140802544 Richard Schechner Performance Theory Towoards a Poetics of Performance

8/13/2019 140802544 Richard Schechner Performance Theory Towoards a Poetics of Performance

1/23


2/23


3/23

-rowARD A poErrcs oF pERFoRMANceI 7 l

decorated caveswere in constant use or more than 10,000 years.Whatkind of use?Human bands did nor number more than 40 to 70 indi_viduals, and more than one band used adjacentand overlappi"g;"C*For most of the year bands probably met oniy occasionally, by chance,or perhaps to exchange information and goods. Maybe relationsberween some bands were hostile. But indica"tlrimes whengamewasassembredn one ..;T;:::llj:'ff.r'i.1fruits and nuts were ripe for gathering - a concenftation of'bands tookplace. This stili happens.among the few hunting and gathering p;.pl*left' in the Karahariwith the lKung, at the corrJborees of the AustralianAborigines. The farming.and huniing tribes of Highlands New Guineastageelaborate "payback" or exchange ceremonies on a regular basis(see chapter 4). pirgrimages, famif reunions marked by feastingand the exchange of gifts, porlarches, and ,.going ro,, rhe rhearer areother variations on this same acdon of concentratron, exchange orgive-ar.r1 and dispersal.V and F. Reynolds report a strikingly similar phenomenon amongthe chimpanzees of the Bundongo f"orest n UgurrOu.The Reynolds,account makes me wa.,ceremoniarg"tr.",i,,g,;,l:r::,1::ffir,".:i;:J};, lT'::,,.:;other species.Carner r896:59-6o) wrote hat,accordingo nat ivehearsay,,oneofthe most remarkable abits of the chimpanzee s the kanjoas i t iscal led n the nat ive ongue.The word .. . impl iesmore of the ideaof"carnivar ' " t is ber ievedhat more han one famiry akespart n thesefest iv i t ies. , ' e went on to descr ibehow the chimpanzeesashionadrum from damp clayand wait for it to dry.Then ,, thechimpanzeesassemble y night n greatnumbers nd hen he carnivar egins. neor two wil l beatviolent lyon this dry clay, hi le others ump up an ddown in a wild grotesquemanner.Some of them utter long rol l ingsounds as if t rying to sing .. . and the fest iv ir res ont inue n thisfashion or hours."Apart rom the quest ion f the drum, he accountgivenabovedescr ibes uitewel lwhat occurred n the BundongoFor_est n i ts extreme orm, as we heard t six imes,oncewhenwe werevery lose o thechimpanzees. nly wice,however, id this happenatnight; he our other imes t rastedor a few hoursdur ing he dayt ime.

TOWARD POETICS FPERFORMANCEHUNTINC IRCUITS,EREMONIALENTERS,ANDTHEATERSThe earliesthuman societieswere hunting and gathering bands.Thesebands were nejther primitive nor poor; tn" U"rt evidence suggestsanabundanceof food, small families (iirth control was practiced), and anestablished ange. Humans did not live in one spot, neither did theywander aimlessly. Each band had its own circuit: a more or less ixedroute, through time,/space. I say ,,time/space,, because the huntingschedule was not gratuitous; it took into account the movement ofgame according to its own feeding and mating patterns. The culturallevel - at least in terms of paintlrrgfarrd scutptiig _ was very high: themasterpiecesof the cavesof south-west Europe and the mobire art ofEurasia are testimony enough. Cave art fro- u".y far back exists inmany parts of the world, though nothing comparable to Lascaux,Altamira, and the others has b."r, ,rr.ori"red elsewhere. In briefhumans occupied an ecological niche that kept bands on the move inreguiar, repetitious patterns, following game, adlusting to the seasons,creatrngartlritual.

Repetitious beyond modern calculation: evidence shows that certain


4/23

I 72 rownno A poETtcs oF PERFoRMANcEThe ..carniva|s, 'consisted f pro|onged oise or periodsof hours,

whereasordinaryoutbursts of call ing and drumming lasted a fe wminutesonly.Although t was not possible o know he reason or hi sunusualbehavior,wice t seemed o be associated ith the meeting tacommonfoodsourceofbandsthatmayhavebeenre|ative|yunfamiliar o eachother' (Reynolds nd Reynolds965:4o8-9)

The Reynolds aren'r sure what the carnivals were for - they think itmay signal a move from one food source to another: it occurs whencertain edible fruits are ripe. The nineteenth-century report indicatingsomekindofentertainment(singing,dancing'drummlng)apparentlyromanricized and anthropomorphized the gathering of chimpanzees.But the Reynolds confirmed the nineteenth-century report of a moodofexcitementandweli-beinSpermeatingthemeetingofanimalsfromdifferent bands who are on friendly terms with each other'

Callswere coming from all directionsat once and all groups con-cernedseemedtobemovingaboutrapid|y'Asweorientedthesourceof one outburst,another ame rom anotherdirection'Stampingan dfast-running eetwere heardsometimesbehind,sometimes n frontand howlingoutburstsand prolonged ol lsof drums (as many as 13rapidbeats) haking he groundsurprised s every ew yards'(ReYnoldsnd ReYnolds965:4o9)

Aren't these "carnivals" prototypes of celebratory, theatrical events?Their qualities are worth nothing: 1) a gathering of bands - not indi-viduals - who are neither living with nor total strangers to each other;2) the sharing of food or, at least, a food source; 3) singing' dancing(rhythmic movement), d.rumming: entertainment; 4) use of a place,h"i i, ,ro, "home" for any grorrp it the grounds for the gathering' (Inregard to the last point I note that even in our own culture parties heldin the home use rooms specially marked out or decorated "for theoccasion." while other rooms are more or lessofflimits')

The entertainment aspects of gatherings are of special importance'Western thinkers have too often split ritual from entertainment prlvu-eging ritual over entertainment. It has been accepted wisdom to assert

TowARDA poETrcsoF pERFoRMAr.rcel7 3

that ritual comes first (historically, conceptually), with entertainmentarising later as a derivation or even deterioration of ritual' Ritual is"serlous" while entertainment is "frivolous." Theseareprejudiced cul-ture-bound conclusions. As I tried to show in chapter 4, entertainmentand ritual are braided together, neither one being the "original" oftheother. At celebratory gatherings people are free to engage in behaviorthat would otherwise be forbidden. Even more, special non-ordinary,otherwise forbidden (frequently promiscuous) behavior is not onlypermitted, but encouraged, prepared for, and rehearsed. Behavior dur-ing carnival combines or alternates with prescribed spontanelty withlarge-scale ublic performances.

where two or more Sroups meet on a seasonal schedule, wherethere is abundant food either available or stored, and where there is ageographical marker - cave,hiil, waterhole, etc. - there is likelihood ofa ceremonial center (see figure 5. 1) . Of the many differences between

Figure5. tNoteAt placeswhere seasonalcenters rise.

