A couple leave Ranga Shankara, the well-known theatre in Bangalore, disappointed that they cannot get tickets for the premiere of Roysten Abel's latest production, The Kitchen, on Thursday. An argument is in the air, and Abel decides to intervene. "I feel good and bad - good that the show is sold out and bad that it's leading to an argument," he says, beckoning them and arranging for two tickets, thereby earning the incredulous woman's eternal gratitude ("I'm getting my ticket from THE Roysten Abel," she exclaims).
With his spectacular The Manganiyar Seduction garnering worldwide acclaim, it is no surprise that tickets for the new production are sold out. But The Kitchen, Abel says, is quite different. "The only similarity with Manganiyar Seduction is that the performers will be in tiers."
Inspiration for the show came from a visit to Sufi mystic and poet Jalaluddin Rumi's tomb in Konya, Turkey in 2009. When Abel entered the kitchen, he says he realised there were three levels of cooking - the first was the real cooking that would happen in two giant pots below the raised platform on which Rumi and his disciples would be praying; the next was the "cooking" of the novices who would be kneeling in prayer outside the door, not eating or drinking, until Rumi decided they were ready to join him, which could take two or seven days; and the last was the dervishes whirling, who were "cooking" on a cosmic plain. "It was mad... that stayed with me for five years," he says. He adds that it is also a reflection of the present day culture of fast-food, where people do not have the time to cook elaborate meals and savour them.
The seed planted then has become a unique production, with a couple cooking payasam (a kind of kheer) on stage, and their emotions that simmer and boil, to the rhythm of 12 drummers at different levels playing the mizhavu, a percussion instrument from Kerala shaped like a large copper vessel, with a covered brim. The mizhavu is different in that it is considered a Brahmin - it even has a thread ceremony - and is the only instrument allowed into a temple's sanctum sanctorum. Traditionally, it is part of temple performances, such as Koodiyattam. Abel says he wanted to bring the mizhavu out of the background. He also chose it because it resembles a kitchen vessel. "The mizhavu by itself is grand and one looks for idioms to translate it into the contemporary," he says.
Another quirky touch comes in the end, when the payasam cooked by the actors is served to the audience, adding to the multi-sensory experience! At the end of the day, I'm a small boy who likes to watch spectacles, Abel says, smiling.
Work on The Kitchen started last June. Set conceptualisation and design took six months, while rehearsals started in February. All the mizhavu players are from Kalamandalam, the renowned school of arts in Kerala, also Abel's home state. Ironically, the National School of Drama alumnus says he has not staged any of his productions there, though he would love to, because he does not want to get into the "arts politics" of the state. Is he nervous before the premiere? "Well, yeah, but that happens," he says, puffing away at his second cigarette.
The show starts five hours later. The tempo of the drumming is slow initially, with only the artistes on the lowest rung of the innovative mizhavu-shaped set playing. The couple starts cooking almost immediately and by the time the second ingredient is put in, a delicious aroma wafts through the auditorium. The exchanges between the couple are not audible because of the mizhavu and neither are they intended to be - emotions are conveyed through expressions, raised decibels and glances.
The buildup takes time, unlike The Manganiyar Seduction where the audience was drawn in from the word go, and a few start getting restless. But the second half dispels all doubts of whether it is a worthy successor to Abel's other productions. The actors seem peripheral because once the tempo has gathered pace, one cannot focus on anything except the percussion, rendered masterfully. The final crescendo, complete with Abel's brilliant work with lights, is amazing and the standing ovation is well-deserved. But it doesn't end here. Once you are outside the auditorium, the cast is busy distributing steaming cups of delicious payasam. A very satisfying end to an innovative production.
The Kitchen's last show in Bangalore is at 7.30 pm today at Ranga Shankara. For details of when it will be in your city, check facebook.com/TheKitchenOfLifeByRoystenAbel
With his spectacular The Manganiyar Seduction garnering worldwide acclaim, it is no surprise that tickets for the new production are sold out. But The Kitchen, Abel says, is quite different. "The only similarity with Manganiyar Seduction is that the performers will be in tiers."
Inspiration for the show came from a visit to Sufi mystic and poet Jalaluddin Rumi's tomb in Konya, Turkey in 2009. When Abel entered the kitchen, he says he realised there were three levels of cooking - the first was the real cooking that would happen in two giant pots below the raised platform on which Rumi and his disciples would be praying; the next was the "cooking" of the novices who would be kneeling in prayer outside the door, not eating or drinking, until Rumi decided they were ready to join him, which could take two or seven days; and the last was the dervishes whirling, who were "cooking" on a cosmic plain. "It was mad... that stayed with me for five years," he says. He adds that it is also a reflection of the present day culture of fast-food, where people do not have the time to cook elaborate meals and savour them.
More From This Section
Another quirky touch comes in the end, when the payasam cooked by the actors is served to the audience, adding to the multi-sensory experience! At the end of the day, I'm a small boy who likes to watch spectacles, Abel says, smiling.
Work on The Kitchen started last June. Set conceptualisation and design took six months, while rehearsals started in February. All the mizhavu players are from Kalamandalam, the renowned school of arts in Kerala, also Abel's home state. Ironically, the National School of Drama alumnus says he has not staged any of his productions there, though he would love to, because he does not want to get into the "arts politics" of the state. Is he nervous before the premiere? "Well, yeah, but that happens," he says, puffing away at his second cigarette.
The show starts five hours later. The tempo of the drumming is slow initially, with only the artistes on the lowest rung of the innovative mizhavu-shaped set playing. The couple starts cooking almost immediately and by the time the second ingredient is put in, a delicious aroma wafts through the auditorium. The exchanges between the couple are not audible because of the mizhavu and neither are they intended to be - emotions are conveyed through expressions, raised decibels and glances.
The buildup takes time, unlike The Manganiyar Seduction where the audience was drawn in from the word go, and a few start getting restless. But the second half dispels all doubts of whether it is a worthy successor to Abel's other productions. The actors seem peripheral because once the tempo has gathered pace, one cannot focus on anything except the percussion, rendered masterfully. The final crescendo, complete with Abel's brilliant work with lights, is amazing and the standing ovation is well-deserved. But it doesn't end here. Once you are outside the auditorium, the cast is busy distributing steaming cups of delicious payasam. A very satisfying end to an innovative production.
The Kitchen's last show in Bangalore is at 7.30 pm today at Ranga Shankara. For details of when it will be in your city, check facebook.com/TheKitchenOfLifeByRoystenAbel