Culture lovers are in for a treat as the 17th edition of Utsavam–IKKF, one of the UAE's most anticipated celebrations of Kerala's classical performing arts, returns from November 28 to 30, 2025. Set against the elegant backdrop of GEMS Wellington International School in Dubai, the festival promises three vibrant days of music, movement, and timeless tradition.

Over the past 17 years, Utsavam has evolved into a cultural landmark, an event that honours Kerala's artistic heritage while nurturing its relevance for modern audiences. Through immersive performances and passionate storytelling, the festival champions the preservation and promotion of classical art forms, drawing in enthusiasts from across the region. This year's edition promises an exceptional programme featuring some of Kerala's most revered performing traditions, including Koodiyattam, Kathakali, Keli, and Thaayampaka. Adding emotional resonance, each day will also celebrate a legendary maestro whose artistic legacy continues to inspire generations.

A striking highlight of Utsavam 2025 is the strong female artistic presence gracing the stage. Audiences can look forward to powerful performances by Dr Kalamandalam Krishnendu, Induja Cheruliyil, Kalamandalam Prasanthi, and rising star Rahitha Krishnadas - each bringing a distinct voice, style, and mastery to this international platform. Ahead of the event, Wknd. caught up with the artistes to explore their creative journeys.

Dr Kalamandalam Krishnendu is a multi-award-winning artiste whose work has been featured at major cultural festivals across India and abroad and she has taught and conducted workshops at leading theatre institutions. A PhD holder and now an Assistant Professor at Kerala Kalamandalam, Dr Krishnendu has contributed original research and choreography and remains a vital force in preserving and evolving Kutiyattam and Nangiarkuthu.

Excerpts from an interview:

You were among the earliest women to pursue Kutiyattam academically. What do you remember about those early days of crossing thresholds?

Since we were the first batch of the Koodiyattam M.A. programme, our time marked a turning point-a transition from tradition to modernity. After completing my studies, I faced challenges that naturally arise when trying to establish oneself in the performing arts field, and it was through sheer willpower that I overcame them. I cannot forget the support that Kalamandalam offered during this phase.

You've portrayed some of Kutiyattam's most complex male characters- Ravana, Arjuna, Bhima-roles rarely attempted by women. What artistic or emotional discoveries did these performances unlock for you?

The primary energy behind performing male characters comes from the rigorous training that demands precise and disciplined practice.

Mental preparation is another crucial aspect. As a woman, I studied and performed male characters from the understanding that men and women differ completely in their internal experiences and behavioural expressions. The challenge lies in conveying this subtle distinction while staying within the established structure.

When you create or reinterpret a narrative, how do you balance fidelity to tradition with your instincts as a contemporary artist?

Art forms like Koodiyattam rely on traditional narratives as their plot base. What matters is how we interpret Puranic storylines within contemporary sensibilities.

A mode of interpretation has the power to shift or overturn the layers of meaning in a story. When that happens, even if the narrative is ancient, the presentation becomes contemporary. I believe the next generation are also capable of defining art through a contemporary perspective.

When Kathakali artist and high-school science teacher Induja Cheruliyil speaks about her art, she often describes herself as“still a child in the Kathakali world”. It's a disarming confession from an accomplished performer who has played everything from Urvashi and Mohini to Bheeman, Hanuman, Arjuna, Karna, Ravana, and Krishna. Yet it captures the essence of her journey - one rooted in curiosity, humility, and an unwavering desire to keep learning.

Trained under the renowned Kalamandalam Sajan since 2006, Induja debuted in 2008 and has since built an impressive repertoire across classical and contemporary works.

Excerpts from an interview:

You began training in Kathakali at a young age. When you look back, what was the moment that transformed Kathakali from something you practiced to a world you fully belonged to?

I began with dance and Carnatic music. My dance teacher, Smt. Sreela, started a Kathakali class at her centre with my Asan, Kalamandalam Sajan. Around the same time, there was a TV show about noted kathakali artiste Kalamandalam Hyderali. Watching it sparked a deep interest in me, and all these moments came together like a coincidence. That's how I began studying under Sajan Asan. I also learned Kathakali Sangeetham for a short period under Manoj Pullur Sir.

Even today, I feel I am still a child in the Kathakali world, doing it out of passion rather than as a profession.

Your repertoire moves between the delicate and the formidable - from Urvashi and Mohini to Bheeman, Hanuman, Arjuna, Karna, and even Ravana. What has performing such contrasting energies taught you about the body and its emotional possibilities?

