Divine
show
As we
celebrate the victory of the good over the evil on Dasehra, Nonika
Singh takes a look at how religion has always inspired
art and theatre
THESE
are stories that have been told time and again, as most of us
have grown up listening to these tales of valour, truthfulness,
sacrifice, heroism and more. Whether we still remain intrigued
by these folklore or not, religion and myths are recurring
themes in both theatre and the world of performing arts, as
artistes continue to get inspired.
In India, religion
and art have always been inextricably linked. Our classical
arts, many of which originated in temples, are steeped in the
communion with the divine. Even in contemporary theatre as well
as related fields like the light-and-sound, the pervasive
influence of religion can always be felt.
Years ago, Aamir
Raza Husain created a stir with his adaptation of the Ramayana
in The Legend of Ram that unfolded on a grand scale in
New Delhi — on 19 sets, stretching across three acres, having
35 characters and a 100-member crew.
Today, Harbux
Singh Latta is all set to present the old story again in a new
format. The epic extravaganza of the Ramayana, in a
sight-and-sound format, is set to open in New York on Diwali,
while Dr Sahib Singh’s play Guru Maneyo Granth
on significant chapters of Sikh religion will be presented
before Chandigarh audience soon.
Harcharan Singh’s
Chamkaur Di Garhi has been successfully staged by Harpal
Tiwana, both in India and abroad, while Gurdial Singh Phul’s
plays Jin Sach Pale Hove and Sab Kich Hot Upaye, too,
have been enacted many times.
What is it about
our great fables and religious history that continue to tempt
artistes? The answer is simple — the universal and timeless
relevance of the values they present. Besides, religion and its
teachings often provide a perfect peg to theatre persons to ‘hang’
their own point of view.
For instance,
while Gursharan Singh’s play Chandni Chowk to Sarhand Teek
encapsulates the martyrdom of Guru Teg Bahadur and the
sacrifices of Guru Gobind Singh’s valiant sons, it also
carried a contemporary statement. Written during the Emergency
days, it makes veiled references to the establishment’s
autocratic ways, atrocities and the counter-rebellion.
Similarly, Dr
Atamjit wrote about the martyrdom of Guru Arjun Dev in his
Sahitya Akademi Award-winning play Tatti Tawi Da Sach.
Though he insists that his is not a strictly religious play in
the sense that it does not propagate religious chauvinism,
rather it throws light on the great Guru, who, he asserts, stood
for the secular fabric of our culture.
Of course, not all
plays go beyond the obvious chronicle encapsulation of events.
Often, most plays simply recreate the grandeur of yore. Theatre
persons like Latta see no harm in it. He may have scripted some
of the Ramayana scenes afresh but feels, "The tale
of Maryada Purshottam Ram, merely stating what he stood
for, is enough to inspire the new generations."
Interestingly,
while staging religious plays there is no way one can take
liberty with established historical facts, the creative freedom
is not compromised in the process. Rather, there is ample scope
for flexing creative muscle. Says Amritsar-based theatre person
Kewal Dhaliwal, "Be it design, costumes or presentation,
one can improvise and innovate. This is not the theatre of
realism but one where one can sail on the wings of
fantasy."
Agrees theatre
person and designer Mahendra Kumar, who has used multimedia in
his play Gagan Mein Thaal, based on Guru Nanak
Dev. "In Greece, where theatre originated, it actually
began with rituals. To begin with, it was a song Dithyranbs sang
in the praise of God Dionysus, the god of fertility, wine and
food. Slowly, it took the form of a performance."
In fact, many
Sanskrit dramas have been penned around mythological episodes.
Over the years, this link has been highlighted further. Plays
like Girish Karnad’s Agni Aur Barkha are based on
rituals. Others playwrights like Nand Kishore Acharya, too, have
reinvented myths from a new perspective. His play Dehaantar presents
Yayati’s tale as the man who exchanges his old age with the
youth of his son from a woman’s angle.
In fact, Sahib
Singh is quite clear that unless myths and the religious history
are presented with a fresh vision, there is little point in
simply reiterating them.
Atamjit asserts
that unless plays analyse or introspect, they have no relevance.
Of course, at
times telling it another way can boomerang, as sensibilities and
religious sentiments are easily irked in our country. Kewal
Dhaliwal recalls how his play Krishan, which drew a
parallel between politics of yesteryear and present day, raised
the hackles of some Hindu right wing organisations. He had to
shelve the play, and says that he was even grilled by some
zealous Hindu activists, who had not even seen the play.
