http://www.nytimes.com/2014/09/24/arts/dance/utsav-a-festival-of-indian-dance-and-music.html 2014-09-23 23:54:46 Utsav, a Festival of Indian Dance and Music The Utsav festival at the Kennedy Center featured a venerable exponent of India’s Kathak tradition and a celebrated dancer of the Bharata Natyam style. === WASHINGTON — The three-day celebration of India’s maestros of music and dance, presented under the name Utsav last weekend at the Kennedy Center, was nonpareil. This was a sequel to Utsav’s first edition in 2013; I hope others will follow. I hope, too, that word will spread more widely. Although attendance at the Terrace Theater was very good, the festival seemed to draw largely people of Indian descent. Friday’s and Saturday’s events were musical and featured the artists Jayanthi Kumaresh, Bombay Jayashri and Rahul Sharma; given that a concert in Madurai by Ms. Jayashri was one of the greatest revelations of my 2012 visit to India, I wish I could have attended. Sunday’s two concerts were both dance, featuring The aura of delighted veneration that surrounds Mr. Maharaj, 76, whose bare feet remain juicily nimble, is unlike that for any other dancer today. Not only does he gleefully plunge his audience into the spectacle of his creation of bewilderingly intricate rhythms, but he also embodies both awe and playfulness. He conjures a rhythm vocally, then his musicians capture it, and he dances to it. The playfulness is in the timing — not least in timing the final beat of an intensely coloratura phrase to the music. The Kathak style, which features successions of rapid single turns, can require a physical bravura that he does not now attempt, and yet he remains a virtuoso, dancing principally with feet (amazingly rapid), eyes (merrily and vivaciously rhythmic) and hands (wonderfully relaxed but vivid). The complexity of the meters he illustrates is astounding but also enchanting. Though I have seen him on two previous occasions, on Sunday — often speaking with surprising intimacy to the audience and sometimes close to giggling — he revealed more of the expressive variety within his rhythms. He illustrates the sea and waves, an argument between two people, an alternation between energy and lassitude, and much more. He was devotedly assisted by the dancers Though I have heard of Ms. Valli for many years — she has been honored in India but has also had an important career across Europe and the United States — this was my first view of her in live performance. With a slender figure and handsome, legible facial features, she has a warm, enthusiastic presence. This suited her opening dance, about the enlivening force of the sun, but her finest numbers were to follow. A long, rich, expressive Varnam solo demonstrated a woman’s amorous longing for the god Shiva. Then two dances of Ms. Valli’s own composition illustrated classic Indian poems: a double-edged one in which a woman’s tone of self-deprecation keeps turning into the opposite, and a tragic one mourning the death of the young hero who was the mainstay of his house. Ms. Valli has a keen instinct for gesture. Even in the pure-dance sections of the works, the way she stretches her arms into space — behind! round! across! diagonally! — has a thrusting, communicative force. In dramatic sequences, she gives herself over to the imagery with complete clarity, intensity and focus: the butterfly, the breeze, the flower; the god, the woman, the companion; the lament, the hero, the death. Most Indian dancers have qualities of humility and impersonality that still seem unusual to Western eyes, as if they were forever the servants of an art that is far larger than they are. At first, Ms. Valli’s assertiveness on Sunday made her seem an exception to this. But as she proceeded, you could see her merging into the deeper tradition. As she did so, her artistry and even her beauty kept growing. The dance becomes not just about herself but also about nature, humanity, existence. When performing in the West, many Indian dancers speak to their audiences about each piece beforehand. Ms. Valli does so with unusual grace and intelligence; her love of poetry makes you want to seek out the verses of which she speaks. Her dancing itself has poetry of many kinds. As her Varnam solo depicted the woman who ardently awaits for Lord Shiva, there was a moment when her demonstration of a butterfly alighting on a flower marvelously illustrated the erotic situation of the heroine herself: She is the flower, yielding to this beautiful visitor. The solo, as Ms. Valli had explained, beautifully shows how Indian art can combine the erotic and the existential; nature itself echoes the soloist’s rapture. The variety with which Ms. Valli demonstrated different moods in later solos was also fascinating. The spring of her feet, the pliancy of her torso, the eloquence of her eyes all kept deepening her spell.