Camp

hunting places ntersect at a landmark, ceremonial


5/23


6/23

I 76 rownno A poETtcs oF PERFoRMANcE3. To show and exchange dances,songs, stories'Furrhermore,think hese erform."."" Jild rhythms amiliar ous n:

Gathering.Playingout an action or actions.Dispersing.

'" 'lln other words, people came to a special place, did something.that can:be calied theater (and/or dance and music because all ttiib genres arer l.imy, pfiffir*ed together in such situations), and went on their way: 'simple and obvious as this constellation of rhythmically organized

groups approacheachother.The groupscould avoid eachother,meet"i" .o*U"i, p3Lss,each,h:l--bl as travelers{o on5gad' ""d :.o ::'g, iieliiorminf;and drspeffig is a specificallyThe patte{+-of gatherinl

events may seem to be, they are not inevitable when two or more

theatridipattern.fffi'-f"itern occurs "naturally" in urban settings.An accidenthap-p.rrr, oii, causedo happen as n guerrilla theater);a crowd gathers ose" *hat's going on. The crowd makesa circle around the eventor, asin the caseof accidents, round the aftermathof the event.Talk n thecrowd is about what happened, o whom, why; this talk is largelyinterrogative:ikedramas nd courtroom rials,which are ormalver-siorr.oithe srreer ccjdent,lreev6ir-ttself s absorbednto the_oggfrconstructinghot ook loce.n trials'this is dg19 veiUatty, n th:1919-a-A;r$#t ioi'i ig"i" *hJ t"pp".red iii"allv, f,ctionalf,frffiic-iii], r.iigio"tfy)lT6e questionsasked n the crowd are those whichBrechtwanted theateraudiences o askof theater.3 he shapeof thiskind of streetevent a heatedcenterwith involved spectatorsadingof some medieval street theater.aAccidgnts conform to the basic perr',]formance pattern; even after the event is "cleaned up" some writing,marks the site: for example, bloodstains, knots of witnesses and the icurious. Only slowly does the event evaporate and the crowd disperse' 1l

into a cool rim where people come, peer in, and move on - is like that-

call.such vent: eruptions" (see igure5.2)'tin .r,rprioilfii"l?eatrical-performance because t is not the

TowARD A poETrcs oF pERFoRMAnce I 77

Spectatorscome and go

Surroundingcrowd

LOOt

Passersbyoo kover he im,thenmove n

Figure.2An eruPtionNoteAn "eruption" eatures heated enterand a cool rim, wi th spectators oming andgoing.The er uption occurs ei ther af ier an accident or during an event whosedevelopments predictable uch as an argument, r the construct ion r demol i t ionof a bui lding.

accident itselfthat gathers and keeps an audience. They are held by therdeonstructioh or reenactment of the event. In the case of an 1lg$mentor, i ;hlch slowelffi, iHillonstructionof a building#ffied bysidewalksuperintendents,t is the uffi[ing of an eventwhich can bemeasured gainsta predlctablescripi"S6J6fi.iG.F) that gathersandholdspeople.Totally unirianigeableoccurrences 1 f.mng wall, sud]"."dengunfire - scatters eople;only after he wall has al len or when theshootingstopsdoes he crowd C-+Sgrb mlke t -g theater. \Eruptioils ar66ne kind of "natural"s heater, rocessions reanother.Unders6od as a coherent system hey form a bi -51E'rnodel of theperformanceshat rook place n the ceremonialce*EJfiiiich aroseatpoints where Paleolithichunting bands,moving across he terrain ontheirseasonalreks,met. n a processionsee igure 5.3) - which is a


7/23

Planned ventat he end ofthe procession

. l78 roweno A poErtcs oF PERFoRMANcE

Path oftheProcesson

lnformalaudience

However,eruptionsandprocessions anoccursimultaneously, spe'ciallywhen largenumbers f peopleare nvolved and the eadershipof

rowARD A poErrcs oF pERFoRMANce I7 9

a roughly similar thing happened countless times on the hunting cir-cuits of Paleolithic humans. Out of these hunting circuits developedritual clrcuits, meeting places, ceremonial centers, and theaters.

Everywhere theater occurs at special times in special places. Theateris but one of a complex of performance activities which also iileludesritual$3p6it'aridTriilr (dueli, ritual combats, courtroom iiiJr), a"".e,rnu*, ptay@?rious performances in everyday life (see chapter t).Theater places are maps of the cultures where they exist. That is, theateris analogical not only in the literary sense the stories dramas tell, theconvention of explicating action by staging it - but also in tk*af.elu-recronic sense. Thus, for example, the Athenian theater of the fifthcenffiy BCE had as i : ggnter the altar of Dionysus. When the chorusdanced around the altar if was located between the audience and themen who played the dramatic roles. The Greek theater's semicirculartiers of seats - not individuated as in modern the"t"rr-6'rit curvingcommunal benches as in modern sports stadiums - Iiterally..enfoldedthq_d.Iama, containing its agons within the Athenian solidarity (seefigure 5.4). Conceptually this pattern of solidarity-containing-agonwas repeated in the contest among the poets and actors for the best playand best performance. The proscenium theater of theglghreenth to \twentieth centuries n the weit "ff6Tffi*, a definrte, Dur very drnerenr,socio"ifr6Fic esign (figure 5.5).

The Greek amphitheater was open. Beyond and around it the citycould be seen during performances which took place in daylight. Itwas the city, the polis, that was tightly boundaried geographically andideologically. On the other hand, the proscenium theater is a tightlyboundaried, closed individual building with ic&ss from the streetstricSi"controlled. Within the part of the structure where the perform-ance takes place and is viewed much effort is spent in directing atten-tion only to the stage; everything not in the show is hidden or sunk indarkness.The building, like rhe events within it, is compartmentalized;the time for the audience to look at each other is regulated and islimited to before the show and to intermissions.The proscenium theater is divided into five precincts (see figure5.5). Theater w-o1\ersenter through a backstagedoor unseen by theticket-buying pii.onr. This is a version of the industrial practice ofseparl$ng the fii6iy where goods "r" produclJ from the store where

Crowdwatchesprocessionpass by;some oin and go onto the goal

Figure .j A processionNoteA procession as a ixed outeand a knowngoal .At several ointsalong he way, he.processionstops and performancesare played.As sPectatorswatch he procession'passby,some may oin and go on to the goal .

kind of pilgrimage - the event moves along a.,prescribed path, spec-tatorsgatheralong he oute,ind'ai appointedplibeS hepfficessionh-als.rra p1lfor*..r.&-r." played. r"t149t, funeral corteges, ItoliiffiI*"r.h.r, and the Prye-4.1nduppetTheaterareproE&3ions'u*U3uatly a proceisionmoves o'e g.oall-the-fdheralo the grave, hepolitical *.r.h to the speakers' ta;A]he circusparade o the big-top'the pilgrimage to the shrine' The eventperformed at the goai of thepro."rJon ii the oqp-ositeof an eruption: it is well planned for'rehearsed.itualized.

