Dance for the gander: A different kind of Kathakali

It was a Kathakali routine like no other. Probal Gupta's two-hour Manasa Charitam was not from the canon of 101 classical Kathakali stories – such as Duryodhanavadham (the destruction of Duryodhana), Nalacharitham (the tale of Nala-Damayanti), Kalyanasougandhikam (Bhima's search for the saugandhika flower) or Keechakavadham (the killing of Keechaka).

Instead, his black and gold mudi (costume) pointed to tribal snake goddess Manasa, worshipped in faraway Bengal. Gupta's rendition of Manasamangal Kavya – about Manasa trying to wrest Shiva devotee Chand Sadagar – was inspired by Bengali Pattachitra paintings.

This was a jugalbandi between a fine art and performing art.

"And why not? Why can't a painting and dance form unfold in tandem?" asks the 40-year-old of his April 22 performance for the Mudra Dance Festival at the National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA). "We must have wider horizons if we want both to survive."

Manasa Charitam isn't Gupta's only tryst with an 'outside' story in the framework of Kerala's most famous dance theatre form. In 2014-15, he brought Shakespearean tragedies Macbeth and Antony and Cleopatra to the realm of the aattakatha (Kathakali libretto). The experimentation isn't limited to katha. His kali (dance) or execution for select works is a variety of confluences: Kathakali and Odissi for When Parallels Meet and Malenadu-region folk theatre form Yakshagana, Odissi and Kathakali for Tagore's Shyama.

The melding of Shakespeare and Kathakali is not novel. Arjun Raina's group, The Magic Hour, famously executed A Midsummer Night's Dream in Khelkali (experimental Kathakali). London's Globe Theatre staged King Lear in Kathakali as far back as 1999. And Gupta's own guru, Sadanam Balakrishnan, has performed Othello this way.

Both Shakespeare's works and aattakatha are lyrical, emerged around 16th-17th century AD and revolve around themes of choice, justice and self-discovery. It's easy to understand why one appeals to the other.

But in playing Lady Macbeth, Cleopatra, Manasa and other titular women in solo routines, Probal Gupta is bringing stree vesham (female characters) to the fore in an art form that revolves around purusha vesham (male characters).

"When I moved to Bangalore in 2003, I had no access to purusha vesham costumes and chutti (make-up)," remembers Gupta, who trained under Kalamandalam Calcutta doyen Govindan Kutty for 16 years. A crisis situation – Gupta first trained for purusha vesham, as all Kathakali exponents are – became a blessing in disguise, allowing him to focus on the evolution of the stree vesham. For this, he turned to P.N. 'Fact' Padmanabhan Pillai. "I haven't touched purusha vesham since," Gupta smiles.

"I'd 'rested' six months before learning Kathakali under Kalamandalam Govindan Kutty," he remembers of his first guru. "Because I had to get Bharatanatyam out of my system."

Gupta was trained in Bharatanatyam, Odissi and Mohiniyattam, but it was Bharatanatyam the guru was concerned about.

"Because Bharatanatyam aramandis are very dominant and lateral," he explains. "Kathakali movements are circular, semi-circular and lateral-circular. If you watch a Kathakali dancer, you will instantly know if there's a Bharatanatyam influence or not."

The process of unlearning and learning continued under second guru Fact Padmanabhan, who purged Gupta of purusha vesham influences. Female characters conform to lasya (grace), their expressions, foot movements and mudra execution distinct from those in purusha vesham.

Not surprisingly, Gupta has come under fire from purists for his apparently-radical approach. Perhaps not without reason: not only have Kathakali performances become much shorter (traditional sequences lasted a whole night), but only one-third of all 101 plays are performed today. Sopanam (Kathakali song) is rendered in Manipravaalam – a mix of Malayalam and Sanskrit – which is not understood by audiences. And since the form has far fewer takers than Bharatanatyam, Kathak and Odissi, not many artists make a full-time job of it. Gupta himself is an English teacher by day.

But, he insists, evolution and preservation needn't be mutually exclusive: "Every dance must go through innovation, or it will stagnate. I push boundaries, not break them." He talks about the time each word of the old English Antony and Cleopatra was translated into Sanskrit for his routine. From his blue-gold jacket symbolising the Nile to the Nangiarkoothu mudi he wore because it is reminiscent of the Egyptian cobra on pharaoh crowns, significant thought went into costumes alone. "We also improvised on mudras, using permutation-combinations to depict Shakespeare's puns," he adds.

The dancer, who trains for over 10 hours every day, runs Bangalore's Centre for Kathakali Arts. He has just one student who is dead serious, he laughs.

"But I'd rather have that. I once got a call from students learning Bharatanatyam, Kathak, Kuchipudi and Mohiniyattam – all together. They wanted to learn Kathakali too. I said, 'Please continue with whatever you're doing. Learning one form itself is a huge ocean. Kathakali will not be your fifth'."

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Kathakali 101

- Kalaripayuttu is an essential part of Kathakali training in Kerala. Kathakali is broadly divided into two schools: Kalluvazhi (north Kerala) and Thekkan (south Kerala)

- The 24 mudras are codified in the treatise, Hasta Lakshana Deepika. Facial expressions are derived from Natyashastra and broadly denote nine emotions: hasyam (humour or ridicule), veeram (valour), bhayanakam (fear), beebhatsam (disgust), karunam (pathos), shantam (peace), albhutam (amazement), sringaram (romance) and roudram (wrath).

- Male and female characters have distinct costumes and make-up. Green make-up signifies the hero; green with red streaks, rajasik or grey characters. White and red beards represent spirituality and violence, respectively. Black make-up and costumes denote tamasic (demonic) elements. Women and sages are minukku (secondary) characters, with yellow make-up and less elaborate costumes. The distinct chutti or white facial border worn by purusha vesham artistes, once made of rice paper, is now made of drawing sheets.