PE RFO RMANCE
Critical Concepts in Literary and Cultural Studies
Edited by Philip Auslander
Volume 11
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I (JNII( IN "hll l NI W YO HK
C ONT E NTS
VOL UM E 11
IX
Acknow/edgements
PART 1
I·irst [luhlished 20m
hy Rou l!edge
2l'ark Squarc, Millon I',¡rk, i\bingdon, Oxon , OXI4 4 RN
Simullaneollsly published in lhe USA ami Canada
hy Rout!edgc
270 Madison J\vc, New YOrk NY 10016
aOU//fc("e is UI1 imprill/ !I( /!Te ]'(jy/or & hUl1cis (iroujJ
Rcprcsentation
1
21 T lle theater of cruelty 3nd the closllrc of representatiol1
3
J AC'Q U ES DER RI DA
25
22 The tooth, tlle palm J EAN-I'R A Ny OIS L YO r ARD
Transfcrrcd lo Digitall I'rinling 200'! l dilorial m a lter an d scleclion 20m Phili[l J\lIsJander; individual
n wne rs re lain cO[lyrighl in lheir own malerial
23 Frame-op: feminism, psychoanalysis, thealre
32
BARBA R A F REJi D MAN
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mechaniea.1. m other means. no", known 01' hereafte['
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any int'onnal1on slmage 01' relrieval syslem, withoul permission in
wri !ing from the [lL~hlishcrs.
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A calal ogue record ro l' this hook is availahle I'rom lhe Brilish I.ihru[·y
24 The dynamics of desire: sexuality and gender iD pornography and performance
57
JII.I . D OL AN
I'ART 2
Tcxtuality
77
25 The¡¡"rica l performance: iIIustration, translation, fulfillment, Or supplement'l
79
U/mI/y o(Congre.\s Ca/%gillg inl'uh!ica/ioll 1)a/a
J\ catalog record ror !his hook has hcen reqlleslcd [SnN 0-4 15-25511 -2 (Scr)
IS BN 0-41 S-25 5 1VJ (Volullle U)
M,\RVI N ('A lU S! )N
Puhlíshcr', 1'1"11:
Rekrc ll ccs w ilhin ca ch ¡;ha ptcr are: as Ihey ,[[' peal' in Ihe
!)[,ginal ('!)[[¡pl d .; work.
26 Ornma, Iwrformutivit y. ,lIId Jll!rf
'i
1'1,. N',' r.~.n ' S
( , () N , ,: N I 'l
7 Prescnce and (be revengc of writing: rc-thinldng tltcatre after ()crrida
I'AI~
109
l' S
301
Cult ur"
El IN OR F UC IIS
119
28 Performance writing
5, 1 CulfuflIl ,I'flldi{'s
303
39 Drama in 11 dramatiscd society
RIC AI. I.SO'"
29 Making motions: the embodiment of law in geslure
RA YMON I> WII I.I A M S
124
40 Why modero plays are /lot culture: disciplinary bli/ld spots
8liRNt'lcRD J , fIlJl RITTS
313
S IJ ANNON J ACK SON
41
'>ART 3
Embodying difference: issues in dance and cultural studies
c.
Bodies
155
30 The actor's bodics
157
5.2 Inlerwltural,I'fudies
175
42 Twins separa ted at birtlt'! West African vernacular and Western avant garde performa tivity in tbeory and practice
D AVID GRAVER
31 The body as the object 01' modern performance J O N ER ICK SO N
JA Nh
I> BSMOND
359
'YNTIII A WARO
32 Strategic abilities: negotiating tite disabled bOOy in dance
188
ANN C OOPER AL BRIGI-I T
33 Feminine free fall: a fan tas)' of freedom
207
43 Western femi nist theory, Asian Indian performance, and a notion of agcnC)'
DAR y 1. e lll N
PART 4
Audiences/spectatorship
217
34 Dramaturgy of the spectator
219
MARC O D H MA Rl N IS
236
35 The pleasure of the spectator ANN E U BERS FELD
36 The audience: subjectivity, community a nd the eahies of listening
249
AI.I CE itA YN ER
37 O dd. anonymous needs: tite audience in a dramatized socicty
269
II ERIIEln JlI.¡\U n~c
of media culture
282
'" I/AIII'I II "'I ,AVI R
l '1
382
AV¡\ N T I-I I MEDURI
44 IntercuJturalism, postmodernism, pluralism
N iT A T A1T
.'\8 Sped.alorhll tlu.'ury in lit\!
334
11
395
A CK NOWLE DGE M ENTS
Thc Publishers wo ulcl like to thank the foll owing for penn ission lo reprint Ihcir material: Thc University 01' Chicago Press for permission to reprint Jacques Derrida, "Thc theater 01' cruelty and the c10sure of representation ", in WI"iting on ')¡ffel"ence, translated by A lan Bass. (Chicago: Uni versity of Cbicago Press , 1978), pp. 232 - 250. © 197R by The University of C hicago. Thc University of Wi sconsin Press for permission to reprint Jean-Franyois Lyotarc\, " The tooth, the palm", translated by A nne Knap and Michel BenamoLl, SubStance 15 (1976): 105 - 110. © 1976, SubStance l nc. The Johns Ho pkin s University Press for permission to reprint Barbara I:reedman , "Frame-up: fe minism , psychoanalysis, theatre", Thealre Jo ur!1al 40(3) (1988): 375- 397. © 1988 by The Johns Hopkins University Press. The Johns Hopkins University Press fOI" pcnnission to reprint Ji ll Dolan , "The dynamics of desire: sexuality amI gendcr in pornography and perform ;\I1ce", Tlmllre .Journal 39(2) (1987): 156- 174. © 1987 by The Johns Hopkins lJniversity Press. The Johns Hopkins U niversity Press for permission to rcprint Marvin C arlson , "The,Ltrical perfornlance: illustration, translation , fulfi llment, or supplement?", 'nlealre .foumal 37( 1) (1985): 5- 11. © 1985 by The Johns Hopkins University Press. The Modcrn Languagc Association for permission to reprint W . B. Worthen. "Drama, perlormativity, amI performance" . Puh/icaliolls oj"the Modern '"(/11 ~/I(/g(' A.I'.I'ol'ÍalionI13(5)(1998): 1093, 1107. © 1998 byThe Modern Language Associatioll.
Thc M; lss;¡ chu sclts InstiluIC 01" Tcch no logy Press ro r permi ssion lo rep rint Uino r F uch¡¡, " Prcscl1\:c an d lhl: rcvc ngc 0 1" writing: ret hin ki ng thea lre after Dcrriua" . "" (/ l)l'II lillg ,~rf \ .1/1/11//(/1 9(211 ) ( 1 9R~ ): 161 173. (O 1985 by New Yml- ll l1i vl:rs ily ill1\ llhl: M ,I s~ : II"IIII ~clh (nsl illll C ~) r réchll ol ogy . 1\
1\1" NI/WI Id)(' H .I I·NI "
An~
N , , W 1 1: 1) f¡ H~ 111 N I.'>
The Mus:sa c hu~dts lnstituh; o f T"cl:hn o logy Prcss for pen nissio n to rep rint R ie Al lsop. " Perl"ormance writing" , Per{orming Arl.l' JOllrna!21(1) (1999): 76- 80. Ü 198 7 by The J o hlls I Jopkins Universily P ress .
: amh rid gc 1I11ivnsily Pn.:ss :lItU tilt' cs t ~l tc uf Raymo nd Williams for per missi o n l l) rcp rint Ra ym onJ Willi ams. " D rama in a dramatiscd societ y" . (Cambridge : Camhridge University Press, 1975), pp. 1 21.
The ./ournal ol COl1lempo/"{fry L egal /sslles for permission to repl-int Bernard H ibbitts, "Mak ing m o tions: the embodiment of law in gesture" , Jour!7a! o( COl1lemporary Legal ¡ssues 6 (1995): 51 - 81.
Thc U ni ve rsity of T oronto Press for permission lo reprin t Shannon Jackson, "W hy 1ll0dern pla ys are not culture: djsciplinary blind spots", j\1odern Drama 44 (2001): 31- 51. © 2001 The l..Jn iversity o r T oronto.
T he National Communication Association (formerly the Speech Co mmun ication Association) ro r permission to reprint David Graver, "T he actor's bodies". Texl 0/1(1 Pe/j iml1ol/ ce Quarlaly 17(3) (1997): 221235 . © 1997 The Speech Co mmunication Association. The
Thc University ol' Minnesota Press for permission to reprint Jane C. Desmond , "Embod ying difference: issues in d ance and cultural studies". Culwral Critique 26 (1993 - 94): 33 - 63. 10 1994 by CuJtural C ri tiq ue. The National Communica tion Association (formerly the Speech Commun ication Associ ation) for permission to reprint C ynt hia Ward, "Twins sepa rated at birth? West A:friea n vernacuJar and Western avant garde performativi ty in theory and practice". Text and Perfórmance Qucmerly 14(4) (\ 994): 269- 288. iD 1994 the Speech Communication Association. The author for permission to reprint Ava nthi Meduri. "Western feminist theory , Asian Indian performance, ami a notio n of ageney" . Womel1 (/1/(1 Perfárnwnce 5(2) (1992): 90-- 103. The Massachusetts lustitute 01' Technology Press for permission to reprint Daryl Chi n, " Interculturalism . postmodernism, pluralism", Perfórming Arlo\' .!ournalll (3 )112(1) (1989): 163 - 175 . © 1989 Performing A rts Journal.
Disdaimer The publishers have made cvcry cffort to contact authors/copyright holders 01' works reprinted in Perfimnance: Crilical COl1cepls in L iteral)' and Cultural SllIdies. This has not becn possible in every case, however, and wc would welcome correspondem:e from those iudividuals/companies who \Ve have becn unable to trace.
Note I'hotographs induded in the original books / articles havc not been reprintcd herc.
Thc Massachust:tts Institute of Technology Press for permission to reprint Herbert Blau, "Odd, anonymous needs: the audience in a dramatized soci ety" (Part One), Perf{¡rming Arls ./0 u rI1 al 9(2/3 ) (1985): 199 - 212. © 1985 New York Univcrsi ty a nd the Massachusetts In stitutc 01' Technology. T hc altthor ami Ca mbrid ge lJnivc rsity Press fo r pcrmission to reprint Eliza b¡;lh Kltlver, "Specta tM ial thcory in the age oC med ia ulI llllre" , Ne ll' n/eal /'o f/(Ir/ I'r h ' 11 ( 111) ( 1(95) : ~ Oi) 11 1. [1) 19<)<; Cnrnbridge 1I ni versi ty Pr~ s. '.1
2]
T HE T H EATER O F CRU ELT Y
ANO THE C LOS URE OF
REPRESE N TAT IO N
Jacques Derrida SOllrec: Jaeqllcs Derrida. W/'iril/g {/lId /);[[e/'el/('e. Translalcd by ¡\lan Bass. Chicago: Uni vcrsity "r Chicago Prcss, 197X. pp. 2~2 250.
Unique fois au monde, paree qu 'en raison d'un événement toujours quej 'expliquerai, il n 'est pas de Présent, non - un présent n' existe pas. (Mallarmé, Quanl au lil're) ... as for my forces, Ihey are only a supplement, the supplement ol' an acutal state, it is that t here has never been an origino (Artaud , 6 June 1947) " .. . Dance I and consequently the theater I have not yet begun to exist. " This is what one reads in onc of Antonin Artauo's last writings (Le théatre oe la cruauté, in 84, 1948). A nd in the same text, a little earlier, the theater of cruelty is defi ned as " the affirmation I of a terrible I ano , moreover, implac ahle I1ccessity.'· Art aud, therefore , does not call fOl" destruction, for a new l11anifestation of negativity. Dcspite everything that it must ravage in its wake, " the thcater of cruel t)' I is not the symbol of an absent void." lt a/firms, it produces affirm ation itself in its full and necessary rigor. But also in its 1110St hiddcn sense. the sense most often buried , most often diverteo from itsdl": "implacable" as it is, this affirmation has "not yet begun to exist." It is :¡lill tn he horn oNow a necessary affirmation can he born only hy being r~: horn 10 ilsdl". For Á rtaud. the ruture of the theater- thus, the future in ~cnc ra l is opcncd on ly by 1IH.! a naphorH which da tes frolll the eve prio r to hirth. T hcat l'ka li ty Ill 1l.s1 lruv\:rl'lc unu n:storc " exislencc" and " f1esh" in each DI" I1 11: ir aspc..:ts. Th us, whntl'vcr 1."11 11 he suid nI' lh c nody ..:an be sa iJ 01" tht tl u.:ale r. Ás wc k ll IlW. Á. rl Ull d I¡ ved lIu: ntnrrnw 0 1" a Ji sposscl:1~ i lln : Iris propcr
1<1\'\tIlSIlN 11\ I HIN
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hoJy . Ihc pro (X'11 y a lld (llO p rÍl.: l y \ ) r h i ~ hot!y. liad h~'~ 1l .!clk" 1111 111 111111 ;11 hirth by Ihe IhiL:ving goJ wlH) \Vus bo rn in onk: r " l o pu ~s h ll l1!-.d l ofr / as me."1 Rcbi r th dOll b t le~s occlIrs lb ro llgh !\rta ud n:calls Ih is u lÜ: n a ki nd 01' reeduca lioll o f lhe o rgan s. But ihis rccdllcalio n pcrmits Ihe- acccss lo a lile befare birt h and a fte r dealb (" ... thn.1Ugh d ying / 1 have fina l1y achieveJ real irn morta lity," p. 110), a.nd nol lo a death befare birth a nd after Ilfe. T his is wh at disl ingll ishes th e a ffirrn ation 01' cruel ty frorn roman tic negativi ty: lhe d ifferenee is slight a nd yel Jeeis ive. Lichtenberger: " 1 cannot rid myself 01' th is idea lha l 1 was dead bcforc I was bom , and that through death 1 wi]1 retu rn to thi s very sta te .. .. To die and t o be reborn with the rnemory of one's former cxistence is cal1ed fainting; to awak en with other organs which 1l1 ust fir st be reed ucaled is called birth. " For !\rtaud, the primary concern is not to die in dying. n ot to Ict Ihe thi eving god divest him 01' his life. " And 1 beli eve thal thcre is always somco nc clse, al the extreme moment 01' death . to stri p us of o ur ow n li vd ' (A A. p. 162). Simila rly, Westem theater has been sepa rated from the force 01' its essence, removed from its affirmatil'e essence, its vis affirmatil'a. And this dispossession occ urred from the origin on, is the very movement 01' origin, ofbirth as death. T hi s is why a " place" is "Ieft on all the stages 01' stillborn theater" ("Le théatre et I'anato mie," in La rue, J uly (946). The thealer is born in its own d isappcarance, and t he offspring of this movem ent has a name: mano T he thealer of cruelty is lo be born by sepa rating death from birth and by eras ing the name 01' man oThe th ealer has always been made to do that for which it was not madc: "The last word on man has not been said . ... The theater was neve r mad c lo dcsc ribe man and what he does.... El le théálre esl ce
qlll.:s IIUII ul" 111\': t hclI le ! ,11 Cl uc.:ll y "r ils pn!:;c llt in ~x i ~ l (!nl:C a mI ils impl ac ahk Il\.:ccssi ly, has th e val llc \J I" ;¡ Iris/orie q ucstion . ¡\ hi storic queslioll nol hcca usc il cou ld he inscri bcu with in w hat is called Ihe history of theater, not hccau sc il wou lJ bc cpoch-mak ing wilhin the becomjng 01' theatrical form s, or bccause il wo uld occupy a position wilhi n the succession 01' models of I hcu trica l reprcsentation. This q uestion is historic in an a bso lute and ra dical sCl1 se. It all nounccs lhe limit of representation. T he lhealer of cruelty is not a representation. It is life itself, in the extent to which lite in unrepresentable. Lite is the 110nrepresentable origin of represen lation, " 1 have therefore said 'cruelty' as I might have said 'life'" (1 '0 , p. (14). This lite carries man along with it, but is not primarily the life 01' mano T he lalter is only a representation oflife, and such is the limit-tbc humani.:jt limit -01' the metaphysics 01' classical theater. "The theater as we practice it ca n therefore be reproached with a terrible 1ack ofimagination. The theater mLlst make itsclf the equal of Ji fe- not an individuallife. that ind iv idual aspect of lile in which CII¡\ \{MT ERS triumph, but lhe sort of liberated lite which sweeps away human individuality and in which man is only a reflection" ( TD, p. (16). Is not the most na"ive form 01' representation mimesis? Like Nietzsche-a nd the affinities do nol end Ihere-Artaud wants to have done wi th the imilatil'e concept 01" art, wilh the Arislotclean aesthetics 2 in which the metaphysics of Western art comes into its own. " A rt is not lhe imitalion of1ife, but lite is the imitation 01' a transcendental prin cipie which art puts us into communication wilh once again" (OC 4: 3(0). Theatrical art should be Ihe primord ial and privi1eged site of this destruc lion 01' imitation: more than any other arl, it has been markcd by Ihe labor of total representation in which the affirmation of life lets itself be doubled and emptied by negation. This representation, whose structure is imprinted not only on the arl, but on Ihe enlire culture 01' the West (its religions, phi lo sophies, politics), Iherefore designa tes more than just a particular ty pc 01' theatrical construclion. This is why the question put to us today by far cxceeds the bounds oftheatrical technology. Such is Artaud's most obstinale affirmation: technical or theatrological reflection is not to be treated margin ally. The decline of the theater doubtless begins with the possibility 01' such a dissociation. This can be emphasized without weakening the importance or interest 01' theatrological problems, or 01' the revolutions whieh may occur wilhin the limits of theatrological problems, or of the revolulÍons which may occur wi th in lhe limits oftheatrical technique. But Artaud's intention indicates lhcse limils. F or as long as these technical and intratheatrical revolutions do !lol pcnetrate the very fo undations ofWeslern theater, they will belong to the hislory
patín (¡('!(ingclI1dé, qui musú¡ue de tremes par harbes métalliques de barhelés !lOUS ll/uil1ticnt ('n aal de guerre conlre /'homme qui nous corsetait . ... Man is quite iJl in Acschy lus, but still t hinks of himself somewhat as a god and does not wa nt lO cntc r the membrane, and in E uripides, finally, he splashes about in Ihe mcmbra ne , forgetting where and when he was a god" (¡bid.). lndced , lhe e ve ofthe origin ofthis dec1ining, decadent, a nd negative West crn theale r l1lust be reawakened and reconstituted in order to revive the implac abk lH.!ces!:ii1.y of affirmation on its Eastern horizon. This is the implacable nccessi ly 01' an as yet inexi stent stage, certainly, but the affirma tion is not to be elabora ted lomOrrO\\!, in so me "oew theatcr." Its implacable necessily operates as a pennanent force. Crue1ty is always at work. The void , the place that is empty and waiting for this theater which has not yet "begun to exist," thus measures only the strange distance which separa tes us from implacable neces sity , fro m the presenl (or rather the contemporary, active) work 01' affirmali on. Within the space 01' lhe unique opening 01' this distance, the stage of cruelly rears its enigma for us. A nd it is into this opening that we wish to c nter heTeo If throughout the world today-a na 50 many cxamples bcar wilnes5 lo lhis in the m ost strik ing fashio n-a l1 lhea tricaJ audacity declares ilS fi de1ity lO A rtaud (correc tl y or incorrectly_ but Wilh incrcasin g ' insistency), t hcn lhc
4
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queslinn of justitil:a lioll amllegal ity I1 111St also be raised. With what criteria ca n such a c1a itn be recognizcd as unfoLllldcd? lJndcr what conditions could an authenti e " thea ter 01' crue1ty" "begin to exist "'! T hese simultaneoLlsly lech nical and "metapbysieal" questions (metaphysical in t he sense understood by Artaud). arise spontaneously from the reading of all the texts in The Theater and lIs Douhle, for these texts are more solicitaliol1.1' than a sum of precepts, more a system of critiques shaking Ihe enlirety 01' Occidental history than a trea tise on thca tri cal practice. The theater ol' eruelty exp ulses G od from the stage. rt does not put a new a lheist discourse 0 11 stage, or give atheism a platform, or give over theatrical space to a philosophizi ng logic that would once more, to our greater lassi lude. proclaim the death of God. The theatrical practice 01' cruelty, in its aclio n amI structure, in habits 01' rather produces a nontheological space. T he stage is lhcological for as long as it is dominated by speech, by a will 1.0 speech, by lhe layout 01' a primary logos which does not belong to the lhcatrical sile and governs it from a distanee. The stage is theologieal for as long as ils structun:, lollowing the cntirety 01' tradition, eomports the follow ing clcments:
- tbis structurc has never been modifled. All rcvolllt ions have rn ain tained it in Lact, and rnosl o ften have tended to protect \lI' rcstOfe il. !\nd il is 1he phollctk lexl. spcech: lransrnillcd d iscour5e cvcn lua ll y 11'
l' 111 IlI di~ rC lIsa hlc
I 111 " 1'1 i I~ ti F l' 1(\ I 1: I
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ccnlcr \)1' reprcscllI;1 11 Vl' Sll llcl l1rc whid l l!llSU I\.!s the rnovemenl W halevc r the ir ill1 po rtance, all lhe pictorial, mu sical and ,'ven gC::; licul ar t'orlllS introduced into Wcstern lheater ca n only, in t he besl of C
01'
n:prc~l.' lllali ll n .
Itlll"lli\;¡ ,N [,A 'I I ON
of E le usis" ~ t rip pcú 01' the ill ll'lllI l l¡Uio ns Wl lh wh ich Ihey have bec lI covcreu , r the " pure bea uly of wh i¡;]1 PIUlo, at least o nce in this wo rlJ, mllst havc fo und lhe w mpletc. SOnOn)IIS , ~lreall1ing naked realiza lion " (TD, p, 52). Artalld is indeed spea king 01' pc rversion and not of forgetting, for exa mple, in lhis letter lo Benjamin C rémiellx: T he lheatcr. an ind epende nt and autonomous art, must, in order to re vive or simply lO li ve, reali ze wha t differentiates it from texl, p ure speech , litcratllre, and all other fi xed a nd written mean s. W e can pcr fectly well co n tin ue to co nceive o fa theater based upon the au thority of the te xt, and on a lext more and more wo rdy, d iffuse, and bo ring, to which lhe esthelics 01" the sta ge wo uld be subject. But trus concep tion of theater, which con sists ofhaving people sit on a certain nllmber of straight-backed o r overstllffed chairs placed in a row and tell cach other stories, however marvelous, is , if not the absolute negation of theale r-w hich does nol absolutely req uire movemcn t in order to be what it should- certainl y its p erversion . [TD, p. 106; my ¡lalic.\] Released from the text and the author-god , mise en scene would bc returned to its creati ve and founding freedorn . The dircctor and the participants (who would no longer be actors or speClators) would cease to be the instruments an.d organs of representation. ls this to say that Artaud \Vould have refllscd the name represenlatiol1 for the theater of crue\ty? No , providcd that we c1arify the difficu lt and equivocal rncaning of this notion . Here, we would have to be able to play upon all the German \Vords that \Ve indistinctly trans la te with the unique word represcntation. The stage, certainly , will no longer represenl , since it \ViII not opera te as an addition , as the sensory illustration of a text already written , thought, or Iived olltside the stagc, which the stage wo uld then only repea l but whose fabric it would not constitute. The stage will no longer opera te as the repetition 01" a present , will no longer re-presenl a presen l l hat would exist elsewhere an d prior to it, a present that would exist elsewhere and prior Lo it, a present whosc plenitude would be older than it, absen t fr o m it, a nd rightfully capable of doing wilhout it: the bein g-prescnt to-itself ofrhe absolute Logos, the living present ofGod. Nor will the stagc be a representation , if rcpresentation ll1eans the surface of a spectac1e displayed for spectalors. I t wil1 not even o frer the presentation ol' a present, if present signifies that which is maintained in .!roll( of me. Cruel representation must permeate me. A nd nonrepresenta tio n is, thus, original representation , if rep resenta tion signifles, also , the un foldi ng 01' a volume, a multidimensional milie u, an exp cricncc which produces its own space. Spllcing [es-pucemenl] , Ihal is lO say, l he prod uction of a space tha t no speech could condense 01' c\llllprchcnJ (sincc spccch pri m ari ly p resuppose~ lh is spacing ), Lhcreby a p pt:a ls 1~1 a lime Ihal is no IIm!,c r lh at of sll-calleJ phunic Ii ncarity. IIPJ1l'als lo
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'a Ih:W 11t)1 ion nf spw.;i.~" lI lld " ;1 srwu1ic idea u f lilllc " ('I D. p. 114). " W e intc nd lo hase Ihe Ihcal cr IIpOIl speclacle bcl 'ore everylh ing cisc, a ncJ we shall intro duce illlu lhe spcctaclc a new no líon 01' space ut ilized on al1 possible levels alld ill all Jcgrecs 01" perspeclivc ín deplh and heigh t. and within this notion a spccific iJea 01" time will be addcd lo thal of movement. . . . Thus, thealer spacc will be ulilizcd llot only in its dirnensions and \'olume but, so to speak, in ils uIH.Jer:¡ides (dalls .I'e.l' dessous)" (TD , p. 124). Thus, the dosure of classical representation , but also the recon stitutio n of a doscd space of original represcntation , the archi-man ifesta ti o n of force 0 1' 01' lifc. A c10sed space, tha t is to saya space produced from within itself and 110 longcr organized from the vantage of a n o tb e r absent site , an illocality, an alibi or invisible uto pia . T he end of representation , but also original repres cnlation; the end 01' interpretation , but also a n origin al interpretation lhat no master-speech , no projcct of mastery will have permeated and \eveled in advance. A visible representation , certainly , directed against the speech which l~ludes sight- a nd Artaud insists upon the productive images without whjch llJere wOllld be no theater (lhe{/ol11ai) ·- but whose visibility docs not consist 01' a spectacle Illounted by thc discourse of lhe m as ter. Represental io n, lhen , as the autoprcsentation of pure visibility and even p ure sensibility.3 It is this extreme and difficult sensc of spectacular representation that another passage from lhe same letter attempts to delimit: " So long as the /1/ise ('/1 .I'cCne remains, even in the minds of the boldest directors, a simple mean s 01' presentation , an accessory mode of expressing the work, a sort of spectacular intermediary with no significance 01' its own , it will be valuable only to the dcgree it succeeds in hiding itself behind the works it is pretending lO serve , And thi s will continue as long as the major interest in a performed work is in ils text, as long a s literature takes preceden ce over the kind o f performance improperly called s pectade, with everything pejorative, accessory, ephemeral and external that that term ca n·ies with it" UD , pp. 105 - 6). Such , on the slage of cruelty , would be " spectade acting not as rellection , but as foroe " (OC 4: 297). The return to original represcntation thus imp1ies , not simpl y but abo ye a ll, that theater or life must cease to "represenl" an other lan guage, ll1ust cease to \et themselves be derived from an other art, from literature, for cxample, be it poctic literature. ror in poetry, as in literature, verbal repres cntation pur1 0 ins scenic represcntation. Poetry can escapc Western " illness" only by becoming !heater. C' We think , preci sely , thal there is a notion of poetry to be t1 issociated , extracted from the forms of wriUen poetry in which an cpoch at the height of disorder and illness wants to keep all poetry. And when I say thal lhe epoch wants, 1 <1m exaggerating, for in reality il is incapable 01" wanling anything; it is th e victim of a formal habit which it ahsolu te ly ca nnOI shakc. 11 seems lo us that thc kind of di/Tuse poetry which \Ve idcTl lify wil h na lllra l and spnnlancous enc rgy (but all n a tu ra l energies are 11 01 pllclic) IlIUS! liml lIs illleg r;¡) cxprcssi llll , ils p ll resl, sharpes! and mos! !ruly scpa raled cx pressilltl . ill llll: t\Jcil lcr" ( OC, 4: 280). ')
R 1 l' IU S I! N 1 A 1 111 N
What will speech become, henceforth, in the theater of cruelty? Will it simply have to silenee itself or Jisappear? In no \Vay. Speech will cease to gove rn the stage, but will be present upon it. Speech will oecupy a rigorously delimited place, \ViII have a function within a system to which it will be eoorJinated. For it is known that the representa tions of the theater of cruelty had to be painstakingly determined in advance. The absence o f an author and his text does not abandon the stage to derelic tion. The stage is not forsaken , given over to improvisatory anarchy, to "chance vaticination" (OCA: 234), to "Copeau ' s improvisations" ( TD , p. \09), to "Surrealist empiricism " (OC 4: 313), to commedia de{l'arl e, or to " the eaprici ousness of untraincd inspiration " (ibid.). Everything, thus, \ViII be prescrihed in a writing and a text whose fabrie will no longer resemb\e the model ol' c1assical representation. To what place. then , \ViII speech be assigneJ by this necessary p rescription called ror by cruelty itself'l Speech and its nota tio n - phone tic speech. an elernent of c1assical theater speech a m I ils wri ti ng wil l be erasetl on tbe stagc 01' crllelty o nly in the extent lo wh ich th ey wen.: ullegedly lIi(' /(/liol1: al once ci tution:'i ()¡' rccil¡¡lions and onkl's. TIJe d ir n ;ror ami Ihe actM will no lu nge!' w kc dielalitlll . .. (,hus we \11
11
In my vie,v no o ne has the right to call himself author, that is to say creator, except the person who controls the direct hanJling of the stage . And exactly here is the vulnera b le point of the theatcr as it is thought ofnot only in France but in E urope and even in theOccident as a whole: OcciJental theater recognizes as lang uage. assigns the faculties and powers ol' a lan guage. permits to be calleJ language (with that part icular intellectual dignity generally ascribed to this word) only articulated language. grammatically articulateJ lang uage, i.e .. the language of speech , and of written speech, speech which , pro nounced or unpronounceJ , has no greater value than if it is merely written. In the theater as we conceive it, the text is everything. [TD , p. 117]
1
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shall rC I10UnlT the lhcatrk .t) SlI pc rslition nI' lhe text ,tnd the diclalors hip 01' 1he writer" (TI), p. 124) T his is als u the end 01' the diclion wh ich made theater illtn an cxcn.:ise 01' reading. The entl 01' the I'act that fo r "certai n thealrical amatcurs t\Jis means thal él play read alfords just as defi nÜe and as great a satisl'aclion as the same play performed" (TD, p. 118). \-Iow will speech a nd writing fllllcti o n then '! They will once more become g('.\'lure.l'; and the (ogim{ and discursi ve intentions whkh speech ord inarily uses in order to ensure its rational tra nsparency, a mi in order to pu rlo in its body in the direction of meaning, will be reduced or subord inated . A nd since this thert of the body by itself is indeed that which lea ves th e body to be strangely concealed by the very thing that constitutes it as Jiaphanous ness. then lhe deconstitution 01' diaphanousness lays bare the f1esh of the \VorJ. lays bare the word's sonority, intonation , intensity - the shout that the artieulations of lan guage and logic have not yel entirely fro zen, that is. the aspect of oppressed gesture which remains in all speech , the unique and irreplaecable movement which the generalities of concept and repetition haYe lIeyer finished rejecting. We know what value A rtaud attributed to what is called in the present case. quite incorrectl y- o nomatopoeia. Glossopoeia , which is neither an imitative la nguage nor a creation ol' names, takes us back to the borderline of the moment when the word has not yet becn born , when articulation is no longer a shout but not yet discourse. when repetition is /I{mosl impossible, and along with it, language in general: the separation 01' concept and sound, 01' signified and signifier, of the pneumatical and the grammatical , the freedom of transJation and tradition , the m ovement of interpretation , the di fre rence between t he soul and the body, the master and Ihe slave, God and man , author anJ actor. This is the eve of the origin of languages, ami of the dialogue between theology and humanism whose inex tinguishable reoccurrence has never not been maintained by the metaphysics 5 01' Western theater. Thus , it is less a question of constructing a mute stage than of constructing a stagc whose clamor has not yet been pacified into words . The word is the l'adaver of psychic speech, and along with the language oflife itself the "speech hd'ore words"(' must he found again. Gesture and specch haye not yet becn separated by the logic of representation . " 1 am adding another language to thc spoken language, and I am trying to restore to the lan g uage ofspeech its \lId Illagic , its essential spellbinding power, for its mysterioLls possibilities Irave been forgotten. When I say I will perform no written play, I mean that I will pcrl'orm no play based on writing and speech, that in the spectac\es I produce rhere \-vill be a preponJerant physical share which could not be l';rptured and written dowll in the cllstomary language 01' words, ami that l'vcn Ihe spnJ..c n ami writtc ll portions will he spoken and written in a ncw ~C Il SC" p. I I I ). Wh at \)1' thb; " l1ew se nsc",! Ant,l ti r'i l , Wh"ll or Ihis new lhea trical writ ing? 11m. bt le!' will 110 lou gc! m:c ll py tlrc Iilllilcd posi tio ll 01' simply bcin g the
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nolali o ll 01' worcls, huI wi llcover lh\! \!nlin.! ra ng<.: 01' Ihl s lIéW lallguuge: not only phonclic wri ting amI the transl:ription nI' spccch. out also Itieroglyphic writing, lhe writing in which phonetic elements are coordi nated to visual, pictoria l, ami plas lic elemeots. T he notion 01' hicroglyphics is at the cen te r of the F¡rs/ Munifesto : "Once aware of Ihis language in space, language of sounds, cries, lights, onoma topoeia , the theater must organize it ioto veritable hicroglyphs, with the belp 01' characters and objects, and make use of their symbolism and interconneetions in rela lion to all organs and on all levels" ( ro, p. 90). O n the stage of the dream, as described hy F reud, speech has the same sta tus. This analogy requires palient medilation . In The Interpreta/ion (~' Dr('ams and io tbe Metap.\ychological S upplemenl lo /h e Theory (d Dreams the pla ce and funCli o ning ofwriting a re d elimited. Present in dream s, speech ean only beha ve as an element among others, sometimes li ke a " thing" which the primary p rocess manipulales according to its own econom y. " In this process thoughts a re transformed into images, mainly of a visual sort; that is to say, word presentations are taken back lo the thing-presentations which corres pond to them, as if, in general Ihe process were dominated by considerations 01' represel1/ahilily (Darstellbarkeit). " " It is very noteworthy how liule the dream-work keeps to word-presentations; it is always ready lo exehange one word for another ti11 it finds the expression which is most handy for plaslic representation " (SE 14: 228). Artaud loo, speaks of a " visual and plastic materialization ofspeeeh " ( TD, p . 69) and ofmaking use ofspeeeh " in a con crete and spatial sense" in order to " manipulate it Iike a solid object, one which overturns and disturbs things " (TD, p. 72). And when Frcud , speaking 01' drcams, invokes sculpture and painting, or the primitive painter who, in the fashion of the Cluthors of comic strips, hung "small labels .. . from the mo uths of the persons reprcsented, eontaining in written charaetcrs the speeehes which the artist despaired of represenling pictoria11y" (SE 4: 312), we understand what speeeh can become when it is but an element, a circum scribed site, a circumvented writing within both general \Vriling and the space of representation. This is the struclllre of the rebus or lhe hieroglyphie. " The dream-wnlen t, o n the other hand , is expressed as il \Vere in a pictographie script" (SE 4 : 227). And in an artic1e fmm 1913: " For in what follows ' speech' must be lInderstood not merely to mean Ihe expression of thought in words but to inelude the speech ofgeslure and every other melhod , such, for instance , as writing , by which mental activity can be expressed .... Ifwe reflect that the means of representation in dreams are principa11y visual images and not \Vords, \Ve shall see that it is even more appropriate lO compare drcams \-vith a system 01' writing than with a language . In fact the inlerpretation 01' dream s is compl ete1y analogou!> to the deciphennen t of an aneient pictographic seript slIeh as Egyptian hieroglyphs " (SE 13: 176-77). 7 11 is difficlÚI to kllOW Ihe ex lenl lo which Arl.Hld. wh\) l1ncn rclcrrcd to psydlOana l y~ i~, hall a pproac hcd the Ic:{t 0 1" Fn:ud . II is in nll y ('vC IlI IClIlarkahle
As concerns psyehoanalysis and espeeia11y psychoanalysts, Artaud was no less careful to indicale his distance from those who believe that they can retain diseourse with the aid of psychoanalysis , and therehy can wield its initiative alld powers 01' initi a tion . For the theater of eruelty is indeed a thcater of dreams, but of cruel dreams, Ihal is to say, absolutely necessary and determined dreams , dreams calculated ilnd givcn direction, as opposed to wha t Artaud believed to be the empiri cal disorder of spontaneous dreams. The ways and figures of dreams can be lI1astered. The surrealists read Hervey de Saint-Denys. ~ In this theatrical Ircatment of dreams , " poetry and seienee must hem;eforth be identical" (TD , p. 140). To make them such , it is certainly necessary lo proeeed according lo lhe modern magic that is psychoanalysis. " 1 propose to bring back into Ihe theatcr this elementary magic idea , taken up by modern psychoanalysis" (rO , p. 80) . But no concession must be made to what Artaud believes to be Iltl: raltering 01' dreams and of the uneonscious . It is the law 01' dreams that II1l1s1 be produced or reproduced: " 1 pro pase lO renounce our empiricism of illlagery , in whieh the unconsl:ious furn ishes images al random, and which lite roet arranges at random too" (ibid.). Because hc \Vants " to see sparkle and triumph on stage" " whatcver is part Ilr the i11egibilily and magnetic raseination of dreams " (CW 2: 23), Artaud Iltnef'orc rejects thc psychoanalyst as interpreter, second-remove eommen lallll, Itermcnelll , or theoretician. He would have rejected a psychoanalytil: Iltcalcr wi lh as Illllclt rigor as he condemned psychological thealer. And for 11n' sa mc rca';¡)J)s: hi'i réjeclioll ()r a ny secret interi o ri ty, o f the reader, of di lcl,; liw in h; rprdali(ll1'i 01 \ Ir psyd l\IUram alurgy . "Tire su!7cOI1SCiOllS will nol pl ,t)' ,llIy Ir lll' ruk M I sta):,'. W e vc )¡;\l1 cl1 0ugh 0 1' Ihe L'onfusion engendered
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Iltal he d c:.cri hc'i 11 1\: pla y ¡II SPWdl :lIId u l wriling on the stagc 0 1" eruelt acconling lo l' rClld's very Icnns, a hCllu wlto al lhe limc was hardly elueid all'd , A ln::ady in Ihe Firs/ M wti(,'s/o:
It is not a q uestion of suppressing the spoken langllage, but of giving words approximately the import anee they have in dreams. Meanwhile new means of recording Ihis languagc must he round, whetber these means bclong to musical transcription or lo sorne kind al' cod eo A s fo r ordinary objects, o r even the human body , raised lo Ihe dignity 01' si gns, it is eviden t that one can draw one 's inspiration from hieroglyphie characters [TD , p. 94)... . Eternal law!), those 01' aJl poetry and a H viable language, and , amon g other things, of Chinese ideograms and aneienl Egyp lian hieroglyphs. Hence, far from restrictin g the possibililies of theater and language, on the pretext that I wi11 no! perform written plays, I extend the lan guage 01' the slage and multiply its possibilities. [TD , p. 111) 1111 , IAN(;t I:\( ¡I : OJ '1111': ST ¡\ GI::
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between author and a uó ierH:e lhro ugh the mcd iulll (,r p rOlJuccrs Ull d Jctors, Too bad for analysts, stutlents of the sou l a nd su rrC!al isls ... . Wc are dc lcr mined to safeguard the plays we put on against any sécret commenta ry" (CW 2: 39)Y By vi rtue of his situarion a nd his status, the psychoanal yst wo uld belong to the strucl ure of the dassica l stage, to its societal fo rm , its meta physics, its religion , ctc. The theater 01' cruelty thus would not be a theater of the unconscious. Almost the contrary. C ruelty is consciousness, is exposed lucidity. "T here is no cruelty wi thout consciousness and without the applica llon 01' conscious ness" ( TD, p . 1(2). And this consciousness indecd lives upon a m u rder, is the collsciousness 01' lh is mu rder, as we suggestod above. Artaud says this in "The f<" irst Lelter on Cruelty": "It is consciousness lhat gives to the exercise ul" cvery act 01' life its blood-retl color, its cruel nuan ee, sim:e il is understood th a l lile is a lways someone's dea lh" (TD , p. 102). Pcrha ps A rlaud is also protesli ng against a certain f<"reudian description of drC¡lIlls as the su bstitutive fulfillment of desire, as the funetion of vicarious ncss: lhrough the Ihea le r, Arta ud wa nts to return their dignity to dreams and to ma kc 01' thcm some lh ing more original. more free, more c!/Iirma/il'c than an activity 01' d isplaeement. Tt is perhaps against a certain image of F reudian thought thal he wriles in the Firs/ M aní/es/o: "To eonsider the theater as a second-ha nd psyehologieal or moral fu netion , and to believe that dreams them se1ves have only a substitute function, is to diminish the profound poetic bearing of dreams as well as of the theater" (T D , p. 92). F in all y, a psyehoanalytic theater would risk bei ng a desacralizing theater, and thereby would confirm the West in its projeet and its trajectory. The thealer of cruelty is a hieratie theater. Regression towa rd the uneonscious (cf. TD , p. 47) fails ifit does not reawaken the sacred, ifit is not both the "mystie" experience of " revclation" and the manifcstation of life in their first emer genec. IO We have seen the reasons why hieroglyphics had to be substituted for purcly phonie signs. Jt must be added tha t the latter commul1leate less than the former with the imagination of the sacred . " And through th e hierogl yph of a breath I am able to recover an idea of lhe sacred theater" (TD, p. 141). A new e piphany of the supernatural and the divine must occur within eruelty. And nol despite but th a nk s to the eviclion of God and the destruction of the theater's theologieal machinery . The di vine ha s been ruined by God. That is to say, by man , \Vho in permitting himselfto be separated from Life by God , in permitting himself to be usurped from his own birth , became man by polluting the divinity orthe divine. "Fo r far from believing that man invented the supcrn a tural and the divine, 1 think it is man' s age-old intervention which has ultimatel y eorrupted the di vin e within bim " (1'D, p. 8). The restora tion of d ivinc cruelty. hence, musl travcrse the murder of God , that is to sayoprim a ri!y Ihe m urder 01' lh e man-G ()d . ll PCrh
hilll . W hal lIl igh t tbe Ih l:.IIICS o llll lidl!l it y be. evcn ul110ng lh ose who invoke A l taud in Ihe mil itanl <.Ind noi sy 1¡lsh ion \Ve all know'! We will con tent lIursl!l ves wilh naming these themes. W ithoul a doubt. foreign to the thea ter 111" cruclly are: l . AIl non-sacred lhea ter. 2. AIl theatcr that p rivileges speech or rather the verbo all theatcr ol"words, l'ven ifthis privilege becomes that ofa speeeh which is self-destructive. whieh once more beeomes gesture of hopeless reocc urrence, a negalil'e relation of speech to itsclf. theatrieal nihilism , what is still called the thea ter of the absurd o Such a thea ter \Vould not o nl y be consumed by speeeh, and wo uld not dcstroy lhe functioning of t he classical stage, but it also wou ld not be, in Ihe sense understood by Arta ud (and doubtless by Nietzsche), an a/firma/ion. 3. AIl abstrae/ theater which exc1udes something from the totality of art, and thus, from the totality of lifc and its resources of signitleation : dance. lIIusie, vol ume, depth ofplastieity, visible images, sonority, phonicity, etc. A n ahstraet theater is a theater in whieh the totality 01' sense and the sen ses is not consumcd . One would incorreetly conclude from th is th at it suffices to accu lI1ulatc or to juxtapose all lhe arts in order to crea te a tOlal thealer addn::ssecl lo the " total m an " 12 (ef. TD, p. 123). Nothing could be furthcr from address illg total man tha n an assembled tot ality. an a rtificial and exterior mimicry. Inversely , certain apparent cxhaustions of stage technique sometimes more rigorously pursue Artaud 's trajectory. Assuming, which we do not. that there is some scnse in speaking of a fidel.ity to A rtaud , to something like his "mess agc" (this notion already betrays him) , then a rigorous , painsla king, patie nt and implacable sobriet y in the work of des truction , and an economical acuity aillling at the master parts of a still quite solid machine, are more surely im pcrative, today, than the general mobilization of art and arlists, than turbulence or improvi sed agitation under the mocking and tranquil eyes of thc poliee. -1. AII thealer of alienation. Alienation only consecrates, \Vith didactic illsistence and systemalic heaviness, the nonpa rticipation 01' spectators (and l'wn nr direetors ami aetors) in the ereative aet, in the irruptive force fissuring t he spacc 01' thc stage. The Velji·cmdUll!;Scfldd ' remains the prisoner o f a dassical paradox and 01' " the E uropean ideal of art" which " attempts to cast thl~ mind into an attitude distinct from force but addicted to exaltation" (TD, p. 111). Sincc " in the 'thea ter 01' cruelty ' the spectator is in the eenter and th e spcetacle surrounds h im" (TD, p. 81), the di sta nce ofvision is no lon ger pure, ,·anllot be abstracted from the totality of lhe sensory milieu; the infused s(lC\': lator can no longcr (,o/lSlilul e his spectacle and provide himself with its \IhjL!cl. Thc rc is no longcr speetator or speetaclc, but/estival (eL TD. p. 8S) . All lhe lill1ils I"urrowi ng classical theatrieality (re presented/representer, signi Ilcd/sil!l1 ilin, a !JI hm/tl ircc lor/acl (J rslspcct<1to rs, stage/a udience, textlinte r p rc l :llio ll, ele.) WC I e Cl hictlo ll wtaphysieal prohibi lions , wrinkles, grimaces , Ill·t lJSe~ I he symploll1s n I" Ii;'ar bcforc lhe dangc rs 01" lhe le st ival. Within the 'Ipal"\.· 01' tlll' fcs tival ,'pel\cd hy ,ralls!,H:ssio ll , the d i ~I' lncc 01" rc prescllt a tio n
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1:,
sho llld no lun g~ r he cX lcntl ahk. r he fes lival (ll" crucll y tlll s ,111 1\lt)lli gh, ~ anu pro tceti ve barriers befo rc the "él bsolul~ d angcr" wh idl is " Wilholll li HHltla tion ": " ) m ust have actors wllo are first 01' a ll be ings, thal is to say, wllo on stage are not afraid of the tTlIe sensatio n of the tOllch 01' él koife and the convulsions ahsolutely real for them- of a slIpposed birth. Mounet-Sully believe::; in wha t he does and gives th e iJlusion 01' it, bul he knows that he is behin d a protective barner, rne- I s uppress t he protective barrier" (Ietter to Roger Blin , Spetembcr 1945). As regards the festival, as invoked by A rta ud , and the menaee of that wh ich is "witho ut fou ndat ion ," the "bappcning" can only make us smile: it is to the thcater o f eruelty what the earnival 01' Nice might be to the mysteries 01' Eleusis. Th is is partieularl y so due to the faet that the happening substitutes politieal agita ti on for the total revolution pre seribed by Arta ud. The festival must be a political acl. And the ae/ of politieal revolution is thealrú:·al. 5. AJI nonpolitical theater. We have indeed said that the festival must be a political (lel and not tbe more or less c10q uent, pedagogieal. and superin tended transmission of a concept or a politico-moral vision of the world. To refleet- whieh we cannot do here- t he political sense of this aet and this festival , and the image of soeiety whieh raseinates Artaud's desire, one should come to invo ke (in order to note the greatest differenee within the greatest affini ty) all the e1ements in Ro usseau whieh establish communication between the criti que of the c1assical speetacle, the ~uspeet q ua li ty 01' ar! iculaliol1 in language, the ideal 01' a publie festival ~ubstitllted for representation , and a cerlain model o/" society perfeetly present to itsel f in small eommunities which rend er both uselc~s and ne farious all reeo urse to represel1la fiol1 at the deei sive Illomcnts o/" sociallire. That is, all reeourse to political as well as to theatrieal rcpresenta tion , replacement. or delegation . lt very precisely could be shown tha t it is the "represen ter" that Rousseau suspects in The Social Contracl , as well as in the Letter lo M . d'A lernhert, where he pro poses the replacement o f theatrieal representations with Pllblic festivals laeking all exhibition and spectaclc, festivals without "anything to ~ee" in whieh the spectators them seJ\'es woul d beeome aetors: " But what then will be the objects of these enterta inments? ... Nothing, if you please .. . . Plant a stake erowned with flowers in the middle 01' a square; gather the people together there, and you will have a festival. Do better yet; let the spectators become an entertainment to themselves: make them actors themsc\ves." 14 6. AII ideological theater, all cultural theater. all eommunieative, inl erpre tire (in the popular and not the Nietzschean sensc, of course) theater seeking to transmit a con lent, or to deli ver a message (of whatever nature: political. reli gio us, psychol ogicaL metaphysical , etc.) that would make a discourse 's meanin g intelligible for its listener~l< a message that would not be to tally e;~hall sted in the acl and presenllense 01' the stage, th al wo uld not coincitlc with lhe slage, thal cou ld be repealetl witholl t it. I Jere we lou<.;h upon wha l sccms lo he Ihe pro follnd csscnCl' 0 1' Arl a Ul.J'~ projcct, his hisl orico-llI..:t: lph ys ical
dl:t'ISi o ll .. Ir/(I/Id Ir(lI/lt'tI 111 ['fUI'I' fl 'ln'l/l illl/ il/ g el/C'ral.'" 1 '0 1' hi m. rüpctition was l'.., il, ull d (lile could dou htlcss lIIguni'Zc an elltirc rcadi ng 01' Iw; texts around Ihis CU II 11.: r . Repet il ion separatcs fl1lU\ prcsence, and life frolll themselvcs. This epaJ'al ioll is 1IIl' ecollomical and ealculating gest ure of that which dcfers I"'d l' ill ordcr to 11Hlintain itself, t hat which reserves expenditure a nd surren ,krs lo !Car. This powcr of rcpetition governed everything that Artaud wished In ckslroy, ano it has several names: God, Being, Dialecties. God is the l'Iernity whose death goes on indefinitely, whose d eath , as diffcrence and I epctition wi thin lifc , has never eeased to menace Ii fe . lt is not the living G od, but the Dcath-God that we should fear. G od is Death. "For even the infin ite IS dead , / infinite is the lla me 01' a dead man / who is not dead " (84). As soon . I ~ there is repctition, God is there , the prescnt holds on l O itself and reserves II scl f, that is to say, eludes itself. "The absolute is not a bein g and will never Iw one, rol' thcre can be no being wi thout a erime committed against myself, Ihat is to say, wit hout ta k ing from me a being who wanted one day to be god whcn this is not possible, God being able to manifest himself only all at once. ,'iVl'n that he m anifests himself an infinite number 01' times Juring aH the IIIlles of eternity as the infi nity of times and eternity, whieh create~ perpctu ily" (Septem ber 1945). Another name of re petiti on: Being. Being is the fo rm ill which the infinite diver::;ity of the forms and forees 01' life and death can indcfinitely merge and be repeated in the word. For there is no word , nor in gl!lIcral a sign, which is not eonstituted by the possibil ily o f repeating itself. A ~,igl1 whieh does not repeat itself, which is not already divided by repetition in ils "first time," is not a signo The signifying refe rral therefore must be ideal and idea lit y is but th e assured power 01' repetition- in order to refer to the sallle thing ea eh time. This is \Vhy Being is the key word of eternal repetition , 1he victory of God and 01' Death over Iife. Like Nietzsche (for example in 7/U! Uirl/¡ ol Philo,\'ophy), Artaud refuses lo subsume Life to Being, and inverses lh~' genealogical order: "First to Iive and to be aecording to one's soul; the prllblem 01' being is only their consequenee" (September 1945) "There is no ~'rcatcr enemy of the human body than being." (September 1947) Certain IIlhcr unpublished texts valorize what Artalld properly calls " the beyond of h.:illg" (February 1947), manipulating this expression of Plato 's (whom Artaud did not f~lil to read) in a Nietzschean style. FinaUy, Dialectics is th e move IlIellt through whieh expenditure is reappropriated into presenee - it is the .'conomy 01' repctition. T he economy of truth. Repetition summarizes negat IVlly , gathcrs and maintains the past present as truth , as ideality. The truth is always that which can be repeated. Nonrepetition , expenditure that is reso IlIt t: and withoul relurn in the lIniqllc time consuming the present. must put an L' IHI to karrul discursiveness, to unskirtable ontology, to dialectics, "dialecties 1.1 n ;rt ai n d ialccti.:s] bcing: that whi.:h finish ed me" (Septem ber 1945)17 Ikl Jcctil.:s is always tl ml which has finis hcd LIS , beca use it is always that whidl I(//,(",\' ¡1I/0 {J('co l/lI l (l UI fl' jl'cti nn 01' il. A'i it uoes our a ffirm ati on. T o 1,*C l dca lh as n:p':l ili l\t 1io; lo :Jl t¡II I\ dC;\l h as :1 prescn l ex pend iture without
It,
I '1
1( 1: 1'1( 1!.sl l N 1'¡\ 'IIIIN I ct llfll. Alid IlI vl:r~cly. This is a 'ic[¡cma Ilral Iw vel's (\ I"llll lll l NI~'I/"'l h~' ~ Il'pdi lion of a l'lirtna tivn. P u r\! I.!xpc llui turc. a bsululc gcncrosily ollcl itl), 111,' lIllicily orthe pr\!Scn ll o ucal h in order lO ma kc the presenl a ppear liS SI/clt, ha s already begun to wa nl to mainlain lhe p resenee ofthe presentohas a lrcady opened the book anO memory , the lhinking of Being as memo ry . N ot to want to main tain lhe present is to want to preserve thal which constitutes its irrcplaceable a nO mortal presenee, that within it wh ich can not be repea ted. To consume pure difference with p1easure. Such, redueed to its bloodless framework , is the matrix of the history 01' thought co nceptual izi ng itself since 1legel. 18 The possi b ility 01' the theater is the obligalory focal point 01' this thought whieh refleets traged y a s repetiti on. The menace of repetition is n owhere else as well organized as in the theater. Nowhere else is ane so c10se to the stage as the origin 01' repetition, so c10se to the primitive repetition \vhich would have to be erased, and only by detaehing it from itself as if from its double . Not in the sense in whieh Artaud spoke 01' Tll e T/leater a/1(/ ils Douhlc,19 but as designating the fold , tbe interior duplication whicb steals the simple presence 01' its present aet from the theater, from life, etc., in the irrepressible move ment of repetilion . "One time" is the enigma 01' that which has no l11eaning, no presence, no legibility. N ow, for Artaud , the festival 01' cruelty could take place only one lime: " Let LIS leave textual eriticism to graduate students, formal eritieism to esthetes, and recognize that what has been said is not still to be said; that an expression does not have the same value twice, does not live two lives ; that all words, once spoken, are dead and function only at the moment when they are uttered, that a form, once it has served, cannot be used again and asks only to be replaced by another, and that the theater is the only place in the \Vorld where a gesture, once made, can never be made the sa me way twice" (TD, p. 75). This is indeed how things appear: theatrical representation is finite, and leaves behind it, behind its actual presence, no trace, no object to carry off. It is neither a book nor a work , but an energy , and in this sen se it is the only art of life. "The theater teaches preeisely the usclessness orthe action whieh , once done, is not to be done , and the superior use ofthe state unused by the action and which , reslOrcd, produces a purifica tion " (TD , p. 82). I n this sense the thea ter of eruelty would be the art of dif ference and of expenditure without eeonomy, withoLlt reserve, without return, without history. Pure presenee as pure difference. Its aet must be forgotten , actively forgotten . Here, one must practice the aklil'c Vergesslichkeil which is spoken of in the second disserta tion 01' Tite Genea!ogy o/ Morals , whieh also explicates "festivity" and "cruelty" (Grau.I'amkeil). Artaud 's d isgust with nontheatrical writing has the same sense. What inspires this disgust is not , as in the Phaedrus, the gesture ofthe body , the sensory and I11Demonic, the h ypom nesiae mark exterior to the inscription of truth in the sO Ll I , but, on the co ntra ry, writi ng as the site 01' the inscript ion 0(' lruth, lhe lher of lhe living bod y, writing a'i idca lily. repet ili o n. Plato c riLici/cs writing as a hoc.ly; Arl auu criticil-cs il as Ihe eras ure of'lhl' hoJy. nr th\! livill,l' ges lll rc
IX
1 11j
wllid\ I ;¡¡"'cs pl;l\':c IInl y \l llce \V l lll lll' IS ~ Jl¡¡ C\.! ilsclr ano liJe pvssihi lily nI' III Wl ilil l1l 111 gCI1l'ra l. Th is is wlly " We ~Il\lu lc.l ge t rid uf our slI per:;titious \, dll;¡lillll .,1' 1\,:,'< ls alld wri llcl1 púel ry. Wrilten poel ry is wo rlh readiog on ce, .llld Ih,'11 Shlllild IlI..: dcstroyed " (TD. p. 78).
111 Ihlls elllllllcrali ng lhe lhemes 01' infid elity, one comes to understa nd very II1 "ddy Ihat Iidelity is impossible. T here is no t hea ler io the world toda y whidl rullills Arta uu 's des ire. And there woulJ be no exce pti o n to be maJe hit Ihe altcmplS maJe by A rtaud himself. He knew this better lhan any o ther: 1111: "g rall1mar" of lhe theater of cruelty, oí' wh ich he said that it is "to be 1, IIl1ld ," will always remain the in accessible limit 01' a represe ntation which is 11111 rcpctition , of él re-pre~e nt a tion which is full p resence, which does not 1 ;Irry ils double within itself as its death , of a presen t which does not repeat 1I sdl', that is , 01' a present outside time, a nonpresent. The present o ffers itself .1 '; slIch , appears , presents itself, opens the stage of time or the timc 01' the lagc only by ha rbo rin g its own intestine diffc rence, and only in thc interior Illld úf its original repetition , in representation. In dialeclics . Artaud knew this well: "a eertain dialectics. , ." For if Ol1e appropriateJy l'IJllecives the horizon of dialectics-o utside a conventional Hegelianism III le understands, perhaps. that dialectics is the indeftnile movement of finitude, 1'1' I he unity 01' life and death, of difference, 01' original repetition, that is, 01' 1he origin of tragedy as the absence of a simple origino In this sense, dialectics I'i Iragedy, the only possible affirm a tion to be made against the philosophica l "1 ('hristian idea of pure origi n, against "the spirit of beginnings": " But the .piril of beginnings has not ceased to make me commit idiocies, and I ha ve 11111 ccased to dissociate myself from the spirit of beginnings which is the ( 'IIristian spirit" (September 1945). What is tragic is not the impossibility but Ihe necessity ofrepetition. Arlaud knew that the theater 01' cruelty neither begins nor is completed \Vil hin the purity 01' simple prescn ce. b ut rather is already within representa 1illll . in the "second time of Creation," in the conAict of forces which could 11111 be lha t 01' a simple origi n , Doubtless, cruelty could begin to be practiced wil hin this conAict , bul lhercby it must also let itself be pcnelraled. The origin j " always penelraled. Such is the alchemy of the Ihcater. Pcrhaps bcforc proceeding further 1 shall be asked to define what I mean by lhe archetypal, primitive theater. And we shall thereby approach lhe very heart ofthe matter. Ifin fact we raise the question (Ir lhe origins and raisol1 d'e/re (or primordial neeessity) ofthe theater, we lilld . IIlc laphysically, the m a teri a liz ation or rather the exterioriza Ilo n 01' a kinJ 01' cssen ti al dra ma. a lready di.\jJosed and divided. oot su lTlu¡,;h as ll' lose Ihcir .:ha ra¡;ter ;,Lo.; principies. but enough lo co m prisc o in a slIbslanl ial am i adivc 1; lsh ion (j .c. reson an tly), an infinite pc rs peclivc nI' l'OI1 Hi¡;\:; , Id ;11I;!l Y/,C :S lldl a d ra ma philoso phically is 1'1
1{
I1l'ltl l.. 1 N 1I\II(lN
il11po~ sibl \:; o ll ly puel ll;ally .. .. And Ih iscs'ic l1l lal d lil lll ll, W..: ~\ll lIl' lo reali¿e. exilits, ano in lhe imuge or something suh llul Ihun ('n:aliol1 itselr, something wh ich m us[ be represenled as lhe rcs ul l o r one W ill alone- and lVilholll conjlicl , We m usl believe tha t lhc cssential drama , the one at the root o f all lhe G rcal Mysteries , is associ ated with the second phase of Creation, that of difficu1t y and of the Do uble, lhat of matter and tbe material i7ation of the idea. Tt seems indeed that where simplicity and order reign , there can be no theater nor drama, and lhe true theater. like poetry as well , though by other m ea ns, is born o ut 01' a kind 01' organiz ed anarchy. [TD, pp . 50- 5]]
111/
1111
\ lId II \\W I a lll goillg (1' ~.ly ' I'I1I\'llJillg wh iL:h, pcrhaps ,
is go illg lo st upiry l1H1ny pe,\p l~ .
I am tlll' CflCl11 y
orlheater.
I haVl! always bc~ n.
A s Illuch as J love the theatcr,
I a 111 , ror this very reason , eq ua lly its enemy .
\Ve see him immediatc1y afterward: he canno t resign hi mself to theater as rl~pclitio n . a nd cannol rcnounce theate r as nonrepe tition: The thcater is a passionate overtlowing a frightful transfer of forces from body to bod)'. Thi s transfer can no t be re produced twiee. Nothing more impious than the system 01' the Balinese which consisls, after having produced lhis transfer one time. instead of seeking another, in resorting to a system of particular enchantments in order to deprive astra l photography ofthe gestures thus obtained,
Primitive theater ami eruelty thus also begin by repetition . But ifthe idea ofa thealer without representation , the idea oflhe impossib1e, dbes no t help us to regulate theatrieal practiee, it does, perhaps, perrn it us to com:eive its origin , cve and Iimit, and the horizon of its death. The energy of Western theater thus lets itselfbe encompassed within its own pos~ibility, which is not accid ental and serves as a co nstitutive center and structuring locus for the cntire hlstory of the West. But re petition steals the center and the locus , and what we have just said of its possibility should prohibit us from speaking both of death as a horizon ami 0 1' birth as a past opening. Arta ud ke pt himself as c10se as possible to the Iimit: the possibility and impossibili ty of pure theater. Presence, in o rder to be presence and self presencc, has a lways alrea dy begun to represent itself, has always already bcen penetrated. A tlirmation itself must be penetrated in repeating itself. Wh ich mean::; t ha t lhe murde r ofthe father which opens the history ofrepres cntation amI lhe space 01' tra gedy , the murder 01' the father that Artaud , in SUIll , wa nls lo rcpeat at the greatest proximity to its origin but on/y a single lilll(' this Illurder is endless and is repeated indefinitely. It begins by penetr aling ils own commentary and is aceompanied by its own representation. In which it erases itself amI confirms the transgressed la\\'. To do so, it suffices that there be a sign, that is to say, a repetition. Underncath this side 01' the limit, and in the exlent to which he wanted to save the purity 01' a presence withoul interior difference and without repeti tion (or, paradoxically amo unting to lhe same thing, the purity of apure difference),20 Artaud also desired the impossibility 01' the theater, wanted to erase the stage. no longer wanted to see what transpires in a locality always inhabited or haunted by the father and subjected to the repetition 01' murder. Is it not Artaud who wants to reduce t he arehi-stage when he \\'fites in lhe Here-/ies: " 1 Antonin Artaud, am my son, / my father , my mother, 1amI myself " (AA , p. 238)? Th al he thercby kept himse lf at the limi l of lhea tricaJ possibil ity, a nu that he simullaneo usly wHnteu to p rou ucc ami lo annihilate lhe sl age. is what he knew in th e nl()st extreme way . Dccember 194():
Theater as repetition of that which does not repeat itself, theater as the original repetition of difrerence within the conflict 01' forces in which "evil is Ihe permanent law , amI what is good is an effort and already a eruelty added 11) Ihe other cruelty" such is the fatallimit 01' a eruelty which begins with its Ilwn representation. Bccause it has always already begun , representation therefore has no end. Bul one can conceivc 01' the closure of that which is without cm!. Closure is the circular limit within which the repetition of difference infinitely rl'pcats itself. That is to say, closure is its play ing spaee. This Illovelllenl is Ihe movement of the world as play. " Aml for the absolute life itself is a !:!me" (OC 4: 282). This pl ay is cruelty as the unity 01' neeessity amI chanceo ' 11 is ehance that is infinite, not god" (Fragmental¡ol1s) . This play 01' Ji fe is a rtistic. 1 1 To think the c10sure of representation is thus to think the cruel powers of death and play which permit presence to be born to itse1f, and pleasurably to nlllSU llle itselr through the representation in which it eludes itself in its dc rcrral. To think the cl osure of representation is to think the tragie: not as III\! r('prcsclltation 01' rate, b lll as the rate of rcpresentaÜon . Its gratuitous and ha scJcss nCl:\!SSi ly. A nll it i~ h) Ihink. \Vli y 11 is 1;/111/ lhat , in its closure, representation n m tllHlcs.
'0
'1
IUo.I'HIIS J·.N lA I lo N
Notes 84, p. 109. As in the preceoing es~ay on A rtauo , texts referreo to by uates are unpublisheo. [For the abbreviations used to refer to the English translations of Artaud. el'. La pa/'ole souJllée, ehap. 6 aboye, note 8.] 2 " The psyehology of orgiasm conceiveo as the feeling of a superabundance of vitality and strength , within the scope of which eve n pain acts as a s/im ulus, gave me the key to the eoncept of lI'agic feeling, which has been misunderstood not only by Aristotle, but also even more by our pessimists" (F riedrich N ietzsche, '//1(' TlVilig/¡t of /h(' !do/s. t rans o A nthony Ludovici [New York: Russe ll ano Russell , 1964], p . 119). Art, as t he imitation of nature, communicates in an esse nti al \Vay \Vith the theme of catharsis. "Not in order to escape from terror ano pity. not to purify one's sel!' of a oangerous passion by di seha.rging it wit h ve hemence- this is how Aristotle understo od it- but to be far beyond terror a nd pity and to be the ete rnallust ofbecom ing itself- that lust whieh also involves the IlISI ordes/rue/ion. An u with this I once moro eome into touch \Vitil the spot fram which I once set ou t- the ' Birth of Tragedy' was my first transvaluation of all va lues: with !his again I take my stano upon the soil from oul 01' which my will ano my capacity spring- J. the last oisciple of the philosophcr D ionysus- l, the prophet of eternal recurrence" (ibid .. p. 120). :3 TN. That r('presentation is the auto-presentation 01' pure visibility and pure sens ibility. amounts to postulating that presence is an effect 01' repetition. 4 T N . On the question of pa rricide and the " father of th e Logos," cf. " La pharmacie de Platon ," pp. 84ff. in La dissémina/iol1.. 5 Th(' T/¡elller (lml II.\' Douhle would have to be confronted with T he ES.I'ay 0/1 lhe OrigiIl4Lallgl/ages. The Bir/h o/7ú¡gedy, and al! the connected texts of R oUSSCélU and Nietzsche: the Sys/em of their amliogies and oppositions wOllld ha ve to be reconstitutcd. ú TD, pp. 60, 110. In th is sense the wo rd is a sign, a symptolll 01' living speech's fatigue, oflife's disease. The wo rd, as clcar speech s ubjeeted to transrnission and to repetit io n is death in la nguage. "One could Sely tha t the mind, able to go on no longer, resigned itself to the clarilies of speech" (C W 4: 289). 011 why it is neces sary to "change the role of speech in the theate r, " ef. TD pp. 72- 73 , 94 - 95. 7 TN . On thesc quest ions, cf. "Freud and the Scene ofWrüing:' chapo 7 above , note 12. 8 Les nEves e/ les moye/1.\' de les diriger (1867) is invokeu at the opening 01' ].('.1' rases ('ommuniCOI1IS. 9 " M iserable, improbable psyche that the cartel of psychological presupposi tions has never ceascd pinning into the musdes of hurnanity" (Ietter written from Espa lion to Roger Blin , 25 March 1946) "Only a very fc\V highly contest able doc uments on the Mysteries orthe Middle Ages remain. It is certain that they had , fram thc purely seenie point 01' vie\\', resourees that the theater has nol COlll,lincd for centuries. but one could also find on the repressed debates 01' the soul a seience that mo dern psychoanalysis has barely rediscovered and in a rnueh less efficacious and morally less fruitful sense than in thc mystical dramas played on the parvis" (February 1945). This fragrnent mllltiplies aggressions against psyc hoanalysis. lO TD , pp . 46 47, 60. II Against the pact 01' fear which gi vCl; birth lO man ami to God musl be resto red the unit y o fevi l a nd life, orthe Snlanic am i the divine: "1, M . A nt ~)J1in A rl:llld , ho rn in M arse illes 4 Septcmber 18<)6. I arn StI tan and 1 <1111 god anu J do nOI W:I 111 :1 l1yt hin/,!. t() do with Ihe Iloly Virgi Jl" (w rilt (! n ¡'mIli R<1dcz, SCJ1 lelll h~t fl).¡ 'i )
,,
r IlHI' ''IIAIIIIl I JI 1,' n l¡ Ila; ilJl l'grnl SptT lac k el ('11
1' )(, 11 1: 1. 1'\
' q Ilris Ihelll\; is uften aecolll panied by allu si <JII S ttl part idpa lioll a~ UI! . illl('r~"¡I~d t~ JlI()t ion ": tllC critique ofesthctic expericnce as dislnl l'rc sl cd tll' ~S. 1I recalls N il! l/.sche·s critique 01' Kant's philosophy orar!. No more in N itltlschtl tiran in A rta ud JJ1Ust Ihis theme con lradict l he va lue of gratuitous pla y in artistie c r()ation. Qui te In Ihe contrary. I \ 1 N. Brccht is thc major representative of Ihe theater 01' a lie nation. 14 I .('I/a fu M. dA lembert. transo A llan Bloom (Glencoe: Free Press, I9(¡O) , p. 126. IThese questions receive an exte nd ed treatment in de la GrammalOlogie, pp. 235fT.] I .~ The Iheatcr 01' eruelty is not only a spectacle witbout spectator~, it is speech without listeners. Nietzsche: "The man in a state of Dionysean excitement h
¡ .-~
IU'I' 1( 1; ~, N 1 1\ I 111 N
hiulscl f. . r he child thrnw~ a Wil y his 11I y S; huI SUlIlI 111: hllll l, lI 1' alll 111 all illllll ce nt fr ame ('1 1' minJ. As ,non how\!v~ r as I IK: chi ld bUllds he cn ll uccls , juills i.llld forms lawfully and according lo un in na tc sc nsc 01' orucr . Tlt us Illl ly is ¡he WQl"l d contemplated by the acs thetic man , who has Icarned ["m m lhe artist and th e gencsis of the lattc r'S work , how lhe strugglc 01' plurality can ye l bear within ¡belf la w a ndjustice, how the artist stands cOlltemplative above, ,tnd wo rking wit hin the work 01" art, ho w necessity a nd pl ay. an tago nism and harmon y must pair them sel ves ro r the procrcation of the work or art" ("Philosophy During the Tragic Age or tbe Greeks," in E arl)' Greek Philosop¡'y, p. lOS).
22
T H E TOOTH, TH E PA L M* Jecm-Fram,:ois Lyotard S,,"rcc: Translatcd by Ánnc Kn a p and Jvlichcllknamou , Suf¡SW l1 c(' 15 (l 'n6) : 105 110.
l . Theater places us right at the heart of what is religious-political: in the IK'art of absence, in negativity, in nihilism as Nietzsche would say, therefore ill the question 01' power. A theory 01' thea trica l signs , a praetice 01' theatrical si 1',11 S (dramatic text, mi se en scene, interpretation. arc hitecture) are based (JIl accepting the nihilism inherent in re-presentation. Not only accepting it: I\'inforcing it. For the sign, Peirce used to say, is somet hin g which stands lo ·;()\I1ebody for something. To Hidc, to Show: that is theatrality. The modernit y 01' our fin-de-siec\e is due to this: there is nothing to be replaced, no lieuten ;111<.:)" is legitima te, or else all are; the replacing- therefore the meaning-·is Ilsclr only a substitutc ror displacement. Takc two places A and B; a move Imm A to B means two positions and a displaccmen t; now decl a re that B ~'() llIes fro m A; yOll are no longer takin g R' s position positively, affirmatively, hui in relation to A, slIbordinated to A , itsclf absent (gone by , hidden) . B is lurncd into nothingness; as an illusi o n of prcsencc, its being is in A ; and A IS artirmed as truth, that is to say absencc. Su<.:h is the appara tus of nihilism. Is theatrality thus condemncd? By repeating this apparatus in its specific Il'l\ ding, semiology continues theology , the theology of th e death of God, of :.1 ructure. 01' critical di alectics, ctc. Displacement (Freud ' s Verschiebung or Entstellung) is an energy transfer, I-Ilo'ud said an economic proccss; lhe libido invests Ihi s or that region of the hod y's su rface (which tllrn s inward to its " internal organs" also); it estab )¡ ~;lt t!s ilsc\r there, in position A; it moves; it settles elsewhere; in position B. SII;t11 Wlo' say B represlo'nts A? l n his Petile (fl1a!omie de l'image, Hans Bellmer LIJ.. l' S Lhis cXH mph.:: 1 have a toothache. I c1ench m y 115t, my nails dig into the )111 1111 ofll1 y hanJ. T WLl in vcsU ncn ls LlftJ1e libido. ShalJ we say that the alo'tion ..1 1hl! pa ll1l n: prcscnls 1he plls~ i()1l of lhe looLh'! Tha l it is a sign of it? Is there 11. , pIIssih¡li ty lO reven,\! 011\: ;llIlIl he ot her. a hierarchy o r one posilion over 11 1\' ( \1 h \.' l , pI )wel' ot" une over ' II\.' 01 h\; r? I"or a na to mica l and physiological
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a lid h 1I .1II Y rclh:x iol). Ilu: :l 1I"WI: I h yl''i 01 Clllll'SC . In lhc nwvc ('1' Ihl: li hiJu. nu irrcvc lsi hilil y i.. poss iblc. I hc Crtl IH:-ll IPI hid boJ y can functi on in all dircction::.. c.JO go 1'('1)111 Ihe dCl1ch ing uf I he pallll lu tha l 01' th e jaw. from the fe ar (imagineo?) 01' a I'athcr 01" mOl hcr lo l.lbesity (rea l'!) or u\ce r (rea l?) of the stomach . This reversibility I'rom 1\ to B introouces us to the destruction of tbe sign , ano of theology, and perhaps of lheatrality. 3. Reversibi lity is part 01' om social , economie, ideological experience 0 1' modern capita lism , which is ruled by a sim p le law : value. In preca pitaJistic economy, the prod uct, production, cons umpt ion (which a re not even se pa r ateo as d istinct spheres) are related as si gns or as sign-making activities to positions d eem ed origi nal or pre-existing: the object, work , the destrllction or circulation of objects are thollgh l of wit hin a M ystiq ue or within a Physics. being thcre by and for another thing. Part 01' Ma rx's work perpetua tes th is semiotic theory of precapi talist economy , notably by using the category 01' use-value (of commodities, but especiall y of labor power). But the present experience of growth economy teaches us that so-ca11ed economic activit y has no anchoring in an origin, in any position A . Eve rything is excha ngeab1e , reciprocally, onl y under the conditions inherent in the law of value: work is no less a sign than money, money no more than a house o r carothere is only a flux metamorphosing into billions of objects and currents ·-such a teaching from politica l economy must be comparcd to what libidinal cconomy teaches us: both political economy a nd libid inal economy in so much as they shape our m odern Jife, suppo rt cr iticism and the crisis of the thca ter. A semiology wOllld inhibit the cri sis and gag the criticismo 4. Rcading Zeam i's treatises in R . Sieffert's translation , and at the same timc Artaud ano Brecht, whose ana lyses and concurrent failures still dom inatc toda y's theater , I am learning how theater, put al the place where dis placcment bccomes re-placement, whcre libidinal flux becomes representation , wavcrs between a scmiotics and an economic science. In th e tirst books of th e Fushi-kaden, the earliest (c. 14(0) Zeami multiplicd discontinuities; he divided up, the lite oflhe actor into periods, the year into seasons, the day into moments; mimicry into types, the repertory into genres 01' nó (of JIIaki, 01' ashura, of women , of the real world . .. ), the diachrony of the theatrical show in units (kyógen, /1(1) , assembleo according to an unchan gca ble seqllence jo-/w-kyú, the stage space into pl aces ascribed to sllch and sllch a role and to such and s uch a moment in the action , thc sound space into regions , the mimic ry into poses. the very public itself into categories, etc. This materi al is every semio logist 's dream; cverything is discrete a nd coded , each unit of one order referred to a un it 01' another and of al1 other orders; the whole game seems governed by the t\Vo principies o f the primary 01' signiíicati o n (i1vare ) and of the search ror th¡; g rca lesl agreement (.I'óó). To fully realizc thc sign sy'ilem. lhe acto r hi mscJ f had t ~) o isappcar as prcscncc: weari ng a mask. his ha nde; hidden ,
6
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wlll'lI plllVillg WOIII !.!II s roles; I IIl' IIUWt'1 U/I'I//') 01 Ihe pcrl'onnancc W as con "l'lved as ahsolll l¡; inl crprct;ll llln. l hal 1$ III say, nOIl-in tcrprClalion: a nd whcn pla y ll1g 11ll' I\llc 0 1' lIIadll1cn wi l hlll lt a mask, he would underl i ne the diftlcu1ty oi' pcrl'onllilll! llIadncss by allllsions to posscssion. thererore irnitating the pt)s<;cssor-dclllon , without howcver ralling into the expressionism offacial fea 11 11 es "whc reas there i::. no nccess ity to imitare the facia l express ion; it happens howcver lhat in changing one' s usual expression , one com poses rus cOllnten alll:C. Thal is the intolerable sight." l ntolerable in that it ma kes visible the invisible. it confuses bOllcs with sk in, subs tance with secondary effects, it viola tes the hicrarchy of social and corpo ral spaces distanced into front and had o into illllsion and reality. The extreme nihilism lurking in Buddhism is what pllshes th is semiotics to its limit, transformin g the signs into signs of nllthing, ol'the nothin g that is between the signs, between A and B; said Zeami, 11 is in the intervals between the actions he performs, be they spoke n. sung, danced or mimed , thus in moments whcn he is doing nothing, that the actor IS lruly a signo signifying the very power 01' signifying which is a deviation and a void: a puppet. Zeami cited in this connection a zen form ula about puppets which refcrrcd the Westerner to Rook VII 01' the R épuh/ique.
.., However the semiotics of Z eami Seems traversed , sometimes thwarted hya very differcnt drivc, a libidinal drive, él scarch for intensiveness , a desire l'tIr potency (isn 't it necessary to express nó as potency, i\lachl , might , in the Nictzschean sen se, in the same sense that Artaud takes cruaUlé?). Th e llame .,1' Ilower Uleur) is given to the search for the energetic inten sifiea tion of the thcatrical apparatus. The elements of a total "language" are divided and linked Illgether in order to permit the production 01' effects of intcnsity through ,; li ght transgression s and the infringeme nt of overlapping units. The signs are !lO longer looked al in their representative dimension , they don ' t even repres \'nt the Nothing any more, they do not represent , th ey permit "actions," they "perate as the transformers, fuel ed by natural and social energies in order to produce affects of a very high intensity. ]n this way, we can understand the ;r ppearance (a li!tle later) in Zeami's work of lhe themes of the unusual , of the lIuidity and the unpredictabl e effectiveness of acting, of th e unca1culable si!lniflcance 01' seizing the right moment; aboye aH th e fact that the f10wer (//cl/r) of interpretation is no thing, is only effervescent (shoiretaru). The well Iri~'d procedures (kojitsu), which correspond to the unit y ora culture which is ,t1so a cult, lhus make room 1'01' a flux in motion , for a displaceability , and fo r ,1 kind ofcrTcctiveness by means ofaffects, which belong to libidinal economy. 11 . Thc hcsitation ofArtaud was the samc as that ofZ ea mi . But it leaned the 1.lher wa y. I\rtalld so ught to des troy not so mllch the Ita lian, i.e. European I{ c!la issancl.:. thcalrical appal'í1 tu s. hu i a l least the p redo minance 01' arlicul ,lIcd lang uugc and Ihe ~ lI ppressiol1 0 1' I he hody. In (his way he expectcd to I ~'d¡sl'l) vcr a li hidinal cflil.'i\: IIVV .,1' Ihc pcrl'ormam:e: " powcr. " "underlying
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cncrgy," Ihe pow¡;r lo displ au: thé ul'lb.: ts wllk h W OI '" hy 11r~' di li p\¡I Cl~ IIH;l1t nI' weJl-ordered units: " the sccrct 01' the tht:alcr in spau: is dissolltl llce, tbe dis crepancy 01' voice lim bers and the diakl:tical occoTlca tcna lio n 01' discoursc." Here is evidenee o f something very closcly ap proaching li bidinal economy: " in the ardour oflife, in the lust of life, in the unreasoned impulse oflife, there is a sort of initial mea nness, the desire of E ros is a cruelty bcca llse it b urns contingeneies, death is üruelty, resurrection is cruelty, transft gurati on is cruelty, beca use in al! directions and in a circular and closed \Vorl d, there is no r oom for true death , beca use ascension is a tearing away, beea use the c10sed space is teaming \Vith Iifc, and becau se every stronger Iife passes through other lives, thus devollring them in a massaere which is transfiguration and a positivc good." But on the wa y to this gcneraliz ed dissemiotizat ion , Ártaud stopped a nd what stopped him was nihilism, religion , (perceptibl e even in this Lellre sur la cruolllé). For intensities to I"unction , he had to ma nufacture a " tool " which would again be language, a system 01' signs, a grammar of gestures, of hieroglyphics. " That is what he thought he found in Eastern theater, particu larly in Japanese and Balinese. Thus he remained a European, he repeated the "invention " of an agreement bet'vveen the body and the senses, he repeated the great discovery 01' the uniting of t he Eros-libido with the libido as dcath wi.sh, he repeated his "e thnograph ie" mise en scene here on th e Eastern stage. But the Eastern schoolmaster, no less nihilistic than hi.s Western pllpil , had to also " invent" th e paradise, whether Buddhi.st or any other, ofnon-duality. In this way the mutili ation that Artaud is fleein g comes back to him by way of Balinese hieroglyphics. To hush the body with the writer 's theater, dear to bourgeois Europe of the 19th century, is nihilistic; but to make it speak the lexicon and syntax 01' mime, song, dance , as the nó does , is again a way of annihilating it; a bod y completely transparent , skín and flesh of the bone which is spirit, untollched by all displacemcnt, events, líbidin al denseness . Not to mentíon that modern Europe does not have at its disposal any Iwjitsu , a ny certified mean s of conveying the affeets; it wants signs and speaks 01' them a t the very moment that it lacks them . This is why Artaud put more emphasis on the sacred than did Zeami .
ill ils 111111 , 1I1110dllces ill lo Brl..'l.:lr lid ll plllywl'ili llg and sel!uograph y, a COll1 plex appilral lls, 110 h.:ss pn:l.:ise , Ilrat Blcelrl defilles a ~ distan ci alion . D istanciation .Ippear:; In be an ex t reme case 01' ni hilisl11 , lhe ador perfo rllls such and such ;lU acti on il! such and such a siluati on, bul his tcxL his acting a nd the whole lIlise el! sccuc lake hold 01' this action in order to show that it could be a uot lrer: "lo act out aU the scenes in terms 0 1' other possible scenes." This is a pmccss Ih a t red uces its object to nothing, much as the recounting o f a wit ness I)U Ihe street comer, far from actualizin g the aecident, di stanciates it through discoursc. Itere Brccht can also ca ll upon Eastern thea ter (especially C hi IK'se): "it is evidentl y a matter 01" repe tition by a third part y of a process, o f a Ikscription admittedl y artful. The artist shows (representing someone in a I agc) that this man is beside him self, and he poin ts to completely ex.ternal ...iglls lhat prove it (for exampl e, taki ng a lock of his hair betwecn his teeth alld biling it off). But no ni hilism can realize itself, alI nihilism m ust rem a in I'digious; where there is a gap between A a nd B (the nihil) , there must al so ;tlways be the link between A and B (to connect it, the religio). W hat performs , Iti rc1igion in Brecht is the language apparatus of Marxism: the \vh ole theat I ical cnecliveness which he anticipa tes, relies lIpon a system 01' beliefs, not I )lIly the bc1ief that lherc exist sociological determinations that eorrespond to cClmomic structures, bul the belief that these determinations form the deep Il'x icon and grammar ofhistorical passions, that they produce and govern lhe dlsplacement of a ffects a nd the investments of the theatrica l alldienee. T hat is why this theater is called epic thea ter. Bu t ours is no longer a time of the e pie ;lIly more than of tragedy or of savage cruelty. Ca pitalism destroys all the endes, including the one that gives industri al workers the role ofthe historieal 111'1'0. The Marxism of Brecht = an epic grafted onto a critique. After a cen tllry 01' International Congresses and half a century o/" Socialist States, \ve 1IIIIst say: the graft has not ta ken , neithe r as dramaturgy, scenography, nor as IV llrld politics. M a rxist sem iotics is as arbitrary in the theater as is any other ,L' nr iotics for correlating the perl"ormer a nd lhe performed and to allow the ,'o llll1lunication of the audience with itself through the mediary 01' the stage . ).i
7. Will the theater ha ve lO limit itself to a critical function? the only one allowed by the cri s i ~ of modernism? That \vas Brecht's solution . To him , it is not cnough for the rnovement of the hand to make a silent allusion to the toothache, effectiveness is defin ed as a process of undcrstanding or ofrealiza tion , that is to saya process of appropriation, of espousing the cause (posi tion A). The theater aims a t m ak in g us recognize that there exists a structure connecting the tooth a nd the list , connecting such ami such a beha vior 01' M other Courage lo such a nd such an infrastructure, and such and such anot her behavior lO such amI such an ideology. The theatrical cffecti veness. defined as knowleugt!, is med iH \.cd by '\:onsciencc ." "C'onsdcnl.:c" is. in facl, a precise lunguagc upparu lu s. Ma rxisl materialism: lhis arpa l all ls \)rlallf!.uag~, ~
Alienation itself, a nihili stic, religious and again Marxist category, must
" lo' Ihought through affirma tively . The impo rta nce 01' aliena tion is not that it I1n illts out thc distanee from an origin , fro m a lost nature , its importance is 111 Ihc way Marx a nalyzed it in the introducti on to the COlllrihutio!1 critique .1" 1'/"/'ol1o/fúe politiqie in the Grundrisse in (the unpublished) Chapter VI of "'//liIUI /: as imlilTerence 01' mall towards his work and of work towards its 1111111, 01' 11l0ncy 10wanJs that which it ca n buy and of the commodity towards . 1'. 1I1 \IIH~ tary coun lcrpa rl (and its posscsso r). This indi llerence is the experi .111\: ut" Ihe prclhm linallcc 01' exchangc val uc. We must sto p thinking 01' it as (tre Illss 01' S\1I11ct hing. lhe loss 01' tht: d iITercnl:C, that is to say 01' qualification , r.11'I l]l ra lít)' . IISUgl!. l1lt:ani llt' a~lcCtnCn l . flOsscssion . Ra ther let's th ink of it f1p·,l ll vd y. l!li s i Il JiITc,~cl1c~ 1c:l\ ls 11, lihld inlll cconom y. to a direct linkin g 11)
tel IIIt! s IlN ', ',\ 'I ' IUN
wililOllt r~r n.:!'jC lll tl l iOll llr I h ~ pulilil'all'I,OIl lh \lllY wil ll ithldll htl ~'l·( lIll lO l y . Thc thcory 01' valuu pUls us po Lcn tia lly nit o" 11 oll-hil.llü rl:hkal ci11.: 11 la 1iUII , whcrl~ the tooth a nd the paJm no longer have a relalionship 01' illusion alld trulh, t.:ause and effect, sign iner and sign illcd (or vice versa) , b ut lh ~y coexist, inde pendently, as tra nsito ry ÍDvestments, accidentall y composíng a constellation halted for an instant, an actual m u1tipli¡;jty of s tops in t he circula Lio n 01' energy. The tooth a nd the palm no 10nger mea n anyt hing, they are t'orces. intensities, present atTects. 9. An energetic theater woukl prod uce events that a re effectively discon tinuous, sllch as the acts lloled ra nd omly o n slips of paper themselves being lots, drawn by J ohn Cage and proposed to the interpretors ol' Thealer Piece. Likewise what this theater necds, in stead ofsóó, ofagreement between dance, music, mimicry, words, scasons, time, the public and nothing, is rathcr the independence and tbe sim u1taneity of noises-sounds, of words, body arrange ments, images that characterize the co-productions of Cage, Cunningham, Rauschcnberg. By eliminating the sign re1ation and its hol1owness, one makes the power relation (hierarchy) impossible, and consequently, what beco mes also impossib1e is the so-called do mination of the playwrite + metteur en scene + choreographer + stage-designer over the so-callcd signs and also over the so-called spectators.
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Il' I'I;I\':(J IIICIII ,,1 p Ctl tlll ll:II IW olllh\.: 'PlI lsldc " Ihe Illoth achl? l1ll lhc " inside ," 11\ I l'111\'~l'lI \ alio n by Ihe d~ tl chll1i' n f lhc Ib t. BIIllhc bllsi nesti or an energetic IIn'a lel is 1101 \u Illa ke allusioll IPl he Hching loolh when a dcnched fiSl is the IHII III, 11tH 111 t: levcrsc. lIs b usiness is ncither lo suggcst that such and such II l l'a ll ~ slIch alld slIch. nor lo say it, as Brcchl wanted . J ~ b usiness is to produce Ilre hi!'.hcsl in h:nsity (by excess or by lack of cnergy) of wh at there is , without IIll l'lIli n ll . Tltut is my qucstion: is it possible, how?
Notes '/I IHII /)('~ D is(JIJ.I'ilils pul.l'ionncls. Pe rmission grantcd.
I i\ pUII is hcre intcnded: licu-len a nt = place holder.
10. So-called spectators, beca use the notion ofsuch a person or such a func tion is itse1f eontemporary \Vith lhe predominance of the re-presentation in sociallife; ami specifically ofwhat the modern West cal1s po1itics. The subject is él product 01' the performance apparatus, it disappears when the apparatus disappcars.
11. As for the thcater as place, this affirmative thinking ofalienation imp1ies not only the bankruptcy 01' the hierarchized re1ation stage/house, but that of the hierarchized re1ation of inside/outside. For all theater is an apparatus duplicated at least once (sometimes more than once; Humlel , Moral-Sade , La prochaine foisje vous le chantcrai: it could be reversed , it could be displaced: actors playing in the wings, the audiencc seated on stage) thus made IIp of t\Vo limits. of two barriers filtering the coming and going encrgies; one limit (1) which determines what is "exterior" to the theater ("reality") and what is " interior," a second limit (2) wh ich, on the inside, disassociates what is to be perceived and what is not to be perceived (underneath, stage 1ights, wings, chairs, people , .. ). C riticism, involved in the new theater, addressed itself essentially to the problem of the se.co nd li mit (2) , as staging and architectu ral experiments proveo But the crisis is now that of the first limit (1); stage + house/"outside." It is a selective lim it, pa r excel1ence; sound s, lights, wonls. eyes , C¡U'S, poslures. (ano lherefore (lIso in capitalism , Ihe wa llels) gel sOlted ou t so thul wlw t is a Lih iJi nal disp lacllment muy yicld 10th\.: Ic-prcsc.:n lulivc \O
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Was it always so difficult lo orien t oneself. to place oneself, to choose sides, to step into a fram e? Consider the scene of The Taming o{the Shrew. i\ woman surveys the scene, A page, dressed up as a woman , surveys the scene. A boy, dressed up as a page, dressed up as a woman , surveys the theatre of which s/he is a part. The character beside him lusts for him . lt is, \Ve are told , his part. And so, and yet, " \Ve" lust for the page/woman, the page of woman , the scripted wo man , \Ve entertain the sexuallonging, enjoy the masqucrade of femininity, den y our own construction within this carnivalesque version of aristocratic/ sexist/sadistic theatre which gazes at itself and fondles its own power re1a tions. AmI as we watch these eh.aracters \Vatching these plays within plays located somewhere within the a lwa ys e1 usi ve bo undaries of Th e Tam ing vI the Shre11', as we sil silen tly in t he protcclÍve darkness and fultlll om role a::; sanclioned voye llrs, o ur ga.ze always rcturn s to that enigmpcl.' l aclc in
whil'h s/h~ a ppca ls as aU lÜellt'C, ill wllich w\.~ a prea r as auJic nce, e rasing d isli lldiolls pc tWCCIl play ami rca hl y'! A nd yct is not Ihis ambiguolls god .I v,,!; hOlh IlIll C level gender uncertainty is engaged by this figure, much as it was when \W lirsl disavowed, after having perceived , genital diffe rence. f" reud wo uld 1I.!:ld in lhis page proof of the male subject's perceplion ol' the little girl as \'; I-;lrated, ami so of the \Voman as al ways a lready a ma n in d.rag- tll e li ttle 'i rl as a little man . 1 We may read altogether differcnt ly, and fi nd in this cbar ¡¡l"Icr the character 01' sexual difrerence itself, a surplus as well as a lack. The 1'lIardian ofthe " t r uth" ofsexuality- which is always \vithhcld beca use always 0111 imposture the page flirtatiously, fraudulently suggests consummation IlI d tantalizes with the fiction of difference. lnasmuch as we all mist.ake, IlIisrccognize sexual identity, we are all , like Sly, taken in by the play. Yet the lh ama of the page is the drama of lang uage ¡tself, which suggests not onl y 1IIL' lIlasq uerade that is l'emininity, but the inevitability of the la\\' of form , the IIIl'diation of sexuality by cultural representation , and the power of language 11) inscribe the raw energy of the drives. Is the relation 01' the sexes the quintessential trompe toei/? Most 01' li S are Llllliliar with tlle story Lacan tell s of the engendering of the subject througb I.lIlguage: a little boy and [ittl e girl are seated in a train facing each other a nd ' ,11 see opposing sides of the station which they a re approac hing. " ' Look ,' says 1111; brother, 'we're a l Ladies!' ; 'ldiot!' replies his sister, 'Can' t you sel' we're at I il.:lltlelllen. '" As Lacan observes: " F or these children, Lad ies and Gentlemen wlll hc henceforth two countries towards which each of tbeir souls will strive "11 divergent wings, and between which a truce \ViII be the more impossible ',IIICC lhcy are actually lhe sallle country and neither can compromise on its ,,\Vn supcriority without detracting l'rolll the glory 01' th e other."" Lacan bere ' "g)!csts how language amI sexual dil'ference are intertwined: perhaps less IIl1pnrtant than the misdirection of these little souls is the arbitrary identi II L':ll ion 01' these bodily egos and so th e misdirection of their libidinal energies, y,'1 allotber fonn 01' !11(;connaissal1ce , Lacan draws two identical doors with 111,' words "Iadies" and "gentlcmen" written under thcm to remind us that the '11' lIilicr docs not "sta nJ fo r" the thing, but only makes sense in relationship 111 ,IlIot\Jn signilicr. Similarly, male and remale, regardless 01' biological dif IUl.: lln:s, aré prou lIcls 01' a lin guistic sign ifying system , so that male is neces .i ll ily " nnl lCmak" and k m a k "\111 1 male. " A s Jacqueline Rose observes: " In 1 IIC'II U'S acc() llll 1, s~xu al idclI tit y lI pcr a t~ as él law it is something enjoi ned 111 1111(.' SlI b lCL' 1. Fnr hi m, llw Im:llh at illd iviJ ua ls mll st line up accordjng to an 111'PIIS ll i' )1 1 (hav lIIg \Ir 111 11 h:I VIII ¿;' 1111: p[¡: dl u¡, ) mak.cs Ihal d C~lr.'"
