I can’t remember the last time I saw a portrayal of Pakistanis that didn’t involve bomb making and obsessive praying. Nor have I ever heard the Pakistani National Anthem performed in Britain, which is how the evening began as we gathered at Kala Sangam Arts Centre for The Taming of the Shrew. But then, this was no ordinary production of the English classic since it was being performed in Urdu. This was Pakistan’s contribution to the Globe to Globe World Shakespeare Festival which saw all of Shakespeare’s 37 plays performed in as many languages, and quite a coup for Kala Sangam to bring Theatre Wallay’s critically acclaimed production to Bradford.
They say you can’t learn a language without immersing yourself in the culture that the language is spoken in. So, The Taming of the Shrew wasn’t just performed in Urdu. The whole thing was set within a Pakistani context, in Pakistan’s vibrant cultural capital of Lahore to be precise, and what we were treated to was a wholly cultural translation. Our Petruchio and Katherine were in fact Rustam and Kiran, speaking in a mix of classical Urdu and colloquialisms, and permeating the play with all the mannerisms, cultural references, humour and wit, stereotypes and ‘in’ jokes, folk inspired dancing, live music and poetry that any Pakistani would instantly recognise. Even the pedestal fans laid on by Kala Sangam to quell the heat added to the Lahori feel!
The theme of the play was very much in keeping with Pakistan’s patriarchal society, where sisters are married according to birth order, where parental approval is compulsory, and where suitors are scrutinised according to their wealth and social standing. But perhaps because the play was translated by three women, our Kiran (Katherine) was presented as less of a shrew and more of a feminist, who ultimately falls for a man who regards her as his equal. Maria Khan, the actress playing Kiran was equally formidable. She stepped into the shoes of the original Kiran, played by Lahore screen and stage star Nadia Jamil, after she was suddenly taken ill and subsequently hospitalised during the interval on the previous night’s performance.
Accompanying the charismatic cast were members of the awesome Mekaal Hassan Band, accomplished musicians who are more used to topping the Pakistani music charts and playing their blend of sufi rock to packed auditoriums. There was Mekaal on guitar, a sitar player, as well as other musicians playing a mix of contemporary and traditional instruments, some of which I can’t even name. The flautist held at least six different sized flutes in his lap, effortlessly swapping between them.
It was an uplifting evening. On the way home, mum confessed that whilst she’d been exposed to the works of Shakespeare at school in Pakistan, she at best tolerated the revered texts in order to pass her exams. This version of The Taming of the Shrew though was so much more than Shakespeare alone. As mum said on the way home, “It was like a scented breeze from my motherland.”
Don’t miss my cultural picks, in and around Bradford.
Irna Qureshi blogs about being British, Pakistani, Muslim and female in Bradford, against a backdrop of classic Indian films.
hmmm great post, i like it