A Pakistani Down Under
I think you find enough people to come see theatre to get you going, not financially perhaps, but you get the required
The writer is a former head of programming at Express TV
The character of Zephon reminded me of another character in a very controversial novel of the late 1980s in which the angel, who is one of two protagonists, gets to do all the dirty work against his will, if he has any. Zephon is the lead character of a recently staged play, “More Sex, Death and Chocolate” produced by A Factory Space Theatre Company in Sydney. I thoroughly enjoyed this small-scale production, mainly due to the brilliant script and some great performances. Karoline O’Sullivan played the main character of the helpless angel who would serve as the link to the various stories or plays within this play. Her endless monologues were the only disappointment that evening. Oddly, I was wondering if she got her inspiration from Bollywood’s King Khan. No, she didn’t stammer but she did other non-acting stuff that King Khan is known for.
With some research, I found that there are many such amateur theatre productions being staged in Sydney. These are usually staged by a bunch of theatre enthusiasts, who have other day jobs. No, they don’t make any money with this activity. Whatever is collected through the selling of tickets is spent on the rent of the auditorium, costumes, sets, props, etc. and whatever money is left over is reserved for the next production. This is exactly how amateur theatre groups would operate in Karachi until some of them got noticed by brainy-looking NGO people. Some registered as charity organisations. The rest just quit. The more I learned about the way they operated here in Sydney, the more nostalgic trips I embarked on.
It was the year 1996. I was between jobs and frustrated. No stability in career or relationships. I wanted to make films and it was the one thing I really did something about back then. My short-lived jobs would end on bitter notes — a fight with the boss mostly. And, one day, I learned about the existence of amateur theatre groups in Karachi. I entered this world (not without some reluctance). It still feels like a fantasy. A director who did nothing but theatre. A full-time actress (actually, television and commercial voiceovers paid her bills). And a whole bunch of young people, who after their exhausting (and usually bad) day at work, would rush to that school building, (literally) hungry for the workshops and rehearsals. That was the beginning of something beautiful, something life-altering. I stuck to this group for several years. Several enlightening years with Sartre, Chekhov, Ibsen, Jean Genet, Samuel Beckett, Badal Sarkar and Arthur Miller, and many others and I am grateful to the gang for this. Though I continued to live between jobs and with awful relationships for a few more years, I was less frustrated. Literature and intellectual discourses had started to transform me into a person I began to like living with.
I am not sure how much the government supports amateur theatre in Australia but I must say it made a huge difference in Pakistan when the government decided to give a considerable annual grant and a beautiful heritage building to a bunch of artists to set up a theatre academy. They are producing theatre on a regular basis in at least one metropolitan city of the country. I do not intend to deliver sermons on how great theatre is for the development of young minds. Even without such sermons, I think you find enough people to come see theatre to get you going, not financially perhaps, but you get the required (no, I didn’t say ‘desired’) amount of kicks.
Published in The Express Tribune, January 20th, 2015.
With some research, I found that there are many such amateur theatre productions being staged in Sydney. These are usually staged by a bunch of theatre enthusiasts, who have other day jobs. No, they don’t make any money with this activity. Whatever is collected through the selling of tickets is spent on the rent of the auditorium, costumes, sets, props, etc. and whatever money is left over is reserved for the next production. This is exactly how amateur theatre groups would operate in Karachi until some of them got noticed by brainy-looking NGO people. Some registered as charity organisations. The rest just quit. The more I learned about the way they operated here in Sydney, the more nostalgic trips I embarked on.
It was the year 1996. I was between jobs and frustrated. No stability in career or relationships. I wanted to make films and it was the one thing I really did something about back then. My short-lived jobs would end on bitter notes — a fight with the boss mostly. And, one day, I learned about the existence of amateur theatre groups in Karachi. I entered this world (not without some reluctance). It still feels like a fantasy. A director who did nothing but theatre. A full-time actress (actually, television and commercial voiceovers paid her bills). And a whole bunch of young people, who after their exhausting (and usually bad) day at work, would rush to that school building, (literally) hungry for the workshops and rehearsals. That was the beginning of something beautiful, something life-altering. I stuck to this group for several years. Several enlightening years with Sartre, Chekhov, Ibsen, Jean Genet, Samuel Beckett, Badal Sarkar and Arthur Miller, and many others and I am grateful to the gang for this. Though I continued to live between jobs and with awful relationships for a few more years, I was less frustrated. Literature and intellectual discourses had started to transform me into a person I began to like living with.
I am not sure how much the government supports amateur theatre in Australia but I must say it made a huge difference in Pakistan when the government decided to give a considerable annual grant and a beautiful heritage building to a bunch of artists to set up a theatre academy. They are producing theatre on a regular basis in at least one metropolitan city of the country. I do not intend to deliver sermons on how great theatre is for the development of young minds. Even without such sermons, I think you find enough people to come see theatre to get you going, not financially perhaps, but you get the required (no, I didn’t say ‘desired’) amount of kicks.
Published in The Express Tribune, January 20th, 2015.