BY S. M. Y. SASTRY

It was the Parsi Touring Company that laid the foundation for the modern stage in the Telugu country. Prior to this we had only performances in the ‘Bhagavata’ style. One peculiar feature of the development of Telugu Literature was that translations and semi-independent adaptations that largely made up the ancient and medieval Telugu Literature were restricted to the ‘Puranic’ and ‘Prabandha’ styles. The drama unfortunately escaped the attention of the earlier literary giants, and the tradition having continued, the drama was never attempted even later. Whether it was the lack of an organised stage that prevented the emergence of the drama as a popular form of literary expression, or whether the lack of suitable dramas prevented a proper organisation of the stage is not easy to guess. The fact however is that the drama as a form of expression was long neglected.

The success of the Parsi Touring Company fired bands of enthusiasts all over the country to emulate and start indigenous Dramatic Companies after that model. The organisation of the early Dramatic Troupes took the form of a Stock Company patronised by one or two persons who were not merely interested in the Stage but had the capacity to finance. These were not however financial ventures but were only artistic hobbies which often proved financial successes. Actors were either unpaid amateurs or were paid on a monthly basis. It was also the custom with these Societies to have playwrights of their own who supplied them with plays regularly. The plays of Sri Chilakamarty Lakshmi Narasimham were almost all written for the Chintamani Nataka Samajam of Rajahmundry patronised by Sri Gunneswar Rao. And the dramas of Andhra Nataka Pitamaha Sri Dharmavaram Krishnamachary were written for his Company at Bellary. What is interesting to note, however, is that, with the new organisation of the Stage, the writing of plays was quickened, or, to be truer perhaps, it so began. And here, though Sanskrit dramas were translated, Rao Bahadur K. Veeresalingam’s ‘Sankuntala’ having become a classic, immensely popular on the stage, it was independent writings with ‘Puranic’ motifs that were the sustaining fare for the Andhra Stage. Theatres sprang up in important centres, and plays were produced at regular intervals.

The Influence of the Parsi Stage was apparent m the style of production as well as in the composition of the drama itself. Songs in the play were written in the Parsi style–the ‘Parsi Mattu.’ It further inherited the tradition of presenting the play gorgeously. The velvet decorated dress, lavish settings and scenery, and above all miracle-performing by what was popularly known as wire-work, were the instruments through which the drama was interpreted. Acting however was never subordinated to the rest of the showmanship, certain of the actors achieving immense fame. Music too never dominated; it was mostly confined to reciting the verses–sung with only the ‘Raga,’ time not being kept. On the whole, these early productions were great successes in the artistic way as well as in the financial. Sincere acting, gorgeous scenery, appropriate music and fairly well-written plays combined to create a living Andhra Stage.

The second period in the history of the Andhra Stage, from about 1919 to 1929, witnessed a qualitative change in the structure of the Stage. It was the emergence of the ‘Star performers.’ Good actors there were previously, but none who were exclusive box-office ‘draws.’ Associations still existed–the most famous being Mothay Narayana Rao’s Sitaramanjaneya Samajam at Ellore and the Mylavaram Company at Bezwada and the Rama- vilas Sabha at Tenali–often employing actors on monthly salaries. New plays were still staged with adequate equipment. Yet it was no longer the play and the Company that drew the audience but the performance of particular actors, albeit ably assisted by other actors in the minor roles. ‘Savitri’ and ‘Sakuntala’ were to be seen when performed by Yadavalli Suryanarayana and Uppuluri Sanjiva Rao, and ‘Krishna Tulabharam’ when Stanam Narasimha Rao acted Satyabhama. Gradually and imperceptibly it came to pass that, whatever part the ‘star’ took, and whatsoever the drama, people flocked to witness the particular actor’s performance, and thus inevitably came about the qualitative change in the production of the Telugu play. It was the ‘star’ that mattered, not the interpretation of the drama as a whole. The ‘star’ exhibiting himself prominently, and trying to score off at the expense of others, quite often distorted the play.

Nevertheless, so long as the Associations were maintained in which the ‘stars’ were also members, and so long as each play was performed with the same set of actors and scenic arrangements, there was no too grotesque distortion of the plays. The production was still artistic enough; and notwithstanding brilliant individual performances which overshadowed the whole play, sufficient attention was being devoted to the production of the piece as a whole.

