Ravindra Kalakshetra, which was the epicentre of cultural activities for several decades, has been throwing up problems for a couple of years now. Theatre groups particularly, which depended heavily on the auditorium, have faced the surmounting problems in the auditorium. Sound system is pathetic. Lighting unit is outdated. Seats worn out. Yet, they soldiered on, for the love of theatre. A couple of years ago, the auditorium was closed for a long period for alterations, now it’s closed again since the last five months.
So, what do we do? Shift to Samsa Bayalu Rangamandira, which is not the grand space of Ravindra Kalakshetra, but it’s still the backyard. It can still be a space for theatre, despite a hundred difficulties. To recall a recent incident: a few days ago, braving threatening skies a committed audience turned up at Samsa for a theatre festival. The rain gods showed no mercy on the play that was to begin in a few minutes, and the audience were crammed into the green room, rubbing shoulders with actors. Time was breezing past, the downpour didn’t abate, finally, the play took place in the muggy lobby of Ravindra Kalakshetra.
“Samsa is not even a theatre space,” argues director Manjunath Badiger. “It has become a theatre venue only because Ravindra Kalakshetra is unavailable.” Badiger, whose award-winning play Chitrapata , which was recently staged at Samsa, believes that it is not ideally suited for most plays. He insists that most theatre groups agree to stage their plays there because there is no other viable alternative.
The scene now cuts to Gubbi Veeranna Rangamandira in Gandhinagar. What used to be a thriving space for Kannada company theatre is now caked in layers of dust and cobwebs. Closed for about three years now, currently, the seating area is being done up. “End of April it will be ready,” says the man at the venue. Looking like a miniature scene of a war, one wonders which April the man was actually referring to.
Conversely, the Rajkumar Kalakshetra in Rajajinagar is in a different kind of conundrum. It was also closed for repairs but was re-opened to the public three months ago. Situated right in the middle of the bustling RTO, it hardly has takers. The stage is mostly used for school annual day events and yoga demonstrations. Officials feel that not many people know that the space has been reopened and hence do not frequent it. But is it a theatre space where a play can actually be staged? That’s the question we leave the place with.
As we set out on a serious survey of theatre spaces in Bangalore, we realised that there are hardly any auditoriums that match the vibrant theatre scene. They are either in poor condition, or they have been designed badly, or most of them are in control of BBMP and interested groups can hardly get access to it etc etc. Of all the theatres that are there, Rangashankara and KH Kalasoudha seem like the only two spaces that seem to have taken their job seriously. Most theatre groups often complain that while there is much talk about “Broadway theatre”, HN Kalakshetra in National College, Jayanagar is a thorough waste of the huge space that it boasts of. “It feels like one is watching a play sitting in a pit. So you miss out on the stage design completely. Also, the sound system and lighting is totally outdated. But what to do, good or bad, at times one is compelled to use it,” says an actor.
P.D. Satishchandra who runs K.H. Kalasoudha in Hanumanthnagar agrees that the auditoriums in the city are in terrible condition. “Originally, we wanted Kalasoudha to be a dedicated space for theatre, but then realised that the other performing arts are as badly hit as theatre. Since our commitment is to theatre which is a complete art form with dance and music, we decided to keep low rents for plays. We charge Rs. 3,000 on weekdays and Rs. 5,000 during weekends. For others, it is Rs. 10,000 for three hours,” explains Satishchandra, who says 25 plays are performed in Kalasoudha every month which constitutes more than 80 percent of their booking. “At least ten of these are performances by new troupes formed by youngsters. It is very encouraging,” he says.
Townhall recently had a grand inauguration, but is still not open to public. It was closed in July last to give it a complete makeover, but the sound and light part of it still remain undone. Says Girish Shetty, AEE, who is in-charge of Townhall renovation: “We have to import sound and lighting systems. Money has to be released for the same. Once that is done, it will not take too much time.” The story of Ravindra Kalakshetra, also caught in bureaucratic quagmire, sounds almost similar. “We called for tenders for sound and lighting. We finalised on one of them. But now members are objecting to it. Since we are caught in this confusion, no decision has been taken yet. Civil work is done however,” says K.A. Dayanand, director of Kannada and Culture. So when is it likely to be up on its feet? “Not sure about it. If this situation doesn’t get resolved, we have to call for tenders again.”
A.V. Varadachar Memorial is a horror. Lorries are parked in the compound, huge piles of rubble greet you as you walk to this place which is at a stone’s throw from the shining Mantri Square in Malleswaram. “Varadachar was a great actor. That place, set up in his name, has become a godown!” says Vimala Rangachar, chairperson of Karnataka Crafts Council. “To put up a good space, one has to understand the science behind it. While a space can work for both dance and music, it may not work for theatre as it has its own specific requirements,” she says. Also, Seva Sadan in Malleswaram, founded by Rangachar, was originally envisioned for music and dance. It does lend its auditorium for plays – mostly the modest socials of Parvatvani, Kailsam and others. “Every locality should have two or three different kinds of auditoriums. Government should take a survey of theatre and its relationship with the different localities in the city and come up with a plan to set up halls. If not construct halls themselves, they should at least subsidise the cost for those willing to set them up,” she contends.
While Chowdiah, which is also in Malleswaram, is well preserved, its frightening rental costs, leaves it completely out of the ambit of Kannada theatre. Jagriti, which is also a good theatre space, remains strongly a locality auditorium because of its huge distance from the city.
Rangashankara, in its 11th year now, has become synonymous with theatre in the recent times. “Our space is wholly dedicated to theatre. We are not a huge space like Chowdiah or Ambedkar Bhavan. Those kind of spaces are unrealistic for the theatre we believe in. Ours is theatre for the ‘joy of performance’ so more shows for less people with modest rent is a fantastic model for us,” explains Arundhati Nag, the brain behind Rangashankara. “A particular type of people come and stage shows at Rangashankara and they are mostly the amateur groups.”
As a theatre person she does feel indignant about the state of auditoriums in the city. “It is callousness of the government. The auditoriums are as good as the people in it. In this time and age, there’s no reason to have bad lighting and sound! The government should not compromise on running these little things. It should instead hand it over to a team which has the highest integrity and ask for deliverables. I never ran a theatre before Rangashankara, but it is truly replicable!” she argues rightly. Every year Rangashankara closes for five days for annual maintenance and has so far, staged over 4000 performances. “The problem is once you get a government job, it is not even a job anymore. It is only security. People who love performing arts should be made in-charge of these spaces.”
The sign of a good society is the state of its culture, says Satish Chandra. “It is our responsibility to keep these spaces in good health and thereby foster the arts.”
