Drama review

Muhudu Lihiniya: Sieving art out of life

By Dilshan Boange

“Being a small time writer is also a glory of some sorts, isn’t it?” is the effect to which the words spoken by the character of Piotr Sorin in the Sinhala translation of Anton Chekov’s The Seagull.

I smiled to myself seated in the gentle darkness in the Tower Hall on December 17 as I listened and grasped those words, watching Muhudu Lihiniya (The Seagull) produced by the Tower Hall Theatre Foundation which marked the directorial debut of Sampath Perera who must be applauded for his proven capacity to mould a superb performance by a troupe of young amateur actors whose natural talents for acting and commitment to the art of theatre were strikingly visible.

They brought to life on the boards of the Tower Hall a play of the Russian master dramatist Anton Chekhov.

The credit of the Sinhala translation goes to Ariyarathne Vithana. The text is one that held the solid foundation of a work that represented the Russian cultural ethos through a Sinhala lingual depiction that was very much addressed to the mainstream theatregoer and not bombastically peppered with high flown literary Sinhala.

The play unfolded captivatingly as a performance and was convincing as a story from another culture that was channelled to a Sri Lankan audience through the use of solid purposeful translation which did not incorporate or contrive goals of an ‘adaptation’.

At times I have seen how a work of theatre labelled a ‘translation’ of a foreign play is moulded with a very significant local twist in terms of not only linguistic aspects but also the setting and cultural significations.

Purpose of life

At the very heart of the play are several questions on the purpose of life as investigated through art. What is the purpose of art? And how does it come into being? If the former is answered, the latter will likely be demystified. That is possibly one of the revelations that pulsates in the play.

As the Czech writer Milan Kundera explains in his literary discourses, one of the central purposes of fiction as an art in Western Europe was to try to find answers to various questions about life within the work of fiction itself. The world created through the narrative is thereby meant to be a world by itself. Like a number of the great thinkers of the West who turned to art for answers to existential questions and created an investigative premise of the human psyche in their artistic creations, Chekov too in The Seagull presents the viewer with a glimpse of the proposition that art may reveal the answer.

The play gives a glimpse of what dogged the psyche of the Russian provincial upper class and the intellectual elite of the times. Their questions related to the tortured soul within the human being.

In this regard Western European culture treated the arts and letters as vital to sustain the spiritual being of man.

The play shows characters such as the ageing actress Irina Arkadina yearning for continued appeal both socially and sexually, resent provincial life as boring and deadening her vivacity.

Her elder brother Sorin, tormented by ill health and with two failed ambitions in life - to get married and be a writer - yearns to visit the city and have an excursion to escape the humdrum country side.

There is a strong desire in them to escape the dreariness of provincial life and seek the excitements of urban living.

To the aspiring young actress Nina Zarechnaya going to Moscow to pursue her dreams of being a stage actress results in what is her moral deterioration, although the ‘veneer of urbaneness’ has been successfully daubed on her facade.

The result of renouncing provincial life, thus, depending on the character, has many significations. On the theme of what art means to Russian society of the time, the play shows an interesting aspect of how two specific forms of expression - writing and theatre are discussed within the context of artistic aspirations. Boris Trigorin, Irina’s lover is a celebrated writer, Sorin dreamt of being one while Kostia Treplev, Irina’s disaffected son who is deeply tormented by his station in life and his mother’s lifestyle, develops into a writer towards the end of the play. Irina is a highly acclaimed theatre actress while Nina pursues her dreams of being an actress.

There is that unmistakable statement in The Seagull, that art is always something larger than life. Part of escaping the provincialism that some of the central characters are affected by is to do with how they see art as a means of transforming the mundane person to something larger than life.

It is this notion that drives them to pursue their ambitions of being recognised for artistic accomplishment.

Commitment

Chekov shows us that the writers and actors endeavour to achieve an ‘image preservation’ of themselves in the minds and eyes of those who perceive their work. The commitment to the arts is thus contended as perhaps for the very objective of defeating our mortality.

Thereby Chekov offers a glimpse at the spiritual aspiration within man to unravel the answer to an existential question. Why do we pursue artistic goals? The happiness art brings us is the result of our disaffection, the dissatisfaction we have with our reality. Art, is thus a form of escape.

The underlying investigation of what art is, lends to a much more specific critique and contention in the text of the play, which is, what is theatre? The ‘play’ that Kostia presents with his ladylove Nina in performance on the boards of a rudimentary makeshift theatre structure put up in their estate ends unsuccessfully due to audience response being not to Kostia’s expectations. “Natya kalavata aluth aakruthiyak one.” (The art of theatre needs a new structure) says Kostia to his uncle Sorin in the dialogue of the first scene itself.

It got me thinking of how the Sinhala play Suddek Oba Amathai by Udayasiri Wickremaratne was very much a deviation from the structures of drama as generally perceived.

