There is a lot of room for interpretation in Snails and Ketchup. How much do you, as a performer, choose to trust your audience?
I’ve got to trust that the audience will engage with the work. I do think that with my performances, you can’t just sit back and be entertained—if you do, you might miss a detail or two. I don’t want to patronize any audience and spoon feed them. I want them to make their own interpretation of the visual language and range of visual elements used.

You’ve said before that you’d rather be seen as a good artist, rather than a deaf artist [Meyyappan is hearing-impaired.] Do you feel you’ve become appreciated as such? Where do you blur the lines between the two?
I want my work to be judged on merit. I’ve aimed to develop a universal aesthetic that can be judged and enjoyed equally with anything that is produced by a hearing performer.

What are some of the challenges of binding your narrative to aerial choreography? How did you overcome them?
Oh many! After much intense training and learning very simple aerial techniques, I could climb a rope! However, I had to learn how to move from one rope to another in order to suggest movement through a forest. This was a challenge and really did require a great deal more training. I also had to ensure that the characters were still clear, and not just show off techniques.

Since your first performance, your audience has grown and diversified. What do you think accounts for this diversification?
I think the diversification has developed because, in general, theater is adding and experimenting with a new range of styles. Theater makers are realizing that if they combine different elements or styles, they can appeal to a larger audience. To target such an audience, I’m constantly trying to extend and develop my own visual vocabulary to make my work resonate.

Catch Ramesh Meyyappan's work in Snails and Ketchup.