Interview - Jatinder Verma

23rd July 2008

The British Library, London

When the British Library realised that the condition of the Mewar manuscripts, which they’d had in their possession since 1840, were rapidly deteriorating, it was decided to unbind the series of over 100 illustrations.  The 17th century Mewar manuscript had never been exhibited before, and the unbinding presented an opportunity to display these incredibly detailed miniature paintings depicting every scene from the 24,000 verse Ramayana.  The British Library invited Tara Arts, the first ‘Asian’ theatre group in Britain, to design the exhibition.  Jatinder Verma, artistic director of Tara Arts, talks to Venetia Ansell about the exhibition and the Ramayana today.

It is apt that the British Library should have invited Tara Arts, reputed for their work in connecting cultures, to design this exhibition.  Jatinder Verma, one of its founders, is very much a product of multiculturalism.  Of Indian-origin, but born in Tanzania and raised in Kenya, he fled to London in the 60s and set up a theatre company in response to racist violence.  Since its inception in 1977, Jatinder and his theatre troupe have moved from away from the fringe and are edging into the mainstream.  This exhibition of India’s best-loved epic at the British Library could be seen as a parallel coming of age of Indian art in establishment England. 

Jatinder, though, is not convinced – “I’ve always said that art is art irrespective of where it comes from.” – and dislikes the ‘Asian art’ tag.  And yet he does feel that the focus is moving to the East.  That the West is starting to discover an appetite for the literature of the orient as the artistic snobbery that colonialism engendered subsides.

 

And while it’s true that, “Western museums are products of empire”, Jatinder doesn’t think that the fact the British Library has most of the manuscript is really an Elgin Marble case. Many feel that in a post-colonial era such collections should be returned to their country of origin, but Jatinder believes that the setting for this exhibition is itself a product of today’s British culture – it’s a part of decolonisation.  And of course Western museums have far more resources to do this kind of thing than establishments in India.  For him, the issue is not where it belongs, but how accessible it is.  And the fact that this exhibition is free is hugely important.

 

But accessibility is much more than just the entry charge – for most people a certain amount of context is needed to make the exhibition comprehensible.  Tara Arts have designed the exhibition so that the visitor can walk into the world of the Ramayana.  There are floral installations, a huge effigy of Ravana, and bright colour coded sections to reflect the “forest world” as Jatinder calls it.  He wants the visitor to get a feel for the fauna and flora of the Ramayana, which are often overlooked but form so crucial a part of both the text and these illustrations.  Indeed, some of the most beautiful scenes are those of the exiles in the forest, with Ram pointing out to Sita all the different trees and flowers – many of which are captured with great accuracy by the artists.  Jatinder also comments on the wonderful intimacies of the text which are reflected in these drawings – a small section of one painting for instance shows a frightened Sita rush into Ram’s arms at the roar of a lion.

 

Another important emphasis was the contemporary angle.  “This is not a dead book, it’s a living text – it’s important that people understand that.”  The Ramayana is, says Jatinder, unique in that it forms a constant dialogue between the text and its modern significance.  Its presence in today’s world continually changes the way we look at Valmiki’s epic. 

 

Hindus of course attach great religious significance to the Ramayana – Ram is a god and Sita the ideal wife. But for many Hindus the Ramayana they know is not Valmiki’s (the Sanskrit text upon which the Mewar manuscript is based) but Tulsidas’ Hindi version.  “My mother for instance knows the Ramayana inside out but not this version, so I wonder what she makes of this.”  As Jatinder says, the war scenes are fairly graphic, with spurting blood and spaghetti strings of entrails all over the place, whereas Tulsidas’ version “has had the blood leeched out of it.”  For devout Hindus, too, Valmiki’s text is much less of a homage to Rama than Tulsidas’ more moral ‘Ramacharitmanas’ – Ram here is not explicitly being glorified as the divinity he will become.  One of the best things about this exhibition for Jatinder is that it presents a rare opportunity to view and discuss the Ramayana in a non-Hindu context.

