The Margazhi Vizha is conceived to heal art, and help art heal by opening art and artists to new audiences and different environments. The music, dance and drama festival includes performances in Carnatic music, Bharatanatyam, Villupattu, Paraiaattam and Kattaikuttu at the Urur-Olcott fishing community, Elliots Beach, Chennai. The vizha will be held on January 15 and 16, 2014.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Day 2 vignettes
Precious moments/moods from the vizha...
In pictures: Unnikrishnan and team (carnatic music), Paraiaattam, Villupattu and Kattaikuthu artists in action, and, of course, the beloved audience in various hues...
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Candid moments from the vizha - day 1
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| Getting ready... |
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| Backstage... |
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| Final touches... |
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| Paraiattam gets underway |
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| View from the top... |
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Villupattu girls in action Carnatic ensemble  |
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| The little Krishna who stole our hearts |
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| The wall's our message board... |
Monday, January 12, 2015
From the heart, yet again...
Veronica Angel
அக்கா உன்னிகிருஷ்ணன் வராரா? அப்படியே அனிருத்தையும் கூட்டிட்டு வர சொல்லுங்க அப்போ தான் நான் வில்லுப்பாட்டு பாட வருவேன்... இல்லன வர மாட்டேன், இப்போவே சொல்லிட்டேன்! -குழந்தைகள் சுற்றியிருக்க (ஒன்னு மடியில..ஒன்னு கழுத்த சுற்றி) இதை எழுத ஆரம்பிக்குறேன்.
ஆரம்பிக்குறதும் ஆரம்பிக்குறேன் ஊர் பேர் சொல்லி ஆரம்பிக்குறேன். 'ஊரூர்குப்பம்'-பெசன்ட் நகர் தலப்பாக்கட்டிக்கு பின்னாடி ஒளிஞ்சுட்டு இருக்குற மாதிரி இருக்குற வெட்ட வெளிச்சமான ஊரு. என்ன ராத்திரி மட்டும் இருக்குற அஞ்சாறு தெரு விளக்குல நாலஞ்சு எரியாது. நம்ம மணியோட பக்கத்து வீட்டு தாத்தா தான் சொன்னாரு, 'யம்மாடி..இந்த தெரு விளக்கு எரியவே மாட்டுக்கு..ராத்திரி பொம்பளைங்க வெளிக்கு ஒதுங்க கஷ்டமா இருக்கு..உங்க டிபார்ட்மெண்ட்ல யார் கிட்டயாவது சொல்லி ஏற்பாடு பண்ணுமா..' வில்லுப்பாட்டு ஸ்கிரிப்டோட சுத்திட்டு இருந்த என்னை,ஏதோ சர்கார் ஆபிஸ்லயிருந்து வந்துருக்கேன்னு நினைச்சு புலம்புனாரு.. இப்படி சந்துபொந்தெலாம் குட்டி பசங்களோட சுத்தி சுத்தி சுத்தியே இப்போ தெருக்கொரு வீட்ல போய் மீன்குழம்பு சாப்பிடுற அளவுக்கு பழக்கமாகிடுச்சு!
'வில்லுப்பாட்டு அக்கா வந்துட்டாங்க..தலை வாரிட்டு சீக்கிரம் கிளம்புங்கடி'ன்னு அம்மாக்கள் பிள்ளைகளை அனுப்புறப்போ வாய்க்கு வாய் வில்லுப்பாட்டு அக்கா..வில்லுப்பாட்டு அக்கான்னு கூப்பிடுவாங்க. அப்போல்லாம் ரொம்ப கூச்சமா இருக்கும். இருக்காதா பின்ன? வாழ்க்கையில இன்னும் ஒரு தடவ கூட வில்லுப்பாட்டு கச்சேரி பார்த்தது இல்ல..யூ-டுயூப்ல பார்க்கலான்னு போனா ரெண்டு நிமிஷத்துக்கு மேல கூட பார்க்க பொறுமை இல்ல! குழந்தைங்கள் கிட்ட இருந்து சுட்ட ரெண்டு மெட்டு, சுத்தி நடக்குற நாலு விஷயத்த வச்சே மேடை ஏத்திடறது பழக்கமாயிடுச்சு. சுட்ட ரெண்டு மெட்டு எப்பவுமே பிரச்சன இல்ல.ஆனா சுத்தி நடக்குறது தான் மனச கொடையுது..
