‘You need comedy to talk serious’
Laxmi Chandrashekar has been given the Rangasadhane award for this year. She’s given a new lease of life to the middle class Kannada comedy, adapting various forms of literature for theatre to create family productions.
“Critics often look down on comedy, but it’s much harder to pull it off, to get actors for it, keep people laughing in their seats without using below-the-belt humour,” she says, talking of the challenges she faces.
Humour — comedy, irony, satire — she feels, is “the need of the hour”. “That’s the only way we can talk of serious issues. It relaxes people and the message is conveyed subtly,” she adds.
Awards must be given and not asked for, she believes. “And despite earlier controversies, this award has been given to me,” she adds.
‘Anything is possible through theatre’
Her grandfather did theatre in their village in Chikkaballapur district and Yashodamma, who has been honoured with the annual award for her contribution to theatre, took her baby steps on stage as a child actor.
“I played roles in my father’s plays too,” she says. “I used to be very good at make-up. Even now, the way I apply it makes me look exactly the part.”
She continued to be active in the arts scene as she finished schooling and graduation. Even marriage and moving to Bengaluru in 1976 didn’t change this.
“My husband was very encouraging even when my in-laws were against my acting career,” she says, her voice breaking -- she has just lost him a couple of days ago.
“Society doesn’t speak well of theatre and women in theatre; unfortunately, my in-laws listened to the talk,” says she. She remembers how her heart would be in her mouth the when she returned home after rehearsals.
She says, “As an actor, you have to put your personal feelings aside and engage with the audience, make them forget their troubles.”
‘I’m here for my happiness’
M Chandrakanth, who hails from Mysuru, is one among the 10 who has been conferred the Academy’s annual award for 2013. He has been honoured for his contribution to theatre from behind the scenes.
His stint with theatre began in the late seventies, shortly after he moved to Bengaluru to work as a quality engineer in BEML.
Featuring prominently on the artiste’s list of best moments is Legend of Ram, a play for which K S Ramesh did the special effects. It was staged on a moving train in Delhi.
“Twenty six Kannada theatre artistes travelled with Ramesh to help with 25 shows of the play. There were two railway tracks with coaches. The cast enacted the play on one of them, while the audience travelled in the other, watching,” he says.
He recalls a time when there was no blue light to change the sets and the properties had to be moved between scenes in the darkness. “We used to have backstage rehearsals then — carrying four beer bottles and glasses in complete darkness was quite a feat, and we used to do it,” he recollects.
He further says, “Everyone talks about how they can contribute to theatre. All I can say is, I’m here for my happiness. There’s so much theatre gives us, and there’s nothing we can give to theatre.” And it doesn’t take much to make this “workaholic” happy — he loves props.
From getting costumes washed and ironed to travelling to the other end of the city to collect cow dung to plaster a hut with, he loves everything about the run-up to the show. Theatre instils discipline, he believes and says, “Ganesh, Yash, Srinagar Kitty have all carried trunks backstage with me. And look at them now — they can really get into their roles.”
So what are his best moments? “Even after watching multiple rehearsals of Devanur Mahadeva’s Odalala, we cried while watching Umashri’s performance on the day of the show. Another one was when I got to play the policeman’s part in Kavalu two days before the 45th show, as the original actor backed out. After rehearsing for just a day, I managed to pull it off!”
‘Theatre is my first love’
Two of G N Mohan’s books on theatre, Rangakinnari and Third Bell, have bagged the Rangabhoomi Pustaka Puraskara. He graduated in theatre from Bangalore University, but moved on to study masters in journalism.
So despite a busy schedule, he had the drive to attend performances and review them — something that very few journalists do. Nevertheless, it took a lot of juggling of shifts and days off to be able to catch plays, at least initially. It was his passion for the art that kept him going, and the books are compilations of his columns that he wrote for a prominent Kannada daily and a magazine.
Later, when he moved on to TV, he introduced a theatre show in prime time, which is rather rare in mainstream media. “Theatre is in my blood. Wherever I go, I’ll take it with me.”
Influenced by Samudaya, a left-inclined theatre movement in the eighties, he has also authored a book titled Samoohadinda Samoohakke — Beedi Nataka on this theatre form which, he believes, like all other forms in the face of globalisation, has to change its grammar.
“When TV became popular, newspapers had to change their grammar — they shifted their focus from pure information to infotainment. Theatre has to innovate to give people something different from what they already get watching TV at home,” he says.
