Actors, dancers and directors are breaching the barriers of high and low art, drawing from traditional classical performances to tell their stories
In MÄlavikÄgnimitram, one of the first plays he wrote, Sanskrit poet Kalidasa (4th-5th century AD) evoked the sublime power of drama, describing it as a beautiful visual sacrifice for the gods. He ends a shloka with: “Natyam bhinna rucherjanasya bahuopyekam samaradhanam.” This translates to: “Drama is the single (unique) means of pleasing people of different tastes in many ways.” Did the poet realise that his words would resonate with Indian thespians more than 15 centuries later?
Across the country, actors and directors, poets and playwrights, dancers and musicians are finding new ways to tell their stories on stage. And while they may rely on complex light and sound design, props and extravagant backdrops, the power of their theatre remains as pure as it was during Kalidasa’s time: It is cathartic. It is entertaining. And it shines light on topics like gender, sex and oppression.
But theatre was never egalitarian, at least not in its classical avatar. The Natyashastra—a treatise on the performing arts that dates back to 200 BC—differentiates between ‘Margi’ (high art) and ‘Deshi’ (populist, meant for the layperson). Over generations, the lines demarcating the two have blurred, and this convergence, in a sense, is being played out today.
Sanjukta Wagh from Mumbai and Vivek Vijaykumaran from Bengaluru use Kathak and Kutiyattam (traditional dramatic dance).
Others, like Patna’s Randhir Kumar, direct all-male troupes which fall back on the Bihari folk tradition of ‘Launda Naach’, performed by men dressed as women. In Assam, Pabitra Rabha trains dwarves, and in Bihar, Pravin Kumar Gunjan fights caste politics and oppression on stage. They may speak different languages, but they find common ground by challenging their audience to question the world as it is.
In this mix of high art and low art, there is a strong European influence. The roots of mainstream theatre, with its divisions along the lines of ‘acts’ and ‘scenes’, can be traced to the Raj. The second half of the British rule saw the rise of protest theatre when the fight for Independence spilled onto the stage with the Indian People’s Theatre Association (formed during the Quit India Movement in 1942). Independence gave us new confidence. If the government’s setting up of the Sangeet Natak Akademi in 1952 was the foundation of cultural awareness, then it wouldn’t be wrong to say that institutions like the National School of Drama (1959) provided a platform for modern theatre. The period before and immediately after Independence saw the emergence of dramatists, poets, actors and directors like Ebrahim Alkazi and Urdu dramatist Habib Tanvir, Shambhu Mitra, Chandravadan Mehta and Ranchhodbhai Udayram Dave in Gujarat, Gurajada Apparao and Bellary Raghava Chari in Andhra Pradesh, Laxminath Bezbarua in Assam, Kerala’s CV Raman Pillai and Kalicharan Patnaik from Odisha, all of whom were vital to the revival of Indian theatre.
This tradition was carried forward by a host of artistes and writers, including but not limited to Vijay Tendulkar, Girish Karnad, Kanti Madiya, Pravin Joshi, Mahendra Joshi, Shashi Kapoor, Dr Shriram Lagoo, Zohra Sehgal, Farooq Shaikh, Naseeruddin Shah, Amol Palekar, Usha Ganguly, Alyque Padamsee, Sanjana Kapoor and Chetan Datar among others. They’ve laid the ground for a medium that’s trying to hold its own against the likes of reality TV and Bollywood.
Today, artistes and directors are building on this foundation. Our curation is by no means comprehensive, but we have focussed on new entrants as well as old hands who are working in multiple languages across India.
Here are snapshots of creative forces who have stayed unfettered by convention.
(This story appears in the Sept-Oct 2015 issue of ForbesLife India. To visit our Archives, click here.)