“When we look at the body in finer and finer detail, can we find what we’re protecting? If we visualise searching right down amid the very marrow for the thingness of our body, can we find it? Attachment to one’s physical form is based on the body being a reliable, continuous entity. But can we pinpoint what we’re clinging to when we probe its depths?”
Pema Chödrön
This quote from Tibetan Buddhist nun, Pema Chödrön, is printed in the programme for Aditi Mangaldas Dance Company’s Inter-rupted, part of this year’s Dance Umbrella Festival. It is a text about attachment, the subject Mangaldas explores choreographically in seventy-five minutes of uninterrupted choreography. She and her six dancers appear and disappear, gather and disperse, disintegrate and re-form, interlock and unlock, yet all these contrasts form a series of scenes without borders, one merging into the next, each with a symbolism of its own that is carried in the movement. While Mangaldas set out to counter the temporal nature of life by resisting the notion of attachment, in the course of making the work she had to face the very nature of attachment she had set out to explore. Woven into the cloth of the work is thus the solitary thread of its imperfection. Mangaldas herself embodies this dynamic contradiction as she brings us into the fragile moment, “like any we might strive to hold on to…even if all is transient, all is flowing, and all is Inter-rupted.” Her dancers ‒ Karan Gangani, Minhaz, Aamrapali Bhandari, Anjana Singh, Sunny Shishodiya and Manoj Kumar ‒ move like a chorus that flows with and around her with virtuosic, fire-cracker footwork, vertiginous turning and a wonderfully lyrical use of gesture and voice. In addition to a recorded sound score by Sajid Akbar, the company is joined on stage by three gifted musicians ‒ Mohit Gangani on tabla and padhant, Ashish Gangani on pakhawaj and padhant, and Faraz Ahmed on vocals ‒ who punctuate the choreographic flow with, respectively, virtuosic rhythms and plaintive song.
In some ways Inter-rupted is familiar territory; it is a journey of “exploring the past (of kathak) with a modern mind” that Akram Khan has been forging in this country for the last sixteen years. Khan, however, was born in England and has been working with an international cast of performers in a country that welcomes cross-cultural fertilisation as an expression of its identity; Mangaldas and her dancers have had to challenge the established norms of kathak from within its own cultural context. As she wrote in response to a question I asked her, this process “does raise debates in India but that makes the entire conversation alive and relevant. There is a growing appreciation of looking at our classical traditions in contemporary contexts and a huge appreciative viewership that encourages change. So the environment is quite vibrant with debate and interesting new directions.” Inter-rupted thus resists tradition while remaining very much within it, a very different proposition to that of Khan; Mangaldas’s work looks refreshingly like the real thing.
What makes the aesthetic of Inter-rupted familiar, perhaps, is that the production team includes some of Khan’s key figures he had introduced to Mangaldas nearly seven years ago, since when they have been working together on various productions: Farooq Chaudhry is listed as dramaturg, Fabiana Piccioli as lighting designer and Kimie Nakano designed the costumes. The confluence of Piccioli and set designer Manish Kansara ‒ a sculptor based in Delhi ‒ is visually stunning: an airy, three-sided space in shades of ochre that acts, depending on the lighting, as much like a large interior room as it does an undefined exterior space. The very opening shows a solitary man short of breath shaking uncontrollably in his room as he stares out at the audience, his body disintegrating until he recedes into the dark. Out of the dark we see the figure of Mangaldas slithering diagonally backwards through a shadowy, open space dragging a cloth that unwinds into a broad stream of material that she gathers in slowly and purposefully as six figures enter the space that becomes a room once again.
Nakano’s evident understanding of and sensibility to kathak rhythms allows her costumes to breathe and flow with the movement while maintaining an ascetic, spiritual quality in which the work is painted.
But while Mangaldas’s collaborators give Inter-rupted its aesthetic cohesion, it is the richness of the material ‒ Pema Chödrön’s ‘thingness’ ‒ and its interpretation that make the body-and-mind struggle to face its true nature a cause for celebration.