EKTA ISHKOOL (trans. A School) of Chakdaha Natyajon: an experimentation in form & content that reminds one of Lehmann’s Post-dramatic theatre

EKTA ISHKOOL (trans. A School) of Chakdaha Natyajon: an experimentation in form & content that reminds one of Lehmann’s Post-dramatic theatre (staged on 18 March 2026)

 

[Before going into the discussion on the aforesaid play I would like to give a rejoinder to my last Blog. Mainak Sengupta, one of the most important dramatists of the present generation, has informed me the following in WhatsApp. I express my deep gratitude to Mainak for this important piece of information on the dramatization of Samaresh Basu’s short stories. This is what he informed me: ‘I adopted a play ' সুপ্রভাত ' based on Samaresh Basu's short story ' প্রাণ পিপাসা ‘. Some lesser-known groups like বেলঘরিয়া উজান and বজবজ ঋক had staged the play; the second group more than ten times. And Last year ' গ্রুপ থিয়েটার পত্রিকা শারদ সংখ্যা ' had published a ' ক্রোড়পত্র ' on Samaresh Basu, more or less seven plays were published in that magazine based on Basu's creations.]

 

Of the few young play-makers who have strived to bring in a fresh new concept in designing of a play Debashis (Roy – the surname he does not use) is the foremost of them all. In his stage-schemes he had discarded the classical realistic stage and took to a modernist, expressionistic approach in his designing. He has been such an influencer that a host of directors have been blindly imitating him without any reference to the contents of their individual productions. and the result in most of the cases is a big flop.   

Watching Chakdaha Natyajon’s production of Ekta Ishkool at Academy of Fine Arts the viewers find that he has deviated from his signature stage-designing. The very sight of the stage even before the play begins makes the viewers to sit up and eagerly wait for the third bell to ring. As the play proceeds one come across a storyline that talks of unconventional education. The acting design, too, is different from the predictable style. This production gave the viewers a very fresh and of course a rare experience of viewing theatre.

The story tells us of a journey seeking an untainted, bright future with the lessons that are abundant in the life and the Nature around us. A school student Mahendra who is not that intelligent, and rather somewhat obtuse is a habitual failure. He meets Gada who has never been to a regular school, but has excelled in his performance in the school of Life. He takes Gada as his real tutor. Mahendra learns that Gada takes his lessons of life from Nature under the tutelage of his grandmother. Mahendra decides to join Gada’s granny’s ‘school’. But his father Manishankar who is like the authoritative master of the village, acts the spoil-sport. He plans to evict Gada’s grandmother from her ancestral homestead. Gada learns that his father had to commit suicide because of this man. A number of things happen in Gada’s life, and that affect Mahendra, too. And this results in Mahendra maturing into a responsible man.  

It may seem that there is a shadow of Rabindranath Tagore’s education system in the theme. Debashis has placed the story in Jalbasi, a remote village surrounded by mountains and rivers in north Tripura. In elaboration of his plot the playwright has emphasized on expressionism rather than keeping to naturalism. Mahendra like Gada has been inwardly enlightened, so as to say he has been spiritually uplifted rather than materialistically gaining from attending the ‘school’. In constructing the character of the grandmother, Debashis has touched on to the postmodern concept which rejects the concept of truth being absolute and universal. Then the sudden turn in the storyline gives the viewers a jolt. But at the end the play gives the spectators an experience of Lehmann’s Post-dramatic theatre.

The manifestation of the script on to the stage is intimately woven around the specific acting style that the director had planned. The play with its total happening on the stage, like in post-dramatic theatre, extends beyond the script and the dialogues, and the viewers leave the auditorium with the play deeply embedded in their conscience.  

As mentioned in the beginning the stage designing is completely different from what the viewers expect from a Debashis presentation. Here, it has a canopy of blue sky with ginned cotton like white clouds covering the whole acting zone. This has certainly given the viewers ample scope in interpreting the text in their own ways. This is, so to say is one of the vital elements of post-dramatic theatre, too. Just with the help of the dialogues the spectators construct the locale where the things are happening.  Together with this the acting style he has applied is quite different from what we are used to see. And each and every actor has contributed their might and emotion in full-filling the director’s idea. Performance in this Chakdaha Natyajon’s production has reached a zenith, so to say. But that does not mean no more improvisation is possible, because in theatre each and every performance leads to a new horizon of creativity.     

