Garbh

It was a lovely surprise discovering an entrancing and soulful dance performance on a sunny Sunday afternoon in Richmond’s Little Green.

As the Indian music kicked off and dancers began taking their positions, there was an air of expectancy with passerby’s curiosity aroused. Without any posters proclaiming names of the dance group, the genre of dance nor a brief description of the performance we were going in blind. Other than one banner which said 'Richmond Festival of Arts and Ideas' there was nothing that indicated what one might see. So, we were all set to be surprised. 

There was a line-up of Indian dancers a fair distance swaying to the music as they approached the stage, set up as a circular pit with mounds of sand. A little further beyond this arena there was a round tray with seven clay pots. I wondered whether this was a nod to rituals from Indian festivals and if this was to be a performance celebrating Indian heritage. 

The incoming line of dancers showed welcoming and celebratory movements. Their mellow yellow outfits stood out and yet blended harmoniously with the splendid green backdrop lit up with blue skies. The music and dancers were inviting. It was a gentle seduction as cool as a summer’s breeze. Onlookers began to join the line weaving circles in the green. Moving to music has no barriers. It beckons bodies, breaks boundaries. No costumes needed, just have fun. 

The dancers in this introductory piece seemed to say thank you for being with us. It worked well in engaging the audience, and in its message of harmony in communities. 

Then the main event began with a solemn opening scene of two corpses being carried in and placed by the dancers on the ground. The principal dancers took centre stage while those in the mellow yellow formed an outer ring swaying. For someone who had little exposure to South Asian dance performance, this was more ballet than Bollywood. The storyline of life, death, and rebirth with a strong central matriarchal figure, had shades of a Greek Tragedy. The swaying and mourning showed great strength and control. A large clay urn was carried and placed in the centre of the arena and worshipped. Strength seemed to have emanated from the urn. I later learned that it is called a 'Garbha Deep’ (a lamp inside a perforated earthen pot). The light inside the pot symbolises the embryonic life. It also signifies value of knowledge (light), as opposed to the darkness.

The dancers showed astonishing artistry and skill in shaping the release of the soul in slow and trancelike movements. There was a change of pace as the dancers were energised spiritually. The spinning bodies and swirling skirts mesmerised onlookers. The audience had grown visibly by now. The spraying of sand was matched to perfection by a gentle breeze that lifted the grains of sand. The dark green backdrop of trees made each grain of sand visible when it danced through the air. The earthy tones of costumes harmonised beautifully with the terracotta pots, the sand, and all the natural colours in the Green. The Gods had conspired to bring the best of Indian artistry to Richmond.

The performance concluded with the traditional round of applause and acknowledgement of the artistic director and producer. A round of applause from the performers for the audience too could be a nice touch! In a free open-air performance, it’s so easy for onlookers to walk away. 

The final word is a thank you to the Festival organisers, the performers, and all involved for giving us this fabulous experience.

Anita Chanda is a visual artist who received a distinction in MA Art and Science. She won the UAL/Clifford Chance Sculpture Award in 2023. Her colourful installations connect diverse audiences on themes of change and renewal.

CREDITS 

Dancers: Marta Beccatini, Meera Patel, Anaya Vasudha, Shahnal Shah, Mira Salat, Shyam Dattani, Sundhiya Dattani, Anjali Tanna (R&D)
Choreography: Shyam Dattani and Mira Salat with the dancers.
Choreographic Mentor: Urja Desai Thakore, Pagrav Dance Company
Dramaturgy: Parbati Chaudhuri
Set Design: Simon Daw