Waah! Astad!! Waah!!!
PADMASHRI FOR ASTAD DEBOO in 2007
Over the years, I’ve watched ASTAD DEBOO perform. Its been a rare combination of Kathak + Katathakali + the Martha Graham technique + Pina Bausch. Performances with Pink Floyd and the Gundecha Brothers; and collaborations with Ratan J Batliboi, Satyadev Dubey, Sunil Shanbag, Dadi Pudumjee, Pong Chalam Drummers of Manipur, Deaf Students.
Its a good time, to recall a LONGISH conversation Astad had with me; which discussed his approach – and his body of work.
Over to Astad Deboo.
1
For many years I sought treasures
In far-away lands, across the seas in celestial palaces,
Hoping to become a very rich man
For many years I read the Holy Texts, and even Pascal,
Exchanged views with a sage on a hill-top
Hoping to become a very wise man
Until, one day I met a solitary old tree,
Who had grown wise
Accumulating treasures of leaves.
I was initiated into dance education at the age of six in the steel town of Jamshedpur. An age, at which, although, I was unaware of the significance of the great dance tradition in this country, like most precocious children, I was interested in moving twinkle toes. In dazzling my audiences of one and two.
In the mid-sixties I shifted to Mumbai. It meant a cessation of dance, except for the rare dance program in college functions. With a spirit of adolescent anguish, I was confronted by a Murray Louis performance, which was touring India. Louis’ technique and attention to physicality impressed me. It questioned the basic foundations of dance history. That performance was proposing a theory called “decentralisation.” Decentralisation held that in depersonalising dancers through costume and design they could be liberated from their own forms. For Louis, this decentralisation cut through the very foundation of dance. Key to this idea was the use of multimedia effects such as experimental sound and projected light. Using sound collage and changing images projected onto both the stage and the dancers, the choreographer could shift the focus away from any one individual dancer, and concentrate on the overall effect of the production.
After the performance, I returned home and stood before my favourite most mirror, and stretched my body like the American dancers.
I was relished this totally new form of dance and movement, and when I tried it out at home I found my body responded readily. I knew what I wanted to do. I was bored out of my mind doing economics – this was the new direction I was looking for.
I was free.
2.
Everyday, I devour my meal:
Of wheat and millet, along with organic plants and spices
Which praise the earth
For generating invaluable fortunes
Which one day, I vow to return to
Her.
The next two years, were spent in introspection, and interrogation of the self. Thanks to Uttara Asha Coorlavala, I heard of Martha Grahams and her ever-enveloping authority in the world of modern dance. For me, the legend of Martha Graham, long ago became fact, just as her utterly personal technique has become part of the common vocabulary of dancers everywhere. “The centre of the stage is where I am,” she once said. It still is.
I was at crossroads. Having studied Kathak dance under Guru Prahlad Das, from age eight to 16, I had to take that big leap. After contemplation and careful consideration, I resolved to simultaneously work with a multitude of forms, both Indian Classical and modern dance.
After graduating from the University of Bombay, I travelled extensively across Europe to nurture, “the seed of dance that was planted”.
The summer of 1969, I hitchhiked my way to Europe. It was the wild sixties, and this was the thing to do. Adventure was planted in the head. I had to leave the shore. My game-plan plan was to use Europe as a springboard to America where I dreamt of taking classes in the Martha Graham technique. I dabbled in my share of idiocy. Ate a sumptuous meal in a restaurant and ran away without paying my cheque, performed a 30 minute show on Tehran TV for a bit of finance, at the drop-of-the-hat I would dance in people’s homes, pubs, streets.
Herein one must digress and report an encounter Astad had with Sunil Shanbag’s theatre group, Arpana in 1987. As Sunil Shanbag, theatre director and producer states:
“There was talk about a possible collaborative performance between a musician and Astad. On cue, Astad was interested, and it was thought if Brij Narain, the sarodist, with whom the group had done some work earlier could be the musician. Like most classical musicians, Brij was cautious. He’d only heard of Astad’s work in an oblique way. A meeting was arranged at Brij’s home.