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F RAME -UP Feminism, psychoanalysis, theatre Barhara Fl'eedman Sourcc: Thealre Joul"I1o/40Lll (1 <)XS): 375 397.
In the dark 1 orient myself in a familiar room when I can seize on a single object whose position I can remembe r. Here obviously nothing helps me except the capacity of determining positions by a subjective ground of distinction. F or I do not see the objects whose position 1 should find , and if someone had played a joke on me by putting on the Ieft wha t was previo usly on the righ t while still preserving their relationships to each other, I could not flnd my wa y in a room with otherwise ind istinguishably equal walls. But I 500n orient myself th ro ugh the mere feeling of a difference between my left ami right sides. - Kant, Critique ()( Pra.ct ica/ Rea.\"ol1, 295
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« ;;111(11' "IICC IIII'll y I.ISsC~~l'S I ll l'~ l lIlIl'd gouls o r feminismo psycho.lmd ysi s,
dc\:ulls IllIl"li tll! il! lile poslnllldclIlil'i t l'llt erpri sc. insofar as a Uare similarly 11Il'dll-.Ucd IIpO ll suhve rtillg 111\': ligul'Cl lioll ofdilTcrcncc as binary opposition. "tl llctll ralrSIlI .uld sl'llliolics, Ibe Iwill harbillgers anJ now culprits of post llli llh'lIlisl tlreory, process experiences into polar oppositions which ofTer an IlIlI Siu lI ll r Alterna Livcs nature/culture, passive/active, m ale/ fem a le-rather tllll lI a wllt inllUIl1 of dilTerellces. The deciding gesture for the avant-garde II I\:or isl n:mai ns Derrida's critiq ue ofthe metaphysical basis ofthe di vi si on 01' 11 1\' sig n into signifier and signified, form and con ten t, writing and speech, " 'I "l:Sl~lltati on and presence, as welI as his critique o f the tra nscenden tal .II"lilieJ or sujet supposé sa voir- whether Man, God, o r History- who stands IIl1 lsidt: them and guarantees their stabili ty. The problem here is not onl y IlIl' prctcnsc that the significd is somehow immune from commutability, 1111111 bcing transfor11led into another signifier, but the way in which such " ppllsitions dcpend as well on a subject who conceives or perceiv es 01' these ,Id rcrenccs while standing somehow outside them. F urther, this organization 111 ex pc rience is not only ideologically coerced but cocrci ve, insofar as it 1001I 1I:S und binds a larger fie ld ofdifTerences through repressive and repressing 1. 1\"1il·S. and in lurn pri vi leges and proc ures one term at the expense 01' the !tIJ a:r, be it Male versus remale or Consciousness versus lhe unco nscious. 1h'C\lnstructive techniques fu nction to unsteady ifnot dismantle such opposi II¡'"S, and the revival 01' feminist and psychoanalytic theory owes much to 11I,'ir slIccess. What surprises in G allop's formulation is her use ofthe word "theatrical." Wlly is polariz ation "a thealrical represeutation 01' djfTerence"? Whereas 111,' rclationship of ideology an d genre is hardly Gallop's subject here, the llk lllification of theatre with a defensive, ideologically complicit ordering of JI 11 h.: rt:llce constitutes a serious challcnge to those for whom theatre offers 111 l'piste11lological m od el or mode of inquiry. Is theatre the guarantor of 11<,1a1 ities-part and paree! 01' the "great se11liological myth 01' the versus" 111 , as Barthes contends, designed to subvert them?7 ls deconstruction theatre's Il\l'lIly or its doublc? Is a feminist theatre possible, or possibly a contradiction 0111.1
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I hose in scarch 01' the poor monster, dramatic thealre, will d iscover it thc role 01' the scapcgoat for Wcstern humanism in a new-fangled IHI~ tlll\ldcrn morality play. Accused and found guilty as a machin e of the I I I\' alld an cnemy 01' the peoplc, drama is charged with the job 01' carrying IWII Y Ilre l'ourfolJ sins of phallocentrism, humanism, individualism, and Iq"l.·sc ntatiol1 along with its demisc. In this con test 01' lhe avant-garde with " ·.dl \)11 lhc ¡¡ci d 01' rcprescntation . theatrc has indeed been hoist on its own 1'\:li lld ij Lo ng dcridcd as one n I' Ihe last bastions 01' humanism in li tcrary ll llll l\ ~s. olle u f Ihe few free ¡,ones wlll.:rc character, plo l. and even presence 1I .t'lI collkl lravcl 11 nd isl 11 rl1\.:d. lll1SllspccleJ, a nJ un::; uspccting, theatre is onl y 1111\\ 11 1 lile ¡')fOCCS S ,ti saving 1,,('11' I¡y deny ing ilscl r. T ravcling incognito as 111 1111 i111:,'.
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w' )1I1d yOll WCIC .I~ I w,u ald 1a; I\C yll\l be." is rc placl'd by lhe mo lto , tllat tlla l is, i ~ ." we :ice IlilW í:l 11llctly a~ wd l a:; tra gcJy promotes the inter !,II'Lltioll 01' idcll ti ty il ~ dl!$liny . As a psydlOa nalyst amI lcacher 01' Frelldian theor)', Lacan 's rcading of 1I11111 u Il psychic dcvclo pment also rehes heavi ly upon tradit.íonal narratlves o f Wl'stCrtl drama . a nd so is colored by lhe same sense of transcendent Ja w or l h\'cs ~ ity whil.:h lim its its potenti al for envisioning change. Lacan 's prima ry IlI tcn.::-;1 is ill the sp1itting and so procllring 01' the subject in language as it Il lI pinges 011 human psychic functioníng . This leads bim to be as interested in tlll' illstability of'sexllal identity as ego identity, and to see both as a fun ction .1' \ division alld reprcssion, of the ordering fictions by mean S 01' which the "¡'.\! as slIpplelllcnt gets set into place. Lacanian theo ry has pro ven especia11 y lI~erll l rol' describing how masculinity depends upon wo man as bolh the I .I>;t ra led Other and as externalized lack. J\.n d thi s model of woman as lack ll )rtstituted the basis of the ea rly analyses by feminist theorisls 01' trad ítional pha llllccntric narrative and cinema. rhe most in ll uential feminist analyses of cinema aud narrative have been ,L'I rorth by Laura M ulvey and Teresa de Lauretis, both 01' whom expose the Wll)' ill which the pleasure ofthese genres depends upon and in lurn develops "I.: rcive identifications with a position of male antagonism toward women . IlIso!'ar as theatre incorporates many 01' the scopic and narrative pleasllres as I II ll'ma, thcse formulation s- however Iimited - also apply to thea tre, and yet Ill ay also help to c1 arify the differcnees between the ways in which theatre .\l ld cincma stage difference . Since the male is traditi ona lly envisioned as the IIl'a 1'I.: r of the gaze, the woman represcnted as the fetish ized object of the gaze t M 1IIvcy), the gaze itself emerges as a site of sexual difference. The c1assic 1'l m~lIIatic gaze splits us into male (voyeur) and female (exhibitionist) . Seeing, r\:m rding to this staging 01' the cinematic apparatus, is always already a 1ll,ltkr 01' sexual differem:e. Insofar as c1 assic theatre incorporates not only .)1l'l:.laclc but narrative ·--so that the maJe is represented as a mobile agent as \V,' II as a bearer of the gaze, the femaJe as the object to be actively trans 1"lllIcd by hi m- action as weJI as sight has implicatíons for the study o f 'l:lI dl'r ideology . Not only pleasure but plot is derivcd rrom maJe fantasies wllicll depend on the scopic and narrative exploitatioll 01' woman: she is the IIl1r ltpin in the system whose losses propeJ lhe relay of looks and whose sins IIIIIVl' lhe plot fo rward . In question , lhen , is the reliance oftheatrical desire on t[¡ l' ktis hizcd spectade of woman and the narrative of her domination and 1'lI lIlshmcnt.. Can we ever cscape The Taming oj'l/¡e Shre\V? ¡he join 01' Icminism and cinema has dearly proved productivc for the , I il iqllc 0 1' Iradi lioll al ci nema and lhe construction of a vant-garde tllms alike. ....'1 wlt l: rl~aS l:inema can challcngc Qr deco nstr llct the symbolic by dissolving 111 dl~ plJrsil\g lite illlagc, traJi lil) ll a l thca lrc i:;; necessarily m ore tied to the l'Iy ll 11 lOl il: lo lh(; ego, thl.: imilgc. Ihc uni tHry individual. Whereas theatre ¡\lh''i ti o m, lllc valid ity <,r l1l .t s ).. !) ¡,y virtlll! ~l !' tl u;i r a hility l O be exchanged. it \'/
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1I psychoanalysis and feminism si lllilar1y expose the arbitrar)' and divisi ve 11 ,"slrllclion ul' subjccl posi tio l1 s. both are similarly constrained precisely by tl l,1 1 whidl lhey wo uld cha llgc . ('on lcm porary psychoanalytic theory offers 11I 1"\:IITlpl c. inaslTl llch 41:-' Icmi ni sh who elllploy Lacanian methodo logy are in 1'1 111 II:IIlH.'d hy ;·1 d is~'\I \l I ",e lll\ . ISII al iOI1 a nd phall ic si gnifie rs wh icb they may w.~ 1I 1101 S\!i!k 111 1~l'n)du.:l.· \p\lI I H I ~ hl:rc is .ra ne Ga llo p's assertion that ir
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Il Ilpl h Icminism and psychoan alysis face the central question 01' how to in ter \l' ne in the cultural reproduction of sexual differenee without al ways already Iwing entangled in it ·a problem posed not only by a play like The Taming ,'11/1/' Shrew bu t repeated in the wri ting on Shrew; not only by feminist and Ih vchoanalytic theory but within the theories themselves. What feminism ,llId psychoanalysis share is the goal of reconstrLlcti~ng subjectivity [rom the d' '> 1uptive perspecti ve of the unconscious and sexuality, language a nd ideo I,,~,.y. so that it never rests sta ble or secure. Each discipl ine acknowledges the ,JI IIlIacy 01' the signifying dependenee of the subject on t he O ther. and is , 1\\IIIllitted to devcloping ways 01' re-visioning the subject in rel a tionship to IhL: (>thcr's gaze. Yet thal ver)' paradigm has also stymied productive feminist rl"l ll\"lIlulations of subjectivity, insofar as "safe" descriptions of a phalloeentric .lIde\" have taken the plaee 01' prescriptions for change. !"he play 01' the eonstitutive gaze in postmodern theory usual1y registers as .1 \Villy paradox rather than the trap 01' ideology containing and preventing • hll ll gC. Thc bind 01' the constitutive gaze has surfaced most notably in Julia "llsh.:Ví.l 'S dcscriptions of the problem of how to convey on the side of lal1 ' II;l gC and representation lhe experience outside of it. 11 Assuming that \Vomen 1t ,l w hccn exduded from the scene 01' representalion- how to place that \ rl\'ricncc in representation? The eonstitutive gaze is characteristic 01' cinema 111 Iltal il slages Ihe desire to see oneselfsecing onese1fthat never gets outsidc Il w ll".
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" the P (; Uis is wh¡t t illen ha ve éll H.! wurnclI d() IIlll . 1111: plt ,lI ll1" 11' t 111: a t t I íhule of power which ncitlwr mCI1 Iwr wOl11en have, Bul (1:-; lo ng Ihl' al tributc 01' power is a p hall us wh ich rercrs LO and can be conruseu ... wi th a penis. this confusion wi ll support a ~tr ucture in which it seem s rcasonab le that men haye power and women do not. A nd as long ~s psychoanalysts maintain the separability of ' phallus' from 'penis.' they can hold on to thcir 'phal1u:)' in the belief th a Ltheir discourse has no rela tion to sexual ineq uality, no rela tion to poli ties." 12 Those who read Lacan closely an swer t hat his phal10cenlric J iscourse is intent ionally reflective of the problems he sought to portray. Mo reover, they remind us that the speci fic configurations 01' the Symbol ic are indeed open to change in t he Lacanian schema. As ElIie Ragland-SlIll ivan observes: "We must remember that the Symbolic here does not mean an ything represent ative of a second hidden thing or essence. Rather it refers to that order whose principal function is to mediate between (he lmagin a ry orde.r and the Real. The Symbolic order interprets, symbol izes. a rticulates, and uni versalizes both the experiential and the concrete which , paradoxically, it has already shaped contextual1y. " J3 Yet Lacan's Symbolic was developed in the context of a specific histo rieal period 01' intelIectual tho ught, one heavily inftuenced by strllctural anth ropol ogy. As Louis Alth usser protests, " Jt is not enough to know that the Wcste rn family is patriarch ic and exogamic ... \Ve must also work o ut the ideological formations that govern paternity, maternity , con jugulity , and childhood." 14 JIlsofar as Lacan 's writings ignore the material and historical nature of social organiza tion and social change, they betray a d islu rbing complacency toward structuralist and phallocentric versions 01' a transcendenl law, whether in the form of the phal1ic signifier, the law 01' the fat her, or the law of the symbolic order. Lacan 's Sym bolic is heavily dependent upon Lévi-Strauss's aecount of lhe origin of our m yth of difference in íncest taboos , taboos which function to transform a state o f " nature" into one of "culture": "The prime role of cul ture is to ensure the group's existence as a group , and consequently, in this domain as in all others, to replace chance by organization. The prohibitíon of inccst is a certain form, and even highly yaried forms , 01' in te r\lention . But it is intervention over and aboye anythíng else; even more exactly it is Ihe intervention ."15 As an exogamy rule , the incest taboo functions to establish a system of social relati onships. Jt replaces the taboo of intrafamilialmarriage \Vith interfamilial marriage , and so seis up social roles and values. Of crucial interest here are the mythic and ideological aspects 01' Lacan's Symbolic Order, since it fails lo explain the practice it describes , repeating the very difference it purports to explain. Ob serves Jacqueli ne Rose: " Laca n's use of the symbolic ... is ope n to the same objeetions as Lévi-$trauss' account in that it presu pposes Ihe subordination which it is in tended to cxpla in , Thus wh.ile a l f1rst gla nce lhese remarks , , SCCIll most c ri lical (1ft he onkr dcscri bcd. lhey are in ,IONhe r scnsc cl)mplici t wilh Iha! ordCr. " lfo
1.;1\::11 1\ :-'y lll hlllic Illust he IIIH h! r..¡ tuOlI both ill Ik co ntcxt 01' the structuraJ ,lIIth rllrol()gy Up OIl which il d n,:w a mi thc objecl rd ut.ions theory against whk h il ddi ncd il sdr. "Taking tJIC cxperience ofpsychoanalysis in its develop ll11'fl t over sixly ycu rs." observes Lacan expansively, " it comes as no surprise lo 1101e lhat whereas lhe first outcome of its origins wa s a conception 01' the ~lIs tr
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I.:on ligu nl tion n I' sexu a l dif'fcll:ucc po"i Jlg. a.s eil hcl I1U ll1I1I 1 \11' Ji vine. /\1 Ihe samc timo, he n.:ganls such im poslure a s ine vitable. as lite (,:omi(.' 111l:alrl.: nI' m i.¡¡recogniti llns in which \Ve necl:ssarily exis\. Likl: Pelrw.: hio, Lacan articul a tes the fcminist dilem ma in lerms 01' the impos~ i n ility of brea king the mirrar 0 1' ideology, yet exempli nes in his "co rrectcd" m isogyny the problem of bcing a part of the problem he wo uld describe. He argues that womun does not exi st except as a fantasy or theatrical constr uct, ycl reines a c ultural myth 0 1' the exc hange of women as the basis of civilization. Lacan eq uates a particular configuration of soci al p ower with the symbolic order, universalizes the Oedipa l law, and identifies the pa te rnal metaph o r as the Pliv ileged level of representation itself, the inevitable lhird term that must intervene between mother an d child, O be ron- like, to bring "na ture" to a state of "cu ltu re ." F oJlowing Ro y Scharer's analysis of psychoanalytic narrativcs, Teresa de Lauretis identifies the frame here: " while psychoanalysis recognizes the ¡nherent bisexuality oftbe subject, for whom remini nity and masculinity are not qualities or attributes but positions in the symbolic processcs of (self )-representatio n, psychoanalysis is itse1f caught up in ' the ideological assigna tions 01' dis course.' the structures 01' reprcsentation, narra tive, vision , and meaning it seeks to analyze, revea1. or bring to ligbt. "' Xlf Lacan was the analyst most awa re ofthis problem, by necessity he was also implicated by it. Juliet Flower MacCanne1l rigbtly warns us of "the tendency .. . to over-identify Lacan 's analysis o fthe culture orthe signifier ... with his own stance 011 that culture," noting that "just as the physician may be said to be apart from the disease s/he discovers, even if s/he has been constrained by it, Lacan 's analysis of the systems formed by the signifier, metaphor, the phaJlus, stand apart from his own 'system .' "I~ The paradox in reading Lacan derives rrom the play of playfulncss in his style- ror he as we1l as his most ardent supporters acknow 1cdge his partiality and biases, but none can decisively fix the level at which they operate. Even Jacqueline Rose admits: "There is, therefore, no qucstion of denying here that Lacan was implicated in the pha1l0centrism he described, just as his own utterance constantly rejoins the mastery which he sought to undermine."20 We need to acknowledge both how Lacan played upon and with his own pha1l0ccntrism, and how that pleasure has its costs in a dis course which cannot be reproduced . " In the psyche, there is nothing by which the subject may situate himselr as a male or fema1c being," asserts Lacan valiantly. 21 The very scntence is a marvelous example 01' what Lacan is talking about·- how language directs biology, subverting the sexual drive ¡nto an identificatory one precise1y by such maneu vers as interpellating the female reader as "he," "him ," and "man ." Yet insofar as we arc not newly enligh tcned sexist males of the 1930s coyly poio ting to the way in whkh o ur di scoursc places and dis places Ihe subject, how can fem inisl lheory stlpport a voca b ulury of ph al1ic signi r·icrs? Teriliía de LLU n:Li s right ly criti q ue:> Lacanian theo ry fOI" tlll': wuy in whidl ils desc riptivc f"ealurcs al l lOO (;;Jsily b\!Collle prescripl ivl!: "i n nppns ing the
1111111 \)/" IIIl' IIIKOII Sci\HI S In tlll" 11I1I ~i llll IIf an al ways aln:ady falsl: consci III1SIIl:SS, thl' general crilical J isCllLl rsc bascd on Lacanian psychoanal ysi::; sub SCI ibes 10(1 easily ... to Iha territorial dislinction between subjective and socia l Illodes ul' pwduction and the cold war that is its iss ue ." 22 More concemed with m isrecognition as sitcs for changc, ~ Laul'elis suggests we redirect atten lion lu l he dialectical relationsbjp between the means by which signs aTe produced a nd lhe codes themselves , so that we see meaning as a üultural pro duction ·' nol only susceptible of ideological transformation , but materia lly hasl:d in historical changc."21 Feminist theory has itself been callght up in the d o ublc bind o f the consli IlIlive gazc. Given the increasing centrali za tio n 01' a group prcvio usty defin cd by cxdusion frolll and oppression by the symbolic order, how is tha t gro up lO tcdcline itself witho ut destroying itself? Should it celebrate the scorned values with which it has been identified, abandon those values ror those ofthe ruling l'I ass, or chall enge the entire structurc by which it has been defined , re plaeing 11 \Vith a more inclusi ve sense of difference? As Ann Rosalind Jones reminds Wi. any celebration ofthe feminine is pro blema tic in that it assumes an essen tiaJ Il:lIlinine to be celebrated, so that " theories of réminité remain fi xa ted within I he l1letaphysical and psychoana lytic frameworks they a ttempt to dislodge." 24 luce lrigaray a nd Hélene Cixous wOllld have us reverse the nega tive value assigncd to woman, locating her specificity in multiteve1cd Iibidinalenergy, 111 a reminine unconscious shaped by femate bodily drives which make thei r \Vay in the style of feminist writings. 25 Yet M onique Wittig blames néofém IIlilé's universalizing tendencies ror making a fetish of the bar 01' difference, .¡ lId so keeping us locked in an oppositional gender structure. Wittig demand s IlIat we " dissoeiate 'women ' (the class within which we fight) and 'woman,' IlIl' l1lyth . For ' woman ' ... is only a n imaginary formation, while ' women' is 111l': product of a social relationship,"26 a group identity capablc of errecting I hange. Yet even Wittig's political theatre, li ke much political theatre, is accused ,,1 ' various si ns, among them denying a gaze that would disrupt its own. Can klllinism be associated \Vith action which effects change, assumes the image ,,1' woman and yel simultaneously disrupts any fixed image? The paradoxes ,JI K risteva \ system, from which feminism cannot seem to escape, are very IlIlICh a t issue. ( ',,"ld it be that feminism has (mis)appropriated the Lacanian gaze, orfer 1111' rl~adings oftraditional drama and film that are incapable ofinterrogating Ih,·ir Oedipal basis, and lhe Oedipal basis of the symbolic? Could it be that It' llIilliSIl1 and psychoanalysis ha ve been trapped by a constitutive gaze. by a p.\ . mJox 01' lhe frame and lhe gaze which binds change in repetition and Iql r~'ssion, iD Iheorics ol" I rompe /i"ti! and dvmple regarde , in mise en ahyl11e 11I1L'llI rcs wh ic h rin g hollow? CO ll ld il be thal there is a radical aspect of 1h~': 11 1 e, wh:. t we mighl rd el' Itl a ~ " lhe,, 1rieu lil y" o r " performance ," as opposed 1.. Iltll l al ive d 1'lIm:l , t hat íl'> ~ h ill .. ctcti I.cd hy a disru pli ve mtze t hat never rests ';l~ ~; 1 1 1 c')
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thealrc bOllnd to certain representationa l models which prevent revisioning its conslruction of the subject? Since film theory has long ago addressed the limits of the avant-garde exploitation of feminism, a rehearsal of its debates may prove useful here. The problem of a feminist refiguring of representation has been nicely stagcd in the interaction between Constance Penley and Peter Gidal on feminism and the avant-garde as framed by Stephen Heath . First Penley: "If filmic practice, Iikc the fetishistic ritual. is an inscription of the look on the body of the mother, we must now begin to consider the possibil ities and consequences oflhe mother returning the look." Gidal replies: "The last words 01' your piece say it all. Y ou search for the simple inversion, t he molher [ooking hack. 1 consider the possibilities of the not-mother, not-falher (Iooking or nol)." Heath joins Gidal: "To invert the mother returning the look , is nol radical1y to transform , is to return to the same economy (and cinema in the fiction film has always and exactly been concerned to consider the possibi1ities a nd consequences within the retishistic rit ua l, induuin g t he conslitulil'e th rcat o f i.ts e nd a ngerme nt, t he play of cye and Inok . visinn a mi lack): Ihe Jill crcncc invcrtcd is ¡¡I so lhe dilTe re nce rl1Uilllllim:u ,. ')
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Thc s lIhkxl in th is galllc 1,1 Iwo .lg,IIIISI olle is a uo ubling 01' il s conle nl pmblclII 01' wom an. Sil1l:c the l'inc ma tic look is read b y lhese male 1hcorists as COlIstil utcu hy a lhreat 01' the lack in woman (i.c., her castration ), she hall bctter no l loo k back, 110r, by impl ication , should Penley. GidaJ's il\lpul se is cinel11atic: he wants to d issolve, destroy images o f women. (Is il not l\Iore avanl-géu de simply to delete women from films rather than to present her response lo her reflection?) Penley's response is a looking back tha t looks rmward. H er impulse is theatrical - she wants to reverse the look. wrnch l'nlails a relhinking ofthe limits ofthe cinem a tic apparat us, in sofar as cinema posits the A bsen l One- the place o f the camera- in the place 01' the Othe r as rl'lurned gazc in theatre. Especially disturbing here is the argument that the c inematie look is con sliluted by a threat of its endangerment which is specifically associated with \\Iomen's castra tion- a move which indicates how t he Lacanian ga¿e has been rcread through Freudi a n castration schemas to figure difference in fil m thcory. I'he Freudian theory of castration explains how the human animal assumes It.~ sexua1ity in a given social order: in a deferred reading ofhis (first'?) sight of his llIother's gcnitalia , t he subject-as-1ittle-boy interprets her "Iack" in term s uf lhe lhreat of the fath cr' s punitive, castrating " no " made good. In other worus. he associates h is mother's " actual " castration with his pote ntial castra 1ion . That Lacan rereads this scenario symbolical1y does not, finally, save it I!lr reminist theory . It harms in that it keeps this sexist construction al ive and IlIaintains an association of the look with a negative view o f women and her 'cx ualily. The theory is made no more palatable by the argument that. insofar ;IS we are a1l1acking, woman is even more aware 01' her ineomplete status. In its stead we m ight consider the development of gender as identificatory IIld rooted in the prob1em 01' lhe gaze. Tite disruptive gaze would derive .'cl1 d¡;r from an interruption of the male 's primary feminism. developed in Ilh.: nlillcation with the female as mothering person oWhereas the !'emale sub I"L:\ resolves the mother's "no" by moving from heing the mother's desire to 1l11Í/iI/ing the mother's desire , the male in our society is not free to resol ve the Itl illernal " no " in this way. Given that the infant cannot always be what the 111111 her wants. nor the mother what the infant waJ](s. given that mothering IIIV!llvcs he lping the c hild come to trust in the return of a nurturing other \\Iho can leave and disap point. the development of a way of coping with the 1110 1hn's " n o " is es pecially pressing for lhe male. Deprived of the shift Ill ward m imelic desire len open to the female, the male's route can only be a 1 lI' id disidentiflcation, resulting in ambivalence toward the nurturing object. I'his stance has its precursors in feminist app1ications of object relations 11 1I:ury. l:ernin ist rsychoanalytic theory. in particular the work of Nancy I '1Iudor,)w, il1lt:rrrcts sorne m él lc bchavior as rcsulting from denied identi Ix lit .llioll wi lh Ihc n urtu ring 01 lTIot her ing figu re. O bject rela tions theo ry has IIII I!-' s up.gcSlcu IlIal t hc IIHll heri llg fll l1cliol1 is nN acc~')m nl is h eu by s im pl y t1I' IWIIl!.! Ilre l'lrild IlItn ;111 ill llSi lll 1 0 1' magiea l olllllipntc lll.;<; h uI in helping lhe 11 11:
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child awcpl Sc.pa ralcness .JnJ disill usÜ.' n lh ru ug.h V;II ill LlS ' 110 " . " 1" The. dis ruptive maternal gaze is a ga.le wh ich rollcel::; back lo ¡hc child sOl11clhi ng other than what it wants to see, but wh kh alone m akes ídentity possible. This in turn suggesls an interesting re versa!; the greater rep ression is not 01' the mother's castration (what the ehild doesn't want to see), b ut of the subject's loss 01' fa ce (what the moth e r doesn 't wan l lo see or can't see in the child). The readin g which denies this arg ucs tha! the fa ther's interve nt ion (and not t he mother's " no ") alone ensures the masculinity tha t fh e subject desi red a ll along. The repression 01' the mother's cruó a l role in the sociali zati on process is denied. A more theatrical pa ra digm would ena ble women no t o nly to re nect how they perceive they have been perceived, b ut to look back ami forward , to see how their look.in g back is interpreted a nd dísrupted by another gaze in a continuing theatre 01' interactive reftections. Lacanian theory has decisivel y and intentionally Iimited the poten ti al ol' the mother's " no " in él variety 01' ways , then , and cinematic theory's use of tbe gaze has in tum been reduced to not bi ng short of mal e castratioll anxiety. However successf ul the applicél ti on of él phallocentrk theory fo r a reading of phallocentTic ftl ms, such a model stymies the deveJopment offilm theory and practice in Ilew directions, result ing in such peculiar avant-garde stances as Gidal's refusal to portra y women in his films sin ce she is always already the castrated fetish ized object. The difleren ce inl'erted ¡s nol a/way s lhe ddJerence main/(/ined. To reframe H ea th and Gidal vi a Penley is to point to her place a ncl the mother's place both within and outside the system , and to observe that neither can be so neatly circumscribed. Sin ce neither Heath nor Gidal proves capable 01' con sidering the " possibilities and consequences" ofthe mother returning the look, except as a reversal 01' the terms 01' the male look, whieh in itself is castrating, they project tha t threat onto Penlcy. Asks I-Ieath: "What then of the look for the woman, of woman subjects in seeing? The reply given by psychoanalysis is from the phall us. If the woman looks, the speetacle provokes, castration is in the air, the Medusa's head is not far off; thu s, she must not look , is absorbed he rself on the side 01' the seen, seeing herself seeing herself, Lacan's femininit y." .1O If Heath \vould distance himself here, his framing of P enley implies that castration is indeed in the air- that malc fears 01' a reversal 01' their own system are being projected onto a rethinking of representa ti on which begins on the oth e r side 01' the sereen. The diflerence i/1l'erted is 1101 alway s lhe ddleren ce maintained. The reply given by psychoanalysis is not always from the phallus. Penley asks about the possibílities of retu rning the look beca use sh e real izes that n o reversal 01' the loo k in the same terms is possible- except when the Woman as a con slruct 01' lhe ma le Imaginary is doing t he looki ng, in which case sh e does not look fro m lhe point 01' víew 01' women. Since Penley, fol1owing LéJ U1',1 M ulwy, i-: criliq uing film pracl ice a:; voycLl riSlic é1nd fe lish i:;ti.:. her qllcsl ion il sks r\Jr lite tl~velop IllL'n l 0 1' ncw ways 0'- Ilw kin ~ in e.sscnl,;i.! I he rccn!l sl l lh'llO Jl "r I III.! W OIl1 U !l'~
'; I /l' , T lt l'lIl oll \(~r's hmJy is nol i'lllI lpl y a d luractcr in a IiIm I'ctu ming a loo k, hui allHlcl! Ihe ma lcrial (HII 0 1 Wllld l a spcclac1c is co nSlructcd, th e spectacle II ~d r ;llId Ihl: IIlean<; hy wh ieh a spccl<J to r is conslructcd. To rcturn lhe look 111 Ihi ~ ~Olllcxt is to bréa k up Ix:rrormancc space, deconstruct the gaze, s ub \\.' 11 I he dassical organiza li on 01' showing and seeing, revision spectato rshi p, ,I ud Ic:-. trllclure lradilional ca nons, genres, an d pe rson al-political identitie:;. ()Ili.! ¡¡rg ulllen l that sta lis this movement is summarizcd by Ste phen H eath when he asks whelhcr it is " possible for a woman to tak e p lace in a fi lm wilholll representing a malc desire," since "a ny im age o f a woma n in a fil m, b\ Ihe ract 01' its en gagement in a proücss of representati on , .. inevitabl y re ,lId l)ses womcn in a strllcture 01' cultural oppression tha t fllnctions preci sely Ity Ihe cu rrency of ' images 0 1' woman .' ", 1 He q uotes C ixo us, who observed: I lile is always in representatio n, anu when a woman is asked to take place ill Ihis represcntation , she ¡s, ofcourse, asked to represent man 's uesire. " Yet I kath ignores the key word "askecl"; when women are not asked by me ll to I.1I..e place in a representation created by a nd for men o b ut occupy and share Illl' sitcs 01' production and consumption, a d ifl'erent econo my obtains. W omen 1,I h' place, and refigure lha t taking place, in ways that challenge traditional 1, '11lIS 01" represenlation ami gratify , as they displace, th e spectatorial gaze. I'l:nley cites Ihe films of Yvonne R ainer, C hantal Ackerman , a nd M a r 'fll'l ilc Duras, which " r un counter to the Oedipal structuring 01' Western 1"" ralive l"orm anu the imaginary and fetishistic imperatives orthe cinematic .I ppa ralus," cffecting changes in " narrative organ izatíon , point 01' view and I
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\ he impetus is clear: the attempt to place woman somewhere else, 'Hllside the forms 01' representation through which she is endlessly 1'(lIlSliluted as image. The probl"em is that this sets up notíons 01' drive, IlI ylhlllic pulsing, eroticisati on 01' energy pre-representa tion , a space ,I! " \l jJen viewing," which then makes film process itself socially ;lIId scx lI a lly innocen t. F ilm process is then conccived as something ,If'l' haie. ti los l ur rcprcsscJ can ten t ("continent"), te rms to which the lL'lI lin illc cun so clIsily be assimil utcd . as it has been in c1assical fo rms u l di sl'( lU J")il! o n Ihe Il!rll in ine
~ pct:i lk:, ou lsidc. I he dllllgers lile obviolls Tha l :;lIdl ,,"'.IIIIII!IIIS ovc rl ook tlle a n.: hait: con nol u l in ns of 1ht:sc n ol illl1 S uf cm:rgy allll rh ythm ror wom en , al t he sa me timc t ha l Illey re nder in nnec nL 1h(; o bjects and pr ocesses of rcprese nta lion whic h t hcy introjccl o nto Ihe 11 scrcen, seems again to be not by ehance.
In a cri tique of Lyotard 's e xploTatio n 01" a non thcalri'.:a l rep resenra tionaJ space , R ose pointedly remarks: "Wc have to ask what, ir the o bject itsel r is rem oved (the body or victi m ). is o r c()u ld be such él !>p acc of o pen viewin g (fetishisation of the look itself or of its panic a ntl conrusion)? A no wha t does this do for fem inism? Other th a n strietly no t hing, d ropping all images 01' wo men; or el se a n archaisin g of th e fe m ini nc as pan ic an d 00 n fus ion , wh ich is equa11 y problema tic, simply a re-introjection as feminine- t he pre-mirror gi rl - or the visual di sturbance against whieh the image of woman dassically acts as a guarantee. " 34 It would seem that theatre, via pe rfo mlance, is facing many of the same p roblems .
" 1I1I11II:llly c\dlls ive.:" " wlll!1\ il l. "II IC:' lo lhe.: pwhkm ot" l hl' subjecl," since " in l'o nl l asl lo perlün llaIlC":, I heall'l.' ca ll1Hll kccp frolll sctl in g up, stating, con slllu.:li ng po illlS ol" vicw" all d d c.:pcnd s un a unified subjecl which performance dCl"ullst rtlcls in lo d ';ves (llId cncrgies, since theatrc assumes ano de pends on lhe narralivity ll nd Illodels of representatio n which performance rejects in fa vo r 01' di::;continuity and spillage. 41 IJ pe rformance highlights the " rea lities of lh e imaginary," " originates within t he su bject an d allows his flow of des ire lo spcak ," lhe theatrical " inscribes t he s ubjec t in the law and in theatrical l"odcs, which is to say, in the symbolic. "42 Yct fjnall y Féral i!) d escribing a d ialectic essenti a l to theal re, not a part from il. which she hcrsclf ackno wledges by argui ng that " thea tri cality arises from Ihe play belween these two realities," and by describin g pcrfonn allce as that within theatre which deconstructs it. 43 Féral obse rves t hat " in its stripped dllwn work in gs , its exploration 01' the body, and its joining of time and space, plTform a nce gives us a kind of theatricality i.n slow motion , the k ind we find al work in toda y's theatre. Pe rformance explores the under-side of that Illea tre. ,,44
Is it a coincidence that defi nitions of feminis m, theatre , Lacania n psycho a na lys is, a nd deconstr uction are beco ming prac tically indistingu ishable? All define them selves as d isplacing activities designed to resist the s uturing cohcr ence 01" any fixed place. JlIli<J Kri steva argues that " th e very dich o tomy man/ wo man as (In oppositioll between two rival cntities may be unoerstood as belongi ng lo metap hysics,,35 and offers instead él pulsion between the semiotic (prc-oedipal, prclinguistic energy and desire) and the symbolic (made pos si ble by the sc m iotic which in turn is repressed for its establishment). To work fro m l he scm ioli c is to to adopt " a negative funct io n; reject everything finite . u di ni lc, structured , loaded with meaning, in the existing state of society. " It is to work " on the side 01' the explosion of social codes, with revolutionary lllovcments .":;6 Like Kristeva, Shoshana felman d efi nes femininit y as a " real othcrness .. . [which] is uncanny in that it is not the opposite of ma sculinity but lhat which subvcrts the very opposition of masculinity and fcmininity. "37 A vant-garde feminism's answer, then , is that woma n , 1ike theatre , does nol take (a) place (K riste va) , but rather, rev isions positio na lity itself. 38 In what sensc d oes a feminism so defined differ from deco nstructi o n? Or from theatre, which manages both to acknowledge the symbolic and disrupt it fmm wit h in, to acknowledge and subvert positiona1ity on a continuo LIS basis? Josette Féral , o nc o f the few theoreticians to explore feminist deconstruct ive theatre, assumes bo tll are possible- bu l on ly w hen theatre is no t tbeatTe per se.39 Fo r Féral, thealTe is on the side o f inscrip lion in lhe symbolic, w hereas pe rfo rm ance is on t he siJe of decon str ucti o n in ¡he semiolic (thus Féral's " lheatre" correspon ds lo EIH l11 '~ "drama ," amI her " pe rform ance" corrcspond.s lo EI¡lm's " lhcalre").,11l r-éra1. find s Ihca l n.! and \Wrl"lln11a nct:
The relations hip between performance art and traditional theatre is less él polar opposition than a continuum. We see k in theatre that moment when ,'m looking is no lo nger a loo k ing (as in film), but a bein g seen , a retu rn of t he look by Ihe mirror image which denies th e proeess . Whereas trad iti ona l drama achieves this by setling into motion a series 01" di splacing gazes which ·;IIl.:cccds when it disrupts o ur own gaze without showing us ho w , perform ;IIICC art puts theatrical co ns lruction itself o nst<Jge. 1n SW(1Il Lake, M i lll1e.l'o la ;1 sI ripper pcrfo rm s to a fascinated crowd of mcn by throwing down can.lboard ,'lItoutS of her bo dy in vario LIS states of undress; the las t cutoul is a mirro r which rcftects thcir gaze. In the performance piece WaitinK. t he author holds 11]1 sllccts upon which arc projected images ofwaitresses. and then inserts her h"dy and voice in filmed images and narratives of resta urant life, simultane "lIsly positioning herself as author, actor , screcn , and the so urce 01' lheir IlIlItllal confus io n and deconstruction . I .ike much theatre theory and practice, Féral's thcsis is itself symptomatic ,,1' Ihe batt1e within theatre to differentiate presence fr o m representati o n, "'llIinding LI S that insofar as theatrc stages presence it enacts the agon between Ill' llIg and representation implied in the eoncepl of enactment, and so gives 1'lIlh lo itsdf by continually reposin g that relationship. Féral highli ghts thi s t.ll·1 hy lIsing " theatricality" to designate a class which e nco mpasses both II H'1I 1ricalily and performance. and by this doubling rightl y tags theatre as a '-.1 líI Ilge or Tang1ed Loop. C riticized for assuming that perfo rmance rcaches a pll'SCIlCC oUlsidc of representali o n , shc in ract merel y observes that " perform " In; ~CC Il1S lo be atlem p lin g lo rcveal and to stage something that too k place 11I'1"n' 11It: re prc~cll la t i () n ~) r lhc subjccl evcn ir it does so b y us ing an already i. 1111\1 illl lcd sub jcct . ",1,> Tlt i.:. i~ IHll, linally, a l odds with. bUI rather a n o pposing IIP pll Hll h 1(1 , J)errid a 's ti rgllllwlIl ' hal : " Prcscnéc , in urder lO be presence and
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sel f- presencc, Ims al ways alrcauy bcgulI lo rCprCsí:1I 1 ilsl.:! l, h.l ~ .lI way.. al rcau y been penctrated."~(¡ T hus the paradox 01' avan l-gu nk tIJcJ lrc. in seí:~ i ng to stage a moment outside o f represe ntation one ca n not cvauc the play 01' gazes that constitutes represcnla lion . Following D errida . H erb Blau reminds us that theatre reveals " noJir.l'l time , no origin , but only rec urrence a nd reproduc tion.,,47 Trad it ional mime has long exposed tbeatre as a machine 01' D ifTerence which enacts the cod ing ano decod ing of the body , the place and displacement of presence , the construc tion and deconstruction of the gaze, the carving up and branding of presence (thus the ease wi th which tatoo art and various fo rms of bodily mut ilati o n make their way into performance art). Theatre has a lways suggestcd a funholl se of mirrors we never escape, a preccssion of simulacra which remind us we can never reach a body outside of representation. O bserves Baudrillard, "simula tion is no longer that of a territory , a refe rent ial bei ng or a substance. It is lhc generation by models of a real without origin or reality: a hyperreal. " 48 Thea tre doesn ' t hold the mirror up to nature. but is the quintessenti al simulation of simulations, a hypcrreality. Héléne Cixous offers, inadvertently, o ne of the best definitions of theatre: " men and women are caught up in a network ofmil1enial cultural dctermina tions of a compl c.l\ity that is practical1y una nalyzable : we can no more tal k about 'women' than about ' man ' without ge lting caught up in an ideological theatre where the multiplication of representations, images , reReetions, myths, identifications constantly transforms. deforms, alters each person 's imagin ary order and in advance , renders all conceptllalization null and void."49 Peggy Kamuf's " a woman writing like a woman writing like a woman,,50 is quintessentiaUy theatricaL feminist, and deconstructive at once. The performative side 01' theatre emerges here as a process of staging the disturbance and reversal 01' the gaze. Theatre is by definition not amenable to narrativos imported to contain its bent toward subversion. Tho multiple stages and plots of Renaissance and postm odern theatre alike better convey its fundion as a philosophical model , insofar as simultaneity of space amI action is best suited to its ability lO intc rrupt and stagc itself. Observes Maria M inich Brewer: "Theatre allo\Vs a philosophical discourse to shift from thought as secing and originating in the subject alone, to the many decentere<.l proccsscs ol" framin g and staging that representation req uires but dissimul ates.,, 51Thcatre provides a theoretical model for postmodernism insofar as it is always setting into play the subversion of its insights. A theatrical model is thus ideally suited to the project of decentering and su bverting fields of representation tha t face postmodern theory. T hi s expl ain s why thcatre is the source 110t only 01' m uch of the voeabulary 01' poslm odern theory (fra ming, Slaging, miseen scene. rchearsal anu repelition, ree nactment). but also of many 01' its key st ra tegies. ¡\ refusal 01' tIJe ()hs~ rvcr· ., stablc positio n, a fascin ation wit h rc-presen ling prest::nu:.
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,Iml yo l al lhe samc lime scc Iww (\ lIl' \ lo ok is always al rcady p urlo ined - lllc.',c arl' lhe hcndits ol"th ca lrc f\)r lhcory. W lly is il tha t thcatre alono has always staged identity as unstable, ex pos illg gcndcr and c1ass as a masquerade? Why is it th at theatre- so associa ted with sclr-rellcxivity as to become a l11eans ofdescribing it- ma nagcs to avoid the en ahyme structure, evade its own c1osure, a nd refuse its own fra mes? { 'ould it be that, inso far as theatre cannot rest in the ahyme, but stages the displacing ga ze. lhe bursting of the container by its contents, theatre o ffers a \Vay of dislodging the current eritical standstill \Vhereby we must use language lo describe a place outside it'! The qllestio n of whether theatre can stage through representation a pres l:I1CC prior to it must be answered through the gaze, which is no less th an a lliscovery ofthe splitting 01' subjectivity in its procu ring. Thc gaze is a discov l'ry that (lne is secn - that one' s look is always already purloined by the Other. " It is not true that , when 1 am under tho gaze, when I solicit a gaze, wlten I obtain it, I do not see it as a gaze .... Painters, above all , have grasped 1Itis gaze in the mask . .. . The gaze 1 encounter . . . is not a seen gaze. but a gazc imagined by me in the fleld of the Other" writes Lacan .52 Theatre's disrupting gaze reOeets any look as already taken; it stages presenee as always already represented. and trapped by another's look . Like lhe shicld he Id up lo view Medusa , thcatre ofi'ers a perspective glass by mean s of which we see the objeet of our gaze as always already reflected. Whether in Sophocles' Oedipus or Duras's india Song, whether throllgh the displaeing gaze of the Medusoid Sph inx or the displaced or out 01' synch voiees 01' staged characters in avant-garde feminist drama, theatre is always slaging the desire to own the purloined place of one's look . Theatre tclls the slllry 01' a rape whieh has always already occurred, thereby involving us in a series of gazes which splits and displaces our own. Whereas film is obsessed \Vith seeing one 's look. as in Hitchcock films which repeatedly distend and IK'cr within the space oftheir own voyeurism, theatre is fascinated by the return ,,1" one's look as a displacing gaze that redefines as it undermines identity . I'ltcatre ealls the spectatoria l gazc into play by exhibiting a Pllrloined gaze, a p.U I.C that announccs it has always been presented to our cyes; is designed only lo he taken up by them. The speetatorial gaze takes the bait and stakes its 'laim to a resting place in the ficld 01' vision which beckons it- only to have 11'> gaze fractured , its look stared down by él series of gazes which challenge I Itc place of ib look and cxposc it as in turn detined by the other. The lar va/us "rodeo. or l11a ~k which points to itsclL is the lure oftheatre, a gaze which admits 1I hclongs to lhe Ot hcr, only to become the Other of the spectator in turno 11 c inema appcals lo the ucsirc lO see oneself seeing, lheatre appeals to lhe d ~, ... ire I I I ex pose anu d ispltH':C lhe displaced gaze- tha t is, to enta ngle the "1I1í: r',, ga/u wilh \lné'~ alwa ys a lrcau y pu rl oi ncú image, to rcveal the play 01' IIl le'o¡ louk as illcvltu hl y_ inCl.·"'j;ln lly in lllol iol1 d ispla\Xd and di splaeing in 1111 11. 'lile sI, Ipl~¡¡ ... c i ~ q 1I 1t ¡lcs"l' lll ia I Ihe; II ",:. il s sIügc t he tlll l tic () f 1he place 01' ,¡
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m c'~ 1 \1~1" . Willl IH: s lri pp~1 mai lllalll I he pl,u;!.: u l lll, 1,1,," ' , .dIVII )''' alrcad y rurllli ned , so as tu preserve lhe kl1lal<: ~ r>cc tal ()r\ 1110" 111 \VI II he loo" bac" in a way th at d isplal:cs hcr g U/c? T hcatrc's mask s <11 111\) 11 111:1: that lhe "' " is al ways al reauy another; its characters assure li t> 01' their displaccment, announcing, '" am already taken ," as in "this seat is takl;n," or as in, "That was no lady, that was my wife (mother). " Theatrc is the pl ace wherc a male ruling class has been a ble to play at being the excJudcd other, to rcveaJ the sense that ''1'' is an olher. Ir theatre has o tTered men a chance to identify wil h the place of a mother':; loo k, to im ilate the mother's tlesire, and to control the woman 's looking back, theatre also offers the opportunity 10 reframe that moment from a point 01' view alien to it. The paradox of the frame and the gaze. the problem of the conslilu tive gaze in relationship to key problems of change, needs to be worked out more fulty both witb.in the discourses of feminism, psychoana lysis, and theatre theory, and in the arguments with which they are in volved . Feminism faces this problem in the Kristevan paradox of the scmiotic and the symbolic; psychoanalysis faces this problem in the rclationship of the Imaginar)' and the Symbolic; but theatre al one is capable of staging the paradox of the fra me in a way that subverts it. Unlike feminism and psychoanalysis, theatre has no altegiance but to ambi valence, to a compulsion to subvert its own gaze, to split itself through a reflected image. Theatrc comfortably allies with feminism again st psychoanalysis, witb psychoanaJysis against cinema, a nd with cinem a against itsclf, without ever fi nding a resting point except as provisional and always already undcrmineu.. Whereas feminism and psychoanalysis seek to reflect the subject from a place where it can never see itself, be.it gender, ideology, or the unconscious, theatre pro vides the tools- the stages, the mirrors, or refleeting gazes--through which perspectives are fra gmented , shattcrcd, and set into play against one another. A methodology necessarily tied to no master, theatre is quintessenti alt)' deconstructive, and poses a mcthodologica 1 chalJenge to feminism and psychoanalysis to escape its terms , its goals, its identity. We dose here with an open q uestion, one posed at the end 01' Laca n's seminar, "The Spli t Between the Eye and the Gaze." "To what extent," v n()w! Wh al a race yo u're ma king!: o r, T he top bulto n or y(lUr waislco
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"P\' lI llI llltl:l. Tite IlIel l: jlIC'ol' IU": .. t tll,' ;lII alyst scls IIp the ga/e; tite p~ll ien t ~JI ~IWS she is heil1¡.t héanJ alld w'll\:héd. ami so hcars and walches hcrscl dll lcn:ntly; the 'iéCOlld mi rmr is in pla y, lIli rrori ng the fi rsl , displacing and placing hody, voice, ami gul.c. The associat.i ons , have drawll here suggest that th eatre opens up a con "t met ive palh f'or psychoanalytic tbeory and feminist theory to fo llow- if II ll'y arc willing lo f'ully accept lhe implications oftheir Qwn displacin g gazcs. We IIced , lhal is, to reread Lacan against himself. to accept how femin ism's .'iII.e has been purloined , to interroga te the political implications 01' psycho oIl1alysis. Theatrical readin g is ambivalent read ing, ded icated nol to varying Ih\.' look (which simply amounts to critical pluralism) but to disrupting it, lllp)stagjng theories th rough one another. It req lIires that psych oanalysis Icad cinema and theatrc read psychoanalysis.
Notes "in' I I ('lId's 1'111' I ~'g() I//lr! II/(' Id '/'(¡, . ,\' /(//lc!ar(/ Edilillll III' Ihe Complete P.\y c/¡olo :1/'111 J/'/JII,.\ ' ~I 'li~III I/l 1I 1 Vo l. 11). tra lls . .I~lIl1CS Sl rachcy (London: I-Iogarth
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plltlislllllC lI 1 perso na l 111 hClsd l alld h;¡s rl!a li /cll ll1al 1IJI' ,C III.tI . 111I111c1 c l is ;1 1Illl vc rs;d 0 111; , sltc hqd n~ slla rc ,h l: I'llrllCmp l ti.. 11 hy 11 1\ ' 11 1"1 , 1 i,. '~ Wllld l is lit\' l e~se r irr so import an t a respect, alld , at k:ast in Iw ldi ng tllal ('pilllnrr , irrsisls (111 bci ng like aman" (253). 2 Lal'an , "Agency 01' lhe !eller il! the uncollscious:' terils, trans o Alan Sheridan (New York: No rt OIl , 1977), 152. 3 Jacq ~eli ne Rose, " ln troduction- II," in Feminine Sexualily: Jaeques L (/c(1/1 (//1(1 Ih e E cole Freudienlle, ed. Juli et M itchell an d Jacqueline R ose, lra nS. J acqueline Ro se (Ne w York: N orlon, 1985),29 . 4 Rose, "Inlroduction," 28. 5 See Laura M ul vey, o'Visual Plca su re a nd N arrati vc C inema ," Screen 16, IW. 3 (1975) : 6- 18; Kaja Silve rrnan , The Suhjecl (~/ Sentioli!:s (O xford: Ox ford Un iver sil y Press, 1983): E. A nn Kaplan . Women 0/'1(1 Film : BOIh Sides o/lIJe Cam era (Ne\\' York: Methuen , 1983); Teresa de La llretis, Aliee Doesl1'l: Ferninisl11, S emiolic.\. Cinema (Bloomington: Indiana U n iversj¡y Press, 1984); and Jacqueline Rose, SexualiL v and Ihe Field of" Vision (London: Verso, 1986). 6 Jan e G~lIop, The J)au,ghter's Sec!If(:lion, Femini.l'IF/ O/;d Psychoona/vsis (Ithaca: Co rnell U njvers it y Press, 1982) , 93. 7 R oland Barthes, R olwul Ba r/hes b.Jl R ola/1(1 Borlhes, transo Rich ard Howard (Lo n don: Macmillan , 1977) , 69. 177. 8 Julia Kri~teva, "Modern T heater Does Not Take (a) P lace," tran so Ali ce Jardin e
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)i r csh 19115l: arrd Il é k l1d '1\\)(1 ', I he I a rr ¡:1r ,,1 , he McU rrsa ." trans oKcilh ('O 11\:n an d /'alll" (" \he n, in NC lI l il 'lId, /o4l11ill i.I'III.I', IXI. J: lllirre Mark s ami b a belle de 'ollrlivron (A rnhc rsl : U lll wrs lty or Ma ssadwsc tts Press. 1980), 245-(,4. .!(, M on iqul' Witl ig, "Onc Is Not Bom a W oman ," Feminis f /ssu e,l' 1, no. 2 (1981): .'iO 51. 27 COlls ta ncc Pcnlcy 's I.:omme nt and Peter G idal"s reaetíOI1 are taken fr0111 Stephen lleath \ essay, " D ifference," Screen 19 (1978): 97; Heath's comment is from t he samc essay, 97 ·98. 2~ Nancy C hodo row, '[he Reprodu('(ion o/ l'vfolhering: Psychounalysis !l11!! the SOC'Ío logy o( Gender (l3c rkc!ey: U nivc rsi lY oCC a lifo rni a Press, 1978). 21) See the survcy b y Jay R. Green be rg amI Steph en, A. M itcheH . Objecl R elaliOI/S in PsycllOal1!/lyfic Theory . (C a mbrid ge: Harvard Uni vers il y Press, 1983), as well as th e work of M a rga ret M a h ler. On Iluman S'ymbiosis and lite Vicissiludes o/ /ndi llidualiol1 (London: Hoga rth Press , 1969) a nd D. W . Wi nn icott , Play ing and R ealily ( Lond o n: Ta vistock. 197 1). .10 Heath , " Di ffe rence," Screen 19 (1978): 92. 11 Ibid. , 96-- 97. .12 Constance Pen ley, ,o ' A Ce rta.in Refusal of DitTerence': Feminis m aod Fi.lm Theory," in A,., afier Morlernism: Re lhinking R epreSel1 1l11 ion , cd . Brian W allis (Ncw Y ork : New M use um 01' Co ntemporary Art, 1984), 387. .1 ) Jacqueline R ose, Sexualily und Ihe Field o/ Vision ( London: Verso, 1986),209. 14 Rose , Sexl/(/lity (/l1d Ihe Fie/d o/ Vision , 210. \5 Julia K risteva, "Wo men's Ti me," transo A lice Jardine and Ilor ry Blak c, Siglls 7 (1981): 33 . .\ú Julia Krísteva , " Inte rview with Xavierc Gautlricr, Tel Quel 58 (1974), 98- 102: reprínted in N elt· hench Feminisms, ed. Elainc Marks a nd Isabelle d e Cou rtiv ro n (Amherst: Univcrsity o f M assach usetts Press, 1980), 166. n Shoshana F elma n, "Rereadin g Femininity," Yale Frel/ell Swdies 62 (1981): 4 2, \8 See K ri sleva's "Modern Theater Does Not Take (a) Place," as wel! as her inter view with Gauthier, noted a bo ye, where she identifies " the Illomcnt of rupl ure a rrd negatl vi ty which cond iti o ns and underlies lhe novelty 01' any praxis 'femini ne, '" and adds: " No ' l ' is th ere to assume thi s 'fcmillill ity,' but it is 110 Iess ope ral ive, rejecting al! that is fin ite a nd assuring in (sexual) pleasure the life of the concept " ( 167). \9 Josette Féral, " Perfo rmance and Theatricality," tra nso Terese Lyons. j\1odern Dramu 25 (1982): 170- 84 . ·10 See Keir Elam, T/¡e Sel1'liolics ojT/¡e(jll'e (Inri f)rama ( Lo nd o n: M ethuen . 1980),2. 11 Féral , " Perfo rm ance and Theat rica lity," 177 ··78. ·12 Ibid. , 178. ·13 Ibid ., 178. ,14 Ibid" 176. ·I.'i Ibid. , 178. ,1(, Jacqu~s Derrida , "The Thealer or Cruclty a nd tbe C los ure 01' R cprcserrtat io n," Wriling and f) ifJáe!1c(,. transo Alan Bass (Chicago: Unive rsit y of Chicago Press, 1(78).249. 1I Ilerbert Blau, "U niversals of Perfomlance: or, Am o rtiz ing Play," Sub-Sl!Il1c e 37- 38( 1 9~ 3 ): 148. ·IX Jean Baudrilla rd , " The Preccss ion 01' Sirnul acra," in Arl Ajiet ModemislI1 , ed. Brian W ' lllis (N ew York: New M useulTl ofCo ntempo rary Art, 1(84),253, 1'1 11éh:: lIe Ci;w u;;. "SlJrties." in N('l\' f¡' f lle/¡ Feminislns, 96. ~() Pcggy Karnllf. "W ril illg li ke a W oman. " in Women and Lal/J;uage in Lilera fllre artd ......(!('ú'lr. cd . S . M l,Co rl llell-(ji nct el al. (N ew York: Pracgcr. 1980).298.
1'\
It 11 1' /l ES HN I \ I 11.1N 5 1 Mil nu M iniel! Iln.:wct, '· "cl lul ltl illl' III1.!tlry ," 1'1'1'1 /11',' '/,,1 /1/1/1 1 i¡ (l'IX '1) : 11>, 52 .IucqUi.'S tacan , " I\IWI1l\ll'flho sis," r /¡ I: ¡'¡I/II' F IIII¡{i/l lII'l/ / rd ( Ú /lfI'JI /S ¡',H 'C'!IO Ana!y.I';,\', t ran so I\lall Shcridan ( Nl'w Y\Jrk: N NhlJ1 , I()XI), X4, 53 X, A udoua rd. "Q uestions ami A nswcrs," foll o wi ng Lac;¡n 's " Ihe Split Betwec n th e Eye and the Gaze," in Foul' FU/ldalllen/a! CO/lcep/s. 77, 54 Freud, " A n Au to biog raphical Study," tran so James Strachey (New Yo rk : Norto n.
T HE DY NAM I C S OF DE SI RE
1952), 47 , 55 Lacan . " Tbe Split Betwee n the E ye and the Gaze," 78. 56 Muriel Rukeyse r, " Myth ," in 7he Collected Poems (New York: McG ra w- H ilL 1978), 498,
Sexuality and gender in pornography and performance
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24
Jill Dolan
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foclIS 01' eontemporary fem inist eritieism is on the rela tionship between systclll 01' representation and issues o f gender and sexual ity. F eminist critics .11 ~ lIe tha t the nature 01' representation is altered by the gender of perfo rmers .llId speetators, as \Vell as by their sexual preference. Both gender and sexuality , ,, II lg the dynamic of desire into play, in ro rming the narrative's structure, the 1 1'11 ,dllction 's "look," and the relationship between spectator and spectacJe. Thc role sexuality plays in performance and in the visual representation o f WI'!lll~11 as sexual subjects 01' objects is an issue intenseJy debated wit hin lhe Il'lIlinist critical community. This issue has prompted the creation of two I'p posing positions on the function of pornography within the culture. These (lllsilions arc rcprcsented by lesbians \Vho support the cultural production of ,1'\ 11;11 fantasies- for some groups, often in the form of Iesbian sadomaso 11 11:-;1ic rituals and pornograph y- a nd anti-pornography feminists who a rgue Inl kgislation against porn ographic images of womcn , contending that i1\1 1 111 1graphy etTuses sexual violence against wOlllen in the society-at-large ,2 I hel e is a third , com plex position that Illay encompass stanees aga inst censor 111)1 011 thc one hand , and yet not subscribe lo s/m practiees 011 the other. But 1111 Ih..: purp oses o r this artiele, that position will remain on the margins , since iI dlles !lot roclIs so much 011 notions a boLlt representation as on those of I l v ll I ights . I his artide will briel1 y revie w' the opposing positions in the pornography Il!'hll l\;. appl yi ng thcir pri ncipies to various forms of performance and the ~ 1 '~ lI a l n: rn.:scntalion of'wOf11 cn ' s scxua lity . From performance art and erotica, 1I1I 11I1), h k:s hia 11 pe lf orma nce 11 ne! IcsniHn porn ogTllph)', a range of materials \' di r11u:
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Lac.k O" iIIu:r.ions: thc anli-pornognll.hy debute.' and cultural reminisl performance T he m odel anti-porllography law drafted by Andrca Dwork in a nd Ca lherine M acK innon defines pom ography as " the graphic sexua ll y explieit subord ination of women through picturcs and/or worus. . .. '" T he law goes on lo enumerate the various conditions und er whicb the representalion of women is considered pornographic, focusing on sex ual objectifica tion as the p li m ary delemlining factor. lo aD accompan ying statemenL Dworkín c1a rifies the iss ue of subord ination in term s of an imbaJance of po wer: S ubo rdination is a social-po Jitical dy na mic consisting 01' several parts. The first is that there is a hierarchy. T here's somehody o n the top al1d somebody 011 the bottom . . . The second .. . is objectification. The third ... is submission ... the fourth is violence.4 ror Dworkin , the insertion of power into social ~p olitical and sexual situ ations automatical1y establishcs a hierarchy that leads to violence agains t women . Feminists who embrace this position as an arg umen t against pom o graphy are often al1ied theoretically and pol itical1y wi th the movement caJled "cultural feminism ." Cultural feminists tend lo valorize what they see as innate, biological1y based di rrere nces between men and women . W omen as the " life source," for examp1e, and men as destructive warmongers are distinctio ns commonly drawn by cultural feminists . Sínce the feminist antí-pom campai gn is based on an analysis that sees male sexua lity as in herently aggressive a mI violent, the cultural femjnist stance is sympathctic to the anti-pornography position.; Because male sexuality is problem atic \Vithín the stereotyped , polarized version ofthe sex/gender system that distingui shes this analysis, much cultura l feminist performance art attempts to evade the issue of sexuality and desíre by privileging spirituality. If power adheres in sexuality , and cultural fem inists assume power leads to violence against women , it becomes politica1Jy and artistica1Jy necessary to attempt to disengage representation from desire. This de-sexualizing is partieularly impo rtant to heterosexual cultural fcmi nist performance arti sts, wh o view the disarming of dcsire as one ofthe flrst steps toward the " femini zatio n" of the maleo 1n cultural fem in ist performance art. then , the body is idealized as a. spiritual vessel, and sex ua lity l s reduced lO re productivity, often symbolized by wOl11en ' s contex tual ization in na tu re. Performance artists like Leslie Labowi tz and Hanna h W il ke ma in tain this personal , spiritual, biologistic approa ch to politics anu re presenta tions 01' the body. O pting no! l o examine differences a mong WO Inl'll based on racc, c1as:i, a mI sex ual prefe rence Ih rough po litica l ana lys is, [hey flrnpo~e un il'ying, essent ial femalc co n ncclions lha l wiJ1 u nÍle a ll PCOp ll' ii! 'lp iril ll;11 pClICC . In S"ro ll tim.' ( 11)XO), tú r \!xamp lc, lahowil7 invi les SpCV lilh 'I '¡ 11 1111 ti l' ll'cllh u lJSC
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~;l'ttin g. WI1 (;I\' shc is " muJc ;t 11l! ¡,{,ftl y lil ," wa lering her sp rollls . l'crl'ornló IlIL\' ;lrl hi!>ll)r ian Moira RO lh . w ho ~ll1l(l o nc1i the n: trcLlt inl n nalure and spiri l lI al ¡t y. sa ys, Certainly she is expressing 1101 only her OWll nced. bu l one increasingly sharcd by olhers, both men and women. fo r psych ic and spiritual no urish ment in such a painful moment in l1islory.(' rceding the spirit, however, disrcgards the per vasiveness 01' extern al gc nuer codes and markings that opera te on the body 's com mun ica tion 01' mcani ng . Wilke also privileges wo men's biologica l, natural capa bili lies o ve r an ex am ination of the cultural construction o f gender differelll.;es in her re rfor111ance arl. Li ke most culturaJ fem inists, Wi lk e universalizes her irnage 01' wOmen 's hodies, ignoring the specificity of the historical m o ment wi th staterncn ls li kc "Women ar e the same everywhere in the wo r ld . ,, ) Her c1aim tha t Women are "biologically superior. ! can have a ba by, you can 't" indica tes her prescri p tions for the ideal cx pression and fulfi Umen t of wom a nh ood. Wilke bcl ieves Ihat in order To be the artist as well as the model ror her own ideas, whelher sexua1Jy positive or negative, she [the artist] must also resist the coercion 01' a fascist feminism , whi ch devolves on traditional politi cs and hierarchies in fe mi nist guise rat her than self~rea lization wi th respect to t be ph ysical superiority 01' wOmen as the Jife soun.:c s Whi1e Wilke 's assertions sound like a mystical , spiri lual charge, at base, this touted superiority 01' women transl ates merely into procreation. Lmplied in this an alys is is !he m aintenance of tradition a l family structures and gender roles. No attel11pt is made 10 deconstruct the biologistic view of wo men . There is no critique ofthe cu ltural construction 01' sexuaJíty o r gcnder implicd in Wilke's manifesto. Moira Roth and Lucy Lippard trace (he origins ofthis tradition in feminis t performélllcc art to the practice 01' cOllsciousness-raising, the predominant cultural form ofthe early women's movement.~ The é1utobiographical nature 01' feminist performance work in the 1970s was in line with a poli tic based on sharing personal experience, and on searehing for commonalities among women. Since women share basic biology, the nude female body became the literal a nd metaphorical site in performance art for wOl11en 's unification. Thc preva1cnce of nudity in the work reflected the movement 's concern with a ltitud es to ward women's bodies . Nudity in pe rformance also pa ralleled t he ím pelus in wo men \ tic t iOn and pQelry to artk ulate women 's newly-hea rd voi¡,;es by e vint.:in g whal wa:; cl)n silh:rcd él symbo1ic rec1 am a tio n o f wo men's subjcdivily througll tlle h\)\ly. '1'111: hudy/a rt l'on~ep l also ste1ll1lled from the n lllU!':t1 tC ll1i lli ,~t il11 ru bl' lu ~''''r"~~' WO III l! Il's in nlllc t1iflc rcnccs f rolll 1llen ,
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JusI as Ihe sc>./gl.!lIdl:l l>yHh'lIl ¡.. ,1 I'IlItula l \.."ollslrllct io n mandatco to serve 'iI)l:ill-P\lli lí¡:a l l:nds, t!l.:sÍlc í:, ulso co nstrllcted ou l of cultural con texts. As (ia ylc R lI bll l nOles, rcferring In h Hlcault, "Desires are not preexjsting biolo ¡'kal entilles, bUl rathcr , . . . lhey are l:on:;tituted in lhe co urse o f hist orica lly !;p\!cific sociul pracliccs." 1) Dcsire an d sexuality, as cultural constr ucts, also IIl1luellcc gender formation . Rubin adds,
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Genoer alTeets the operation o[ the sexual system, and the sex ua l system has had gender-specific ma nifestatio ns. B ut although sex ana genoer are relateo , th ey are not the same thing, anu they form the basis of two oistinct arenas of social practice. 14 Visual represen tations of women illustrate the overlaps and djstinctiolls hdween sexuality anu gender. ano ehart the operation 01' desire in relayin g IIIc¡lIlings between images and viewers. The magazi ne Eh/os, for example, hills itself as "erotit: entertai nment for womcn."I S In other words, it fowses lll! lhe relationship between gender and sexual desires by aiming its ero tic I·lllllent at heterosexual \vomen reaoers, not men o It reverses the traoitional lIl:mler roles the pornography industry reinfort:es by portraying men as sex ual 1)hjects and women as the viewers. Fidos's eoitors are cJearly aware 01' the problems inheren t in representa IHm , ,1I10 attempt lO address thc sexual objectilkation of \Vomen in porno '1 aphy by reversals that would objectify the male for women's visual pleasure, Wnmen are de picted in na ture , and the images of naked men are meant to kll1inize men by placin g them in parallel positions. In a manner similar ro 'ultural feminist performance art, Eidos implies that stripping people to their Ilude booies will also strip away the layered cultural constructions of botb ·.cxlIaJity ano gender. Women's sexuality is portrayeo as gentle, em otional , ,llId non-aggressive. The images of men propose that immersed in nature ano ,piriluaJity. men can be tall ght to give up their aggressivc, violent sexuality ,llId hecome fe minized as artístic nudes. Thc magazine assumes the same purist, vaguely self-righteous pose that 1 haral:lerizes cultural feminist performance art. SexuaJity ano desire are di s .III1H:d, their power dynamit:s purportedly erased by th e inscription of both IlInk and femaJe gender into a natural. dispassionate, spiritual space. There l·, 111) fantasy implied in the magazine's sccnarios, ano few interactions are Il' pn:senlco . The images are cerebral, rather than ero tic, more a comment on lile cu itors ' careful avoiuance of what the culture considers po rnographic Ihall Ihe prodllction of a different kind of sexual excitement. The images do IH,I rcally work as a new pornograp.hy . l'"Iolica SIIt:h as Eid(ls tries lo generate politicall y correct sexual im ages by 11111 ti ¡¡yillg t h\! body as a :.pi l il lI al vessel a nu by simply reversing maJe genoer !111"ilhmi ng, 1" conlrast, pl..rlilflnal1l.;c a rtist Karen Pi nley works to d isrupt 11.ld llilm;¡1 pllrn ngra phy by IlbS lllldi ll g lhe CXch
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\,:l lIl'd " 1 I ,1k1.: lo Smd llll l! (ill~ I'asscd f'n ll ll YOll r Ass," 'Tm a n Ass M an," ,11111 "Yu ms I Ip My Ora nJl y s Ass" iJl whieh F inl ey dU l1lp~ a can 01' yams .lwr her na keu bu ttoeks a nu ICls il Jrip into her boo ts- shc slIbverts porno uaphy' s rcp rcsc nlalion ll f uesire with images that confound mainstream sex lIalil y by shífting lhe typica l balance of power."1J Her aggressive d en ial tlr Ihc power dynamics of legitimate sexuality- tha t is. hcterosexuality , in wllidl mcn are powerful and women are passive- a ngers male spectators, \Vilo orten throw lit cigarettes at her. Finley refuses to participate in lhe rul es 01' representati o n by objectifyi ng hcrsclf. In performance, objectifiüatio n impl ies a n active m alc spectator who is inv ited to identi fy with the narra tive's hero in his search for the fulfiIlmen t •Ir his ucsire. 21 Finley d oes not offer he rself as a passi ve object. She rorces me n lo be passive in the face of her rage, ami she desecrates herself as the object of Ihcir desire, thereby mocking their sexuality. Her refusal to play the game kavcs the ma te spectato r nowhere to pl ace himselfin rela tion to her perfollTl ;llIn: . He ca n no longer maintain the position ofthe sexual subject who views 1111': performer as a sexual object. Finley 's wor k revises the power balance in traditional pornography, by Il'prcscnting her body as subordinate to her own wiIl. She changes the axis o f Ihl: power exchange by dai mi ng sexual powcr for herself. Cultural femini sts asslIme sexual power forms a hierarchy that leads to violellce against the \Vllll1en who cIing to its lowest rungs. but such a hierarchy develops only whl'l1 there are sexual subjects and objects available to rank and trade. Finley has laken her body off this representational eom modities markct by refusing 111 appear as a consumable object. Karen Finley breaks from cultural feminist performance art traditions that l'va dc issucs of sexuality and power. She cIearly is not speaking for global Iclllillism. nor growing sprouts in a gesture toward \V'orld peace, but she is stiIJ J1 l1 hlicIy performing issues that are ultimately personal. She describes her arl .I~ Ihe cxpression 01' personal pain and rage, of emotions she caonot resolve IlIl clkclually. She performs in a trance, unrehearsed. Analysis seems to be 1I1 1!-.sin g fro m he r primordia l Ooze. Allhough sexuality and gen de r are shat Il lcd and I11caningless in her narratives, what remains is a qllivering mass 111 1Il1nameab le. ruptured ftesh-- the human \Vaste of sexuality, gender, and IWI fúrl11an ce. The shock vallle in Finley's work foregrounds cultural con ',lllIdi ollS in él negati vc, brutal way that evcntually forces spectators to look
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Fin k y Pllrl'(l11TIS in gcnder-mixcd clubs, bul !hwarls IWI L·Ij) ~I.',ua r IIIlIk spcc IUlOr"S desil é hy ha sing h CI n;1I !'u I ives in grolCliquc !'ll'rWI ~1I111 11 1 (11'11. ¡rlllll llCCS
I ikc lhe Mcphistophelian scientist in D avid C ronenberg's remake of The 1 /1 ' (1 ()Xú), Finley cCln only transport herselfto lower and lower, more debased 1, 1I 11l<; or life . lleca use she is mired in the corporeali ty ofher own flesh as it has I It'l'l1 ;¡bll!)cd in lhe system 01' rep rcsentatioll, she never takes J1ight in to sexua l .1I 11 11'l'nd c r f~l ntusies 01' libcral io n . 1 Ill lcy's omissinn 011' li bc lut iw tUlltusics a ll ies itsel r wi th Ihe posilion 01' the ,1 1111 pum rc" dllisls. A lil'C 1\:IHlls. 11 1 II\.:r n il ique lll' Ihcir tl ll.d ysis, \Vrites Ihat
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Whatever might spew from the \Vound in the psyche Finley describes is the language of pornography. But sbe remlers the pornography impotent. In this id -speak, shi uin g, vomiting, and fucking arc ull eq ual. Desire attaches to disgust. I ')
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an li-pom IClIl1n lslS have lorm 01' fanlusy which
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The structure of desire. by necessity. differs across sexual preference. Porno graphic narrat ives or any kind 01' performance for sex ual partners 01' the same se)( construct a d iffcrcnt relationship between performers and spectators on the basis 01' gender roles. rn lesbian performance, the rcprcsentation of desire is often startling betAluse of this di fferc nce. Lesbia n sexuality is given voice and imaged in tbeatre, where heterosexual male desire has historical1y reigned in the form of the male gazc. In the lesbian context, playing with fantasies of sex ual and gender roles offers the potential for changing gender-coded structures of power. Power is not inherently male; a woman who assumes a dominant role is only male like If the culture considers po wc r as él solely male attribute. When a lesbian performer assumes sexual power in the lesbian performance space. the re assignation of meaning becomes subversive. C reatin g a stage motivated by ditTerent kinds 01' desire aJlows experi mentation with style. roles , costume, gender, and power, and affers a ltern ative cultural meanings. Lesbian performance, in its particula r East Village Manhattan variety, foregrounds the subversion of the dominant culture'!, gender-polarized images of sexual power in the context of lesbia n desi re. Lesbian performers, writers, and directors parody dominant cultural images of gender to deconstruct gender-specific conduct élncl codeso Lesbian performances in Manhattan's East Village is housed prim ari ly at the WOW Ca fe, which now occupies a f100r in a nea rl y-a bando ned wa re house bui lding 011 East 4th Slrcet, across from LaMama. W hen the Cafe began in 1982, it offered a place for mastly lesbian women to meel. to J rin k caflee ar b uy beer fram an impromptu kitchen, and to be cn lert uined by informa l performances. rol' a time. Il!Sbia n perrormcrs hascJ at WOW ,liso pc rformcJ al o lh\!r Easl Vi llacc pC lfnrmam:c cl uhs. which rnaUl !"\lr , 1 1hea l "l' cxpericllce
1I0t IIl1 lí " c a proglcssivc UIIIIIl'I Ipl Ihen ;luJicIICCS. '\ On a ny givcll wcekclJll IIlg hl :-.pcct the entertainment it offers. I: xpanding the boundaries 01' gender roles is a given both in the perform anees and the WOW space, in which the spectators, as well as the performers, Wl~ar costumes that push at the construets 01' gender-specific codeso Since the spcctators al WOW are mostly women and mostly 1csbian, the performers' manipulation oftraditional sexual and gender roles is mirrored in the audience. ()f'ten, women known in tl le community to be more " masc u1ine" in manner and style will arrive to see perfo rmanees dressed in "feminine" costumes- or vice versa. This blurring is mirrored in performan ce. where for the speetalor. part 01' the fun is frequently seeing someone she kn ows assume her opposite "hutch" or " fem me" role on stage. To be " fe mme" is an option for lesbians Ihat 1:llIs a tone end of a more fI uid gender role contin u um that oflers " butch " as an option at the other end. Exaggerating the trappings 01' traditio nal femin ille and masculine gender roles in performance highlights their unnaturalness as cultural constructions. This attention to gender costuming is key to ehit 01(/1 With Carmelila ( IlJ84), an on-going lesbian performance structured as a talk show. Hostess ( 'armelita Tropicana (Alina Troyano) is a lesbian performerdressed in temale drago as are many of her invited guests. These pe rformcrs foreground the !le nder role 01' women in heterosexual society and w ithin the lesbian com IIllInity by exaggerating the gcstures and costuming of the feminine woman as ' I(;mmc." The concern \Vith costul1ling in the construction of character an d pl'rsonae in Chil Chal is important and elaborate, as if to acknowledge that pwp1c's carerully constructed "looks" have much to do \Vith the \Vay they are ¡.',I.'ndcr coded. The gender-specific costumes, however, assume new meanings through lhe perrormcrs ' sexual and gender role-play . In Chil Chal. Carmelita appears in a long, red . flowered evening gown , wcaring a 1Calher boa and heavy makeup. Carmelita is a Carmen Miranda ·sl'nd- up." a persona wi th él thick Cu ban accent constructed by a performer whosc aelual ethnrcity is a lso Cu han . Thus. Troyan o parodies both her ethn ic .li1d her g\!ndcr role. 1 h... "kIllIllC " costume o n Carmelita Tropieana is a I \lllI nh!lI t 011 hot \¡ ilsdl alld the pc rlor11lcr. C armeli la appropriates the
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they claim is dangcro u:; beca use it en tails the sllbsutu lio n of an illu1iion fo r the " social-sexual rea lity" of another persono In reject ing as so mueh "male-identified mind -body dualism " the belief th a l fantasy is the repo:'titory 01' ou r am bi valent and confl ictual Ceelings, cultural femini sts have devel oped a highly mechanistic, behaviorist ana.1 ysis th at confla le~ fantasy with reality and pornography with violenceY T a ken to extremes. arguments like thi s co uld insist on the complete abolil ion of representation as fanta sies that substitute illusion for realily.
Liberative fantasies:
lesbian performance and sexuality
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exaggerateJ IClllin ine arpa rd lú r It:¡,biun tllealn:. rhl: :ludil'I1Ce sllrieks a pproval at her appca rall(;e and , with catcalls a nd applUllSC. purt icipates in the parod y o f sexual meanin gs. A t another point in the pieee, Camlelita appears dressed in a tuxedo as t he Spanish-speaking pop singer Julio Iglesi a to si ng love songs about women , This double Iesbian drag show foregrounds the notion of gender as drag.25 C armelita's impersonation of Iglesia al so appropriates the pop ular roman tic music tradi tion- another bastion of strict gender role education- to express lesbi a n sexuaJity. T hc structure of the piece parodies typical talk sh ow fo rmats. Ca rmeli ta sings several o ff-k ey melodies. ind uding a ftou rishing rendition 01' Debbie Boone's " YOl! Ligh t lJ p M y Life" ; offers a Cuban/Japanese eooking lesson in which she hacks up a chic ken wi th a meat dea ver; and interviews various guests. T am my W hynot, Lois W ea ver's character from the Split Bri tches Company' s production Upwardly M ohile H ome, appears as one o fthe guests. Whynot is a lso a "send-up" of the fe rnme ro le. W eaver wears her d yed. platinum-blonde hair bouffant-style, pain ts her face with heavy but tas teful makeup, and decora tes herself with rhinestone jewelry and s
1.1111 likl..' J)(IIl IlU Dicu:h '!\ j).',I"' ff 11,'111'/1' (l'>X(I), it is the lesbianism 01' the t\Vo Ill:lill c llara cters Iha l is ~h ()ckillg. g ivt: n the viewing expectations 01' a general dlldil'ncc. ~in ee leshia nislll i ~ (l:)SUl ned in WOW perrorm a nces, the genderiz ed l'o llvenli o ns 01' po p ula r form s beeome startling insteaJ . 1 he WQW Cafe performcrs
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Making all of the couples women not only parodies the Harlequin Romance formula , but heterosexual rela ti onsb ips as well , in so far as lhey are groumled in polarities ol' sex ual difference.. . . Al though , clcarly, the production is devised primarily for enterta inmen t, the illlent to undermine the social and sexual values 01' the rom ance I',enre is evident. 21, Scxuality is often directly represented in lesbian perfo rml ller. h ullh c scx llal lcnsi()fl bclween t]lem pcrmeates the stage H " tldkss 0 1' \) I IH: r cwntN . T lll'Y -;cJIII."l.: l.:ach o lh cr by t rading charged sexual 1)1'\\1\'1 in whk h d ~s i l\;,' i, 111(' lllll y Jl ill'l.'~IIl1l.::l n i nu. "
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A ltlwugh mUl-h ni hel \Vo l k .lS ;¡ d i n:~ l ol " lid p~ , ICl ' t lll'l p ll lld Iw o tlh.:ll sC ll1 i-au lll bi ogTuphical, Wuuvcr suys s il\: sccs pcrrOl lll;1I1l.'C as a dlalt ~ c fe) I people lo pul Iheir fantas ics o n st age. Spl il Bri tchcs' petl'nrmallccs lIslIally create eccentTic chara cle rs lha t grow from the pcrrorrnc rs ' ucsire lo perrOml lhe less visible parls of themselves. In Upw({,.d~v Mohile Home (198 5), ror example, Weaver plays the bleaehed-blonde T ammy W hyno t, a wo uld-be coun try western singer, refleeting her own geographic and cultural origins: Shaw pl a ys a lesbian mother, a role she plays at home, but which is dis la nceJ in performance by the add ition of an Eastcrn E uropean accent; and Deborah Margolin, the third traupe member, pla ys the aggressive, hard-sell mana ger orthei r perfofming aet , playing o tf her own Jewish eth nicity . The trio is living in poverty in a van parked below Lhe Brook lyn Bridge. a nd sin ce they are per formers, the narrative is set in a theatrical eon text. Spli l Britches' productions are known fo r their orten ec\ectic com binati ons of fastidious attention to realistic detail with bizarre f1ights 01' surrealistic fancy . In their signature piece, Split Britches (1983), the stultifying dai ly rou tine of three rural women is captured by repeti tive dialogue and lon g pauses, then suddenly interrupted by bursts of energy ami narrative col o r. T he same st ruct ure is used in Upward(v M obile H ome, in which the basic, simple pl o t is di srupted by surreal, im aginative m onologues that break the fourth-wall and linear narra tive conventions the play esta bli shes . Fo r instance, without drop ping her Eastern E uropean character, Shaw J irectly addresses the spectatoTs, asking them if their seats are comfo rtable, and if they are getting what th ey paid for. She makes the audience aware that it is separate from he r fa nta sy, di srupting the normal theatre convention that requires sLlspension of disbelief. This wil1ingness 011 the part of lesbia n playwrights and performers to locate their work in theatre conventions, rather than in the il1usionless doc u l11entation of most cultural feminist performan ce art, al10ws for the use of tantasy to imagine different realities. Gender roles. for example, are reimagi ned along an expanded continuum. Sexuality and dcsire, as opposed to being banished as problematic taboos. are continual1y present as subtext in these performances. The presence of lesbian dcsire, in fact, helps to refashion the manner in which gender and sexual roles are played in both performance and reality. Basing their work in the conventions of theatre also allows these performers to comment on and manipulate the traditional gender-eoded performance apparatus. Lesbian performances at WOW general1y ta kc themselves mucb less seri ously than most cultural feminist performances. Self-parody in terms 01' gemler. race , and c1ass provides a starting point for redefin ing al1 demarcations 01' gender, race? amI c1ass. In one of U{Jwardly /vlobilc IIome's more absurd ist mome nlS. Margolin engineers the trio 's a ud ition for a Jewish agent. Wea ring a S upreme'b-style d ress tha t endoses t hem in an claslidzeu embrace, Shaw, Weaver, ;md Margol in sin g " 1 Like lO be in Amcrica" fmm 11'1'11 '<;idc Slorl' in Yilldi¡¡h . Only Marl!.tllin is a l a l1 ",om forlah lL: wil lt Ih!.: I111 Il sltlli(1I1 , butthc
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Ilt al S hil w and W I.::lVc.' 1 t; llI lIl l1k , IV~'I Illl· lyl il..s a ll d lite a c~c lII fllrcgrou nus Iltl' l)tlJody . The d rcSS a \1 li J e'> l \l Illl' cultsl r ue l iolt 01' Blaek r\,ll1l a lc pcrlormers ,1' ellltllrU I I.:~) lIl lllodilies, wlti k lit!.: IranslaLiol1 inl" Y iddish comrnents ironic ;tll y llll lite id cl.llis lIl 01' all illl n rigranl aspirants to the Ame rican drcam. By dra will g 1'1'0111 a grab-bag of persollac mixed across gender, race, and class, ;rlld perforrning Ihcm without attempting to layer imperson a tions on top of Ilteir already spccific charal:terizations, the Spl it Britc hes performers redirect spc.: cla lors ' attitudes. In leshian performance, pcrformers' bodies are not displayed nude, b ut in Ihe costul11es 01' their cultural conslructs, wh ich the perfo rma nces subvert Ihrough pointed comedy . The performances at the WOW C afe have been niLicized in so me circles for lhe prcvalence of butch/fem me role-playi ng in l he work, which is seen as politically incorrect. Nonetheless, as Iesbian perform ;lIIce makes clear, pl ayi ng with sexual rol es and fant a sy does not rein force .'c nder rol es. b ut points out the eontradíctions in a nd limits to the traditi onal vonstruction 01' polar ized gender ehoiees. 1;1\'1
Reassigniog gendered meanings: tbe case of lesbian I)Ornography I'ornography is the most direct, available representation of sex uality in th is l'ltlture, and in a sense, exemplifies the constructiol1 of shared meanings between ill1ages and viewers. Mass market heterosexual pornography, for example, can he scen as a basic paradigm of maJe desire dri ving representations of women. I'herefore, alternative pornography, such as women's erotica or lesbian porno )'raphy, can illustrate how dcsire can be differently represented. rrorn a cultural feminist point of view, pornographic imagcry is woman Itating regardless ofwhose d esire it represents. Lesbians, for instance , get " bad pn:ss" in the pornography debate, for reasons that revolve aTO und both sexu ¡Ilily and gender. Jn the late 1970s, a group oflesbians called Samois advertised lIs prercrcnce for sadomasochistic practice. The small, San F rancisco-based !roup's crusade to increase the visibility of s/m as a n option for lhe expres :.iolt 01' 1esbian sexuality promptcd heated debate in I'eminist circles, m05t Itolahly at a 1982 Ba rnard Conference on sexuality .19 Because s/m lesbians Ilafllc in power ro'les, which are assllmed to be gender marked, anti-porn klllinists assume their sexuality is male or male-identified. This assumption I'()nflates sexuality with gender. Power is inherent in sexual and gender role play, since lhe gcnder system is I'olarized along a continuull1 on which men are see n as the dominant extreme and women as Ihe passive, subrnissive other. As Al ice Echols cautions. " We '.llPuld ack nowlcdge lhe po::¡si bili ty that power in heres in sex uality rather lit an ass ull1e Ihal power 'iim ply withers away in cgali la ri a n relationships ."30 )\ 11 sc.\ualil y has a 4 11 ~ )1 ienl ,,1' nnwcr. Satl o masochism takes po wer to extremes, In ~ill1ply makl.!,.'i Icx l llill w lr a l I~ slI hl ex luil l in l11any ..sex ual relationships. ( ,'.)
BOl h <1', a p;lI udiglll 01 tI\I: \; \1 11 11 fe 's \;\,..S ll m;liulI ul ¡ '~ I h lll II lId a:; a SC:\ II;1I ch oil.'C, s/m ca n be :iCC II as a li lcra linllio n 01' lhe POW\! I :.Ia l liS 1I1I 1~n': 1I 1 in the dich o tomizcd malc/lema lc roles. Firsl aml:ndmCll1 iSSUl:S asiue, pcrhaps Icsbia n s/m offers an opportu nity lo explore Lh e nal ure of poWCI an u sexlIa lity apa r! froll1 strict genJer dichoto mies. The Barnard debacle a nd the resu lting lengthy, a ngry dialogues in t he fe minist press prom pted the publication 01' lesbian pornogra phic ma gazin es that spell out in images and words some lesbia ns ' altemati ves to poli tica lly wrrect feminist sexuality. In a visual space mean t al least theorelically to be free o fmale suborJination an J o bjectification of wo men, these magazines olTer representations of onc kind 01' sexu a lily based in lesbia n dcsire. By imaging a nJ performing fantasies in which power becomes a ne utral qua lily a va il able to women, their editors suggest that the nature of sexuality and gender can be explored and perhaps rundamentally cha nged . As in lesbia n performance, lesbia n pornography evinces a wiJlingness to ex periment wilh sexual and gender roles. The lesbian porn magazi ne 0 11 Our Backs, for instance. is billed as "Entertainment for the Adventurous Lesbia n,"l l which places sexuality in lhe con text of fantasy , imaginatio n , and experimentation. On the cover 01' lhe Spring 1985 issue, two wom en a re photographed agajnst a white wall, wearin g outrageo us , punk -style outfi ts leopard-design, skin-tight fittin g pants, leather jackets, studded belts an d bracelets. and high heels. One of the women has a tiny dildo attached to her belt. The image introduces On Our Backs' iconog raphy , which is aggressi ve, but irreve rent. Lesbian pornography prese nts sexual fantasies constructed through co s turnes and locations , ma ny of which echo scenarios in traditional male pornography. There is sorne direct appropriati on of male forms in lesbian pornography , but they acquire new meanings when they are used to com municate desire for readers of a different gender and sexual orientation. A n 0 11 Our Backs photo spread ca1led "Rack ' n' R oll Ramona ," for examplc, resembles a similar spread in th e J une 1985 issue of H usller, which is called "Slas h: A Different D r ummer. "32 T he J/usller scenario sets Slash in a performance contex t. She is alone on stage with a drum seto which she never plays. She uses the drum sticks merely to point to her vagina, substituting for the missing (but implied) ph a llus. Slash 's costume borrows the iconography of prostitution , and contextualizes her within s/m imagery . She wea rs a studded collar arounJ her neck , studded lea ther bracelets on both wrists, a nd a leather corset with thin shoultler straps. the bodice ofwhich underli nes her ereet nipples . The corset is attached to two ga rters that hold up black , fishnet stockings, worn with high-heelcd sil ver sandals. T hrollghollt lhe scena rio, thick cigar srn oke a ppears lO be d rifti ng into lhe frame fro rn an o lT-sla ge so urce , im plyi ng th a l m ale spcl.!t al nrs 111 1: wUlc hing Ihe performa nce in a ca barel sctl ing . The pcrl"OTl J1U IIVe 11;1 1111 " n I III\! sprcad /f)
.t~sl , e l alé '" 1I will! slrip h::t..,~. 111 , ",, 1 Slilsh is cOllslmcted as the dusi vc object nI" IlIa le dcsile . In ulle ¡\ r the phul llgraplls, Slasll slllokes a cigarette witll one hand . \1 1)ldillg her drum stit.:k¡¡ ill tlK' o tllcr. The iconography is a lmost butch; hCI loo!.. i:s a ki nd 01" d a re. SIl irpe r Sd h Wcene, in a n article wri tten ror the Sex IS.i"u e of the fem injst ioumal Jleresies, analyzes strip-tease with descript io ns an alogo us to ]Jusl/er's CO lll cxtua lizalion of Slash:
I suddcnly realizcd that what was at issue between us perfOlw ers [strippers] anJ the audience was power. The men carne, sorne af them. to sllffer: their attitude was " She is ma king me ho rn y. but [' lIl1ever ha ve her." T o them , the show was exq uisite frustrati an, the sexy woma n an ~tage, a tormentor. Th e other group of men came to puU imagino ary strings; they saw themselves as mas ters .... In othcr words, some of the men fantasized themselves as passive, others as dominant. 33 I'mwr is cJearly at isslle in the strip-tease context of Slash's performan ce in 1/1/.lller. Although she is objectified , she is inaccessib1e and to sorne degree ';;ldistically in control of thc implied interaction. In 0/1 Our Backs' fea tllred photo spread "Rack 'n' Rol1 Ramona " (p. 22), IlIlICh 01' the icono!:,'r aph y used in Hustler is recontextlla lized for lesbia n leadcrs. The spread begins with photograph s of R amona in a perfo rma nc.:e n mtext. Her costume echoes Slash's- she wea rs a da rk corset that high htrhts her ereet nip ples, a ga rter belt , high hecls, stockings, black gIO\'es, and .1 sllldded leather Wrist band o rhc tcxl beside the photographs informs the reader that Ramona perfonn s ;11 Baybrick's [a lesbi an ba r in San Francisco] Burlesque for W omen da nce :.Ilow. Ramona is clearly a real person , playin g out th e performance scenario, IIl1like Slash, who is obviollsly a modellconstruct. Ramona makes her livin g by stripping for lesbians. In con trast to the wordless spread in Husller, RallHlna 's intervie\v with "Fa nny Fa tale" accompanies her photos. While Slash is inaecessib1e and sadistic, the On Our Backs interview text dl'snibes Ramona 's sexual ex ploits with women who come to see her show. The IIlt er\'icw is focusetl on her sexuality in the contcxt of her life as a performer, .llId highlights a n interest in butch/femme sexual role-play. Ramona reports,
1get (hese bealltifu\ reOlinine women after me, and they say, "R amona. I don't know about you. You' re not feminine and you're not mascu lillc. Ya ll'rc like a mountain- that' s why r want to cJimb you!" (p. 26) Ri ll n'~ lIa in vites a blu rring nI' genJcr d islincti o ns that influenees lesbia n ·,l·\ uali l) . " \ J () I1' t know ¡lbUI\ I yOll" i:; scxl,tally exciti ng in the lesbian pero 1IIII I\anl.:l: and ~neiil l l:\l n ICX I
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S/m sCX ~)I Lc n l/SI.'::; 1~l l c-r l ilyill~\ ¡¡ lid ~O Il S I III\.: I Cd ~~~ II . III\1 ' , llltlh 11' C\plílll: the impliea li<)lls l,r hlu l red scxual allo gClldcl t'1)lc$ ~ ucll .. :. R, lllIo lla '::; " 11 101111 lai n," a mi l O ael out strid gcn J c r eX lremes. Ant i-rOIlI Icmi nish ahho r !he e1emen l 01' {'an tasy in s/m, and disarr rovc of ro lc-playing in lhc co ntcxl of sexuality. Robi n R uth Linden. in her int roúuctioll lo a collectio ll 01' essays called Agaill.l'l Sadoma.\·ochi.l'/11, w riles th al "Sadoma soch istic roles amI practices atternp t to replicate the phenomen ology 01' oppresslon thro ugh role-playing."34 She w rites that s/m attempts an eroticization ofpowcr and powerlessness ... achieved through enact ing fantasi es involvi ng variations on polarized roles.... Ri tualizcd "scenes" are arranged a round specific aetivities in which sex ual partners have a mutLtal interest . ..." Linden's cultural feminist critique fail s lO consjder the positivc ramilications of role appropriation and ex perirncntation . The lesb ian s/m pornographi c costllmes and scenes in On Our ButAs are actually gender\ess. They have bee n assigned connotations by the contexts in which the culture has inserted them. Inserting them in different contexts dis ru pts their traditional meanings.
