Interviewed by Debashree Mukherjee
August 19, 2010
26 Blazey Street, Richmond, Melbourne, Australia.
Bombay Talkies Pvt. Ltd. was set up by producer Himansu Rai and his actress wife, Devika Rani Chaudhuri in
1934. With an international crew of German and Indian technicians, Bombay Talkies (BT) played a crucial role
in determining the aesthetic and ideological future of mainstream Bombay cinema. The studio’s “hits” are
credited with the invention of the musical narrative structure that characterizes Bollywood today, and the studio
also served as a formal training institute for a generation of local filmmakers.
The historical centrality of Bombay Talkies is acknowledged in both academic and industrial networks, but
available information is mostly anecdotal or speculative. Today there exists no systematic, scholarly study of
Bombay Talkies’ contribution to Indian cinema. Apart from a handful of film prints at the National Film
Archive of India, the primary evidentiary documents pertaining to the institution are negligible. In an
appropriately
filmi twist, a cache of Bombay Talkies’ studio papers, screenplays, letters and photographs are
now in Melbourne, Australia. Passed on to one of Himansu Rai’s grandsons, Peter Dietze, this unexpected
archive contains publicity stills, official studio correspondence, fragmented screenplays, shooting schedules,
song lyrics, partial budgets, costume charts, and press kits from Rai’s film productions.
Peter Dietze is the second of three grandsons, with Walter being the eldest and Paul, the youngest. Their
grandmother was Mary Hainlin, a German actress and Himansu Rai’s first wife. This first marriage has been a
well-kept secret, which might explain why I was only the third person to have ever consulted these papers. Rai
prematurely passed away in 1940, leaving no known heirs, and Devika Rani was appointed by the Board of
Directors as the Controller of Productions. In 1945, she married the Russian artist, Svetoslav Roerich and
moved to Bangalore. All the documents that are in the Dietze archive today were meticulously maintained by
Devika Rani. It was she who sent them to the curator of the Roerich Museum in New York when she feared that
she could no longer take good care of them. And it was the curator, Mr. Daniel Entin, who decided to finally
send all the materials to Peter Dietze, the only family connection, in Australia.
I had been in email correspondence with Peter Dietze since August 2008, after receiving his contact details from
Dr. Alena Adamkova, Executive Director and Curator of the International Roerich Memorial Trust. With no
information about the actual nature, scope, and holdings of the Dietze Archive, it had seemed quixotic to plan
an actual visit to Australia. However, in the summer of 2010, I finally had the good fortune to visit Melbourne
on an Andrew Sauter travel grant from New York University’s Graduate School of Arts & Sciences. I can now
attest to the singular nature of this archive and its immense significance for Indian film historical research. To
my knowledge, this is the only extant and accessible collection of studio papers from any Indian talkie studio of
this time (1930s – 1940s). I am extremely grateful to Peter Dietze for his warm hospitality and the generosity of
his vision. As you will notice even in this brief interview transcript, Peter is determined to make these rare
papers publicly accessible, a vital sentiment for the future of Indian cinema’s history.
DM: Just to start at the beginning – when did you first learn that you had a little bit of Indian in you? And what
was that like?PD: Well, it was a defining moment for me. Because, for a start, I was in my thirties. I had been brought up as
an Australian of German extraction and my mother never really told me anything about my history other than
what I knew of them immigrating after the war and their German connection.
I found a photo in our attic one day and it looked like me. I asked my mother, “Who’s that?” and she said
“That’s your grandfather”. I said “But he’s Indian!” So from that moment on I’ve developed a passion for
finding out as much as I can about my Indian ancestry.
DM: So, after you chanced upon this photograph in your late thirties what new details did you manage to get
from mother about how your grandparents?PD: Well, when my parents immigrated after the war there was the ‘White Australia’ policy here in Australia at
the time, and you couldn’t have more than 25 percent of another race. So she denounced, maybe not denounced
but didn’t mention that she was Indian, half Indian. She wasn’t very happy with her father, Himansu Rai, who
left her when she was very young. She was only five years old I believe.
DM: As you started to ask your mother more questions what did you learn about your grandmother?PD: My grandmother’s name was Mary Hainlin. She was in a dance troupe called The Indian Players
1 which
was traveling through London. I believe that’s where she met Himansu Rai, and it was Mary that actually went
back to Germany with Himansu and opened up the doors to the film industry, to UFA and introduced him to
Pabst and people of this caliber. And I think that’s where Himansu got his grounding and his ideas for the great
films he was going to make.
DM: When was your mother born and do you know how Devika Rani entered this picture?PD: Nilima Annaliese Dietze, my mother, was born on 15 May 1926 in Munich. We only know that the two
ladies [Mary and Devika] were friends. There are photos of Devika with my mother, of Himansu with Devika
and my mother, and we know through some of the correspondence that Himansu recognized Nilima as his
daughter and wrote specifically about looking after Nilima.
DM: But isn’t that a promise he failed to follow through on? Why did Himansu Rai move to India without his
daughter?PD: That’s a bit sketchy. However he had met Devika along the journey. But this will require more research. I
guess it’s a part of my legacy to follow these things up and time will tell.