a group is flexible.The meeting of bandsof chimpanzeesn the Bun'dJrgo Forest s both eluptive and processional:-ita known place n akrro*r, circuit, the abundince of food coupledwith the encounterwithstrangebands riggersan eruption of the "carnival'" It is my belief


8/23

Figure.4 TheAthenianheater

goES*"to city

The heater Adioins other theaters

Figure5.5TheprosceniumheaterNoteThemodern heater ui lding s not n tsel facentral tructure t he heart fa c learlyboundaried ol is.That structure i f i t exists t al l - is the stadiumor Superdome.Theaters re bui l t in "theaterdistricts,"one neighborhood n a rather l l -def ined"urban area." The prosce-1iumheatel i$"eJf s divided into fiveareas: r) sidewalkundermarquee, ) lobby, ) house,4) stage, nd 5) backstage. ixed eating ointsthe audience oward the stage. The stage floor is open and often slightly raked,t i l t ing he action oward he house.Stagemachinerys hidden n the wingsand l ies,making quick scene changespossible.The lobby,which extends nto the street \under the theater marquee, s a gathering place for the audiencebefore he iperformanceand during ntermissions.

NoteNested at the center of the Athenian theater was the oPen eye of the $]Jg-ofDionvsus.Aroundi tdancedtheChorus,giv ingacoreofsol idari tyfortheagonist icr'ffi i?i of tn. actors.The audiencenestedboth Chorusand, gtors But he agon otthe contest mong po"ts i id actors or the prizes urrounded he whole heatricaleveht.yet the soliJarityof Atheni, the polis,pT-*ia"a the ultimate nest or the entire-sequenceof performancesand contests' Eachagon was literallyheld in a nest otrc l idari ty.Theouternest-thepol is-wd(iotmEtaphorical :-t f f idw;E-ff fni tegeilra,phical, deological, nd social imits to Athens;and eachpersonknewwhat itwas o be a citizen.The shapeofthe theaterwas a versionofthe socialsystemwhichalternatedagon and solidarity; t was open to debateand interrogation'but closedaboutwho was or was not a member, c i t izen'

I r) Sidewalkndermarquee i

5) Backstage, ffices,


9/23

I 82 rownno A poETtcs oF PERFoRMANcEthey are sold' In a way the proscenium theater combines factory andstore in one bui-Iding but with clear)y defined areas The spacesoccu-pied by thd pubtic I -"rqrr." area, lobby, and

house - are gaudilydecoratedref lect inganambit iontoappeal. .ar istocrat ic ' ,or . .high-rclass." The spacesLccupied by the workers - stage and backstageresemble ind,ustrial workspaces, functional' sparsely decorated' raw''and full of necessarYequiPment'

i' The house is divided into different classes of seats' some betterthan others, but even the cheap seats are individual units' (In olderproscenium theaters the cheap seats were literaily benches' only theii.h *.r. entitled to individual places.) The box searsare placed so thatP-*iSnc sitting there can be see4-by other spectators t Before the playSegins a curtaln conceals most of the stage liing the seats.However,even when this temporary barrier is lifted' patrons are no -longerallowed on stage as they were during the Restoration' nor do tneyusuallySeetheactualwallsofthetheaterbuilding.Thesearemaskedbyflats or sets: faise architectural elements depicting various scenes'

The stage is architecturally separated from the house by the pro-scenium arch, the proscenium theater's most unique and dominatingfeature. The arch is actually a framed wall with its center portionremoved so that literally the audience is in one room and looking intoanother.Thewal lseparat ingthetworoomsisonlyportio l lyremoved.The arch itself emphasizes this incomplete removal' As the prosceniumtheaterdevelopedfromtheseventeenththroughthetwentiethcentur-ies the forestage iutting into the house receded until it all but vanished,eliminating any sharing of space between the stage and house' Theopen-theater -ouarnant of ttre twentieth century has once again madethe playing spacepart of the viewing space'This has been attempted inmany variations - thrust stage, arena, environmental theater' In theproscenium theater the part of the stage visible to the audience is asurprisinglysmallportionoftheareabehindtheproscenium.IntheGreek theater .lmost .t "ry spacewas visible' as well as the city andJ5il"irvria. behind and around the theater. In the prostelri*m theaterthe wings, flies, dressing-r6oms, offiCes, and storage b'irsare dll con-cealed.Th.,t,g"andbackstageportionsofthebuildingusuallyoccuPyfr6*r'e than half the area of the theater, but from the house the stagelooks much less spacious than the house' Flies and wings were

rowARD A PoErlcs oF PERFoRMAT'rce. |83

developed to facilitate quick changes of scenery - visual surprises.Additional storage space was necessary as productions involving bulkyscenery were kept for future productions; dressing-rooms becamemore ornate as costumes and makeup increased in complexity. Thestage space of the proscenium theater is an efficient engine for quickscene changes and mounting sumptuous effects; this theater produces"numbers" and coups e hidtte ike a many-course meal at an expensiverestaurant. Usually every attempt is made to hide how effects areachieved. Dramas written for the proscenium usually include one ortwo intermissions because it's necessary for patrons to see eachother, evaluate the product they've purchased, drink, smoke, andre-experience he thrill and surprise ofthe rising curtain.Theaters are located in a theater district; performances are offered atthe edge of workdays, "after work" or on weekends and general holi-duyr, thduie, is a place to go **h"n work is finished, it is not meant tobe a rival of work. Because t is a model of the mercantile process,and aproduct itself of the working middle-class, the modern theater can'timpede that process. Nor is it proper for the theater to entice panonsfrom their jobs (except on Wednesday afternoons, matin6es tradition-ally reserved for blue-haired non-working ladies). Movlg1and baseballare different: they are offered asalternatives to work, though night baliis the iiirjmmodation of thd big leagues to the workday. The theaterdistrict * often also a sex and restaurant district - stimulates consumerappetites by offering a series of shows just as each show offers asequence of scenes. Competition is fierce among theaters - t_r-isom-petition is for custo.mers not prizes; when prizes are given they areused to attract more customefs. Regardlessof their artistic quality, mostshows ail (which means they don't attract buyers), but hits run as ong Iaspeople will pay to see hem. Thus, in all these ways, the prosc_eniur.rr" :1,,.,theater is a model of capitaiism. Today, as capitalism evolyes-into cor-poratis-m, new klfd$-O.f-theater arise. Cultural Sgnters and re6lgaalgpg"tt - art fortressesun by impresarigs .ffiu.r, by boards*Ildir-dctors'- are examples of corpor_4$sm. Environmental theaters - built incheap hit-and-rrrn ,p"."r, iiffi in out-of-the-way neighborhoods -exemplify a resistance and alternative to the conglomerates. Butenvironmental theaters exist only in the creases of contemporarysociety, iving offthe leavings, ike cockroaches.