The young Abhik De who has proved his mettle in the previous Chakdaha Natyajon’s productions has raised his benchmark. It was a difficult job in the first half to represent a dumb, stupid Mahendra. He has done this in a different approach where physical expressions are supplemented by the variations in vocal acting. In the second part he was remarkably restrained in the part where the character has an emotional outburst. This work of Abhik will be remembered for a long time to come. Equally outstanding was Akshaynarayan Jhan as the mentally deranged Bhala. Acting in such characters has a very cliched pattern, but Akshaynarayan has come out of it and presented a different hue in realistic acting. The viewers would keep in memory his delivering of his dialogues while weeping uncontrollably. Another memorable performance was by Amit Saha as Gada. He has depicted the simplicity of the character in an almost naturalistic representation. One more seasoned actor of the group Aditi Lahiri in the role of the grandmother has portrayed the tender softness of the elderly lady with a marvellous suavity. In contrast she gives a superb violent expression during the killing of Manishankar.

The others like Adrita Pal and Poulomi Ghosh as Charai and Billi, respectively, Debashis De as Manishankar, Subhadip Mandal as Columbus, Abhishek De as a policeman, Soumen Bhattacharya’s Kader with a rooster appearing perhaps for the first time on the Bengali stage, or Ujan Ganguly as Baga, and Sandipa Chatterjee as Mahendra’s mother did their roles in their perfect disposition so to say. What was most notable was that these actors in their non-performing moments on the stage were so involved in the happenings in the acting zone, that one could see during an emotional sequence being enacted tears rolling down the cheeks of the teenager Adrita standing behind in the non-performing area of the stage. And here lies the success of the playmaker who has apart from designing the stage has also schemed the lights and the background music of the production. Kudos to Debashis.

Before ending mention should be made of the names of Suman Pal, the coxswain of the group who handled the lights, and that of Dana Roy who designed the choreography and of Souvik Biswas who was the music hand. Dress designing also should get the due clap.   

 

My next Blog will be on STREER PATRA of Nirbak Abhinay Akademi staged on 22 March 2026. 

 

MARSHUMER EKDIN (trans. A Day in the Season) of Newtown Bratyajan: a tribute to Samaresh Basu

 

MARSHUMER EKDIN (trans. A Day in the Season) of Newtown Bratyajan: a tribute to Samaresh Basu

 

The centenary of Samaresh Basu passed off not with much fanfare but for a few literary programmes. The theatre world was not active either. I find two groups, both of the lesser type, have staged two plays based on his stories, on this occasion. They are Newtown Bratyajon with their MARSHUMER EKDIN, and Naihati’s Rangasena with their SHESH BASANTA. Credit should be given to them for having treaded a not too familiar path.

Newtown Bratyajon presented Sumitro Bandopadhyay’s adaptation of a short story by Samaresh Basu, MARSHUMER EKDIN under the direction of Debashis Roy at Madhusudan Mancha. I have seen their previous work and have an impression that with many a shortcoming this group strives to present their fare with sincerity.

Samaresh wrote this short story in 1951. Like his other works this story, too, is a portrayal of that section of the society who live their struggling life day-in and day-out. It is of course needless to say that this work too reflects his own experiences in his living-out his own life. after all these seventy-five years it is also futile to say that the picture he drew still remains true. Perhaps the backdrop has changed, the contexts have changed but the content and theme remain the same. The Bengali society, its culture, its intellectual horizon like the corner stone of his other writings, are present here too, with their glories.

A quite handsome young Nabin works in a theatre-jatra dress and requisition supplier’s shop. During the jatra season he stays back in the store-room of the shop with his other co-workers. As the income from his job in the shop is not much to maintain his family of three kids and his wife, he takes up a part-time job as a tabla-player, and also does a few stints as an actor for parties who come looking for a performer. He fails to provide his family with quality time as well as with sufficient cash, despite his utmost endeavours.  

The third wedded wife of the owner Bhanumoti, has a soft corner for Nabin, and is always concerned about the kids of Nabin, as she herself is childless. She buys new dresses for the kids and gives them to Nabin on the night of shasti of Duga puja. In the early morning the next day he returns to the shop to find everyone including the owner and his wife waiting for the police to come. One of his co-workers has hung himself in the store-room after being rejected by his lover.  

Sumitro has done a commendable job in adapting Samaresh keeping true to the unique flavour of the story-teller, though he had to edit, add and modify a few areas to bring the story with its nuances on to the stage. But this has not overshadowed the magical play of words of the litterateur. In presenting the characters in the mould of the story-teller he has kept the texture of the original in writing the dialogues, too. His addition of parts of old classical plays was a pleasant experience for the viewers. So was the short tabla piece by Nabin.    

