Karthika Thirunal Rama Varma Maharaja of erstwhile Travancore (1758-98), who authored several Kathakali plays and the treatise on dramaturgy, entitled Balaramabharatham , ushered into the centre stage of Kathakali colossal kathi (with anti-hero qualities) characters such as Narakasura and Jarasandha, exuding heroic and erotic sentiments and reigning over the domain even today.
Mandavappalli Ittiraricha Menon, a poet in tutelage of the Maharaja, however, chose to bring to the limelight virtuous (saathvik) characters only, who were embodiments of unswerving devotion to Lord Vishnu. And in no time, both his plays, ‘Santhanagopalam’ and ‘Rugmangadacharitham’, became quite popular with rasikas at all levels. The principal characters in them (Brahmin, Arjuna, Rugmangada and Mohini) became the favourite roles of star performers.
The introductory quatrain in ‘Santhanagopalam’, narrating Lord Krishna’s living in all splendour in the prosperous city of Dwaraka, gained recognition as the most suitable for use even in a so called ‘half prologue’ (pakuthipurappaadu) staged in a full-length performance of Kathakali. Arranging the play as an offering to the deity of Lord Krishna is believed to yield the boon of uninterrupted lineage (‘Santhana’ means both lineage as well as the celestial tree granting all the desires; ‘gopala’ is literally the protector of cows or followers.)
A recent performance of ‘Santhanagopalam’ under the aegis of Drisyavedi proved enjoyable throughout on account of the total involvement of well-trained artistes who were assigned crucial roles.
Peesappalli Rajeevan who donned the character of the Brahmin proved his unquestionable dexterity in handling such a role, revealing one by one the multiple levels of the intrinsic complexity of the character. His very entry into Krishna’s court, holding his ninth son’s body in his arms, after losing eight sons in eight years, captured the undivided attention of the audience.
In a futile attempt to instigate the Lord to discard his cultivated indifference and to spring into action, he resorted to sarcasm by saying that Krishna’s responsibility of continually pleasing more than 16,000 wives and their children was ever increasing and as such he had no time to protect his subjects.
In the context of the whole assembly, including Krishna and Balabhadra, turning a deaf ear to the tale of woe, the Brahmin’s response to Arjuna’s offer of help was singularly cautious. At the outset it was total rejection; it culminated in steadfast reliance when, although to please the Brahmin, Arjuna vowed at Krishna’s feet that he would protect the next child of the Brahmin, failing which he would, with his famous bow, jump into a fire and destroy himself.
Treading a refreshing path in conformity with the context and unlike the presentation of several senior artistes, Peesappalli’s Brahmin, did not burst into anger towards Arjuna when the latter flatly refused the devoted Brahmin’s earnest request that he should vow at the feet of Krishna who was none other than Lord Vishnu. Begging for the fulfilment of his humble prayer to the ace archer who was also the Lord’s dear brother-in-law, the poor Brahmin stood bending before him with stretched arms and cupped hands, while drops of sweat could be seen dripping on the floor from his right elbow, testifying to the extremity of his exertion and intensity of his absolute self surrender in order to achieve what he believed, he deserved.
On and off he carefully reminded the great warrior that mere boasting won’t yield anything worthy, since, as is well known, Arjuna, representing Nara (man) would be miserably powerless if separated from Narayana, the Almighty. Making this vital point of the play crystal clear placed Peesappalli’s presentation at the pinnacle of excellence. The artistes who presented the other characters, (Kalamandalam Pradip as Arjuna, RLV Pramod as Krishna and Kalamandalam Sudip as the Brahmin’s wife) did justice to their respective roles by visualising the concerned portions of the text, although their performance was, in general, sans any trace of imaginative improvisation. Margi Ravindran Nair, enacting the old midwife in a conventionally comic style, entered from the left and on being invited by the Brahmin to his residence, the old woman’s momentary doubt placing her eyes on the pot belly of the Brahmin, as to who was in labour brought in a pleasant shine of humour.
The percussion handled by Sadanam Ramakrishnan (chenda) and Margi Raveendran (maddalam) was exceptionally context-sensitive and provided good accompaniment to the performance.
The commendably collaborative team of Pathiyoor Sankaran Kutty and Kalanilayam Rajeevan rendered the play text into impeccable classical music charged with emotion in consonance with the acting.
Together they created the virtual effect of an exquisite classical music concert, confined to the accompaniment of just percussion, characteristic of the native tradition of Kerala.
In scenes depicting the Brahmin who pours out his disillusionment and anger on learning that even his new-born son was lost, Krishna’s striving to dissuade Arjuna from immolating himself, and finally the Brahmin’s apology to Narayana and Nara for his earlier rude words to them, Sankaran Kutty and Rajeevan, reminiscent of the unique style of the late Kalamandalam Haridas, carefully wove into the concerned ragas a few strains of specific intonation patterns common in colloquial Malayalam.
