The intrusion of a French man in a Padayani team

Marc Lambert

The “intrusion” of a French man among the troupe, ready to share joys and sorrows in an unceasing April 1998 heat wave, was done without many difficulties. “Any problem, no problem”, Sadashiva shouts to me. At times, this man is a cook, or a worker in fields. He knows all the roads and all harbors in India. And Sadashiva is a great performer of Padayani. 

Reghu Kumar – my guru - asked me to be a member of the Gothra Kala Kalari; this was the simplest way to seal the Indian gurukula into friendship.

The new craze in the village, this summer of 1998, was certainly when the troupe decided to include a non-Indian member in this rural performance. Usually, Kathakali or Koodiyattam would attract student-dancers from the West. Folk art forms are not as prestigious as the classical ones. The press commentaries did mentioned this atypical element – an outcast (a western dancer), who joined a traditional symbol of Kerala culture! But these commentaries showed a favorable approach of the experience, ironically in counterpoint to the reputation of the art-form: “He is gracious/Padayani dancers are rude swingers”; “His skin is white/theirs are black - the black color of the low-casts. This art-form devoted to the poor is opening now to the rich zone – the West.”

“To the three Maruthas (deities) from the songs of Padayani: the Blue, the Black and the Green one, we must add now the White Marutha coming from overseas, from the Occident.” [Mathrubumi, April 22, 1998]

Some other press articles commented in a more neutral way “the successful immersion of a stranger into the deep cultural Keralite patrimony”.

“You are different from others”, once Reghu told me. My guru doesn’t know how much of the West still belongs to me. If I were a tourist, first I would suffer the climate conditions like everyone. The tour de force for a Padayani dancer consists in pushing the danced body beyond the limits of exhaustion, which we could call a first step (where the body reacts normally to environmental conditions), towards a region of sensations full of curious phenomenons. A sensation of easiness and physical freedom may happen, a renewal of perceptions followed by instant recovery of vigor. One feels “plugged” to high-energy collective powers. The basis of my friendship was set in the heart of human companionship where dance is the link. Everyone in the neighborhood participated to my new religious initiation. Reghu drew the mask of Marutha (the Other Mother) I was to dance with. Early in the afternoon, TV channels and journalists came to Kadammanitta for photo shootings and interviews. Reghu as the ashan –, the dance master, was explaining the particular situation.

The initiation

Now in the evening, 45mn before my dance program, many villagers are coming and they surround me. We are all gathering nearby the sacred tree at the entrance of the kalam (the circular stage). I can read excitation and anxiousness on their face. Ten minutes before performance, as the number of people increase, I have the feeling that they are about to sacrifice me. “Is he thirsty?" one asks; “Get him a coffee”, answers another one. I don’ know what I can decipher in their eyes, I see they are not smiling anymore. Reghu is dressing me up. He fixes the white dhothi and the red cloth around my waist, as everyone is giving his own advice. Unni, the next-door neighbor who never performs, wants to join also in the dance.

Then I gave a coin and the betel leaf in the hands of the guru, who gave me blessings. And about 30 people –all men, ran on to the stage ground, shouting, making sounds. This is the character of Marutha.

The dance lasts about 20mn. It goes in a progression: slowly first, then it gets “dangerous”, as kids would in a courtyard, screaming and yelling at each other. Together, the Maruthas are facetious; they like to pick at each other. They also want the public to participate in the game. They know instinctively where the “sensitive points” are located in the ground-seated audience. According to their mood, the Maruthas could run and discharge their energy on to that points at the time of trance, throwing their all bodies somewhere in people. The rhythmic changes are important in the ritual. Reghu was next to me on stage; soon I couldn’t see him anymore. I was shouting with the others, following them in a new circle pattern. I could feel at the same time the cool araknut bark of my face and the elasticity of the earth under my feet. The fact that one is wearing a mask while dancing is special, you cannot see the sides, and you tend to concentrate more on something internal. I have the feeling that these “small windows”, while accelerating the dance, make it easier to reach the trance state.

I came out of the kalam without the sensation of being a Hindu god like icon (there are so many tricky interpretations of the Padayani cult), but instead, with the physical - quite joyful - feeling of being a part of the Padayani gang.

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Thesis “Ethnoscenology of Padayani – the body at the borders of imagination”

April 2004, University of Vincennes Saint-Denis Paris VIII

Contact:  sundara2004@yahoo.com