Wonders never cease. Who would believe that a solo evening of the classical North Indian dance form known as Kathak would emerge as one of the hotter tickets of the dance season? You may credit Pandit Chitresh Das for the intense experience of movement and music that cast a spell over a packed San Francisco Yerba Buena Center for the Arts Forum on Saturday (Sept. 27). Das has been occupied with refining and disseminating his art for 40 years and he long ago became one of the Bay Area’s genuine cultural heroes.
The problem is that we haven’t seen his dance at its purest in a while. First, there was India Jazz Suites, a collaboration with tapper Jason Samuels Smith, and its sequel, both phenomenally successful projects that now tour internationally. Then, last September, Das was but one of several luminaries who participated in the historic Kathak at the Crossroads Festival at YBCA. Meanwhile Das’ protégés, like Charlotte Moraga, keep dancing all over the landscape. Which is as it should be.
All admirable, but the weekend’s two solo shows brought back the master in his essence. I remain astonished at the continuing popularity of Kathak, a form that blends tradition with a highly codified technique and aesthetic. This could be considered street dance, only if your particular street runs by a Mughal palace. It’s predominantly a narrative form, but it is also highly improvisatory, so that no two performances resemble each other. The interchange between dancer and musicians gives you the kind of buzz you get at a great jazz concert, and I am not at all surprised to see Kathak artists turn up occasionally at jazz festivals.
Saturday, Das offered us a master class in his art, commanding the spotlight for almost two uninterrupted hours, in tandem with an ensemble of outstanding Indian musicians. If the dancer no longer musters the supersonic turns and inflammatory rhythmic élan he exhibited when he burst upon the scene in the Bay Area 25 years ago, he has brought a seasoned wisdom to every gesture. That Das now fuses the spiritual aspect of his art with the technical in a manner previously unseen (or, perhaps, unnoticed)—well, age has its advantages.
Pandit Chitresh Das. Photo by Scott Chernis.
The eight-part suite Das introduced Saturday (and one that will soon be repeated in an international tour) seemed a project for which the artist has been preparing for 55 of his 63 years (which, in fact, is true). An invocation at the start found the artist bearing incense, kneeling, rising and launching a series of clasped hand poses, his slightest movement underlined by the standard ankle bells. Das called it an evocation of a time “beyond sorrow and pleasure.” The narrative highlight of the evening came with Draupadi’s Bastra Haran-Ghat Bao, a crucial episode in the epic Mahabharata. The story concerns the dishonoring of Draupadi, her appeal to Krishna and the magical events that transpire. Das’ facial muscles, his expressive fingers, his blazing eyes, his measured movements all made words redundant.
Yet, perhaps, the most compelling moments of the evening were collaborative. Das would bark orders to the musicians to subdivide the beat cycle, slapping his thigh to communicate the rhythm he was seeking; and he was off in a dizzying display of spins and percussive footwork. Das’ style of Kathak Yoga, a mixture of movement, speech and chant, seemed in full flower here. One artist inspired another; I was fascinated by his pleas to the classical vocalist, Shweta Javeri, to take the next step, and, in effect, to jam in a more popular manner. True, that Das’ requests to subdivide the beat in a complex fashion might have confused the laypeople in the audience (and I definitely include myself).
The musicians were a stellar lot. They included, among others not identified, Abhijit Bannerjee, tabla; Bhawani Shankar, pakhawaj (a cylindrical drum), Jayanta Banerjee, sitar, and Rohan Misra, sararangi, possibly the most evocative of Indian instruments. The YBCA Forum, however, is a less than ideal venue for a solo evening with Das. Sight lines really are chancy at best, and although the company was accommodating about assigning superior seats, the craning of necks was inevitable. One hopes that, in his next local gig, this performer can find a hall more commensurate with his artistry.
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