The poetry of space
Two of Chennai’s iconic buildings, the Museum Theatre and the National Art Gallery inside the Government Museum Complex, return to dazzle heritage enthusiasts after a long, multi-crore renovation. We take a look inside
There is a wonderfully still moment at the beginning of a theatre production when the audience has settled into its seats and is visited by ghosts of plays past. On a muggy weekday morning at the Museum Theatre, Egmore, time, history and the spirits of actors, musicians, dancers and art aficionados hang heavily in the air, like the newlyfurbished velvet curtains on stage.
The 1896built theatre is part of the Government Museum complex founded by Scottish surgeon
Edward Balfour, an Orientalist, who also pioneered forest conservation and public health in India. This complex on Pantheon Road houses the redbrick colonnaded museum with its prized Chola bronzes and antiquities from the time of Emperor Augustus when seafaring Romans first made landfall in the Indian peninsula; the Connemara library whose stunning interiors compete with its vast literary collection; and the recentlyrenovated National Art Gallery.
The complex was built during the heyday of the British Raj with most of it designed by Henry Irwin — he built the Museum Theatre as a redbrick building in Classical Italianate style. N Sundararajan, Assistant Directorin charge, Technical, Department of Museums, says, “Over time there was seepage from the domed ceiling, leading to mold on the walls. It necessitated renovation which was carried out over three years at a cost of ₹3.4 crores both by the Public Works Department and Jeernodhar Conservators.”
When you cut through a large swathe of time, the one constant that has remained is Museum Theatre as a popular venue for the performing arts. From outside it appears to the viewer in layers, its top crowned with a sash of white paint like a daintilyiced cake. It is also perhaps among the rare few theatres that are surrounded by cannons captured in colonial conquests from far afield as Burma and Tranquebar — among them Tipu Sultan’s tigerhead cannon from the siege of Seringapatam (1799). Up a flight of hewn granite steps is the doublearched, broad colonnaded verandah where the audience gathers in anticipation before walking in through tall teak doors.
A peek inside
The inside resembles an oval Elizabethan theatre where the seating is gallerystyle with the side and central aisles leading to the pit separated by ornate grille work. The pit with its rows of seating closest to the stage has the premium seats. When it was first constructed, the chairs were of wood and early theatregoers brought along a cushion to minimise discomfort. Later, the 550 seats were cushioned. “Now we have reduced the number to 450,” says Sundararajan, speaking of the olive and winecolour upholstered seats. “The space now allows for pushback chairs.”
Electric lights illumined the theatre only in 1909 and airconditioning only by the turn of this century. Earlier, ceiling fans and breeze from the open doors ventilated the hall but the noisy road outside took away from the theatre experience. A grand chandelier hangs from the ceiling and subtle lights mounted on the walls showcase floral plaster work in hues of mustard and white. Above the stage is more ornate plaster work, and the midnightblue and maroon velvet drapes glisten under powerful spotlights.
“The wooden stage has been redone, keeping the trapdoor on the floor intact. The lift that was worked manually and acted as a dramatic tool has now been motorised,” says Sundararajan, adding, “The acoustics continue to be superb; a new audio system has been installed. There has never been a need for an amplifier.”
The Museum Theatre’s acoustics has always been its crown jewel, a fact vouched for by the city’s performing arts community whose darling it has always been. Earlier, even the faintest whisper and sigh on stage could be heard across the theatre, which has seen romance, murder, laughter, and anger unravel over the course of the century.
PC Ramakrishna, thespian and past president of The Madras
Players says, “Museum Theatre is home. We’ve performed here for close to 50 years and there are very few places in India that offer such a rich theatrical experience. I first went on stage here in 1969 for Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, in which actorwriter Girish Karnad too featured. The stage has an apron that allows for the actor to commune with the audience personally. Museum Theatre has ample parking, the rates are reasonable, and of course there is the incredible acoustics. We didn’t use mics upto the 1990s and we somehow got heard. It’s a great place for chamber music too and should be used more for the performing arts. But the changes have to be more than just cosmetic and more cast and crew friendly.” The stage flanked by a generously large greenroom has hosted school annual days, Christmas musicals, jazz and opera concerts and that gold standard it is home to — a stage play. With its return as a performance space, the Museum Theatre continues to remain a solid, touchable survival from the best years of our lives.
