Dancing out demons

Dance critic BERNADETTE RAE watches as a dramatic ancient dance form takes to the streets of Otara.

It is a riveting spectacle - aural and visual - as the Chau dancers of West Bengal arrive in Otara's town centre. The nine slim young men, three musicians and six dancers, create more noise and blaze in the hot sun with more tinsel and brilliant ersatz jewels than you would expect from a troupe three times that size.

It is Race Unity Day, last Wednesday, and the locals, mostly students of the Manukau Institute of Technology, celebrate with a multinational festival in the community centre hall.

A few days later, in the weekend, the Chau dancers enthral crowds at the Festival of Asia. But now there is a ripple of excitement as they approach.

The strident call of the shahnai, a double-reeded instrument related to the oboe, cannot be ignored. The rhythms of the dhamsa, a big kettle drum, and the smaller side drum, the dhol, are irresistible. Heads crane for a glimpse.

Toes tap and hips, torsos and shoulders begin to move in unison. In a few minutes two of the musicians are seated on the platform at the front. The third, with the scarlet-swathed dhol, leaps and strides through the central clearing, as the decibels rise, the tempo builds, and the overture hits overkill.

There are normally 15 or 20 in a Chau troupe - but performances are traditionally performed in village arenas, where the earth and the trees and the open sky absorb excesses of sound. The purpose of the Chau music and dance is to keep villagers awake and entertained through the long nights of the Siva Ghadjan festival, literally the "roaring of Siva."

Siva is the Hindu God of Destruction, and the festival coincides with the celebration of the New Year, in mid-April, in West Bengal.

In Otara the first of the dancers appears from an internal side door, a huge silver headdress and full mask, complete with long black wig, now in place. The head tilts in silent attitude, silver decorations amplifying the simple gesture. Three identical figures follow.

These soldier figures pick up the drums' rhythm with increasingly athletic leaps and kicks and foot slapping. Then, suddenly, they erupt, solid masks, wigs, huge headdresses and all, into a series of coordinated back flips. The audience roars!

A fifth figure emerges from the wings, resplendent in pink sari, fluorescent magenta headgear - and eight goddess arms in addition to the artist's human two. This is Durga, the demon-slaying goddess. She is quickly followed by the demon himself, Mahisasur, dark faced with a wide and ghastly grimace, his head brilliantly haloed in glittering gold.

Chau dance has its roots in the ancient barracks of feudal India. Its base in martial arts is obvious as swords flash and fly, figures leap and twirl in stylised combat, distinctly Cossack squat-kicks are performed and, finally, Mahisasur lies vanquished beneath the not particularly feminine foot of Durga, the demon slayer once again supreme.

The dancers parade around their ring and exit. The musicians, more humanly, are drenched in sweat.

* A documentary, music and photographic exhibition on the dancers, coordinated by Manukau School of Visual Arts lecturer Jyosna La Trobe-Burton, will run at the Fisher Gallery, Pakuranga, next month.