 

There are political elements too which keep the Ramayana current.  For instance, Jatinder points out the subtext of the different versions of the Ramayana – that of North Indian colonisation of the South.  If you take the portrayal of Ravana for instance you go from one extreme in Tulsidas, where he is an out and out baddie, to the Tamil Kamba Ramanaya where Ravana is in love with Sita, and deals with her honourably.  Valmiki’s ambivalent portrayal is somewhere in the middle.  And the Ramayana hasn’t escaped controversy in the modern era either – with the Babri Masjid and more recently the Rama Setu, both of which stir up huge emotion in India.

 

But if the Ramayana is a living text it is perhaps most importantly because it is kept alive artistically as well as religiously and politically.  There are hundreds of Ramayanas – almost as many as there are Indians in India jokes Jatinder – and more being produced every day.  The exhibition brings this out by displaying all the many artistic representations the epic has inspired, from wayang kulit (shadow puppet theatre) to MF Hussain (India’s best known living artist).  Bollywood film posters attest to the popularity of the Ramayana as entertainment in India even now.  For Jatinder all these new interpretations and spin offs continue the conversation between the text and its living avatar.  “The key feature of a classic is that it’s indestructible”.  A classic is not affected by either time of the artistic progeny which it spawns.  “The Ramayana can sustain all interpretations.”

 

Jatinder intends to work more with Sanskrit texts and talks of doing Kalidasa’s Shakuntala.  He accepts though that it would be a huge challenge not only to convey the mixture of prose and poetry which is so hard to do in English but also to present the relationship between the sexes.  For Jatinder, it’s not enough to ‘modernise’ the text and bring it in line with contemporary sensibilities.  He wants to produce a play which an audience will receive in the same way Kalidasa’s audience would have received it.  “I don’t want to bring the classic down to my audience, I want the audience to come up to the classic.”  But he admits that it will be difficult to do this in Britain where the concepts of sexuality and sensuality are blurred.  “For instance in India you have the saree - a sensual garment which reveals as much as it covers.”  In England we have the bikini.

‘The Ramayana: Love and Valour in India’s Great Epic’ is on at the Pearson Gallery in The British Library until 14th September 2008

Admission is free

An interview with Shri Chaitanya Kunte

Shri Chaitanya Kunte, composer and musicologist, conceived and presented an innovative concert, Kalidas Vilas, in Pune recently.  The show covered most of the Kalidasa’s oeuvre, presenting both kavya and drama through a mixture of ancient recitation, and traditional and contemporary Indian music  and dance. 

Chaitanya spoke to Venetia Ansell about the concert and the language and literature of Sanskrit.

15th July 2008

 

What was the concept behind the concert?

India is the home of Sanskrit, but there has been a steady decline in both awareness of and interest in Sanskrit.  Very few have a taste for either the language or the literature.  I wanted to introduce people to the nuances of Kalidasa’s poetry and the beauty of his work.  I designed the concert not for Sanskrit scholars but for the layman who has no more than a vague knowledge of Sanskrit and Kalidasa.

What do you think has caused this decline?

Sanskrit used to be a regular subject on most school curricula – we all learnt it.  Nowadays, people prefer to take up English and then French, Spanish, German….  All Indian languages, both modern and ancient, are suffering as a result.  It’s very sad that people don’t know about this wonderfully rich literature.  In fact, out of the team who worked with me on this project only two or three had any acquaintance with Sanskrit  (one, Madhura Godbole, is a Sanskrit scholar) so even for them this was something of an education.

More needs to be done to promote Sanskrit.   We should teach children the language from an early age.  We should find novel means of presenting Sanskrit literature, through media such as this concert.  And I think that we should use the internet as a tool to promote the language and its literature especially for the younger generation.

How did you try to present Kalidasan poetry and drama in the concert?

I felt that by clubbing Sanskrit with popular forms of music and dance it would be better received.   I used classical ragas and dance forms like Bharatnatyam, with which most of the audience would be familiar.  So for instance we started the concert with the opening lines of the Shakuntalam on the eight forms of Shiva and the lord’s manifestation of himself in nature, for which I used a traditional raga.  The Meghadutam was done in a more contemporary style with dance.  And the Ritusamhaara was presented through recitation, just as it would have been in the king’s courts.  I wanted to give the audience a feel for Kalidasa’s works without going in to too much detail.  We were of course limited by time constraints.  I could have spent three hours just presenting the Raghuvamsham but that’s not really practical with a modern audience.  And we had a preface in Marathi to introduce each piece – the idea was that with this and the visual and audio representations that accompanied each verse the audience would be able to grasp both the meaning and the beauty of the poetry despite not being able to understand the Sanskrit.

