It is a dreary truth that many of the great plans, the one-stroke solutions, floated by various Pakistani governments over the years have turned out to be duds. That is no longer surprising; it is, in fact, a sad reality that we have come to accept. What is remarkable, however, is that a number of plans that were perfectly sound in their conceptualisation and could have brought about real changes had they been implemented properly, were also scuppered by ineptitude, greed or the sheer lack of will. A case in point was the establishment of government-supported arts councils that were to operate under the given mandate of promoting cultural activities and the arts. They were provided infrastructural facilities such as theatres and exhibition rooms – constructed through the deployment of taxpayer money – and putting the councils under the umbrella of the government meant that the bulk of the operational costs and running expenditures were taken care of through provincial budget allocations. What this meant was that the arts councils in, say, Lahore or Multan [which come under the Punjab Arts Council] and the Karachi Arts Council were given the luxury of being allowed to get on with their job of promoting artistic and cultural activities without having to worry about where the paper on which to write the memos was going to come from or who was going to cover staff salaries.

What this meant, in essence, was that the arts councils were absolved of having to rake in profits in order to keep themselves afloat. It was a great idea, one that could almost single-handedly have resuscitated theatre in the country – if the various arts councils had wanted to. With the money from the government constituting a financial backbone of sorts, the councils could have chosen to earn profits from wealthy corporations and multinationals, which could then have been diverted towards subsidising amateur and fringe theatre, or supporting financially-weak groups.

The way it stands at present, however, putting up a play is expensive and not much support is offered by the arts councils. The Karachi Arts Council theatre costs over Rs20,000 a night in rent alone. This is unnecessarily high given that on the amateur or fringe level, the most producers/directors can hope for is to break even – consider that their actors get either a pittance or nothing at all in payment. The situation is not too different for non-corporate professional theatre groups such as Tehrik-e-Niswan, Ajoka, or the many others putting up excellent work, all of whom must struggle to make ends meet given the lack of support offered by the arts councils – that were, ironically, set up to support the work of precisely such groups.

This situation essentially leaves theatre groups between a rock and a hard place. They can price their tickets high – over a thousand rupees is no longer uncommon – but that means choosing a production that is not only designed to appeal commercially but also to appeal specifically to those few who are interested in theatre and can afford such high prices. Or, the theatre groups can attempt to obtain corporate sponsorships. This is also a restraining factor since corporations are interested in sponsorship only as far as it helps promote their own product. They want to be able to draw to their event all the movers and shakers of society – which leads us back to the relatively small upper class of affluent people. A corporate sponsor is more likely to be interested in the tried and tested Shakespeare/Oscar Wilde/Neil Simon fare than in Ariel Dorfmann, for example, despite the fact that his spectacular ‘Death and the Maiden’ [adapted into Urdu by Shoaib Hashmi] or Jean Paul Sartre’s ‘Men Without Shadows’ [adapted into Urdu by Waqas Khan] is altogether more relevant to and reflective of Pakistan. How many more of Lady Bracknell’s cucumber sandwiches must we be forced to swallow?

Corporate sponsors cannot afford to take a risk on potentially controversial productions, which is fair enough, really, and theatre persons, particularly in this country, very rarely have deep pockets – a sad situation made much, much sadder by the fact that the arts councils continue to demand profit as though their very existence depended on it.

Rent is even charged for the final dress rehearsal on stage, which is an absolutely vital part of putting up a play since the actors, crew and technicians must get used to working with the spaces and acoustics of the hall – and in other parts of the world, just one day’s worth of rehearsal on stage would be ludicrous in itself. But here in Pakistan, this is what theatre groups with financial constraints are forced into and often end up presenting their final rehearsal as the ‘media viewing’ – a mistake, since you don’t need to show the media persons all the little hitches that are inevitable on what is still only a rehearsal.

One of the results of this lack of support is, I think, the growing number of productions in recent years that adapt box-office or Broadway hits to the Pakistani stage. These are more likely to draw in crowds of wealthy yuppies than a play by an unfamiliar [in Pakistan, at least] Japanese or Bangladeshi writer.

The problem, I must clarify, does not lie in such productions becoming increasingly popular but in other sorts of productions being squeezed out. The more the merrier, particularly in the land of theatre. There is every reason to bring to the Pakistani stage high-end productions such as ‘The Phantom of the Opera’, ‘Moulin Rouge’ and ‘Chicago’ and they are valuable in their own right.

But simultaneously, space must be made for and support provided to the more alternative sorts of productions, the ones written and directed by a student, perhaps, or the ones that highlight unsavoury social issues; the ones by new or unknown writers/directors or the ones that simply want the freedom to have a different take on things. In developing the cultural appetite of a people, a balanced diet is essential – a menu restricted to rich opulence or iconoclastic personalities will simply not do.

The Lahore Arts Council has addressed this matter to some extent and has different hall rent rates for corporations and small theatre groups. While that’s a step in the right direction and certainly a step above Karachi, more must be done in this regard. Otherwise, theatre and its audiences will remain divided, with different fare being produced for the ‘masses’ and for the elites. More must be done to bring the two closer together, and the ball is – once again – back in the court of officialdom.

Postscript: With reference to last week’s column, a reader pointed out tersely that “the apostrophe in the headline [“Dos and don’ts”] may be correctly placed but the hyphen in your ‘post-script’ is not.” I’ve been caught napping – he is quite right.

— hmumtaz@dawn.com