Toward a new articulation of gender and sexuaJity lJnder the dictates of tbe anti-pornography debate, desire has come to be scen as a male trap that automatically objectifies and oppresses women . To in vesligate sexual and gende r roles in re presentation, howevcr, whcre desire is an intluencing factor , it is importa nt to acknowledge that desire is not neccs sarilya fixed , male-owned commooity, but can be exchangeo , with a much diffe ren t meaning, between women. When the locus of desire changes, the dClll onstration of sexuality and gender roles also changes. The political diffe rences that separate feminists arouno the porn ograph y debate translate into aesthetic differences between cultural feminist and lesbian performance art. i\nti-pornography activists and cultural feminists are caugh t in a restrictive, literal interpretation of desire as male that limits their a bility to sce the potentialities 01' representation. By avoiding the representat io n of scxuality ami desire for the safety of nature and spirituality, thereb y limit JÍng women to the capabilities biology outlines, cultural feminist perform a mx artists prescribe a \\iorlo chise\ed in unchangeable gender differences , in which passion is expressed as a gentle, affectionate embrace. Yet ironicalJy, these artists cannot escape lhe infections 01' representat ioll . They contradict their ai ms when they loca te so much 01' their work in t he nllde femaje bod y, yet insist that men (and women) bli ml themse lves lO desire étnd sex uality. W ith teehn iques th a! are essentially d ocumcntHl'y. sillce t hey fear ill usio ns, t.:u ltuml fcm inis! performance art fó;lils lo lak.c flI l!.h! ;r1 !O !he Iiberativc fanltlsics lh~lt ksbian pcrforrnanl:C ímal;l.illl.:s
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J)c(l' IIIII1I Cd 111 )1 11' he 111l,u 'lIIl1'd l1y 11 \1; IIll1Siolls Iha! ha w pe l p~ ! uat~ J W(IIIICII'S IIpprc,;s iplI 11I 1í.!CI It·I' I' ·~\.! III II II (lIl , and lkt crm in ctl !o tl isinlCct tltclll 'ic lvc:> n IHil !he harlll dO lll' hy Ihe represcn!a!ion 01' male fantasies in "oth pcrrur malllx "ntl porm'glCl phy , cullural l'eminists si tu ate most of their wnl'k in n:al seUings, real !ime, a nd real b odies. Detached from any concrete \ 1Illsidera!ion 01' maJe sexuality, sinee it is not at all important to their \Yo rk , il's hia n pcrl<mllers are willing to experiment wi tb male forro s, incJud ing la l1tasy. Lesbian artisls si fl th rough popular culture, conventiona l theatre /'0 1111 s, aní.! even pornography, to see wh at they hold that might he salvagetl rOl"
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Ás lesbian performance and lesbian pornography cJarify, albeit in different ways, it is unnece:;sa ry to abandon eve rything once considered male-like for a wnrld of nature and spirituality considered penullima tely female-like . Powor, :iex lIality, and desire have historical conno tations assigned by rhe do mi nant l'IiI!lIrc for reasons 01' ~ ocia l, economic, ami cult ural e.x pediency that have Icstrictcd wom en's abilities to express themselves ano their scxuality within Ihis culture. B ut power, scxuality, and desire can be recuperated from th e II ictly male domain, and can assume distinctly ú ifferent meanings placed in dilTerent scxLlal and gcnder contcxlS . Putting imagination and fantasy back into pl ay allows for a limitless I\.: visioning 01' a rcality that has been hampered by strict gender and sexual 111 les. Flying on lesbian desire in the free-falJ space oflesbian theatre alJows a lea rliculation of gender and sexuality in the meaningful exchange between ·.pct.:lator and performer.
Notes Sce Teresa de Lauretis, Atice DOeSl1'f (Bloolll ington: Indiana IJniversity Press , 1984) for ",ork on the relationship o f d esire to narrative str ucture. De Laurctis wriles, " Wolllan is then olhe very g round 01' represent¡¡tion , both object and sup porl 01' a desire which , inlima te ly bound up lI'ith power and creativity , is the Illoving force of cullure and h ist ory" (p. 13) . See E. Ann Kaplan . Women & Film: /lof/¡ Sides (~rf¡'e ClJl11el'lJ (N ew York : Methuen . 1993), particularly her chapter " 1$ I.he Gazc MaJe""" 23- 35. for an analysi s of th e geoderized aspects of the einematic "Inok" that has uscCul correlations lo performance. See La ura Mulvey, " Visual I'lc<Jsurc anel Narralivc Cinema Screen , 16:3 (1975), 6 ·- 18 for one of Ihe first psychoanalytical an alyses 01' women 's posi,ti o n in reprcsentation. 1 Se.~ Ihe Sex ls.l'ue. He/'esies #/2 3:4 (1981) for short anides cxpounding both vicws: Pel! C alifla , "Felllinism a no Sadomasochism:' Hcresies #/2, 30 - 35, for Ihe IlIaniCe st() (JI' the mosl vocal pr.o ponent of lesbian stlll sexuality; COl11ing fo Pmver, SalllOis C olleclive, cds. (revi sed cd., Boslo n: Alyson Publications, 1982), for arti l'ks amI personal tcstiJllol1y on lesbian sadomélsochistic p ractiec; Anorea Dworkin , 1'()/'II(),!!;rllp/'y: Mí'1/ Posse.l'.I'ing WOI/1CI1 (NeIV York: Perig ree Books, 1979) Cor th e lúrem osl ;1I1\i-pornography fClllinist Ir
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4 IbiJ . 5 Sec A li.:e Echols, "TIle Ne w ¡'cm inislll o f Vin a mi Yang" fOI a t:ritiq ut: oft:ultural feminism in POWefS (JI Dcsire, Ann Snitow. C hristinc Stllnsdl , ami Sha roll Thompson , eds. (Ne w York: Monthly Rev it: w Pres~, 1983), 439 59. 6 Moira R oth , ed. , 7he Amazing DeclJde: W O/llcn a//(J Perjórmo/lce Arl in A/11erim 1970 ¡980 (Los A ngeles: A stro Artz, 1983).34. 7 "Politieizing Art: Hannab Wi lkc ," The N el\' ('ommlll7 Good, May 1985, l. 8 Wilke intervie\\', quoted from the catalogue 01' the exhibition American Womell Arlisls at the Sao Paulo Museum , Jul y 1980, lO. 9 See Roth , 1111' Amazing Deeade. and Lucy Lippard , From ,he CenIa: Feminisl Essays on Women·.I' Ar¡ eNew York: E. P. D utt o n, 1976), particularly her chapter on E uropcan and American women 's body art. 121 - 38. 10 For a full dest:ription of this piece, see Jeanie Forte, "Rat:hel R o senthal: Femillislll and Performant:e Art ," Womel/ & P eljórll1l1l1ce Journa/2:2 (1 985), 30- 31. 11 For thcorelit:al \\'ork on this position , see Mo nique Wittig's writings in Feminisl IsslIes, particularly "The C ategory 01' Se"," F all 1981. 12 Sct: Adrienne Rich, "Compulsory Heterosex ual ity and Lesbian Ex istence," Signs 5:4 (Sulllmer 1980). l:l Gayle Rubin, "Thinking Sex : Notes for a R adical Tht:ory of tht: Politics of Sex u ality," in P/easlIre (I/1{/ f)al1g er, Carol S. Vance, ed . (Boston: R outledge & Kegan Pa ul , 1984), 276. 14 R ubin, 'Thinking Sex," 308. 15 Eidos 1:4 (Spri ng 1985). 16 W h ile Ka ren Finley had been performing her unique brand of performance art on the European performance st:ene for quite sorne time, Vi//age Voiee write r Cindy Ca rr began to ca ll special attenlion to Fin ley's pending Ne w York appt:arances in Spring 1986. Carr's beat is the off-beat , as it were. Since her tastes run towa rd feminist , lesbian, aml otht:r gcndcr-bending performers, she was dearly intrigued by Finley, and featured her upcoming downtown perfomlances in a kind of hot tips prcview section. Several wecks after rinley began to present (very) late-night pcrfonnant:es at venues such as The Kitchen , the Voice ran Carr' s cover story "Unspeakable Practices, Unnatural ACIS: The Taboo Art 01' Karen Finley" (24 J une 1986). Carr's style for the Finley story is somewhat inct:ndiary, alt hough no more so than other, even more sensational cover stories the Voiee has run on topics such as gay maJe back-room sex dubs Iike the defunct Mineshaft. Finley, ho wever. is a heterosexual woman , and the fact th a t the paper featured her perfo rmance perversions on its cover prompted an outpouring of angry respon se from readers and other Vo;ce writers that filkd lhe paper's letters pages and opinion colulllns for several wet:ks. 17 Carro "Unspeakable Praetices," 17. 18 Carr, " U nspeakable Practiees," 86. 19 Ibid. 20 In a performance in Cologne in ¡981, Finley and her husband Brian Routh (one (lf the Kipper K ids) performed as Adol!' lI itler and Eva Bra un. "Kipper gooses tepped and saluted, naked from the waist do wn. F inley wore a ..-:orset ami garte r belt, and because she h,ld diarrht:a, periodit:ally tOl, k a d ump on one s ide of lhe stagc. On one orthe nigh ls. K ipper sang a .Ioh n ny Mathis hit. then \Venl lo tht' bow l wh erl;' Fin1t:y had bt:t:n rclicvi ng herselfand lapped up lhe shit " (Carr, IQ), Asearr lIotes Ihis is clca rly no t l11 ai nslrcam sexualil y. 21 See de La urclis. A/ic(' /)/lt' I'I/ '/ "Dc:;irc illld Na rra li vc:" IO J~ ',7,
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¡\lin ' h :hllls, "' 1he 1U111 1II}' 111111.: Id ," ill 1'/"" .\'/11'('1/1/(/ J)'/lIf.!('/-. 511. .) \ TI ...: Sr'J'illg 1!)H5 itisll t: 111 I lit ' '-'nI/l/a !<" I'il'll' 'f'/05 (2(): 1) is devo ted to East Villagc pl'rrlllll ltIlH':C. I:;It: h tlr the.: cluhs prOlllincnl in the neighborhood in Fall 1984, jusI hc.:fo rc most of them \Vere closed, is profiled in cletai l. A n article t:alled ":lO Novclllbcr IIJR4" d\Jcuments diflerent performances happening 011 tlle sume evening al du bs within walking distance 0 1' each other. WOW performers are profilcd in s,'veral 01' the perfomlances described. See also Alisa Solomon's article on the hislory 01' the WO W C afe in the same issue. 24 Wt:aver ilnd Troyano ma dc these remar ks on él piUlel about Ea st Vi llage perform ance held during the Women's Program (of the fomler America n T h eatre Associa tion) pre-con vention 011 A ugust 16, 1986, a t New Yo rk Universit y. Writer/performer Holly If ughes, who is a lso a core WOW m ember, joked that East Village art happencd because the places people live in a re so sITIall they are forced to crea te social and artistic outlets simply to have somewhe re else to go . ' .~ See Sue-Ellen Case, "Gender as Pla y," W OIl1 e l1 & Peljilrmal/ce .Iourna/I:2 (Wi nler 1985), 21 - 24. C ase writes, "The drag role rnakes all gender roles appear fictitious ," 1«¡ Kate Da vy, " Heart 01' the Scorpion at the WOW Cate." The Drama Re viell' TlO5 29:1 (Spring 1985) , 56. .'7 Shaw , wh o is quite tall, tends to \Vear shin y, 1950s style suits, llarrow tieso and black shoes with white socks. Weaver, whose hair is dyed plat.inum blol1de a /a Tammy W hynot, wears makeup, jewe lry , a nd generall y more femin ine clothes. Sccing the couple, and other WOW performers, on the st reet , it is never quite clca r whether they are heading to the theatre for a performa nce o r simply goin g o ut lo eaL 2X Sha w a nd Weaver met ea ch ot her wo rking with Spiderwoman Theatre, and 800n left the group to form Split Br,j¡t:hes. D isgusling SOl/gs (/lid Puky Imoges at Theatre for the New City in 1985 was a revival piece, and marked th e first time Ihe two groups had worked together since the SpliL History has it that Shaw aod Wcaver 1cft Spiderwoman beca use of sexuality-based confticts. It is ¡ronie, then , that th e performance of lesbian desire was so p rominent in th e production the women chose to revive. ") See lhe Vi//oge Voice Lilerary SlIfJJI/el/1('11l. December ¡ 982, 16, for a discLlssion of the Barnard conferencc. 1() Echols, "The T allling of the Id ," 58. \ I Susie Bright, ed .• 0 /1 Ou/' RlIck,l' 1:4 (Spring 1985). ;\11 other references will appt:ar in the text. 0/1 a l//' Rack.\" na me satirizes Off' Our R(lcks, one of the oldest cultural ft:minist newspapcrs in the country. Based in Washington D.C. . the monthly paper cOvers na tional and international t:Onferenees, news, and events. Jt reported on the Barnard co n f'erence in deplh , and \Vas thc first fcminist newspaper to offer a forulll fllr discussing the po rnography debate. \ 1 l ,arry Fl ynt, ed., Husl/er , June 1985, 28. Scph Wee ne, "Venus. " fferesies #12 , 36. \ 1 Robin Ruth Lindcn. D arlene R. Pagano, D iana E. H, R ussell , Susan Leigh Star, t:ds .. Agail1.1'l Sl1dlJ/1111S()('/¡i,\'I1I (E. Palo Alto: Frog in the Well, 1982), 7. \', 1,illdcll, Agoil1sl Sodo/11i/.\'()chislll, 2.
25
T H EAT RICAL P E R FO RM ANCE lllustration, translation, fu lfillment, or supplement? Marvin COI'lson Sourcc: The.alre .Iournal :; 7( 1) (1985): 5 11 .
Thea tre theorists of the romantic period agreed almost wil hout exceplio n upon the arbitrariness 01' neoclassic rules in genera l an d tbe unities of time. place, and genre in particular. Rejection of these rules, however, by no means implico th at works o f art lacked organizing princi pIes, and one of the first concernS of romantic theory was the discovery and description of such fe a tures. Shakespeare was inval uable to these critics as his success was c1early achieved without recourse to neoclassic standards, yet by the same token , he presented a new problem in the definition ofthe organ izing principies by which his works could be defined . The German romantics proposed a solution which resol ved this difficulty by metaph or: Shakespeare created as nature LTcated; his works had what Schlegel called a " mysterious inner unity," Ii ke tbat which organized living bein gs, a unity which came to be caJled organic. The literal development of this metaphor mély be seen in Goethe's Wi/he/m Meisler , when young Wilhelm opposes the cutting of a Shakespearean play 011 organic grounds: "Wilhelm absolutely refused to listen to the talk of separating wheat from chalT. ' 1t is not a mixture 01' wheat and chaff,' he said. 'H is a trun k, boughs, twigs, lea ves , buds , blossoms, and fruit. Is not each one tbcre with the others and by means ofthem'?' "1 Later, as a producing theatre director, Goethe took a more pragmatie view, but others, lik c T ieck, con t inueo to champion lIneut Shakespeare on these samc grounds. The strugglc lo restore ano ultimately to prcsent the plays in a text as c10sc as possible to Shak cspeare 's original was a major issue for the ninetecnth-century stage. 2 ( 'orrup led texts wcrc hard ly the most serious problcm this new approach J1rc~en t (!d lO dramalil: lhcory. for implied wi thin the orga nic view was a ,·Ii;dlcl1 gc l o thlolat rica l pcr rllrmnncl' ilsdf. Ir lhe Shakespearean texts (or any tllh el pluy:;) wel"l: illd eetl orga ll il' wlw lcs , com plete within thcmselves ano /11
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hy l ';¡¡¡klvclJ'o, WIH ) insi l:i li.:d thul dl':rt ll a was l'n::alcu ro l' Ihe plcasure o f an ' ign \)rall l llllilliludc" lh a l cO ll ld il o l h~ reachcd as readers but only as " spec lalors a nd hearns. " 1 Laler crilics \Vho sough l a more ulilitarian drama tha n Castelvetro stiU ftlllnd his vicw üf lhe audience useful. si nce tlle accessibility 01' performance lo Ihe un lctlcred made it a potenti ally powerful instru ment ofinslruction. A n olllspoke n modern exam ple of this attitude may be foun d in lhe o pen ing 01' Slrindberg's preface to Miss .Julie, which caHs the theatre a ".Biblia Pauper um, a Bible in pictures for lhose \Vho cannot read what is written or prin ted." Among Ihis pres umed audience Strindberg lists theyoung, the semi-educaled , allll women "who still have a pril1lili ve capacity for decei ving themselves and allowing thcmse\ves to be deceived .'" Sim ilarly, Croce sees the value of stage performance In its making the written text available in some measure '·to I hose who cannot or J o not know how to read it. "C, The idea of performance a S iHustratoion has dearly contrihuted lo lhe passion \Vith which many experimental artists and theorists of thi s century !J¡IVC rejected the text, whose crushing dominance according lO lh is theory I degatcd those who enjoyed theatre to an aesthetically lower c\ass, and made :In élutonomous art of the theatre impossib1e. A pi oneer in such rejecti on \Vas Edward Gordon C raig, who in 0 11 lhe Arl o(lhe Theatre expressed a wi ll illgness to accept the proposilion that Shakespeare's plays had no necd 01' slaging. Ffomlel, he says, was complete when written , and "for us to add to it hy gesture, scene, costume or dance, is to hint that it is incomplete and needs I hcse additions." For that very reason, he argues, thea tre should reject the Iraditional texts , to which performance can add nothing significan\. a nd dcvelop its own independent art ofcolor, ¡ight, rhythm . and abstraet fo rm .7 A IIlajor part orthe subsequent avant-garde, both in theory and in practice, has Illlllld Craig's slicing of this Gordian knot an extremely attractive basis upon which to develop a modern al1 01' the theatre. Al Ihe same ti me, other modern theorists have attempted 1"0 maintain the ulJ.:a of organic unity in the text without either reducing performance to the hllll1ble role 01' illustration or following Craig's radical pa th 01' separa Lion. I )II,~ popular strategy has been to represent the text-performance relation \\Iil la Ihe metaphor of translation rather lhan ill ustration. An early twentieth \ clllllry champion 01' this approach was Stark Young, whose reviews and Ihl'orelical wrilings frequently speak ofthe necessary re-creation in theatrical 11'1'I11S 1101 only ofliterature, but of other arts - architecture, costume, and music wlH.:n Ihese become art in lhe theatre. Young writes: " a \Vord , a sentence, ',pll k,:11 in lhe lheatre has rrom that moment been recreated in new terms and IJlIlsl sland él new test. It b no lo nger a wo rd 00 a page but is translated now 11i10 a m'W mcd ium , the lhcatrc."x T his wa y 01' d ea ling with wri tten text and I'~' I rtl llllanCl~ ha ~ hecn n':l:cn11 )' wiuely employed in thca trc semiotics, sinee Illiln y 01' ilS L'ril icallllnls, dCI ivnl lmm Ii ngu istics, scem highly appropriate to
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a view (JI PCrl O llll :l Jll:C a lld M: lIpt as IWll dillcrcl\ l l'\IIItIl IIl IIl\'oII I\ 1I1 syskllls hdwecn whkb ccrta ill lllcssagcs tníg hl be " Irallsfa lcu ," Man..' p Jl' Marinis, flll cxam ple. a pprouc hcs the s p~ctad e as a <;ort of "IC\I:' wl th Ils l!W Il ~i gniry ing systems !:>e parate fro m those 01' Ihe wri tten text.'¡ T he lheorisls who fo llo w this approach are in part interesled in clcvaling performance to a position 01' aulhenticity eq ual to that of th e wri Uen text, b ut the parallel to tran slation does not cn tirely achieve this end. Tite mo re li te rally one takes the linguistic anal ogy, the more onc foregrounds tlJe script. the very thing these theorists are attempting to a vü id. T heir model is condi tioned by tbe no rmal pres uppositions 01' thcatrical production, in which t his so-ca llcd Iran slalion runs always fro ro scri pt to perfonnance and not vice versa : such a situa tion necessarily privileges the script as defin ing the origi na ry parameters of the translation amI makes performance subservicnt not on ly temporariJy, but artistically , since it is unusual indeed for a translation to be considered aesthetically superior to its origi na l. Both Croce and Pira ndello speak 01' performance as translation , but for both this term is a pejorativc one. Pirandello remarks, "So many actors, so many lranslations, more or !ess faithful, more or less fortunate, but like any 1rans!a !iOI1, ollVays and neces sarily inferior to the origina l. " 10 The tra nslalio n analogy raises technical problems as well, since in fae t the written text is " transJated" into theatrical terms only in a very special sense. True, words are spokell instead of read , an important phenomenological shift, but they remain the same words . The original is in one sense changed, but in another it is literally embedded in its own presumed translation. T his brings us back to the paradox 01' organic unity in theatrical \Yorks. U na ble to accept the idea 01' one harmoniously unified work 01' art embedded within another, the illustration theorists, as we have seen, essentially denied this uni ty to performance, making it a largely su perfluous addition. T he opposile position, however, has also been ta ken- that organic unity is achieved on/y in performance, and that the text as written is incomp!ete. This might be called the theory 01' performance as fultl11me nt, and it also has attracted many adherents in the present century . A n early American ch a m pion o f this position was Brander Matthews, who wi th his students carried on nn extended debate wilh such Crocean theorists as J oe! Spingarn. In Engla nd theorist-directors Ashl ey D ukes and Harley Granville- Barker similarly ca lJed for un end to the idea 01' a completed wrilten text whose "rigid conceptio n" could nn!y stifle the essential creativity 01' other theatre artists. What m ade Sha kespeare great, they argued in direct opposition to critics like Lam b, was not that his plays were complete as written, but that they were incomple le in a particularly imaginative way. H e wrote " not to dictate, but to con tri bute: not lo im pose but to colla bo ra le." creating charactcTS an u sit ua lio ns whid l wou ld stimu late cre
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01' lite dr;lm ;t lic lex ! as "tfO/l L' ," a:- ;r l11essage comici ously crcatcd with " !toles" whidl are to be fillcu by a ll l)t hcr I11cssage-tex t, that 01' the mise-en-scene." he lwo approaches to performance, as fulfl11menl an d as illustration, pose oppnsit c Iheoretical problems. Th e one privileges the uni ty of the written Icxt , thcrcby unJermining a ny parallel c1aims by performa nce, but lhe o tber, hy priv ileging performance, similarly undermines the written pla y. Many fulllll ment theorists frankly speak of the w ritten text as botb incom plete a nd inadequate. Some wo uld allow the " h oles" to be fi lled in by the theatrieally imaginalive rea de r, possessing something a.kin lo whal F ra ncis Fergusson ~~allcd " h istrionic sensi bility," but others would agre~ wi th M atthews that IIntil the play physically a ppea rs on the stage it remains lacki ng in somcthing ~:ssential, despite whatever satisfactions it may providc for the reader. More recently another, and perhaps more fr uitful \Vay 01' expressin g this problem atic relationship has been offered in the writings 01' Jacques Derrida . particularly in the discussion 01' Rousseau and of the supplemen t in 0./ (;rammal%gy. Throllghout Ro ussea u's writings Derrida finds a tensi on, high lighting the supplement. AIl the ma nifestations of culture-a rt, image, reprcs l'ntation, convention- we.re in Rousseau's e.yes supplemenls lO Nature, which in his neo- Platonic vision , were alien to, inferi or to, and unnecessary to Natu rc's ()Wll totality. R ousseau 's conJ emnation ofthe stage derives from this view 01' Icality. Like those theorists who have considereu performance as illustration , Irl' attempted to deaJ with the staged playas " a pure and simple add ition , a ¡·OIüingenee." 14 Rousseau, hO\vever, did nol merely find thi s add itioll super IlllllUS, but actively threatening to Nature's presence and plenitude (li ke lhe "dangerous supplement" 01' onanism) and hence to be stoutly resisled. "fhe main thrust 01' Derrida's critique is to demonstrate the impossibility. l'wn within Rowiseau's own terms, of sei zing the natural in its presumed miginal, unsupplemented formo Everywhere in Rousscau, as Derrida demon stralcs, lIncontaminated Nature is revealed as a myth, a construct 01' desire. rhe supplement does not appear \Vith performance's repetition , nor \Vith the w.. ilten text. Nature itself is always already involved with the supplement. Tite concept of the supplemellt, as theorized by Derrida, provides a new wuy 01' thinking about several 01' lhe key paradoxes which bedevil theories of pe rforma nce as illllstration , translation, or fulfillment. Derrida insists upon two separate, somewhat contradictory, yet equally essential significations "r this concept. First, the supplcment " adds itself, it is a surplus , a plenitude , ' 111 iclting another plenitude, the[ullesll1IeaSlIre of presence. It cumulates and ,wl"lllllulates presence." Second , it " adds only to replacc . lt intervenes or IlIsil1l1ates itself in-Ihe-place 0(; if il fills, it is as if one fills a void. "15 I'nllmmmce illustrates adl11irably this do uble dynamic. Illustrati o n lhcorists lla ve s trcsscJ lhe firs t sign ilk ation, pe rforma nce as so methin g "addcd on" .1 slI pplcmcllt jni llcJ tu [hc a lrcmly cx isting plenitude 01' the wri lten tex!. 1' lIllilll llCllt th cor i.q .~ ll ave ,, " ~'s'il'd tite v thcr sig ni(jcat ion. 0 1' performance as k"1
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slI pplcmen l in Ihe sense ol lilli ng a vO ld , pcrlt,l[h ~vtl, :1 \llI d 111'1 appa rell t unlil lhc performancc Was crea k d. Jj l..c Ihé Mlpplcnll!II I, pc d llll lla m:c i~ ncc¡,;s sarily engaged in this SlI bversio n 0 1' lhe ill usiol1 l)t' pleni lud \.! in lile w ríllc lI text , and lhis is doubtless wh y ROllsseau , anJ nol a r¡,;w ~ubscqucnl litcrary theorists, have opposed it so determined ly . Roge r Laporte. in disc ussing the concept 01' lhe supplemen t, uses a wc ll known F rench dictionary as an exarnple. When a suppl ement is publi sheJ, il fo rces an adjustment of perception in bot h directions. Looking backward lO the ori gi nal publication , it reveaJs an incorn pleteness hi lllerto nol apparen! and look ing for ward , its very existence suggests tha t further supplernel1 lS are now possible and probably inevitable.I(, This particular d ynamic has m ueh in common with theatrical perfo rmance: a play on stage will inevitably dis pla materiallacking in the written tex t , quite likely not a pparent as lacki ng until the performance takes place, but then revealed as significant and necessa ry. At the same time, the performance, by reveal ing this lack, reveals al so a p Ol entially infinite series of future performances providing further supplemen ta tion. Thus is established the infinite chain of supp lements which, accordi ng to Derrida , " ineluctably multiply the supplemen la ry mediations that pro duce the sense of th e vcry thin g lhey Jefer: the rnirage of the thing itself," 11 the thing here being the original drama in its plenitude. This is why, as Tyrone G uthrie once observed , characters such as Haml et could be interpreted in thousands of ways and yet there never has been nor ever will be staged "the ideal perfo rmance which completely realizes the intentions 01' Shakespeare or Moliere or Eugene O 'Neill or whoever e lsc." INThe life of interpretation, a s Fo ucault observes, is the realization that there is no primal coherent set of signs, bul only interpretations.I'J This way of approaching the long-vexed qllcstion of the relationship between text and perform ance may scem at first disturbing, since it challengcs the strategy shared by each of the other approaches, a strategy that tends to C0 11 Ilate organic unity and plenitude and to insist upon this quality for the suc cessful aesthetic expcricnce. IlIustration theorists as a rule ass ume plelli tuúe in lhe written text, fulfillment theorists in the pe rfo rmance, each thereby necessarily subverting the grounds orthe other. Translation theorists attempl to sllggest equivalent plenitude on both sides 01' the relationship, while lhe concept of the supplement makes the counter-assumption, denying plen i tude to eithcr written text or performance. This strategy, howevcr threateni ng it may initially appear, can in fact provide a fresh pragmatic foundation for understanding the text-performa nce dynamic for both theatrc practitioncrs and literary seholars. Many of lhe fo rrner h ave long developed their wor k witb all intuitive understa nding 01' Derrida's insight, but fcw have becn wi IHng. li ke G uth rie, to challen ge openly Lhe widely-helú assul11 p tion origina ry tex.tua l pleni luuc. Lilerary scholaTs, o n lhe olher han u . have oflell been lIncomfo rtable wit h pcrfNmance, learrul o r il¡; arparelll IClld l'IICY lo unúer mine I he objcct nI" thei r primary in teres!. The ClIl1C~: p l ul Ihe ~ ll p ph;rnc ll t
"voiJs Ih\.! prohlcms a ll c llIl:I lIl IIpOIl privil cgi ng ci thcr pe rfo rmance or wril h.!n te>.t, pro bklll s ilH.:v ilably a rising I"ro!11 each of the previ ous type" of llleorics. M o rcovcr it prov íJcs sOl11e underslanding 01' why plays in facl can (Jlrer rieh ex perienccs in both stud y a nd o n stage. A t Ihe sa me time, it Ie-aves alldienccs and readers with the realizatio n, potenl ia Jly saddening b ut in fact fillcd with excitement and promise, that not all that this pla y has to sa y has bcen said , that other diffe re n t b ut equally rich experiences with il a re alwa ys possihle. A nd ¡sn 't this after all what keeps the audienee éUld lhe reader as well returning to favorite plays with ever-fresh anticipation, not 01' sim ple rcpetition of pas t pleasure, but of a lways evolving fresh Constel la tions of l'xpcricnce?
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Notes 1 Johann Goethe , S¿imlliche W erk e (M unich, 1909- 1(20), 5:247. 2 See George C. D. Odel!. Sha!cespeare ji·o/JI Bell ertol/ 10 II"1'il1g , vol. 2 (New Yo rk : Dover, 1966) . ) Charles Lamb, "On lhe Tragedies of Shakes peare co nsidercd wi th refercnce to their fitness for stage representa tion ," in Crilical Es.w)'s !ir/he Ear~F N ineleel1lh Cel/lUry , ed. R. M. Aldcn (Ncw York: Scribner's, 1921), pp. 172- 73 , 175. 4 Lodovico Castel vetro, Poelica d'Arislole/e I'ulgariz::ala e .\POS/(I (Base!. 1576), p. 29. 5 Augw;t Slrindberg, Six Play s , transo Elizabeth Sprigge (Garden City: Doubleday. 1(56), p. 6 1. (, Benedetro Croce, COI1l'er.w/ziol1i crilü:he (Ba ri , 1929- 1(31). 3:72. 7 Edward Gordon Cra ig, 011 lhe An o( lil e Theofre (Ch icago: Browne's, 1(11), pp. 143- 44. X Stark Young, T he Thealre (New York: Hill and Wang. 1(54), p. 29. <) Marco de Marinis, " Le spettacol0 come testo. " versus 21 (September- Decem ber, 1(78),67. lO Luigi Pirandell o, "The
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There is a conceptual crisis in drama studies, a crisis reflected in the ways Ji f fercnt disciplinary sty1es approach q uestions about drama tic text~ , t hea tricaJ productions, a nd performance i.n general. In tbe introduction to Perjórman<:e and Cul/ural Politics, Elin Diamond provides an exemplary account of con temporary interest in perfo rmance and, in a gesture th Jcvclupl'd a viv id :ll:cO Ulll ,,1'
IIOlllh a111al i\:. 110 11 11 1\,: a I11\:.1 1 tl" II "'~:II]l l l:d . cere monial, a ntl I::vcryday-life pcr li lrOl:tnl:cs, ]lnfúnna m:cs lha l lI l~ pcar to dcparl from lhe
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D RAMA , PER FORMAT IVITY,
AND PER FOR M ANCE
W. B. WOJ'then
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art (<;chndJ e r) , alllJ pt:lror lllalll.:~ in cve lyuay Iili: (K.IJ,,¡ dl ' ) .1111.1 tl,,;orclÍl.'al invesli gal ions 01' iJcnl ily per form élll ~c ( Bulle r, (l('//rI/ '/ J/ (JI/llle). Yet Ihe b urgeo ning ofperformancc slutlies has nN rea 11 Ydar ilicd Ihe rcJa lio n bctwCCI1 clramatic texts and pcrfo rmam:e. As an object 01' and vehid e for sus la inctl theo re tical inquiry, dra matic perform a nce a rten emerges in per ronnancc Sludies marked with the vague contemptibi lity of 1he famili ar. As Richard Schechner p uts it in a now notorio us comment in TDR: H[TIheatre as we have known and practiced it- lhe staging of written dra mas-will be lbe ~lring. qua rtet of the 21 st cen lury: a bcloved bu t ex tremely lim ited genre, a subdivi sion 01' pe rfo rmance" (" New Pa radigm" 8). 2 I low practitioners of performance st udies a od of dramatic st udies under sta nd dramatic perform a nce is im porta nt. not bec.ause Schechner is wro ng, but beca use he is mainl y right. U nderstanding dramatic performance éU> a uthorized in a relatively straighlforwan.l way by a scripteo text does indeetl consign theater (ano criticism th a t lI nderstanos performance to be de1er mineo by the text) to some faded conceptual Levi ttown: dramatic perform ance is a series ol' aut horized reproductions, each plotteo on th e bluepri nt 0 1' th e authorial texL It may be that a t this moment in the history ol' cult ural proouctio n in th e West, the perfo rmance 01' pl ays i.\' residual , a mode 01' proouction fully inscribed wit hin a discourse 01' textual ano cultural au t hor ity (e.g. , Shakespeare or Beckett) that other kinds of performance are ablt: to engage in more resistant, o ppositi onal, emergent ways. The apparent t rop in g 01' performance by the text seems so evident, so dee ply rooted- despite A rta ud and his inheritors- in convcntional ways of describing, p roducing. ano evaluating Western dramatic performa nce that it is rarel y unpacked . Yet aJ though the sense of orama tic performance as a performance of a pl ay is widespread , as John Rouse remarks, just " what the word (JI' means " in thili c~) n lexl is " far from dear" (146). How can performance studies help move the literary conception of drama beyond the incapacitating notion 01' perform unce as a version of the tex!, a version emptied of Inultiplicit-y a nd am bigu it y Ihrough the process of (authorized) embodiment: altcrnatively, how m ight a rcl hinking 01' drama reinvigorate it as a mode 01' performance theory, a way 01' cxploring- not prescribing- the possibilities of performance? 'Iere I consioer two places where dcfinitions o f performance depem.1 on a n artificially narrow sense 01' the relation between texts and performa nces: lirst, literary oiscussions of performativity ano performance that develop J. L. I\ ustin ':-; account of speech acts and, second, the tribulation s oftext ualily a no tex tualized Ill odeb o f performance in performance studies, particu larly in performance ethnography. To ask how perform ance ofa text- a d iffi cult ph rusc in itsel f might be conce ived to investigate or retheo rize the prob k ma tics nI" pe rforma ncc, I condu ele with él gla nce at Saz Luhrrnann's recenl lilm lI'il/iall/ Sllllkt'.I'!I('arc ·s Romeo a nd Ju liet. Th o ugh IAlh n n;lItn 's work is a lillll perhaps givcn license beca usc it is nol licd 111 Ih~ In.l llal un lolQgy 111111 :1I'11U.:Is I.:Prtl llllH1 1I 1 1I1 t:rs l;¡lI di ll r. ~ 0 1' slaged dl':III1,1 11 ~'II.ll' I .' : :1 pllwer rul
I111'( 111.:1il.:il l \! lIl'otlll h:1 ", ill! 1111' ljll l... . :IIPII S I explote Ite r~. wilh ways o r relhi nk 111 1.'. tltl' rda lioJl s ul' alll ho ril'y Ilt il l iJll'ulI1I tcxts ano pcrformances.
( )m: way literary scho lars have aua pted their unuersta nding of texts to tbe "JlVirOlllllent 01' performance is by using A lIstin 's approac h to speech acls, workill g to see the performati ve meoiating between la ngu age ano modes o f dllill g. M lIch as literary scholars tend to see oramatic perfo¡wance as lapsed I\!ading derivin g from the pro per meanin gs prescribed by the text, Aust¡n is 11I1lorio llsly ske ptical 01' thea trical performatives. Ausli n. of eOllJse. finu s Ihculrical discourse peculiar1y " hollow"---" pcrformativc utter3nce wi ll , for I'"\ lI lIlplc, be in a peculiar lI'ar hollow or voio if said by an actor on the stage" I ':!) insofa r as it exem plifies a special c1ass of infelicito us utteranee in which Ihe lIlotives 01' lhe agent (" persons having certa in th o ughts or feelings " [15]) ,lIl' insincere or are not directly embodied in subsequent conduct (an utter ;lItl.:e can also be hollow in this sense if "introoUl;ed in a poem, or spoken in ,\l liloqlly" [22]). A ustin excludes sllch hollow utterancc from considera tio n Iill'ciscly beca use it uses language in ways he finds " parasiLic upon [lan ¡'lIagc 's] nOl1nal use- ways which ¡-all under the doctrine of the elio!alions of Iang llagc" (22). Oddly eno llgh, while A ll.stin 's cavalier dismissal 01' theat rica l pl'rformatives--holl ow to whom? in what sense?- now seems to d rive liter .11 y 'll lidies toward perfo rmativity and performance, it does so by asserting 1I!¡; peculiar holl owness of oramatic theater. Several recent efforts to use A ustin to reclaim perfo rmance from oramatic Itrl'aler work in this way, segregating unscripted perfonnance from the tawdri ne,,:; nI' the stage to libera te performance (ano performance studies) from its 1Ir1\.'licilous connection to the theatrical (and to theater stlldies). Andrew Parker .111111 ':ve Kosofsky Seogwick , for instancc, use A ustin to chart a "convergence" 11l'IWCCll literary studies and performance studies that has pushed perform IIIVily "onto center stage" (l): " rf one consequence of thi s appreciation has 111'1.'11 a hcightened willingness to credit a performative dimen sion in all 1IIIIal. cercmo nial. scripted behaviors, another would be the acknowledgment 11 ... 1 philosophical essays them selves surel)' count as one sllch performative III/> Iance" (2). Whil e it ma y be a relief to sorne that philosophers are now IWl lmlllers, it is striking to think that literary scholars have only recently recog 1I1 /,l!d I hl~ pcrrorllla l i \'e aspects of ri tuals and ceremon.ies, a oevelopmen I they I.SlglI lo lhl: new antidiscipline 01' performance stlld ies. Accoroing lo Parker IlI d S..:dgwick, then ter studies. "[r]eimagining itself over the course of the past dn: ad..: ;IS Ihe wider licld 1)1" pe rformance stlldies," has " moved well beyond 111,· d assicalolltology 0 1' the hla l:k box mooel to embrace a myriad of perfo rm IIl h'l pr;wliccs. ranging I"r\)m 'lla gc lO Ih ti va l anu every thing in between ~ (2).3 Pal hel all d Scdgw ick's rtlWl.!1 flll n:ad ing l)r Austill qlleers felicitous per 1\1 I1I I:t li\' iIV. lk ll10 1l ~ll'lIlillp ils ~'IIIl ~li lll ,ivc p l'..:dicH ti on on l he "cliol a ted "
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meC'rwrlcd , Ih\! :lI líli ~' ¡; d IIII 1II II III II III d IhL~ .. hll Ul ma l, lhe uccaJc l11 . lhe ellele. the Jiscascu " ( S) Illl', ltll l ,1I perfll /mal/ cl: il exd uoes. ro r lhis rcason . thOl/gh, il is su rprising tha t in J csl..' lihing the dis cipli na ry evolution 01' theater studies into perfo rmance ~tudies Parker alld Sedgwick use a eontemporary thea trical con vention as a ::;ynecdochc rol' IhIJ ontology 01' theatrical per formance: in their view the theater ano thca lc l' studies are epitomized by the black box 01' modern stage realism. G ivcn Ih\! subseque llt discussi on of m a rriage as a form 01' conventiona l thcate r. it scel1ls evident th at what Pa rker and Sedgwick mean by " black box mod el " is llJ(! spatial and performance dynamics 01' modern prosceniu m perfo rma m.:e, ¡¡ performance mode lhat em erged barely a centu ry ago, at the juncture 01' l h!.! famili ar social, acsthetic, and techno'logical (e\ectricity) pressures 01' Weslenl industrial modernism: a darkened auditorium, a bourgeois drama, perfo rm ance conventions that confine the play behind the fourth wall 01' a box sel onstage. (1 n contemporary theater, of eourse, a black box is a small lhcatc r space susceptible to multiple configurations and so to various ways of shap. ing the stage-audience relation; in this sense black-box theater d oes nol have a proseenium . W hether th e blaek box- Iet alone the modern prosceniull1 house- defines the "c1assical ontology" 01' lhea ter seems open to question . ) 19noring theater studies' long-standing interest in dramatic, festival, a nu popular performam.:e-as well as in the stage production of eras suth as th!.! nineteenth eentury, often overlooked in accounts 01' dramatic litera ture Parker and Sedgwiek enact a typical1y literary disciplinary investmen t in textually motivated forms of modern theater as definüive of theatrical pro ducti on . Con fining theater to the black b ox of modern stage realism, Parkcr and Sedgwick take p erformance studies to confirm theater as an essentia lly reproductive mode; they view theater as a parasite on the dramatic text, m ueh a s A ustin saw it as a parasite on language. O espite this disciplinary prejudice , Parker and Sedgwick nonethclcss read Austin in a way that imagines a more subtle and adequate rela tion among drama, theater. and performance. Oeveloping the rcading of Austi n in Oerrida's "Signatu re Event Context ," Parker and Sedgwick note tila 1 Austin 's exc1usion of theatrieal diseourse from ordin a ry performance fi nally predicates perfo rma tive lÚterance on the "holl ow" citationality characteri stic of the stage. Parker and Sedgwick open the terrain of the performative by deconstructing Austin's opposition between "normal" and etiolated perform ance, between the fc1icitously performative and the theatrical: performati w speech cannot be distinguished from the " hollow" utterances of the stage 00 the basis of originality, as though nontheatrical speaking were aUl hcntk and nonrepetiti ve. Performatives can work felici lously only to the extcnt l hu! they, like thea trical performa nce. are reiterable, thal they sign ify Ulfough a process 01' Ci u llion; utteranccs perfoml action:; o ul y wh en they ilerate fam ili a r verba l or beha vorial regimcs. But w hilc l hi~ dcc~lnsl r llcli¡1n rcvcals IlIl' I.!Í taliona l "ho ll C'w ncs!\ " of on.linary langu agc pcrrum 1i·1I iw'l il dl lc~ nol scCI11
I'arkcr and Sedgwick argue that the perform ative force of ma rciage is enacted /lot by the Austinian utterance, the text " 1do," but by the ways this utterance kxl , performed within the ceremony, cites and so reenaets the institutions 111 nlll1pulsory hetcrosex uality. Marriage is "like a play" to the cxtent that il (1 1 likc modern realistie theater, a theater whose eonventional " relations 01' V/'.; ihility and spectatorship," as Brecht long ago rccognized , mas k the ideo11I!'ical labor behind its claims to versimilar representation: "Like the most l llllvcntional d efi nition 01' a p lay" - o r , more precisely , like the working of IlIuJc rn realistic plays in a mode of production associated with proseenium 1I,,'atrica.lit y that Parker and Sedgwick take to be the "conventional defini 11011 0'- a play"- "marriage is constituted as a spectac1c that denies its audi \ lI l'l'. the ability either to look away from it 01' equalIy to intervene in it" (11). I'arkcr and Sedgwick brilliantly rethink the working of Austin's ilIocutionary 1 do "; it gains its force not because it is an utte rance of a text, not because 1111' words themsc\vcs accomplish a n aetion , but beeause the "1 do" cites amI ',.. r~p rod uces an cnlire genre 01' performance. That this performance- lhe "'l' rI.:ivc ci ta tion 0'- h Cleron or m ali yi l y-i~ epitomized as p roscenium theater Il'vcals ltow Pu rk~r nnu ~cugwic k cO ncei ve of Lheater an J h ow they positi on Ihl'a hn rcla li vl! tn pcrfnrlllanc\.;
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l\' lkratiun ofvariuus idco logkal a nu behavorial regimes, theatrieal pe rform .llIn: in I he enn ventional literary sen se assumed by A ustin and by Parke r ."Id Sl:d gwick is understood principalIy in literary terms, as a mode 01' "pl.·ok in g scri pled words. The thea ter. in this sen se, is unde rstood to si gil i.fy 111 illcipall y by rciterating the dra matic text (a m ode 01' citation tha t renders I hca lcr peculiarl y " holJ ow" ), n ol by deplo ying scripted language in lhe COIl 1IIIIli vc eitational behaviors proper to the circumstanees 01' utterance, here lo, the slage. But is it langllage. Lhe text, that motivates the force of dra matic (le rformance? Is it, in other words, the dramatic text that the eitational pClfo n n a nces of the theater cite? l'arker and Sedgwick's sen se of theatcr and theatrical performance is dlall1atized in their cann y examination 0 1' A ustin's reliance 011 t hc m ari tal vow ("1 do") as an ins tance of performative speech (ilIocution), 01' marriage itself as theater- m arriage as a kind offourth waH or in vis ible prosccnium areh that mo ves throllgh the wor1d (a heterosexual couple secure in their right to hold hands in the street), continuall y rcorienting around itself the surrounding rc\ations of visibi1ity an d spectatorship, ofthe tacit and the explicit, ofthe p ossibility 0 1' imposs ibility 01' a gi ven person's articulating a given enunciatory positi on . ( 11 )
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lheulcr lltl~ sik ll l iluu kllCI.: h n llh l hi l ¡'~l.:d bdún: tll \: pIIN'l' ll illlllll :lI lll: WIt CI l! C1l1lhe ad ion is (f~, h;d); un ' ludi<.:ncl! n:mlwl:d rrlJ llI pallll'lpal ioll , I'WI1l visib ilityo co nsum ing the spcctade I'rom thcir indiv id ual scals: a darkl: llcd lhro ng ofindividualjz ed sllbjects d isciplined b y a nd into Ihe ill u~ ion ol'com mu nily to epitomize dramatic theater itself. Red ucing theater lo the charaClc ristic ideo logical apparatus of modern real ism, Parker ami Seugwick's stage is fi nally the emblem of powerful yet cocrcive con ven tionality (as, of co urse. l11 uch modcrn theater is)o " Wh en is sayin g something doing somethi ng? And how is saying somc thíng doing somethi ng?"- as P ar ker and Sedgwick im ply, one of the prob lems of modeling dram a tic per formance 0 11 A us tinia n perfo rm al ivity is tha t pCTformance is reduced to the Performa nce of language, words, as though dramatic performance were merely, or most essentiall yo a mode of utterance, the (infelicitous) production of speech acts (1) . The conundrum that Parker a nd Sedgwick enact here has to do with their view of dramatic performa nce or the mode of utterance known as acting- a s a straightforward citation of the dramatic text and nontheatrical performance (the marriage eeremony, for example) as a mode of citation that extends welJ beyond the text ("1 do "), that reconstitutes the meanings 01' the text instead 01' being determined by those meanings. Indeed, it is in this distillction that Parker and Sedgwick's rethinking of speech acts holds the most promise for a relhinking of dramal ic perform a nce. For while theater remainS fo r them a peculiarly hollow sign 01' how socia l hegemonies are re produced thro ugh a con ven tional apparatus of visibility (the proscenium and the realislic modes of dramatic narrative and alldience interaction it shapes), the marriage ceremony provides a search ing model ofthe relation between texts ("1 do") and performances , a model mo re adequate to the task offiguring dramatic perform a nce. It is not Ihe text tha t prescribes the meanings of the performance: it is the construction of the text within the specific apparatus of the ceremony that creates performative force . The performance is not a citation of the tex!. The ceremony deploys the lext- al1d mlleh else- as part of an elaborate rciteration of a specific vision of social order: the meaning of the performance depends on the citation no t 01' the text but of the regimes of heterosexual socialization, on the interplay among a specific tex\' individual perforl1lers, the "material,jty and historical density ofperforma nce " (Diamond , Introdllction 5), and the web ofperform ance practices that constitute the performance as a meaningful citati on . Although the thcater is , for Parker and Sedgwick , still hollow, their d isc lls sion of nontheatrical performance suggests that drama tic performance shou lJ be released from the charge of " obeisance" to the playwright's or the text's allth o rity (Dia l1lond, 'ntroductiol1 3). Perfo rming recollstitutes the text; it does not ccho, give voicc to, o r tra n slat~ the tex t. Pe rformance docs not ci te the lext
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il docs so " tu tlli.' C'l ll' l1l 111.1111 t!m ll',I' 0/1 IlfUl (' Ol'{"'S olla Ihc COIl con vc nliol\s by whid l it is ITw hili¡.cd " (B utler, Ex ciwhle ¿;,iJccch 51). 1I as IlIu ll l1 Il ut Jc r a l'gucs ill l1 ef critiquc a l' lhe perloclltionary c1.a ims of ;llItipo n wgraphy censorship, "Ihe perfo n nativ ily of the text is not under .~ p vc rc i g ll conlrnl" (6l)), then Iht~ meanings oftheatrical performance cannot h(,' atlrihuted to the sovereign conlrol of the dramatie text. Does stage per forlllance opcrate citationaJlyo less as an uttering or iterating of a tex t Lll an aS ;\11 itcrating or the conventions ofperformance, wlúeh aceumulate " lhefórce ~ Illll t ivc
,,(u/./lhority Ihrough Ihe repel iliol1 01' cilaliol1 ola prior and aUlhoritativc se l (~f I'/'I/clices" (51)? As a citati onal praetice, dramatic performance - like all o ther
pL'rrormance- is engaged not so much in citing tex ts as in reiterating its own rl!gimes: t hese regimes can be understood to cite - or, perhaps su bve rsi vely, hl rcsignify- social and behavorial practices that operate outside the theater ;111(\ Ihat constitute contemporary social lire. The citational practices o f the ',I age- acting styles, directorial conventions, scenography- operatc o n and 1I 1I I1sform texts into something with perrormative force : performances, beha viII!'. The invocation of Austin tends to associate theatrical performance wilh speech and so Ieads incluctably to the portrayaI 01' a perfonnance's rela 1iOIl to the dramatic texl as a kin lO Austin's account of an utterance's re\a tion ID language: dramatic tlleater is understood as a perlocutionary medi um , 111 which the performance onstage is a direct consequence of performatives Ills~...ibed in the tex!. This application 01' performativity to dramatic perform ,IIItT reinforces the sense that performances are scripted by their texts and '11 , r~~prodllees both traditional and recent disciplinary contro versies among dI ama studies, Iheater stlldies, and performance studies. A more consistent IlTcading 01' Austin , an application ofthe deconstruction 01' '' 1 do" not o nly lo social actions bul to dramatic performance as well , would relocate the IlI llction of the text in the performance, conceive the text as material for ¡a hm, ror the work of production . Although drama tic performance uses Il' xls, il is hardly authorized by them: to preserve this c1ail1l i8 to preserve the o,; llSC 01' dramatic performance as a hoJlow , even etiolated, species of the lilnary ,
11 the ways both literary studies and performance studies have miscon drama tic performance is by taking it merely as a reiteration oftexts, a \ Ilatill n lhat imports literary or textual authority into performance. In part hn': illI se perfo rmance studies shares this lilerary sense of dramatic theater, 11 Ila s successfu ll y in voked ethnographic models of ritual and everyday-Iife 1lI' I1 11vin r as a way lo redeflllc pcrlo nmUlce in explicitly nonliterary and non f\ 11'<1 II J\: .. I tcnm. Nul sur prisingly. pcrltaps, C lifTord Gecrtz's readings o f cullure 1 , k xt whích lla ve hccn inll ucnlla t in lhe r rac tiec nI' ncw hi:¡lor i<;ism and in '1 1. Illorpll inl:' II 11 l1 l.!Ul l llral IHIL'I I\.S pn¡v idl: a d din ing rHlin l \) 1' conlcnlion. ( )Il e 01'
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rO l whi lc Lile 1 ~~ llI a Ii /U l lIlll u l l' lIlt \lf~ \,' tl.lh tl'd I l tl"lol l~ ,,," lt l'~ !tI ¡,(1: 11I.'I,tI izc il1 lc rpn:livc pIUdH:~S I'n " 11 h.:x l:-. lo () II1\:f I1I1CIIIII III. lIil , 111,' l'th n\II:!J lIphll' a p proaches in vokcu in pCrl únnalll;c s tudi ~!) have Cllllh: t,1 ' l!sisl rcadi ng p\:r form anccs as lexts, In pa r!, Ihis hc!)italinn SICIll!) I'rom a la uda ble dcsl rl' no l In pri vilege the dramatic Iheatcr oflhe Wesl as a paradigm ofperforrnance: nl)1 only , ofcourse, are ma ny non-Western performance ro rrns no ntex t ual , b ut ill many of those that use texts- No, for cxampl e- lhe text d oes nol ru nction;rs it does in con ventional Western tbeater. But this resis ta nce is sometimes a\s" driven by suspicion regardi ng writing's implica ri o n in the re produclion of authority and conseq uen tly in lhe reprod uction of social hegemonies . Resisl ance to a textualizi ng elhn ol ogy is modcled , in olher words. on the d iulectic betwecn a uthorized texts and resistant performances tha t inforrns Parkc r aml Sed gwick 's understanding 01' performalivity. In this view- elegan tly argucd by D wight Conquergood ("Ethnograph y, R he toric" a nd " Rethinking Ethnogra phy"}- G eertz's textua'l model o f c ul ture embodies a profo und desire to represent other cultures within Westem epistemologies. Geertz typically takcs the '\:ulturc of a people" as "an en semble 01' texts, themselves enscmbles, which the anthropologist strains tn rcad over the shoulders 01' those to whom thcy properly belong" (452). T hc Ba linese cockfight, lo ta ke Geertz's cclebrated example, does
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G ce rlz dearly articulates the practices of other cultures with the role 01' \iteralure in the West, but what uisturbs Conq ucrgood abollt the tex tualizalion of culture is a more fundamental problem. Ethnography, to the ex tent thal il reads th e c ulture of nonliterate societies as texts, prolongs él colonizin g pro jeel, modeling the epistemologies of the other in Western terms. Conquergood argucs that to regard culture as a text and to represent it in writing is lo represenl the processcs of other cultures not only in terms of Western ways 01' knowing and represcntation but also in forms -writing, texts- tha t have often been uscd to dominate and exploit them. 6 C onquergood calls for ethnography instead to use performance as h()\h a mode 01' investiga tion ami a mode 01' representation . H e rema rks Lh a l "pc rrormance-scnsit ive elhn ograph y" alters rhe " po we r dynami c of lhe re sea reh sil LlUl ion ," wh ich " eha nges whc n lhe elhnog raphc r IlHlve:¡ rrom lhl! ga/,c o f Ihe di stanccu a no dctad lcd o bserver lo Ihe in l¡mOlle illvo lvemcnl and cngilgctllclll (1 1' 'ctlólcl ivily' ~) r t:o-pCr rn rIlIUIlCe wit h Ili"lo\ iI,,'ally silllatcd ,
1'" , I'vl al'l.:us lIo les. Ihe chUllgilll' HIN CIl- IiCÓ le" 1I1' ~ lhlH)g raphic n:prescnt4Jlion ,Is'il)cia lcd "wilh the writilll! \It JU lllCS (' Iiflord ami loosely d eri vcd from I\ l ik ha i! BlI khtill 's lloliollS 01' po lyphnny anu dialogism as an alte rnat ive lo the IlHlIIlIlogic
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what, for other peoples with other temperaments and other con ventions, L eal' anu Crime Clnd Punishmenl do; it catches up these themes--death, masculinity, rage, pride, 10ss, beneficence, chance and , ordering them into an encompassing struclu re, prescnts them in such a way as to throw into relief a particular view of their cssential nature . (443)
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IU W hat are dramati <.: pe r rormances perrorm ances (~f? O ne of the most d isabling aspects 01' performa nce t;n lil.: islTl of' dra ma is the wa y il- te nds or until rc<.:cn rl y has lended lo rcga rd lhe pcrlo ml a ncc as a rCildillg.. illl l'rp re tati o ll , rcaJ izaliol l o(lhe text (or, I11l1ch lhe SUl lllO tlling. f!/ lhe rluv 0 1 its pll lelll iuli lics l ll . l'u r cxa mp le. Sha kcspca rc) . To say Ih a l a rll' I I'lIl lli lll\'~' 1 ~ ,.{ , 1 I('XI is
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1I11lllCdi il lcly In 1'l':l..'ng nil.l.! Iha l it·, , da liPII lo Ihal lcxt is L'xlrcllldy lcnllOllS: a pl' rlu n ll Llll cc is 1101 tlslI ll lly (JI' ulle k X( in an y direcl SCllse, sincc a number 111 dilfe rCll1 vcrsi n ll s 01' a cla;;sie pla y Illight be cOllsulted as part 01' the pro dlll'lioll pmcess a nd ma ny scripls are produced and used in lhe process of :-. hapin).!. a play. In contemporary tex.t ual scholarsh ip , the widcspread inter IIlgul ioll orhow lexls constitllle authority wO llld make slIch a c1a im simjl a rl y plObkl11atic (see McGann: Born stein and Williams; Shill ingsburg; Grigely; Maslrn). The lext is absorbed into the multifarious verbal and nonverbal discnurses oC theatricfll production, transformed into an cnliTel y incommen Nurable th ing, an event. Texls in the theater are alwa ys more Iike the phone hl)ok lh an like Ham/el: they are transfo nued by the performative env iron 1l1l~ 1l1 of the theater into something else, a perform an ce. O ne fun ction of I'I lIlventional theater is to assert the rhetoóc oC0(: an assertio n that is bound IIp in con ye ntions of performance rather tha n in an essen lial relation betweeo h'xls and enactments. The prob1cm ofdramatic theater's citationality is a complex one, and many dlal11atic pcrformances (hose-and-doublet Shakespcare) are illscribed with ,llllhorizing gestures: they use acting, costume, direction, tbe eotire mise L'1l-scene 10 c1aim an authority located in a certain understandi ng of a text. ;1 gcnre, a perform a nce tradition, a mystified author. Performa nces do not :;iL'llily by citing texts. A performance creates a sensc 01' "proximity" (to th e. I¡,:.xl , to something else) as part 01' its rhetorical deployment of contempora r l'I lIlwnlions ofperformance, as a \Vay ofc1aiming "something we value."RAs 1hl'loric, such gestures are hardly confined to drama tic performance. Theatr Ical production--which recasts and so re-creates thc script in another idiom , ,IS speech , gesture, Of action that is entirely incommcnsurable \Vith notions of I he (exl itself- shollld not be seen as distinctively preoccupied with que.stions 111 alllbority. Such a vicw ignores the discourse ofauthentication surroundi og ;1 variely of performance and perfonnance-a rt forms , not only lhe work of IIlllllOloguists like Spalding Gray and Karen F inley, but also tha t of Anna 1)cavere Smith- whosc elaborately dcpcrsonalized miming of her intcr " i¡,:w subjects m ay recall James Clifford's critique of "Geertz's a brupt dis .Ippcarance into his rapport" (40 - 4I )---or pcrformances that appear to cite .1 pcrsl)llal relation to the subject matter (Annie Sprinkle comes to mind) . 111 a ll Ihese cases, performance is performatiye in Butler's sense, working , l ', a " ri lualizcd practice" that "drall's on ami COVeI'S over the constitutive , ullvelltions by which it is mobilized" (E .x(;i1ahle Speech SI) ; sometimes those ,llllvclltions SlIll11l10n an illusory textlial authority, sometimes they do not. So what optiúns are there ror repositioning the text within an understand 111" nI' Ihe work 01' d ra ma tic pe rlo rmance? Is it possible, as Joseph R oach IIr~es ts , lo scc pe rfoml1tncc dra l11 atic. pe rforrnance- " as an alternative or .t t. ll ppkmcnl to tex tual I11cd iati o n" (" Kinshi p" 22 1)'1 Roach is tal king here l h o u t l'el l'oulla tivc lescl ll c h all d d isseminu lil1n, bul I wan t lo take him in a dll k rC lI1 scnse, (lne
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O/il',\' II/I //(' On/(/ (l \ ) . T () Ruadl. Jl\! rl ()l1I la ll ~'~' ~·. III I,\: d l".~ 1 dwd as sun 0 gt l lio n,
!JI(
a sit \.' u f' pa s~¡¡A1.c Ill" a WI" ~ 1,1 II IClil l lI ll'. a ~I t e in wlJlch i nsta bl li lic~ ar\.' Iwth lIIaJe éJ nd madI,! II1Hn ilC..,t" ( 11Ioi). (i rígcly's ~C IlSC 01" the cultural itcral lOIl uf art wmks hrings d m m atic pc r!ün llanl:c doser 10 a n acl 01" su rrogation in Roach 's scn sc . Mueh as llam/l'l exists as a wo rk variously ilcra led in a lextual hi story as a range of prin ted , unp rin led, and hy pOtlH:ticaJ (Sha ke speare 's IlliInuscript) texts so it is also sllrrogaled in vario LIS forms , in innumerable audiola pe. videotape, film , ami stage pe rforma nccs. A pe rform ance 01' H om/el is no t a pe rformance ola text. Instead , il uses a tex t (usua ll y a palim psest of texts) of Hamlet within a specific selection of available regimes of production (acting style; set and costume des ign ; lhe representa lional rheloric of s tage, film , or video ) to perform a new ilerati o n 01' Ham /el,
\) H /1. M ¡\, l' IJIU t lIt \1 ,\ I I \' 1 t'\
surrogél ling Ihe bchavoria l n;gilllcs 0 1" 11 /¡O ',\ ,!Ilt/I/II!! , 11 ,&: /1/1,1 1J'00((" 111 place of Albee's dialoguc, lhe adors spl!a k fra gllll... lIls UI ;¡ WII IIIIIII a l
,\ N 11 l' I~ IU 11 1< M A N t ' 1;
. , 111 111\1 bla sl IIIl1slly q f I tlck ,d ll'l ¡l lIolll\'," 14(1). lu; rcgarus lhe perform ;IIICC'S :-. ucccss or fu ilu rc as a fUIICll\l 1l uf 11l1w wdl il reproduces thc tex t. I'hll ugh finall y pn;ll;rring 1.llhl'lll 11 nn 's a pproach to T revor Nu nn's "fiddling" wilh dccor in FlI'c//il, N~~lrl, Kaurrmann sees Luhrma nn as "in effed doing a 11 ans!atilln, allllost as if he had rendcred the text into F in nish or Bulgari an , wilh a rewl~n glish wisps rcma ining as souvenirs 01' the origin " (42). 1hnv docs W i//iall1 S /wke.l'peare·s Romeo anJ J uliet represent the rela tion Iwtwcen texls
11 \.\11 11\1 _1'1 "
poulltull whCl'e 1{ (lllH:O h;lIlgS ' Iul ; a sigll ror .. I he M~II I l.t lll o l Y('IOII
II P
nI( A M" . l'I ~ IU l ill( M 1\ 1' 1\' 1' 1 \ ' . ¡\ N .,
"j ' IU oR M i\ N( ' 1
\'JI\! drollll,1 call hl.! prmlt H;~d WlIIIIII a wch \ll' d laú\.>n bl: il MTV, modern Il:ali'im. 111\: p(l s l- lJ rcdHlan -quasl - M~ lhou compromise 01' mosl Shakespcare lod;}y. L "~
Notes I'adicr vc rsions of this essay were discussed in él seminar at tbe 1997 Sbakespcarc !\ssociatioll annual conference and by tbe Performance A.na lys is wo rkin g group of 11 ..: Internationa l Federa t ion for Thca trc Resea rch; J am grateful to botb groups for 11¡('ir comments. 1 am especial1y grateful to Sbannon Steen for ber detailed response :lIId lo Barbara Hodgdon fo r ber comments on an earlier draft and for providing me wilh a copy of ber essa y befo re its publication.
I¡rom E . K. C ham bers throu gh G. E. Bentley (Drul11u/i.l'1 and Pluyer) to Andrew I..iurr (Playgoing and Shake.l'pearel/n SllIge), Louis M on trose, Je--an Howard , Stephen OrgcL and others, Shakes peare stud ies has long been occupied with interpreting the lllatcriaL economic, professional. and ideological workings ofShakespeare's th elltc r. This tradition has coexisted- sometimes uneasi ly- a lon gside efforts to understand Shakespeare through the medium of perforn1ance. For an overview of performance niticism of Shakespeare, see Thompson and Thompson; for a critique , see Bulm an, SI/(/k espear e. T heory, 1//1(/ Performance and " On Being Unfaithful. " T he Applausc Shakcspearc Library ha s recently enshrined the notio n that the tcxt contains all pOlcntial (Iegitimate) performances. E ach vo lume in the serics oITers "a continuolls ('lll1ll1lentary on the text " by an actor o r di,'ector that " sho\Vs what is demanded from actors- Iine by line where nece~sary-and points o ul what decisions about illlcrpreta tion have to be made" (Brown vi) . For a brilliant reading of the politics of "l1lbodime nt in Shakespearean film and stage performance, see H odgdon. , l'l'I'formancc studies owes much ofits institutional fo rmati on to Richard Schechner. wllo in 1980 founded the department of performance studies at New York U ni versity , havillg l1l oved there from Tulane U n ive rsity in 1967, and who rechristened Ihe f)ratna !. i ... ¡l y" :ltHl P('ljim l ll/l/('(, T/¡('ory; see also 111 \
\1'111 1'1 RI !JltMANI I
IIltAMA I{lla .:h, " Ki nship" .~ IX lO ), I~ cl;\; nt Iy, :-;dl l:dlll~'1 h , l~ 1>1 11..1111\'11 t I II ~N IIIII,'. 1I" :IIIl " posi tioll (se\! 'Tllctlln: itl lhe hVClll y- Fi rsl ('c nlllly"). 3 In an carlier ¡¡rlicle, "Quccr P.:rfúrmal tv il Y," Scdgwick st lllllarly undcrtak cs 111 Icveragc Ihe perfornwlivc away from "Ihe nolion 01' ti ~rrO rl1l11n l'C in lh.: defini nl' instam:e Iheatrical" (2) and 10 devclop this sensc of pe rrormativily lhrouglr arca d ing of Henry James ':; Tlle ArIo/lIle Nove!. 4 Like the theater, " the perfor mative has thus been rrolll its inc.:ption alr.:adv infected with queemcss" (Parker and Sedgwick 5). inspiring a convenliolléll slrain of antitheatrical prejudice as well (see Barish). 5 Indeed , as Judith Butler suggests, Ihe citation of legal precedents appears (evclI more than dra matic theater) to ground lhe meaning 01' a particular act in a priOl' tex!. while it in fact determines Ihe force 01' that texl in the momenl of the judgc's performance, thc étct of citation: "it is lhrough the citation of the law lhal the figUl'¡; ofthejudge's ' \Viii' is produced and that the 'priorit)" oftext ual a uthori ty is estab Iished" (" Critically Q ueer" 17). 6 For useful recent overvi ew;; 01' Geertz, sec G. E. Ma rcus; Sewell. 7 Despite Conquergood's delicacy, jt has become commonplace to associate an opposi tion to wri ting both with the uses of performance by margina lized or domin ated groups (lnd with the practice of performance studies as an academic discipline. A ~ Conquergood rernarked in his opening address to the 1995 Performance Sludic:, COllference, "Performance studies is a bo rder discipline, an interdiscipline, lhal cultivates the capacity to rnuvc between structures. to forgc connections , to $e\.' together, to speak with instead ofsimply speaking a bout or for others. Performa nlA! privileges threshold-crossing, shapc-shifting, and boundary-violating figures , such a ~ shamans, tricksters, and jokers, who value the carnivalesque over the canonical , Ihe transformative over Ihe normative, t'he mobile over the monumental " ("Caravans" 137- 38). This scnse of the oppositionality of performance studies is certainly o ~n to question (see Auslander) - how useful is it to have trieksters as colleagues. (lnd what is it that their tactics are resisting?- as is the sensc that perform ance is always about a liberating, carnivalesq ue. or even socially progressive transgressiOIl Conquergood 's sense that performance's affiliations \Vith rhetoric locate perfonn ance studies as "the new frontier for stakingjoint c1aims to poelics and persuasi on . pleas ure and power, in the interests of community and critique, solidarilY and resistance" (" Ethnography , Rhetoric" 80) might be set alongside George E. Marcus's reading of Douglas Holmes's fieldwork among the European far right and 01' his sense of that group's exploitation 01' " illicit discou rse" (102- 03). On perform ance studies' "foundational" opposition to texts, see Worthen, " Disciplines" ; D()lart, Response; Roach , Res ponse; Schechner, Response; ZarriUi , Response; see rlisí> Roac h, "Economies," and Dolan. "G eogra phies." 8 I am adapting Gary Taylor's sense of editorial practice as a science of proximi lY here, the sense that an edited text asserts its authority by claiming to be "[p]roximall' to something we value," a value that is articulatcd by the form and content 0 1' t J¡~, edition itself ("Rena issance" 129), On editorial and performance theory, see Wort hl,; ll , Slwke,lpe{/re 1- 43 . 9 "Texts may obscure what performance tends to reveal: memory challe nges hi~t o ry in the construction ofcircum-Atlantic cultures, and it revises the yet ull\vritten cpic of their fabulous cocrcation" (Cifie,,· 286).
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J'a ylll l', (.jary. R('il1 l'("lIill~ SIIrIÁ¡·,Y/JI ' III'(· . ,.j ('ulll,r,II 111.\1 fI 1 l ' Ir,,,,,I//(' N,'sl"r",i,,1/ lo rli,' Prc,w!lIr. N.:w York : O>.forú IIP, 1')')1. - - o"'!'he Rcnaissancc a nd the Enú 01' Ed iting." Bornslcin amI Wllli,um 121 -4<). Thompson, M,l rvin, and Ruth Thompson , cds. Slwkcs{J('(/re (¡IU/ tlle Scnsc o/Pa/ónl/ anee: EI·s(Jy.\' inlhe Tradilion ofPerformance Crilicism in llollor o/B em ard Beckerl//(/I/. Newark: U 01' Delaware P; London: Asso.:iated U P, 1989. Turall , Ke nneth. Rev. of William Shake,l{Jeare's Romeo and J uriet. Los Angeles Tim cs 1 Nov . 1996: F I+. Tu rner, Victor. From Ritual/{) Thearre: Tlle Human Seriousnes.l' of Play. New York: Performing Arts Journal. 1982. WalJ, Wendy. T/¡e ImpriTII ofGender: AI.ahorship and Pllhlieatiol1 in rhe Englislt Renaiss. once. Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1993. Warrcn, R oger. Staging S hake,lpeare 's Lale Plays, Oxford: C larcndon, 1990. When We Dead AlVaken. By Henrik Ibsen. Dir. Robert Wilson. AlIey llleatcr. J-tousto n, 22- 26 M ay 199 L Whigham, F rank . Amhiliol1 and Privi/ege: The Social Tropes ElizaherlU/11 Courtesy Thcory. Berkeley: U 01' California P, 1984. Whiuon. D avid. Moliere: Don Juan. Berkeley: U 01' California P. 1995. William Shake,lpeare's Ro meo and Juliet. Dir. Baz Luhnnann. Perf. LeonardQ DiCaprio aod C1a ire D anes. Twentieth Century Fox, 1996. Wo rthen , W . B. "Disciplines of the Text I Sites of Performance." TDR: The Drama Rel'iew: T/¡e Journal ofPeljimnance SIl/dies 39, I (1995) : 13-28. - -, Shakespeare a/1(1 Ihe AUlhorily I¿/ Peljimnallce. Cambridge: Cambridge UP. 1997.
or
Zarrilli, Philip B, Response to W . B. Worthcn's '"Disciplines 01' the Text I Sites 0' Performance." TDR: 7he Dmma Rel'iew: Tlle JOl/,.,.,al o/Peljárnwl1ce Sll/dies 39.1 (1995): 38- 41.
27
PR ESE N CE A N D THE REV EN G E
O F WR ITIN G
Re-thinking theatre after Derrida
Elinor Fuchs Sourcc: Pelj ól'ming Arl.l· Joul'na/9(2 1) (1985): 161 173.
Since the Renaissance, Drama has traditionally been the form of writ ing Ihat strives to ereate the illusion that it is composed ofspontaneous speech, a form of writing th at paradox.ically seems to assert the claim of speech to be a direct conduit to Being. That the dramatic Lext is realized only as spontane ous speech (and all that accompanies speech : cadence, emphasis, gcsture) is institutiollal ized in its teaching, English and Theatre going separatc aca dClllic roads, Thealre a nd Speech traditionally joining forces. This scarcely rCl] uires comlllent, but makes all the more striking the emergence of writing as subject, activity, and artifact- at the center 01' theatrical performance in numerous recent pl ays and perfo rmance píeces. Writing, which has tradi I iomLlly retired behind the apparent prcsence 01' performance, is openly dcclaring itself the environment in which dramatic structure is sitllated. The price of this emergem;e, or perhaps its aim , is the undermining 01' theatrical !'rcsence. The not ion 01' theatrical Presence has two fundamental components: lhe uniqlle self-completion 01' thc world of the spectacle, ami the circle af Itl~ightened awa reness flowing from actor to spectator and back that sustains Ihe worlel. (The lllagnetism that a particular perlarmer may exude, what we lIlean whcn we say a perfol1TIer has "presence," is included in this definitian.) rh e physico-spiritu loss \Vas IlrcaJy ::;ighlcd. ! n I hi ~ peri lld b()1h practilioners ami theorists became pas '"oliNh: advllcaks ('Ir I'rL:sel1¡';~ . dnd IH1wlu:n : mort! clll h llsia sticaJ1 y than in the I 111 i ICÚ
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sdl Ihal (, ultl ma ll Crrida , there is no primordial or self-same present that is not already illllltrated by the traee- an opening of the "i nside" of the moment to the "outside" of the interval. "That the presen t in general is not prim al, bu l 1
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Th e central action of Richard Nelson's 777e Vienl7C/ Notes, first produced io 1979 at Playwrights' Horizons in New York, is writing. ' \ Nclson 's Seoator Stubbs is dictating his memoirs, told as a moment to moment account of his sensations. At first Stubbs dwelI s on past events, but soon he is "writing hi m self" in the present: what sounds best in writing beeomes the only criteri on for what he does amI feels. A serio-comic terrorist attack unfolds on U1(.' Vielllla homc where he has becn in viLed to d inner; mistakeo I'o r the Sena l·OI'. the host has becn assassina ted o ffsUlge. T hrough lhc crnc rgt!n¡;y , Sl lIhhs kcers wrilülg- prcsent evenLS providc a mere neca siol1 ( Jllli kl: NP\." l,,'h I!l is wri lin c/
li t) vallll' liS" IlIillli lc ..lul io n u l' r n!Sl~n l'l: ; ils value emerges Iale r, wh en il a ppcan¡ aliena l.cd . a s il wcrl" pi ill led OH papel' in él hook . Prcscnlly Ihe o lhe r lwo churaclel's o nt;tage, S lubbs's secrctary R ivers and lhc ir AllIl:rie,1I1 hOstcs5 Gcorgia, catch the fe ver, and in an ecstasy 01' se lf alicllalioll, the three ta ke turns "writing" them ~c1ves to the others' supportive audicnee. Pencil and notebook are abandon ed , b ut il is writing all the same, a co mi c search ror Ihe righ t " scripI" with which lo cou n ter the irnmediacy of cvents. T h is continues un til gunshot bl asts rip the door off the hinge. In the linal sceoe, two year.s later, the eom pleted book o f m emoirs itself appea rs, completing l11e para bola travelled by lhe d ramatic character. Senator St ubbs. He emerged fro m writing in to speech, bu t spoke on ly to ret urn ro writing. And now, in mi lTored regress, he springs to specch again , or bis writing does. Sitting raptly to his secretary's reading aloLld of a passage from the book, he exu1ts "Ir plays! It plays !," satisf1ed that hi s wri tten words have crealed Ihe illusion of a spontaneous "character." Leo Jenk in's Dark Riele produced at the Soho Re p in 1981 , begins with a narration by a Translator who has been str llggling with th e meanjng 01' ao occult Chinese parehment, "The Boo k o f t be Y ellow Ancestor, " a tex l about él text com posed offragments 01' other texts which appear to embody yet other texts.'4 lis original language may not be C hinese, confesses lhe T ran slator and it has even crossed his mind " thal lhis wo rk .. . is itsel f a translation ... 01' a translation ... of a translation. " Though .Ienkin 's play is at one level a send-up of self-reférential modernist artifice, it is also él seriously inten decl tleconstruction 01' lhe art of theatre , which traditiona lly banishes text and textllality to the margins ofthe living performance represented by speech and gesture. Thc Translator introduces us to a passagc from the Book . N o t slIrprisingly in this play about textuality, it is about a young woman reading a book . Th e young woman appears reading the hook, whose chatacters in turn appear. Just as the young woman stands inside th e very text she reads , the Trans'l ator and his publisher are al so among the sll pposed Chjnese manuscript's ten peripatet ic characters. The very scene discussing Ule rnanuscript is parl of the "translation." Like a moebius strip, the play's frame and framed nanatives cannot be logically distinguished , and the co nventional distinction between performa nce and text is unsettled as the performance draws its textuality to our attention . The play may be a deliciollsly artificial " spoof," but the joke in part is on lhe theatre's customary creation 01' an in.\'ide of spontaneous speech Ihat relega tes tcxtuality to an outside, beyond the performance. Jenkin seerns lo say thal text is inside, and text is all there is. " Young man," says Zendavesta, Ihe oculist/occllltist who is represented as having com111issioned the "trans lalion ," "the new cosmogony has been rcvealed to me .... We live inside the e
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T he hlnck una ..... h ile o f I\dl Ít.: IlIl C KCl1l1cdy \ ., MIII'II' ,"'lflf //11.1' lo .<-¡{(Ir 11/ lllld Wh i/f' rclcrs nOl lll1 ly 10 racm l d iln:rcm:c hUI lo Iwo Ji ffe ren l moJes o f wri ting, print on paper and im ages on fi hn . u, T hc play is <111 a ulobio graphica l collage loosely focused on the hospilal ization of Kennedy 's brol her a ft er a car accident. Clara, Kennedy's central eharacter, is a l1 o bsessi ve write r who writes continuously duri ng the cou rse of the actioo and reads to us rrom her diaries and plays. She is writing the plays of Ad rienne Ken nedy, q uo ting fram The Owl AI1.Ylvers and Kennedy's di a ry enfries. Bettc Da vis, Jea n Pcters and S helley Wi nters appear as characters in ta bleaux from other rnovies, b ul immedia tely becomc white "star " vcrsions 0 1' C lara. C lara says she Iries lO wor k cvery day on A Lesson in Dead L aJ1guage (an o ther K enn edy pla y), as ir aski ng us to note lhat A M O)lie Sta,. _ . _ , is a th ird-hand reali ty slitched together from "dead language." Like the pa rchme nt in Jenkin 's p lay, M O)lie S l a¡- is a lext composed of writ ings derived from other writings, sorne of which a re derived fro m still other writings. This writing is always reminding us that it comes from a finished past - old diaries. old movies. [ts present lire is not the interaetion 01' "living" charaeters uttering seemingly sponta neous speech , but alife 01' lex ls refracted through each other to produce an eerie interaction of genres. We enter these texls with au interest in eharaeter, of course. This p la y, first prod uced as a work in progress at the Public Theatre in 1976, was wTitten earlier than the othe rs f discuss. as its interest in eharacter may evidence. Yet we enter eharacter only to see it dissolve into writi ng. Clara herself questions whether she exists outside lhe " black and white" ofwriting. AlI three plays have in common thi s slI-ange reversibility (are we follo wing eharacter, or wTiting'! are we following plOI , or writing? etc.), opening a slow leak, as we mi gh t conceive it, in the self compl ete authenticity 01' the stage that is part 01' theatrical Prese nce_ Oa ryl C hin 's texts are some 01' l he 1110st radically anti-theatrieal among Ihe reeent forays 01' textuality against the traditional boundaries of theatrical Prcsc nee . Many 01' his plays incorpo rate long passages 01" art or literary L·lil icisll1. The recent ACl and /he AClar, for instanee, produced in 1984 at the Tl walrc for the New City, ta kes its title from the book o/" the same name b ur! erilic Harold Rosen berg. Th e play begins \Vith a readin g 01' a long para ~ra ph fm m a 1966 essay in Film Culture by Annette Michelson , delivered by a cha racter called sim ply T he Readcr. This prologue continues \Vith a reading nI" an author"s note a bo ut the origins 01' the play. It was derived from a more ;J lllb ili o llS. un produeed play (another text hovering behind the text being pcrl"ormcd ). Lhat posed the question s. " What \Vould happen il" there wn s a 111 ergl!1 nclwecn Ja cques Derrida alld Preston Sturges? W hat if Deleuzc and (1 lI a lani an¡llyzcd Ernsl Lubi lsch .. .. " T he c urrent pla y, Ihe Prologuc con dudes. is un "u ttcmpl lo anal Y7c Ihe problellla tie" whelh cr Ame rica n popula r cu lt ure and nru¡.ós IllcJ ium conven liolls "ca n be ca lled urc li clyp~s "1 rile play pmpcr e~1I 1 si~ts of al1 inlcrwcaving nI" dll/~'n" 01 ',,""!le I"l agmcllh qllllll:d 1'1"1)111 111' illspircd by "dlls:-ic" I\m1..'riC011(¡ 11 liS, ¡II IL'I"I"'1 ,,'ti wl lh I:l" ilicnl
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flllssag,cs. This wcavin g (JI' I'ra¡JIJICll ls ne ver eoah:sccs inlo an illu sionistie rca lil y wilh plol anJ c haradels. yd ClIhercs necause the texts behind the text are parl v I' o ur cult ura l narra livc, We finJ oursel ves surrenJerin g to the pl cas urc 01' these sourees, a surrendcr tha t slyly reasserts lhc critical question 01" 111eir cultural powe r raised at the o utset or t he play. C h in thrusts lexts at his a udiencc, books, articles, fi lms , fiction . criticismo II is earlicr ApopleclÍc Fil "fits " together various pieces 01' dance criticism with cnéJctmcnts 01' plots taken from Djuna Barnes's Nighlwood and BeaUly and Sadn ess by Yasunari Kawaba ta _ C hin c rcates a lIún. almost transpa ren t dramatic surrace 01' "cha racter" and " plo t" Ihrough wh ich shine a d iscourse woven 01' and about a variety 0 1' texts. It is lhe wo rld o f textuality rather than a dra matic world that C hin is concemed with in most of hi s pla ys. Chin always co-directs h is own plays with his collaborator Lany Q ua ll s_ Thc group of [aithful and talented actors who work wilh them ha ve dc vcloped a mode of stage speeeh quite different from the expressive speech Ihat passes for present and originary utteran cc. Rather the Chin actors speak quictly, hurriedl y and in flat tones, in some lim inal zoue between sponta ne OllS spcech and reading. Thus even in playing styl e C hin undennines the illusion 01' presence to remind us that his kind ol' perform a nce is alwa ys in Ihe shadow 01', even in awe 01', texts , and usual ly texts that origina te outside Ihe theatre . This invasion of the pl ace of speech by the " other" 01' textuality is taking l11any form s_ While the origins 01' sllch practices may be traeed in pa rt to the postmodern dance and experimental film worlds 01' the I 970s (certainly in ('hin 's case there is a direet inftucnce) the phenomenon i_n theatre has become 'i\l pervasive as to evade associatioll wilh any particul a r li nea ge or style_ It is Illlt limited to avanl-garde or experimental theatre. as C hristopher Durang's lite Ala,.,-iage oj"Belle and Boo sbows. ln that play, produeed in the spring 01' Il)R5 at the Public Theatre, the son Matt is a student 01' the novels ofThomas I lardy, and frequently steps forward to utter an apparent digression to the :tudience on The M ayor ofCaster!Jridge or Ha rdy's " unrclieved pessimism ," lx a piece 0 1' dramatic critieism, in effect, bot h within and outside the play that allows us lo read it as satire and traged y simultaneousl y. Ma tes fin t speeeh lo Ihe éludienee announces that only writing can order and rationalize- th e l1Ie~s 01' domesticity, a mI that we are about to scc an attempt at sueh writing . " ( )nee thesc detail s have been eo nsidered . . . generaliz a tions should be writtl~n down legibly, and studied ," he says, indicating the next scene as the .,hjcct 01' study. That in the play's prcmiere Ihe role 01' Matt was played by 1hc playwri ght himself only reinforces the intended pereeption that \Ve are 1<1 rega rJ the spontan eous spcceh 01' the eharacters as if bracketed in the 1','1 ~p!.:c l iv,' cnJowetl by wríllcn r~) rm . Fi na ll y, imagcs 01 wrili ng all d ils !.:umpanioll , reading, have been eropping IIp in Ihe pe rfoITlI anre winl' I)f tIW:lIIC wil h incrcasing frcq ucncy. Rich a rd hIlC II Hl II 'S sc lli ll~" \Villl Ih ,'\1 ' ,I IJIlI'~ .,llc ltcrs a mi worJs nrnni ng.across lhe I 1' 1
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Notes Walter Benjamin , "The \York 01' Art in the Age of Mechanical R eproduct ion," in If{Ul1Iillllliol1s, ed. Hanna.h Arendt (New York: Schoeken Books, 1969), p . 22 1. :1. Timothy J. Wiles, T{¡e Thealer Even( (Chicago, Universily of Chicago Prcss , 1980), p. 112. Michael Goldman , The //elO,.'s F,.eedom (New Yo rk: The Viking Press, 1975), pp. 160 - 1. ,1 JlIllan Hec k, T/¡e Lite of' ¡he Thealre (San francisco: Ci!y Ligh ts Books, 1972), No. 84. " Beck, No. 10. e, As Philip A u~ landcr writes in a helpful overvicw, " Much rece nt theory has in ract suggcsted that in arder to remain viable as a radical arl form , theater must de feat , or al least wnceplurali7C the defeat oL presence." T he unpublished pa per, "Theatre. Pe rformance and lhe Pro b lematics of Presence," WilS delivered at th e symposium "Tow¡tnls a Ncw Poetics ofThealre," William and Ma ry C ollege, April, 1985 . I \3cck , N o. :\5. :-¡ I' h,11 1l1 0fl W ikkr. "R()m¡; TI It 1I11.! l11s 011 Playwriling." qlloted in Bernard Dukore. !>I'{I/ I/I//I ,' 11t"ol'l' 1/ 11/ / ( ·,.i¡i, ·/.,.", ( N¡; \\ Yor k: H olt, R inehart
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lO G ayalri Spivak , in lro . lo Oc rrid a, O( Grilllllltlll(/I(/,~I ' ( lJu llillllnc: ./ohm Iluj1k 'II N lJnivcrsil y P ress. 1976), r . Ixix . 11 e h ristopher N orris. DCClIflsfruct ion: 1'lleory (/l1d Procl ice (LonJon: Mel blIcn . I'J!U)
P ER FO RMANC E WRIT ING
p.2R. 12 Ibid .. p. 291. 13 R ic hard Nelson , Tite Viel1na NOles, in Wordplays 1 (New York: PerfOnlling Arls Journal Publicati ons, 1980). 14 Len Jenkin , Dark Ride. in W ordpla)'s 2 (New York : Perfonning i\rts Journal Publicatiol.1s, 1982). 15 Cf. Derrida's well-known pun, "J! n'y a ras de hors-textc," meaning bolh Ihal Iherc is nothing ous.ide th e text, bUI also that the text has no outside. 16 A d ric nne Kennedy, A Movie Slar H as lo Sla/" in Block ({lid While, in J.j/ordpfll)'.I" (Ne w Yo rk : Pe rronning A rts Journal Publications, 1984). 17 Daryl C hin, Acr alld lile Aclo/" (New York: unpub1. , 1984). 18 Ch ristopher Durang, The M a/"riage o/Belle al1d Bo o (Ne w Yo rk : unpubl.. 1985 ) 19 F lIC hs, "PerfonlJance as Reading," Per/orming Arf,v Jouma! No. 23. vo!. VII 1. no. 2, 1984. 20 Chantal Pontbriand, 'The eye finds no fixed point on which to rest ... ," trarL'; e. R. Parsons, 1l1odern D rama, 25: 1, I9R2. Pon tbriand rnakes a distinction betwl'c lI the " presence" ofthea tre and the "p resentncss" ofperformancc. However, 1 be lievu the plays 1 discuss a nd many that 1 have no room to discLlss also evi nce the "disarticlllation " (which I call Absenee) that she finds in rerforrnanc'e.
Ric A llsop Stl11 rcc: /'er!ó/"min;;
A n\" .fouma/21(1) (1999): 76- 80.
The relationship bctwcen writing aud perfonnance- the uses and applica lions o f various writing p ractices for performance within the hislorical cJa ss i fi\.:ations of theatre, music, poetry , litera tu re- has tra d itionaJly resolved itsclf in a variety of con ventionalized (bu lllot unproblem atic) forms: lhe play tex t, I he Iibretto. the Iyric, and so on. The study of these forms has until rel a tively recently been divorced from the study of their performance: even contem porary work on the materiaJity of writing deriving from deconstructive philo sophy and Jiterary theo ry has largely con fined itsel f to the space of the page. Writerly wo rk thal extends beyond the page has found itsclf cither margi nal il.cd or ignored in terms of its exploration of relations betwecn writing ancl performance. Yet at the latter end ofthe twentieth century we are surrounded by cxamples and models of such wri terly perfo rmance work. Tn short the con ventionalizcd (and therefore often unquestioned) rclations between writing and pcrformance are proving inere.asingly inadequate as interd isciplinary and cross-disciplinary arts practices emerge in response to rapidly shifti ng cultures. W ha tever the ambivalent indieations of digital media , writing will eertainly continue to dcvelop as a technol ogical medium , and as such, as perform a nce- performance (in whatever form) will con tinue to be an increas illgly co mpl ex in teraetion 01' signifyi ng systems. Since the mid-1990s the term "performance writing" has begun to have sOlOe currency in the arca 01' experimental and contemporary performing arls, whether referring to an emergent field of practice 01' an emergent aca dCl11ic discipline. As the writcr Caroline Bergvall has noted: Performa nce W riting ex.plores relationsb ips between text ual and text
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Jl n th Ihc(' n.: til:a l il ltl:n::s t ill " wrili ll!!· itsell ,IS 11 ·"1"'1\ l ' 11:0 rla cin!! ;¡s ;¡ Jis tim.:livc Icalurc wi lhi n Il1 ()Jl! m i ~ 1 a vall l-ganh.: pradll"l', \ Ih e 1I1l': leasingly cross-Jisdplinary ami rragll1cl1 la ry co nJ irio n 01" I he ~lI l s: uno lh e pc rvus ivc ncss of the lerms o f "perfo m wnée" a s u means 01" rcad ing J i verse cult ural practices, ha ve proviJed a rich gro und for the cmergcnce 01' pcrformal1l:l' wrili ng as a pract ice ancl as a way o f fra ming pntctil.'C. The term perfO nn Ul1ét.: writing itsel f, w hile inevitab ly evol vi ng into ye t an other category Ih al relcrs to a11 increasingl y fixed body of work. is-al JeaSl no w-stiU un unSlablc (llld explo ratory te rm thal attempts 10 hold in tension both wri ting a nd ilS per forrn a nce, performance a nd its writing. lt is a trame throug h which a ra nge of wti ti ng a nJ performa nce praclices are bro ugh t inlo view- the texualities oJ sonic, visual , graphic an d movement pl:lrfo rmances; t he performance or SOllic, vi sual , graph ic and m ovement texls. As a frame performance writing al so provides a means fo r rethin king a no lInderstanding a range of arts and perfo rmance practices that have remaincú silent or mute in the face of more trad itional ways of looking ano read ing, Performance writing effectively both problematizes and widens the discou l"sc that surrounds the textuality of contemporary arts practice and a1Jows othe r wise marginal and peri pheral practices into the field ofperformance researc h . While the danger of any new disciplin e o r new means of framing wo rk is Ih:.1l the frame itseJftends to impose restrictive limits and conventions 00 practiccs that were otherwise unimpeded; the benefi t is its ability to map and link practices which are often unaware of each otner and the new directions am] initiatives which can emerge fro m such integration and framing. Performance writing is the contin uing and transforming rela tionship between the t wn telms 01' ils discourse, proposed both as boundary markers and as two terminal points in an open circuit across which the luminolls arc ofperformance wri! ings take formo T he origins 01' performance writing must be placed within the broad his torical context of writerly performance work within and across ma ny dis ciplines and media. But it also has a more localized history ano academ i¡; setting in reJation to Dartington, a specialist arts col1ege in Devon , England , where writing in rela lio n to music, to theatre, and to the visual a rts and performance, has in one way or another been a consistent am.l integral feéltu rc of its academic program since the mid- I 970s with links back to lhe fo unding 01' the present Dartington Estate in 1925.4 For example, '\vriting for perform ance" was an essential speci alism in the newly-established theatre degrce course (1976 onwards). It was not predicated primarily on ideas ofpla yw riting. o r the literary stlloy o f playscripts 01' dramatic texts, but on the con li n uing qllest ion (and questioning) o f the rela tionship of wriling 10 per foml,mcl.: wo rk. particu larl y (at lha l lime) on lhe uses 01' writ ing rOl" perfo nna ncc thul emphasized l he making 01' " p h ysical, non-narrali vc ano vi:m a l" l'xper imental theat re a no " Ilew dance" work, an ú its relalio ns ll) wilkr :-l1l.:lal a m! plllilil: cont\!xts.
