Alyque
Padamsee closes his eyes and remembers a scene from
Macbeth. Not the Macbeth that he’s currently directing,
due to open less than a fortnight from now. But a
Macbeth from way back in 1941 when Padamsee was just a
child. “I remember a voice speaking and face illuminated
by a single beam of light,” says Padamsee. He didn’t
understand much of the play, yet he found it hugely
exciting. Says Padamsee: “I did advertising to pay the
bills but my heart was in theatre,” that Macbeth was the
start of it all. “It was the first play I saw,” he says.
The face
illuminated by the light was his elder brother Sultan
Padamsee who founded the Theatre Group of Bombay, along
with Ebrahim Alkazi and Hamid Sayani, when he was just
18. Sultan Padamsee directed and starred in that
production of Macbeth, and rehearsed many others in the
drawing room of the big old flat in Colaba where
Padamsee grew up and where we’re sitting now.
“I used to
watch them rehearsing from my bedroom door,” he says.
Sultan Padamsee was a huge influence on his younger
brother, inspiring his involvement in theatre, yet his
own story was tragic. One of those precocious talents
that burns out fast, he committed suicide when he was
just 24.
His brother’s shadow could be
one reason why it’s taken Padamsee so long to come to
Macbeth. He’s
certainly thought about it before. “I am fascinated by
power,” he says, and out of Shakespeare’s canon its the
plays that focus on messianic figures who seek, wield
and are usually struck down by their quest for power
that he’s drawn to, rather than the romances and the
comedies. So apart from a youthful Taming of the Shrew
back in 1954, his other experiences with Shakespeare
have been Hamlet (1964), Julius Caesar (1979) and
Othello (1990). But its only now, 65 years after his
brother’s Macbeth, that Padamsee has come to
Shakespeare’s most nakedly power-obsessed play. In the
other plays the pursuit of power comes entwined with
politics (Julius Caesar), family feuds (Hamlet) and
sexual jealousy (Othello).
In Macbeth its a bid for power
alone, set in a nightmar-ishly compressed frame (Macbeth
is almost half the size of Hamlet) and written in
language of hallucinatory poetry. When the play starts
King Duncan has rewarded Macbeth highly, making him
Thane of Cawdor, and clearly has no fear of him or why
would be come to stay in his castle. Macbeth himself
seems to have had no thoughts of a power grab, until
confronted, even forced into it, by the witches and his
wife. Why this should happen is something that every
director of Macbeth must grapple with.
This
happened some years back when he picked up a book called
Tantra: The Cult of the Feminine by Andre Van Lysebeth
that detailed how the Indian tantric tradition could
have spread to Europe along with the gypsies,
influencing Western traditions of witchcraft. Padamsee
made the link the Macbeth at once and as he read more,
he found more parallels.
Even more important is the union
of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth who critic Harold Bloom
cheerfully suggests are the happiest married couple in
all Shakespeare’s work. In tantra power comes when Shiva
and Shakti, masculine and feminine forces combine, the
latter giving the former power to act. This is what
happens in Macbeth, where Shakti/Lady Macbeth infuses
her husband with the power to kill Duncan — which,
significantly, she tries, but can’t do herself.
With the
help of Subhojit Dasgupta, an expert of tantra,
Padamsee worked his way through the play, developing the
tantric interpretation both as an internal explanation
for the action and as an external way of connecting with
an Indian audience. Internal logic matters too, and this
is why the tantric explanations for the actions are
important. Padamsee’s tantric Macbeth will be all the
more interesting for following on from another very
powerful Indian interpretation of the play in Vishal
Bharadwaj’s film Maqbool. Dispensing with Shakespeare’s
language, the essential story was put in the context of
Mumbai’s underworld, with Duncan as the mafia don,
Abbaji, and Maqbool his faithful lieutenant.
As with
Padamsee’s tantric Macbeth, Bharadwaj’s film made a
brilliant connection with Indian occult tradition in the
diamond lines of the janampatra, the horoscopes drawn by
Pandit and Purohit, the comic-sinister duo of corrupt
policemen who perform the roles of the witches. The
janampatra lines form a visual motif in the film,
repeatedly drawn by the duo as they see the drama unfold
to its predicted end. (The film’s explanation of the
prophecy of the sea overcoming Maqbool probably works
even better than Shakespeare’s explanation of Birnam
wood coming marching down on Dunsinane castle).
Bharadwaj’s
film makes one big change in making Nimmi, the Lady
Macbeth character mesmerisingly acted by Tabu, not
Maqbool’s wife, but the mistress of the Don and the
object of Maqbool’s lust.
Padamsee has seen and admired
the film, “at least the first half.” To be fair to
Bharadwaj, critics have complained that Macbeth’s second
half itself is weak, with Lady Macbeth hardly appearing
except for her sleep walking sequence.
Padamsee
doesn’t agree with this. “Its possible to make the
second half work, and we have,” he says, without giving
away how exactly his interpretation works. “Got to keep
some suspense for the play!” He does point out that Lady
Macbeth’s fading out is consistent with tantra. “After
Shakti gives Shiva her power, she dwindles to becoming a
shell of herself and that is what happens to Lady
Macbeth.”
However the tantric elements
work out, when the play opens, audiences can be assured
of a spectacle. Padamsee’s Macbeth will be an ensemble
production of the kind that is becoming ever harder to
put on these days. With a total cast and crew of 100
people, just getting people together is a Herculean
task. “Actors are all doing TV these days, or now
they’re doing alternative films,” grouses Padamsee.
Padamsee is
planning for 20 performances in Mumbai, and then plans
to go national, if sponsors can be found. There is also
interest from abroad - perhaps even to perform at the
Edinburgh Festival, he says. That would be an
interesting way to complete a circle — a Scottish play
with perhaps Indian roots in tantra/witchcraft performed
by an Indian troop at the centre of Scottish power. It
would be a circle to match the personal one Padamsee is
making in doing the play his brother hooked him with, 65
years ago.