Andha Naal

BLAST FROM THE PAST

Andha Naal 1954

Sivaji Ganesan, Pandari Bai, ‘Javert’ Seetharaman, P. D. Sambandham, Suryakala and T. K. Balachandran

landmark in Tamil cinema Andha Naal

Andha Naal created history in Tamil cinema as the first movie sans song, dance or stunt sequence and is still being talked about. It is impossible for any producer to even dream of making such a movie today! The emerging Indian movie mogul AV. Meyyappan created history when he produced Andha Naal, which was less than 12,500 feet long, while most Tamil films of that day were 15,000 feet and above. The film was written and directed by the multi-faceted S. Balachandar who later attained fame as a veena player. The dialogue was written by ‘Javert’ Seetharaman and the film was photographed by talented lensman Maruthi Rao.

Many people to this day are under the impression that the film was an adaptation of the Akira Kurosawa classic Rashomon. Interestingly, the Japanese film was released in theatres in India soon after it created history in the international movie circuit and in the first international film festival held in India in 1952, thanks to the efforts of Pandit Nehru. The Japanese film was a brilliant narration of a single event seen through the eyes of the protagonists, each at variance with the other about what was the truth. However, Andha Naal, though bearing thematic resemblance to the Kurosawa classic, was actually an intelligent adaptation of a British movie Woman in Question made by Anthony Asquith (son of the British Prime Minister Lord Asquith), one of the three British movie maestros, the other two being Carol Reed and David Lean. Asquith’s film was a flashback on the murder of a woman with several people claiming to be the killer. Andha Naal was about the killing of Sivaji Ganesan by his wife (Pandari Bai, revealed to the audience) and many people claiming to be the killer. This film won a Central Government Award, and critical and public acclaim.

However, it did not fill the coffers of Meyyappan who understandably never thought of making a similar film later. Balachandar had an assistant in the directorial department, young and talented who later emerged as a successful filmmaker, Muktha V. Srinivasan.

The cast consisted of Sivaji Ganesan as a traitor, leaking secrets to the Japanese during the Second World War, Pandari Bai as his patriotic wife, ‘Javert’ Seetharaman, T. K. Balachandran, Suryakala, Menaka and P. V. Sambandam. Even today after five decades and more, this film sustains interest.

Balachandar, a brilliant technician had acquired vast knowledge of the art of cinema by watching movies from abroad, mostly from Hollywood. He put to good use his acquired skills and talents in this film, especially in the lighting to create mood and character. Sample this: in a sequence the anti-hero (Sivaji Ganesan) is totally in the dark while his abandoned sweetheart is brightly lit to bring about the contrast in the mood and the characters. In Hollywood lingo, it is known as ‘painting with light.’

Remembered for being the first Tamil film which had no dance, song or stunt sequence and for Balachandar’s impressive direction and fine performances by Sivaji Ganesan and Pandari Bai.

Krishna Menon and The Penguin Books

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Penguin’s Madras link

S. MUTHIAH

Great mind V.K. Krishna Menon

The other day, when Nandan Nilekani’s book Imagining India, was released before a large and high-powered gathering, I wondered how many present that evening realised that the imprint which was also being launched that day, Al len Lane, had a Madras connection.

That connection goes back to 1915 when a young man from Malabar, V.K. Krishna Menon, came to join his father’s alma mater, Presidency College, to study History and Economics. The young student, however, was indifferent to his studies and spent more time on the activities of the College Union, the College’s various debating societies, and the lectures by eminent men for which the Madras of the day was famous. He crowned his academic recalcitrance with a bit of derring-do that got him almost expelled — being saved only by the intercession of his History Professor, M.A. Candeth. One day, the red and green flag of Annie Besant’s Home Rule League had fluttered from the flagmast of the South’s leading Government institution, and it was traced to that rebellious student — and though Candeth had saved his skin, he was as uncertain as the young man’s father as to where the youth was headed.

The father, however, decided the boy was headed for Madras Law College. There, future lawyers always attended college in what was considered ‘proper’ attire, and that included coat and tie and turban even if you wore a dhoti — which had to be in panchakacham style. But that was not for this young man who daily turned up in a rather scruffy kurta and veshti set.

