<p>For over three decades, Rangayana has been the moral and artistic backbone of Kannada theatre. Conceived in 1989 by the visionary B V Karanth as a ‘theatre village’, the Mysuru-based repertory transformed theatre from an occasional amateur pursuit into a full-time, rigorous profession. </p><p>It trained generations of actors, technicians and directors, expanded the Kannada dramatic canon, and carried theatre beyond elite halls into public consciousness through landmark productions and festivals, such as Bahuroopi. Few institutions have contributed as decisively to modernising Kannada theatre while remaining rooted in its folk and social traditions. That legacy is now under strain. </p> .<p>Across Rangayana’s satellite centres in Kalaburagi, Dharwad, Shivamogga, Davanagere, and Karkala, there is a visible thinning of talent. </p><p>Applications for artistes have sharply declined: Kalaburagi received just 17 eligible applications this year, down from 47 in 2019-20; Dharwad, once a vibrant cultural hub, has seen a similar fall. Youngsters trained in theatre increasingly migrate to television serials, films, and digital platforms, where remuneration and job security are far higher. </p><p>With actors paid around Rs 18,000 and technicians Rs 25,000 on short-term contracts, retention of talent has become nearly impossible.</p>.<p>This crisis must be seen in the wider history of Karnataka’s theatre movement. From folk traditions such as Yakshagana and Bayalata, to the professional company theatre pioneered by the Gubbi Company, and later, the modern amateur movement led by figures like K V Subbanna, B V Karanth, Girish Karnad, and Prasanna, theatre has always reinvented itself. Institutions such as Ninasam at Heggodu and Ranga Shankara in Bengaluru sustained this spirit of experimentation and social engagement, with women – from R Nagarathnamma and Chindodi Leela to Arundhati Nag – playing transformative roles.</p>.<p>Rangayana’s troubles go beyond economics. Political interference in appointments has dented its credibility. The appointment of Satish Tipaturu, a Ninasam alumnus, in late 2024 has been welcomed as a return to theatre roots. </p><p>Compounding Rangayana’s woes are the lack of cultural engagement in schools and colleges, shrinking budgets, and a failure to treat the repertory as a research and training hub rather than merely a production unit. Reviving Rangayana requires political vision and artistic humility. Directors must be chosen for theatre competence, not ideology. </p><p>Artists should be offered longer tenures, better pay, and creative freedom. Above all, Rangayana must reclaim its founding vision: as a space for research, dissent, experimentation, and dialogue. If Karnataka’s theatre has long been its conscience, Rangayana must once again become its heartbeat.</p>
<p>For over three decades, Rangayana has been the moral and artistic backbone of Kannada theatre. Conceived in 1989 by the visionary B V Karanth as a ‘theatre village’, the Mysuru-based repertory transformed theatre from an occasional amateur pursuit into a full-time, rigorous profession. </p><p>It trained generations of actors, technicians and directors, expanded the Kannada dramatic canon, and carried theatre beyond elite halls into public consciousness through landmark productions and festivals, such as Bahuroopi. Few institutions have contributed as decisively to modernising Kannada theatre while remaining rooted in its folk and social traditions. That legacy is now under strain. </p> .<p>Across Rangayana’s satellite centres in Kalaburagi, Dharwad, Shivamogga, Davanagere, and Karkala, there is a visible thinning of talent. </p><p>Applications for artistes have sharply declined: Kalaburagi received just 17 eligible applications this year, down from 47 in 2019-20; Dharwad, once a vibrant cultural hub, has seen a similar fall. Youngsters trained in theatre increasingly migrate to television serials, films, and digital platforms, where remuneration and job security are far higher. </p><p>With actors paid around Rs 18,000 and technicians Rs 25,000 on short-term contracts, retention of talent has become nearly impossible.</p>.<p>This crisis must be seen in the wider history of Karnataka’s theatre movement. From folk traditions such as Yakshagana and Bayalata, to the professional company theatre pioneered by the Gubbi Company, and later, the modern amateur movement led by figures like K V Subbanna, B V Karanth, Girish Karnad, and Prasanna, theatre has always reinvented itself. Institutions such as Ninasam at Heggodu and Ranga Shankara in Bengaluru sustained this spirit of experimentation and social engagement, with women – from R Nagarathnamma and Chindodi Leela to Arundhati Nag – playing transformative roles.</p>.<p>Rangayana’s troubles go beyond economics. Political interference in appointments has dented its credibility. The appointment of Satish Tipaturu, a Ninasam alumnus, in late 2024 has been welcomed as a return to theatre roots. </p><p>Compounding Rangayana’s woes are the lack of cultural engagement in schools and colleges, shrinking budgets, and a failure to treat the repertory as a research and training hub rather than merely a production unit. Reviving Rangayana requires political vision and artistic humility. Directors must be chosen for theatre competence, not ideology. </p><p>Artists should be offered longer tenures, better pay, and creative freedom. Above all, Rangayana must reclaim its founding vision: as a space for research, dissent, experimentation, and dialogue. If Karnataka’s theatre has long been its conscience, Rangayana must once again become its heartbeat.</p>
