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.       

               

An accomplished stage actor’s venture into the world of screen: Sanjita in Doaansh

 

An accomplished stage actor’s venture into the world of screen: Sanjita in Doaansh

For the readers of my blog, it may be a little surprising to find this piece about a film viewing experience. The purpose of my doing this piece is to discuss an accomplished stage actor’s venture into the world of screen acting.   

It is nothing new in a stage actor facing the movie camera. So, seeing Sanjita work in her debut (?) film called Doaansh was nothing novel in it, as such. But what is fresh to experience is her style of acting. Her poignant portrayal of a character of a woman belonging to a fringe society of the Sundarbans, is indeed significantly refreshing for a theatre spectator.

The film produced by Mojotale Entertainments & Distributions is made by Sayan Bandopadhyay on the life and struggle of the Moulis, the honey-gatherers of the Sundarbans. The matriarch of one such family who had lost her husband and her son to the attacks of the tiger, as well as her daughter-in-law to the crocodile, is living a life of a boat-woman and brining-up her grand daughter who is in her youth bubbling with life. With oppressions mounting, things turn ugly and the woman delivers her way of justice to square things up.

Though the script gives not much space to Sanjita to elucidate the character of the elderly woman, but her gait, her flexing of the hands of a tired oarswoman, the subtle expressions of her eyes, twitching of her face muscles and of course her delivery of dialogues in a non-dramatic dreary tone of worn-out woman and that too in a lingo far from the urbane tongue, bring out the inner soul of the tormented character. The internal texture of roughness in the woman has been brought out in a silent mien in the last shot that has been exquisitely framed by the maker. As such close-up viewings for the theatre spectators are never possible, so the quality of performance on the part of the actor has to be stepped down. Thus, for an actor like Sanjita who has honed her stage acting to such heights, it is a challenge that requires a lot of cerebral exercise and a lot of skill to perform. And she has done her bit to perfection as much as was possible for her in the breathing space the script offered her. Such differentiating performances on screen are not much seen in established stage actors, baring a few. And as such many renowned actors of the stage have failed to put a mark on the screen.

We certainly can hope to see Sanjita on the screen in the future.         

THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR : hopefully a little stand-apart theatre journal

 

THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR : hopefully a little stand-apart theatre journal

Yet another theatre journal has been launched. This itself is on one-hand a gratifying news as it indicates an effort on the part of the publishers, who are basically theatre-workers to go in for some literary quest alongside their performance pursuits. On the other-hand there may be a factor of fright of experiencing yet another dreary exercise of going through articles that have little novelty in them. This apprehension of the reader is not unfounded as most of the theatre journals are stuffed with articles which are mostly ‘cut-and-paste’ stuffs lacking in originality.

Going through the first issue of THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR I believe that it would tread a diverse path in the future which may not be radically different, but would certainly be different, as the name suggests. The name THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR would roughly translate into ‘the third space of theatre’. As the third dimension gives a sense of volume – an extension to the length and breadth of anything we see, so one can say, it is in this case, too. The journal seems to open up a third space that is both an extension of the space we generally think about and talk about, as well as about the off-center or off-off-center perspectives of our theatre world.

But the most significant character of this periodical, quarterly, I suppose, is that it is not a mouthpiece, a term which some may resent, or a publication of a particular theatre group. It is a periodical on behalf of a group of young theatre talents who have their own theatre groups to manage, and who had joined hands to form a platform by the name of Jahanamer Samachar, which literally translates into News from Hell. The name itself suggests that these people seem to venture into areas where conventionalists would fear to step into. They are bent to go against the orthodoxy of the elitist mindset of the established. This platform was active during the Covid times with relief works and produced a very popular programme of interactions with people of theatre on the net called Anadhikar Charcha, which again loosely translates into Unwarranted Discussions. And on their completion of five years of camaraderie in Hell, Jahanamer Samachar has decided to go in prints with THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR which according to them is ‘an itinerant manifesto of Jahanamer Samachar’.