Debashis has used a few of the recent practices in play-making, like the use of the LED lights, the use of smoke, or some choreographic representations in the soliloquy of Aurangzeb where the later talks of the ghosts of his brothers Dara and Suja. But unlike the recent trends he has not taken refuge to gimmicks in constructing his scenes. The play gets a smooth progression, thus. In the first scene the store with the adjacent shop is shown, but from the next scene onwards the perspective is changed. The suicide is shown in a suggestive way though a little more imagination was wanting. But the scene that had damaged the total production was that of the prostitute quarter mainly due to very poor performance. On the other hand, the short scene of the conjugal relation of Nabin and his wife was a treat for the viewers.       

Subhankar De’s lights and Swapan Bandopadhyay’s background score were laudable. Surajit Pal’s make-up job was equally creditable. Dress designing also needs to be appreciated.

Sunny Chattopadyay’s Nabin is the main-stay of the production. I have not seen any earlier work of this young actor, and for me his Nabin is a revelation. He is such an accomplished performer that one is marvelled at his range of performance. His easy movements, unhesitating dialogue deliveries with accurate intonations need to be applauded. When he is performing in the classic plays, he is more dramatic yet not crossing over to over doing the parts. His tabla playing certainly adds a creditable point for the production. The description of the appearance of the character Nabin as described by the author is so very similar to that of Sunny, that one may tend to think that Samaresh had built Nabin in the image of Sunny perhaps!  Chanchal Bhattacharya as Guinram, or Subir Ghosh as the shop owner, or Bijoya Karmakar as Nabin’s wife did their jobs well. Others were Susmita Bhattacharya, Malay Pal, Sourabh De, Riju Basu and Sahana Chattopadhyay.

 

The next play for our discussion will be EKTA ISHKOOL (trans. A School) of Chakdaha Natyajan.

SAANKO (trans: Footbridge) of Belgharia Rooptapas: A tribute to Ritwik Kumar Ghatak

 

SAANKO (trans: Footbridge) of Belgharia Rooptapas: A tribute to Ritwik Kumar Ghatak

 

While Ritwik Kumar Ghatak’s centenary year that had begun in November 2025 is passing by, the Bengali stage has but contributed very little in this celebration of the only member of the Trinity of Indian cinema who have had a deep-rooted connection with the theatre world, a reflection of which we find in his films – may it be in the elements that make up a scene like the framing, the lighting, the movements of the shots, or in the storyline itself. Like for instance in the 1961 masterpiece Komal Gandhar, my most favourite of the Ghatak films, one finds the crumbling world of the group theatre movement, as well as the human component of a struggling group. There are stagings of three plays in the film and the pieces of the stagings that the viewers get to see show signs of a very futuristic modern play-making. The film also has frames that gives the viewer an impression of a stage composition. The film ends, most unlike Ghatak films, on a promising note! Maybe because this playwright-playmaker did have faith in the struggle that has kept the Bengali stage kicking despite many a hindrance since perhaps the 1876 Control of the Dramatic Performance Act. He believed in the immortality of the Bengali stage in the backdrop of the rich cultural heritage of Bengal. Only a person initially baptised in theatre could have possibly create such moments on the screen.   

Doesn’t one find a sub-surface similarity of Ghatak films with those of Ingmar Bergman who also had had deep-rooted relations with the stage.

More on this perhaps some other time.  

A couple of groups have staged plays on the person himself, one (Chetana’s Meghe Dhaka Ritwik) very laudably excavate the artistic entity of Ritwik Kumar, while the other (Spandan Peoples Theatre’s Ritwik Ekti Nakshetrar Naam) goofed up the filmmaker’s very purpose of creating his genre of cinema! 

A lesser-known group, Belgharia Rooptapas on the other hand has done a very commendable job in staging Ritwik Kumar’s play Saanko, one of the plays that he had written during his days with the IPTA. The recent partition of the country had just doled out its miseries and the ‘50s saw a group of religious fanatics bathing the city of Calcutta in blood of fellow men. His plays were like heart wrenching catharsis of the unsurmountable agony he had to bear because of the partition that had made his homeland a distant foreign country.    

The play begins in Calcutta with a fratricide based on hatred of a different religion, and ends in a remote village in East Pakistan where a Hindu youth had come to visit the family of the Muslim youth killed in Calcutta. This educated, gentle youth in a very impulsive unguarded moment had become a consort in the killing of the Muslim youth. Since then, he had been suffering from repentance and has come to the parents of the Muslim youth to ask for forgiveness. The sister of the deceased who is a political activist and a United Front worker fighting against the Muslim League, imbibe in him a dream to build a secular world.

