Modern Bengali Drama

BY DR. P. GUHA-THAKURTA, M.A., Ph.D.

Looking over the record of the modern Bengali drama and comparing it with that of the drama of other countries, the first thing that attracts one's notice is its comparative youth. The modern type of drama virtually began in Bengal in the early part of the nineteenth century, that is to say, on the advent of the British rule. Yet, in spite of its being perhaps the youngest drama in the world, it seems spiritually among the most mature. Indeed, it already shows signs of being a little over-ripe in certain respects before it has had sufficient time fully to develop a regular stage-craft and dramatic technique. This seems to be due to the fact that the Bengali drama has had an enormous amount of valuable literary traditions and material to fall upon and to draw from, without at the same time being wholly competent to handle the modern European methods of production in a suitable manner. The incongruity is further explained when one remembers that while the Bengali playwrights were using the old native sources, it was absolutely impossible for them to do more than adapt European dramatic principles to Indian subjects.

THE BEGINNINGS

The modern Bengali drama began under very auspicious circumstances, and as it should be generally known, was profoundly affected by social and political events, not only in its own country but in other parts of the world. It is difficult to separate the history of the Bengali stage from the history of social and political changes in Bengal in the nineteenth century, but in spite of very strong foreign influences and tendencies, the Bengali drama has emerged stronger and more solid from the struggle. In the course of the last hundred and fifty years, it has not only spread far and wide but has become a genuinely national institution, emancipated from servility whether to foreign or Sanskritic traditions. The value of the Bengali drama would not in any sense be diminished, had everything that was written in the form of drama before 1800 completely perished. There is a certain feeling abroad that modern Indian literature is far less worthy of study than the older and more ancient. It may be admitted that the history of Bengali literature presents a record of rather broken and often incoherent activities and that its development is irregular, but so far as the Bengali drama is concerned, it is quite evident that it is intensely modern, in the sense that it is in close touch with the life and thought and feeling of today. By virtue of this modernity alone, it reveals that unity which binds Bengal to the outer world and makes Giris Chandra Ghose, Dvijendra Lal Roy, and Rabindranath Tagore critics and thinkers of the present generation. Whether we take the early work of Ram Narayan Tarkaratna and Madhu Sudan Dutt or the later work of Dvijendra Lal and Rabindranath, it possesses that universal subjectivity–that most persistent attempt to deal with the human mind rather than the external world. Taking it as a whole, the modern Bengali drama seems to be dominated by a more or less aesthetic and speculative attitude of mind rather than by an interest in external facts or even psychological subtleties; and this is natural enough, since Bengali life itself has been dominated for many generations by emotional reflection rather than by objective activity. This subjective approach to reality has left indelible marks on the entire body of the modern Bengali drama. We can make this point quite clear by an illustration. A considerable portion of the modern European drama deals with much that is rather trivial, petty and inconsequential, and its stage is crowded with characters whose names we forget, whose faces fade away in the endless changing panorama of human life, whose actions, if they accomplish anything at all, matter very little for the rest of the human race, and who make traps for themselves out of their own little weaknesses of character and mistakes of reckless passions. Now, this type of drama is so far entirely unknown in Bengal. It will be argued that Bengal does not present so many intricate problems of sex and morality as modern Europe. It is quite true that Bengali life could not, under the present circumstances, encourage or foster the drawing-room drama of Mr. Noel Coward or the sex-plays of M. Eugene Brieux. But if human nature in its essence is the same all over the world and if it is to be looked at from a broader point of view and interpreted by artists with real imagination, drama should be a matter of greatness and beauty rather than triviality and ugliness. It does not follow that unpleasant realities should be entirely omitted; indeed they cannot be, so long as human nature remains as it is; but they must be harmonised and brought into a synthesis of real beauty and grandeur. In a word, the drama should be the revelation of the human spirit struggling with the forces of the world. The Greeks had a tragedy which portrayed the human spirit at odds with Destiny itself, and, as Seneca has said: "A strong man matched with fortune is a sight for the gods to see". In the same manner, Bengali drama, following its spiritual traditions and speculative bent of mind, has more or less drawn on the larger rather than the smaller issues of life but with this difference, that the minor, insignificant details of life, instead of being harmonised with the larger and bigger ones, have been allowed to be altogether submerged in the glorified pictures of ideal beauty, ideal truth and ideal happiness. Even the most ultra-modern of Bengali dramatists like Dvijendra Lal and Rabindranath, have drawn from the heroic legends and romantic tales of history and mythology the situation and characters of their plays and overlooked the stories that ordinary everyday life might have furnished. And even when they have touched contemporary life, it is with such a depth of idealism and emotion that its subjective elements have completely overshadowed the objective realities. It is not so much the material of the Bengali plays as the tone and temper of the dramatists that makes the Bengali drama so subjective and naturally so one-sided. Bengali playwrights have evaded realities in pursuit of ideals, and until they come to face the facts of life squarely and present them in strict accordance with the highest moral and spiritual standards of art, their work will remain as useless as the ultra-realistic drama of modern Europe. The highest form of drama is that which brings into play beauty of form, nobility of purpose and dignity of mental outlook. These qualities cannot be awakened in human beings either by painting an ideal world of perfection or by giving a picture of merely sordid and ugly realities. The Bengali playwrights of the future need not only to keep their reflective imagination within reasonable bounds of control and precision, but need also to gain more experience and fresh stimulus to thought and action from life as it is. The plays they will then produce will not only be true and real but will make a permanent appeal to humanity and will touch the emotions as well as inspire the soul.

