Performing at Rajajipuram

Val and I had to be quite disciplined in our approach to the performances to come; or more accurately, we had to do our best that we were disciplined with the cast.  When they arrived at the auditorium, we were already there, and called for them to assemble in the auditorium, and rather than allow them to roam backstage, no doubt becoming very excited as a result, Val took them on a conducted tour of backstage, in two halves to create a manageable number – first the girls, then the boys.

There were adjustments to be made from the performances at Gomti Nagar.  I had been assured that the two auditoria were identical, or as near to as made no difference, or that the changes were entirely beneficial, such as the improvement in the quality of the lighting.  But as had already been discovered, what seemed at first appearance to be an improvement, turned out to be far from the case.  In fact, the lighting continued to be hugely problematic, to the extent that in the end we pretty much had to be resigned to a pure white wash, with just the specials – on the tree, the hole in the ground, and the creation of the birdcage – still working.  There was a lot more room backstage, which generally proved a boon, and the two side entrances, which were in different places, did not make any significant difference.

Once that was done, I hoped to do some more rehearsing.  Normally, once a production is up and running, I tend to leave it as it is, with the performance itself sufficient to iron out any wrinkles.  But they had made a horrible mess of the final scene in the first act – the end of the race between Tortoise and Hare – in both performances, so that had to be ironed out, first w2ith sorting out the words, but then, even more so, with the switch between the two parallel scenes: the race occurring at the same time as Lion stalking Stag.  I had had other scenes too that I wanted to do some work on, but that took so long, (even Kingfi9sher was questioning how much time we had left to get ready), that there was no time for anything else, let alone anything like a warm-up.

The performance itself went much better: entrances sharper, words clearer (the acoustics in the auditorium were also much improved).  But the audience reaction was nothing like as good.  As I pointed out to the cast, they were playing away, so would not have anything like the same natural support from their teachers and parents.  And Indian audiences do have a disinclination to laugh, which is a serious drawback with a comedy.  Partly because they do seem to prefer tragedy – I am very much a comedy man when it comes to Shakespeare (and anything else), while the common expressed preference is for Macbeth, Julius Caesar and Othello.  And partly because they are wary of causing offence; when Geeta led the laughing, everyone else was given licence to laugh too.

But at the end of the performance, the audience very much enjoyed the same joke I had used with Geeta.  I was invited onto stage while Nisha made some overall comments about the project and the production; highly complimentary, of course.  And then she made the same comment Geeta had done, expressing the hope that I would return.  At which point I rubbed my thimb against my first fingers, suggesting money might be required.  Which everyone, Nisha included, found very funny.

Actually, like all good jokes, it had a touch of truth in it.  It would indeed take  money to tempt me  back, though not in the way they all think.  I would return in a heartbeat if they started to build drama studios that I could teach in, since I would want to reward that initiative.  And if they wanted me to return to do a full production, that would mean a theatre.  We shall see.