The beauty of ancient art forms lie in their simplicity. With limited instrumentation or ornamentation, they are able to make time stand still, drawing the audience into their worlds with prolonged yet dynamic movement. Storytelling traditions around the world have taken place during long nights under black skies over crackling fires; often accompanied by drums or other musical instruments. They date back to the time of cave people and old shamans, who performed their acts - ritualistic or cultural over the light of a moving fire. Many temple traditions in India take place in the presence of a ceremonial fire. The fire stands as witness to the event and illuminates the space. Fires breathe life into the performance; the flickering of a lamp has so many names and expressions that the English language cannot cover.
In Shaiva Koothu, a Koodiyattam performance that was staged in Bengaluru, the lighting of the lamp in a theatre that was enveloped with darkness, took me back by millennia and made me sit upright with fast paced breaths. The next sound of a single beat on the 'mizhavu' - a tall urn shaped drum that is covered with hide in its small opening on the top, awakened me even more. The introduction to the piece was a series of beats on the mizhavu, each which seemed more energetic than the one before. The beats rose to a higher frequency in a continuous manner before coming to a stop. The Koodiyattam performance had begun.
Koodiyattam is a theatre art form practiced in Southern Kerala, dating back to more than a thousand years and is perhaps the oldest and longest performed form of theatre in India. It is famed for its characteristic of prolonging multiple expressions of a single action into many hours and thus a single act into many days to achieve an imaginative fantasy. The extensive use of the eyes and facial muscles to develop a feeling of a character through retellings of their stories, is a prominent feature of this method of acting. Today, performance artists from various disciplines like contemporary theatre and Bharatnatyam travel to Kerala to train in this one skill of 'abhinaya' through the eyes. For such artists, learning an aspect of the skill may take many days or a year. For Koodiyattam artists, learning and performing this art form, takes the penance of a lifetime.
'Koodiyattam' means coming together to perform. It is representative of the moment a fellow actor joins a solo actor who has been enacting a single act for many nights. Two types of acts are present - the Chakyar Koothu which is performed by male artists as a group and uses vocal recitals of Sanskrit verses taken from prominent plays. Secondly, the Nangiar Koothu is performed by female solo performers and uses more devout expressions of the face with barely any dialogue. Both types have a key element in common. They are guided throughout by the sound of the mizhavu, a big copper drum that drives the performer through their act. The difference in time between the rhythmic sound of the drummers and the movement of the performers is almost nonexistent. The drumbeats follow every gesture, from the movement of the eyes, eyebrows, hands and fingers, to the very breath of the actor. The theatre form has been traditionally performed at 'Koothambalams' or performance spaces within temples. The actors are part of the Chakyars or Nangiars caste and the drummers are Ambalavasi Nambiars. These performances are practiced and held with the highest reverence; to a point where they may seem ritualistic in nature. Staged separately in a modern space, however, the theatre form retained all the aspects of tradition, and managed to create an atmosphere that might have only been found within temple complexes during earlier centuries.
The feeling of witnessing an act which connects us with history by making us a part of the temporal scale of the cosmos, irrespective of the space where it is performed, has to be credited to the immense truthfulness with which the performer stages it. It reflects the years of sadhana and dedication that the artist has to the form, with the grit to take it forward. Kapila Venu, an exponent of Koodiyattam, is one of the greatest examples of how artists who practice ancient art forms can reinterpret them and connect you to an erstwhile generation through their rigorous practice and explorations of literature which might have never found their place earlier within the specific repertoire. She staged Shaiva Koothu for the first time in Bengaluru, at Jagriti theatre; and for me, as a person in the audience, it was an experience of a lifetime.
Karaikal Ammaiyar
Verses from Karaikal Ammaiyar's 'thiruvaalangaatu mootha thirupadhikam' drifted around the densely packed theatre before the performance. Traditionally Koodiyattam performances follow the text from Sanskrit plays. Here, an exploration of Tamil Bhakti poetry was something I looked forward to.
Karaikal Ammaiyar is one of the three women who is part of the 63 Nayanmars, or devotees of Shiva. According to folklore, Nayanmars are Bhakti poets who have been graced with Shiva's presence at a point in their life after which they chose the path of devotion. There are numerous stories that detail these miraculous incidents. Karaikal Ammaiyar is known for having sought a wish to become a ghost like presence, abandoning her youthful body after years of living a material life with her husband. She willingly adorned the image of a 'peyar' or a ghost - with bones protruding out of her ribs, withered breasts and hollowed out eyes. She made a pilgrimage to the Himalayas walking only with her hands as she didn't wish to step on the holy land with her feet. Seeing her on the way to the top, Parvati, seated next to Shiva asks him who that is. Shiva replies saying that she is a 'mother' or ammai. He embraces her as a mother would a child, and grants her wish of watching his thandavam or dance at the graveyard seated beneath his feet.
Thiruvaalangatu Mootha Thirupadhikam is Ammaiyar's set of poems or padhikams that are placed within the Shaiva thirumurais. Known to be the first writer who infused musicality into the poetry, the padhikams have been described as 'mootha' or early and 'thirupadhikams' because they are addressed to God. 'Thiruvaalangatu' symbolises the graveyard that Shiva performs his dance in.
To give you a glimpse of the poetry, I'll share a translated version of one of the thirupadhikams. This poem describes a ghoul in the graveyard.
