Ever seen a performance where gods fight demons under a starlit sky, dancers swirl in mirror-studded armour, and a crown speaks louder than words? Welcome to Yakshagana, Karnataka’s spectacular folk theatre tradition that’s not just a show—it's an entire cultural universe.For many of us growing up or having our roots in the Tulunadu regions of coastal Karnataka, Yakshagana wasn’t something you had to ‘learn about’. It was in the air. The drumbeats, the elaborate costumes and the artists getting ready to perform and painting their faces—that was how stories lived and breathed in our world. And now, with the Indian Craft Hunt, we’re taking you backstage, deep into the craft, colour, and cultural fire of this 700-year-old tradition.Yakshagana is a high-energy folk theatre form combining dance, dialogue, music, and makeup, performed overnight in open-air stages. It's vivid, loud, deeply emotional storytelling. Originating around the 14th century, Yakshagana performances are drawn from the Mahabharat, Ramayan, and regional legends. Think epic battles, divine interventions, moral dilemmas, and redemption arcs—all unfolding with the help of powerful choreography and larger-than-life costumes.Each performance is called a prasang, and each role—be it the god Krishna or the demon Ravan—is inhabited so completely by the actor that the boundary between performer and character dissolves. That's where the costume and craft come in..Here’s where things get fascinating. In Yakshagana, the costume is not just an accessory—it IS the identity. The moment a performer dons the kirita (headgear) or the kaasu-male (coin garland), they aren’t just acting like a deity or demon. They become one.The artistry behind these costumes is intense. Ornaments are handcrafted using lightweight wood, coloured glass, and mirror pieces, and covered with gold foil—not real gold, but shimmering enough under lamp light to make anyone look divine. No metal is used, except for the anklets (gejje) on their feet. Elaborate shoulder pads, chest plates (kavacha), and intricately painted masks turn actors into walking sculptures of folklore.The makeup too is symbolic. Red for valour, green for peace, and black for evil. Facial lines are drawn with surgical precision, sometimes even by the artists themselves. Each brushstroke is based on ancient rules from the Natyashastra, India’s classical performance manual.And then there’s the sari—specifically the handwoven Kase saree, a checked cotton textile worn in both male and female roles (stree vesha). These sarees come from the looms of Udupi, Surathkal, and Mangalore, and were once woven exclusively for Yakshagana. Today, mass-produced synthetics have crept in, but revivalists are working hard to preserve these heritage weaves..But Yakshagana is more than just fashion—it’s a form of wisdom transmission. Through larger-than-life battles and poetic songs, it teaches dharma (righteousness), karma (action), and the complexity of human choices.Youth today might swipe past these stories on streaming apps but Yakshagana demands that you pause—and feel. It makes storytelling interactive. The bhagavata (lead singer-narrator) improvises based on the audience. And guess what? This form isn’t stuck in the past. Troupes have taken Yakshagana to international stages. Performers like Amba Prasada Patala, known for his iconic female roles, and the famed Keremane family have helped keep it alive across generations. Even filmmaker Rishab Shetty's cult hit, Kantara, was inspired by the ethos of Yakshagana’s cousin form, Bhoota Kola—another ritualistic coastal performance tradition.At the heart of Yakshagana is craftsmanship—not just in the costumes, but in the way a community comes together. Local woodworkers, mirror artisans, weavers, and tailors all play a role in bringing this larger-than-life storytelling to life!Cheaper alternatives, plastic jewels, and shorter performances are replacing traditional practices. But change isn’t always bad—some young artists are reviving natural dyes, collaborating with fashion designers, and turning Yakshagana headgear into wearable art for festivals and exhibitions.Because when you wear culture on your head—or your sleeve—you don’t just keep history alive. You let it dance