However this month I do have fascinating stuff to share on my other play, which recently popped into existence, so this month's post will be a sidestep into another play-world.
As I mentioned last month I was exploring multiple stories within a single location across time. The trigger for this was the discovery of a really interesting space, Fort Aguada in Goa. The most fascinating thing about the space was that it seemed almost polymorphic. In fact even without considering history, the space in present times shape-shifts quite alarmingly.
I visited the tourist side of it, the area near the lighthouse, which predictably was hot, derelict and full of tourists. It was pretty depressing, the kind of sadness you feel when you see stone ruins. (I got the same feeling when I was at Elephanta caves. There's something profoundly gloomy about seeing broken statues, litter and metal railings steering tourist traffic appropriately away from ten meter drops and uncovered wells.)
The other side of the fort was occupied by a five star beach resort. Strictly off limits for the budget backpacker. The stone here was neatly reworked and polished to create a nice colonial feel and was inset with some pretty nifty electrical lights. Typical five star lawns, with five star daddies and mummies and kids all on holiday. This part of the fort sat right on Sinquerim beach and by night is dazzling, visible all the way up to Baga. It's also an awesome walk in the evenings. There's this ship anchored near the bastion for some reason, and it gives the place a really magical feel.
The side away from the lighthouse, is a prison. I tried heading there, but there were guards every twenty meters, giving me dirty looks. So I decided against going all the way to the gate and called it a day and made a beeline to Brittos and a seafood platter.
So there it is, in a day, I see three very different avatars of the same space. A historical monument built in the sixteenth century, part magical retreat, part shanty tourist attraction, part prison! And then I got thinking how this would translate dramatically.
I worked with three stories.
One set in the present, one in a fictionalized historical past and the other in a fictionalized mythological past. The idea behind this was that the single space conflated multiple discourses, and that putting each of these voices into a dramatic-situation would create the necessary 'conflict.' In a sense, the dramatic movement consists of the voices of mythology, history and the present, intermingling, clashing and eventually resolving within the space. Inextricably tangled within the space are the protagonists of the three stories, who are confronted with tough choices.
I'll say no more about the play itself, but will post it to the group by the 12th of July, and hope it will do the talking for me. I do welcome constructive feedback!
What I will say about the play, is that one of the agendas was to deliberately mix the present context, history and mythology. As a result, metaphors are set up within the dramatic structure of the play, and do not merely sit prettily in dialogue. I've seen too many 'well intentioned' plays purporting to explore some social malaise that proceed to bomb the audience with every piece of information about the problem being explored. I've read Pinter's Mountain Language and One for the Road and I suppose in retrospect, I'm toying with much the same technique, although I'm a bit allergic to agitprop. This approach to theme is far more effective and is provocative and exciting.
Letting the theme permeate the form of the play is a favored device of mine as it opens up dramatic exploration of ideas, like no other medium can. You can debate all day about totalitarian states, but share a moment with a character who is facing the full wrath of such a situation and an immediate emotional connect occurs.
This is my theatre – edgy, unsettling, dangerous...
Some more pics from the trip...
A view of the prison from near the lighthouse.
The bastion, the stone...
