Chettur consciously built dissonance into her work.

Dutch composer Maarten Visser's intriguing score of fragmented sounds generated tension too, adding texture and fissure to the flesh and movement on stage.

Much as there was resistance against harmony, there was also a masterful hand that left no room for random improvising.

And, despite the calculated austerity, each work exuded a dignified vulnerability. For instance, in Paper Doll, four dancers garbed in roasted beige, moved at first to a metronomic drill before collapsing gradually, as if they were bodies with no will.

Then, the mottled backdrop of different ochre shades intensified and darkened. The dancers moved ever so slightly, some drifting forward, others backward, all the while with their backs to the audience.

In this contemplative landscape, one of the dancers would suddenly stoop to the floor, becoming a seemingly legless torso.

With scenes such as this, Chettur enacted moving metaphors of femininity on stage, which were all sublime and resonant.

It may be said that within her art of abstraction lies a sophisticated mind and intrinsic beauty.

PADMINI CHETTUR
Solo
Schaubuehne in Berlin

Katja Werner

In part one the accent is mainly on the arms. Head to foot she's a bow, the arms arrows shooting out from her chest. Fingertips curved upward, a reminiscence of the origins. But the face remains stern, impassive. No charming batting of the eyes. No eye contact in fact. Instead all the focus on the movements. Not many of them, really. Padmini Chettur is a true minimalist. But the few, carefully chosen gestures, the minute variations in what seem perpetual repetitions are executed with the utmost calm intensity. Austere. Graceful. And hypnotic. Part two finds her sitting in a square of light on the floor. It is devoted entirely to the task of stretching the body, drawing the bow so to speak, and letting it find its way to an upright position. Amazing, how detailed an analysis of what it actually takes just to stand up. Back to the basics. How to perform the pure shape of a movement. How to make its essence visible. To polish it until it shines. Without embellishing it. No frills. Discard all excess. There's to be no narrative, no other communication than what the dance itself communicates. Light, silence, and a collage of music and voice faintly suggesting a cultural backdrop, support that quest appropriately. At last, starting from a spot in part three, Chettur takes off into the space, having developed, step by step, a simple, elegant phrase that looks almost familiar. Indian. But: Contemporary Indian.

Now that is something unusual. The pressure to preserve the classical form must be enormous in India, and the product sells much better abroad. Easy for a beautiful, "exotic" woman to get a gig on the European continent. Dark eyes, hair, and skin further facilitate the matter. If they exploit their heritages, who can hold it against the "ethnic" artists swarming our stages? Well, there's a lot to be said about that. But just to be sure: Padmini Chettur doesn't need the exoticism bonus. Good for her, because as it is, she would always refuse to deliver the expected Indian fare. Though certainly a beautiful woman, she resists the temptation to seduce – choosing instead to convince. Her second appearance at the Schaubuehne in Berlin achieved that goal completely. The triptych sole is fascinating and of such severe clarity, it shatters all expectations of what dance from India is about – while it is obviously imbued with tradition.

No wonder, Chettur is trained in Bharatanatyam. After looking for complete detachment from her classical formative years, tradition is no longer a corset for her. She can now use it freely, manipulate and quote, cut down, extract, abstract, dissect, emphasize, appropriate, reject, or embrace. She does all of that. And more - by doing so much less. But with regal sovereignty. Prettiness is the last thing you'd associate with Padmini Chettur.