Published by: World Tibet Network News, Sunday, October 27, 1996

By Deidre Kelly, Globe And Mail October 24, 1996

Bearing in mind that some post modern choreographers in the West are returning to dance as a conduit for spiritual transformation and enlightenment- dance as a healing art, if you will- it is with considerable expectation that we went to see the Tibetan Song and Dance Ensemble at Massey Hall on Tuesday night. But though this disciplined ensemble of male and female performers was founded by the Dalai Lama in 1959, the troupe does not deliver a religious experience as much as a bountiful evening of eye-popping theatre.

The costumes are gorgeous- rich silks the colour of parsimmons and the purple of the Himalayan dusk- decorated with fur and feathers, dangling ropes and tassls knotted, you could imagine, according to some ancient ritual of mystical importance. The performers are beautiful as well. They have long agile bodies, oval shaped faces with high-planed cheekbones and a gracefulness that seems natural, though it likely comes from years of intense training.

Their performance style is distinctive: a slow, constant undulating of the arms with a front and back step of the foot that allows the hips to sway in a gentle side-to-side motion. the head is erect, but not stiff, and the shoulders roll in time to the strong percussive beat played out by a duo on cymbals and a single drum. they also make music with their own steps: some dances resembles the step dancing of other folk traditions, from Ireland to Ukraine. The foot digs into the floor and sweeps back to make a sound like the swish of a brush on a snare drum. The movement creates a pleasing audible rhythm that the dancers often augment with their voices, singing in harmony.

Many of the dances originated centuries ago in monasteries. The Tashi Shoelpa ( The Dance of Good Luck) celebrates the Tibetan people's reverence of the Dalai Lama, while Sertri Ngasol commemorates his birthplace. Yet in spite of their ecclesiastical beginnings, they have a populist sheen to them. The dances, far from looking as though harnessed to a rigid hierarchial order, are communal in spirit. Without knowing much about Buddhisim, the religion praticed by the Tibetan monks whose sonorous chants formed part of the two-hour show, we could surmised from the performance that it encourages a cosmological point of view in which everyone, from the people to priests, co-exist in harmony.

Of course, this portrait is one that a company like this would hope to inspire. The troupe, for all its charm, is touring North America (Toronto was its only Canadian stop) to show that Tibet has a distinct culture. Without mentioning China in the narrated prologue, it is clear that director Jamyang Dorjee is referring to Tibet's occupiers when he announces that he and his company are here "to promote Tibetan art in its authentic form" during a time "that is the worst period in our history."

Dance has long been an effective tool of propaganda. Catherin de Medici used it, so did Catherin the Great. More recently, the U.S. State Department sent the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre to Europe and Asia (30 years ago) to dispel doubts that America loves blacks.

The Tibetan Song and Dance Ensemble, on the other hand, loves its own people. This is evident in the care and delicacy with which they present their native arts. Rather than a spiritual awakening, this show is a dose of political enlightenment, served up with a balanced blend of exotic spice that is easy to swallow

Forwarded by Woeser Kyap