Women in cinema, as artistes and subjects, is now a topic of much discussion. The same, however, cannot be said of theatre. A Mangai’s Acting Up traces the history of women's/feminist theatre in India. “This book is a conversation,” says Mangai, after the launch in Chennai recently. “It is a dialogue between theatre practitioners and women’s groups, between activists and artistes. More importantly, it is an attempt to legitimise the genre of women’s theatre.”

The book marks the ’80s as the decade where the organised women’s movements led to a search for expression in theatre. ‘Theatre for social change’ was the zeitgeist; Janam’s Aurat , Theatre Union’s Om Swaha , and Jyoti Mhapsekar’s Mulgi Zali Ho ( A Girl is Born ) were popular plays that explored themes of dowry, sexual harassment and education of girls. Venues were mostly outdoor or makeshift; and approaches to performances varied, as they intended not only to create awareness but also stir and awaken. Aditi Desai’s work in Gujarat is worth special mention. Desai moved to political theatre hesitantly but worked with women in the tribal areas of Sabarkantha and Panchmahal. The plays were staged under moonlight with no paraphernalia to jazz it up. Desai integrated tribal practices with elements of modern theatre and took up health, education and human rights issues to ensure practical solutions for women in villages. Inadvertently, her approach added to the repertoire of theatre practice.

However, this seamless link between theatre and activism wasn’t fully exploited. Mangai says, “Those who ought to be fellow travellers in art and politics end up not always so; disdaining cultural work, and demanding it to be of simple functional relevance is disheartening to its practitioners who are convinced of its fundamental political importance.” Was this gulf the impetus for the book? She admits part of it did stem from her own trajectory — from a left/activist background to theatre. She perceives this move as a gradual extension, not a resignation from mainstream activism. “The impetus was to bring this body of work together, to outline what hasn’t really been recognised. It began with my Fulbright in 2004 when I was away from India, and that’s when the similarity in the work of many practitioners unravelled. It was a book waiting to be written,” she says.

Akin to the approaches in gender studies, the book brings together work of women under rubrics such as ‘Revisiting Myths,’ ‘Negotiations with Classical Texts,’ and ‘Female Impersonation.’ They are mainly attempts at recovering or re-imagining historical figures to give them agency since history has rarely been her-story. From the austere Manimekalai to the bold and irreverent bard Avvai, playwrights have challenged notions around femininity and womanhood by adapting these stories to stage.

What is on stage is also a reflection of that which is behind it. ‘Women Performers’ talks of the challenges women have had to face to prevail and create in the world of theatre. It is also sensitive to the dynamics of class, caste and context, and how they shape experiences. “When I got dropped home at 11 pm or 12 am after rehearsals, there were all these prying eyes in my neighbourhood. I used to make sure whoever dropped me had a word with my husband. Liberal is not something that just emerges; you build it through your negotiations,” Mangai says. However, a factor hindering the recognition of feminist theatre as a genre has been resistance from practitioners themselves. They refrained from being labelled ‘feminist’ and there are reasons for it. For some being called a woman director is to be placed in a ghetto; for others, it is precarious to assert feminism while being in an industry that is yet to embrace it; and perhaps for the rest, being in a liberal social milieu makes it less immediate to articulate a feminist standpoint. “Many of my peers began with a political intention, but moved away. I had a similar beginning but sustained because I found the rest of my social world less liberal,” she says.

Talking of social worlds, an important play of Mangai’s that doesn’t find mention in the book is Aanmai O Aanmai ( Macho O Macho ), which critiques the Dravidian movement in Tamil Nadu from a gender-based point of view. Many leaders of the movement couched the issue of language, a deeply political one then, in gendered terms. Hindi was projected as Draupadi, the one to be disrobed or compared to a prostitute. Tamil was accorded the status of the respected wife, and English the desired courtesan. It was a demanding play, says Mangai, not only because it denounced the ruling party of the time, but also as some of her closest friends and colleagues were committed to the movement.

Differences and disagreement with colleagues are an essential part of theatre, and especially activist theatre, which Mangai practises. However, criticising one aspect does not mean the entire movement is wrong. This statement rings profoundly true. It is perhaps what is missing in our understanding of criticism today. And that is the biggest takeaway from the book.

Niharika Mallimadugula is a Chennai-based freelance writer

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