Whether the Law College faculty frowned on him or not, it did not particularly worry him. Annie Besant’s clarion call for Home Rule was what stirred him — and one fine day, he just quit college and landed on her doorstep, bedroll in hand. Living in a bachelor’s den in Adyar, he taught at Besant’s National University, became Arundale’s Secretary, and joined the Indian Boy Scouts’ Association Besant had launched, founding for it the first scout troop in Madras, the Mohammed Troop, in Komaleeswaranpet.

Three years later, Besant and Arundale sent him to England under a scheme they had launched to ensure Indian talent was further developed. In 1924, he arrived in London. He was to spend his next 30 years there.

He joined the London School of Economics, converted the Commonwealth of India League into the more politically focussed India League, became a Borough Councillor, qualified as a barrister and practised half-heartedly. During the course of all this, he also got into publishing.

In 1932, he became an editor of Bodley Head and got its Twentieth-Century Library series going. For Selwyn and Blount, he edited its series called Topical Books. Meanwhile, he dreamt of flooding the market with cheap paperback editions of quality titles. He discussed his idea with a colleague at Bodley Head and Allen Lane jumped at it.

In 1935, they quit Bodley Head and with a £100 capital set up office in the crypt of St. Pancras’ Borough Church. Thus was born Penguin books. Lane edited the fiction that they would publish as Penguins and his partner edited the non-fiction to be published as Pelicans. Among the Pelicans he edited were Bernard Shaw’s The Intelligent Woman’s Guide to Socialism, Capitalism, Sovietism, and Fascism and H.G. Wells’ A Short History of the World.

It was a partnership that began to make money from the start. But it was too good to last. Lane loved publishing but he also saw it as a business. His partner was too much of an idealist. They argued over where their business was headed, in a restaurant one day. Lane called his partner a “bottleneck”. V.K. Krishna Menon got up and walked out — and out of Penguin too. Nehru, who had met Menon in London and forged a close friendship with him, later made Menon his Minister for Defence. The war with China in 1962 led to Menon’s fall. Allen Lane, on the other hand, went on to publishing fame and fortune.

FatehPur Sikri and Taj

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Expressions, impressions

Take in the sight of the Taj Mahal and Fatehpur Sikri on a wintry evening and return transfixed

Photos: Ashrafi S Bhagat

light and shade Fatehpur Sikri inspires awe at dusk; (below) the inlay works in the Taj Mahal

The grandeur, magnificence and majesty of Islamic monuments in India, particularly those built by the Mughals, have enchanted art lovers and connoisseurs alike.

One cannot deny the dynamism, vision and ingenuity of conception and structural technology which the Mughals brought to their architectural expressions.

Charming architecture

Although these monuments today attract international and domestic tourists, the charm and aura of their architecture can be truly experienced under certain weather and light conditions.

As a great lover of Islamic art and with frequent opportunities to travel North, I have visited these monuments during various times of the year.

In August or September; the oppressive weather after the rain makes it a physically uncomfortable experience. But in winter, particularly November, it is awesome to see and experience these monuments bathed in a haze of ephemeral shifting light.

Veiled in mist

Travelling to Agra, Fatehpur Sikri and Sikandra in November is singularly a unique experience. The city of the Taj is cold, misty and hazy, with the rising sun a golden ball of tame fire in the Eastern sky. With the monument in close proximity to the hotel, we decided to walk to the Taj. At seven in the morning, as we passed through the main gateway, the Taj Mahal stood resplendent in all its beauty, veiled like a bride in mist with the golden rays embracing her. A breathtaking and emotionally moving moment. Enhancing the visual experience was the comforting coolness, the light and the translucent marble exuding a romantic aura.

The white marble of the tomb, suffused in the morning light, was evocatively sensuous, enhancing the feminity that shines through the structure, including in its floral and geometric decorative inlays. As beautiful as the woman it holds within its bosom.

Embellishments

The decorative patterns in semi-precious stones, ‘pietra dura’, contain cornelian, agate, jasper, jade, malachite etc. These stones were selected with an eye for colours and tonal shades, and in a single flower — take a dahlia or a carnation — it is possible to see nuances of a shade like orange.