“Once there, Astad asked for a recording Of Brij Narain’s music. An audiocassette was produced. It was a scratchy recording of a concert, but as soon as Astad heard the first notes, he went into a crouch and began to respond intuitively. The small room was cramped with furniture, and Astad tried to transform it into a performance space. Every inch of available space was used, with whirling arms and legs inches away from our faces. A dhurie lying rolled up in a corner became a prop, an extension of the body, a straight-backed chair added unusual angles as it stood on one leg, and a door opened and closed in counterpoint to the rhythm of the tabla.
“At the end of this little demo the sarod maestro stood up and embraced Astad. He said: “This is the room where I teach my students. I use it every day. But today it is as though I am seeing it for the first time.”
Yes, I remember the incident. In fact I did a collaborative performance with Sunil Shanbag’s actors, who were not trained dancers. There was an open-air show at the Elephanta Dance Festival, Mumbai. Such incandescence of space was possible with dance techniques.
This was the similarity with my hitchhiking. I tried to cross borders, jump over boundaries, and not be bogged down. I exchanged tips with fellow bag-packers, gatecrashed into museums, interacted with locals and understood the idiosyncrasy of towns, districts. My thumb-rule was simple: the journey had to be fascinating.
Once in England, my plans collapsed, since a visa to the USA was not forthcoming. And so, I began travelling extensively, taking classes where I could, and investing considerable time in Japan, wherein I got a close look at the traditional dance theatres of Kabuki. I allowed myself to be lowered from a tall crane into vats of colour and then onto a large white cloth on which I danced-out a painting!
My first long exposure to the wider world of dance and art happenings was heady. When I returned to India, I was eager. For most in the audience, the idea of dance was new, and so I used straightforward narratives. I tried to create sparse and beautiful designs. I replaced flat backdrops with three-dimensional objects. I tried to contribute to the art of stage design and dance production. But ultimately I was hoping for a continued experimentation, by focussing my constant attention to human emotion, frailty, and perseverance. This was a running theme in my early work. In RITUAL, I was lowered into a circle of burning candles, and I proceeded to drip molten wax onto my body. In ASYLUM, I was a schizophrenic who sucked on his big toe imagining it was my baby. In BROKEN PANE, I stuck a syringe into my arm and then pounded my forehead on the stage floor in a drug-induced frenzy. The depiction of emotion was very raw … bloody.
I feel, the present representation of classical Indian is over-concerned with flow and grace. It has forgotten the more violent traditional passions. I felt, through the spastic movements, tremblings, and falls I could express emotional and spiritual themes ignored by other dance. I desired to evoke strong emotions, and achieved these visceral responses through the repetition of explicitly, violently disjunctive movements.
May be this world is another planet’s hell.
And then, away from the murky, gloomy world we inhabit, there is this yearning, someplace-somewhere to slip into quietness. That is, much-more measured, deliberate and non-figurative. Keep stretching the horizon, a little further, every time.
Even today, dance remains a driving passion and in spite of all the pitfalls one is constantly attempting to grow.
3.
I had no place I could call my home
I was a citizen of the world
I had no address
I was a visitor on this planet
And I was merely passing through
In the hope that I would befriend someone, anyone
On this trip.
I hitchhiked my way across Europe. When I returned to India in 1972, I studied Kathakali under Guru E K Pannicker. This was followed by “sell-out” shows the world-over at major international dance festivals which included the notable choreography of Maia Plisseskaia; performances with Pink Floyd; and collaborations with Ratan J Batliboi, Suresh Bhojwani, Satyadev Dubey, Sunil Shanbag, Dadi Pudumjee, Pong Chalam Drummers of Manipur along with performances, workshops, lectures all of which has added to my body of work.
Through the Max Mueller in Mumbai, I was introduced to Pina Bausch. She saw me perform. On cue, I was at the Wuppertal Dance Company, Germany. It’s difficult to think of another European dance artist who has continued throughout her career to be both as influential and as controversial as the German choreographer Pina Bausch. Her sensibility is firmly European in the visions of a dark, brooding and tension-filled world her theatre depicts. It is said, long before the British sculptor Damion Hurst was displaying butchered animals preserved in formaldehyde, Bausch was pioneering something close to the dance equivalent, the body under physical and emotional assault suspended in time and space by the framing device of the stage. Physically, Bausch’s dances are highly visual and textural, as much as spectacles, and this adds to their visceral impact.
