Performance by Presidential Decree | Sunday Observer

Performance by Presidential Decree

13 March, 2022

Veteran theatre practitioner Jith Peiris has a wealth of stories related to the arts and urban society that relate to the good old days of a bygone era, kept alive in his storehouse of memories.

Among my memories of what Jith is best known for, which is theatre, are the Ceylonese vintage plays he has mounted on the boards of the Lionel Wendt.

Among the productions that belong to this particular genre of theatre, which forms, in my opinion, an indelible element of the Sri Lankan theatre legacy, the Ceylonese vintage play ‘He Comes from Jaffna’ written by E. F. C. Ludowyck, stands out for many a reason.

Although applauded heartily nowadays by theatre goers in Colombo as an uproarious comedy, this play was regarded by some (and perhaps still remains in the minds of some) a controversial play when it first came to life as a work of theatre back in the first half of the 20th century. The crux of the grouse being that ‘the Tamils of Jaffna’ were portrayed in an offensive way.

While this particular work of Ceylonese vintage theatre remains possibly a subject of debate, there is no denying how ‘He Comes from Jaffna’ has (for right or wrong reasons, if such a binary of moral adjudication on the arts can somehow be appreciated) never fails to draw theatre goers en mass to the Wendt. Jith, who has carved for himself a niche in Sri Lankan English theatre for either directing or producing many a Ceylonese vintage play, shared with me the story of how his first production of ‘He Comes from Jaffna’ came to fruition back in the early 1990s. The story is quite a piece of Sri Lankan theatre history, I dare say, and warrants being on record; and thus set my hand to write this article.

A fated meeting

It all started when Jith was at a wedding and a member of the President’s security team had approached him and said, in Sinhala, that the President would like to speak with him, and requested Jith to come over to the table where the late President Ranasinghe Premadasa was seated. “How Peiris. Do sit down,” President Premadasa had said to the theatre practitioner who was then making his gradual rise on the Colombo cultural scene. Jith said that was in fact his first time meeting with the then President of Sri Lanka, who had congratulated him on the theatre productions done up to then, and especially mentioned how Jith had done an admirable job of reviving Ceylonese vintage plays.

Commending Jith for being a practitioner who was quite genuinely interested in the arts, the head of state had then said, “I want to ask you a favour. Can you do ‘He comes from Jaffna’?”. The presidential request came as something of a surprise to Jith but a most welcome one. He had explained to the then President of Sri Lanka that he had wanted to do a production of this famous play by the late Ludowyck but hasn’t yet been able to get his hands on a copy of the play’s script.

He had then ventured on to say that to the best of his knowledge the YMCA in Fort has a copy in their collection of archived material, but that he was not allowed access to it. He, therefore, explained to President Premadasa that due to the lack of access to a copy of the script he was not in a position to do a production of, ‘He comes from Jaffna’.

After listening to Jith’s explanation, President Premadasa had replied “I’ll do my best to get it.” Jith said he explained further to the President that when it comes to theatre productions he almost always uses his personal money to fund them and finds the situation somewhat challenging at times. Giving a keen ear to grasp the fiscal reality of what must be thrown ‘under the boards’ (if I may suggest such an expression) in order to realise a performance to go ‘on the boards’, the President had told Jith, “Go ahead and do this. I’ll find the money.” Jith and the President had spoken for about half an hour on that occasion and then bade each other adieu for the evening.

A call from the President

“At about 8.15 the next morning I get a call,” Jith narrated to me in dramatic tone of voice. “It was Premadasa! He said he’s sending a car to bring me over to President’s House.” Soon after a car had arrived with two security personnel from the President’s security team and driven Jith to President’s House where the First Citizen had met him and asked him if he had breakfast.

Apparently it had been somewhat early in the day for Jith, as he had not had his morning meal until then. The President had then requested Jith to have breakfast first before they get down to discuss the matter in question. A staffer of President’s House had conducted Jith to a lavishly laid out breakfast table where he had a sumptuous morning meal, and afterwards he was informed that the President would like to see him in his office chamber. Upon entering the office chamber of the President, Jith saw the then Head of State seated at his desk with a book in his hand, which he held up and said “Here you are Peiris. The script.”

