Prelude: Dancers, including one at center portraying Hindu deity Ganesha, perform before the "Ekaantha Seetha" premiere. Photo: Mike Schwartz

It wouldn't be quite right to use the "feminist" label to describe the three women portrayed in the dance-drama "Ekaantha Seetha – a lonely furrow," which had its local premiere Sunday at the Irvine Barclay Theatre.

The heroines celebrated in this show were not seeking to overturn the societal status quo, although woman No. 2, Lakshmi Bai, came the closest to that model. She was a real-life warrior who died defending her city against British rule in the mid-19th century.

Still, the point to take home was that these women realized memorable achievements without forsaking their culture or its "worthy traditions," as program notes stated. Empowerment is within the reach of every woman (and man), although it very well might be a life of hardship – that old "lonely furrow" to plow. This was the essential theme of this interesting, but overly long, three-hour production, presented locally by the Barclay and the Ektaa Center of Irvine.

"Ekaantha Seetha" was a team venture that included the Cleveland Cultural Alliance, and V.P. and Shantha Dhananjayan, husband-and-wife teachers, choreographers and performers from Chennai (formerly known as Madras), India. The dance makers worked in a fused language of classical, folk and expressionist dance that was notable for its smooth transitions. Likewise, composer T.V. Gopalakrishnan braided together a multitude of musical styles, rhythms and languages for his original instrumental score and songs; the only disappointment was that the music was recorded, rather than played live.

Even those unfamiliar with the stories, the languages and the other cultural signposts could follow the story outlines, thanks to the choreographers' dramatic clarity and to the distinct body articulation of the performers, who hailed from both India and the United States. Shantha Dhananjayan and Rathna Kumar, a teacher and performer now based in Houston, provided lively interludes of mime and English narration to ensure that the non-Asians in the crowd didn't get lost.

Still, one sensed there was a goodly portion of this entertainment that streamed past this viewer, unappreciated. The second tale in particular, which to me was the weakest because of its simplistic marching about with raised fists, could well have resonated the strongest with others, because of its nationalist themes. In a few instances, the audience's audible reactions provided clues to inside jokes, such as the peals of laughter in Act 3 for a mother character, whom Kumar so ably personified, and for several fellows in a wedding scene, particularly an inebriated musician and a character taking photographs nonstop.

The first act was the strongest – the story of Vaidehi, wife of Rama, taken from the epic literature "The Ramayana." With her good name wrongly smeared through gossip, the pregnant Vaidehi was forced from the palace to live in exile and raise two sons alone. When the boys were reunited with Rama, Vaidehi returned into the ground, from which legend says she was born.

There was a flawless match of dancing and storytelling in these scenes, from the classically inspired groupings at Rama's palace to the naturalistic human portrayal of fire. The leading parts were well-cast, too, particularly Gopukiran as the emotionally torn character Lakhsmana, Narendra Kumar as a regal Rama and ethereal Sreelatha Vinod as Vaidehi.

The final act featured a fictional Every Woman who embraces education, overcomes a tragic accident and still manages to help the poor. Named Aparajitha, which means (according to the program) "Not-by-others-vanquished," she might have come off sickly sweet, if not for Pavithra Srinivasan's riveting portrayal. Eyes widening, fists clenched and feet stamping vigorously, Srinivasan threw off a masked gang that was figuratively keeping her from self-realization, like some superhero.

All the dancers of "Ekaantha Seetha" performed with meticulous precision. It was interesting to note the emphasis on subtler facial expressions and softer foot movements among this group than we typically see among Indian classical dancers in Orange County.

Laura Bleiberg, Orange County Register