Ranvir Shah's response
to an article by Bruno Kavanagh
that appeared in The Hindu dated 15th February 2008
It was not a surprise to see the large numbers of people that reacted
to the article in the Hindu by Bruno Kavanagh, from the dance community
and outside it than those who reacted to the work presented by his wife
Preeti Vasudevan with him as a collaborator which was presented at Prakriti
Foundation's Tree of Life Festival in Chennai recently. Emails, text messages
and angry phone calls seemed to be doing the rounds in a flurry of great
annoyance and backlash to the article 'Abstract Art, Exploring new images'
where Mr.Kavanagh justifies the production as a "great show" and then lectures
us on the meaning of art, after which he berates the Chennai audience for
not wanting to participate in the two way experience that is art, and not
comprehending abstraction and still finding a need for the pegging of a
narrative!! Phew!
As the presenter and festival organiser who presented this show I would
like to clarify many of the issues that Mr.Kavanagh brings up in a patronising
tone in his article.
'The Absent Lover' - was not a show of abstraction, but a series of
images foregrounded with the text of Kalidasa's play 'Vikramorvashiya'.
If the duo of Ms.Vasudevan and Mr.Kavanagh did indeed want to present an
abstract performance then there should have been no need for a story line
plucked from the basket of the exotic Indian cultural past. Having said
this, it is a bit like crying hoarse from the rooftops to call this abstraction.....don't
the collaborators knew what is abstraction? Having made a point in his
article about the Indian mind dealing with abstraction he simplifies it
by adding "think lingam" - surely Mr.Kavanagh we could have expected you
to know us better after engaging with the culture for however short a while
that you have!!
From here we proceed to be told that the Chennai audiences are not ready
to participate in a "two way deal" of accessing the sublime through art
and specifically at the performance of 'The Absent Lover'. This is hysterical
and absurdly funny. Chennai audiences have accessed and appreciated some
of the finest practioners of contemporary dance over the years. In the
last 25 years that I have lived here I have had the joy of seeing the Pilobolus
company, the work of Merce Cunningham and John Cage, Pina Bausch, Suzzanne
Linke and more recently Josef Nage. In the last 10 years I have had the
privilege to present and co curate with my co artistic director Anita Ratnam
at The Other Festival many great dancers such as Rina Schenfield from Israel,
Denise Fujiwara in Butoh from Canada and Constanza Marcos, a Brazilian
from Germany, all of whom got great responses and standing ovations in
many cases! Besides this we also presented a slew of young dancers exploring
the format of contemporary dance on the Indian scene. A wonderful openness
has allowed for the Chennai audience to assimilate, encourage and engage
with these works. On the Indian scene for the last 20 years Chennai has
been the home and laboratory of the late Chandralekha, a dancer who reinvented
the paradigm on how to view abstraction not only in dance but on the concepts
and metaphors of the totality of Indian culture.
Having said this, and coming back to the article of Mr.Kavanagh a large
portion of it then sends us on a lesson on the meaning of art citing Gombrich,
Shelley and Kandinsky. Yes, Mr.Kavanagh we know their work and understand
it, and their philosophies. If only you were to pay attention to exactly
what you say instead of preaching to us it may have actually helped in
the production of the show.
True art does touch the sublime in us, but for that it has to be truly
art. Any discipline requires a deep understanding of the form, a study
that allows for it to be absorbed and finally time and a lot of hard work
- these are the difficulties of all creative persona - be they writers,
musicians, painters, dancers or actors to create that which is meaningful,
real, exciting intense and something that strikes a chord of response,
emotional or otherwise. This was sadly the absent in 'The Absent Lover'.
Mixing genres with a little french soundtrack, posturised story telling,
bad Bharatanatyam, an irritable Baul movement ever so often and very ordinary
dancing cannot make for a great show however hard one tries to cosmeticise
it with costumes, lights or sets, all of which give us a sense of deja
vu.
Why then may you justifiably ask did we present it? As the presenter
do you have the right to criticise something and then subject the audience
to it? The answer is two fold.
Even though the show was presented sight unseen and the expenses very
high by Chennai and international standards I realise that it was an expensive
curatorial mistake.
