Its maiden appearance was on the eclectic platform of the Kala
Ghoda Festival in 2015. Since then it has found more innovative, more intimate
spaces to create this medley of poetry and theater. The one I witnessed this
time was in the lofty mezzanine floor of The Barking Deer in the restaurant maze
of the Mathuradas Mill Compound in Lower Parel. The space is important for it
is the physical proximity between the actors and the audience, the blurred
lines between back stage and the performance redefines the experience called
theater. The audience is as engaged as possible, the actors and their art as
authentic as it gets.
Adil Jusawalla, Arundhati Subramaniam, Nissim Ezekiel, Imtiaz
Dharker…the quintessential coterie of Mumbai poets writing in English have been
fueled with meaning and movement through the theatrical recreation of strong
poems like “Love”, “Battle-line” and “Love in a Bathtub”. The interspersing of
one poem with another establishes the fluidity and openness of poetry itself.
While the man and woman stand deconstructing the delusional contours of
marriage, a third actor slips in and out of the space between the two. There is
a visual metaphor for the oscillating trap and freedom couples experience,
captured ever so gently and non-violently.
After the heterosexual love, it is feminism and conformity that
takes center stage. What is interesting is that these social constructs are not
rendered gravely but rather with a tinge of humor and playfulness. The “Advice
to a Four-Year Old on the First Day of School” poem adopts a cute mime-like
quality while Sapan Saran’s “Bra” performed by the poet herself is hard-hitting
and yet induces humor through its hyperbolic sarcasm.
The highlight of the act however lies in the native Marathi poems “Dukanwalle
Dada” by Wama Dada Kardak and “Mansaane” by Namdeo Dhasar and its impeccable
translation by Dilip Chitre by the title “Man You Should Explode”. It is here
that we glimpse into the theatrical vision of director Sunil Shanbaug (and
co-designed by Saran). The performances of these two poems are juxtaposed simultaneously.
The rhythm of the Marathi words almost magically sync in with their English
counterparts creating a lyricism on stage otherwise only experienced between
the pages of poetry. The underlying message of social criticism finds a resounding
rhetoric. The music does not draw attention to itself but integrates strategically
at poignant moments in the narration.
The essence of Blank Page
lies in its beginning when the creativity poems are played out with an
exemplary collage of music, dance and theatrical movement. A. K. Ramanujam’s “Poem”,
a translation of Pratibha Nandkumar’s original Malayalam piece adds a playful
sprightful flavor. Kedarnath Singh’s “Sada
Panna” sets the stage for a reflective piece of theater that provokes questions
about creation, meaning and life. Art has seldom gone meta with this depth and
intensity on the Mumbai stage.
Emotions and issues, terse and transitory…Blank Page is an endearing attempt to fuse forms and create
something unique and invigorating.