The foursome who are the mainstay of Jahanamer Samachar, Debashis Dutta of IFTA, Rakesh Ghosh of Dumdum Shabdomukdho, Atanu Sarkar of Thealight and Avi Chakraborty of Ashoknagar Natyamukh form the editorial board of THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR with Anshuman Kar, who has carved out a niche in the Bengali poetry world, as the Chief Editor.

This edition has a very important article on Badal Sircar by Rajat Das, which helps the reader to get glimpses of the person in this poet-playwright whose centenary year is in the offing. Four in-depth studies on the workings of four great theatre-makers like K N Panicker, H Kanhailal, Satyabrata Raut and Syed Jamil Ahmed give the reader a semblance of the first-hand experiences that Debashis Dutta, Atanu Sarkar, Avi Chakraborty and Rajib Bardhan, respectively, had acquired during their interactions with these four greats.

A reproduction of an episode of Anadhikar Charcha brings back a fresh memory of the rare talent of the Bengali stage Prasenjit Bardhan, whom we lost so untimely.

The third space is defined by a playlet by Chaitali Chattopadhyay; an enlightening article by Atanu Sarkar on a fringe theatre group, Mangrove Theatre and its mentor Sajal Mondal; Silchar’s theatre history in an informative article by Dipendu Das; and a review article of Candid Theatre’s Malyaban by Ashok Bose. Hindol Bhattacharya has reviewed an anthology of poems, ‘Theatre Bishoyak Kobita’ by Bratya Basu.

The journal, at least the first issue is not voluminous as is seen with some in circulation, and which poses real problems in handling the volume, let alone reading it.

Before signing off let me divulge my misgivings about the editorial which ends with a reference to Estragon’s ‘crritic’ insult in Beckett’s Waiting. And the editor dedicates the journal to ‘those spectacled college-teacher-critics’ of the Bengali theatre whose ‘roles had been perfectly guessed by Beckett seventy-five years ago’. I feel I am lucky not to be at other end of the brunt, though I am a bespectacled retired college teacher, but I consider myself a viewer who writes reviews, and not a critic (or crritic). But unfortunately, I am seen as one considered as one. May I humbly take this opportunity to inform my blog readers that the Wikipedia page on Theatre Criticism is written by yours truly. And there I have differentiated Reviews from Criticisms, categorically. A critic writes extensive articles which are deep analytical discourses of the play against the backdrop of the theatre-arts as a whole, and a reviewer simply expresses his/her instant reactions after viewing the work. I do exactly that, and what the critic does is an exercise that is beyond my capacity.

But I wonder why is there such bitterness in the minds of the editorial board of THEATRER TRITYA PARISAR against those who choose to write on the works that are staged for public viewing?                    

Ashoknagar Natyamukh celebrates its pre-Silver Jubilee

 

Ashoknagar Natyamukh celebrates its pre-Silver Jubilee

Ashoknagar Natyamukh celebrated its pre-Silver Jubilee with a well-crafted short play and a seminar that had promises of a serious academic exercise at the Tripti Mitra Sabhagriha.  

The play TWO SOULS is an adaptation of O. Henry’s short story, ‘The Gift of the Magi’. The play has not been localized by Ribhu Chakraborty, and so the American setting, and that, too, of the early 20^th century New York has been kept with all its contexts and references. But the sequence of the O. Henry story of divulging the events to the reader that leads to what Laura Furman says ‘his famous trick – the twist at the end’, has been altered. Though the end has had to be kept as per the original, the magic of the Master gets a bit diluted. Furman notes, ‘the twist is really a wringing out of the plot elements and revealing something that was there all along but the reader hadn’t noticed.’ So, the progression of the plot that leads to the climactic twist matters a lot especially for such a gem of a short story as this one. The two main elements on which O. Henry built the story – Della’s knee-length hair and Jim’s pocket-watch did pose a problem for the adaptation.   