Wickremaratne’s play has even been contested by critics as not qualifying as a stage drama. Yet it has received some considerable public demand over the course of time. And interestingly, Wickremaratne’s most recent creation to the stage – Rangapem ivarai (Adieu to Acting) is very much a work of a similar ‘structure’ as his previous play.

Desire

What is theatre is a stinging question affecting Kostia who devises means of expression that fulfil his desire to artistically voice his unspoken feelings. What unfolds as the ‘drama’ or ‘play’ with Nina as the ‘artiste’ is a solo act. If that performance is extracted as a separate ‘work’ and juxtaposed with the play ‘The Seagull’ or any other play of Chekov for that matter such comparison would show they are ‘works’ which are worlds apart in form and content.

What one finds in the language of that solo act delivered by Nina scripted and directed by Kostia is a dramatised monologue built on imagery bound with metaphoric language rendering it a highly poetic expression. It is more a poem in performance than a plot in action.

In this day and age one could liken it to a performance of ‘Slam Poetry’. Today’s theatre could accept it as a solo act play. But alas to Kostia’s audience it failed to form a valid ‘structure’ and conform to the definition of ‘theatre’. Perhaps Chekov was indicating what people during his time validated and accepted and rejected as ‘theatre’.

This play is thus important to glimpse how Russian society at the time grasped and engaged with theatre. The Seagull can be looked at for its merits as a social critique of art criticism in Russian society at that time.

Focusing on aspects of the production I would say the director had devised what was practically achievable giving thought to set design and logistics since one cannot expect a Broadway production and must appreciate the limits within which the Sri Lankan theatre practitioners work.

The stage sets were tastefully done, being more than the minimalist while of course not being elaborate to the extent that a play of the realist genre like Chekov’s would ‘ideally’ demand when performed in grand theatre’s in Moscow.

Recognition

I say this to give recognition to the limits in resources our artists face in general, especially with regard to theatre, and the need to appreciate what is devised to drive a convincing setup of what the setting is meant to be in the eyes of the viewer.

Furniture too after all are very much part and parcel of the narrative when it comes to theatre.

A detail I could not help but notice with regard to stage props was that a number of characters drank from a bottle that was to my discerning a bottle of Bombay Sapphire (A brand of Gin).

The character of Masha said her choice of ‘poison’ is usually Vodka or Cognac. And I have my doubts whether Gin was actually much known to people in Tsarist Russia.

However, I will not venture to say that it was a matter of critical importance to the credibility of the narrative. The bottle, after all, as a material object devoid of its label served the purpose!

The costume designs and make-up were commendable and convincing. The stage lighting was generally executed well although a few minor lapses in timing did occur.

The music was satisfactory, but at times did not contribute in equal measure to complement the other elements that weave the texture of a given scene. Music was one aspect I felt could have been improved in this production.

The strength of any play as a performance rests on the script and the skills of the actors to bring characters to life though their verbal tones, physical gestures, facial expressions and the deft blending of those elements to artfully time and deliver the performance in the complex ‘interplay’ with fellow actors.

I would unhesitatingly say that the most potent resource that Sampath Perera possessed to make the show a success was his talented troupe of actors.

Acting talent

There was an evenly balanced fabric of acting talent that brought the play to life and these budding actors must be congratulated for their performance of Muhudu Lihiniya.

Their performance indicated that although they are still amateurs in the field, their level of commitment has paid off. There was not a single line fumbled by any one of them as far as I could scrutinise.

Their timing with one another to interplay was well executed. In short, they were very thorough with their roles and delivered much more than simply their lines on cue.

The cast of Muhudu Lihiniya comprised Buddhini Peiris, Prabhash Weerakotuwa, Sumadhu Chathuranga, Samantha Paranaliyanage, Nayomi Thakshila, Ranga Jayawardhane, Ruwanthi Nimanthika, Prinyanwada Nilaweera, Chathuranga Ekanayake, Manuja Udawaththa, and Nadeera Udagedara. Special mention must be made of the two young actresses Buddhini Peiris who played Irina and Nayomi Thakshila who played Nina whose performances were notably striking on account of their ability to project their character’s persona with subtle nuances and mercurial flexes when the mood of the situation demanded it.

Nayomi Thakshila delivered her role in a manner that displayed her natural acting abilities. She brought Nina to life, enchantingly. Her performance was brilliant, her presence was sparkling.

The actor who played the role of the estate manager too must be commended for his captivating performance, as well as Sumadhu Chathuranga for his portrayal of the devious and surreptitiously exploitative Boris Trigorin.

The production showed a host of talents that must be cultivated and supported to continue to contribute to theatre in our country. Perera and his team of actors and the rest of the members of the production must be congratulated for their triumph with Muhudu Lihiniya.

I salute them for an appreciable production, and wish them well for their future success.