I mentioned in my last article (the one with the yearend poll) that theatre people “tend to be the hardest to please”. That was in the context of us liking plays performed by other people. Not too long ago, a couple of incidents made me realise that this is true in more than one context.
I think us theatre folk, particularly the old guard, believe it is mandatory and somewhat fashionable to complain about our circumstances. Of course we don’t get subsidies or government support. Of course theatre isn’t too lucrative. But how will behaving downtrodden and cribbing about our lot change that? Particularly when we knew exactly what we were getting into.
Personal touch
Prithvi Theatre has this fabulous tradition of meeting with theatre group heads a few times a year. The idea is to share the state of affairs and to address grievances, if any. It is a personal touch which is exclusive to the venue. Beer and chips are served, as information is exchanged. It’s a fraternal and necessary affair.
Unfortunately, a lot of people show up to make sure that their attendance is rewarded with more performance dates, or to lament about how there just aren’t enough performance dates.
I last heard that Prithvi gets applications from over 350 groups, and they have 250 days to fit them all into (more than most other venues), sometimes with up to three or four shows a day, all the while attempting to maintain some quality control and amiable relationships with all the professionals in the field. It is not an enviable task.
Ever since I have gotten into curating theatre for a couple of experimental venues (including The Cuckoo Club, which has now cultivated quite an audience), I’ve faced a fair amount of discontentment too. “Rehearsal charges are too high”, “terms are unfair”, “set-up time isn’t enough”, “your venue didn’t promote our show well”, “why can’t you give us weekend dates”, and so on and so forth.
It’s a bit thankless for venues, honestly. Which is why the stray compliment or gesture of gratitude is so celebrated. And which is why the younger, hungry theatre groups are actually faring so well in these venues. They’re flexible, and frankly just happy to get a platform, so they go all out within limited resources.
I look around at the majority of flourishing theatre groups and it becomes rather clear that positivity and resourcefulness are absolutely necessary to continue enjoying what you do.
When an established theatre group takes a chance on a little venue with limitations, or takes any other sort of risk, be it with choice of content or format of performance, theatre benefits. Being proactive is so much better than being upset.
When a few theatre group heads came to me and had a calm discussion about financial terms for the venue I was curating, and most importantly offered constructive suggestions, we made amends within the week.
Not that venues are without their faults. Recently a new space refused to serve a theatre group tea because, believe it or not, they asked for tea twice in a five-hour rehearsal.
And an outstation theatre group had to suffer losses because their venue had double booked a slot.
Grow together
These are basics, but then again, everyone is finding their footing. In both cases, a lack of candid communication about the incident led to relationships getting sour. Communication is key. Groups and venues can grow together, rather than in an “us and them” environment.
We’re just back from three sold-out shows at Oddbird Theatre in Delhi, another fine example of a venue that thrives in being a partner rather than just a service provider. New ideas are encouraged, risks are taken, genuine concerns about cost-saving and profitability are shared over a beer, and the vibe is just conducive for creativity.
They have a fabulous tradition of their own too. The audience stays around for a bit, getting a drink and an opportunity to genuinely mingle with the cast and crew. They love it and we love it and it breaks down walls.
In this run itself, people watched the first show, built equations with the team after, and brought back people for the third show. We were thrilled.
More venues need to learn from the likes of Prithvi, and Oddbird, and The Cuckoo Club (which is a descendant of The Hive, which was a hipster haven for experimental theatre) to engage more, and emotionally invest more. And more groups need to rediscover the reasons we got into this in the first place.