ஒரு நாள் பவானி ஓடி வந்து சொன்னா..'அக்கா அக்கா.. நம்ம மணி கேஎப்சி-யாண்ட பிச்சை எடுத்துட்டு இருக்குறான்.
மறுநாள் மணிகிட்ட கேட்டேன். 'டேய் மணி பிச்சை எடுத்தியா?
'இல்லக்கா..'
பொய் சொல்லாதடா..பின்ன ஏன் அங்க போன?
'எனக்கு கோழி கறி பிடிக்கும்..அதான் போனேன்'
இனிமே அங்க போய் பிச்ச எடுக்க மாட்டேன்னு சத்தியம் பண்ணி கொடு
என் கைய பிடிச்சு இழுத்து 'சரிக்கா சத்தியம்'ன்னு சலிச்சுக்கிட்டே சத்தியம் பண்ணிட்டு ஓடிட்டான்.
நேத்துக்கு தான் மணிய கூட்டிட்டு போய் என் சீனியர் ஒருத்தர் நடத்துற பாயிஸ் ஹோம்ல சேர்க்க போனேன். பார்க்க வீடு மாதிரி தான் இருக்கும். அதனால என் அண்ணன் வீடு தான், நல்லா பார்த்துபாங்கன்னு சொல்லி தான் கூட்டிட்டு போனேன். போனவுடனே அவர பார்த்து கேட்டான். உங்களுக்கும் இந்த அக்காக்கும் ஒரே அப்பாவான்னு. அவரும் சிரிச்சுட்டே கேட்டாரு..'ஏன்டா உன்ன இங்க வந்து சேக்குறாங்க?'
'அதுவா..நான் கோயில்ல இருந்து காசு எடுத்துட்டேன்..குருசாமி என்ன போலீசுல பிடிச்சு கொடுத்துடுவேன்னு சொன்னாரு. அதான் நான் கெட்டு போய்டக்கூடாதுன்னு அக்கா இங்க என்னை சேக்குது'- ரொம்ப வெகுளியாய் சொன்னான்.
'சரி.. காச என்னடா பண்ணுனே?' அவர் கேட்க
'அதுக்குள்ளார போய் உட்காந்து கோழிக் கறி வாங்கி சாப்பிடேன்ல..!' - எதையோ சாதிச்ச மாதிரி பெருமையா சொன்னான் மணி.
பெசன்ட் நகர் கடற்கரையே தனக்கு சொந்தம் மாதிரி கைகள வீசிட்டு எப்பவும் நடக்குற மணி, நாலு சுவத்துக்குள்ள எப்படி இருக்க போறான்னு நினைச்சு பார்க்கவே பயமா இருக்கு!
ஆனா அவனோ 'அண்ணே..நான் இன்னிக்கு அக்காவோட போய்ட்டு பொங்கல் முடிச்சுட்டு வந்து இங்க சேந்துக்குரேன்' ன்னு சொன்னான்.
ஏன்டா..?இங்கயும் பொங்கல் கொண்டாடுவோம்..இங்க இருந்து கொண்டாடுன்னு அவர் சொல்ல..
எங்க எல்லையம்மன் கோயில்ல திருவிழா அண்ணே..பாட்டு பாடுறவங்க எல்லாம் வராங்க..நான் போய்ட்டு வந்துடுறேன்னு சொன்ன மணிய எதுவும் சொல்ல முடியாம என்கூடவே அனுப்பி வச்சுட்டாரு..
நம்ம கிட்ட இருக்குற காசு தான் பல மணிக்களை ரோட்ல ஸ்டிக்கர் விக்கவும், குட்டிக்கரணம் போடவும் வைக்குதுங்கறது கசப்பான உண்மை..
ஆனா நாம எப்பவும் போல மேல்தட்டு கீழ்தட்டுன்னு பேசி பேசி தடுக்கி தான் விழுந்துட்டு இருக்குறோம்.. வர்க்கம் இனம் கலாச்சாரம் குலம் கோத்திரம் எல்லாத்தையும் கொஞ்சம் தள்ளிவச்சுட்டு..கலையை ஒரு குழந்தையின் மனநிலையில இருந்து பார்த்தா..சந்தேகமே இல்ல..அது எல்லாத்தையும் தாண்டி கொண்டாடக்கூடியதாகவே இருக்கு.! எத்தன கோடி பிழைகள் இருந்தாலும் அது கொண்டாடக்கூடியதாகவே இருக்கு..