For me those few weeks, were high on kinetic energy, but it didn’t work out. Basically, there were two problems. She wanted to base some of her work on loose borrowings from Kathakali. I was resolute that I wouldn’t do such a thing. My argument being, that although I’m Indian, I’ll add my little flourishes and gestures. She didn’t like it. She said: “You can stay and observe but you’re not part of the team.”
This meant another uprooting for me. This has been my modus operandi. Whenever things get comfortable, I reject it, and hurl myself with renewed verve & vitality into a new situation.
Always, an uncertain tomorrow … everything is very tenuous.
I’m weary of prosceniums. Of the traditional stage which reduces all formations to frontal viewing. I tried to unshackle myself from the narrow walls of domesticity. Which is why, I’ve always been open to performing site-specific works. Be it: Champaner, Chandigarh, and a Chettinad home in Chennai. And even the famous dance performance on The Great Wall of China. That was simple. A friend and me had a portable music system, a few props, and my costume. We would walk. Identify a performance-site. Ready ourselves and perform. This went for a few hours. The audiences were receptive and the feedback was super.
The point is, in my work of dance, I use totally new or at best take parts of our existing vocabulary of Indian classical dance and combine it with other forms. Such a thing is viewed with scepticism. Although, herein, its interesting to note that when I began my work I did very story-like narratives. That way I created an audience. Much later, I grew bolder. I introduced the “abstract” element and experimented with music, with puppets, with themes.
In my work at the National Gallery of Modern Art, FIVE MINUS THREE (AUDIENCE ON TWO LEVELS), I used the over-elaborate space and got the audience to follow the performance. Horizontally and vertically. There were other worthy of note performances at the St Xavier’s college courtyard, CST Railway Station and a whole assortment of festivals in Norway, Brazil, France. Similarly, I presented a sketch in the mid-eighties for which Ratan J Batliboi designed a box with open slots. Due to this, the whole was never visible. Just fragmented viewing. A wrist, an ankle, the chest. It was a constant shift between the seen and unseen. Rajani and Tamas. It was an attempt questioning distortions in perspective.
What you see is not necessarily what you get.
Later, I made a journey with abstract geometric forms and spare structures, my works like ZONTAS (about an astronaut going into space) and THANATOMORPHIA can stun with their fusion of strict form and deep emotion. Simplicity masks complexity. In times such as ours, it is difficult to create a work, which is delicate, immaculate. Obviously, such an endeavour has untold risks. Inadvertently there’s the intrusion of unevenness, of flashiness. One tries to be quiet, introspective, inward looking and meditative.
When an artist is able to share that quality with the audience, it is dreamlike.
4.
What the prudent old man told me in my sleep!
Remember: The tranquillity which surrounded Beethoven’s head
Was not the end
It was the beginning of music
Aldous Huxley has said: After silence that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
For me, what Huxley says is true. I’ve always been attracted to the sound of things. I’ve diligently attended music concerts from Hindustani classical to opera, to new age to street musicians. I’m a big collector of music. I’ve friends all over the world who have been kind and supportive. A music composer in Berlin runs an alternative music store. This gives me the opportunity to partake of all kinds of world music.
Just as dance can be made of every day gestures, music can be minimal. With me, music has been everything. The centre of attraction, sometimes supplementary, sometimes silence.
Here I must mention my collaboration (and friendship) with the Gundecha Brothers, who are the purest exponent of Dhrupad gayaki, today. Uptil then, Hindustani Classical was never an integral part of my conceptualisation. That was because I had neither context nor reference point. Furthermore, I was not keen to use it, merely because the sitar or the tabla was the in-thing. I found the alaaps too long; and the traditionalists were mortified whenever I had chopped of bits.