The dramatist Ritwik Kumar brings about in his way, as would be seen later in his films, a mellifluous melodrama in each of his characters. The character of the mother is typically built as the iconic mother image that is a recurring dramatic element in his later films. The killer who is impetuous, questions in repentance who is to be held responsible for this fate of his. The playwright having faith in Man and his virtues tries to build up a utopian world of camaraderie standing firm against the ruthless backdrop of strife and bloodshed.   

The playmaker Kaushik Ghosh had a tough challenge to translate the script on to the stage. A slight unguarded moment would have made the staging an ordinary melodramatic TV serial. The test was to portray the soul of the drama rather than telling the story. And if it is missed at any point of time, may be unwittingly, would have betrayed the sole purpose of the playwright in penning the play. Kaushik has been more than successful in doing his job. His mounting of each scene smacked of professional smartness. Ritwik Kumar had tuned every character to a high pitch, and so, Kaushik in his attempt to balance out, had to present them in exaggeration but in a very subdued way. And that is a tough job, indeed. The contradiction in the character of the Hindu youth, or the belief and faith in human beings of the bereaved mother, or for that matter, the unwavering political belief of the sister, or the mental conflict of the killer are portrayed firmly yet subtly. On the other hand, the blatancy of the instigator of the murderous act, a distinguished person of the neighbourhood, is presented in stark contrast.                

Each of the actors has ably done their job in the right earnest, so as to interpret the playmaker’s design. Each of them was careful not to overdo their parts so as to keep the melodramatic texture of the play. The veteran thespian Sumita Basu in the role of the mother once again proved her worth. The delivery of her lines with the perfect play of the tone depicted the firmness of the mother to tackle the unfortunate situation as well as keeping alive her natural maternal caring self. It is sad that not often do we come across her work these days, but it is absolutely certain that this particular work would be discussed for long. Another of the actors is not much seen, too, though this extremely powerful actor is a prized possession of the Bengali stage. He is Kajal Sambhu. His portrayal of the killer had the undertone of the tediousness of an impulsive criminal. Sumit Kumar Roy as the Hindu youth had to bear a heavy workload and he successfully executed the role. The sense of guilt in the character was well conveyed by his delivery of lines as well as his use of the stage. Ayan Mondal as the brother was good. Abhi Sengupta as the local bigshot was particularly cautious to avoid overdoing his role. Tanushree Saha as the sister was a bit stiff but did her part as directed by the maker. Sunny Barik was good as the Muslim youth. His rendering of a bhatiyali was commendable, so was Sumit Kumar’s song. In other sundry roles were Tarun Chakravarty, Anjan Roychoudhury and Gautam Chakravarty.                   

Bilu Dutt’s excellent stage gave the production its visual richness. His creation of the courtyard along the riverside had literally brought the house in a village in East Bengal on to the stage of Academy of Fine Arts. It was a gem of a work that would be mentioned for a long time to come. The unpronounced poetry that Ritwik Kumar had penned in his script took shape in Bilu’s job. Soumen Chakravarty’s lights was a perfect consort to Bilu’s stage, and together they became a character of the play. And last but not the least it was Abhijit Acharya’s background score that had wrapped the production in an unimpeachable Ritwik-ambience even before curtains rose. The use of Indian classical mixed with bhatiyali, and the tunes of Tagore’s Keno cheye achho go Maa and Tora je ja bolis bhai was simply mesmerizingly haunting for the viewers. Dress designs were done by Triparna Das and Aparna Das, while Bappaditya Pramanik did the make-over.

In the present times when radical Hindutva is baring its teeth and raising its fangs, this production of Rooptapas is very much desirable.

 

The next Blog would be MARSHUMER EKDIN (trans. A Day in the Season) of Newtown Bratyajan staged on 6 March 2026.        

A FRESH NEW START

 

A FRESH NEW START

After a very long long time I have once again come back to my blog. The last blog that I wrote was in November 2024.

Before going any further I would like to apologise to my readers for being so unfaithful. Along with this I should also tell my readers the reason for my being absent for so long and also why I have decided to come back to my blog-writing. Along with this I would also like to state that I have also decided to write my blogs regularly this time, without any discontinuity or long absence, as I have been doing since I started this website in 2011. In other words, this is an explanation for being absent and also for my returning back with a fresh new start.

As most of my readers know that I have been regularly writing out review articles in Bengali for the fortnightly Desh magazine for the last twenty-one odd years. And this engagement together with other writings as well as some very personal preoccupations that had kept me pretty much on my heels so as to get very little time for concentrating on blog-writing. Lately things have changed both in my personal life as well as in my related world outside. And with the changed bearings my daily world has also altered. So, I thought it prudent to give my blog a fresh start.   

