A Classical Revival?

With elections looming ahead (yawning ahead, as a colleague
recently put it), the last thing on most minds is culture or
dance. But for those who live and breathe it, elections or no
elections, carry on they must. And so, despite its various
limps and hiccups over time, must the PNCA Performing Arts
Group, once known as the PIA Arts Academy, now in yet another phase of its checkered existence.

Set up in the early 1970s during the ZA Bhutto years the PIA
Arts Academy was meant to promote Pakistani dance and music, and introduce this aspect of our culture to countries
serviced by PIA. Under the directorship of the distinguished
actor Zia Mohyeddin, the Academy quickly won a reputation for classical as well as folk dances and music.

However, within a couple of years, the institution that had
been so carefully nurtured became the victim of internal
strife and external politics. Some dancers resented the rise
of the prodigiously talented Naheed Siddiqui, demanding
practice rooms like her’s. "But they would just do a little
bit and then leave -- she would carry on working," recalls
Mohyeddin.

After the two of them got married, the murmurs of ’favouritism’ grew louder. Looking back, some formers
members of the troupe admit that these accusations were not
entirely justified, and that with her enormous talent Naheed
was head and shoulders above the other classical dancers.
Meanwhile, however, there were labour problems, with the
employees demanding the same facilities and benefits as other PIA employees.

With ZAB increasingly toeing the agenda of the religious
parties, the PIA management quickly sniffed out which way the wind was blowing, and decided that as the national airline,
it had no business running a dance and music ensemble anyway.

And so, shortly before ZAB was overthrown, the Academy was closed down.

Zia Mohyeddin migrated to the UK, followed shortly by Naheed – who was allowed to leave the country only after she had signed an undertaking that she would not perform anywhere in the world without the government of Pakistan’s permission. In England, both Zia and Naheed continued to develop their respective talents. He quickly made a name for himself in the world of drama and film, while she flowered with persistent practice and new opportunities.

Back in Pakistan, Gen. Ziaul Haq had taken over and begun
implementing his so-called Islamic agenda. There was
certainly no reason for him to pick up the pieces of the
dismembered Arts Academcy. But even he soon realized the need for a cultural troupe to entertain visiting foreign delegates (some of whom specifically inquired about it, much to the embarrassment of the hosts) and use to fulfill cultural
agreements with friendly countries.

So the remnants of the PIA Arts Academy were dug up and made to perform before the entire cabinet, presided over by Gen. Zia. It was then decided to revive this troupe, but ensure that its work was ’given an Islamic colour’. Fatima Surraya Bajjia’s services were enlisted to script a wedding tableau, in which various folk dances of Pakistan were incorporated.

This elaborate and lengthy piece was first presented in
China, and broadcast on Chinese television in the late 1970s.

The revamping of the troupe marked a turning point in its
life, and it was taken over by the Pakistan National Council
of Arts, which comes under the auspices of the Ministry of
Culture, and renamed as the Performing Arts Group. The
emphasis was now almost entirely on folk music and dance. For years, the primary audience of the ensemble remained visiting foreign delegations and foreign audiences in countries where they were sent to demonstrate ’Pakistani culture’.

"We do classical also," explained a long time PNCA employee
in an interview a couple of years ago, "but to reassure those
who think that Bharatnatyam has something to do with Bharat
we call it ’Pak Dance’."

This concession to obscurantism however, does not form part
of the official policy as it currently stands. Last year, Raja Changez Sultan, Minister of Culture, was given the go ahead by the present government to revive the classical part of the repertoire and also start presenting the Group’s work to the Pakistani public. The Kathak dancer Nighat Choudhry was appointed to oversee the Group’s work. That arrangement did not last too long, perhaps because she had her own engagements.

Still, the Group began presenting its repertoire on Saturday
nights to an invited audience at their Karachi premises; members of the public could enter on payment of an entry fee of about a hundred rupees. But then the ’summer timings’ introduced by the government intervened, and the Saturday night sessions were discontinued. It wasn’t dark early enough to hold the performances at a reasonable time, and when it was time to start, there would be a wait for the ’azaan’ to end. By that time it would be past 10.30 pm. In addition, and most importantly, the PNCA bosses were unhappy with the quality.

And so the current phase began. Well known dancer and dance teacher Sheema Kirmani, who has dedicatedly persisted in this field against all odds for over two decades now, was prevailed upon to join the Group as Artistic Director, and improve their level with regular training and choreographing new productions. Although known for her Bharatnatyam and Odissi work ("those are the styles that appeal most to me"), she has also learnt Kathak, and is teaching all styles to the dancers.

"I’m interested in choreographing a dance drama, so it is not
limited to any one style," she says. "In any case, we in
Pakistan need to create and evolve our own style."

She has thrown herself into the new job with characteristic
commitment and seriousness, and conducts a lengthy training
session with the dancers twice a week at the PNCA Karachi
premises, which is where the group rehearses and where the
Saturday night performances were also held.

"There are ten boys, ten girls, ten musicians," she
explains. "The idea is to improve their quality and make the
repertoire worthy of being presented to a foreign audience."

What about Pakistanis? "Yes, Pakistanis also, definitely,"
she says emphatically. "My personal priority would be to
present our work first to our own people, and familiarize
them with our art and culture. In fact, we are now looking
for someone to market our new productions and bring them
before the public."

The present Mughal Darbar production she is working on has
echoes of the Ghanshyams, who used to run the Rhythmic Arts Academy in Karachi before they were hounded out during Gen. Zia’s time, in 1983. Sheema herself took up dance and yoga under their tutelage at age 13, and acknowledges that the Basant Bahar composition that the dancers are currently practicing is from the Ghanshyam’s repertoire.

She hasn’t yet revived the Saturday night performances, but
occasionally presents the work to an invited audience. Writer
and poet Attiya Daud, who was present on one of these
occasions, was thrilled to be there. "This thing (dance) has
become so rare in our society. I come from a rural area, and
at every occasion of celebration, people dance. That was the
other good thing about what we saw here today, boys and girls dancing together, which is a reality where I come from."

"All this violence and hatred could be reduced tremendously
if we paid more attention to the arts and culture," she added.

One of Sheema Kirmani’s first moves when she took over charge of the PNCA’s Performing Arts Group was to try and improve the salary structures there. "It is pathetic, they get paid Rs 5000, the senior most musicians draw Rs 8000 a month," she said.

Abid, a dancer who has been with the Group for the last
fourteen years, says that he and the other male dancers find
that their stamina has improved with the new routine and
training. "We had never done classical before, but now that
Sheema-ji is making us do it, we are enjoying it."

His own salary, previously a paltry Rs 4000, was recently
raised to Rs 5000 a month. "But this is far less than what it
should be," he adds. He isn’t asking for an outrageous
amount: Rs 8000 a month, he says, would be sufficient to
support his wife and four children. "We want other people to
come into this field," he says. "But when they see us in this
situation, why should they? That is why the arts are in such
a pathetic state here."

Another dancer, Khalida, has been with the Group for 18
years, and is now concentrating more on the vocals
side. "There used to be some classical here before," she
says, "but the concentration has been on folk. Now that the
classical is being introduced again, both forms will benefit
and flower."

Veteran tabla nawaz Ustad Eid (’Edhu’) Nawaz Ajmeri has
thrown himself into working with the dancers with
enthusiasm. "We’ve always continued with our classical music because there was no bar on that," he says, "and everywhere we have performed in Pakistan, people have appreciated our work, because it is ’sacha kaam’. And it will always be so."