<p>Meera Iyer writes about the conservation and restoration work of Balavana in Puttur, which was a source of inspiration for Jnanapith awardee Kota Shivaram Karanth’s many accomplishments, while also narrating its contribution to the cultural, ecological and educational arena of the State.</p>.<p>An expert in folk dance, an educationist, a social worker, a painter, a film-maker, an environmental activist, a self-taught dancer, a designer, an extraordinary humanist and of course a writer: Kota Shivaram Karanth was a colossus of creative arts. Shivaram Karanth moved to Puttur in 1930 when he was 28. In 1997, the year he died, Karanth wrote a new foreword to his 1943 book Bettada Jeeva, in which he says that in Puttur, he had the opportunity to observe and learn from the daily rhythms of agricultural life all around him. “This,” he says, “became the primary inspiration for my writing.” <br /><br />Balavana in Puttur served as Shivaram Karanth’s home for more than 40 years. This was where he lived and wrote frenetically, creating and breathing life into unforgettable characters like Choma in Chomana Dudi, Gopalaiah in Bettada Jeeva or Mookajji and her grandson from the Jnanpith Award-winning book Mookajjiya Kanasugalu. This was where he worked to bring new direction to Yakshagana. <br /><br />Verdant & inspirational<br /><br />Tucked into a hillside towards the south part of the town, Balavana, spread over six acres, is exactly as you might imagine a writer and spirited environmentalist’s house: verdant, unostentatious and exuding character. His house is actually two houses. Built next to each other, the two houses together define a square courtyard-like space in front of them. The older house is in the local style of architecture, with sloping Mangalore-tiled roofs, a verandah and red oxide floors. The other, slightly newer house, has a different look and feel, with a very unusual spiral staircase in front, which divides the house vertically in two. “He travelled a lot and was very interested in European art and architecture. The new house reflects that,” says danseuse Kshama Rau, Shivaram Karanth’s daughter. <br /><br />In 1973, Karanth decided to move out of Balavana to Saligrama. Balavana was subsequently bought over by the government. When we first visited three years ago, the two-storey house had been converted into a reading room and library, while the old house had a museum chronicling Karanth’s life through photos and other exhibits. It was quite exciting to see the Jnanpith Award and citation, and photographs of the litterateur in the company of other stalwarts from various fields. However, the two houses had a slightly neglected and definitely forgotten feel. <br /><br />Kshama Rau ran through Karanth’s daily routine, helping me picture how he lived in Balavana. Kshama recalls that there were plenty of visitors who came from all around the world — research scholars, students, friends, they all found a welcome in Balavana. Karanth had planted several sampige and mango trees near the house, a few of which still survive. He also raised an orchard of mango and chikoo trees. Kshama recalls how he would sometimes use his walking stick to pull down their branches and pluck fruits. <br /><br />Behind the two residences is another building, today called the Natyashaala. This was where Karanth ran a school for a short period. Partly inspired by Maria Montessori, he conceptualised a school where children would learn through play and from nature, and not through rote learning from books. This school was named Balavana. But the idea was too radical for the 1930s and few families entrusted their children to his care. The school was consequently shut down. In later years, the same building also functioned as a printing press, which Karanth established and operated for a few years. <br /><br />The government’s management of Balavana appears to have been desultory. In the early 2000s, under the misguided zeal of an administrator, the fruit orchard planted by Karanth was cut down and replaced by a large swimming pool. A further section of trees was cut down for a children’s playground. Later, a portion of the hillside was cut away to accommodate a new skating rink, which ironically was later deemed unfit for skating. The idea behind all this construction was apparently to infuse new life into Balavana. Although the pool is an extremely popular addition to Puttur, Kshama Rau is disappointed with how recent developments in Balavana have veered away from Karanth’s ideals. <br /><br />She adds, “There seems to be a feeling that Shivaram Karanth’s Balavana was all about children. But that is not true.” Although Karanth did indeed have forward-thinking ideas on children’s education, he, and by extension Balavana, was much more than that. The Jnanpith Award, for example, commends him for ‘his pervasive human sympathy, his uncompromising honesty, his authentic social reflection, the deep appreciation of nature and his lively sense of humour and satire.’ Apart from everything else, given his passion and sensitivity towards nature, it is indeed galling so see so many trees felled in Balavana. <br /><br />Restoration work<br /><br />To ensure that further development in Balavana happened in concordance with Shivaram Karanth’s vision, the State government set up two committees to guide its future development. The state-level committee, comprising Karanth’s children, experts from different fields and government officials, is instrumental in providing direction to such development. Two years ago, when there was a proposal to demolish the old house and replace it with a modern structure, the move was quashed, thanks to the intervention of the committee.<br /><br />Earlier this year, the Bengaluru chapter of the Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage (INTACH) was appointed to restore the old house in Balavana. Its conservation and restoration is now underway, in consultation with the state-and local-level committees. In accordance with the principles of conservation, the materials being used are as close as possible to the originals, as are the methods of reconstruction. Thus, for example, the team prepared lime mortar on site for use in plastering. Portions of the mud walls that had been damaged were strengthened with mud prepared the same way as is traditionally done. Minor changes made to the building in the last few years, such as for example, wall colouring and some windows, are being removed. “When completed, the house will be just as it was in Karanth’s time,” says C Aravind, a coordinator at INTACH. <br /><br />There are also plans for cultural activities in Balavana. Art shows, artists’ residences, theatre and nature camps, writer workshops…the possibilities are endless, and it is exciting to think that future visits to Balavana might see it once again abuzz with activity, just as it did when Shivaram Karanth lived there. </p>
