A story told well
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Without an overdose of theatre dynamics, Chandrahasa was attractive for its lucid narrative
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REFRESHING Despite most actors in the play being debutantes, their performance was fairly professional
Experiments of a period get passed on as traditions into another period. This probably could be said of B.V. Karanth's theatre experiments too. The manner in which he revolutionised theatre music, the inventive use of human voice, colour and festivity that was central to his productions, were probably novel for his own period, but over the years has come to exist amidst us as system of theatre; with agreements and disagreements. This was best demonstrated in Benaka's production of Chandrahasa, which was a tribute to B.V. Karanth.
Kuvempu's play Chandrahasa (an episode in the Bhagavatha Purana, later picked up by the poet Lakshmisha), is the story of a six-toed abandoned prince, who grows up as nature's child. Chandrahasa is an epitome of implicit faith and elegance. His commitment towards his community makes him the natural choice for the position of the King, as against the evil ruler Dushtabuddhi, who becomes the victim of his own iniquitous ways.
Benaka's production of this play came as a refresher. Particularly in these times when the theatregoer is bombarded with either over-intellectualisation or banalisation, marking significant trends of recent times. With a penchant for post-modern readings, more often than not, the audience even loses sight of the story. It's a relief that Benaka's Chandrahasa was a story well-told, giving the audience ample room to embark on their journeys and to find new meanings.
The pre-dominant feature of any B.V. Karanth play is its unmistakable brand of music; at once so soothing and so ingenious. The unexpected flights, so tempered and so gentle; the sparkling chord progressions, both dissonant and harmonious; and of course the unmistakable use of percussion (Karanth doesn't even spare a coconut shell); was an elevating experience.
Language can be a major impediment in Kuvempu's plays. But Pramod Shiggaon, the young director with quite a number of creditable plays to his name, shifts intelligently between Kuvempu's stylised Kannada and colloquial Kannada — as language of the royalty and that of the masses respectively. Master of imagery that Kuvempu is, there are some brilliantly evocative lines in the play. If you listened carefully, you could even catch the playwright-commentator's voice. Slayers hired by the evil king chop off Chandrahasa's sixth toe. Badly wounded, he sits in the forest weeping. A hunter who spots Chandrahasa is immensely moved by his plight. He even sheds tears. At this point, the playwright says: "Isn't it a matter of great astonishment that a hunter can be moved by the sight of blood?"
Despite most actors in the play being debutantes, their performance was fairly professional. In fact, Satya who played Dushtabuddhi was outstanding. The poised Niranjana Krishna who played Chandrahasa worked well as contrast to the perpetually agitated, evil King. Raghavendra on the percussion needs special mention. He moved from one instrument to the other (he sat before an unbelievably huge spread) with ιlan and always managed to be on cue. Except for lighting that faltered at times, and the second half a little too long, the play did well.
DEEPA GANESH
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Friday Review
Bangalore
Chennai and Tamil Nadu
Delhi
Hyderabad
Thiruvananthapuram
