Priyadarshini Govind: expression of epic proportion

Priyadarshini Govind needs no song, instrument, demonstration or special lighting effects to tell her story — her face is enough. In a performance filled with abhinaya-heavy pieces, Govind played up her forte: her expression. It was a traditional performance, complete with prayer, alarippu, varnam, padam…… in fact, I was pleasantly surprised. It has been so long since I have seen a dancer of similar caliber actually go through the traditional sequential order of dance pieces during a show. Usually, they opt for themes. But in sticking to a very traditional selection of pieces, Govind actually set herself apart from other dancers, who now choose to mesh dance styles or manifest modern themes to revamp Bharatanatyam.

I try to take something away from each dance performance I watch, one major thing that stands out, and in the case of Govind it was without a doubt her uncanny ability to narrate using just her eyes. In the varnam, the nayaki asks her friend to bring Lord Nataraja to her quickly, for Cupid’s arrows have penetrated her heart and left her longing. The pain of separation displayed in Govind’s eyes were unbelievably compelling, so much so that I’ll bet any audience member was thinking, “Perhaps she really IS apart from someone.”  ( call me gullible, I know I did.) Her looks of longing were more convincing than any other dancer I’ve seen.

But more than her expression of pain, it was her expression of cavalier indifference that I found amusing as the nayaki says, “Why should I be afraid to express my love? Everyone knows already. I am not afraid. Let them talk.” I thought her portrayal of fear, confidence, carelessness and playfulness in such quick succession was skillful and mature. Similarly, in her padam, she was tactful in showing the reluctance by a Shiivite  devotee being seduced by a Vishnavite; while the  body language pushes her pursuer away, her eyes cannot gaze away from him. “Go away, and do not stand at the temple threshold, pull my sari, or press your lips against mine,” she says, although, she continues to look on after she has locked him out.  Again, it’s not that these are sentiments I have never before seen in dance — rather, it’s that I’ve never seen anyone illustrate them so candidly.

I actually didn’t like the adavu sequences in this performance. There was too much scampering around, too much movement and dashing across the stage to take in what was going on. I’ll give Govind the benefit of the doubt — perhaps this is not Govind’s fault but just reflective of her school’s style. But I have never cared for repeated prancing. No, scratch that…any prancing. However, I didn’t mind sitting through the adavus because Govind’s expression had me locked.

Adavus aside, for those who can read faces well, in Govind’s performance, they would find an epic.