Aayirathiyoru Iravugal
Playwright and director: Vinodhini Vaidynathan
Company: Theatre Zero
Having worked with Na. Muthuswamy of Koothu-p-Pattarai, Vinodhini Vaidynathan is fond of absurdist, experimental theatre. She followed a similar thought process while creating this take on The Arabian Nights.
About a year ago, she happened to watch an adaptation of Mary Zimmerman’s The Arabian Nights by students of the American International School, and was struck by the possibilities the story threw up.
Over the years, the actress has also seen how Indian mythology and fairytales liberally borrow from and feed off each other. An incident in Tenali Rama is seen in Birbal or Naseeruddin Hodja. “Our concepts are so open-ended; they fit any situation,” she says, citing an example of how rain was used as a metaphor to disprove a truth in both Arabian Nights as well as Tenali Rama. And so, this play too, as it draws you in with its story, will also leave you chuckling at its audacity when it comes to characters.
Before writing Aayirathiyoru Iravugal, Vinodhini bought seven versions of The Arabian Nights in Tamil and Sir Richard Burton’s tome in English. “Some focussed on the description of the culture in Baghdad; others on the stories… I also looked at it from the angle of gender politics,” says Vinodhini.
She believes a play has to be physical, and steers away from static stages. “You have such a large canvas to play upon… there are djinns, flying carpets…” All this would have required a huge budget. So, Vinodhini did the best thing possible. She upcycled her set. The stage will mostly be set at two levels, and minarets and palaces will be created using shadow play. A plastic bucket will turn into a well, and a mop stick will take on different avatars. “In theatre practice, we play games where we turn a single prop into various things. A flute can be a flute, a kaleidoscope, a telescope… This is something similar.”
“Aayirathiyoru Iravugal is experimental, avant-garde theatre; it follows the concept of ‘poor theatre’ and minimalism. The actor’s body is used to generate the right effect. I feel it is right to do that. After all, theatre is an actor’s medium,” she says.
The play has nine songs, and the actors will perform some of them live on stage. Aayirathiyoru Iravugal will also touch upon how cultures have fused due to varied influences. “After all,” she says, “this is our truth. All identities have blurred”.
Mundhirikkotte
Playwright: Sunandha Raghunathan
Director: Anitha Santhanam
Company: Guduguduppukkari
As a writer who is articulate, Sunandha Raghunathan, 35, is keen on exploring characters who are not. “Just because they don’t have profound words to describe something does not mean that they don’t experience that,” she says.
That philosophy rules her maiden Tamil play, Mundhirikkotte. Growing up in Kenya, Sunandha was more comfortable in English, and it was during a stint at Writers’ Bloc, the brainchild of Rage Theatre Mumbai in collaboration with The Royal Court U.K., that she no longer wanted to “show off” her English and felt liberated enough to write in Tamil, a language she started learning in Class VII.
The participants had to write a letter to someone, where they asked for something that the other person could give but would not want to. Suddenly, a name, Pavunu, cropped up in Sunandha’s mind. “Till then, I’d been very diffident about my Tamil. I felt I could never measure up and that all my insecurities would be exposed.”
Sunandha wanted to be a medium who channelled the characters. She says she felt less in control while writing in Tamil. “My craft was stripped bare. I could not indulge in verbal gymnastics.”
The play, which premiered in April 2016 at Prithvi, Mumbai, is set in salt pan territory. Driving to Puducherry, Sunandha would pass the stark, beautiful and harsh landscape. “You can’t even stand there for more than two minutes. It affects me that even just 50 km off our city, there is such depravation. Women depend on firewood…”
Sunandha and director Anitha Santhanam travelled to Parangipettai, about 200 km from Chennai, for the play. “I did not want to create poverty porn. For them, it is the business of living; for us, it is heartrending. I was an outsider looking in, and wanted to treat their story with respect and not exoticise their plight.” The play revolves around a crisis that erupts over a midday meal. Regional politics and local inequalities come to the fore and a powder keg is ready to explode. The lesson for all is that power gives people the authority to misbehave, across time and geography.