I have been associated with Desh since 1984 – since the legendary editor Sagarmoy Ghosh asked me to do film-review articles for his magazine. After a stint I stopped writing as I had some differences of opinion with Sagarda regarding an article. In the mean time I was doing theatre reviews for The Telegraph, The Metropolitan newspapers. Then in 2006 Harsha Dutta the then editor of Desh asked me to do theatre reviews for his magazine. And so, I have been doing this work uninterrupted for the last twenty-one years. And I fear I am the seniormost theatre reviewer around.

Lately I find that things have changed in the running of the magazine. Once Desh had a tradition of regular cinema reviews together with theatre and music, apart from art. But then the organisation, planning and management of the magazine was different. And Desh was then more of a weekly literary and cultural journal. However, with the changing times the character of the readership has also changed. So, Desh, too, is different from what it was. Theatre had a place of pride in the ‘Shilpa-Sangskriti’ section of the magazine. In the recent past because of space crunch the reviews used to take time to be published – a couple of months at the most. And I was told to restrict my articles to 400-450 words. But this restriction of number of words could not do justice to a performance. I tried to keep my reviews within 700 words. In the very recent times, the scenario has taken a drastic change, sort of. Selected films are reviewed in every issue even of Hindi and English language ones. Of course, these are all policy matters of the house to which Desh belongs, and no one should have any grievances.

However, my point is that the theatre groups that strive hard to put up a show with all their energy and resources, are denied of their legitimate demand of their works being reviewed, as the magazine had accepted their prayers for a review. And naturally they eagerly wait to see their works being discussed in print. And this is truer for the off-Kolkata or off-off-Kolkata groups, who are struggling to get a foothold in this competing world, and equally for the not-so-known or established groups, These groups do not get frequent opportunities to stage in Kolkata. And moreover, majority of the shows have almost no box-office returns, and so have no financial gains. They still do theatre for the sheer love of it. So, for them the only return is a few words about them in the printed media, which might get them some sponsorships or other assistance for the future productions. At the same time, it is also true that apart from Desh there are no other periodicals or newspapers where drama reviews are published on a regular basis.

But the situation at present is not very enterprising. In the recent issues I find the reviews of the plays that were staged in February last are yet to see the light of the day. Since February till July, I have reviewed fourteen productions. It is my practice to jot down the articles and mail them to Desh within a couple of days of my seeing the productions. The fourteen pieces seem to be gathering dust on the editor’s desk. I have also figured out that the groups who had prayed to Desh for a review of their works also seem to be reluctant to enquire with Desh why has there been so long a delay for the reviews to be published.

Till date 632 review articles written by me have been published in the magazine in this stint of twenty-one years. But under the prevailing circumstances I doubt how long will my reviews would be published in Desh. To be frank, a sense of remorse has taken over me, and I personally feel obligated to the groups for this inordinate delay. I have decided instead to write in my blog the reviews of the plays. At the beginning I would devote on the fourteen productions the reviews of which are yet to be published in Desh.

The fourteen productions are listed below:

SANKO of Belgharia Rooptapas staged on 27 February

MARSUMER EKDIN of Newtown Bratyajon staged on 6 March

EKTA ISKOOL of Chakdaha Natyajon staged on 18 March

STREER PATRA of Nirbak Abhinay Akademi staged on 22 March 

KUNDUBABU of Sayak staged on 3 May

PRATHAM PARTHA of Sansriti staged on 13 May

SESH BASANTA of Naihati Rangasena staged on 27 May

JATRA GOPAL of Chadaha Natyajon staged on 28 May

RUPANTAR of Paramik staged on 1 June

ABU HOSAIN of Nandiranga staged on 10 June

SESH MATHATA KATA PARAR AAGE of Chaturtha Matra staged on 14 June

LAGAN CHAND of Thealight staged on 20 June

CORNER PLOT of Rangalok staged on 5 July

I should mention here that on 7 March I went to see GADAIBABU of Theatre Workshop, and the discussion of which was in the above list. But Desh had published it out of turn in its 17 August issue. So, I am not including it as my blog material.

Apart from these I have seen a few more plays – six I suppose – this year not for review purpose for on behalf of Desh. But unfortunately, I will not do justice to them if I rummage through my very fragile memory and try to discuss them now. These are PUNARJANMA of Anya Theatre, HEMLAT THE PRINCE of GARANHATA of Gayashpur Sanglap, ANTIGONE of Sansriti, RAMANUJ of Jadavpur Manthan, BAAKI ITIHAS of Nirbak Abhinoy Akademi, MORCHE PARA AALO of Shudrak, and TUMI THIK JODI BHABO TUMI THIK of Ancham Baidik.    

