We were led to Adishakti at a time when we were restless and looking for adventure. We would be lying if we said we weren’t straight up greedy to see what Kalki pieces looked like on stage. But we went there with a camera, a suitcase of select pieces and no real plan.
The actors have a rigorous routine and we didn’t want to get in the way. So we were thrilled when they agreed to wear our pieces during a rehearsal. What a privilege to be able to observe artists leaning into their work! We could not have asked for more.
The rehearsal began. And as we looked on, electrified, sometimes afraid, but always yearning to see more, each piece of clothing was transmuted. What did it? Was it the charged yet carefree atmosphere of the space? The vocal body language of the actors who made each piece their own? Their ability to give into the passionate intensity of performance but in a flash, cut loose and break into a laugh? Meanwhile, the fine four-legged folk who were loafing about taught us a thing or two about letting go.