Dancing In Deadlock: Kerala’s renowned Kathakali artistes have struggled to survive post the pandemic

Prabal Gupta.

Prabal Gupta.

Life during the Lockdown wasn’t easy for many Kathakali artistes, leaving the practitioners of India’s internationally-renowned ‘story play’ struggling to make their ends meet.

- Akhila Damodaran

In any regular year, Kerala will have a vibrant annual calendar, populated with events and festivals. There are festivities at temples, clubs and open spaces are thronged by lakhs of people to witness the colourful, bright performances. Onlookers often enjoy these dance performances all night long at temple premises.

Like the rest of the world, however, 2020 was different to arts and culture in the state, due to the COVID-19 pandemic. There was no hullabaloo over the festivities, and the muddy lanes of the rural villages in ‘God's Own Country’ had also dropped dead silent.

One of the worst affected is the centuries-old classical art Kathakali. For about eight months, Kerala has not been able to produce its internationally-renowned ‘story play’ art, defined by elaborate and bright makeup, and costumes in its usual organic form. Audiences can usually enjoy Kathakali in different ways: they can either experience the music, songs, spoken word narrative, an ensemble of instrument players, or the dance drama itself. It is an all-in-one performance art. During the Lockdown, however, the audience was unable to enjoy the beauty of the resplendent makeup and shine in the glaring eyes of the performers.

Makeup artist Suresh Thottara (R) with a Kathakali artiste.

Makeup artist Suresh Thottara (R) with a Kathakali artiste.

A few online performances were conducted by a handful of prominent artistes; but these shows feel inadequate, both restricting interaction between the audience and the artistes, and limiting the true experiential joy of the theatrical beauty of Kathakali, of the elaborate headdresses, distinctive makeup, soulful expressions on the vividly painted faces, the mesmerising body language of dance, all perfectly toned to the rhythms of classical music and to the portrayal of characters from Hindu mythology and Puranas.

Life during the Lockdown wasn't easy for the artistes, either. With little or no support from the government, several Kathakali artistes have been struggling to make their ends meet.

From having jampacked shows to no shows and zero interaction with the audience for months, he felt that his ‘soul had died’. “Live stage performances are an integral part of performance art like Kathakali,” said Gupta. “We artistes live and die on stage.”

Mohan Kumar (46) is a well-known Kathakali artiste among the connoisseurs of the dance-form in Ernakulam. Also known as Sadanam Mohan (Kathakali artistes add the name of the institute where they study Kathakali for at least six years as a prefix to their names), his daily performances have wowed domestic and foreign audiences since 1996. Kumar used to also conduct private Kathakali classes for a few students until COVID-19 attacked the normalcy of life, and the government had to force shut every theatre.

“I sat idle at home for two months,” said Kumar. “I have taken a loan of about ₹8 lakh for building my house and it was getting difficult to manage expenses. I have an ailing old mother, wife and two daughters to take care of. I had filled an online form and requested the state government for a compensation couple of months ago. [I] received no response. So, when I got a chance to work at a construction site, I took it up. It pays me around ₹700 a day.”

Fascinated by the performances while growing up, these artistes start learning Kathakali at a very young age. Kalamandalam Soman, a 57-year-old artiste says there is no age to learn Kathakali. Soman, who started the school Guruvaram Kathakali Vidyalayam in 2018 to teach Kathakali dance, makeup, costumes, music, and instruments in Lekkidi, Ottapalam, had conducted online classes during the Lockdown. “Our youngest student is a girl from Class 3 and we have senior citizens also learning from us,” said Soman. “Many artistes like me received financial help from the art lovers, private organisations and Kathakali clubs. It helped me pay my team and manage the expenses. We cannot completely depend on government all the time.” He also performed three shows online since the month of September with the ensemble following all precautions. “30 of my shows got cancelled due to the pandemic. So, I was happy to finally be able to perform at least online after a long time, even though I was not able to interact with the audience directly.”

Another artiste, Kalamandalam Jayachandran (46), who completed his course in Kathakali from Kerala Kalamandalam, has been performing for over 25 years. “The programmes resume usually during Onam celebrations [late August], but they didn't this year. It was already difficult to survive with the meagre earnings from the shows and the pandemic made it even more difficult. We are paid based on the budget of the organisers, due to low demand and more competition. We cannot demand a price for the fear of losing a chance to perform. Now, I do some odd jobs like work at the rubber plantation to earn some money.” Jayachandran mostly performs Kathi (meaning knife), depicting valorous characters with good and evil traits, and Vella Thaadi (white beard), where he depicts solely virtuous characters.

