What's a woman to do when she loses agency over her body? Is gender just a construct? And at point does justice sour into something closer to revenge?
Akram Khan's most recent piece, Until the Lions, begs all those questions and more, with his potent retelling of the epic poem, the Mahabharata. Over 2,500 years old, the Mahabharata is a sprawling narrative of the Kurukshetra War and the fates of the Kaurava and the Pandava princes. And when I say sprawling, I mean sprawling; the Mahabharata is roughly ten times the length of the Iliad and the Odyssey combined.
In his choreographic reimagining of the tale, Khan focuses on one of the lesser-known characters of the Mahabharata; the princess Amba.
Abducted on her wedding day by the princely warrior Bheeshma, she ends up falling in love with him only to be rejected for a vow of chastity. She goes back to her village, where she is further rejected by her family, friends, and her betrothed. Her life, in short, is in ruins. Amba prays for answers in the inky silence of the mountains, but the stillness becomes so all-encompassing that it threatens to wreck havoc on the world. The gods intervene and grant her wish for retribution, however, in order to fight Bheeshma and claim her revenge, Amba must die, be reborn and transition into a man. The story – as with all good stories – is deeply specific in subject but universal in theme.
Akram Khan asks a lot of his audience with Until the Lions; a suspension of disbelief that not many choreographers working today would dare to demand. Generally speaking, most contemporary choreographer steer clear of narrative altogether. But Khan's work is so surefooted and self-assured that he pulls the viewer along with him effortlessly.
Until the Lions features a cast of three supremely talented dancers. Akram Khan himself dances the role of Bheeshma, offering a characterization that is less “godlike regent” and more "deeply flawed individual questions his choices." The nuanced approach gives the story some dimension and relevence. Ching-Ying Chien as Amba is light and strong as a willow branch, and her performance was both tragic and breathtaking. Christine Joy Ritter was frankly terrifying as Amba's masculine embodiment, her earthy angularity and strength creating a movement language all of her own. The hairs on the back of my neck raised, unbidden, on more than one occasion.