Is Tibetan theatre in India finally getting its due?

More than six decades after its exile, the Tibetan diaspora in India has produced theatre for a diverse audience, opening up a world of possibilities

Among the highlights at Mumbai’s annual Prithvi Theatre Festival this year was a play in Tibetan, comprising an all-Tibetan cast, and English subtitles. Titled Pah-Lak (‘father’ in Tibetan), it was originally written in English by playwright and director Abhishek Majumdar. Besides a full house, what made the occasion momentous was a short opening address by Lhapka Tsering, cultural secretary and founder of Tibet Theatre. Visibly joyful, Tsering thanked the audience, announcing that this was Tibetan theatre’s first foray into the mainstream, especially on the festival circuit in India. It has otherwise remained conspicuously absent from the contemporary theatre landscape of the country. 

The play, set in Tibet, tells the story of a nun named Deshar and her monastery that faces the threat of Chinese re-education under the communist regime. Committed to her religious practice and the spirit of compassion, Deshar chooses the path of ultimate of non-violence—that of self-immolation. The play further delves into the period of the Tibetan uprising in 2008 and makes a brave attempt at humanising its characters amidst ideological differences. 

It is a confluence of Tibetan culture, politics and, for many, an education in the Tibetan Independence Movement. The play has been produced by Tibet Theatre in collaboration with the Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts (TIPA) based in McLeodganj, the seat of the Tibetan Government in Exile since 1960.

A lone contemporary outfit

It was his work in the Tibetan Independence Movement that led to Tsering’s chance introduction to theatre. With a political science degree, he was elected the central executive director of the Tibetan Youth Congress, the largest pro-independence NGO in the exile community. 

As a means to further the struggle, Tsering read about historical independence movements including India’s freedom struggle and the French Revolution. “Theatre has contributed so much to the struggles in each of these movements. It has a lot of potential and I thought we must have our own theatre not only to face China but also to address issues within the exile community,” he says. He formed Tibet Theatre in 2011, with three plays and six friends. He remains the only permanent member of the outfit now, collaborating with artists on a project basis.

The only contemporary Tibetan theatre outfit in India, Tibet Theatre has performed 24 plays and over 300 shows across monasteries, schools and settlements in the country. “We have a rich culture of opera but contemporary and street theatre is quite new to the community,” explains Tsering.

The opera beginnings

The origin of Ache Lhamo or Lhamo—a traditional form of Tibetan opera—can be traced back to the 14th century, over 600 years ago. Yogi Thangtong Gyalpo, scholar and saint from the Shigatse county of Tibet, developed the practice with the help of seven sisters he met as labourers, as a means of raising funds to build a bridge on the Kyichu river, near Lhasa in Tibet. “There is no written record of its origin, but this is a widely believed story,” says Sonam Chophel, Secretary of TIPA. “TIPA was founded in Kalimpong in 1959 and was previously known as Tibetan Music Dance and Drama Society,” he adds.  

Every April, TIPA organises the 10-day-long Shoton Festival, where opera troupes from India and Nepal perform Lhamo in the three known traditions of Kyormulung, Chungpa and Monru Ponsang. They use dance and music to weave narrative, theatre-style performances often laced with satire. Performers wear colourful traditional masks and costumes to aid the storytelling. The material is drawn from ancient Buddhist stories and scriptures. “Earlier, there were opera troupes all over central Tibet, with a single opera going on for a week. Over time, the storytelling evolved so as to fit it into a single day,” shares Chophel.

In the last decade, Chophel says that TIPA has made efforts to represent contemporary theatre in its annual summer festival. “Tibet is a religious country. What we have managed to preserve is religion and religious scriptures. It is these stories that form part of the traditional arts, including Lhamo,” he says. Participating artists produce 25–30-minute-long plays around pre-decided themes in a competition at the festival.

The emergence of the contemporary

In the early days of Tibet Theatre, Tsering urged people to send him their his plays. He received none, realising that he had to become a playwright himself. Then came the search for actors, and that proved futile, too. 

