Tradition Dies : Sri Lankan Mask Dance Fades Away

AMBALANGODA, Sri Lanka — Films have killed off mask dancing as the main form of entertainment in Sri Lanka’s south.

The intricately carved wooden masks used in the dances--with protruding fangs, glaring eyes and snarling snakes--for decades swayed to a pulsating drumbeat in tiny villages in the south and southwest of the island nation.

Now, they are being snapped up by tourists looking for the perfect Sri Lankan souvenir.

The dances or kolams , which literally means masks, began fading from the scene in the late 1950s as film burst to the forefront.

Kolam-- a rural dance drama where most characters wear masks--is read by a narrator who describes various village episodes. The characters perform mime and dance and mock authority with impromptu satirical dialogues.

Began More 300 Years Ago

Recently in Ambalangoda, a town 50 miles south of Colombo, townsfolk related how kolam started more than 300 years ago.

“It used to be so popular before the cinemas came,” said 87-year-old Ariyapala Wijesooria. “A kolam dance would be once a month and would go on for eight hours at a stretch. The whole performance lasts four or five nights.”

Known as one of the island’s best mask carvers, Wijesooria is still addressed as “master” by the townsfolk. He was also a dancer, singer and drum beater.

Wijesooria said he learned everything about kolam from his grandfather. He has been passing all his knowledge to his son Bandu, so that kolam could live on.

“We have refused performing in hotels,” said Bandu. “Some kolam characters are sacred to us.”

Many mask shops dot the main roads from Ambalangoda to the south and central hills, catering to tourists looking for souvenirs.

Too Commercialized

But mask carving today has become so commercialized that few carvers use the traditional vegetable dyes for coloring or adhere to the specific methods laid out over generations.

Experts say a number of traditional antique and rare masks were spirited away from the island over the years and can be found either in European museums or in private collections.

“We find it sad that the government . . . has not given much for this folk art,” said Bandu, whose father in 1981 received a special presidential award for his dedication to the dying art.

“My last performance was in 1985, when I acted as the kolam narrator,” said Wijesooria, who continually tapped his leathery fingers as if beating an imaginary drum. “Our family performed kolam in April, but only for about six hours.”

250 Character Masks

The drum is the only instrument accompanying about 25 dancers, who don as many as 250 character masks in a traditional five-night performance.

The mythological origins of kolam say a Hindu god gave the masks and verses to a Sinhalese queen, who had pregnancy cravings to see mask dances.

To please his pregnant queen, the king ordered the verses studied and a mask dance performed.

The present-day kolam starts with a drum-beating narrator followed by dance after dance by the washerman, headman, district chief, king’s guard, soldiers and other village characters of Sri Lanka’s colonial period as the British colony of Ceylon.

The mythological pregnant queen and her adoring king feature as the climax of the performance.