Melam harmonises several percussion and wind instruments to create a rhythmic extravaganza during the festival season in central Kerala. This genre of temple percussion is inextricably linked to culturally vibrant venues such as Peruvanam, Arattupuzha, Kuttanalloor and Thrissur.
The history of Kerala’s indigenous music unravels the real-life story of many eminent artistes whose sacred mission was the preservation and promotion of melam. Most of them had a hand-to-mouth existence. They did not care about fame or fortune. Of them, Chakkamkulam Appu Marar and Thripekulam Achuta Marar, perhaps the last two titans, were able to experience a little of the incredible attention and recognition melam began to gain towards the closing years of the last century. Yet, by that time their heyday was over.
In the next generation of drummers, Peruvanam Kuttan Marar is a name to reckon with, mainly because of his insurmountable prowess in ensuring harmony and exactitude in all the eminent melams he has spearheaded. Instinct, rigorous practise and incessant interactions with a number of stalwarts for many years enriched the career of Kuttan Marar as an eloquent percussionist.
Hailing from a family that belonged to a community linked to percussion in temples, Kuttan Marar grew up listening to and participating in a host of liturgical practices associated with indigenous percussion instruments. Apart from his father, Peruvanam Appu Marar, he had his training on the chenda under the renowned guru Kumarapuram Appu Marar. Sreenarayanapuram Appu Marar groomed him in Kathakali melam. Kuttan had developed a taste not only for Thayambaka and Kathakali melam but also for thavil too in his boyhood days. In those days, temple music was primarily meant for the deities. Those who listened to the endless repetitions of vocal music or drums in the temples were guided more by devotion than by an aesthetic propensity. Such an ambience instilled in Kuttan a deep sense of obligation towards various genres of temple music unmindful of any feedback from the audience.
Kuttan had played with all the surviving titans in the field of melam as a junior player for decades before he was accorded the prerogative to become the helmsman. The Paandi and Panchari melams of the poorams such as Peruvanam, Arattupuzha, Kuttanalloor and Thrissur received massive appreciation under the stewardship of Kuttan. Of these, Elanjithara Melam at Sree Vadakkumnatha Temple in Thrissur boosted the fame and fortune of Kuttan much beyond his expectation. To the south of Thrissur, he has been leading the melams at Siva Temple, Ernakulam, and Poornathrayeesa Temple, Tripunithura. For all those associated with the temple and the festivities there, Kuttan Marar is a household name.
Tonal clarity, precision and a chiselled execution of nerkkol (vertical beat on the central surface of the chenda) and urulukol (ennams formed by the slow, medium and fast movements of the stick on the chenda) are hallmarks of Kuttan’s artistry. Through an enduring process of trial and error, he has been able to master the tonal nuances that augment the Paandi, Panchari, Chembada, Anchadantha and Dhruva Melams. In the initiation and sustenance of the tempos, Kuttan shows an enviable acumen, resulting in the structural solidity and sculpturesque grace of the melam he steers.
Kuttan has successfully pushed the boundaries of the melam by making it accessible to temples in south Kerala and in the cultural festivities held outside India, especially in West Asia. Notable recognitions Kuttan has won so far include Padmashri, Pallavoor Appu Marar Puraskaram instituted by the Government of Kerala, fellowship from the Kerala Sangeeta Nataka Akademi and several other honours from different private organisations.
His gregarious and unassuming character has endeared him to lovers of melam. Together with talent and perseverance, Kuttan feels that the pre-eminence he enjoys in the field is the result of blessings he was fortunate to receive from the deities of the prominent temples where he leads the melam every year.
Edited excerpts from an interview with the artiste:
Of all the genres of percussion ensembles in Kerala, melam has, perhaps, been the least susceptible to conspicuous alterations. Yet there has been changes. How do you perceive those changes?
Till a quarter century ago, the inimitable masters of the melam were definitely more inclined towards slow tempos, which necessitated a chenda with less tension on the surface. This facilitated a broader bass, ensuring more range for the recital. The listeners then, for the most part, were informed rasikas . Over the years, slow tempos have registered a decline. A heavily tightened chenda, both edamthala (left surface) and valamthala (right surface) and a tendency for fast tempos are the dictates of most melam today. The listeners are a mix of the learned and the uninitiated. Time has effected the changes that redefined the equation between practitioners and listeners. A return to the erstwhile culture of the melam is difficult now, if not impossible.
Connoisseurs like the late KPC Narayanan Bhattatiripad have expressed their disenchantment over the unwarranted rise in tempo of the ‘theerukalasam’ (the concluding beats in the final tempo of the melam concerned). Do you agree?
As Pramaani (helmsman) of the Panchari Melam my father had been pretty strict on the consistent rise in tempos, third, fourth and fifth. I am following the same pattern. The rule is observed as stringently as possible even today, though there might have have been exceptions.
For the Paandi Melam, especially the one at Elanjithara, there have been instances of the theerukalasams either slackening a little or becoming a bit too fast. Elathalam (cymbals) players and the Valamthala players, once in a while, compel us to go in for such undesirable alterations.
For the ‘Koottiperukkal’ (combined performance of the percussion and wind instruments), the Pramaani has to see that there is no room for discrepancy that affects the syntax of the melam. Hence he needs to be flexible in his attitude, which should not be considered a weakness at all.
Do you approve of someone appearing as Pramaani in a melam solely on account of his popularity in mass media?
For those who have been trained in Thayambaka and Keli, playing for the melam is not a big deal. But only those who have consistently played for years along with the maestros would be competent to become the Pramaani. So the stature and space of a Pramaani call for multiple capabilities. Popularity in any entertainment medium is no criteria for credibility and recognition in a glorious tradition like the melam.
Temples of South Kerala don’t have a tradition of Melam, Thayambaka or Panchavadyam. Instead, the temples accommodated nagaswaram and thavil. Now, the melam seems to have replaced the significance of the two musical instruments. As a regular invitee to festivals of some of the major temples, how do you view this cultural transition?
Devotees and festival committee organisers of the temples in South Kerala evince a keen interest in Melam and Thayambaka these days. Although the temples in Kottayam, Alappuzha and Kollam do not have a ritualistic compulsion to conduct the melam, people there appreciate the melam now. It may be because we no longer have many icons in nagaswaram and thavil in Kerala. I don’t think there is anything wrong in presenting the melam in temples in South Kerala.
In terms of popularity, no other melams are on a par with Panchari and Paandi. What makes these two special?
Panchari is laya-dominant and, therefore, it is very listener friendly. Paandi is immensely vibrant and loud so as to attract all and sundry. Other melams like Dhruvam or Anchadantha are complex and, therefore, demanding. At the same time, Adantha Melam is closely embedded in temple rituals.
Mattannoor Sankarankutty has measured the melam as a simple musical genre. How much do you identify with this sense of simplicity of the melam?
Mattannoor is right. The training for the melam is easy. But to become a Pramaani in the melam, one needs to be industrious, experienced, committed, ingenious and broad-minded.
All the Pramaanis of yore possessed these qualities.