And how did they like it?

I had several people come up to me afterwards and say that they had no idea that these texts were so beautiful, nor that Sanskrit could be so easily understood.  There were a few Sanskrit scholars there too and they seemed to appreciate this novel manner of presenting Kalidasa. 

The audience were a mixed bunch of old and young, although I admit predominantly Hindu – mainly because the venue was in a Hindu residential area.  I do think though that this kind of thing can appeal to people throughout India and indeed abroad too – there’s so much Sanskrit scholarship and interest outside India.  About six years ago, I was asked to do a recording on certain Sanskrit texts, including Kalidasa and excerpts from the Vedas, for a Japanese lady who was studying Sanskrit in contemporary performances.

So you’ve worked on similar projects before?  Are other people working with Sanskrit texts in this way? 

Well, it’s difficult because you need to know Sanskrit and of course marrying Sanskrit texts to music and dance isn’t simple.  So there aren’t too many doing this kind of thing.  Of course, there are the regular performances of texts like the Gita Govinda in Odissi dance, but that’s a very different thing – there the dancer is more interested in the style of dance than the text upon which it’s based.

The danseuse and choreographer, Sandhya Dharma, who worked with us on this project was so inspired by the concert that she is now planning a full length dance concert with Sanskrit lyrics.  So that should take shape soon.  And for now, we’re hoping to take this concert to Mumbai, Delhi and Ujjain – if we can get sponsorship.  The trouble is that corporate sponsors are not very interested in sponsoring a project like this – they prefer big colourful song and dance affairs.  It’s Sanskrit versus Bollywood – but still, I’ll keep trying.

Details of any upcoming performances of Kalidas Vilas will be announced here if and when they are confirmed.

Giri Jharee - Dr Varanasi Ramabrahmam

गिरि झरी

  

 

गिरि झरी मम कविताधारा

कदा न भवति शुष्का सा आर्द्रता

 

हृदयगिरौ सम्जाता

प्रवहति धावति

लंघयति पतति

जलपातं भवति

  Continue reading ‘Giri Jharee - Dr Varanasi Ramabrahmam’

Sangeeta-Geetikaa - Dr Harekrishna Meher

सङ्गीत-गीतिका [ 'मातृगीतिकाञ्जलिः' - काव्यतः]

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गीत-रचना तथा स्वर-रचना :  डा. हरेकृष्ण- मेहेरः
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विधातुः प्राङ्गणं
विततं सङ्गीतमयम् ।
प्रकृत्याः प्रतिकणं
नियतं युत-ताल-लयम्
विततं सङ्गीतमयम् ॥ [ध्रुवम्]
* Continue reading ‘Sangeeta-Geetikaa - Dr Harekrishna Meher’

‘Tales from the Kathāsaritsāgara’ - an excerpt

An excerpt from ‘Tales from the Kathāsaritsāgara’ – Somadeva

Translated from the Sanskrit with an Introduction by Arshia Sattar

Penguin Books India

 

p.84 – 91 of ‘Ratnaprabhā’

 

            When Naravāhanadatta had obtained Ratnaprabhā, his new Vidyādharī bride, he stayed with her in her house.  The next day, his minister Gomukha and others came to visit.  They were detained at the door by the door-keeper who allowed them to enter only after their arrival had been announced.  They were welcomed with honour and said to the door-keeper, ‘Do not stop my husband’s friends at the door like this again, for they are dearer to me than my life.  I do not think that women’s apartments should be guarded in this manner.’  Then she said to her husband, ‘Listen to what I have to say on the subject of the protection of women.  I think that the custom of guarding them so carefully is useless.  It arises from jealousy and serves no purpose at all.  Well-born women protect themselves with chastity as their only bodyguard.  But even the gods cannot protect the promiscuous, for no one can control a river or a lusty woman!  Listen and I will tell you a story.

  Continue reading ‘‘Tales from the Kathāsaritsāgara’ - an excerpt’

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