That was the time I heard a recital by the Gundecha Brothers in Bhopal. I was very moved. I made my introduction, and broached the possibility of working together. They were still with their Guru. So, we did a work-session on a trial, as a work-in-progress kind of thing. You must bear in mind; that the Gundecha Brothers had not confronted my type of dance and movement, earlier.
Soon enough, I was invited to perform at the Khajurao Dance Festival. I was very serious about it. On Satyadev Dubey’s advise, I performed Muktibodh’s LAKDI KA RAVANA. I had stanzas from the poem read-out. The Gundecha Brothers sang. And I danced. It was a genuine collaboration.
I made a theatrical entry. This was post-Rajeev Gandhi. So, we had a lal-batti wallah official car. My back-stage team was converted into Black Cats with their AK-47s. I strutted with the customary fan-fare, one associates with a mantri. On stage, I oozed with self-importance and vanity, even as I methodically started disrobing an assortment of garments, which symbolised the tiers in our society.
And there were others.
I worked in England in Winchester at King Alfred’s College with a music composer, Francis Silkstone who composed music for the very well known myth Orpheus and Eurydice. In this piece, which was called CRYING ORPHEUS and was about Orpheus is on trial after he has lost Eurydice in the underworld. The dance was accompanied by the singing of Amelia Cuni. She’s an Italian singer, who is trained in the Dhrupad School under the Malliks. Then there was the late Brazilian singer Louis Gonzagiana Jr, who died in a car crash. He sang, I danced.
And there were others.
Percussionists from Africa, Europe, Cuba, Brazil. I’ve have jammed with Peter Hammel, Germany for the Festival of Vienna. This was under the directorship of Reinhart Flatischer. I treasure the work with the Indian virtuosos, Shobha Mudgal, Uday Bhavalkar, Zakir Hussain, Sivamani, Louis Banks. In China, I closed my act with a piece of bravado. This would be an improvised piece wherein I would perform with a Chinese musician. It could be a classical or folk musician; he could be a singer or instrumentalist. I took the plunge into the unknown, with the “unknown” musician. The audience were flabbergasted. More so, when they realised that the piece was totally unrehearsed. At times, I met the musician for the first time on the stage, in front of the audience. The whole experience was luminous.
It was trouble-free. I followed a simple axiom: Remember, the wise man makes more opportunities than he finds.
5.
Every time my friends ask me for the road into the sea
I show them a path
But they don’t see it.
Maybe they don’t want to…
Or maybe they cannot sense the goodness of the waves
From the distant shore
For two decades, I’ve worked as a solo performer. I still perform solo works but there came a time when I felt that in the scenario of the Indian performing scene, was a little more amenable and receptive. I collaborated with Dadi Padamjee and his Puppets, and later, the Gundecha brothers. I’ve always been ardent supporter of performing arts. I’d seen the thang ta martial art form 20 years ago. But I was keenly aware that such a work would need resources and a stretch of time. I was commissioned for a project and they wanted something different. Since I had a working idea, so I travelled to Imphal and met Guru Devabrata Singh, who is the guru of the Hula Group. I sought his permission.
I was mesmerised by the form of the Hula and their thang-ta (sword-spear) technique. In implicit manners, I could relate it to my form and me. They were open to trial and tests. I’ve used their technique. While collaborating and working with my four Hula boys, I’ve always bounced-off ideas and used the collaborators’ technique. Adding a bit of mine, use their basic idiom.
The work has grown. Now, it is CELEBRATIONS.
My interest in working with challenged communities led to my work with the Calcutta-based Action Players, a group of deaf theatre-actors. My first encounter with them is fresh in my memory. They were a group of talented actors silently resolved to taking up the challenge of dance. I’ve worked and workshopped with them. These sessions attempted to focus attention on synchronisation, familiarising with different spaces, and mirror exercises for reflexes. The Action Players (like the deaf groups I worked with in Mexico and Hong Kong) had to approach these sessions with a deep sense of commitment and respect. This was a theatre group of non-dancers that had to be moulded into nimble and snazzy dancers. The arduous journey had begun.
