KOCHI: He was settled snugly on his grandmother’s hip when he first came face-to-face with the god. The god was resplendent in red, glowing, dancing… he froze, wide-eyed.
Thus began K K Gopalakrishnan’s fascination with the ritual artform of Theyyam.
Hailing from a matrilineal family that has been one of the prominent patrons of the artform, Gopalakrishnan was heavily exposed from childhood to the intricacies of Theyyam, often described simply as the “dance of the gods”.
That boy, who grew up immersed in this artform, went on to become a scholar, photographer, writer, former director of the Centre for Kutiyattam of the Sangeet Natak Akademi, and is now director of the South Zone Cultural Centre under the Union government.
Gopalakrishnan’s book is a treatise on Theyyam, covering its history, progression, various forms, nuances, etc. It’s a visual treat, too, with well-curated selection of his own clicks.
In a way, the work for the book began in his formative years, when he watched and interacted with the artists. “This artform is performed by the marginalised sections of society, by people from around 15 scheduled castes,” says Gopalakrishnan.
Most Theyyams are performed by Vannan and Malayan artists. “After suffering injustices for around 364 days of the year, it’s the one day when they become the god. And the upper-caste landlords will bow to them, just for that day,” he notes.
This aspect was something he became aware of as a child. Beneath the glitter and the vibrant red lies an uncomfortable truth.
In Theyyam, he adds, there is both the personification of the god and the deification of the individual. Gopalakrishnan’s book delves deeply into these themes, exploring both subtle and major differences between various types of Theyyam, the stories behind them, the regions to which they belong, and the associated rituals, beginning with the etymology of the name.
“The word ‘Theyyam’ can be traced back to the Malayalam word ‘Daivam’ (god). Theyyam predates organised Hinduism and upholds the prominence of Dravidian ritual artistry,” he writes in the book.
The pageantry of the makeup and costume culminates in a moment when the artist sees himself in the mirror. The painted face, glowing eyes, jangling ornaments — everything fills the frame. “That’s ‘mukha darshanam’, the moment of transformation when he invokes the god and becomes the deity. That’s when he becomes Theyyam,” Gopalakrishnan explains.
The performance begins soon after. During the performance, the artist achieves the famous trance-like state. “Theyyam is not just ritualistic; it’s also entertainment. The artist goes into a trance and traverses spiritual lines for around 90 minutes of the performance. The rest of the time he is aware and is also performing,” says Gopalakrishnan.
Ritual and entertainment are equally crucial in this folk-ritual theatre. “Here, the elements of strong belief, parapsychology, and shamanism meet,” he says.
In his research, Gopalakrishnan has identified over a hundred variations of Theyyam. It is not easily countable, he says.
One Theyyam, performed in his family, is known as Kannan Nambiar, in honour of an ancestor. “It is said that an elephant trampled him to death,” he says.
“Like this, there are many theyyams about a particular person from a family, created for various reasons. These are innumerable.”
This type of Theyyam is known as ‘aatmavu aradhana (spirit worship)’, Gopalakrishnan notes. The book also covers ‘ithihasa kadhapathra aradhana (worship of historical figures)’. Such worship is popular across the state, from Muchilott Bhagavati and Akko Chamundi (performed in Gopalakrishnan’s family) to Kathivanur Veeran.
“Each story also reflects the socio-political and economic nature of the region in which it is performed. It’s a reflection of social realities as well,” he says.
At Gopalakrishnan’s family estate, Kamballoore Kottayil, which has a history of over 300 years of patronising the art form, they also perform Mappila Theyyam, alongside Akko Chamundi — demonstrating the porous boundaries among the subaltern.
This sheer variety is difficult to categorise, he explains in the book, which is deeply rooted in the past and in regional myths.
In the book, he undertakes a near-impossible task, yet succeeds admirably, introducing readers to some of the prominent performers, such as Murali Pannikar and Kunharan Peruvannan. The latter, sadly, is now left with a knee amputated due to an accident while performing.
From the origin tale of Pottan Theyyam, where a man from a marginalised caste argued with Adi Shankara about untouchability and Chaturvarnya — and was ultimately killed by oppressors — to the patronage of Chirakkal Thampuran, Gopalakrishnan records many fascinating facets of the art form.
“Though there have been multiple books about Theyyam, most are riddled with inaccuracies. That is what prompted me to begin this mammoth task,” he says.
After nearly four years of research, the book, released this month, invites readers to explore and understand this mysterious ritual artform, where the god literally descends to earth, becoming tangible and touchable to mere mortals.
Theyyam, Indian Folk Ritual Theatre - An Insider’s Vision by K K Gopalakrishnan
Publisher: Niyogi Books
Price: Rs 6,000
