Santoshpur Anuchintan’s In Search of Goddess Sitala (Debi Sitalar Sandhane, as the play has been now renamed) (picture, left) draws upon traditional theatre histories, subaltern mythologies, and an interdisciplinary sensibility to emerge as a striking intervention in contemporary Bengali theatre. Gaurav Das’s directorial vision, presented at Tapan Theatre as part of Aneek’s Ganga Jamuna Natya Utsav recently, is a bold and provocative enquiry into the politics of gender fluidity, identity, faith, love and loss, all of which are examined in their social context.
Rooted in the fading tradition of female impersonation in jatra, the production places Sitala, the fearful goddess invoked as a protector against the ravages of smallpox, at its nucleus. It draws upon research into the life of the legendary actor, Chapal Bhaduri, famed for his performances as Sitala, and others like him, to probe the spectrum of gender, inspecting its many intersections with nuance, sensitivity and brutal realism. The tragic love story of Sitala pala performers, Nimai and Jagadish, is rendered with great tenderness and empathy.
The production’s non-linear dramaturgy, enhanced by projected visuals, devises a layered language that is immersive and charged. The work is complex, allowing many varied textures to come together in a compelling reflection on the performance of gender and the dangers it is fraught with. It also incorporates songs, dance, devotion and the haunting embodiment of ritual possession that blurs the line between theatre and worship.
Although enough prior warnings about nudity, sexuality, violence and abuse are issued, you are not prepared for the explicitness, inhumanity and viciousness on stage. Profoundly disturbing, the work offers the kind of pain that demands to be urgently witnessed and understood. Training in and adopting the over-the-top jatra acting style, the actors rise admirably to the claims of the production, delivering performances of remarkable intensity. The play has such a troubling hold on the mind that you couldn’t possibly emerge from this encounter unscarred.
Uttaron, presented on the Eastern Terrace of Victoria Memorial Hall to mark International Women’s Day, set out as an ensemble weaving together dance, music, recitation, narration and live painting. Drawing on the symbolic experiences of four archetypal figures — Eve, Radha, Sita, and the motherland — it brought to the fore performers like the singer, Nupurchhanda Ghosh, the dancer, Urmila Bhaumik, and the recitation artiste, Urmimala Bose.
For all its visual grandeur and the undeniable charm of a pleasant spring evening at an iconic location, the production faltered in negotiating scale. The expanse diminished its movement artistes. From the audience’s vantage, the dancers dissolved into inconspicuousness, their movements — repetitive and uninspired in the first place — registered only faintly. The dance became incidental, an aesthetic appendage that the production could scarcely justify. The singing, musical arrangement, narration, and recitation, however, stood out.
A Thang-ta presentation, hosted by the organisation, Art and Artiste 4U, was the culmination of a workshop under Imocha Singh (picture, right). It offered a glimpse into the discipline of this Manipuri martial tradition. The students’ performance reflected varying degrees of technical assimilation and negotiation, and the effort demonstrated the rigour embedded in the vocabulary of the form.
Singh, a consummate exponent of the form, led the presentation compellingly. In the intimacy of the Odissi Vision and Movement Centre’s space, his command over line, balance, and breath and the economy of movement and dynamism were awe-inspiring.