10/23

n

. |84 rownno A poErtcs oF PERFoRMANcECreasesare not marginal, on the edge, but iiminal, in between' They

run through the actual and conceptual centers of society, like faults inthe Earth's crust. Creasesare places to hide, but more importantly theysignal areas of instability, d.isturbance, and potentially radical changesin-the social topography. TheSd-Changes re always "changes in direc-tion," that is, challg*esof something mor-e than technique' In the urbanenvironmenr, in pilies abandoned, or nbt yet reclaimed, individualsand small groups can still work. Even n large, apparently smooth opera-tions like corporations and universities, creases exist; Iook for them'quite literally, in "out of the way places'" Crease phenomena do nottr"rrrfo.- existing neighborhoods instantly, is when bulldozers heraldthe erection of a new cultural center whose monuments rest on mur-dered neighborhoods, bur srep by step through infiltration and renova-tion. At the time when a balance/tension existsbetween several classes,income levels, nterests, and uses- as was the case n the 1960s and1970s n New York's SoHo district - crease henomena - experimentalart, bars, caf6s, and clubs, Iively street performances' parties wherearrisrs congregate - peak. But when a threshold of visibility and "stabil-ity" is,c-1ossed, he neighborhood,"fre-ezes n a new form' becomes an,,aftracrion" (like the rhearer dlstrlci wt ich draws'frost of its life fromoutside its ovm precinct) and the crease s smoothed out. Then artists -and others who need a creaseenvii6iment - follow along' or create' anew fauit.

Theaters everywhere are scenographic models of sociometric pro-cess.pointing out that "most of the traditional theater performancesiof India] are open-air events, organized on the level ground' a plat-forn', ,,.g", or as a mobile processional spectacle, SureshAwasthi goeson to sav:

tu '

They are presented n fields after he harvest, treets,oPen spaces'outside own (oftenpermanently esignatedor performances)'airs'marketsand - especial lyor the Ramayana nd the Krishna egendshows temple gardens, iverbanks, arketsquares, nd courtyards'. . . The performancesare socialeventsnot sep-qratedrom'-tlg com-mua1t13g11yity.hracior is an activemembeiof his community'He isalsol farmer, a mechanic,a carPenter, fruit vendor,a vegetablehaWGi . . . An important actor that determines he nature of th e

scenograPhYn this theatertreatmentof time and Place.

TowARD A PoErlcs oF PERFoRMAT.TCT.|85

is the nonrealisticand metaphysical ir....\:(Awasthi974:35-8)

Traditional Indian theater is vg1' like western medieva-I,heater - andmodern avant-garde or experimental theater.The performer often has asecond or third occupation, but this does not mean that his skills as aoerformer are amateurish; far from it, a connection to a communitymay d""p"n all aspects of his art. The flexible treatment of time andspace - the abiiity of one space to be transformed into many placesthrough the skills of the performer more than through the illusionisticdevices of the scenographer - goes hand in hand with a transforma-tional view of character (role doubling, role switching) and a closecontact with the audience (the performer both as character and asstory-teller, the use ofsuch devices as he aside and direct address o theaudlEite). This connectedness - a mobiiity among spheres of realityrather than social mobility in the modern sense - is an importantquality of traditional performances, and even the avant-garde' Thiskind of total theater is nowhere better expressed than among theAborigines:

The daily ifeof the Aboriginess rewarding ut routine'There s a kindof low-keypace o the everyday ound of l iving. n their ri tual ives,however, he Aboriginesattain a heightened enseof drama. Sharpimages appear and colors deepen.The Aboriginesare masters ofstagecraft nd achieve emarkable isualand musicaleffectswith thel imitedmaterials t hand. . . Gradually experiencedhe central ruthof Abor ig inal e l ig ion:hat t is not a th ing by tsel fbut an nseparablepart of a whole that encompasses veryaspect of dai ly l i fe, everyindividual nd ever ime - Past,Present nd uture. t is nothing essthan he theme ofexistence, nd as suchconstitutes ne ofthe mostsophist icated nd unique el ig ious nd phi losophical ystems nownto man. (Gould 959: ro3-4)8

We are accustomed to a theater that locates "the real" in relationshipsamong individual people; but most of world theater takes a broader,


11/23

. l86 rownno A PoErlcs oF PERFoRMANcE

'1,.-

.{

and deeper,view of what's real' Mo4ern western theater s mimetic'ir"ditiorr"l the3 er, ndagail I include th*e v$larde in this c-tegory't iro*totfiotio-'ni' eatinS:o;-incarnating n a tilEiter placewhat cannot;;"=i;'6Av*t'.r" "hJ. Just ll-flarm is a field *heie ediule-fibods re;H;;*afi", is aplacewhere transformations-t--ll*t:ql"*l ldi.rporrt (humarran*non-hufrefr"fare accomplished'Aborigine scen-;gr;phy .r"",", theaterout of a combiniiioffif natural and built ele-ments.Each ock,waterhole, ree,andstreim is embeddedn a natrix oflegend and dramatic action' Thus a particular place s where a cere-*'ony t"t ", place,where a mythic event has happened

n the past'*fr.r" U.rng, manifest themselves hrough songs and

dances' and*h.r" euery-daynd specialactionsconverge for example'a water-hole s both " p1.." wlelepeople come o drink andrvhere, eremonies;;;;.;;. it*pr. *oalnttti""s of space ransform the drinkingplace (or some other multiple-use space) nto a theater:clearing the"r." oi small rocks, doing sandor rock paintings,

for example;or a;;.. *"y becomea heatt by being "Iearned" - anovice s taught heiJg."ar, ,orrgr, "nd dancesassociatedwith a particular place:

geo-orl"onu tsef ls sotialized; he uninitiated seenothing but an outqop-fi"rt;';i t*--oi".- *ut"'r'ole; while the initialed experiencea dense*i1rt."f setting.This technique of creatingii theaier placeby poeticmeans s usedby Shake8rcarend the makersof guerrilla th94er alike'

TRANSFORMANCESVictor Turne \197 +) analyzes "spgial

dramas" using theatrical 'ter-minology to describe how disharmonic or crisis situations are-.dealtwith. These situattons - arguments' combats' rites of passage - areinherentlv dramatlc because participants not only do things' they show'

^'.. thrrnr4u*ondothers hot heyore loing r hove one; ctions takeon a leflglve'*;";";m''@Tirins Goffman(1e5e) is as

direct asTurner rn using *re theatrical-pgradigm' 6fuan believesallsociai nteractions re 'iugta - ptop1ffi"p"re their social oGs..(vari""t ta;r."".';, ;tSrt, Iiff"""t techniquesf roleo]ttTtJ^'iS5r stage"'and then enter the "m-ti}-stage" areas n order to play out l