The first of the reviews that I would be posting in my next Blog will be SANKO (trans. Footbridge) staged by Rooptapas of Belgharia.

 

 

SAS Theatre Journal (37th issue) and a Few Untoward Observations

 

SAS Theatre Journal (37^th issue) and a Few Untoward Observations

SAS in its just published 37^th annual number is yet another important addition to the list of Bengali theatre journals as well as is a feather in its own cap for keeping up to its character of contributing to the repertoire of Bengali plays that SAS has a tradition of publishing. This voluminous issue has eight plays of which four are original works, two are adaptations, and two are translated. Apart from the plays the issue has as usual a number of significant articles. Presently I would be discussing about the articles only.

Amongst the essays, the first one is a bicentennial tribute to Michael Madhusudan by the academician and writer Tapodhir Bhattachraya. A very scholarly treatise that would surely help those working on Dutta and his work as well as readers like me who have scanty knowledge about the great poet and his times. But the accompanying picture of a poster of a performance of Meghnadbadh Kabya by a group is a bit misleading as the piece has, naturally no reference of the production.

The next article is yet another tribute item on the centenary of one of the architects of modern Indian theater, Habib Tanvir. Kaberi Basu’s treatment of the subject is interestingly a bit off the usual mode of eulogy. She has tried to dissect out the master’s theatrical being from his own writings and words, and thus has shown him from a perspective which is purely her own. This gives the readers some food for thought.

Just to add a personal note I would love to mention that in the 70’s on an invitation from the then Vice-Chancellor of Visva-Bharati, the eminent anthropologist, Prof. Surajit Sinha, Tanvir had come down to Shantiniketan with a few of his Chhattisgarhi actor of Naya Theatre and had staged Charandas Chor, with Govind Ram Nirmalkar playing the lead role. He needed a whole lot of actors to participate in the play which he built in the Nach idiom. I, doing my final year PG, was fortunate enough to be included in the batch of students that he picked to be part of the presentation. He showed us a few simple steps and gestures for us to perform. It was simply an exhilarating experience, that I would treasure all along.

Getting back to the discussion, it is interesting to note that the third piece of this volume is the first instalment of a supposedly serial entitled Bharat Rahasya Sandhane, which loosely translates into In Search of the Mistry of Bharata is a dissertation into the enigmatic personality (or personalities), and the time(s) of Bharata Muni and his Natya Shastra. The author’s conjectures are no doubt thought provoking especially for readers like me, who have very sparse and shallow idea about the subject. His speculations, like many other authorities, on the historicity of Bharata, is indeed an intriguing point. In this regard, I remember Kapila Vatsyayan’s comments that I came across in an article on a different context. She argued that there are strong indications in the text that perhaps it was a work of a single person. It has also been suggested that Bharata may be a generic name. Whatever, the readers certainly and eagerly await, (knowing well that it would be a long wait – yet another year!) the next instalment of this article by Siddartha Chakraborty, but with a request of a meticulous proof-reading.    

Nirmal Bandopadhyay has written a very important article dealing with the problems of penning the history of the modern Indian theatre and of building an archive in his article. The writer has discussed the problems in reference to the political and cultural perspective that makes it a very noteworthy piece.

Another very significant article is the one by Rahaman Choudhury on the state of theatre practice in Bangladesh. This article has obviously been written before the recent upheaval in that country. It traces the journey of Bangladesh theatre post the ’72 liberation. The author has been very candid in his observations. He has traced out the theatre atmosphere during Mujib’s time and also during Jia’s rule and has pointed out the dependence of the groups on the government, in recent time.

Five different genres of theatre in the recent Calcutta stage have been discussed by me in my article and on which I can make no comments, except that it has been printed with no printing mistakes. Apart from these, this volume has a drama review by Anirban Manna and a short note on a national festival of intimate plays held last year by Bibhaban.

Before ending I would like to comment on the Editorial piece which surprisingly has nothing regarding the issue or for that matter theatre, but is a very candid piece on the R.G. Kar issue that has recently tormented the State. I certainly appreciate the honest approach that the Editor has taken in calling the spade a ‘spade’, though I personally may not believe it to be a ‘spade’. This frankness of the Editor regarding the state of affairs in our state is laudable and he has not been elusive to speak out what he feels. But his drawing of an allegory with Arturo Ui is very far-fetched. Quoting someone’s WhatsApp entry he tells the story of the Brecht’s play in such a way, that one who is unaware of the play may think the Brechtian plot did have an episode of a young doctor being raped and killed, and the place being ransacked by hooligans. However, this bold approach of the Editor as a critique of the State government, is what is most striking in these times of duplicity where people hide what they believe in.

