KOCHI: For connoisseurs of traditional arts in Kerala, Kapila Venu would need little introduction. As one of the foremost practitioners of Kutiyattam, one of the oldest surviving forms of theatre in the world, she has held performances across the world, enthralling audiences everywhere. In a brief chat with City Express, Kapila opens up on what it takes to be a full-time practitioner of the art form, as well as balancing life and art.
Being a practitioner of Kutiyattom, have you ever felt intimidated by the prospect of carrying on the legacy of an art form that stretches back more than 2,000 years?
My initiation into Kutiyattam was a very natural one. I did not choose to become a performer after understanding the true value or antiquity of the art form. My parents were passionately involved in the study of it and therefore I was fortunate enough to be exposed to it too. It is much later that I gradually began to understand the depth of the tradition and the complexity of its theatre language. No, I wouldn’t say that I am intimidated but I do realise that to carry on such a great tradition is a huge responsibility and a daunting task in today’s fast changing society.
You were also trained in Mohiniyattom under the tutelage of your mother Nirmala Panicker, a renowned Mohiniyattom artiste. What made you choose a career in Kutiyattom?
I always knew deep within that Kutiyattam would be my chosen path. It was a difficult process to focus on one form when you have also spent a lot of time training in another, but it had to be done and I succeeded finally. The reason being very simple that a form like Kutiyattam demands from an artiste total surrender to it.
Becoming a Kutiyattom artiste involves intensive training. How was it to train under Guru Ammanur Madhava Chakyar?
It was one of my greatest good fortunes to train under a great master like Guru Ammannur. He was an unconditional and generous teacher. My intense training with him lasted only for a few years but what I have imbibed from it will last with me and my performance for a lifetime. My main class with ashan used to be around 10 am everyday. I have fond memories of waiting for him every morning in the kalari while he would have gone to look out for his cow in the fields. Classes always ended with stories and legends. Training in general was unhurried. There was no syllabus to cover or deadlines to meet. We progressed slowly.
Kutiyattam performances traditionally stretched to almost nine hours through the night. How did you strike balance between compressing the duration of the performance while retaining the purity of the art form?
Kutiyattam is really meant for a spectator who is willing to spend the time it takes to watch a performance. The essence of the performance lies in long drawn out elaborations of moments, emotions or words and intensely explores the power of stillness and minimal movement, all of which takes time. It would be too simplistic to say that previously performances lasted nine hours and now they don’t. Different plays have different durations. It is however true that performers today face a crisis with duration. There are fewer opportunities to present plays in their full length which usually lasts for several nights at a stretch. One usually gets invited to perform for a single night for a duration from about 90 minutes to four hours. However, on the bright side many of the Kutiyattam performers today are taking their own initiative to create opportunities to perform full length plays. I see this as a very positive trend.
Besides being a full-time Kutiyattam artiste, you are also a mother. How do you balance these roles?
One of the greatest benefits of being a self-employed practitioner of a traditional art form is that it allows the space for one to embrace a slow and organic lifestyle. I experience this most profoundly after having a baby because I find that I am able to accommodate him quite comfortably in my performance life. I have heard that Nangiaramma-s(female performers of Kutiyattam) have been managing motherhood and performance quite well for centuries, breastfeeding their babies in the green room between performance sequences. So life goes on pretty much manageably.