FringeNYC 2013: Shyama - The Legend of Krishna

Review by Amy Lee Pearsall · August 10, 2013

In many cultures—perhaps none more so than in India—dance is not merely an art form; it is an act of prayer. To behold the work of dancer/choreographer Ramya Ramnarayan and the Nrithyanjali ensemble in Shyama – The Legend of Krishna, currently showing as part of the New York International Fringe Festival, is to bear witness to a joyous offering of both devotion and narrative through performance.

Ramnaranyan—recipient of some of the highest honors conferred upon a performing artist in India—is a master in the ancient, interpretive dance form of Bharathanatyam. Technically demanding and influenced by myth, legend, and poetry, Bharathanatyam requires powerful stomping in complex rhythms with bare feet. Extraordinary attention is paid to the lines of the body, facial expression, and the coordination of the hands and fingers.

The dancers often ground themselves in a half-squat position, and isolation of movement plays a large part in the choreography. Members of the Nrithyanjali ensemble manage to convey volumes with just a slight shimmy of the head, or even a simple eye movement. There is little doubt, however, that the star of the show is Ramnaranyan, and the ensemble gracefully provides her with a much needed break between her solos.

The work in Shyama – The Legend of Krishna is largely inspired by tales of Lord Krishna, incarnation of the supreme Hindu god Vishnu. Among the dances performed in Shyama is “Varnam.” With presence and dexterity, Ramnarayan deftly weaves together various stories of Krishna’s childhood in a ballad of both narrative and nonrepresentational dance. The interplay in this solo work is fascinating to watch.

In darkness before each piece, Ramnaranyan describes the particular influences of the work to follow from offstage using a microphone. The problem here is she is often winded from performing, and some of her words get lost in her breathlessness. At one point, the mic seemed to stop working entirely and she had to come out and directly address the audience. It occurred to me that she might want to consider prerecording her vocal narrative in the future, allowing her to simply focus on the performance itself.

The costumes here are worth mentioning, though the designer is uncredited. Blouses and harem pants with accordion pleating are done in rich sari fabrics laced with gold. As the performers are meant to replicate temple sculpture, they are festooned with golden jewelry, ornate headdresses, and anklets of bells. Hands, feet, and fingertips are all adorned with ceremonial red alta.

The closing ensemble piece, “Mangalam,” is described as a hymn of sorts, depicting the 10 avatars of Vishnu. The joy on each of the performers’ faces was almost palatable, and when the house lights came back on, I realized that I, too, had smiled throughout the entire 75-minute performance. Whatever your personal belief system, I highly recommend Shyama – The Legend of Krishna. As both celebration and offering, it is a feast for the creative spirit.