Though Michael Kiwanuka was chosen as the BBC Sound of 2012, it’s a bit more than apparent that this 25 year old’s first 10 track musical endeavor is a straight ricochet of 70’s jazz and all things retro.
The album opens with the jazz soaked atmospheric ‘Tell Me A Tale’, replete with subtle saxophone cadences and shades and tinges of easy listening lounge. ‘I’m Getting Ready’ is a cry to the Lord, furnished with gentle brushed drums while ‘Rest’ operates on a lilting guitar riff quite reminiscent of Ray LaMontagne’s ‘Let It Be Me’. ‘I’ll Get Along’ is hopeful and trippy with a catchy flute riff.
‘Home Again’, a soothing acoustic take with soft hand claps in the background is accompanied by Kiwanuka’s tone that’s filled with the sort of pessimism that’s on the brink of optimism. Doo-wops weave in and out on ‘Bones’, a feet tapping ditty.
The album’s coda surfaces with the onset of ‘Worry Walks Beside Me’. Orchestral ornamentations are featured heavily on each track.
Essentially, Home Again is a sort of thesaurus of 70’s folk and soul, a ‘Otis-Redding-meets-Amy Winehouse –with Bill Wither-ish- nuances’ Kiwanuka’s voice has a certain aged and weighty quality that works well as he sings about pain, loss and so on. You can say that each song is a variation of the previous yet there’s nothing particularly wrong about that. If anything, the album contains genuinely good music, the kind that creates a warm hearted, cozy ambience at a small get together or that can be played in the car during a long drive.
There’s nothing spectacularly life changing about the songs yet they’re a breath of fresh air as compared to the overproduced, meticulously packaged stuff that’s been circulating the airwaves lately.
Friday, June 22, 2012
An Interview with Alaknanda Samarth
AN INTERVIEW WITH ALAKNANDA SAMARTH
Appeared in the March 2012 issue of PT Notes.
All my life, I’d heard of Alaknanda Samarth’s work and worth, yet I never managed to see her performances or talk to her about her experiences on stage. When I first met her, I was very young, at an age where I couldn’t fully comprehend what her work was about. Yet, I always felt a sense of pride because she happened to be my aunt. So I decided to interview her for PT Notes.
Her powerful words and the richness of her theatre experiences educated me on what theatre has been like in the West and here in India, through so many decades.
Aadya : Satyadev Dubey has passed away. You acted in his first and biggest hit, 'Band Darwaze'. How did working with him contribute to your growth?
Alaknanda Samarth : Dubey in 1964-'65 had a corrosive laugh, a savage impatience with existing systems and with himself. He commanded a chaste, muscular Hindi. He offered me a role in Sartre's French play 'No Exit'(1944) - in Urdu.
I’d just returned from spending 5 years in the West and I'd never acted in Urdu. First, he cast me as the lesbian Post Office clerk and then changed it to the socialite murderess. So Sulabha Deshpande and I switched roles. He played the army deserter. All three are dead. In Hell. Amrish Puri played the Valet/Death.
Every language is a map with bleeding, porous borders. It's not bandaged. 'Band Darwaze' helped my growth at the deepest level of language as consciousness. He paid meticulous attention to syntax and the substrata of text analysis.
'She's India's only properly trained actress,' he always said of me to my embarrassment! We didn't take ourselves seriously. To this day people who've NEVER SEEN THE PRODUCTION DESCRIBE IT TO ME IN DETAIL. Why did it sweep everyone off their feet?
Because it was the moment that language shifted palpably and visibly on the Bombay stage and so gave rise to a new, inclusive audience.
THE AUDIENCE CHANGED. That's a revolutionary act in theatre. It doesn't happen twice. It happened in 'BAND DARWAZE'.
Aadya: Why did you go to train in the West? Were there Indian influences at RADA? Can you compare the Indian and British
theatre scenes in the '60's?
AS : In 1959, I played Strindberg's 'Miss Julie' opposite Mr Alkazi in English. I didn't know that there was a professor, from an American university, in the audience.
They offered me a round airtrip and the Wien International Scholarship in Theatre Arts to Brandeis University in the U.S. I hadn't even heard of Brandeis!
It was random, quite by chance! On the way back with my airticket I stopped in London, auditioned for RADA and got a scholarship.
At RADA, India was not in the consciousness. I was one of the very first few Indians there. No one mentioned India. I was given leading roles in European classics. The peer group was wildly talented and generous with me. They are lifelong friends. I went with the flow.
Voice training was the big discovery. That led me to study Indian vachika traditions. Neela Bhagwat worked on pre-expressive sound systems with me.
Comparisons are corrosive. Contexts are specific. In the '60's, Indian theatre had to reclaim its narrative and reconfigure. The FTII and NSD began to evolve training programmes for the modern Indian actor. Hugely painful, ongoing tasks. You know that struggle and history.
Since 1993, I've known the great Voice Teacher Patsy Rodenburg. Her work on the actor's Circles of Energy and Presence is profound. Her lived understanding of Shakespeare is a revelation
Britain saw an explosion of popular culture and a sexual revolution. Censorship was abolished in 1968. Nudity, sex and drugs shockingly appeared on stage in the musical 'Hair'. In Osborne's 'Look Back in Anger'(1956) an upper class protagonist was seen ironing for the first time! In Wesker's play 'The Kitchen'(1953), cooks, cleaners, waitresses and immigrants sweated it out over the kitchen sink.