Atamjit feels such
incidents can block scope for introspection. Though it has not
deterred him from writing Panchnad Da Paani, which seeks
inspiration from Hindu mythology. He is now planning to write a
play on Goddess Durga.
Dhaliwal, who
considers Krishan as his best-designed play, has directed
and designed more than 25 religious plays, including Kurukshetra
and Chakravyuh. His latest play Chandi Di Vaar is
about Guru Gobind Singh’s long poem on Goddess Durga.
Nevertheless, theatre persons are aware of the challenge and
pitfalls of re-interpreting religious plays. Without doubt,
theatre persons have to walk the razor’s edge, as nobody knows
which dialogue and assertion might offend people.
Religious plays
involve many other challenges as well. After all dramatising a
story, whose climax is already known to its viewers and yet
retaining their interest, is an onerous task.
In depicting Sikh
religious history, theatre persons face another peculiar
predicament — Sikh gurus cannot be depicted in flesh and
blood. Yet, they have overcome the challenge of not showing
their lead protagonists, the gurus, with remarkable ingenuity.
Sahib Singh feels
that this stricture has worked to their advantage, "While
it maintains the sanctity of the gurus, it also allows us room
to think of ingenious ways."
But not all plays
woven around religious themes can be called artistic. Often many
productions go overboard, are melodramatic, overtly sentimental,
and monotonously linear. In the name of religion, many shoddy
productions are lapped up by the devout.
Argues Atamjit,
"When we go to see a religious play, it is not always to
analyse but also to pay respect." And it is these kind of
plays, which Atamjit clubs as mandir or gurdwara
theatre that reinforce religious prejudices, and are no more
than propaganda. These try to pit heroes against each other and
establish the superiority of one religion over the other and
this bothers the playwright.
According to Sahib
Singh, "There are two kinds of religious plays, one that
exploit the sentiments of the shradhhalus and the other
which flows against the tide, question blind faith and
superstitions and try to veer people away from superficial
ritualism." Fortunately, in Punjabi theatre, best plays
have been written by non-believers, he claims.
But often it is
hard to distinguish myth from religion, so how can theatre draw
a clear line between blind faith and simple belief. Agrees
Mahendra, "Indeed, the line is blurred. Whether Ravan
actually had 10 heads or possessed the power and wisdom of 10
men, who can say definitely?" But yes, he firmly believes
that religious myths should not be challenged for the heck of
creating controversies and should not be ridiculed at all.
Because these myths were often invented to underline deeper
truths of life and should be taken with a pinch of salt.
Atamjit agrees
that symbolism works at several levels. But he adds, "Since
it allows one to draw many meanings, the writer should have the
liberty to infer the way he feels and not as a propaganda
machine for a particular religion. At the same time, he should
be responsible enough to know where and how to draw a line and
judge to what extent the elasticity of peoples’ tolerance can
be stretched."
Either way, to
challenge blind faith or to draw power from its amazing tales
and incredible heroes, ruse or muse, faith will continue to move
not just people but artistes as well.
Ramleela
and theatre
IS
Ramleela,
theatre or a religious activity? Dr Atamjit calls it a
perfect example of folk theatre. Theatre person and
designer Mahendra Kumar agrees and gives the example of
the one at Ram Nagar, near Varanasi, in UP, which
certainly qualifies as folk theatre.
In its new
avatar being presented in a hi-tech format, recorded
dialogues and songs, it may not seem artistic,
nevertheless, Ramleela, with roots in Parsi theatre
tradition, has been the launching platform for many a
theatre person.
Actor and
make-up artiste Parvesh Sethi recalls how it provided him
with immense opportunities not only to test his histrionic
abilities but also grounded him in makeup skills.
The relation
between Ramleela and theatre persons is a two-way channel.
If artistes have used it as a stepping stone, many, like
Mukesh Sharma, who participates in Ramleela as well runs a
theatre group, are eager to use their background in
theatre to enhance Ramleela.
In Delhi,
many actors from the National School of Drama participate
in Ramleela, while in Chandigarh, Abhishek Sharma, a
student of Department of Indian Theatre, Panjab
University, uses theatre techniques like voice modulation
to train Ramleela actors. |
|