Kuveni storms the stage

I spoke of H.D. Sugathapala in my last column. He was firstly an educator. Secondly he was a great supporter of the arts. At the time we were rehearsing Kuveni he and his wife Gertie were occupying the Head Master’s quarters of the Royal Junior School.

He must have produced thousands of bright and useful young men for this country during his tenure as Head Master of that school. He was very much with us, theatre people, and was well aware of our problems. That is how he came to allow us to use his hall for our rehearsals.

If the evening was free for him he would quietly come into the hall, sit in a corner and watch our rehearsals. Often he would invite all of us to his bungalow after rehearsals and treat us for tea and biscuits or cake or whatever they had at home. He and his wife, Gertie, who was also a teacher of the same school, were fine hosts.

One evening, after watching our rehearsals, he called me to a side and spoke to me in that very personal, very convincing style of his - a tone just above a whisper and his blue eyes speaking volumes.

“Henry, why don’t you enter this play of yours to this year’s drama competition?” We were aware by that time that the Arts Council of Ceylon under the newly formed Cultural Ministry was preparing for its second annual Drama Festival and Competition.

I was not all that interested in this event because I believed it was too early to pit the few us, meaning the local dramatists, together in a competition. I conveyed my sentiments to Mr. Sugathapala.

“Aiyo, Lamayo....” He protested. Mr. S. had some peculiar endearing terms of reference when speaking to people “lamayo’ was one of them. ‘manussa doni’ was another. “Aiyo lamayo...” He repeated. “If all of you are going to back out with one excuse or another how can we have this event ?” He lamented.

“We have to go from pillar to post looking for plays. You ‘theatre people’ are a proud lot. Be a good chap Henry and come into this competition. If you come in, most others will come in too...” “I’ll think about it Sir...” I told him truthfully. Mr. S. clucked and clicked, put an arm around me and said, “There is nothing to think about lamayo. I am going to consider that you are in !”

And that is how we entered the Arts Council Drama Festival and Competition of 1963, with our Kuveni. After my chat with Mr. Sugathapala, I discussed this subject with my cast too and we all agreed that we should not reject dear Mr. Sugathapala’s request. He had done us a big favour by letting us rehearse in his school and he had been so very kind to us.

Entering the fray

Once we entered the fray, we got into it with all the gusto we had. Actually it was like a ‘spell’ cast on us. We had to keep to a deadline. The festival was scheduled for the first week of September and the date allocated to us was the 7th.

Not a single actor missed a single rehearsal and we rehearsed into the night, often catching a late bus home. (None of us, except Felix Premawardhana, had a vehicle at that time -not even a phone. We would gather at the rehearsal place around five thirty in the evening, after work (yes, all of us, except the three chorus girls and Chitra Jayasinghe, were employed as clerks, draftsmen, teachers etc.) and rehearse as long as we could. We had to let the girls go off a little early since they had to catch a bus home to places like Piliyandala, Kottawa etc.

But I could rehearse Manel as much as I wanted - she was a willing participant and above all, she had to carry the play through. To be frank, she was the only one among us who was least bothered about the upcoming competition.

She just immersed herself in her debut stage character like a whirlwind in motion. She was tireless and enjoyed herself thoroughly. It was a pleasure to watch her seep herself into the enigmatic soul of Kuveni, the woman.

Stylization had taken so much root that at that time there were two sections to the competition - the ‘Stylized’ section and the ‘Naturalistic’ section. There were five plays for the final round. ‘Trikonaya’ ‘Biththi Hathara’ and ‘Ranthodu’ in the Naturalistic mode and, ‘Ajasatta’ (by Wimal Nawagamuwa) and ‘’Kuveni’ in the stylized mode.

We performed the day before the last day - the 7th. Awards were to be presented the next night. The chief guest that evening was T.B. Illangaratne - the then Minister of Finance, if I am not mistaken.

We performed well. Manel was superb. Long years later, the translator of ‘Kuveni’ Dr. Laksmi de Silva put down in writing how she felt watching Kuveni that first night.

She writes in her ‘Translator’s Note’ “The tingle of excitement down the spine which instinctively acknowledges the recognition of something truly great in art, the startling effectiveness of the rendering through performance, of the blending of poignant pathos with intellectual toughness in the text, the visual effect of Manel Jayasena as Kuveni, her vital femininity heightened by the flash of pride lambent in her gait and eyes, a chorus whose voices and movements projected the meaningful lyrics with stunning force and cohesiveness....”)

There is always a bit of a break on awards nights, after the final performance, for the judges to decide on the awards and come to terms with themselves too, perhaps, and that is an agonizing period for the actual participants. (I decided not to go through that agony ever again. I never participated in a competition after Kuveni !

Cat calls

We sat in the Lumbini Theatre hall in Hv. Town keyed up as a lot of highly strung violins trying to pretend that it was just another evening. The entire cast was present. I am sure all the participants of the other four plays were also present.

And of course the overflowing audience of keen theatergoers, well wishers, press people, reviewers, cameramen and the whole lot. The awards for the naturalistic sector was announced first. Dharmasiri Wickramaratne’s ‘Ranthodu’ bagged two awards in that sector.

