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When people come to India to visit, they’re often bewildered as to why I’m living here. They see poverty, desperation and the overwhelming dirtiness and chaos of a country bursting at the seams.
It’s all these things. But with the negatives of more than a billion people, also comes an unfettered cultural vibrancy, which differs from state to state. In India, whether it’s in someone’s house or blaring from roadside speakers, art and culture is a part of everyday life. It’s such a commonplace experience, that it often accompanies little fanfare.
When we were in Varkala, a beach town resort in the southern state of Kerala, we walked past a tent where they were holding nightly shows of kathakali – a classical dance-drama of the state, which dates from the 17th century.
On first glance the production looked flimsy. We sat on plastic deck chairs, facing a makeshift stage with a single incandescent bulb floating overhead. The supplied brochure didn’t fill me with much confidence either.
“This is truthful information. A daily kathakali is the really one. It is not a CD player programme. This is doing daily in our theatre, not like the beach resort and dining hall. This is a real like kathakali doing like in temples with live drums and live music. A daily one is with three dancers two drammers one singer and one story teller. Total seven people. Music doing with CD player for kathakali is equal to killing the great art. A real artist never do this. Realise the fact. Do not fell in trap with CD.”
Clearly, CDs are the work of the devil, but what of kathakali?
The general jist is that it’s an ancient artform that retels classic stories through dance and music. But it’s no Sound of Music. The actors themselves remain strangely mute, with the musicians doing the singing. Instead, the performers rely on exagerrated facial expressions and elaborate hand movements to tell the story.
The good character is masked in elaborate green makeup and a white beard. While the bad character is painted in black and red. Both wear bulky, ornate costumes which leave them looking like over-fed babushka dolls.
The makeup takes hours to apply and is a combination of natural materials, like rice paste, lime and coconut oil. They even place a herb, chundappoo in the eyes of the good character to fill them with a blood red colour.