'ரெண்டையும் இணைக்குற மெல்லிய நூல் நம்ம கையில தான் இருக்கு'ன்னு ஒரு தடவ ஞாநி என் கல்லூரிக்கு பேச வந்தப்போ சொன்னது ஞாபகம் வருது.இவ்வளவு நாள் கண்ணுக்கே தென்படாத அந்த நூல் இன்னிக்கு கையில புலப்பட்டிடும் என்கிற நம்பிக்கையோட ஊரூர்-ஆல்காட் குப்பம் குழந்தைகள் சார்பா மார்கழி விழாவுக்கு அனைவரையும் அன்போட அழைகின்றேன்.
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Sunday, January 11, 2015
Celebrating oneness of all kinds...
"Creating oneness", that's what it's called, oneness with people and oneness with art.
Oneness so that there is no them and no us.
Oneness so that art can be looked at as art regardless of whether it's "classical" or "folk".
Oneness with the sea the breeze and the sand.
Oneness with the sky and oneness with the clouds.
Oneness with one's self, one's art and one's surrounding.
But most of all stepping out of the comfort zone of one's thoughts and one's ideas and welcoming new thoughts and new ideas.
~ Tara
FAQs on the Margazhi Vizha
Answered by Nityanand Jayaraman...
http://kafila.org/2015/01/11/caste-class-and-the-classical-faqs-about-the-urur-olcott-festival-chennai-nityanand-jayaraman/
On 15-16 January, 2015, a much talked about festival of dance and music, that intends and promises to be different, is to be held in Chennai. The Urur Olcott Kuppam Margazhi Vizha means different things to different people. But for those who do not know what Urur Olcott Kuppam is or what the Tamil phraseMargazhi Vizha means, the Vizha may have no significance. These answers to FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions) is for such people, and for those who know what it means and have sent many bouquets and a few brickbats my way for being engaged in the organising of this Vizha. The views expressed here are personal and do not reflect a consensus within the group of organisers. However, the process of organising, the event and post-event engagements are itself likely to provide a platform for discussing such views and counterviews.
What is Urur Olcott Kuppam?
Urur Olcott Kuppam is a centuries-old fishing village in South Chennai. By rights, the Kuppam ought to be the landmark for Besant Nagar as in — “You know Besant Nagar, that newly settled neighbourhood near Urur Olcott Kuppam?” But that’s not how it is. Besant Nagar’s residents are predominantly upper class, upper caste. Urur Kuppam’s are predominantly from the fisher community of Pattinavar. The hip and happening Besant Nagar is well-known; the kuppam is invisible. The injustice doesn’t stop with geography. Dominant history also begins where dominant geography begins – with Besant Nagar. Ask Besant Nagar residents what existed 40 years ago in this area, and people are likely to say “Nothing” or “Nothing but the beach.” It’s as if the fishing villages did not exist before the government decided to carve residential plots for middle and high-income people out of sand dunes carpeted with cashew, palmyra, casuarina and screwpine.
What is Margazhi Vizha?
The tamil phrase Margazhi Vizha means “festival” or Vizha in the tamil calendar month of Margazhi that runs from mid-December to mid-January. Margazhi Vizha is cool for a number of reasons. For a start, the phrase has two tamil words with “zh” — pronounced as a retroflex sound – in it. Try saying “la” by curling the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth and rolling it from back to front without touching the palate. That’s what “zh” sounds like. Now try Margazhi Vizha. Cool, isn’t it?
The festival is also cool because this is the only time when Chennai is cool. This coastal city’s infamous hot and humid weather takes a brief break in December and January. That is one of the reasons why the city packs most of its fun music and dance events into these two months.
When I say cool, I speak as a Chennaiite – relatively. Temperatures range from a maximum of 28 degree celsius to a chill 22. Let’s not have any Bengalureans turning up their noses at our December weather. If you manage to get past your traffic-jammed city, we invite you to come down to Chennai, to the beach near Urur Olcott Kuppam (it’s called Besant Nagar beach) early in the morning. You will see loads of people wearing monkey caps and chinese ear muffs. God promise! Our elders say the Pani (the tamil word that doubles for “snow”and “dew”) that falls in Margazhi is injurious to health. In Chennai, there is really no snow; only dew. So what? We madrasis take our cold weather seriously. We actually hype up the cool. I guess that makes us Madrasis in Margazhi hyper-cool.