The character of the decoration also shows Shah Jahan to be a great lover of beauty. It is claimed that he had the eye to pick out the rarest of gems.

Moving beyond the pietra dura inlay decorating the walls and the cenotaph, one only needs to glance at the floor to see another form of decoration — the opus sectile. In this form of inlay, the material used is multi-hued marble, ranging from the purest white, to yellow, pink and green juxtaposed in intricate geometric and organic patterns.

While the details in the Taj inspire awe and delight, architecturally, the monument was conceived to be perfect, the only asymmetry being the cenotaph of Shah Jahan that lies off centre next to Mumtaz Mahal.

And this with a reason, since he had intended another monument for himself across the river Jamuna, in black marble — his son Aurangzeb did not allow this to happen.

If the Taj lingers in our memory as a poem chiselled in stone, Fatehpur Sikri (30 km from Agra), the capital city designed by Akbar, Shah Jahan’s grandfather, offers testimony to the great monarch’s pragmatic vision.

Bathed in light

We visited the city late in the evening, when the tourists were moving out, and the setting sun bathed the monument in glowing red, subdued only by the rising mist.

In the gradual fading winter light, it was easy to visualise the splendour of the great monarch’s court, coming alive with Tansen’s soulful music on the Anup Talao, the gentle rhythm of the dancer’s anklets or the teasing evening breeze blowing across the red sandstone ridge.

As dusk settled, the monuments, with their domed pinnacles and pyramidal roofs, rose like guardian sentinels against the sky.

ASHRAFI S. BHAGAT

The butterfly effect

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The butterfly effect

It is a phenomenon that has baffled naturalists. The migration of butterflies is perhaps one of Nature’s marvels

Photos: K. Ananthan

Spectacular show Snapshots from the butterfly migration at Anaikatty

It’s the magic of the monsoons. After the showers, the forest springs back to life and the celebrations begin. One of them is a spectacular show in colours — the migration of butterflies.

Lakhs and lakhs of winged beauties take this flight, from June to July and October to November to a secret destination, a mystery that scientists and naturalists have been trying to unravel over the years.

Last week, the campus of Salim Ali Centre for Ornithology and Natural History (SACON) in Anaikatty, near Coimbatore, took on a coloured hue as the winged visitors fluttered their way across the valley and the forest. “It was fascinating to see the huge flow of butterflies,” says P. Pramod, Nature Education Officer of SACON, who has been observing this wonder for the last eight years.

Chasing butterflies

Some of the common butterflies such as dark blue tiger, common crow, double banded crow and common albatross joined the party. And, lime butterflies, in a combination of yellow and greenish spots, crossed the valley in large numbers.

It is believed that this large scale migration is an act of dispersal. Butterflies reproduce in huge numbers and disperse the young ones to various locations. Naturalists in the region have come up with a clearer picture, based on the scattered information that has been collected from Nature lovers. Some of them track the areas where the migration happens and the direction the butterflies take. In the Western Ghats, it is noticed that the butterflies always travel from the South West towards the North East.

Various influences

In June and July, they fly from the Nilgiris ranges to the Velliangiri hill range and in October and November, it is in the opposite direction. “They basically travel in the opposite direction of the wind. This is one vital clue, but to confirm it, we need to carry out systematic and planned studies. Climatic and geographical conditions, humidity, wind movement, availability of plant species (their food) have a big influence,” Pramod explains.

Most of the butterflies are common species (resident butterflies) that flock and travel from one region to another. The blue tiger that sports bluish black lines is one of the primary migratory butterflies and it moves in large numbers during the season.

The journey begins after the sun rays hit them (all butterflies need to bask in the sun to dry their wings before they begin to fly) in the morning and continues till the afternoon. In the evening, they rest on trees, a beautiful sight to watch — an array of colours clinging to the trees.

Another significant aspect noticed in migration is ‘mud puddling’ — where male butterflies extract minerals and moisture from the wet soil that they transfer to the females during mating.

“This happens when the population is more; only those males with better minerals are chosen by female butterflies,” Pramod explains.

