Akram Khan’s ‘ Desh’ (2011) was one of the best productions of anything ( dance, theatre, opera), I’ve ever seen. The dance itself was superb but so also was the work of Khan’s key collaborators: musical director, animator, lighting designer. I’ve been waiting, all these years, for a Khan production to match the imaginative and skilled virtuosity of that show. Khan’s ‘Jungle Book Re-imagined’ ( 2023), in which, though there were gated moments of joy, and despite Khan’s use, again, of animation, was not that show. Mowgli was, in that production, a Greta Thunberg figure. Kipling’s ‘ The Jungle Book’ is perhaps best now remembered in its superb Disney incarnation (those songs!) than in its original novella form. Kipling’s Oriental politics, his love-hate relationship with India, make much of his work difficult for us to now swallow, but in ‘ The Jungle Book’ at least, the characters are warm, engaging, and there is more love for the jungle (‘ nativeness’) than there is for the town ‘ (´civilisation ‘), despite the fact that that is where Baloo and Bagheera take Mowgli in the end; back to his own. The political narrative in the Khan show was too much on the nose and got, I felt, in the way of the subtlety of the dance. ‘Thikra: Night of Remembering’, Akram Khan Company’s last ever show, is far better than ´Jungle Book Re-imagined ’ but it still does not reach the standard Khan set himself with ‘Desh’.
The brochure says this about the narrative: ‘ The Matriarch, the elder and leader of the gathering returns for one night of exchange. She understands the power of all its elements. Alongside two sisters – one who evokes and the other who serves as a ritualistic vessel- they lead their tribe to summon their ancestor spirit from the Knowledge Rock.’
Not having read the brochure before the show, I knew nothing of this.
The key dancers: in black, red, white and gold, were all superb. They danced a mix of kathak and contemporary dance. The tribe were dressed in dull green saris, like traditional Indian mais/nannies; they mostly danced Bharatnatyam. In the sub-continent, kathak is more identified with Muslims and bharatnatyam with Hindus. Both dance forms tell narratives but in different ways; in Bharatnatyam, there is more fluid hand movements.
‘Thikra’ opens with a buzzing sound which transforms into music. On the stage is a body in white. Centre back stage we see a cave. It begins to glow. From out of the cave emerges a woman, dressed all in black. Thé dancer in black raises the dancer in white. And so, the dance begins.
The cave design, by Manal Al Dowayan, is beautiful, as is the varying use of light on it during the show.
The dancers use their hair, pulling it, thumping it, as a dance formation, recalling the work of the legendary Pina Bausch. But there is always a cultural context in which work is created and understood. In the Western context of the Pina Bausch Company, this hair movement feels radical; here, in the context of a sub-continental company, it often feels, despite the rigour of the movements themselves, like a rage against submission. This has, I think, to do with how women’s hair is, in the sub-continental context ( but also, other traditional societies’ contexts, as well), seen as a sign of a woman’s greatest beauty and that which is hidden from public view.
Other key formations are when Akram uses a ballet line formation ( perhaps most familiar to us from ‘ Swan Lake’) which then transforms into Bharatnatyam. The trope of the puppet master, where one dancer pulls the invisible strings of another dancer and animates them to life, to movement- even though I’ve seen it countless times, still makes me wonder, makes me smile.
I didn’t like the choreography of the tribe. It felt a little stale, as if all thought had been given to the key dancers. This happens on stage, too, when a director directs, for instance, Lear, and leaves everyone else to fend for themselves, but performance – unless a solo performance- has to, I think, be viewed as a montage with all the actors/dancers/singers feeding one another.
The choreography of the main dancers and their dancing was on top form and one is reminded, as with all good and great dance productions, of how wonderful a thing the body is and what shapes of beauty it can make.
The songs in the latter half were lovely and beautifully sung. ‘Aaj hi jaana, zid na karo/ Have to go today, don’t be stubborn’ and ‘Waqt ye yaad mein zindagi…/ In memory of time, life..’ They deserved sur-titles.
Khan is, after twenty five years, closing his company. This is AKC’s last show. It is a pity then, that when his work has climbed such heights, he should end with a production that feels, despite some wondrous choreography and dance, just a little too tired. His company will, however, be missed, for its sheer brilliance on the London stage.
Akram Khan Company
Director & Choreographer Akram Khan
Visual Director / Costume and Scenography Manal AlDowayan
Narrative Concept Manal AlDowayan & Akram Khan
Music Composer & Soundscape Designer Aditya Prakash
Sound Designer Gareth Fry
Lighting Designer Zeynep Kepekli
Creative Associate & Coach Mavin Khoo
Dramaturge Blue Pieta
Dancers Pallavi Anand, Ching-Ying Chien, Kavya Ganesh, Nikita Goile, Samantha Hines, Jyotsna Jagannathan, Mythili Prakash, Azusa Seyama Prioville, Divya Ravi, Aishwarya Raut, Elpida Skourou, Mei Fei Soo, Harshini Sukumaran, Shreema Upadhyaya, Kimberly Yap, Hsin-Hsuan Yu, Jin Young Won
Until 01 November 2025
Photo credit: Camilla Greenwell.