School shows are a dime a
dozen these days. Some make it to the headlines, others don’t. A few, very few
in fact, go beyond splashing colour in the news and make a name for themselves.
By default therefore, older shows are more reputed and hence well known. Their
more recent counterparts, on the other hand, are doomed for obscurity.
Inevitable in one sense, tragic in another, some may say.
But why, we can legitimately
ask. Is it to do only with age and reputation? Shouldn’t a concert (or any
other show, for that matter) be assessed on the basis of merit and the message
it brings out? Shouldn’t the criterion be effort, not age? And by that same
token, can’t a new show be inferior to a veteran, whether in terms of audiences
or critics? And can’t the opposite be true as well? The answers, I believe, are
there for all to see.
What springs to mind when we
think of the performing arts? Concerts, obviously. That’s the main if not the
only way through which contemporary audiences get to see everything, aurally
and visually. That’s also the only way through which schools display their
talent, and through which they give out the meaning that’s central to whatever
concert they organise. This is the story of a school and a concert, how it has
held its own ground, and how it’s improved, gradually but eventually, over the
years.
On Saturday, October 8 at the
BMICH from 5.58 to 7.30 PM, the Kandyan Dancing troupe of Lyceum International
School will present "Maathra 9". What it will unveil and what its central message
is are questions to be answered later, but for now, here’s my verdict: it’s one
of the most significant concerts of its kind organised by a school in Sri Lanka
and, without a doubt, one of the most daunting. With an almost enviable blend of
the local and the oriental, it will bring together our dance traditions with
those of our cultural fraternity in the subcontinent.
No, it’s not just to do with
the items in the show. It’s to do with the organisation as well. Lyceum has
clearly gone out far in terms of its commitment to the performing arts. That
shows in how it’s set about the items for this year. "Maathra 9" will feature
performances by almost all its branches: from Nugegoda, Panadura, Wattala,
Gampaha, Ratnapura, and Nuwara Eliya. That’s more than 500 students and more
than eight teachers coordinating them. Not an easy task, particularly since
they’ll meet for only about two or three days for rehearsals before the main performance.
During the last nine years or
so, the organisers have done what they can to disseminate "Maathra 9" throughout
the country, without keeping it in-house. While it draws a lot from its own
coordinators and students, there’s little to no doubt that the show isn’t
inbred and therefore, relates to the outside world.
As for the items, they provoke comment on their own right. To name a few, there will be a re-enactment of the story of Gutthila and Musila (“Ranganaliyan”) along with a meditation on the art of clay pottery (“Sakaporuwa”) by Lyceum Panadura; a “Pol Katu” dance by Lyceum Gampaha; a retake on “Ravana” by Lyceum Wattala; and items on the historical import of the cane industry (“Wewal”), our mask culture (“Yakku”), and that timeless, classic fable “Ambalame Pina” by Lyceum Ratnapura. It won’t be about dancing only of course, and in keeping with the spirit of what came out in previous years there are items dedicated to pure sound as well: through the bera pada, the thammattama, and the flute, once instruments used for the service of the gods, now “secularised” for the benefit of lay audiences.
"Maathra" is “new”, which is to
say that it’s more recent. That however doesn’t take away but adds to its
significance, a point highlighted by how many leaps and bounds it’s gone
through within the last decade.
There’s more.
I spoke with several officials
and coordinators, on and off during rehearsals, to try and catch a glimpse of
what’s in store. Not being a performer myself, I suppose I have my share of
pitfalls when it comes to assessing events of this kind. I therefore spoke to
Rajiv Ekanayake, Principal of Lyceum Ratnapura and the stage-manager for this
year’s show and asked him some pertinent questions. He had the answers. I noted
them down.
I began with what "Maathra 9" as
a whole represents. “It’s about fusion, simply put. It interweaves the
traditional and the contemporary. It brings together our three dance traditions:
udarata, pahatharata, and Sabaragamuwa. It also brings in other traditions, for
instance the Kathakali. Yes, I know fusion is a convenient cliché to use when
describing events like this, but at the end of the day it congeals into what
that term means: tradition moulded to suit modernity.”
According to Ekanayake, what
will come out of "Maathra 9" is perception, that is the perception of the teachers
and coordinators involved. Having actively participated in the show for the
last three or four years, he predictably lends credence to what he says of it.
And it’s not merely about its items or how they’re relayed but how students will
get at what he calls “relative perfection” in the end. “There’s nothing called ‘perfect’
in this imperfect world of ours,” he smiles, “We have room for error and so do our
students. On the other hand, I try to ensure that the final item is free from
those crass, discernible mistakes which can get spotted by the audience at
once.”
Ekanayake is the stage-manager.
He’s not alone. The Kandyan Dancing Coordinators in every participating branch
are involved, and not just for the performance. They will be there,
synchronising the show in tandem with a preconceived script and trying to attain
perfection (or in dancing parlance, “Moksha”) in every item. They will handle
probably the toughest part of the show: bringing together more than 500
students while being mindful of their individual strengths and shortcomings.
Not easy, you must admit.
One other name stands out in
this regard: Rasika Kothalawala, Kandyan Dancing Coordinator at Lyceum Nugegoda
and overall Coordinator for MAATHRA 9. He has a way of instilling what he
expects in his students, a way of unearthing what they have and a way of polishing
them all to near-perfection. He also possesses (and this is based on personal
experience) an eye for talent (or the lack thereof) and an eye for those who
stand out. I notice this in the way he directs his students, spotting out with
ease those who are slow and those who are quick. In a medium as dependent on
movement and sure-footedness as dancing, I suppose that’s a quality both needed
and privileged.
All that of course congeals
into one important factor: the overall thrust of the show. I believe Ekanayake
put it best when he said that there’s no theme as such for "Maathra 9", to
differentiate one year’s performances from the next. “With practice, you can do
wonders. That’s what makes it what it has become and what it will remain
as in future,” Ekanayake says by way of summing it all up. A stickler for
perfection himself, he doubtless would know how each year brings on an
improvement on what came out in the last, not only in terms of the movements,
the music, or the performance itself, but in terms of how everything gets
together to contribute meaningfully to our cultural firmament.
Children love to perform.
They love to flaunt. They rarely pretend. Once you get them going, you can’t
stop them. I have come to believe that at the end of the day, all cultures
become rhythmic. They move to a certain beat and this beat, the children
understand and take to. That is probably why "Maathra 9" will promise as much (if
not more) as what it gave in the last nine years, and why everyone invited to and
attending the final performance will look up, smile, and move on.
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