Butterfly migration is always associated with the monarch butterfly migration that occurs in the U.S. but the fascinating phenomenon has been observed and recorded in various regions of the country.

The Malabar Natural History Society has conducted planned studies in the Kerala belt, especially the northern regions such as Wayanad, Kannur, Kozhikode and Malappuram. Scattered information is available in Andhra, Karnataka and parts of Tamil Nadu.

Magical

So, what does the migration look like? “It is magical. In blues, yellows, greens and greys, thousands of them circle you and flutter away. It brings about a sudden change in the environment,” says R. Selvi, a Nature lover who teaches zoology at Kadri Mills Higher Secondary School.

“They go in one direction, fly at moderate heights and at normal speed. In 2006, we saw them pass our school campus by the thousands; common crows, common roses, lime butterflies and blue tigers,” she recalls.

Pramod says it’s an intriguing phenomenon. “Scientists look at it with wonder as there are a lot of unanswered questions — Where do such unimaginable quantities of plants to feed the larvae come from (every butterfly species feeds on a particular plant species)? How do the butterflies know their destination? And, what triggers their togetherness?”

K. JESHI

Chennai Musuem II

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Stone lends itself to delicate work

PRADEEP CHAKRAVARTHY

The Government Museum has several stone sculptures which are of great importance, architecturally and historically.

(This is the second of a five-part series on the Government Museum, Chennai.)

The Indian tradition has always been known to reserve the best for the divine. References to ancient temples and palaces in works such as the Silappadikaram show that they were predominantly brick, wood and stucco structures elaborately painted and c arved. The Pallavas (600-850 A.D.) were not content with such transient buildings and chose a more permanent material for their construction – stone.

Found in abundance in most parts of Tamil Nadu except in the Thanjavur belt, granite and sandstone became the preferred mediums.

Cave temples were the first attempt and they morphed into free standing monolith temples such as those in Mahabalipuram. These in turn gave way to full scale stone structures. The trajectory of the bronzes applies here too. Chola (850-1350 A.D.) temples, except for Brihadeswara, Gangaikonda Cholapuram and Thribhuvanam, were modest but delicately crafted structures.

PHOTOS: S. Thanthoni

Poetry: Samples from the gallery — (from left) Vijayanagar crest, Bikshatanamurti-Mahishasuramardini and a section of the Amaravati stupa.

Nayak vintage

The Vijayanagar Nayaks (1350–1600 A.D.) made up in quantity what they lacked in quality. Nayak stone work is massive and gigantic.

Think of the tallest gopurams in Tamil Nadu that stand as gateways to large and complexly planned out temples, be they in Thiruvannamalai, Kanchipuram, Madurai or Srivilliputtur, they are all of Nayak vintage. Royal buildings continued to be built in perishable material and none have survived.

But the stone carving tradition continued though the figures lacked the realism of the Chola/Pallava/Pandya periods. Great attention was paid to the ornamentation but the features of the face were angular and stern in nature.

The gallery of stone artefacts at the Government Museum has many important pieces such as stone antiquities from the Amravati excavations of Guntur, Andhra Pradesh. The early Buddhist sculptures date back to about 200 B.C. to 250 A.D., and that of the Jain and Hindu ones from about 600 A.D. to recent times.

The Amaravati findings

Among the stone sculptures, those from Amaravati are of importance. Amaravati was an important Buddhist settlement on the banks of the Krishna.

The buildings, particularly a ruined stupa, were documented by the British in 1801. From then on, most of the important stone sculptures and panels were removed from there and brought to the Madras Museum or taken to London. The collection in the museum numbers to around 300 pieces and it depicts the development and progressive finesse of Buddhist sculpture from 200B.C. to 250 A.D.

There are over 600 specimens of stone sculptures belonging to the period from about 600 A.D. to recent times in the section. Of these, about 50 are Jain, about 25 memorial or hero stones, about a dozen Buddhist figures and about 10 snake stones. The rest are of Hindu deities. Several artefacts also have inscriptions on them that make them invaluable from the historical point of view.