Kathakali requires intricate makeup—veshams—a three to five-hour long process that helps the audience understand the character being portrayed by the performer. There are five basic veshams based on facial makeup: Pacha, Kathi, Kari, Thaadi, and Minukku. The pacha (green) makeup with green colour portrays noble male characters like Krishna and Ram. Kathi (knife) also has green makeup, but with a red mark on the cheek painted like a knife, and white knobs on tips of the noses and foreheads to depict valorous and evil characters. The kari (black) veshams have artistes with jet-black facial painting with red dots and white markings depicting demons. Minukku (radiant) veshams on the other hand have artistes with yellowish faces portraying women and saint-like characters. Thaadi (beard) veshams can be sub-categorised into three types: chuvanna thaadi (red beards) that depict extremely evil characters; vella thaadi (white beard) depicting highly spiritual characters like Hanuman; and karutha thadi (black beard), depicting primitive beings like forest dwellers and hunters.

Other members of the dance ensemble of Kathakali, including makeup artists and maddalam players are also facing the brunt of the pandemic. Suresh Thottara who does mainly makeup for child artistes, switched to stitching masks and selling Indian spices to households in his neighbourhood in Palakkad district after the pandemic to manage expenses. However, he faced some unforeseen issues regarding the health of his 82-year-old mother, and was since forced to take loans from his friends and relatives.

Kalamandalam Soman teaching Kathakali at his school.

Kalamandalam Soman teaching Kathakali at his school.

“I learned the importance of money during the Lockdown,” said Thottara. “Until the pandemic, I didn't think about finances much, as I am so deeply passionate and invested in the art. I was able to manage my expenses with the earning from the shows and pay for the medical care of my mother, though there wouldn't be any money left to be saved.”

His mother had a heart attack during the lockdown and he had to immediately admit her to the hospital for an angioplasty. “It cost me more than ₹70,000,” he said. “She has four blocks in her heart and the doctor could fix only one major block with angioplasty due to her ill health. Once the condition of her body improves, she will have to undergo bypass surgery. Her check-ups and medicines would cost around ₹10,000 a month. So, I started stitching and selling masks at ₹40 each; but when other people started selling them for as low as ₹5 and ₹10, I couldn't sell mine anymore, and got into making homemade masala powders and selling them. The government then made it mandatory to have FoSCoS certification and licence to sell food items. I have completed all the registration process for it and awaiting certification.”

Prabal Gupta, a 45-year-old Kathakali artiste says the pandemic did not just affect artistes like him financially, but also took a toll on his mental and emotional health. From having jampacked shows to no shows and zero interaction with the audience for months, he felt that his ‘soul had died’. “Live stage performances are an integral part of performance art like Kathakali,” said Gupta. “We artistes live and die on stage. Without shows for months, I was deeply affected emotionally and mentally. Two weeks ago, while recording a performance in an auditorium for a broadcast, I felt exhausted after just one piece of 19 minutes.”

Watching Kathakali can be an out-of-the-world experience. In his latest performance, Gupta adorned ‘streevesham’ to portray Damayanti, a character in the Mahabharata enjoying the beauty of the garden at Nala kingdom, at the online Udayaraga Festival of Dance. Clad in bright green attire and yellow colour makeup on the face, his elaborate hand and eye movements against different backdrops with dreamy pink, blue and bright white light was picture perfect. 

Kathakali is usually blended with few stunts from the centuries-old martial arts Kalaripayattu that can transport the viewer into and state of trance. As the dance is defined by its body language and mudras, it perhaps resonates more with those who may not be able to fully express themselves, including dancers who are speech or hearing-impaired. The dance can be engrossing, the body language communicates without words. The performance can distort the passage of time, transport audiences elsewhere, away from the daily existential crises of their lives.

Perhaps, time will heal the wounds of the deadlock on performances and bring back the joy on the faces of both the performers and their admirers. As the Lockdown rules have been slowly relaxed, the red eyes of these artistes—against the green background of their painted faces—now stand out, glimmering with hope.

***


Akhila Damodaran is a freelance journalist, content writer and travel blogger based out of Bengaluru. She has about six years of experience in journalism, covering civic issues, education, health, history, food, art and culture, travel and more for national dailies including the The New Indian Express. You can find her on Twitter: @akhila_damodar and Instagram: @akhi_india.

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