Aakash Odedra’s ‘Songs of the Bulbul’ is a truly remarkable show; a comprehensive exploration of that most ephemeral of things: beauty. Although stories often cut across cultures and time, the symbols storytellers use, are usually significant to their own particular cultures. In the Sufi tradition, the bulbul/nightingale, the bird with the sweetest voice, is an arch symbol of the soul’s attempt to encounter and embrace the divine. The bulbul’s best song is sung when the face of the divine is seen. It is a lover’s song, aching with pain and joy. The physical object of its love, is the rose. In the Odedra production, the stage is strewn with red rose petals, a cascade of blocks form an half circle to the left; both are things of delicacy. And stage right, tempering it all, with a sense of impending danger, are a collation of giant spears.
The show opens with a narrator foreshadowing the dance narrative we are about to see. The bulbul sings to an open sky; it is captured, it sings, and then, its eyes are plucked out, and from its pain, its finest song is born. The narrator links this quest to the artist’s quest; the dancer, who, with each dance, leaves a remnant of himself on stage.
The lights go on and we focus on Odedra’s body, kneeling on the ground, struggling to free itself from the mesh it is caught in.
The dance fusion: of kathak, Bharatnatyam, and modern dance is superb. I’ve seen it done less well by lesser dancers; but Odedra has the growing confidence of Akrham Khan; both men are masters of their craft and both have the courage to rock the boat of tradition. In each dance style, the body is held differently; has a different repertoire of movement. To be able to switch between the three and for the switches to seem seamless is astounding. The virtuosity is Odedra’s; the design is Rani Khanam’s. Her choreography is, throughout, powerful, evocative.
The music and the songs touched me in many ways. But then, my heart belongs to the Sufis.
My favourite dance set was to the traditional Sufi songs of ‘Allah hu/God is’. In this, Odedra dances in more strictly kathak mode, then raising the skirt of his kameez/shirt, he swirls into Turkish dervish mode. He reaches a moment of ecstasy, then the spears fall down, encaging him. He uses his hands, like claws and raises his skirt as if he has wings, trying to escape and then, exhausted with the trying, he gives up. I think the song here was, ‘Yara, mein bhi aa/ Beloved, I’m coming, too’. And then from this, we move to a more Bharatnatyam style of dance with the beat, ‘Sa re ga ma’, which is the equivalent of ‘Do ray me far’.
To the song, ‘Kya kyamat hai/What Doomsday is this’, the music becomes desperate. Odedra flies in big mountain leaps.
When, towards the end, the bulbul is blinded, Odedra stumbles, a cloth over his eyes. In his hands, diyas /small lamps of light. He points to the blocks stage right and only when they light up, do we see that they are lamps. The flow of his hands is like that of a magician’s, like Prospero, playing a game. The dance he dances is delicate, sweeping. The light travels up; there are heavenly chants. The bulbul falls to the ground and smoke curls out of its mouth.
Choreography, dance, music, are all masterful.
I haven’t liked a show so much since I saw and reviewed the wonderful opera ‘Innocence’.
Sadler’s Wells, Stratford East
Songs of the Bulbul
Company: Aakash Odedra
Dancer: Aakash Odedra
Choreographer: Rani Khanam
Music: Rushil Ranjan
Music performed by: The Manchester Camerata
Until 11 July at this venue, then Cambridge Arts. Theatre from July 21st
Photo Angela Grabowska