Guardians of fast vanishing art forms
Temple arts forms - pooppudathullal' & tholpavakoothu'.
Thiruvananthapuram: The lives of Kottavattom Thankappan and Kannan Pulavar are as tragic as defiant rulers of vanishing kingdoms; they are the last guardians of temple arts that are fast receding into oblivion.
Thankappan safeguards ‘pooppudathullal’, a temple ritual once common in the interiors of Kollam. Kannan Pulavar is one of the few remaining masters of ‘tholpavakoothu’, a unique shadow puppetry observed as a ritual in village temples of Palakkad bordering Tamil Nadu.
emples alone are not enough to sustain them and their families, and they are only happy to perform in less-hallowed grounds like Kanakakkunnu Palace as part of the state-sponsored Onam celebrations.
“Our art form is no longer religiously important. Therefore such official
programmes help us meet ends,” said Thankappan who was one of the first folk art performers at this year’s celebrations.
His art form has evolved from the gory animal and human sacrifice of the past. In a kind of spiritual alchemy, Thankappan’s forefathers transformed
a bloody primitive ritual into a vibrant temple art for the exorcism of sins.
Now, instead of the sacrificial stone where animals or humans are sacrificed, there is a floral mat on which a woman is seated. The lady at the centre is believed have the powers to absorb the demons of those who dance wildly around her shaking a bunch of arecanut palm flowers.
If ‘pooppudathullal’ is an instinctual art form, ‘tholpavakoothu’ requires refined skill. It tells stories from Kambaramayanam, the Tamil version of Ramayan. Here the puppets, flat forms made of cowhide, do not have strings to control them like in usual puppetry but has a bamboo stick fitted vertically at the back, right at the centre.
Puppeteers hold the bottom of the stick to control the movements of puppets. These puppets are held behind a white screen but before a row of lighted lamps placed on a raised platform.
Kannan Pulavar’s son is an engineer, and he has accompanied him to the capital. “This art form won’t feed us, that is why I wanted my son to have a job,” Pulavan said.