Roysten Abel On Theatre, Rhythm And Collaboration: 'True Artistic Magic Happens When...' | Exclusive
Roysten Abel blends folk, classical, and contemporary rhythms into a captivating performance, spotlighting indigenous percussion from Kerala and Rajasthan.

Roysten Abel doesn’t just create performances—he crafts immersive, rhythmic universes where tradition and experimentation collide in the most unexpected ways. A maverick of Indian theatre and musical storytelling, Abel’s work blurs the lines between folk, classical, and contemporary expressions, always pushing boundaries while staying deeply rooted in the essence of each art form.
At the Mahindra Percussion Festival, Abel brought his latest sonic exploration—an unfiltered celebration of indigenous percussion from Kerala and Rajasthan, the two places he calls home. But for him, rhythm is not just about beats and patterns; it’s a living, breathing language that tells its own stories. In this candid conversation, he reflects on honoring Zakir Hussain’s legacy, the raw power of live theatre, and why true artistic magic happens when you stop trying to control it.
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Here are the excerpts:
What does it mean to perform at a festival that not only celebrates percussion but also honors Zakir Hussain’s legacy?
It’s always great to perform at the Mahindra festivals. I’ve performed for Mahindra Roots before, but this will be my first time at a Mahindra Percussion Festival, so I’m all ears! I’m not just excited to be a part of it, but also to listen to all the incredible artists performing. I’m curious, eager, and truly looking forward to it.
That said, it’s heartbreaking that we’re doing a tribute to Zakir Hussain. He had so many more years ahead of him—he should have been with us for at least another 15 years. But to see the percussion community come together like this to honour the man who took Indian percussion to the world is truly special.
Any tribute to Mr. Zakir Hussain will always feel too small compared to the incredible mountains he scaled and what he meant to the percussion world. But it’s beautiful to witness so many percussionists uniting to celebrate his legacy.
When crafting a performance for a percussion-focused festival, how do you ensure rhythm takes center stage without overshadowing the story?
First of all, this is not created specifically for a Mahindra Percussion festival. It is an ongoing production—a celebration of the diverse indigenous percussion instruments from Kerala and Rajasthan, my two homes. I see these instruments and the artists who play them as true stars, and I cannot help but put them in the spotlight. They are the heart of this production, and naturally, percussion remains the central focus.
What unique aspects of Indian percussion will your performance explore, and how do they connect to Zakir Hussain’s legacy?
The thing is, this is not created for the thing. So, all I can say is, you know, these are percussion instruments that are in focus and by default and hence being a part of this festival, you know, lends ourselves to actually being able to pay tribute to Zakir Hussain but just by being in the festival with this piece, be true.
Your collaborations span classical Indian artists, folk musicians, and contemporary performers. How do you ensure creative harmony while preserving the integrity of each artistic form?
You see, the very fact that I engage with a folk performer, a contemporary actor, or a classical musician is, first and foremost, because I have immense respect for the artist and the art form. When I step into rehearsals, I completely immerse myself in their world—I get lost in it. And in that process, I begin to see what, in that world, truly resonates with me.
Sometimes, I don’t even need to actively seek it out. The world they create draws me in so deeply that a form emerges on its own, and I simply bear witness to it. From there, I observe, I piece things together, offering only a gentle nudge where necessary. The creative essence of the artist is never something I tamper with—it isn’t even a consideration. If it were, I wouldn’t engage with that artist in the first place.
As a director, my role is to let these artistic expressions shine—to illuminate them in the same way they have illuminated me. I want to share that light with the audience. This is a process, one that unfolds naturally. I never approach it with a fixed idea of doing this or that. I just allow myself to get lost in that world, and from there, things take shape.
Looking at the current landscape of Indian theatre, do you see younger directors pushing boundaries in the same way you did? Are there any emerging artists whose work excites you?
Yes, I’m sure there are many, you know. They don’t have to be like me in the way I’ve done it through my collaborations.
Everyone has their own way of approaching art in today’s day and age. In theatre, there are very good theatre makers like Shankar Venkateswaran, Abhishek Majumdar, Amitesh Grover, and Deepan Shivaram. They all push boundaries in some way.
Do you believe digital platforms, like virtual reality or online streaming, can ever replicate the communal, tactile experience of live theatre? Would you explore those mediums yourself?
First of all, I don’t think it can. This tactile experience is something you badly need, especially in today’s digital world. Getting immersed in it is essential.
To step into a space and experience a communal catharsis is incredibly important. Digital platforms and experiences, on the other hand, often feel lonely. The whole idea is to have a shared, collective experience. When these collective energies emerge and create a certain vibration, and you become part of that, it’s something digital platforms simply cannot replicate.
Theatre, or any art form, began as a communal exchange. That’s the essence of it. And that’s what you want to experience.
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