There's no such thing as the January doldrums around here, because South India's "festive season" continues right past New Year's Day and into the harvest festival of Pongal (and here).
The Consulate community had a big Pongal party at the CG residence last week (photos of that to come), and we're planning to take the kids to Mylapore tomorrow afternoon to see the kolam competition and street festival around the Kapaleeshwarar Temple (and here).
John and I got a preview of the festival tonight when we went to see one of his co-workers perform in a Mohiniyattam dance recital. Mohiniyattam (and here) is a classical dance that originated in Kerala, Tamil Nadu's neighboring state.
I had never seen Mohiniyattam before, because Tamil Nadu is simply obsessed with Bharatanatyam (and here), the classical dance form that originated here. Every good little South Indian girl learns Bharatanatyam. It's sort of like ballet in Russia, I suppose. We were lucky enough to see some Bharatanatyam dancers perform at the ancient Chola temple in Thanjavur, the very temple in which the dance originated, but more on that in a later post. Now you're curious, aren't you ... heh, heh.
Back to the dancing at hand. Mohiniyattam is performed to live Carnatic music. Performers are easy to find in Chennai, because this is the world's center for the art form. There's a month-long Carnatic music festival here every December, and people come from all over the world for it.
Tonight's performers used three different kinds of drums, violin, voice, and of course the ever-present drone, which sounds a constant, underlying pitch. (If that makes no sense, you'll have to ask John for clarification, because I'm not sure I understand it either.) Notice that the violin is played from the chest instead of at the shoulder as it is in Western music.
One thing I love about Carnatic music is the interaction between the performers. In every concert I've seen (admittedly not many), the artists show appreciation for each other by tapping each other on the leg or arm or by swaying to the music or even by commenting right in the middle of the performance. The audience will also sway or bobble their heads or slap their legs with the music.
John's co-worker Suja is the dancer on the far right. All Mohiniyattam costumes are essentially the same, because they're religious symbols.
The Indian classical dances are all rooted in Hindu temple rituals. Dance is especially important in South India because it's a symbol of Nataraja, or Shiva as the Cosmic Dancer. I've heard it explained that Shiva destroys the old universe with one dance, assists in creation of the new with another dance, and keeps the universe going with yet another rhythmic dance.
The dance is storytelling, too, with the dancers using symbolic poses, hand gestures and facial expressions to act out the tale.
The dancers had bells on their ankles, so the dance became part of the music.
Here are John and three other co-workers with Suja after the recital.
Beautiful, no?
The Consulate community had a big Pongal party at the CG residence last week (photos of that to come), and we're planning to take the kids to Mylapore tomorrow afternoon to see the kolam competition and street festival around the Kapaleeshwarar Temple (and here).
John and I got a preview of the festival tonight when we went to see one of his co-workers perform in a Mohiniyattam dance recital. Mohiniyattam (and here) is a classical dance that originated in Kerala, Tamil Nadu's neighboring state.
I had never seen Mohiniyattam before, because Tamil Nadu is simply obsessed with Bharatanatyam (and here), the classical dance form that originated here. Every good little South Indian girl learns Bharatanatyam. It's sort of like ballet in Russia, I suppose. We were lucky enough to see some Bharatanatyam dancers perform at the ancient Chola temple in Thanjavur, the very temple in which the dance originated, but more on that in a later post. Now you're curious, aren't you ... heh, heh.
Back to the dancing at hand. Mohiniyattam is performed to live Carnatic music. Performers are easy to find in Chennai, because this is the world's center for the art form. There's a month-long Carnatic music festival here every December, and people come from all over the world for it.
Tonight's performers used three different kinds of drums, violin, voice, and of course the ever-present drone, which sounds a constant, underlying pitch. (If that makes no sense, you'll have to ask John for clarification, because I'm not sure I understand it either.) Notice that the violin is played from the chest instead of at the shoulder as it is in Western music.
One thing I love about Carnatic music is the interaction between the performers. In every concert I've seen (admittedly not many), the artists show appreciation for each other by tapping each other on the leg or arm or by swaying to the music or even by commenting right in the middle of the performance. The audience will also sway or bobble their heads or slap their legs with the music.
John's co-worker Suja is the dancer on the far right. All Mohiniyattam costumes are essentially the same, because they're religious symbols.
The Indian classical dances are all rooted in Hindu temple rituals. Dance is especially important in South India because it's a symbol of Nataraja, or Shiva as the Cosmic Dancer. I've heard it explained that Shiva destroys the old universe with one dance, assists in creation of the new with another dance, and keeps the universe going with yet another rhythmic dance.
The dance is storytelling, too, with the dancers using symbolic poses, hand gestures and facial expressions to act out the tale.
The dancers had bells on their ankles, so the dance became part of the music.
Here are John and three other co-workers with Suja after the recital.
Beautiful, no?
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