Flirting with the Bard

A number of classics, including plays by Shakespeare, were showcased at the Bharat Rang Mahotsava 2007. Chaman Ahuja reviews the Shakespearean ‘revisits’

Declaring its graduation into ‘a major international happening’, Bharat Rang Mahotsava 2007 at Delhi laid claim to ‘special emphasis on the classics, both Asian and European, in new manifestations’. No wonder, a number of directors from various cultures were seen approaching great masters — Kalidasa, Bhasa, Bhavabhuti, Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Ibsen, Strindberg, Chekhov, Kafka, Ionesco, Rumi, Tagore, Satyajit Ray, Manto, et al. Understandably, the greatest favourite was Shakespeare, five of whose tragedies became available during the festival in divers languages.

On the first day, Macbeth was presented in English by Ace Productions, Bombay, under the direction of Alyque Padamsee, the ‘Bhgawan of Indian English theatre’. Frankly, Alyque himself didn’t impress much in the role of Duncan; even as a director, he appeared rather conservative — opting for a realistic mode in respect of sets, costumes, acting, dialogue, etc. Of course, in these realms, he afforded the best: he engaged not only Tarun Tahiliani for costumes but also specialists in choreography, tantrik sciences and fencing.

As for interpretation, here was Lady Macbeth as a tantrik conjuring up witches to make Macbeth a king. The way the witches appeared and disappeared into nothingness, one felt the thrilling magic of the stage. Even otherwise, while the production might not claim to have Thiyam-like show-stealers, the lighting and sound effects were sound enough. Needless to add, the cast was studded with some of the top names in acting — Vijay Crishna as Macbeth, Lushin Dubey as Lady Macbeth, Sabira Merchant as Lady Macduff, Vikranth Chatturvedi as Macduff. All told, quite a respectable production but nothing really outstanding or new.

The next day, in Rajkumar Hemendrajit, we had an Assamese version of Hamlet — a production resulting from an NSD workshop in Guwahati. The presenting company is called Baa, which literally means ‘a creative breeze’. Indeed, one did experience a whiff of fresh creativity in the way Denmark stood transmuted into Assam in respect of the language, names, costumes, mannerism, rituals, and culture in general.

Nevertheless, understandably, this workshop production was rather simplistic: gone was the much-debated density of the play — Hamlet’s psychological complexes, his spiritual crisis, his philosophical stances, his procrastination, his soliloquies, and so on. No wonder, the temper of the play was rather primitive even as the tempo was too fast. That made one wonder what the typical rendition of Hamlet will be like in Bengali, Manipuri, Marathi, Gujarati, Punjabi, Kashmiri, Kannada, Malayalam, etc.

How one wishes there was a festival of a Shakespeare’s play in all the Indian languages: that will not only highlight our multiculturism but also underscore how the search for a specific identity of Indian theatre might spell the impoverishment of its spectrum.

Of course, a regional flavour can be always swept away by the genius of a director—as was evident in O Lear, directed by C R Jambe for Rangayana, Mysore. H S Shiva Prakash, who translated the play into Kannada, was not very happy with the adaptation because he felt that the overall sprit of the original had been tampered with: the dramatic power had gone down, there was too much of horse play, and the happy ending with Lear-Cordelia reconciliation made a travesty of the classic. Be that what it may, it was a very fresh interpretation in respect of the form: an ensemble musical hinged round Lear surrounded by a rowdy retinue, the play recalled to mind The Beggars’ Opera. Anyway, while the experimental changes looked so welcome in the first half, the thrill was gone later when the novelty wore off and the scenes were clubbed for a quick and abrupt close.

The fourth ‘Shakespearean’ play, The Magic Hour, created and designed by Arjun Raina, disappointed all along as it simply refused to take off. In fact, this wasn’t a play at all: a mix of Hindi, English, Russian, Sanskrit, Malayalam, it was also a mix of Othello, Kathakali and Odissi. Often remembered for his experimental zeal, in the 1990s, Raina had helped his guru Sadanam Balakrishnan in transmuting Othello into a Kathakali performance; later, he fused Shakespeare and Kathakali into Khelkali. In this production, however, that magical compounding was not even attempted: made up as a Kathakali performer, he addressed the audience in a humorous vein, a la Sutradhar, to expatiate on his interpretation of Othello — the psychological effect of the whites colonising the blacks. The rigmarole was interspersed now and then with his own Kathakali capering as also with Odissi dances by Monica Singh. Of course, her virtuosity was impressive, but could that alone be sufficient justification for the title? All told, here was a sort of lecture-cum-demonstration.

Julius Caesar by Nightmare (sic) from Iran was, again, Shakespeare hijacked by Tajrobeh Theatre Group: the Bard was only a starting point; the rest was Naghme Samini — the Persian playwright who has been a frequent presence at Bharangam, along with Kiomars Moradi as a director. Here is Cassius pushing Brutus towards assassinating Julius Caesar, who surprises every one by poisoning himself. That, however, turns out to be the first case of poisoning because Brutus, Cassius and Anthony also end up drinking poison. The goading force behind these suicides is a soothsayer with whom the play starts and ends: she is a narrator, a prophet as well as an agent of retribution. In fact, the action comprises her ‘visions’: hence ‘nightmare’ in the title. Presumably, the play is an allegorical presentation of the bloody goings-on in Iran today.

Taking a glance at the outcome of these "revisits", one cannot help but wonder what Shakespeare’s own reactions could have been if he was there to watch these pieces. Would he be flattered by the universality of his appeal — and overawed by the ingenuity of the directors? More likely, he would be amused rather than amazed. One might as well ask why ‘revisit’ a classic: if you cannot create a comparable masterpiece in theatre arts, the people may go back to the printed word. A classic should be treated with reverence, with earnestness, because fondness without faithfulness amounts to flirtation.

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