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The 1!.Il1 dll ,t! lIL p;jI t un: pi \\ III" W (.I l h:a st in t~ n ns 01" ex.]1l' rilllcntal thca tre Wtl lk in lhe U.K. ) from lile Il IlJl ll:; pf playwl it ing ano Ihe fo rms orora m a ,I~s\ll,; ia lcd wilh wnw ntilmul thca ln: and lhcatrc spaccs d llrin g the I970s ami 1I)XOS, wa s n.:lkdcd in Ihe w nlinuing and unrcsolvab lc d ebate aroum.l which 1'1 l'I)()sit ioll or connective wo uld besl characte ri/:e the rela tio n between writ ing ;llId pe rforma ncc: writing for performance, which bega n lO s llggesl a sense 01' wriling in lhe service of performance, writing and performance, or wril ing as pcrl"omlancc. During the 1970s lhe theatre co urse at D artinglo n had looked baek ror II1spiraliun lO lhc writerl y models and examples of work a t Blac k M oun tai n ( 'tlllcgc in No rth Ca roli na. In 1952, the poet and then dean of Black M o un LIIIl Collcgc. C harles O lso n . wrote a course deseription en titled " The Act o f Wriling in lhe C ontexl 01' Post-M odcrn M an ," which incidenta Jly might nO l I1l1ly have conlained one 01' lhe earliest sustained usages of the lerm " p ost IlIodcrn:' but also provided a marker from which an idea o f perf0l111anCe \VI iling could emerge. Olson \\frote: The cngage ment of caeh c1ass ... is the search for a methodology by which each person in the dass, b y acts of writi ng and critique on others' acts of writing, may more and more fin u the k inetics of cxperience disclosed- the kinetics ofthemselves as perso ns a s well as 01' lhe stuff they have to work on , and by .5 Illere are (at least) two key ideas here: (i) "acts of writing" which cJearly places \VI iling as performative. as engaged in physica l process, which Ieads to (ii ) 1 " kinetics of expe riencc"-the literal " movement 01' material " or " perform .111\':<': 01' writing" that is fou nd and material ized . A s Ol son saw il elsew here: t..lllctics as a direcl transfer of energy fmm "where th e poet got it .. . b y wa y 111 Ihe poem itself, all the way over to the reader. ,,6 The sense of the materiality ,,1 writing and the essentially performati ve quality ofthe materials ofwriting, ( )lsolI also describes as being " handled as a series of objects in field in such a 1V1I V thal a series of tensions are made to hold , and to hold exactly inside the I "1I1 t: nl ano contcxl of the poem which has formed itself, through the poet, .lIld lhcn, into beillg."7 h)J·ty- ll ve years laler O lsou 's co W"se out1.i.ue still has a contemporary 1'·... tlIlUnCC lo its vision and its " placin g" 01' the act 01" writing. lts conceptual IlIltl'rit o r. performance writing is now only able to locate itself as part 01' the IIIllll il'ul ion pfl iterature, music, theatre, and so on. In that , ofcourse it aligns 11'.l' l!" "w ith thc acsthetics of suspicion, disruption and reappraisal which i.:" c.: t II slIch a large exten t d elermim:d the fra me of mind 01' this century's , II II :-'Io n of ex perime nta lity ."H T hc first Performance W riting Symposium, an IlI le¡n a tional gathcri ng hckl a t Da rtinglon in 1996, em phasiz cd the ma tenal 111,1 111" wri ting ami inlroúllcctl pt,: rl llrll1a IlCC wriling as it pn.:senled itselr at IIt,lt lil1ll!: 12 1
1'1 ItI (11. 1\1 ,\ N,' I
"' he (kili ,,(' pcll úrmancc wr iCillg ddilll:s wl 'liul' 111 II ~ wllks l scn sc as the in vestigatio n 01' lile rc ll'on ll
') The SY lllfH ISiu l1I was (\I· \l q J,ól lI lI.l· d ¡" J{1l: i\lIsopp, writl:r. amI C .lrolillc Ilergvall. 1)1'\::;':111 SlIhj.:¡;! " ir,'clor llllh" l~crl"lIl1aIlCC W ritillg dcgrec coursc al Dartington l'ollcftc (jI' A rt>. !O SI:;<' Pt' /:lil/'/l/l/I/(,c Texl\', cds. Michacl Issacharofl' and R obin .Ioncs (U niv . of Pe llllsy lvania I'rcss, 19(8), p. 86.
Notes 1 C aroline Bergvall, Key Note Paper for Performance Writing Symposium . Dartington, U .K. , 1996 . 2 Heraldcd by Marshall McLuhan in the early 1960s and approached from philo· sophical (Jacques Derrida), structural (Roland Barthes). cultural (Walter O ng), feminist (Héléne Cixous), and teehnologieal (McLuhan) perspectivcs. 3 For example, in the work of M areel Duchamp, Antonin Artaud. Gertrude Stein. 4 Dartington was fou nded as a utopian community for rural regeneration and th e promotion ofthe arts by the American heiress Dorothy Elmhirst and her husband Leonard Elmhirst in 1925. 5 Charles Olson, 'The Act of W riting in the Context of Post-Modern Man " (1952) in O/son: The }o/lma/ o/ Ihe Charfe,~ O/son Archives, ed. George B utterick (Univ. o f C onnecticut Press), No. 2 A utumn 1974, p. 28. 6 C harles Ql son. "Projecti vc Verse" (1950) in Se /ecled Wrilil/gl', ell. R . Crceley (Ne w D ircctions, 1966). 7 Ib id. 8 Bcrllvall. op. cil .
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29 MAK ING MOTIO N S
1",!~lrrl"d l' ¡ 11 e l :I , 11 1I 1dV " l.' " I' I'III" l llI le 11I 1'l.¡'''rtIl law by lilc r :llIv n':-llIC lllhcl'iIl V 11.
1. Tite body in law's tex t
The Introduction lo this collection 01' essays likens the trajee tory 01' human experienee to driving on the highway. Driving, as an activi ty , is constrictco (or, perhaps more accurate'ly, eonstructeo) by a variety 01' " texts" whieh nol only help us gel where we want lo go, bUl protect us a lon g lhe way. For law yers, the mos t obvious 01' lhese texls is the Motor Ve hicle Code, lhe written set of dri ving regulations fonnally approved and enforeeo by lhe S tate. D ri ve rs , however, are very much ,lwa re that the text ofthe Motor Vehicle C ode is nol lhe only " text" of the road. As the Introouction points out. " text " is also to be found in hig hwa y markers, dividing lines, road signs ano (most impo rtant for present purposes) t!le didactic bodily m o vements and gestures of persons \Ve eneountcr along the way. be they state tToope rs or othe r orivers . Wh at is true of dri vin g is in m éllly ways lrue ofla\\' .in general. It is easy to recognize lhe written text 01' la w, but a fully aceurale and nuanced undcrstanding of ho\V the law actuall y works requires an ap preciation of ot her texts in law 's scmiolic field. In this arlicle l he author foeuses on one sueh "alternative" text, legal gesture, by which he mca ns any purposivc bodily motion (espeeial1y, bu t not exclusively, 01' lhe arrns or hands) lhal by eon ve ntion signifies a speciflc lega l change. condition or rclation. T he body of the articlc groups lhe function s 01' lega l gc~ture inlo eight distinguishable. but necessarily overla pp ing categories labe led "in dicative," " ordinative," "ev ioent.iary ," "demonslrative," "communal," " mnemonic," " regul a lory." and "psyehologieal." With each calegory, lhc aulhor reviews vari Ous specific functions which legal gesture has historically served an%r continues to se rve in o ur own lega l system. The author eoncludes by suggesting that far froln being él primitivc or naj ve modality inherently inferior lO writing, legal gest ure is a sophis tica ted an d pt')we rful Illcdium possessing a uniqut: c:rp:rcil y lo 'o ster eo rn m uni ly , cll nc rcten es~
In cOlltempo rary America, the locus of legal meaning - l((w's " text," if you will - is habitually deemed to be the written word. T o guarantec " a govern ment 01' laws and 110t 01' men," Americans have vested ultimate lega l author ily in a written Constitution bol slered by innumerable volumes of pri nted pre¡;edents and statutes. To prevent fra ud and promote certa inty, American lawyers routinely recommend (an d our legislatures often insi st) that basic legal transactions such as wills, contracts, and col1veyances be put in wTiting. Tmd itionallegal doctrine demands that our courts conslrue legal instruments sol ely according to their written tcrm s, disregarding a ny ora l statements m ade by the parti es bel'o re those written terms were set down (the " parol evidence" rule). O ur law schools teach law students how to interpret legal literatu re and how to eraft legal documents . ' The very language of AmeJ'ican la w is replete with refere nces to the wri tten word that underline t he latter's denotive fundamentality. Stand ard law is " black-Ietter. " Careful or circumspect judges folJow " the letter ofthe law." Law-enforcement officers may "throw the book " at a repeat offender. Evcry layman knows tha t the essence 01' any legal agree Illent is to be found in the "fine print. " We must aekn owled ge the central and eonstructi vc role of writing in law's contemporary text, but we m ust not give in to lhe Iiterallimitations o f tha t metaphor. 1n particula r. we must not overlook unwritten forms of expressi on and experience that shape our understanding and appreciation of law in practice, if rareJy in principie. Even in a society saturated by the written word, law lives in the speech oflawyers and c1ients. in the gestures ofattorneys and witnesses, ancl in the multi-sensory " performances" of persons party to wil1s, marriages, and tria ls. rt resides in the setting and structure 01' courthouses, lhe design and deco ration of courtrooms, and th e costume and accoutre lIlents ofjudges. Notwithstanding our traditional inc1ination to igno re them , Ih<.:se and other "alternative" legal texts have always had presence and power. I'oday a number 01' legal scholars are taking them more seriously,2 thanks in part to new audio and video technologies which have al10wed alternative forms to be preservcd and studied with llnprccedented ease. ) Herc, then, is an ineipient "crisis 01' text" within American law -- a grow in g apprcciation that the traditional eqllation of legal text with writing is in adeq llate. W hat is at stake in this crisis, however, is more thanjust an equa lio n. T he disjllncture between narrow and broad conceptions of legal text I'Olllpl clll<.:nts und potentia ll y incorporates many other basic discontinuities. Wrili ng, ror instnnce, h U$ frcq ucn lly been associated with (among other things) Icasoll ," lhe " masculi nc," a nd t.:I il c power. 0 11 the other hand, non-wri Uen IllrIll S havc J"ri¡!q llcn Ll y ( a IHJ 111 11 11.'1 rnore pcjo rati vely) been éls::;ocialed with
12-1
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The em bodimen t of law in gesture Bernard 1. H ibbillS Sourcc: ./uUr!1a/ o(CO/l/f!II1{lorar)' J_ega/lssues (, (19')5): 51 RI.
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emotion, Ihe " rcmini nc," anu tlle 1ll
I)f" tite hmly in rav()r l)1 I h ~' 1IIIl Id ), I; a lld the spn.:au 01" lil\! racy th ro ugh the llIass o!" Euro peu 11 a nd A n lCltea /l ru pula I il1nsl(, (tha n ks largcly lO the dcvelop IIlenl 01" Ihlo! printin g press) .1 7 Not witltstanding this relat ively recen t setback, Ih\! inJispuli!J ly lengthy anJ c1aborate caree .. o f lega l e.estu re in use m akes it a pri me candiJa te ror extendcd exa mina tion . My third a nd final reason for f"ocusin g on legal geslurc has to d o with the likclihood tha t in an agc of video and computers. gestllre in general wi ll hecollle a mo re prom inent a nd mo re respected communica tive form o T he visuallllcJ ia offilm and television have al read y la id Ihe cultural gro undwork ror gestllre's revi val .' x C ha llengi ng our C a ..lesian prejudices, Ha rvard psy chologist Il oward G ardner (1983: 2(5) h a s recenlly posited the existence uf a " bo dil y-kinesthetic intell igence" of which gesture is but one Illan ifesta lion.' 9 Other psychologists have lately suggested tha t a gro win g n um ber of" American childrcn use a so-called " McLa n g uage" which relies m uch more o n gcsture than does tradition a l English . 20 At the same time, many computer software and hardware designers are working on "geslural interfaces" (ex I\!nding all the way to "virtu al reality") that will even tuall y revo lutionize the 21 wa)' we interact with both electro n ic machines and each ot her. As a new generation more com fo rtable with gesture grows up and en ters prof"essional lif"e, and as visual a nd computer technologies continue to progress and shape cultural experience and expectations, we may plallsibly ex pect renewed inter est in gesture as a legal instrumentality. Studyin g legal gesture now may help liS to both understand a nd deal with the possibl e consequences of such a deve1opment. The few studies of legal gesture that have been un dcr taken to thi s point llave explored its prominenee in vario us legal systems and cultural envi ron lIIents, 22 the significanee of specific legal gestures in specific historic con lexts,21 and the depiction of legal gestures in particular manuscripts or othe r specific physical settings. 24 T o Ihis poi nt, however, no o ne has consi Je red the ¡.!\!neral functions of legal gesture as a modality. 25 Granted , legal gesture has hcen and to som e extent still is used to swear oaths, transfer land , make con Iracts, and accompli sh o ther specific lega l ends, but what general funetio ns dlles it serve within legal systems? What d oes it do? O ur erstwhile failure to ask these rather basic questions has. I suggest, led us to underesti mate lega l ~c sture ' s inherent powe r and potential (an underestimation revealed by our tenJenc)' to pre-emptivcly dismiss legal gesture as " primitive, " "archaic," or "' naive " ). In an effort to remcdy this situation, Scction 1I 01' this Articlc lllltlines eight broad categories of function which legal gesture has historic ;¡lIy scrvcd and , on occasion. still serves: it then describes specific functi o ns that '¡pccilic legal gestures serve o r ha ve scrved within each of thosc categorics. "i~·t.: 1 iu n 111 01' thi s A rticle ~ u ggests h o w an app recia tion 01' legal gesture's 1I 11111i ple l:a pa bi litics can rroviJc important ncw in~ight s into gesture' s sur· .,.h·,tI on Ihc I1ltt l"gilh III" CIIII I1: 11 I(lllra ry legal cu lture, in lo its chcckcrcJ history , .lIld CVC II illl l) ils ru tlln' ,1'; ;1 h','.1I ill slrt ll llcll la lily .
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11. Tbc runce iOm; lJf leg¡lJ J..:l·...tUrL·
workcd i11 Ihe same II1di~lI I IVl' Ll shill n when 1I111ltiple parlies surremle red righ ls lo one party, ur wlHm Ol le pcrso ll IransICrred righls lo lllul tiple parlies. T hus, in c1evcnlh ccntu ry No rnranoy , él hu:sband. wife, amI the ir two sons ll1adc a gil"l lo a local chllrch: a surviving charler rcco rds Ih at "a ll eq llall y in I:Qnfi rm alion 01' the aforesaid gift, together holdjng one book [sta nd ing for Ihe girt}. placed [it] on the altar 01' St. Ma rtin. "3> Legal gesture can also indicate th e wit nesses guaranleeing a legal trans action or evenl. T his ind ieation of witnesses is often aecom plished directly by gcstures perfo rmed by the witnesses themselves. F or example. accorJing to Ihe Book or Lel'ilicus, Ihe wi tnesses t o a death sentence in ancient Hebrew culture were required to come up and place their hands on the head 01' the condemned indi vi dual. This act d irectly ma rked Ihe m a s wi tnesses si111 ulta ne ously seeing. hearing, and endorsing the condemnatíon. H Símilarly, several early Anglo-Saxon land charters contéú n a formula L1sually mistransla tcd as "Ihe witnesses and their signatures a re recorded ," but which actually means "the witnesses were sworn and Iheir hands touched. "35 Tbis formula sug gests that after watching the gestures performed by the partiópan ts to a conveyance. the witnesses endorsed the co nveyance by tO llchiug lhe charter recording it. In both t hese contexts, the witnesses argu ably earne in to being l/ua witnesses as much (if not m ore) by the gestures they perfo rmed as by a ny declaration or writing down of names. Less directly, legal gesture can imlicate the witnesses to an actÍon by unilateral motions which designate wi tnesses melaph orically. ]n ancien t Israel , rol' instance, swearing with one's hand on the thigh or genitals a ppears lo have been an invocation ofancestors to witness and, ifnecessary , lo dcfend I he oath 3 1> 1n ancient Greece and R ome. the aforementioned gestuTe o f pl ac ing one's hand on an aHar indicated not only the party taking the oath , but also that one or more gods was being calJed OIl to witness i1. 17 Even tod ay, the raising 01' the right hand is a sort of caJli ng on our own God as witness, Inwards whom one's hand is extended in iml ication and supplication. l~ Finally, legal gesture can literally 01' metaphorically indicate Ihe object 01' a kgal transaclion. Frequentl y, this object is another person oThus, the afore Illcntioned Hebrew witnesses' gesture of touching the head of aman markcd hill1 as Ihe object of the condemnation. More positively, ancient Hebrew law ~ave lestators an opportunity to gesturally designa te their beneficiaries: tbe HIJO/.; o( Genesis records that Isracl. the father of .Ioseph . designated Joseph ' s M ilI Ephraim as his principal beneficiary by putting his right hand on Ephraim's lu:ad . w In Roman law, a party c1aiming a slave analogously indicated him as the object of his c1aim by touching Ihe slave with a ceremonial rod, saying: " 1 daim Ihis ma n is mine by Q uiritary right according to his proper title. As I hav\! t.lcclared , so , look you, 1 ha ve laiu my staff on him."lO Alternativel y. ¡¡ lega l gcsturc ean ind ica t\! whllt. irn ol who , is the focus oflcgal activity .41 In II ICdil!v ~t1l:U ll vcy alH;\!N, 101 ill sla nce, lhe gcslure 01' Iransferring a sl raw or a dud 0 1' Cil rl h gCI1l:rall v illl lil :lll'd Iha l 1,llId was Ibe o bjec l 01' transJ'e r. J2 In
The many fUl1ct iom; 01' legal gesture as él 1TI00lalily enn be gro ll peJ into al Icast cight distinguish ab1c b ut necessari ly overlapping calegories. Somc what arbit rarily, r have labelled these categories " illd icati vc," "ordi na tivl.!." "evidentiary." "demollstrative," "comm unal ," "mllemonic," " regllla to ry," anJ "psychologica J. "26 In this Sectio ll , I will cOllsider these categorics in turno illustrating the l11ul ti plc specific fUllcti ons lega l gesture ca n se rve wil hin each category by reference to individual legal gestures drawn from historicaJ'7 28 or contemporary experience. Given the ma ny ga ps in the existing lega l élnd psychologicalli teraturcs on gesture, much of what I llave to sa y here is necc~ sarily impressi onistic; r offer it as a starling-point for more research rather than as a defi nitive prod uct. A. ¡',dicative fimctions
Legal gesture can perfonn a variety of "i ndicative" functions. i.e., fu nctions by which (implicitly or explicitly) it indicales or identifies oertain importanl aspects or elements of legal IransactÍons. Most basicall y, legal gesture is a physical and corporeal sign which can indicate that a legal change or relation is being effected. 29 Although admi ltedly ambiguous in isolation, its use in appropriate settings can resolve potential doubts abo lit the legal meanÍng 01' enforceability 01' words or other actions. In con tcmporary courtrooms, for instance, raising one 's right hand c10se to the bod)' uSllally indicates that a bindi ng oathis being Sworn. In the Middlc Ages, pointing one's index and middle fingers (as depicted on the e1even th century Bayeux Tapestry and the fourteenth century manuscripts of the German Sachsempiegel) could similarly indicate an oath-swearing. Such legal gestures have historically served as a sort ofsemiotic shorthand, alerting people not only to the fact thal something of legal conseq uence is happenin g, bul also to the precise legal nature of that "something" (e.g .. the swearing 01' an oath). 10 More concretely. legal gesture can indicate the party or parties lo a legal
Iransaction. Considero oa lh-taking again. In aneÍent Greece and R ome, an
ill J ividual could ph ysÍcally identify himsclf as an oath-swearer by placing
11 his hand on the altar of a god. In our own society, oath-swea rers idenli f'y I hCl11sel ves lo others by. inler alia, placing one hand on a Bible and rai sing l he ol he r. Aua logo usl y. gestu re::; can indicate the parties to bilateral 01' mul ti la te ral undcrtaki ngs, conlracts. or conveyances. For instanee, in Ih e ancien t Ro man marriagc cerelllony, the parlies joining their right hands (dextrarull/ J JUI/uio) wcrc bride a nd groom. :? In ea rl y medieval E uro pe, Ihe gCSIllres 01 Ili¡nJi ng Ove!" ¡¡lid rcu:ivi ng ti cl od 01' earlh marked purties <11' lhe gra nto r anu gr:l l lll!c IlInJ rcspectivdy. visibly dislingu ish ing Ihl.!l1l rmm n lbe r pc rson~ prcsClI1 i l S Wi lllCSSCS 01 simple bystandcrs. Mcd icvü l Iqml !'l!NIIIIl" IíO lllc li mes
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thirt ccnlh Cl;lll ury hl¡,dalld , a Irans l\.:1 " hy Ih e d¡1I11 ,llld 11" h,J ~Jl alld h 'Y' si mi la rl y signilied lívcry o f scisill or a ho usc: " MOl\.' a l)Sllac lly. Ihe IllCUit:VII I practice o f handing o ver a s talf 0 1" a glove o rlen inJ icall.:U a Iranslcr 01' powel (e.g., to do violence) or a righl (e.g. , lo hold la nd or so rne ol her lhing) as src cified by accompanying wo rds . 4~
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ill!J)(Jrlallt ph ysicnl elles fu r t hL' 1'L'lL'll lo ll y s I'urlhcr gcs lu ral a nd verbal cla bor atÍt)I1. 411 In Ihis respecl, lega l gcs llJ l es are s lil11uJants lo thnught which help to l'nSUIC thal k~al c ha nge is dlecll:u according to conventional norms. C. E¡ritfelltiary !unClú)1Is
Third , legal gesture can punctllate a legal performance by dividing it in to individual "bits" or "chunks" 01' legal ¡nformation. Such pllnctllation ma kes legal info rmation easicr to understand by providing multiple moments wilhin which wo rds or other transaetional developments may be simultaneo us ly assimilated and anticipated . The relatively long and complicated medieval homagc ceremony was thus punctuated by several gestures: the vassal knelt and folded his hands, the lord embraced the hands ofthe vassal, amI t he lord kiiised the vassal. 4~ Metaphorically and even literally in this context, lega l gcs lmes allowed participants a nd witnesses to catch their breath. Such gest urcs werc enective as pUllctuation becallse they \vere deployed neit her too frequcl1 Uy IlO!' ( 00 infrcquenlly , Performed too rrequently, t hey themselves wo uld ha ve ovcrloaJ cu Ihc aU\!ntion ano mCl110ry o fwi tnesses: per ronl1co no l frequcntly c nlHlgh, Ihcy wOIII~1 huve losl rnosf 01' their p rosocJic vól lllc 1\1 th l! cnn lcxl n I' a la rgc CCI CnlUlly. pund llll li ng lega l gcs lu n.:s nl .. ,1 L' tH' pall lcip; llll s
I,cgal gesture can serve two functions which may con veni ently be described as "evidentiary" insofar as they evince key aspects of a gesturor's m ental sta te. To begin, legal gesture can evince " intent" : the intellec t uaJ willingness lo init iatc o r undertake a legal change or relation. Legal gestu re ¡nterposes hetween legal statement amI legal co nseq uence a physícal action that req uires lime, effort, and vol untarincss. T he prospective 01' actual ex pe nd it ure of time and errort focuses attention 0 0 the legal commitment bein g undertaken and ¡'.ives indivíduals furthcr opportunity 01' occasion to rel1ec t o n its probable rcsults;50 the performance of a calculated legal gesture arter t he passagc of time when words are spoken (or throulgh a period oftime during wbieh words are spoken) sugges~ that a gesturor genuinely wishcs to accomplish a convey ance, a sa le, ctC. 51By the same token, 01' course, the prospect or the obligation nI' having to l1lake a time- and clTort-consuming legal gesture may restraí n individuals rrom making commitmcnts whích are in fact unintended. 51 The status 01' legal gesture as él voluntary physieal movement also l1lakes legal gesture evidentiary of intent because ít reduces (although it admittedly does Ilot eliminate) the possibility that the gesturor is acting under some kind 01' external duress. In the context ofthese observations it ís quite clear why in the M iddle Ages - consistent with then-prcvailing theories 01' gesture in general " gestures of homage were deemed to evince intent to be bound to one's I'cudal lord. They were time-eonsul1ling, effort-consuming, and demanded vnluntary action on the part of the prospective vassal. 54 Second, legal gesture can evin ce feeling, i.e., the emotions which accom pany or are occasioned by a legal change or relation .55 Legal transactions are " liminal" events ._. events that involve transitions from Orle social state or cunditíon to another. 5(, A person is independent, and then is dependent (vas salage); a person is separate, and then one is connected (contraet; marriage); (lne is a possessor, and then one is not (conveyance). Liminal events are I'requently occasions for the experience of strong emotions. If an individual is not ablc to physícally show those emotions through, say, the making 01' a 1',l.'slure, he may feel disconnected or vaguely disassociated from legal change. II rna y not be fully real to him or to others and therefore, perhaps, not fully ~'urn relling. On the other hand, perforrning a gesture may provide a legal ;Ielur with a critical catharsis. an opportunity to release and display emotions II llendant UpOIl ch ange 01' rel al íon in a way that consolida tes that change and rcl uLi lln uno supro rts íl~ wor kin g, Relurning to the example of the medieva l humag¡,; Ce rel11(lll y. the ges\tl l C'i pI' k nccl ing ilnd foJdi ng o ne's band s provided th¡; ges luror /1\)1 \) Il ly wII\¡ ,In IlPPOl' IlIIlily lo cvi nce conscio lls intent to
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B. Ordinative jimctinns Legal gesture bas what might be termed "ordinati vc" functio ns insora r as il c(\n order and organize both the deplo ymen t and th e perce ption oflega l mea ning. f irst of all, legal gesture can " highlight" important information, evcnts, or relationships within a legal tr~lnsaction or performance.45 Highlighti ng rreq uently follo ws from indication . Highlighting nonetheless goes bcyon J indication by setting lega l gcsture in the context of legal performance as a whole ; it focuses o n how legal gesture 's deployment emphasi.zcs sorne aspcct!. of a tra nsaction and not others. In a conveyance, for instance, a legal gest un,' may not only indicate who is giving and receiving land, but may draw spccial attention to those facts. As a result 01' gestures, the identity of the partics is foregrounded vis-a-vis other (theoretically less important) aspects of thl! agreement (such as the duration of the esta te created) which may be solcly expressed in speech. Second, legal gesture can frame or define a legal transaction by marking its beginning and end . It thereby divides legal/y-important words and beha viors from other wo rds and behaviors" giving a p hysieal focus to witnesses ' aUen 46 lion and later recollection. Homer descri bed a framing use of legal gest un.' in the I!iad: at one point during the siege of Troy, the Greek warrior Ach illes initiated an oath by grasping the staff that gave him power to speak before the élssembled G reeks: at the end of his oath, he flung the staff on the ground ,41 Somewhat Icss dramatically, \Ve frame our o\Vn oaths by raising and (hen lo\vering our right hands.
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l' Il'x '1 11/\ ' . 1"" becolllc lhe lon.l's 1l\¡II I, b lll .. Iso óllI nppor lul1ify h l ,.how hd "l c !lis lord \llId olhl!rs Ihe h um ili ly wilh whieh hc lOUK up his I1 CW slal ll ~. T his d is pl llY n I' humilily in turn bccamc a persona l and socia l n:snuru: which hclpcd sustaHl the fe uoal rc1ation ship in to the future.
D. Demollstrtltille function .s Legal gesture can perform at least [WO " oemonstrative" fundio ns. These dil~ fer from indica tive fu nctions in sofa r as they involve a nalogic 01' symbolic showings 01' depictions o flegal change or relation , a mI not m erely signiflcati ons of specific elcments or a spects:57 they differ fro m cvidentiary fu nctions i n s of~lr as they display " objective" ra ther than " S LLbjecti ve " dimensions of legal tran s actions . In execution, each demonstra t ive function of legal gesture can c1a rify the meaning and significance oflegal informalion pro vided by other m od a lilies (speech and even , theoretically, writing) .5X C ol1ectively, the dem onstrali vc capacities of legal gesture ma ke it easier for gest urors and witnesses alike tI' understand the effect or implications 01' legal transactions. Such unde rstand ing may pro pel legal ch ange by confirming individuals in their consent or th eir choices, or m ay alternativel y prevent it b y prospeetively presenting indiviouals with an image depicting the otherwise undesired legal or physical effects of an inclination or declaration . First , legal gesture can physiea l1y demonstrale lhe nature or effect of a legal agreement or relation. In aneient M esopotamian law, fo r instance , a deb tor's gesture ol' handing his garmcnt (or the hem ol' his garment) to a creditor as part of a loan agreement demonstrateo that the debtor - representeo by the garlllent which had literal1y assumed his shape when wom - \Vas eom ing under thc creditor 's legal and cven physieal po\Ver. 59 This dcmonstratio n m ay have been accompan ied by a verbal explanation of what was going on , but lhe gestures (perhaps intentional1y - see infi·a, " Mnemonic Funetions") maoe lhe speech somewhat redundant. In the same legal culture, washing one 's hands in an appropriatc physical and verbal context demonstrated a giving up (a " cleansing" 01' literal " oissolving" ) of one's contractual obliga tions. 60 In ancient Greece , throwin g iron bars into the sea after taking an oath (e. g., o f al1iance) demonstrated that the oath could not be revokeo (insofar as the bars eould not be retrieved) .61 In Imperial Rome , Ihe joining of rigb t hands oemonstrated the achievement 01' peace and harmony between b ride and groOIll .6~ In the Middle Ages, the prospective vassaI's placement 01' his hanos together before his loro ("eommendation") in the ebnventiona l medieval homage cerelllony demonstrated that he was legally bouno , 01' wal> at least rcaoy to be bound Y T he lord's pl acemcnt ofhis hands over Ihe hands o fthe vassal in turn demonstrated the lord 's a ssu mptio n of dominance within the fe udal relali onship being e realeo betwecn them . The sUIne rcality was gest ura lly d emonstraled in Germa n reudallaw by havin¡.t Lhe lord SICp nn Ihe vassa l's fool. (,1 11 1
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Sl!conu , legal ges tu rc ca /l lh:m o llsl n llc lhe sanclion supporting a legal Iransucli o n DI' relalion Ih(.' p ricc lo be paid ir a contract is not uphcld or a conveyallce is not acc'epleu . This ill /rrrorem functi on of lega l gesLure seems lO ha ve heen partie ula rly pop ular in aneient la w. Homer's lIiad suggests that in aneient G reece, a mutual oal h could be concJuued by l wO parties tak ing \\iine frolll bowls amI pouring it out on the ground . In the epic itself, lhe acts were accom panieo b y the explicato ry words. "W hichever of the two [sides] should first do hann a gainst the oaths, m a y t hei r brains be po nTeo o n to the groundjusl as this wi ne."65 T he R om an h isto rian Livy li kew ise reports tJla t a Roman o fficial concluded an early treaty between lhe Roma ns and !he A lbans wilh these \Vo rds : " 1f [th e Ro man people] should by P ll blic consent anu fraudulen tly depart from [the terms of the treaty]. then , d o yo u, J up iter, so stri ke thc R oman people as 1 strike this pig thjs day ; strike so mllch the m ()re as yo ur poweT and streng lh are grealer." At this poinl , aecording to Livy. lhe offieial "struck the pig with a flint knife. "fo6 Graphieall y concretizing pena lties in this fashion drovc home their meani ng, and iJl the process provided a powerful incentive for parties to adhere to legaJ obligatioos.67
E. COllllllllnalfullt:tions Legal gesture can perform th ree functions which may broadly be termed " communal, " i.e ., productive of a heighte oed sense 01' inoividual connection to a comrn unity. Most o bvio usly, lega l gesture can p romote comrn uni ty by physicaJl y crea t ing community in space. T o be at all meaningful , lega! gestures req uire wi t nesses to observe them . In soeieties with little or no experieoee with writing, it is important that many people witness legal gcstures so that transactions will be properly and effectively rcmcmbered. The more important the trans action , the greater the numbcr 01' witnesses that tend to be requireo , both by law and practiee.6~ In the early Mido1c Ages, legal gestures were purposeful1y performeo in the erowdcd market or in lhe public court. When people eame together to witness gestures in these settings (as rcflccteo in the oft-repeated uocumentary formulas " in the eyes o f many" a nd " in lhe presence 01' many " ),('9 Ihe community was (re-)creatcd. 70 The physical re-ereation of eommunity is faeilitatcd by the faet that legal gesture is intercstin g ano even fun to wateh (in other \Voros, community rc ereation i.s stimulaled by community recreation). Legal gestures gcnera lly involve persons performing unusual and even potentially threatening aets. They therefore ten o oto bring people together even in societies which , beca use or wriling. are Iess d ependent on communal memory . J\ variety of legal ~c sturcs sce m lo ha ve been at least ineidenta ll y designed to a tt raet communal a llc nli o n to lhcll1sc1 ves. In a ncicn l lsrael. for in stanee. ama n could co nfi rm a Icgal ' lgrccmcn! by giving hi s -;an da ll Q a nolher ma noA modern com mentator I\,h ca l1cd lhis " a C ll ri~lIl S 1. 11 ,111111 hu i al \casi its unus ua lness would mean 1\ \
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th at il all rUl: lcd a llcnli lm. ami lh is pluhahly WfI '" I /-. ¡llI ft 'l' ! I 1 111 1lll.:d i":Vi ll Gcn nun law, lhe legal gcs tlln~ 01' ¡WO ]la rties nll:ting tllc il IlH nds ovc r ¡IId l hcads and pressing their pal ms togclhcr lO indi c¡uc agrc.!cmclll wo uld likcly have m ade peQp lc stop and look . 7" In our own society, so does nri sillg onc's hand to swear an oath , all the m ore so beca use of the thi nly -veiJed threa l 0 1 assault it a ppears to pose to lhe in terlocutor. ln the process of creating co mm unity in space, legal gesture also crC<JLes com m unity in ti me. As conventiona li7..ed forms , lega l geslures a re necessa l ily re-enactm ents a nd re-endorsements of the past.?' In the sh orl term, Lhey remind gesturors and witnesses of previous gestural perform ances. In Ih\! lo ng term, they may rell1 ind those persoos of some past gestll re or experien cc tha t was critical in the history of the coml11 unity. T he bond with the past is physically reaffirmed , wru le d irection is ph ysically set for the future. Saying all this docs not necessarily mean tha t legal gestu re rea rfi rrns the communal past exactly as it was. Especi ally in societies with little or l1() experience with wri ting (ami /or other graph ic teehniques), legal gestures can change subtlely over time. In the absence of physically-recorded standar
F. M"e11lflnicfunctions Legal gcsture can serve several functions which might he dcs\,.Ti hed as "mne mon ie: ' i.c .• rum:Üons wh id l help Lo enSllre lhc sun'ival \11' Iq'al inl',lrmalión in the mcmory 01' 11u.: c\)l1l nJ un ily, Thesl! rllndinm; an: C~ r 1('~·l:t llv critica l I ,.,
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withill (i1ltho llg h Ihuy a n! Ilil rd l) IlIlI itl'd to) slicit:lics which hu,,!! had liUk or no expericllcc will! wri li ng ./(' LegaJ gCli lurc's most illl portanll1lllel1lonic fundion is its prov l ~i on 0 1' non verbal sensory inputs wh ieh are not only mnemonical1y powerful in themsel ves, bul which rcinrorce lhe I1lnemollic impact of verbal infofllJ(lti(ll1 accom pany ing a legal transaction or relationship. Fo r insta nce, legal gestu re generall y provides participants and witnesses with a dynam ic visual im age. N Ul1le rous psychological studies have shown that a visual image is more mem ora ble than a verbal dedaration, and that a dyna mic visual il1lage is even more memor able than a sta tic one. 77 In fact, t he more vi sua ll y-interesting or o yn am ic th e action perforll1ed, the more mnemonically successful it tends to be. Thi s was certainl y the intuitive unde rstanding of one R oger de Mon tgomery who, according to a thirteenth century French docull1ent, wa nted to im p ress on witnesses the ex tent of land he had just transferred to an abbey: " [H ]e threw his son Ro bert de BaIleme, dressed in a min iver doak , into the water, in witness and memory that the domain 01' the abbott and monks extended up to there. "n It is diffic ult to believe that anyone ever forgot that act. Studies have also shown that recall tends to improve dramatically when vis ual medi a are added to verbal media .7Y In tllis context., it m a kes a great deal of sen se to have someone perform a legal gesture over and aboye pronouneing a legally significant formula . E ven today, "the sight of a couple standing han d-in hand at the alta r, being joined and blessed by the priest, ... lasts longer in imagination and memory than the [mere] wording of any ceremony , hea rd now and then by lhe congregants... ." NO Of course, for the person making it, legal gesture is also a kinetic, li terally moving experience. x1 The feeling of movement may be memorable in itself. partly beca use 11l0vement demands personal involvement and attention, and partly because it is physically satisfying and enjoyable. In this context, per rorming a legal gesture (such as raising a hand to swear an oath) enables the memory of the legal change or relation to be i.nscribed in the bodl 2 where it is not onIy retained. but reanimated and reinforced with every subsequent inscription. " In the process of movement, many legal gestures invo'lve or culminate in physical contact with an object or another persono Harnessing tactility to visual and kinetic action reinforces a legal gesture's mnemonic value by not only providing an additional hook 1"rom which memory can hang, but by pro viding a stimulus that is particularly intimate, personal, and powerful. In Ihe cleventh century, William the Conqueror demonstrated an appreciation 01' these things when he somewhat facetiously suggested that driving él knife illl O the hand 01" a grantee (presul1lably causing outright pain) would be the II1os1 ctTecti ve way lo rnClll oria.li7c the giving of land. ~4 In addili o n lo provid lng non -verbal sensory in puts for particip ants and wit nl.:ssl!s lo legal c]¡u n¿.ll.: :Ind rd a lilln. legal gesture can support mem ory ill ui hn Icss ()hvin ll s. I"',h : ' ]l~" 1110 m prosail: ways. r or instance, we have ·' - 1
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previ ously :icen t hu t gc:¡[ u r~ í.:all a II ral;t COllll l1U lI it y " lll'lIl h) 11 t() a n im POli a IJ 1 legal event. A ttract ing attenlion im plidlly suppOrl¡; rncnw ry by cnsuri ng. lhlll the reco rd of an event wi llllot be jeopa rdiLcd by lh e doalh or fnrgctrllllll:!llS ni a few witneS8es (wh ich helps lo expl ain l he aforemcntio ned phenomen o n (Jf having or mandalin g more witnesses fo r cspcl;ially critical legal cvents). Lega l gesture can also facil itate remembrance by what I previously descri beJ al' its sim plicity and comprehensibility. Wha t is simple and comprehensiblc what fi lS jnto an easily~recognizable pattern of beha vior o. intcraction - is mo re li kely to be remembered th an wha l is com plica ted and Llnintell i gi bl e . ~" T he relati ve sim plicily and comprehensibi lity o f hand ing over a cl od of ea rth to represent a transfer ol' land ownership or wash ing one's hands to d issolvc a contract there fore helps to pl an t the mem ory of lega l events and transac tionsfirmly in the m inds of witnesses. Simplici ly and com prehen sibililY aTe espccially critical for memory when witnesses are child ren. In the Middlc J\ges, chi ld ren were consi dcrcd L1seful witnesses lO legal transactions beca use of their expected long life-spans rela tive to other mem bers of tbe communi ly. Most children, however, had but a limited comm and of complex verbal language: they were much more likely to understand , and hence remember. relatively straightforward geslures. xr, G. Regulatol'jI filll ctiol1.y
Legal gesture can regulate the behav ior 01' individuals. In oth er words, it can encourage or discourage certain courses of personal conduct. In the first place, legal gesture can discourage people from entering int certain types 01' transactions or relations which are deemed socially undesir able.~7 Because legal gestl1res are necessarily public, they expose peopte an u their behaviors to the view and judgment of a potentially large number 01' others. The very prospect 01' this public exposure, and Ihe fact that a legal ges l ure physieal1y. intimately, and inevitably associates one with a legal changc or relation (contras t this with the physical and psychological distance which writing sets belween contract and con tractor, grant and granlor, etc.) may discourage individuals from entering into transactions which \Vould lcad to social stigma or criticismo l n this context, legal gesture can be a sllbtle force for social conformity. Legal geslure can also conlribute to conformity insofar as it is explicitly dialogic· i.e., insorar as it not only requircs the presence, but lhe active participation of others. The more social1y-undesirable él lcga l change or relalion is, the more difficult it becomes to obtain this acti ve participation , and hence the more difflcult it becomes to either effect the change or relati on and /or preserve it in the m ind ofthecommllni ly as a whole. Legal gestLu'e can perform a second regulalo ry function by chan ncling lhe physical reactions 01' parties or witnesscs to legal cha nge é1wa y fnJll1 danger ous ..Iel:; (su¡;h as lile commissiOIl of violcncc) which migh l 01 hcrw is\! be
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promptcd by tire loss (u r ullothl!TS !,'ól in) occasioneJ by so me legal change. ~x Ili slorically. a nUlllbcr 01" legu l gcslLm:s sccm lo have been specially fitted to I his rol e. U nder lhe la w 01' lhe Sali an F ra n k s, fo r instance, a person break ing off farni ly LÍes \vould b reak t'o ur staffs aboye his head and then cast them into the fo ur corners ol' a room. ~9 In early medieval rrance, a vassal COLlld ana logously disavow his fe udal bond by throwing a stick 01' straw at his erstwhile 10rd.'JÜ These conventional legal geslures inevitabl y constrai ned personal beha vior while still gívín g vent to vo latile persOTlal feel ings at critical moments of truth a nd confrontation. T h ird and finally, legal gesture can increase
bU'lier in this artic1e J described legal gesture as being potentially evidentiary 01' a gesturor's mental stale (see supra "Evidentiary functions"). But legal gesture need not be psychologically passivc. Indeed, there is cvidence lo supporl the proposition lhat legal geslure can act ua lly induce critical psycho logical changes in bOlh gesturors and witnesses. To bcgin, legal gesture helps crea te or support the perception lhat a given legal event is important. As noted previollsly, gesturing demands a personal invcslmenl of time and cnergy. Gesturors must sbow up and perform; wit Ilesses must sho\\' up, walch , and perhaps perform as wel \. By sanctioning and I'equiring such socially inconvenient and sometimes even physically tax illg activilics. law implicitly encourages people to lhink that al1 event (such as a marriagc, or lhe ma king of a will) has unusual significance for individuals ami rOl' the comm unity al large? Lc¡w l gesluré can alt;o ()wn:ome whal some anthropologists call " sales resislancc""" ti) a k!gHI 1ro nsaL'1 illll the inst indivc unwillingness o f persons
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(lIs ua ll y wit n~ssl!s ()I" b ys l un d~rs ) tu rCl.:ogntzc ti l.:o nll .lll I H I d¡¡l l O I1 whidl i.' dbudvan lagco us lo lh l.!nl . u r wh iciJ givcs somcnnc cisc 11 11 IIdv: llll agu . I.uga l gesture can accol1lplish lhis nol- inco llsid era ble fea l by prov id illg an oppo j" tun ity for th e oerno nslralitm 01' act ual or lale nt physical a nd ma lerial powc J'. In rnedieval E uro pe. for in stance, fe udal relal io ns hi ps wcre doubtless s uc cessful in parl becausc or the grea l p by:;icul and social powcr presenl or la lenl in the various gestures (e.g., kneeling. folding and cnclosing hands) in volvcd in in vestiture and homage. Those gestures necessarily atTected the psyche the witnessing co mrnunity; they subtl ely enco uraged its member~ to respec:t what had been done. thereby ensuri ng the success of feu da ll a w. In th is c on text, legal gesture in hUn1éUl socicty m ay be sa id lo sharc charactcristics gener a lly associa ted with gest llre in the animal kingdom .93 T here geslures are a n efficicnt means oL in/er afia. establ ishing rcla lion and showing d orninancc.'J4 Elaborate rnovernents and displ uys a re deployed by rnarnmals and birds lo sec ure a rnate, a nesting arca, or other si m ilar a dvan lage. The more resistance there is or rnight be to an undertaking beeause 01' what is at stake , the grander, more deliberate, or m ore elaborate gesturing tends to be.0 5 Such a use 01' gesture frequently enables resistance to be overeome without harmf ul or costly physical st r uggle.% In the process of shaping the reaction 01' witnesses, legal gesture can a lso prompt gesturors to feel ernotions that directly dispose thern towards a legal exercise' s ultirnate end. Gesture's general powcr to induce ernotion in its practitioners has long been recognized by the C atholic Church, and even by sorne prorninent Protestants. The Calho!ic Encyclopedia c1airns that "cerernony" (which it notably defines as "an external aet, gesture or rnovement which accornpanies ... prayers ... and public ... worship") is ernployed " to excite in the faith ful sentiments of respect, devotion ,m d religion."~7 In the sixteenth century, M artín. Luther said of religio us rites, "the in ward experi ence fo11ows ami is effected by the outward."9~ Law appears to have taken advantage 01' this so-ca11ed "disciplinary" capacity ol' gesture 99 earl y on. Ln the medieval homage cerernony, for instance, the vassal's gestures 01' k neeling before the lord and then offering his lips for the lord to kiss would likely have induoed feelings 01' subordination appropriate to the success 01' the new feudal relationship. Less obviously , but perhaps even more fun d arnenta11y, legal gesture can create a feeling 01' empowerrnent in the person who executes it -- él feeling that rather than being contro11ed by law and legal obligation, an individua l controls those things. This feeling 01' control is directly induced by gesture's mode 01' obligational or relational creation one pcrforrns a rnajor physieaJ maneu ver which directly contributes to making one lega11y-bound. The fac r t hal legal gesture is both inlensively and exte nsively eorporeal (i.e., it needs mo re energy and it usually invo lves more o r the body tha n writi ng) m 'l.~,'I1 ífies the scn se con lro1. II W1 Through geslure. law litera11y bccnmcs ti r arl 01' the peniOn.
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Bu t lh\.:sc w\.:akncsscs nI" wril ing :Irc lhe vcry strc lI ~'t1 l :- n I gcstun.:. ,,~ WI." ha ve seen, legal gcsturc Jemo nstral\.:s legal mca lli ng and Ilu.:n.:by prol1loks infonned choice ano consen!. Il c rea tcs incl usive communiti\.:s in spacc und in time. II is an intimate, inevi tably eorporeal medi um th a t givcs oniinul y indi viduals a sense tha t they literaJ ly make the law. tha t it is truly thei rs. Perhaps ont reason (apart from overplayed "tradi tion") why gesture su rv ivcs o n the margins ofmodern law is because, cven in the faee of writing, these anJ other ca pacities of gesture are still im portan t lO uso Perhaps we :;hake hamJs on a cont ract because we need to create and to pu blicly manifest a solidaril y with another pcrson that transcends words. Perhaps, in ma rriage, we exchangc wedding rings a nd c1asp hands in order to ex prcss amI release cmo tions necessaril y incidental to (and indeed su pportive of) the occasion. Perhaps we manually hand over deeds to com plete a eonveyancc so that \ve mayo in an intimate. bodily sense, share in a nd endorse the transfer of a primary fonn of wealth - or pe rhaps, when the st akes are so high. we feel the need tt demonstrate our in tent to transfcr in the most o vert and unambiguous wa y. Recognizing that gesture is not inherently inferior to writing, but rather that it has different funetional strengths, may give us a new perspectivc o n it:; role in [he legal pasl as well as in the legal present. In the late c1assical world and again in the early modern period, gestu re arguably gave way to wri ting as a legal instrumentality not because it was "primitive, " but beca use il per form eu funetions that socicty no longer valued as mueh as it once had. 102 For ins tanee, as a modality, legal gesture supports eomm unity, but this was surely less signifieant in Hellenistic aod post-medieval European ci vi lizations which put a greater emphasis on individ ualism and privacy. Legal gesture make~ legal tran sactions memorable, but memorability was less critical in late ancient anu early modern cultures that eould readily preserve even the mosl unmemQrab1e transactions on parchment or papeL Legal gesture perfomls several regulatory functions, but these were seemingly superfluous in soeieties which by the first century RC allLl the sixteenth century A.D. IO ) had gener ated centralized sta te struclures commanding powcrful physical sancli ons and detcrrents. Legal gesture deliberately harnesses the mind to the b ody. bu l sU0h harnessing was problema lic in a Europe whieh Ilrst learned to d istr usl the bod y under the tutelage of early Christian asceticism , allLl then in lhe seventeenth centu ry segregateu and further denigrated it under the infl uence of form al Cartesian philosophy. In these environments, legal gesture cOllld be, and was, rcadil y marginali~ed . T his analysis o f legal gesture's p lace in the past has definite implica lioll s t"(¡ r its place in the fulure. There are many indications tha t "modernism " i:; collapsing - lhat we are tu rning a wa y from the indiviJ llalist, abstracl, ano cth¡;: f"cal (some would say genera J1y "alien uling" ) va lllcs nI' the post I':n lightcnmcnt era . Thcrc is a ncw lo nging ror communil Y, C\)III.:reh:ncss, i.1l1t1 cmhod i m~ n l. 111 t his con lext, wri l i ng'~ w~lknesscs as " Iq'; d ill"lllIl1lcnlali l lile hccOI lling mO l !.! IlIa nilc!\1. cvcn (o.- pcrhup~ ~·l>pc~· i . il l yl u" i lll III 1'IC;¡ ~ill ~ 140
I1llln lll~r nI" legal scli o la ls IIse wllIIlI g lo direcl ly U1 ld indirccUy ph!ad for Ihe new normal ive agenda . By UIC salllc lOken, gesturc's strenglhs are bccom ing increasil\ g.Iy important ami releva n!, al1 tJ1e more so bcca lL~e vidco a nd com puler Icchn o logy has lately intervened in fa vo r o f gesturc by making it rcadily recordable, tra nsmissible, and (in virtual reaJ ity) simulable. As a result , gcsture, 1ike writing, has become potent ial1y permanent and indepcndent of physical I04
co-presence. Ideological1y and technological1y, the refore, legal gesture stands reaoy for a reviva!. lI ere 1 am not suggesting that it wil1 (or that it sho uld) re place writing as a legal instru mentality. 1 am simply sa ying tha! given our changing c ultu ral p liori lies and our new technical abi lities il may prove useful and conven ient f OI" us to slIpplement our everyd a y legal tra nsactions (lhe making of contracts, the ma ki ng of will s, the transl"er 01" land, etc.) with more legal gestures, and to make more legal1y binding the gestures that now inrormaUy supplement and evidence written law - just as, in later antiquity an d in t he late M iddle Ages, it pro ved cultural1y useful and technically convenient to supplement legal gestllre with more lega l writing and to make more legally bind ing the writing that then supplemen ted an u evideneed legal perform ances."J5 In light of what 1 have said in this Arl ic1 e, I do not think that the former deve10pment should necessarily be feared . 1ll6 Indeed , I thin k we should eonsider using legal gesture pro-actively to create a more communal , more concrete, more corporeal , and ultimately more compelling legal fll ture for our:;elvcs. I07 In the end, \Ve may find that u ne of the best ways to reform law is to re-member it.
Notes A C anad in n legal scholar. working within a pcdagogically-similar enYironmenL has gone so far as to describe contelllporary legal education as a form of " literacy trainin g." DcCoste, 1990: 61. See also Lepow, 1992: 78 (" Law ycrs sce the WOJld as wha t can be written down in doeumcnts.") . 2 On spoken languagc in various legal settings, see, e.g. , Conley et aL , 1990; Ain sworth , 1993; Saral et al. , 1989; Gill , 1988. On contem po rary legal perform ances, see. e .g. , Ball, 1975: 81; Beyer, 1988. On the sigrl
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7 Sorne scholars prerer to labd al least sorne legal gcstures " legal acts. " "01 instance. it has been suggested that the terrn "gesture" is inadeqllatc as a dcscriplltl 01' poten tia lly complicatcd lega l proccdurcs that involve mulliple physicall11o ~' menls a nd even mu ll iple actors. Sec, e.g.. V iberg, 1992: 9. 1t has also bee n su /-l gcslcd lhat eertain legal gestures (such as tra nsferring the straw o r !wig refern:<1 lo aboye) are "acts" beeause they have efficacious physical resulls . nlcre i~ something to both 01' these points. I nonetheless intend to eschew th e term " Icga l aet" in this A rticle. In th e first place, th at term docs no t s uggest co rporea l p hy sicality as un eq uivocall y as does " lega l gesture. " In the seco nd place. the p hys ical cfficacio usness of movem e nt s need nol defeat th eir status as ges tures so long ¡IS they reta in symbolic significance beyond t he ir physical outcomes: in other word ~ . passing a stra\\' nI' twig to another person may validly be cOllsidered a gcstu n: insofar as it has an importance (which , as representing the convey
14
Il caly. 1'l'IO: lO.!.. fiel: a l ~ " 1'111111.111 1')<)(\. 111 thi ~ I:,)IIWXI il iN inlc rcsli ng lo Illlll' I hal postcrs pI'< 1111( 1I iltllll , 11I1l·1t1 IlIl llO II¡1I c¡¡lIIpa igll a¡!a in SI yout h violclwt:: ICature 11 01 '1111y lhe sIOgH Il "Sqll;t SIt il. " hut;tl! accoll1pa nyin g gcsture ora li~ t restrained by a l'U ppcJ ha nd. K Olltall . 1')94. Sce also Thol1léls . 1991: 9 ("The Illiddle-class yo u lh 01" wcslern Europe and Am erica have no apparent inhibitiolts about ... g.csliculating ... or e" prcssing their emolions in physica l fo rm o"). 21 Seegcncmlly K urtenbachet a l., 1990; Laurel , 1993: 155 - 158: R Olllanyshyn , 1994 (discussin g tJ le " gestural metaphysics" of cyberspace). 22 See, e.g.. C hasson , 1847; lii bbitts, 1992: Kocher, 199 2; Ko zi ol , 1992; Malul , 1993; Yiberg, 1992. 23 See, e.g.. Major, 1987: Ma lul , 1987; W right , 1986. 24 Am ira , 1902- 26; K oche r, 1981; Letts, 1933: M e lnikas, 1975. 25 T he c10sest legal sch o lars ha ve come to thi s has bcen examining the functions of "legal form a.l ities." T his literatllre is eertainly helpful to th e p resent in vest igatio n , but it is ncil her very nuanced nor altogether applicable (gi ve lt especially th a llegal gesture is merely one formality a mong others). 26 Thi s ordering is not m ea nt to imply an y priority a mo ng fUllctional categories o lher thall a rough prog ression from what J (a ga in , somew ha l arbitrarily) wo uld cOllsider more- to less-o bvious. 1 should emphasize that just as legal gesture is rclatcd to gcsture in gcneral (see Kend o n , 1990), these categories m ay be a pplic able to the use 01' gesture in extra-legal se ttings. 27 Referring to " historical " lega l gestures inevitably prese nt s a problem ofevidcnce. Most 01' our k nowledge 01' thc legal gestures used in dcfunct socielies is tbased on s urviving iconog rap hie reeords co mp rised 01' relie!'s. paintin gs, alld illuminated manuscripts . Alllhese so urces are problematic. In the firsl place, arl in these fonn s " arrests movell1ent and is therefore restricted in th e gcstures it can sho w un
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.\ 1 BaUlll1 ~t ,¡J .. 11175' 152; Silll. lXI/O : 142 4 \. 32 !:iee g~ n e ra ll y Davics. 19S5; Wi lliallls, 195~. A ~illlil ¡¡ r l'I!"'III I,' IS rl'corded ill ti".: n ible (To!Jit 7: 13) and later be<':lIme a promincnl fCU I url! (Ir I1Icdicvall1lat rilllolli;¡J pra<.:tice. Still nguring in contemporar y C hristia n lit u rgy (:;cc. e.g., the matrillltl nial d irc<.:tions 01' the 1977 Epis<.:opalian Prayer Book) , it Illa y have eneou ragcd the English expression "to ask ror [herl ha nd in marriage" (al lhough both I hl! expression and Ihe gesture seern ultimately to have bccn derived frorn the Romall concept of manus, whereby a woman was under the control of - literally, "in tl1(' hands 01''' - her father or husband). Boswell. 1994: 213. 33 Tabuteau, 1988: 120- 121. 34 L evilicus 24: 14. See gc ncrall y Wright, 1986: 434- 35 (" By [lheir gcsturej tlll' wit nesses symbolically confirm their testimon y to the cornTllunity ancl also ae knowledge their respomibili ly in the death 01' lhe <.:rirninal. "). :15 Danet e l al. , 1992: 103. See [l Iso seco 1.1 orthe medieval Bavarian Laws: " Irany free person wishes to gi ve his property to a chur<.:h ... Iet him confirm lb b bcslowal with his own h.lnd through a charter [Ieuer). and lel him <.:all six or mo r\.: witncsses if he wishes. Let thcm pla<.:e their haods on the letter, ami let those whom he asks mark their names there ." Rivers trans., 1977: 118. 36 Malul. 1985: 198. 37 Bauml et al. , 1975: 152. 38 Viberg, 1992: 24. 39 Genesis 48: I 5. Joseph , realizing what his fathcr had done, obje<.:ted: "And Joseph said lo his father, ' Not so, rny father; for this ol1e is the firsl-born [i.c. , more entitledl; put your right hand upon his head.' '' Genesis 48: 19. Compare Israel's gesture wi lh that reported by the plaintiff in a Mesopolamian Nuzi lawsuit: "My father Hu ya was ill and he lay on (his) bed . And my father took my hand, and spoke to me thus: ' My other, older SOI1S have laken wives, but you ha ve not taken a wife. Therefore I Hm giving you Sulili-Ishtar as your wife. , .. Quoted in Speiser, 1955: 252. 40 G aius. 1946: 237 (de Z uleta trans.). 41 In the Middle Ages, however, not all gestures literally indicted their material or legal (as opposcd to their hu man) objects. Th us in eleventh century Normandy, many legal gestures made on the occasion of gifts to churches employed books wh ich had no <.:Iear relationship to the object of gift. Tabu teau, 1988: 127.. 28. 42 T he objects by thcmselves ll1arked nothing unless aod unti l gestures wcre made. To the extent that the obje<.:ts werc physically preserved afterwards, they werc supposed to proll1pt recollection of the gestllres which had given them Illeaning in the IIrst place. Thus. an English chronic!eT writing circa 1100 noted that a cup given to Du rham Cathedral on the o<.:casion of a gift of la nd "is preserved in the church and retaills the Illemory ofthat dced forever." C1anchy, 1979: 24 (quoting Simon of Durhall1 , S)mleonis Mo/'/achi Opera Omnia). Sec also Fichtenau , 1991: 32. 43 Bractoll, t 977: 125 (T horne trans.). 44 Le Goff, 1980: 245. 45 "Highlighting" has recently been defined as mak.ing "specifk phenomena in a eomplex perceptual field salient by ma rlUng them in sOllle rashion.'· G oodwi n, 1994: 606. 46 Tiersllla. 1988: 3 (describing this in terms of a separation belween the ordinary and the extraordinary) . 47 ¡liad: 1.2:1:\ - 36.245 . 48 See Le Goff, 1980: 239 (quoling G uillaumc D urand's Speculul/1 Juris (1271) : "LI Ije who does hOlll age, on his knces, pla<.:~ his hands betwccn Ihe hallds 01' his lorJ éJlld does hi m homage: he proll1ises on his honor, ami tlt.! lord, in a rcdprocal si[!Tl 01' I'ailh givcs him él kis~. " ).
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el al. . 1'1'11 K~ I 1" 11111'11 pl:r llll'llliln(;4' durin A! lhe pr,'.;c lllalion oJ' vcrh.t1 nl ilh:rial IlI ay cllhall ':C 1.·(; t11 flc rl'nrnlallcc." J. Sec also Mc Neil. 1')1)2 : 245 ( ~ U c~ llI rcs \Jcc ur .. . hCC:t Il Sl' Iltey are part 01' the spea ke r's ongoing lhoughl prlll:(! ~s. Without Ihl!1II rhought wo uld be aItered or in<.:omplete."). :'iO 1len: Icga l geslure might be saiJ to serve a mental "chan ncling" funCl'ion (not to be conru~ed. however, with t.he regula to ry ·'<.:hanneling" J'unction ). 51 Li vy's description of a legal gestllre supposedly perrorrned by the Carlhaginian general Hannibal in asso<.:iation with an offer to liberate all the slaves who haJ a<.:<.:Ompanicd their masters on service in Italy with the Carthagioian army in the lhird ccntury S.e. : "To prove the genuineness ofth e~c otTe rs, tak ing a lamb in hb left hand and a stone in his ri gh t, he prayed to Jupiter and the ot.her gods lhat if he broke his word, they would serve him as he \Vas about to serve the lamb whereupon he <.:rushed the anima!'s head with the sto ne. The gesture suc ceeded .... " Li\y , 1965: 71 (de Selineollrt Irans.). 52 '1'0 this exlenl legal gesture. Iike other legal formalitje~ , has a "euutionary" aspect. See a lso infra , "Rcgulatory F unclÍons .'· 53 See. for instance , Peter the Chanter's statement : 'The gesture of lhe body is an argument and proof of lhe devotion of the mind .'· Quoted in Koziol , 1992: 60. 54 T he <.:apacity 01' this and other gestures for evideneing intent was in faet deellled so great lhat emly medieval la\\' frequently eoll~psed intent into aetioll, assuming the former from the lalter (a tendcney whieh some scholars ha ve mistaken for a medieval disregard oF intcnt). See gencrally M ueller, 1955: Rosen, 1985: 52; Sayre, 1932. 55 T he emotional eapacity 01' gesture in genera 1 has been re<.:Ogn ized for a lon g ti me. In the early Middle Ages, the Carolingian seholar Aleuin observed that by kneeliog for worship C hristians "show forth our hum bleness ofheart." Quoted in "Genuflexion " in 6 (.'otholic Encyclofledio, 1908: 423. 56 On liminality generaIly, see Genncp, 1960. 57 See Ke ndon, 1985: 226 ("Gesture ... comes in hand y because being the ki nd 01' expressive mcdillm that it is , it allo\Vs fol' the possibility of representing aspects of experience that can be represcnted in words at best only indire<.:tly a nd in sorne respects not at aH. !t is irnpossible to display the appearanee of action exeept by so me form of a<.:tion , for example. The representation of spatial arrangements eannot be accomplished directly in words, but by moving the ha nds of the body about in space it is possible to demoTlstratc Ihem."). 58 On the clarificatory <.:apacity of gesture generally. scc KelIerrnan , 1992: 241. One study reported by Kellerman involvcd sllbjeets guessing (In object from descrip lions <.:omrnuni<.:aled by: (1) sound alone; (2) sound and racial expressions: ami (3) soulld and ph ysiogra phi<.: gestures denoting sire, shape 01' move menl. T he subje<.:ts pcrformcd besl under the third set 01' <.:Onditions, in whieh gestures had been used. 59 Viberg. 19lJ2: 134. Compare the Hittite Laws, in which thc severing of ties between parent ami child involved a mOlher removing her son 's robe, demon strating the withdrawal of famiLial protection . Kruger. 1988 : 113. (JO Kilmer, 1974: 180- 82. This gesture rcsonates with the wen-known gesture of Ponlius Pilatc, the first eentury Roman governor 01' Judea. dcmonstrating his renllt1<.:iation 01' responsibilily for the dealh of .lesus. Sec M({IIh.ew 27:24: " Pilate . .. took wa ter and washed his hands before the crowd saying, ' 1 é1m innocent of lhis ma n's blood ; see to it yourselves '" (J 1 Ste incr. 1994: 68 . 1>:: BoswelI, 1<>94: 51. (J,\ (ium hri<.:h. 1<)!;2: 71.
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1')75 . 1 12 li t ( '''lI lpa l 1: I he 11 IInl: 11 I ~h-""l'p l i llllloll1 ( N 11 /1 ) 1" al;1 ICe tClll veying tan u. wh el1,:i/l lhe ~clle r re lllllvcu hi s 1,,, \1 11 1>11 1 IlIl' lall U all(ll'la w d the fO OI nI' lhe buyer in ils place, lht! l'l:by ucru o llstlllll /l).! a <.:h a nJ.!c ill cUlllrpl. Viberg. 1992: 161. 65 ¡liad: 19.299 300. 66 Q uoted in Watson, 1991: 11. Compare a trealy ceremon y between Ih e ROIl1 ¡¡II ~; a nd C arlhaginians (279 B.e.) described by Pol ybi u~ : ' '[l~lhe oa th by Juppiler Isil; 1 Lappi s is as follows. The méln \Vho is swearing to lhe treal y ta kcs in his han d ¡¡ stone, and when he has s\Vorn in the name ofthe sta te, he says ' If I abidc by l his my oath m a y all good be mine , bul if Ido otherwise in thought or act, let all o lller men dwell safe in their ow n countrics under their o w n laws and in po ~ssio n (Ir their o wn substance. temples and tombs. an d ma y I al one be cast forth , even as lhis sto ne' , a nd so saying he throws lhe stone from his ha nd ." [bid. al 44 . 67 By this stage in my analysis the tareful reader will have noted lhat whil e I have acknowledged the various "indicative," " evidentiary," and "demonstr<Jtivc" fulll.: tions 01' legal gesture, I ha ve slopped short o f suggesting thar legal gesture is "perforrnative," i.e. , that it can aClually accom plish (as opposed to merely mal'~ or show) legal change or relation. T here is admitted ly some evidence to suppo rt the latter proposition. F or instance, a medieval r reneh manuscript re lates tha! in the year 98 L d uring the negotiations between the German emperor O tto 11 a nd Hugh ('...apet of Franee , Otto inten lionally left his sword on a chair and askCll Hugh lo pick it up. A F rench bishop, fearing that I-I ugh would there by be lega ll transmuted inlo Otto's swordbeare r (i.e . feudal slJbordinate), snatched it frolll his hand. Schmitt, 1990: n In this context Otto and the bishop obvio usly bclieved Ihal the gesture W<JS .j¡self legally efficacious, even ir Hugh did not. No te also the situation described by the republican Roman pla ywright Terrence in his comedy Al1dria, where a young and somcwhat besotted m a le characte r co n siders himself m a rried to an unlikely (indeed , illegal) panner by virtue of the fae! thal she put ber right hand in his while the Iwo were standing at her rnoth er '~ deathbed. My own opinion is that in Ihese and most other historical contexts, true legal efficacy lay not in such gestures on their own, but rather in lhe holistic " perform ances" during which gesturcs, words and sometimcs other media wcre deployed together in the presence of witnesses. See generally I-libbitts. 1992: 941 - 954. It would, I thin k, he incorrect to tak e the (oflen culminating) pan for the whole , or to conclude that the necessary was sufficient. The alternative would have o pcned up to o many possibilities for rnistake ,wd abuse not lo mention eornedy, reca lling Terrence. This conclllsion is specitically supported by Viberg in the eontext of ancient H ebrew oath-ceremonies: " [T)he act, together with the utterance, is wh at actu all y makes the oath function in a legal sense. In other words , the aet amI the uttcrance togcther accomplish the oath. " V iberg, 1992: 24. See also lLi llers. 1990: 160 (emphasizing rhe performativity 01' legal "ceremonies " which al way~ included words). 68 Sce Carlisse, 1928: 705 (referring to witnesses " varying in number <Jecording lo the value of rhe object whose ow nership was conveyed " ). 69 Le Goff, 1980: 274. 70 Fichtenau , 1991: 31 C'[A)nyone w ho did nol participate remai ned oUlside. In tl,is way ceremon y established tommuni ty '·). 71 Mo n'is , 1968 : 306 . 72 H uebncr, I (J I!): 49 5. TJ $ee Rap paporl , 1992 (speaking in a somew hal brnad¡;r hlll sl ill an:¡\ n!.!ous t o ntexL "To per/úrlll a lil u rgica l ord er ... is perfor¡;1! I() 1'11/1/" /'/11 lo 111:1 I .. rUer." ) 01'
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1-+ See, e.¡..r,.. I.cl ts , 1'),\ \: 511 1 ( IIN\II\ 11 1(111 ).\ ,IIe cilrclü l depiclioll OrlllllllCrOllS gcslurcs in illlllllill:llcd III;Jllll ~.:"pl ~; 01 Ihe (. ínn¡;11I Sacll.\·(,I/.I'ph'Kd with "a rigid 1'ormal iSIll , which in lime becillllc Sil ly rallllical lhal il was unsafe 10 takc even lhe si mp ksl ~ICp in procedure with o llt the assistalll:e nf ski lIed advisers. "). Compare I he mcui eval 11a lian experience: " ltaly very early shows a tendency toward rigidity rilu al in lhe realm of symbolic geslure, since il was qu ick lo employ writi ng in conlleclion wilh lhese ceremonies, and whal is wrilten down is more difficult to cha nge Ihal1 wh a l is not. '· Le Gofr, 1980: 264. 75 A l le<Jst to people within a gi ven society, if not always to observers from oulside. 76 " Even in lhe absence of él charter, mem ory 01' él transaction , if not 01' its exa el provisions, could be preserved by illite rate partici pa m s, witllesses a nd neighbo rs and evcn by subsequent generations. For thcse peo ple, sym bolic actions ... were ... prim a ry means of maintaining cont inuity in culture and social st ructure." White , 1988: 37. 77 Many 01' these are reviewed in .I a handarie , 1987. 78 Tabuteau. 1988: 151. 79 Wood
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ha[dJ 011 , pulling thclll thrllug h tiJ¡; lin ~ s 01 his them at Ra o ul." Kay eJ. and trans. , 1992: vv. 2121 2 1 \5. 91 In a broaJer conte.\ t, it has been observed [hat "imprcssive ¡;¡;rcmonics, sud , ;1 ' royal ¡;oronations, presidcntial inaugurations, weddi ng eeremonics Ic;¡¡;h o f whi cl l involves multiple gestures) ... visibly demonstrate the serio us nalure 01' certaill p romi ses ." Holmes, 1993: 626. 92 E.g., Knight , 1993: 6. 93 See generall y Kendon , 1992: 182 (,,[MJa ny human gestures !ll a y :;how a n a log i ~ ~ with the displays o r a n imals, which a re interpreted by etholog isls as ritualizali o lls of acts of withdra wal , approach , aggres ~i o n an d so on. "). 94 See generall y Laughli n et al, 1979. 95 Sec K rebs , 1987: 169 ("By a na logy with human advertising. the coun le rp loy 1\1 sales resistance is to ine rease lhe sales pitch , to make lhe signa l loude r, mM,' repetitive, more conspicuous, in facl lO modify it in a ny way that wiJl ove rco lllc the raised threshold of the reactors."). 96 K n ight, 1993: 6.
97 3 Cal/w/ic Ency dopedía, 1908: 538.
98 Quoted in Eire, 1986: 72.
99 See Schmitt, 1989: 130.
100 In a somewhat-analogous contexL il has heen suggested thal "[t]he physieality 1,)1 geslure . . . has a valuc in itsclf. ... Co mpare conducting music wilh tcxt uaJl y spe¡;i fyin g lempo changes and emphasis. T he physicality of (he inleraction con tributes to lhe ... satisfaction of the conductor." Kurtenbach et al., 1990: 31 2. 101 See generally Stock , 1983: 88 - 240. 102 This is not to suggest, however, that society's embrace 01' new va lucs or its devel opment o f new capaci ties in these historical contexts was completely unre lated to the sprea d ofwriting. See generally Ka tsh , 1989; Obon , 1994; Ong, 1982. 103 See M eyer, 1988; Eire, 1986; Bremmer et al. , 1991. 104 It might be argued that by allowing gestural cornmunication to take place oulsidc of a literal face-to-ta.c e environment, these developments potentially reduce legal gesture's capacity to create com munity. W hile this mal' be true (indi¡;atiJlg, ink,. alía , that the new techn o logy is hardly él social o r legal panacea, and TIlay ew n create new problems by complicating the rclationship between the "perceiveu" and the "real " ), it may still be said that evcn rccorded, transmitted, or (in virtual realily) electronically-simulatcd gestllres performed by individuals befo !'.: electronicaJly-presenl witnesses induce feelings of communal participation an d accountability more read ily than docs writing (recaJl, for instance . thc tendcncy 01' lhe ¡;onternporary television audience to instinctivel'y relate to - Le. , expcrieoU! "com rn unity" with - an embodied television pe rsonality or eharacter d esp ite Ihe absence ofany direct physical contact). 105 This does not mean that the legal gestures of the future willnecessaril y be lhe same as the legal gestures 01' the past. In decades to come, technologi <:s sllch a s virtual reality m ay in fact enable us to perform legal gestllres in a computl,; r generated, mutually-inclusive cyberspace that would have been physically impos sible and perhaps evcn inconceivable in a "live" environment. If anything, t h is should make legal gesturc more versatile than ever. For a brief discussion 0 1' the revolutionary illlplications 01' virtual reali t y for the future 01' law (¡¡¡¡d , po ten tiaJly, 01' Icgal gcsture), see Pruitt et al. , 1991: 405 (" Ja rgnn-I oad cd an d a bstrae t docll ments willlra ns!"o rm , becoming d yn ami¡; aclor:; in cy ber~r;lI:c, h )l' cxa m plc, eo nl rac(s wi ll he a cornposile cybc rspacc o bjce t tlla l 1111' I caJ I; 1 1::111 hll,; p illsidc ,,1
I·I!)
:Ind ill which In: en ll \11 :, 11 IlIl"hl' IlIl c¡:ICliw llb lccts that simulate lhe p rodu(;\ 0 1' ,>\.' r v i¡;l~ Ihat is h\.! ing ¡;,H¡II ¡¡¡;I\.:d " ). 10(, Lll p OW , 191)2: 123 (" ll istul'ica lly, our so\.!iety fears visu a l [i.e. imagistic/gestural] clI.preSMl)Jl. "). 107 Recalling Ihe wle (JI' Ihe original Rerormation in marginal izi ng geslure in favor of writing (set: Ei re, 1986; Brel1l111Cr el al. cds. , 19(1), what 1 am proposiug here is something of a legal Counter-Reformation that might eve n tuaJly res to re lhe body lo a more central position in law' s text. Rea li stica ll y. however, I ha rdly cxpect this proposal to be enthusia.sl ically emb raced by contemporary legal schola rs who are wary even of placing greate r fonn a l reliance on oral speech wbich, as language, is more directly elaborative 01' (a nd hence less cha llenging to) the w rillen wo rd than is gesture. 011 this latler wariness, see, e.g. , Collins el a l. , 1990: 1119: "[WJe fin d it curious th a t the new cri tics 01' legal stud ies d evote such great atte ntion to the interpretation 01' texts. A lthough purporting lo represent [in wr iti ng] lhe cause the 'new voices' or 'other voices' they seem deaf to the oral. Put dilTerently , is not the real problcm . .. morc one 01' ... fO ffilat t ha n . conten!""
or
References J. Ainsworth , 1993, " In a Diffe rent Register: Th e Pragmatics 01' Powerlessness in Police Interrogation ," Ya/e LaIV Journa/ 103: 259·- 322 K. von Amira, 1902- 26 , Die Dresdener Bi/derhandschriji des Sach se/l.lpiega/s, L eipzig: K. W . H iersem a nn M . Ball , 1975, "The Play's the Thing: An LJ nscientific Reflection on C Oll11S U nd er t he Rubric ofTheater," S/(f/lfiml L (/lV Rniew 28: 81 - 115 J. Barkai , 1990, " Nonverbal C ommunication from lhe Other Side: Spcaking Body Langllage," San Diego L((IV Rel'ielV 27: 101 ··cI25 B. Bauml and F . Bn uml , 1975, A Diclío/1arv o/Ge.lllIres, M etuche n, NJ: Scarecrow Press M. B erman, 1989, CO/llil1g lO Ollr Sense.l': Body (Jnd Spiril in tite /-lielden /-li.l'lory o/Ihe ~Vesl , London: LJnwin Paper backs G. Beyer, 1988 , " The WillExecution Ceremon y: History , Significanec and Stra t egies," S out/¡ Texas Lall' Review 29: 413 - 444 R. Birdwhistell , 1970, Kinesícs alUl (.'ol1lexl: Essays on Bod J' M Oliol1 (.'ommunic a lilln , Philadclphia: LJnivers.ity of Pennsylvania Prcss J. Boswc ll, 1994, Same- S ex Un ion, ín Premodem E urope , New York : Villi a rd Book s H . Bracton . 1977, S. Thorne trans. , 2 0/1 Ih e Laws amI C USIO!l1.1' o/ Eng/and, C am bridge. MA: Harvard LJniveTsity Press J. Bremmer amI H. R oodenburg eds., 1991 . A Cu/wra/ /-listo,.)' o/ Ge.llure , Ithaca , NY: Cornell LJniversity Press C. Carlisse , 1928, L. Register trans ., A Hi.l'lOry o/hlllian Lmv, Boston: Little, Bl'Own and Company E. Carpcntcr, 1960, 'The New Languages," in E. Carpenter and M. McLuhan eds., t-·xp/o/'{/liol1.1' in Commllnicat;un: An Anth%gy 162- 179, Boston: Beacon Prcss M . C hassan , 1847, E.\,w i .1'11" la S.I'l/dlOliqlle dL/ J)roil , Paris: Vidccoq Fils A ine M . Clan¡;hy, 1979, Frolll M" /I/O/'I' 111 H'riIlC/1 Record: Eng/al/d /066 J307 , C ambridge, M¡\ : Illlrvard l lnivl,;¡,it y P n:,,,~
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.l . Ilcal y, 1'1')0, 1:·I/c!III1.!:t'I't't1 Mil/d.," 11 In' (JI/r ('lIdtlr"" IJol/ 'l nlil/k, New York: SiJ1lo n ami Sch I.Istér D. Il ibbil1s. 1<)92, " 'Coming to Our SCnscs,: COlllmunic¡¡lion and Legal Expression in Performance C ultures. " Emory ¿mi' .Io/lrnal 41 : 873 - 960 B. J-I lbbitts, 1995, "Making Sense of Metaphors: Visu a lity, Au rality and the Reconfiguration of American Legal Discourse," Cart/oz() L aw Reviel1' 16: 229 - 356 D. Hillers, 1990, "Rite: C eremonies 01' Law and T n:aty in fu e A ncient Near East:' in E. Firrnage et al. eds., Re/igiol/ and Lmv: Bibliwl-Judaic anel /slmnic P e/'spel'lives 351 - -364, Winona La ke: Eisenbrauns E. H o lmes, 1993, " Stature and Sld tus of a Promise U nder Seal as a Lega l Forma lit y," Willam elle Lall' Review 29: 617- 668 R . 1J0 uston , 1988, Lileracy in Early Modern El/rope: CI/ltl/re and Educalion 150{) !800, New York: Longlllan R . Hucbner, 1918. F. Philbrick tran s., A H/Slory o( Germcl/l Priva/e Low Bostol1: Little Brown ¡¡nd Company D. Hume, 1888, A Treolise on Human Nall/re , Oxford : C1arendon P ress K. Jahandarie, 1987, "T he Modali ty Effect," unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Stanford University K . .Iones, 1991, "House of Justice: Feminislll in A rchitectllre," Yale Journal o/ ÚJ II' (/nd Feminism 3: 281 - 298 M. Katsh , 1989, The Elel:lroni(' !>-redia and ¡he Transfo rmolion of Loll', New York : O.xford University Press S. Kay ed. and trans. , 1992, RC/oul de Cambrai, New York: Oxford University Press S. Kellerman , 1992, '''1 See What You Mean ' : The R ole of Kinesic Behaviour in Listening ami Implications for F oreign and Second Language Learning," Applied Linguislics 13: 239- 258 A. Kendon , 1985, " Sollle Uses of Gesture," in D. Tannen and M. Saville-Troike eds.. Perspecliv('s 01/ Silence 215 ·· 234, Norwood NJ: Ablex A. Kendon, 1990, "Gesticulation, Quotable Language and Signs:' in M. Moerrnan and ]'vl. Nomura eds., Cullure Embodied, Osaka: Nationa l Museum of E thnology A. Kendon . 1992, "Gesture," in R . Ba uman ed. , Folklore, Culluml Performance.\' (1m! Popular Enlerlainl11el/ls 179- 190, New York: Oxford U niversity Press A. Kilmcr, 1974, " Symbolic Gestures in Akkadian C ontracts rrolll Alalakh and Uga riL " .Ioumal 01' Ihe A".,crim/1 Oriental Soóe/y 94: 177- 183 C. K night. 1993, " R itual and the Origins of Language," paper presented al Lawand Systcms Research 1nstitute workshop, Ann Arbor. M L December 1993 G. Kocher, 1981 , " Sachsenspiegel , Institutioncn. Digestcn , Codex: Z urn Aussagewe rt 1\1 ittelalterlicher Rechtsillustrationen," Fo/'sc!lllllgen ::.ur Rechlsarehaologie und Rl'chl!i('hel/ Volksf..:ul1de 3: 5- 34 G. Kochcr, 1992, Zóc/¡e/l ulld SvmholC' des RecIas. Munich: Verlag C. H. Beck K. Kom a n, 1994, "Squash It'," Harvard Magazine 97: 12 - 1J G. Koz iol, 1992. Begging PI/rdo/l a/l(l Fovor: Rilual Cllld Po/ilical Order in Early Medievl/I Frunce , Ithaca. NY: Cornell University Press .l. Krchs , 1987. "The Evolution 01' Animal Signals," in C. Rlakclllore
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R . Rappapnrl, I')V!, "R itual ," 111 R 11, 111T1J :l 11 \!U , F"lkl",.... ( '111/111'111 l',.,./ im l/tll/t·,·,I' (/lId PII!'lIltI,. bl //a/(/illlll(.·II/.I' 24 1) 2/,0, N\!w York: Oxr~lrd LJ nivcrsity I'rcss
T. Rivc rs Irans. , 1'>77, Llllv.\'of/f¡ e A!iII/IU/ls(/lId Ba varian.\', Phiw delphia: LJnivcrs ity 01' PC l1 nsyl vallia Press R. R() ma ny~ hyl1 , 1994, "The Drea rn Body in Cyberspace.'· P.~ychologiC(/! Perspeilil'e.1 29:90 103 L. Ro ~en, 1985. "1 ntentionality and the Concept of the Persa n," iTl J. Pennock and J. C haprnan eds., Criminal JU.I'/ice 52- 77, Ncw York: New York Uni vers ity P ress A. Sarat and W. Feistiner, 1989, "Lawyers a nd Legal ConsciOllsness: Luw Talk in t he Divo rce L¡lwyer's Office, " Yale L m v j oul'I/a/98: 1663 - 1688 F. Sa yrc, 1932, "Mens Rea," lIarvard Law Re vie l\l 45 : 974- 1026 .J. C. Schmitt, 1989, "The Ethies ()f Gest(jre," in M. Feher ed., Fragmen ls}'or a His/ory o//ite /fl/mu/1 Bor/y 129--147, New Yo rk : Zone J. C. Schmiu, 1990, La Rai.l'on des Gesles dall s /'Occiden/ Medie\l{¡/, P aris: Ga ll imard E. Sienaert, 1990, "Mareel Jousse : The O ral Style /lll d the An thropology of Gesture," Oral Trae/i/ion 5: 91- 106 C. Sittl. 1890, Die Gebordel1 del' Griechen und R omer, Leipz.ig: B. G . Teubner E. Speiser, 1955, " 1 Kn ow Not the Day 01' My Death ," ](JUrnal o/ Bíblical Ulera/ure 74: 252- 56 D. Steiner, 1994, The 'Fvrallt's WriL: My /hs (tI1(I I/II(/gcs (J/ Wri/ing in Anclen / Greel'c, Princeton , NJ: Princeton Unive rsity Press B. Stock, 1983. The Implicilliol1s o/ Lileme)': W,.ílten Language Clnd Mo dels o}' Jnfer prelcLlilJ/l in lhe Elel'enlh and T weljih Cen/uries. Princelon: Princeton Un iversity Press E. Tabuteau, 1988, Tra/1.\j'ers o}' Properly in Elevcnlh-Cenlury Norman LéHt', Chapel ll ill , NC: University of North Caroli na Press K. Thomas, 1991 , " Introduetioll ," in J. Bremmer and H. Roodenburg eds. , A Culfural His/llr).' o/Gesture 1- 14, Ilhaca , NY: Cornell University Press P. Tiersl11a , 1988 . "Ritcs of Passage: Legal Rit ua l in Roman Law and Anthropolo gical Analog ues," Journo! oI Lega! Hislory 9: 3- 25 A. Viberg, 1992, Symbllls o/ La\\': A COl1le.'(/ ua{ Ana/ysi.\' or Legal S~vl11bolic Ac/s in lhe Olel Tes/arn enl, Stockholm: Almq uist amI Wiksell International A. Watson , 1993, In/enwliono¡ La]!' in Are/wic Rome: War (lnd Religioll , Baltil11ore: John Hopkins Univcrsity Press S, White, 1988, CU.I'/Olll. Kinship. (//1(1 Gifis ro SlI inrs: Th e Laudalio Paren/l/m in Wes/em J+allee. ¡050 II50 , Chapel H ill , NC: U niversity of North Carolina Press G. Williams, 1958, "Sorne Aspects 01' Roman Marriage Cerernonics and Ideals," Jou/'I1aloIRol1'/oll S/I/dies 48: 16·- 29 W. Woodall afid J. Folger, 1985, " Nonverhal Cue Contcxt and Episodic Mem ory: On the Availability and Endurance of Non verbal Behaviors as Retrieval Cues," CO/1/ trlunico/iof! MOl1ographs 52: 319- 333 1). Wright , 1986, "TIle Gesture of Hand Placement in the Hebrew Bible and in Hjttite Li lenlturc," Jllunwl of /he American Orienta! SlIcie/)' 106: 433 - 446
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THE AC T OR 'S BOD IE S
Dav;d Graver Suurcc: Ter! und I'er((mnul/ce Quarterl)' 17(1) ( 1')')7): 221 235.
This paper anal yzes the ways in which the actor's bod y asse rts él presence on the stage by arglling that the actor on stagc es tab lishes at least seven distinct kinds 01' co rporeal presence, seven ontologically distinct bodies, each with its o wn kind 01' interior, exterior, and <1 l1to!l omy. T he discussion ranges frorn Broad way sho ws to ordcal artislS and indlldes comments on R ichard Foreman, Holl y I l llghes. Ron Vaw ter, Robbie M cCaul ey , and Bill T. Jones,
Theories of theater commo nly claim that actors exist both as characters in a drama and performers on stage. Clearly the actor's p resence on stage is not unjficd and flxed , but can its ontological shimmer be adeqlla Lely explained by a simple division between character and perforrner? This traditional dichotomy in the actor's existence rests upon a questionable distinction either between artifice and reality or between representation and presentation. The arguments suggest that the actor pretends to be a particular character whi,le remaining his/her real selfl or that the actor represents a character while presenting his/her performance. 2 But what exactly is the distinction between artifice and reality or between presence and representation? laim ing actors are present while the characters are only represented begs too méU1y questions. Both character and actor are present but in their own particu lar ways. 3 1ndeed, the character's presence is usually more vivid than the actor's becallse it is more explicitly defined. We know how to see charac tcrs on lhe stage beca use they make themselves visible within acknowledged i,;l) nven lions 0 1' representa lion. The kinds 01' clothes they weaL what they teH 1I ~ ah\.IlIllhemsclves am ll.!udl olhcr. an e! their paro; in the actio ll all general1y "ud IIp lo lTL.!atl! hl' ings w ilh Cle ll l purpllSl!S tl nd places wilhin lhe world 0 1' a play. I ';'/
1111" lEN
r ile a~tor\ prCSCll l.:C is vagllcr bccausé il is IIslHtllv l',lvcn 111 liS wltholll creJ enti al s. A J iscoursc uat ing fn )nl Ari!>tnlk subo rd ln ates lhé actor l o Ih\! char acter, !i uggesting thal thc aclor's boJ y Ii kc lhe playw righ t's wo rus is li ll k mo re tha n the medium with which lhe d rama is blJ ilt . ~ T hc gli mpses we ca h;h of lhe actor tend to come witho ut a conventio nal discu rsive auth o rizaLio ll, T hey often seem to be dislurbances of the delicate worlJ of the drama wilh little co herence 0 1' va lue o ftheir own. Actors a re revea led, ro r in sta nce. when !hey forgel their lines, but th is visibility is more embarrassing tba n revelalory . The stage dea rly displays mo re than cha raeters, but we need to defi ne a nu an alyze lhe ca tegories 01' thi s ontological superflui ty if \\le wa nt to sec it c1ea rl y an d understanJ its value. We do not pcrceive things si mply as thcy a re in themselves. As Bruce Wi lshire notes. " appearances a re mean ingful on ly because they are interpreted " (7), but interpretation does not occur in a vaeuum. Interpretation is enabled and shaped by the univenie of discou rse in which it is made. We perceive because we interpret, and we interprel wilh terms given to us by a particular discursive doma in. Thus, we percei ve things only as they are representable with in a particular structure 01' meaningful entities. To see something is to find some meaning in it, to note how it is situated within a particular universe of d isco urse. We do not really see Lh e character in a d rama in aJdition to the actor representing that character; rather, we see the actor as a character within drama' s universe o f Jiscourse. Ir aetors are more tha n just l he characte rs in a pl ay, as what other entities a re they meaningfuUy representable? In what other worlds 01' meaning (besides dramatic representation) does the body of the actor establish an existence? In look ing fo r the worlds in wh ich the actor establishes a corporeal exist ence we are looking for more than just worlds in which the actor has mea n ing. We are, rather, looking for worlJs in which he 01' she has a body. M ore thanjust an object or image, a boJy has interiori ty, extcriority, and autonomy. A body's interior hides its unseen , volitional mechanisms , the motivating forces that drive its observable behavior. A boJy's exterior presents its image to the world , but this im age is not selfcontained. lt is marked , at least in part, as consequent in appearance or aclivity upon the character or Jevelopments of the body's interiority. r inally , although bodies exist within particular eontext:; and communities, they also have a significant Jegree of autonomy. Thus, although the meaning o f a particula r boJy may Jepend 011 the gro up lo whieh it belongs 01' the en viron men l in which it is situated, its existence as a body depends on its separation from its group or enviro nment on some leve!. Essentially, the bond between a body's interiority and exteriori ty must be stronger than its bond to its environment or contexto The body's a utonomy from its context necd be only strong enough for the bond betwccn its il1side and outsidc to d ominate ils cxistem:c a nd lo r a bound ary t<, be di sc~rnihl c belween Lhe body ano its world. We could investig¡He lhe various forms of prcscm,;e asserleJ by lhe ¡¡c lor's nouy in any age anJ cu lture. bul th is invcstiga tion is pU ll ic lIl:t rly pcrt incllI in I "iX
l' 11 1
lhe lule lwenl il.:l h I.:cnluly ; 11 111l' lIlI e r l\ lI CCs of IIH.:alcl, J
Charactcr As a characler, the actor's boJy inhabits a world 01' signs. This boJy cxists insofar as it establishes a signi!lcance for itself within the semiotie sphere 01' theatrical mimesis. The gestures and expressions 01' the aelor that signify the lite anJ experience o f a lictional character within a fictional world flesh out this sel11iotic body. J ust as Iinguistic signifiers and signifieds are Iike two sides or lhe same pieee 01' paper, the signs that signify character and the character signified are part of the same boJy which breath es in the Iiterary space spread out on the stage during Jramatic mimesis. Some 01' the signs that constitute character describe the interior ofthis boJy, its thoughts, emotions, mem ories, and motiva tions. while others Jescribe its exterior, ils builJ , behavior, anJ position in various communities (01' family , acquaintanees, state, etc.). The character's body is unusual in that both its interi or and exterior are generally open to view. Even when the drama relies on markeJ contrasts between private feelings anJ public behavior, the playwright will use soliloquies, asides, and discoveries to make kn own the interior terrain of the characters. Harold Pinter is one of the few playwrights to co nsistentl y hiJe the interiori ty o f hi s characters. 5 The opacity of their minJs is striking beeause it is so LlI1USua!. Character is the body that Western auJiences are trained to look for first anJ gaze at most intently. Its reaJy display of both inside anJ outsiJc makes it a pleasing object of contemplation. This boJy can appear in paintings, novels , anJ film as readily as on the stage. Much recent performa nce art and d ance actually seeks to eradicate this body in favor of otber forms of corporea li ty, but a few innovators have found wa ys to give it a new anJ unusual emphasis. The most popular strategy is to strip away the mimetic space in which this boJy usuall y constitutes its life anJ allow itto stanJ directly on the stage before the auJienee. This strategy heigh tens the autonomy ol' the character's boJ y by removing it fro m its Jramatic world anu magnifies its stage presence by making its interi or and exterior cxpress important fe atures 01' its missing mimctic \vorlJ (' Frie Bogosiun isola tcs and magnifies character in a menagerie 01' odd anJ alll ll ~i l1g personas whom he im perso nates in a series o f monologues. 1 Spaldjn g ( h ay. in a mo rc cO nl.:cpl u¡i1ly s i rik ing. bul theal rica lly low- key way. has made a dla ";I~ I er nI' hi s \)WII P,'I hq l\;\ li I Y 111 a s\:r ics nI' wo rks tha t use a monol ogue I :'i l )
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alld a I1\:cdllle~ lo Ul:Iil'1 ihe hi!i hll: . ' 1"1111 JIU Itl lllI ~IS II ~C lI al '· rati ve anJ d irccl allJience a J dn::¡s lo ani male lIJen dldlJcl CI~ o ulsidl' tl1\;i dramatic habitats. Bogosian reinrórees the prcsc lH.:c \J I' his l'haraCI ~rs wil h III~ skills as a m imiGand clo wn, whercas Gray exploits lhe p rcsumetJ a uthc nlidly nf his personage to ad d weight to the character he delineates upon the sta!,!!.! . These methods of rein forcing the presence or expression of their charadent bodies also reveal the ontological co rn plexity of theater by bringing in other fo rms of corporeal presence.