The hero and heroine of that play, Tony Ranasinghe and Anula Karunatilleke won the awards for the Best Actor and Actress, accompanied by huge cheers and applause. If I remember right, there were a few cat calls too - not for the recipients but for the theme of the play - virginity - and the display of a tell tale cloth on stage !

We were waiting for our turn. It came finally and we bagged four out of the five awards in the ‘stylized’ sector. Manel was a favourite Best Actress and H.H. Bandara won the prestigious award for the Best Music. I got two awards for Best Play Script and Best Production.

The awards were given away by Minister T.B. Illangaratne. As he presented my second award he whispered something in my ear. It took me a little time to grasp what he said. He had said “We saw ‘Gamperaliya’ too. You were very good there too.” That was as good as a third award that night!

Our cast was jubilant - to say the least. “Kuyanna ehenawtah ekkama api ath ridena thuru appudi theluwa....!” (With the very consonant ‘ku’ we applauded till it hurt) A beaming Dhamma Jagoda bawled over the din, embracing me tightly.

There were not many awards offered at that time. Best Play, Best Production, Best Actor and Best Actress were about the lot. There was an additional award for Best Music in the Stylised section. The Best Actor award in that section was won by Wijeratne Warakagoda for his portrayal of ‘King Bimbisara’ in Wimal Nawagamuwa’s Ajasatta’.

Awards for areas such as Stage Design, Make up, Costumes, Stage Management etc. are later additions. If there was an award for Costume Designing during that time, I am sure Wimaladharma Diyasena would have won it for his imaginative costume designs in Kuveni.

And if there was another award for Choreography, our Vasantha Kumara would have won it hands down. Anyway those were pioneering days in this direction and we are most grateful and happy with what was given to us.

Exposure

After the cast dispersed that night, Manel and I took a taxi to a place called ‘Sandella’ - an artists’ restaurant and bar run by our friend Senator Reggie Perera. That was a quiet and homely niche down the then Turret Road, somewhere close to Victoria Park.

We did not speak much but enjoyed each others’ company. I had a couple of arracks while Manel sipped a ginger beer. When I ordered the arrack, she just looked up at me, but said nothing. She was aware that I was more fond of beer. She looked pensive.

I was feeling a kind of sadness too, deep within me. We both knew why, but we chose not to talk about it. We were both a little unhappy about ‘Ranthodu’ being selected for the finals - not that it mattered to us. We had seen the play and discussed it at home.

Manel was vehemently opposed to that kind of exposure of virginity on stage. We thought it was rather indelicate - to say the least. ‘Cheer up!’ was all I told her and ordered some light food.

Kuveni had very favourable reviews too in the Sinhala Press as well as the English. Manel was showered with praise not only by the press but also by everyone who saw the play. I was very proud of her and felt ten feet tall! Requests for outstation shows were pouring in.

We could hardly accommodate them. The repeat shows in Colombo had overflowing audiences. Some spectators, specially women, came to see it over and over again.

I particularly remember one lady who came to see the play over and over again with our friend and benefactress Mrs. Somi Meegama. (I am sure it was Mrs. Meegama who had recommended me to Dr. Sarachchandra to take over the role of Prince Maname, in Ben Sirimanne’s absence, although she never told me so.) She was a Kuveni fan herself, but I did not know the other lady.

Whenever they came to see the play, they would visit us backstage and have a chat with us. Often they would bring a cake or some short eats too - specially for Manel. “You must be knowing Kuveni by heart by now...” I chided the other lady one day. “You come to see it everyday.” I told her. The lady looked hurt at my comments.

I thought she was about to cry. I was alarmed. “Mr. Jayasena” The lady said in hurt tones. “You have brought my life story on stage. And perhaps the life story of many women...I come to see it because it soothes my heart...It is not a joking matter, Mr. Jayasena...” I could kick myself for my indelicate remark. I excused myself from the two women. My eyes were welling up.

Thought of the week

The school season for the New Year has begun and it is a delight to see bright faced spruced up children going to school. However I am worried about the loads the poor things have to carry.

I don’t mean the massive load they have to carry and face up to, in the future, especially where we adults have faltered. What I mean is the huge load of books, and other educational material they have to carry on their backed packed in double shoulder bags.

We have two little ones ourselves in our home and I lifted the bag carried by the grade four boy. Frankly it was pretty heavy even for me. They have to carry them, climb stairs, rush into buses or vans with this load bending their backs! Sometime back, I read in one of our newspapers, that the present physical load on the backs of our children could even lead to future back injuries.

Should a child be made to carry all the books and all the material of all the subjects on all days? That is what seems to be happening and hence this heavy load. I wonder if schools could have some racks or little lockers where children could deposit the non-homework stuff and use them in the class whenever necessary.

Perhaps that could ease their loads at least to some extent.

In our days we did not have to carry bags simply because we did not have so many books to carry. Of course times are different and there are many more subjects a child has to cover from grade two, three, onwards. I wonder whether children in other countries too have to carry such huge loads.

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