Because of my work with the Action Players, I was invited by the Gallaudet University, USA (which is perhaps the world’s first university for the deaf), with the aim of expanding the scope of the work and exploring the possibility of bringing the hearing impaired communities of both countries together in a festive atmosphere of sharing.
A breakthrough was achieved during the Young Scholar’s Programme in Washington. The subject was: India. So I did a basic exposure of Indian dance theatre, field trips in Washington wherein they visited a Hindu temple; a pooja exhibition at Smithsonian; called-on an Indian home wherein the hostess organised a fashion show. I invited local, Indian dancers who lived in the DC area and demonstrate. In the second phase, the Americans travelled to India and performed and workshopped. In the third phase, the Action Players, 21 in all, travelled to the USA. The idea was, the hearing impaired students, form manifold cultures come together and push the boundaries of express, further and further.
This was a real exchange of dance techniques, and the workability of ideas.
In my first work with the Action Players, THE DANCING DOLPHINS, we explored basic concepts such as space, the possibilities of the body, and physical synchronisation. I was able to tap into the resources of the Action Players for an extended period. They began to internalise dance, and in their exploration of abstract movement and rhythm they communicated with each other as dancers. This was done through an elaborate pattern of counts.
In CIRCLE OF FEELINGS, they have travelled that extra distance due to the intense group work. A journey had begun.
In this sense, I was extremely pleased about the invitation for me for the International festival, Deaf Way II in Washington. This was an invitation, I cherished. To start with more than 8,000 hearing impaired would attend the festival which had attracted more than 2,000 entries, of which Action Players were one of the 20 to be selected.
Somewhere, by performing both in Indian and abroad, I’ve been trying to ensure the notion that ‘there’s no such thing as an ideal dance structure’ be accepted. I’ve tried to make my audiences aware of the physical apparatus and how much can dance make the body more mobile, flexible, expressive and even sensitive among the hearing impaired in India, China, Mexico, USA.
This is one of the reasons; I’ve had easier access to the dancers at Clark School of the Deaf in Chennai. My interaction with R Karthika, who was the best classical dancer in the Chennai group, has only now begun. Her talent and rigorous training in Bharat Natyam, gives her the resources both to be inventively collaborative, and rooted, at the same time.
Today, I hope the FIRST STEP is just that … a first step in a series of such encounters.
A newer creation. An improved array of ideas. Extra melancholic, extra humane.
As that infamous absurdist playwright said: The future is not what it used to be! Quite true, the possibilities are endless.
5
Since
The man
With the calliper
Could not enter the
Sea
And swirl along with
Waves
He sat on the shore
And dreamt about make-believe
Creatures
Who whirled out of the foam
In the dark of night
(As told to Ramu Ramanathan, who has specifically composed the five shorts in appreciation of Astad Deboo’s body of work)
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Wow, Ramu Ramanathan, perfect timing! Coincidentally I had the pleasure to watch Astad Deboo’s Celebration along with the Hula group last week and I must say I was speechless. What a performance! ^:)^ I had never seen anything like that in my life! 8->
Good post sirji…:):)
wow! this is so informative, detailed and descriptive! a lovely read.
Simply wow. Ramu, great post. I love that man and his work. Have met him few times. Asked him once cant we c his art form merging with bollywood dance forms ? He laughed. Said bollywood doesnt invite him. So, he cant do anything. I think so far he has choreographed only 2-3 hindi film songs. The last one was Omkara’s title track….the promotional video…with Ajay Devgan and manipuri artits. Oh,what a visual treat it is.
Phoenixnu, what other Hindi film songs has he choreographed? I agree that promotional video with the Manipuri artists is a treat. I had no idea he had choreographed that! ~X(
Monica, thats the irony. Many talented guys dont get much coverage n people dont know also. Other than Omkara’s title track, he has also choreographed for Husain
Phoenixnu, had I known about that Omkara video before I would have been able to ask him about it during the conference he gave. ~X(
I keep saying I must watch Meenaxi. I will check all the clips from those films, anyway.
Thanks.
very inspiring. i am glad that i got the opportunity to watch Astad Deboo’s work with the deaf sometime back and i was really impressed. do write more about him and his work. thanks