A passion for the stage

Eminent artistes are the lifeblood of the team

The more I talked to experts, the more awed I became at how untouched this industry was since the British era when drama groups were built around passionate groups of actors and writers. During that time, different drama teams flourished under the patronage of the wealthy individuals. Ticket sales, even for the same plays, depended upon which group was staging it. And drama groups still are driven more by 'passion' than by 'lucrative contracts'.

The stage actors like to call themselves 'professional amateurs'. Most commonly, stalwarts who attract the talents around them form groups. Even though they belong to groups and are the lifeblood of the team, founders and new entrants alike become members on an honorary basis.

Every production needs a rigorous six-to-nine months of preparation. The actors are informed well ahead about rehearsal-dates through a notice, put on the walls of the rented rehearsal rooms. Over a cup of tea and favourite snacks of shingara, the actors take part in rigorous rehearsals and script reading day in day out for three months in a row. As an actor smilingly pointed out, '..its not true that we are unpaid professionals……we simply accept snacks in place of money'.

Then the director, designers and the technicians step in to outline the stage settings. Allocating the characters to actors requires a lot of neutrality (and diplomacy) on the part of the director. 'Like the old days, it is often subject to bias,' says a theatre activist. Then begins the rehearsal for blocking.

Typically it takes about three months for the team to memorise the script. But sometimes its takes significantly longer. After the successful staging of Hath Hodai, Shahiduzzaman Selim mentioned how it took their team nearly nine months to master the Noakhali dialect before they could finally stage the play.

During the long months of rehearsals, beginners have a time-bound traditional role to play. During the first 2 years, they are in charge of the kitchen, making sure the tea and shingaras keep flowing and keeping up the spirits of the team! Not unlike an internship, the beginners learn the many arts of acting through these informal interactions with the senior actors. During this entire period, neither intern nor actors are paid.

What struck me was how the drama groups keep up with their passion despite the odds stacked against them.

Firstly, they are assured of no livelihood. The theatre groups thrive on sales proceeds from stage performances and a limited number of sponsors. 'A standard production can cost up to Taka 80,000 or more, while a minimum costs Taka 60,000. The groups often have to stage the play for two to three years to recoup the production cost', said Nasiruddin Yousuff.

In contrast, in West Bengal the Ministry allots Rupees 3,000 per head for the theatre activists, which translates to Rupees 60,000 per month to theatre groups of 20 actors each. Since there are several theatre houses, the groups can perform 'call shows' year round and also see acting as a livelihood.

Secondly, despite its popularity, there is an incredible shortage of theatre space. Before the Experimental Theatre Stage was inaugurated, there was only one theatre stage, The Mahila Samity Mancha; the Guide House auditorium was closed years before. Since there are altogether 35-40 groups in the city alone, including the top ten groups, comprising 5000 members, each group is allowed to perform at most once a month at the auditorium. According to Liaquat Ali Lucky, General Secretary of Bangladesh Group Theatre Federation (BGTF), the City Corporation can rent the community centres in different localities to overcome this bottleneck.

Thirdly, there is an unexplained lack of recognition for the stage actors. Every year, we are bombarded with so many glamorous 'award giving ceremonies' to reward silver screen actors, models, singers, TV-productions, but rarely one for stage actors.

When you take away livelihood, opportunity to perform and recognition there doesn't seem to be much left for the actors except an undying passion for their art. How we can expect to develop and nurture talent under such conditions is a complete puzzle to me. As a critic pointed out sarcastically, 'the most imminent danger to our theatre culture is, if the price of tea and shingara were to increase…' Sadly, he probably didn't realise there was more than passing humour than he intended.