Image by Ekansh chhetri from Pixabay
As we envision opera, we picture great European theaters, operatic arias, and regal costumes. But behind the velvet drapes of Western theatrical history, there is a surprising influence from the vivid, expressive realm of Kathputli, India's classical puppet art. This centuries-old Rajasthan folk form, with its colorful narrative and dramatic imagery, has insidiously left its stamp on the world of opera, particularly in costume design. Let's embark on a journey from India's dry villages to Europe's great opera houses and find out how small wooden puppets dancing on strings contributed to some of the most recognizable stage costumes in Western theatre.
Kathputli is one of India's most ancient traditions of puppetry, with a history that dates back more than a thousand years. "Kathputli" is derived from two Rajasthani terms, kath (wood) and putli (doll). Literally as its names suggest, these are wooden dolls manipulated with strings and brought to life by the skilled hands of puppeteers called Bhats, a traditional cast of people in Rajasthan. The typical Kathputli show is a feast for the eyes. The puppets dress in tiny replicas of traditional Rajasthani clothing, flowing dresses, embroidered shirts, and intricately adorned turbans, all crafted from highly coloured fabric. Their faces are painted on with large, expressive eyes and curved eyebrows. These puppets don't move or dance; they perform full-fledged stories, including dialogue, music, and emotion. The tales narrated usually deal with royal courts, heroic wars, local folklore, and social lessons. Supporting the performance are the traditional instruments of dholak (hand drum) and sarangi (stringed instrument), making the show entertaining as well as informative. Though tiny in size, Kathputli puppets bear the burden of the full theatrical performance costumes, drama, music, and emotion.
In the 18th and 19th centuries, European artists, merchants, and travelers started coming to India in search of its exotic beauty and artistic wealth. They were fascinated by Indian fabrics, art, and performances. Among all the many things of interest they saw, Kathputli's performance attracted them with its combination of visual beauty and dramatic storytelling. Some visitors recorded these performances with drawings and diaries. Others returned with real-life puppets, costumes, or fabric swatches. These images started to make the rounds among artists, customers, and opera producers in Europe. Gradually but surely, the look of Kathputli, its vibrant colours, build-up textures, and over-the-top expressions, started to find its way into the designs of opera costumes, particularly in operas that attempted to represent exotic or distant cultures. In operas like Turandot (originally set in ancient China), Lakme (based on colonial India), and The Pearl Fishers (set in Sri Lanka), designers did not have actual Eastern worlds to draw inspiration from. So, they used their imagination. And that imagination was not imaginative in a vacuum, it was inspired by real Indian art and costume references like the colorful appearance of Kathputli puppets.
Kathputli's influence on the design of opera costumes is more than a mere romantic notion; we can see it when comparing the two. These are some amazing similarities:
It's worth noting that opera and Kathputli both developed in extremely different cultural contexts. But their unexpected link reveals how art crosses borders. Such cross-cultural inspiration isn't always documented in history books, but it survives in the fabrics, motifs, and visual vocabulary of the stage. Kathputli may not be as widely recognized as opera, but its influence is proof that even the smallest forms of art can cast a large shadow. In an era where East and West are often viewed as separate spheres, the story of Kathputli and opera reminds us that art has always been a shared language of color, expression, and creativity.
While opera remains popular in Western nations with well-endowed institutions and international audiences, Kathputli can barely survive in contemporary India. Traditional puppeteers are often impoverished, with fewer chances to perform. Efforts, however, are being made to revive interest in this moribund art form. An example of this is the Kathputli Colony in Delhi, a cluster of puppeteers, magicians, and actors who strive to preserve folk heritage. NGOs and art foundations are also working towards presenting Kathputli to city dwellers through festivals, school workshops, and online portals. Interestingly, as global fashion and theater continue to look to traditional crafts for inspiration, there is a renewed appreciation for Kathputli’s design elements. Costume designers, both in India and abroad, are revisiting these motifs, proving that this ancient puppet art still has a place on the world stage.
The tale of Kathputli and European opera costume is more than a visual influence story; it's a paean to the way art forms address one another over time and space. A puppet dancing on strings in a desert square in Rajasthan might have inspired a soprano's dress on a Vienna or Paris stage. In a world constantly looking for new sources of creativity, Kathputli reminds us that sometimes, the most extraordinary inspiration comes from the humblest places. So the next time you watch an opera or admire a stage costume, remember that behind that glittering fabric might be the echo of wooden puppets dancing in the desert wind.