Ranga Shankara, Bangalore's very special theatre space, turned five years and 2,000 shows old recently. Arundhati Nag feels a mixture of emotions, towards what has been her dream and obsession. She is proud of what the state-of the-art theatre complex has been able to achieve, but frets and worries too.
“I have not had an occasion to regret the project I took on,” says the theatre and film actor. The fact that Ranga Shankara has sustained itself proves that theatre will not go out of fashion as long as people feel the need to step into another man's shoes, she says.
Not all rosy
That does not quite mean that it is a fairytale scenario. “I would like to see at least 200 people turn up for any production. That is not too much to expect in a city of several lakhs of people, is it?” she asks. Yes, there are houseful shows when Naseeruddin Shah or Shabana Azmi come with a production, but that is not good enough for a project that hopes to keep “theatre alive” (as its tagline goes) all year round.
The nature of plays staged over the years is also a pointer to the trends in theatre. When it started, the ratio of Kannada and English plays here was aimed to be at 60:40. But as many as 95 per cent of plays staged here last year have been Kannada plays, says Arundhati. It shows that even as a couple of English plays staged make a splash and get all the attention, these are no way comparable to the mighty body of regional theatres in, say, Maharashtra or Karnataka. “Regional theatre is a quiet juggernaut that rolls on and on,” says Arundhati.
Theatre today, especially what is born in metropolises, should work towards building bridges and connecting with “their own backwards”, drawing from the rich and indigenous theatrical traditions, believes Arundhati. Urban theatre should, simultaneously, rediscover the “voice of dissent” that was so audible in the theatre of the 1970s, she adds. “Plays are now largely in the realm of personal angst, and no longer provide a platform for the people.”
AS TOLD TO BAGESHREE S.