But that does not snatch away any bit of credit from the playwright. It was told that this drama was a maiden attempt on his part in penning a play. Though O. Henry’s couple are down-to-earth and trying to make ends meet on a shoe-string economy, the dramatist has given a poetic treatment to the relationship of the couple using poems and recent band-songs, which for the uninitiated viewer is a pleasant experience.

Abhi Chakraborty’s mounting of the play stressed largely on the visual aspect. So, he used the space of TMS more as a proscenium than as an intimate form. He elaborately put up the acting zone with innovative uses of props which included hanging widow frames, a frame purported to be a looking-glass, a couple of short stools, a short rostrum, a long draping cloth and plastic sheets and maple leaves cut-out from them. His designing thus was very well crafted giving the spectators a delightful treat. He was equally extravagant with lights and the soundscape that gave the production a richness. Though the plot of the story thrived on the frugality of the couple, the maker of the play underlined the love factor of the young couple. He was ably assisted by Shreya Sarkar in sound and make-up, and by Shouvik Modak in lights. The couple played by Sharnya De and Abhipsa Ghosh did their parts as directed.

In the second half of the evening Ashoknagar Natyamukh arranged a seminar entitled ‘Notee’r Katha’ which loosely in English would be ‘The Actress Speaks’. Four of present generation’s actresses, namely Amrapali Mitra, Rituparna Biswas, Indudipa Sinha and Gulshanara Khatun spoke about their experiences working with Ashoknagar Natyamukh under the direct care of Abhi and Sangeeta Chakraborty. But sadly, the seminar which was expected to have been a serious discussion on the process of building up a character and how these young actresses go through that process, turned out to be a very light-hearted frolicking exercise mainly due to an inapt conducting by Debjani Mukherjee.     

Mouna Bansari – a 4-star presentation by Angan Belgharia

 

Mouna Bansari – a 4-star presentation by Angan Belgharia

The eternal love story of Orpheus and Eurydice from the Greek mythology has been adapted by Sanjoy Chattopadhyay for Angan Belgharia for its latest production MOUNA BANSARI. There are a number of versions of this pair’s undying tale of love. These versions give different causes for the death of Eurydice, as also of the character of Aristaeus. In some versions it is said that Aristaeus was a shepherd, while in some other he is described as a bee-breeder. Then in one tale it is said that Aristaeus was attracted towards Eurydice and he chased her in the woods and while fleeing from him she was bitten by a snake. In some versions it is said the on the night of her wedding with Orpheus she was bitten by a snake while dancing in the woods with the nymphs. Chattopadhyay has used the character of Aristaeus to bring in an element of thrill and so what we get is a gripping tale of love and excitement. Choosing from the innumerous situations and characters from the Greek tale Chattopadhyay has chosen seven characters and two main incidents to build his play. The lyre of Orpheus is replaced here with the flute, reminding one of Kazi Nazrul’s ‘Orphius-er bansori’ in the poem ‘Bidrohi’. However, in the first part he deals with the affairs of Orpheus and Eurydice, and the villainy of Aristaeus. In the next part the playwright describes the journey of Orpheus to the empire of Thedas in Hell to bring back Eurydice. And in the process of telling the story he has sharply hinted on the present-day scenario of the lumpen politics of caste and religion that is being methodically injected into our lives. The reference of the ‘Chowkidar’ in the character of Aristaeus in another interesting reference. The character of Orpheus has been given a poetic treatment. The character of Eurydice’s father, Kiriakos has been built in the mould of a sooth-sayer, thus posing a counter-point to the character of Aristaeus. The nymphs play as Chorus. But their songs do not go well with the build-up of the play.