The collection includes a group of door lintels that date from the 13th century. They have fine bas reliefs of auspicious signs that include the ashtamangalas. The hero stones are also worthy of mention for their finesse.

The Museum is open from 9.30 a.m.-5 p.m. It is closed on Fridays and national

holidays. For more information, visit www.chennaimuseum.org/

Chennai Musuem II

Source

Stone lends itself to delicate work

PRADEEP CHAKRAVARTHY

The Government Museum has several stone sculptures which are of great importance, architecturally and historically.

(This is the second of a five-part series on the Government Museum, Chennai.)

The Indian tradition has always been known to reserve the best for the divine. References to ancient temples and palaces in works such as the Silappadikaram show that they were predominantly brick, wood and stucco structures elaborately painted and c arved. The Pallavas (600-850 A.D.) were not content with such transient buildings and chose a more permanent material for their construction – stone.

Found in abundance in most parts of Tamil Nadu except in the Thanjavur belt, granite and sandstone became the preferred mediums.

Cave temples were the first attempt and they morphed into free standing monolith temples such as those in Mahabalipuram. These in turn gave way to full scale stone structures. The trajectory of the bronzes applies here too. Chola (850-1350 A.D.) temples, except for Brihadeswara, Gangaikonda Cholapuram and Thribhuvanam, were modest but delicately crafted structures.

PHOTOS: S. Thanthoni

Poetry: Samples from the gallery — (from left) Vijayanagar crest, Bikshatanamurti-Mahishasuramardini and a section of the Amaravati stupa.

Nayak vintage

The Vijayanagar Nayaks (1350–1600 A.D.) made up in quantity what they lacked in quality. Nayak stone work is massive and gigantic.

Think of the tallest gopurams in Tamil Nadu that stand as gateways to large and complexly planned out temples, be they in Thiruvannamalai, Kanchipuram, Madurai or Srivilliputtur, they are all of Nayak vintage. Royal buildings continued to be built in perishable material and none have survived.

But the stone carving tradition continued though the figures lacked the realism of the Chola/Pallava/Pandya periods. Great attention was paid to the ornamentation but the features of the face were angular and stern in nature.

The gallery of stone artefacts at the Government Museum has many important pieces such as stone antiquities from the Amravati excavations of Guntur, Andhra Pradesh. The early Buddhist sculptures date back to about 200 B.C. to 250 A.D., and that of the Jain and Hindu ones from about 600 A.D. to recent times.

The Amaravati findings

Among the stone sculptures, those from Amaravati are of importance. Amaravati was an important Buddhist settlement on the banks of the Krishna.

The buildings, particularly a ruined stupa, were documented by the British in 1801. From then on, most of the important stone sculptures and panels were removed from there and brought to the Madras Museum or taken to London. The collection in the museum numbers to around 300 pieces and it depicts the development and progressive finesse of Buddhist sculpture from 200B.C. to 250 A.D.

There are over 600 specimens of stone sculptures belonging to the period from about 600 A.D. to recent times in the section. Of these, about 50 are Jain, about 25 memorial or hero stones, about a dozen Buddhist figures and about 10 snake stones. The rest are of Hindu deities. Several artefacts also have inscriptions on them that make them invaluable from the historical point of view.

The collection includes a group of door lintels that date from the 13th century. They have fine bas reliefs of auspicious signs that include the ashtamangalas. The hero stones are also worthy of mention for their finesse.

The Museum is open from 9.30 a.m.-5 p.m. It is closed on Fridays and national

holidays. For more information, visit www.chennaimuseum.org/

Tholpavakoothu-- Shadow of the Original

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Shadow of the original

SUGANTHY KRISHNAMACHARI

Tholpavakoothu demands expertise in various fields, knowledge of three languages being one of them, says Ramachandra Pulavar..

Shadow puppetry: K.K. Ramachandra Pulavar flanked by his puppets Rama and Ravana . He chooses verses from Kambaramayanam, a rich source of material, which he has mastered.

“Let the interview be in Tamil. I can speak pure Tamil. After all the songs in our shadow puppet shows are mainly from the Kambaramayanam,” says K.K. Ramachandra Pulavar, whose mother tongue is Malayalam.