On TV, Asians and Blacks became visible. The British Film Institute (BFI) did a book, 'Black and White in Colour’ (ed. Jim Pines, 1992), on 45 years of Black and Asian representation. One of my portrayals was chosen as the three most radical. In 'Z Cars' a hit police series I play an Indian woman with 2 kids married to a Black man who murders a white policeman with an axe. ‘A Place of Safety' deals with Institutional racism in the Metropolitan Police. Even today, that would be explosive.
In 1975, I was the 1st Indian actress in a classical lead at the National Theatre at the Old Vic - the shrine where Olivier, Gielgud, Richard Burton had acted. There was no political correctness, no emerging Indian market, no flavour of the month Bollywood. One had to be on the ball on stage in a star studded cast of superb verse speakers.
Today's 2nd generation British Asian actors speak English as their mother tongue. In the last decade, there are many more roles for them. British Asian dance has an international superstar in Akram Khan. But the theatre movement has been absorbed. The Bollywood imaginary has taken over.
I've never been part of the Asian scene. There has been some interaction with Black Theatre and Film collectives. Played famous Arab texts like Tewfik Al-Hakim.
Worked over the years with little known avant-garde groups like The Address, Puzzle Club, Muzikansky, Hawsksmoor Music Project. Maverick radicals, in studio theatres, no publicity or funds but freedom to culturally catalyse great texts in my own voice and defy categorisation.
Aadya: You taught acting at the NSD. Could you speak about that?
AS: BV Karanth invited me. I lived in India (1979-82). Acting classes were in Hindi. Some students didn’t speak it fluently. I changed it so they did exercises in their mothertongues to unleash internal rhythms. Teaching has led me to a methodology but I'm not an academic or systematic, rarely write things down. It’s in the moment for the actor in front of me, their fears,
time, place, reality. Every actor gets to the role in his own way. Later I worked in Trichur, directed 2 open air productions of Shakespeare and Edward Bond in Malayalam, learnt the texts by heart! Working with Tomba, I found Manipur's electrifying vachika rituals. In London, actors are from everywhere. Many cadences, histories of Civil War, Communism, the Holocaust, Palestine. We've been exploring Cultural Memory, Sound Memory
Aadya: You've done landmark solo shows. Tell us about 'KUNTI AND THE HUMAN VOICE' and "MEDEAMATERIAL' both in Bombay.
What are the modes of rehearsal in collaborations since you live far from India?
AS: I don’t think in terms of 'far and near'. There are 'Other Indias', diasporic energies, wheels within cultural wheels. It’s a question of unravelling them.
'KUNTI AND THE HUMAN VOICE' in Hindi and English, directed by Kumar Shahani was the first solo in 1987. It examined the female impulse in two distinct contexts. Kumar's sensibility and unique vision of cinema actually transformed my acting. Gave it transparency. We went on to do 5 major pieces of work together, including 2 feature films, one unfinished feature and 2 short films in London.
Solos have been a constant, in music theatre, texts by Pakistani, Arab, European writers in London. In 1992, I began an ongoing collaboration with visual artist Nalini Malani. We did Heiner Muller's Medea Trilogy. Nalini's work is so layered. The body becomes a magical image. It's glamorous. The ground rules are not those of theatre. It’s freeing.
Our latest in Switzerland in 2010 was 'Medea Revisited'.
'Texts' of this complexity are 2-3 years in the making. With shifting modes of exchange but always with constant trust. On the phone, interactive, in person and in the last lap 4-6 weeks in situ. That’s the mode of rehearsal.
Aadya : Have you got any future projects?
AS : A couple of ideas, one in India. What they have in common is to test the limits of performance, acting itself and thus question the role of the audience/spectator/listener. Such work has no cultural marketability. It’s working on and in process and as such on the cutting edge of vulnerability and even failure. That gives it energy.
Appeared in the March 2012 issue of PT Notes.
All my life, I’d heard of Alaknanda Samarth’s work and worth, yet I never managed to see her performances or talk to her about her experiences on stage. When I first met her, I was very young, at an age where I couldn’t fully comprehend what her work was about. Yet, I always felt a sense of pride because she happened to be my aunt. So I decided to interview her for PT Notes.
Her powerful words and the richness of her theatre experiences educated me on what theatre has been like in the West and here in India, through so many decades.
Aadya : Satyadev Dubey has passed away. You acted in his first and biggest hit, 'Band Darwaze'. How did working with him contribute to your growth?
Alaknanda Samarth : Dubey in 1964-'65 had a corrosive laugh, a savage impatience with existing systems and with himself. He commanded a chaste, muscular Hindi. He offered me a role in Sartre's French play 'No Exit'(1944) - in Urdu.
I’d just returned from spending 5 years in the West and I'd never acted in Urdu. First, he cast me as the lesbian Post Office clerk and then changed it to the socialite murderess. So Sulabha Deshpande and I switched roles. He played the army deserter. All three are dead. In Hell. Amrish Puri played the Valet/Death.
Every language is a map with bleeding, porous borders. It's not bandaged. 'Band Darwaze' helped my growth at the deepest level of language as consciousness. He paid meticulous attention to syntax and the substrata of text analysis.
'She's India's only properly trained actress,' he always said of me to my embarrassment! We didn't take ourselves seriously. To this day people who've NEVER SEEN THE PRODUCTION DESCRIBE IT TO ME IN DETAIL. Why did it sweep everyone off their feet?