Primarily as a curator and cultural catalyst our role is to ensure and
present those we believe in and those whose work we see hope in and secondly
to aid and abet the continuing dialogue in the contemporary dance world
in India and more so in Chennai. There are but a handful of practitioners
and most of them are at a nascent stage of discovery of form, style and
what they want to say with their work. If this is not supported by arts
organisation the movement will take longer to grow strong and have its
voice on the world stage. One has to have the faith.
In the case of the Ms.Vasudevan & Mr.Kavanagh, I believe their combined
intelligence and creative abilities will allow them to travel further and
deeper into this adventure of the performing arts. Their combined ambitions
must not let them forget the fundamentals of hard work, solid training
and truly being absorbed by the work and not themselves. There is hope
yet in the coming years that they may surprise us with something that will
creatively engage us, intellectually stimulate us and allow us to access
the sublime, but until then may we request them to concentrate on their
work and not put us in a situation where we are expecting tea at the Ritz
but are served with some tepid water, a classic case of the Emperors new
clothes.
- Ranvir Shah
the founder of Prakriti Foundation
and Artistic Director of The Parks New Festival, Landmark's Poetry
with Prakriti, The Tree of Life festival, Gharana Indian Music Festival,
One Billion Eyes - Indian Documentary Film Festival and Hamara Shakespeare
- a festival of Indian Language Shakespeare.
An edited version of this appeared in The Hindu on Friday Review of
February 29,2008
http://www.hindu.com/fr/2008/02/29/stories/2008022951270400.htm
From www.narthaki.com
website
Boo Hoo Bruno!
... and the politics of whining
A personal response to the recently concluded performance of THE ABSENT
LOVER by Thresh Dance Company and the media machinations by one of the
collaborators in the production..
Okay, the gloves are off! I seem to be itching for a fight after being
pleasant, smiling and allowing nonsense to go on around me in the name
of fair play.
Many know that I am an ardent supporter of young artistes and their
endeavours in the dialogue of contemporary movement. Decades of work through
performance, arts management and internet initiatives have enabled me to
see so much and absorb a great deal of art through the actual process of
life itself. Many times, my frank views have thrown me on a collision course
with the classical dance community which nurtured me in my early years.
I have become known as a modernist and a flag bearer for contemporary dance
and choreo-theatre in India. This website, started almost 10 years ago
has carried so many points of view without any micro-managed mediation.
All in the spirit of the arts and specially, dance.
When I opened THE HINDU's Friday Review on February 15, 2008, I was
surprised to see a large article titled 'In Defence of the Difficult.'
The author of the article is a British internet entrepreneur Bruno Kavanagh,
better known in India as dancer Preeti Vasudevan's husband. (Preeti, a
Bharatanatyam student of the Dhananjayans is now attempting to carve a
bi-continental career as a contemporary dancer-choreographer in the US
and India.)
The article was a dirge on the poor response of the Chennai audience
to the recently staged world premiere of THE ABSENT LOVER, a choreo-theatre
work created by wife Preeti. Peppered between that one single gripe was
a history lesson on the purpose of art and references of poets, painters
and sculptors. What incensed me was its tone and the fact that so much
precious space had been given to what was actually a tedious evening of
dance theatre. I was at the performance and so can truly say that whatever
the writer had to say in "defence" of the production was not what I saw
or experienced. "I could sense a certain lack of enthusiasm," he comments
in the article. Damn right. The audience, or what was left of them at the
end, were downright confused and disappointed. Many important rasikas were
present, including Preeti's dance guru Sri Dhananjayan. The production
had received an impressive media build up and included special 'showings'
at the Alliance Francaise de Chennai, a cultural collaborator in this Indo-French
production. Bruno Kavanagh (hereafter referred to as BK) helped develop
the script based loosely on one episode of Kalidasa's play 'Vikramorvashiya'
in which the king loses his lady love in the forest.