ART AND LIFE

The modern Bengali stage is still trying to get into touch with art and with life. It has not as yet fully succeeded in escaping from the contempt and indifference in which it has been held since its very beginning by social and religious reformers on the one hand and by orthodox critics on the other. Bengal has not yet developed any regular stage-technique to guide its dramatic productions, whereas in Europe and America, in spite of the apparent confusion of various schools and various conflicting ideas, stage-craft may be said to have reached a definite point of achievement, and competent men in different lines of stage- production are daily emerging with new ideas and trying new experiments. The West has already developed a very successful type of stage-craft which aims at finding a true and just proportion between stage and auditorium and a synthesis between the play and its setting. This involves a study of the contemporary methods of planning and constructing theatres, of lighting and colour-schemes and all the modern facilities for theatrical illusion. These methods have been consistently sought by well-known regisseurs of European drama, however much they may differ in matters of detail. Max Reinhardt gives first importance to the right kind of architectural designs suitable for a drama or an opera; Gordon Craig wants to bring the mechanical machinery of the stage into strict harmony with lighting, colour-effects and dramatis persona; and Adolphe Appia secures the success of a production by concentrating entirely upon lighting methods. Bengal has not yet its plastic and architectural stage; public criticism of false perspective has not been sufficient to bring it about. On a modern Bengali stage, which still employs painted canvas, the conflict between the dead setting and the living actor is inevitable. The dramatic illusion of a Bengali play is too apparent. Against two-dimensional painting on the drops and wings, we have three-dimensional actors. This painted pretence will have to disappear completely before the Bengali stage can achieve any real success in modern productions. The painting of imaginary landscapes, roads, buildings and trees, has to give way to the visual realism of architectural and plastic designs. Painting conveys flatness, no depth. Mountains, a sea-coast or any distant object, may occasionally have to be painted but not the available things of everyday life, which can very well be built up on the stage. In a modern play we not only want an illusion of reality but an illusion ofactuality. The importance of this actual visual illusion lies in its ability to catch the eye of an audience; and the work of the designer or architect will be successful only so far as it can give the impression of the right kind of ground which easily sets the imagination of the spectators working and rouses a kind of collective spirit, which alone is its raison d'etre. So architectural design will have to be adopted by Bengali stage-practitioners if they desire the ends of beauty and illusion and not mere trickery and false pretence. It is true that in Europe the architectural setting for the stage has not arrived at any point of real perfection, but the false pretence of the old type of stage-setting has been abandoned forever. It is rather unfortunate that in the modern commercial theatre of the West, the director and actor have been so much overshadowed by the electrician and architect. Against this the Bengali producers must be on their guard. They should never try to secure the success of a play merely by those artificial means, which modern scientific machinery can so easily supply. A certain amount of anarchy was bound to happen in the European methods of stage-architecture; machinery took hold of the mind of a commercial producer in a rather destructive manner. Signor Marinetti, an Italian futurist, has even insisted that because the machine represents the spirit of the modern age, a drama ought to represent the life, and movement of men as machines, in which actors will be shown enclosed in cylinders and funnels. The Russian Proletariat theatre is being encouraged by Meirhold and Foregger to develop on similar lines. Of course, these are rather extreme cases of the employment of machinery for stage representations. Man is not a marionette and so an actor cannot possibly become an organised piece of mechanism like a machine. A theatre cannot be made into a real source of entertainment or inspiration by being converted into a scheme of geometric figures, spirals and angles, oblongs and squares, with blotches of paint here and there. The fact is that Cubism, Vorticism and all forms of futurist art have led to a certain confusion in the standard of values, for the reason they have gone beyond the limits imposed by the realistic, plastic stage. All futurist experiments have followed in the main the principle of expressing emotions or ideas through merely unintelligible pictorial art, without the slightest regard for the actual reality of the objects painted. The deeply reflective attitude of a futurist painter or architect has led him to represent objects that are not real but are the perversions of his eccentric imagination. The futurist tendencies of European painting and stage-architecture have already exercised a considerable influence upon Bengali art and incidentally on Bengali stage-representations. The scenery which is usually designed by Messrs Nanda Lal Basu and Asit Kumar Haldar for Rabindranath's plays is essentially of an impressionistic type. It looks like a bit of painted canvas of hazy and subdued colour and a weird assemblage of unintelligible angles and lines, made to suggest if anything at all something quaint, shadowy and unsubstantial. If we look at Mr. Gaganendra Nath Tagore's sketches prepared for one of Rabindranath's latest plays, Rakta Karabi, we notice that they do not convey any directness or clarity of expression but a vague kind of emotional intimacy through subtle suggestions of lines and light and shade. The air of Bengal is thick today with such catch-words as ‘symbolic’, ‘rhythmic’, ‘dynamic’ and so on. The modern Bengali impressionist artists are vainly trying to find in these formulae some new medium of art-expression and are only distorting their art by crude and imitative methods. Of course, they represent that small section of Bengali artists of the school of Mr. Abanindra Nath Tagore who are collaborating with Rabindranath Tagore in his dramatic productions. The vagueness of their methods is in a sense encouraged by the vagueness inherent in the plays of Rabindranath. So to Rabindranath's theatre which concerns itself with thoughts alone, the painting of a symbolistic type has been added, visualising, as it were, the atmosphere of the play. But the true function of a realistic plastic stage is not merely to produce an emotional atmosphere but to produce understanding and sympathy by means of a visual illusion of actuality. It has to give the impression of objects in terms of both inner and outer actuality–an actuality of form instead of an actuality of idea. The most significant thing achieved by these Bengali impressionistic painters is, however, the breakdown of false realism in form and content and false perspective in painting. But until the electrician and architect, decorative artist and mechanic, combine with the producer, playwright and actor, there will not come in Bengal any perfected type of plastic stage–such a type as will allow of the successful and creditable production of modern plays. Light is the heart of the modern stage-picture today and is perhaps second only to the actor himself in importance. A modern actor cannot afford to dispense with the aid of the lighting-effects if he is satisfactorily to represent different situations at different periods of time. The most constructive of all European regisseurs in matters of lighting is Adolphe Appia and it is to him the modern Bengali stage must look for practical suggestions and ideas. The Russians have brought great painters like Leon Bakst and Roerich into their theatre, and Bengal must accordingly draw its inspiration from the artists of the younger generation. As regards the architectural and mechanical problems of the theatre, no one in Europe is a greater authority than Max Reinhardt. It would be well for Bengali stage-architects to study him and try to understand his methods which have proved so successful in Europe and America. If the Bengali stage is to develop on modern lines and to obtain a more general recognition, it will have to keep in touch with the modern developments in European stage-craft and incorporate some of its new ideas and experiments into its own main lines of development. Tagore's contempt for external action and machinery will never help towards the achievement of a real stage-technique in Bengal.