Because it was the moment that language shifted palpably and visibly on the Bombay stage and so gave rise to a new, inclusive audience.
THE AUDIENCE CHANGED. That's a revolutionary act in theatre. It doesn't happen twice. It happened in 'BAND DARWAZE'.
Aadya: Why did you go to train in the West? Were there Indian influences at RADA? Can you compare the Indian and British
theatre scenes in the '60's?
AS : In 1959, I played Strindberg's 'Miss Julie' opposite Mr Alkazi in English. I didn't know that there was a professor, from an American university, in the audience.
They offered me a round airtrip and the Wien International Scholarship in Theatre Arts to Brandeis University in the U.S. I hadn't even heard of Brandeis!
It was random, quite by chance! On the way back with my airticket I stopped in London, auditioned for RADA and got a scholarship.
At RADA, India was not in the consciousness. I was one of the very first few Indians there. No one mentioned India. I was given leading roles in European classics. The peer group was wildly talented and generous with me. They are lifelong friends. I went with the flow.
Voice training was the big discovery. That led me to study Indian vachika traditions. Neela Bhagwat worked on pre-expressive sound systems with me.
Comparisons are corrosive. Contexts are specific. In the '60's, Indian theatre had to reclaim its narrative and reconfigure. The FTII and NSD began to evolve training programmes for the modern Indian actor. Hugely painful, ongoing tasks. You know that struggle and history.
Since 1993, I've known the great Voice Teacher Patsy Rodenburg. Her work on the actor's Circles of Energy and Presence is profound. Her lived understanding of Shakespeare is a revelation
Britain saw an explosion of popular culture and a sexual revolution. Censorship was abolished in 1968. Nudity, sex and drugs shockingly appeared on stage in the musical 'Hair'. In Osborne's 'Look Back in Anger'(1956) an upper class protagonist was seen ironing for the first time! In Wesker's play 'The Kitchen'(1953), cooks, cleaners, waitresses and immigrants sweated it out over the kitchen sink.
On TV, Asians and Blacks became visible. The British Film Institute (BFI) did a book, 'Black and White in Colour’ (ed. Jim Pines, 1992), on 45 years of Black and Asian representation. One of my portrayals was chosen as the three most radical. In 'Z Cars' a hit police series I play an Indian woman with 2 kids married to a Black man who murders a white policeman with an axe. ‘A Place of Safety' deals with Institutional racism in the Metropolitan Police. Even today, that would be explosive.
In 1975, I was the 1st Indian actress in a classical lead at the National Theatre at the Old Vic - the shrine where Olivier, Gielgud, Richard Burton had acted. There was no political correctness, no emerging Indian market, no flavour of the month Bollywood. One had to be on the ball on stage in a star studded cast of superb verse speakers.
Today's 2nd generation British Asian actors speak English as their mother tongue. In the last decade, there are many more roles for them. British Asian dance has an international superstar in Akram Khan. But the theatre movement has been absorbed. The Bollywood imaginary has taken over.
I've never been part of the Asian scene. There has been some interaction with Black Theatre and Film collectives. Played famous Arab texts like Tewfik Al-Hakim.
Worked over the years with little known avant-garde groups like The Address, Puzzle Club, Muzikansky, Hawsksmoor Music Project. Maverick radicals, in studio theatres, no publicity or funds but freedom to culturally catalyse great texts in my own voice and defy categorisation.
Aadya: You taught acting at the NSD. Could you speak about that?
AS: BV Karanth invited me. I lived in India (1979-82). Acting classes were in Hindi. Some students didn’t speak it fluently. I changed it so they did exercises in their mothertongues to unleash internal rhythms. Teaching has led me to a methodology but I'm not an academic or systematic, rarely write things down. It’s in the moment for the actor in front of me, their fears,
time, place, reality. Every actor gets to the role in his own way. Later I worked in Trichur, directed 2 open air productions of Shakespeare and Edward Bond in Malayalam, learnt the texts by heart! Working with Tomba, I found Manipur's electrifying vachika rituals. In London, actors are from everywhere. Many cadences, histories of Civil War, Communism, the Holocaust, Palestine. We've been exploring Cultural Memory, Sound Memory
Aadya: You've done landmark solo shows. Tell us about 'KUNTI AND THE HUMAN VOICE' and "MEDEAMATERIAL' both in Bombay.
What are the modes of rehearsal in collaborations since you live far from India?
AS: I don’t think in terms of 'far and near'. There are 'Other Indias', diasporic energies, wheels within cultural wheels. It’s a question of unravelling them.
'KUNTI AND THE HUMAN VOICE' in Hindi and English, directed by Kumar Shahani was the first solo in 1987. It examined the female impulse in two distinct contexts. Kumar's sensibility and unique vision of cinema actually transformed my acting. Gave it transparency. We went on to do 5 major pieces of work together, including 2 feature films, one unfinished feature and 2 short films in London.
Solos have been a constant, in music theatre, texts by Pakistani, Arab, European writers in London. In 1992, I began an ongoing collaboration with visual artist Nalini Malani. We did Heiner Muller's Medea Trilogy. Nalini's work is so layered. The body becomes a magical image. It's glamorous. The ground rules are not those of theatre. It’s freeing.
Our latest in Switzerland in 2010 was 'Medea Revisited'.
'Texts' of this complexity are 2-3 years in the making. With shifting modes of exchange but always with constant trust. On the phone, interactive, in person and in the last lap 4-6 weeks in situ. That’s the mode of rehearsal.