Now that you know Urur Olcott Kuppam and can roll your tongue around your palate like quicksilver swilling in a bowl, I think you’re ready to know what the Urur Olcott Kuppam Margazhi Vizha is. There are more margazhi vizhas happening in the city than you can shake a silk saree at. But this is not one of those. This is different for good reasons, I think. But to know how this is different, you first have to know what it is different from.
Chennai hosts more than 2000 performances of Carnatic music and Bharatanatyam just in the two cool months wrapped around the Margazhi. This is a good thing. But Margazhi performances are restricted to Carnatic and Bharatanatyam and art forms that are declared to be “classical.” Over the years, arts and artists have confined themselves to elite ghettos which is what the sabhas have become. With all this comes the inescapable caste trap. In the words of T. M. Krishna, Carnatic vocalist, and the mind behind the idea of a different kind of festival:
Most of our really great musicians are Brahmins. If I have to learn music, I have to go to a Brahmin. . .I can’t look away from the fact that [Carnatic] music is the preserve mostly of Brahmins.
Most singers are brahmins. Most of the patrons are either brahmins or belong to other upper castes – Mudaliars, Chettiars and Pillaimars. The cooks in the wonderful canteens inside the sabhas are most likely brahmins. Most of the audience, some of whom come only to taste the food, is brahmin. The Tamil that is spoken, when English is not, is brahmin.
Music and arts are capable of bridging across cultures and civilisations and liberating us from artificial divisions of caste and race. Why should the liberator be trapped between artificial walls and made to adhere to man-made hierarchies of high- and low-brow, classical and non? This needs to be challenged. “’Classical’ as used in common parlance is purely a social hierarchical construction with no relation to the idea of ‘art aesthetics,’” says T.M. Krishna.
The unquestioning ghettoisation of Carnatic music comes with a tacit declaration that “classic” art forms are practised by superior people for the elite and more discerning members of society in spaces that are exclusive by design or default, and that other art forms are crude and are practised by the crude for the crude in the spaces that the inferior inhabit.
Google the search string “Chennai music” or “Chennai culture” or “Chennai arts and culture” and unless you know Chennai, you will leave thinking that Chennaiites speak to each other in Carnatic ragas as they walk to and from sabhas with thakka-dhimi steps. Other performing arts like parai-attam, villu-paattu, gaana-paattu, kuthu, silambu-attam[i] which are as integral to Chennai’s identity as Carnatic and Bharatanatyam are invisible – like how Besant Nagar is visible and Urur Olcott Kuppam is not.
The sabhas have been instrumental in sustaining and rejuvenating Carnatic music, Bharatanatyam and its artists. For that, I am thankful. But that this sustenance has been restricted to a thin layer of society or a few art forms cannot be seen as a mere coincidence. The arts and artists need to be liberated from their enclosures and benefit from the responses of Chennai’s diverse communities. It is time that the arts and artists take their place along with other art forms in the city, rather than an assumed place above or below any others.
So what’s different about the Urur Olcott Kuppam Margazhi Vizha?
The intent is different. The intent is to use music and arts as a means to heal social relations. Many people see this as an effort to take Carnatic to the fisherfolk — to offer poor deprived fisherfolk an opportunity to savour the exquisite. That is not the case. Rather, this is an opportunity for the exquisite to benefit from interaction with an audience different from what it is used to. It is an opportunity for the exquisite to perform alongside other exquisites – for Villu-paattu to usher Carnatic in, or for Parai-attam to set the beat for Bharatanatyam. This will only make our already rich art forms, and our obviously talented artists shine brighter. Purity and immutability will kill the arts.
The Venue is different. The festival will be held in the open, on the Urur Olcott Kuppam beach, in front of the village temple. The venue is not exclusive and is accessible to all, including dogs and goats. The rectangular stretch of sand and rubble in front of the temple is not a dedicated auditorium. It is an open public space. And like all open public spaces, it is available separately and sometimes simultaneously for all non-conflicting uses. The performance area is where the local auto mechanic parks broken and under-repair vehicles. All vehicles bar two – that have been spray painted and will be used as decoration for the space – will be removed for the duration of the festival. The place where the audience sits on the ground is where children play. The area where chairs will be placed for the elderly is a public thoroughfare that will be closed for the occasion. Two house owners have allowed the video crew to mount two cameras on their balconies. Another house owner has offered his wall as a canvas for a Margazhi Vizha motif. Artistic wings that frame the performance space are on loan for free from a local school. The sea in the backdrop is real. The boats and kattumarams (log rafts) that offer their romantic lines to the aesthetics of the space are not props but real fishing crafts that form the backbone of this village’s economy.
