CHITRESH DAS.

CHITRESH DAS THE SYLVIA AND DANNY KAYE PLAYHOUSE OCTOBER 22, 1999

Krishna, a lovably scapegrace incarnation of the Hindu god Vishnu, has beguiled audiences for centuries with the heedless charms of an old-fashioned boy. According to legend, he plays the flute. Headstrong, he steals fruit--and kisses. He frolics with milkmaids, and is expected to frolic. Although his kind may have long since vanished from most parts of the earth, whenever an Indian dancer evokes him onstage, Krishna seems timeless.

In their different ways, California-based kathak dancer Chitresh Das and bharata natyam dancer Shobana, who lives and works in Madras, India, both brought him back to life in New York City. Of course, they also did a good deal more than that, for their programs, presented by the World Music Institute, were taken up with much besides.

Das, a recent SF Bay Area NEA grant recipient, in particular seems born to the Krishna role, almost regardless of what he may be dancing. Impetuously quick, not too big, with a face that flashes with childlike zest, as Krishna (or not) he was served brilliantly by tabla drummer Swapan Chaudhuri. The pair, aided by a small musical ensemble, performed as much for each other as for anyone else, in an unusual artistic reunion; each is rarely seen in New York. Das's arms fluttered about him like heavy scarves as he spun in kathak's typical pirouettes. Meanwhile, his feet beat out rhythms echoed by the belts of small bells attached to his shins and calves.

Despite the impromptu feeling of the vigorous jamming between dancer and musician, little seemed random by the time Das performed his witty, enchanting "train" dance, a signature piece. Learned at age nine from his guru, this dance put Das to work and play a cappella. The rhythms spoken by his soles as they slapped the floor storied a train passing through familiar stages of an Indian journey. Das narrated the journey while he pattered.

Seemingly more complex than kathak, bharata natyam's encyclopedic storehouse of codified and customary gestures, positions, and movements demands great technical control from any dancer; yet it also allows for variation in style. Some performers emphasize the spiritual zealotry of the dance, whose early practitioners performed devotionally in Hindu temples. Others, more worldly and human in their bearing, interpret the bharata natyam dancer's role as that of a frank seductress. Shobana, who performed with a corps of four junior dancers as backup, came across instead as a sort of female Krishna--to American eyes, rather like an updated Audrey Hepburn.

This characterization charmed, or occasionally irritated. The dancer's sweetly buoyant, slyly mocking persona tended to dominate the dancing flirtatiously, and sometimes reduced its dynamism, especially rhythmically. Exceptionally long-limbed and beautifully endowed, Shobana floats above the floor more than she sinks into it. Because bharata natyam celebrates rhythmic drive, emphatic weight is often felt in assertive, intricate footwork. Less so here. Instead, Shobana's wafting arms and eloquent fingers twined softly, seizing the attention, as did her darting smiles. Her consistent persona also confined the potential for drama to a pleasant, but slightly mundane, range.

In addition to performing pure-dance compositions, the traditional varnam and thillana, Shobana also danced narrative excerpts from the Nouka Charitram, including episodes from Krishna's life. She played Krishna most winningly, while the corps played the women he played with.