NUANCES OF A GLORIOUS ART

                       

A decade ago, no one had heard of Nangiar Koothu. Kuttiyattam, the male counterpart of this temple theatre tradition, has only recently become a must-see-must-be seen-at event in the big metros. Even then, few had heard of or seen a solo Nangiar Koothu performance. Not surprising, considering that there is only one Nangiar, P.K. Usha qualified to perform the entire repertoire of 217 slokas of the text ‘Sri Krishna Charitam’ after training for over 20 years. It tells the story of King Ugrasena, the romance of Subhadra and Arjuna, and the kidnapping of Subhadra. Usha performed at Mumbai’s National Centre for Performing Arts and captivated the connoisseurs with her exposition of the intricately choreographed extract, ‘Kamsa Vadham.’

It is important to understand the background of this little known art --- one more precious gem from the seemingly bottomless ocean of Kerala’s traditional and folk arts. According to some historians, Nangiar Koothu had its origins in the ninth century when it was promoted by King Kulasekhara Varman. Kuttiyatam, the theatre tradition had already been developed into a sophisticated art. It had been honed to such intellectual and esoteric heights, that it required a learned audience which knows its mythology, appreciates the nuances of Sanskrit and is conversant with the eloquent language of the eyes and hand gestures (mudras) used by the Chakyars. One story has it that that King Kulasekhara was in love with a dancer called Nangi. He created a performing space for her on the Kuttiyattam stage, proclaiming that her descendants were to be known as Nangiars. The Nangiar women marry Nambiars who are traditionally skilled in playing the drums, supervising rituals of make-up and stage management.

Ritualistic art traditions connected with the temple follow their own mode of purity and notions of pollution and taboos, one reason why a strict hierarchical system is followed in Kerala where one may perform only those duties permitted in one’s clan. Therefore Chakyars, Nambiars and Nangiars are those communities whose religious duties include theatrical performances in the temple’s specific area called the Koothumbalam. The Nangiar’s duty was to perform solo dances, take on female roles in Kuttiyattam and to accompany the Kuttiyattam performers by chanting the verses.

The tradition of Nangiar Koothu is even today a regular practice in the Vadakkunathan temple of Thrissoor and in others like Ambalapuzha, Irinjalakuda, Thiruppunithura and Kottayam. Nangiars were dismissed as frippery and relegated to a decorative role. The revival of Nangiar Koothu began at the Ammanur Chachu Chakyar Smaraka Gurukulam in Irinjalakuda in 1984 under the guidance Ammanur Madhava Chakyar.

Daughter of the mizhavu player C.K. Krishnan Nambiar, Usha began her training at the age of six. The Guru painstakingly researched the text and chose 217 slokas from the available manuscripts. These were then choreographed and taught to a handful of select Nangiars. The intensive training consists of learning the basic body exercises, the mudras, talas and the eye expression (netra-abhinaya).

In her performance, Usha chose an excerpt from Kulasekhara’s ‘Subhadra Dhananjayam’. Kalpalatika a sakhi of Subhadra tells the story of Krishna in the form of a Nirvahana, a recapitulation of events leading to the present context. Krishna and Balarama enter Kamsa’s court after breaking the bow in the sacrifice (Dhanuryagya) and vanquishing the elephant sent to kill them. Usha described the sentiments expressed by the various persons present. Each person reacts according to his relation with the young princess thus giving rise to the nine sentiments (navarasas) which are delineated in detail.

The stage was set with the Spartan simplicity that marks most Kerala arts. The forestage was dominated by a large lamp. The centre upstage was two upturned stools which held large drums called mizhavu. A small square of white cloth was laid out with care, on the left of the recitalist. Another stool stood next to the lamp. The performance began with the brief mizhavu playing which set the mood for the evening. After a brief invocation behind a screen (Thiraiseela), the Nangiar made an impressive appearance in a white and gold sari. A bright red velvet crown and typical ornaments completed the costume. The lamp lit with three wicks should have ideally provided the only lighting for greater effect, but the theatre lights illuminated more space than necessary. The Nangiar sat on the stool to enact the story, ingeniously using this simple prop to denote a throne by standing on it. The mudras were similar to those used in Kathakali.

Kuttiyattam and Nangiar Koothu are examples of the dramatic axiom that one does not mix mime and verbal music. The rich tonal variations of the mizhavu and the edakka combines to create not just music, but were instrumental in arousing an emotive response. The Nangiar’s achievement was to get the rhythmic accents on the feet; carefully negotiate fine reflections of the wrist and fingers; control the throbbing of facial muscles and eyelids; and maintain fluidity of the elaborate sweeps of the arms. All the while, she also told a story full of moods and settlements without the crutch of verbal expressions.

It is the intensity of the dancer’s physicality and total concentration that gives this art power and energy. This branch of Indian mimodrama prides itself on the mastery over the eye muscles to express emotion or tell a story. There is not much movement of the feet or torso. Only towards the end when scenes of fights are enacted is there some animation in the performance.

The duration of 90 minutes seems short to the spectator but is apparently grueling to the artiste. It can be likened to an intensive meditation session where the Nangiar withdraws her own persona and enters the mind of the characters she portrays.

A word about the mizhavu and its role in this particular style will not be out of place here. The mizhavu is an egg-shaped copper drum with a small circular opening at the top. A small area of stretched calf skin provides the only playing space. The main player uses every part of his hand and wrists to create a startling variety of sounds. He follows the dancer’s movements closely and skillfully reproduces a soft shower of raindrops, flowing tears, the screeches of a dying Kamsa, or the roar of a lion with equal ease. The main player P.P. Rajiv received hearty appreciation from the audience. V.K. Hariharan played the support mizhavu. Kalanilayam Unnikrishnan (edakka) and Kalamandalam Sindhu (recitation and Thalam) accompanied the recital.

Usha peaked to considerable heights when she transformed herself into the sorrowful parent of Krishna. She seemed momentarily overwhelmed by (karunarasa) the emotional upheaval of their plight. Usha was also charming as the coy gopika who becomes enamoured (Sringararasa) by the beauty of Krishna. Every rasa was faithfully rendered.

It is to the credit of this young science graduate that she has embarked on this historically significant career.

(Published on May 24, 1996, in the ‘Friday Review’ of ‘The Hindu’.)

Author’s Note:

In December 2000, I was invited by G. Venu of Natana Kairali to attend a workshop on Netra-Abhinaya at Natana Kairali, Ammanur Chachu Chakyar Smaraka Gurukulam at Irinjalakuda for two months. I had a wonderful opportunity to interact with Ammanur Madhava Chakyar and other revered Gurus. My fascination for Kuttiyattam and Nangiar Koothu increased manifold after seeing it at close quarters. Every year in the first fortnight of the New Year, Natana Kairali conducts a Kutiyattam Festival where one can witness the best artistes of this ancient art.