I attended the 'sharing-showing' process of the costume and music developments
at the Alliance auditorium and found the young Baul singer talented and
promising. Baul music is the rage of Europe and I could clearly see that
the entire work had been created with the western audience in mind. A little
smattering of Indian music, a pinch of a jathi here and some mudras there…
a smattering of French radio sounds and dialogue mixed with English...a
thin thread of an ancient Sanskrit play just to give it the spice of the
Orient. In the two hours I spent at the session, the French costume designer
was the most original element in the production. True to form, it was her
sections in the performance with the pink tulle costume, the white swan
hoops and Gautier-Madonna gold breasts that lifted this otherwise tedious
show. Pointed breasts on a swan? I loved it but the audience clearly did
not. They did respond warmly with a tinkling of applause during the alleged
'fight' between the two female dancers in the wonderful swirl of bright
pink petals.
In his article, BK confesses that THE ABSENT LOVER was a 'difficult'
show. And then proceeds to speak about abstraction and the Indian mind's
ability to assimilate and absorb dichotomies and paradoxes, He mentions
Kolams as abstract sacred spaces and of course does not forget to mention
the 'lingam.' Where is the abstraction in the lingam, I ask? It is a clear
celebration and acknowledgement of the sensual alongside the sacred when
Christian values wagged fingers at us brown heathens. BK - we have heard
those statements from Occidentals before. Try some new metaphors for a
change!
Citing Shelley, Kandinsky, Gombrich and Henry Mooore, the article then
tries to hang on these names for some shred of legitimacy. "The artist
is now a liberator," BK continues, like trying to find out what the stone
wants before sculpting it into a form. That is what our own sculptors,
the temple Stapathis believe in. They look at a stone and instantly know
what kind of deity will spring from it. BK speaks of "the active participation
of the viewer." BK - all your passionate pleadings about "exciting lighting
effects, music, costumes and of course some spectacular choreography" got
lost in the darkness of the forest. THE ABSENT LOVER was too long, too
obscure and too boring. No amount of dance, choreography, lighting and
music could lift us out of the deep well of ennui. There was little for
the audience to participate in. Did you ever think about that?
Preeti, your wife, is a star in the making. She is lovely, talented
and wonderful to watch. She is also savvy, determined and tenacious. However,
in her eagerness to become a star, she miscalculated about giving her hometown
audience a segue into the work. "Don't spoonfeed" she may have told you
while applying her make up, but she then proceeded to befuddle us all on
stage. We were left searching for structure, form, substance, variations,
choreographic intent? You, BK, just allude to the work as 'difficult.'
Did you even think that it may have been 'difficult' for the audience to
just sit through the evening?
You comment about the audiences getting up and walking out during the
performance, "rather rudely allowing the doors to bang behind them as they
went." That is for the builders of the auditorium to take note of, not
the audience who must have been tired by what they saw. Any other audience
from another Indian city would have booed the actors and walked out in
the first 30 minutes. I have seen it happen in Kolkata and New Delhi.
For your information, Chennai audiences are not just polite but also
knowledgeable and caring. They come to performances to watch and perhaps
learn and be moved. They are not distracted society birds flitting from
one engagement to another.
While THE ABSENT LOVER continued to get entangled within the dense forest,
the general comment from friends and well wishers at the end was that this
was Preeti's first large scale production and perhaps she needs more time
to develop a mature vision. I too wanted to focus on the few rare and interesting
moments but your smug arrogance in the article could not be accepted in
silence.
Any work of art can fail or succeed on a particular day. What has prompted
this response is not the work itself, but the condescending attempt at
trying to tell readers of THE HINDU that actually, we the Chennai audience,
did not quite 'get' your wife's hard work. The bloody nerve! Banging doors
is the most polite of responses I can think of. Did you not hear the slapping
sound of the seats that flip back up when people stood up to leave?
No amount of trying to explain the work through an article in a national
newspaper can make up for the fact that THE ABSENT LOVER was almost completely
absent of any energy and sparkle on its world premiere.