12/23

'188TOWARD A POETICS OF PERFORMANCEthere; the way it is distorted gives an insight into dramatic stlucture.For example, in woiting for Godot here is breach (the separation fromGodot) and crises (waiting, the arrival of the Boy at the end of each actto teli Gogo and Didi that Godot will not come). There is a negative butextended redressive action: the doing of various bits of "nothing" -talk that has no effect on the dramatic action, vaudeville routines thatfi.ll up time but achieve nothing: these routines emphasize all that thecharacters can (not) do. But in Godot here's no reintegration, nor isthere a schism. The piay rimply stbps and if iny future is suggested itsimplyt6iitinues the present indefinitely' Significantly the play endswith stagedirection "They do-not ggY-e."Most other dramas, the playsof Shakespeareand lbsen, for example, end either with a iourney -toget crowned, to go to the grave to dispose of corpses, to go to theiuthorities ro relate what's happened - or with some reintegrativegesture such as Tesman's determination, at the close of HeddcGabler,oreconstruct Lovborg's manuscript. Life literally "Cgglgn This move-ment which ends so many dramas is akin to the lto, mi550 stwhichconcludes the Mass: t is a dismissal of the audience, a signal within thedrama itself that the theatriiii'event ii ctrming to a close, that thespectators must prepare to move on. The audience disperses, spreading,h" ,r.*, (good or bad) of the show. Even a play as non-conventionaland non,religious as Mothercourcge ndHer childlen follows this nearlyuniversal p"rt.rrr. The play climaxes in scene 11 with the murder ofKattrin, Courage's last child. The next and final scene shows Courage'by means of the lullaby and funeral arrangements, taking leave ,of herdaughter. The play's tag - comparable to the final couplets of Shake-,p"*."r, drama - is Courage's shout as she hitches herself to herwagon, "I've got to get back into business'Hey, take me with you "the last action of the piay is Courage marching off, on the move again'The song is the same as that which started the play, but played at a,lo*.r t"mpo: is this stubborn determination or tragic stupidity?Whatever the meaning of the last sigtiind sound' - and meanfi$'willvary according to different mises-en-scinethe action is clear: courage ison the road, walking and working.

Turner further asserts that the 1@ +al-Fhases of the rites of tribal'agrarian, hunting, and tradiliolal sbcieties are an-aiogoui t-o the ilt-works and leisure aclivilies of indls.trial and post-industrial societies.

TheseTirrner (1982, 1985) calls "lmrngid," meaning hey are ikefr'nt"a**t but not-i-depti,9{o them. Basicallyiminai rite-s r6i6Jig-atory while liminoid ar6-;a entertainmenisare,,oluntary'However,th" qrr"stion remains: s Tirrner's our-phasepatterffif breach,crisis,redressive ction, and reintegration (or schism) acgafly a theatricaluniversal or.llir-an imposition of a western co.-4cept?urnei*Sho*sfrow h" social processof the Ndein6ir of Uganda conforms to thisdramatisticparadigm. l -ggpld show how Aborigf1e, Papua NewGuinea,and Indiao--theaier lso,conform.But what is the cost of thisconformity? As Clifford Geertznotes, "the drama analogy . . . canexpose some of the profoundes-t eatures of social-process' but atthe expense of making vividly disparate m4tte$ look drablyhomogeneous"1980a: 73).I want to go beyondwhat may be, after all, just an elaborate auto-logy. The basic performance structure of gathering/performing/dispersing nderliesand iterally contains, he dramatlc structure:

The bottom iine is solidarity, not conflict. C"qgt_.j. it supportable (inthe theater, and perhaps in society too) only insld 1n;g 11[i.rom theagreement ta.g4l:her at a specific time and place, to perform - to dosomething igreed on - and to disperse once the friltiimance is over.The extreme forms of violence that characterize drama can be playedout only inside this nest. When people "go to the theater"e they areacknowledgin[friit th""te. takesplace at special times in special places.Surrounding a show are special observances, practices, and rituals thatlead into the performance and away from it. Not only getting to thetheater district, but enteqing the buitding itself involves ceremony:tickertaking, passing through gates, performing rituals, finding a placeirom which to watch: ail this - and the procedures vary from culture toculture, event to event - frames and defines the performance. Endingthe show and going away alid involves ceremony: applause or sometormal way to conclude the performance and wipe away the reality of

..TOWARD A POETICS OF PERFORMANC

Breach{risis-Redressive action-Reinte gration


13/23

,l ' '1 :-: \l-''1r\ 'I t '' e- "'

190 roweno A poErtcs oF PERFoRMANcEthe show re-establishing in its place the reality of everyday iife. Theperformers even more than the audience prepare and then, when theshow is over, undertake "cooling-off' procedures ln many culturestiiii looting off involves rituals to retire props or coslumes or to assistperformers out of trance or other non-ordinary states of being' Toolittle study has been made of how people - both spectatorsand per-formers - approach and leaveperformances. How do specific audiencesget to, and into, the performance space; how do they go from thatspace? n what ways are gathering/dispersing related to preparation/cooling ofi?

The "theatrical frame" allows spectators to enioy deep feelingsr without feeiing compelled elther to lntervene or to avoid witnessi.ng

the"iiiions that arorije those feelings. A spectator better not prevent themurders occurring in Hcmiet.Yet these stagemu-rders are not '1195-1eal"but "differently real" than what happens in evs1y-dayife Theater, to beeffecti re, *nti *"itttaln its double or incomplete Presence, as a here-I qnd-now perlormoncef tliere-and-thenvents. he gap between "here andnow'; and "there and then" allows an audierice to cont-e:nplate theaction, and to entc.I]lainalternatives. Theater is the art of enacting onlyone of a range of virtual alternatives. It is a luxury unaffordable inordinary life. Oedipus ould be much different if there were a plagueaffiicting the town where the drama was being played and the audiencebelieved the plague would end if the murderer of their former mayor -a murderer they knew to be concealed in their midst - was found andbrought to iudgement here and now.some people want performance to achieve this level of actuality. Asrhearer approaches this llmit it changes fundamentally: small realactions are substituted for big fictional semblances. A female has herbody scarredor a male is circumcised.These "real actions" are them=selves emblems or symbols. But when the theatrical frame is imposed,strongiy it permits the enactment of "aesthetic dramas," shows-frh-dSeactions, Iike Oedipus poking out his o#n eyail are extreme but recog-nized by everyone, including the performers, as a "playing with'lrather than a "real doing of," itti, "playing with" is not weaii ;i:"fdhe'it .unt"t changes o both performers and spectators' '

People who want to make "everything rea1," including killing ani'*als, lhe "art" of self-mutilation, or "snuff films" where P,eolle ue

\i ,, .i rowARD A poErtcs oF pERFoRMANce 9lactually murdered,'o are deceiving themselves f they think they arexpproaching a deeper or more essential eality. A1l of these actions -ft" tft" Roman gladlatorial games or Aztec human sacrifices - are assymbolic and make-believe as anything'iise on sta ge. What happens isthat living beings are reified into symbolic agents. Such reification ismonsrrous, I condemn lt without exception. It is no justification topoint out that modern warfare does the same, kili ing "things" at adirtrr,..". Nor will these blood performances act as a cathartic: violencereplicated, oi actualized, stimulate-s mor.'e-.violence . It also deadenspeople's abilities to intervene outside the theater when they seeviolencebeing done.