“Finding trained Tibetan actors is very difficult. Parents discourage their children from getting into theatre and believe it isn’t a viable career option. It’s more difficult to find women actors,” he tells us. Tsering then worked with untrained actors and even urged his wife to act, who later returned to stage to perform a seminal part in Pah-Lak. 

Tsering’s original choice of themes placed his craft firmly in the contemporary space. While furthering the movement, he began using the medium to highlight social issues within the community.

Quite literally, one of his early plays in 2011, More and More, Lesser and Lesser (translated from Tibetan), presents a dialogue between two people to address the evils within the community in exile. “While one actor talks of the evils, the other speaks of the good in the community,” he explains of his style. The play gained popularity among ministers, high lamas and monks alike. 

On the other hand, Now, It’s All Gone,another early play, tells the story of a family raising their son with promises of sending him to the United States. “He wastes his life assuming that he will end up in the West. This is a common practice in the community and I wanted to address it in a play. It’s like the film 3 Idiots, but Tibetan,” says Tsering.

His other plays touch upon issues like drug addiction, the preservation of Tibetan language and culture, gender rights, and a brief period where most Tibetan parents urged their children to go to nursing schools. “Not everyone has the aptitude for it,” adds Tsering. 

Who’s watching and who pays?

Performed in Tibetan, Tsering’s work finds audience in schools, monasteries and settlements across India. “At any given point, we have at least 300 people in attendance. Tibetans are fond of their entertainment. In other settlements, there are often 2,000-3,000 people watching the play. In schools too, the audience is a given,” he explains. While several of his plays open at TIPA, Tsering has, on occasion, taken them to the streets, too. 

“Since they address social issues within the community, the plays are not ticketed,” Tsering says, adding that funding is obtained mainly through Tibetan social organisations. He has also been funded twice, in 2014 and in 2015, by the US government’s National Endowment for Democracy. “As part of this, we performed in Tibetan settlements in Ladakh and in Bylakuppe in Karnataka,” he says. 

More than a decade after Tibet Theatre was formed, for the first time, Tsering performed to an Indian audience with Pah-Lak. 

Breaking new ground with Pah-Lak 

Pah-Lak, earlier Pah-La in English, was initially produced and performed at the Royal Court Theatre in London in 2019. It had then courted controversy, and was cancelled owing to indirect Chinese pressure, and then for being staged without a Tibetan cast.

“After the shows in London, Majumdar approached me to do the play in Tibetan, involving Tibetan actors. We were looking for a translator and couldn’t find one so I did it on my own, over seven months,” Tsering, who turned co-director and actor too, recalls. TIPA then came on board as a collaborator, with German director Harry Fuhrmann as co-director. The play opened in McLeodganj on 1st October, the date that marks the founding of the People’s Republic of China and the annexation of Tibet. 

It has since travelled to settlements in Dehradun, Mussoorie and mainstream theatre venues like Shri Ram Centre in New Delhi and Prithvi Theatre in Mumbai. It’s slated for a show at the Serendipity Arts Festival in Goa later this month. Next year, Pah-Lak will travel to Germany and Switzerland. 

“This is also the first time a contemporary Tibetan play will travel outside the country,” says Tsering. Subtitling has opened up new avenues and the possibility of more Tibetan theatre being created for Indian and international consumption.

A different reality 

Poet and performer Tenzin Tsundue believes Pah-Lak is a moment of transition for Tibetan theatre. “In modern times, there has been very little experimentation in Tibetan theatre. The traditional opera is still prevalent and vibrant,” he says. 

Tibetan music, on the other hand, he says, has seen more experimentation both in Tibet and within the community in exile. “Music has carried the community and the spirit of the struggle, and connected the youth as well. It has kept the language alive and made it fashionable to sing in Tibetan. Even in Tibet, it is the Tibetan singers, lyricists and poets who have become idols for the youth,” he says. 

Tsundue sees aspects of what can be called an ‘experiment’ in Pah-Lak but believes there are a lot of mixed messages. “The story is Tibetan, the content is Tibetan, the language is insistently Tibetan, the audience is assumed non-Tibetan. These are troubled waters but for all this, it’s still a play that should be watched with great sympathy,” he concludes.

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