But this blatancy is diametrically opposite to the so-called ‘protests’ that were staged in the city and some urban places of the state where it was like coquetry in the guise of modesty, because it was not the R.G. Kar episode that took the centre stage ultimately, but a blatant negation of what the state government had been patiently offering repeatedly. One found a naked show of defiance and insolence, and a direct affront to the basic health care system that affects the common man. And this ‘protibad-utsab’ or ‘protest-festival’ of the Alimuddin-Lenin Sarani-patronized so-called ‘non-political’ front was particularly a mouth-watering recipe for the leading partner of the Godi Media here in Bengal, to devour upon.

This last part of my blog piece may seem out of place in my blog. But I believe I had to bring in political comments as many people from the theatre world had made it their vocation, it seemed, to indulge in anti-government sledging through out the period. As a fall-out some theatre personalities even felt it proper to return the honours that the state government had bestowed upon them as a token of protest. Though I do not believe in this mode of protest, but I do respect their individual decisions. But it was equally surprising to see one amongst them who also happens to be a very senior Left-oriented playwright, enjoying the kudos that were ushered on him by the BJP leadership just after in renouncing of his award!

But the most depressing fact about the whole episode has been the way a section of senior doctors who have their careers well established and members of the so-called ‘civil society’ together with a number of political parties instigated the juniors to go on for a head-on clash with the state government, risking their budding careers.   

That is THEATRE in real life, where the playwright, the director and the actors could be identified easily.

Before signing off I would once again get back to SAS and would like to say that eagerly I wait for the next issue with all its treasures.

THEATRE BULLETIN – a journal of Chaturtha Matra

 

THEATRE BULLETIN – a journal of Chaturtha Matra

My first encounter with Santanu Bandopadhyay’s work, as far as I remember, was way back in 2006, perhaps, when I had the experience of viewing a non-proscenium form of theatre at Sarala Memorial Hall of his group Total Theatre performing Shahzad Firdaus’s Byas (Vyasa). Then many a year rolled by and after a number of theatre activities of his group, I rediscovered him a few years back ‘doing’ theatre under the banner of Chaturtha Matra, a group he had formed together with the veteran thespian Kaberi Basu at the latter’s Achira in Phuldanga, near Shantiniketan. One may find it a bit awkward to see the phrase “doing’ theatre’. He certainly does theatre, for he has been, incessantly active, notwithstanding the Covid months, in presenting a performance every first and third Saturday of every month for the last eight years. The mainstay of the presentations, of course, is Basu’s performance, which in every instance defies her age. Their form of theatre which does not care for any commercial or rather financial gains is a unique instance of presenting theatre for the sake of the great art itself. The number of viewers for their performances has never been their concern, as they diligently do their theatre nevertheless the poorest of poor attendance. I certainly regret in not being able to include their form of theatre in my book on theatre and the audience, Theatrer Darshak Darshaker Theatre.   

The present blog is not about their theatre. I would make a try, I suppose, in my future blog to deal with the type of theatre Chaturtha Matra is engaged in, in the precincts of Achira. Today I would like to discuss about their journal, THEATRE BULLETIN, that they have started publishing lately. It is edited jointly by Kaberi Basu and Ashim Chattaraj, and is planned, I suppose, to be published quarterly. The present issue is the third one in line and was published in September.

The present issue has substantial reading material for those who look for serious stuff in these times of fluffy insignificant entertaining foolery packed in-between slick covers. Those who love to indulge in cheap slanders doing the rounds of the theatre world should avoid turning the pages of this 30-odd-page journal. 

The first article [or is it an ‘editorial’ sort of?] is a very important piece about the second production in their repertoire of 15 productions till now, CENSOR Kara Sharir, which translates into The Censored Body. This production, which unfortunately I did not have had the opportunity to see, is, from what I gather from seeing their other works is the signature play of this group. This has to be explained, and I propose to do it in my discussion on their type of theatre. For the present it will be suffice to know for the readers that they do not usually go in for a well-written drama, but they love to thrive on materials that are subjects of different essays, articles, of for that matter poetries, which they transform, usually done by Kaberi Basu, to give them a performative form which may not strictly adhere to the literal definition of Theatre. CENSOR Kara Sharir is a play that Kaberi Basu had written from an article named Censored Body by Iranian theatre activist Hamid Taheri. One gets to know about this person from this introductory article of THEATRE BULLETIN, and why was it selected to be performed by Chaturtha Matra.