A CONFUSED SPECTACLE

The Bengali theatre of today presents an interesting but rather a confused spectacle. There has certainly been what we may regard as post-war reformation but there is a lack of a consistent policy and firm imagination. A theatre guild has recently been formed under the name of ‘Arts Theatre Limited’ which owns the old ‘Star Theatre’ and claims as its greatest success of the season a very long run (three hundred performances) of a mythological play called ‘Karnarjun’. Rabindranath Tagore recently gave them permission to stage ‘Chira Kumar Sabha’ (Bachelor's Club) a dramatised version of an old work called ‘Prajapatir Nirbandha’. Encouraged by the royalties he received as a result of this venture, he is contemplating allowing the company to produce a few other plays, both new and old. Of course, for Rabindranath to come in such close touch with the professional stage is undoubtedly a good augury for the future. But if the truth is to be told, the main efforts of the ‘Arts Theatre Limited’ have so far been directed to crush a new rising Bengali actor and producer, Mr. Sisir Kumar Bhaduri. Sisir Kumar was a professor of a Calcutta College and had already gained distinction as an amateur in many private performances. When he became a professional, one expected big things of him–an expectation which he has so far more than amply justified. Sisir Kumar is fighting single-handed against this theatre monopoly and it seems something of a tragedy that he should be the only man on the Bengali stage today who possesses zeal, ability and imagination. He has education, experience and strength of character. He has all the qualities that make a good actor–personality, technique and temperament. He is a thorough student of modern European stage-craft and judging from his very recent productions, notably that of Ksirod Prasad Vidyabinod's ‘Alamgir’ at the ‘Alfred Theatre’ and of ‘Pundarik’ and ‘Sita’ at the ‘Natya Mandir’, he has shown distinct originality in the art of production. He attends to accuracy of detail and perfection of technique. He keeps his eye on the setting against which his men and women are to stand and he knows how to handle his material so as to produce a harmony between the play and its atmosphere. He does not employ the stock-in-trade of the older stage-practitioners, and he is developing a new style which may become the approved style of the new age. Great actor as he is, he insists on simplicity and naturalness. He shuns declamation and vociferation; he does not shout and gesticulate like ‘Dani Babu,’ of the older school but speaks his words with wonderful clarity and precision, with his eyes as well as his lips. He has taught his men and women to say momentous things in the most simple, natural and off-hand manner. Under his influence, his actors and actresses have broken away from traditional behaviour and artificial mentality. In fact he is trying to permeate his actors and actresses with the simplicity and naturalness of his own style, so that quite a new type of actor and actress is rising in Bengal today. It still remains to be seen how far he will be successful in his new method of production.