Turner locates the essential drama in conflict and conflict resolution..l locate it in tronsformction in how people use theater as a way totsp"rim"nt with, act out, and ratlfy change. Transformations in theateroccur in three different places,-and at three different levels: 1) in thedrama, hat is, n the story;112) in the performers whose special ask tis to undergo a temporary reanangementf their body/mind, what I call a"transportat ion" Schechner 985: 117-51):3) in the audiencewherechanges may either be temporary (entertainment) or permanent (rit-ual). A11over the world performances are accompanied by eating anddrinking. In New Guinea, Australia, and Africa feasting is at the verycenter of theater; in modern western theater a show without some-thing to eat or drink at intermission or iust before or after the theater i.sunusual. This action recalls not only the chimpanzee carnivals but thehunting circuit; it suggests hat theater stimulates appetites, hat it is anoral/visceralart (seeKaplan 1968). And, as L6vi-Strausqtras hown, thebasic transformation from raw to cooked is a paradfdr.If culture-making: the making of the narural nto the human. u *.i it'i deepesr euelthis is what thearer is "about," the ability t" flfiL and conrrol, rotransform the raw into the cooked, to deal with the most Dioblematic(violent, dangeFots, sexual,' l6oo) human inreracrions.At all levels theater includes mechanisms for transformation. At thelevelof the staging here are costumes and masks, exercisesand incan-tations, ncenseand music, all designed o "make believe" in the literalsense to help the performer make her,/himself into another person orbeing, existing at another time in another place, and to manifest thispresencehere and now, in this theater, so that time and place are at least


14/23

192 TOWARD A POETICS OF PERFORMANCEdoubled. If the transformation works, individual spectatorswill experi-ence changes n mood and/or consciousness; hesechangesareusua\temporary but sometimes they can be permanent' In some kinds ofperformance - rites of passage, or example - a permanent change inthe sratus of the participants is accomplished. But all these changes arein the service of social homeostasis. Chang_T affecting individuals orgroups help maintain the balance of the whole- system' For exampie,it's necessary o change girls into women (in an initiation rite) becausesomewhere else within the system women are being changed intodead people (ln funeral rites); a vacancy exists that must be filled'These vacanciesdon't occur on a simple one-to-one basis,but accord-ing ro sysrem-wide probabilities. It is less easy to see how this works inan aesthetic drama, say a performance of Eugene O'Neill's long DoytJourneyntoNight.The ke.y -difference between social and aesthetic dramas is the per-formancq of the transformarions effected. Some kinds of so*ial dramasuch as feuds, tgals, ""ii;t-t "tr it permanelll*qhange ln other kindsof performance which share quallties -b-gth of social and aestheticdrama - rites of passage,political-ceremonies - changes in status arepe.rs*.+ent (or at least canno,t li-rindone except through more ritual) 'while changesn thlbgdy iii "ith"t-1-potary - the wearing of somecostume or not severe: iercing an earor septum,circumcision' Theordeals which are features of initiation rites, though extreme relative toordinary experience are temporaiy. But the idea of these body mark-'ings, aiterations, and ordeals is to signal and/or mark and enforce apermanent change in the participants. In aesthetic drama no p-erman'ent body .h"tgJ is effected. A gap is intentionally opened--liei*eenwhat happen;-iJ tft. -gU4.t in the story and what hdppens to theperfolilL-9ls,playing that story. To play a person in love, or someonewho murders or is murdered (common enough in western theater) ' orto be transformed into a god, or to go into a trance (commonenough in non-western theater) involves fundamental, if tem-porary'transformations of bein g, no1 melq appearance'

Aesthetic ditrna woffi itJ transformations on the audience. In aes-thetic drama the audience is separated Uottr iitualty and conceptuallyflrom he performers.This separatenessf the audiencen the hallmark'of aesthetic drama. In social-drama all present are participantS, ihoug\

rowARD A poErrcs oF pERFoRMANce 93some are more decisively involved than others. In aesthetic dramaeveryone in the theater is a participal1 i1 the ?e,*rmoncewhile onlytiiose piaying.roles in the drama are participants in the dramonested*ufrt" th. p"ifoi*.o.e (see chapter 3). The p"tfot.tt*i" as distinctfrom the drama.is social, and it is at the level of performance thataestheticand sociai drama converge.The function of aestheticdrama isrc do for heconsciousnessf the oudience hot sociol romodoesor its participcnts:oroviding a place for, and means of transformation. Rituals carry parti-.ip".t,r across limens, transforming them into different persons. Forexample a young man is a "bachelor" and through the ceremony ofmarriage he becomes a "husband." His status during that ceremony,but only then, is that of "groom." Groom is the liminai role he playswhile transforming from bachelor into husband. Aesthetic dramacompels a transformation of the spectators' view of the world by rub-bing their sensesagainst enactments of extrem e events, much moreexrreme than they would usually witness. The nesting pattern makes itpossible for the spectator to reflect on these events rather than flee fromthem or intervene in them. That reflection is the liminal time duringwhich the transformation of c onsciousness akesplace.

The situation for the actor in aesthetic drama is complicated becausethe drama is repeated many times and each time the actor is supposedto start from nearly the same place. In other words, in western theaterat least, although spectators come and go, and they are encouraged tochange, techniques have been developed to prepare actors for, andbring them down from, the experience of playing relatively unchanged- no more changed than any ordinary career changes a person. Meta-phorically speaking, the actor is a circular printing press who, in roll-ing over makes an impression on her audience; but she is not ready toroll over again untll she is back in her ori ginal posi tion. For eachperformance there is a new audience on whom an impression is to bemade. The actor makes a journey that ends where it began, while theaudience s "moved" to a new place. In aesthetic drama techniqueshave been develooed to transform the actor into the role and othertechniques are used to bring her back to her ordinary self. In someritual theater the officiators are very like actors in aesthetic drama: theshamanworking a cure must effect change in the patient, and oftenaoes this by transforming into anorher being; but at the end of the


