How does one encapsulate a life spent in theatre, particularly, when it is on theatre personality, Kavalam Narayana Panicker? Aesthetics of Sanskrit theatre, folk performance practices, martial arts, music and percussion, cadences from dialects, to mention a few of the elements that are integral to his productions, call for a paring when it comes to incorporating these into a 47-minute documentary.
After watching Spatial Rhythms by Shivamohan Thampi, the question foremost in the mind was, ‘How did you confine Kavalam’s method of deploying rhythm within the ‘time’ and ‘space’ in his productions?’
A clear understanding of the ever present sense of rhythms was discernible as the film progressed. Thampi, who was a percussionist with Kavalam’s troupe for 15 years, had always been mesmerised by the manner in which the two were aligned within the context, to communicate.
“I was aware that he has been the subject of many documentaries. While I had always nurtured the dream of documenting rhythmic patterns in the Kavalam school of theatre, it required intense homework on a feasible script which would aid understanding the function of rhythm within the Time and Space in his plays,” said Thampi.
The Kuttanadan pace of life sets in early in the film – the threshing, the winnowing, the measuring, planting and harvesting, each carries its own cadence. For the man known as the harbinger of the theatre of roots, these beats imbue his creations with a life giving energy which is pristine and tethered to Mother Earth.
Drawing from the plays, particularly, ‘Avanavan Kadamba’, ‘Theyya Theyyam’, ‘Maaya’ and ‘Karnabhaaram’, the film explores the manner in which the actors use their bodies and the space to demarcate and define their arena for performance. The synergy created with inputs from music, vocal gestures and physical movement in the extracts from ‘Avanavan Kadamba’ have been incorporated here. The use of the ‘thiraseela’, the traditional curtain, set aside the method of using the large curtain to create the definite divide between the audience and the stage.
Kavalam was drawing on methods from Kerala’s traditional performing arts when he relied on the thiraseela to chalk out the space which was not confined to a quadrangular area.
Interspersing visuals from the plays with the playwright-dramatist elaborating on the evolution of his theatre practices lends credence and fills in the blanks for the lay viewer. The success of Spatial Rhythms lies in the balance it has struck between the two – the plays and Kavalam’s elucidations.
The quality of the narration, both in content and delivery, has added to the final product. Jithin Thampi’s voice modulation and clear diction have aided in leading the viewer through the film.
Spatial Rhythms was possible because Roy P. Antony offered to produce the film, adds Shivamohan Thampi.
Quite evidently, it has been a tightrope walk for the director, considering that he was associated with Kavalam’s troupe. The film scores because it has risen above the run-of-the mill documentaries on personalities, with not a dull moment, and, acquired a soul of its own.
Drawing inspiration from his roots
‘Total theatre’, ‘Theatre of Roots’, ‘Ensemble Theatre’, these words recur in any conversation with the well-known dramatist, theatre director and poet, Kavalam Narayana Panicker. His plays are multidimensional, carrying within it the pulsating rhythms and timbre of the rural landscape of Kerala.
Drawing on his little village of Kavalam as the wellspring, he has enriched his productions with stylisation carried forward from Sanskrit drama and traditional performing arts. Kavalam’s theatre practices tend to approach the aesthetic of Indian theatre free from the influence of the West.
Art, according to Kavalam, uses life as a springboard, and the life he draws on is fast receding. But, he culls from memory, returns to his roots to connect and revive, to incorporate these elements in his plays. “Change is not confined to the countryside. The village is a dream. Yet, I return as one does on a pilgrimage. The separation becomes a catalyst for the rootedness,” he elaborates, explaining his ability to draw on this cumulative inheritance.
Kavalam captures the rhythm in the minutest of movements and locates the music in it too. He does draw on the classical ragas, but there is a metamorphosis that it undergoes quite often. In the visualisation of the raga-tala combine it is a ‘thirodhanakriya’ that is employed, wherein the raga is used but is so evolved that locating the raga in the new form may not be possible. An erasure, or a state of ‘asabdam’ exists between the original and the emergence of the new.’
“A similar transformation is material,” says Kavalam, “when an actor takes on character: the transformation of the character from within is a process in which there has to be a neutral point, a transformational methodology that is present only in theatre. The self-effacement is inevitable to successfully get under the skin of the character.”
Kavalam’s theatre productions have relied on a host of Sanskrit plays. For him a play under production is a democratic exercise where the director has an open mind, and the play emerges from exchanges and consultation amongst the members of the troupe. The mental and physical preparation of an actor is a prerequisite to extracting the best for the role. Therefore agility, stage presence are acquired through kalari practice.
Every conversation with Kavalam Narayana Panicker is a reminder that local theatre traditions nourished by the folk forms, myths and legends, traditional and classical practices, provide a rich source for modern day Indian theatre.
