Kathakali buffs in the capital city were treated to a sumptuous performance of ‘Santhanagopalam’. Composed by Mandavappalli Ittiraricha Menon (1747-94), a distinguished courtier of Karthika Thirunal Maharaja of erstwhile Travancore, it is a popular story, one among the few considered as ‘saathvika’ (virtuous), since, unlike most other Kathakali plays, it avoids negative characters who mostly revel in fighting or bloodshed.
The performance commenced immediately after both the wicks on the big lamp were ritualistically lit while the blowing of a sacred conch reverberated three times. Then Margi Rathnakaran, maddalam maestro, positioned himself near the lamp and presented a short keli (‘announcement’). Thereafter, following a brief introductory raga alapana that brought out most of the salient features of Kedaaragaulam , Pathiyoor Sankarankutty, commendably assisted by Kalamandalam Krishnakumar, rendered in the same raga Kottayam Thampuran’s famous vandana slokam (invocatory verse) ‘Maatamgaananam…’.
Usually the audience takes all such preliminaries for granted. But the graceful elaboration of the raga gave Kathakali aficionados a taste of what was to follow. The rendition of the padam ‘Naathhaa bhavachcharana…’ in Devagandharam, articulated Arjuna’s unparalleled devotion to Lord Krishna. Sankarankutty provided equal attention even to the subtlest part of the play text. In breathing life into the play text, Kalamandalam Krishnakumar followed Sankarankutty dexterously, syllable by syllable.
Margi Vijayakumar donned the role of the dominant character of the pious Brahmin householder who had lost eight sons in eight years. When he lost his ninth son also, he appeared in Krishna’s court and sought his protection.
Vijayakumar’s presentation was superb. His entry was in perfect synchrony with the special percussion composition known as ‘patinja kitatakadhim taam’ beautifully played by Kalamandalam Krishnadas and Margi Rathnakaran on the chenda and the maddalam, respectively. Subsequently he moved from the slowest speed to the faster and the fastest in five steps building to the climax.
He vividly brought out the futility of his miserable struggle to get the attention of the Lord in whose all-controlling power only he had unflinching belief. Doubling the tempo while counting on his fingers the number of children he had lost and by returning at the end of the charanam to its original tempo appropriately underscored his resentment over what he thought was Krishna’s arrogance, on seeing the Lord’s apparently cultivated indifference or passiveness toward his entreaties.
Subtle sarcasm exuded the corner of Vijayakumar’s right eye while listening to Arjuna’s egoistic words of consolation, assuring him that even if Krishna and his kin turn a deaf ear to his sorrow, he, being Indra’s son, the ever-victorious, endowed with divine weapons, the lustrous, principled and compassionate, would protect the Brahmin’s next son from death.
Above all, the inner meaning of the episode is that even the strongest human being becomes weaker as he moves away from the Almighty. Vijayakumar’s presentation portrayed all such points with clarity.
Kalamandalam Sreekumar, Kalamandalam Rajeevan, Kalamandalam Sudeep and Margi Raveendran Nair essayed the roles of Arjuna, Krishna, the Brahmin’s wife and old midwife, respectively. They vied with each other in contributing their best. Chenda by Kalamandalam Krishnadas, as always, embroidered context-sensitive sound patterns to the performance texture.
The play was performed under the aegis of Drisyavedi.