15/23

I 94 rownno A poErtcs oF PERFoRMANcEperformance the sham4l must return-to-her/his ordinary existence. Itis the ability ,o ,,g"rlilo,' and .,get back from" that makes rhe shamana continually ."ftt'friiirtt, not a ferson'tobe usedonceonly' Thusthere qe t easthree ategoriesf performance:-1).eiihelic'hererhe audience hanges onsciousnesshile the performer rolls over";2-) itual, *her" t# subieciof ,h" ..,.*ony is transformedwhile the#ciating performer "rolls over"; 3) sociaidrama,where all i.nvolvedchange see chebhner985:117-50)'The ambiguity of theatersince 1950 regardingwhether or notevent is "r"illy h^pp"ning" is an outcome of the blurring of theboundaries between the categories of performance' Eieie{ion hasmade it possible to theafiicalize qp.erience by editing even the molintimate or horrendous events nto "news" so that people feei nothinsrange about a complementary actualization of art (see Schec1985: 295-324). The boundaries between "art" and "life" are bland permeable.when peoplewatch extremeevents nowing thesear$1) actuallyhappeningand 2) edited to make the eventsboth morgdramatic and more palatable, fitting them into a "showtime" fobut aisoknowing 3) thaLasobservershey arestrippedof ali'potoflr-rtervention that s, they are urned into an audience n thesense - the reaction of anger quickly dissolves into paralysis andpair, or indifference. Maybe apPetites are aroused, but these can't tsatlsfied except by going on the shopping sprees he commercials insi.." ,r.."rr"ry for happiness.Emotional feedback s not possiblewatching TV f{.1s not a two-way communications system astheater is. Some"-people react by making and/or--enioyingthat;i more "real," introducing into aesthetics

the interventionsfeedback eliminated from ordinary life.

Thus it is-4o longer strange in theater or performance artthe audience directly in the story, to stage actual encounterspeopicl-ind to use theatricaleventsai the first step in a processrellgious refieats and meetings (as.-Grotrcwskidid) ' These are attto r=egainsome balance between--inToTmation - which todaywhelms people - and action, which seems more and more dificulteffect.Terrorism,as opposed o ordinary streetviolence' is a waygetting the auention of society,of mqklag3-shg1y;t is a symptorrthe Uisic dysfunction of the communication-feedback

4-\ \a "r $ TowARD A PoETlcs oF P ERFORMAT.TCe. l95acdon process. The actualization of art - the existence of theatercombining the sociai with the aesthetic - is tradltional in many partsof the world. Thus avant-garde and political theater find alreadypreParedpaths'

I have tried in my work with The Performance Group and since, andin my teaching, tEJilaeethe actuality of perfciiilItGs in the immediatetheatrical event I am staging. I emphasize the gathering and dispersingaspects of performance. Upon entering the theater spectators areereeted, either by me or by the actors. Spectators see the performance6.i"g-irt.p"t"d - actors getting Tjgcostume, musicians tuning up,technical equipment checked, etc. Intermissions, and less formalbreaks in the narration such as scene shifts, are underlined. In MotherCourugefull meal was served during intermission * during this breakin the narration the performance was carried on by other means, bymingling performers and audience, by encouraging spectators to useparts of the space otherwise and at other times reserved for the per-formers (see chapter a). I try to establish non-story-telling time as anintegrai part of the whole performance scheme, while cleariy separat-ing this time from the drama. When the drama is over I speak tospectators as they are leaving. I direct many of them to where theperformers are so that-tfii experience ends not with a dramaticmoment, or even the curtain call, but with discussions, greetings, andl ^ - . . ^ . ^ l - : - ^^c4vc- td[ l l IX) .

The histJry of intermissions in the western theater is an interestingexample of the importance of the underlying social event as a nest forthe theatrical event. When performances were staged outdoors (Greek,medieval, Ellzabethan) the spectators could see each other in daylight.The court performances of masques and dramas in the Renaissancewereso it that spectatorscould see each other as well as he actors. This kindof general illumination, and a mixing of focus including spectators aswell as actors, Continued throughouttheieventeenth and eighteenthcenturies. But as scene changes began to netessitate complicatedmaghinery which producers wanted to mask from the audience, theIroIIt curtain was introduced and step by step the forestage was elimin-ated. Also changes in lighting, especially the introduction first of gasand then eiectricity in the nineteenth cenrury, widened the gapDetweenstageand house until the stife was brightly lit andlhe ho use


16/23

. |96 rownno A poErrcs oF pERFoRMANcEdark. In this situation naturalism arose,with its slice-oflife and peep-ing-Tom staging. Along with these conventions came the intermission:a formal period when the house was illuminated and the spectators,either remaining in the house or trouping to lounges and restaurants,had the opportunity to see and mingle with each other. The intermis-sion served a purpose, not necessary either in outdoor or fully lit'theaters: that of giving the spectators a chance to see themselves"Inter4rlission confirms the existence of the "gatheri4g," a group,assembled specifically to attend this particular theatricai event. Whydon't movies have intermissions? Becausemovies lack a group of live'entertainers on stage, they are barely social at all. Sporting events arg'social, and feature intermissions (halftime, seventh-inning stretch, ,acard of bouts or races). Performances which keep the audience in thedark with no intermission generate anxiety and contradict the socialimpulses of theater. I do not condemn such performances, but notethat they run against the grain of the western tradition; in the deepestsense hey are unconventional.

My directing is intended to show the audience that "a story is bein$played for you, all around you, needing your active support." Thesetechniques emphasize the "performance nest" inside which thehappens. Performers in The Performance Group were trained totheir double identities: as themseives and.as-the.characters theyplaying By keeping heseboth out front spectators eeperformersonly ;rCting but choosingo oct. Even "being in character" ls seen aschoice not an inevitibiliiy. Thus the spectator, too, ls encouragedchoose how to receive each action. There is no fixed seating,actions go on simultaneously - spectators can shift focus fromaspect of the performance to another. By no means are ali theseconcerned with the drama: a spectator can focus on a perfbrmerging costume (that is, becoming another character), he technicalother spectators, etc. Instead of worklng for a unanimity of reaction,in orthodox theater, I strive for a diversity of opportunities.encourage spectators to react intellectually and ideoiogically as wellemotionally. What is "realiy happening" is a gathering of spectatorsdifferent ages, sexes,classes,and ideologies watching a group offormers teil a story by theatrical means. Within this contextformance Group expiored the most radical theatricai means we

rowARD A poETrcs oF pERFoRMANce 97handle: audience participation, envitonmental staging, muiti-focus,etc.These were combined with the traditional theatrical means of ourculture: narration and characterization.

WHAT ERFORMERSO:THE CSTASY/TRANCEHEELLooking at performing worldwide, two processes are identifiable. Aperformer is either "subtracted," achieving transparency,.elipinatingi'from the creative'p?6Eii$ the resistance and obstacies caused by one'sown organism" (Grotowski 1968a: 178); or s/he is "added to,"becoming more or other than s/he is when not performing. S,/he is"doublgd," to use Artaud's word. The first technlque, that of theshaman, s gc:tasy; tft"ieco"a, that of theEftnese dancer, is trance. Inthe'riest *Jil"u" terms for these two kinds J acting: th6-icior inecstasy is Ryszard Ciesl$-"in The Cons-tgn_t_*Prince,.roto.Wski's "holyactor"; the actor in trance possessed by another, is KonstantinStanislavsky sVershinin, the "character actor."