I am disappointed with THE HINDU for falling prey to such manipulations
just because it came from someone as articulate or convincing as BK. By
publishing what should have been a letter to the editor as a major article,
the newspaper has damaged its credibility while inviting more ill will
to an already fractured dance community where contemporary dialogue is
struggling for acceptance. The danger of this kind of collusion will result
in three newspaper clippings circulating around the world to 'prove' that
the show was really a tremendous success and how Chennai audiences are
really not ready for anything post modern or new. A classic case of lies
that, when told often enough, become myth=legend=truth.
I cannot imagine THE NEW YORK TIMES or THE VILLAGE VOICE ever allowing
BK's voice to be heard in that tone if New York audiences responded in
a similar fashion. Of course not! But here in India, anything goes. 60
years of independence and we still seem to behave in a servile manner!
During a recent house full performance of one of my "difficult" solos
in Bangkok, the large audience was very appreciative but the European reviewer
was dismissive. I did not even consider writing to the BANGKOK NATION in
my "defence of the difficult." The festival organizers were so upset with
the review that they suggested that I respond but I refused. Any work soars
or crashes on a particular day. Art too is viewed through a personal and
subjective prism. In this instance, it was a bad review to what was, I
thought, a successful show. In the case of THE ABSENT LOVER, the kind review
did not reflect the mood of the audience or the quality of the work on
that day.
What works in Europe or the US does not necessarily need to work in
India. And why should it? Preeti and you may have different views and your
gaze may be fixed on audiences in the West. Then, please don't torment
us with such stuff and don't complain.
I continue to hope that Preeti will work on the show, refine and tighten
this production before its national and international tour next year. The
world premiere could have been one of those OFF DAYS for the cast when
that special alchemy does not occur. The production received unprecedented
publicity and was presented by a very reputable arts organization, Prakriti
Foundation. The small audience that evening was the cream of Chennai society
and poor manners is NOT what they are known for. If the work forced them
to leave early, it is a reflection of what they saw on stage.
As an artiste, Preeti has the freedom to make her choices and live by
them. She does NOT need you to plead her case. She also needs to know what
it is to fail, which is what happened on that particular day. So what?
That is what live performance is all about! Have you not heard that failure
is the stepping stone to success? Through this one article you have antagonized
more artistes and potential well wishers than you can ever imagine.
BK - if you want to really help THE ABSENT LOVER, stop whining and convince
Preeti to hire a dramaturg/director immediately! Come back and give us
a show that we can cheer, laugh, cry and be amazed at! If not, doors will
bang once again!
Anita R Ratnam
The above article represents my views alone and it is a personal response
to the series of events leading up to the above mentioned article. So readers
can get the complete thread of the run up to this article, we have created
links to all the information that appeared in THE HINDU regarding THE ABSENT
LOVER - the preview, the review and Bruno Kavanagh's recent 'response.'
All comments can be sent to: narthakionline@gmail.com
In Defence of the difficult
Article by Bruno Kavanagh that
appeared in The Hindu Feb 15, 2008
http://www.hindu.com/fr/2008/02/15/stories/2008021551600300.htm
Abstract art: Exploring new images.
A few nights ago, in Chennai, I was invited on stage to receive a gift-wrapped
bouquet of flowers from a festival organiser. I was up there, blinking
in the footlights, because my wife, the choreographer Preeti Vasudevan,
had asked her collaborators to join her onstage. It was the curtain-call
for her dance-theatre production, 'The Absent Lover,' and the premiere
had just finished. My role had been to help develop an original script,
loosely based on the Sanskrit play 'Vikramorvashiya' by Kalidasa.
However, as I clutched my gladioli and squinted out at the audience
beyond the stage, there was no doubt that I could sense a certain lack
of enthusiasm. I hope you'll forgive me if I discount the possibility that
this was a reflection of the quality of 'The Absent Lover.' It is a great
show. There are exciting lighting effects, music, costumes and of course,
some spectacular movement, including a violent East-versus-West dance-duel
between a Paris-trained ballerina (Céline Pradeu) and India's own
Preeti Vasudevan in the Bharatanatyam corner. (If you want to know who
wins, you'll have to come to see the show when it returns on tour next
year).
But it's a difficult piece. It is not designed to be easy to understand
(although neither is it, I hope, deliberately obscure). It's not for me
to say whether it succeeds as art, but it naturally aims to do what art,
at its best, can do. That is, offer our audience a path to the Sublime.