Aadya : Have you got any future projects?
AS : A couple of ideas, one in India. What they have in common is to test the limits of performance, acting itself and thus question the role of the audience/spectator/listener. Such work has no cultural marketability. It’s working on and in process and as such on the cutting edge of vulnerability and even failure. That gives it energy.
Deepika Amin's Interview
Appeared in the February 2012 issue of PT Notes
Aadya Shah : How long have you been doing theatre?
Deepika Amin: I think I have always been doing theatre.
As a child, I was in Sushma Seth’s children’s theatre group in Delhi. Then, in college, I joined Barry John’s theatre group TAG in Delhi (this is before he moved to Mumbai) and we did many English and Hindi plays. After I came to Mumbai- TV took over my life and unfortunately theatre took a backseat.
Then I lived in Jakarta for 6 years where I was with the expat theatre group Jakarta Players where I acted in many plays and musicals. I also directed 1 Hindi and 2 English plays there.
Returning to Mumbai, I plunged back into theatre with 3 plays with Lillete Dubey, (Wedding Album, Sammy and Womanly Voices ) and another play with Mahesh Dattani.
AS: Have you done plays in other languages?
Primarily English and Hindi. Some years ago, I did a play in my mother tongue -Marathi - Ammaldar.
Any favourite playwrights?
DA: I have mostly acted in contemporary plays and I feel I have missed out in performing in the classics. Playwrights like Ibsen and Pinter have fascinated me. I would love to be in a classic like Ibsen’s "A Doll’s House" or "The House of Bernada Alba".
Doing more musicals is my longstanding desire (I previously was in musicals like “Annie Get Your Gun”, “South Pacific”, “Pizzazz” etc). I have been learning Hindustani music for many years and would love to be in a Hindi musical.
AS: Can you talk about your experience of performing in Pereira's Bakery?
DA:“Pereira’s Bakery at 76 Chapel Road” has been a very rewarding experience. I have known Zafar for many years as a co actor and he treats his actors with gentleness and sensitivity. With a cast of such wonderful actors, one has been able to learn a lot from everyone.
AS: Do talk about your character, Maria.
DA: Maria - is the earth mother. She is the binding force of her family and wants to do the best she can for them. Yet, she is traditional enough to believe that the final word of authority lies with her husband and will stand by him.
AS: What are your views about the bureaucracy in Mumbai faced by families like the Pereira's, who have lived in a community for a long time?
DA: As I drove to rehearsals in Bandra every evening...I could see the reality all around me. I'd see a quaint little bungalow and think, " Oh this will probably be the next one to go - how long will they hold out?" We must also understand the problems of those living in these bungalows. Maintenance is a nightmare and most cannot afford it. But replacing them with glass skyscrapers is not the solution. Old heritage must be preserved.
AS: Mention some of your other work
DA: I was recently in Shyam Benegal’s film "Well Done Abba". But people still remember me from the well known TV serial Farmaan directed by Lekh Tandon - (for which I got Best Actress) . That time I used my maiden name, Deepika Deshpande.
AS: What are your views on the theatre scene right now in Mumbai?
DA: It mainly lacks venues. There is a lot of enthusiasm for theatre but unfortunately there is no outlet, apart from NCPA and Prithvi Theatre. In terms of creativity and scripts it’s doing great. But theatre is not a revenue generating activity and so a patron is needed.
Aadya Shah : How long have you been doing theatre?
Deepika Amin: I think I have always been doing theatre.
As a child, I was in Sushma Seth’s children’s theatre group in Delhi. Then, in college, I joined Barry John’s theatre group TAG in Delhi (this is before he moved to Mumbai) and we did many English and Hindi plays. After I came to Mumbai- TV took over my life and unfortunately theatre took a backseat.
Then I lived in Jakarta for 6 years where I was with the expat theatre group Jakarta Players where I acted in many plays and musicals. I also directed 1 Hindi and 2 English plays there.
Returning to Mumbai, I plunged back into theatre with 3 plays with Lillete Dubey, (Wedding Album, Sammy and Womanly Voices ) and another play with Mahesh Dattani.
AS: Have you done plays in other languages?
Primarily English and Hindi. Some years ago, I did a play in my mother tongue -Marathi - Ammaldar.
Any favourite playwrights?
DA: I have mostly acted in contemporary plays and I feel I have missed out in performing in the classics. Playwrights like Ibsen and Pinter have fascinated me. I would love to be in a classic like Ibsen’s "A Doll’s House" or "The House of Bernada Alba".
Doing more musicals is my longstanding desire (I previously was in musicals like “Annie Get Your Gun”, “South Pacific”, “Pizzazz” etc). I have been learning Hindustani music for many years and would love to be in a Hindi musical.
AS: Can you talk about your experience of performing in Pereira's Bakery?
DA:“Pereira’s Bakery at 76 Chapel Road” has been a very rewarding experience. I have known Zafar for many years as a co actor and he treats his actors with gentleness and sensitivity. With a cast of such wonderful actors, one has been able to learn a lot from everyone.
AS: Do talk about your character, Maria.
DA: Maria - is the earth mother. She is the binding force of her family and wants to do the best she can for them. Yet, she is traditional enough to believe that the final word of authority lies with her husband and will stand by him.
AS: What are your views about the bureaucracy in Mumbai faced by families like the Pereira's, who have lived in a community for a long time?