He does speak pure Tamil, but rather haltingly, and this slows down the tempo of the conversation, and Ramachandran is in a hurry to finish the interview, because he has a programme that evening. So after sometime, he switches to Malayalam.

Tholpavakoothu, the form of puppetry in which Ramachandran is trained, originated in the 9th century A.D. As in the case of many other folk arts, Tholpavakoothu too is a part of temple rituals. “Goddess Bhadrakali was busy fighting the demon Tarakasura, when Rama was fighting Ravana. So she could not see the Lanka war. Lord Siva advised her to visit temples where the battle would be re-enacted in puppet shows. Our puppet shows are, therefore, staged in Bhagavati temples. And since the whole thing is only a re-enactment, a shadow of the original, we have shadow puppetry. The curtain on which the shadows are projected faces the deity, so that she can watch the show,” says Ramachandran, explaining the ritual aspect of his art.

All Bhagavati temples have permanent stages for puppet shows. The stage is called the ‘Koothu Madam.’ It is 42 feet long, 12 feet wide and 8 feet high. The puppets are behind the curtain and oil lamps are used to light up the scene behind the curtain.

Deer skin

Rama

Originally, puppets were made of palm leaves, and later deer skin was used. There used to be six sangams or associations of puppeteers in Kerala — Mathur, Puthur, Kavalapara, Kuthanur, Palapuram and Payaloor.

They all had leather puppets. The sangams died a natural death. Fortunately, some 400-year-old puppets are still kept in the Kavalapara palace. Every year during the temple festival, the puppets are brought out and used in the shows. The puppets, however, are not taken to temples outside Kavalapara, informs Ramachandran.

Ramachandran makes his own puppets, which he uses to perform in 105 temples in Kerala. These days the puppets are made of goat or buffalo hide. Different types of chisels are used to cut out features of the puppets.

The puppet is moved by a stick fixed on it vertically. The puppets are in different postures. They are 180 cm high and 45 cm wide.

Ramachandra Pulavar is from the Koonathara Tholpava school, and trained under his father — K.L. Krishnan Kutty Pulavar. Pulavar is an honorific that is given to a puppeteer who is also a scholar. The puppeteer has to study Kamba Ramayanam.

Ramachandran, for example, chooses verses for each show, from among the 3,100 Kambaramayanam verses that he knows. He has also written some lyrics himself.

A puppeteer must be familiar with Sanskrit, well read in the Vedas, Agama Sastras, Puranas, ithihasas and Ayurveda, and trained in classical music too. Since classical music requires years of study, some puppeteers give it a miss.

Instruments such as chendai, madhalam, kuzhal, thattam, bombu, chellinga and ezhupara are used. In the course of the show, the audience might have some questions for the main puppeteer. “The questions could be on anything, from Ayurveda to current events. So one must be well read,” says Ramachandran.

Long duration

Ravana

Tholpavakoothu is staged continuously for 7, 14, 21, 41, or 71 days, depending upon the custom practised in the temple. Earlier, shows used to be of ten hours duration. Now they have been reduced to five. “We perform because it is the tradition to, but there is no audience,” Ramachandran observes sadly.

The irony is that there are lots of sponsors for the shows, because it is believed that Goddess Bhagavati will bless those who contribute to Tholpavakoothu. Villagers make their contributions, and their names will be read by the puppeteer, who will invoke the blessings of the Goddess for the donor.

“While villagers don’t come to the shows, there has been an excellent response in colleges,” says Ramachandran. To him goes the credit of introducing secular and contemporary themes, to make the art more appealing to the younger generation. He has performed one-hour shows to packed auditoriums in colleges, on themes such as ragging and Hindu-Muslim unity. Ramachandran has done shows based on the Panchatantra for school children.

Dakshinachitra gave Ramachnadran an award sometime ago. Ramachandran has translated the Bala Kandam (Kamba Ramayanam) into English. He has taken his show to Israel, Sweden, Russia and Greece.

Ramachandran’s wife makes leather puppets that are much sought after not only here but abroad. “In fact, my wife makes more money through the export of her puppets than I make through puppetry,” Ramachandra Pulavar laughs.