Performer Bogosian's rni micry , for instance. is nOl so Tnuch a facet of the characten¡ he represents as part of his bodily presenee as perfomler. In perfomlÍng, lhe aclor displays an expressive body, a body in volved in a communicative act. ¡vity. JI', in conventional d rama, the cha racters and dramatic action are lhe message 01' the theatrical event, the actor's performing body is the mediulTl o this message. It is not a signifler initself bu t a body capable of or engaged in the creation of theatrical signiflers_ Bogosian -s mimicry is essentially él corpor eal e1asticity and expertise that sllstain the signs of the cha racters he create$_ The actor's body as performer has two distinct aspeets: (1) its authority anJ (2) its engagemenL lts authority springs from its skills at comrnanding atten tion and serving as a focus of theatrical expressivity as \Vell as from the licensc to be an object of attention that the cultural institution 01' theater accord s the performer. Its engagernent is constituted by its concen trated involvemen l in the activ ity of performance. Authority is. so to speak. the exteriority 01' the performing body and engagement its interiority. 9 The external allthority of the performing body appears most visible in street performances. Before the charaeters ami sitllations of a skit can be delill eated, the actors must establish their credentials as performers, as being~ capable orexhibiting skills worth contemplating. In conventional thea ter. t he building. the advertising ami promotion, and the ritual ofticket purchases aid in establishing the authority of the performers. but on the street the perform ing body itselfmust draw the audience out of its quotidian reality and into lhe world of theatrical performance where it is neither rude nor frivolo us rOr some people to make a spectacle 01' themselves while others watch. The internal engagement ofthe perforrning body is particlllarly noticea ble in gymnastic and trapeze acts where the mental and physical concentrali on of perform ance is not contaminaled or overwritten by the mental and physical activity of dramatic characters, but the strength and expertise of perform ative engagement is often of significant interest to theatergoers. Bert Stalcs has pointed out th al demanding roles such as Rich a rd 11 1are ortel1 used mo re for the d ispl ay of perfo nnativc sk ill s than ro r the dis play 01' char¡H.:ler (16 1 63). Richal'd 's charaGll.'T, unl ike Ha mlers. is relalivcly sirn pk. hlll Ih e lalc nls rcq uir ed LO carry il () n-~irC consiJcra blc. 1(,(1
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The actor's simultaneous constnrction of a representati Qnal and a perform ing bod y is contextualized \Vit1lin cultural history. This history gives its own kin d 01' significance to the actor's activity and is developed in turn by that activily. By contributing to. fol1owing, or developing the historical continuity and rnetamorphosis of aesthetic cOllventions within their cultural context, actors assert a third co rporeal presence as interpreters of the conventions in wh ich lhey acl In other words. besides representillg a characler and per rorrning a parto lbc acto r co nu ncnls upon a lld interprets the conventions and history \, 1' 11(llh rcprCsclll
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I'r0l11 ami p()~i lll) llI l1g il~d l' w ith ill lhe \.:1111 111 1:\ Iml· pill )· i ll ll~' lIlatillll 111' ar! , con::¡ Ülu tcs 1111': al.:lot's l:(lI11 IllCn lal ing bOlly. T hi s Imuy alt Iill'l :; thca lerc ril ics ami sl:holars beca use they also movc tlnd '! el with in thi.: spa¡;c nI' cultural discour::;e. Schol ars want to place an aclor within lhe history uf a pa rlicu lar role\ develo pment or th e development of a particular sly\c of acting. Súholal s are not content to sec the character or the perfofmer; they wan t to see lhe com mentary lIpon cha racter and performance that the actor makes. Nicole Will iamson 's Hamlet, for instance. is no t exceptio na l si m ply bec311 ::'c WilJia mson crea tes a vivid character and performs the part experlly, bu l beca use h.is lIa m let is d isti nct fro m O livier's, Gielglld 's, antl oth ers. lTe adus his own unique commen t to the ongoing discussi on of lhe possibil itie:, I,r this role. 12 The interior of the commentali ng body is 'filled with the kn owledge 0 1' various possible interpretations of particular roles, eSlablished and pos~ib": modes of acting, or di verse conceptio ns o f theater. The exterior is sh aped fro m the choices ma J e in manner and concept 01' mimesis and performance. The uniquen ess of the mode of expression adopted or the distinctiveness nI' the mimetic image produced give the commentati ng body its au to nomy within the world of the history and possibilities of theatrical expression. T he interior ol' the commentating bod y is significantly more priva te than lh\! interior 01' the performer because knowledge is more difficult to judge lha n expertise. When Robert Wilson produced D eaji17an G/ance (1970), the uni q ueness or the production was ob vio liS, but critics were not certain whe thc this un iq ueness sprang from a p ro found knowledge 01' theater or a profollnd ignoranee. As thi s example also makes clea r, one can never be entirel y sure whether the commentating body on stage belongs primarily to the actor or the d irector. W hat the corporeal status ofeomment and innovation migh t lose in being less obviously material than (the signs of) character or performer. it makes up for by establishing a more complex epistemic rclationsh ip belwcen the interior, exterior, and autonomy of its body. !\ny major performance by definition is done as a n interpreter and eOI11· ment ator more t han simply as a character or performer, although, ol' coursc. the power of o ne's representational or perform ative presence is often a key enabling factor in the constitution 01' on e's commentative presence. I-I oll y H ughes's performance 01' Wvr/d Wilh oul End is , 1 think., most powerflLl in its Co nstitution of her commentating body. 1\ Her representational and per formative ski lis, although adequate . are not ex traordinary , but th e complex iro njes, the real and feigned self-consciousness. the teasing aggressio n ami playflllness, and the sincerity and decepti o n with which she manipu lates the conventiolls of confessional monologue and performance art make her work marvel ous. W hat shc makcs most visible upon the stage and asks her ¡luu i e nce to fix their attenLion on is nOI lhe ch aracter she pl ays or lhe way sh\.: perfo rms the part, bUl the way s he plays wit h lhe cxpcdatilms and histc.1ry \)1 lhe a rtislic nlcd iu l11 she has ta kclI o n.
I Illghc:;'s :tltislil.' IIH:d llllll ~llIl hl hl' l ulblthl' subcalcgo ry Ur p¡;rs()null.:on kssi\lIl withill (h¡; hr()llí.lér val t.:gúry 0 1 mOllol o gue sll)ry-(elli ng and impeT ::;tlna(i t)O . wllidt is i(sdl' par( 01' (11(; bew ilderingly broad f1eld of perform alll.:e ar!. Il er :.(ylc is doscl y relaled to Spalding Gra y's and more di stantly to I': ric Bogos ian 's. UnJike these men, however, she is more areh ami pointed in her awarencss 01' the convcntions she is using antl her place in their J evelop ment. W here G ra y and Bogosian simply exploit the con ven li o ns they ha ve adopled, Hu ghes self.·consl.:iously highlights amI al ters these conventj ons. She cla ims (o be confessin g in timate secrets from her past and then suggests that everylhing she says is fictio n. She prodaims the goa l of her monologue is the promo tion 01' world-wide lesbianism but ends it with a description 01' heterosexual sex o Shc says she hates men bUl lhen no tes that hate is onl y the darker side of love. In contrast to G ray, who invites his aucliencc to encou n ter some aspect of bis personal cha racter, lJ ughes invi tes her audience (o encounter t he conventions 01' confessional monologue and to note how she is manipulating these conventions.
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Personage Aesthetic commenta ry is no t the only field of cultural discollrse extendin g beyond the theater that creates a pa rticular form ofpresence for actors 011 the stage. Actors also appear as personages. Personage is most visible in ce lcbr ities. O n Broad way, for instanee, the prospect of seeing a star's body d raws some peopJc to the theater more forcefull y than any other atlraetions. T hey wan( to see Y ule Urenner more than The King and 1, o r Ca rol C hanning more than Helio Dolly. The essence 01' a celebrity's visibility is not, howevcr, a physical body but an aura gcncratcd by the publie circul ation ofstories a bout the actor. As Michael Quinn has pointed out, when contemplating the celeb rity, "the audience's attitude shifts from an a wareness of the presence of tictional illllsion to the acccptance of an illusion , however false, of the celeh rity 's prescnce" (156). The audience projects upon th e fi gure they see on stage wh at t hey kn ow (01' think they know) about the life and career 01' the actor. Both Quin n and Car!son have noted the elaborate facets of eelebrity visibil ity. One mi gh t see in this body certain gestures repeated from role to role or the ghost of a particularl y famous and successful ea rlier part. 14 One mig.ht detect the efrects of age, discasc, or dissipation upon the actor's performance skills or note the differences be( ween the image of the actor projected on movie screens and the image he or shc crea tes on the stage. Onc might look ro r harmonious or jarring connections betwecn incidents in the star's life and (he incidents portrayed in the drama. Whi\c personage o; lalUs is most st riking for ce\cbrities, actors need not be stars In tlispl ay thcir pcrSOIlHgc stat us. Even amateurs a ppea ri ng in modest co rt1 lll11ni ly m SChllí,1 prodll\.·¡ ill lh wi ll Itave presences generaled by stories Pll lSid\! the il11 mc\J ial t: I..'tlrll\.''l.I ,,1' tl ll.: r lily. A l lh e ve ry lea st lheir fricnds and
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Ilis IWlI-l"a rll1lúI 1l1h)g.uc Ic:tl 111 l'., ,l lilli llllal spccch by Ihe righl-willg ideologuc R(IY {'ohn lo lhe "Sol:Íely rllf lite Preserva lion 01' lhe Fa m ily" (written by Gary Indian a) ami a vcrhatil1l recrealion 01' a secti on 01' Jack Smith 's desult ory. ad tih performance piecc "What's Underground aboul Marshmallows?,, ¡6 In portraying these two men on the stage, Vawter is not in terestcd so m uch in lhei r characters as in their perso oage a mI performing bodies, He portrays both men performing befo re audiences rather th an being th ernse\ ves. T he interest in Vawter's piece lies not in what the men ex press a boul their char acters but in the gap between the images 01' lhemselves that their perform ances crea te and wha t the audience knows of their biographies. No t\\'o men could create a starker contrast in either image or notoriety. Coh n is a lawyer with enormous polítical power and infl uence who cham pion s conservati ve ideology vociferously and has been a l the center of controversies such as the Rose nberg Treason T rial and Joseph McCarthy 's an li-communist witch hunts. Sm it h is an artist 01' enormous influence but Ii ule material success, associated'loosely for a while with Fl ux us, who created improvised , accident ridden , marathon-Ien gth performances so bizarrely unique that only a small coterie of fans apprecialed their wit and originality. W hile Cohn dedicated his life to being at the center 01' political power and wealt hy society, Smith dedicated his to being at the margins of an obscure subculture of experi mental New York artists. The traits the two men share are not overtly performed: both were homo sexual and died of A fDS. Although these faels are nol displayed on lhe stage, they haunt the portrayal 01' the characlers a nd link them to the performer who was also hom osexual and living with AIDS while performing the show. Thus , Vawter juxtaposes personage bodies with character, performing. and commentating bodies on a stage occupied only by himself. We see two strik ingly vivid characters portrayed in performance before their own invisibl e audiences. We see Vawter's own superlative performance ~ki lls as he builds up and disappears into two radically dilTerent charactcrs employing their own radically diffcrent performance styles. We sec Vawter crealing his o\\'n disti nct innovations in and comments upon lhe possibilities of monologue performance. We see Vawter's personage as a homosexual , a person with AIOS, a nd a performance artist concerned with the final stages of his career in reviews of the show, hi s introductory remarks, and the Jesions visible on his skin. The poignancy ofVawter's own personage reverberates in and is magni fied by lhe similar elements in the personages 01' the charactcrs he portrays. The piecc is not a bout AIOS or living with AIDS, but perhaps about living despi le A IOS . AII three men involved in this one-man pe rformance iso late lhe factor 01" AJOS in their personages, refusing to allow it to engull" lhcir dIaractcrs anJ perfo rma nce. Vawtcr is not trying to deny the reality of AIDS in his life, huI lO (l ITer a p c rl'(lI'1nIl IlCC in wh ich it is only allowed lo glimmer II pl.ln thc lhcalrical evcnl rrlllll (he pcrsonage hod ies of hirn self and the ch ara~tcrs he pllrtruv:.. \ hl. d i ~flll hill g sl re ngth 01' this glimmcr is used to I" ,
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Beyond personage we encounter in the actor a corporea l identity linked lo race, class, or gender and con structed within the soci o- historica l d i scour.~~ of culture. This body 's exte rior consists of physica l reatures dee med s.ign ilk ant by custom and prcjudice. These features might indude skin color. sex , posture, accent, dialect, gait, or hand gestures - \\lhatcver featu res hist ory and contemporary configurations of society exploit for placing the persol1 in qucstion within a particular group. The interio r of tllis body is an ama lg~1 1I1 of ideological stereotypes and group narratives that establish the historit.:al and social identity of the group, definÍllg w hat va lues, talents and behav ior il has Jemonstrated and is capa ble of or expeded to perpetua te. The socio historical body bclongs to a group tha t has a particular history of oppression or privilege. Although separatc from personage and often at odds with it, thu socio-historical boJy is similar in that it is constructed from narrativcs th a need not be true as long as they are compelling. 17 The significan ce of the socio-historical body in thcatrical performance I.:U n, und er ideal conditions, be minimal. In a sma ll school ar comm unity prodllc tio n where parts are assigned solely on the basis of tal en l or availabili ly unl l the audicncc has no strong investment in particu la r graup identities, Lhe :-.kiJl color, accent. or gender of the actor may be unimportant. In m o st p ro les sional productions, however, even when progresúve, intercultural values a n' espoused. cross-gender or race-bl ind ca sti ng plays in some wa y upo n 111\: significance of socio-hi slorical boJ ies.l ~ In the hi story o f lhea ter the socío-hi storical bod y has orten pla yeJ W ! ~ prominen t roles. In the ease of bla ek-facc min st re lsy a nJ Ihe ~ lage Irisllln;1I1 Ihe $ocio-histori.:a l hoJy rc placcs <.:Ila metcr, ¡¡ lid thcsc Ih\.:al ric;¡1 rcprCSC I1 LI líons a re inst ru mental in J dining Ihe S"uill-hisll1ril'a l hu
ca reer in cmly n in(;lct:nl ll-¡;(.'nl lllY h lr(l/1C , uscd his socio-historical iden ti /lcati on as a Blac k m an lo l! l1 hancc bOlh Lhe characters he played (Othello , ror examplc) an d his personage status. Il is characters, performing bod y, and personage, in tU I11 . helped elevate t be status of the soci o-historical group to which he ack nowledgcd m embcrship.20 As these opposing cases show, the socio-histo rit:al body can elevate o r demean the group in question . depenJing on lhe values and behavior attributed to it. In t he long history of the socio-historical body on stage, the recent works of R obbie M cCauley and A nna Deveare Smith still stand out because of the originality with which they fo reg round this body.l n Sal/y's Rape (1989) , IMcCauley confronts socio-historieal bodies with personage bocHes in pre senting to the audience the story ofher g reat-great-grand mothe r's rape by he r owner in the ante-bellum So uth . As she circles around this story with the help of a white actress (Jeannie 1-1 utchins) , the iss ues of racial , gender, and personal identity are spun together and pulled apart. In the m ost striking sequence in the piece, McCauley stands naked on an audion block wh ile I I utchins encourages the auoience to bid for her ("She can 't step do wn ano put her cJothes on until you ' ve played your part. W e need yo ur coo peratio n,"). She insists shortly aftcr that shc wanted to 00 this and was in control. By daring to embrace one of the most disturbing images associated with the socio historical body of the African-A merican woman , McCauley seeks to gain control over it. It becomes a way for her to commune with her great-great grandmother, wh o must have stood in a similar situation at som e time, and to diminish the p ower of this general izing image by occupying it wilh her particularity. Wllen Hutchins steps onto the auction block , she is too uneasy to re move her dress. Being a stranger to the story , she cannot combat the socio-historical image in the way McCauley can . McCauley takcs possession of the im age amI undercuts the generalizing force of the socio-historical body by infusing it with the uniqueness of her personage. 21 In Fires in {he Mirror (1992) , Ann a Deveare Smith takes an opposite tack (rom McCauley in the use o f socio-historical bodies. Rather than highlight her ()wn socio-historical ide ntity, she disappears into the socio-historical identity of other characters. The process of this disappearance is complicated beca use she begins by representing the individual characters of people she has interviewed. Her impersonations are so absorbing anO precise that lhey re semble spirit possession more than conventional thespian mimesis 22 I ronically, while she portrays character booies with a greater vividness th a n Bogosian , socio-historical bodies often becomc the most visible corporealities on the stage not beca use she is portraying lhem but beca use the characters she portrays are themselves obsesseJ o r haunted by these bodies. In moving th ro ugh a Jarge array of characters, she displa y:; Ule diversity with whi ch individuals a p proa<.:h a nd take "1" Ihe hllrJen of gro up idenl ily. Wh at she shows the a udi¡;n<.:c in her imnérlinnal iol1s is hn t h [he power 01' socio-historical group iJcntilics ;lllll lhci .. illl ilil..·¡lI lilV .,
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The appla use Va wter rcccivcú lor his pcrfo rnwnl!C wa s ccrtainly in part jilr h is trcmcndous m imetic anú perro rmati ve ski lls as wcll a s ro r his incisive COI11 mentary on lhe possibi li ties of thc lrying to highlight the p erson age bodies of hi m self and I he two c ha racters 11\: p o rtrayed wh ile holding the sentimental appea l 01' these bodies in check wiLh the abso rbing r igors of pcrfo rm ance. it is understanda ble , in th is ease, rhal the poigna ncy of personage ultimalely p ro ved mOre powerful tha n lhe COIl cerns of the rheatrical work.
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1¡'lcsb In addi tio n lO lhesc bouies ~onstitutl:d within a mi scrving as fod rol' activitks and dis~oun;e, actors on stage mip:h t abo dis pl ay t hcir bod ies ofHesh. Flesh, however, is no t so easily scen. Clothes are only one of its coverings, Evcn a naked body on stage is usually hidden behi nu m imetic or performative display. Onc does not see lhe flesh before o nc so much as the flesh ofth e character w ho has disrobed (as in, say, Curse oI/he S tarving Clas/ 4 ) or flcsh as an instrumc nt 01' performance involved in the execution of partiüular tasks (as in da nce.. stage combat, o r physically strenuous aeting styles). Erotic and pomog ra phic performances genl:rally have IiUle lo d o wi th flesh . T hey fixa te instcad upon the discursive gestures 01' power and desire. Sueh performances 00 not really invite us to look at flesh but at signs of submission , in vitation , or enticement. The exterior of the fleshy body is simply sk in and hair. The interior is muscle , fat, blood , and warmth ·- the physieal insides that we sense as separa te from the mind and sensation, the heated mass permeated by other forms being but separate from them . The ski n glows with the warmth 01' the flesby interior and separates this body 's physicality from the rest 01' the physical world. Th e fleshy body is the aspect 01' animate lite free from volition. O ne can see it when contemplation reaches an absolute zero where the eye gazes without a purposc beyond the simple joy of seeing, and the object displ ayed has no purpose or plan beyond being seen. The ending 01' Arnie Zanc's and Bill T. Jones 's Uncle Tom ',\ Cahin/ Thc Promised Land (1990) offers one o f thosc rare mome nts when the performers glow with a purcly fleshy existence. The forty-plus dancers on stage, having removed all their clothes in the course of the last act, stop dancing to bathe in the music and the glance of the audience. Tho variety 0 1' ages and body types displayed and their simple unassuming manner of standing before the a ud i cnce allo w thc individuality of their fleshy presenee to radiate its own gl ow . At this moment all the other bodies ofthe actor recede, permitting the fles h to dominate the stage with its warmth and solidity. To get to this point. the dancers have worked through a strenuous a nu elaborate display of other acting bodies. They have been characters rr0111 Harriet Beecher Stowe 's n ovel. They have stripped away character repres entation to display their terpsichorean prowess, and then shifted the sla gc from a neutral performance space to the field of history and ethics whe re every move becomes emblematic of the struggle for equal rights and personal integrity . The ambitious conceptual qualities ofthe piece and lhe inn ova livc choreography cause the commentati ng bodies 01' the perfonners to slli nc forth brightly. An interlude in which J o nes interviews a rcligi o us leatkr 011 the nature of sin a nd sa lva tio n amI the pro per attillld c 10 w
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ScnsatioD The most secretive orthe actor's bodies and , yet , arguably, the most ontologic ally primary (ir \Ve can ran k levcls of existence) is the body of private sensa tion that constitutes itsclffor each of usjust below the skin. As Elaine Scart-y has pointed out, our scnsations are among the most certain things we can know and the things about which others might be most in doubt (4). The interior 01' this body is the nervous system ano the sensations of pai n , pleas ure, numbness, and sensitivity that it brin gs to the mind. Like the body of flesh , this interiority is separate from the mind but more intimately attached to it than the Ilesh . Sensation can overwhelm thoughl. but it a1ways seems in some sense foreign to it. The exterior of the body 01' sensation is composed 01' signals 01' cxcite1llent 01' distress that surgc through the skin: wounos, secrc tiOIlS, flushed ski.n. tumescence, and muscle spasm~. The vi si ble surfacc 01' sensation indica tes t he body 's in te rnal aetivity, bul thesc indications arc dim in comparison to the fi n:!; t'rO Ill wh ich they spring. Sensatio n is predomin an tly a n invi sihle h od y. h i d d ~l l by Iksh hut capable ot'assertinga n in tcriority o f o vcrw hd1ll ing PllW(·I. l'hc Imuy 01' sé l1sa tiplI . i1 w :ly· p. ll lt¡; lp.II ¡;,... in pcr lünnH ncc in '\llIm: W;¡y, bul il is I Ll r cl y 1)\'1:111." 0 11 .I 1..,plol '" w~ 11/ 1, '\1 1I1;( l'vd al Ih.. lI.!rl~~l: llt;¡t i o l1 0 1' 1/ ,11
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he \.:~·,Ii tin n i 1111: n:lu l lOn~h i r b1!1wCC11 l it is l l!r /C~CI I I:¡11\1 1I ,llId I ca liy cx i ~ l ill ~~ ~e ll~j l illn s . 1\ lar g.c " all 01' lhcu ler 's aa l't und a ppe" I inV q/vcl; a ltering tite na tll ra l li nl. Ix:lwl!cn a p pt!ura nccs Hnd sensa lions. Ev~n if wc reeslab li s h l hi ~ nalurll l lin k , Ihcatcr g ives prefercn c;e to th e visible appeara ncc 01' sc nsati nl\ ra lhe r Ihan tlw invisible reality, I lüw l:U ll Ihe thea ter e ve r disp la y the predom m antly invisible body 01' s\! nsat inn? T he mosl sophistieated wo rk J esigncd to bring this b ody on to I k stage is being carricd () ut by o rdeal arti sts . Fakir M lIsafa r is notab/ y cxcesS ivl' in h is dev o tion lO Ihe body 01' sensation in his performanecs. In s ha m a n istil' ril e~ he hangs ('rom hooks through h is pectoral mllse1es or d a nces und er lhe weight 01' a ka vand i that pierces hls ski n w ith hllndreds of sm all spea rs, Fak ir's rituals are barcly theater si nee, ifhe allows for an audience. it is th c r~ only to cnhanec his spir ilual experiencc while undergoing l he o rdeal. 110 olTe rs no thi ng to th~ a lldie nce, bu! ra lher, absorbs their atte ntion . Thc body 01' his se nsations rem a ins entirely his own, and even the spectade he m ..lkcs 01' himself is more a part 01' his o wn experience than the experiencc 01' the onlookers. 2ó R on A t hey's o rdeaJ rituals are dose r to rhe spírit of theater. He often¡ h is alldience a spectacle a nd o verlays the suffe ring o fhis body (and the bodies 01' other performers) w ith other corporeal images. The first tablea u 01' Four .\'('('1/(>.1' in (/ Harsh L(jiJ (1 994), for instanee, features anude woma n (slagc namc "Pigpen") with an elabo ra te b1eeding heart tattooed on her chest, 0 11\': arm stretched ove r he r head by a chain attached to the eeiling, lea niog on a Cl'lIt .:h, amI piereed thro ugh the cheek, shoulder, arms, side, baek, a m l legs witheight-ineh medical needJes deeorated with feathers to create a SI. Sebas tian image. As she qllivers, sighs, and sweats, Athey, dressed in a ma tnm ly white evening go w n , describes his yOllth in the evangcIieaI ehureh and a t ri p to see a remale stigmatie who disappointingly fai1cd to bleed. The impli ca tio DS orthe speeeh are that (1) the evangelieal church is full ofcharlatans, bu t (2) ib interest in ecstatie p hysieal sensations and tranee-like states is val id am.I ()lJl1lpelling, and (3) the ri l1lal s of sa do-masoehists can delive r the ecstasy thal ('hristian ity o nJy points ti m idly toward . He then anoin ts volunteers fro m the au J ience with the sweat o hhe profane SI. Sebastian beside him, [em oye::; hcr a rrows, and earries he r reverentially off stage, Although the suffering is ultimately only in the possession 01' the partici p ants , its presence gives the entire thea trieal event a distinctive ch a rge. Th~ spectaele has a weight ami eoneentration Llllusual for theater. Its attachme nl to the slIlTering 01' the performers preven ts it from being casually COnSUI1H': u as an in ~ol1seq ue ntial im age b y the a udience, An a tm osphere 01' concern a nd Icvcn.:nu: is built up he lween pc r ro rl1lers an d s pec la Lors bee~l u se t he re is so 11l kll'lI lh ,,1 dt~I.!S nolll1cct Ihe eye in Lhe evento :;0 l11u¡;h I)¡al rC llla in::; lud e in Ihe bll\.ly ti \(.: r Crlúmlcr pcrrOflllcr:- stand hclWCI.:11 IWO w
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* * * I hope my analysis o f the aetor's seven form s 01' eo rporeal presence has made clear both the du bious nai veté of any general , absol ute n oti on of pre sence amI the ontologieal inadeq uaey 01' dismissing the eoneept of presence altogether. T he essence or theatrieality is intimately entwined in a ssertions 01' bodily presence on stage, b ut to un derstand what it m ean s for an ac tor to be on the stage we need to understand tbe variety o l' di scursi ve real m s in whieh this being can be asserted and the ways in w hich these presences vic with one another in the t heatrieal spaee, S ueh an understanding can illumin ate bolh the genera l coneept of t heatrieali ty and the m an )' distinct ways modern performance art is exploring the ontological permutations ol' eorpo real display,
Notes This ontological paradox was (lrst noted in W estern theories of drama by D idero!. For a short discussiol1 of h is argument sec C arlson, Theories 161 , 2 This ontological formu la Li on, which lays grcater stress on thc intcn tional dup lici ty oftheatrical display, is stressed by Arden 11 - 12. 3 My argument accepts as a presuppositioTl D errida's critique of thc distinction bet wee n prcsel1ce and representation (Gral1l /1/a/%gy 18- 93, Wri/ing 169-95, 232 50). W hen I speak ofpresence J am not spea k in g ofan absolute, unassailable real ity but of a significa n t form of existcncc. Presen ce is always already representational within a particular universe of discourse, but the interesting and complicated qucstions, it seems to me, involve the vario'us ways in which presence is signific ant ly a.sserted in various domains of meani ng. 4 Aristotle also begins the Eumpean tradition of considering the actor as one of lhe 1c
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Arden , .tUllir. "jI) I'resl'IIl I/Jt' I'n'll'II.I"<,. L(JlldulI: by rc Methuen . 1977. Aristotle . l'ol'li('.I". I rans. Ste ph\:n Ha ll iwcll. Cambrid ge. MA : Harvard UP. 1995. Bogosian , Erie. Poullding N ails il1lt) Ihe Floor Ii'ilh my Forehead. Ncw York: Thcatre COllllllullications Group,1994. Bogosian, Frie. Sexo f)rllgs. !lml Rock & Ro/l, New York: Harper Perennial, 1992. Brecht, Bertoll. Bree/u 011 Bree/iI. ·fr1lns. John Willett. New York: Hill and Wallg, 1964. Bryant- llertaiL Sarah. " Woman and the City: T he Serniotics of Embodimenl. " 1'healre Researc{¡ [nl em(¡lio!1a/19 (1994): 99- 110. Carlson, Ma rvin. "T he Haunted Stage: Reeyeling Reecption in Theatre. " Thealre Survey 33 no. 1 (1994): 3- 18. Carlson , Ma rvin. " Invisible Presences: Performance IntertextuaJity." Thealre Research [nlernol;ona/19 (1994): 111 - 17. Carl~oll , Marvin. Theories o/Ihe Thealre. Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1984, Deboo , A na. 'The NOII-Traditional Casting Project Continues into the '90s." The Dm/lla Rel'iell' 34 no. 4 (1990): 188- 9 l . Derrida, Jacques. OfGral11l11l/lology . Trans. Ga yatri Chakravorty Spivak. Baltimo re: Johns Hopkins U P, 1976. Derrida, Jacques. Writil¡g ({nd Dilferel1ce. Trans. Alan Bass. Chicago: U of C hieago p, 1978. Diderot, Denis. P(//'{/doxe sur le comédien. Paris: Gallimard, 1994. Falloll, Fnllltz. Black Skin While Masks. Tr. New York: Theatre Communicat,ions Group, 1992. Gr
n'
I'n
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1111 1\1 lis l'l l) ll't 11 111.01.1 11, II rll l/ l Nn\ 'IirJ,. (iruvt! WC It!L' Il II'ld 111 111 , 1'lII ll'l 111111)11 1. «III1(,I.'fl' 11'",.1, .\ : (h".. Ncw Y' lIk: l; I PV I' 1' 1'''. ", I'J/(" 1'lII ll'l . II Ultlld . (11,' I/'I/ /II'I '/ I/llillg Ncw York: lirnvc PtI'S~. I(¡!JI,. l 'II II ~·r. 110110111. /l(ol/lIf,,;,/ ("llIgl/tlg(·. Nl'W York: G n,J vc Prl'ss. Il)H8. ()Ui llll , MidlBc! 1.. "(\: khril y ami Ihl' SCl11iotics 01' Ading." NI'\\' Theafri' Quurr crly (,
( 1'NO): 1~ Id. S ~ :lI'I y, Llainc. 'lile UOdl' il/ [>0;11. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1985.
31
THE BO D Y AS THE OBJECT OF
MODERN PE RF O R MANCE
~lJ hcdHlCI', Rich;lrJ . "A llna De
U(' vic\l' 'l7 no . 4 (1 C)l)3): Ú :~ - 64. S¡;lll1ll ¡ . Rogl:r " No n-TracJili onal Casting lJpdate: Multicultural Casting." Tlie Drama Re l""II' .Vi 110 . 2 (1991) : 7- 13. Shepun.l . Sam . .5'('\'('1/ Play.\'. London: Fabcr and rabel, 1981 . .... llIith . Allna Dea vc re. "A nna Deavclc Smith: The Word Beco mcs You ." l nterviewcr ('arol Martin. T/I(' f)roma Rl! l'iell' 37 no. 4 (1993): 45 - 62. SlIIi th . A nna Deavere. Fi/'e.l' in fhe lv[i/,/,or: CroWI1 fle ighl.l', BrooklYI1 amI Othe/' /den ti 1;.'.1'. Ncw York.: Anchor Books. 1993. Sta los, I3c rt O. Creal Reckonil1gs in Ullle Room.\'. Berkeley: U of California P, 1987. Va wk r, ROIl. "Roll Vawtcr: For Ihe Record." Interviewer Ril'hard Schechner. The /)/,{1/I1t/ !?eviclI·.17 no. 3 (1993): 17 .. 30. Willllolh . Charles M. '''fhe Archacology of Muff Diving: An Tnterview with Holly 11 \lghcs." '/'l/(' Drama Revie\l; 35 no.:) (1991): 216- 20. Wilshirc , Brucc. Role Play ing (lml Idelllily: The Limils of' Thealre (/.\' Aferap/¡o/'. Bloominglon: Indiana UP, 1982. Zc.:: lll1i , MOlokiyo. (JI/lhe (Ir! of'111e No Drama: Tire Majo/' Treal;ses of'Zeami. T nms . .1 . 1I1l11llaS Rimer and Yanazaki Masakasu . Princeton: Pri ncet on UP, 1984.
I 'lel
i on E ricksol1 Sourcc: J Ol/l'llal
(JI f)ramal;c 1'ileol')' a/ld Cril;c;.\/n 5( 1) (1990): nI
245.
Max Weber had describcd the progress ofwhat hc called "rationalization" in the modern world. It cal1s rol' the " disenchantment of the world," with the replacemcnt of magical thinking by reftectivc reason. CoIlective myth which for so long had acted as the unifying eJement in culture is displaced by a reason which compartmentalizes reality through its " will to k nowledge" (Foucault). This compartmentalization rcsults in what Weber designates as autonomous "cultural sphcres of value ," namely three: science-technology, art-literature, and law-morality. Thc separation ofthe artistic sphere from its relation to the cultural1y unifying agencies of religion and centralized polít ical power has resulted, through thc ongoing process ofrationalization , in the search for the "csscnce" 01' art. Jürgcn Habermas has noted that art bccomcs rationalizcd when, first, it bccomcs autonomous, second , it divests and puri fies itself 01' " thcorctical and moral admixtures, " and third, in reftecting upon its own formal processes, makes those processes transparent (178). Each particular form of art within modernism has engaged in this proccss - -literature, painting, sculpture. music, dance, theatre--and in each , thc relcntless pursuit for undcrstanding the essence 01' its formal properties has resulted i.n one 01' another kind of minimalism. Each has reduced itself to its most basic fotm of objecthood-- sound, color, plastic form, ctc. , but also draw ing attention to what gives it shape- silencc, emptiness, stil1ncss. This move ment has cvcn rcsultcd in certain reversals that end up encroaching on the tcrritory of other arts 01' disciplines: conceptual art 's reliance on language, min imal art bel:Om ing hody art, then performam:c arL which slides into the lhcorclical p urv icw 01' Ihcalcr. In rca di on lo a sm.: icly in whiLh. as Marx put il by invoking Shakespea re. " a 1l 111;11 i" s\llid m.: lls illlll ;Iir ," l1I¡lll Y arl s inlht!ir miniOl ali ó ng sdf-renection ha Vl.' \.:sLl II,.'wud whal h h llll1:¡U Ih lou '·plIl!lIlcra l. i ll Ilrdl'r In crl'al.: works 1rl.r,
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Ilhju¡;t hCI.'OIIlCS i.I Icfllgi! 1\\1 I h~ !\cll' a OIa lcrialilcJ Pllliect ion 01' " inBcr" :1\ :il IIVC \.:o lls¡;i~\Llsncss . 'n l\! d ~ il'c lo r the obicclilicat illll nI' selr Iha l 11111; rl'Occh e merges fr~)m Ihe cxislcnlia l dre<1J of a loss 01' sc ll~ inspircd by Ihl.' vc rl igin o lls po sitioning a l' Ihe h um an bcing a l l he ed ge oC Ihe abyss 0 1' hislory ill1d mass so~i el y. Si n\.'1! lhe theatre ullimately depends upo n wh a l is human , this non h uman ubjectirying poses something of a p roblem for it. T he fam ous turn-o C-cen t ury a<.:l n:s:- Elcano ra D usc wa<; qu oled by Gordo n C raig as saying t ha t in orde r to savc Ihe lhealre, all t he aetors wou ld ha ve to d ie o fthe plague so lha l it cou ld slarl o ver Wilh a dea n slate (K irby 33). T his secmed to have been a ccol11 plis hctl in at least two instances of emply stage performanecs . Oll e was an Italian Futurist perfor m an\.'e whose "performer" was a bullel shot from a gun o H':itage . The olher was Samuel Bccke tt 's " Breat h ," a lh ir ty-second perfoml an\.'e consisting of the sound 01' an inhalalio n and él n ex lla lation . But in both \.' can neve r be loca leo, anu Ihl:rcfo re néve r objecl ified. As J u\.'ques Lacan p u l il . '" am not whe revl!r I am Ih!: p lu ything ll r m y l hough l; I lhin k 01' what 1 am wherc J do n ol lhink lo l!li nk" (1 6(,). BUI whcn (j mlmvs ki p uls so much cmph asis, in his early wo rk, in IIII{)// /.\'(' as a lIni fy i ll~1 ron;c . h!: is no l rcally lalk ing lIbOll 1 1I:l1cclio n b ul
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llc lill lJ , .al lhourh 111\; ¡'qlla ll \- \'llIp hn :,l/cd iJ ea l (~ r Ihe ador's sclf-reveJ lItion already hcl ics Ihis . )'.vell III~ lI:d lll'l i' lIl DI' lhea lre lo ils es:;en tial relationship 01' iI \.'I,)r lu spcd alo r dcn Hm sl ra t\:!s in thal vcry rclationship a matcri alization nr the struclure 01' I,)l)ns\.'iou:;nes::; Iha t must b e split. Irwc are lo draw awa y from G rolo wski' s as\.'eti\.' endave rha t post ulates an essential humanity inlo the much larger realm of social a nd historieal forces, Ihe uni fied self becomes e ven m ore un reasible, as Berlolt Breeht a rg ues wh en he says, "The wn ti n uity of the ego is a m y th. A man is an a tom tJla l perpetu ally brea ks up and form s anew. We have to show things as they are" (Brec ht 15). For Brechl it is n o t th e responsibili ty of the acto r to objecti fy what is human as se/fat a IJ . W ha t is o bjecti fi ed are lhe rel a tions helween human beings, made manifest in the gest us, O ne should nol even coneeive o f the gCStllS a s a unified or pure act, however. in that Bre\.'ht desi rcs as well th a t every ael contain the cond itions of possi bility for alternative ac tion . Wh a t 1 am p rimaril y interested in examining is a particular fo rm of object ification that takes pla\.'e in modern e xpe rimental theatre whose focu s is on the hocly .1 One ca n view the distinction betwee n, to bon 'ow te rms from R . D. Laing, the " di sembodied self" a nd the "embodied self. " Although the wntinuity of the ego may be a m yth , and consciousness rnay be split and its source unloca la b le , the body appears to be substantial. irreducible and sol id, so that the focus of any theat rieal search for its essentia l object locates itself there, Before J begin , I wo uld like to make some brief eommcnts on a ly pe o f theat re that sets itself in opposition to the phen omenological reduc tio n of (I\.'tor a s the central featu re oC lheat re, either as sign 01' boJy. " Total theat re" resists the ongoing rationaliza tio n oC theatre, that is, its inexorably reductive process ofself-reflection, in that it tries to mobil ize other forees outside ofits minimal generic boundaries: dance, music, visible spectadc, advanced tech nology. Y el what is still posited is a basi s in an essential and unquestio ned theatricality. Total theatre tries to cJaim hegemo ny over lhe other arts in that it puts to thcatrical use elements from the other arts. trying to draw oul the IhCQtrica / aspects of dance, music, vi sual art, et\.'. T h is is reflected in Nietzschc's deman d , a fter his break with Wagner. that "the theatre shaIJ not lord it over lhe other arts" (636) . Total theatre would maintain that the only synthesis can be a theatri\.'al ooe . Yet what it is resistin g is its own cssentializing red u\.' tion by expanding its horizons in a desire for a larger cultural unity, a unity lhat defies the compartmentalization of modern life . Brecht re\.'ogni zed in this proeess a reallack of seJf-reflection . the positing 01' a cul t ural unity that is the promotion of a bourgeois my th. His own work is ti meet ing place 01' d iverse a rts , yct it is not a synthesis. As he puts it: "So let liS in vile ,,11 lhe sislcr a rb or lhe drama, not in arder to create an ' illtegrated wo rk o f art' in w bi d1 IIH':y a 11 l) fler lhcl11selves up an d are lost , but so that logclhcr w ith Ih!: dr¡t ll lil Iht.:y II Ii1y 1'11 flIler the com m o lllask in differen t ways; a m i Ihl!ir rcla LÍ ll lIs wil lt IlIW .11111111\.' 1' c~Hls ist in this: lhat lhey Iead lO mulual
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,111\': 11 :111111 1 ¡'0 .1) !11":l ll l' \ ,11111 ill tlt il. is to nlalll l.I II I :1 11 11 l· Id kc liOIl \,1' lile dividl'd ,'lid ,lhclI;lh:d 11.. 1111 e 0 1 social .. tal cull ll Lrll>phc l c<, IIIS\llilf as Il rechl's I"ca lre was \'pcra l ing crit icall y al iI timc with in cap ila lisl sllcicl y. !lis cri lici:-,m 0 1' towl theatrc seemed j uSlifil!d . Bu t ir we 111 m lo R ussial1 ('o nstru\.:tivist lhea ln.:. a lso operating a long lhe lines oflotallhca ln.'. we sce Ihat ib. p rimary fu nctioll in a ncwly rcvol ut iona.ry society was a unily ing. propagand istic one. where c ritical self- reftection would ha ve seemcu out 01' ptal:c and co un lcr- revol utionary. 1I is im portanl to nole thal lotal theatre, for its synthesis to be complcll:. de pc nds IIpon a cert ai n dehum a niza tion ofthe aclor, fo r tbe hum an presencio: is too sl ro ng to allow everything lo be viewed Wilh eq ual attentio n. Rccog l1it ion and identi fi ca tion w ith the human a lwa ys dra ws us awa y fro m OIhcr scn sory e1ements a nd relega tes them to mere backdrop . T hus we see lhl' incredibly sty1izcd acting in bol h con st ructivist and Ba uhaus thea tre a nd evcn tnday in lhe perfo rmance thealre 01' Ro bert W ilson and Richard Foremun (d espitc the ruthlcss "ontol ogica l" self-reftection of the latter.) llrccht's rorm of schizoid acting, designed to separate in performance Ihl' acto r from the role. is mean l lo d raw attention to the role , its soci all y con st ruclcd Ila luxe, and ll o t so much lO {he actor himsclf. ' n that the disembod.icd slyle 01' tbe role is to be maintained tb ro ughout, the actor must ma inta in H critica l attitude toward his role, even acknowledging dislike for the ch a raclt:r he p lays. In effect, Brecht accepts the actor's att it ude lO the role and wanls lo IIse that to reveal the possibility of o ther social constructions tb rough lhe indepcndent decision-making ability and will of the spectator as " actor" in Ical life. Grotowski takes that back fu rther in getting the aclor to questi on his own real socially-constrllcted layers or personality in order to strip (hose awa y as \Vell . W hal are \Ve finally left with in the end? Thc body 01' the actor. Although it ca n he noted , as Brecht did , that the idea 01' the universality of human na tu n: IS u oourgcois illusion , when it is actually a social and historical construction. 1I can be argued that what human beings all have in common are bodies: lhis SCCIllS incontrovertible and irreducible. J\nd our bodies feel pleasllre and leel ra in. O ur common humanity as bodies o pera te as the fiflsllevel of sym pathy: "I r you priá us do we not bleed? If you tick le US , do we not la ugh? If yO ll poison US , do we not die?" What strikes us as so shocking about cerlai n typcs ofhlldy art, sllch as that ofChris Burden . who has himselfshot in the sholl ldcr, llI" crucified to a Volkswagen. or Ste\arc, who suspcnds himscl f by hoo ks pi~:rcing his nesh. is this seemingly inhuman or sllperhuman disrega rd ror Ihal which \Ve hold most primaJ1y in common. Th e identifkation with these acls strikcs too c10se lo home and m ust be denied . But the denial of the tlesh docs not nc\.:cssa ril y have lo be so d rastic, as a good po rtion o f lhe mythos 01 hut h Fa -;l a nd Wcst afli rll1s a selfsc pHrale from lhe hody. Bul ca n Ih e :;elf we " know ·' lea ll y he a sd f sepa ralc rrOln the bod y'! Bred ll\ den ia l t he " 'lll1l il1 l1ily lIf 1111.' C~~\I " Jislcl'alJ :-¡ Ihe sccm ing \':\)fl lill llily (\l lhl.' hody , Freu d
cOllllcc l:; hod y ¡¡ li d \'~'.\) I h i ~ W,I" , l'llre C)!I) is firsl a nd fllrcmlll;t a bud il)' C!!O, " anu in a t"uolnoll! rCllI;11b. J.c. the ego is IIltimatdy derivcd from bodily scnsalinns. chidl y th ose sp ringillg rrom th e surface 01' the body" (16). We con st ruct Otlr sense 01' the co ntin uity 01' self o n the a ppa renl eontinuily of thc bouy . It is, as M ichel F ou\.:ault wri tes, " t be loclls of a diss(lCiated self (adopting the illusion of a substantiaJ unity) " (148) . It is on this "j lJusion of a subslantial unity" th a t the st ability 01" the personality rests . We can.not ohserlle it in the process 01' changing o r being acted upon subtly by socia l ro rces, walching it eontinuously be " the inscribed s urfaee o f even ts." We are alwa ys surprised that we are p hysically not what we om:e were . In the long run Brecht's vicw is vindicaled by F ouea ult. An actor ta king on a role must observe the comportment of a particula r body acted upon by the dynam ics of a social role- lhe hunched should ers of th e sch olar or accouot ant, the ramrod spin of a military man , etc. But what is the bodily comport ment of the actor who is trained to take on these roles? O ne must take into account not only the body as the site of social inseription, but as the materi alization ofthe ind ivid ua l will that resists these t'orces. A training ofthe body to deal with a va riety ol' situations is a st rong tradition in the theatre . The developmen t of ft exi bili ty ca n be observcd from M cyerhold's biomechallics and aerobatic training to the work of Grotowski . T o aller the body's \.:0111 portment is to alter one 's relation to oneself. This was a factor in Meyerhold 's reversal of Stanislavsky's wo rking from the inside out to workiog from the outside il1 . As he put it, "AII psychological sta tes are de termined by speci fic physiological processes" (199). Gordon Craig's extreme view of absolute physical control caused hi111 to reject the abi1ity of human actors in this rega rd in favor of the completely uneontrollable Ubermarionette. In this Craig never theoretica1\y dissolved the split between the acto r a nd the role inasmuch as he knew that every pllppet needs a puppeteer, even if the wires that ran from the poet's soul were "not material. " Still, the puppeteer remains invisible to the audience. 1n order for the actor to be an artist, " his body would h.n c to be the slave ofhis mind , which healthy bodies refuse to do. Therefore the body ofman ... is hy ¡¡atufe utterly useless as a material for art" (37). In other words, the body always at some level thinks for itsclL disrupting the absolllte physical and formal control 01' the m ind. Despite this , Craig eventually abandoned the idea of rcplacing the human actor by the Ubermarionctte, but instead held up the latter as an ideal ro r lhe former. The marionctte as body, the bod y as exteriorized, discipllned ego. I lcinr ich von Kleist. a hundred years earlier, had expressed nearly the same criticism as Craig , in his essay " O n Ihe Puppet Theatre." He had observed Iha! the real adv
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pll p pl' l ~e r . , lit: Ii IIlbs dl!sni bl.! Ihe lOl!v ilable lines 01' i1l1.! 11 i:11 liln;i!. 11' Ihe aclOI C'i tlig's aOVil:l;, Iw would II1lc rna li.~c lhc pu ppelee r, (i n¡J hls t:Clllcr 111' gra vi ly, a no rn ove wilh lhe whole móvement of the ernotion . O ne rn ll~ l fi llll the bouy's ccnler in order to discovcr ils li mits. raig lmceo the ma ri onetle back to its reJigious o rigins as stat ue in Ihe Tcmple. Ca n men crea tc their gods, evc ll una voidahly in their own imagc" T he very impulse to escape the booy orives men to crea te it evcr ancw. T hl.! rain ofliving as a body conscious ofitselfdrives men to create bo die~ witlwlI l co n::;ciou ~ ll ess . Lack o f self-consci o usness in the hieratic, noble, godlike and cruel ideal. 10 avoid sympathy, amI pity that stinks of mortality, As KJeisl p UL il, grace can only rcappear in the t heatrc in " bodily form that has either no COnSl:iOllSness at all 01' an infinite one. wh ich is to say, either in the puppet or a god " (216). Ifwe are to examine the role ofthe body in the theatre, we sh o uld pay close attcntio n lo its most a nimate featllre: the face. The face draws our attenl ions. says Sartre, because of its essentiaJ jÚlurity: "[W]e discover among objeds ccrtain things we cal1 faces . They have not, however, the same kind of existenc;c as llbjects. Objects have no fllture, whi le the future surrounds faces like a Illulr" (Natanson 162). This fllturity of the face, inasmuch as it defies reduc tion lo static objecthood, also reflects the movements ofthe mind's ability lo lranscend situations: "1 f we cal1 transcendence that a bi lity of the min d to pass hCyllnd itselfand al1 other lhin gs as wel1, to escape fro m ilselfth at it may lose ilscl f dsewhere , anywhere; then to be a visible transcendence is the meaning ¡Ifa lace" (Nalanson 163). 11' we were to look at Cra ig's idea that desiring the human face, "the realest 1'1 hings, " to take us beyono reality is "too much lo ask" (Craig 21), it is clca r Iha 1 he denies the visible transcendence that Sartre grants the human f
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IllLl S¡'" (o r Ihe l1l aru) !1l't! C} 1', ItllIl',I'" C ¡¡\\IC, which rcq ui rcs ¡j k'vel 01' cstrangc ment. T ita! csIl'allgl!ll\cll t d L:p~' ll ds Upllll Llre srcd alor 's reaction to the amhi gunu'l st•• lc 01' tire ma sk as hU l1lan in a ppea ra ncc yct also as an objecl that is nol ali \(}· -gi ving il lhe quality 01' something 01' someo ne beyond Jife and dcalh , the embooiment ofa principie 01' perpetual attitllde. Stil1 . ifth is a mbi guous state is not maintained hy supplemen tary actions, gestures, actions or words, the estrangement ceases and the ma sk is simply redllced to the state 01' an ohjecL wi thout effect a r affect. It shou ld be noted in tbis regard that G rotowski 's desiTc to reveal the essentially human in the actor depends upon tb e slripping away of masks. 1n this sense Ihe mask can be seen as a form of repression. a bJ ocka g:e that must be removed before transcendence can be achieved. W hat is remark abJe. however, is that the actor is also called upon to molo his own face a$ él mask. It is a commonplace Ihat masks actuall y all ow more to be l'eveaJcd, in that they proteet the identity of thc actor while he engages freeJy in act ivi ty he might normally not ir his person was iden tified with that activity. 1n this sense, the mask opera tes as a form 01' denegation , which lIraws attention lo a certain reality whiJe denying it at the same time. 01' course, if Grotowski' aim is Lo demonslrate the possibi1ity of transcendence through the stripping away of masks, through confessional enactment, it is necessa ry to bcgin with the mask as a concentratiou. a gestus, if yo u will , 01' that eJement of person ality to bc stripped away. Once the mask has heen removed , we then see the actor in his vulnerable state, Yet this vulnera biJ.ity may be yet another mask. what MeycrhoJd called lhe "inner mask ," problematizing the endpoint 01' Grotowsk i's project, inasmllch as the soul of the actor has as many masks as Peer Gynt's onion has layers. Brecht attcmpted to defeat spectator idcntification with both the corporea.l and represcntational being 01' the actor. " Spectator ano actor ought not to approach one another but to move a part. Each ought to move away from himself. Otherwisc the eJcment ol' terror necessary to recognition is lacking" (26). AJthough Brecht is c1ear1y using, in words like "terror" alld " recogni tion ," Aristoteli a n languagc. the ioentification of spectator with actor purely on the Jevc1 of characteriza tion is dcnied . So the terms are used in a very diffcrent sensc. Identifkation with the critical method of the actor is implied, howcvcr. in the hope that ir the actor can demonstrate his own objective attitude lO his theatricaJ role, the spectator can correspondingly split offfrom himsell' his own social identity in the terror of recognition that this role is /lol his identity, but a socially imposed sense 01' se1f. The actor objectifies the role in a critical oistance from himself, in the hopes that lhe spectator sholl1d rollo\V suit. ro whal extenl ca n sell'-Qhjccl illcation in the conseiousness of performer 01' spe..:talor acl llully la kc place? S'lI' tre apparen lly denies ul is processes: "One ca nnlll juJ g.e ollese lr, , , ' I M Y n:11I.-cl io n] i.. somethin g I ca n't 1ay hold of; it is 11111 :111 o bjccl. but .111 ¡l1I al',I' 111 ulll\.: r words the reflecti on passes into the
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"r , l h i e~1 Whl'l l 1I 1... IIC , I I l'~'''¡!IIi/Cd .1111.1 01 Il1ldpl' wlllrr rl rs" ( ~u r Ire Xl) . I len: \\1\: 1I1l1s1 disl i llplli~ h lite poss iblc di Ilc rcnccs b c!WL'L'1I Sa n ro: alld Brcd rl S mil.' orIbe wurd · ' reco~ nJl i(J n. " In úle lirst pl ace Sartre 1:-: LuJl... ing a boul recogni Ii' ln o f llnc s OW Il ph ys ica l appeara.lll.:e, which e;Ulnol be eSlra nged o r objccl i lied. So whal he mca lls hy "rccogniLc" is acknowledgcmcnLand accept a!ll:e nI" a certain sta Le 0 1" "lhings aií thcy are ." Whal Brechl means by it is the abil it lO rcc~lgn¡ /c thal things a re not as thcy sh o uld be, tha! one is objectifying. a IKl rl 01" o nc's selr Iha!. upon reflcetion, becomes strange and in contradictioll lu lhc lrue needs of one's sclf. But lhb al ienation of object from self-acccpt illg irn \t level 01' rational self-reAection . To go in tbe opposi te direction, I h\' lension bet ween the hoc!y-as-o/)jecl and the hody-as-sign gives birth lO an awan:ncss of presence as the tension between the basie corporeal being anu II lc hecoming of signification . " "n;sence" in the theatre is a physicality in the present lhal at lhe samc li m\! is grounded in a ro rm 01' "a bsence." [t is something that has unfo lded. alld is rcad against what has been seen. and presenlly observed in expeclal ioll as lo what will be secn. It means that the performer is presenting himself or hcn:ell" lo the audienee, b UI al the same time holding something back, creal illg cxpcclalion . T he most frightening people are those of whom it is ~aid "they are not all there." Wh at lhis means is that you don 't know whallhey ;l rc go ing lo do next: you are p ut on edge expeeting the unexpeetable, al evc ry poi nl J...nowi ng lbat wo rd s may l urn into physical aetions, whelher embar ras~ ill g or violent. [n 01hcr words. not only d oes lhe notio n o f prese nec 111 pc rJ'llrllJ;lnCI! im ply an ah::cn<.'C, bul tha! absence ilself' is the possibi li ly 01 1"111111\: IIl tlVC lI1c n l, '>0 paradox icu ll y. prcscnee is bascd n o! o nly in lhe pn:scn l. hUI in ,)111 c~pcdalillll !ll lhe future . IfOcrlrlldeStei ll l"ould IIl'llIally adllcV!.' 1t~ 1 i,kal \lrth¡; ''I;,llllillll ' 'II i'i jlll"l'n l " 111 lite lhea !..:r. in ",llId r Iltl \:\pcctali ll ll
exil>(ed, the •. prcse llec" 01" lit e pCI1111 11ICI \VU llld be los!. I':wn il" lhe spectator is ram iliar will! a play allU kll()wS whal will comc Ilcxl, the " h()w" ofwhat will come lIext is slill missing in lhe presellt perceplioll and the actor with pres enec will know ho w lo keep Ihal "how" indeterminate. This is nOl all. Prescnce has a n inverse relationship to language. Presence seems lo be mosl obvious in silence, since it resists the disembodying pro c1ivilies 01' diseourse . O ne is holdiJlg back the articulale meaning lhat the audience is expecting. Prescnce ofthe body is stronger when Iinguistic des ublim ation is absenl; more preeisely, not absent , but not yet ma nifested.. Presencc becomes mosl acute at the moment of its possibility of dispersion inlo languagc, lhe moment o f working into speech, at lhe ed ge of articulation. D emonstra tions of uneerta inty, sluttering, Arta utl 's eries that lapse baek into si1encc, draw Úle audience into the space ofthe performer's lack ofarticulation . Cries and stuttering draw attenti on not so much, or not only, lO what is lo be arti culated, but to the physieal origins of speevh in the body of t he performer. 2 This al1 might seem to place lhe idea 01' presence at only an extreme level of cmbod im ent, as con trari1y one can reea ll people wbo are primarily effective speakers fu1\y engaged in d iscourse as having presence as well. But even here, \Ve aeknowledge their presence only when we cease to simply acknowledge the meaning or their words, al' at least become aware oftheir body's relation ship to their \\Iords. We acknowledge the physical property of the voiee, we acknowledge lhe timing of their words - whieh draws attention to the phys ieal aetioll 01' the vo ice, and again the relation of expectation to silence. So in fact the words almost beeome sup plements lo the meaning d is played by Ihe body's physical attitude. At times, presence is made even more acute when the body displays an attitude eontradictory to the words, and at that point \Ve always bclieve the truth of the body over the truth 01' the words- which is articulated in psyehoanalysis as the " aeting out" of a repressed subtext. Brecht's distrust of presenee is refleeted in th e depenuence al' his work on diseourse. for pure presence a1\ows for no dialectical unuerstanding. lt erases the discursive self-consciousness 01' the spectator. Even Brechfs use of the physicaJ gcsture is desi gned as a supplement to diseourse- ilS value as sign is more important lhan its physicality. In this sense, physieal presence has no Illcaning in itsclf exeept that 01' apure investment of one human being's intcrest (the spectalor) in the performer as a human being, a1though within lhe theatre's lyrannical framework ofrepresentation, this requires a physical comportmcnl that is "larger than lile." The use of voiee as uttercr of a text is litera1\y a " becoming-disembodied ." Árlaud's ay has a signature. It is identified with a particular body, while at lhe same time resisting inevitable sym bolic differenee.!fo!n the body. Spoken words bclllng to cveryone. O ne can repeat what someone said. b ut lry to n:pcal hi s cry . nlC Ji sl rusl ( )I (Cx ! in L:ertain post-Á rtaud ian theatrieal experi ITIcnl S was a J istr ll'lL !lf ils ptl\V~' r Id t1im ini sh lhe prescnce of lhe aClor in his ~'lI l h\l~l i l'd o.; la lc , 101111'11."' \' 111. 11 i.; IIIJ¡-I C\'\ hclo ngs lo all , il dissi[la lCS in lhe
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millll , il draws lhc mi nd lIW,ly I"mm th.: prcsclll ItI rl l"'!'iihjl,l'l'~ , plOh"hili tics, dissimulat io ns, mcmuri cs, pro m ises, Cle., ami it cC"SCS lo hd o ng soldy lo lhe acl, the event, the bcing bcfore yO ll. T his "gi venness" 0 1" language (conSlantl y giving itselr IIp) in other contexts o bvia tes lhe noti on 01' " a n ap propria tion o r discourse." for "discourse" in its very meaning con tradicts the idea 01' it as él possessio n. As Wittgenstein said . there is no priva te langllage. Artaud "s rea r of someone stealing hi s words is fou n ded on his mis ta ke n belier in a unified coru;ci o us ness, not aceepting the faet that langllage is social, and hence based in the Olhcr. But the body has abo bccn seen in lhe past as a unified " bod y o f kn ow Icdge." Th is is exem plified in the ca rlicst fo rms of drama. Anagl/oresi.l' as the déno uemenl or turnin g point 01' the play. is the point of recognilion (Oed pus recognizes his crime, Aga ve reeogn ize she's kilJed her son Pentheus). T hi ngs. facts , histories are drawn together again. T he hero's body is rent so that the body of the state can be made whole. There is another G reek \Vord th a l. although not identical in meaning to anagnoresis, bears in its use a simjJar dynamic. Anamnesis is (be Platonic basis for the revelation of knowledge, that is, alJ knowledge is known prior to bodily existence, and anamnesis is the process of recoUection of th al ideal knowledge. Socrates used the maieu tic method to faei lita te a nam nesis. The maieutic method is metaph orica lly related to midwifery, birthin g. Yet perhaps it is not so metaphorical after all , ir alJ our knowledge is forgotten (rcpressed) when we are first embodied anu entcr lhis \Vorld. This embodiment, therefore. is also a repression of kn ow led ge. Am nesia is firs t and foremost a ph ysicalIy produced state, in thi s case produced by the tnlU ma of birth. Thlls is anam nesia a rebirthing process, a di.l'l:l11hodiment of knowledge through language. BITChl, a dialeetician like Socrates, \Vas engaged in a pa rticul a r type o lIlaieutic method. Catharsis comes after the moment ofrecognition. Timothy Wilcs has shown that the term " l:atharsis" has varying interpretations arter bcillg lranslated from the G reek. The work of Else, Golden , amI Hardison rl:ads il as "c1arifleation of incident" ralher than " purgation 01' emoli on." c1arilication preceding purgation (Wiles 126- 127). Wiles has abo pointed o ut Ihat in convcnlional Aristotclian dram a turgy "actor a nd audience achicve \.\llh a rsis at lhe same lime during the apprehension of the play: Breeht is rl.!a lly ' non-Aristotelian' in that, aceordi ng to his scheme, hi s actor would ha\'(; lO ha ve achieved catharsis before the play or the performance began. whilc his uudience ca nnot experiencc jt until aftcr the play has ended " (82) . In asl11 ueh as recognition for the actor is prior lo the play and main taincd througJwU l, knowledge is never em bodied in the Platonic amnesiac sensl.!. It h, d iselll hod ied lhrou ghou l, re maining separate from the actor who "uclivcrs " il a~ he clln seio usly "e nacts" hi s pa r!. Fi lla lly \Vc haw lO ask ourscl vcs the body "ibe/f": ;,\' Ihe rc slIc h a tll ing'. 1'111.' Illi llg (hu i CXpl.,TiCJll·I'S lihid ilM I pulsa tiom;. joyoangí:r, I, al c, III SI , ra in inltslIlllI.: h liS il is Illt 'I\'I''/ ill :1 \.·l'l l.. ill way. ca ll it he l'lIIlS ll!l'rl'd Ihc hody
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propcr? L;vCII idl'l1 (ilical lO lI wllh ~III IlCO II C disc·s paill in volves an imuge: that is in tcrprclCU (grimilCC:', Ica rs . cries, ele.). This entails the philosophical " problem 01' olher minds. " O ne " k nows" lhat ofle has a mind , feels pain. etc., but holV does one kn ow lhis is (rue ror olhers'? One an swer is thal we assume the mind and feelings of others by usin g ou rsel ves as models which we tl1en p rojeet on others as i{they had minds and fe lt p a in. Both (he physical sensations tha t the body experiences a nd its inco rrigible visibility have led certain performance a nd bod y arlists lO preserve lhe fragi le status of the subject that ha s been under attack by deconstructi l1g philo sophies, as well as soci al lorces, by rendering it visible as bod ily o bject. T his is roughly analogolls to Samuel .lohnson 's materi a l act of kicking lhe stone to rerute Bishop Berkeley's dematerializing ideali smo The avoid ance by these artists of theatrical spaees can be seen as a wa y of defying the distancin g and disembodying propensi ties of the relentless signify ing struet ure of the stage, which as we have seen, threatens tbe llnified notion or the self. or course most of these artists emerged from the art world , and so display themselves in galleries and museums. Arl gaJ leries , inasmuch ,'LS they are ostensibly places where objects, not social selves, are on display , provide an appropriale structllre ro r viewi ng lhe body as object. Other social spaces--esped ally if the artist is invo lved in so me experienlialIy-based interventionary practice position the embodied subject in its natural habitat. Sueh is Vito Aeconci 's '·Following Piece," where he chose random pedestrians to follo w lhrough lhe streels of New York. Or the yem'-long perfonnances of Teching Hsieh--one spent living oUluoo rs in N ew York, oue spent silently in a prison eell buill in his loft--o perate on a conceptual level , where the " problem of other mind s" tr uly poses itself, sÍJlce the performance is not based so mueh on the external action 01' the performer's body as it is on the performer's internal expcrience of the action, or /"/o/"/-(/CLÍOIl . A perfeet example 01' this " non-action " is the work of the performance couple Mari na Abramovié and Ulay. T h e work " Nigh tsea C rossing" consists of them sitting across a long table from each other fo r seven hours a day a nd at each loca ti on doing this for a week. Over the co urse of years they d id this un li l lhey rcached the total time of ni nety days. They simply Sat and sta red into eaeh othcr's eycs ror lhe duration of the work. Not averse to hav ing themsel ves pcrceived as symbols, they eould be seen as the exempliflcation of duality, as ma te and female pri ncipies. Bu t while one eould perhaps grasp this significati on quite easily, what is m ore enigl11atie is their own internal experi enéc as it is "displayed" to uso In this opacity we fi nd that despile all our theories lhe body still rctains an air 01' mystery. So in lhe end the pro hlem 01' the body in performance is a two-fold one: whcn lhe inlcn lion is 10 prcscnt lhe body itselr as fl esh, as corporeali ty. as living Mgan ihll1 il sell" frce ~) I siglls, il rCl11ains él sign nonethcless- at the very I ca ~ t lhe sign 01' " tll l' hody " " lI1llrta lil y." "sensua li ty, " H is not enough 01' a p ll n: r rJ'/III.1" WhC lIl lIl'lllll'lll lI III i', In r ll~SC ll l lhc rc rron ncr's ood y as plimarily I X"
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blllh as in slrulnenljór the sign and somelhing inexplicably O t her.
Notes Wh;11 \ViII be quickly recogni zed in lhe reading of this essay is thal m y .:oncentralion on Ihe body as " objccl," an exami nation 01' ils phenomeno logical redu cliolJ. dncs llol la kc inlo account the question 01' gender, The o rni ssio n 0 1' th is question is no l bC':
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Yor k: Ilill :lnd W;¡n f.. 1%'/ N¡¡lall~'HI. IYLlllric.c. ,!(L Ii,H{/Y.I· il/ pf¡¡'I/IIII/CI/()fogr. The I-Iag ue: Martinus NijholT, I l)(¡(,.
Ni é!.zs.:h.:, Fricdri.:h. Bus;e IVr;I;l1g.l oI Nietzsche. T rans. and ed. Walter Kaufmann. NllW Y\.Hk: Modcrn Library. 1968. Surtrc, Jcan·PauL Sarlre 011 Theatre. Tra ns. Fra n k kllin ek. New York: Pant hen , 1976. States. Be rt O. Greal R eckonings ils Lillfe Room.>. 0/1 Ihe l'e/!omel1o fogy ol' T healre. .Berkele y: U nI' C aliforn ia P, 1985. Wil e:;. T imothy. The Thealre Evenl: Modo'/! Theor;e.l' oI Per{o/"l1U/l1ce. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1980.
IIrcc hl, Bertolt. Bree/u 011 Th eu lre. Trans. and ed, John Wil1clt. New York : ll i.¡¡ and Wa ng, 1964. ( 'raig, Gordon. Croig o/! Theolre. Ed, J. M ichael Wallon . London: Met huen , 19~3. I'nu':;lult, Michel. Lal'lg uage, Counler-Memory, Pru('lice, T ran s. D onald F. l3ollchard. Ilhaca , NY : Comell ur, 1977. I;fe lld, Sigmund. l11(' L:r;o {l/uflhe Id. T rans, loan Rivicre. New Y ork: W , W . No rton. I C)(¡O. ~ roto wsk i.
.ICr7.y. TOl!'ord.\' o POOl' Th('alr('. New York: Clarion, 1968. '1'.. eJ . TiJlaf1heo lre. New York: D utton, 1969. Kh.:i ~ l . Ildn rich von. ,,11/ Ahv.l'.I' /)('('fI E¡ /O//gh. Trans. and ed. Ph ilip B. Miller. Nc w YOI'k: Dull qn, 1982. I :IC,ln JilCqlll'S. En;I ,I'.' ;/ .~'( ' f('('lúl/I. Tm ns. Alan Shcri ÚlI n. Ncw York : W, W . N\lrt\~n . 1'177. I~.
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M~Vl" IIUld , VSCVOllld. M" I'I'f /¡JI/d .'11 I /' ,·, {II,·. Trans . ;llld l~d . blw:lrd Braun. Nc w
References
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32
ST RAT EGIC ABIL ITIES
N egotiating the disabled body in dance
Ann Cooper A lhl'ight Sourcc: ,'.Jir·/¡igal1 Qua/'rerly R el'ie ,r ~7( 2 ) ( 199X): 475 501.
throllgh Iny had.. , Sl lIlIl I l.1 1I k l'1 111l" a IH.J k'llce bcgillni ng lo Iwticc the s ITI a ll InnliOlls ~) f Ih ~ consl,lIlI C\ p:lI ISIIlII amI cllll lraction 01' m y b realhing. Th is mo men l is illtcrn lplcd by él n:wrdcu voice which Iclls the l11ythic story of anotha wo man ma ny ccn turics ago, whose p a rents ca rvcd the names of their cncmics onto her back . The lirst image j'ades into blackncss as my voice contjnuc~ :
Two ycars ago , whe n I was severely, albeit lemporarily, d isabled , th is secne from Ma xine Hong K in gston 's The Wnm an Warriot" kept reappearing in my Oreams. 1 see n oW that d isabili ty is like those kni ves that cut and marked her skin. Sometim es it lea ves p hysica l scars, bu t mostly it ma rks one 's psyche, preying upon one' s sense o f well-being with a deep recognition 01' l he frail ty o f life.
Th e dance's opcning image haunted me lo ng before 1 ever choreograp hctl t he piccc. Indeed, it was lhe power of th is image- its visual a nd physical d'l'cct on me- - that gave me the co ura ge b o th to crea te a performa nce aboul Ihe undoing 01' my life as r knew it and to stage it in the middle of a da nce concert. Through this proccss of perfonning the un perfol'm able, o f te\1 ing the lIlltold story, of staging the an tithesis of m y iden tity as a d ance professiona l, I bcgan to redai m Lhe expressive power of my body. What do yOll see? A back? A backless \ovheelchair'! A woma n? A nude" Do you see pain or pleasure? Are you in pain or pleasure? How do you see me'. M osl likely you don't see a dancer, rol' the cornbined discourses o f ideal i/,eu I'ernininity and aesthetic virtuosity which serve to regulate theatrical da nc IIII! throughout rnuch of the W estern world refuse the very possibility of thi s npc lling moment. As a dancer, 1 a m a body on display. As a body on dis play, I (1 m cxpected to resid e within a certain continuum oftitness and bodil y con trol. not to mentio n sex uality amI beauty. But as a woman in a whcclcha ir. I aJlI neith er expectcd to be a dancer nor to posi tion m yself in front of a n a uJ iencc's gaze. In d o ing this performance, r con fronted a wholc hust 01' cnn trad ictions bolh wi thin myself and wi th in lhe audience . T he work was a cOllscious attempt lO both deconstruct the representationa l codes 01' dan l.:C prmJuction a nd com l1111nicate an "other" b odil y real ity. It was also onc o rthe hardest picccs J've ever performed. I tak e m y pla ce in total d arkness, carefull y situating myself in the hackle:;s whcdchair set center stage. Gradua lly a squarc trame o f li g ht comes up a rollnd me lo rl'vea l the glint 01' melal and the sonnes~ uf Ill y na keu fl esh. I lllll su /l for <1 long ti me . a llowing Ihe a udience ti me to Hbsorh this ¡magc, a nd glvlng mysd l'ti mc lo cxpcriel1l.:c the physicu l anu CITll1tional VUlfl lTll h íli ty tlJ al is cl!n tra l tp tllis pc rl'llll llam:c. Il ue ll s lm m y hrcut hi nr.. 1111 . )\\'11 11' " In cxpand
What followed when Lhe Iights came up again was a perfo rma nce abo ut disa bility- both the cultural constructions of disability and the lextures of my own experie nces with disability. The spoken tcxt was structured arou nd stories, stories about my son's frantic first days oflife in intensive can~, about my grandfather's !ife wit h multiple sc\erosis and the recent diagnosis o f MS in one of my students, as well as the story of my own spinal degeneration and episodcs ofpartial paralysis. T hese bodily histories interlaced with my dancing to providc a genealogy of gestures, emotional s tates, and physical expcrienccs surrounding many of otlr personal and social reac tions to disability. Because my perfo nna nce was staged on a hod y a l once marked by the physical and psychic scars of disability and yet unma rked by any specifically visible physica l limitation, 1 was consciously challenging the usual represen tational codes oftheatrical dance. Indeed, 1 wanted the audience to be put off balance, not knowing whethcr this was an enactment 01' disability o r the real thing. W as this artistic expression or autobiographical confessi on? Oid 1 choose not to do more tcchnical dancing (artistic intcrpretation), 01' was thi s all that J could accomplish (aesthetic limitation)? And why would 1, a dance professor, wan l to expose myself (inc\uding my ample buttocks and disfigured spine) Like that an yway? Given that Western theatrical danee has tradition ally been structured by an exc\usionary mindset lhat projects a very narrow vision 01' a dam;er as white, female, thin , long-Iimbed , flexible, heterosexual, and ablc- bodied, my dcsire to stage the cultural antithesis of the fit, healthy body dis rupted the conventional voyeuristic pleasures inherent in watching most dancers. Traditionally, when dancers take their place in f'ront ofthe spot light, they a re displayed in ways that accentuate the double role of technical prowess and sexua l desi rability (the latter bein g implicit in the ve ry fact of a bod y'!'l visual avai la bil ity). In contrast, the djsablcd body is supposed to be COVCl'ctl IIr ór hi d J cn fnm1 view, tI> be compcnsated for 01' o vercome (either li lcra ll y or I11clu p horiGlll y ) il l ; 11 1 altcmpl ((ll ive a s "no rm a\" a life as possible. W IIl~1J él d isabkd da nc\.'1 I.I"I.~'; li le 'i 1~I j,,\c . he 01' she s takcs d ai m to a radical
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S p: II:~'. :1 11 11l1,u ly l\ll.Ilh lll \\ IIl'!\." dísparu ll.: a SS lllllp l ln ll S "hll lll l (! p reSC II~l lillll , slIh jCc.:l ivll y, :t rld \ iS lI ill plcUSlI li: c:o lliue with Oll e allu tllcl. "!'his is a ll essa y a boul Juncc a nd disabitity . tt is a n cssay whieh , on lhe orll': 11<1 110, wi ll t1d ail how American c ul tu re conslr ucts these rea lml-o ol" cxperien\!c opposili o ll Hlly in tcrm~ of either lit or frail, bcautiful or ugly, and, on lhe otller hunJ. wilt discuss Lhe growing dcsire al11 0 ng va rio us da nce ooOUllunities amI professiollnt compa nies to ch allenge t1lÍs binary paradif,'1TI by reenvisioni ng j usi wlla t k ind of movements can constitute a d ance a nd, by cxlen sion , wha t kinu 01' hody ca n constitute a dancer. It is an essay abo ut a cultu ra l movCl11cnt (in both the political and physical sen ses of the word) that radicall y revises Lhe ae:; thet ic SI ructures 01' dance perf0n11anCeS a nd j ust as radlca ll y extcnds thc lheoretical space of disabil ity studies in to the realm ofl ive performi ng bod ies. T his intersection 01' dance and disability is a n extraord in arity rlch si te al wh ich to ex plore the overla pping constructions ofthe bod y':; physícal abi líl y, slIojeclivity, and cultural visibility that are implicaled withi n many af aur dominant cultural paradigl11s of health and self-determina tion . Excava trng Ihe social meanings 01' these constructions is likc an archaeological d ig into lhe decr psychic fears that disability creates within the field of professiona l dance. In order to examine ablist prcconcepti o ns in the d ance world , one IllUS! confront both the ideological and symboJic meanings that the d isabled hndy holds in our culture, as well as lhe practical conditions of disabíli ty. Watching disabled bodies dancing forces uS to see with a double vision , and hclps us to recognize that while a dance performance is grounded in rhe physical capacities of a da ncer, it is not limi ted by them. Ove r Ihe last seven years, 1 have followed the evo lution of various dance )'.lOllpS which are working to integrate visibly disabled and visibly nondisabled la ncers . (1 use the term "visibly" to shift the cUITency 01' lil e term disa bility 11\)111 an either/or paradigm to a continuum which might include not on ly lhe nl ()st easily idcntifiablc disabilities, such as sorne mobility impairments, but ;rlS() Icss visible disabilities, including ones such as cating d isorders and his lories 01' severe abuse . It seems to me that all of these disabilities profoun d ly ;Llkl.:l o ne's physical position in the world , although they certainly don ' t all alleel Ihe accessibility of the world in the same way.) Eac.:h yea r, thelist grows kUlge r as groups such as Mobility junction (N YC), Dancea bility (Eugene), \)iwrse Da nce (Vachon lsland), Cleveland Ballet Dancing Wheels (C le ve land), Light Motion (Seattle). and Candoco (England) inspire other d ance t:omm unities to engage with this work. [n addition, there are several dance com pa nics such as Liz Lerman 's Dan cers ofthe Third Age, wh ich wo rk with Illdc r perlormers. as well as various contemporary choregraphers who con sistentl y WQrk Witl1 nOll lraLlitio nal performers from di ver:;e buckgrolll1ds a nd cXpe riI.:IH':CS. Thc:)t: im:ludc dance artis ts slJch asJoha n ml Boye\:). An n Carlso n, David Dorft nan. and Jcnni lá Monson, lo me ntio n only;r Icw. 11111"01'1 un~ltcly. lile radica l wllr " Ihc:,c groups is llfh:n lokeni/.t'd I1I 11 11' d anl'C prcss in krnls 111' "src\"ial " IUlIllall intc res l prol itcs m lh,', rl':l n dlllll'l'I'raphic rigor
O l" cn lll SC thi~ c ritic¡rl ll ltlq '"hII I/U IIIl/l illlplicit ly suggcsls lh a t Ih is II CW work. whi lc importa nl, wO!l '1 rca ll y dlsl"u pl the cxisl ing aesthe tic st ructUJes o f cul t ural imaitut io ns. 1;01' insta ll CC, whe n D ancing Wheds , a gr'O up uedicated to prüll1()t illg "the d iversity 01' dance and the abitit ies o f artists with physica t challenges," joined up with the eleveland Ballet in 1990 (to become Cleve land Ballet Dancing W heels), it was as an euucational and o utreach extensi o n of the mainstream al1s organizatioll. The Da ncing Wheels uancers rarely perform in the cOl11pany's regula r repertoirc, a nd certain [y never in cJ assicaJ works such as Balanehine's Serenade. Even in the less ma instream examptes 01' integrated d ancing. the financi al reality of grassroo ts a n s organ iza tions orlen means that n ondisa bled dancers receive much more to uring ane! teach ing work than even the most highly reno wned disabled da ncers. It is still prohibitivel y expensive lo travel as a disabled person , especial1 y if one needs to brillg an aide along. Even though many of w; are familiar with the work of disabled wri te rs, artists. and m usicians, physically disabled dancers are stiH seen as a con tradic tion in lcrms. This is becausc dance, un ljke other fo rms ofcultural production such as books or painting, makes tbe body visible within the rcpresentatilln itsclf. Thus when we look at dance with disabled d ancers, we are looking at both the choreography ami the disability. Cracking the porcelain image 01' the dancer as graceful sylph, disabled dancers force the viewer to conrront the cultural opposi te of the c1assical oody- the grotesque body. I am using the term "grolesque " a~ Bakhtin invokes it in his analysis ofrepresentation within Rabelais. rn her discussion 01" carn ival, spectacle, and Bakhtinian theory, Mary R usso iden tifies tbese two bodily tro pes in the foHowing manner:
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The grotesq ue body is the open, protruding, extended, secreting body, the body 01' becoming. process, and change. The grotesque body is opposed to the classical body, which is monumental, static, closed and slcek. corresponding to the aspirations 01' bourgeois indi ~ vidualism ; the grotcsque body is connected to the rest ofthe \Vorld.' tt is not my intentioll to invoke old steTeotypes of disabled bodies as gro tesque bodies. I cmploy these term s not to describe specific bodies, but rather to ca ll upon cultural constructs that deeply inftuence our attitudes toward bodi es, particularly dancing bodies. Over the past few years, I have felt this oppositioll ofc1assical and grotesquc bodies profoundly as I have fought my way back to the stage. Look again at the opening image 01' my performance and then at an)' other image 01' a dancer in Dancemagazine, 01' another pop ular dancejournal. TIle diffcrence is strikin g, and [bet ieve that it has I11l1ch to do with Ihe cllltural sl!paral ion bctween these bodies 2 In the res t (Ir Ihi s cssay. I wo uld li ke lo ex plore l he lra nsgressive nature 01' lhe "grOlcsq ue" body ill nnl~r II1QCC ir a nd how the disa bled body could tlcl'p ns lrr u:1 ¡lIId rad ll,:all v II.'IWII I Ihe n:p rcscnlali Qn<11 ~ trll ctu res 01' dance
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;\1 Ihe start 01' "Ciypsy," tall amI e1egant T odd Good ma n en ters pull ing the ends 01' a long scarf wrapped around the shoulders 01' his partncr, Mary Verdi-Fletcher, gliding behind him. To the Gypsy ~ ings. he winds her in and out with the scarf. Her bare shoulders tingle with the ecstasy 01' performing. She flings back her head with Irusting abandon as he dips her deeply backward . H o lding the fabric shc glides like a skater, alternately releasing and regaining control. A t lhe climax he swoops her up in her chair and whirls her arouno. Did I mention that Verdi-Fletcher dances in her wheekhair'?'
c,u::; Solomons' account of a romantic duet describes one 01' the first ch m'cographic ventures 01' Cleveland Ballet Dancing Wheels, a professionaJ d anc,:c company compriseo 01' dancers on legs and dancers in wheekhairs. Esscntiallya pas de deux for legs and wheels, "Gypsy" extends the aesthetk J.crilagc 01' nineteenth century Rom a ntie ballet into several intriguing new dil cclions. Like a traditional balletic duet. "Gypsy" is built on an illusion 01' 1: I:lCC provided by the fluid movements and physics of partnering. The use of Ihe 1';·lhric in eonjunetion with the whee1s gives the movement a continuoLls qll :ility Ihat is dif11\.:1IIt to achieve on legs. When Solomons describes Verdi l,'h.: lcl1er's dancing as "gliding," he is describing more than a metaphor; rather, he is transcribing the ph ysica l reality 01' her movement. Whether they a re r hysically tOllching or \.:onnected only by their silken umbilical cord, thc dil llccrs in this pas de deux partner one another with a combination 01' the delicacy 01' ballet and the mystery 01' tango. Suloll1olls is an Afri can-American dance critic and independent choreo ~rapher who has been involved in the contemporary dance scene sinee his lIays dancing for Meree Cun ningham in the 1970s. An active member 01' the 1) tl lI':C ('ritics Association, he has spoken eloquently about the need to indude di versc cOlllrnunities within our delinitions 01' mains Lream dance. A nd yct SOIOOl OIlS, lik c l11a ny o ther liberal cultural critics ano ar ls rev icwers, seIs up 111 Ih e uhnvc pu ssagc a pCl,;u li a r rhclC1l' ie which tries lo dl.lny d il'l ere nce. I lis ICIIltll'k , " fli tl I lIloll tioll Ihft l Vcrdi- I''lclcllc r ua m:l.!s 111 h ~'1 whcl!ld la ir?" slI g !'t:sls Ihal Ih e prCSi.'I ICe p i ;¡ (\0 11 \'1'1 ill :1 whl;Ck:hall l '; IIWll'Iy ;tll illc iJ l.!n ta l 1\) '
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klail that hanll )' ill lCn ll pl !<. 1111' ,¡·. II III L·...... llo w ur llle rOu\¡lIlti c pasdcuclIx . In that d isahili ly I.h H!s I/ tl Y 1Il1l ke a (hig) dirt\:rclIl!C. this writer is, in Il~d , lil11ilin g lll\.: (rcal ) d itTc rcllI.':c IlI al disabilily can ma kc in radically reflgur ing hnw we look al. conceivé u f. ami organize bodies in the twenty-lIrst century. Why , rol' insta nce, does Solomons begin with a dcscription 01' Goodman 's able body as "tall and elegant," and then rail lo describe Verdi-Fletcher's body at all'! Why do 1110st artides on Verdi-Fletcher's seminal oance com pa ny spend so much time celebrating how she has " overcome" her disability to " becomc" a dancer rather than inquiring how her bodily presenee might rad ically refigure the very category 01' daneer itself? The answers to these questions lie not only in an eltamination ofthe critical reception of " Gypsy" and other choreographic ventures by C1eveland Ballet Dancing Wheels, but also in an analysis of the ways in whieh this company paradoxically acknowledges and then covers over the difference that disability makes. There are contradictions embedded within this company's di ffering aesthet ic and soci a l priorities; while their outreach \York has laid an import ant groundwork rol' the structural indusion 01' people with disabilities in dance training programs ano performance venucs, the conscrvative aesthetic \Vhich guides much 01' Cleveland Ballet Dancing W heels' performance work paradoxically reinforces, rather than disrupts, the negative connotations of disability. The early 1980s genesis 01' Cleveland Ballet Dancing Wheels is anecdotally related by Cleveland Ballet's artistic director Dennis Nahat, who recalls meeting Verdi-Fletcher at a reception when she introduced herself as a dancer and told him that she was interested in dancing \Vith the Cleveland Ballet. In the annotated biography of Verdi-Fletcher's dance career which was com issioned for Dancing Wheels' fifteenth anniversary gala, Nahat is quoted as saying: "When I first saw Mary perform, I said 'That is a dancer,' [ . . . ] There was no mistake about it. She had the spark, the spiril that makes a dancer.',4 I am interested in pursuing this notion ol' " spirit" a bit, especially as it is used l'requently within the company 's own press literature. For instance, in the e1aborate press packet assembled for a media event to celebrate the collabor ation with Invacare Corporation 's " Act,ion Technology " (a line 01' wheekhairs that are designed 1'01' extra case and mobility), there is a picture of the com pany with the \.:aption " A Victory 01' Spirit over Body" underneath. I find this notion of a dancing " spirit" that transcends the limitations of a disabled body rather troubling . Although it seems to signalliberatory language -·_..one should not be "confined" by social definitions of identity based on bodily attributes (orrace, gender, ability, etc)-this rhetoric is actually based on ablist notions 01' overcoming physical handicaps (the " supercrip" theory) in order to becolllc a " rea l" dancer, one whosc " spi rit" doesn ' t let the lim ita li o ns 1) 1' her bud)' gel in 1he wa )'. G iven that dancers' bodies a re gcnerally o n d i s pl~ly in a pe! rn ll l l , liI~'I', Ihis (;\Í lIl mitll1cnt to " spi ri t o ver bod y" risk s c\lVc ri ll ~ nvcr 111 1.; 1:I ' .lIl j' d 1'•• 11111'11 Iwdi\,':-. altogclher. J usI 11\)w d o we represent a S ~ \J lll in g
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SII II III IJ,\ r, I( ' -'_ Itl v tlll li lls ir ll p lite ilh'! n l ~ pllhlJ~ ji )' pholl lgrll pll \1 1' ¡Ir.. t:11 1l1 pLllly I lfI Llll s¡ll1h.: Pll!(t: giVéS liS 0111: CXUnlpl1.! nI' thc VISLlul d úwnplayin¡; 01 d is:lhlcd hlld ies. 111 this stlld ill sil o!. Ihe tluce d:l m.:ers in whcclc ha irs are artlstically Sll lTlI UUUCU by llll' u bk-boJieu ualll:crs such thal wc ca n bard y 'Ice Ih..: whcck ha irs a La ll; in rael, VcnJ i- Pletcher is m ised up ane! do~cl y lla nkcJ by lüur ITIcn slIch Ihal she loo ks as ir she is standing in the lhird row . BUI IIlosl slri ki ng is the wa y in whieh the ball crina si tting 011 the right has hi!r I¡mg, slcndcr l eg~ exten ded acro ss the bottQm 01' lhe pi<;tu re. The clTect. oddly t:llo llgh . b to Ictishize lhesc working legs while at the same time l11
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whcc l\' hai l in n rd'·1 111 II I"k l~ 111'1 11 11\1 .1 I ~:d" WIl Ill:1I1. Now , il is pussible lo a rgu .: Ihat Ihis ill1a g.c h., ill I.I~ 1 ;1 Ol.'l'llllst ru dio ll (Ir Ihe bal1erina 's role, <1 way n I' winking tu Ihe aud i~ lIce lo say Ihat ye~, a disabled woman can al so fullil1 Lhal popular im agc. Bul the rest 01' the work doesn't surport this interpretation . Verd i-Flctchcr's smiling, child-like presencc suggests 1ittle personal agency, much less the sen se of defiance or ehulzpa h it wOLlld take 10 pull olT this deconstrueti on. In a short but potent essay reftecling o n the in terconneeled issues of d if ference. disabi1ity, and identity polities entitled "The O th er Body," Y nest ra K ing describes a disabled worna n in a wheelcha ir whom she sees on he r way to work each day. "She can barely moVe. Sbe has a pretty race, and liny legs she could not possibly wal k o n . Yel she wears black lace stockings and spike high hecls. [ .. . ] That she could ftaunt her sexual being viol ates the code of acceptable appear31lCe for a disablcd woman. "5 W hat appeal s to K ing about this womall 's sa rtorial display is the \Vay that she at once refuses her cultural position as an asexual being and deconstruets the icons of fe min ine sex ua lity (who can really walk in those spike heels anyway'!). Wa.tchjn g Verdi- Fletchcr in the final moments of "M ay R ing" brings us face to face with the contradic~ tions involved in being positioned as both a classieal dancer (at once sexualized and objectified), and a disabled \Voman (an asexual child who needs help). Yet instead of one position bringing tension to or fracturing the other (as in K ing's example of the disabled woman with high heels and black lace stock ings), Verdi- Fletcher seems here to be embracing a position whjch is doubly disem powering. Since this performance, I have been searching for tlle reaso ns why, in the midst of an enormous publicity campaign which seeks to present M ary Verdi Fletcher as an extraordinary woman who has overcome the cha\1cnges 01' spina bifida to rea1ize her drea m of beeoming a professional dancer. she would aceept being presented in such a fashion. In retrospect, 1 think that this desire has everything to do with the powerrully seductive image of th e Romantic ballerina . lt seems to me tha t when Verdi-Fleteher closes her eyes and dreams about becoming a dancer, she still envisiollS a sugarplum fairy. Althoug h she has successfu\1y opened up the field 01' proressional dance to dancers on whee1s by crea ting Dan cing Wheels, Verdi-Fletcher hasn't fu\1 y challenged this image of the sylph yeL. Despite its recent forays into modern dance, her company still sccms \lery much attached to an ideology of the classical body. Mary Verdi-Fleteher is a dancer, and like many other dancers, both dis ahled and nondisabled , she has intcrnalized an aesthetic 01' beauty, grace, and line whieh, if not centered on a eompletely mobile body, is nonethelcss beholden to an idea1ized body image. There are very few professions where Iht: strugglc lo rnaintain a "pertect" (or at least near-perrect) body has taken up as much psyehic and physica.1 encrgy as in the dance field. With few éxccpt il)ns, Ihi s is lrw: whet her o ne's preferred tech ni que is classieal ballet, Americu n Ill otkrn uun¡,.iJ, J3har:lla Na lyam , or él form of A frican- A merican
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l'his isslIe al' control is, I am convinced, key to understanding no t o n ly lhe \pcófic issu es of prejudjce agai nst the disab1ed , but also the larger symbolic place that disabil ily holJs in our culturc's psychic imagination . In dance. l he 'n lltrast between the classical and grotesque bodies is often fram ed in tenns o f physical control and technical virtuosity . Although the dancing bod y is II l\wing and, in this sen se. is al ways changing anJ in flux, the choreogra ph y Of IIln ve nlen t siyle can l'mphasizc il11ages reson ant 01' the classical body. For Instan\.:c, lhe slatucs411c poses 01' ballet are d ear icons 1' 1 Ihe classica l boJy. So tO(), Iwwcvc r. <1 re t he danccl'<; in sorne modem unu con h'; l1l po ru ry compa n· il'S whiclt pliv ilegc an ah~ l rac l hllJy, lür eXil mple Illn~e mnllv l''''l!1l1 I1 hoJies
pC II'ollllillg with tire Ml:ln C IIII II"'I~'II. lIrr I );IIICC ('olTl pany Ihese da ys. Bascd as il is il! lhe li w hody. d :II I\'\.' l.'\II1I ;t¡ IIS thl' cllltu ral an xiety that the grotesque botl y willl'l'upt (lI ncxpcctcdl y) Ihro llg h lhe imagc or the cIassica l body, shatter ing the illusi oll of case anu g r¡¡ce hy the disruptive presenee ol'fleshy experience heavy brcathing. sweal, t~chnica l mistakes, physical injury, even evidencc of a dancer's age or mortality. How l he d isabled body gets positioned in terms of a cla ssical di scou rse of tcchniq ue and virtu osi ty is not unatTected by gender. Gender is insc ri bed very diffc renlly on a Ji sabled body , and tbere has been a great Jea l wriuen on the \Vay Lhat disability can emasculate men (w hose gendered identities are often contingent on displays of autonomy, inJependence, and strength), as weJl as desexuatize wornen. Yet the social power which we accord re presentations of maJe bodies seems to give disabled men dancers (with a few exceptions) more freedom to display their bodies in dance. My OWIl observations and research suggest that disabled men dancers can evoke the virtuosic, teehnicaIl y amaz ing body (even, as we sha ll see, without Iegs). while nevertheless deco nstructing that cIassical body, aIlowing the audienee to see their bodies in a diffcrent Iight. In the seetion that f'Ollows. 1 will loo k at va rioLls dance groups (incl ud ing Candoco and groups working with Contad Improvisation) whose work ha s, in different ways, revolutionized notions 01' ability in contemporary dance. WhiJe Candoeo has established new images ofphysieal virtuosity and technical excellen ce- exploding assumptions that virtuosie dancing requires four wo rk ing timbs- it is withjn the integra ted work bascd in Contact Improvisation lhat we see d ancing which actually redefi nes the dancers' bodi es. refusing the cIassical/grotesque binary and opening up the possibility 01' lookin g at the dancing body as a boJy in process. a body becomin g. T his attention to the ever changing fl ux ofbodies and the open-endedness ofthe im provisation refocuses the audienee"s gaze, helping us to see the disabled boJy on its own terms. Candoco is a profession al British dance company which evolved from conversations between Celeste Dandeker, a former J a ncer with the London Contemporary Dance Theater who was paralyzed as a result of a spinal injury ineurred while perfoI1uing, and Adam Benjamin. a da ncer who was then teaching at the Heaffey Centre in London, a mixed abilities reereation center connected to ASPI R E (The Association for Spinal Injury Research, Reha bilitation , and R eintegration). 1n 199 1, these two dancers began a small dance dass for disab\ed and non-uisabled dancers . Since then , Benjamin anJ Dandeker have es tablished a professional company which includes eight dancers and an extensive repertoire of \Vorks by some 01' the most intorestin g experimental choreographcrs in England today. Candoco has received \'ari ou s awards in recognition for its work. and the company was selected 1'01' \3 BCs Dance fo r C arnera se ries. In trodueing the company's philosophy to the pl'cs:, and tlle genera l p ub lk:, Artislic D irector Adam Benj am in has choosen In rCd \!lin c lhe tcrm " illt l.'j·ral iI Il L" In his ma ni feslo of so r15 about the corn pa ny's hi sl !ll'y ill1il ¡'(lid.... 111 S\' OIl elr \lf Intégrily ," Benjamin writes:
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d:ll ll'l' A ltl lll ll ~ lt tlt ~· ~" \,Il'~ a lld IO \lb "l' h\\dic:-- I;¡\,,,~' d hy dllklCII ' d Ullce l' ul tun':"'I\HlY :1I11 \w Ip l '1 111111.' u q·tcC t.\ f va ria tion (ror ill:;I¡II ILC. the directo l 0 1' t 1I b:11I Uus ll W\' llll.!n, ./uw"iI.; Wi lla Jo Zollar, lalks a boll t Ihe lú.:euull1 IQ hav\! anJ t11 0VC ¡me\.; hu ll ill /\rrica n Ja nce as wonuerfully li bcralin g a ft cr yca rs 01' bc in g lold lo luá it in in modern dance c1asscs), most professional da n\.:c is stiLl il1l1ndated by body image and wcig ht issues, partic ula rly for women. Evcn compa n ies, such as the Bi l! T . .Iones and A rnje Zane Da nce Com pa ny, wh o pridc themselvcs o n the ph ysical dive rsity 01' their d ancers, rarel y have m llch variatio n a mong the wo men danccrs (a ll ofwho m are quite ::.Iirn). A ny tilm: a u ancer' s bouy is no t completely svelte, tbe prcss usually rnention s it. In rae!. lile disco urse of weight anJ dieting in dance is so pervasive (especiall y, bllt ce rtainly not exclusively fo r women) that we o ften do n' t even register il anylllore. r am constantly amazed a t da ncers who ha ve eo nsciously Jecon st l'lIeted traditional images of female dancers in their ch oreograp hic work. anu yet still complain of their extra weight, w rinkl es , gray hair, or sagb'Íng whatevers. As a body on d isp lay, the fem ale dancer is sLlbject to the regul at ing gaze of the choreographer and the public, but neither of these gazes is IIsuall y quite as deb ilitating o r oppressive as the gaze which meets its ow n irnage in lhe mirror. I fin d il ironic that just as disability is finally begin ning to en ter the public l:\lllscioLlsness and the independent living movemcnt is beginning to gain Illomentum , American culture is emphasizing with a passion heretoforc IIIlf'athomed the need for pbysical and bod i]y conlrol. 6 As K ing makes cll!ar ill her essay, this fctishi zation 01' co ntrol mark s the di sa bled body as lhe unl¡thesis orthe ideal body: It is no longer enough to be thin ; one must have ubiq uitous muscle ucl inition , nothing loose, flabby , or ill Jefined , no fuzzy bound aries . And of course, there's the importance of control. Control over aging, bodily pro\.:esses, weight, fertility, muscle tone, skin q ua li l J , a l1d movement. Disabled women , regardless 01' how thin , are wi th out full boJily control. (74)
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Ti me iltHI al'allllllll,: SI:CS Ihl: IIS~, ur llIis use 01' II lis word "ill tl.!grali¡·.n" lo dcs¡;n h¡; ti g J()lIp (1I lU':li vity thal has Opl'lIcO itlid!' Llp lO in¡,;Jud.: (1C\l ple wil l! d isa bi lit ics , ro in lcgr.ltc a group 01" pCl.lple il l this wa y n I' co urse im plics a non ll iuto wh id ¡ ¡hey need 10 be I!tt l!l.1. Ir howcve r. YCl u're usin g th a l wo rd, illtcg rat~ , rrom (he Latin i fl{(¡gral/fY. it force:' yOll Lo aán üwledge that l1¡ey a re a lreaJy an in tegral part 01" lhe wh ole, even ir you ha ven'[ found ¡hcm a place yet.7
T he press J iscussiollS 01' CandoCo 's tlrst few seasons repeated ly e mphasizc to whal cx tent t hi~ ¡;Olllpa ny ha ::; stretched people's notio ns of" what is possible in Ill ixcd ahility d ant:e ¡;Olllpan ie::;. Yct beca llse they rely o n one vcry cxccpti() l1u! di~;¡blt:J J.ant;l!r LO bl'ca"- d own lhe public 's preeo nct:pl inns aho llt L1 is,¡bility, C '
Victo ria Ma rks \\las Olll' 0 1 til l' IlI sl cll orc()gr¡¡rhers lo w() rk wit " C'a ndoc() (s hc was a Illcmber 01' lhoir li rsl d ass a l t11(' Ilca !ley Ccntcr, crcaLi ng "Thc Elige 01' the r- orcst " fOl" them in I()li 1), allll il is he]' choreüg rapby lhat is showc.ased in Margaret Wi lliams' dance film rol' the B13C, "Ou tside In : ' A lyrieal fIlm which interweave.s surreal pastoral landscapes with the urbane suspended rhythms of tango and the beat 01' world music , "Outside 111" begins wi th an extended kiss which is passed from one comp any member lO another. Tbe ca mera li ngers on each faee, registering: everyone's delight in receiving the kiss and allowing the viewer to see how each kiss is transformed en route to the next persono A jump-cut transports the aetion to a caverno us space in wh ich a single em pty whee1chai.r rolls into tbe camera's focu s. The compa ny then quickl y assembles and rcassembles, each time leaving a m aze of whi le paltern s on the floor, as if they had J USi stepped in chalk. This is the first time that the vie wer sees the dancers' fu ll bodies and individual styles 01' locomo tion. On e af the most striking is David Toole's abi1ity to carel;:n across the space with his arms. Toole is one ofthree disabled dancers, but he is l he only one \\Ib o m o ves easily i.n and out of his whee1chair. T oole h as no legs. lllstead. he relies o n his strong arms to walk. lronically, thc fact that Toole has no lower boJy gives him an incredible freedom 01' movcl1lent. Hi s presence is wo nderfully quixotic, and he can practically bounce frolll his chair to the fl ao r and back up again within the b1ink 01' an eye. Toole's abi1ities as a dancer are rel1larkab1e and are often the subject of extended d iscussions within reviews and preview articles aboLlt Candoco. Ad jectives such as "alllazing," "incredibte," "stupefying," a re liberally sprinkled thnJLlghout descriptions 01' his dancing. For i.nstaJlce, in an article in Ballet i11ernat;ol1C11 wbich reviews the pe rfonnances 01' several British dan¡;e com panies d urin g the spring 1993 season , Toole's dancing is the central focus 01' the short section on C andoco: "David Toole is aman with no 1egs who possesses more grace and presence than most d ancers can even dreal1l 01'. ... Toole commands the stage with an athleticism that borders on the miraculoLls ... Ir¡ This language 01' astonishlllcnt rellects both an cvangelistic awakening (yes, a disa bJed man can swagger!) and traces 01' freak show voyeurislll (se e the am azi ng fcats 01' the man with no legs!). David Toole's virtuosic dancing com es at a price-a physical price. Recently, on the advice 01' his doctors, T oo1e had to quit dancing. Bis extraordinary mobility is predicated on his ability lo support and carry his entire body wcight on hjs arl1lS, allowing hil1l to walk, run, or even skip across the stagc, Thcse astonishing feats, however, are actually destroying his arms and shoulders. Still, beca use 01' his status as a virtuosic dancer, T oole cannot seem to envision the possibi1ity 01' con tinuing to perform in a way that would not hurt his body (such as in a wh cclch air, or with fcwer athletic fe ats).1I Allhough lhe medi ulll 01' film is notorious ror its voyeuristie gaz.e and spcctilclc·mak ing lcndcncics, and ah hough T oo!e is one of the most vi sible d,IfH;t: rs in "() lI lsidt: 111 ," 11,,- l'(IJnh inati()n 01' skilll'ul cinematography a nd
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Recognizing the need to create their own style of dancing that wil1 accom JIl()da te different physical possibi lities, t he da ncers in CcUldoco are constanlly lry ing out new ways of using 1l10mentum, working in a variety oí' leveb illcludi1lg the floor, and coordinating legs and wheels. In a review orthe ral l I ()()2 Lond on seaso n, C hris de Marigny registers his own astonishment al t'anr!oc() 's work: Indeed all the dancers perform with amazing skil!. This is rendcred possib1c by the extraord in ury choreographic solutions which have heen invented to al10w these people with very difIerent disa bil ities to crea te the most sta rtling and bea utiful images. New eon cepts of fa l1ing, lean ing, and suppOJ-ti ng ha ve been created to ma ke bo th Iyrical ami at other times energet jc work.~
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Altltll ll!,h CIlIll Plll1i,'s ~Hl\' h w' ( Il1drl\,'\ ' arl: pmú ll ~i l\g \York lha l ~lrcldl e s Ihe ca lcgmics 01' d allce l\ ml dUllclIlg hndies, I red thal m uch 01' ¡heir work is slill in l'ormcd by
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Illrm ha~cd 011 Lhe n pll·.... I\l· L'I)1I111I1UIi¡;a tillll involvi!u Whl.'l1 two pconk bcgill to shu n: Ihdr w\Jigh t am i pll ysicaJ SUp p~lI t. Inslcad 01" priv ilcging un ideal lypc 0 1" body 01" 111 0VC lJlcnl slylc , C on lad Improvisation pri vileges a wiJlin gness lO ta kc physil:al ami e motional rls ks, producing a certain psychie disorien ta Lion in which lhe seemingly sta blc categories of able and di sable bcco me d islodged . Disability in profess iona l dance has often been acode for one typc 01' disability- namely the pa ralysis of the lowe r bod y. Yel in Contact-based gatherings slIch as lhe annllal D anceAbility workshop and lhe Brietenbush Jam , the dancers have a much wider range 01' djsabi1ities, ind ud ing vision impairments, deafness , and neurological condilions such as cerebral pa lsy. Steve Paxton, one 01' the originators of the formo c rea tes an apt metaphor for this mélange of talents whcn he writes: A group including various disabilities is like a United Nations ofthe senses. Instructions must be translated into specifics appro priate for those on legs, wheels, crutches, and must be signed for lhe deaf. Demonstrations m ust be verbalized for those who can ' t see, which is in itsclf a translating skill , beca use English is not a ver y flexible language in terms of the body.'· My first physical experience with this work occured in the spring of 1992 wlren [ went to the annual Breitenbush dance jamo Held in a hot springs rctreal in Oregon, the Breitenbush Ja m is not designed specifical ly for people with physical disabilities as are the D anceAbiJity worksho ps, so I take it to be a measure of the success of tfUe in tegration withjn the Con tact commun ily that people with various movement styles an d physieal abilities come to participate as dancers. Al the beginning of the jamo while we were introduc ing ourselves to the group, Bruce C urti s, who wa s facilitating this particular cxercise. suggested that \Ve go around in the cirde to give each dancer a n opportunity to talk about his or ber own physical needs and desires for the weck of non-stop dancin g. Curtis was spea king from the point of view that lots of people have special needs- not just the most obviously "disabled " oncs. This awareness of ability as a continuum and not as an either/o l' situation allowed everyone present 10 speak wi thout the stigma ofnecessaril y categorizing onese1f as abled or disabled solely on the basis of ph ysical l'apacity. Since that jam, I have had ma ny more experiences dancing with peo ple (indllding children) who are ph ys ically disablcd . Yet it \Vould be di singenll {lllS to suggcst lhat my first dancing wilh Curtis was just like doing Contact wi th a nybod y ci sc. IL wasn't- a fac t thal had more to do with my proco nccp lions Iha n his physicalit y. At Ilrst. I was sca red al' c rush ing his body. A f'lcr secing him d;lncé wil h tlthcr pcuple more f~lm i liar with !rim. I J'I:cllg ni l.cd tha l 'iOlOe prclly rc i ~ t y duncing, a nd grudua ll y I hl.'¡~ .1 1I 1\) 1rusl (¡ur he was \Ir
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·"id iu!,. 1111..' 1>II I:llp lh .1 11.1 tlril it y l It pt:l.l pk\ UPf'I..'l hollll" \' \1 Wltal ill ll i ~.UJc)' me Ubllll l Blaáwdl 's tI:IIh: lI1g 111 I his ulIet is 111l.' Im.:1 Ihal !lis Illo VClllcnl al once cvokcs imagcs l l j' lh ~ g ru tcsqlle a mi t he n leaJs Olll cycs lhl'O ug h the spcctadc 01' his body inlo Ihe cx peri ence 01' hi s parlicula r physil:ality. I>a '(lllll onl:e wro lc <1 detailed dcscriplion of Blackwell 's dancing which revca ls j usI ho\v mllch Ihe viewcr becomes awa.rc of the internal mo liva lio ns as well as the external consequences of B1a ckwell 's da ncing.
acslht:til' ami atte ll llvc l1l'S~ [ \1 tlll' tk '(l hl1 ily uf 1l1llVCIlIcn l iJcntitics can in I'O IJJI ;IlIJ be in l'orrn cd hy ally hudy\ 1lI 0WIllCIlt.. NccJlcss l ú sa y, lIly ill V(l lvc mcllt wilh C ontad Illlprov isation- train ing, tcal.:hi ng, alld researchillg the form-O urin g the last fifteen yca rs has primed me to :ice lhese liberatory possibilities in this work. That training has also alIo weJ me to reimagine my own physicality in the mid st of a disability. Allho ugh I would not want to min imize the excruciatiJl g1y painful process of dealing wi t h a sudden and severe mobili ty impairrnenl- the cxhauslion, the intense and un rele nt ing pain , not to mention tbe aggrava ti ng burea u¡;racy of American med ical institutions-I was grateful that 1 never once tho ught of giving ur dancing. C on tact hel pcd me ima gine o ther ways of moving, otber wilyS to be fulIy present in my body. Although 1 stilI struggled with m y ow n preconccptions abont how to dance, ano although 1 still fo und it difflcult to acccpt the Iimitations a nd boundaries of m y changed physical possibilities. 1 was deep1y grateful fo r the m odel that the D anceA bili ty work gayo me. Yet perhaps more important than helping me to imagi ne how to dance with m y disability, Contact belped me contin ue to reeonceive dancing even as 1 bega n to regain my I'ange 01' motion ano st renglh in my back . Suddenly 1 wasn 'l in te rested in getting, as one sclr-hclp book put it, "'back into shape," ror T didn't want simply to return to dancing as I had experienced it before. R ather. 1 wanted to ackn owledge this powerfullegacy ofdisability, to keep it marked on my bod y, Man y o f our ideas about autonomy, hea1th , and sel f-deterrnination in t his late twentieth -ccntury culture are based on a model of the body as an efficicnt machine over which \Ve should have total control. This is particularly true o f the current medical establishment, which is based upon an arrogant belief lhat doctors should be ablc lo " fix " whatever goes wrong, returning us al1 as quickly as possible to that classical ideal. Talking ovcr with doctors all the possible ,i nterventions inlo my condition madI..' me realize that I wasn 't sure I wanted to take part in such a system. lndced, these medical personnel nevcr scemed to notice the irolly in their contradictory advice. suggesting. on the one hand , that 1 should retire from dancing (at tlle ripe old age of 34), and on the other hand c1ai ming that they could fi x me up "as good as new" wü h the latest technological advances in surgery. What t bey could never envision is that the experience of disability was tremcndously important to me- through it I began lo reall y understand my own body and recognizc that no matter ho w lim ited , mine were strategic abilities. 1 refused the surgery and made a dance .