THE PROBLEM OF ACTRESSES

One great obstacle to the improvement of the Bengali theatre is the objection of the Hindu community to actresses’ parts being taken by women of good social standing. But ideas are changing and it is quite likely that the social ban will be lifted some day and that actresses will be recruited from all sections of society. When that happens, the Bengali theatre will have more dignity and moral prestige and its taste and tone and atmosphere will be vastly improved. In Rabindranath’s plays, boys and girls act together without constraint in public performances, and this kind of thing is not condemned as morally bad as it might have been fifty years ago. Another and still greater drawof the professional stage is its conservatism in matters of dress and costume. The managers only too often spend money recklessly on merely ostentatious and gaudy dresses which are absolutely unsuited for the time and circumstances of the play. It was not very long ago when Giris Chandra's ‘Praphulla’ was staged at the ‘Star Theatre,’ the dress of a jail-prisoner in the play was funny to the point of being ludicrous. Then there is that absurd combination of English blouse, Benarasi ‘sari’ and Hindustani slippers for the dress of a ‘Queen.’ Soldiers, porters, courtiers and citizens are most indifferently dressed. Rajput, Pathan or Mogul dresses are invented without the slightest regard to even the historical information available about them. In Pauranic plays, of course, there is no possibility of knowing what the legendary heroes and heroines used to wear, but the producers ought to exercise their own imagination instead of dressing up their men and women in the most fantastic costumes of the present day.

THE PROFESSIONALS

But by far the greatest obstacle to the development of the Bengali drama is the narrowness and ignorance of the professional actors and actresses. They are so stiff and so self-conscious and so tied down to the crude technicalities of their life that they can never step out of their theatrical roles. If they could only get in touch with real life and find themselves in a world quite different from their own, the Bengali stage would be richer in experience and outlook. But the professional theatre in Bengal is dominated by one great superstition, that an actor has his appropriate type of part and must never be cast for another of a different sort. He may change his tailor, but never his mask or method, as he moves from one play to another. And even a play will be found for him that will just suit his part. In fact, this largely explains why the majority of the Calcutta theatres today are dominated mostly by the plays of the old masters. It can scarcely be otherwise so long as the theatres are in the hands of a small group of veteran professionals of the old school. The managers do not show the slightest regard for public sentiment and continue to stage only such plays as will allow their permanent stars to make good in their respective roles. All that is wanted to remedy this state of affairs is that playgoers should show more independence and courage of conviction. If they support new ventures, new amateur companies, new authors and new experiments, the traditional monotony of the professional stage will be broken. We must have reverence for big things and big artists, but we must not allow tradition to become a fetish. We must beware of too much reverence for Giris Chandra or Dvijendra Lal. Their works must be treated as things to be experimented with, and must not be continually produced in the traditional manner of the old school. There is no knowing when a single good play may be written, but good play will not follow good play unless three factors co-exist: people who can write good plays, people who will produce good plays, people who will go to see good plays. With the death of Giris Chandra and Dvijendra Lal, the first great epoch of the Bengali theatre came to an end. Their plays cannot possibly hold the modern stage for an indefinite period of time. So it would be the height of indiscretion on the part of a modern producer to feed his audiences night after night with one or other of the old masterpieces. The younger generation will have to furnish plays of its own time, to be acted by men and women of its own time, before the people of its own time. It should be the ambition of the theatre-technician to provide in his stage an artistic medium which shall not only give greater freedom of production to old masterpieces but clear the way for new dramatic works and enterprises. The stage must become the centre of sound, the centre of light, the centre of colour and the centre of the affection and enthusiasm of the audience. In this alone lies the hope of a good future for the Bengali drama. That hope can only be fulfilled in a durable and permanent alliance between actors and playwrights on the one hand, and producers and stage-practitioners on the other. The scientific and artistic possibilities of the Bengali theatre under these conditions will be unlimited.