To be in tranCd"is not to be out of control or unconscious. TheBalinese say that if a trance dancer hurts himself the trance was notgenuine. n some kinds of trance the possessed nd the possessorareboth visible. Jane Belo describes a Balinese horse dance where

the playerwould startout riding he hobbyhorse, eing,so to speak,the horseman.But n his ranceactivity e would soon become denti-f iedwith he horse he would prance, al lopabout,stamp and kickasa horse or perhaps t would be fairer o say hat he would be thehorseand rider n o-ne. or hough he would sit on the hobbyhorse, islegshad o serve rom the beginning s he legsofthe beast.(Belo 96o: zr3)

This is the centaur; and it is an example of the performer's doubleidentity. When, in western theater, we speak of an actor "portraying arole," using a metaphor from painting where the artist studies a subjectand produces an image of that subject, we slide away from the maintactof theatrical performance: that the "portrayal" is a transformationot the performer's body,/mind - the "canvas" or "material" is thepertormer. Interviewing Balineseperformers of songhyongs,illage trance


17/23

'

. l98 rowlno A poErrcsoF pERFoRMANcEperformances,Goesti Made Soemeng GM), a BalinesememberBelo's esearcheam,probed he way rance ossessionappens:

GM: What syour eeling hen ouare irst moked)'3Dorja:Somehow r othersuddenly loseconsciousness.hesinging hear. f people al l out, cal l ingme "Tj i t tah "[a pig cal l ]that, hear t too. lf people alkof other hings, don't hear t.

GM: When you are a sanghyang ig, and people nsult you, dohear tlDarjo: hear t. f anyonensultsme am urious.6M: When ou inish laying,owdo you eel, iredor notlDarja:When t's ust over, don't eel iredyet.But he nextdayordayafter hat,my body s sick . .CM: When oubecome sanghyangnake, hat s he eelingike,where oyou eel ourbodyo be )Darma:When 'm a sanghyangnake, uddenly y houghts recious. hus,my eel ingseing el iciousuddenlyseelike orest, oods, ithmanymany rees.Whenmy bodys ikeas a snake,my feeling s of going hrough he woods, nd Ioleased..CM: And f you're sanghyanguppy, hatdoes ourbody eelWhere oyou eel ourselfo belDarja: justfeel ike puppy.feel appyto unalongthe round.

verypleased,ust ikea puppy unning n theground. s ongascan unon heground,'m happy.6M: And if you'rea sanghyang otato,wheredo you eelyourself o

and ikewhat lDarma'. feel am in the garden, ikea potato planted n the garden.CM: And if you're a s anghyang room, what's it l ike, and where

you eellDarma: Likesweeping ilth in the middleof the ground.Likef i l th n the street,n the vil lage. feel am being arried ff bybroom,edon o sweep.

Belo notes that "a considerable crowd had to be present to insurethe trancer did not get out of hand. " She tells of the time when a

(Belo95o:

TowARD A POETICS F PERFORMAT'rCE.|99

olaying a pig escaped rom the courtyard. He was not caught until theirexr morning. "He had by that time ravaged the gardens, trampled andeaten he plants,which was not good for the village' He had also,beingI pig, eaten large quantities of excreta he had found in the roadways,*-hi.h *m not good for him" (Belo 1960: 202).

Belo finds these accounts "surprisingly satisfactory," and I do too.They show that trance performing is a kind of character acting: beingoossessedby another = becoming another. Eliade says that shamans,ioo, "t" often possessedby animals.

During seancesamong the Yakut, he Yukagir, he Chukchee, heGoldi , he Eskimoand others,wi ld animal cr ies and bird cal ls areheard.Castagne escribeshe Kirgiz-Tartaraqca unningaround hetent, springing, oaring, eaping;he "barks ike a dog, sniffs at theaudience,ows ikean ox, bellows, ries,bleats ikea lamb,grunts ik ea pig,whinnies, oos, mitatingwith remarkable ccuracyhe criesofanimals,he songsofbirds, he soundoftheir f l ight and so on, al l ofwhich greatly mpresseshis audience." he "descentof the spirits"often akesplace n this fashion.

(Eliade 97o:97)'aAnd, as I noted in chapter 4, this kind of performing associatedwithtrickster figures and hunters arose very early in human history (see LaBarre 7972: 19 5-6) .

Balinese trance, shamanic possession, and the trickster are notexamples of acting from the Stanislavsky tradition. But nor are theyessentially different. Stanislavsky developed exercises - sensememory,emodonal recall, playing the throughJine of action, etc. - so that actorscould "get inside ofl' and act "as if' they were other people. Stanis-Iavsky's approach is humanist and psychological, but still a version ofthe ancient technique of performing by becoming or being possessedby another.

Beio (1960: 223) says hat the pleasure ofthe "trance experience sconnected with the surrendering of the self-impulse. . . . Being a pig, atoad, a snake, or a creepy spirit are ali enactments of the feeling oflowness in a very literal, chiidish and direct manner." She thinks thaturge to be low" is one of the foundations of trance.t' To be low is to


18/23

200 rowano A PoErtcs oF PERFoRMANcE

the body. Eliade:Theshamanic ostume ends o give he shamana new'magicalin animal orm. The hreechief ypesare hat of the bird' he re i(stag) and the bear but especial lyhe bird' " ' Feathers retioned more or lesseverywheren the descriptions f shamanictumes.More ignificantly,hevery tructure f he costumeseeks

take hephysicalperspective f a child' Tobe ilthy - playingwith ement andmud - is aregressiono infantilebehavior' t opensa ch;to farce - and farce is probably more ancient than tragedy'ru Finally'be iow is to escape rom rigid mores - being low is a way to be free'

But these phenomena ^ie ottly half of the dialectic of performilThe other half is ecstasy:a soaring away from the body' an emptying

imitateas faithful ly s possiblehe shape f a bird' " ' Si bEskimo ndNorthAmericanhamansly'Allover heworld hemagical power s credited o sorcerers nd medicine men' ' ' 'ade-quatenalysis f he symbolism f magical l ightwould eadusfar. We will simply observe hat two imPortant mythical motifs hcontributed o give t i ts Present tructure: he mythical mageofsoul n he ormof a birdand he dea f birds spsych.oPom'ps'(El iade97o:56,

Aborigine "Dreamtime" songs and dances are examples of this lrperforming. A person, often in sleep but s:me,times T*:i*,r^.rrpor,.d to the original "timeless rnythical p.ast,during w,or"*i. beings raveled rom piace o placeacrosshe desertpert

140802544 Richard Schechner Performance Theory Towoards a Poetics of Performance

Documents

Transcript of 140802544 Richard Schechner Performance Theory Towoards a Poetics of Performance