Abhi Sengupta’s making of the play needs to be applauded. His designing has adequately brought out the richness of the script. As the play has two distinct parts there is a chance of a drop of the tempo, but Sengupta has aptly overcome that apprehension by meticulously mounting each of the scenes. though my line of vision was not ideal as the seat allotted to me at the AFA was at a side, I could judge that Debabrata Maity’s stage architecture and its construction by Madan Halder was certanly one of the strong points of the production. Soumen Chakraborty’s lights were perfect to bring out the moods of different theatrical moments created on the stage. He did not go in for dazzling illumination though there were ample scopes and opportunities for it. Alok Debnath’s make-up and hair-do by Tanusree Sengupta or Debabrata Das’s costume designs need mention. The puppets by Samit Das and his choreography together with Minakshi Mukherjee’s dance compositions deserve kudos as do Nilabha Chattopadhyay’s calligraphic artwork.

Samit Das’s Orpheus with his diction and expressions was a creditable performance. Subhashis Dutt’s Aristaeus was exquisite and the actor ably avoided overdoing his part. Mousumi Pal’s Eurydice. Subrata Sarkar’s Thedas and Baby Sengupta’s Queen were done to the director’s instructions. The Director himself portrayed Kiriakos.  

So, this is a production that could easily get a 4-star gradation on my part.    

Khardaha Dwisattik’s Dhusar Otit – commendable job very well done

 Khardaha Dwisattik’s Dhusar Otit – a commendable job very well done

In these times of great intolerance where one faces a peculiar urge to present a play in unnecessary grandiosity with lots of acrobatic feats and gimmickry with lights and sets, and pushing the drama text or the acting element to the back seat, it certainly becomes a very pleasant experience on the part of the viewers when you are made to sit up and watch an almost perfect production unfolding on the stage, and that too in a work by a greenhorn group. Yes, it was a very rewarding experience watching Khardaha Dwisattik present Dhusar Otit (The Gray Past), a play written and directed by Prasun Banerjee at Minerva Theatre.

The play is about the lumpen-ruled anarchic times of Bengal of the 70s of the last century. The script is crispy, taut and slim with no extra trusses nor with any loose ends. The play is thus tuned perfectly to touch the higher chords to reach the intermittent crescendos that give the play its character. At the centre of the story is a political party reared ruffian who has his eyes on the daughter of a retired teacher. He announces that though he is a worshipper of ‘Asia’s Mukti Surya’, purported to be Indira Gandhi, he in fact belongs to that class who takes the shape of the container they are poured into. And he also declares whoever is in power, the backbone of their strength is them, only. For those who have had their slices of experience of the turbulent days of the 70s do find the play authentic, or as Tagore had said about his Rakta Karabi (Red Oleanders), ‘truthful’. And for the younger generations of the spectators the play would be equally engrossing for its crispness. Bereft of any melodrama the dialogues of the characters, too, have no extra tidings. The characters are also very well defined.            

In the making of the play Banerjee has been very cautious not to lessen the tempo in its progression towards the climax which has a surprise stored for the viewers. The last scene where the playwright-maker plays a game with the spectator is very well crafted. A few theatrical elements like the silent acting in the background, or the re-entries of the lout, or for that matter a very quick change of dress by the mother to show a change of time, have very neatly executed.

But the mainstay of the production is the impeccable acting of all the members. Sumit Kumar Roy’s acting acumen has been repeatedly being proved and he has compelled the viewers to take note of this. He restrained himself in many a place by simply applying his cerebral faculty, to tread into over doing his part and make it a typical ‘cinematic villain’. He also is credited as the ‘creative director’ of the production. The veteran thespian Aruna Mukhopadhyay’s helpless mother will remain in the minds of the viewers. This actress has remained in the wings as if, though having given us so many performances since long. This shows our lack of the power of appreciation, of course. Banerjee himself was in the role of the protesting father. But Nibedita Bhattacharya has astounded the spectator by her stellar performance as the daughter. Her subdued expressions in the climactic scene have made the viewer to sit up and take notice.  

Abhijit Acharya’s aptly scored music and Bablu Sarkar’s minimalistic lights with Neel Kaushik’s time-identifying sets have contributed immensely to the success of the production. Kudos is due to Banerjee for his dress designing which marks the era of the 70s immaculately.