The man with a funny red nose
Actor Ashwath Bhatt takes time off to hold camps in the hills, training freshers and professionals in theatre and clowning.
Ashwath Bhatt is looking for his precious little red nose to pose for our photographer. Realising he has forgotten it at home, he nevertheless puts up a mini show with perfect ease in the middle of Delhi’s chaotic Bengali Market. As we watch Bhatt slip into a string of characters, shaping his face into an array of comical, exaggerated expressions, he says that clowning is a form of theatre he feels closest to. His mini “clownet” (a short clown act) for the camera is engaging and thoughtful, rather than the ha-ha funny variety usually associated with clowns. That’s an association that often irks Bhatt, a theatre person who takes the form very seriously.
Like many of his ilk, Bhatt takes up work in the Hindi film industry from time to time, but theatre and clowning remain his priority. He was first introduced to it at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art (LAMDA). “Clowning is not just about acting out comical characters. It’s a demonstration of emotions,” Bhatt clarifies at the outset. Bhatt is hoping to familiarise amateurs and audience to the art of clowning, which is still new to India.
A step towards fulfilling this ambition is Bhatt’s two-year-old Theatre Garage Project, an outstation theatre camp he organises in the hills of Uttarakhand every summer, the third edition of which concluded two weeks ago. Bhatt has just returned from the camp when we meet and he looks positively energetic and enthusiastic. “It’s almost like coming out of jail,” he quips, citing his no alcohol, strenuous body movement exercises and strict punctuality policy at the camp. Nevertheless, it’s hard to imagine him being called “Hitler” at the camp, for who can hate a man with a funny red nose? “The nose remains essential to a clown even today. And noses can’t be shared. It’s as personal as an undergarment!” explains Bhatt.
The actor leads a group of 10 participants — “a number more than that gets unmanageable” — who sweat it out in the hills, red noses in place, with the gorgeous green mountains making the journey worthwhile. The idea of organising theatre camps originated from the eight-month bus trip Bhatt took with a German theatre group Flying Fish many years ago. “I came back to India and felt quite rootless. I wanted to do something similar. It took me a year to find a place where I could train people in theatre and clowning,” says Bhatt. A native of Kashmir, Bhatt identifies with the mountains, recalling dreamily his childhood days in Srinagar amidst tulips which grew on his grandfather’s seed farm.
His fascination for the hills took him to Uttarakhand, where Bhatt knew a couple who “owned a mountain and a mud hut.” They readily gave in to his proposal. The camp made its debut on a primitive note in the summer of 2007, with the group having no help even to prepare meals. Two years down the line, the camp is well-fitted with better water supply, a semi-concrete work space and pine leaves and mats on the ground to act as a buffer during body movement exercises.
There is now also a cook. “It was like adopting a space and finding something out of nothing. It took some time to settle in,” says Bhatt. Through his modules, Bhatt trains participants in how to relate clowning to acting, with the process culminating in “clownets” which was performed at a nearby resort. Eventually, clowning comes through with its exaggerated demonstration of emotions and process-oriented expressions which emerge only once you have “peeled off all your layers.”
Bhatt’s motto is simple: in order to be a good clown, or a good actor, you must feel liberated. His acts as a naked clown, Bhatt recalls from his UK days, “were the most liberating. I felt closest to myself.” He understands that he runs the risk of sounding a bit cuckoo thus hastens to add, “Clowning is madness, after all. And we all have a streak of madness in us.” The campsite, Bhatt, points out is a good 25 minute walk from motorable roads, and after 10-15 days of waking up at 4 am every morning to a strenuous regimen, only a very sincere participant can hope to claim significant results. Body and acting techniques are elaborate and it takes time for participants to settle in.
Bhatt is open to having a variety of people joining in — freshers and professional theatre actors are welcome. A minimal camp fee of Rs 6,000 — to cover the cost of travel and supplies — encourages participants from low-income groups, who Bhatt has often hosted. This year, Bhatt plans to hold a second camp later in October. But what may seem like a one-man show, is a culmination of the participants’ involvement, he insists. “Each module at the camp has gone through construction and deconstruction, evolving with every student,” he says generously.
At the moment, juggling the theatre garage project with other work — most recently writing dialogues for Rahul Dholakia’s film set in Kashmir, titled Lamha, and an independent theatre production on Saadat Hasan Manto’s life — Bhatt cannot make time for more than one or two camps a year. Raising funds for a concrete workspace at the workshop site is foremost on his agenda. “I would eventually like to invite international students for the camp. I am also working on having artistes join us for the camp; painters, authors, musicians, who can work in their area of expertise in our modules,” Bhatt explains.
When time permits, Bhatt will take his project to other locales. On the agenda is a camp at Rocky Islands in Siliguri. Clownets built around war stories out of Kashmir is one of the themes he is working on currently. In the future, Bhatt would like to stress on the therapeutic side of clowning. “Doctors recommend clowning workshops to corporates,” Bhatt puts in. We are willing to buy that. For who can refuse to smile at a man with a funny red nose?