Aim of art
It was the poet Shelley who coined the word Sublime to mean the plane
beyond, to which art lovers should aspire to go, and art should aim to
take them. To this end, Shelley urges us to reject easy pleasures in favour
of more difficult ones. This exhortation is based on a powerfully simple
philosophy: some pleasures are better than others, and difficult pleasures
are the best. And most people would have no trouble agreeing that the pleasure
gained from unlocking a difficult line of poetry - whether a Shakespeare
sonnet or a sloka from the Gita - hits us in a deeper spot than a Bollywood
item number.
That's why I was surprised when, at a reception event after the show,
I was approached by a number of Chennai's most sophisticated rasikas and
asked (always with exquisite politeness): 'So what was it about?' After
the third or fourth time, I began to respond with a question of my own:
Why such a hunger for literal meaning? It seemed strange to me, since I
consider an understanding of the abstract to be deep in the Indian psyche.
Here in Chennai the complex kolam patterns to be found on every doorstep
are abstract renderings of nature, harmony, energy fields. The dance-theatre
form of Bharatanatyam presents long sequences of Nritta movement - abstract
motion, with no narrative attached. And yet a skilled performer still manages
to express profound emotion through Aangika abhinaya, the use of the body
alone. So here, I reflected, is a paradox: India embraces and celebrates
abstraction - indeed worships it (think lingam) - and yet many educated
Indians come away somewhat puzzled when confronted by what might be loosely
termed more Western expressions of abstraction.
Indeed, a rasika who had attended our dress rehearsal, and had left
(I presume) somewhat mystified, suggested that a few words before the show
about the plot and symbolism might help to open up the more obscure aspects
of the drama.
I scribbled down some ideas and ventured backstage to Preeti as she
was putting on her make-up. "No way," I was told, forcefully. This kind
of spoon-feeding would be against all the principles of art that have evolved
over the last 100 years.
So what exactly are these principles? It was Vassily Kandinsky who first
did away entirely with representational subject matter in his exquisite
'Improvisations and Compositions of 1910.' After this, the change was swift.
Painters stopped trying to do the job of representing other things (after
all, the new science of photography was more than equal to this task) and
began a different quest: to create things in themselves. Paintings quickly
came to be about the process of painting, or the nature of paint. Music
was about the notes. Sculpture, in turn, was about the stone, or the bronze.
E.H.Gombrich describes the sculptor Henry Moore as letting things appear
trying to find out what the stone wanted. The artist is a now a liberator
and a cultivator, nurturing and allowing a thing - the work itself - to
come into being.
Any work produced in this manner cannot have meaning without active
participation from the viewer.
The viewer (or reader or listener, since these principles apply to art
in any form) is drawn into the process of creation. If you don't want to
participate, you can always leave (and indeed, a number of people chose
to do just this during our performance, rather rudely allowing the doors
to bang behind them as they went). It's not easy. We are groping here for
what it means to be a human being.
Human life, much of it, is played out beyond the surface, beyond the
reach of purposeful thought. It is on these planes, unseen by us and unknown,
that we are defined as human beings.
Images that are too easily recognisable create mental barriers to the
magical process of accessing this Sublime mode (to re-use Shelley's word).
With too much literal meaning in the way, we can become caught up in the
superficial, insignificant signifiers. These are the small meanings that
belong to the everyday plane, not the exalted one. Art, if it's good enough,
can get you there. It's certainly not for me to judge whether 'The Absent
Lover' has this alchemical power or not. But art appreciation is a two-way
deal. If you don't want to participate, then I suggest you reconsider.
And if you really don't want to then please don't let the door bang shut
behind you as you leave.
(Bruno Kavanagh, originally from London, is a writer and entrepreneur
in the field of on-line education. He currently lives between Chennai and
New York with his wife the choreographer and performer Preeti Vasudevan.
Together, they have recently published an on-line guide to Bharatanatyam
called Dancing for the Gods. www.dancingforthegods.org)
BRUNO KAVANAGH |