Sitting in the front row has its privileges. Not only does it give you a sense of closeness, it also allows a more in-depth look into a theatrical performance. But what does a privileged position have to do with a recitation production, which is to be heard and heard alone? The thought flickered through my mind for a while before it was driven away by the surprise entrance of the performers of Projonmo Kantho, through the middle rows of the auditorium.
I realised that here was a show that would test not only my sense of hearing, but my sense of sight and sense of wonder too. I slouched back in my chair for more surprises. The first full-length production of Projonmo Kantho, titled "Feriwala" (street seller), is all about doing things that haven’t been done before and stretching the limits of conventional poetry readings. Zillur Rahman Shohag, who scripted and co-directed the show, rightly described it as an “experiment.” Divided into strictly-timed segments, the show was an attempt to bring poetry to those who wouldn’t necessarily go for a conventional literary event and to convey messages tailored to suit their surroundings. The performance began in a manner typical of an interactive theatre, and ended before anyone could think of it being too ropy.
Shohag set the tone for the show by reciting the prologue and underlining its central themes – love in its many faces, life in its entirety, and revolution, when there’s a need for one. Throughout the event, he played the role of a storyteller, both a compère and an intermediary at the same time. Sometimes he introduced the characters, like that of an enchained poet yanked into the stage by two soldiers, sometimes connected the storylines, or supplied missing elements.
There were more than a dozen poems of a total of nine poets, recited either in part or full, highlighting the themes. "Adhora," for instance, a poem by Arif Hyder, fusing elements of monologue and dialogue, narrates the story of a poet who meets a lady looking for a shelter from the rain. They begin a conversation and, as described in the postscript, a relationship too.
The next two poems, "Shona-Bou" (Sweet Wife) and "Manusher Manchitro" (Maps of Individuals) – made to look like two parts of a single poem – narrate the story of two lovers now leading separate lives. They express feelings of longing, grief and emptiness; their longing for each other is so intense it borders on the sensual. The poems were written respectively by Abul Hossen and Rudra Mohammad Shahidullah, and recited and acted out by Rezwan Shuvo and Nur Nigar Sultana.
Other poems of note included "Nesha" (Addiction), by Mofazzal Karim, "Amalkanti," the oft-recited poem of Sunil Gangopadhyay, "Kobir Mrittu" (Death of a Poet), by the same poet, and "Ami Kingbodontir Kotha Bolchhi" (Here Speaking of the Legends), by Abu Zafar Obaidullah.
"Nesha," written in the form of an epistle, highlights the complexities of modern life creating distance between a loving father and his unsympathetic son. Masum Chowdhury, one of the show’s co-directors, and Ahmed Imtiaz Sabbir took turns to portray the two characters. Other performers deserving of mention are: Abdul Alim, Moniruzzaman Sumon, Zakir Sumon, Mahmuda Rubaiya Swarna, Rakibul Hasan Shobuz, Mantasa Tasnim Urmi, and Asmaul Husna (Simi).
However, the strength of the show lies in its crafty use of lights, costumes, and music, choreography and set design – enhancing its visual appeal to the audience members. It was dramatic and stylistic, to say the least, without the irritating modishness that experimental shows sometimes end up having.
The directors were clearly influenced by trends wafting in from outside of the country, especially from Europe, where "pure" recitation sessions have become somewhat passé. Conventional readings have been replaced by literary cabarets, blending readings with dance, music, and fun.
As for now, Feriwala, which had its first run on October 31 before a near sell-out crowd in Shawkat Osman Memorial Auditorium, looks set to enjoy numerous outings in the coming days and change the way we think of recitation. Projonmo Kantho, with its freewheeling attitude to matters of arts, can well be the mainstay of that change.
