• Cast: Indrani Das, Shristi Bhagawati, Jigyash Pratim Dutta, Shashwati Bhattacharyya, Jureen Mahanta, Nandini Handique
  • Adaptation: Shristi Bhagawati
  • Direction: Shristi Bhagawati & Radhika Goswami
  • Dance/Movement Choreography: Nandini Handique
  • Song Composition: Shristi Bhagawati
  • Music: Music Malt (Jim Ankan Deka & Pranjoy Arup Das on Guitars and Rupam Kalita on Percussions)

A Captivating Reimagining of Ionesco’s “The Chairs” That Resonates with Modern Struggles and Longings 

“The Chairs” is an Assamese/English play inspired by Eugène Ionesco’s 1952 one-act absurdist play of the same name. The adaptation, written by Shristi Bhagawati and directed by Shristi Bhagawati and Radhika Goswami, is set in contemporary Guwahati. The characters of the old man and the old woman are reimagined as two ageing sisters, Majoni (Indrani Das) and Maina (Shristi Bhagawati), who are confined to their home after the city is inundated by flash floods.

As the two sisters begin a conversation, Majoni reflects on the potential Maina once had and all that she could have become. In response, Maina informs her that she has a great revelation to make, which she will share in the presence of numerous distinguished individuals who represent the elite of the society. She further adds that her words will be delivered by an orator who is skilled in conveying such messages. 

At this juncture, the guests start arriving, and the audience is treated to a human drama that not only exposes the inherent flaws and complexities in human nature but also emphasizes the inability of individuals to accept the futility of many aspects of life that, in the end, never truly matter.

Character Changes That Enhance the Storytelling:

Apart from the changes in characters, setting, and the presentation of the invisible guests from the original play, this adaptation is presented as a musical, featuring songs composed by Shristi Bhagawati, choreography by Nandini Handique, and with music by Music Malt.

While the original play was a one-act piece with three primary characters and the remaining characters being invisible, this version includes two sisters and four additional cast members who portray various characters from the play who are abstract but not invisible. This minor yet significant change adds an interesting layer to the experience, which I will elaborate on shortly.

Shristi Bhagawati And Indrani Das’s Exceptional Performances: 

The first thing that strikes you as an audience member in the play is the performances by Srishti Bhagawati and Indrani Das. I have to admit that musicals are my least favourite genre when it comes to films, and in theatre and drama, it is something I consciously try to avoid. The fact that the emotions conveyed through song and dance routines often lose their meaning, nuance and poignancy for me ensures that I’m usually bored and restless during such performances. Not even “Zangoora” could hold my attention, despite being the biggest spectacle in the country in the 2000s.

So, I wasn’t prepared for how captivated and engaged I was with the play. I was almost immediately invested in the unfolding drama. I paid close attention to the dialogue and genuinely tried to connect with the emotions that the actors were conveying. Within minutes, I was immersed in the conversation between the two sisters. Srishti and Indrani are outstanding in their respective performances, and they play off each other so well that they not only captured my attention but also made me resonate with the range of emotions that they portrayed.

Shristi, in particular, deserves immense praise. She effortlessly navigated a wide range of emotions, outshining even some trained and renowned actors of our times. There was a vibrancy and wonder in her portrayal, and her excitement to hit every note in the performance infused the character with organic energy and life, elevating it to greater heights. Even though it was clear that she wasn’t anywhere near the age of the character she was playing, her performance was so convincing that it allowed for a suspension of disbelief. Within minutes, I fully accepted her as the character, despite seeing puffs of white particles (possibly used to grey her hair) floating in the air, illuminated by the bright lights on her face.

She was just as adept at depicting tragedy as she was at capturing the inherent listlessness and melancholy of fantasizing about being important, capable, and having much to offer yet ultimately ending up as a nobody.

Indrani Das was equally remarkable in her portrayal of Majoni. It’s important to note that her performance, in many ways, helped elevate Shristi’s act. Indrani consistently accentuated and punctuated Shristi’s dialogues and cues, allowing her to spread her wings while simultaneously providing the kind of expressions and reactions that guided the audience around the drama. This interplay between them transformed the dialogue and drama into something personal and impactful. The chemistry between the two actors was not only effective but also perfectly timed. They seamlessly led into each other’s dialogues, mannerisms and expressions, which helped convey the various themes of the play in an intelligible and engaging manner.