The organisers and the manner in which the festival is organised are different. The village is not merely a venue but also the host of the festival. The Urur Kuppam and Olcott Kuppam village administrations, the women and youth are co-organisers sharing responsibility with other art enthusiasts, rasikas and art-illiterate volunteers like myself to make this festival real. There are no rich patrons, no corporate sponsors, no media partners. The artists are performing for free, but we’re offering an honorarium. The grand budget of Rs. 1.5 lakhs for the two-day festival was raised through crowd funding; many offers of money had to be turned down because we had achieved our budget within 10 days of starting the campaign. People from all walks of life – fishermen, beach stall vendors, mechanics, office-goers, writers, singers, students – and from various parts of Chennai met about eight times in the last two months. No professional event manager can replicate the volunteer energy that’s driving this effort.
The Audience is different – This is not a Carnatic concert or a classical performance for a different audience at a different venue. This is a multi-genre festival for a heterogenous audience. This is not vengeance for the sabhas’ exclusivity. We hope that the Mamis and mamas will come to the vizha to experience the arts they savour in a completely new environment and to enjoy many other art forms. To make sure they aren’t alone or bored or leave with a distorted view of our diverse world, we have also invited thambis and Aayaas, and Annachis and Aachhis and Bais.[ii] Importantly, the organisers are also the audience. We like having fun too.
A friend suggested to me that if our intent was to challenge the elitism and the exclusivity of the sabha culture, we should consider storming the sabhas.
I don’t see the Vizha as an alternative or a confrontation to sabhas. Rather, I see it as operating in and invoking a separate frame – of what a celebration could look like if it were conscious of the need to heal historical fractures in society. To me, the festival is also a critique of the corporate patronage that seems to contaminate every exercise of civil society – from marathons, to concerts, to clean-up drives, campus festivals and kindergarten lemon-and-spoon races. If there is a challenge, that challenge is to the notion of the classical and all the other associated baggage. The Kuppam Vizha is an invitation for people — sabha-goers or otherwise – to come to a beautiful setting by the beach and under the stars for an evening of music, poetry and dance. It is not a call to reject the sabhas, but for artists, organisers and audiences to realize other possibilities.
Is this Poverty Tourism, where you bring rich, elite audiences to an impoverished village?
With at least 30 percent of our population living below an impossibly low poverty line, walking out of your house to the beach could be described poverty tourism. The answer to this question, though, is that this event is meant to be quite the reverse of poverty tourism. Places at the edge of dominant geographies are poorly understood, and described only using untested stereotypes.
The last time Chennai learnt that the city is dotted with fishing villages is when something bad happened – when the tsunami struck 10 years ago. This time, we hope Chennai will learn that the city is dotted with fishing villages because something good is happening – like a Margazhi festival.
Most residents of Besant Nagar do not even know that the Kuppam is a village. It is described as a slum. Other related stereotypes abound – that it is dirty; that the residents are uniformly poor; that crime rates are high; that all men are drunkards and wife beaters; that the place is dangerous; that the people are worthy of disdain, or at best pity (as when the tsunami struck) but never respect.
To an outsider, a fishing village may seem impoverished. But walk along the Urur Kuppam beach with veteran fisherman Palayan from that village, and have him reel out the kinds of nets, craft and gear stored under the open sky on the beach. There are close to 20 boats that are currently used for fishing and an equal number that is lying idle on the Urur Olcott villages. Each boat costs Rs. 1.5 lakhs. With nets, engines and communal gear like the shore seine taken into account, the total value of the movable assets will not be less than Rs. 3 crores, Palayan asserts. This is a village of hunters, who brave the ocean to bring back affordable protein for the rich and the poor.
Through the process of organising, many volunteers visited the fishing village for the first time. They got to interact with human beings not stereotypes. This is a redeeming experience for both parties. Contrary to the stereotype that such villages are dens of crime, you will find fewer paranoid souls, fewer locked gates and closed doors in the village. The fact that more than Rs. 3 crores of property is left out in the open on the beach unlocked is a challenge to this stereotype.