Work on the production began soon and the presidential support that Jith was promised, was made good on. Needless to say Jith set himself to the task assiduously and was testing out thespians to assemble a good cast for the show. The President was briefed from time to time on the progress of the project.

The lead role of Durai (the main man who ‘comes from Jaffna’) was to be performed by seasoned actor Elson Diviturugama. Jith said he told the President that he had to work on Elson with regard to several facets in order to mould him to deliver a convincing performance as an English speaking Jaffna man, and that he would need about two months to work on building up Elson’s character.

It was during this phase of getting the casting done that Jith received a call from the President on a matter that was unexpected but quite welcome. “He called me and said, sounding a bit embarrassed almost, ‘I’ve been pestered by my AG to ask you to give him also a part in your play’.” But Jith was quick to mention to me that this was by no means political interference and an incursion upon the artistic freedom Jith was meant to have as the director. It was simply a kind request to consider the then Attorney General, the late Sunil de Silva PC who was also known for his thespian talents, to be given an audition for one of the roles in the play. But the President had made it clear to Jith that the AG had to earn the part on his own acting merits and not to be handed the part simply because the President had mentioned this matter.

Jith said the then Attorney General proved himself worthy at the audition to be cast in the play, and recalled fondly how the late Sunil de Silva, whom he said was a man who really enjoyed his food, would come to rehearsals with generous amounts of tasty treats for the entire team, which added to the mirth and merriment they all experienced in the process of putting together the production.

The venue was to be The Elphinstone Theatre in Maradana, and the press was generous in its pre – show publicity to hail the return of a Ceylonese vintage classic.

“Two days before the show’s opening night there was a front page article in the Daily News about this upcoming production which had several photographs from the dress rehearsals we had. And although I didn’t know it then, this had caught the President’s eye and caused him to visit us at rehearsals at the Elphinstone that evening itself!”.

Costume corrections by courtesy of the President

Jith recounted how when he arrived at the venue for the dress rehearsal that evening, his car was not allowed in and was made to stop at a police barrier which barred vehicles from parking near the Elphinstone Theatre. The area had been abuzz with security personnel and a police officer had inquired from Jith why he sought to enter the theatre premises? He had explained that he was the director of the play that is to debut in two days time and that he was holding a dress rehearsal in a little while.

The police officer had then brought to Jith’s knowledge that the President was on premises. Jith lost no time to park his car at a short distance from the venue where it would not be in conflict with the security arrangements in place by the presidential security team, and hurried to the Elphinstone. President Premadasa had been waiting for him in the dressing room. The President had shown Jith the newspaper article and pointed out that he noticed the photos showed the ‘Thalappava’, the cloth head garb (or headdress one could say), worn by the Tamil people in Jaffna, was wrongly done on ‘Durai’!

To correct this aspect of the costume, the President had brought with him two Hindu priests who were quite knowledgeable on the subject, and said that they will do the ‘Tharappava’ on the actor on each show night so that Durai’s costume will not suffer from a faulty head garb.

“I was literally crying,” said Jith, who was deeply touched by the degree of keen interest the President had taken in the whole project and the extent to which the President had gone to ensure cultural correctness depicted in the attire of the character meant to symbolise a man who comes from Jaffna. “That’s the kind of man he was!” Said Jith admiring the sense of genuine interest shown by the late President Ranasinghe Premadasa, which charts the story of how Jith’s first production of ‘He Comes from Jaffna’, came to fruition.

A Ceylonese classic revived

That production of ‘He Comes from Jaffna’, which had among the cast, along with the country’s then Attorney General, actors such as Elson Diviturugama, and Angela Seneviratne, also featured a young Mohamed Adamally, who is now reputed as a seasoned theatre practitioner.

The opening night had been, needless to say, a tremendous success, which was attended by President Premadasa who even joined the cast on stage after the curtain call, to show his solidarity with the artistes who had successfully brought back to life, a classic of Sri Lankan theatre.

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