For every character, I still seek guidance from Sri Sajan. I also watch the performances of great artistes, try to capture their essence, and interpret it in my own way.

Purushaveshams [male characters] definitely require more stamina and energy compared to Sthreevesham [female characters]. As performers, we must study the mental state of each character. This understanding helps us prepare both mentally and physically for the transformation that Kathakali demands.

Your family is deeply rooted in classical arts. How has this environment shaped you as a performer and a teacher?

My parents have always been my strongest companions accompanying me to every performance and never once asked me to pause my practice, even during school or college exams. My father, an ardent Kathakali enthusiast, is still my closest critic. He discusses new and traditional attams [performances] with me, helping me refine my art. My sister, also a Kathakali artist, gives me honest feedback and valuable suggestions.

My husband, a Chenda artist by passion, is my constant motivator-a true mental booster who inspires me to give my best. My mother and mother-in-law, the silent pillars of my life, support me endlessly and help care for my children. Their support allows me to balance motherhood and my artistic journey.

You juggle two demanding callings: teaching and Kathakali. How do these worlds inform each other?

Teaching is my profession, Kathakali is my passion. I believe excellence in one field fuels growth in the other. A strong performance energises my teaching, and the discipline and clarity I gain from teaching enrich my artistry. This synergy helps me thrive both as an educator and an artist.

As someone who has performed both traditional and modern works, what do you hope the next generation understands about this art form?

Many new Attakkathas {acts] have been written in recent times, but audiences and the tradition itself still favour stories rooted in the Puranas. Because of this, newer works often struggle to gain acceptance when compared to the highly refined, centuries-old Attakkathas like Nalacharitam and Dakshayagam.

Kathakali's supernatural characters and intricate mudras pose a challenge for the younger generation. While many promising young artistes are emerging, the number of young audience members remains limited. However, initiatives such as online mudra classes, Aswathana [appreciation] sessions, and Kathakali club performances are encouraging steps. For Kathakali to grow and remain relevant, both government and private institutions must extend financial support to these cultural activities.

In the quiet theatrical sanctums of Kerala, where tradition is not simply taught but lived, Kalamandalam Prasanthi has emerged as one of the most compelling contemporary voices of Kutiyattam and Nangiar Kuthu. Currently Assistant Professor at Kerala Kalamandalam Deemed University for Art and Culture, she is a performer-scholar whose journey is rooted in devotion, discipline, and a profound reverence for the arts.

Her artistic foundation is formidable. A First Rank holder in BA Kutiyattam (2011), she has since completed her MA and MPhil and is now pursuing a PhD, all from the same institution that shaped her: Kerala Kalamandalam. Trained under masters such as Kalamandalam Rama Chakyar, Padmasree Kalamandalam Sivan Namboothiri, Kalamandalam Girija Devi, and others, Prasanthi credits her teachers for instilling not only technique, but artistic responsibility.“Kutiyattam is both delicate and sacred,” she says, reflecting the reverence with which she continues to approach the form.“Every exploration must deepen the essence of tradition, not diminish it.”

As a performer, she has presented roles as varied as Subhadra, Sita, Draupadi, Lalitha, and even Ravana, characters that demand emotional immersion and psychological depth.“Every character opens a new world,” she explains, admitting that some roles stay with her for days.

Her work has been recognised with honours including the State Award from Kshetra Kala Academy (2022), and the Bharatam Yuva Puraskar (2019). As an empanelled SPICMACAY artist, she has carried Kutiyattam to major stages in India and abroad.

Yet for Prasanthi, art is not only about the applause of performance, it is pedagogy, responsibility, and continuity.“I still see myself as a student,” she says,“captivated by the emotional architecture of the art and the profound philosophy behind it.”

Excerpts from an interview:

What first drew you into the world of Kutiyattam and Nangiar Kuthu?

I am from Chelakkara in Thrissur, where Sri Painkulam Rama Chakyar and his family have performed traditional theatre for generations. My father, Chelakkara Jayan, was an Ilathalam artist in Panchavadyam, and I often accompanied him to performances. One that remains unforgettable is Shurpanakhankam; its grandeur captivated me completely.

In Class 8, my parents enrolled me at Kerala Kalamandalam to study Kutiyattam formally. Watching performances from such close quarters and experiencing the rigour of training deepened my love for the art.