Emery has saiJ that to get his arm ra..i sed a boye his head require.'> about 20 seconds of imaging lo accomplish . Exten sio n and con lrac tion impulses in his m uscIes fi re frequently and unprcdicta bly, a nd he mu st somehow select the righ t impulses co nsciousl y, or produce for himself a mo vement ima ge of the correct q uality to gel the arm to respond as he wants. We o bservers can get en tranced with w hat he is doing with his mind. M o re objecti vely, we can see that as he tries he excites his motor impulses and the rando m fi r ing bappen s wil h more vigor. His dancing has a built-in Catch-22. A nd we feel the quandary and see that he is pitched against hi s nervo us system and wins. wilh efrort ano a kil1d ofmechanism in his mind we able- bodied ha vc no t h"d to learn. H is facility with them allows us to feel them subtly in our own minds. 15 Stcye Paxton is considered by many people to be the father of C onla¡;t Improvisation , for it was his workshop and performance al Oberl in Collegc in 1972 that first sparked the experimenta tions that la ter became th is d a ncc fOI1Tl. Given Paxton's engagement with Contact for twenty-five years, it ma kes sense that he would be an eApert witness to BlackwelJ's dancing. Pa xton's description of Blackwell 's moyement captures the way in which Contact ITll proyisati on focuses on the becoming- lhe improvisational process of evolv ing which never really reaches an endpoint. Contact Improvisation can represent the disabled body d ifferently precisely beca use it doesn 't try to recrea te lhe "esthetic frames of lhe c1assical body 01' tradition al dance contexts. Des pilc their good inte nti ons, these situations tend to margina lize anytltin g bu l Ihe most virtuosic movements. C ontact, on the other hand, b y co ncen trati ng o n the becoming of a particular da nce, refuses a static represe ntation of dis ability, pulling the audience in as witness to the ongoing negotiations of thal physical experiencc. It is important to realize that Al essi's dancing, by being responsive but not precious, helps to p rovide the context for this kind orwi l Ilcssing engagemenl as well. In their duet, A lessi and Blackwell a re engagcd in an improvisational movemcnt dialog ue in which each pa rtn er is moving a nl.l bci ng moved by the other. 1 find th is duet co mpe lling beca use it dcmonSl ralcs the cx tl1Lo rú in ary potc ntial of bri nging lwo pcople wil h very JilTcrc lI( phys ica l abilit ics togctJ1t:r lo shu J'c in une anoth er's molion . In Ih is :-. pa¡;c hclwc(!1t slldul Jancing. comhat. ¡¡nu physictl inti lll acy , lie.) a d ; III~'C l\l l lll Whnsl: open 0-1
Notes M :l ry Russo, "h: llI a!c (il'll lCs q ll l!s : r arnival ano Th eory," in Femini,l'1 Sludic.l'/ (·,.ilim/ ....·l/(tlit·,I'. 1 1) ~(I) .
1\;l'l:liil lk I t1 l1r~'lb , \!d. (B1oomington: Indiana Un iversity Press ,
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UOIIIIS , DI "" 111 '.' 11 1'.1111 1'1 '1 1.11 11 t" 1 " ~'\I)' "l /l: 1hat alJ",,~ t \:Vl' , \ "ill!I!OI V,,1 CIIIIIl .. ~ I IJC II r,l v 1'1 \·dll'Ull·d , 111 1IIl' I'"d v (gl' IlJ CI' dass "alT, S'\II.!I ll ly. ¡¡gl.', iI ~ w¡;1I as ahi lily ) 1I 1 ~ 1111<, th iN ¡; 1; 1 1i,~lcil l/A rt) l v ~q llt: Jl vil lc, \ (, LIS So IO Il h ' " S• .Ir.. " SI.l Vl!1l Me ll ," n/l' Villagc Voi('i' , M
S lIúd, 44.
1) C' hris de Marigny, "A Little Wo rld of Its Ow n," BC/llel IlIlerna!ionol, June 199:1 ,
33 F EM INI NE FREE FAL L A fantasy of freedom Pela Tui! Sour\:~:
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10 Ihid. 2(), 11 I aIll indebteu !o Jodi F alk for lending me a copy 01' the British TV prograrn " I ler(' C'ynlhia Novack, S/¡({ring lh e Dance: ClJnlacl/mprovisalion amI AmeriNlI1 e l/l/tII'L' (M:ldison WI: lJniversit y 01' W iscon sín P ress , 1990), 186. For references to Judso n Dance T heater see Sa ll y Banes' work o n the era, espeeiall y Terpsic/¡ore in S neaker,l' all d lJI.'1II0{,/,({{Y 's Body : Jud.l'on Da/l.ce Theater /962 - /964. I \ ('lI rl Siddall, "Contact l mprovisation ," Easl Bay Review, September 1976, c! led in "IIII (,amble. "On Contact Impro visatíon," Tlle Painled Bride Quorlerly 4 (Ann /\r hor: U MI Research Press, 1983), No, 1 (Spring 1977), 36. 1,1 Sk V\: Pa"ton , "3 Oays," Conlacl Quarlerly 17, No. 1 (Winter 19(2), ]J, 1 ~ INri. 1 (J,
('ircus cxists uneasily in what Peter StaJlybrass and AlloD W hite refer to as a "displacemcnt between sil es of discourse " in the hierarchy of geographlcal places associated witb cultural production. ' Jt remains part 01' Stallybrass and White's designated low culture in a stratilication 01' values in which society rcjects marginalized communities, but desires their presence to reinforcc the parameters of social normality , Circus was the most popular form of enter tainment in Australia 2 fram European colonization in the mid-nineteenth century until the 1920s. 3 It evoked an ideal of freedom within the context 01' a Ilcwly established colony which had rejected the old world. As Stallybrass and White explain wi th refere nce to Barbara Babcock's work, wbat is "social/y peripheral is so frequently symhofically central."4 The transitory nature of circus evoked a social fantasy 01' liberation from regulatory systems of order. The presentation of circus acts, however, was (lL"signed to maximize the impression of extraordinary feats. The trick could only be aecomplished within the circus. The tantalizing appeal of the circus pcrforlller depended on maintaining an illusion of unrestricted physical free dom in performance. J \Vould argue that the widespread fascina tion with the cirL"us performer as "other" for Australian audiences was analogous to that aCL"Orded to Stallybrass and White's "Iow-Other. '" The circus 's " lo\V-Other" could be symbolically venerated rather than social1y estccmed beca use the central experience 01' circus attendance involved viewing acts of physical c:
Acrial bodics and gender ( 'ircus pm vidcd U I! ; 11 1.: 11 11 rll l I'uhllc d ispluys of the body lhat defied soci a l cOll ve nti u llii ant! a ll\}wl'll \VI Jl lIt'tI p \..' I h '1IIIel'S t\, (!x pl o rc a frccd om of movement !()(,
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Ihal \\IilS pllllll hlll'd L"lM'w hl"l' i/l IlI ll,; nim:lecn lh-cl'/lII/I v A ll slralian socic ly. lt CIlII (, aVCll ed tlll' st.:pallll io ll 01' IlIa!'ClI linL' und fenllll ll le bcha viors whill: nlaill lailling lite Jis pluy u l gcnJcl ide nlil y. Acrial acl~ in parlicular rcvclscrJ Ilre :)I,)ciu l pn ll.;l icl! nI' I'esll'iel ing lhe be haviors of femaJe badies from ~x pli cit dl'!n oll!>lrali l)f1s 01' phys icalit y . F url hc mlOre, lhe woman aerialisl cs labli:;hcJ her llIyst iqUé by combining conlradiclory gendcr cooes, mark ing her bod y a ~ I~ rn illin l' wi l h her gestu res, poses, a.nd costume whilc pcrfo rming alhlclic, COll ntgCO Ll S acts 01' strength and oaring eo mmonly aligneo wilh ma sc ulinilY , Tlle stalus nf lhe gendered body, therefore, is rcconfigureo within lhis cu tegory ol'low c ultu re . Oid this undoing ano reconslitution or the gendered blloy turn cin;us in to a " sile o/ actual and .\)'lnIJOlic slruggle",!6 Pa ul Bouisstll: a rg ues Ihal circ lls is " more than j us t a representation of the contextual cul ture; il is also a metacultura l disco urse."7 T he soci al conventi ons are combi ncu J ilTcrcnt ly, bul th is rea rra ngement does not simply in vert gendercd position s, I :\lr cxa m ple , ci rc us exploited the appeara nee of gende red bodies lO heightcn I he il1lpact of lhe
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Mad allll' Add illL: AnlLí1l1l1 Jlll lle IINI ):; . 111 Bc! ll rc hcr Auslralian lour, A ntonio had hCl!1l vcry SIIl,;eCKIl I'u1 ill L!lnuul1 ':- III lIS ic halls, where fem aJe performers slriking P~) SC s 0 11 a sla lic ¡llld swinging Ira peze bar werc very popula r with audienccs. Solo trclpe/c work. w hidl does not il1volve lhe leat ofllying betwcen Ihe trapeze bar and a catcher, has been dominated by female perfonners since Iha t time. The gestures of gencle r identity are learned as pa rt 0 1' the routine so Ihat the female solo aeria list extends her toes and hands and c10ses her thighs in a corporeal aesthetic reminiscent of ballet da ncing. Tt was the capacity o f tCmale aeria lists to defy expectations of the physical co nstraints placed o n lhe booy whilc signifying it as feminine that ma.rked thei r suceess. The sense of unrestraineo freeclom was heightened when the female a.eriaJi st beeame a Aier. llut unlike the solo aerialist, a female fli er can o nly signify her leminine identity at the beginning and end of the trick, stand ing barefooted on her toes , one hip forward, her body at an anglc, and (lne arm rai sed or in a backward bend ." For a flier, the ultimate achievemenlÍs the mastery ofthe triple somersault executed in a free fall between a swinging bar and the hands 01' the catcher. A yo ung Rll5sian tecnagcr, L ena, ad o pted by the N orth A mer ican F lying Jo rdans, was recon.ieo in Sydney, Aus tralia ÍJl Apri l 1897 as the flrst person to master the backwa rd triple somersa ult. 12 T his was an olllstand ing feat considering that the single somersault had only been achievcd twenty years before, and at Ihal time, the mid-air double somersault was believed to be the definite limit of achievement. Lena was held by her feet in a swinging motion by one partner who was on trapeze. " When the proper point \Vas reaehed, Lena wouldfl ing into space, spin around like a ball, making three distinct somersaults .... " 13 Then she would stretch her hands out lo reach the catcher who was swinging across towards her on a second trapeze. In this example 01' aerial work, the feminine body appears fe arless as il reaches beyond the known limits 01' its capacity. lt falls freely in spaee outside thc cultural categories imposed by the gestures a nd movemcnts of femini.n ity . The female body was physically free , but the trick could o nly be executed within the circus. The performing aerial body oefles social controls imposeo on the remale body accordi.ng to defi nitions of age and race as wcll as gender. In the case 01' two ren o wl1ed Australian women aerialists, their oefiance 01' these limits in the cxeclItion of their ad brought thcm inlcrnational acclaim. By 1900, at Ihe age of eight , Mary Sole was the star attraction of the A ustralian Eroni 's ( 'ircus ror her bareback riding, her tightwire walking and her trapeze act. rhese fcals 01' strength and daring mad e a speetacle of this yOllng girl's body. I fe r successful career as the adult " La Belle Marie" on the trapeze culminated in star billing at Lond on's mllsic halls in the carly 1920s. Following her retufIl lo A lIslnll ia 10 hdp r un the family ci rcus , she continueo lo perl'orm 011 Ira pe/e till shc W;t~ lin y ycars 0 1' age. W innié (' olkt\lllt W:II'I 01 A b(lI il!l na I deseent and lea rncd trapeze work ing in he l' 1;lInily's lIucccs~11 1I ~Ii l " .. \\ 1111.:11 tuu red oll tbac k Austra lia prior lo tlle '11')
1111 1)1 Il oS ji} I O~ Al ¡I IJl ll\! wlll.. u llll· AII , I, :¡l iall !\bIHigill; 1I pl.,'fl pk WCI\! lIslra CI/\!d b wltll l' S\ll:Il:Iy " lid P I\!\c lI ll'd I mili lravdli ng, she adllcvcd IJl lúrtla liolla l SIK' t'ess alollgsid\! he r brolh\:r Co n C o licano . Thc S pan ,s h r-;cuúonym UUllplcU by he !" I"arllily t"Oll owéd Ihe cin;us (raditi o n 01" app ro pri Uling rac ia l iJ en lilie::; 11 1"01" pe rfOntl i:lrlce. She pi o neered the " heel a nd toe" ca tc h a nd beca mc él ¡¡1 m altraet io n with lhe combined R in glin g Bro( hers an o Bam um and Ba iley L"i r.. l"llses in NOrl h A mcrica d uri ng lhe l 920s as lhe only woman in the worI d doing Ihis da ngerous t rick. As Ma rk SI. Leon wri tes: "Swinging on her lrapeze as 11l1lch as seventy feel al o ll: , she would sudden ly let go in a free falL ca tch ti \(; lrapeze bar wilh her heels, an d then swing back and fo rth by her hec1s. ' ,I S The a erialist lransgrcssed lhe fi xed o rde r 01' gender beha vior imposed on s\lcial bod ies, Because the fema le aerialist desta b ilized fi mits to the aclio ns and mo vements of lhe physica l body a nd also belief in those fim its. :;he rearranged cultural categories of the feminine bod y.
Categories of the body The ICl11a1c aerialist \vas a star attraction beca use of her depiction of a ncar il11possibJe free fa ll lhrough space. In a historicization 01" circus practice , pcr forl11ali ve bodies appear to be outside the reg ulato ry processes of socic ty anJ illlplya realm ofpoten tia l freedoms beyond social laws. T he circus was popular hecause individual circlLS bod ics were pe rcei ved as " lo w-Other," transgress ing social categories so lhat entry into the circ us tenl invo ked a suspcnsion 01" social laws . The circlls inherited the Ba khtinian site of carnivalesq ue, 110 Its a~ ls were highly valued as entertain ment, and their po pularily legit imizcd I hci r capacily to contravene social catego ries of gender. But do aerialists C011 li 1"111 I he positioning of a marginalized community in a resi stant Opposilion, I h;11 is, does circLls function as a merely syrnbolic realm 01' social freedom s'! IIIt' allure ofaerial acts, particul a rIy those performed by WOl11en, by the turn ,,1" I hl~ l~e ntury would suggest that thi s performance was framed by a rcsbt ;II'\:e lo gender behavior that ga ined its symbolic force through an a pparen l dd ialll·c o f gra vity or natural laws. I:oucault indica tes ho w (he bod y is shapeu within hi storical circumstanccs. The condition 01' the so-cafled " na tural body" is an ideol ogical prod uc l o r d iscourse. As J udit h B utle r explai ns : " To be sexed , for Fo ucault, is lO be sub jcc lcd lo él set of so~ia l reg ulation s, lo ha ve the law that din;cts th ose rcgll la liolls resi de bolh aS the forma t ive principie 01' o ne's ~ex , gen der, pleas u n:s. alld desirc!> and as lhe hermene lJl ic princi pI e 01' self..interpretati o n ."11 Thc slIhslal1~e 01' social an d individual idcntity . including sex ual din Cren~c, ii) wr illl'l1 on lhe bod y, w hose beh av iors cOl1 vey meanings al1d e~t
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I\.'·cva l Ultlc \/ lI r ill hl:f1ll'd II kll t ,lll", ,lI ,d va IIICS, "nd ll) challcngc rccciv\!u ill ter pn: la til) lIs nI" th CI1 I. " ' ~' Butler wri ll:S lhal ti ,\.' IC¡;IIIaI \lfy ideal 01" identity arising rrom an e nacted 1;lI1tasy achievcli (; {, hC r t'l1cl~ IlIn)ugh (he legi ble corporeality of ac!s amI ges I mes: " ... aCb , gestUI'I.!ti , cnadments, gencrally construed, are peljórmalive in lhe sense thal the essence or idcn tity that they othcrwise purpo rt lo express a re /úhrimliol1s rnanu ractured and sLlstai ncd through corporea l signs and other discursi ve l11ea ns.,, 19 The body ' s actio n makes it socia fl y intelligiblc and gellerales understandin gs of a coherent sel r. T his raises qllcstions a bout where physical and phil osophical I"reed o ms in lersect in cultural praclice. Does the goal to free the bod y from socia l and cul tural eategori es contain a n im plicil suggestion of a phy:;ical body wh ieh ex ists o utside o f c1assificati o n'? BUller argues that physical bodies are ideological entities which can tran sgre!is cxisling sets of conslructcd categories only beca use cultural inscription and knowledges arise rrom the lang uages generated by performative bodies?) The indiv idual body i ~ located within c ultural la ng uages which con vey the combination of gender, dass and racial identity. Butler suggests that the bod y ami sel r ca nnot escape social dassification, and she questions the possibiliLy 01' a rea 1m 01' physica l freedom outside socia I ca tegories. But d oes this elim in ate social desire to escape social categories, the desire for a physica l body which is not dimini shed b y its capacity to be intel1igible? Does the circus ffie r foreshadow unrestricted movement in and o ut of classifica tion? Does t he audienee desire to glimpse a realm of freedom beyo nd pe rforma tive states o f identity?
SociaJ fr eedoms "("he circLls p ro vided a potent cultural icon of escape in E uro-centric culture into the earfy twen tieth century. lt existed as a migratory and temporary srace, like an open invitation to Ieave the restriction s and rigidity ofsociety. ¡\ popular mythology grew up around " runoin g away to the ci rcus," suggest ing individu als could escape the imposition ofsocial regimentation. In prac tice, ho wever, circuses were dominated by a c10sed cartel 01' fami ly network s. !\dmittedly, the circus welcomed young children who eo uld be trained into ó rcu s c ulture , but adult recruits were not particul a rly use ful as performers. <Jcrt ie Wi rth was f1ve years 01" age and her sister, May, \Vas three when they \Vere ado pted into W irth's circLls and began training for what became their dOllble trapeze act. 21 This \Vas a typical example in the Australian context 01' Ihe carly 190()s. In actll ality, young people who joined the circus did not [ un a way rro m hOl1lc; they were generally handed over by their parents or ~ lIa HJ i a lls 1Ilhh.:r a forlllal m ci.llilw l arran gel1lent when a circus was passin g tlm H'g.h l he a rca . Jllhn I{a rn s!alld d ;'li ms tha l "circuses in colonial A us tralia hcg,U1 tn ael a ~ in rnn1 ,a l. il w lf-ill k rcs tcd. ch ikl-wel ra rc agencies, ca ring for m:glccll!d a nd III1 Wil ll h.: d l h tl d ll' lI .. ' . (:il /Gem ld Bfíll hcrs even we nl as far
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ro)' aun pl l'd I IlIltl l ul." Ir Ihe cin.: us 1 ~'rrl'sC Ilh:d ¡¡ u01I1\1I 1I 0 1 IK'lslI ll a l libcra tin n, th is WlIS lart;d y a myLh wil lt sy rn hu lit: ar pnll wh ich Ihe circlIs Wi.l S It appy to perpetua t\! ou t 01' l'clf-in tcr\!sl. P¡;rltars Ih is a ura uf socia l rrcedom was not altogether a fallacy, beculIsl.' l:irClls eUl11m llnit ies olten ignored the raci al origi ns 01' individuals in recognition or lhelf talenls. Mark St. Leon notes thal there has been a greatcr acceptanc" 01' people 01' A ustralian Aborigi na l descent in circtls than in the wider commun il y. T his C0 Vcrl tolerance with io the cireus comm unity, however, did nO! extemJ lo aá nowledgin g Aborigina l heritage in the cin.:us ringoand AlIstrali an ci rcus his l ~)fy conlaim; examp\es of exploitation, 24 Most com monly, Aborigi na l pCl rormc rs had lO hide their herilage beh ind fabri cated but stereotypeu ratia l fa ntasics foun d in circus performan ce. Paradoxica lly circus generated an ideal of freedom by extreme regu lation ur individual bod ies. The physical discipline required to undertake circus acts is cven grea tcr tha n in mast other Western E uropcan tradi tions oftrai ning for performance. The circus appears to exemplify how in Ule popula r imagina I ion lhe lifcstyle ofthe performers was conAated with the ill usion of ease created during performance. Gi ven that circus perpetuated the mythology of its own CO lltravenlion of social freedoms which was , lo a large exten t, fallacio us. did acrialists symbolize a state 01' corporeal freedom? The aerial performa nce CI)lI ld lem porarily overthrow ideologies slIrrounding the body. Aerial bod ies wcrc sa nctioned to perform a physical freedom or movement which was most pwvocalivc arollnd categories of gender where the sexed body was tradition a ll y " Iigned with socia l identity . I wouJd argue that the po pularity of the ;l\.: ri"lisls in circus was partly due to their em blema tic function in ful fi lling ·'ne ia l dcsirc to escape the normatively performed enactment of the genk' leu boJ 'I. ,., PI 1111 1111111)'
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A fantasy of frecdom l ite "pcclalorial economy of th e femalc as aerialist in the late nineleenth 1'l'lIl l11'y beca me a central feature of music hall and vaudeville. Traey Da vis hlls dcseribed how the eroticized implications of male spectators viewing the SL'''" Ii1y d ad fcma le aeri alist at the tum of the century suggested an unequal !l;t!aIH':c uf social power, especially since the female costume was often con :-.idercd " morally objecti onable."25 As Davis explai ns. slIch perfo rmances \Ve r\! crilicized because they "highlighted lhe whoJe female body in spacc 1'1()1l1 all possiblc angles orview.,,26 Thc aClion 01' bodies in circu$ performance, howcver, exisled outsidc Ihc cOllla inmcnt of a ma lc-dcfined ga.zc. An in terrogati on o f the cxc.esses a mi n prcl¡siOll s ()f physica l bodies in ci rcus reyea ls how con tradkll>ry meunings operat \! I() cnhancc the appca rance 01" physical frecdoms. T hc visiblc rcpn:s ~lIla li ~HI 01' lhe kmalc lrapezc art ist was pólarizcu hclwl."cn lhe extremes 01' scrn i ~ pom ol' r: l phi l' poscs l"o uJltJ \I n pustcu rus iu Ihl." I X'J(ls ' / and lile l"hilJ '1 1
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pcr l'o l lllc r Wé¡ lIíll p. ;1 1III''1, ly gll l hl',~d l'osIU lll é, arms b¡tr\; anJ Icgs visible lindel' Iights, in t hc 111(lOs ¡ \l h 1.:1 Cil ll'd a spcdrulll 0 1' possiblc ll1eanings ro r dilh;rcn l hlld ií!s ill lklia llee pI n;sl riclive social calegoriz.a tion. Thc cornposi tion 01' ucrial pe rformance madc lhe body both available anu resistant to lhe ill1posilions 01' social catcgories. including that of an erotic femi ninc. The acria list i·n the ea rly part 01' th is cen tury perforrned tricks whi ch amazed a nJ daa lcd a udlences, and the fell1a1e body beca me 1l10mentari ly unclassi fiable when the aerialist undertook near-im possib1e feats. Flying out from th e lrapeze and fa lling thro ugh space demonstrated el spectacle of unreslricted if unattai nable physical freed om. Mastery over the aerial trid created a rea lm of performa ti ve freedoms which somersaulted meanings attached to physica l bodics into fan lasy. Aerial perform ance presents the possi bi li ty of frecdoms wh ich are ex peri enced th ro ugh the body as a performative condition wh ich is neither constant nor orientated towa rds the goal of soeial libcration. Athletic bodies defyíng the hitherto known constrai.nts o r gra vily in public a renas produced a fantasy of a physical bod y moving freely in social spaces. In lhe earl y decades of th e twentieth cenl-ury, circus advertising focused on the pleasures of viewing an al."rial body. 2~ rt ís apparent that the femalc aerialist, wearing a cl ose fitti ng costume on her partl y exposed body, represented an exaggerated image of insubsta ntial li ghtness which showed her ftoatin g in space Iike an halluci na tion . If as Slavoj Z iiek argues, freedom masks exploilation,29 then it is the illusions offem ini nily that circus exploits in aerial performance. The aeria list signifies how a material body is transposcd into a non-materi al condilion whereby categories of gendcr which ma rk lhe material body can be erased and resignified. T his is not a performance 01' lhe material freedom of phys ical bodics bul, rather, the illusion of freedoms. It is bordcring on ZiZek 's "fantasy-construction ,"'o which supports reality by alluding to the desire for a free fal! from social catcgories. Yet this desire masks the fear thallhe gendered body is not a Ill Qlterially fixed condition after all, and is inslcad an unsta ble changing entity. The social body ol' the femin ine is itself a fantasy body strivin g 1'01' free rall, a body that must be co nlinuaLly reconstituted in malerial representation to perpetuate lhe iI1usíon of its own existence , The fiier 111 0 menta ril y acts out the desirc of physical bodies to defy the gravity of social calegories, before returning to fam iliar territory wben he or she halts the free fall and reinstates gendcr identi ty and the material order of bodies. Physical bodies in circus are vicwed within th e speclator's pcrception of physical I"rccdoms which extend beyo nd social categories. T he acri,11 body was both high in status in the hierarch y of circus acts and vi !o> ually high in lhe circus lent. This inverted the social positi on 01' the body Il wrkcJ a<; vj(; ibly reminine. Pcggy J>hela n warns in relation to the political illlpliea li on :-; perfor mance II1"l "visibil ity is a trap."" In th is inst3nce, visihilil y cx pl oilS Ihe nlnl a ~y l,t" f'rccdmn in a difTerenl c(mce pt ua l bin ary 01' hig,h alld low T h\! "'011lili" nI' 11 11' m:rill l hlJJy was symbolica ll y pnwerfuL but
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Notes Peter Stallybrass and Allon White, The Poli/ies ane! Poelics (~f' Traflsgre.n ilill (London: Methuen , 1986), 194. (The italies are in the original.) 2 T he [irst ¡;ircuscs were eighteenth-century equestrian shows in Europe and th e~c ¡; volved into the ~peet ac le or the large travelling show during the nineteenrh ccn lu ry. Cireus eame lo A ust ralia in the early years 01' eolonizatioll, and by t he la te nineleenth cClltury there we re a number ofmoderately large eireuses including SI. Lco n's, Eroni's, Wi rth'~ and FitzG erald Brothers. (Mark St. Leon , Spungles al1l1 S(/\l'dll.l/ IRiehlllond: Greenho use, 19831, 104.) By 1900, the F itzG era ld Brothers' ( 'ireus was the largest AustraJian eircus, with 118 people, 80 horses and ponies, a nd nrteen eages 01' wild animals. John Ramsland with Mark St. Leon, Children oI/he Circus (Springwood: Buttcrf1y Books, 1993),49. <1 Slallybrass and White, Politics 11l1d Poe/ies , 5.
e; Ihid.
ti Ihid .. 14.
I'alll Bouissae, ('¡rn/s (//1(1 Culture (Bloomington: Indiana Un iversity Press, 197ü),
11
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lb\' 1') 70~ ;lIHI I')XII;, wli ",' 1'1 11<111111 '11' ,11 {' 11i'1I~ (,linls . (1lI lllrv icw wil j¡ I'en y :tlld lillllll y ('''VIII 0:1!;) and Ih{ "" 1111 .11 ,11 I :1" V~'g;¡;; , AugusI IX , I()')) ). 1\ (¡l.!1l1 1' ( jI'\JUVCS, 1'/11' ( '¡'I'//\ ( " 1111'S to 11111'/1 (SydIlO:y: Reed , II)XO), 50. 1.1 P~la Tail. " \):lIlgcl' 1)¡,:1i" ,lt ls' UCllder allJ Race T exts in Ae rial Performance." h Jrllll;Dmi ng in Nt'\ \ ' '/hnlll T Qllar/crl}' 46 (1996). l argue Ihat Ihe seope for ehal II.:ngi ng ¡,'.l.!llder beha vio l's in Ihe history or Australian eireus performance w¡u; rar gl\,¡¡ !cr Ihan lhe representalion orraeia l dirferenee. whieh was only permitted within a narrow range or raeial stereotypes. l'í Mark SI. Leon , n,e Wizord o/Ihe Wire (Canherra: A boriginal Sludie.s Press, 1903),157. 1(, Mikhail Bakhlin , Rahelais (lile! Bis Worle! (R1oolllington: Ind ia na Unive rsit y Press, 19(5). 1'1 .Iudith Bur ler, Gender Ji'ollble (New York: R outledge , 1990), 96. IX .lana Sawieki, Disciplining FOU Cll u/1 (N ew York: Ro utledge, 1990), 1Ul. 1') Buller, Gel/del' Trouhle, J 36. (The itahes are in the original.) ::!() Ibid ., !:lO. :.:l l R fllllsland with SI. Leon . Chilr/I'en, 34. 2 Ibid.,34 23 Ibid ., 44. 24 SI. Leon , T/¡e Wizard, 124. :!5 Traey D avis. AClresses as Wo rking WOl11el1 (London: Roulledge, 1991), 123. 2(¡ Ibid .. 124. 27 Ibid ., 130. 28 Greaves, The. C ircus, 28- 29. For example, the elearly defined body a.lld racial features of the female equistriennes can be eompa red lo the nonspeeifie depietion or female aerial i ~ts on postergo 29 Slavoj Z izek , The Sublime O~iecl o/Ideology (London: Ve rso , 1989), 33. 3D Ibid.,45 .
ji Pcggy Phelan , UIl/1larked (Ncw York : Rout ledge , 1993), 6.
.12 1bid. , 153.
7 X. X Ihid., X,
') Ma rk SI. Leon, T/¡e Sil!'('/' Roud: The Lile oIlvfervYI1 King, eirc/.,.I' Afan (Springwood :
1Illllerf1y Books, 1990),33 . (The italies are in the origina!.) lO SI. Leoll, Spangles, 94. I1 Scc Peta Tait, " Oisappeari ng the FClllinine in Aerial Perrormanee," WOI/J en al/el /J(" :/;)/'/lIl1n(,'e, vol. 7 (no. 1. 13). T he im plicatiolls of ae!S 01' gender wil hin aeri:" perfónnance are diseussed here. as is the ~ib'11ifiea llee of the female flier Illoving lo wards the male eateher. 12 I'ete r Malhews, ed. , The Guilllless Book o/ Records (London: G uinness Publishillg, 1')94), 175. Th e SUI1 (April 9 1897), 10, T he show by the Flying Jordans opened () 11 1 May 1897 al the T heatre Royal, Sydney, The SUIl (May 14 1897), 7. Thi ~ au:c)u l\ 1 orl he aerial routine lists Miss Rose Jordan as the perrormer of"three sOlllersaulls in Ihe air." In North Amerie,Ul eirells lo re , however, Antoinette COTleello is rc \:()g nized as Ihe [irst wo man lo do this aerial triple somersault in Ibe mid-l !)l Us See Jo hll ami Ali¡;c Duran!, Pi('/oriol /fi.l'/or)' o/,//¡e A /I /l'r;c'!l1 he!' ;1¡;\¡il'v\:IlICII I is l'al'licllla tly tl ll po rlalll heC\IISI' Sltl' SII SllIIllI'd lite' Iriple Slllf\¡;rll;lIdt 111 11" 1 ,,,"tilll' Iltr(lll)',ll\lllt
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34 DR AM ATURG Y OF
THE SP ECTATOR
Marco De Marin is Sourcc: Translatcd by Paul Dwycr, TDR: T/¡e .!ournal 100 114.
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An unlikely association I wish to reconsider here the problem ofreception in the theatre as broadly and with as little theoretica l bias as possible. On the one hand, 1 wil1 concen trate on l'csults drawn from the work oftheatre practitioners while considering. o n lhe other hand , the hypotheses and data coming out of the scientific research into this and l'elated matters. T his research ha s been going on in va riolls f1elds- often via a multidiscip linary approach ranging from sociology to experimental psychology, from anthropology to history and, of co urse, to scmiolics (see De Marinis 1982, chapler VII, 1983, 1984, 1985). Thel'e is an unlikely association of two tel'ms which we are not general1y lIsed to seeing as connecled: dramalurgy and speclalor. First, an important distinction in terminology: Drama tlll'gy- This may be defined as: th e set of tech n iq uesltheo ries governing the composition of t he lheatl'ical text. Theatrical tex t- This is no longer meant to indicate the dl'amatic, literary text but rather the text 01' the theatrical performance (Ieslo .ljJe//aco/(/re), the performance text. This is conceived of as a com plcx network of different types of signs, expressive mean s, ol' actions, coming back to the etymology o f the word " text" which implies the idea of lexture, of something woven together. "Dramalllrgy" can now be lldi ncd as: lhe techniques/theory governing the com po:i ílion ~l r Ih\! pCIII)f llIancé-a:H ex t (l es/o spellaco¡are) ; it is: lhe set of cchn iqul's/Ihcor il.:s ¡"'W I "" I!' I he ("() lllPll:,;itioll 01' signs/expressi ve means/ '1')
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Oramaturgy of the performance/dramaturgy of the spectator lll hc basÍ!) llfthis redefi nitio n, there c1early exists a drama turgy orthe director alld ti ura l1latLlrgy ofthe pcrformer. Howevers ur prisingly it may seem at fina, we also ca n an d should speak- not just metaphoric,llly--of a dram al urgy 01' lhe spcctator (see R uffm i 1985). Por a start, I wo uld suggesl that we can speak nI' lhis dra maturgy o f t he spectalor in two ways, both 01' which are a lready Jrammaticall y presen l in the do ub le mea ning (objecLi ve and subjective) 01' the r osscssive "01" ': l. Wc can speak of a dra ma turgy 01' the spCctator in a passive o ro more precisely, o~jec.:ti ve sen se in wbic h we conceive of the aud ience as a drama turgica l object, a ma rk or target for the actions/operations 01' lhe director, the performers, and , if there is one, the writer. 2. Wc can also speak of a dramaturgy of the speda to r in an active or sub jcctive sensc, refe rring to the various receptive operati ons/aetions tha t an a udience ca rries o ut: pcrception , in terpre tatio n, aesthetic a pprecia ti on. memo rization , em olive a nd inte llectual respon se. etc. (see De Marinis 19S3, 1984). These o perati o ns/actions of the audience's members are lO be considered trul y dramaturgical (no t just meta pho ricaJly) sin ce it is only thro ugh these acti o ns that the pcrfonn ance lext achieves its fullness, bccoming realized in a ll its semantic and communicativc potentia l. N;ltllrally, in order to speak o f an active dramaturgy of the spectator, we mll sl sce her/his understandin g of the performance not as some mechanica l ' II'lC ration which has been strict ly predetermined- by the perfo rma nce a nd its pll ld llcers- but rather as a task wh ic h the spectator carries o ut in condi lions IIr Icla tive indepcndence, or, as Fra nco Ru rfini has recently suggestcd. in con dlllOIlS uf "controlled creativc au tonomy" ( 1985:35). T he parti a l or rela tive ;lIlllll10my of eaeh of the ditTerent dram atuTgies (the director 's, the write r's, the pcrformer's, Ihe spectator's) all work toge ther in the compositio n of the pelformance a nd m ust be seen as mutually setting aad occasio nally adjusting each other's boundaries. In particular, as rega rds the spccta lo r, to d en y her/ hi s (rclative) autonom y or, co n versely, to con sider it tota lly beyond rcslrainl.s llIeans upsetting and threatening the balance between determina tian (con ~Iraint) a nd freeclom; t his di aJectic between th e constraints im posed by Ih!.: wo rk (the "aesl hetic text" ) and th e possibilitics left o pen to (hose whn rcccive I he wo rk sl ri kcs a bal a nce wh ich is the essencc o l"t he aesthetic experiom:e amI Ihe sO ll rcc 01" ils vi lalit y.
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1hl'Y t lI rn 0 111 fll he dw.d)- 1I 1l ~"d ."Id .11I dill'(' t1y IIpol1 l!m;h llth~r in tha t they l'ad l d l.!tive 1"1"0111 llrl' two l"u lld ullIl."lI lal a nd insepara ble dimensions (like two sidl.!s ul" a ~() il1) whil:h loge llrcr cOl1slilule lhe per fo rmance event and the "tlrcall"ical rdalionsJ ll p. " O ne siJc () I" lhis " theatrical relati o nshi p" the rela tion o f performance lO ~pcc tator-c()mprises a manipulation 01' the audience by the performance. r1uough it:; actions, by puttillg to wo rk a range of de fi ni le semiotic strategies. lhe performance seeks to induce in each spectator a range of definite tran sfor mations, both intelleGtual (vognitive) and arfecti ve (ideas, beliefs, emoljo ns, fanta sies, values, etc.). The performance may even urge its auJie nce to ",dopt pa rticul a r forms of behavior such as in politica l theatre. This manip ulative aspect 01' t he perfo rma nce can be expressed in terms of Algirdas J. Greimas' theo ry: the perfo rmance o r, better stiJl , the theatrical rel ationshi p. is not so mllch a making-k.nown (faire-sClv(]ir)-~that is, an ase ptic exchange of in forma tion/messages/knowledge- as it is a making-believed (fa¡re-cro¡re) ami a making-uone (.faireIa¡re) (see Greim as and Co urtes 1979). T here is perh aps a further explanation to be made here: in speaking of " theatri ea l mani p ula lion," 1 do not mea n manipulation in the ideol ogica l sen se which the term traditionall y implied before its use in sem iotics. That is to sayo1 do not mean to refer exclu sively to cases where the deliberate and explicit a im of the p ro ducers of a performance is to persuade or seduce. 1 wish instead to bring to li ght an essential and intrinsic aspect of the performance/spectator rel a ti o n ship as such . This pa rticular aspect depends , in turn , o n the asymmetrical a nd unbalanced nature of this relationship ; for whatever effo rts have been and will in the future be made, this relationship can never become one 01' real equality (see De Marini s 1982, chapter VJ, and 1981). The other side to the theatrical relationship, contem poraneous with lhe first , consists of an active cooperation by the spectat o r. Mo re than just a me ta phorical coproducer of the performance, the spectator is a rela tively auto nomous " maker of mcanin gs" for the performélTl ee; its cognitive and emotive ctTccts can only be truly actualized by the audience . Orcourse, the spectator's "cooperation " d oes no t refer to those rare cases which call for an effective, matcrial contrihuti on from the a udience , bu t rather to the intrinsically active naturc which makes up the spectator's receptíon of the performance. Whcre both meanings 01" a " dramaturgy oi' the spectator" overlap (though in theo ry perha ps more to wards the passive or objective meaning) is where we lind the t¡uesti on s concerning the notion of a Model Spectator; the theatrical space as a determinant factor in recepti o n; and the structuring of the audi ence\ attcnt ion.
Thc modcl spl'Ctator
O nJ y in thcory ca n we dcn rl y sepam le these tw o d ramalurgies 0 1" IIIl' spcL'l alu l , tho Olll: passivll (u bjC\.:tive) and Ihe 0 111('1" act ive ( s ll "jC~IIVI! ) . 111 fad o
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pl cci'id y. he lwl:el\ IWIl J ifll:n.!lIt Icvds 0 1' n:ccpl lon: l . T he cxtra-tcxtllal leve! 01' t he rcal (empi rieal) rcceiver: T his level lll' ft!ceplion consiS IS orthe rcadi ng slralegies which are efrective! y aclivalcJ dllli ng Ihe comprehension of a text. 2. T he intra-textual Ievel 01' the implied (the hypothetica l, ideal, virtual) rccci ver. T his level comprises lhe Slrategies wilhín the text, the manner 0 1' inlcrpretation anlicipaled by lhe text él nd written into it. We must llnderstand that this implied recei ver-U mberto Rco's "Model Rcauer," whcnce my "Model Spectator" (Eco 1979)- represen ts a hypot het ical consl ruct and is sim ply parl of a t heoretical metalanguage. The idea is 11 01 to see t he receptive processes of the empirical rcceiver as being rigidJy preset nor to indica te a normative reading that is somehow optimal, relevan t, nI' correct, and to which eve ry real receiver should try to con fo rmo Eeo's Model Reader was proposed as something quite different: it Was un altempt to remind us that production and recepLion are strictly lin ked, cven Ihough they obviollsly do not altogether coincide. (This runs eOlln ter lo lhe arguments of various poststructura list tendencies such as the " Yale School" 01' dcconstruction which speaks 01' readi ng as misreading.) It was al so an attcmpt to show in what fmm this strict lin k between production and recep lion may, from time to time, present itsel!'. rn other words, it meant being a\Vare that a tex! postulates its own receiver as an indispensable co ndit ion not only 01' its own , concrete com municati ve abililY, but also of its own potcntial for meaning. [ ... ] A [ext is a product, the terpretive fate 01' which belongs , in part, to its own generating mechani sm. (Eco 1979: 52- 54) W!ten I first sllggested lhe notion of a Model Spectator (see De Ma rini s 1()X2), my objecti ves were the same as Eco 's: l. to show tha t prod uetion and reception ol' the perfon nance, even givcn Iheir recip roca!, partial autonomy, are c10scl y connectcd: 2. lo show exactly in what way a nd to what t1eg.ree a pe rrorm ance a nlicip ates él certain type 01' spectator (a certai n typc 01' reccption); Ihal is. t show precisely in what way and Lo wha! dcgree a pcrronn a nee tries 111 conslruct/preuetenni ne a certa ill type 01' recept ion, bol h as a pan ils inlerna l Slrucl urc a nd as ilu nloh.!s. Sli ll lo ll (>wing Ihe !cad ot' Eco ( IY79), I prcv iously con~idcred these tWll problcms ill lcnm o fa Iypnlogy which ra ngcd frQm "dosel! " to "oren " pcrformanccs.
or
Closed r>c rror l1la l1cc~ al1 lll'lllUll' a vcry pnx:ise rct:dver and demand well defined lypC!i 01' "c()Illpdellcc" (ellcyd o pcd ic, idcological. etc.) ror thei r "corred" recopl io n. T his is moslly lh e case with cortain form ~ 01' gcnre-based theal re: p~)lilical theatrc, ¡;hildrcn 's Iheatre, women 's lheatre, gay theatrc, street thealre, llIusicals, dance Iheatre, mime, and so on . In these cases, of CQursc, the performance only "comes off" to the extent that the real audiencc eorresponds to the antieipalcd one, thus reacting to the performance in the desired \Vay. If, however, a dosed perfo rmance is pertonned fo r a spectator far removed from its Model Spectator, then things will turn out rather differently: imagine, for cxample, the behavio r 01' an ad ult at a child ren's performance; or the reacli on of a straitlaced wowser to a slightly risqlle variety number; or the unprogressivc male who fiods bi mself al a feminist performance, etc. Open performances a re at the other en d of the con tinuum. Open perform ances ma ke a poin! of addressing themselves to a receiver \Vbo is neither too precise, nor too dearly defined il1 terms oftheir eneydopedic, intertextual , or ideological competence. 1n a suecessful1y open performance, the perception and interpretatiol1 for which the theatre produeers call1lpon the spectator are not rigidly preset. Rather, aside from unavoida ble textual constraints, tJ1e performa nce will leave the spectator more or less free, though still deciding the extent to which this freedom ought to be eontrolled- " where it needs to be eneouraged, where directed, and where it needs to be transformed iIltO ú'ee interpretive speclllation" (Eco 1979:58). The openness ofany given perform ance text might even be related to, and ifpossible measured by, the number of performanct: signs which are based 011 codes 110t shared by the spectator (RlIftini 1985:32). In this respect, the obvio LIS reference is to experimental theatre or "theatre of researeh " ÍJ] aH its various forms , from the historical avant-ga rde and on. A more interesting case, however, would be the example ofman y non-Western theatre trad itions where the normal practice is to leave plenty of interpretive freedom to the audience, and nol lo impose fixed readings . f orms such as dassicallndian theatre, kathakali, Balinese dance theatre, kabuki . amI even the 110h plays general1y demand varied level s of understanding and enjoyment; al1 of these readings are equally legitimate or rc1evant , though not always of equal importance or val ue . since they can all trade what is actually there, in the performance, in exchange for some sort 01' emotional or intellectual gain . O bviollSly, at this point, the category " opcn performances" becomes unw ieldy since il must incorpora te many di verse strategies for dealing with spectators and prcdctermining their understanding of the performance. Hence, we must make a dis li nction between t\Vo types of open performance. O n the Ol1e hand, Ihere are avant-garde or experimental performance texts whose "o pcnnes~" Ihl:ir highly ¡ndetermína te makeup and loose fixing of rcadi ng slrategics dlll.:s 1101 corrcspond lo any real ¡ncrease in the range and Iypc ur d csin.:d spcc luh ll . hu i whid . Icaus rathcr to a more or Iess drastic
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Ih us, aCLualizillg Ihc LéX I's sC l11 a nl ic lInd cÓl11 llwfl icaliw potcn tia l alsll .cq llircs a spcdalo. lo posscss a ra ngc of oncyd opcdjc. intertexlual amI idcological compclcncc whid l is :t ny lhing h uLstandard , 111 this sensc, as Eco has said , there is nOL hi ng more dl1seJ than an "o pen" work (un ' opera aperla ). J ames Joyce's Finncgal/s Wllk ,', which is one orthe most "open " texts in worklli tera tu re becallsc o rthe ~rca l mass al' work its cOllntless "blanks" ¡eave fo r the reader to fill in, als dra stically liOl its the num ber a nd type o f reader:; a bl c lo successrully join in it s selllantic and communicative actualization. On lhe other hand , we also fi nd performance texts and theatre for ms where this o pen ing up ofintcrpretive possibi lities d oes correspond to a real openness 01' rcccption: the openness leads to a real increase in the n um ber of " autho rizcd" spcctalors and in the types of rel:epti on alJowed fo r ami compatible wi th the pe rfo rm a nce lext. For cxamp1c, traditional l nd ian theatre al:cording lo the lh~oretil:al trcatll1ent of it in the N alyasaslra- was devi sed so t hat indiv idual alldiclKe ll1ell1bcrs cOllld find in it whatever interested them most, witho uL ahllsing or mislInderstanding the drama in the process (see Ghosh 1967). I bclievc it is precisely on this level that \Ve find the main difference between ex perimental or avant-garde theatre amI the ground now occlIpied by Ú¡C international New Theatre which , a few years ago , Eugeni o Barba slIggestcd Gl lling the "Third Theatre. " The theatre of the avant-garde, while staunt.:hly IIpposi ng lhe passive and standardized means ofconsumption fOlln d in main st rcalll thea lre, has often ended up prodllcing esoteric wo rk s reserved fo r a sch.:cl hand of "sllpercompetent" theatregoers. Ilowe ver, in Barba's "Thi rd Thca trc" the aim- though not always achieved- has been to crea te perform :l1Il:es which might allow a real plura1ity of rel:eption or viewings which a re l'qual lo one another. So far, 1 have sai d litrle regarding lhe al:tllal means·- the strategies and lt..' chniqucs -by which a performance builds into its textual strlll:ture and :1 111 icipates a certain type of reception. a c1ear1 y deteTmined attitllde which the spcctator may hol<1 towards the performance. Among lhe many elements that llIakc up the dramatic spectator lIsed by rhe p rod ucers of tbeatre in respect to lhe spectator, I wi ll now consider two in tcrrelated elements of decisive illlporlance.
Manipulation oCthe theatrical space and ol' tbe pbysica1 performance/spectator relationship ¡\ Il10llg
lhe"ll re practiti o ners it has long heen known tlla t rhe actual placemcnl
01' the spl.:dators ""it hi n lhe IheatricaJ space and thelr rclati on to lhe playing ilren are ce nlra l to rhe way in which lhe performance is rcceived . In Ihis ;un lexl j I!l.:rc is a mü¡;s 01' lhéo rclica l a nJ pradical guiJd ines l'oncerning )l\.'I:-'IK'ct.vcscencry whid l
nrt Ih(' cnd 01' Ihc 1')1 h ,'cnt 111 ~ ,Iml ~' 1 1l1l1. idlllg Wl lh the risc lll' Ihe d irector , there \Vas UI1 illcrcasi llfly lII l\clI l IIcl'd 1'1 11 dl i.lnges t,l the thcalri cal norms 01' that tlll le.:. The pussive and II nqllcstin ned process 01' llllitication thal the m imetic pcrfl1r mallcc rules uf Nalurali slII had proposed. o r rather imposed via the sla gi llg, was first lO go . T his in itiallllod ifkation was effected by manipu lating Ihc Ih calrical spacc a nu the physical performance/spectator relalionship . The l'hanges took two forlllS : first , a breaking out from the "lta lian" stage, the h/lile aux i lfusiolJs with its neat separalion between a raised stage and the sta lis, hoth of which were laid out facing ()!lC another straight-on; anJ second , a scarch for various al temative spatial arrangements that might díspose o f lh is frontal rc1ationship and the distance between perfo rmance a nd spectator: a scarch , abovc all' for ways of bringing the two as close together as possible (I'or exalllple, those thea tres with a central desif,rn where the audience surrou nd s Ihc playing arca like G ropius' "to tal theatre," or the opposite 501ution tried hy Antonin Artaud at the T heatrc Alfred J arry, wbere the specrator is sur rounded by the performance). In this way . nor only the shape of the lhea lrical space and the physical pcrforlllance/spectator relationship changed . but also , in the most radical solutions, lhe performance itsclf now literally passed from view. Prev io usly , the performance had appeared as a uni tary object to be grasped whole by Ihe onloo ker. T his had led to the uni rary model of performance usage that ror centurics had been the basis of Western theatre. Now, however, this ulli tary model entered a deep crisis. In many cases the spectators were forced to ack nowledge lhe irredeem ably partial and subjective nature of t heir experi cnce of the performance; this expcrience \Vas no\V strictly conditioned by thei r material position. their point 01' observation. The same audience member occupying differcnt places on ditTcrcnt nights would see, literally, a different perform
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P¡; rl llI llIL:r allll spcclat OI hy intl.!r:;pclsillg Ihe 1\\ \\ lIT 11> ",Ivill!!. thé r crlúrm crs use all parlS of tite spm:\!, orlen pcr("ol1l1ing J i1\!Clly 111 tl!l: Hudiencc (as J iJ lhe Li ving Thea lrc in lhe '60s). In orJer lo l1l axirnílC lltl! :.pcelalo r's in vll lve menl on an emolional and inlellcclua llevel , altem pts were made ev<.'n lO give them a role, albei t a marginal one, wi thin the performance ilself. Th is is ex
The structuring (montaggio) of the spectator's attention In discllssing how theatre practitioners work upon the attcntion of the spec tator, \Ve come to what is perhaps the key to all the dramaturgical strategies hy which lhe performance establishes its relationship to the alldience. ln ract, properly considered, the manipulation of the theatrieal spaee is simply one Icvcl or one aspect of a much larger maniplIlative strategy aimed precisely al Ihis structuring of Ih e speetator's attention. 01' all the leaelers of the Third Theatre, Eugen io Barba, director of lhe Odill Teatret, has been , 01' late, the most effective in underlin ing the decisive importance of the perfo rmers' and director's work upon the spectator's atlcnli on: th is work helps determine whether the perfol1nance rnects with "slIccess" and is especially deeisive in the communicative relationship lhallhc Ill~rf(lnllanee sets up: T he more the performance allows a udience members Iheí r Qwn cx pcricl1ce 01' the staged experience, the more it must al so guide their altcnt ion so that , in all the cOl1lplexity 01' presen l action, the spcctator <.loes not lose lhe scnse 01" direct ion, Ihe sense 01' past and rll tu re aelioll Ihe hi.l'lory o" the pC-'rfonnancc. Al! Ihe m~am; wh il' h rcrmit Ihis slfllclurin g I)r tlll' .~pt:clll l or·s allcnlioll C;III hecx tnlL'h:d Imn l "lhe Iífe \)rll1c di ,111111" (1111I11s fmm 22(1
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tillo" iIl'lillllS Wllld l IIlh 1111: III ¡II)" 111 1\1 play): fmm the diachnmie alld SY1H; hro nil' :;111I\.· llII C~ \\ !l ldl ;1I~ II l1ctlvc r~:d thcrc. To give Jife 10 Ihe dramu is 111>1 sil'l1ply 111 p lOI Ihe actiolls and lensions orthe perform a nce but also l o slructurc the spectator's attention , ordering its rhy thllls ¡¡nd invok ing its moments of tensioD WithOllt, howcver, imposing any one intcrprelation. (Barba 1983a: 46: see also Barba 1981) This theme is also central to Grotowski 's most recent theorizi ng. Speaking at a 1984 conference in l taly, Grotowski dedared that "the ability to guidc the spectator's attention " constitlltes "one 01' the essential problems of the director's trade" (1984: 31). lt is, in fact , due solcly lo lhe application and proper functioning of the spcctator's selecliI'e attention that the thcatrical relationship is act ually set into place and maintained ; only then is the performance transfo rmed from él eonfused jumble of disparate elemen ts into a performance texl furnished , at least potentially, with its own meaningfulness and coherence. This Illay seem lrite inasllllleh as il holds true for any other type of ucsthetic ex perience. However, in the case of theatrical perfo rmance, there is no do ubt that the sensor)' faculties of the percei vi ng subject arc called upon lO sustai n an effort to which, for both q uantity and quality, there is no equivalent in any other arlistic fi eld . In this context, Roland Barthes spo ke suggestively of a " poly phony of infol1l1a lio n" in theatrical performance, indicating the mu llipl icity 01' he terogeneous si gns that are simultaneously cmitted (Barthes 1963). Yet cven Ihis does not go far enough: to thi s polyphonic quality we must add that lite performance text 01' , more exactly, its dense signifying surface, is charac tcrized by its nondi.w:relene.l's (in that it is continuolls), its in.l'lahilily (in that it is variable), and its imperrnanence (i n that it is ephemeral) . These textual and con textual features make it absolutel y essential Ibat spectators discard and even drastically eliminate sorne of the mass of stimuli lo which they are exposed both successively and simultaneollsly by the per rormance. (Of eourse, the spectator nearly always does this automatically and IInconsciously.) This only becomes possible by actively engaging Ihe two modes 01' " percepti ve doing" (júire paceplli} whieh some psychologists have ealled "attentive focalization " and " selective attention ." (Others describe the sa l11c process as a passage from a diffuscand passive "seeing" ( I'oir) toan actively ellncen tra led and sharply focused "watching" (regarder ) [see Poppe 1979).) It is worth repeating that without this basie decoupage and selection carried llll l by their attention, the spcctators would not be in a position to \York out t hl'ir ~JWn "reading" slrategies for the perfo rmance, nor to gi ve it first a local and lhcn , gradllall y, a global mea nin g. The Belgian scholar Carlos Tindemans is thcrcl"mc not c,< aggl! rali ng whcn he isolates this atten tion as the lrue " gcn ~nllo r 01" co!lcn:llcc" ¡TI ¡"l' l!tca ln: Ilre nécessary premise to any "coheren t IIll derslamJing." 1,1" lit,' Ill' IIIIIIII,IIIn' h:,1 (I')R4). 11 11 1/
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h u t h~atl~ prm: lll 11 1111'1 N 11 11 Ih iNIS wcll-k l10WI1 i1lld a lw:t ys has "CCII . EITllrls haw al wa ys hec II dm;¡;led ;11 :;\!u ing oul WhUI (j101()wski I.:a lls "an ilinc ra ry ¡'or lhe specla lor' s allent iOI1 ." It is lhe same lask wh ich . in c in ~m
Determ;tUJlltleatures 01 the ,'1pectator's tlftention A t th is poin t we must examine how the d irecto r and actors work upon the ¡¡Ilenlinn of lhe spectator. In more cxaet terms. we m ust ask wh at a re the determinant features ofthis selecti ve atlenlion which is, and always has been. slIbjcct to manipulation by the producers of theatre. At the same time. il should bc clear lhat it is not only a question of altracling tbe spectator's altenlion towards one thing but abo of disl /'acling it from something else. I"or the most part, these two modes of manipulation coexist and are largely inlerdependen t- often it is necessary to distraut Lhe specta tor's atten tioD rrom Qne thi ng in order to be able to a ttraul il toward s another thing. From Ihe receiver' s point of view, lhese modes can be labeled in more tcchnical lerms: focalization , defoea lization , and refoealiz ati on. 110111 fhe spectator's attention is aftracted
A 11 01' LIS are fami lia r with the number of resources and lhe occasional sleight ,)(" hand whieh theatre praetitioners have alwa ys used in o rdel" to distraet :ll1d/or altract the speetator's attention. In the 16th century. for example, noises UI slIdden trumpet bl as ts rrom the baek of the alldi torium di stracled th e ;lI uJ ic llce rl"om the stage where the scenery would be changed in full vi ew in a Il\a lkr nI" seeonds. I1ere the lighting, the design , and the spat ia l layout are ,))¡viollsly important. On a more generallevel. however, lhe performa lll.:e lex l 111 cdisposes and directs the spectator's attcntion by establishing a more o r k:ss l:x pliuit ranking of aH its partial texts- the spoken text, lhe gest llra l texl. I hl: scencry. music, sound cffcets, etc. Sueh a hierarch y may be brought into dTccl in two basic I"orm s:
1. As a stable hicra rchy which . broadl y spcaking, uonfonns to "rules 01' genre," lhe mo:\t obvi ous cxa m ple being the p rivileged sta l us ot" lhe verbal texl in lhe Wcstern Iheé:Llrical lradition. As a shirting hiera rc hy wherc a wh ole ran ge 01' rocalizing and/or d \! 1" 1l:ali;:ing tlcviccs o pera les wilhin lhe o ne pe rro rrnanc~. a la rgc po rt ioll nf I hes!.: d cv ic~ bcing Ul e sccnic. lighl lllg, anu ..o und crTccls jusI mell I i( lIled. Ilmlol1blcJly lile dassic c.:x; 1111 plc hen: h IIP\!f:I, whel'e. a l IH1e lime,
.,
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it i~ . he vocal pa r! (; 11 ¡tI ICI.'II .I IIVC ) whidl C(l fll C-; lo IIH: I"\llt: a11l1, al anullter , the 1l1 11siGtl par!. Ihl' I d ati~HlsJ¡ip helwccn Ihe parts remai ning invcrsely prnpür lio nal and, as wa~ slIgj!.cstcd lon g ago by Abraham Moles, ch arac lcrislie 01' lhe functioning 01" " multiple messages" ( 1958). WI,of attract.\ fIle spectotor's uftentiQn
The performance engages an entire repe rtory of signals an d devices by which il att racts and/or distracts the speetator's attenti on- this is the how of attrae tio n and/or distraction. The next question, and it is a eomplex ooe, concerns lhe reaso ns why these performance devices ,u'e able to direct attent ion. Fo r some cases, the answe r is obvi o LIS and the q uesuo n itself appea r.> simple - as in the case of an actor who is spotlighted downstage. o r the previous example of sud deo noises diverting attention to wherever they come ['romo But nol all cases are th is simple. H may help to refo rmul ate Our queslion in more p recise terms, first dividing it into two parts : l . What sort of material eharacterislies (qualities sensible to pereeption) m ust lheatrical actions and signs, 01" signals, possess in o rder lO a ttraet attentio n? 2. W hat eharacterist ics must appear in the eomposition or " montage" of these actions and signs in order to p roduce the same desired result? There is stiU no seientific literat ure on this matter applicable to the thea tre. but 1 wi ll point out one or t\Vo excep lion s here. Fortunately, more a dvanced work has been going on in studies of the psychology of pereeption and in the new, partiall y related field of experimental aesthel ics. Th is new field studies aesthetie behavior as a highly developed form of "exploratory behavior," under whieh heading psychologists place "multiple activities all serving to provoke, prolong, and intensiry the exposure of the sensory organs to a net work ofstimuli whieh are neither intrinsically beneficia.l nor harmful " (Berlyne 1972: 141). Of particular interest is Daniel Berlyne's researeh into the "eoll ative properties " 01' these stimuli- those properties wh ich ean be shown to have a p recise effect on the subjeet's "exploratory beha vior" and , speeifie ally , on the workings of their seleetive attention . During a lengthy series of expelimeotal studies, Be rl yne managed to isolate the followin g eollative properties (or variables): novelty, surprise, complexi ty. and oddity (1960, 1972, 1974, a nd 1976). Berlyne's results serve , in their o wn way , to confirm ma ny earlier hYPolheses concerningjust these sorts ofproblcms as they have appeared in many different arcas of study. Sorne ready examples are the eoneept of "dis.tanciati an" propo~ed by the Russian Formalists, the efforts of Gestalt psychology lo show tite r~l ali ons between o rder, disorder, and complexity, a ntl 1ht! finJ ing:-: 0 1" in lúnna Iion Ihcory rega rd ing eh a rdcteristies of the aesthetic tnl.:ssagc. AJJin¡,l. tu I lIl'';l' Bc rl ym:'s rcsul ts serve lO co rro bo rate sorne of the mosl rcccnl slll',..C"ili , ),, ~ w l1 k ll Iid YC eme rged in co nnecli on with the lheatre. )t)
I)I( \ 1\1 J\'I'IIIU ;V 111 , ' rlll ~, SI' I I
I fl \:~\' :i 1 1!·¡~.,"'\lIllllS I llI Vl l'll l ll l' ' I UIII 'W~t dilh': I \ '1 11 J1i1 lh .. 111 II1q uiry . blllh u r which 1:1I1 ael nss scve l:1I di sdplil ll':-' , bUI wilh Jrl kl ¡ti!! 1111.: 1flod s an d t)h jl.:C l iw s, NI.:Wrllldcss, Ih es\: IWl) "rprotllhcs meel a l a poill l where they mus l hol ll uctll wiLh Ihe l11C\.:ha nisl11s uscu in the Iheatre to p rime the S~ l atnr's allcllli o n. T he first a pproach has been followed by él D utch lea m of thcatre rcsea rchcrs ¡In d psychologists d uring a series of empirica l stud ies in to per rorma nce recept io n (sec Schocnmakers 1982, Tan 1982, Schoenma kc rs ami Ta n 1984). The second ap proach appea rs in lhe work going on under lhe directio n of Eugenio Barba al lhe lnternatio nal Sc.:hoo l o r Tbeatre Anlh ro po logy (f STA). So far. lSTA has held ro ur sessions (Bonn 1980. Voltena 1981 , Paris 19S5. a nd Holstebro 1986) and of particular interest has been lhe rcsearch in lo the lechniq ues of the actor in whic h Barba has led an internationa l tcachi ng unit (see Barba 198 1. 1983a, 1983b, 1985). Consideri ng the same problem from opposite sides, these two paths have con verged significantly on several points. The spectator's attention a ppea rs lo be the product of a certain type of psychophysiological disposition which. in the appro priate scientific litera ture, goes under various names: aro usa l. excitation, curiosity, interest, etc. Among other things, this disposit ion is sig nalleu by several neu roph ysiological aetivi ties, such as characteristic changes in electroencephalogram levels (EEG), sweal ing, changes in heartbeat, m us cular tension . pupil dilation , etc. This state lead ing up to the actual focusing 01' attention can be termed a " sta te of interest." In turn , this state of interest secl11s lo be aroused by another, more basic psyehophysio logieaJ state wh ich l11ily be called surprise or amazement. Thus we ha ve the sequence: surprise ~ interest ~ attention (with lhe obvio us possibility o l' feedback) Pllll ing it simply, this amounts to saying that in order to attract and direct lhe spCl'la lOr 's attention , the perform ance must nrst rnanage to surprise or amaze; I ha l is, lhe performance must put into effect disruptive or manipu/atil'(! slr(lI ' ·g il '.I' which will unsettlc the spectator's expectations - both short and long 1\!11 11 and , in particular, her/his perceptive ha bits. An d the performance I1111S1 do this by introducing Berl yne's " colJati ve properties"- e!cments o f IHl vclly, im probability, and odd ity- in areas where Ihe spectator habitua lly fl'l'!S certain of her/himscJl". Extra-ol'dittul'Y teclmiqlles (JI the actor
In l!leir research into theatre anthropo logy. Barba a nd hi s team a t (STA ha w iJ entifit:J lhese "Jisruptive stratcgics" largely in terms 01' the fundam ental led lll it) ues (Ir the ¡¡dor. Thcy ha ve descri bed thcse techn iqucs as "ex t nt~ ordina ry " or ''¡;xtra-dai ly.'' sincc [hey are based prima rily 0 11 l he Ira nsgrcs silln \ ) f lhe hi olngicuJ unu physicul Ia ws gtwem ing (lllr "nonna)" evcryday
10
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lllldi ly ¡¡lid 1I I1'l1 la llw ll ,I\ II 'J I hl' flllld: III1l:111J I laws 01 gra vity , incrlia, and tl H: rule ü rlc:l sl dloll t\l~l " d ul l' lo Barba , Ihe roll owing thcatrical principIes :l 1J Iransgl\!Ss Ihl.'~l' la ws :1 1111 fl ll ll l Ihc ba :¡is- bolh inlercultural and pre c.xp ressivc (lf pcrlú nl\cr's lcchniques: 1. T he princip!c or " a ltered bal ance" (01' " ultra-tuned " balance); T he princi pIe of " o pposition" (for the ador, evcry impul se m ust a lways be met by a eoun ter-impul se); The princi pie of " simplification" (" the om issi on o f some elemenls in order to promote ot her elements whieh thus appcar essential "); 4. The principIe of " surplus energy" ("a maximum of cnergy input for a minimum erfeCI").1
It is p recise)y through the work ings of these extra-ordinary techniq ues that Ihe actor is able to "disrupt " the ex pectations and perceptive habils of the spectators, to surprise them a nd draw their a ttention . And thi::; takes place L~\'en before the performer seeks to attraet the spectator with thc wondcr of a story, or a mauner of delivery: it takes place simply with the pcrforme r "giving shape" to her/ hi s own body- makin g a ·'fictitious. " " artificial " body which draws out/deforms/amplifies the normal tensions of the human bod y. We might consider this pre-expressive level of extraordinary tcchniques as the foundation on which lhe perforrner builds performancc. T here are, of ~ourse , man y other sourees for this: on one hamL the relevant socio-cultural ~ontex t. tbe tech njcal and expressive conventions of lhe actor's art: on t he olher, lhe perform er's own personality and talent. Ne vertheless, for the perl'ormer, just as for eve ryone else, nothing good is built except on so lid lúundati o ns. Thus, it is at this pre-expressive level that the actor di spla ys an ability (or lack thereor) as a mailre du regard; that is, a relative capacity ror carrying out the manipulation (mol1taggio in Barba's terms) of the spec lator's attention which is neccssa ry to a successful working of lhe theatrical rdationship . But as Richard Schechner (1986) s uggests. even ord in ary behavior, if properl y framed , can be theatrical ; e.g., ped eslrian movemcnt in dance anu natu rali stic, d ocumentary, or news film/ T V. What makes su eh things "theatrical" a re their ed itin g and framing, devices which belong solely to the director. ehoreographer, or editor. In such cases the extra-ordinary does not Ikpend on the perforll1er (who may even be a no n-actor doing ordinal"]! Ihings) bul rather on the ways performers' actions a re "t reated."
Conclusions
My co ncl uJing rcmarks I"o ll ow l)n from thi s di se ussion 01' the fonnal means II l1d ~h.:lerlllillallt
cl,ndi llOlI s in vo lved in Ihe
, 11
~pectato r 's
selC\.:tive attention .
1111'
I!'x II"II-m'//itrttry '('dllliqll/!,\" " " ¡I'It//I,HI" "''''mil/IIt',\
A w ry i I11cn:s t i ll ~ para lld l)J"csl~ nLs il!iclf bc twccn B¡u na's vi¡;w 01' t he J ia bd wec ll ord inary nnd cxtra-oróina ry te~hni qu cs. ami the com:lusi o n ~ nI' experimcn tal acsthclics. T hcsc concl usions arguc that "sorne 01' the efTecls bro llght OH by new slill1uli [ ... ] óo nOl achieve maximum strcngl h wil h a Illaxi m um 01' novdty," but ralhe r with "a n interrnedi ate level 01' novclty" ( Berlyne 1960: 64). In relation Lo the techniq lles 01' acro bats ami th ose some times lJseu in l3eijing opera , Barba has similarly observed that in such cases "i t is no longer a ma lter 01' cxtra-ordina ry tcchn iques but simply onc of'o ther Icch niq ues.·" In these other techniques. "there is no longer the tellsion ca used hy a deviatio n from the norm, nor the so rt of 'elastic energy ' which c haractcr izes cxt ra-ordinary techniq ucs in opposition to ordinary ones , In othe r wo n.! s. it is no longer a matter 01' d ialeetical rel alionship but only al' distance: l he inacccssibility. in short, which the body ofa 'ViTlUOSO' pcrfo mler represen ts" (1981: 73). Tbese observations are corroborated by the reslllts ofexperiments on vi sua l perception whicb show, as I mentioned, that "cllIsters 01' slimuli a re judged more favorably when they fall wi thin an intermed iate scal e of novelty and complexity" (Bcrlyne 1972: 148). Tl1ese observations form a n excellent starting point fo r more detailed a na lysi s o f the q ualities particular to theatr ical attcntion and , I would add. to artis tic attention in general. It is a iso the bélSis for Bnalysis 01' th ose stimuli which are most eapable of arousing atten tion in the theatre precisely by playing upon the d ia1ectic of novc1/kn own. strange/familiar, complex/si mple, unexpected/predictab le, o dd/consistent. Icdi~
Disrupthe features "of" the perfonnance/disruptive features "within" tbe performance In ddining the actor's techniques as extra-ordina r)', Barba insists on the way thq "d isrupt" the speetato r by opposing- though it is a d ialectical , "elastic" (lpposition- tbe techniques used in everyday life. However, it is clear that a performance can disru pl o r frustrate expectations, prod ucing effects of sur prise and increased attention. in many other ways amI on many dilTerent Icvels. The disruptive fe atures oI lhe performance also appear on lhe level 01' gcneral theatrieal expecta tions. Here, the disruption no longer arises in the opposition of t heatre to everyday life but rather in th e o pposition 01' the performance to theat re. One example 01' th is wo uld be a work break ing the conventio ns 01' d ram atie fiction long since parl of the a.verage a ll d icm;~ Illul11bcr's com petence. On this level of speci fic ihealrical expectations, OI1t: mi ght thin k ofthe opera b ufT who turns up at Pete r Brook's Carmen cxped ing to ~ce an authentic staging 01' lhe Bizct worle This list u f d i:;ruptive featul'es cOllld easi ly be extenúcd, beuring in minJ c,xpcCluli olls having lO do wil h lhe con t\!xt of lhe perfo rmance, lhe preccd· cnts sel by Ihe vUlillllS pmd\ll:crs nI' the performance, el\:, I hlwevcl, whal I
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wish to Ilw kc de,1I ¡., 111. 11 ,d,'III"> tlll.' Iltl'' ;1.' disrllpti vc l'ent ll res o/the pcr l'oml ance are tlw ~e OCC lI 11Í111', I!'i /lltll the pcr l'lll ma nce, and these la lter ma y well be mOfe impMlant alld dl.'ó:-'I\!l: in tClIl lS 01' (h e srectator 's atten tion. By disrup tion lVi/h in lhe perform allce. I mean that the abilily 01' the perfo rma nce lo hold and direct the spcctator's atlention is also due lO its abili ly to con tin u ally create cxpectati ons on the most dive rse leve1 s, fmm the thematic to the cxpressive and stylistic, and th cn to continually fr ust rate and di STupt these expectations by sudden lea ps , rapid ehan ges 01' directio n. tone, a tmos ph ere, rhythm , etc. In Lhis way, surprise is constantly renewed, and in leresl and attention Temain li vely and strong. And il is in primarily th ~ d irecti on that the \York of the director. not to mentÍJ.:>I1 that of the dramaturg, is aimed.
Frustt'ationlsatisfiLCt;()n
DI expectatiolls
" In my opi nion. there are two aspects to the enjoyment which thea tre can give: surpri se and the jo)' of finding the same thing over again ." T his recent dec1aration by Itali a n director Luca Ro nco ni serves as a useful reminder of a risk which is undou btedly present in a certain way 01' handling the ques tio n of attention in the theat re. This is the risk of maintaining that the " pro per" functioning 01' the perfo rm ance . its SlJecess and pull on lhe a udicncc. depend exclusively on the disruptive strategies it uses. In short, the risk is in seeing only the irregula r and unex pected as bein g able to produ ce interest anó e nte r tainment in the theatre. C ertainly, for cxample. Barba' s theorie!:i regarding the extra-ord inary, despite their obvious importance, come at times dangero usly close to just such a view and betray links with certaÍll outdated avant~ga rde poetics. More in keeping with the facts as they stand , anO more important from a theoretical viewpoint, seems to be an acceptance that thealrical pleasure arises and is rn aintained in an unbroken dialectic bet\Veen the frustration and satisfaction of expectations. The fragile balance is kept between the pleasure 01' discovery , the unexpected. and the un usual , on one hand , and the pleasurc ofrecogni lion, deja vu, and the anticipated on the other. T o upset this balance in either d irection means threatening the Sllccess of the complex commun icative in teraction which eonstitutes the ver y Jife 01' theatrical performance.
Note For more detailed information regarding thcsc principIes. see Barba 198 1. 198:1<1. 198:1b, 1985 and De Ma rinis 1986.
References Ila rba, ¡':ugc lli\l I')~ l . 1(/
I'¡¡ r.lll
1': llllal l; lI lLtil>h Ir:.l Il ,; I;II IOIII 111
¡/I'i i'illI'I'ari. I1I1,roj1o/l)¡;i({
/lit' /) rllll/II U C'I'iclI' 26.
~n
,ea/ra/e, Mi lan: Feltrinclli . 2 (T9:1).
no .
11I{ , M ¡\ 11 1l{ f ; \' I 11' " " 11 S I' l Je ' I 1\1 () R
I\ I HI II I N ( : US / ~I" ¡ f"I /\'f'on S " , I '
1')!Cb, " 0 1allllllat urg ia " 111
,,1/llIlo//l1!I
ti'"
I"tll m ,
edill:d hy N. S óIva f'l;sc, 4:1 ,:le),
(.'l ufI) l1cc: La C asa Us hc r. - - 1983b, "M ontaggio, " In Alla lo/l/ill del T('alro, ediled by N, Savarese, 11 5 222, Florence: La C asa Ushc r. - - 1985, " El cue r po d il ata do," Pape r read at the inte mational congress of lhe Instituto del T eatro, Barcelona, 19- 25 March, Ba rthes, Roland 1964, "Littera t ure et signification. " In Essais Criliques , Paris: Seuil. Berlyne , Daniel E. 1960, Con(lic/, ArouS(l1 (I/UI Curiosily. N ew Y ork: McOra w- H ill. - - 1974, S/udies il1 NeHi Experimenlal Aeslhelics, New York : W iley & Son s, - - 1976, "L'estetica sperirnentale, " In Prospellil'e dellapsicologia, edited by p, C. Dodwell, 123 - 149. R utin: Borillghieri, Originally published in N ew Ho rizons in Psychology 2, N cw York: Pe nguin Boo ks, 1972, Berly ne, Daniel E., and Jo yee Oit kofsk y 1976. " E ffects of N ovelty and O d d ily on Visual Selective Attention, " Brilish Juum(/I (J/ Psyd/Ology 67, no, 2: 175, 180, Oe' Ma rinis , Ma l'eo 19SI. " Vers une pragrnatique de la cornmunication teatrale," Versus 30: 71- 86, - - 1982. Semio/ic{/ del lealro, Milan: Bornpiani, - - 1983, "Theatrical Cornprehension: A Socio-serniotic Approach," Theat er 15. no, 1 (Winter): 8- 15, - - 1984, "L'espcricnza dello spettatore: fondarnenti per una semiotica della ricczione leatrale, " I n Documenlidi lavoro. 13S- 139, Centro di Serniot iea e Linguistica di Urbino, - - 1985, "Toward a Cognitive Serniotie of Theatriea l Elllotions," Vers us 41: 5- 20, - 1986, " 11 corpo artilkiale: biologia e cultura nell'arte dell 'atore ," Pro/11eteo 4, no, 14: 48- 55, 1987, /1 NI/ovo Teatro ( 1947 1970). Milan: Bornpiani, F (A.), U mberto 1979, Lec/o,. in fahula, Milan: BOlllpiani, English ed ition , The Role of ,he Reader, Bloornington: Indiana U niversi ty P ress, 1979, G hos h, Manornohan, ed, and tTans, 1967 , The N a /yas{/s/ra, Cakutla: Manisha G ranthalaya, l rl! illlaS, Algirdas J" and .1, H , Courtes 1979, Semiolique: D iuionl1aire raiSOl1l1e de la tll('oric rlu lal/gage, Paris: Hachette, (iro towski, .Icrzy 1986, " 11 regista come spettatore di professione," Tea/m Festival 3: 2H 16, Moll;s , Abrahalll 1958, Thcorie de I'injimlU/lirJII el percepliol1 eSlhe/ilfu!', Pa.ris: I :Iallllll"rion, POPPl!, bnile 1979, "Anal yse scmiotique de I\;space spetawlaire," Unpublished m¡1I \lI~c ri pI. R 1I1'1il1i , F ranco 1985, "Tcsto/scel1a: dralllrnaturgia de llo spettacolo c dcllo spettalore." 1'('1'.1'1/.1' 41: 21 -40, Schechl1cr, Richard 1973, Emiroll/1lenlal Thealre, New Yor k: H awthorn Books, 1984, La leorias de ffll per/órnwl1ce, 1970 1983, R omt:: Ilul w ni. 1,)S6. Pt:rsonal cOfllm ul1icatiol1, 21 26 A ugust. S¡; llIw'"IJakL'rs , I ler,ry 1982, "1'he Tacit Majority in t he T h ealrc ," 111 Mlllliuwdi
.,. \·1
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hl 1'):-\2, " ( ''' )' IIII !h' I'lrl" ~~ ... ' ", Rl'C~'I ' li \l I\ ." 11\ Stw li"lic.l' 'l /)/'(/1//11 IIIIlI cd i¡cd hy I 1 SI 111111.1 :11111 ,\ Vill l Kc:st,rclI, 156 203, Amstcrdam ,\lId
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In a~':\ '1I1l 1 In. Ih \ I ~\' VIl . I\HIS rnr ms ofthc(ltrical plcas urc. S il1(;c I placcd this att Clll pl lIu dl."l I he :i q!,is ()f Brecht, Id me begin with what. in plcasure, is d oscslto int dk:ctual rcllcction, wh at is perhaps, at the same time, t he mosl sem iotic of a ll p1casures - the pleasure of the sign o
35 T HE P LE ASURE OF
T HE SPECTATOR 1
A rew preJiminaries
Anne Ubersfeld Sn un:c: Transla ted by I'icrl"l) BO llillag llct and C harl es .fo ~c , Mudan Drama 25(1) (19~2): 127 IN.
11 fa ut dire que e'est une caractéristique des moyens théatraux q ue de tra.nsmettre des conn aissances et des impul sions sous forme de jouissances; la pro fondellr d e la eonnaissanee et de I'i mpulsion correspond á la profondclIr de la j ouissance. 2 B recht Brcl: ht's optlmlsm: fol' him, pleasure and knowledge go hand in hand ; knowing and enjoying are b ut one.. .. He uses the word pleasure, but hc also, impudently, refers to sensual pleasure [jouissance], which means mueh Il l\lrc. O ne can say almost anything about the specta tor's pleasure, and the most l'olltradictory formulas can appea r valid: the pleasure of liking and of di slik ¡lIg: the pleasure of understanding and o f not understand ing; the pl eas ure 01' maintaining a n in tel lect ual distance a nd o f bcing carried away by o ne's ~ m()t ions; the pleasure 01' foll owing él story ("a nd what happens next?" thc ch ild asks) and oflooking at a ta blea u: the pleas ure o fl au ghing and o f l:ryiJl g; the pleas lIre 01' dream ing and of knowin g; t he pleasu re 01' enjoying o nesell" a nt! of suffering: t he ple'ds urt of dcsirin g and of being pro tecled from pas siolls.... Q ne ca n co nt inue forever thi s little ga me of o ppositio ns. 1\11 throllgh the systern ofsigns of lhe representat ion, one can traek d ow ll t hca tri\.:a l plea:;ure: it is sca rtered all over, it is never a bscn t. Pro tcan , o bSlin at~, IlIr king. it l: \,1" lile pcr IIIlIl1ao\.:c is pcrhap:; II nrcasonablc: pcrhar>:-. plcasurc \.:an \.:\llIsidcrcd as lilllllclhing Iha l ca Ol Il H be mil dc tk (Ihjcí.·1 \11' ra li\ll1 al illll ll y~is I sll:d l I.y,
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a) Theatrical pleasure is no t a solitary pleasure, but is reftected 00 and re ver berates through otheTS; it spreads like a train of gunpowder or suddenly congeals. T hc spectator emits barely perceptible SigllS of pleasure as welJ as loud la lIghter and secre t tears - thei r contagioLlsness isnecessa.ry fo r every one's pleasurc. One does not go alone to the theatre .~ one is less happy when alooe . b) Theatrical pleasure is multiform; it is made up of all kinds of plea. sures, sometimes contradictory o nes. Il varies with the fo rms of theatrica lity. I t cannot be red uced to a univocal notion - tbe more so as, by nature, it is twofold: it is th e pleasure of an absence being summoned IIp (the narrati ve, the fiction, elsewhere); and it is the pleasure of contempl ating a stage real ity experienced as concrete activity in which the spectator takes pa rt. Sometimes there is an indissolllble link between these two kinds of pleasures: sometimes. according to the forms of representation, they are distinet, separate. W het her it is the pleasure of looking at a sealed-down reaJity or an emotional stim ulus, it oseillates between the experience of an absence and the play with a presence . e) Corollary: the pleasure ofthe audience is never pure, passive reception; it is related to an activity, a series of activities (wh ose complexity we ha ve already seen) in which, to a degree, it invests itself. d) The pleasure of the audience can be found in opaque signs (those which are resistant to meaning) as well as in those whose traospa rency refers to an obvious meaning and /or to an obvious referent.
