Tag Archive for: Research

A conversation this morning, and this happened between long-time friends from the amateur theater world in Bangalore India, prompted this post. It occurred to me that rehearsals, which often lasted a couple of months or more, provided a direct experience in what it might mean in order to ‘make’ in a design studio for insight.

If a theater group stays with a production, then there is more that happens in terms of learning over time, as the play evolves and matures in its later iterations. I will come to that aspect of learning in some later post.

Here is a little background. Almost forty years ago, I got to become a part of an amateur theater group, Gnatak, in Bangalore, India. Pronounced ‘Natak’ (naa tuck), the Indian word for theater, the ‘G’ in the front of its spelling had many interpretations, left deliberately open. Every now and then, people would wonder and come up with some interpretation of what that letter might stand for —and in the process it seemed to provide a constantly evolving construction of identity.

That is a fascinating thought to explore, perhaps later — how posing an enigma creates a new language and grammar, opening up spaces for conversation and leaving a mystery in its trail for ongoing wonderment and fluid redefinition.

The motley group of college students, professional engineers, activists, artists, journalists, business people — fluidly came together around some sort of a permanent core of maybe eight or ten regulars, to produce on an average three to four plays a year. I happened to be there for almost five years during this intense period, until professional and other personal forces did their centrifugal magic.

At some other time, I will perhaps also write about the amazing productivity of the group’s informal organization, a concept I leveraged in my role as a Business Leader in an American Multinational to great success. It works!

The thought that got me to write this morning has to do with how the rehearsal process, a subset of the totality that was Gnatak for me, was a fascinating creative experience, a process whereby dead scripts and texts were brought to life.

The scripts, often written for a foreign, non-Indian context, (because we were all WAIP — Westernized, Anglo-Indian People), needed to be in English, the language we who came from across the country shared and were fluent in, often were about second hand-experiences.

These narratives were about strange contexts that we only had second-hand information, knowledge or understanding of. We were global citizens in some sense because of our upbringing and schooling, even though most of our knowledge beyond India was second or third-hand. However, we were merely in the face of huge unknowns that we needed to navigate over the course of the rehearsal months.

The not knowing too much about the context perhaps was an interesting prerequisite for our creativity — as we could make whatever meaning we wanted, giving it the accents of our looks, worldviews, ideas, and Indian-English manners of speaking in the process.

Somehow, through a process of initial probatory readings, a play was picked, because it produced some intuitive sense of its potential — it supposedly had ‘ghum’, another fluid word that in essence suggested a kind of radical exciting energy. 

Random contextual conditions would then decide what followed — who was available to act, who had time to direct, what spaces were available for rehearsal etc. 

Amateur theaters did not have permanent rehearsal spaces, which in afterthought is extremely conducive to creativity. All kinds of social networks came to life to find us somewhere we could practice. Often schools would let us use their halls to rehearse after hours, ignoring some of the social life and language that came with what characterized our unique sociality. 

But, when the gates were closed and lights turned off for the evening, there were always the streets lights under which one could go on into the early hours of the morning, timing determined by how late one could find restaurants that served tea. That is another fascinating dimension of an amateur theater ecosystem one must delve into later.

Every day the rehearsals were a revelation. One understood more about some nuance of the author’s intentions, historical context, the particular use of language, strange words that evoked our own made up meanings etc. Sometimes these revelations were radical and surprising. 

But, there was something else that happened that was perhaps more important for me. As we gave birth to these strange worlds as surrogates, who was acting, how they felt that day, and how they felt about each other, changed what happened on a given evening.  And, in that happening, something more opened up in the possibility spaces of the play’s worlds – Way beyond perhaps what the playwright might have had in mind. Every day these inter-personal dynamics changed what the play might have meant and what it meant to us.

This was a unique process of insight generation and it would definitely not have happened without the immersion and its youthful intensity. Some of the best and most interesting performances happened during these evenings and early hours of the morning on a street corner somewhere. 

There is one thing one learns from this process — there are no guarantees, irrespective of how much the idea is to concretize and capture the production of experience in a repeatable manner, that you will see something again. Not even on the day of the performance are you assured of a reproduction of your best rehearsal moments, though there is always the possibility of surprises on the day of the performance itself.

What a gift it is then to witness the evolution of meaning-making during the rehearsal, and not just some notion of a final version on the day of the public performance.

What then does this have to do with design research one might ask.

One watches a public performance of everyday life, in some kind of an ethnographic study sense. One brings back snapshots, and artifacts, and tries to capture and make sense of what those things might mean, looking for some kind of an essence beyond the literality of the spectacle and through that reflection reveal the scripts and the generative, productive processes — that are the ’sutras’ and the ‘mantras’, the signature patterns of the people we observe.

Gnatak too had a signature style — a very distinctive approach to what plays we chose to perform and how we did them. There are stories about how some other groups tried to do the same plays several decades later, and left audiences yearning for the return of the original.

Those signatures are what one is searching for too in society, the purpose of the research. 

It is the human collective that produces the human agents that is the intention of our understanding and quest. What for example, are the scripts in operation and how do we produce our responses to Covid or Climate Change? 

We can uncover the secrets of our improvisations and we could learn something from theater and the rehearsal process in particular about how to go backstage and get to those invisible authors of our lives.