Internal struggles on stage

Iam a usurper/Nothing is mine/And so/I claim everything.’’
There are four kinds of ‘usurping’ or violations in Koogu (Shout): it begins with the simple, naive violation of a child-woman who climbs walls to watch the English dance, but dismisses it as ‘’not our culture.’’ She instills the thought in her own grandchild that dancing is “cheap” — a variation of the sour grapes fable — and again, a violation of the child’s ability and right to experience the freedom and joy of dance.
The next violation is that of religion, which binds, restricts and removes the “protestant” — an intended pun — from the regular sphere of living, unless he/she confirms to its owndictates.Thethirdistheviolation by and of the state, be it Indian or British, drawing a clear parallel between the hanging of Bhagat Singh and Afzal Guru; state violation also includes the grabbing of tribal heritage and turning it into a monkey dance of sorts for the ‘civilised.’ There is also violation of individual freedom by the state, seeking proof of ‘‘patriotism” by singing the national anthem in a police station.
The last element of violation is when a 10-year-old child experiences sexual abuse from a trusted member of the family. A 10-year-old child is also made to beg on the streets.
“The play is still evolving and will keep doing so. Some of it is biographical.Thereisnofixedscript,”says actor director-playwright Anish Victor, whose 21 years of theatre have pushed him to a level where all he wants to do is break out and do his own thing. This play — more like an interaction — has the audience chatting with him and opens seamlessly into a theatrical dance beginning.
“French dancer Michel Casanovas and I were discussing the various fights we have within and outside ourselves as artists and people. The play is a paean to the warrior within us,’” says Victor.Eachlevelintheplayisabattle, performed effortlessly, swinging through speech, song, poetry, movement, dance, rhythm and gestures.
Though there are segments which are light in the play, most of it is dark, explorative, conversational andconvincing.There are lines such as “The man sees the face of his enemy, his friend, his healer, his destruction — and it looks like him.” Deep with meaning, simple in phrasing and delivery.
Victor has opted to use black as his costume, blending with the drapes and with the play’s revenge-of-the oppressed tone. The tone is strong enough to make even the right wing think, with provocative lines, contexts and movement design.
The sole set, a tree, can signify the Tree of Knowledge, the Tree of Learning, the Tree of Life, the apple tree that tempted Eve, even a family tree. Language — English, Tamil, Hindi, Persian, Latin, Kannada — has also been explored in various ways, with poetry, rhyme, repetitions and tonal variations.
There is a bit where pure physical theatre takes over with Allessandro Moreschi’s Ave Maria playing in the background and Victor’s movement design and performance reflect excruciating conflict of all kinds — a response to all the violations. The attempt to involve the audience and make it direct, to“remove the line between performance and conversation” as Victor put sit, is very effective and makes this insightful production a must-watch.


Anish Victor Michel Casanovas Sandbox Collective A one-man show that takes you through a journey from the inner self to the external self and ends with a combining of both elements in an external locked-in embrace. The intense interactive performance uses music, dance, movement and story-telling. Feb 23 and 25, 3.30 and 6.30 Yours Truly Alma, off CMH Road bookmyshow.com