<p>Meera Iyer writes about the conservation and restoration work of Balavana in Puttur, which was a source of inspiration for Jnanapith awardee Kota Shivaram Karanth’s many accomplishments, while also narrating its contribution to the cultural, ecological and educational arena of the State.</p>.<p>An expert in folk dance, an educationist, a social worker, a painter, a film-maker, an environmental activist, a self-taught dancer, a designer, an extraordinary humanist and of course a writer: Kota Shivaram Karanth was a colossus of creative arts. Shivaram Karanth moved to Puttur in 1930 when he was 28. In 1997, the year he died, Karanth wrote a new foreword to his 1943 book Bettada Jeeva, in which he says that in Puttur, he had the opportunity to observe and learn from the daily rhythms of agricultural life all around him. “This,” he says, “became the primary inspiration for my writing.” <br /><br />Balavana in Puttur served as Shivaram Karanth’s home for more than 40 years. This was where he lived and wrote frenetically, creating and breathing life into unforgettable characters like Choma in Chomana Dudi, Gopalaiah in Bettada Jeeva or Mookajji and her grandson from the Jnanpith Award-winning book Mookajjiya Kanasugalu. This was where he worked to bring new direction to Yakshagana. <br /><br />Verdant & inspirational<br /><br />Tucked into a hillside towards the south part of the town, Balavana, spread over six acres, is exactly as you might imagine a writer and spirited environmentalist’s house: verdant, unostentatious and exuding character. His house is actually two houses. Built next to each other, the two houses together define a square courtyard-like space in front of them. The older house is in the local style of architecture, with sloping Mangalore-tiled roofs, a verandah and red oxide floors. The other, slightly newer house, has a different look and feel, with a very unusual spiral staircase in front, which divides the house vertically in two. “He travelled a lot and was very interested in European art and architecture. The new house reflects that,” says danseuse Kshama Rau, Shivaram Karanth’s daughter. <br /><br />In 1973, Karanth decided to move out of Balavana to Saligrama. Balavana was subsequently bought over by the government. When we first visited three years ago, the two-storey house had been converted into a reading room and library, while the old house had a museum chronicling Karanth’s life through photos and other exhibits. It was quite exciting to see the Jnanpith Award and citation, and photographs of the litterateur in the company of other stalwarts from various fields. However, the two houses had a slightly neglected and definitely forgotten feel. <br /><br />Kshama Rau ran through Karanth’s daily routine, helping me picture how he lived in Balavana. Kshama recalls that there were plenty of visitors who came from all around the world — research scholars, students, friends, they all found a welcome in Balavana. Karanth had planted several sampige and mango trees near the house, a few of which still survive. He also raised an orchard of mango and chikoo trees. Kshama recalls how he would sometimes use his walking stick to pull down their branches and pluck fruits. <br /><br />Behind the two residences is another building, today called the Natyashaala. This was where Karanth ran a school for a short period. Partly inspired by Maria Montessori, he conceptualised a school where children would learn through play and from nature, and not through rote learning from books. This school was named Balavana. But the idea was too radical for the 1930s and few families entrusted their children to his care. The school was consequently shut down. In later years, the same building also functioned as a printing press, which Karanth established and operated for a few years. <br /><br />The government’s management of Balavana appears to have been desultory. In the early 2000s, under the misguided zeal of an administrator, the fruit orchard planted by Karanth was cut down and replaced by a large swimming pool. A further section of trees was cut down for a children’s playground. Later, a portion of the hillside was cut away to accommodate a new skating rink, which ironically was later deemed unfit for skating. The idea behind all this construction was apparently to infuse new life into Balavana. Although the pool is an extremely popular addition to Puttur, Kshama Rau is disappointed with how recent developments in Balavana have veered away from Karanth’s ideals. <br /><br />She adds, “There seems to be a feeling that Shivaram Karanth’s Balavana was all about children. But that is not true.” Although Karanth did indeed have forward-thinking ideas on children’s education, he, and by extension Balavana, was much more than that. The Jnanpith Award, for example, commends him for ‘his pervasive human sympathy, his uncompromising honesty, his authentic social reflection, the deep appreciation of nature and his lively sense of humour and satire.’ Apart from everything else, given his passion and sensitivity towards nature, it is indeed galling so see so many trees felled in Balavana. <br /><br />Restoration work<br /><br />To ensure that further development in Balavana happened in concordance with Shivaram Karanth’s vision, the State government set up two committees to guide its future development. The state-level committee, comprising Karanth’s children, experts from different fields and government officials, is instrumental in providing direction to such development. Two years ago, when there was a proposal to demolish the old house and replace it with a modern structure, the move was quashed, thanks to the intervention of the committee.<br /><br />Earlier this year, the Bengaluru chapter of the Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage (INTACH) was appointed to restore the old house in Balavana. Its conservation and restoration is now underway, in consultation with the state-and local-level committees. In accordance with the principles of conservation, the materials being used are as close as possible to the originals, as are the methods of reconstruction. Thus, for example, the team prepared lime mortar on site for use in plastering. Portions of the mud walls that had been damaged were strengthened with mud prepared the same way as is traditionally done. Minor changes made to the building in the last few years, such as for example, wall colouring and some windows, are being removed. “When completed, the house will be just as it was in Karanth’s time,” says C Aravind, a coordinator at INTACH. <br /><br />There are also plans for cultural activities in Balavana. Art shows, artists’ residences, theatre and nature camps, writer workshops…the possibilities are endless, and it is exciting to think that future visits to Balavana might see it once again abuzz with activity, just as it did when Shivaram Karanth lived there. </p>