This period was the Golden Age of the Andhra Stage. The lure of ‘stars’ made the Stage financially very successful, while the maintenance of Companies by patrons of art who did not treat their activities as financial propositions made the production of new plays and successful presentation of old masterpieces still artistic triumphs. This was the period, further, in which a happy synthetic effect was achieved: brilliant acting from individuals, fruitful and happy co-operation from the minor cast, scenery which was subdued to acting but was yet a help to a proper interpretation of the play, appropriate music, and above all organised production.

But towards the end of this period emerged a new personality, K. Ramanatha Sastry. It was his advent that really started the decadence of the Andhra Stage. Ramanatha Sastry’s golden voice drowned every other aspect of his performance. People flocked to hear him sing, and there were no illusions about his acting ability. For the first time, music as such came into prominence on the Stage. Since what mattered was his singing, it did not matter what he sang. The cheap gramophone made his singing wildly popular, and the audiences clamoured for the popular tunes, whether or not they were from the play being staged at the moment. The drama was sacrificed for his music. He never fought against this degenerate tendency: on the other hand, he actively encouraged it as it suited his true inclinations and his inferior histrionic talent. He, with half a dozen puppets who could not even stand on the stage, would stage a drama–and get away with it. For in the midst of the play, the audience perhaps would haul him up, make him sing all his gramophone songs and walk out of the hall quite contented, leaving the play to take care of itself.

Even prior to the development of these chaotic conditions a change was gradually taking place in the methods of production, appropriate to the new tendencies in the staging of plays. For with the rise of ‘stars’ famous for their interpretation of particular characters, local Companies got into the habit of getting up a play with local players and inviting the ‘stars’ for the chief roles. T. Raghavachary, undoubtedly one of the greatest actors of the Indian Stage, was a pioneer in this direction. He unfortunately had no Company of his own which he could take out on a tour in the province. Rather he allowed himself to be engaged by different Companies to take part in their productions. This was the first step towards the bringing together of actors for the night’s performance, eliminating the experience of previous rehearsals with the rest of the team. Often the ‘star’ would arrive just before the rise of the curtain and scarcely have enough time even to ‘make up.’ But the fact that a ‘star’ was coming to take part along with a smoothly working Company made it possible for the system to work somewhat satisfactorily for a time.

But really there were seeds of degeneracy. From the hiring out of leading actors it was not a long step to hiring out almost every actor, major and minor. It was, as a matter of fact, becoming a custom to eliminate as many of the minor parts as possible in staging a play. Financial mismanagement and the exorbitant demands of the actors, who had got into the habit of being hired out for individual performances, destroyed the old Companies.

There remained only unattached ‘stars’: a few of them would combine to stage a drama and then disperse. At this stage a new person came to the forefront: he was the Contractor. It was he who contemplated the production of a particular play at a particular place and arranged it by hiring out actors who in his opinion would be ‘good investment.’

The third period in the history of the Andhra Stage is the period of the Contractor. The Contractor inevitably is a person who is interested in making as much profit as is feasible out of this venture, and to him who is the arbiter of artistic values on the Andhra Stage, the presentation of a play was a purely commercial transaction. The audience would flock on ‘star’ value, the ‘stars’ might be assembled, but where was suitable scenery or dress? But anyhow who cared for it? Ludicrous indeed were the results of this system. Plays were so mutilated that they became grotesque caricatures of themselves. There was absolutely no attempt at presenting a play, for there were only disjointed acting and much singing by a few popular artistes. The stage was bare, except for a rickety chair or two now and then, and for a few painted curtains that were available at the local theatre. In this state of affairs obviously there could be no attempt at producing any new play. Nor could there be even a systematic presentation of the old ones. The more ‘stars’ it was possible to cram into a play, the better it was for the Contractor: for some minor part a ‘star’ could be hired out cheaply, and on the strength of advertisement the audience could be fooled into attending the show. On the other side, the more contracts the ‘star’ had, the better it was for him financially, and cases are on record where a ‘star’ was hired out to play two different roles on the same night in two different towns!

The Stage was a chaos. The contractors were often men of straw, their only interest being the reaping of a harvest out of the venture, and they would disappear with the collections without disbursing, or advertise certain ‘stars’ without really fixing them up and thus try to defraud the public. On the other side, the ‘stars’ sometimes reacted by refusing to act even when present unless they were fully paid beforehand, or noting the helplessness of the contractor, would demand more remuneration just before the rise of the curtain. Often the contractor and the ‘star’ fell out and came for arbitration to the audience: sometimes the audience would get restive and hit at the actors and the contractor. Innumerable were the instances in which the performance ended in a scuffle.

