An affecting one-woman exploration of the origins of the monstrous feminine, and hope thereafter.

In multiple cultures around the world, women have always been seen as the meeker sex, expected to be docile and obedient, with virginity and purity placed among the highest of virtues. But the truth is, women are not these paradigms of virtuosity, and should not be held to such impossible standards. With centuries of societal suppression, what then happens to the female psyche, particularly when it comes to the repression of desire?

That’s a subject that’s explored through the lens of kathak in Aditi Mangaldas’ one woman show, FORBIDDEN. Playing as part of the Esplanade’s Kalaa Utsavam – Indian Festival of Arts, FORBIDDEN considers the long-held fear of female sexual desire, across both conservative and liberals societies, and presents this across three acts, as Aditi takes us across the journey of a woman discovering and awakening to her sexual desire, the results from suppressing it, and finally, a prayer for salvation.

The kathak dance form the choreography draws so heavily from relies on bells attached to the dancer’s ankles, which Aditi still holds onto here. At the beginning, she comes onstage dressed in simple, loose beige garb, giving her freedom to move. She seems to display a show of innocence, obediently adhering to traditional kathak performance norms, as she moves across a limited square of space demarcated by Michael Hulls’ lighting. This gives audience members a chance to witness her technical skill and prowess, every step she makes marked by a ringing of the bell, deliberate and precise.

However, it’s not long before the dance evolves into something much more contemporary. Midway through this act, Aditi suddenly seems to notice a flower blooming, as represented by her hands. Her face scrunches up into an expression of fear, as she continually tries to push it down and erase it, only for it to keep appearing time and time again, perhaps representative of her growing sexual appetite and desire she can no longer contain. We become fiercely aware of how much she is struggling to exert control over herself, her movements becoming more frantic and conflicted.

The performance takes a distinct turn for the dark side as the stage becomes bathed in darkness, before we are shocked by bells falling from the fly bars, each one landing in a precise location and making a distinct crash as they hit the ground. Now laid across the stage, each pile of bells glows with orange light, each one a tiny furnace burning. Aditi re-emerges onto the stage, and the lights are no longer soft white, but have become a harsh, angry red, the space expanded. It feels as if she can no longer exert control over her desire, and all that she has been suppressing has been let loose at one go.

Aditi is no longer the elegant, calm dancer she once was, but has become something wild, crawling across the stage like a beast, hurling her body as if possessed by an impossible force. There are times she appears clearly at ease with her body, becoming more flirtatious or sensual in her movements, to emphasise her own passion and sexuality, and we wonder if this is the result and retribution for having bottled up all the rage and anger and energy for so long, allowing the sexual desire to transform and mutate into something far more monstrous. The bells she discards from her own body seem to symbolise this – she is uncaged and unleashed, and at one point, she even holds the bells in her mouth like a chain that once held her captive.

It seems that such suppression will only lead to violence and pain, and in its final act, Aditi is once again in the dull grey light, the bells now forming a square boundary around her. Audio of her voice plays, where she recalls a story of women she invites for a meal, and how they come together to realise how they themselves have so little desire left, or are taught to fear their own sexuality after years of being told not to let it show, and onstage, we see Aditi collapse into a heap.

As the boundary of bells glows, they seem almost sinister, once again becoming a zone to entrap her and prevent her from expressing herself. In a final please, she clutches the bells and lifts them up to the heavens on her knees, begging for some kind of escape from the hell she’s been through. And just when you think it ends, the heavens respond, the sky opens up and a shower of petals rains down upon her, reminiscent of the flower of desire she tried so hard to crush in the first act. It is an emotional conclusion to the entire ordeal, and feels as if the heavens are blessing her, and consoling her that all this desire is normal, and should be able to be as she is.

Aided by lighting that helps highlight specific parts of the stage and add to the atmosphere, and Nicki Wells’ music that courses through your body, moving from light to threatening to reflective, FORBIDDEN marks a dancer in top form who has mastered her chosen dance form so well, she knows how to both utilise it and subvert it to deliver a powerful social message. Expressive, affecting and professionally executed, it is a production that both impresses and leaves one keenly aware of the dangers of any kind of suppressive measures, urgent with its message to learn to love ourselves for who we are, lest we end up unleashing our own doom when we can no longer control it. There is poise, grace and emotion, and we are left transformed by this masterful performance.

Photos Courtesy of Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay

FORBIDDEN played at the Singtel Waterfront Theatre from 24th to 25th November 2023.

Kalaa Utsavam – Indian Festival of Arts 2023 ran from 17th to 26th November 2023. Full programme available here

Production Credits:

Concept, Choreography and Performance: Aditi Mangaldas Dramaturge: Farooq Chaudhry Lighting Design: Michael Hulls Music Composition: Nicki Wells Costume Design: Kimie Nakano Mentor: Morag Deyes Commissioned by: Aditi Mangaldas Dance Company – The Drishtikon Dance Foundation Co-Commissioned by: Sadler’s Wells, London; National Centre for The Performing Arts, Mumbai; Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay, Singapore Supported by: Dance City, Newcastle and Rajika Puri, USA