The shining dawn of virtuosity and charm

Bharatanatyam Arengetram of Hariraam Tingyuan Lam
The Temple of Fine Arts
Panggung Bandaraya Kuala Lumpur
31 May 2009

Dance is a frustrating art. As the artist grows older and develops subtlety and maturity, the body, the instrument of the art, decays and betrays. Particular feats of gruelling physical demand may only be possible in the artist’s callow youth, and never again. For most of the life of the artist and his or her audience, those short golden moments will survive only as memories.

So it’s exciting to catch a young person in one of these sublimely physically challenging moments, while being certain that you are also witnessing a potentially great artist on the cusp of his career. The bharatanatyam arengetram, the solo debut, of Hariraam Tingyuan Lam was one of these occasions.

As the eldest child of Temple of Fine Arts bharatanatyam guru Geetha Shankaran-Lam and her musician husband Lam Ghooi-Ket, you might think that such a child is naturally destined for greatness. But think of the pressure! Not only was Hariraam required to satisfy his parents’ artistic sensibilities, but also to prove to the world the worth of his parents’ (to some, unorthodox) union. In the latter, at least, Hariraam is not alone – he joins the ranks of great Chindian classical Indian dancers which include January Low and Mavin Khoo.

Far from sinking under pressure, Hariraam rose to the occasion, and then sailed blithely over the top of all expectation. The seven compulsory works included in an arengetram are not to be attempted by the faint of heart, and Hariraam is clearly no slouch – his selections of work were both challenging and unusual. In the first half, his unusual musicality and technical ability came to the fore. His body, attenuated by the intense cardiovascular demands of the arengetram, was grounded and powerful. His lines and pathways were exact, almost mathematical – here describing a perfect circle with the rotation of his arm from the shoulder, there aligning his limbs in the most exacting angles. His leaps were bouyant, but his stamps trenchant. He could stop turning on a dime, freezing in the perfect position. His rock-like balances on one-leg had the audience applauding. And his timing with the complicated rhythms impressed even the connoisseurs.

If during the first half Hariraam seemed a little brittle in his technical bravado, one could attribute this to the indestructible hubris of a teenage boy. In the more expressive and narrative items of the second half of the evening, his charm trumped his virtuosity. While he appeared perfectly appropriate in the guise of the Gods, his dramatic ability really came to the fore with the less heroic characters. In his portrayal of Krishna’s somewhat snivelling friend, or the Lord Muruga disguising himself as a an old man begging for food, or Krishna’s harassed mother multitasking while doting on her baby boy, Hariraam showed a naturalistic style, a great sense of humour, and a keen eye for the subtle characterisations of human beings. His animal scenes were just as good – he put his somewhat wicked teeth to good use as Narasimha, Vishnu’s half-man half-lion avatar, and his puff-faced wide-eyed portrayal of Hanuman had me absolutely beguiled. His ability to cleanly transition from character to character in the space of a second maintained a clear narrative flow. And in spite of being a little off his legs, as dancers say, which could very well be due to enormous physical fatigue, his sense of timing was still exquisite.

Everyone who was there was certain they were witnessing the unleashing of a great artistic force upon the world. Strangely, there was no standing ovation, but perhaps it is because we were saving our applause and waiting to see what Hariraam does next. This, I think, is the most difficult part in an artist’s journey – how to follow a great success? The path to arengetram, with the assistance of dedicated gurus, is difficult, but at least it is clear. After that, things get more complicated. But if I were Hariraam, after such a performance I would think myself entitled to retire into a cave somewhere to play my violin … at least for a little while.

Many thanks to Rathimalar Govindarajoo for her thoughts on Hariraam’s performance.