I just finished reading that incredible interview with Aakash Odedra in *The Saturday Paper*, and I have to say, my mind is still spinning. It’s not often you read about an artist who speaks about their craft with such raw, spiritual intensity. Odedra doesn’t just talk about dance; he talks about *possession*.
The central idea—that the dancer is a vessel, a conduit for something divine—is what hit me the hardest. In a world where dance is so often packaged as pure athleticism, technical perfection, or viral social media content, Odedra’s perspective is a profound reset. He describes a state of surrender, where the "I" disappears and something else flows through. It’s the difference between performing steps and becoming a story, a emotion, a god made manifest in human form.
This isn’t about religion in a dogmatic sense. It’s about the sacred space of the stage becoming a temple. The lights, the silence of the audience, the musician’s first note—these aren’t just cues; they’re an invocation. When Odedra speaks of his Kathak and Bharatanatyam training as a foundation for this dialogue with the divine, it makes perfect sense. These are classical forms steeped in millennia of storytelling that connects the earthly and the eternal. He’s not abandoning that; he’s using it as a language to speak to something even more ancient and universal.
What’s so thrilling is how he bridges this deeply traditional, almost mystical understanding with utterly contemporary expression. He’s not a relic. He’s a modern artist using a timeless principle: art as a channel. It makes you look at his performances—whether in the solo intensity of *Rising* or in his collaborations—completely differently. You’re not just watching a man move with breathtaking skill; you’re witnessing an act of offering. Every spin, every gesture of his mudras, every sudden stillness feels like a prayer or a shared secret.
It also throws a stark light on what much of our performance culture is missing. We’re obsessed with the *how*—the perfect pirouette, the biggest leap, the most complex sequence. Odedra is obsessed with the *why* and the *who*. Or rather, the *what* that moves through him. It’s a reminder that the most electrifying performances aren’t about control, but about controlled release—allowing something bigger to take the wheel.
His journey, from a dyslexic child who found his voice in movement to an artist who sees his body as a medium for gods, is the ultimate argument for dance as a form of intelligence and transcendence. It’s not an escape from the world, but a deeper plunge into its core.
So the next time I watch a performance, I’ll be listening for that silence behind the music, watching for that moment where the dancer disappears and only the dance remains. Aakash Odedra hasn’t just described his process; he’s issued an invitation to experience art as a sacred encounter. And honestly, I’m ready to accept.
