“Śridevi,” an invocation to the Mother Goddess is a program requisite. One always gives form (through dance) to one’s sense of humility and gratitude for dancing on this earth. With the chanting of “Om” three times, the traditional Vedic offerings of light, music, dance, and flowers came to life. Reddy circled the stage carrying a small tray of tea lights, placing it on the ground. Spiraling upward, she dance-mimed playing a fretted instrument as another dancer joined onstage in the devotional activity. Two more ensemble members appeared, adding their vibrant energy for an offering of dance. Here, I was reminded of Nrityagram’s immensely satisfying, full throttle approach to moving through space─not typical of most classical Indian dance, which tends to be more position oriented. As lead vocalist Jatin Sahu movingly crooned Pandit Raghunath Panigrahi’s sublime music composition of homage to the Goddess, the dancers enacted scenes from stories of the Goddess’s emanations─some lovingly benevolent, others violently wrathful. In the final moments, two dancers moved downstage with hands cupped. They descended into a deep plié to spill handfuls of flower buds onto the floor before backing away, their hands continuing to form mudras of the offerings─multiplying their gift. 

Sen performed a solo interpretive work “Priyé Chārusheelé” (Divine Surrender), again based on a poem from the Gita Govinda, in which Krishna returns to Radha seeking her forgiveness and acceptance. During the post-show curtain chat, Sen recounted the river of history behind this deeply personal work. The solo was taught to her by her teacher, Protima Gauri Bedi (founder of Nrityagram). It was taught to Bedi by her guru, Kelucharan Mohapatra, who is credited with the revival of Odissi as a classical form in the twentieth century. Sen took the concept and original music by Pandit Bhubaneswar Mishra and created her own solo, which she described as a declaration of absolute, pure love. Sen offered a nuanced negotiation between the confident god and the remorseful lover. Inhabiting the confidence and self-assurance of Krishna, she broadened her shoulders, crowned herself with a mudra, and gazed directly at the audience. Expanding to full-bodied physicality, she assumed a wide plié and pulsed it forward vibrating an aura of power. Then transitioning to the humility of one who recognizes their complete interdependence with another, Sen descended into a grand plié, her hands pleading for forgiveness before completely offering herself with a total backbend.