Packaging The Paunch Kanyas

Oddly, the book misses out Aditi Mangaldas in Kathak, and Sujata Mahapatra and Bijoyini in Odissi — our great brown hopes. Nor is the radiant Vyjayanthimala counted, though her films did much to endear dance to a dazzled populace. Legendary Kathakali performer-guru Pattikamtodi Ravunni Menon’s name appears as “Ramunni”, German and Polish names go haywire — surely not the author’s fault.

The true horror of this expensive book is in its photography and design: both shriek of an insensitive eye. Reluctantly, one thinks of dance photographs by the late Cecil Beaton or Denis de Marney from the ’50s and ’60s. They were strangers to our shores, but responded to the poetry of movement. They made magic with mid shots, played with light, conveyed drama, romance, a sense of before-and-after. Hence those exquisite images of Ram Gopal and other early luminaries, both posed and in performance.

Pasricha’s camera goes far too close and robs the frail human body of its mystique. Things that should remain unseen by the viewer are blown up to grotesque, tragic enormity: peeling pancake, cracked heels, chipped nail polish, leathery fingers, pimples, untidy hair, caterpillar eyebrows, crumpled costumes, loose threads. Pasricha’s one parlour trick, the multiple exposure, is repeated ad nauseam. His lighting is harsh, he usually fails to connect with the “juice” of a movement or clicks messy transitions between poses.

Our dancers have only themselves to blame for not demanding better documentation of their lifetime’s effort. Where Pasricha does catch some grace (Manipuri drum dances), the unintelligent design, as throughout, spoils it with double spreads distorted by the binding. The design constantly indulges in meaningless pastiches of cutouts or enlarges the already garish pictures beyond endurance. A visually revolting book in every way, a rare chance squandered.