One very ugly feature of this state of affairs was the deliberate mutilation of the play. The actors intent on finishing the playas quickly as possible would skip portions of the play, and at one time some enterprising members of the audience watching vigilantly with a copy of the drama in hand would compel the performers to do justice to the performance and prevent such skipping.

There has been an honourable exception to this tendency of Companies disintegrating into ‘stars’ and there arising mutilation of plays. D. V. Subba Rao has maintained his own Company; he has refused to hire out actors or be hired out himself. It is a delight to watch a drama staged by his Company for the smoothness and the unison which are achieved in the production. His example, however, has not proved contagious.

The Theatre cannot be expected to thrive in this atmosphere even in the normal course of circumstances. This decadent Stage, however, was called to face the powerful competition of the Talkie. No wonder the Stage succumbed even without making an effort at raising its head before this onslaught: for was not the Stage in other countries, even more strongly organised, quailing before this ‘menace’?

The revival and reformation of our Theatre is an urgent necessity; specially now when solving ‘Crossword Puzzles’ and playing at cards are turning out to be the intellectual pursuits of our intelligentsia. The educative and propagandic value of the Theatre has been found to be immense everywhere in the world and an elevation in our taste can best be attempted through the Stage.

Further, the Stage is the one institution in which a synthesis of all the fine arts, from music to painting, can be achieved. It gives scope for the exercise of every artistic talent and every creative ability.

The fear that the Stage cannot stand the competition of the Screen is baseless. Even today people do flock to see plays though wretchedly staged. The potential market exists: only it must be properly exploited. For, after all, the Screen can never displace the Stage. The Stage brings the audience and the players into contact with each other on the living human plane while the Screen has only a mechanical significance. The Screen can never therefore generate the warmth of feeling or appeal to the deeper emotions as the Stage can. The appeal of the Theatre will never be lost. But we must be careful to avoid one mistake. In the name of Realism, the Theatre too has been made mechanical. Mere realistic-mechanical perfection can never draw people away from the Screen to the Stage, for the Screen with its greater fluidity in time and space can beat the Stage precisely in this line.

There are innumerable obstacles m the path of a revival of the Stage. In recent years, theatre after theatre has been converted into a Picture Palace so that now it is rather difficult to secure decent halls to stage dramas. A house built exclusively for the performance of plays is a necessity. None the less it does not seem to be possible to persuade people in the near future to invest on playhouses exclusively meant for the staging of plays. The existing facilities must be carefully mobilised and utilised. A second difficulty has been found to be the lack of suitable plays. However, the problem is more in the nature of a vicious circle. Plays, it has been the experience, do not descend from heaven ready-made. A living Stage is a necessity before proper plays can be written. We therefore have to make a beginning somewhere. The best solution to this problem seems to be to adapt some foreign plays and make a beginning. In course of time, independent plays of the required type will certainly be written and produced.

A third difficulty is finance. Obviously we ought not to allow the Theatre to be made a financial gambling venture. What little capital is available is finding its way to the Screen. The plays that are to be produced, therefore, must be cheap as well as artistic. Dependence on ‘light and shade’ effects rather than on solid scenery will be of help to some extent.

One very serious drawback is that we lack a capital city which alone will permit the organisation of a permanent Theatre at a soul-nourishing place. From the beginning our Associations have been adapted to touring and they must continue to be so organised. The equipment therefore must be such as can be utilised in varying kinds of playhouses. The Andhra University is best fitted to organise a permanent Theatre. Unfortunately nothing serious has been done. One model Theatre at least has to be built.

Not merely are the plays to be produced cheaply, but, if the Theatre is to compete with the Screer properly, the rates of admission too will have to be reduced so that the average person can exercise a real preferance an4 not choose the Screen because of its cheapness.

Notwithstanding all these obstacles, it is comparatively easy to revive the Stage in Andhra. For it has inherited glorious traditions of play-production. The standard of acting is very high; the audiences are sensitive and responding. Music, except for a brief period, never formed the main attraction. Enough material exists to re-create the Stage.

The time has come, therefore, when an effort for a revival of the Theatre is imperative; the production of one or two plays as isolated efforts will not solve the problem. It must be a concerted movement. It has been the experience the world over, and it is specially true of the conditions in Andhra, that progress can come only through the efforts of amateur enthusiasts. The professional actor is too much interested in his career to be interested in any cultural movement. The commercial Theatre is the bane of artistic enterprises.

There is immense local talent that is now allowed to run to waste. A movement that can harness this talent is an urgent necessity.

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