As the strains of Begada was being explored, softly at first, a woman wrapped up in fabric got ready to roll across the entire space (anga-pradakshanam-like), even as she slowly established the character she was planning to enact - “I am Draupadi”, she said.
The whole play, ‘Shakti-k-koothu’ (Rhythm of light), was based on interweaving - of ideas, of roles, of context, of dialogue, of varied arts such as music, dance, theatre, painting, of actors and viewers, all active participants.
Spaces (the late Chandralekha’s gift to the arts world) lent itself beautifully to this play, for an intimate interplay was made more effective because of its aura and not merely the ambience.
With simple, but effective props, sensitive lighting (Dr. C. Raveendran), the play began with a brief introduction about its storyline. What makes a familiar story interesting is its interpretation in a newer context, and that is exactly what Prasanna Ramaswamy succeeded in doing – juxtaposing her own writing with the established texts and sources such as Avvai, Bharatiyar, Dikshitar and so on.
Revathy Kumar walked and performed around the stage, even as she sang Carnatic ragas such as Khamas, Mohanam and Kaanada effortlessly.
The one to steal the show was Rohini, who was completely in sync with the character. The roles interwove at various stages - if she was the singer creating the mood first, she then became the companion, and then a male counterpart.
In theatre, cues are given from the wings and using that aspect, Rohini gave a cue to the singer from the stage, as if to draw out the singer from the wings, when she said: “Aah, Khamas paadu” ! It was this interplay that reminded one of the behind-the-scene-players in theatre, who perform important roles too but are seldom noticed. The visualisation of elements through music and dance, and the powerful imagery of horrifying tales painted on fabric (Krishnapriya and Vasuhan) blended seamlessly.
Just as the musical notes moved with ease from classical to folk (with the dynamic percussion support given by Nellai Manikandan), Rohini would take off, at times, from the note on which Revathy had ended, and continue to dance keeping in step with rhythm - in her body, feet and dialogue delivery, simultaneously.
Even if the story was based on the disrobing of Draupadi, the powerful heroine of Mahabharata, the characterisation touched new heights of sensitivity. It seemed to strike a chord with the audience, perhaps making them ask themselves if they have ever been mute spectators to a crime. She even seemed to answer a question - should it have risen in some minds- about her own costume (which did not fit into natyam, nor koothu). She drove home a point, when she said: “And these men say, it is the dress that was responsible for provoking the thought of rape”- the tragedy that we face today is that the crime is not criticised - it is justified or rationalised!
Juxtaposing the many incidents that had taken place in history and placing in context not only the outrageous rape of helpless women, the rape of the elements around us, and the self-imposed impotency of ours as mute bystanders witnessing the everyday crime scenario, Prasanna Ramaswamy through her direction and the talented team of artists managed to set the audience thinking.
