SECOND LIFE
Eloquence on stone
ANJANA RAJAN
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Director and writer Gopal Sharman has a another vocation: that of a sculptor and carver.
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Photo: Rajeev Bhatt
Evolving his own motifs: Gopal Sharman at work.
When theatre people speak of workshops, they usually mean the kind where a group of enthusiasts learn or share theatre skills. When eminent director and writer Gopal Sharman mentions his workshop, it would be best to clarify which one he’s refe
rring to.
Because he may just just be talking about the shed on the grounds of Akshara theatre — his home and karmabhumi — where he creates beautiful stone sculptures and reliefs; or to his woodwork outfit where he designs the theatre props and much of the furniture for Akshara.
To say that Sharman has built Akshara is not a turn of the phrase. He has made the wall carvings, the little auditorium and stage — much of the building, save the actual walls.
The discovery of Sharman’s skill with craft begins with the long table in the vestibule of Akshara. It is an entire tree trunk sliced lengthwise and placed end to end, the grains matching aesthetically.
No wonder he comments, “The skill of using my hands I take for granted. But it is also the skill of seeing the nature of the material.”
Early fascinations
Sharman grew up in Lucknow and always loved wood. On his way to and from school, he also passed an iron smithy.
“I was fascinated,” he recalls. Today at his metal workshop he fashions the lights for his theatre, confident that his are better than any available in the market. But, when he talks of wood, he sounds mystical.
“You’re dealing with something that’s manifest outside you. You begin to love that wood. You see its grains, its beauty and you say I have to respect it and if I’m making something I’ll never cut it against the grain. Furthermore, having cut it, don’t insult it by making something ugly. Don’t just arbitrarily put two pieces of wood together.”
One of his triumphs in wood is the property from his most famous production “The Ramayana” that travels the world. The seat with two tusks projecting from the back is Ravana’s throne, till its back is changed and it becomes the throne of Ayodhya. Then again, without the back, it is a simple seat in a forest hermitage, and with a spear attached it is a seat in the war council scene. The whole fits into a suitcase.
“The stonework I started very late,” he recounts. “When the building was finished it needed a façade.” Italian marble and other expensive materials were suggested. But, notes Sharman, Lutyens had access to unlimited funds yet he used only Indian materials. So Sharman decided on Dhaulpur stone and wood. “You’ll see there’s not a drop of paint,” he explains.
Pointing to the mounted stone reliefs and the half-finished ones lined up in the sun near the lawns, he says, “In these I’ve evolved my own motifs out of the traditional Indian motifs like aam patta (paisley).”
Finishing touches
When Akshara was being given finishing touches, Sharman found the master craftsman in himself, but the actor was never far. When people asked the dust-covered workman where to find Gopal Sharman, he would point to his wife and say, “Ask Memsahib.”
His friend, architect Joseph Stein, came and watched for hours. When Sharman wondered at his continued interest, Stein told him, “If I hear good music, I never get tired of it. This is like music to me.” Let the music play on.
This column features the little-known aspects of personalities.
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