Violence—global and local—forms an unsettling theme in the latest productions by two primarily Hindi-language groups, Padatik / rikh- and The Creative Arts Academy.
Vinay Sharma loves to send me scurrying to do theatre homework which, I confess, I love doing anyway. A favourite technique of his is to cook up a kedgeree of unnamed texts in his kitchen, now titled Kirchen (Splinters), that gets me scratching my head about the ingredients’ origins. Of course, this goes back to deconstructionist fragmentation and reassembly, which we have become familiar with. Sharma’s main Kirchen boards are Max Frisch’s The Arsonists (aka Fire Raisers or Firebugs) and Dharamvir Bharati’s Andhā Yug, upon which many other splinters coalesce. Digging for treasure-hunt clues to link this improbable pair, I discovered to my pleasant surprise that both emerged 70 years ago, first voiced as radio drama: Arsonists (in German) over Bayrischer Munich in 1953 and Andhā Yug over Akashvani (Allahabad) in 1954.
As everyone knows, both had their genesis in the devastating violence of World War II and the Partition of India respectively. Kirchen begins against videos of nature that turn to war, projected on splintered screens—not what we expect from Sharma’s “minimalist” Theatre in Jeans series for Padatik—into which enter two groups: the sentries on Kurukshetra in Andhā Yug and the chorus of firemen in Arsonists. In the tradition of modern metatheatre, Sharma creates his own take on Pirandello’s Henry IV and Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, his teleported dramatis personae seeking fulfilment of their identity as fictional inventions, and their existentialist purpose as the most dispensable anonymities in their plays, trapped forever in repeated mouthing of the same lines.
The seven young actors, learning the tricks of the trade, make a strong impression as a team, though their individual story-sharing by turns becomes predictable. The most harrowing impact comes from the anecdote of the birds in the zoo in William Mastrosimone’s The Woolgatherer, possibly Sharma’s response to violence against women, its allegorical meaning according to some interpreters.
The Creative Arts Academy’s UnMasked commences spookily, as a troupe in identical white masks and costumes finishes their performance to applause, immediately interrupted by people outside banging on the doors threatening them for staging objectionable matter (with an allusion to the Nātyasāstra where demons protested the representation of their loss). Forced to lock themselves in overnight, the actors’ masks come off and solitary tribulations take over. Director Ramanjit Kaur’s truthful statement that “intimate relationships can offer a sanctuary from a world of facades” ironically undermines the therapeutic strength of theatre, itself a world of pretence!
She should develop the stunning first scene much more, for she has not tackled the subject of intimidation of artists previously. On the other hand, she has supervised several productions where actors relate their personal trials and inner struggles, some similar to those here. Her stagecraft optimizes the small ground-floor studio, from the staircase down to the limited acting area demarcated by Daulat Vaid’s fluorescent strip lights. In a complement of twenty, the experienced seniors as well as beginning juniors show no unevenness in acting, testifying to no inequality in training.
14 October 2024