DA: As I drove to rehearsals in Bandra every evening...I could see the reality all around me. I'd see a quaint little bungalow and think, " Oh this will probably be the next one to go - how long will they hold out?" We must also understand the problems of those living in these bungalows. Maintenance is a nightmare and most cannot afford it. But replacing them with glass skyscrapers is not the solution. Old heritage must be preserved.
AS: Mention some of your other work
DA: I was recently in Shyam Benegal’s film "Well Done Abba". But people still remember me from the well known TV serial Farmaan directed by Lekh Tandon - (for which I got Best Actress) . That time I used my maiden name, Deepika Deshpande.
AS: What are your views on the theatre scene right now in Mumbai?
DA: It mainly lacks venues. There is a lot of enthusiasm for theatre but unfortunately there is no outlet, apart from NCPA and Prithvi Theatre. In terms of creativity and scripts it’s doing great. But theatre is not a revenue generating activity and so a patron is needed.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Interview with David Hirst
Life and acting. It’s all about objectives. At the end of the day, it’s about what you want, what action you’re going to take and what your obstacles are.
I really got into theatre at the age of 13. My friend and I ended up stealing a role from the play. I’ve kind of been the weird actor-y kid since I could speak. I tend to go for really physical based stuff. I normally start off the workshops, with getting people to tell stories with physical movements and getting them to highlight how the physical is used as a tool of communication. Just movements, no verbal at all. At the same time, you put in emotion. So you let the physical and the emotion to tell the story. It’s like watching a movie with the sound off because just by the physicality of it, you should be able to sense how the person is feeling from what their body is doing
For people who are doing the workshop, it’s primarily to learn. To broaden their horizons and to hone their skills. A lot of people go to drama school, and they end up working and some of their skills fall to the wayside. The workshops are to inspire newcomers or amateurs and instruct them. And for others, it’s to remember the skills they have and help them focus on what they need to improve.
Indians seem to be hungrier for the theatre and for the knowledge. For people who have so little, as in no time, no room, no rehearsal spaces, there is an absolute hunger and a drive to create. If I do a workshop here, when it ends, 10 people will want to get a coffee with you and talk to you over the next hour about what you’ve just done. I prefer the Indian way, because they want to learn and therefore I want to teach them. They’re a lot more willing to put themselves out there. The work ethic matters too. I’ve had to kick a couple of people out of workshops because they’re 15 minutes late. It’s also hard to get an honest conversation going. Everybody’s so eager to please, eager to be seen in a nice light. I really try to break down that barrier; I try to say, “It’s ok if you don’t understand.” But once the bond has been created, they’re very giving actors. They really want to do the work for you. We’re having a lot of problems of funding in Australia at the moment, because unfortunately they don’t see the value of the art.
I’m very inspired by Sam Shepard, just because so much of his stuff comes from his own life and he’s so willing to put it out there in front of you. I’m a very big Ibsen fan. I love his play ‘An Enemy of the People’. My boss, Glen Hayden inspires me too. Thespo inspires me. To make a festival out of almost nothing is amazing. Basically anybody who has a passion for art inspires me.
I‘d absolutely love to train and perform here. I really want to perform at the Prithvi Theatre. I want that on my CV. It’s a brilliant space.
- as told to Aadya Shah
For Prithvi Theatre Notes, January 2012
I really got into theatre at the age of 13. My friend and I ended up stealing a role from the play. I’ve kind of been the weird actor-y kid since I could speak. I tend to go for really physical based stuff. I normally start off the workshops, with getting people to tell stories with physical movements and getting them to highlight how the physical is used as a tool of communication. Just movements, no verbal at all. At the same time, you put in emotion. So you let the physical and the emotion to tell the story. It’s like watching a movie with the sound off because just by the physicality of it, you should be able to sense how the person is feeling from what their body is doing
For people who are doing the workshop, it’s primarily to learn. To broaden their horizons and to hone their skills. A lot of people go to drama school, and they end up working and some of their skills fall to the wayside. The workshops are to inspire newcomers or amateurs and instruct them. And for others, it’s to remember the skills they have and help them focus on what they need to improve.
Indians seem to be hungrier for the theatre and for the knowledge. For people who have so little, as in no time, no room, no rehearsal spaces, there is an absolute hunger and a drive to create. If I do a workshop here, when it ends, 10 people will want to get a coffee with you and talk to you over the next hour about what you’ve just done. I prefer the Indian way, because they want to learn and therefore I want to teach them. They’re a lot more willing to put themselves out there. The work ethic matters too. I’ve had to kick a couple of people out of workshops because they’re 15 minutes late. It’s also hard to get an honest conversation going. Everybody’s so eager to please, eager to be seen in a nice light. I really try to break down that barrier; I try to say, “It’s ok if you don’t understand.” But once the bond has been created, they’re very giving actors. They really want to do the work for you. We’re having a lot of problems of funding in Australia at the moment, because unfortunately they don’t see the value of the art.
I’m very inspired by Sam Shepard, just because so much of his stuff comes from his own life and he’s so willing to put it out there in front of you. I’m a very big Ibsen fan. I love his play ‘An Enemy of the People’. My boss, Glen Hayden inspires me too. Thespo inspires me. To make a festival out of almost nothing is amazing. Basically anybody who has a passion for art inspires me.
I‘d absolutely love to train and perform here. I really want to perform at the Prithvi Theatre. I want that on my CV. It’s a brilliant space.