For Anitha, the guiding principle was that she must not romanticise the lives of the salt pan workers on stage. “Once I came on board, when the script was at an earlier stage, we visited Parangipettai and spent time there. My vision was to present things as they are. There is a beauty to their work, there is also toil. Both need representation. It’s no use playing melodious music and taming things down.”
The team used very few props on stage. “Even they morph into something else in every scene. It’s very minimalistic, very poetic, very simple, but it is not a dark play.”
The play has been designed, says Anitha, in a manner that the audience lives with the characters. “That’s another reason why it’s not romantic or cute; then, the audience can keep its distance. Instead, we would like them to walk into this unfamiliar world.”
So, who’s the ‘mundhirikkotte’ in the play? KP, Pavunu’s son, says Anitha. “He’s incorrigible and feisty and asks all kinds of questions.
Vandichodai
Playwright: Na Muthuswamy
Director: R.P. Rajanayahem
Company: Koothu-p-Pattarai
A play written in 1968 by theatre doyen Na. Muthuswamy and polished to perfection to impress critic Venkat Swaminathan comes alive on stage for the first time, nearly half a century after it was ideated.
But, everything in the play is still valid, says litterateur R.P. Rajanayahem, director. The play seeks to throw the spotlight on things that we normally shove under the carpet, such as the plight of labourers, the faceless people who keep a city in working order, and the innumerable fans of celebrities and political followers. “It’s only here you have thondars (followers). Elsewhere, it’s an equal system. And, what do they want? Just a smile keeps them going,” adds the director.
And while everyone has a mask on to hide their real faces, these people go faceless. “Have you ever stopped to see the face of the man who lays tar on the road? They have no identity; one of them represents all; all of them are one,” says Rajanayahem, who has also been part of the film industry.
The play delves into the concept of metamorphosis. A goat turns into a goatherd after eating a powerful herb. “Most of it is beyond belief, but it is possible. We speak about how knowledge must be shared by all, without withholding information.”
The play has a rhythm that Muthuswamy is known for. And so, Rajanayahem did not have to rework anything as a director. “It is about 50 minutes after rehearsals. If we edit out even a line, the meaning will change entirely,” he says. The director is well-versed with the works of Muthuswamy. He first read him as an 18-year-old. “I’ve grown in age and stature reading him.”
For the kind of scope the play has, it needed actors who would imbibe the spirit of the writing, internalise it and understand the subtext. “Luckily, we got actors who have the correct posture, gesture and speech,” says the director.
The play falls in the absurdist theatre category and Rajanayahem says that it will be appreciated and understood by those who read and keenly follow theatre.
How was the process of bringing alive such a feted script? “It is sweet sorrow,” smiles Rajanayahem, 52. “There is the delight of directing something written by a veteran, and the pressure to ensure it reaches the audience.”
However, says Rajanayahem, “even if I never direct again, I’d be happy I began my stint as theatre director with a gem such as this”.
Here are the ticket prices
August 19: Dear Liar - Rs. 1,000, Rs. 500 and Rs. 300
August 20: Yatagarasu – Rs. 600, Rs. 400 and Rs. 250
August 21: The God of Carnage – Rs. 600, Rs. 400 and Rs. 250
August 26: Aayirathiyoru Iravugal – Rs. 250
August 27: Mundhirikkotte – Rs. 250
August 28: Vandichodai – Rs. 250
Season passes are priced at Rs. 1,800 and Rs. 1,200 for English plays and Rs. 600 for Tamil plays.
The Hindu Theatre Fest 2016
Sponsors:
Title sponsor: YES Bank
Associate Sponsors: Kauvery Hospitals, Hindustan International School, Telangana Tourism
Hospitality partner: Taj Coromandel
Radio partner: Chennai Live - 104.8 FM
Mall partner: Phoenix MarketCity (Chennai)
Mobility partner: Ola
Gift partner: Terra Earthfood
Merchandise partner: Focus Art Gallery
