Bumbay, once more!

So this week, I went to see Antigone, a play written by Sophocles originally, adapted by Jean Anouilh, and further adapted by Satyadev Dubey. Nasiruddeen Shah played Creon and Ratna Pathak Shah played Antigone.

Strong cast, good adaptation, well-played characters. I was warned by people that I may either doze off during the play, or if I stay awake, I will notice that Ratna Pathak Shah cannot pull off a 16-year old’s role. But I think, it was because we know for a fact that she is nowhere close to 16. However, the real Antigone at the age of 16 must have been much more mature compared to any other girl of her age back then.

Nasiruddeen Shah was at his best, playing Creon, the frustrated king who was caught unaware and had to wear the crown of thorns only to face rebellion.

The dialogues were all in English, Indian English to be specific. I feel the play would have been better, more intense had it been in Hindi — but that may as well be coming from their Bollywood past that I have seen all their performances in Hindi only, as far as I remember.

Overall, an experience of a kind, to see the stalwarts attempting to shape perfection so closely. Worth a dekko.

And here’s some more of Bumbay, for you before I sign off!

Big balloons, saar, for 5 rupees each…

Elephantitanic!

No chariots allowed. You may get fined 15 naya paisa…

On the edge

And if you’re bored of local trains, you may want to buy a car from Car Point, the showroom is located right next to a scrap metal and paper mart in Mahim.

Car Point offers spot deals!

 

Bringing home the dream!

Fu bai fu, fugadi fu

Dam-laas ka’ay majhya Govinda tu,

Re majhya Govinda tu?

– the character Nick Bottom, from A Midsummer Night’s Dream,

by William Shakespeare.

Unconceivable, but true, I’ve just returned after watching a Shakespearean play being performed not just in English, but also in Bengali, Hindi, Marathi, Malayalam, Sanskrit, Sinhalese and Tamil. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, directed by Tim Supple and performed by a couple of dozen artists from all over India and Sri Lanka. It was a dance-music-martial art do, one heck of a production! The play was divided in two acts, the first act, in which Hermia and Lysander, and Helena and Demetrius go round and round along the lines of the cupid’s goof-ups, and the second act, in which things fall in place and everyone lives happily ever after.

The play was rich with cultural stuffings from across India, with traditional and contemporary dances as well as a bit of a presentation of kallaripayatt, the martial art from Kerala. Dialogues were spoken in a host of languages that I just mentioned, but even though I didn’t literally understand the parts in Sinhalese and Tamil, I never lost the thread because the actors adeptly expressed just about everything. The dance and martial art performances were superb with amazing precision in coordinating every step. The ambience on-stage was quite unusual with ladders and ropes hanging on the stage, with actors going up and down all through. Besides, there were colourful drapes and the actors’ costumes from rich robes to torn rags.

Tim Supple has managed to take a comic pull at the original Shakespearean drama without climbing any rung lower, and brought in passion and rib-tickling fluidity in the sequence of events. The jumble of all the languages worked toward creating a complete dream. The part that I liked the most was the way the play within the play shaped up – the romance of Pyramus and Thisbe, and Nick Bottom’s character played by Joy Fernandes was the most entertaining — not that other actors didn’t entertain me. No matter how much I write, I’m never going to be able to describe the experience, for it was like living through a dream. A never-before experience, I’m going to do an encore, whenever I get to lay my hands on this one again!

Something to check out: a good description of the play is here – the blog of Prof Christopher Conway.

P.S. : Anandham says, there wasn’t much Sinhalese in the play, probably. I believe the troupe must be large, with various actors performing at different events, which leaves the production flexible enough to entertain a wide set of audiences, by simply plugging in or out some bits from the play. I stand corrected there. Thanks Anand!

 

Ranjha!

Life, as unpredictable as it is, doesn’t fail to spring surprises even on a weekend. As fate would have it, I ended up planning to watch a play or two alone, and found myself walking into the Experimental Theatre of the NCPA. I must admit, the venue does live up to its name. So, I saw Navtej Johar and Madan Gopal Singh’s dance-musical drama Fana’a: Ranjha Revisited this evening. The play is a melée of two romantic epics, each one from North and South India. Heer Ranjha is a famous Sufi legend from Punjab, while Kutrala Kuravanji is a genre of dance-drama from Tamil Nadu.

Ranjha was a prince who fell in love with Heer, and became a cowherd in the farms of Heer’s father, just so that they both could be together. When Heer was married off to someone else, Ranjha turned a jogi, a mendicant and follows Heer.

The epic from south, Kutrala Kuravanji is a story of a young girl – Vasantvalli – falling in love with Lord Siva and living in fantasies of her union with the Lord. As the drama unveils, sakhis (friends) of Vasantvalli tease her, support her and enrich her fantasies of her union with Siva by bringing in a fortune-teller who would predict when Vasantvalli would meet Siva.

Johar’s drama presents both these epics in dance form, with songs from Kutrala as well as Sufi songs reciting Heer-Ranjha’s legend interspersed with each other. Both the stories flow simultaneously, with Navtej and his dance partner Anil Panchal playing the roles of Heer, Ranjha, Vasantvalli and Siva. Both the dancers changed roles –- and the transition was smooth — which was indicated through the lyrics. The hour-long play was a mix of Sufi songs in Punjabi and Kutrala recited in Tamil. The seemingly distant fusion of Sufi and carnatic music did not sound odd at all. The dance technique followed was a fusion of Bharat Natyam and contemporary dance, throughout the play.

What appealed was the ‘seamlessness’ as people put it, of Johar’s masterpiece. Kutralas usually have a happy ending with Vasantvalli’s union with Siva, while Heer-Ranjha’s epic ends in despair, in separation. What brings about both the extremes to a common ground is the abstract nature that the stories take because of the male duet dance. Both the dancers interchange roles very frequently, thus keeping the audience glued to each and every movement of theirs.

More, the play brought both the epics woven together with one single thread – desire. Although Johar may have conceptualised the play due to his love for both Sufism and Kutrala as he admits, the thought has evolved into depiction of bare, plain desire in its most innocent form.

Besides the dance, the singers Madan Gopal Singh and Rekha Raj sung amazing Sufi songs like Ranjha jogi banke aaya and Aaj piya mere anganach aaye. Carnatic songs were played using recordings – sung by Govindrajan Elangovan. Without a single prop on the stage, the accompaniment to this one-act play were minimalistic with Preetam Ghoshal’s sarod, Gurmeet Singh’s tabla, Deepak Castelino’s guitar, G Raghuraman’s flute and R Kesavan’s mridangam.

What’s next? – A Midsummer Night’s Dream, by Tim Supple. Now that’s what you call a streak of good luck.