Your repertoire spans characters from Subhadra and Sita to Draupadi and even Ravana. How do you prepare to move between such contrasting emotional worlds?

Every character opens a new world. Subhadra is gentle and composed; Sita embodies perseverance and quiet strength; Draupadi represents unshakeable justice; Lalitha radiates passion and love; while Ravana expresses intense desire and emotional turbulence.

To truly inhabit these roles, I often stay in their emotional space for days. Alongside emotional immersion, I rely on craft including voice, breath, physicality, and mental focus, so each portrayal feels honest and alive for the audience.

When you reinterpret classical narratives, how do you balance tradition with contemporary relevance?

Kutiyattam is sacred, and I approach reinterpretation with great care. My first question is always:“Does this change deepen the essence of the story?” Guided by the wisdom of my gurus, I introduce subtle interpretative choices-nuances of sentiment, updated gender perspectives, or emotional re-readings-so the art resonates with audiences today without disturbing its classical core. The intention is not to change tradition, but to keep it vibrant and meaningful.

As an educator, what do today's students find most challenging, and what gives you hope about the future of Kutiyattam?

I still see myself as a student fascinated by the psychological depth of characters, the architecture of emotions, and the profound philosophy of the Natyashastra. Students today share that same wonder. Their challenges lie in the demands of training - long practice, concentration, and the coordination of body and mind. But when they persevere and transform, it brings immense joy.

Kutiyattam has survived tides of change for centuries, and seeing young artists embrace it with sincerity and passion gives me great hope.

I believe the art will continue to flourish and inspire generations to come.

From the moment she first picked up the chenda [a percussion instrument] at six, guided by her father and guru Kalamandalam Krishnadas, Rahitha Krishnadas has been shaping a remarkable musical journey.

She made her Arangettam (stage debut) at just seven, launching a career that has already crossed 1,000 stages and brought the power and precision of Kerala's percussion traditions to audiences across India and beyond. Trained at Margi Kathakali School and backed by an impressive list of awards including being the first woman to win first prize in both Thayambaka and Chenda Melam at the Kerala State Youth Festival, Rahitha stands today as one of the most compelling young voices carrying this legacy forward.

Excerpts from an interview:

Your Arangettam at seven marked the beginning of a lifelong relationship with rhythm. How did that early start shape you?

I began learning the chenda at six. My father taught at Margi, and I would stand outside his class keeping rhythm. When I asked to learn, he first refused. I still don't know whether it was because of the instrument's physical demands or because I was a girl. Eventually, after seeing my persistence, he agreed. The plan was for me to stop after my debut, but I began receiving opportunities to perform, and I insisted on continuing. After each event, my father would tell me,“Let's continue for just one more year.” That became eighteen years. Today, the art is inseparable from who I am.

Growing up with your father as both parent and guru must have shaped your discipline. How did this dynamic influence your practice?

When I said I wanted to learn the chenda, my father set two strict conditions: I would be trained like any other student, and my academic performance could never suffer. He never relaxed these rules because I was his daughter. Every day he took my sister and me to practice at 5 a.m., and only at home did he shift from guru to father. Maintaining this clear distinction has been one of my most valuable lessons.

With over a thousand performances across formats, what has this range taught you about tradition and experimentation in Kerala's percussion culture?

While many artists bring innovation to the art form, I've observed that most audiences still prefer the essence of tradition-performances rooted in classical foundations with thoughtful improvisations that don't dilute authenticity. Such appreciative audiences are especially strong in northern Kerala and outside the state.

You're practising an art form traditionally dominated by men. Were there moments when you felt you were breaking ground for yourself or others?

When I began, I didn't realise Chenda was considered a male-dominated art. It was only my passion that made my father teach me. As I progressed, I saw that fewer women were pursuing it, likely due to physical and social constraints. But there were always women before me, and today I'm happy to see many more stepping in with confidence. Watching this growth gives me joy and reinforces that women, too, can preserve and promote this powerful tradition.

What does the Chenda mean to you today - beyond tradition or performance?

The chenda now holds an irreplaceable place in my life. It carries a lineage-from my father's grandfather to his uncle, then to my father, and unexpectedly, to me. Even today, when my father attends my performances, his feedback is only“acceptable” or“not enough.” At home, he immediately begins correcting my mistakes. I hope to keep learning from him and deepening my understanding. For me, the chenda is not just an instrument; it is a legacy I'm committed to carrying forward.

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