The Absurd Has Now Become Real:

Eugène Ionesco’s original play was envisioned, written, and staged as an absurdist piece. As the curtains fell on the adaptation and I had a moment to reflect on my way home, I was horrified to realize that what was absurd and farcical in 1952 had become our reality in modern times. There was nothing in the narrative—aside from the quirky presentation of the invisible characters—that didn’t make perfect sense to me. The problems felt real, the emotional vacuum felt real, the tragedy felt real, and the hopelessness felt real too.

There have been moments when I’ve looked back at some of the darkest times in my life, and somehow, they’ve seemed brighter over the years—highlighting the harsh truth that our lives are getting worse with each passing day. This play, in many ways and with wonderful sensitivity, emphasized this very sad reality for me. This is the true power of this medium—it makes such complex feelings easily intelligible through performance and writing. One has to credit the direction of Radhika Goswami and Shristi Bhagawati for ensuring that the narrative and the performances in the play flow with purpose and clarity.

Themes of Communication and Acceptance Explored Wonderfully:

In the original play, the inability to communicate is an important theme, and it remains so in this adaptation too. Maina has to hire an orator to articulate her great revelation, which is a testament to the fact that no matter how highly we think of our abilities and ourselves when it comes to expressing our qualities and contributions to others, we inevitably fail. This failure is sometimes due to fear of rejection, and other times because we aren’t confident that the world will perceive and accept us as we envision ourselves to be. This aspect of the play also highlights how individuals often rely on others to validate their importance and how crucial acceptance and appreciation in society are for human beings. Once again, Shristi and Indrani beautifully capture the nuances of these poignant moments, which I believe will resonate with everyone.

Invisible Characters Made Visible Adding a Layer of Intrigue:

As I mentioned earlier, some of the invisible characters in the play are depicted as real and portrayed by real actors, which adds a layer of intrigue to the entire experience. I interpreted these actors as representations of individuals in our lives who are physically present and have their own perspectives and understanding of us, yet we only acknowledge and accept what we want from their words and expressions—often filtering out what they truly believe or think about us.

This effect is achieved in the adaptation because the actors have no dialogue. Their contributions to the drama are imagined and conveyed through the characters of Majoni and Maina. I’m not sure if this was the intention of Radhika and Shristi, but a play of this nature is open to various interpretations. This was my humble attempt to decipher something so simple, yet so complex and open to wild imagination.

The Impact of Music and Choreography in the Adaptation:

This review would be incomplete without mentioning the songs, choreography, and music of the play. Being a musical, the music plays a vital role, serving as the adhesive that not only holds the narrative together but also gives it a unique character. The songs provide moments of refreshing energy and clarity, which are critical in punctuating an already seamless and impactful narrative. The music, songs, and performances never overstay their welcome. They appear at key moments to elevate the story and remind you that when done well and with heart, musicals can truly be a thing of beauty. The songs performed by Shristi and Indrani were heartfelt, making me marvel at how they managed to pull off performances filled with non-stop dialogue for 50 minutes, while still singing and expressing emotions through melodies so effortlessly and in tune.

Agora- A Cultural Sanctuary for Alternative Art:

“The Chairs” was staged at Agora- the Space, an eclectic art and cultural venue focusing on the interaction of art, culture, and positive well-being. It is quickly becoming a cultural hub for the people of Guwahati and neighbouring states. It has become a sanctuary for some of the more obscure and rare expressions of art and life, which might struggle to find a platform in more mainstream spaces.

Radhika Goswami and her team has worked tirelessly for half a decade to create something that not only provides a safe haven for alternative art forms to spread their wings but has also garnered attention with her many ventures over the past year that aim to impact the society positively. I watched “The Chairs” with a packed and knowledgeable audience of various age groups, which reaffirmed my belief that there is room for all forms of art and expression in our society. When done well, they will always find an appreciative audience.

Final Words:

Srishti and Radhika’s play was further proof of this positive fact, as it made someone like me—who has seen Salaar four times in multiplexes with friends, each time yelling his heart out—sit back and take notice of a form of art that is as unfamiliar to me as the Martians and yet never missing the impact, deep rooted themes and nuances of the presentation that are fast becoming our reality.

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