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1st November 1998

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Drama Review

Stafford's rollicking Sindbad surpasses them all

No longer do Co lombo audiences attend Drama offerings of school children with the condescending attitude of "Ah well! They are just children after all." Today's youngsters rival professionals in this craft and none typified this better than the students of Stafford International School who not only thoroughly WOWED Colombo's discriminating audiences but had a rollicking good time in producing the Pantomime "SINDBAD" to packed halls a few days ago.

Let me say at the outset that the acting was superlative. Prashan Fernando as brother of Sindbad and Samantha Ferdinand as their mother pretty much stole the show. Both these young thespians belong to that rare breed of naturals.

They never make an unnecessary gesture, never put a foot wrong. Giving them a run for their money were Swasha Perera, Fallon Mody and Rukshan Dodanwela as Princess Yasmin, Fatima and Sindbad respectively, who romped through their roles as convincingly as though they were Baghdad born and bred.

One of the most attractive features of Sindbad was the music which had been taken from Chopin, Borodin, well known songs from the shows and even that Shirely Temple classic "On the Good Ship Lollipop". Familiar tunes like "Stranger in Paradise" and "Till the Ends of Time" were hauntingly beautiful and were sung with exceptionally fine melodic direction. Witty dialogue, with some contemporary references, made the humour seem all that much funnier.

To wit, "Oooo how romantic is all is" exclaims Niveen Rajabdeen as Queen Scherezade. "Much better than "Sunset Beach". A highly competent supporting cast made the whole heady evening a completely worthwhile exercise.

Bernie de Soysa, as producer of the show gave parents and well wishers of Stafford an evening to remember. Of course she had a galaxy of famous names on the production roster.

In Mary Anne David's hands the singing could be nothing but excellent. Soundari David (Piano), Chris Prins (Drums) backed up the singers superbly. Costuming was lavish and special mention must be made of young Yoshita Abeysekera whose choreography was both fresh and innovative. Colourful sets added to the glamour of Arabian Nights splendour and it must be said that "Sindbad" had probably been one of the best productions in Colombo for 1998.

We have got used to the students of Stafford presenting eminently watchable Concerts, Musical Revues et al but on a purely personal note I would say that Sindbad surpasses them all.-G.G


Book Review

'With Maya': Eva's fresh signature in poetry

By Carl Muller

'With Maya' by Eva Ranaweera; Hitech Prints, Colombo. pp 82, March 1997; Winner of the State Literary Award for Poetry, 1998.

I watched Eva Ranaweera, quite self- effacing as she always is, receive the State Literary Award for Poetry this year. She hadn't dressed for the cameras. She hadn't come to "make a statement." She had come as a true poet, strong in her belief that art holds deeper significance and it is art that carries its own testament.

This slim book of verse does not lapse into the sort of artificiality that comes with the death of reality. There is a new and contemporary imagery and a freshness that smacks of the positive. Eva has not fallen into the trap of producing the esoteric or giving us stuff that is frivolously decorative or elaborately erudite. This is a trap that causes isolation. In this book of poems one can even see a clear reaction against esoteric poetry. Not that her poems are as "direct" as, say, Auden's, but the fact is that Eva challenges us to make sense of her allusions and give us a down-to-earth line ever so often if only to remind that she is with us and hopes that we are with her. Above all, hers is a Buddhistic voice and readers should keep this in mind when we consider the journey to that Karmic Samsara:

"beginning the climb, ready for anything
routed journey starts with a beautiful dawn
what a slippery hold to hang on
just caught in a slippery thought
flying over the mountains wet."

Life's journey. A snail on a bamboo leaf. The shocks of life too...

"Who the hell sent that thunder?
that shock caused
another slip
two steps back
that's normal
where is the other, the forward one?
In the stone pelting rain
slipping, slipping
hold on hold on h-o-l-d o-the breath the breath
deviation outside the route. Befuddled fate. Deviating deviating"

Thirty-three poems, some as pithy as the most startling, enigmatic aphorisms, and one is drawn into Eva's fine-spun web. What is magnetic is her imagery - a natural and spontaneous expression of her own thoughts and feelings. She also has this talent - can I call it localisation? - that is seen so well in the way she presents "Galle Face Brown and the Night of the Painted Faces":

"The sea sent wet breeze signals
of welcome to visitations from sweat-faced beings
gaily decked
and carrying painted white faces
to walk in Paradise
.

————

under the new dark sky
which killed by the dozen
the stars in the heavens
and the dead coffined
by black magic Raymond...

The confusion of humanity is so clearly shown in "The Lotus". Mind becomes the otherself, then spins in its own Catherine-wheel world of bodiless expression. Hopes turn to longings, longings to a sense of unreality until all transposed, interposed, juxtaposed, bring on clashing layers of thought. Which is me? she asks. And in this kaleidoscope of the natural and the metaphysical the lotus lies undisturbed, blooming, mine-open, chalice-open, giving of its promise without flurry; unagitated, serene as only the confident can be.

The title poem, "With Maya" is the tantalising experience of the street people who have "bags of dreams - the wildest ever", and the stories they weave.

"A man fell from the moon last night.
He woke me.
He was a shimmering man.
I ran away.
- tell me another -
Moon man had a woman
she was the bestest ever.
she didn't go with him
she saw me, see, she was with me,
but when I touched her
it was thin air.
Her face was yellow, a golden yellow."
A fantasia of wishfulness. "I ate chicken and meat and fish and pork/and all that was on the table; and sausages too. / Enough for a year."
"I had a bag of gold coins / someone left it for me under the tree, my tree."
"l wore a silk sarong, man, last night. / It was shining like fireflies."
"I had a man, a real gentleman / he drove a red car / I went about front seat with him / ... I was his wife. Married and all. / My servants fifteen in all, called me madam."

The braggadocio of the dream people. Night falls, the dream bag is empty. It is just a flaccid reality now like their flaccid lives. Bladders with no air.

Eva's poetry is compelling. It also tells us of the way the wind is blowing among so many new writers who are today coming into their own. We see in "The Shaming" the cynicism of society.

The mood here practically hectors the senses.

We see this same sense of unease and discomfort in Auden even if his lines are like a new and exciting music:

"Will you wheel death anywhere
In his invalid chair,
With no affectionate instant
But his attendant?

What is important in this collection is the intellectual and emotional background. Somehow, it offers a concentrated vision of the decay in modern society (cf. "The Shaming", "Journey to the Moon", "Agate Days") and the disintegration behind that imposing facade we pretend.

Certainly a new poetic signature and this is why Eva's book simply demanded that I write this, if only to tell her how deeply moving her work is.

"With Maya" is certainly a winner, and it is a collection that makes us so proud of "our Eva". I hope, truly, that she will keep giving us more of herself.

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