The next article is by Kaberi Basu which is an essay on Artaud. The next two pieces are by Santanu Bandopadhyay. The first one is about the philosophy that has compelled him and Basu to do their kind of theatre since 2018 at Achira. This is a very important piece for those uninitiated in the language and idiom of the alternate theatre. His second piece is on the 77-year-old Serbian performance artiste Marina Abromovic and her Art of Endurance. This is also a very important and informative article that tells the reader about a performing art form that involves some kind of hardship or challenge for the artiste that tests the physical as well as the emotional resilience of the artiste and also of the viewers. I personally have been enriched from this article by Bandopadhyay. Another very significant piece is an interview by Abhimanyu Bandopadhyay of Nahid Hassanzadeh, a film-maker from Iran, who was in Kolkata for the screening of her film, Silent Glory at the 28^th KIFF. The conversation gives the reader a peep inside her own world as well as that of Iran with all the trappings. This issue kicks off a regular column by Jayati Basu about her journey across the theatre world. The readers would certainly look forward to an engrossing travelogue of a thespian with a load of varied experience. Three more articles have found their place in this issue. Bhumisuta Das, a budding talent and Kallol Bhattacharya, a theatre practitioner of yet another theatre form, have shared their ideas and thoughts with the readers. Sujit Rej pens his thoughts on viewing theatre.

Awaiting yet another issue of the journal, I sign off for the present.       

CHANDARAHATER KUTIR: A Haibun on the Stage

 

CHANDARAHATER KUTIR: A Haibun on the Stage

In an interview just before his sudden death, the poet-novelist Rabisankar Bal, about an ancient Japanese poetry format, that I first came to know about, known as Haibun, where, a long prose is combined with short 3-line Haikus in a prosimetric form. This came to my mind when I witnessed Dark Studio’s production of the drama based on Bal’s novelette, CHANDARAHATER KUTIR, which loosely translates into ‘The Cottage of the Moon-struck’. The drama has been penned by Ujjwal Chatterjee and the play has been made by Prithwish Rana.

During his days at a rehab centre, Bal had written this piece which can be said to be his intense search for himself. It has no so-called story-line. And thus, it has no continuity of events, so to say. But there are episodes that are parts of the lives of the occupants of the centre. The episodic format builds up into a big poetry giving space to reality as well as the imaginary unreal. So, the reader finds himself on a journey into the memory of the inmates. Through a character named Manotosh Basu, Bal identifies himself and brings in the 17^th century Japanese poet who is recognized as one of the pioneers of the Haiku form, Matsuo Basho as his alter-ego. He takes on a long journey on ‘The Narrow Road to the Deep North’. 

Chatterjee has adapted the piece into a performative form, and Basho is a character in the play. The playwright has tackled the other characters which are quite a few, very dexterously. A number of incongruities has been apparent like the daughter of Basu, or the lover of an inmate, or for that matter, the late entries of a few characters. These inconsistencies are not ostensible in the reading of the novelette as they come naturally in the flow of the stream of consciousness of the writer. But it is absolutely a big challenge for the dramatist to cope with. The tangent references of the present-day political scene, I felt, are like blemishes on the poetic face of the play, and could have been avoided.

But what stuns the viewer is the challenge that Rana has chosen to handle. Very few makers would dare to even touch this novelette with a barge-pole. His determination to give shape to Bal’s writing and do justice to Chatterjee’s script warrants applauds and ovation. It would not be an exaggeration to say that his idiomatic design in mounting of the script has hitherto not been experienced by me. The surrealism in every nook and corner of the literary piece has been given a post-structural treatment, where the language of the play questions the established norms of theatre. And the conventional idiom of theatre has been deconstructed by Rana to present a beautiful Haibun on the stage of the Minerva Theatre.

Rana’s sense of the theatrical aesthetics is strongly present in every aspect of the making of the play, as was seen in his earlier work, too. Stage by Abhra Dasgupta has the post-structural elements in its design executions, with sectorial divisions and different elevations, projecting the total dramatic concept of the play. Lights, too, by Dasgupta give the viewer the experience of oscillating between the real and the dream worlds. Moumita Dutta’s dress needs special mention. Music planning and its execution by Debraj Bhattacharya and Tanmay Pal is an important element in this production. Buddhadev Das’s choreographic arrangements have helped very effectively the play-maker’s designs of building up different poignant dramatic moments on the stage.

It should be mentioned before signing off that Prithwish Rana has, apart from a few, orchestrated a bunch of very raw actors who have not failed him and have made the viewers look forward for their future endeavours.