Akram Khan’s latest work, Gigenis: The generation of the Earth, is unique in his catalogue. The idea was born in India in 2022, at an intensive, set up by Khan and his long-time collaborator Mavin Khoo. The subject of the course was Indian classical dance, bringing together artists from the varied and many forms that come under that umbrella term. Both Khan and Khoo gained an understanding of their own place in continuing the traditional lineage of Indian classical dance, and Khan wanted to give a platform to a kind of overview of the different forms, in a way that is currently not widely seen internationally.
To present this vision, Khan assembled a company of soloists, leading representatives of these different forms. As they showed him their skills, he constructed a story, based on ancient tales but entirely new, inspired by the spirit of the Mahabharata but with newly created characters.
The story emerges through the experience of a central matriarchal figure. It’s a depiction of the way women’s lives through history have been directed by decisions in which they have had no part. Principal among these is war, and Khan and Khoo here play two brothers competing to be king. One (Khoo) is a peaceable character who wants the world to reconnect with nature, the other (Khan) wants only power, regardless of the outcome of his wielding of that power. The mother-figure’s life-experience has been one of survival through various conflicts: how might she feel about these two men, both her children but with such different world-views?
Khan says (in an excellent interview with Sarah Crompton in the programme notes) that his role has been as a director and dramaturg rather than as a choreographer. He has allowed the seven individuals to elucidate the narrative through their own individual practices.
In truth, the narrative is not the strong point of this piece. It emerges in scraps and snatches and for much of the time we are not sure what is actually happening, but it is all so beautiful to look at that we are thoroughly engaged throughout, our engagement enhanced by the dynamic, propulsive nature of the Indian rhythms (although the volume knob could be turned down a notch or two). It is all quite dimly lit (Zeynep Kepekli) but for once I felt that this created atmosphere rather than a grey shroud; the dancers are in pale or coloured traditional dress, with only the (superb) onstage musicians in black.
The piece also blesses us with the return of Khan as a performer. Officially he retired in 2019 but the creation of this piece drew him in gradually until he realised he was creating a role for himself. He is, of course, superb, the technique and athleticism seemingly undimmed in a fiercely speedy sequence of turns around the stage, the communicative charisma filling the auditorium. Khoo, too, gives an excellent, subtle performance.
Kapila Venu as the matriarchal figure is the lynchpin. She is a practitioner of Kutiyattam, technically theatre rather than dance, but she is a dancer without a doubt, her movement strong and artistic. Sirikalyani Adkoli, Renjith Babu, Mythili Prakash and Vijna Vasudevan are all, emotionally and technically, true artists. I loved the general flexibility and facility with the hands, each individual finger fluttering at seemingly superhuman speeds, or shaped into expressive, almost architectural forms.
This is a dance piece that illuminates cultural and experiential history in a way that is accessible to everyone. That privilege, and the privilege of seeing great artists at work, makes Gigenis: The generation of the Earth a must-see.
