As part of Antara’s effort to situate South Asian
dancing from an aesthetic, historical and social perspective, we carry reviews
and analysis of some of these embodied practices.
This week’s blogpost is by Ajay Cadambi, a graduate
student at the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore who studies biophysics.
His interests include the history of science, temple architecture and dance
history.
Javali, Raga Atana, Roopaka Tala
In 1920, the dedication of women to temple service
was banned. This was directly in response to a nation-wide agitation that
viewed women associated with temples as prostitutes. In Andhra, strangely
enough, the art form of hereditary female performers survived well into the
1950s, in what are referred to as salon performances or mezuvani (from the urdu
word mezban which means host). Contrary to popular belief, the devadasi did not
perform excluslively within the precincts of the temple. Nationalists seem to
want to skew over this fact, in their reconstruction of the history of art
forms like Bharatanatyam which they describe as temple-centric.
Consequently, a large number of hereditary female
perfomers or sanis were disenfranchised and their art form would have
altogether disappeared into oblivion if not for the efforts of a wonderful
woman named Vakkalanka Swapnasundari. With the support of her Kuchipudi guru,
Pasumarthy Sitaramayya, she convinced various illustrious sanis from all the
three major regions of Andhra, viz. Telangana, Rayalaseema and Coastal Andhra
to teach her their art. Important amongst them were Late Maddula
Lakshminarayana, Late Chirutanipuram Pottigari Ranganayaki, Late Saride Anasuya
and Late Golconda Bharathamma. Swapnasundari single handedly resurrected this
art form and brought it to the proscenium stage.
A javali from this
repertoire is presented by one of her students in the link I have pasted
below.
Unabashedly erotic, javalis are
the quintessential marker of salon performances by courtesans. Soneji
notes that “javalis are also signs of the volatile, sexually charged space of
the salon, one that was diametrically opposed to the contained, private sexuality
of the conjugal home." Like their predecessor, the padam, javalis are also
tripartite and contain a pallavi (refrain), anupallavi (a sub-refrain) and
charanams(stanzas). Like the padam, the narrative content of the javali is
subject to multiple interpretations. The unravelling of this layered meaning
through the medium of abhinaya (mime) via the use of hastas(hands) and facial
movements that depict objects and ideas in multiple ways, in accordance with
classical imagery associated with shringara (erotic love) is what would be
expected from a good dancer.
A sani would also be
expected to sing the javali in addition to performing abhinaya to it. The
raga(melody) that the song is set to, the poetic devices used in the lyrics of
the javali , and the tala(rhythm) enable narrative and aesthetic
movement through the text. The narrator of the
javali is almost always a woman and she is mostly in conversation
with a patron, even if the lyrics themselves are directed towards a local
representation of Krishna. The javali is always about the sexual subjectivity
of the individual female performer and it is for this reason that sanis also
talk of the proximities of their own lives to the narrative of the javali.
It is indeed, a rare opportunity to be able to
witness elaborate abhinaya and to witness such a rare composition that is
mostly unknown outside of the sani repertoire. Most of these javalis have not
been documented in textual formats. There is an element of spontaneity in the
performance as well which would be expected of a sani, because abhinaya was
never “choregraphed” per se. The distinctive feature of javali renditions
in coastal Andhra is the gaptu-varusa, or improvised dance sequence, at the
end, which apart from being exquisite in this particular rendition, undeniably
marks the technical and aesthetic continuity of javali renditions in the
courtesan community.
A brief description of the Javali is as follows:
The nayika is married and is trying to ward off the
sexual advances of the hero. She might be doing so because she does not think
highly him. He may not be a refined man for example. Or she may not want to
engage with him because he has approached her at an inopportune moment and she
does not wish to be caught by her husband. The dancer, Pujita Krishna Jyoti
very skilfully portrays both these ideas.
“Expect nothing from me.
If my husband were to know, he
will think me a cheat.
I am not like that lotus-eyed
whore of yours, so these antics won't work.
I know you are only after my jewels, but I am not flattered by how handsome you are.
I know you are only after my jewels, but I am not flattered by how handsome you are.
I can only tell smooth talkers
like you to get lost.
Don't ask for things you can't have (like the moon).
Don't ask for things you can't have (like the moon).
I am appalled that you aren't
even the least bit coy at approaching someone as exquisite as I.
Go away!”
Reference:
- Soneji
Davesh, Unfinished Gestures: Devadasis, Memory and Modernity in South India.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012.
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