Drama Queen

By Rinky Kumar

Published: Volume 15, Issue 11, November, 2007


To say Sanjna Kapoor has a passion for theatre is a gross understatement. It’s something that consumes every moment of her life. There’s a shine in her eyes, a bright smile on her face and a lilt in her voice when the pretty lady talks about the stage. Catching up with her on a balmy afternoon on the eve of the Prithvi Festival, Rinky Kumar realises there is more to her persona than meets the eye

It’s that time of the year again. Sanjna Kapoor is focussing all her attention on her creative baby, the annual Prithvi Theatre Festival. Titled Mumbai Musicals, this season features 12 musicals, including nine premieres. All shows promise to stimulate and delight the audiences visually and intellectually. Kapoor says she has wanted to do musicals for a long time. “Prithvi has always focussed on socially relevant theatre of which music is an integral part. Songs contribute hugely to creating an atmosphere and giving an opportunity to actors to showcase their talent.”

The lack of space for parallel or alternate theatre in contemporary India really saddens Kapoor. “We need more homes for plays. Unfortunately, there are no new theatres coming up. As a result, experimental theatre is not as vibrant as it should be. What’s more, authorities are ruining good spaces like Ravindra Natya Mandir and National Centre of Performing Arts with their corporate mindset.” It’s this sorry state of affairs that prompted Kapoor to subsidise the rent. She confesses that though next year is Prithvi’s 30th anniversary, there is nothing worth celebrating due to the appalling state of theatre in the country. “We need to pause and consider what contribution we’re making to the cultural fabric of the society. We need some good spaces for cultural activity. Unfortunately, the government and society has always perceived us as a fluffy piece of entertainment.”

Kapoor felt the need for a reality check at Prithvi Theatre’s 25th anniversary four years ago when she realised that Prithvi was a mere drop in the sea, an isolated entity. She felt a growing need to connect with other groups and institutions in order to inject fresh life into theatre. This prompted her and other like-minded individuals to come together and create the Theatre Forum in May 2006. “The forum looks at different practical aspects of survival. Next year we’ll be launching our own website. Our goal is to be a lobbying body and voice our opinions.” The forum is also seeking funds from Ratan Tata Trust for three years and hoping to run on membership.

Kapoor is accustomed to being asked whether theatre will survive in the long term as a mode of entertainment. She answers confidently, “Right through history, theatre has faced great challenges but always managed to come up trumps. Despite the emergence of new modes of communication, theatre will continue to have its own dedicated audience because it is quite niche.” But that does not mean theatre aficionados should become complacent. Kapoor feels new forms of experimentation should be explored. Just as art has been experimented with in photography, likewise theatre should be explored through other art forms.

Being a theatre insider, Kapoor is constantly observing actors and playwrights on stage. While Thomas Dupont and William Shakespeare are her favourites, among the present lot she is impressed with Ramu Ramanathan, Manav Kaul and Jaimini Pathak. A compulsive play watcher, Kapoor says nothing thrills her more than realistic theatre. “When I go for a play, I look for something that cannot be found in a television serial or a film. There should be an element of surprise to excite me. Stage is the only art form that uses the principles of time, motion, space and sound and offers something that engages the audience totally.”

Love for theatre runs in the Kapoor clan. While her paternal grandfather Prithviraj Kapoor used his film career to sustain his love for the stage, her maternal grandfather (Jennifer Kendall’s father Geoffrey Kendall) travelled with his theatre group Shakespeareana to different parts of India. “I grew up listening about my grandfather’s adventures. He always told me Indian students were his best audience as they were so receptive.”

Interestingly, it was after her grandfather and mother passed away and her brother Kunal Kapoor got involved in his advertising career that she decided to take the matter in her own hand. The initial journey was quite desolate, she confesses. “Ten years ago, it was very lonely and hard to run such a huge institution. It was a challenge to build our own corpus and pay salaries to staff. We survived a hand-to-mouth existence. Over 29 years, we have earned a lot of goodwill. We want to be in a position that if a theatre festival is being held in a remote part of India, we should be able to contribute Rs 1 lakh for the event.”

Kapoor also feels greater awareness needs to be created amongst the Mumbai audience to attract them to the theatres. “Today, just a small ad in a newspaper won’t work in pulling audiences. We stage 400 plays in a year but there is only 64 per cent crowd for all the productions. We need to access audience via sms, e-mail and through local arts and cultural magazines.”

Prithvi may have become her second name, but there is another facet of her personality that is known only to her near and dear ones. An outdoor sports lover, she loves scuba diving, snorkelling and swimming. She often escapes from the humdrum of everyday life to the Maldives with her husband (tiger conservationist Valmik Thapar) and five-year-old son Hameer. She has also written two books – Bridge of God about the Masai Mara National Park in Kenya and The Ultimate Guide to Ranthambore – with her husband. She has worked in a children’s camp, Save the Tigers. As for her son, Kapoor says, “Hameer enjoys being around with me as well as his father.” No two days are the same.

The one-time actress who disappeared from celluloid after making a debut opposite Naseeruddin Shah in Ketan Mehta’s Hero Hiralal has no plans to make her comeback in films. “Movies are not my space any more.” As for being a recluse, she says, “I like the anonymity of not being recognised on the streets.”
As our conversation veers back to theatre, the smile reappears. What’s the one thing she finds missing in contemporary theatre, she says, “I feel today’s plays lack contemplation and application of mind. Though the last couple of years have witnessed a new impetus with the emergence of new playwrights and actors, the relevance of theatre is still being questioned.”
Kapoor nurtures a dream to turn the Prithvi House, a one-storey structure opposite the Prithvi theatre, into a cultural hub with a library, adda, resource centre, space to conduct workshops, dance, music and appreciation courses to boot. “I want theatre audiences to move away from the big festival glitz and develop new, intellectually stimulating habits.”