Thc fable: a prcliminary In the beginn ing \Vas the fable. We should have to go baek too far if we tried to justify the pleasure oflistening to a story. lhe pleasure that any story-tellers as well as Racine, Shakespeare, or Genet givc their alldiences. Pleasure ofthe diachrony of nevcr-heard stories in whieh suspense is at the root of pleasure. Pleasure of the re petition of well-kno\V1l stories, similar to the pleasure experi enced by a c hi ld who, ro r the twentieth time , asks for a story that he knows by heart bui wht)se 1l1 0S1 m inute octails must be rcspected. T he very plcasurc M!la rra (ive is no more él sim ple p leasu re than tbe "simple I"ornt s" nI' Jil eralll lc II IC silllpk. Ihillllu tic narr(lUvcs invol ve " maki ng live rél1n!Sé lll ali~)Jl !'i nI' ICpUI k d iII !l lvcll led h a rre l1 in~s betwecn huma n beings a nd doi11 g so willl : 1 "H'W 111 I I! It' ll il if1l11cn l. " \ N nt h i ll ~ is said 01" [he r\:!asolls
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!" lr 111I'. ~nrc.:Il:l \lll m·lIl , W lly d u 11I c.:"~· " ('l·p l\l dll ~t HII I .. .,1 t hl'l' nJ lllllllllallil'i: 111 mell " givc pk"' "1 e 1':1 t hcr 1ha ll :-;\!~I II li kc Ihe lcdi llUS ,cpdi t jl l ll ~ 01' wlw t cx isls (amI wh ieh . by lile very I'a¡;t \11' ils cx¡sl cn n.~ . iti cnJowcd wi lh ti more cm incn t J ignil y )? Br.;ehl dücs IW I Id l U~, a nd we can ó nl y co njeclure aboul th e reasons rol' lh is p1casure specific lo Ihe narl'ati ve fo rm : to see. in sare ly, prescntcd lhrough si mple word s or nal imuges, what could prod uce anxiet y 0 1' uangc r ous dcsire is a kin lO "Fre ud iall " pleasure. In the story of"Tom T hwnb: ' all children ha ve lakcn delighl in lhe fearful a nd breath-taking possi bility 01' 4 being aba nooncd by th eir parcnls . At the other end of the chain, we can :)ce (and Brecht does not fa il to do so) in the " reprodllctions" of these easily managed . scaleu-down models. a safc and qllick way to observe the productive mcchan ism of h um an events.5 BU I this is going m uch further tha n the si mple pleasure o f story-te Uing. The pleasure 01' narrative is not specifical ly theatrical ; to read a fa ble. a short story, to hear a detec tive story on the radio, etc.. .. give lhe samc pleasure as t he d ram atic narrative. 11' one went through the li s1 al' pl ea:)ure~ contained in the thealTical performance, o ne would find a large num ber t ha( are not, properly speaking, theatrical , pertaining as they do to the fieli on and not to the stage: plt.:asure 01' the narrative, of 1he story-teller and of the story, pleasure of the miming as well, of the imitatíon 01' a human being a nd 01' an action - a plcasure that has already been theatriea lized , even with in the boundaries of daily life. Here we come close to this kinu 01' spontancous theatricality (of a socialnature, obviously) whieh is that 01' evcryday Iifc am.I 01' human relationships, mim ing anu relating dail y oecurrenccs; as we shall see , their pleasure tlows back in to the theatrical performance. The p1easure of human speech - its contagious charm can be experienced in " life. " on the politica) platform , on the radio. or cven on the telcph onc. Theatre is not necessa ry for this pleasure to be experienced and enjoyed. but on the other hand , isolating it from the theatrical representation does no perhaps make much sense sinee, tho ugh it exists c1sewhere , it is neverthel css pa rt of the representation . The sum of all these various pleasures that thea tre alone cnables us to experience toget her constitutes, in itsc1 f, a kind 01' speeificily.
Pleasurc oí' the sigo Thcatrical pleasurc. properly speaking, is the pleasure of the sign; it is the Illost semiotic of all pIca sures. What is a sign, if not what replaces an objcct rür someone under certain cin;umstances? Surrogate sign , a presonce whkh slands for an absence: the sign for a god, the spool 01' thread for the mother, the sta ge rol' an abscnl " rca lity." Theatre as sign or a gap- bei ng-fi llcd . 1I would 11 0t be going too t~lI' 10 say thal the ac1 of filli ng the gap is lh e vCly so urcc 01' thca t ricu l plcasu rc. Memory anJ utopia. desi rc anu reOlell1braru:c. cvcryl hing lhal SUllllIH')n:-. IIp :l n .lbsl!ncc is, in nH.: I. fcrl ile gro und 1'1.)1' lllca lr ic
111 11 ,, 1'111 1" IIII{
1'!4'U"UH' .. t imitalion Wlle n l'nc IS spl:ak ill!' lI t IflC:tll ll'ul plcas lIre, il is, perhaps. necessary to avoid alty kiltd lIt' ICIT\lri~l1l . NI )wada ys lhe pka:; ure 01' mimesis has abad press , b ul il t!Des ex isl , nevc rth cl c~s . Wc all reel it, though we bl ush to admit it. Il is a plcasure thal is remarkably powerful and honourable; it is based 011 the dcsire lo see lhe \Vorld imitaled thro ugh lhe Jimited resources o f human craftsma n ship: 1'01' example, to imitate nat ure, volcanic eruptions o r ocean wavcs; to illlitale society, the ceremo nies aecessible onIy to the rich and the powcrfu l (a l:Ourt ball) . It is simply a question 01' enjoying the ingen ui ty of man competing with rea lity . and so much t he better ir the rose is nol rea l but vclvet. an d the chieken made of cardboard. Sham objeets are man-made, an d the p leasure 01' imitating lies in lhe fact tbat these objects are as wcll-made and some limes even bette r-made than real o bjects. It may be a childish pleasure, but no (lile is immune to it. The most " in" of our stage-directors and set -desi gners ,~hamelessly show us the superb effeets 01' the sun rising 01' setting o ver the Illountains , or the twinkling lights of New York, and soph isticated a ud ience:; cann o t repress a cry of admirat ion , just as children used to do at the late lamented ChiHe1et T heatrc. This p1easure of imitation is also the pleasure 01' images, and we do not get one without the other. It may make you smile, but, in lhe best of cases, the staging of a play reveals lhat lhis mimetic reproduction is not the result or magic, that it is pleasing in two ways , sinee it is the reslIlt of a human practice which can be and is rcproduced. It is pe rhaps in mimesis itself that ll1agic theatre and scaled down theatre join each other. The pleasure 01' the audience oscillates between these t\Vo attitudes: a fascination wilh magic recreation and the observation nI' a praetice of imitation . Pleasure in the one case as in the o ther lies in t he observalio n 01' a sign 01' a system of signs which has been necessarily isolated: as \Ve have seen , theatre does not imitate evcrything; it focuses on one isolated construction.
Reflection 00 the sign a ) Plea.~III·e ofseein¡.(, pleasu/'e of!Jea";,,/: 1 shal1 not lin ger on the p1easure of pure speetacle. pleas ure 0 1' tbe beauty of colours. costumes, bodies , or on emotions stirred by music; lh ese are pleas mes which pcrtain to every kind or spectade , includin g cinema. ) shal1 , Illlwcver. add this not unimportant restriction: in the theatre, when the spcctator rocuses on a sign , it is not because he has been preparing to do so: Ihis rocusing is lhe rcsult 01' the spectalo r's own perception at every moment lll' the pe l fonn ullcc. This pl'rccpti ve operation add s to the pleasure of t he ill HlgC . The tablcal l is 111 )1 " iwn whu h.: (no bo dy ca n look at ul1 tbe signs in a si ngk gla nt.:\!); il i.; t.:llI1'llllll·lnl hi t hy hi L unu lhe spectator rcjoices in 1hi5
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work 01' Lit \! \!ye ,HIt! Ihe ear. I~ I his an ¡¡dLlcd pl t:a~ lIl e'l I'l ll hahly 1I0\. II is ral hcr a com ponenl 01' Ihe lhcaLric¡¡1 illla ge wlm:h i'i scilcJ o lll y bil by hit. As a m a tter 01' I~H;t. t heTe is 110 t ime LO wa ste: t he in w ge is :,nalcheo rrOI11 the torren l of si bTf1 s. stolcn from time; il is being do ne "nd undone al lhe same time, and the construction of the theatlica l image (a udio-vis ual) is an aero batic pleas ure. Making th is exciting pleasurc possible, letting aH kinds (,f images appea r, leaving the spectator wil h t he fce li ng lha t his p leas ure QI' seeing has not been exhausted, that a whole series of signs has not beell flll1 y ana lysed or real1 y seen, that he cOLlkl have looked elsewherc, rocuse<.! on something differc nl - do we not have here so me 01' lhe t! ist inctive traits 01' gooo staging'? It is the pleasure 01' lhe ephemeral and of lhe st ruggle agai n!:>1 the ephemeral. It is also possible to focLls on a paimillg in ma ny d irferenl ways; looking a l it "differently" and co nfrol1ting its
But IllClllMy I d~ r ~ /lp l ""I v 111 Ihe earl icr si gns (JI' (he fcprcscntatiun , but also lo thl' n:lc rcnt nfl h\! ~ 1 J..! n s pcrl:CiVl~d. In n th(!r words, signs refer to what corrc!:> J1onds lo t hcm in lhc cx pcrlcncc 01' the spectator. T hc fictional universe scl bcfÍJrc him sum lllons up the rererential universe al' the spectator, that 01' his personal as well as his cultural experience. tUhe spec lator cxclaims: "Lite is exactl y like that ," "T hat's exactly whall have seen and experienccd ," the performance is not just bringin g his memories in to play , but giving rise to a cry 01' joy, to lhe precise pleasure of recognizing as a trace what has been seen and experienced. So mething nol unJike P roustian sensual pleasure is always present in thea trical pleasure. If theatre ofrers uso as Brech t wo uld have it, m odels for unde rs tanding sociallife, and ir it is a t the same time a pleas urc, it is beca use (his summoning IIp of experi ence. this illum inating of lhe processes of social existence, is accompanied by the mental thrill tha t co mes fro m "recognizing" the past. Conve rsely. one might say that the bitter spectacle of destructive passions functions, for lhe spectator, with reference to his own experience of passions. Bere we tOllch upon anothcr mechanism of tbeatrical pleasure, tha t of repeti tion under safe conditions.
b) P/eQSure of"hl"icolage" TheatricaJ pcreeption. as we have seen , is a "hricolage" in the technical sense of the wo rd ; it is made up of b its and pieces; it builds for another use - tha of eacb spectator - a new ensemble with the pieces of the preceding one: a tableélu. the verbal exchange and the gestures of two aetors confronLing cach other, él lighting effect. Thc stage-director can only prepare the elements for possible combina tions: he cannol predetermine the combination itself, w hich is the work of each spectator. Thc spectator enjoys the specifically theatrical plcasure of doing " his own thing" wi th Ihe elements offered to him . The cinema-goer has less work to do beca use lhe image takes bim by the hand. so lo speak, and being alone in the dark , he has the rreedom to let his fa ncy roam. On the other hand, the theatre spectator, when constructing his o wn rcpresentation , experiences the uneasy plcasure of a perm a nent co nfro nta lion with the representation of the person sitting next to him.
e) PleaslII't! o/ memor)' It is clcar tha t the spectator's perccption is diachron ic as well as !SYI1l:hronic: il lak es into acco unt, as we have seen, the prcviolls e lements in the represe nta lion. The pleasure or memory is a n active pleasure as wcll as the n:cogniLi on 01' what has been recorded before. ThlO superimposing 01' lhe preced ing cle Ille nl on lhe new a ne makes él ncw con st.ruction possible, ando lherc .tgüin . lhe spcda lor tests how alert his intclligence is in Ihe Llt i1izal i\lI1 \lr an ¡¡gilc nH:mofy . RcclI lTcncc and diffe rence r cnni llhc in Lcrplay Mwh a l is " dNá 1'/(" ami whll l is ncw .
1'10
Tbe pleasure of understanding The spectator, by analysing the signs ofthe performa nce. can become lhe master of social and mental processes, and the pleasure he takes in that process is l he same o ne that is engendercd by any intellectual acti vi ty that succeeds: th e pleasure of understanding is always the pleasure not only of receiving but of doing. We must not think that \Ve are dealing here with a p leasure reserved for epic theatre, even if this type or theatre works deliberately towards and through the stim ulatíoll of this activity in the speetator. W hat the spectator can understa nd and take pleasurc in understandin g in a theatrical representa lion is no t a lways obvious, nor is it programmed in advance . It is precisely the analysis of signs , the semiotic functioning, which ena'bles the spectator to llnderstand the mechanisms at work in any particular form uf performance: it is interestin g to understand how a particular sign has a n ideol ogical effect and sheds Iight on a particular ideologicalmechanism both in the praetitioner and in the spectator. There is a semiotic stratcgy inherent in the read ing of a representation which enables the spcctator to understand the proeesses of a particular theatrical representa tion . As has been pointed out, the spectator llndcrgoes an education which enables him to experience an intelleclual plea surc, an "c pic" pleas ure , in a representation which clims at something elsc.
Thc pleasure of invention This bri\!!' sLl rvcy sh ,)w:,; Iha l t1H.:atrical pkasures are rarcly passive; "doin g" pl nys n Ia rge r milo 11111 11 " 1\:I·l'lv llIg." BUI o ue can go Llrl her. Until no\\!, in
',11
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In whu l L:llrr~s pllmb Illl'\,dcs Ihe \ ¡>cclalm k l\ \lw~. Hullhcalrc I S Ihe U I I o f in vl'n lio[] . l':vC Il lhe 111\)S\ t ta~li l i (l n a l ;l\:I(\f kn()ws lhal he must in vcut slgns Ihat wi ll crcate
i11 ~ula r as hc is lile ;llld l~'''''''t'~' "lllIt' pl,IY, will al\Va ys lilll.l a loclls whc re it is he \V ho J O\!S ;111\1 CXpl.· ll eI K"' ~, w h¡11 ,... pl\ lpOS<:J lo hil11 . r ile 11Iai n pwblcnl is 1\' k llllW wllom or wha t he identifics with . It i5 lradi IiOlla I tI) liay (¡¡lid u~(lrdil1 g lo Brecht this is the "A ristotelian" typc 01' identi Ikalil11l) that lhe man in lh e auJ iem;e idcntiflcs wilh the hero . and the woman wilh lhe heroine: "Tout Paris pour Chimene a les yeux J e Rodrigue. "6 it 1S plca~urable ro be a hero or a beautiful wom an; it is agreeabl e. for a time. to be a powerful tyra nt who disposes of his enemies. II is agreeable to experienee Ihrough another person , feeli ngs. passions, pain which, as chance wo uld h ave il . we have been spared in our day-to-day existence. Perhaps, and in spite 01' \Vhat Brecht says, it is better not to belittlc this type of pleasure, especíall y since it is quite pointless to preteno that it does not exist ami since !he epic Iheatre attempts nol to negate this proeess but rather to com pensate for it. Sincc the plcasure of critical distance counterbalances the pleasure 01' identi lication , the spectator, once Illore, moves back ano forth between the two. But the spectator can also identify not with the hero as such, bu t wü h a ccntra lizing conseiousness whieh is sometimes actualized in the hero himself hut sometimes in a secondary character or even in no one in particu lar. bein g instead a poi nt 01' view distributed among di fferent eb araeters. Sucb is the case in sorne "epic" staging where the spectator io entifies with a sort 01' dif ruse juogement. This centralizing consciousness can be that of the writer (and it was diffi cult to avoid the centralizing power of Sartre's plays) . Oue can always stage a text so as to give the spectator the pleasure offinoing himselfin the pl ace of lhe writer; this is a very strong temptat ion when one is dealing with a Iy rico poetic text where the writer's presenee is strongl y felt. The pleasure of identification with the pllppeteer [le mOl1lreur] (and this is the pleasure of the best "epic" performances). or \Vith the master ol' eerem onics in sorne modern form s of representations - this pleasure is more subt le fl>r bcing blended with the spectator's dream of creativity: it is he who creates and dirccts the produetion . Sometimes identification tra vel s from one eh a ractcr to another, from one figure lo another. One must keep in mind , when speakin g about the pleasure \)f ioentification with the hero , that thi s identification never takes place without Ilrst being an identification \Vith an actor. Spea king 01' this pleasure, \Ve should do wel! to remember also tha t it prcsupposes a ccrtain relationship with the practitioner(s). To the oegree th al watching is an active pleasure, the spectator also takes pleasure in being th practitioner (writer, director, master of ceremonies, actor).
" 1 is ano'her," or tbe plcasurc uf travcl
Plcasure in transgression
('lIll lraly lu H"cc! lI's vicws (1IwIIg,h \Ve are not rca ll y so far rrollllhose vicws), W\.' -:all pCIIt.t,,~ lóuy tha l lI ll' r~' is il lways S\1111C idt'nl iticlI llll lI ' Ilml I II ~ spl:cl:tlm.
Thca lrc j:-. Ihe 11I0~ 1 dfl'cl iyc in-;t rulTlcnt ror lransgression a. superb and (1\;lal ivc ly) silf\! ill:.1111I 11\" l1t It l'an , 11\Iwl!wr. be du ngero lls. élnd ll10ralists and
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pll li' lnans .. 1 nI! pc,,;u llsi tl ll~ haw I.II.k cu S!r{)W II i t to Iw la). '1 1Ie plca~ urc 01' lhe:r lrc is a IIHiugh l- pnJV(I" illg Ollc rOl' cach or us. Lrkc il ll y p lcLI.s u rc, iI has all ouour orsin a ho u l il: Yoycll risrn is nol a nice woro; ¡;alha l'sis is a more rcJi ncd OI1l~ . But. dearl y. sOlllclhing happens in theatre which satislles the sp.:clalo r whi lc é.t the same time leaving him ullsatisfied , someth ing in whieh plca:m rc am i oi~satisfaction are conjoineo. a) Ah.l'ence Clnd [he Pleasure o/the Signo W hcn F re ud observed él very young chilo playi ng with a spool of thread,7 he
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hCCi.lIlS4.: il as ,~. \ I y 11 '.II I I V 111" ((/ U I'fI SÍtIll ('hell/; o,.t/('): Ihe plcasu re 0 1' ,"illlesis (Lile sCükd ·dl.wlI I1H ,II.:I ) h lcllds wilh the rant a¡¡y 0 1' Lriumph. b) i IIl X i(' II'. "TCIIl11 ami pil y" according lo Arisiotlc: that the mechanism nI' leal' is inhcrcnt in l hcatrical pleasurc has never been denieo. Theatre shows cvcrylhing Ihe spectator fcars: incest, all-consuming passions, l1luroer, the vari o us forms of violcnt 01' nat ural deaths. AII lhis is shown , but after it has heen tamcd, put at a distance , veiled by a kind 01' negation . The p1easure 01' thcatre is havi ng the spectator toucb (but from a safe di stance) anyth ing he Icars, or feared as a child - the fear 01' dea th, for exa mple. But the dead, uldud ing historical figures from lhe past, are there on the stage; ano in an y case, when someone is killeo on the stage, he geb up afterwards: there can be, then , a death which is not a real oeath . VioJent death , exterlll ina tion, blino ty ran ny. torture, the situa tions of victím ano 01' executi oner are all sum moneo up an d kcpt at a oistance, and this "Illithrídatizing against death" is one ofthe powcrful roots 01' tragic p1easure. What one sees is the O th er who suffers, an d thefe is pleasurc in the fact that it is someone else; but there is pleasurc al so in rhe fact that it is not true. Perhaps the p1eaSllre of theatre is also the plcasure 01' believing ror olle minute tha t oeath is imagin ary. Here again theatre violates the laws of nature, ano this violatioll is not the least ofthe specLalo r's pl easures. Theatre summons IIp ano defuses another type 01' anxiely, that 01' huma n relations, of the relationship to the O ther who can destroy and consume me, a relationship to someon e else who is more powerful a110 stronger than 1: theatre is al so the plcasure 01" human rel a tionshjps revealed with all their oangers but sho wn at a distanee. Part of wh at can be calleo th e fascinated voyellrism of theatre alloiences comes from thi s mechanism 01' pleas ure: rhe tragic/comic pleasure ofthe domestic quarrcl is an examp1e ofi t, on a reouceo scalc. But the pleasure ofsceing human relations in their most conflictivc and passionate forms, while one is fcelíng quite protected oneself (protecteo but concerneo) a no knows full well that no real blood will be sheo - this is Ihe pleasure at the centre of bourgeois theatre, but also, in the broaoest sense, at the centre of all theatre. H ence , the laughter elicited by any kind 01' defuseo conflict, a feeling of relief, economy of energy, as Frelld says. When tension remains ve ry high , when death a.no comedy, violence and ocrision , anxiety and its rcsolution are present at the same time because 01' inner and simu1taneous contraoictions or beca use 01' a constant shifting between them , one has the very oistinctive pleasure of the grotesque which Bakhtin has a nalysco so well in his book 011 Rabelais. 1o The skilful portrayer of the grotcsque is the one who knows how to project simllltaneously the sigas of dangcr ano of derision. The pleasure 01' the spectator is. then , the reslllt of a sometimes painful tcn sion . c) The Impossih/e . lf Iheatrical pleasure is, as we have seen, the kinetic pleusure 01' llloti()JJ . M graspi ll g Ihe ephemera1. it is also the opposite. Con lra ry to Ilcraclilll;o; 's i1pl il ),is ltl. "Olll' d()esn't ba the lwice in the same river," lh ctl tl\ : iS :l1I CJ1ItC. IIl" al l'nl'ds whil' h rt.:lal\!s whal h(\::; alreao y happened and
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r~ca ptll1'l:s what has already becn cxpcrienceu . We have lhe pleasure 01' exor l'ising lhc vertigo of time, 01' conquering it through repetition. T he passi\>I1 01' Ihe thcatrc-goer comes from his abili ty lo recapture time past, to revcrs<':, lhrollgh repetition, its motion o finfinite ftjght, to fill the lack (the radica l fail url' 01' consciousness, incapable 01' seizi ng the ever-fleeing p resent) by means 01' un acli ve, indisputable. repetiti ve prcsence. T he high peak of theatrical plcas ure is perhaps that it a ll ows us lo parli cipate in él concTete event whi ch is a representatio n of the impossíble, ofwhat cannot have any concrete existence in the course 0 1' Our own lives. We see those who are now a bsent. we talk with the dead , and we tra vcl back in to th<: past, 01' course. but we al so eross the barrier into a world where contradiction disa ppears, we see the Other being just another person, lhe actor being bot h himself and the character, no longer imprisoned within the confi nes 01' his own body. T he pleasure 0 1' seeing aman representing a woman, and vice versa. is not only a play on sexual d ifference but also tbe stage represen tation 01' an oxymoron which is the stage actualization of the poet ic fi gure of lhe im poss ible. "If I could only be that gentleman walking by!", M usset's F antasio cries out. Theatre. for an instant, sa tisfies this desire.
Pleasure as a totality Are we not going too far when we break down theatrica l pJeasure into ~o many pieces, wb en we atom ize it, whí le a t lhe same time refu sing to cIassi fy the modes of pleasure according to the modes of representation , am.l in facl stating that they are always present, al Ieast pOle ntially, even ifthe final brcw varies depending on the proportions of the ingredients? So there must O~ somewhere in theatrical pleasure some unifying principlc, or al \cast som¡; possibilil y in theatrical pleas ure for totalization. In c1assical lndian (Sanskrit) thealre, Bharata expounds this thcory 01 lheatrical pleas ure: after knowledge (vihhál'a or knowledge 01' feeJi ngs a nd al/lIbhál'a or knowledge 01' the conseq uences 01' the forementioned feel in&,,) comes hhóva, i.c., the feeling(s) 01' the thei:ltre audience; and lhere a.r~ all kinds offeelings, physical reactions included (and 1shall call all of them " plcu:- ures "). Arter the bhüva comes pleasure proper, lhe rasa, which K . M . Va nnil , quotíng and commenting on Bharata, defines thus: " rasa is lhe resu lt 01' " perfecl combina tion 01' bhfivas, vibhüva.\·, anuhluivas. T his co mbina lion pro duces a global experience differc nt from in di vidual feeli ngs . ... Jt can he compared to a delícious drin k wh ich is él mixture 01' variou s ingred icnts hUI whosc fl avo ur is unl ikc lhal 0 1' any single ingrcdient. '· T his u ncw " fecJi ng can be explained by Ihe altitllde 01' lhe speclalo r when he is walching lhe r/ay "fcclings uo no t set in mOliOIl lhe voJit ion . Conseq llent ly the spcda tor is frcl' f"ro m yo/il ion .. .. [Tlhe srx'Cla tor's tota l c>.pcricnce nft his cOlllbín a ti ll11 . . ji¡ pureo uniquc and cOl11 plclcly pcaceful. Such un cxrerícnce is cél llcu r(/ .\'(/ a mi ji ís "ot hing slr o rl nrhcalíl lldc." 11 T hll¡¡l rÍ(;¡¡ 1 plt!aslIIt: thus ddlJ1cd is Ihe Ill1 i' l l1 1· 1(1
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f" all al"l"cctivc cIC IllClJl s pItls thl dís tancillJ; we necd to éIl:h icve peacc. Perhaps I :1m c10se lO Illaki ng rni " e Ihe fin al ddinition 01' this ancient Jndian theorist. Even Brech l might subscribe lo it. But one must not rorget that lhe thea lre speda to r is sUITounded and pressed on by a sort of urgency, a.nd that this pleasure is coun tereu by its own ¡im its.
Limits It is not hard to contrast pleas ure with desire - desire as lack. I f the pleasure 01' the spectator is, as we have seen, the pleasure of a presence that cann ot be denied , 01' the being-there [1'élre-Ia] of bodies in a text to be ..ead a nd reread ; ir pleasure find s íts fulfilment as sensual pleasu re at the precise moment that the ever-increasing gap between the acting-out and the fictíon, between the hody and the character portrayed , disappears; ir pleasure lies, then, in the ability 01' the spcctator to relate to a prescnce, it is also blocked by taboos: lhe taboo against touching, even against seeíng at c10se quarters, the taboo against seeing (knowing) w¡th certainty. The Iimits of pleasure are to be found in the very existence of this no man 's land in which it travels between f¡ctíon and realíty . The object of desire is forever in flight ; it is and it is not: it constantly repeats to the one who desires it, " 1 am and 1 am not what I am. " I f there is a passion proper to theatrc, it resides in tlris uninterrupted fli ght. This ftight and this Illovement are of a dual nature; the object ftees from the eye and the touch 01' the Qne who desires it: not only the actor ftees from us, but all the beauly shimmering on the surface of the stage. Like water held in our cupped hands, it trickles away and evapora tes, unable to satisfy the demands we ma ke on it. But our demands also flee ; they CallJlot affix them sc\ves to what exists before uS. And the flight 01' our desire is no less frustrat ing than the Il ight 01' the object: the desire of the spectator travels from object to object, and if it stops and becomes fixed , the relationship between the spectator and the theatre at once disappears. To fix one's desire on a particu lar actor is to give up one's role as spectator, to negate the theatrical experi cnce. 12 The relationship between the specta tor's desi re and the stage is one 01' cndless wandcring but also one of permanent frustration. And it is not desire alone tha1 is frustrated; the totality ofthe stage space is the object ofdemands that ca nn ot be mct. The essential situ a tíon of the speclator is dissatisfaction, lIot onl y because he cannot possess the object of desire (and ir he did , he would possess something other than what he desired),ll but because his intel Jigence iLsclf is unable to bridge the gap. And at this point the semiologist, I"accd with what rcfuscs to yicld meaning. falls sílent.
Notes litis I.:xt is 1111: illiti;!1 \lc r ~ 11I1l .I {"', ·flll, ''' ' (P;lri s, II)XII
,,1" ;1 ~· ltaJ1I Cr 01"
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1\1 11>11·. N( ·I \ S/ SI'H(' I I\TC/RS/JII'
2 Berloll Brel:hl , f·cril .\· sl/r le Iltétill'!!, tran~ . kan T ailkur, cl al., 11 (Pari s, 1')"1'» , 10 - 12. "It is in rael a dlaraCI~rislie 01' the resourl:C~ 01' lhe Ihealre lo lranslllil kn owlcugc anu impulses in lile fo ml of sensual pleasu rcs: LiJe intensit y 01' t he kn owledge and the impulses is uirectly rel a teu to Ihe in tensity o f the sensual pleas ul'e." See " A nmerkun ge n ZLI den S tLick cn unu AufTürllnge n: Z u Del' JloJineislcr von Lenz, " in S clrrificn ZUIYI Thcmcr 3. Gcsammefle Werk e, XVII (F rankfurt am M a.i n, 1967), 1240. 3 Berlolt Breeht, uA Shorl O rga nu m for the Thea tre," in Breehl 0/1 T/¡en{re. T" e
Developmenl (¿{an Aeslhelic. tra ns, a nu eu. Joh n W illett (Lo nuo n , ,1964), p. 180.
4 Cf. Bruno Bette lheim , The Uses ol Ellc/¡al1lmenl: Tire M ell/1ing lImllmpOrl({nce (JI
Fairy Tales ( New Yo rk , 1976). 5 Cf. Breeht: "The inexh a uslible goou hUl110llr ofthe ellnning Vl asso va ... inuueeu ha ppy laughter o n the workmen's benches. T hey seí7.eJ a viul y l h is ra re oppor tun í!y to observe everyuay happenings in sa fety, anu thus ha ve ¡he leisure to stuuy lhem anu prepare their ow n h ne o f eonduct" (" Briel' an uas Arbeitertheater Thealre Union in New Y o rk , das Stüek Die ¡\tUlle,. betreffend, " in S dlrijien zum Theater 3, 1(55). 6 " AII Paris , lik e Rodrigue, has eyes only for Chimene" A comment on the popula r ity of Pie rre Co rneiLle 's Le Cid, despite the op in ions of the eritics. See Nicolas Boilea u-Despréaux, Scllire IX (Paris, 1666), 1. 232. 7 The chilu moves the spool back and forth , lea rning in this wa y to m aster a presenee/absenee wh ieh m a kes the absence of the mo the r m ore bea rable. 8 See Sigrnllnd Fre ud. Essais de psyclumalvse appliquée , transo Marie Bonaparte a nu Éuouard M arty (Paris, 1933); O. Ma¡{noni , C/efs pour l'imaginaire: ou, /'aulre scene (Paris, 1969); élnu Anuré Oreen , Un CEil en lrop (Pa ri s, 1969). 9 See C harles Mauro n, P.\ychocrilique du genre comique (Pa ris, 1964), for his remark able an a lys is of Ihe fantasy o f triumph. 10 Mikhai l Ba khtin , Rahelais ami /ti.\ Wo rld, tran so Hclcne Iswolsk y (Cambriuge, Mass., 1968). 11 K . M. Varma , " La Base uu théatre c1assiquc inuien ," in Les Théalres d'A sie, comp. Jean Jacq llo t (Paris , 1961), pp. 32- 33. 12 For the man or woméln in love with an actor or act ress, the stagc beeomes the obstacle, él place wherc all uesires are unleasheu. 13 This can be seen in George Sanu's aumiT21ble sh ort story La Marquise, where the woman in lo ve with (he actor eollapses before th e reality of the man.
".1>{
36
T HE AU D I E NC E
Subjectivity, community and the etrucs of listening
Alice Rayner So un:c:
JO/JI'//{{( o!f)I'(/IHatic TI/ eor)' l/lid Crilicism
7(2) (1 993): J 24.
In Rosencranlz and Guildenstern Are Dead, the Player King accosts the uncer tain duo "joyously," with the words, " an audience! Do n't move" (21 - 22). [n his monumenta l book on the audience. Herbert Bla u begins \Vith a quotation from Virginia Woolf. " No audience. No ech o, T hat's part ofone's death " (1). In his play, ortending lhe Audicnce, Peter Handke announces, " Yo u are the topie. . .. y ou are th e cen ter. You are thc occasion. Y ou are the reaSOTlS why" (21) . And in certain historical accounts, a ud iences are iden tified by d01l1inant cultural ideas by such statements as Tillyard 's: " orthodox doctrines of rebellion and of the monarch were shared by evcTy section of the community" (64, . I f these uses of the word are at all indicative of the range of how "audience" is convention ally understood , they suggest how an audience is projected as a fixed point (" Don 't move"), a dimensi on o fself-reftection ("No echo. That's part of one 's death"), a teleology (" th e reasons why") and an orthodoxy. In semiotic terms, thc audience is a sign for purpose (telos), a point of reception , an echo, an orthodoxy. One of the first problems in trying to understand the word " audiem:e" comcs with the assumption that it signifies a collcctive vcrsion of a single consciousness rather than just the desire for such unity. The word "audience" oftcn appears to function as an im age of unity created out of diversity, as a kind of e plurihlls unum: an aggregate 01' indi viduals that together constitute a largcr yet still singular individuality, as though " the" audience has a collect ivc co nsciousness that is analogo us to a uniflcd individual subject. Such an ass umpti Qn di~intcgrates rather quickJ y under the pressure of both hi storical a mi dec(mstruct ive qucstions. The sign obviously. perhaps neccssarily, conceals tlle di lTere nces th at l11a kc each ind ividu al member unique not only by various ..:Iassilic,tt ions of ra¡;c, n;i1iol1 , dass or gendcr, famili al, social, cducation a.l, Iill glli~tic ;Ind \,l xpc!'icnl ¡a l hi stories hut abo by lhc particular position (literally i ..¡\
1\ lJ 1> 11, N (' 11 ~/ s pI:( ' I " I ti It ... 111 ..
and figu ra lively where one sits) in lhe con fig uratíon u r an evcnt. Ncithcr ca n the wmd accou nt ror th e temporal aspeclS of history~ that audiences ch ange over time. fro m moment to moment, night to nigh t, epoch to epoch. !\nd even when the word does not refer to a gro up 0 1' ind ivid uals , b ut to either ano ther perso n or lo the dívided consciousness in which a sel l' is " audience" lO itself, similar di fferences are concealed o r ignored. T he sign "a udien ce," in other wo rds, does not ne~'Cssarily OI wholl y confo rm to the practice of "a udie nce. " In addition lO rhe uses 01' the sign , one may consider "a ud ience" as a \Vord tha l im plicitly loca tes the d ivision betwccn speak in g and hewi ng, a divisi on that applies as much to a supposedl y si ngular s ubject as lO a collecti ve o ne . As soon as I speak. lhe wo rds 1 have found (as soon as they a re won.ls) no longer belong to me, are origin all y repeated (Artaud desires a theateri n which repeti tion is impossiblc ... . ) I must first hear myself. In soliloquy as in dialogue, to spea k is to hear oneself. As soon as 1 am heard , as soon as J hear myself, the I who hea rs itsel!; who hea rs me, becomes the I who speaks and ta kes speech from the J who thinks that he speaks and is hea rd in his own name; ... (177) Th e ''1'' who speaks, in Derrida 's formulat ion, is already an audience to itself. an audience thal is comprised by division and differenee . Bu t understanding ofwhat is sa id or written or seen is also, in Ba rbara Herrnstein Smi th's view, radically eontingent upon time, context and inlerest (as opposed to merely " slIbjectivity" or the divisions ofsignifier and signified) (11). That is, the divi sion occllrs within a context no t only of history a nd circumstances but o f intentions. The individual hears with varying capacities, from varying posi tions, from di ffering interests, from one moment to lhe next. Sometimes r hear you from my position as a woman, sometimes as a professor, sometimes as a mother, sometimes as bOllrgeois. My hearing depends on detailed differ ences or similarities: have 1 read thc same books; have 1 heard this before; do I have an earache; do 1 see you or listen on the telephone; do 1 presume we are alike or different. 1 And sometimes an d in varying degrees , t can ch oose the mode of my conscious Iistening. From the pressure 01' such questions of differences a nd paIticlllarities, not lo mention intentionaJ ities, the very reaU ty ofan audience might seem to disintegrate. As a paradigm of community, moreover, the audiencc is a lready in the process of such d isintegrati on. W hether explained through the de constructi ve turn (Derrida) , the lo!:,'¡ c of la te capitalism. mu ltina ti onal eco nomy. and the postmodcm aesthetic (Jameson), the en d of master narratives (Lyolard ), the skepticism toward history by histori ogra phy (Whitc), lhe era 0 1' mech an i\:ttl rcp rod uction ( Oenja mi n). l he J isplaccl11cn I uf I he Re'JI (La\:an). powcr I,;om in g rrom belo w (l-'o\l\:a ll ll). 01' simply lh l' I\gc ni Aq uarius. lhe IlId iclICl' UIIlI cOllllTlun it y :m: di ~pcrsing. Ir lhen: is ;1 n i ~ b in 11I1liL'r\lil llding "'lO
1111 "~lIId i c llcc " il l11ay \Vell hl: IIlIly Il lI é 1I101~' iIlSI :U H':C ()I' Ihe cOll lcmporary crisis arising rmlll lhc ~ ritiqllc 01' n~I;lJ 1'1I11II1S, sc lf~ rctkxi v il y, Icl eo l()gy and idco Illgy , a criti que lllal :;cenls l() d iSlll a ntk l:ol11munities as it dismantles meta physics. For tlle taxonom y 01' dilTerences yields eventually to the radical partil:ularity and plurality of every individual and lhus disso lves the force 01' eOI11TTIunal or collective real ity ati well as of intentions. Excessive em phasis on individual differences suggests the impossibility of lIsing the lerm "audi cnce" in any meaningful way as an instance of a commun ity . W hile tbere are certainly modest uses ofthe word, "a udience," uses that seem to ma ke no assertions about an ontological sta tus, the word's status as a noun gives it aspects ol' a su bstanti ve lh at, as Wittgenstein pOÍJlted out, " makes us look for a thing that corresponds to it" (1). T o account fo\' what an audience " is," to ask for the point of reference, is a difficult if not suspect p rojecr, since the referent does not operate, as Wittgenstein wou ld have it. apart froTTI the uses of the termo If it is imposs ible to mak e an y assumptions abo ut the status of either cOl11munity or audience outside usage, however, we a re left with either a pessimistic view that community a mi audience do not exist and lh at there i:; therefore no reality for indi vidua ls in a gro up, no force in social acli on. o r the optimistic view that they can be endlessly created and reereated in an infinite play oflanguage games, as Lyotard describes it in The Posll11odern Gnu/ilion. The mystery of coherence, whose disintegration is either deplored 01' cele brated in postmodern politics and aesthetics, is a mystery of the eollective no un . T he focus or the collective noun upon the unified status of an aud ienec tends to obscure both diversity and Lem porality, suggesting an idea l conform ity between speaking and hearing, an ideal of simultaneity imagined by Heidegger." On the other hand, the deta iled specification of any single audi ence disintegrates the co llective idea to infinite particlIlarity. Ir Ihe alldience is accurately a eolJective noun, however, il is best undcrstood as a multiple subject. The questions about audience, 1 think , need to turn away from ontology what an audience or a community is- toward the listenin g func tion that would constitute the action of audienee. an action that has historicaJ and unconsciol\s con lexts as well as intcntions. F or it is that function, J might suggesl, lhat comprises a means for brid ging the deconstructed sign " audi ence" and ethil:al acts that produce social meanings in social encounters. The contradiction between the audience that is constructed linguistically, ideologically 01' ideally as a sign and the audience that actively Iisten s may be irreconcilable. But that contradiction may itself be productive insofar as it identi1ies the ditTerenees that comprise the social world . The very division helween speak ing anu hearing that Derrida has described aboye, that is , can he 11 S0 111C poin l, for face-to-face eneoun lers. 1 want to s llgg~t tha l lhe ell:mcnt s Ihat ¡.;\m ::;tilll (~ lhe constructeo or reified subject of "auJ iem:é" il'; r1'\ l i ~'Lli,111 liS ,1 ti xcd point, or scl r- rellcction. teleology amI ~VC II 1111 hodo'\V 11Ii~¡)11 ¡II -;\I he 1\~!-oIiIlrCl'S rOl' Ihe cth ical (\(;1 () t' liSIen ing, l'ven
1 ~ 1
1"111 AI!rJl h NI ' I, lhough lhe rci lkali lln a nu lhe ¡Iél \1(' li:;lc ning an: u ~ tll\.:l l\l lpil l ihll: as ¡¡ 11 ohjl.:CI a nd su bjedivily: lhey are non- pa ra ll cl event:¡, cOl1lradie lnry convcnljons. Such él project is far beyond lhe :¡copc l)f'an essay ,SO wha t loll ows is really a n explorato ry gesture loward the problem . A udience ji) an i nstanCf;~ 01' in ler subjeetive relations with specific rcfercnce to the act of Iislc ning, and il is lhal aet that is fundam en tally ethica\. In lhis essa y. 1 want to discuss the term aud ience as a model for inter s ubjeclive relatio ns as opposed to a model for a unified com mun ity; lo vicw the audience, tha l ¡s, as a "bo undary conditi on" in t he aet 01' understa nding another and, as a result, 01" understa ndin g the constitution and conlradictions 01' its own d ifferences. Audience is an occasion fo r asJd ng the ethica! q uestion what to do at the bounda ries of comprehcnsion? How d oes the aud iencc/ listener operate in order to recognize an implicit context a nd histori ca! past ami to resist sim ply taking in recei ved mean ings that are already fo n nul a ted'! What ca n be do ne when hearing or seeing is not automa tic, does nOl come out ofcommon culture, lang uage, racc or gender, does not arise from a shared catastrophe? The model of multiple subject positions may allow that such multiplicity opera tes simultaneously, nol in scq ue nce, an d il may suggest a way lo discuss how the complex relation s belween s ubjects in vol ves the engagement of histury, desire and an intentional re-framing of meanings. Let me look first at some possibilities in various constructions of an audi cnce position . This part of the essay offers a hypotbesis for how drama tic forms could be said to construct a posit ion tor an audienee. whether by a mode of address, by aesthet ic practices (such as da rkening tb e theater) , or by J iscursive practices. For con venience, 1 make these positions analogous to pronominal forms of a subject. Jn this section the point is not to describe audiences but to offer a system of difTerentials for noticing how an audience is constructed and to imply that it can occupy multiple positions in the same way lhat a p ro nominal subject can occupy variolls positions. The break-up of the singular subject in contemporary critical and philo sophical work, has crea led al! ethical di lemma not only about how differences l:u n be accommodated in social groups a nd communities, but abo lit how to aet in the con lex t of such differences . The audience is an instance 01' such a Jilemma . T he second part of the essay is a proposa l abo ut what an audience Illight be sa id to need to do in order lo account for and act upon its own lIIultiplici ty. Such needs appear most crucially at what I am calling lhe "bo ulld ;¡ ries" 01" comprehension , where what is seen or heard is not si rnply a ma tter of sclr-recognition. The dissolution 01" lhe unitary subject does not e1imin ate l,thica! obligations: it puts them in the foreground. In terms of the a udiem;e, ITIu lliplicity furtherm ore poin ts at meaning, understa nding and com m unit y no l as cnti ties to recover a nd hold but as processes through which to crea te ól nd dcvdop va lues. The second part of lhe essay views Ihe a udicm;c from a Itypol hct ical posili on 01" é1n open s ubjcct where il il1l.:un.¡ 111r.: oh liga tio ns of IislcninJ.'. TItC~l' are obligat io n'i llt al come rrom a cil r:II.·lly rOl IiS l.l'ning an d
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Desire appears in the rift which separates need and demand ... it seeks to impose itself without taking into account th e language a nd lhe uncon scious of the other. ... (483) Thc other is an ¡mage which serves the self-constitution of the ''r' as a subject and turns the performer and performance into a kind of mirror. Th e " J" rccognizes the speaker only as an image, without acknowledging that the spea ke r has an independent language, consciousness and unconscious. It is Ihe aspcct lhat harbors Ihe belief that the performance is indeed a " mirror up 111 na lure," whid l i:; <1 mirror 01' Ihe sc1f. both ind ividua l and collectivc. T he "'" idcn lincs willl lhe pcrf'nlmcr (o r objcl:t) as in Lacan 's m irror stage (1 7). 11 iS ;l c(mSllllllllj' pI,... lIt tl ll 111:11 lak..:s in Ihe r e rro rmer as tho ugh inseparable
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siün its own sin g ular slirnulat ion and sclf-recogni lion. H is a posil ion th a l demands sdf-sim ilarity or identificat lOn w ith the ot her for its exprcssi vc possibiiities and its 111.irrori ng capacities. The "1 " sees itself reflectcd in the irnage 01' the o ther with all lhe a1tach ments of desire and fear, with needs for sclf-simila rity , with fear of dilTerence. It is this position 01' ¡be subject tha t has been most fully examined by the CQ nvergcnce 01' narral ive, Marxist , fe mini st and psychoanal ytic theory , par 1 ticularly in relation to film. The particul a r constituti o n orfil m ic narrative, .11 0 1 un li kc the literary narrative, alm ost req LÚres a notion of a udience as a sin gular Subject, o perating both in isolation from a comm u nity and as an object ofcultural production or psychoanalytic "abjectio nu-a subject divided against ilselfby language and the domajn ofthe Symbolic. And certain fo rms of theatre no doubt elieit sueh com p1ieations in the determination of an audience as
oJ"lm:alli llg. T IHlHI!,J¡ ih fi ll lll lll ¡;: J¡¡¡lm'ICII." il:<;, il plays wi lh ItlC dcsi n.' l¡ rlhe alldicnl!c as a lll é¡ lll¡, ,,1' 1I 1\\)lvílll' , ,lga in in BnlO k:;'s Vil~W. Ihe cOlltradicliollS .. nd d ynanrÍl.:s nI' I'rcud 's p lcasu re prim:i plc a mi beyond (97) . T he hislorical fo rms 01' realism lhus lend bolh lo aSSllme a nJ determ ine lhe posilion 01" the '')'' or ego' as lhe modc l ror social identity , and the audience as a collectivc ve rsion 01' such identity, created out of the gap bctween need and demaml f()rever unsatisfied by symbolic d isplacemenlS. ever generat ing new desires and demands to be ful lilJed. A part from evidence 0 1' that narrativc desire, howeve r, lhe ideas of natura1ism inherited from Z o la perpeLuate the comO. binalion of desire for and master over the vi sible and the invisible. T he "slice oflife" image of the reaJisLic stage is offered as a datum of knowted ge whose validity is eonfirmed by a eooperative pretensc bctween the alldienee and performers wh o act as though they are not being observed . But lhe realbt slage pictuTe and narrative in the theatre a re fu ndamentally different from film and the subjectivity they engage. As C hristian Metz and Kaja Silverman have in uicated, film is constituted by a " particular absence." Because the spectator and the actor are never in the same place a t the same time , cinema is the story of missed encounters, of the ''' I"a ilure to meet 01" the voycur and the exhibitionist whose a pproaches no longer coincide'" (3). T he theatrc. as is obvious, is a sitc for the meeting of individuaJ s and perso ns witllin wbatever imaginary constitu tio n of the Subject there rnay be . For even in the dark , individual::; are meeting as a collecti ve and are tahng part in a social ritual. T he ritual dimension , that is, eannot be entirely eliminated . T he meeting place thus aliows for other " prono minal " encounters: the we, the it and the yOU . The first person plural is the position ofthe eolleetive community, the posi tion ofcommunity rilual. 1t situates the commonality orthe speakin g/hearing enterprise. In certain kinds of theatre, ho\Vever, the " \Ve" might also serve to identify the experiential sensallon of community in a fu sio n of identities. Antonin A rtaud , for exampte asked for theatre to a bsorb diffe rences. He \Vants to: ... abolish the stage and lhe auditoriurn and replaee them by a single site, \Vithout partition or barrier of any kind .... a direet commun ication \Viii be re-established between the spectator and the speetacle, bc twcen the aclor and the spectator, from the faet that the spectator, placcd in the middle ofthe actio n , is engulfed a nd physieally affected by it. (96) h )r Artaud. the dis tineLi Qn between fi rst and second person is dissolved in lO
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"nd Illl' ga p bc l wcc lI IC f1H,:scllta l lUlI a nd appll'lh" Il' "111 l' 1l1ll1·l!xisl c nl. T he pc rror ll1c r a nd audic.:m:l' alc O lll' , w lth J ilT'crclIl:cs dl ' so lvcd j l) inll y particip ating in lhe ritual fo rm o R itual parlicipalion subs ume:-- subjel'ls and disti m:li ve slIbjeclivity in a scnsation 01' cornmunity that presents itsel!" as oeyond articulati o n. Meaning is ima gined to occur no t in rcpresen ta t ion as un objec t and not deferred lo a laler tirne or place but in a sirnulta neity o f a tempora l and spatial present. And meaning is neither a reteren t nor a voufoir diré b ut '¡re ilsel f, a total gesture. a hieroglyp h, a facticity. If Artaud supplies an extrerne exam p le of the fi rs L person p lural as thc pronoun of community, he i1Jnstrates also the idealization of community as a total id en tity in a tota l co-presence. There is a (''erta in o bjeclivc realit y lo that co-presence in a n y theatre evcnt that joins many people in the same space al the same time. Artaud's premise for l he Theatre of Cruelty is that the theatre can create a ""we" as a fusi on of idcntities in communion w ith elemental forces . In praetice, ho wever, Artaud 's theatre is found to be impossible, amI one often finds a sense of despair in those who a ttempt and fai l to implement it. Levinas rnakes an im portant point about the problem: But if communication bears the mark 01" failure or inauthenticity in this way , it is beca use it is sought as a fusiono O ne begins with the idea that duality must be transformed into unity, and that social relations must clllminate in communion ... . It is the last vestige of idea lismo The breakdown of communica tion is the breakdown of knowlcdge. One does not see that the success ofknowledge would precisely abolish the proximity of the Other. A proximity that, far I"rom meaning less than identíficati on, precise1y opens up the horizons of social existence, making the whole surplus of ou r experience of friendship and love burst forth, ami introducing the definitive quality of o ur identical existence lO a1l the non-definitive possibilities. ( 164) I f the "we" is supposed to refer to an already existing communit y, the mean ing that "we" apprehend is already c10sed to possibilities for fur the r mean ing. The proximi ty of the Other as opposed to identification with it opens up to " non-definitive possibílíties" tbat releases a future for meanings that are yet to be known. In contrast to an experientíal sensation ofthe fusion ofidentities. '\ve" can (lIso be considered rhetorica1ly , such that ir offers an invi ta Uo n to join in a c01lective enterpríse directed toward a community that is ye t-to- be. T hc "we " may 01' course designate a specific group, the "we" tha! a re in the sa me room at the same time; it rna y li kewise be a uefining teml , marking o ff an " LIS " ve rs us " them " b ou nd ary fo r commu nity and scrvi ng obvious idcological purp Oses. But it daes no! neccssarily insist 0 /1 prior se ll"-si mil nrity betwcen mem bers of a grOllp. howc\c r m uc h él prcsum pti on ~I r iJ(!nlity inhabits Ihe '1(1
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logclhcr uf IlIlIlIipk individ uaJ:., .1'1 .1I 1I 11 1t1."1 (lw.'I!l k dil1l~lIsiol1l ú r hu rnall acli on in which Ihl' gYoup has 1l 1OIC I. II\.:I. 111 ;11 1 Ihl. illdividual. l rthis requires a ~uspcnsiún 01" lIIyri ad indiv id ll a l d ift cl cnccs, il lioes no t climinate them. " Wc" can be art ic ula tcd lIut by él presumption of (f priori similarity but by a pCl'ception ofwhat could be ca1led com m on "cata~tro phc .' · S uch catastrophe bI Ill)tion com ing from the ancient Greek se nse o f a "turn ing" of evc nis I hal underlies the idea o f drarna - cou ld eq ua lly be a drarnatic performance, a disaster like earthq uake, flood or fire, or even the catastro phe of a common gender or ethnic group that "turns" or is turned from the main strcam or dtJminant culture. The assertion of a " we" arises from sorne sensc of occasion II l1d is thus a temporal idea of group. lt corn bines , tha t ¡s, Ule participatory with lhe disc ursive . If Artaud ' s "we" is L10utterable it is bccause he so ught to diminate the discursive djmension that offers an invitution a n d replaced it with a kind ofeoercive demand for total participation in stead. The rhetorical IIse allows for a lready ex.i sting differences between rnembers of a co m mon l·lltcrprise. Catastrophe crea tes the space for a shared if no t identical expe rience. "We " does not necessarily imply a collective consciousness or uni versali ty as a p rior rcality insofar as it is a rhetorical invitation that may be refused. For groups Ihcmselves are continuously cons tituted and reconstil uted according to inter cst or catastrophe. Individuals j o in with " identity" groups to a great extent hccause such identities have an interest in new or future social order. Tbat intcrest may well be in the attempt to " rccover" so me idea ofsocial , ethnic, o r rcligiolls identity in the face of the more dominant culture. But in the most general sense, a statement of " we" is a statement ofinterest a nd an invitatia n lo join in th a t interest. An ind ividual will say t hat "we experienced certain events, suffered this 01' that hUllliliation or olltrage, even thOllgh he or she as an indj vidual had no sllch experience directly. Furthermore, and signific antly for our purposes , the we with whose experience the i.ndividua l identifies can both p re-date and survive tJle individuals that make it ¡¡p . ... And the ind ivid ual may join in a grollp llllited by a project already underway, as in H lIsserl"s exarnple ofthe continuity of science. In this case, the 11 '(' sllrvives and succeeds the individual as well ; indced in one sense the accomplishment of its common objeetive ("the full truth ") lies in the indefinite 01' even infinitely distant future.
(1 ~3 - 134) The poin t is th at "we" is perhaps lhe m ost radical "shifter" of English gramlllar hccause, as in st!l lh cory. gro ups the mselves are so v¡uiable , the parameters s changcablc . In Ihis SCIN' , "we" is Ihe cmptiest gralllmatica l form becallse it is M I e mp hi.ltkally rlll: to l i('al ami lIva il ahlc to so rnany redescriptions and so ~:' '/
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rnany lC Cl\ p ~>nll i lics. It lakcs intll ,HXO llll l Iln: t'Ul: t pi IIIl Cll lpk Ill J lviulI a ls, bu l l ha l 1~lcl m usl collLin ua ll y be ucl im:u ilnd rcc.Jcl illcu. 1Illlllcd allU rd'o rmctl over time: il can no t ul1cqu ivocally refe .. lO a stablc iJcll lily. In lhe t hi rd person , bol h singular a nó plural . Ihe aud ience is scc n I'ro m Ihe vantage point thal is imagi ncd outside relations, seeing the audience as ao object. Jt is lhe pa int at which th e ''1'' 01' the audience is converlcd in to a thing. The " it" posi tion presupposes that the audicnce is a stable enlity lhat has di serete a nd iden tifiable beliefs and respo nses, like ao o bject with a tt ribu tes and qualiti es. Thi s person is most commonly useu by statistieians o r histor ians to designale a fix ed point for the reception of a perfo rmance work. 1L is both abstraet and to some extent idealized precisely beca use it assumes stabilily anu t urns a complex relation il1 to a simple one. As an object , the a udience becomes available to a ny ideological, hislorical or interpret ive description. It is also susceptible lO a transfeTence by the historian , critic, or statistician from the "1 " person, as though the personal , ind ividual experienee could becomc authorized or validated by being described as a stable object. The designation 01' the audience in the third person alone. as in " iLthi nks, it feels , 01' it believes." (or even, "every member orthe community," as Tillyard says above) exeludes both tbe ftrst and second person: the desiring "r," lhe communal '\ve," and the relalional " you ." By referring to an audienee as an historical " it" 01' " they" (and by not separating orthodoxy (it) from th ose individuals who may or may not hold to it) the histo rian turns an actual group 01' individuals into an orthodoxy that stands between a performance (which would inelude a text) and a contemporaneous reception , as though that orthodox intermediary were the whole souree of true meanings for a perfo rmance, and as th ough the historian too were not part 01' an audience 01' di fferent people that extended through time in an on-going reception of lhe performa nce. aceumulating fu rther contex ts an d meanings. Such a stalement reflccts the dcsire for , if not the belief in , the single, univocal moment al which "an" audience receives the kind of stable meaning the historian may long for. but which is not available to the instability 01' history. Yet , the " it" also identiftes a cultural memory: the non-human resid ue 01' beliefs, orthodoxy, and values that go in to cTcating an historical identi ty. T hc identifiably " inhuman " or impersonal hit" may usefully account fol' lhe dimen sions of a cultural moment th at are not 01' any individual 's own making (Whál is already operating in culture). " It" can al so aecount for lhe " impersona l"' o r abjected forees 01' desire that opera te as though they are inhum an, contTary to consciousness, wiJl , or intention . T he audienee can be designated as an " it" in the sense that "it" identifies that which exeeeds the personal. lhc individua1. In sOllle sen se, the " it" posilions the audience as a product of thc storics 01' history, whct hcr it k,nows those stories o r not. T hc ' 'iH
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1IIlder ~ la nd ill g. which as Lcv inas SlIggcs ls. givl!s lile (llh~ 1 I,,.".,illlif.\". Y¡;I al that Iimi t is u s uspcnsion of lhe o csirc lO fuse wit h Lile ~n lll:1. Wi th Brecht's insistent e o n making the thcatrical appara tu.'> visible, he asks nol j usl that an audience refuse absm ptioll in to the representation or th at, like other modernists , the rnedi um be ma de appa rent, but that the a udicnce see the ruptures in iden tifi cation or fusion ofsubject with object. He asks that choices be made apparent. In the tbeatre, particularly with th e fu nd a menta l materiali ty ofthe visible and auditory, of bodies and speech. cxternality is the site for po litical nego tiations, which are less a matter of know ledge than 0 1' choice a nd judgement. As Lyotard puts it in J'he Po.\'lmodern Cundition:
Levinas is interested in pointing at the engagement that occurs beca use of the strangeness of extema Jit.y. 01' strangeness and diffe rence. and the attraction toward the "alterity 01' the O the r." The otherness of the O lher is not itsel f a datum fo r knowledge but a condition for interest and for dialogue . And thi s is furthermore the condition of social being as distinct from some idea 01" essential Being. In this formulation the desire of the subject ''1'' transforms into "curiosity" towa rd the "yo u." In each ofthe pronominal positions discussed aboye, audience is conceived as a form 01' address, in which the fo rm of a representation úetermines in par! the posi tion of the auúie nce. But to ¡eave the issue there presumes fhst thal there is no ovcrlap in position s- that an aud ience and its individual m emhcr~ are cit her in one posilion 01' anolher- ~ami :¡econd that the a ll d i en~c is hel p Icss in the fnce the re presen ta t io n that il has no aUlonomy alld no ~ h oicc anel is d o o lll cd (o 1he " idcology 01' Ihe acslhc lic ," in Ten')' hl~I\)ln n' s phrasc.
II 11I11h~ 1 pl ~K III I1~~ 1",111111' .1 111 11111\ .: I~ I> lill a "Ih ing " tllat il; uc tl:l'lninl:d by Ihl: spcu kcr/pl uywlI!'hl / ll\.:'tlP lI llcl Fve ll Brecht, Whl) claiml:d to ask the alldic llí.;c 1"\)r ; 1I1 c lhil:al dl s l i\ll~e I'n HlI Ih~ rcprl:sl:lltaiio ll . who wallted to give il Ihe a uto no my lo juu ~c , ilss llIm:d it was his task to "crea te" a ne w kind of alldiclll:e. This is what Ma rx ist critics have bccn saying for some time: that Ihe form an d hi:;tory 01' a particular ki nd of represcn tat ion not only assumes a kind 01" audience~...v ho can hea r-Ü goes a lo ng way toward instituting or determining who can hea r or see a given representati o nal fonn. A long wi lh [)sychoanalytic views, these critics have contrib uted lo und erstanding the ways in which the subject is constituted by language, ideology a mi otherness, by internalized self-di vision . by an inaceessible, unrecovera ble origin, by an always alrea dy existing system of language and cultural institutions. But the exclusive focus on the subject, an d by ex tension on the identity of aud iences in terms of "who" can hear or see, reiterates the prob1ems invol ved in assutn ing an audience is a " th ing" Wilh a specific set of identity criteria and dete rmin ate Iinguistic practice. Tn much of the analysis of the re\ationship be tween forms 01' representation and the subject is an implicit hypostasis of th e rela tionshi p : the subject is bound and delermined, in retters to fo nns. That is , it would seem that the subject is so fu ll y determined by its viewi ng, reading, or hearing of the forms of representation and the objects 01' its ga7.e, that only the liberation of forms will allow the Iiberation of the subject and subjectivity. This \Vould appear to lie behind the articulated efforts of both B recht and Artaud to change their audiences by changing the forms of represen ta tion and of Adorno to find in Beckett the means of breaking t he hold of bourgeois morality over art (194). Those efforts have been cruci a l in responding to the Enlightenment doctrines of "free will," independent of history, culture and form s 01' representation . While the analysis is crucial in understanding ho w representational forms do foster a specific constitution of a subject, Lhe distinction and separation of subject a nd the action 01' subjectivity ignores the possibili ty o f thÍllking alld acting in opposition to the fonns that would defin e and position the subject: as though a bourgeois could not be skeptical of bourgeoís theatre; as though él Marxist co uJd not get " absorbed" by Mo {her Courage; as though a particip ant in ritua lized theatre cea sed to thjnk and ask questíons of the ritual: as though a determinant form sol ved the indeterminacy ofindividuallives; or as though indeterminacy and multiplicity could negate the wish ror coherence and certitude. J do not mean to restate sorne intentionalist doctrinc 01' frec will ami absolutc autonomy of the individual but to ask after thc sourccs of opposition in the individual's capacity to oppose ami criticize even the forms, culture and historical momcnt in which it is implicated . In the gap belwec n <:peaking and hearing, tbat ¡s, there is not simply an absencc bul a l,;únll!xl lhal inch u.Jes hi slo ry (the past) as well as desire to be hcard a nd lhe Jc~i n; !tl SI.'C i1 I1U h C:H. "We. 1, yO\l, ami il" a re always wi thin 1he conlcx l ¡ \t' b,~ t ll II blq l Y ,H1d dcs iré, 'n 1his context, wl1at is hcard is not the
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... Thc executory, wha t shouLd be done, is nol wi thi n the p urview of positivo kn o wledge . It is one thing for an undertaking to be possible and another for it to be j usI. Kno wledge is no longer the subject, but in the service 01' the subject: its only legitimacy (though it is formid able) is the faet that it allows mora lity to beco me reaJi ty. (36) The relation of "second persons," in short, is not only a site fo r differences but a mechanism for the d ynam ics 01' political and ethical activity. In his essay, " The Other in Proust ," Levinas says that The story 01' Albertine is the account 01' the way the inner life looms fort h from an insatiable cu riosity about the alterity or the Other that ís both empty and inexh austible. To kno\\' what Albertine does, what Albertine is, is of no interest in itself as a form of knowledge, but is in fln itely exciting beca use of its fundamental strangeness in Albertine, this strangeness which mocks k nowledge. ( 163)
or
"llljII1NC'I:~ ""1; 4 1/'lllIl~H¡!'
"pc rSll n " 01' "s ll b i é~ l" as m lJ ~h as Ihl: memo!"y, dt:si l l' Il lId hope lhu l \.: 1)1l:rgc
I 111
.\! ¡ III IN I: I 1
lh m ugh Ihe perso no Pe l ha ps lhe fUIll:li o n 01' lhe auLlil.:lluc is lo hca r bO lh his tory and desire in t he silent:e. 'fhe idea 01' a ud iencc- suggesls ~ pec ifi e capauitic.s to hear meaning in both the spoken and lhe unspo ken: to hear the I'ó uloir dir(' as m uch as the utterance. Those capacities, furth ermore, ma y derive from the resources 01' desire, co mm unity , lhe re la tion o f d ifferenees, and evell the imperson a l "it" ofobjectification and orth odoxy, aU of wh ich ma y be p ut into play through intention. S uch intention may not co m prise th e interplay itsel /' beca use the player subm its to the "to-and-fro" o f t.he rela tiona l "game. ,. !\Ithough él pla yer chooses the game, as Gadamer indicates, it "ca noot cnjoy the freedom of playing himself o ut except by transform ing t he a ims 01' his beh avi our into mere tasks of the game" (96). " ( speak to those who understand ," says the Watchman in Aeschy lu s's Agamcmnon. " But if they I~lil. 1 have forgotten everything" (36- 37). He will not articulate the duplicity of C lytemnestra, but the audience m ust kn ow lhe situation in order to understand. One perfOlTIlS, speaks and writcs for t hose \Vho can hear, listen, read, or those who have the capacity. If I do not kn ow that the Watchman is not saying that Clytemnestr a has tak en a lover in the absence 0 1' her husba nd Agamemnon, he remains silent. Tf I do kno w tha t, his silence is eloquent. In another context, tbe capacity to hea r is a condition 01' the ability to speak. As Héléne C iXOllS says for her Dora , ''['m not tbe one \Vho is dumb. I am sj)enced by your inability to hear" (547). I r ( cannot hear Dora's desiJ'e, she remains si lent . as she did to Frcud . Speaking, Cixous says, is not possible without others who have such ca pacity to hear. With such capacity, even silence speaks. T he readiness to hear differenee, in this case, might be understood as an acceptance of the invitation to join, however tcmporarily, in a simultaneity of speaking and hearing, which is a game 01' community. A similar problem occurs in the nced to " hcar" the meaning in an imagc. I·Iow is it possible lo hear what an image "says"? An imaginary dialogue called " Speech Sna ps hot" by Lyotard, presllmably asking about Charcot's photographs of hysterical women, begins: "Do these women have souls'? What d o they want'?" "Ask them ," says the interlocutor (1 29). 1n a parody 01' both F relld and Plato, Lyotard indica tes the issues raised by a collisio n 01' image ami dialectic , "speech and snapshot. " Lyotard never mentions wha t photographs he is writin g about, but 1 presume that tbey are the fa mo us clinical images that portrayed patients in the bodily contortions symplomatic of hysteria. I infer a lüstory a~ I read ror possible mcan ings. A II of these examples concern the sources of the ability and willin gness to hear meani ng (or hear ilS deconstruction) as o pposcd to noise or c mpty si lcnce . 00 what gro und is the reciprociLy CIad rcla1ionship betwce n spcuking amI hea ri ng eSla blished; is it él "grou mJ" at all'! Wha t sho uld Lhe auu icl1ce who does not k now the sto ry 01' Agamemn on d o; what sho uld f. rcu<.l havc dlHIC rol' Dom; wlla l shou lJ lhe verbal and J ialcutic do wil h lile irnag,0: il is ti
('lllllhllll!d 4 111.!sti" ll p i l':" ' ;I!, 11." ,llId \l hhg.llillll in Lhe rcl alionship nI' subjeds ;~., p l!rsO IIS. W lta l, 111 p t ll~' 1 \\'\ II Js, jo, lhe ohliga lion towa rd those I ca nnol ill1 ll1cdiatcly II\!ul ~Jr se/,;. wit h Wh" 111 I do 11\) 1 share comlllOIl language, él com ilIon Illl~di ul11 01' ti CO lllllhll1 ca laslro phe'? F rom G adamer's suggestion , it wo uld scelll Ihal Ihe an swcr is lo enter Ihe game o f intersubjectivity whose "ru les" wOllld include multiplc subject positions and woltld engage desires, memo ry (history), a nd d ifferences . Given lhe multipl icity of the audience as subject, might it no! be appro p ri ate to ask not IV/¡O ca n hear, but 11011' to hear, how to play'! By what mean s is it possible to understand or heal' lhe wo man, the artist, the hysteric. or our o wn cultural schizophrenia'? The W atchman implies that some prior knowledge is necessary: C ixous implies a simultaneity of speaking ami hearing--that Illcaningful speech occurs simultaneollsly with the capacity of another to understand the language of desire. A nd Lyotard 's dialogue suggests tha! Illcaning is developed by an opening to a " what else" or "whal next." The incommensurable difference betwcen image and speech is such a space. To hear thc Watchman requires mernory an d history: a recollection of the story that has gone before. To hear D ora requires a recognition of the nature of her desire, nol the desire imagined by Freud, as well as a recognition of his own desire. Such suspension would have involved an inversion ofhis asserti ve desire ror mastery to a receptive one: a self-consciousness toward receiving; letting her own desire work within him and grantiog her a space to fill. And Illaking such a space, Lyotard s uggests, requires a reframing 01' one's own conceptual spaces not in the direction of a recovery of meanings but toward a creation of them. Whilc the audience is no doubt an instance of a process 01' the constitu tion o f a subject, with its scopic drives, its relation to Other and others, its voyeuristic impulses, " odd , anonylllous needs," as Herbert Blau discusses it. (1-49) the notion of "audience" also designa tes the act of listening. That ad is invoked not by the framework of drive or desire but by the obligatioo of listening to another: by trying to hear the I'ou!oir dire within the stated , not as a referential intention bul as a desire to be heard as meanin grul or as meaning fully breaking the conventional frames. The emphasis here is on the attempt and effort, not success or failure . T hose obligations stand at the boundary between the instinctual drives within subject-constitution, describcd by psy choallalysis, and the cultural sphere in which the frameworks of meaning are negotiated: a boundary that is never c1early delineated. It is perhaps a borderland more than a boundary between the capacity to hear anO the obligation to listen to what o lle ca nnot immediately understand or comprehe nd . Ano it leads to the learning of com m unity--the story of C1y temne~t ra. lhe dcsi res or Dora , Ihe voice in the image- in the exchange of sign!;. In t he itka \ ) 1" allJIl,; n ~1! i~ Ihe presu m plion 01' ch oice which involves an elTnrl Lo rCl,;()g ll i/c l!tlo' \JI IIc l l1Co;s t ha t OCl: llrs beca use people are exterior l cm;h lll lh:r. ;1I (/I U il/¡t1/ Id Ilu", 111l'Y a l \.' .. lslI u\lIl stituted by langllage, molles of
12
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1111
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p rod uction. idcology 01' lhe sli.l to ap purulus. Al the vcl y k asl, slIl:h <:hoicc invol ves a dcci sion to recognize a no bccome se (f:·co nscIOus to wa nJ the limi La tions ofthe subjcet' s o wn " imaginary" versi on of selfand othe r a limitati on that does nol acquiesce lo an unrccoverable past or an acquiescence to al1 unknowa ble, but takes that un knowablc as a pre-condition wilhi n which actioll is still necessary ami a confro ntation wi th another inevitable. Lyotard demonstrates the eomplicalions in the questi o n of th e d ial ogue mentioned earlier. l n an effort to read the images of the hystedcs. to hear whal th ey a re " saying," one interlocutor describes the images as a syntax: " .. . these bod ily states were seman tic elements a nd . . . they could be Iin ked toget her by a syntax. One wo uJd then o btain senlenccs, regulated seq uenccs, a nd, a long with them , meaning" ( 129). The other interlocutor has already poin ted ou t thal lO ask the initial questions of the images (" Do these women ll ave souls? W hal do they wa nt'!") in the mode of t he P laton ic dialogue. " is o nly possible if the body has a soul." The q uestion, in othcr words, presumes an idea of soul, a relation of difference between body and soul , and it seems lo lim it the possi ble answer to yes or no. But the d ialogic investigalion later sb o ws a language in the irnages, a language tha t has "a rclation to the bodily synta x (of traditional tbeatre o r dance) li ke that of little elemen ts of sound to com posed music. John Cage says that he wa nts to let sounds be. These photos sho\\' what it is to let body-states be" (133). The in iLial question that asks lhe images to enter lhe dialogue, in other words. is already coercive; it already presumes the form and content ofa mean ingfuJ answer. The ans wer, perhaps. is "no; they do not have souls. " B ut what then? F urther in the brief dialogue, Lyotard also implies that one might simply let the images "be," outside the language or dialogue (d o n't even ask ir they have souls). To j ust " let tbem be," however, seems to me to en force lhe contin ued silence of the women in the hysterical image. The point is to ask what else there is to understand after the answcr demanded by the question. The " Iel be" alternat.ive is also another way of keeping the hysteric "meaningless. ·' T he ethical act for the audience or interlocutor. on the other hand , is to lislen lo the hysterical discourse or view the hysterica l image with the hypotheses thal it is not meaningless; the ans wer. " no , they do not have souls," is not a finalanswcr. The di ffic ulty in d ia lectic, thcn , is to recogn ize the coercive fo rce 01' q ues tions and to remain open to an "impossible" answer that wo uld constitute not-yet-determ ined possibilities, rather than only to rcconstruct an already completed mca ning. The obligation is to allow that the fra mes·-or fre quencies , in acouslical terms- of one's own questions may need adjustmcnt in order to hea r. Such adj ustmen t allows for the possibility 01' learn ing some lhing gelllti nd y new, not just what o nc al re
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Imagine. l.'\UII I(I!l: IIl1 p lrl'alll'II S ill Ihe idci.l, now largely archaic, "giving a n ¡llJ ~h c lI ~c ." ('¡~ I I ; llIlI y c\ lIlli1 illCd in the ph rasc is Ihe pres urnpt ion tlJ a l the givcr h a ~ SO IIlC kintl nI' allth~) rily to grant or den y Lhe rcq ucst of lhe olher. Conta incd in (he p hrasc is also the idea of acting as an arbiLer of the petitioll, and the rerore as a kind o f judge. But that judgcmenl does nol nccessarily rely on the law or cven cultural orthod o xy as the sole, medi ating inst ru men t: there is a diffcrcnce between a co urt trial and givi ng a n audience ami the di1Terence is preciseIy at the boundaries of order whcrc culturalla ws fail to a pply. T o gi ve a ud ience implies a position from w hi ch to hea r the mea ni ng of th e speaker by filtering the petitioner's intent ions through the fra mework o f t he posítio n as
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0 1' powcr t )VlT , ro l' ill'CI UnlS Lhe speaker lo il:¡c!f wi ll l ;'1 Ji ncn.m ~c. r ile rclatiO Il is pc rhaps clearcSl whcn lhe cin;um sLa.nces 01' :¡peaking <1lld listeni ng are outsidc the nO nllat ive fra meworks of a perfomlémce, when th e obliga ti on to listen is ob v iou ~ and the dem a nd on tbe a udie nec is greatest beca use mean ing is not within a familiar frame. Tha t th is rdation is "ethical" ra lher than "Iegalistic" or " metaphysical" has lO do with being a wa re, along with lhe pe r fO nller, of thc j oint venture in o pening towa rd mean ing, not reco ve ring it. Audicnccs can undoubtedly fUflction only a s eons umers, but a s slI ch Lhey are not fulfilling their obligation to the speakers or perfom lers. T he reccpfivi ty of the a ud itor is an obligatíon tha t clemands a recognit ion of the simultane ous position ofbeing both a " self " and a n "other" in a reJa tiol1 , joined by the ca tastrophe of worldtiness. T his dua l posit ion gives él performance it:¡ s ta tus as él performa nce which is to be in rela tion to its "olher" and 10 exi stfor a n other, with multiple subject positions Ihat provide an echo. This means thaL the performance is not a solipsistic cvcnt of self-ex.pression but an event lh al has the characteristics of the very world liness that comprises lhe faet of the world in which subjects a re fo rmed coopera tively and meaning is not cl osed on a preestablish ed referent but open to lhe "not-yet"
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created by
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crnotion , thing
imagined, he rhere
more. T hey re
inforce. / want
my imagined to be an
occasi on whcrein the not-imagined-by-me
can bc there" l
The echo 01' the not-yet-imagincd by me enables Ihe speaker/audiencc lo be a prou ucl ive pa ir that might usefully desc ribe parad igm ror sQcial rclat ions. T ha t Iclal io ll has a past. li kc C ly te m ncstra"s hislory, .1 r n:s\.:llcc of J"ace-to lace rclal iOlls.likc ¡hc simullil ncolIs healing an d spca killV Iha l ( ' i X\lllS ' ~ Dor
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1 111
TIII; I'llldill g. \)\ll.' tl.lp]lIIl!' .l lI d d l.j Il Jl\ I hH IS llllh c~\! J'C I'llioll s makc "alterily"' tmlh ·\.:mrly alld Il ll·, II HI I'.tlhk- 111 III ~ jull ol"idcnLil ies. mca ni ng is cxh au.'it iblc, ir ntH cx hauslcd. 1111.' Il llll l: colllpk.x relat icm s bctween the "\Ve, /, you and il," fo rm lhe social dy na mie in which the spélce 01" audienee serves as él cllal1lbe r ro r an ech o thal is a lso a eonversalion . T he
Notes T he ran ge of such social kno wledge has been described by Be rger and L uckm a nn as dependent upon not onl )o " pragrnaüc competence" or " reci pe k no w ledge ," (42) but also on the " d egrecs 01' Camiliarity" on "structured relevan ees" as to interest and concern (45). 2 "The path of his [He idegger'sJ thought starts from the juncture in w hi ch what is spoken is one and the same as what is heard ; the juneture, in other words, is the corning-together in time and Being- the historical unit y- o f con ve rsarion itself, wh ich s ustains our Be ing-there (E 39)." Halliburton 82. 3 See especiall y lhe now "c1assie<,t1" wbrks: Lau ra M ul vcy, " Visual Pleasu re and Narrative Cinem a., " in Visual (//1(/ Other I'leasures (Bloomington: 1989); Ma ry A nn Doane, The Desire LO Di'.I'ire (Bloomington : 1987); T eresa de Laureti s, Alice J)oe.l'n'l: Femin ism. SerniOlics. Cinema (Bloomington: 1984); essays by Mary Ami D oane and Stephen Heath in Explo/"(Jtiol1s in Film Th eory ed. Ron Burnett (Bloomington: 1991); Kaja Sil vcrman , The AcoUSlic Mirror: Th e Femule Voice in P.\yd1OulJaly.I'is und Cineml1 (l3I oomi ngton: 1988). 4 For a s ummation of the possible positions of a viewc r, not auditor, see M ichael Ann Holly, " Past Looking," Critical Inquiry 16 ( W inter, 1990) 37 1- 396. 5 Stcphen Heath points out that in discussions ofthe SlIbjeet , the 1 is not idcntical to the ego, but my purpose in equaling thern is ro indieate here that they are similarl y positioned to " mast er" a situation. Stephen Heath , "The T urn of the Subject ," in Exp!oratiol/s in Film Theory 31. A di scussion ofthe t~nsi ons between the Lacanian subjcct and the "social subject " can be found in Fiske's Televisiol1 C"lture. 6 See especialIy, " A Dialogue about Acting," 'The QlIcstion ofCriteria fo r Judging A cting," "Alienation Effects in Chinese Acting," " T he Street Seene," cte. , in Wi llett, Brecht on Thea:re. 7 T he idea li zation 01' audience and commllnity is coming ioto more question re cently. Iris Marion Young points out, " TIl e ideal 01' community ... privileges unit y over difference, illlmediacy over medi a tion, sylllp
( 1!
.1 /1 /'( . rc<JdL! / uf "gnJ ntill g" all ;ludicIIl:e.
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37
1() Lyo tanJ , "S peedl Snapshot" 133, q uotin g rro rn R icha ru I (1/ L!lIIa 11 , " O lllologicill hystenc Manifc~to J" in Plays l/nd MWlI/es/os ed. Kak Da vy ( Now York . 197(,)
n.
OD D,A NON YMOU SNE EDS
References
The audience in a dramatized society
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York: 1958 . Berge r, Pe ter and Thomas L uc km ann. Th e. Social COI'/.\·lruClÍon of Realily. New Yo rk : 1966. Blau . I-Ierbert. Tlle Audience. Ba ltimo re: 1990. Brooks, Pete r. "Freud's Masterplot," in Real!ing/or rhe P lol . N cw Yo rk : 1984. Can, Dav id . Tim e, Narralil'e ami H islOry. Bloo mingto n: 1986. ixous, Hélene. " Alle r li la M er. " Trans. Barbara Kerslake. Model'l1 Drama 17 (1984). Derrida , lacques. Wriling (//1(1 Di//erel1ce. T rans. A lan Bass. Chicago: 1978. D unl:an , Hugh. Symhols in Sociery. Ne w York: 1968. Eagleton , T en·y. Tite M eology o/ tite Aesr/¡elic. O xfonl: 1990. Fiske, lohn . Televi.~i()/{ CllllUre. London : 1987. Fried , MichaeJ. AhsO/pliol1 anel T heatricalily. Chil:ago: 1980. Gad am er, H a ns-G eo rg. Tnllh amI M 1'lhod. New Yo rk : Il)S6. Halliburto n, Da vid. Poeric I/linking: An Approach lO H eidegger. C hi eago: 1981 . Handke, Peter. "Orrending the Audicnee," in Ka,\ jJar (//1(1 Olher Play.\'. Tran s. Michael Roloff. New Yor k: 1969. Hern adi , PauL "The Actor's Fa ce as th e Author's M as k: On the Pa rad ox o f Brechtian
Actin g." Yearbook o/ Compara live Criricism 7 (1976).
James on. Fredric. PosllI1odernisl17 oro The e l/flural Logic o/Lme CapilulislI7. Durham:
1991.
Lacan , .1acqucs.lcril.\'. Tra ns. A lan Sheridan. New Y o rk : 1977.
:ot planchc, lcan and l- B Po ntali s. T/¡e Languoge (1' P.\)'c11Oal1uly sis. Trans. DOlla ld
Nichol son-Smith . New Yor k: 197].
Levinas, EmmanueL Th e Levi/los R1'ader. Ed . Seán Hand . Ox fo rd : 1989.
Lyotard . Jean-Fra nco is. The P O.l'lrl7odern Condilion: A R epon on KnOl vledKe. T ran s.
Geoff Bcnningto n a nd Brian Massumi . Minnea poli s: 1984. - . "Speech Snapshot in The inhuman. Trans. G eoffrey Benningto n a nd R achel l3owlby. St<:l nford : 1991 . Silverrnan, Kaja. 711e ACO/./slic Alirro/': 1he Fe/l/ule Voice ill Psyclwana"V.I'isand Cinema. Bloomingto n: 1988. Smith , Barbara J-Jerrn stein. CO/1lingenci1',\' of V(/Iue. Ca mbrid ge, MA: 1988. Statcs, Bert O . Creal Reckol1ings in Ultle Rooms. l3erkeley: 1985. Stoppard , Tom. Rosenc:m/ll z l/lid Guild1'l1.1'lel'l1 Are D('ad. New Yo rk: 1966. Till ya rd., E. M. W. Shake.lpeare's Hisl ory P laF.\'. Lond an: 1%4. Willct L, John. Breehl on TI/ea lre. New Y o rk : 1964. Wilt¡,.rcnstei n, Ludwig. TI/e BII/(' IIlId BI'()\1'1l B(Joks. New Yü rk: I ')5X. YllllIIg, Iri s MarioJl ..•-, he Itleal of CPlllllllln ity and Ihe 1'/1 111 10 "f Diflerencc:' fim il/i,I'III1 ¡Jo.l'It/70,IL'mi.l'II/ l:cI. LiIIda .1. N iehols\lJ l. N¡)w Y /1 1" 1'11}fl
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Pl'r{o/'lIIing Arts .Iourl/a¡ 9(2 :1) ( 19H5): 199 - 2 12.