On a scalding summer day, the pink sandstone cupolas shine brighter. While cruising down the Pantheon flyover, they catch one by surprise begging a second, curious glance. Further down, the structure teases one by revealing its ornate jharokha (stone window) and intricate arches reminiscent of Mughal architecture — a sight surely uncharacteristic of the chaos that is Egmore.
The National Art Gallery, an architectural marvel that Chennai should be proud of, despite being 115 years old, remains a mystery. Nestled inside the Government Museum campus, the Gallery is now open to the public after being shut for a renovation project that spanned more than a decade, as per official records. The longdrawn out renovation is perhaps the reason why the historical building is alien to young public memory.
An ode to Akbar’s dream doorway, the Bulund Darwaza in Fatehpur Sikri, the structure built in the JaipuriMughal style by Namberumal Chetty in 1909 was designed by Henry Irwin, a regular contributor to the Britishera Madras skyline. It was earlier called the Victoria Memorial Hall, and was one of two buildings meant to honour Queen Victoria. It hosted the Victoria Technical Institute until 1951, when it was christened one of India’s National Art galleries. Most paintings that belonged to the archival section of the museum then were relocated.
“It is Chennai’s only IndoSaracenic structure inspired by Mughal architecture,” says N Sundararajan, Assistant Directorin charge, Technical, Department of Museums.
Today, busloads of (mostly) Architecture students, and a steady stream of visitors and tourists through the day, is a happy sight. There has been an increase of 200 to 300 in footfall per day since the reopening.
Past the mammoth facade, unique for its pale pink palette, and replete with bulbous domes, pointed arches, jaali work, minarets, and stained glass, an amalgamation of Mughal, Persian and Hindu elements that came to prominence in the 19th Century, is a deep hallway, sans pillars. Housed here are over 120 works of art moved from the adjacent Contemporary Art Gallery.
“When cracks were identified on the roof, the building was no longer in a condition to house the paintings. The cement layering was disintegrating,” says J Kalathy, Curator, National Art Gallery.
After years of back and forth, the renovations were sanctioned for ₹12 crores. “Most of the paintings were cleaned by chemical conservation before displaying them again. The broken frames have also been repaired. Apart from that, we have erected panels for the 12 British portraits that were not in a good condition, now saved through chemical conservation.” The upkeep of the facade is hinged on sourcing pink sandstone from
Andhra
Pradesh, adds Sundararajan.
The newly plastered walls of the white hallway broadly categorise the art, some of which are undated, into the schools of Tanjore, Mysore, and Rajput paintings. While some are recreations, specific canvases like that of the portrait of Rani Durgawati, or Jehangir atop an elephant are priceless originals.
While the display lacks a narrative, and is sometimes ambiguous in its descriptors and attributions, this crosssection speaks volumes of the museum’s vast collection. It is important to also note that a more sensible lighting design and the use of nonreflective glass in vitrines, would have helped the viewing experience a great deal more.
The entry into the hallway is flanked by smaller rooms that host abstract canvases apart from bronze and wooden sculptures by the veterans of the Madras Art Movement. The idea was to bring South Indian works of art into focus, adds Kalathy. Some of DP Roy Chowdhury’s rare, poignant works in bronze, and Redappa Naidu’s distinctive strokes that are hard to come by, make for great viewing.
However, the gallery’s small yet brilliant collection of the original works by Raja Ravi Varma (which were conserved in 2020) are an easy crowd puller. Here, one can see the nuances that make a typical Ravi Varma canvas, up close, through The Miser, Yashoda and Krishna, Old Peon Taking a Nap and Mother Preparing Vegetables. The beauty in each of these oils on canvas cannot be contested. “But the most popular work that people specifically come for is Shakuntala. It is a treasure for India,” says Kalathy.
The grand balustrades and vintage hanging lights are now a portal to the past, putting the curious minds of 20somethings to rest as they enthusiastically pose for the camera in front of the facade. A quick selfie with the bronze Nataraja sculpture inside, is next on the agenda. There is no one way to appreciate history.