- as told to Aadya Shah
For Prithvi Theatre Notes, January 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Thespo
Prithvi Theatre was the confluence of artistry during the Thespo Festival from 13th to 18th December 2011. This year, as Thespo enters adolescence, there was a lot to look forward with a grand line up of plays, theatre workshops and band performances.
The venue was buzzing with activity and animation, some chatting away at the Prithvi Café, others darting back and forth across the venue. The Thespo team, consisting mainly of under-25 young men and women has done a great job in organizing this grand festival.
4 plays were handpicked out of a whopping 95 from seven cities across India. These plays plunder relevant and current social issues such as cancer, homosexuality, suicide, pregnancy, inter caste marriage and politics, seemingly grim topics with steady, unwavering smiles.
The Marathi plays were thoroughly enjoyable, harmonizing the serious with the comical, often involving making a decision that ends up being life altering.
‘Patient’ is a young man’s struggle against cancer during the 1970’s, a time when medical science hadn’t made much progress. The performance was ensconced with subtle yet powerful theatrics. As the young lead struggles to cope with the disease. A powerful performance and a powerful play.
December 15th saw the performance of ‘Ek Don Adich’ directed by Aniket Patil. Everybod’s got problems. Especially the young man who struggles to commit suicide at Koparkhairane platform in the dead of the night. Having missed his train to his heavenly abode through a series of interruptions, his frustration and anger is our source of mirth.
A blind man stumbles onto the platform, and consequently opens up his eyes to reason, resonating the play’s anthem ‘Any two incidents are co-related to each other’.
A deliberative play that scrutinizes chance vs. fate, coincidences vs. scripted destiny and slants a bit towards existentialist aspects, it’s definitely worth a watch.
‘Janhit Mein Jaari’ directed by Abhishek Dave and Chinmay R Kulkarni is a not mundane by any angle. It touches upon a miasma of social issues such as inter caste marriage, pregnancy, safe sex, politics and women’s rights which plays up the humour throughout the story.
21 year old Dilip discovers that his girlfriend 19 year old Mandakini, is pregnant. Dilip’s father in law, Patil, is a man with a political background advocates inter-caste marriages in the village. We observe how Dilip scrambles to save himself from this dire situation and how Patil tries to exploit Dilip for political profits. A charming little ditty, with a colorful cast of characters, it’s simultaneously enjoyable and very educational. The intermittent song and dance routines give a charming rustic feel to the play. The performances from all the actors was filled with gusto and…
The Thespo 13 Awards Night saw ‘Patient’ walk away with the awards for Outstanding Play, Production Design and Director. ‘Ek Don Adich’ grabbed the ‘New Writing’ award. ‘Patient’ and ‘Janhit Mein Jaari’ both tied for the ‘Outstanding Actor in a Supporting Role’ with Siddharth Mahashabde and Ashish Nasalapure receiving the awards respectively.
For Prithvi Theatre Notes, January 2012:
http://www.prithvitheatre.org/uploads/pdfs/PTNotes%20January%202012_1325153219.pdf
The venue was buzzing with activity and animation, some chatting away at the Prithvi Café, others darting back and forth across the venue. The Thespo team, consisting mainly of under-25 young men and women has done a great job in organizing this grand festival.
4 plays were handpicked out of a whopping 95 from seven cities across India. These plays plunder relevant and current social issues such as cancer, homosexuality, suicide, pregnancy, inter caste marriage and politics, seemingly grim topics with steady, unwavering smiles.
The Marathi plays were thoroughly enjoyable, harmonizing the serious with the comical, often involving making a decision that ends up being life altering.
‘Patient’ is a young man’s struggle against cancer during the 1970’s, a time when medical science hadn’t made much progress. The performance was ensconced with subtle yet powerful theatrics. As the young lead struggles to cope with the disease. A powerful performance and a powerful play.
December 15th saw the performance of ‘Ek Don Adich’ directed by Aniket Patil. Everybod’s got problems. Especially the young man who struggles to commit suicide at Koparkhairane platform in the dead of the night. Having missed his train to his heavenly abode through a series of interruptions, his frustration and anger is our source of mirth.
A blind man stumbles onto the platform, and consequently opens up his eyes to reason, resonating the play’s anthem ‘Any two incidents are co-related to each other’.
A deliberative play that scrutinizes chance vs. fate, coincidences vs. scripted destiny and slants a bit towards existentialist aspects, it’s definitely worth a watch.
‘Janhit Mein Jaari’ directed by Abhishek Dave and Chinmay R Kulkarni is a not mundane by any angle. It touches upon a miasma of social issues such as inter caste marriage, pregnancy, safe sex, politics and women’s rights which plays up the humour throughout the story.
21 year old Dilip discovers that his girlfriend 19 year old Mandakini, is pregnant. Dilip’s father in law, Patil, is a man with a political background advocates inter-caste marriages in the village. We observe how Dilip scrambles to save himself from this dire situation and how Patil tries to exploit Dilip for political profits. A charming little ditty, with a colorful cast of characters, it’s simultaneously enjoyable and very educational. The intermittent song and dance routines give a charming rustic feel to the play. The performances from all the actors was filled with gusto and…
The Thespo 13 Awards Night saw ‘Patient’ walk away with the awards for Outstanding Play, Production Design and Director. ‘Ek Don Adich’ grabbed the ‘New Writing’ award. ‘Patient’ and ‘Janhit Mein Jaari’ both tied for the ‘Outstanding Actor in a Supporting Role’ with Siddharth Mahashabde and Ashish Nasalapure receiving the awards respectively.