DM: I’m also interested in your own opinion about the silent films Himansu Rai made in the 1920s and 1930s.
What kind of filmmaker-producer was he, in your personal view?PD: Well I think that he made the most important of all Indian films. Three in particular:
Light of Asia, the story
of Buddha;
Shiraz, a fictional account of the building of the Taj Mahal and
A Throw of Dice. They’ve all been
restored by the BFI and they continue to play today, all over the world to new audiences who recognize how
important the films are, especially to the Indian wider diaspora.
DM: How do these silent films compare to the next phase of his career when he started working on talkies?
You’ve seen Karma (1933).PD: I think he struggled, just like a lot of great movie stars of that period struggled with the introduction of
talkies. I’ve found his best work in his earlier films and the later film
Karma really was projected as a
Hollywood film rather than a “Bollywood” film I would say.
DM: Going through the studio papers and letters that are in your family archive, what sense do you get of these
early years of transition when Himansu Rai moved to Bombay to set up his own studio?PD: It was obvious that Himansu struggled all through his working life to create that famous film studio, The
Bombay Talkies. Through letters and correspondence we can actually identify a lot of the financial struggles in
trying to achieve such a grand vision for India.
DM: You have visited the Bombay Talkies studio compound as it exists today. How did that go?PD: It was around 2006. I was traveling, actually giving a lecture on Indian cinema to people at the Russian
Center for Science and Culture in Delhi. We put on an exhibition of very personal photos of our family history.
It was at that time that I was introduced to Amrit Gangar and he kindly offered to take me to the site of Bombay
Talkies as it is today. Many people had told me that there wasn’t anything there of any consequence. But
obviously for me with such a passion for Rai’s work, I discovered that generally the buildings are all still there,
while they are dilapidated. You can see the great architecture of the time and also get an idea of what may be
done in the future to preserve that legacy for all Indian people.
DM: You obviously have a very passionate investment in this legacy that you’ve inherited. What vision do you
have for what remains, either through the papers or the studio site in Bombay. Where would you like to see this
headed?PD: As a family we call this material the Dietze Family Archive, which is really the most pristine collection of
documents of any kind from the Indian cinema of that period that are in A1 condition. We are planning to set up
an exhibition, first here in Melbourne as it’s my hometown. Then travel that exhibition throughout Europe, then
America, and eventually to India where I believe it will be appropriate to leave the documents in their original
state on permanent display. That’s our goal. So that as many people as possible can get access to the documents,
once we archive them in the correct manner. That means digitizing them and putting them onto a website that
anybody can access. And the original documents will be something very special for India to enjoy. [Update
from Peter Dietze, May 2014: All the materials have now been digitized as part of the “Bombay Talkies
project” and will soon start to be made available to the public].
DM: Because there are so many narratives about the last years of Himansu Rai’s life, his relationship with
Devika Rani, and the demise of the studio itself, I’d like to get your own, possibly conjectural, version of what
really happened? He was pretty young when he died…PD: He died at the age of 48. Whether it was from pneumonia, whether it was a nervous breakdown, I’m not
sure at all. But it was too young for a person of that caliber. I believe that the stress was the main cause, and
after reading the documents it’s quite obvious that he was under a lot of pressure. Even the change from silent
to talkies must have had a great impact on him.
DM: Has your family been involved in the legal tussles surrounding Devika Rani-Svetoslav Roerich’s estate in
India?PD: The police actually came to see my mother in Australia. They were traveling the world putting an
inventory together of artifacts and pieces that were missing from Devika Rani’s estate. After interviewing my
mother they realized that she was Himansu Rai’s daughter and that she should play an important part in what
was happening with the estate at the time and they asked us to put a case together, which we did. That case is
still ongoing and I believe that whatever happens things will follow their natural course. I’m really more
concerned with following my grandfather’s legacy and making sure that as many people as I can get, in the
world, can get to see how valuable he was to Indian cinema.
DM: One last question – On your own personal journey when you set out to India and Germany, what are some
of the places you visited and the people you met?PD: We [the brothers Walter, Peter, and Paul, and the parents Nilima and Ernest] spent time firstly in Bangalore
where Devika had been living at the time. We spent a lot of time at the Chitrakala Parishat with a wonderful
gentleman named MS Nanjunda Rao who was a personal close friend of Devika Rani. He gave an extraordinary
insight into how, in her later years, she cherished her time with Svetoslav Roerich and they worked together to
build the Chitrakala Parishat which is another legacy of Devika’s.
DM: I believe you made a trip to Bombay to meet former colleagues of your grandfather.PD: Yes, I was lucky enough to meet Ashok Kumar. We sat and enjoyed each other’s company and discussed
Himansu Rai at great length. It was a lot of fun to meet him and his daughter Preeti, both of whom have since
sadly passed away.
(1) The Indian Players was a theatrical company started by Himansu Rai and Niranjan Pal in England during the 1920s. They sometimes put up productions with a mixed cast and also traveled through Europe, so it is possible that Mary Hainlin joined them as an actress at some point.