கள்ளிக் கவட்டுஇடைக் காலை நீட்டிக்
கடைக்கொள்ளி வாங்கி மசித்து, மையை
விள்ள எழுதி, வெடுவெடு என்ன
நக்கு, வெருண்டு, விலங்கு பார்த்துத்
துள்ளி, சுடலைச் சுடுபி ணத்தீச்
சுட்டிய முற்றும் சுளிந்து, பூழ்தி
அள்ளி அவிக்க,நின் றாடும் எங்கள்
அப்பன் இடம்திரு ஆலங்காடே. (திருவாலங்காட்டு மூத்த திருப்பதிகம் -1.பா. எண் 2)
Translation:
Stretching her legs outward between the thorny branches of the kalli* plant
Taking the coal from the extinguished wood of the pyre
Grinding and applying the dense black paste on her eyes
She bursts with hysterical laughter
Rolling and looking around here and there like an animal
She suddenly jumps alight, staring intensely at the fire searing and burning the corpse
At the dust swirling along with the ghouls in the darkness
Where our father, the great Lord shiva dances,
is thiruvaalangaatu, the great graveyard.
*kalli - a desert plant that has thorny branches and grows outward from the ground in the absence of a single central trunk.
Shaiva koothu
Shaiva Koothu was performed in three parts. The first part showed Ammaiyar's pilgrimage to the Himalayas and Shiva's motherly embrace seeing a devout mother. The second explored the atmosphere of 'thiruvaalangatu' or the graveyard. The performer showed the various ghouls that inhabit the graveyard; a ghoul that fishes within the searing flesh of the melting corpses, to find bones and skulls to string themselves a garland. Another who carries their baby, beside a gnarly vulture who has its babies hatched in the graveyard too. There are ghouls who frighten, who dance around and enjoy the juices of the blood from the corpses. There is one ghoul who is pregnant and gives birth to her baby. She feeds the baby milk from her breasts, but the next moment is distracted and throws her baby away at the sight of drifting dust from the pyres and the smoke that fills the air. Lastly, they witness the electrifying thandavam, seated at the feet of Shiva.
The performer, Kapila Akka, entered the auditorium with her hands slightly above her heads mimicking the shape in which Ammaiyar walked upside down to the Himalayas. The strength in her hands and legs showed the strenuous journey. She filled her limbs with so much weight through her slow but pronounced movements. It filled the space with the arduousness that the journey entailed.
*Koodiyattam is performed within the space illuminated by the three wick lamp at the centre of the stage. The faces of the drummers behind is barely visible with the focus being solely on the performer. No props are used with an exception of a stool, where the performer sits occasionally. *
The tenderness with which the performer showed Ammaiyar and Shiva's deep loving embrace that he hugs her with, felt like a union of mother and child. Her eyes reflected warmth, and softness. For a context that is outwardly filled with expressions of ugliness, the acting portrayed the inner devotion that outshines external characteristics. Shiva was hardly shown as tough but more gentle. He melted in love for his devotee, calling her his mother with Parvati as witness on his side. The mizhavu became more gentle with softer beats in a similar tempo.
The following part where different ghouls from the graveyard were enacted, used more elaborate gestures. The act of stripping the flesh from the corpse to drink the blood, and stringing together skulls to form a garland were shown using exquisite gesturing making the actions voluminous thus carving out the space. The theatre was slowly being turned into the dark graveyard, setting up for the final thandav.
The most notable was the performer's portrayal of a pregnant ghoul. This echoed the heaviness in limbs as shown in Ammaiyar's journey. The tiredness and fatigue from bearing a heavy belly were conveyed through walking in circles and the movements becoming slower with time. At a point where the ghoul is unable to bear it anymore, she sits on the ground and struggles in pain to give birth. She then feeds the newborn baby some milk, and abandons the child the next moment. There is a sort of panic, restlessness and fearfulness. The drum beats ascend in tempo to a few howls, before there is calm again.
Shiva graces the finale with a dance that is symbolised by its extensive eye movements to the corner of both sides. Hands stretched out wide, there is majestic swaying to either sides as the performance nears its end. Everything picks up pace and reaches a crescendo, and before we know it the drum beat comes to a stop.
Once the performer left the stage, the drummer extinguished the oil lamp. The lights came back on to a thunderous applause. I was unable to immediately stand up since my legs were shaking. My mother had tears in her eyes, as if she had witnessed something godly. Kapila akka stepped up onto the stage to take a bow, and she seemed so different from whom we had seen as Ammaiyar. The transformation of the performer that we had seen before was simply astounding.
post script
Light and sound formed the basis of the performance. The low intensity of the lamp light accentuated by its flickering movement along with the drums that modulated their tempo according to the actions of the performer were key to the impact it had on the viewer. Light amidst darkness and sounds amidst silence helped achieve the dynamism of the acts. There was not a single break by the drummers for 90 mins as the drums were beaten, so after a while the sounds actually mimicked a state of stillness. I was reminded most of Herzog's documentary "Cave of Forgotten Dreams", that talks about the oldest cave paintings at the Chauvet cave in France. Herzog's monologue, says that in a prehistoric era, the cave paintings would've been illuminated by the flame of a torch. The huge drawings on the curved cave walls would have looked animated because of the moving fire. In Koodiyattam, the artists had managed to capture that similar essence of prehistoric storytelling, through light, sound and movement.
-----Swarna
References to know more:
Author's note - I would highly recommend everyone to watch a Koodiyattam performance live at least once in your lifetime. It is something worth travelling to Kerala for, to have a glimpse of this magnificent form of theatre. I also want to mention that videos do not do justice to the experience of watching it live, so make sure the first time you see it is in person.
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