For Prithvi Theatre Notes, January 2012:
http://www.prithvitheatre.org/uploads/pdfs/PTNotes%20January%202012_1325153219.pdf
Film Reviews: 'Last Year in Marienbad' and 'Muriel'
Alain Resnais is one of the elements of the Rive Gauche or Left Bank which is associated with the French New Wave. The topography of his films is lined with habitual themes like memory, forgetfulness, nostalgia, illusion and a pre-occupation with the past.
His unconventional mode of filmmaking can be seen as simultaneously ingenious and irritating. The subject matter, on more than one occasion, never fails to baffle, perplex, confound and bewilder. He clearly isn’t a stickler for rules, with unpredictability in terms of story and editing being his strong suit. Two of his films, ‘Last Year in Marienbad’ and ‘Muriel or The Time of Return’ were both screened at Prithvi Theatre.
In a magisterial resort chateau at an undisclosed location, a man (Giorgio Albertazzi) and a woman (Delphine Seyrig) meet. The man is convinced that he’s met a woman the previous year, fallen in love with her and made plans to run away with her. The woman claims that they’ve never met and that she doesn’t remember any of it. A third man (Sacha Pitoëff), presumably the woman’s husband, is also makes his presence felt
So really, is he telling the truth? Or is she simply denying the affair? And is any of it real at all? Amidst a hazy storyline, we’re not given any concrete evidence to work with, all the while wondering along with the protagonists, what is real and what isn’t.
The man’s voiceover narration is in past tense as the scene unfurls before us in the present. Scenes leap from the present to the supposed past and back, staccato-like yet not without a lyrical quality. It’s successful in suggesting the disconnection and abstraction that pervade the people and the drowsy atmosphere in the film.
The camera work of Sacha Vierney is lustrous as it swimmingly sweeps down in black and white, with long tracking shots.
Majority of the film is blanketed by the plangent expanse of organs, the kind of dramatic music that works very well with a horror movie.
Having aged over forty years, the film that was once heralded as stupefying is now bordering on unfathomable and frustrating. And is this film simply a study in style and mastering the fine art of being ambiguous or a rendition of art way ahead of its time that’s simply aged?
‘Muriel or the Time of Return’ revisits the theme of war, after his Resnais’ first film, ‘Hiroshima, Mon Amour’.
We’re introduced to Helene (Delphine Seyrig), a middle-aged widow and antique saleswoman and her step- son Bernard (Jean-Baptiste Thiérrée) who live in the town of Boulogne-sur-Mer. Helene runs into her old love Alphonse (Jean-Pierre Kérien). As Helene is haunted by past experience with Alphonse and Bernard is haunted by his experiences from the war in Algiers, where he had partaken in the event of torturing and killing a girl.
Unlike his previous two cinematic operas, cinematography by Sacha Vierney foregoes black and white for colour which somehow doesn’t have the same effect as Resnais hoped it would. The film conducts itself in a linear manner, but is just as complex and not as bewildering as Marienbad.
Architecture is manipulated to make the presence of passing time known. Time is a stentorian presence that conjoins Marienbad and Muriel. In the former, there doesn’t seem to be a well-defined sense of time or place, whereas in the latter it is the opposite. However in Muriel, a personal love story between two people is juxtaposed against the effects of the repugnancy of war. It seems to inquire how a person can finally seek closure and move on from the past. The film also helped shed light on the Algerian War of Independence.
Dealing with recurring themes and motifs, you can say that he makes the same film over and over again. In a world where movies are told in a linear narrative, and have some amount of predictability, Resnais’ films may seem slightly corroded and weary to watch, yet undoubtedly each one has its subtle nuances, tones and artistic execution that make them memorable.
For Prithvi Theatre Notes, December 2011 :
http://www.prithvitheatre.org/uploads/pdfs/PTNotes_December_201_1322204635.pdf
His unconventional mode of filmmaking can be seen as simultaneously ingenious and irritating. The subject matter, on more than one occasion, never fails to baffle, perplex, confound and bewilder. He clearly isn’t a stickler for rules, with unpredictability in terms of story and editing being his strong suit. Two of his films, ‘Last Year in Marienbad’ and ‘Muriel or The Time of Return’ were both screened at Prithvi Theatre.
In a magisterial resort chateau at an undisclosed location, a man (Giorgio Albertazzi) and a woman (Delphine Seyrig) meet. The man is convinced that he’s met a woman the previous year, fallen in love with her and made plans to run away with her. The woman claims that they’ve never met and that she doesn’t remember any of it. A third man (Sacha Pitoëff), presumably the woman’s husband, is also makes his presence felt
So really, is he telling the truth? Or is she simply denying the affair? And is any of it real at all? Amidst a hazy storyline, we’re not given any concrete evidence to work with, all the while wondering along with the protagonists, what is real and what isn’t.
The man’s voiceover narration is in past tense as the scene unfurls before us in the present. Scenes leap from the present to the supposed past and back, staccato-like yet not without a lyrical quality. It’s successful in suggesting the disconnection and abstraction that pervade the people and the drowsy atmosphere in the film.
The camera work of Sacha Vierney is lustrous as it swimmingly sweeps down in black and white, with long tracking shots.
Majority of the film is blanketed by the plangent expanse of organs, the kind of dramatic music that works very well with a horror movie.
