|
|
|
Posted: May 8
(Kerala, India) The thick, humid air of the south India forest seems exotic, yet familiar. Probably it is all those years living in St. Louis or Belize. Twelve artists have gathered at the Samseeksha Spiritual Centre, in the woods along side a river that isn’t too far from a crossroads which is an hour away from the nearest city in Kerala. Retreat houses in the United States tend to be big, institutional complexes, but Samseeksha is a collection of small brick houses scattered in the trees. I have an individual cottage, just one bedroom, a small bathroom and porch. The dining room is in a separate building, as are the meeting room, chapel, etc.
At first I thought it would be claustrophobic to live enveloped by the forest but I quickly realized that trees means shade, and shade means cool. Well, perhaps not cool, but significantly less hot. The full Indian sun in summer (ie: right now) can fry you, so trees are your friends. So we work in our different houses, and have been very productive. We are 12 in all, mostly young Jesuits, one Belgian nun, one Catholic layman, and one “monk artist.” Sannyasi Red. He is an itinerant sculptor and painter who has been living in a marble quarry where the owner’s let him take whatever marble he needs and work on site. Edwin, the lay man, is a commercial artist who paints billboards; his speciality is advertisements for magic shows. The new flex-print technology is putting an end to hand-painted billboards in India, so he has turned his attention to getting in the Guiness Book of Records by painting a continuous scroll—three feet high and 471 feet long—with all the key stories of the Bible, and he did it in less than 40 days.
Actually, most of the artists here are accomplished and this has been a productive week together. I tried painting just from my imagination, which is what most people do, and I have tried some new techniques and materials. We will have a show tomorrow and put all the work up. In any case, the chance to meet other Jesuit artists is what brought me here, especially young Jesuit scholastics moving into the arts and communication.
Along the way I have seen some interesting things. We went one morning to watch trainers bathe the elephant in their charge. (The young giants are certainly more docile than scholastics.) Yesterday was the topper, though: we went to see the Pooram festival in Thrissur, a city about 50 miles away. This ceremony is unique to this one town which has two big Hindu temples. Once a year, they have this festival in honor of a goddess whom my hosts could not name. “Fans” of each temple fill the plaza in front of the Vadakkumnathan Temple. At either side of the square there are two lines of 15 mature elephants, each wearing a gold-plated head covering. Three men sit atop each animal; one holds a decorated umbrella atop a tall shaft, the second holds what looked to me to be two white “pom-poms” like the ones that cheer leaders shake, and the third carries two round disks that someone said represent the eyes of the goddess. The only way I could tell the teams apart is that one side wore white towels around their necks, the other side red ones. The three hour ceremony felt a cross between a New Orleans Mardi Gras (without the drinking) and a high school athletic rally. The high spirits and fans cheering for its temple’s elephants made me think of a really big athletic event. Pooram is a competition to see which temple has the best umbrellas and which team could change them with the most style. There are 30 sets of colorful, decorated umbrellas. First one side hosts a new set of umbrellas. Its fans roar and shake their arms in the direction of the other team with drums setting a steady 2/4 rhythm. Then the other side hosts its own new umbrellas, and its fans shake their arms and dance, on and on. When the whole ceremony is over, the elephants ponderously parade out of the square and everyone goes home quite contented.
They were certainly the nicest crowd that I have ever been in. The city provided a special section with chairs reserved for tourists up near the temple. So I had a good view, and was very courteously treated by policemen. Towards the end I left the stands and moved down to the other rank of elephants so I could get close-ups of the men carrying the umbrellas. A policeman came up, and I assumed he was going to shoo me away, but he only wanted to invite me closer to get a better shot of the action. Wow. These guys know how to make you feel welcome. If they only had air conditioning they could take over the world. They still might.
Pooram celebrates the annual meeting of gods and goddesses of the neighboring province who meet each spring. The festival began around 1785 and it certainly puts our Catholic liturgies to shame: but then we don’t have elephants, and it’s clear that they are the foundation for a really big ceremony. The umbrellas would fit right into Baroque Rome and a good drum section could make St. Peter’s rock and roll. Italian policemen, however, are going to require some serious reprogramming to become as photographer-friendly as the good folks at Thrissur's festival.
back to previous entries