et si la lune ne revient pas?
Wednesday and Thursday evening, I attended a dazzling play called "Ma Ravanne (my drum)"
La Ravanne is a large, flat drum that is used to play sega, Mauritius's national song and dance, and that is featured prominently in the musical traditions of the greater region. Countries where the La Ravanne is popular are also countries where slaves and indentured servants were seized and brought to Mauritius. These include Madagascar, India, and Sri Lanka. Thus, the drum occupies an important place in the patrimony of the Western Portion of the Indian Ocean.
Naturally, when I heard that there was going to be an exposition on La Ravanne, I envisioned a concert of some variety or another. However, to my surprise, "MaRavanne ended up being an experimental play and of the most interesting theatrical experiences I've had.
Foremost, a word about the scene and the players..Ma Ravanne was staged in a room steeped in incense, in a tranche of the floor demarcated by sticks and stones. Further, it was realized of a troupe of 8 extremely good-looking, well-muscled, and scantily clad men (see loincloths) from across the Indian Ocean region, including Mauritius, Madagascar, India, Sri Lanka, Reunion, Seychelles.
The composition and aesthetics of the cast was interesting for several reasons, not the least of which is the demographics of the audience and their typical reactions to the play. Not only was every gay Mauritian that I know personally in attendance, so were dozens of unattached straight women, and both groups were salivating throughout the production and looked ready to slide out of their seats and puddle onto the floor. One 50 year old friend was so excited by the play that she had it 3 times already, but still had to fan herself when recounting her impressions( "C'était suuuPER! TRES jolie.)"
More pointedly, however, it made interesting use of objectification. For a change, it was mens' bodies that were sensualized and put on display, and by doing so, the play engaged in a discussion of performative masculinity and the male body as both a site of power and a site of fragility.
Beyond its selection of actors & constuming, MaRavanne also made very interesting use of narrative, song and dance. La Ravanne drums were both instruments and props through the production... sometimes even being used to obscure the faces of the actors and strung together depict these somewhat mythical figures. Also played reed pipes, indian string instruments, rainsticks and small percussion instruments.. blending the sound with storytelling and movement.
The play's narrative devices were also fascinating. Lines were delivered in French, Creole, Tamil, Hindi and Malagasy and were scattered among the members of the troupe. There were also many other types of vocalizations.. for instance, chirping, moaning, gasping for air/water. In addition, all took turns entering the center of the stage and dancing.. although here, the performers' movements were a cross between dancing and seizing, they were so frenetic.
One line that served as a refrain was "j'ai soif" (i am thirsty). Another recurring expression was a recitation of the names of prophets from Hinduism and Islam, as well as the phrase "si la lune ne revient pas?" (and if the moon does not return?) My initial reading of the line concerning thirst was that it was a reference to the longing felt by the descendants of slaves and the alcoholism that often helps make their exile bearable. However, a friend's interpretation was that the actors thirsted their ancestors, and that they wanted to imbibe the souls of their antecedents and those departed, as well as drink up their roots and traditions since abandoned.
Although my interpretation is perhaps disappointingly literal, my problem with this evaluation is that thirst does not seen like an apt metaphor to describe the desperation of a slave population secluded on an island. I would imagine that persons brought from Mainland Africa, India or Madagascar by coercion to a place like Mauritius (where you can almost always see the ocean) would result in a feeling of profound seasickness, and perhaps even a sensation of drowning.. having lungs full of water...
Ultimately, going to see "MaRavanne" twice allowed me to have two very different appreciations of the production. This difference in perception is based both on my re-view of the play and the fact that each night i was there, the Director adopted a different approach to introducing the play. For instance, on Wednesday when I saw "MaRavanne" for the first time, the play was staged without much in the way of introduction and audience members were left to deduce meanings themselves. However, during the second staging of the production, the director described in his own words what the play was meant to convey, and asserted that the play was mean to discuss slavery.
This commentary had an interesting impact on my experience, in that I found myself constantly searching for clues and corroboration.
For instance, if the production was indeed was a discussion of slaves and slavery (as opposed to descendants of slaves, for instance) one interesting thing about its staging is that the slavemasters and slaveowners are never depicted. To an extent, the same was true for bondage in general. Throughout the play, the actors move about the stage unbridled, unrestrained. Thus, the fact that the performers are enslaved or captive is never directly implied...
Interestingly, the only thing that suggested the fact of their captivity was the boundless volatility of their emotions. The actors were childlike in certain moments, hysterical at others, combative on certain occasions, and cloying and sensual at other times. There was a certain madness, a certain volatility about it.. It was the range of that one might imagine of someone in solitary confinement... where your lack of agency in the material world forces you to create an emotional life in your head.
Photography was not allowed at the performance, so I unfortunately do not have any images from the performance. However, a parting visual:
The final scene ends with a man with waist-length dreadlocks turning in a circle and beating the La Ravanne with his hair. Absolutely brilliant.
Since then, I can't tell you how much I've been asked whether I play instruments with my hair as well...
Labels: theatre, things that make me happy