Having aged over forty years, the film that was once heralded as stupefying is now bordering on unfathomable and frustrating. And is this film simply a study in style and mastering the fine art of being ambiguous or a rendition of art way ahead of its time that’s simply aged?
‘Muriel or the Time of Return’ revisits the theme of war, after his Resnais’ first film, ‘Hiroshima, Mon Amour’.
We’re introduced to Helene (Delphine Seyrig), a middle-aged widow and antique saleswoman and her step- son Bernard (Jean-Baptiste Thiérrée) who live in the town of Boulogne-sur-Mer. Helene runs into her old love Alphonse (Jean-Pierre Kérien). As Helene is haunted by past experience with Alphonse and Bernard is haunted by his experiences from the war in Algiers, where he had partaken in the event of torturing and killing a girl.
Unlike his previous two cinematic operas, cinematography by Sacha Vierney foregoes black and white for colour which somehow doesn’t have the same effect as Resnais hoped it would. The film conducts itself in a linear manner, but is just as complex and not as bewildering as Marienbad.
Architecture is manipulated to make the presence of passing time known. Time is a stentorian presence that conjoins Marienbad and Muriel. In the former, there doesn’t seem to be a well-defined sense of time or place, whereas in the latter it is the opposite. However in Muriel, a personal love story between two people is juxtaposed against the effects of the repugnancy of war. It seems to inquire how a person can finally seek closure and move on from the past. The film also helped shed light on the Algerian War of Independence.
Dealing with recurring themes and motifs, you can say that he makes the same film over and over again. In a world where movies are told in a linear narrative, and have some amount of predictability, Resnais’ films may seem slightly corroded and weary to watch, yet undoubtedly each one has its subtle nuances, tones and artistic execution that make them memorable.
For Prithvi Theatre Notes, December 2011 :
http://www.prithvitheatre.org/uploads/pdfs/PTNotes_December_201_1322204635.pdf
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Heaps of Talent
It was with abundant ebullience that Imogen Heap took the stage at Blue Frog on 24th November.
She’s a very British and more electronically inclined Bjork who still manages to create an identity very much her own. Armed with a gossamer voice, three microphones including two on her wrists, a percussionist, a cellist and a battalion of instruments, she’s clearly the conductor and musician of her own orchestra, a one woman band of sorts. Certain elements in certain parts of her songs seem to recall the ethereal feel of Sigur Ros. Her usual delightful and quirky self, she infuses her set with loads of humor and charm. Known for her use of technology and innovative stagecraft, Heap's performance is a good example of live looping, a practice thats becoming increasingly frequent in music these days.
The stage definitely had a one-of-a-kind set up with Immi, the transparent piano, sitting bang in the centre of things.
Ashwin Srinivasan, the flutist, performed the opening set. It was definitely interesting but I quickly got impatient with his six song set. It would have been a lot more exciting if he was backed by a full fledged band. Rather, his flute proved a potent and subtle counterpoint on many of Heap’s songs.
The landscape of Heap's music is furnished with mellifluent and slightly odd ornamentations. For instance, her opening number ‘Walk’ sees her waving a washing machine tube in the air, creating a thunderous sound.
As she struck up the opening riff from the second song, the tweeful and upbeat ‘Goodnight and Go’, which happens to be one of my favorites, the crowd went hysterical. On starting the song, she began singing the second verse, laughed it off and started the song again, something that added to the song’s charm.
Ensuing songs included ‘Speeding Cars’, ‘Between Sheets’, ‘Canvas’ and ‘The Moment I Said It’ which were all good, emotionally charged sonic endeavors, especially ‘Between Sheets’ , a love song.
What’s special about her set is that instead of ploughing through song after song, a practice that can get increasingly noisy and claustrophobic, she outlined incidents that inspired songs, kept up a continuous dialogue with the audience including dividing the audience three ways for a three part harmony spot on ‘Just For Now’.
She proceeded to us about the origins of her song ‘First Train Home’. About three wine glasses were brought out after that, from which the emanating sounds were briskly recorded and looped along with the drums and the array mbira, and served as the plinth for her song, ‘First Train Home’.
A rare performance of ‘Breathe In’, her song with Frou Frou was lovely.
Her studio output may sound great but watching her mix, layer, loop, and oscillate her way through different instruments and vocal punctuations, sets her apart from other musicians.
She then debuted her Magical Music Gloves, a pair of black gloves with lights, which when moved a certain way, immediately recorded, looped and added effects, without her flitting from one end of the stage to another, an incredibly ‘hands-on’ approach to music leaving us ordinary mortals in awe. ‘Let Go’, another Frou Frou hit, was next on the list.
This was followed by a lovely rendition of ‘Tidal’, a song that starts out nonchalantly and progressively builds up and ends with her playing guitar on her keytar.
The penultimate piece was the goosebump-evoking, minimilistic ‘Hide and Seek’ consisted of her voice being vocoded to create harmonies.
The set’s denouement featured ‘Minds Without Fear’ a collaboration with Vishal-Shekhar on vocals and Karsh Kale on tabla, inspired by Rabindranath Tagore’s poem, a song whose composition was documented on the show ‘The Dewarists’.
Indian musical talent is still evolving, especially with the birth of shows like Coke Studio and The Dewarists doing their bit to inspire. However, after watching Imogen Heap’s theatrical performance, Indian urban musicians have still got a long way to go.
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