Even the humblest of homes is cleaned, its frontyard sprinkled with water and decorated with festivekolams. If the stretch along the Urur Kuppam beach seems ugly and dirty, it is because it has not been cleaned. Only one person with a tricycle is responsible for cleaning the garbage generated by 3000 households in Urur Olcott Kuppam and Thiruvalluvar Nagar. If the same labour investment were deputed for 3000 households in Besant Nagar, we’d be up to our well-fed backsides in our own trash within two days.
Are you not playing into the hands of the Hindutva-vadis whose ultimate goal is to sanskritise all cultures?
This is a difficult question. The simple answer to that is that it is not my intent to propagate any cultures of communal dominance or oppression. Rather, the intent is to the contrary. Whether the decision is good or not, only time will tell. But it is a decision that I took after much thought. And it is a decision that I will stand by and learn from. If the proposal for such a festival had come to me from any Carnatic musician other than T.M. Krishna, I would have hesitated and perhaps not ventured this far. If the initial reaction to the proposal from my friend K. Saravanan – who is from Urur Kuppam – had been cold and hesitant, I would perhaps not have ventured this far. I did not see the Vizha proposal as a means to “impose” Carnatic music on unsuspecting fisherfolk for two reasons. I do not see good music and dance as an imposition, but a delight. The fact that it is happening on the beach in open air means people can walk in and out depending on which sounds they find agreeable, and which not. Second, the fisherfolk are not unsuspecting. Neither is the fishing community a society that has remained insulated from various influences, problematic or otherwise, including urbanisation, sanskritisation and consumerisation. I have a feeling that Carnatic music will be imposed upon at least as much as it imposes. Besides, it is not just Carnatic music that will be on display. Here, the effort is to de-caste and de-class the classical.
Why is it being held in Urur Olcott Kuppam, which is near an elite residential area? Why not in Vyasarpadi which is a working class neighbourhoods located amidst other similar low-income areas?
Vyasarpadi is as good a location as any, and multi-genre festivals should be held there too. However, the audience would be exclusive by default. It offers no opportunity for the education of the sabha-goers, as they would not venture that far away from their world, just as the villagers from Urur Olcott Kuppam are unlikely to venture into Narada Gana Sabha of their own free volition. Urur Olcott Kuppam, on the other hand, is conveniently located. It takes little or no extra effort to get that slice of population to the Kuppam to enjoy some paraiaattam and villuppattu. And vice-versa with Carnatic.
There were other reasons too:
- the village administration’s enthusiastic response to hosting the event;
- my own relationship with the village through my friend Saravanan who is from that village;
- and the fact that Saravanan, I and two other friends have been working closely with Chennai’s fishing communities to assert their claims to coastal lands and thwart the threat of eviction as a consequence of gentrification.
To me, this festival has never been just about music and dance, but about the possibilities that music and dance offered, and the opportunity of working together with a number of keen minds on an effort that brings people together in an act of celebration.
Due Disclosure
I was born in a brahmin family. I offer no apologies for that. I enjoy music but am not a music afficionado. I can barely tell a thala from a raga. I offer my apologies for that. I’m agnostic and averse to organised religion of any kind, including consumerism and capitalism. I am part of a voluntary anti-corporate collective that invites youngsters to explore social issues. The collective is open to people of diverse ideologies as long as they are not hate-based or intentionally exclusive. It is a damning indictment of our ghettoised educational system that I discovered caste only in my mid-20s as a roving journalist covering coastal and fishery-related issues in India. To my mind, the amount of introspection the Vizha has led me to engage in is proof that some if not all objectives of the festival are valid.
[i]
Parai-attam is an art form where performers dance holding drums made of stretched cow-skin. Villu-paattu is a form of musical story-telling using a curved bow with bells as the key musical instrument. Kuthu is a vigorous dance form and Gaana Paattu a form of singing accompanied by percussion using locally available items such as match-boxes, buckets or sometimes the parai. Both of the latter have their origins in working class Chennai.
Parai-attam is an art form where performers dance holding drums made of stretched cow-skin. Villu-paattu is a form of musical story-telling using a curved bow with bells as the key musical instrument. Kuthu is a vigorous dance form and Gaana Paattu a form of singing accompanied by percussion using locally available items such as match-boxes, buckets or sometimes the parai. Both of the latter have their origins in working class Chennai.
[ii] These are respectful appellations used to refer to people from different communities. Bai, for instance, is used to refer to Muslims; aachi to refer to elderly women from the Chettiar community; elderly fisher women are referred to as aaya and so on.
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