T his is the first part of a two-part essay. " No a udience . No echo. That's part of one's death ," wrote Virgini a Woolf in her d iary al the starl of World War 11. She was working on BellVeen the Acts, in which the a udience- "orts , scraps and fragments like ourselves" is brutaJl y and equivocaJly mirrored in its d ispersion. Her d reau over " Ihis disparition of an echo" is él conspicuous deepening of one of lhe major anxieti es in the history of moderni sm, extending into the indeterminacics 01' lhe postmodern . Jr the audience is not altogether an a bsence, it is by no means a reliabl e presence. When there is. today, Ihe semblance of a galhered public, it is usuaJly lookcd at askance by the most seminal practitioners in the theatre , as il was b y Brecht and A rtaud , and by social and criticaJ theorisl s. Such an audience seems like the merest facsimile of remembered community payin g its respects not so much to the still-echoing signaJs of a common set of vallles but to lhe better-forgotten remains of the most exbausted iJlus ions. T here a re times, it seems, \vhen Ihe only signal lo be heard is a residual friction of self-reflection in lhe orts and fragmenls- lhe bricolage of specular consciousness- which is the echo 01' Narcissus. " For we never knew, neve r knew what joined us togelhcr," writes Jolm Ashbery at lhe start of the scventies, on the selvedge of a solipsism which soon beca me the scene. " Per haps only a congealing of closeness, deserving of no special nOlice." What we do notice.. however, through the closeness in the congealing is a thinning out orlhe public sph ere. T his is not at all surpri sing, though it may seem ironic, in a world slIpersalurated with information and, mirror upon mirror mi rrored , totali¡:ing ilsclf as Ihcatre. F nlranced by image, we are cmptied in to theatre. Ooly Lhe "Iagc ha ,~ bccn di 'lnlan lleu and its charactcrs dispo~sessed . Once J¡)llking ror ,111 11 11111111 t h~'V il l ~ 1I \1\V looking for a tcxt which has grown (Ii)
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ind ilferenl to ¡;harader inlhc liiss':l11inatiun o rl he plu l. Wil h ;ln alll ~m (l l1ly (I r its o wn, performa nce spreads by UeCQnSLr uclÍon nol only rrum lheal rc lO OllH.:r d isciplines, but across lhe binaries ofan ano lite, picking up momenl um rrOl'I1 critical theQry- obsessed as it is within the "overtlows, leaks, shi l'ts, slip~" an d eroticized slaging 01' d ispersio n itself wh ich cancels aesthetic disLance. As we ma y gather from the image-repertoire 01' Bur/hes by Barthes, spectaek seems to have become, with the body as irreducible differen ce. " the lI 11i ver ~ al category in whose aspect the world is seen." T here is, in t rus s uffllsion 01' thealre coeval with urban sprawl , not only a ¡;onIusion of genres b ul a demora liza ti on of roles. W hen we thi nk o f the s¡;¡¡ le or awa reness required to live conscio usl y in this world . we're nol entirely sure, in the illusory passage 0.1' c urren t even ts , whether we a re spectators pa rticipants. It b a confusion o ut of which we tried to make l heatTe in lhe si xties and early seventies, as experi mental groups lined up on lhe side 01' participants who- a fter the whole world which was watching grew tired of the scene- receded into reluctance and lhe present abeyance of the pol ítical . /t's proba bly just as well Lha t a certain pragma tic impatience, as well as lhe unconscious vigilance of habit. wards off like ,111 overdose the inccssant sense or our performing. Ir there are times when we are particularly conscious oC the theatricalization of everyday life, we can also be as adept at disguising the traces as if we were Method actors. There is also the Ileed in a state of emergency to be there fol' someone without playing around with iden tity, What's in a name? You want to believe then it's preciscly the one called fOL The theatre itself has worried over the years that making too much thea tricality may be something of an intellectual vice, as in Jacobean drama. Yet the rhetoric oftheatre is al so by now habitual , the curtain always fa Jl ing üpon the dream 01' a common language whose pure transparency would look upon a reality that is what it appears to be. As Raymond W illia rns observed in an essay on "Drama in a Dramatized Society," the languagc o f' the dramatic mode, its speciflc vocabulary- performances, roles, images. actors, scenarios-is still "continually and conventionally appropriated rOl' ... immense acti on s ... On what is called the public stage, 01' in the public cye, improbable but plausible fi gures continually appea r lo repTesen t US." T h is improbable plausibility, a legacy of the oedipal drama, seems to be requ ireU by people who are otherwise confounded by the demanding realities of power. lt is virtually parodied in a presidency with a mediocre aclor in the role, who is nevertheless quite consci o us ofthe magnifying process (as on the big screcn at the Dalias Convention) which he uses by minimalizing its appearancc, telling us that we really run the sho\v. That is the art 01' the Great Cnmmun ieator, our representative fig ure, to keep the reatities incom mun icablc . T hal il can be ach ieved by si mple-m indedness is a su bUety or lhe struclure. What com pl icates that is the dcgree 0 1' scl f-conscioLlsncss aeccJcd 10 lhe process. As we pla y oul Qu r roles and ~cenar i os, we recog.n il.c Ihcnl I\\r tlll' cOllven tionl'> lhey are, i.l::; ir we we re sillilll:t in lhe ' 1lI di\! II¡';C. wh id, Wl~ :ue,
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tho ugh it I'cd s like 'l tliul' II IUllt' '1lIc lc was lI u lhillg ror lhe auJ i.:m:c to do ," w oolr writ cs in tlt' l lI't'i 'll 1111' /c'h ". I'hcy werc si len !. . , , T hcir rninds and bodics wcrc l ~)() c h )~e. yC I no t c! tlSC cnough . We aren' t free, each o f lhelll fell sL~paralcl y . to k d or thill~ scpél ra tdy , nor yet to rall aslcep. We' rc loo cl ose; but not cl ose cnough . So they fidgeted ." Tbcrc is an impairing doubleness in the fidgeting which is a sign ofthe times. So are the convcnlions which are also impaired, breaking down as conventions beca use we see them as such. What \Ve're dealing with today, wben We thin k ofconventions, is not onl y l he specific practices 01' history, the ways of seei ng ami knowing thal accrue to tbis time, that place, in actual livin g relation ships, bu t the reification of a major prac tice ofhistory, t he dram atization 01' consciousness itsdr, which abrades tbose relationships and the conventions they uphold , so t ha t no tJling publ ic can come of il- though it is presuma bly the public that conven tions uph old . When 1 first came into the theatre, there was little disturbance about the convcntions 01' "dramatic art," which \Ve studied and t ried to understand , as we did the nature and susceptibilily of the audience. What we didn ' t under stand was the complexity 01' a convention, which we migh t relegate to histo ry, likc an asid e, wilhout having any concept of history. Nor did we have any concept 01' drama as an instrumen tal agency or power covering up lhro ugb its im probable pl a llsibilities ror the barbarisms of history, which were made to seem inevitable and, as Brecht complained, ull changeable. There were (and still are) eertain conventions we observed-like the criteria for credibility in acting, drawn from psychological realism- as if they were universal truths . These were truths lo which the audience was certainly privy. slnce it was there as the subject/object of representation, the representative body that would largely confirm itself. While we were fa r into modern ism by this time - presulllably aware of the shakiness 01' certain certainlÍes in the diaspora of collective lhought, the anomie ana divisiveness of a centrifugal age we pretty Illuch proceeded in the theatre as ifthere was sLlch an entity as a public, and as if what the public \Vould accept cOllld be ascertained , its threshold of approval being the major determinant ofwhat you 'd do and what you 'd avoid. Actually, it is only since the eighteenth century lhat lhe a udience has been esteemed as l he representatíve ideal or its own representations. the theatre's judge and master, deferred to as such and given lhe image of itself it \Vants to see. But lhat was pretty much orthodoxy at the time 1 alll speaking of. If we chafed at all then , it was rarcly in ideological terms, for the privilege of lhe spectator was like a natural phenomenon. When sOlllebody in authority said thc audience wouldn 't accept this or that, we Illight have some incipient doubt abo LIt the nature ofauthority or would be stubbornly willing to run the risk, but there \Vas very Iittle disagreement aboul the audience as arbiter, nor abo ul some pcr<.;cpl ib le unity in ils judgments Cind taste. Thin gs have chan ged cO l1 siJerably since thell, bu l dcs pite whal I've sa id 01' rragmcntalÍon . I don ' t wu n!. [.\) he OI isI 1I1di.'I'NtIHl¡( \li bere perfo rma nce and COllllllcrce meet lh ere is slíl1 a pl!f\.:l!ptihh. 1II II! y •• 11 ,11Idk ll ~:e Ihul cclw cs ils cdillcJtit)J1 lhrough
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01' a lic ket, al on g wilh slanJan.ls 01' credibil ity. T ite en lcrlainll1Cll1 illdusl ry from recurren tly Jesperate Br()adway lo the astral optimislll ofSpiclbcrg .II1U Lucas to big-timc sports, D ynG.I'ly, MTV, Oral Robe rts anJ RonalJ Reagan mo re than knows its audience. give a nJ take a few errors in the markel s ur veys or Nielsen ratings. But l hat audience is known precisely becau se it is él largely statistieal mass brought in lo being by the survey. In this respc<;l. lhe public is a fabrication a nd a di stortion, an aberration 01' the body POlil ic which i.s a nostalgic ('antasy, conceived by Norma n L ea r anu owned by CBS. T here a re. lO be s ure, " in lerest grOl1 ps" aud constituencies with in th i:; a berration, bu l either nCl1 tralized or homogen ized in the urift of seem ing con sensus a nd countervailing powers. Brecht studied t he homogenizati o n from the time of his ear1iesl pla ys, such as A Man 's A Mal! a nd 1n (he JUllgle 01' C i lies. "A man's got to know whieh is belter, a pound ofllsh or an opinion, " says Shlink, with ambiguous naiveté. " Or two pounds ofllsh or tbe opinjon.·· But even those who know Illay ha ve their wariness appropriated , like the Reverend Jesse Jackson. for the appearanee ofpublic oialogue in the economy of entertainment. We must remino oursc!ves meanwhile that the future has no eonstituency or, oespite the Rainbow C oalition, a very shaoowy one. A l the same time we kno w there is more than vaguely out there a eonstituency with the feeling that it has no future, like Baal or Ga rga in earlier dark ti mes. 1n certain subcultural sty1cs an d lheatrical1y subversive m usic- strea ked wi th color or emblazoned with razo rs- tbe ca non of futurelessness has a lso bcen appropriateu by the industry, on turnta bles a nd VCRs, with lhe noise so louu that , while there are reverbe ra lions, there a re only echo ejJec(s. "As you wish ," says ShJink , as if adoressing the dissidence tbrough lhe uecibels. "Consioer the ways of this planet and seH ." T he sclling has been temporarily gooo for the breakoancing and gra ffiti . Yet apprehension a bout the future of the planet is unabating, no less in the ci ty's jungles than it was in the rural setting of lhe spectacle 01' BellVeen lIJe ACIS. And it is stil1 related to anxiety about the audienee and ll'i(l!ill the audience, whieh sometill1es appea rs to be absent even when it is there. This is a phenomenon whieh lon g d isturbed 13rcchl, \Vho was repeHeu by the absent-minoed ncss. He also d istrusted actors rol' their introversion wbieh, in a eurious seduetion ofsubjeetivity, contribu ted lo the absenee by pretending in its presenee that lhe audiencc wasn ' l there . This meth odo logical immun ity to the presumption ofthe other is the obverse side of another seuuctive praetice- reachil1¡,' out to the audience, neither in an aside nor direet auuress nor wi th the devices 01' Aliena l ion. bllt gazing inl o the oark as if carcssing the self which is al ready relu rn ing lhe gaze. " Man petrilles a nd uarkens ," wrole Eli as C a nc ui in Cro lV(Ú amI POI !'"r. "in Ihe distémce he has cre~ltcd. " T he disla ncc p rc venls the di sd1argc which aCCllunts rol' lhe Ime 01' the c rowd, "lhat d cn silY. where Ihere i::; !i~an:cl y any sj1m:c bctwccn. a mi botly pn:sscs aga inst botl} . ... " This is Ihe " blcss~d mmnenl " ill1ag im:d in lhe g: I/C whe n caeh (lne is as l1ea r 1.0 Ihe Ill hel liS In
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IIlIcsclr. ur al kasl hil' 1".1111 11 ,,11111 1\11 ;1 11 ¡lllIsillll i:< wha l il is. Hnu a l lhe Icvd of C a nctt i\ Ih l)lIglt l .1 111111 1'1:1 11 11\ IIIII Si\\l l al L1 1i.11. h)1' we ha vc sccn the most ruthkss d isl'llurge hb l\ \I Ihl\ltlglt lhe cuncelku tIi::ilance 01' lhe crowd. which rcmains alluril1g lI oncthdcss. W hal \Ve saw in 13recht- a ppraising tbe disfiguremenl of histo ry in lhe ava tar of the crowd was a will ingness lo forgo the b lesseu rnoment o f in timaey for the rigorous momen t ofperception, in Ih e interests of whieh il becomes stra legically necessary to restore the scrupulous distance. What is enoemie, however, to the sentimental gaze. which doesn ' t scrupl e at all, is a desire for appropriation . There is in the transfixed eyeball a reflee lion of coercive power. Tbeatrieally, it has a history. T he gaze is an accreti on ofthe formalislic box o fan evolving natu ralism , whose psychology persists in and out of the proscenium, in our thrust stages and environmental theatres, venereally in the Illovies am.i even out on the streets . It workis upon its objecl in the security of expressed affection empowered by the objeet, whieh is a fetish 01' the viewing subject, to be embraeed , a bsorbeu, and adored io the delieiousness 01' the gaze. Yarious techniques of the theatre- incl udjng the Breehtian alienation deriveo from Russian formalism-have lried to in terrupt or expose lhe gaze as a vitiatin g look . But the gaze is obdura te. It is a fixa tion of sight which really refuses to sec, since it converts what is pa lpa bly out there to the oeleetable image of the metonymic 1, lhat maybe malellc version of the viewing subjeet itselr. T he secret power of tbe gaze is that it does it!> wo rk on both sides of the Cartesja n rrame in wruch the mirro reo subject appears evcn when - in the ligbt that bl inds upon the stage as it never does the silvcr sereen-- the gaze appears to be broken. Sinee my earliest days in the theatre. I've win eeo when an actor said , " 1 had the auuience in the pal m ofll1y hano." 1 always thollght ir a rather depressing idea, if not an altogether inoeeent one, ami a claill1 01' power verging on delusion . lI 's often spoken of, however, as if it \Vere a form of love. Thc actor who insists he is out tbere loving the auoience. as some sineerely think they do, is more likely to be a vessel of pure self-interesteo desi re. g iving audience, as power does, but in the dispens ation of that little power wanting to he loved . T he auoience that can be had has yOll , and at tbat repellent leve! you probably deserve each other. Oceasion alIy, as with eertain oow-mythic performers- Jud y Ga r1and 0 1' J ohn Belushi or M arilyn M onroe- we see t he dcvastating conscquenees. Sorne ask for it more than others, and sorne have un undeniable gift for gctting it, like Zero Mostel, even when they have eontc111pt for what they' re doing, as the auuienee never kne\V he dio. In our stanoard lypes of institutional theatre , the wanting-to-be-Ioved is \Vith more or less displacement or disguise in the soliciting eenter of Ihe stage, in the actors. in the u ramalll rgy, in the pl ay of the social occasion- all ofit sick1ied nver, howcvcr. wilh a pa le casl 01' .I'C'I( o/¡serv illg (1lOUghl which has knovvn, fr0111 Ihe vcry illn'plillll ,,1' d l a lllJ Ih ut Ihere is an a herration in i1. 11 is r r~'chil,; l y \Vllat FI~'lId l 'I d,~'d II p in Ihe a n:hctypal dramas 01' psychoana lysis,
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'<'diplI,l' and l/aflllel , when.: the lIarl,;i~sisli ¡; al:'lcn a tillll .... hich ~\l llfla ( .:s heing an u see ing is corn po unJéd by Ihe fact t hm it is set:1l as hClIIg II'(/I('/¡('(/' Th at is doubl y so in the thea ln;, site of "the scop ic drivc" (a dd irium of.l'eeing) whcrc t ite play within lhe pla y suggests-wit h lhe watchers walching the walchcrs wa tch- that the aud ience mak es it worsc. There has been recently, in critical theory and feminist t ho ught, a radical c ritiq ue o rthe captivatian of sexuali ty by lhe scopaphili a of this specular struc tu re. There has also been- from the ontological non sequiturs of the theatrc of the A bsurd lO the unsettling provoca tions of Performam:c Art- a critiq LlC 01' the st r uclure 01' rep resentation in whic h lhe aud ie nce being reflected, as in the m irro rs of G enet's Bro thel. is always already a deceit, another rantasy 01' perversian (al' perverse fan tasy), an o bligatory scene in the th eatre th at from the very beginning of theatre it wished it could do with aut. If G ene t's Irma reconciles herselfto starting all over agai n with the unaltera ble duplici Ly of that spectorial presence- which , instead of congealing into cJoseness. allows the "revolt to congeal " - there is in the ear ly Peter Handke a helpJessly logorrheic assa ult upon representation itself. In the acoustic outburst o f O/lending lhe Audience, the audience as viewing subjcct is both the obtusc and insidious sllbject matter, which is directly addressed: "B ut you d on ' t make an evening. You 're ll ot a briJliant idea. You a re tiresome. You are 110t a thankful subject. You are a theatrical blunder. You a re not tme to Jife. Yo u are not theatrically effective. " As for the alternati ve audiences of Alternati ve T beatre, they were momenta rily effective, but became a non sequitur as tbe M o vement theatrically blu nde red an d the revolt inevitably congealed. Nevertheless, there has been- in the fallout from the participatory ethos of the sixties into the performative consciousness of new critica I thought·- a reconception of the activity of the audience. which can't quite be deferrcd to beca use it can't be taken for granted. It can't be taken for granted becallse, as Ilandke says in the instructiom to the speakers who will perfor m the offense against it , " thc audience does not yet exist" and has to be conceived. Tha t may only be a serviceablefiction for a capable imagination. but in regard lo what the audience sees and undcrstands (undcrstanding as seeing being part 01' the pro blem), there has also been a shirt to the diversity of response and what still remains to be seen- the relation of response to signifying practice. Not only, then, who ,~pe(/ks? who lislen\'? but who conSlfucls meanings? and in what positions of language? since variant social interests are co n tcnding to disarticulate the process of signification, the si b'11ilier itself, from wh at in its om nipresence kecps out of sight, the dominant and oppressive systems oC mean1l1g. In the system under suspicion, there is the fan lasy o f a p ublic. That, too. has to be disarticulated for an audience to be constructed . For all th e reassur ing presence (and rieh connections) of an y representat ive fig ure. whal we Cct;1 in reality is the vaporizalio n of a uthority , ala n!! with idenlifying conce pls of class a nd statu s. The los5 of speci Rci ty in the sll<.:Ía ll.mler is c\)m plHlndcd hy
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Ih(; la r se o rh ili t p ll~.1l ¡¡ 11,dl t y 11 11 11\ , ,,11 1'''1Sil 1 ni percep lio ll, I'hen~ is in al! Ih is u dem a teritlli/a t ¡III I ,,1 t 11\' 111> 111 t~':iI Wllld l, hy a ~inu pI" sucli l)fl UpO \1 (he sucia l. sw allows its id\! lt lil y lc:r vill F it dlllllh a nu iHw nymous, wi(h ou t a llame. T he dra ma of lhe drama ti/¡:d socicl Ycontinucs evcn (hen. bul ies as ifthe hel1Tlelic room of the naturalistic stagc had been- from Strindberg's G/lOs1 S onata to Beckett's Endgame to the Iiteralization of self- rcflexiveness in Body Art ex ha usted of all con tent but the soli lary., the inconsolabilit y or hermeticism itself. "Pri vacy, deprivati on." laments W illi ams. " A lost public world ; an lI n c reatable public wo rld. " Unrecreatable, too, is the world which in mem ory seemed to ha ve a p ublic. That is the pro blem \ve have in trying to reimagine for perfo rma nce wha t the drama of other periods must have been like lIJen 'n reconstituting ourseJvcs, for instance, as the audience of Greek tragedy, \Ve not only see through the detonating glass of modern fract ure. the sh ards of indeterrninacy, but the misleading transparency 01' the ancient drama itself. so far as the texts pre serve it. lI ere Nietzsche- who speaks of his B irth o( T ragedy as an " arrogant and extravagant book," but incited by " odd, anonymous needs" still to be reconcilcd- establishes the prob1cm in confronting the bcautifully simple. scem ingly accessible dialogue 01' Sophocles which surprises LIS to this d a y with its " ApoUonian determinacy and lucidity." We discover, however, in the apparent absence af opacity that there' s a long way from the visi ble surface of abstracted char acter to the recessive depth of "a luminous shape pro jected onto a dark wa11, that is to sayo appearance through and through, .. ." The more we look the more we find oUTselves- as the myth shimmers in the luminous reflections-" lIp against a phenomenon which is the ex act opposite of the familiar a plica! one. A rter an energetic a ttem pt to l'ocus on the sun , we have, by way af remedy almos!, dark spots before o ur eyes when \Ve turn away. Conversely, the luminous images 01' the Soph ocJean heroes- those Apollonian masks- are the necessary productions of a deep look into the horror ol' nature: luminous spots, as it were, designed to cure an eye hurt by the ghastly ni gh t." The eye hurt by the ghastly night is- the remedy an illusion·-a disfiguring mark 01' the audience. like the "eye 01' prey" of Beckett, aggrava Led by thc years, made grievous , glaucous. no cure ro r that, in Imag inalion Dcad Imagine. The ad vent of an audience is, on the visible surl'ace of the norma! course of things, a ratification ofthe social. It should be appa rent, ba wevcr. that as the normal course of things has warped into something other than a surface despite postmodern cfforts to keep it visibly there -·-it is not a ratilkation copy righted by history . Nor is it entirely clear, as Jean Baudrillard has pointed out in 111 lhe S/wdol\! o( lhe Si/cm Majorilies (the plural being si gni ficant). whethcr moclem societies correspond Lo a process of social iza tiol1 Or desocializatio n. W ha tcvcr Ihe proccss ¡s, its odt! a nonymolls nced s gUlher a rounu (he lun linolt s "poI Il l' fil e vidCll t lIhe, the hegc llw ny 0 1' the mass media ano in I'Ortl1 i1 til'l1 Sys t CI II ~ whírh :\l't i11 Illll lllall y l)pposingú ircct ions: \lutwanJly
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p rlldud llt', II wrc o f Ihe sll\.7ial. Oll t in wL!rdl y 1I1.: 11/ra1l/1l11' \\ h¡llewr ji is lhHI mall.es Ihe sOlliu l cohen:, r ht: crosi oll 01' the soda l lhn 1 ugh Ihe media in lu Ihe muss Icaves us wilh un em pt y ~ ignifier, él tenn "w hich ~crvcs as a u n i vc r~:.d a libi ror cvc ry discourse," hut which "no longer analyses a nylh ing, no lo ngc ues i gna lc~ anyth ing. N Ol o nl y is it tiu perfl uolls and lIseless--wherc it appea rs il concea ls something else: dcfi ance, death , seductio n, ri tual repetition it co nccals that it ii> only a bstraction and resid ue, or even simply an ellecl of thc social, a simulation and an illusion." Or even wo rse: Al lhe end or his essa y on "Aggressiv ity ," Lacan spea ks orthe emancipatetl mun of mode rn society as suffering a $pli t, a neurosis o f self-a buse right d own lO his deptlu; , wilh alllhe con seq uenccs ofh ysteria aod hypochondria as sym p ILl m ~ 01' a function al inhi bition , The psychasthenic fonn s 01' this inh ibiti on, wi lh ils derealiza tions of others and of lhe world, has its social consequence::. in I'ailll re and c rime, T here is for Lacan no way aro und the splitting sub jecl, "lhis pitiful victim , this escaped , irresponsible outl
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fin 1.1 . kll owlcugc, whd hn\pll ll clI 11;l1l UI II khclI IÍl:a l. The social idea is unilary, J esiri ng f'u!'\i\lll wlll lL' tlll' PL'll'l'lvi llg suhjecl lllOVCS , dcsiring, as if s/he were alreaJy Il lIm: ill hl Ila: l·p llec IIVl.lIC plcscntation. W hat is being rcmem bcred is a heliupoliliccl l spau: in a la ulo h>gical cyd e 01' represcntation s, before ITlI th , the other therc , cach un e looking upon lhe other with nOl hing being con cealed, in his(ory, but there before the lT uth was shared: that as there is no theatre without separalion, th ere is no a ppeasing oCdesire , W hat is being played out th en is not the image of a n o riginal unity b ut the mysterious rupture of social identity in the moment 01' its ernergence. The audi ence which has delegated itself to the stage discovcrs in its fantasm ic figures that sornething has becn surrende red to an lIllforeseen authority-in the appcarance 01' community as invisible power- whic h only prod uces more desire . That seems to be related to a dis placement 01' subversion remembcred in the wo rd audience itself, the visible tracing of an acollstical truth which for all the materiality 01' theatre is nowhere to be seen, most of all if there is an echo, which may be the voice of lhe invisible power. The irony of the whole expe lience is tha t a cathartic is required. Whatever the nature of catharsis (01' th e postmodern illusion 01' its mimeticall y-free substitutes), what is being seen is desire. Projection mcets expectation at the scandalo us dividing line where pain and pleasure pass between thcatre and that other " thing," whatcver it is that it is /1ol- primal but not necessarily prior to theatre , no more than the ritual from which we' re told it derives. This is the scandal, the possible dominion 01' mere appearance. The line ma y lead us down the royal road of which both F reud and Marx speak , to the place where three roads mee!. It is thus--and in the splitting off 01' spectator from spectade, the other Ih ere the invisible marker of the aboriginaI site 01' scene which appears to demand that it he secn. And it is there we retllrn to read through the long history ofits concealment the difference in the binaries: nature/c ul ture , being/becoming. self/other, empathy/alienation, the spectacle and the spectator, gratification and desire. " Wc will be satisfied. Let us be satisfied," cry the C iti zens in .Julius Caesar. "Then fol1ow me, " says Brutus, "and give me audience, fri ends. " But we know how varia ble, gullible, alienaled , and suspect that a udience is, nothin g like Ihe comm unity lo which assent is freely given in the accessions 01' desirc. The additional iron y is that the theatre appears lú have known from what cver bcginning that in the very space of enlightcnment in which the idea 01' a public is rormed , the community could never be an audience without being, J.;enericolly , divided from itsel f- as the individual spectator is di vided in ctlllSciousncss by thc ncurological gap which is, hOIl'el'er you /ook al il, liSien (1.1' yOIl II-'il/, él melaph ysical abyss between the pen.:eptions 01' eye and eaL " 1 spcak lO 1hose who understand ," says that spectllar figure T he Wateh Illa ll a l Ihe ope nill!lll r thc ()/'t'.I' /{(I, who appea rs lo a wake, as ifat the dawn o f Ihca tre, Ilul (Ir ti1\.' \lhSl'llll' ll[ seopi\.: lime, watchin g and being watched, and lis lc llio!!. In 1111.: 11 '1J 1I1 ¡~. L'\ IlPL" , '" \l h ;lIt 11)( tl pon his lll ngllc, "bui ir they fail, I )'/,/
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lf we sometimes imagine the ri tual progression at theen d ofan ancicnt d rama crossing the abys~ a nd retu rning so meh o w to the (ill uso ry) p rom ise, we have to remind ou rsel ves. to o, ol' lhe ex trao rdi nary circumstances unde r which those dramas wc re perfo rmed. Aside from the ceremonial occasi o n itself with its poli tical ex te nsi ons into the Panheltenic wo rld, the performance oCd rama al the C ity Di on ysia occurred in a con ti n ll um with other in stitulio na l act iv il ies, not with lhe d isjun ctures ol' a mass society, where social events are dis socia ted fro m each other o r cordoned off by mce, d ass. and religi ous bel ief. In our wo rld, sports and T V- now inseparable from each otber- m a nage to cut across socialli nes. but eve n then differentia lly, witb mixed reasons for o ur being there and m ixed feelings abo ut what these institu tio nal forms rep resent. So far as we can tell. the gathering for a drama in Pe riclean Athens was (;oextensive with other gatherings in society: law courts and athletic games, for instance; and the drama in a sense partook of both, the Jiti gatíon of lhe first and t he contestation of the o ther. As J\ lbert C oo k has po in ted out, Pind ar cOllld compose both epinikia for the games and dith yrambs for tbe festivals. By contrast, Robert Wilson might finally produce al.1 of lhe CIVIL warS with multinational col1aboration. at the next Olympics, but it wo uld still be a dissociated and eccen tric event. As a model al' collecti vity, it is likely to be as with al1 ofWilson's Gesal11lkuns lwerk~a d azzling col1ocation of catatonic images. schizoid fragments, and aestheticized high finance, the additive wish rulflll ment of the separate solipsisms by which our decentered uneasiness is confirmed. As ror the ritual desire of the last generation which aspi rcd through a communi tarian idealism to an alternative culture, t hat ha s p retty llluch disappeared, except for some shamanistic holdovers in Performance J\rl. idiosyncratic and hardly social, and mainly in California. The anthropologist Victor Turner, whose studies of ritual encouraged the dcsirc in our theatrc, was L1ll il1uded and cautionary about what was cultura lly possible: " C om m unitas in ri tual can oflly be evoked easily when there a_re Ill a ny occasions outside the ritual on which eomm uni tas has been achieved ," Wilh
As if in a lasl wi ll tllld Il' ~ll lI ll c n 1 lu tité possibility or a pc rformativc accord o ver cull ul'ul bO ll Jll.l.uics , T urnér wrote in From R itual lo n/eatre: "The cthnograph ics. lilc ra lurcs, rilual. and lhealrica l traditions of the world now lie open to us as lhe basis fora new lra nscultural comm unicativc syn lhesis through perfo rm ance. " But the advance through this opening has been, as yet, no more lhan a first step on the moon , "a h um ble step for ma n kincJ a way from the destruction that s urely awa its our species ifwe conti n uc to cultivate deliberate mutual misunderstandings in the intcrests of po wer and profit." U nfo rtunately. the interests ofpo wer and p rofi t remai ll cO ll sidera bly slro nger than the benign [orces of " objectivated mind " tha t m ight be ret m'ned " th ro ugh perfo rman ce to something like their pristine affectual contouring." As w ith outer space, we can ollly hope that the energies from else where will be, ir no longer pristille, spared pollution , while the contouring blurs in the wider cultural indifference of the intervolvi ng hegemonies of a postindustrial world. There is. moreover, the increasing absence of what Lacan calls "all those saturations ofthe superego and ego ideal" that are (we like to believe) rea lizad in the apparently organic fo rms of more traditional societies, which extend fro m the ritual illlimacies 01' daily lite to the liminal occasions, the carnivals and festivals. in which communi ty manifests itse lf. " We no longer kno w tJl em, " he says, " except in their most obviously degraded aspects." According to Laca n - and here is where the feminist theory which draws upon him draws apart- th is degradation is also related to "abolishing lhe cosmic polarity of the mal e and femal e principies," producing a vast commllnity of psycho logical effects between a " ' democratic' anarchy of the passions ami their desperate levelling down by the 'great winged horne!' ofnarcissistic tyrannny ." Lacan doesn 't take into account the tra.nsformalÍve power 01' the autonom ous ego as political formation among oppressed peopl es, but one can say, as he does. abollt advanced industrial societies- and those empowered within them- " that the promolion 01' the ego today cul mill ates, in conformity with the utilitarian conception ofman that reinforces it, in an even more advanced realization ofman as individual, that is to say, in an isolation ofthe soul even more akin to its original dereliction." As for the plausible images ol' power. there has been-· in the cri tical history 01' lhe modern~ a cOITosive assault upo n the salubrio us fi xity ol' established forms. 01' ideological masks, through which they appear not only plausible but natural. From Hebbel through Ibsen to A rthur M iller. the drama of realism has supplied us strenuously with copiolls images of dissent. The masks are demystificd amI. in both postmodern performance and deconstructionist lheory, Ih e drama turgy 01' d issent is so suslained it is scJf-refl exive. "But that olher miOling. lhe pu bl ic dra l11 a tiza lion. is so co ntinuo us, so insisten t," as W illi am s says. ", ha t di ss(!n l, al on\.: , has p roved qui te powerl ess again st it. " M ul es alld ~ll J dlCnLl' 111 IhL' im passe, we screcn il as we wa tch i1. We also
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w;l ll:h liS !S¡; lccn it oll t. .don!! wiLh t hose 0\ h¡; r n,: pl ~'S~ II lillltlll !> nf \ he media wh k h scern , in Lh\..! vúry uaalc all d avitli ty Df lhcil pmhlcw us illlaging olltgoing Wilson':s. maki ng it SCCIll et kte lo diseml'owc r liS ~VC Il morc o Il is not onl y thal we have lost a sellse 01' comm unity tha t we are d ivesteJ uf an audience, for even where com munity is sufficiently loca lized lo slIstaill itself in some religiolls or eth nic facsimile, there is still tire vast sctluclion M the dispcrsive media, aerials cverywhere, satellite transmission, h ~ad se~ in the bush- wh at Baudril1ard has called "this paral yzed 1'renzy 01' lhe imagc" which is not an elllhradn g image but. as Wool f had forcsccn in Bel ll'ct'1I the Act.\', thc image of dispersion itself. As if reft ccting upon lhe slale 01' lhe audience, theTe comes " lhe anonymo lls bray 01' the infernal megaphone" o ul of the bushes, Iike an alllplitkation 01' Ihe murmur of history. "f)ispersed 11'1' are, the gralllophone triumphed , yet lamente(!. TJi.\persed ([re \Ve . . . ," as ir it were d.cflning- this prescient preliminary to the electronic media- lhe equivocal nature of the postmodern predieament. ror the new di aspora provides us in their di1'fusion , the reign of partial objects, with the objeets 01' our desire. They are, however, nothing but facsimile and si mulacra. "It is in this promiscuity and this ubiq uity 01' images:' Baudrillard writcs, as ir from the hangover 01' the media orgy, "in this viral contamination of thin gs by imagcs, that our obscenity exists." The irn age appears to seduee but it doe:¡ so by mere contamination. con tiguousness, "an asexual momentum," so tha t what appears to be sexual in the image is at th e level of protozoa which endlessly reproduce. WhetlIer or not the ohscenity has disappeared in the reproduction, lhcTe is also the inverted remembrance or dimensions of amnesia- which Lacan speaks of as the deepest form 01' memorybrought on by those images to which we turn the selective eanniness of our inattention. Ir, in the proJi fera lion ofilllages emptying into theatre, the plot has been disseminated, there is also good reason why, in the evacuation oftheatre by history, \Ve might want lo lose track 01' the plot. That repressive tendene)' comes down to us through lhe entire history of the drama amI lhe enigmas of interpretation. " 1 lel l yOll the clear story." says Aegisthus, as he appears at last from the bed of indeccn t death in the murderous rites of the Agamemnon, an archetype 01' the outlaw and victim even more scorned th an usual in his claim to original truth. J\nJ one can sec, in his aCCollnt of an original splitting, the feast ofThyesles, how a "culinary theatre"- -the one excoriated by Breeht for its torporous in attent ion came to be. If it \Vas intolerable ror Thyestes to live, when the eut f1 esh WaS hrought to lhe banquet, the extremities carved away, "with not though t ror lhe l'catureless meal before !rim, " it \Vas equally intolerable lo live with too Ill uch thought, as we cvcntually see in Hamlel with lhe fune ral ba kcd mea ts. Thc lension produces the torpor Ihro ugh "the cl OlLCO gore" 01' hist ury. Whcn we a re sumrnon ed 10 lhe spllra~m()s which is tl](: l.:ull ll ih;r1 i:-otir.: subjccl ()r d a:;''i i~
ca l. " Wc IlI a y d011 tll lil.t ulI l. lil h hlll will evc lltuall y be d is poscd lo lJucst ioll thal il is \\le are hcill p. askl'd lu <'wlllI" w. véry lII uch likc lhe banished J\egi:;lhus who, rcmclll bcl ill g \ hl' dead I1wa l 01' his Ji smcmbcred brothers, "picced logelhcr lhé IClI plo\." Wh ich is 01' course \Vhat Brecht also thought he was doing, with more hislorieal rectification, once the menu haJ been set. But it appears lhai lhro lJgholJt the bisto ry 01' our theatre the spectator has been eat ing 1'rom the same menlJ. soiled and threadbare as it has become- the items rcnamed, perhaps, and order of se rviee rearran ged, the torpor descendi og to boredom. "So shall you hea r / Of carnal. bloody, and unnal ural acts," and so \Ve do, ceaselessly and appallingly anu boringly, as if below the level of consciousness, llamletically, the whole demented panoply of accidental deaths and cas ual slaughters, th ose "deaths put on by cunni ng and forcecl ca use," ancl still put on , the feedback of the incessant fea st, computer-ed ited bi t by hit, horing or not, through the teslamenl 01' Bi tburg, all 01' it duplica tcd amI reduplicated in the eountless representations, the anesthetie cxposure of an nulling sense. Audienee to the unthi nkable, how is it possiblc then to th in k oran audienr.;c? That's a ques tion of history. witness to the unthi nkablc before, and cven mediated, but not to the same degree with such rcsourees.
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38
SPECTAT ORI AL TH EORY IN T H E
AGE O F M ED IA CU LT URE
Elizabeth Klaver
SOUI'CC: ,vnl'
Thm//'e QUII/'/ erly 11(44) (1<)95): 309 321.
The last few dccades of the twcntieth cen tury ha ve seen the rise of a significant and powerful media culture, We now li ve in un agc in which lhose media forces associated with visual entcr tainment film , theatre, ami tele vision - have come increas ingly to circulate éunong and illteract with each other. Given the conscqucntly porous naturc 01' media bounda ries, ho\\! should viewership and its elTeet on subjeclivity be theorized tod ay? Does the eoncept of the 'speetatorial gaze' , as dcveloped by erities in film and extended ro theatre and television , act ually work , given the plurality of the media culture? Elizabeth Klaver argues in lhe follow ing essay that the ' wa ys of looking' cur rently available lo viewer s break down (he isolated gaze of mastery - wilh or without its sexual-politieal connotations and offer instead the potenlial and sometimes Ihe actuality of perforrna tive interaction.
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In sl lua li llg IIll' 11 11'1'1.1) 111 Illl' IIll"lI tl l~ 'I'¡,;rry n:~d lhe act io ns in two supa ra tc plily íll g lIn',I'; I lI l' HIJll llan I V sludl o itl I'runt ul' and below the sccne 01' lite Ame n c:!1l hOI II I:. By J ividing lil e stage in thi s way . bo lh aclions can be playcJ s i l11lJ lta nc\lu~ly a~ ir still running on separa te TV channels. Moreover, Ihe charaders in lhe American ho me play to él ca mera or its signitler, which tbe slage directions indica te is aligned wi th the a udience. 1 The play now appears to ' broadcast' a re-prcsen talion of the teleplay in theatre space. Terry's incorporation oftelevision and filmic camera techniques in a theatre prod uetion gives rise lo a n arra y of look s and gazes wh ich m akes Brazi/ Fado of particular interest Lo spectatoria I theot)'. T he comp!ex o f re!alioll s amon g lhe vi sual, the visible, and vi sibility in this intcrsection 01' media comes o ut 01' lhe play 's effort to perform the medi a culture or a eross-seclion of it. By the media culture T mean the interactions ofmedia discourses and their impact on life, ex perience, and reality - a network of re lations that has been intensifying in power and significance during the last few decades of the twentieth century . 01'ten , the media culture is equaled with postmodernism . a broader term that suggcsts a number of complementary cond itions and theories - post-esscntialist fe min ism , the crisis in representati on , the con sumcr culture, to name a few. Granted that the media culture ltself opens up to a large spcctrum 01' mcdia forces, which inc\udes rhe shopping mall camera and theories 01' surveil1ance, 1 am limiting my use of the term to the pI urali ly of film , theatre, and tclevision, the media popularly associated \Vith vis ual performance, and to the enormous spacc of their circulation.
Phenomenology of the returned gaze
rn 1977, Megan Teny began performing her teleplay B razil Fado as a theatre p iece. !\Ithough commissioned by WN ET-NY. the teleplay was never broadcast on telev ision beca use of its political content, 'vvhich implicates Ihe US government and US corporations in the torture of Brazilian poli tiCétl prisoners. Though recast for the theatre, the play conlinues to reta io many its features as a teJepla y. r or exa mple, Terry o riginall y cnvisioned a b roadcast over two separa te TV cha nncls, which woulc\ be wa tched simultuneoLlsly on lWO separale TV sets. Onc ch amle! would show lhe ac:lio n 01' a Drazilian TV sLudio or rcprescnt its broadcast. while the otller dlu llw.:1 would dcp icl ao AmcricHIl domcslic sccnc.
As early as 1977 Brazil Fado demonstrated that the media culture ought to be imagined as a domain of interconnections, a multidimensional grid. W hile this grid may be currently dominatcd by television , as F redric Jameson argues,2 intersections, inftuences, and alterities occur in this site as wel1. Not only do lhe three major media influence each other (theatrc realism on lele vision, lclevision c1ose-ups on film ). they scem to perform cach o lher. Television, of course, has always aired films ami plays, but lately popular movies such as Groundhog Day and S lay Tun ed have attcmptcd to replicate the structure 01' television by borrowing certain fcatures such as its repetition and bricolage oftexts. Similarly, avant-garde thcatrc groups such as Terry's Omaha Magic Theatre and The Wooster Group in Ncw York have taken to inclllding throllghout Ihe 1980s and 1990s broadcast and c1osed-circuit tele visian in Iheir performa'l1ces. In fae!, my p rojJ.!C1 in t his essay grows out of an interest in plays that indLH.le k:h.:v isí o n sl nl(!tll re, stylc. an d tcchn ology - Ih ose theatre pieces like II/'lr. il Fea/o lha ! aUl'mpl tI! I'~'I 1'011 11 lite 111cdl a cu lt ure 01' a slice ofit and has hccol11 c ;1 c(ll\~ i d ~ 1 :it llll l lit tl1l' I' loks and gazcs Lrave rsing
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lile l1Ied io! a lld I d llIll'il: Id all.:d spcclUlOrial thco ric~ ;lIld I h~' il c rilical applka li lllls. I low a n: 1m)"':; amI !:tU1.I!~ theoriLcJ with n.:spr.:CI LO cadl of the med ia? Doc:; th e plllrali ly 01' (he med ia cult llre changc the way that specta to rs hl p is positioned'! In what ways can one meJium anu its theory be uscd to expl ore another'? D oes the transference from one med ium to another al ter or di sr upl notions of viewing? Can one medium and its viewer-positionin g becorne lhe rad ica l a lterity of a nother? W hile the foll o wing discllssion attends to these iss ues. I focus specificall on the workings and theory of lhe spectatorial ga7C and ils viewing-s ubjec l. By examining thedevelo pment o ft hespectatorial gazc in fi lm and its Ira versal 01' thea lre a nd televisi o n, r intenó to show that the lheo ry introduccd in lhe I 970s a nd still d o minanl today of a n au thoritative gazc belonging to a m OllO lithie spectator cannot be applied systematica Uy to al! three med ia, and Iha t ,1 destabi liz ing element exisLs in the pheno rnenology of a ret urned gaze that also roams across the med ia culture. R ather than the paradigm of visual mastery constructed in isol a tion by one medium and its apparatus, a better model for the plurality of the rnedia culture has been available all along in the inclusiveness of performance. At Ihe end of Ihis essay , 1 return to Terry 's Brazil Fado to test what happe ns to viewership in a si te that performs an array of the looks a nd gazes avaiJable in Ihe media culture. To a large degree. my privileging of a thea tre site is bo th artifióal and arbitrary - artificial beca usc an y medi um that performs the media cu lture also acls as a ground for it, and arbitrary beca use fi lm and television <;an also provide perfo rrnances 01' Ihese interactions. It would be fascinating, for in stance, to study the alterations that would transpire in viewership if Grolll1dhog Day or Stay Tuned were broadcast on network tclevision.
Overview of looking structures Bccause film , theatre , and television have idiosyncra tic aspects to Iheir look ing structllres but opera te as porous bo undaries within the media grid , the media culture offers a pl ura lity of ways to look a nd of vie\\Íng posi tions. Contrary to the sort o f speclatorial theory that posits an isolated spectalor constructed in one viewi ng position, Ihe range of looks and gazes in Ihe media culture suggests that n umerous positions exisl for the viewcr. Indeed, Robert JI. Deming, in writing about Lhe television-subject, argues that Ihe TV viewer is constructed by the media environment, 3 never sim p ly by a particular TV sho\V. By extensio n. every viewer in the media culture also must be 'a fu nction of co mpeli ng discourses·.~ And such a delineation mean ::; thal watching occurs fro m a n in tersect ion o f viewi ng p()sitions. a plaeement Ihal rccalls Jea n fo r¡l11<,:ois Lyota rd 's Ol') lion of sl lbjeclivity as being si fll afcd ¡tI Ihe inte rsec I i()n of la ng uagc elcmcnls. ' 1\ vicwcr wa lt:h ing .111)' u l' I hl' Illed tu. 111\.'n. will be
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in Ihe pl llla li ly \Ir Ihe Illl!dia culture. Thus. in uncovcri llg a Illultiple positioni ng in view ing, the notion of the viewer as purely passive and simpl y a cted upon by one medium can be given up amI repl aced by a perrormative mo dality in which agency, as an as pect of the interplay among vicwing positions, is recognized . In other words. the viewer cxerts agency by perf'orming in the viewing situation, by b rin ging a history of media and Iifc experiences to whatever show she is wa tch ing. This sort 01" agency is bom up by cornmon sense. It explains the inter textualitya viewer might note, fo r instance, bet ween the fi lm a nd TV versions of The Fugilive, and a lso accounts for the sceptical, critical, or ironic distance shc might bring to a viewing ex perience. This theo retical shift fro m a passive , monolithic voyeur, who is constructed and controlled by the looking struc tures cmbcdded in a show, to a pluralistic, ch a ngin g, interactive viewcr is similar to the cha racterization ofpostrnodern ism by Barbara F reedma n as lhe Illove 'from a spectator consciollsness to a displaced and di splacing pcrl'ormer consciousness' . (1 The sort of pcrfonnative modality Freedrnan assoeiates with postmodernism seems to be an appro priate trope for the media c ulture itsel!', especially in terms of the in tersectio ns tha t occur between viewers anJ spectac\es . Since it need not be Iimited to the watched spectac\e. whether 'on' (mediated) or the world at large, performa nce can be recognized as an articulated network of signs, gazes, and loo ks, or in semiotic terms, as discourses acting on a worlJ. For exarnple, the viewer has a performative effect on the viewed simply by causing alterations in whatever is looked ato as Hcisenberg' s uncertainty prin cipie suggests. Si rn ilarly, phenornenology indicates that the spectac\e 01' the world abo has a performative im pact on the see-er anJ cannot be regarued as simply a passive representation. As .Jacques Lac<Jn sllggests in his anecdote of the sarJine can , the spectacle can become the subject simply by looking back al the leve] of Iight. 7
Thc spectator and performative moda lit y This blurring 01' the binary division bet\Vcen spectator and spectaclc is anti thetical to G uy Debord"s socicty of the spel:tacle - the modeTll capitalist world made IIp 01' vast meJia extravagances that are governed by the logic of Lhe spectac\e. ~ Despite Herbert Blau's attempt to connect the high visibility of media with the commodity-conscious soeiety of the spectac\e,9 Debord's society ultima tely d l!volvcs into él sccne of conspiracy, wh ich renders the 1O spCc Lator uttcrly passivc a ll d ¡sola leu from lhe spectacle. InLcrcstingly Ik hun l 111Is n ppca lcd lO some speclalo ria.l theo rists, especi ally li llll \:ril ies wltt. h,l\ll' 1I1l"l\l it ll.:d tilm as spcctade and lhe spectator as ' X:1
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voy¡;ur, Clcurly, Ih o ugh, Ihe socicl V 01" 111(; SPl\:llLdc docsn ' l lrans late te> a media cul tu re rccognil cd as pe rro nnati ve ami plu ra listic. In 111c W Oll1an at lhe Keyhole, in fae\, Judith Ma yne indieates Ii mitaLions in lhe way vario us film theories di vide the spectacle from lhe spectator. amI poin ts to an idea common to 'n otions of the cinema tic spectacle' wh ich assumes ' a spectato r \Vho is held , contained, and rcgula led by the meeha nisms or lhe eincmatic appara lus,. /I On the contra ry, a perfo rmati ve modali ty wo uJd indicate that a spectator, as weIl as a pla y, film , or televisio n show, can act on the world. Moreover, in tenns of lhe interaction of looks between the vicwc r ano tbe vicwed, phenomenological theory shows how tlle subject, being in th e world , is destabilized and destabilizing. Jndeed, the oescriptions Mauricc Merleau Ponty , Jean-Paul Sart re, and Jacq ues Lacan give to the rela ti on ofthe subj ect to world and the viewe r to vicwed can be interpreted as a performance trope which breaks down the notion of spectator ma stery. T o Merleau-Ponty , the see-er d oes not appropriate the world she sees, but in looki ng opens herself to it, lives in it from the inside, and becomes irn rnersed in it. 12 A potentiality exists in the spacc bctwcen viewer and viewed , the exchange of an object ror a subject in the spedac1e that look s back . which might be terrned Sartre's possibility of ' being-seen-by-the-Other'IJ or Lacan' s gaze. Of course. there are ditTerences in the way s that Merleau-Ponty, Sartre, and Lacan theorize these rel a ti on s: Sa rtre and Lacan are more decon slructive of the subject tb an Merleau-Pon ty. who im plies in ' Eye and Mind ' a trans eendent plenitude. Despite these d ifferences, the work of the phenomenologists is vital for theorizing about the media culture , for it not on ly unmasters the privi1ege of viewing the world (or visual art) as a representati on, but al so eatches up the relations between viewer and viewed in a performative m odal ity. the articulated structure of semiosis. Thc returneu gaze, then, is one ofthe most powerfullooks operating in lhe media culture. It opposes the viability of the spectatorial gaze by uncoverin g the relations of perfo rmance. Indced , considered as a whole the rnat ri x 01' luoks in the media culture sh ows that the relurned gaze interrelates with the looks of a pluralistic subject not only in destabili zing speetator subject ivity anu fragmenling identification, but also in bolstering the oppo rtu ni ty for ageney, In ma king the subject divided and prov isi onal. Ihe returned ga ze coun ters theories of the subject as the 'solid ified effect of discursive or ideological pressures' , pointing instead lowa rds a n c ver-ch anging subjectivity tha t can l11 ani fcst itself as a perforl1la tive fu nction 0[' ironic distan ce, even 01' resisl al1ce. 14 Bringing t his link age baá lO t hc viewingexperienee invol veu in él play, flll11 , ~)r lelev is ion sho\\' inoicalcs Iha t lhe sort o f perfo nna li vc rnoda lity Ih us gcncra leú wi ll tc nd lO illum in a tc lhl! cnl irc room, so lo spcuk ruther tJWIl si rnply sh im: ti li¡~hl lm wllat is vicwcd .
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r¡;ccnt yca rs 1lIt; l'IIlC lll aliv Il1lldd II a). becn lh e J11(l;-¡1 inflll entiul 01' thcories specwtorial di;-¡l:lI :-.sillll, MIl:-I crili ~s agrcc lhal d a ssic film theo ry de rives from th e Rcna issU I1\.'l.' picllll'ial pcrspcclive of Jooking th rou gh a window at Ihe world, a position that secures lhe specta lor as complement to the d irector amI as visual authority over the spcctacle. ' 5 During the 1970s and 1980s theorists sucll as C hristi a n Met7. and Laura Mulvey also provided a psych oanalytic methodology to ex pla in the vis ual operation and fascination offilm. This theory posits that the spectator enjoys the na rrative 01' fi lm by idenlifying with the fllmic other's perspective in a procedure simila r to Lacan 's mirror stage. Init ially, the spccta tor under stands herself as apure <Jct orperception befo re beginni ng to idcntify with the camera's and ultim ately the direetor's 100k. 16 In a process termed suturin g, the camera provides a kcyhole series ofunspec ified poinl-of.-view shols (looks) before sup plying the critical reverse shot that reveals the character doing the looking. The spectator's gaze thus coincides with the looks of a charactcr, an eq uivalen~y that instals th e illusioll of coherent selfhood in the spectator and generates the voyeuristic position . The spectatorial gaze constructed out of suturing allows the spectator to align with a gaze but rcma in outside of the spectacle, an authoritative see-er invisible to the seen. W hi1e this suturing technique occurs again and again in films by a wide range of directors from Alfred Hitchcock to Kcvin Costner, such a process of identification , as Metz himself points out, does not entirely coincide with thc mirror stage, for the 17 specta tor does not see an image of herself reffected in the film ic other. A1though he makes a brilliant set of corresponuences between the spec tator's eye as searchlight duplicating camera and projector, and the spectator's consciousness duplicating screen and filmstrip , I,1 Metz does not recognize the possibility of a retllrned gaze. In his article, ' VoyeurislTl, the Loo k, ano Dwoskin ' . Paul Willemen makes this step by positing a disruptive Lacanian look lhe film takes at the viewer. Interestingly, Willemen remark s that a signifier of this gaze can be lhe projector's 1ighl beam reffected back on to lhe faces of the audience, an idea that suggests a s\Vivelling of Met'Z's eyel searchlight/projector. Willemcn provides several exarnples in Dwoskin 's work, particularly in Cid, where the spectator becomes increasingly shamefaced in the subjecl position of voyeur as the imaginary, relurned gaze makes itself felt. ") 111
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T hc sexuality of looking W il kmcn 's insight rccllgnizcs Lacan's latcr refOfl11u lation 01' the mirror stage in wh ieh he iJcn li lks 1!J1,,' rl't lllf1cd ga/c ~ fundamental to the discomforting 20 rU llc ti o n l) 1 1I /( \l'(Jllll lll o,o'/I I/ ( . ' , lit \.' 11Iisrecogni lion 01' whole scllll 0od Thc
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N ot admitting the possibility of a returned gaze, though . is o ne way c1assie fi lm theory has posed the voycuristic spectator as the on Iy subject position availab1e to the filmic viewer, even whil e d cmonstra ting it as constructed . This rat be r artful supposi tion has kept the film ic viewer in the secret, protected position o f m aster of the speetad e. Another way of delimili ng spec latorship to a single, isolated po sition occurs in th e rigid fem inist film theory postulated by Laura Mulvey in her seminal essay, 'Visual Pleasure and Na rra ti ve Ci nema'. Relying in a sim ilar way to Metz 011 the mirror stage, Mulvey link s voyeuristic p1easure io fil m with the Fre'Lldian sco poph ilic drive, in which the s ubject objectifies others through a con trolli ng 100k. 2 1 The binary opposition between subject and object ac cording to this theory is al1 too apparent, especi al1y in the rather mechan ical spill-offs made by sorne feminists . M ulvey herself assigns 'active/male' to the subject looking a.nd 'passive/female' to the object looked at. 21 According to Steven Shaviro, M ulvey's analysis constructs a schemata uf visi on that is more tota1izing and monolithic than thc films she discusses. 23 Unfortunately, the systematizing 01' what should have been a symptomatÍl: an al ysis 24 im mediately cemented itself during the 1970s and 1980s as virtual1 y the only way ol'mapping f1lmic positions and relations. 25 A1though Mulvey in later writings modilled her bipartite extremism , there still remains an under Iying problem in fcminist fil m theory of deterministical1y equating sexua l diffe rence witb th e structures of looking - in particular, making the spec tator's gaze necessarily masculine. ll owever, lhe notíon of sexual difference(s) itself has recently come under scrutiny by wri ters such as Teresa de Lauretis. who suggests that subjectivity is m ore complex than simply the division of subject and object. She argucs that the subject ought to be recognized as multiple rather than unifled, a pe r spective that al10ws more freedom of identification for the viewer within the plura lity o f the media culture. 26 This theoreticalm o ve better explains the visual pleasure of Stay Tuned, a film that continual1y repositions its spectator in a variety of 'televisiol1 ' viewing angles. Dcliberately d rawing on the viewer's knowledge of another medium, the ftlm 's ways of looking are based on the recognition that lhe viewer is const ructed at a n intersection of multiple positions in the media culture and not at one position by one (masc uli ne) spectatorial gaze. In Lcrestingl y. sorne recent fI1m s, such as the 8hOl1 RlI in.\' W ithin by Meh rnaz Saeed- Va fa , are begin ning lo make iron ic cri tiques 01' the theo ry 01' lhe speclatoria l gazc by dcmonslrating lha l it ca nnot be a r> r l ic~1 sy~lcm at i cally .
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111 this lil m. llw llwUl''r l ', 'IJIt I\\l II \11 Iw II IS I :is ;.¡rtili¡;iall y cO ll slruclcd as t he spCCl;l lor il is ¡; llp p( \.. ~d 1(1 !,l'IM <'(~' , hl:~all s~ l he npcration orthe spectatorial gazc si mpl y uneS !l O! WP I k. Tl le film rClHkrs lhe suturing process so highly visible anu ro rcgnHlllds psyd lol ogical clichés so obviousl y (female belly dancer, male eyes, m in or, cigar, father) that it is as ir the audience, rather than watching a fi lm , is watching film theory . The theoretical text shimmers with such opaci ty thal it herc acts as metafil mic commentary, n1
New ways of theatricaJ watching While a number of films and film critics are destabiliz ing the spectato rial gaze, iro nicaUy the speetatoria l paradigm made so infl uen tial by c1assic fil m theory is bcing decon structed even further by the ve..-y power it has had to traverse the media cul ture. In considering spectatorship with respect to theatre, the influence of filmic gazing and its thcory becomes immedia tel y apparent both in experiments made by playwrights and in analyses made by critics. Nevertheless, while theatre can pro vide to some degree a spectatorial gaze in the filmic sense by directed lighting and alignment of the audience with a director's vision. it is q uestionable whether a sustained, authoritative gaze can ever really dominate theatre's spiJlage of looks. Even in fourth-wal1 thea lrc, with its attempt to instal él pietorial perspective and di vision between spec tator and spectac1c, the viewer' s look is stil1 free to roam al1 over tbe perform ance site. And because it does not offer a keyhole li ke the camera's eye and series of controlling shots, theatre makcs lhe application of a speclatorial gaze and ils voycuristic subject not particular1y viable. For instance. a brilliant transference 01' filmic technique and its spectatorial theory to theatre has been made by Samuel Beckett. In a series ofplays written during and arter he made his film, Film (1964), in whieh a camera's look l:hases the Bli ster Kca ton character, he experi mented with filmic spectatorial gazing. In P/tII' lhn:e fi g ures in fun erary ums 0 11 a dark stage are torl ured into speech by tl l: rm:1 spn1 Iirh(; ill Rod>:ah)' a n o lJ woman rocks in the dark, !=:waying in :1I 1l! plI l p( (lre ~Pdlli !,llI lrai ncd o n hel' facc; in Nol f
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w al dl e~ a MU lIlh , hll ll1 \ ;1 Ih ~ 1ll r' li n lly lit h uI :-iCp,ll lllcd hy lite hlackll éss u f 111\': ~IHgc , In lhe (irsl two instantéS, Aec kett proviucs a lbcu Lrc vcrsion 01' MelZ'¡; l'llrrespomJcnccs in al tcmpting to place lhe a udience in th e posilion nI' fil mic vicwcr by s uturing the a udience's eye to the searc hlighfs beam. Btll in No/ I, an i!"a nic viewing position simil1 lar to the o ne established in Ruin.\' Within ari ses , ro r the a ud ience watches so meone watching someonc elsc. 1\ is as ir No t / means to display the point that in theatre-space an auth o r itative, spcctatoria l gaze and idcntificatio n wi th a c ha ractcr's perspecli ve are weak fll llctions at best. Ra t her than replicating Metz's model. BeckeU 's pm;ili oll ing of th c alldience at lhe lhird vertex of a looking lriangle is more likc one of Sa r tre'::; accounts in Being and NOlhingnC''\"s of a seri es of loo ks in which a ' lheatre' an;hitecture emerges. In summary, Sa rtre writes ofwatching and fixing into objects those people who a re speaking, a position that meas tires his power. But if an otber sees him an d them , Sartre's look loses power simply to manifest instead a relation in the world . The other's look confe rs spatiality upon Sa rtre, and he becomes a 100k-as-object. 2~ With Sartre in the position 01' Beckett's Auditor, Mouth as ' those p eople', and the audience as other, we can see a ' theatre' space fo rm ing which confers spatiality upon a network of loo ks. R at her than suturing lhe spectator to A uditor, a repulsion of suturing ta kes place, beca use the posüion of the él udi cnce provides ironic d istance from t he figures on stage, ma king Auditor's gaze él loo k-as-object to the other and obliterating Auditor's powe r as subject. Bcckett's NOl T iJIlIstratcs certain aspects of a perfo rm a tive modalily in its ucnial o fthe spectatorial model by demystifying lhe function of a purely passive l>pcctator and her relati on to the speclacle. 1 would disagree with Kathleen O'(; onnan 's recent analysis ofthe play, which well represen ~ lbe use 01' c1 assic (li.'l1linist) film theory in thea tre, because in arguing that lhe spectator is sut ured lo AlIditor's poiot of view, she instals a necessa rily masculine gaze even 1hnllgh Auditor's gende r is not specified by Beckett. 29 Th is application aJl ows ')lIly (lne subject position for viewing - a Illasculine voyeur who felishizes the f~ llI alc Mouth . Ilowever, the audience' s act of looking in No / /, as in Sartre's 'thea lre ', l1 \l1sl affect th e viewed , even iflllerely to denature Auditor's objeetifying look al Mouth. And , as other cr itics have pointed out, Mo uth also becomes Mouth-as- Eye, the retu rned ga/.C o f Lacanian ocC'!li which tenos to turn back lhe o bjectifying power of A ud i tor ' ~ loo k, Indeed , the dynalll ic 01' look s and ga7cs generated by the play makes a perforlllative impact o n the auc!icnce by o pcning up a n Ulll ber al' possible viewlng-subject position s, the sirn plcsl nI' which collld be critical intcrloper,lll As No! 1 exemplilk s, the looks occllrri ng in thcatre spa ce, cven when lhey Lln.: lravcrscd by IlI m ic gazing, are nol really explicable by él sped a loriuJ parauigm und, indecu. lend ll) und o ilo Gran ting lo film ' a 1I10re u irccl pcn.:c pll1:1 1 iU(:l\l ifh.:Htiotl wllh Ihe secing cye II r Lhe c:Jl1 lera ' . h·ccum;¡1\ sl a les
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Possibilities of 'staring down' I;recoman 's fine discussion, though, tends to lump all kinds oftheatre together, railing to rccognize that man y play~ work hard to p la y do wn t he appearance nI' a ui sru pting, retu rned gaze from lhe stage. R athcr than her notio n of Iheatre always ha ving a returned gaze in action , I would rephrase Sartre to suggest t ha t theatre is always engaged in the pcrma nen t possibility of sta rin g dowll . And lhose plays tha t are more postmode rnist tend to dernysti fy lheir looks and gazes, making something happen in the space between viewer anc! viewed. In other words , some plays generate a performative modali ty in which both the viewer and the viewed participate. However, as Marc Si lve rste in argues in his discussion of the theatre and theory 0 1' Hélene Ci xous, the phenomenological theory of seeing ca n suggest an illusory un ity of the spec tator with the ' presenee ' ofthe spectad e.33 T he spectator's subjectivity wou ld not be deconstructed in this case, but simply united with the spectad e in a plenitude. l ndeed , Merleau -Ponty describes such a momen t o f plenitude belween the subject ami object in his di scu ssion of art: ' H is as if [artists are] claiming that lhcre is a total or absolute vision , olltside ofwh ich there is nothing and wh ich cl oses itself over them .')4 In theatre , as well as in painting, the looks invol ved in vision and visibi lity are purt 01' the performance, parl of the operation of semiosis which makes a total or a bsolute vision always unavailable. To Lacan , the return ed gaze as ohjec l could al most generate the desire for plenitude. And to Sartre, the apprehen sion 01' an other' s ga7.e causes the subject to flow outside herself, not to a plenitude b ut to 'a subtle alienation of all [her] possibilities, which are now assoeiated with objects of the world ' ." Such a nolion of the self suggests that the theatre vie wer's subjectivilY, rather than being constructeu in either plenilude or v oyeurism , is more accurately described as made in performance at an intersection with things of the (play) world.
T V viewcr as 'instantancQus grid' Interestingly, Sartre's subject as a range 01' possibilities in the world is similar la D eming's T V vicwcr as an ' in stanlaneous grid ' through which a varicty 01' subjcd posilion s pass , any one 01' which may be foregrounded at a parl icula r mO llle o !. 1(, N(11 nn ly is the TV viewer constructcd aeross nUlller n us fi nes eth nil'. ;I I!I' gl'llI h.l1 d d SS . cdllca t iona l. c ullura l - acco rding to T V sl ww, sil!..' al ~1I 11I111" ~ ,1 111111111'" lllu ll iplc slI bjecti vlly lo vicwing. D emill g's I)J
Sl't ,t · IA I IIH I.¡\ I. I 11 I' lift" I N jile .\Ii l \ Ul' MI'IIIA n l l,' l l l lU cha ractcri allitln lkb ullk s l hlo! c1ai m, again a r rud llt: l u l c1a s~ i l.: lillll Ihcory, that tc1evisio n generales une, :jingle. monúlith it: spcdalo r a SI .IIll:C a bsurJl y inconsisten l wiL h lhe num bcr of candidales crilics have proposecl for lhe posi ti o n: passi ve moro n, gullible fema lc, a uuio-vi sual master. O f course. telev ision p rogrammes can foregro und a particular subjcd position. Cable N ews Networ k (CNN) c\early attempted to construct viewers in the ilJ usion of a ucti o-vis ua l master during its coverage of lhe 1991 Culf War. But whether televi sion simp ly grants to its ' all-perceiving' speetator 'an exhilarating sense of vis ual power' is another ma ttcL'\? Even tho ugh Ro bert Stam, following Metz, posits that lhe TV viewer iden tifies fi rst with a p ure aet of perception ami then with television's wide array o f camera shots é:mu looks,'S television , like theatre, either can not suslai n the spectatorial gaze or simply deconstructs i t. W hile televi sion has fi lmie looks traversing its quarters all the time, a f uJl, spectatorial gaze cannot be sustained, beca use of the non-narrative ch a racter of television 's mega lexl, its interruption o f programmes by commercials, its constant play among images , its sca ttering of points-of-view aeross variable subjeet positions. Tbc opening credits scene 01' Norlhern Exposure provides a good examplc of what ha ppens when televisi o n imports the filrnic slIturing teeh niqlle. The first camera shot presents a long view down lhe main street of C ieely , Alaska. The next three shots offer side views o fthe strcet - buildings, semÚrai ler tr ucks. ami a sign advertising snowrn obiles. The fi fth shot, in providing the c1assic reverse shot, reveals to the TV viewer just who has been doing the looking - lhe moose. nce the TV viewer has seen the moose, iden tification with its perspective is ll1aintained for the rest of this brief scene. Whcn the moose looks at an u hjccL lhe TV viewer sees what it sees - a dressm aker's model , a set ofan tlers, Ihe uoctor's office. Of eourse, the moose is representing a particular point of vlew. the one of an outsider who has stumbled into a quirky Alaska town JIIl'! I'kishman. At Ihis point in No rthern Exposure the spectatorial gaze seems we" in C\lIltrol. Looks have been properly aligned; the pictorial perspeeti ve has been illstalled: the viewer is located in her voye uristic posi tion . Ilowever, because tdevision has different strlletural principies from film . il begins to undo Ihe duss ic cinema tic l11odel. Background di stracti ons in the hOlTle may cause l he TV viewerto miss the credits sceneentirel y. Ifsbe does pay attenl ion LO the slItllli ng proeess , lhe d irected spectato rial gaze o nly lasts abotlt thi rt y seconds berore 1l1lmerOUS eommereials break across the screen, dispcrsing the viewer's l ~()k over a host of llnrel aled texls. Afler the eommercial brea k , perspeclive may veer into a ny olle 01' the many possibililies ava ilablc in the show 's ensem ble 0 1' characlers. whic h inl.lic;ates th at lhe ¡n il ial sllbjecl positiol1 nI" whi lc Jcwish male ra lher lhan being perm a ncntly sul ured lO lhe viewcr ca ll clIsi ly be t.:xd lUnged ror Na livc Ameri..:.ctn lemaJe. AmI. Il llcC Il ll' p rn~r; l mmt.: >11
is IIIlJt.:r way. ;t l\ y 1~' il1 \1,IL-lllPll ,)1 >.11 11 Inllj!. will be in lt.: rru plCJ al in tcrvuls by mllre com mc rciub . 1' 1 Tltcrcrl1rt:, ~VCI1 ir the s lIllll l'J s lIb jCl:,1 posil ion is installed b y lhe spectatorial gaze, il is quick ly Ji slll an Llcd by lclevision's own plurality a nd in terruptive cirL~ulation 01' th~ t ~xls. S OI1lC cri tics such as Johu ElI is have charaetcrized tbe TV viewer's look not as a speetatorial gaze, b ut rather as a glance,40 a del in eation that has been used lo exploit the dcbascJ statu~ 01' women lo gender te1evision as a fem ini ne medium. Aceoruing to this arg ument. if the gaze is maseuline, the glanee must be feminine, and si ncc telcv ision generates only glances the viewer must be in a feminine sllbjecl positíon. This is the same sort of rigid binary eategorization that Mulvey and O 'Oo rman use .- an analysis that does not take in to account the variety of subject positi o ns avai.lable to the TV viewer, including Stam's audio-visua l master. Nor does it eonsider the ways in whieh the rapid dispersal 01' a tele visua l glance may be the radical alterity 01' the filmic gaze and its monolilhic spectator. In fact, the television viewing experience may rebound to the filmie sllbjeet as an effect of postmodernizing. Again. the movie Stay T uned, in incorporatiog television' :, rapi d disjune tion of texts, must open up for the fil mie spectator a huge array of televisual glances and viewing positions. And Bcverle H ouston even suggests that IJle inft uence 01' television on viewers has inca paeitated film io its ability to gen erate the illusion of privileged mastery.4 1
Tbe TV viewer and the retumed gazc In other words, the television viewing experience, Iikc theatre, tends to tear up the spectatorial gaze even while bein g traversed by it. Beeause the television megatext is Ilon-narrative, assembled out of a plurality oí" texts and rapid , interr uptive play, watching is an unstable , constantly ftuetuating act. The T V viewer. rather than settling into a passive , fi.lmjc voyeurism as sorne critics would have her. gains agency, ror she is actively performin g as brico1cur, assembling a readable text out of the array oC TV images anó thus has a perforlllative impact on what is viewcd. Intcrestin gly. though, what is viewed also has a performati"e impact on the TV viewer. for in accommodating television 's restless barrage of informa tion lhe viewer's look has to aceommodate a gap, the few seconds of blaek screen tekvision generates between texts . This interruptivc gap is similar to HOllston's 'gap ofdesire' - the repeated reopening te\evisioll makes in its ftow of images Y 1 l wOlllo posil fllrlher tha!. as in Sartre\ 'slight opening of a shutter',4 the eye's shu ttcr glim pscs wltal lhe ca mera's has dosed: an image of the TV viewt.!r rctll!dl!o b:u.:k I'mm IhL' scrccn. or lhe th ree media under diseussion , tclcv isinn is lhe nnl v \1m: Ihal bCl',IllSC or its inte rr upli ve fealure anu reflective SIII I'. . ,,;C ca n IItcl:lI ly \' .\ 11' 1111 .111 illnl!'C ufits yicwcr hack from the viewed. 1 1>1
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In wit lll!::>: > ing IJi;r llWIl rclh;cl ion slaring bUl,;k I he I V vlt:Wl.! r l.! , pC J' i úrH;C~ a rct urncd gazc si m ila r lo lhe n nc proj\.!ctcd by Ihe gllOSlly illla gc Lilcan lillds h overing in Ihe Ho lbein palnti ng , The Alllh(/,\',I'ác/or.l'. " he skull allll lIJ e ~ye in Laca n 's pictll re a re also 'fly[ing] in l he foregro un u' orl he TV viewc r's pid ure, where lhere is 'somet hin g symbolic of the fllDclio n of the lack >44 T he TV viewer llndergoes a d estabili zatio n of sllbjectivily, for wben the TV ' Iook$' back she (mis)recogn izes her o wn two dimension a l f~lce am ong t he images pattering aerass t he surface of its scrcen . Thi s evellt act uall y br ings M etz's fi lm ic min or slage up to Lacan 's thcory 01' lhe gaze, but cloes no t generate Metz's su bjecti fying, identification Wil h lhe per spectivc o f a character. N o r does it gene rate the voyeu ristic posi tion , beca use the ret urned gaze, in look ing back, hghts up the TV vicwer in an expos u re th at d rives from the picture any impression of hidden viewing over rhe viewcd . The TV viewer's rellection , in being caugh l up in the space of telc visio n images, not only reverbera tes bac k o nto and alieuates her from the illusio n of whole selfhood, but also uncovers a postmodernizing ofher subjectivity. Il is as if Laca n's mi rror stage has shattercd into a million possibilities, for whcn shc (mis)recogn izcs herse lf as an im age in the television megatext, the TV viewcr's subjectivity is reconfigured at an intersection \Vith things of the mediafized world. The T V scl f is semiotized in the perfo rmative m odality of televi sion , at that space between viewer and viewed - the sereen . R ather than being secluded by the spcctatorial gaze outside of tbe spectacl e, the TV viewer experiences a strange feeling ofhyperreali ty as televisi o n begi ns 10 exert lts own form of age ncy. E ven as the bricoleu r assembles her lext, hcr subjectivity is bein g assemb led at the imagistic surface of the screen . This is why one can legitimately sal' that there is no spectator here and n o spectade : as Jean Baudrillard writes, 'al! beeomes ... immediate visibility' .45 Everythin g begins to act in the backlight of perform a nce. Small wonder that television is so often associated vvith the media culture and with postmodernism in general. But towa rds the end of the twentieth century the med ia culture ought lo be understood as a network ofvarious medi a wi l h looks and gazes opera ling in vast exchanges. Beca use viewership oecurs not in isolation with one p ar ticular medium but in el plura listie setting, a per rormative modality that takes into account many diJferenl sorts of intersections makes a bctter paradigm th a n the spectatorial m odel. O ne way to recognize this new eonfi g uration is in the destabilization ofthe spectatori a l gaze ami its related thcory. While appearing in all three media , the spectatorial gaze is also being ta ken apart in each , most c1ea rl y by lhc opacily of looking st ructu res a nd the visibili ty of th e returnc:d gaze. As p hen o menological theory suggests. simpl y wi lh the ad mitta nce 01' a returned ga7.e t he space betwcen viewcr and vicwed reverbc rah:s \Vil \¡ pc rrorma livc activily al1d with the arlicu la t.i on 01' media Ji scOUr'iéS .u:til1!' 11 11 i.:ach ~)thcr a nd 0 11 H world.
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'Brazil Fado' No doubt this sort 01' deco nstruction has to occur in a theatre p iece thal makes an cffo rt lO pcrform the media cult ure . Fl a rdly had the spectato ri al paradigm becn devcloped in fil m ami begutl to shift into o ther m edi a tha n it \Yas bein g ripped up by pe rfo rmances lík e Brazil Fado. As r described ea rlier, this play calls upon its alldience to watch from the angles of a va riety of media as it combines the television megatex t with fi'ltnic camera techn iqlle in a theatre space. First, by continuing to use the tclevisi on fea tures that \Ye re particul a r to the lcleplay, Brazil Fado replicates the television watl:hing experiencc. T hc sil1lultaneous playing of the two discrete actions - the American homc ami the Brazilian TV studio - provides él constant barra ge of images a nd scenes as well as the television effect ol' intelTllption and displaeement. A s if infosurfing two TV programl1les or channels, the a ud ienee sees, in t he mode of the televisual glance , its eyes flickering restlessly between the two actions, making al Ieast two points-of-view continually available. The erfect on watching of this set-up shows that, in television and in the theatrc space performing it, looking is radically unstabl e, spectatorial alignment virtually il1lpossible. Sincc s he ca nnot watch the pl a y' :; 'television mcga tex t' as a whole or engage in a solitary process ofperceptual identiflcation , each viewer performs Brazil Fado as an effect of her own looking idiosyncrasics. Likc the TV viewer, she has the agency of él brieoleur, one who negotiates her way thro ugh the play by piecing together a texl of her OWIl out of glances at eithe r playing area. And , like the theatre viewer, as her glance shifts and disperses aeross the performance site, it continucs to fragment perspective into variable possibilit ies. This mea ns that subjectivity for thc play's viewer must also be as variable a s a bricolage , for the self, lik e Lyotard ' s subject. is being pcrfonned at the interseetion of multipJc subject positions which are forming , collapsing, and refo rming in the play all lhe ti me. Intereslingly. Ihe <Jclion of Ihe Brazilian TV studio by itself would have this cnecl Qn lhe vicwcr. hcca use it also pl ays televi:;ion. It replicates a megatext hy perfl'lrm ing 1I11 111C I C\lI S TV ' programmes' such as newscasts, videos, p ro mn lil'n.} 1'0 1' liS ~'1 1 1 p\lI¡¡ liilll ". anJ .:om l11t:rcials. In a way th a t reinforces the impn;ssiol1 pI' Id, YI'ilnl' \ Invin!'.. lcrry uses hc r Iransforlll atio na I slyle of "1'1
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replica tes the lew s,:colllrx .,1 lll kl I Upl io n 1hat l.lccur bclwce n telcvision 's te:x ts. Howevc r. riJ lhel 11111 11 Idllrn ing tn thl: vicwa hl!r reflected ·televisioll ' image, Bra::il Fado 1I 1l1.:overs Ihe rd urned gaze of theatre in lhe viewer's grow ing awareness vI' lhe pla y's -;t ruct ures 01' looki ng. As in Ruin.\' Wifhill , the play's gap 01' desire, its openi ng of a sh utter, makes oflooks and gazes a ghostly patina that begins to fly in the foreground of the pl ay ami that even tuall y I'orms, as in No f l , a spati ality arollnd the intersec tions of looks operating throughout this theatre site. Curiously, Brazit Fado seems to instal the filmic specta torial gaze onl y to derail it with the phenomcnology of the retumeo gaze a nd the looks associ ated wi th telev ision and theat re. The play offers lhe instantaneous gri d of the mcdia culture where the spectatorial gaze and its subject vanish in the backlight 01' a performati ve space.
Conclusion 'With the Other's look ', writes Sartre, '] am no tonger master oIfhe siluaÚon. ,47 Sartre's comment is appealing, nol only because it sh ows lhe returned gaze dcconstructing the mastery 01' a spectator, but al so beca use it implies that other viewing-subjcct positions can be brought into play. SlIbjecti vity is no t constructed passively in isolation, but continuall y fluctuates th rough the individual in an interactive performance with the \Vorld . Especiall y in terms 01' the viewer towards the end 01' the twentieth century, subjectivity as it responos to watehing is in a constanl state of flux with the looks and gazes operating in the media culture. And, since the media don' t function in a vacuum, as Terry's play shows, a theory that offers the viewer Illany subjective possibilities, even those oeconstructed and fragmentary . more accurately describes current conditions than the theory of an autJlOrit ative, voyeuristic spectator. 01' course, no one wants lo apologize for the social and critical problems associated with the media culture, especially its non-trivial eonsumerislll and epistelllological conundrums. Ano yet the plurality it offers does break up isolated ways 01' looking and the complementary theories that postulate the sort 01' spcctatorship in whieh viewers, especially women, are denjed any alterna ti ve viewing posi tion . Indeed, the theory of a single gaze, mediulll, and su bject has never bcen a ble adequately to account for the ways viewers Ivil! fino to watch . ne 01' lhe best aspects of Terry's play lies in its rejection 01' the sort 01' :scenc thal can be Jeli nC'llCO. r.."med, or mastered. Instead, the play offcrs to lhe viewer a free r ano IIH lrc acti ve partieipalion in a per formalive site and anl icipa tcs l!XpCliI1lCt11.tl l héHI re ;IIIU perfo rmance an 01' the 1990s. Although il ca nnot com pllllc lv I\l· lll..'tall' Ihe matrix 01' lhe med ia cult ure, Brazil Fad, IIcvcrlhdcss lll :tkl~ ~ íl VlIl l.lh ll' 11 IlIarvd lolls cx p\!rimcnl with vicwershi p ano ways uf' I. lllkill" 1(1
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M egan Teny , Bruzil Fado (Omaha: O maha Ma gic T h eatre P ress, 1978), p. 6. 2 F red ric J ameson, PosllIlodernism , 01', Ih e Cullural L ogic o( Lale Capi/alislIl (Du r halll: D u kc UP, 1991), p . 69. 3 R o bert 11. De ming, 'The T elevision Spectator-Subject', .Iournal o/F ilm {(nd Video , XX XVIfl , No . 3 (1985), p. 48. 4 Ibid. , p. 6 1. 5 Jean- r ran<;ois Lyo lard , tran so Geoff llen nin gto n and Briun Massumi, The P os/ m uden/ Cnndilion: {( R epuN 011 Knoll'ledge (Mi n nca poli s: LJ niver~ ity of Min nesota Press, 1984), p . xxiv. 6 Barbara F reedman , Swging Ih e Gaze: Pos lmoderni,\'//I, P sychoal1uf)'sis, and S/¡oke ,ljJearean Comedy (l thaca : London: C omelJ UP, 19(1), p. 74. 7 Jacques Laca n, transo Alan Sheridau , ed . Jacq ues-Alain Mi ller, Th e h 'ur Funda lI1ell/a1 COl1 cepls o/ P.syeho-Analysis (Ne w York ; London: No rton , 1(81), p. 95 6. 8 GlIy Debord. tra nso Ma lc:olm Imric, COII'I//lenlS on Ihe Sociel)' ullhe Specwcfe (London ; New York.: Ve rso, 1(90). p. 7. 9 Hcrbert Olau , The Audiel1ce (Baltimore; Londoll: Johns Hopkills UP. 1(90), p. 58. 10 D c bord , op . cit. , p. 22, 58- 62. 11 J udith M ayne, T /¡ e Woman al ¡he Keyhole: Feminism and Women 's Cin f ma (Bloomington: Indianapolis: Indiana UP . 1(90), p . 17 . See al so her comlllcnts on Debord. p . 14. 12 Mallrice Merleau-Ponty, transo C arlelon Dallery, ed. James M. Edie. ' Eye a nd Mind ', 717 e I'rill/otv (!/ l'ercePliol1 amI Olher E.I'sl1ys VII Phel1oll1enological P.\)'eho logy, Ihe Philosophy o/Art, HislOry {/ml Po/ilics ( Northwestern UP, 1(64), p. 162, 178. 13 .I ean-Paul Sartre, tnms. H az el E. Barnes. Being and Nothillgness: 0/1 Esslly in P/¡el101nenologicol Onlology (New Y ork: Ci ta dcl Press, 1969) , p. 233. 14 Pa ul Smith , Discerning lhe Suhjecl (Minneapolis: U niversity of Minncsota Press, 1(88), p. 22- 3. 15 Kaja Silvcrman , 'W ha t is a Ca mera?, or: H istory in the Field ofVision'. [)¡s('ouI'.I'e, X V, No. 3 (1993), p. 3, 8. 1(¡ C'hristian Melz, transo Celia Britton , Annwyl W illiallls, Ben Brewste r. and Al fred llzzetti , Th e Im aginar)' Signifier: Psy cllOol1l1lysis ((l1Illh e Cinema (Bloominglon: Indiana U P, 1982), p. 49. 17 Ihid., p. 45 - 6. IX Ibid . p. 50- 1. 11) Paul Willemen, cd. Philip Rosen , N arralil'e, Appllralus, Ideology: 11 Film 711('01'.1' Reader (New York: Columbia Uf>. 1986). p. 216 ·-17. 20 Laean , op. cit. , p. 74, and Freedman. op. cit., p. 53, 69. ~I Laura M ulvcy , ' Visual Pleasure and Narrative C inem a ' , Screen , XVI , No. :\ (1975) , p. 8. 22 Ibid .. p. 11. 23 Slt..:v en Shaviro, The Cillel//alic 13m/y (M inneapolis: L1 niversity of M ill neso ta Press, 1<)93), p. 12. 24 Ibid ., p . 20. 25 /\ ny Jil m es Bond l1l(w ie will del1lol1strate lh e a ppea l (l rthi~ Ih em-y. A s Si lvc rlllan noles (p. 5), in 'T ha Appara llls : M C l.lp ~ych ()l op.J\.:<" ApprollcllGS l o l he Illlrrcssio n nI' Reu.li t y in I hL' C inellla' . .Il'; III -Lnu is Bauo ry dC'il,!ri l1\,'~ iI Ia<.:k vI" ~é p;l J' all(l11
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hCI IVét.: I¡ 111\' híldv .1\1.1 ¡II, (\ (, >11111 1 ",,,Ii" ' 11Is su!(gcsls al! a ll c: ruali Vé vicw poilll as clI rly li S 1')7 5 ( Nllf/'/l l/ \'" "",./111 /11.1. I,/.'olug l·. p. 31:\). 26 T l:I'l:sa dc I .a ulc lh, 1 ~·"¡IIIf//"¡.; /I'" tll (;,·lId.. l': I:'.lsays 0/1 Th('()/y. Fil/ll. III/d FiNio/( (Blo Olllillg""¡ ; Il\diall :lpolis: IlItlian~1 U 1'. 1987), p. 2. Sec (lIso M aync , op. cit.. p. :l 6. 27 M chrnaz SacGd-Vafa. Ruins Wi¡flin : WOll1 en in Ih e Dil'eclol''s Omir, So ut he rn
ll linoi s U n iversity. C arbon d ale. IIlinois. 27 October 1993. 28 Sartre, o p. cit. , p. 242. 29 K athl ee n O 'Gorma n , ' "so that people would sta re:" Tbe Gaze and T he Glance in Beckett ' s N ol M odern [rmguoge S ludic.I', XXIII, No. 3 (1993), p. 34, 36. 30 Sallluel Becketl , N o l 1, in Co/leued S horler P lay s oj' Samllel Beckell (New Y o rk: Grove Press. 1984), p. 2 I 3- 23. 31 F reedlll an . op. cit., p . 68 . 32 Ibid. , p. 64, 71. 33 Marc Sil verste io. ' "Body P resence:" Cí xou s's P hen omenology of Thcater', T healre } ournal, XLI II (1991) , p. 508.
34 Merleau- Pont y, o p . cit. , p. 169.
35 Sarlre, op. cit., p. 241.
36 D eming, op. cit., p. 61. 37 R o bert Stalll , 'Television News an d Its Spectator' , R ega/'ding Tele l'ision: Critical Pfil'()(/ ches ( 1/1 Anlhology , eJ. E. Ann K aplan (Los An geles: A merican Film
r,
lnstitute. I 9~3). p. 24.
38 Ibid. , p. 24.
39 Television does have its own ways ofholding the viewe r. To bring lhe viewcr back lo a progra rnme, i.t instals mini-cliffhangers before eacb commercial break. A nd for its regular progra:mming, the repetition 01' character and se ttin g week a rter week causes the vi ewer to de velop emotional att achm ents . 40 John ElIis, Visihle FiC/;on.l': Cinema, Television, Video (London : Boston : R oulledge, 1(82), p.163 . 41 Beverle H ouston , ' Viewing Television: the M etapsychology of E ndless Co nsump tion ' , Quarlerl)' Re \'iewofFilm Sll/die.l, IX, No. 3 (1984), p. 193. 42 Ibid., p . 184. 43 Sartre, op. cit., p . 233, 44 Lacall , op. cit.. p. 89, 88. 00 CBS a stylized eyc (its logo) actually appears during this interruptive ga p. 45 Jean Baudrillard, 'The Ecstasy ofColllmunicatioll', The A nti-A eslhelic: Essays on PosllI1udem CullUre , ed. Hal F oster (Seattle: Bay Prc ss. 1983), p . 130. 46 Megan Terry. 'An Inlerview with Mega n Te n-y' , by Felieia Hardison Londré, S II/dies in Alllerican Drama, 1945-Pr!'senl, IV (1989), p. 178. 47 Sartre, op. cit. , p. 241.
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39 D RAM A IN A
D RA MAT IS ED SO CJE T Y
Raymond Williams Sourcc: Raymo nd Williams, J)ram a in (J Drmr/a/ised Sociely (Inaugllral 1,ect urc), Ca moridge: Camoridge Unive rsity Press, 1975 , pp . 1- 21.
The title ' P rofessor of Drama ' is new in Cambridge. but tbat is a fonnality. In several different ways, drama has been important in the Un iversity fo r at least four centuries. It was of the sixteenth century, with the coming of 'dassieal' studies, among them the reading and perform ance of G reek and especially Latin plays, lh at Professor Wickham wrote: 'Dons and Churchmen ... viewcd this mad career to new di scipli nes wi th ever-increasing alarm .' Sin ce th en, though very unevenl y, Cambridge has contributed, directly and indirectly, to the development of English Jrama , and especially, of course, in the last twenty years, when there has been a curious coexistence of an olJ Cambridge stock character called a Theatre Third and a steady supply of talented writers, directors and actors to professional drama , where iJ they last, like all prodigal sons, they return to feasting. Active Cambridge theatre is too often treated as a sport, in a common oscillation betwcen the stuffy and the stage struck, but plays and films still get steadily made , in a practice as specifie as that of a ny laboratory or workshop. Then, in the Faculty 01' English, for the last fifty years, there has been the Tragedy paper, and with it a steady f10w of scholarship and criticism which, though it remains perhaps the most prob lcmatic of studies, is in some fields impressive . I cannot rehearse al1 the memor able names but to present oneself in Cambridge as a Professor of Drama with out acknowledging, for example, the work of Professor Bradbrook on the English Renaissance drama and theatTe, or the work of M r Rylands espeeiaJl y with the Marlowe Society, would be simple solecism. The new title is lhcn a rormality but as such needs emphasis for one par ticlIlar rcaso": I llat iI is an oCwlsi o n to ack nowledge the initiative and gener osity or Miss J lldith Wi l:'i\lll wlt n. wan ling lo sCC H bridge between academic studics ami \':lIl1 111111r"I ,1 1 y I h l~lIlll.'. prcwklcd not on ly ror the annuallecture \0 ;
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()CCaSIOII hU I ill 11 ,,;· li gl ll pI \V1r.1 1 \\:11> 111 cumc \VI!I'C IlIainl y qllanlitélli vc changcs. 1I is ill 01 11 1m Illl'lll lll v. 111 duct il;!, in radio an d in tclc visioll, that the a ud ienec ti)! drll lll;! 1111' !!,om: Ihlough a qualitalivc ch a ngc. I mean nol onl y Ihat Ball/c.I'llIjl PtliI'II /Á;1/ a lld Slugcc()()c/¡ have been secn by h undreds of millions 01' peoplc, in rnan y places and ayer a contin uing period. nor only that a play by Ibsen or O' Neill is now seen simullan cou sly by te n to twenty million people on television. This , though the figures are eno rmOLlS, is still an under standable extension . Jt means that for the first ti me a majority or th e pop ula tion has regular and constant aecess to d rama , beyond o ccasion or season . B ut what is feally new - so new 1 think that it is difficult to see its significan ce - is that it is not just a matter of audiences for particular pla ys. lt is th at drama. in quite new wa ys, is b uilt into the rhytbm s of everyday life. On tclevision alone it is normal for viewers - the substantial majority o f the pop ula tion - to see anything up to three hours 01' d rama , of co urse dra ma of several dirrerent kinds, a da y. And not jus t one day; almost every d ay. This is part of wh at 1 mean by a dramatiseu society. In earlier pcrious drama was important at a festival , in a season , 01' as a conscious journey to a theatre; from honouring [)jonysus or Christ to taking in a show. Wha t we now have is drama as habitual cxperience: more in a week, in many cases, than most human beings would previously have seen in a lifetime, C an thi s bemerely extension: a thing like eating more bee f muscle 01' wearing out more shirL'i than any ancestor could bave co nceived as a widespread huma n habit? It certainly doesn ' t look like a straight line extension. To watch simulated action , ol' several recurren t kinds, not j ust occasionally but regu larl y, ror longer than eating and ro r up to half as long as work or s1cep; this, in our kind of society. as majority behaviour. is indeed a ne\\' form and pres sure. It \Vould of course be easy to excise or exorcise this remarkable ract if we could agree, as sorne propose , that what rnill ions of people are so steadily watching is all or for the most part rubbish . That would be no exorcism: ir it were true it would m a ke the faet even more extraordinary. And it is in a ny case not true. Onl y dead cultures have scales that are reliable. There are discernible, important and varying proportions of signiflcant and trivial work , but ror all that, today, you can find kitsch in a national theatre and a n intensely original pla y in a poliee series. The critical diseril1linations are at once im portant and unassumable in advanec. Bu t in one perspective they pale before the gcnerality of the habit itself. What is it, we have to ask, in us and in our contcmporaries, that draws liS repeatedly to these hundreds and thoLlsands of sil1lulated actions; these plays, these representations, these dramatisations? lt oepends where you ask that question from. I ask it from watchin g and frol1l contributing to the extraordinary process itself. B ut I can hea r - who can nol7 - SOI11C familiar voices: the grave merchants wh o se apprentices and sh opboys sl ippcu away lO Bu nkside: the heads of households whose wives, a nd the hc¡¡ds 01' l'ull cpcs whmic sl uocnts. aumittcd to rcad E nglish. would read novcl s ami COl1ll'd llS 111 I lrL 1l1l1t ll ing . Thcsc sobe r me n would know what to
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aho lll C,)nl.:m p()I¡u y Calt ro rnlu, whnl.: YUUl:.1I1 wu tl: h your lirst tntlV ic at si x-t hirty ill Ihe morn ing and ir yOll rcally lry ca n $CC Sl'VC Il í,l r eight more be fore yo u wat¡;h the la le movie in lhe next recu trcnl small hours. Fidion ; acting; id le drcami ng and vicari o us spectade; the sim ulta neous satisfac tion 01' sloth a mi appetite; distradion from di straction by distraetion . (t is él heavy , e ven a gross catalogue o f our errors, but now millions of people a re sending the cata logue back, unopened. Ti lllhe eyes tire, milli ons o f liS watch the shadows of shadows an d find t hem substance; watc h scenes, situations, actions, exchanges, crises. Thc slice of life, once a projed o f natu ral ist dra ma, is now a vo lunta ry, habitual , in termll rhyt hm; the f10w of acti on and act in g, 01' reprcsentation and performance, raised to a n ew convention. that 0 1' a basic necd . We cannot kno w what would have happened ir th ere had becn, for ex ample . outside b roadcasti ng facilities at the Globe. In some measure , at least, we must retain the hypothesis of simple extension of access. Yet 1would argue that what has happened is much more than this. There are indeed disco ver· able factors of a probably causal kind . We are all used to saying - and it stiJI means something - that we live in a society which is at once more mobile a nd more complex, and therefore, in some crucial respeets, relatively more un know able, rclatively more opaq ue than most societies of the past, and yet which is also more insistently pressing, penetrating amI even determining. W hat we try to rcsolve rrom the opaque and the unknowable, in on e mode by statistics whi¡;h give us summaries amI breakdowns, moderatcly accurate summaries and even mOre accurate breakdowns, of how we Iive and what we t hin k - is o rrcred to be resolved in another mode by one kind of dramatisation. Miner ami powe r worker, minister and general , burglu r and terrorist , schizophrenic and genius; a back-to-back home and a country housc; metropolitan apart Illent and subu rban villa; bed-sitter and hill-farm: il11ages, types, representa lians: a rc\ationship beginning, a marriage breaking down; a crisis of illness Dr 1110ncy or disloca tion or distllrbance . It is not only that all these ar!! J'c presented. It is that much drama now sees its function in this ex perimental. invcstigative wa y; fi nding a subject, a setting, a situation; and with some l~lllphasis on no vel ty, o n bringing some of that kind of life into drama . 01' COllrse all societies have had their dark and unkn owable a reas, sorne 01' them by agreement, some by defaul1. But the clea r public o rder of much trauitional drama has not , for many generations, been real1y a vailable lo LIS. It was fo r this reason that the great na turalist dramatists, fr01l1 Ibsen , left lhe palaces. the rorums amI the strects o fea rlier actions. They created , aboye all , roOI11S ; encloscd rooms on enclosed stages; room s in which lile was cen trcd hut inside which people waited 1'01' the kn ock on lhe d oor, the \c lter or tho Illcssagc, the sho ut I'rOI11 the strce!. to know what would happen to thcl11 ; whal w() uld come lO inlcl'scct and lO J ecid.: Ihcir ow n su ll in lcll sc unu immcuia lc livl.:s. Thcn: isu d¡red cult u l'lil l:onlinu il y, it SCCIllS lo me, lmm tI Hl~C 1!00:luscd rOllllls, cm:luscd and li¡,t hlcd flll lllcd rnOI11S, t ~) lile W"l1lfl 111 which we waldl
lile I'rallu.:d illl " l '.~· , tll Idl \1.111 11 ,d 1I "llll' in Ollr 0\\-11 li vl.:s, hui nl;edin~ lf walcll wllat i:-¡ hal'l ".! III I1¡t ,p. Wl' ~:ly. ' (Iu l tlll~ I'l; ' : not out there in eL particular slred 01' a lipcdlú: \"\ lIt1llll lllit y hui in u cl,1 mplcx an u o therwise unrocussed and IIllrocu~sa b l c natiutl al a nd intcrn at iona l li te , where our arca 01' concern a nd apparent concc rn is un precedentedl y wide, and where what happens on anolher contincn t can work through to our own lives in a matter of days and wecks in the worst imagc, in hours a no minutes. Ye t ou r lives a re sl ill here , sti11 substantially here , with lhe people we know, in our own rooms, in lhe similar rooms of o ur friends and neighbours, and they too are watching: not only rol' public evcn ts, 01' for distraetion , but fro m a need for images. for repres cntations, of what liv ing is now like, for this kind of person and IhaC in this situation an d p lace ami that. It is perhaps the ful1 development of wha t Wordsworth saw at an early stage, when the crowd in the street (lhe new kind of urban crowd , who are physical1y very close b ut still absolute stra ngers) had lost any common and settled idea of ma n and so needed representations - the images on hoard ings, the new kinds of sign - to simulate if not affirm a human identity: what life is and looks like beyond this intense and anxi ous but also this pushed amI jostled private world 01' the head. That is one wa y ofputting it; the new need, the new exposure l he need and exposure in the same movement - to a Aow of images, of constant rep res entations, as distinct from less comp lex and less mobi le cultures in whieh a rcpresentation 01' meaning, a spectade 01' orde r, is clearly, solidly, rigidly present, at certain fixed points, and is then more actively a ffi rmed on a speeia l occasion , a high day or a festival , the da y o f the play or Ihe procession . But there is never only need ano ex posure: eaeh is both mad e and used. In the simplest sense our society has been dramatised by the indusion of constant dramatic representation as a daily habit and need. But the rea l process is more active than tha1. Drama is a special k ind of use of quite general processes of presentation, representation, signification. The raised place 01' power - the eminence of the ro yal platform was built hi storically before the raised place ofthe stage. The presentation of power, in hierarchical groupings , in the moving emphases of procession , p receded the now comparable modes 01' a reprcsentetl dramatic state. Gods were made prcsent 01' made accessible by precise movements , precise words, in a kno wn conventional formo Drama is now so often associ ated with what are called myth and ritual that the general point is easily matle. But the relation can not be reduced to the usualloose association. Drama is a precise separation of certain common modes for new and specific ends. It is neither ritual which disdoses tbe G od , nor myth which requires and sustains repctition. h is specific , active, interactive c01l1position : an action not an act;
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signs a mJ meanin g:l that carne th rUlJgh in iLs nW Il rigll l <' li d 111 its own power: signi fican tly orten in peri ous 01' l:ri sis ano l:hange. whcn a n oroer was kn(.)w ll amI still fonn ally present bu t when experienee was prcssing it, testi ng il. l:OIl eei ving brea ks and alterna tives; the dramatil: possibilit)' ofwbat might be done within what was k nown to ha ve becn done, a nd eaeh co uld be p re5ent , a.nd mutually , contradietorily potent, in spel:ific acted fomls . We need to see this espeei a ll y now, when myth and ritua l. in their ordinary sen ses, have beco broken up by historica l devel opment, wben they aJ'e little more, in faet. Ihan the nostalgia or lhe rhetorie o f one k ind of schola r and thinker, anc.J yel whell the basic socia l proccsscs, of presentation. representation, sign ifica tio n have never been more important. Drama broke from fi xed signs, esta bl ished ils perma nent distance from myth ano ri tual ami from the hierarch ieal fi gure~ and proeessions of stale; broke fo r prel:ise historica l and cultural reasons into a more complex, more active ano more questioning world. There are relativities within ilS ~ubsequent history, and the break has been made ma ny more times than once. A ny system of signs, presenting and representing, can beeome in eorporated into a passive order, and new strange im ages, of repressed experi ence, repressed people. ha ve again to brea k beyond this. Thc d rama 01' any period, including our own , is an inlricate set 01' practiecs of which SOIllC are incorporated - t he known rhythms and movements of a residual but still active system - and some are exploratory - the difficult rhythms and movements of an emergent representation, rearrangement, new idcntification. Under real pressures these distinet kinds are often in tricately and powerfully rused; it is rarely a sim ple case of the old drama a nd the ncw. S ut drama , which separated out, did not separatc out altogether. Congruo us and comparable practices exist in other parts of the society as in the drama, and these a re o ften interal:tive: the more interael ive as the world offixcd si gns is less formal.ln.deed wha t we often have now is a new eonvention 01' d eli ber ate overlap. Let me give the simplest exa mple. A0tors now often move from a part in a play, which we can all specify as dralllatic art, to deploy the same or similar skills in the hired but rapturous discovery of a cigar or a facecrea m , They may be uneasy about it but, as they say, it's better than resting. It's sOIl aeting after all; they a re no more personally committed to that eigar than lo the character of that bluff inspector, for which they were al so hircd, SOllle body wrote it, somebody 's directing it: you ' re stiJJ in the profession. Commcr eials in BTitain have eonventional signs to tel! you they' re coming, but the overlap ofmethod , ofsk ill a nd ofaetual individuals is a small and les:; easily read sign of a more general p rocess, in which the breaks are much harder I discern. Our present society, in ways it is mcrely painful to reiterate , is sufticienlly dralllatic in one obvio us scnse. Acrion s 0 1' a kind ano seaLc lha l allract dram atic com pari sons ar~ being played o ut in ways thal Icave LI S l:o nlin ua ll unccrlain whcthcr we are Spcl:IU10rs 01' participanl s. lht: ~pc¡; ili c voc~lhlJlury 01' rhe drama lic moóe drama ¡(selr. a ntl Ihcll Ir. lg~'dy W(' lI illio, Sill\;lli u lI. \l)H
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wh ilc tlle ¡;onv~lItioIlS 1I0ld, wh ile 1111': rcla tionshtr' Iltl ld . IIl1lst pra¡;li¡;-: ~(l tl firm s Lhem . Onc kind lIf s pccilk alltonomy Ihisncss, lwn': lll:sl:- is in pl1rl free 01' them; but this is usuall y a n autonorny 0 1' p rivacy, anú the private fi gure the characler 01' the seff is al ready widcl y o ffered to be appropriated in oue o r other ofthese d rama tised form s: producer or consumer, rna rricd or single, member or exilc or vab'Tant. Beyond a ll these there is wh a t we caJ l lhe irreduc ible: t he still unaccomillodated mano B ut the process has reac hed in so fa r that there a re now , in practice, co nvention s of isolation itselL T he lo nely individual is now a common type: that is an example 0 1' what 1 mean by él d rama tic convention, ex tending from play to consciou snCSli. Within a genera li on ol' tha t natura list dram a whieh created thc closed roo m - the room in which people lived but had to wait l'or news from oLltside _. anothe r movc ment had created another cent re: the isolated figure, the stranger, who in Strindberg's Road lo Damascus was still aclivcly looking for himself and h is wo rld , testing and discarding trus role amI that image, this affirmi ng mem ory and that confi rm ing situation, with each in t urn breaking do wn until be came back, each time, to the same place. Half a century later two ultimately isolaled figures, their world not gone but never created, sat down on the road wait ing l'orwhat? cal1 it Godot - to come . Let 's go, they said, but they didn 't move. A decade later other more radical1y isolated figures were seen as buried to their necks, and al1 that was final1 y audible, within tha t partial and persuasivc con vention, was a cry , él breath. Privacy: deprivation. A lost publ.ic world ; an uncreatable public world. These images ch allenge and engage US, for to begin wit"h, at least, they were images of dissent, 01' consci ous d issent from fi xed forms. But that other mim ing, the public drama lisation, is so continuous, so insistent, that dissent, alo ne, has proved quite powerless against it. Dissent, that is, fike any modem tragie hero, can die but no more. And critical dissent, él public form you can carry around to lectures or even examinations: it too comes back to the place where it started, and may or may not know it for the first time. A man I knew from f rance, ama n who had learned, none better, tbe modes of perception th al are critical dissent , said to me once, rather happily: ' Francc, yOLl kno w. is a bad bourgeois novel.' I could see how far he was right: the modes of dram atisation, of lictionalisation, which are active as social and cultural co nvell tions, as ways not only of seeing but of organising reality, are as he sai d: a bourgeois novel, its human types still fixed but losing S0111e of their co nvic tion; its human actions, its struggles for property and position, for careers and carecring relationshi ps, stil1 as limited as ever but stil1 bittcrly holding t he field, in an interactive public reality and public consciowmess. 'Well yes' , I said politely, 'England's abad bourgeois novel too. A nd New York is a ball metropoli lan no vel. But t here's o ne djfficu lty. at Jeast I fi nd il él d in¡culLy. Vou can' t send lhem back to the lib ra ry. Vou' re st llck wilh thcm . VOl! ha ve Lo read lhcm over and over.' 'B ut c riLica l1y'. he said . will! ..In cnl!C1uinl! alert n!!!>s. 'SLil1 rcaJ ing thcm', I 'iaid .
I tl llllk Ihat t', wlll:ll w~ I!ln\! :lIl:. I\'''pll' llave !lltell aSKcú IlIC wl!y. tra incd in literatlll C .1I1t! ~·\II I ,,,.·.IV il! dl .l lllll . Ill;¡ king an (lrd inary can:er in writing allU ICClching dl ;II I1 .l lll h l·, t\1ly all(J ilJlaJy~ i s, f tmlled - IUrI1eJ- Lo wha l they w(luld ~a ll socio l()gy ir t h\,;)' WI:I'l: ti lIile surC I w() uldn't be offended (so me were sure lhe ol hl!r wuy
110
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stra ngcllcss: tllat Ihc v ~)i ces wen! 11 0 long!.!r spl:at.. illg 111111 alca\,;h otller; \Verc spcaking wit h each othe!" pcrhars , wilh t hcmsclvc~ in Ih¡; r rcsel1cc 01' olhc rs, But there \.Vas a new composi lion, in which ti group was spcak ing, yct a stra ngc ncgativc group; no individual ever q tli le j-i nishi ng Wh ,H he had beg un lo say, but intersecting, being inlersecled by the words of o thers. casual and dlstracled, words in theiI t urn unfin ished: a wcaving of voices in which, lho ugh stil1 negativel y. the group was speak ing and yct no single pcrson was ever finCJ lly a rticulate. 1t is by now so normal a proccss, in writing dra matic speech , tha! it can be heard, an)' ni gh t, in a lelevision serial, and this is no! just im itation _ It is a way of speakin g a nd o f 1istening, a specifi c r hythm of a pa rticular consciousness; in the cnd el torm of unfi ni shed , tra nsien !. anxious rela tion ship, which is [here 00 the stage or in the text but which is also, pervasively, a structure of feeling in a precise contem pora ry wo rld, in a period of history which has lhat fam iliar and complex transience. 1 don '! lhink 1 couJd have understood these dramatic procedures as melhods that is lo say, as signific ant general modes if J h ad not beeJl fooking both wa ys . I could ha vc seen them, perhaps, as tech niques: a professional viewpoint b ul in my experiencc not professional enough, fo r it is where technique and method have either un identity or, as now commonly, a significant fract ure, that al1 the hard q ues tions of this difficult discipline begin. 1 am here to p rofess no more and no 1ess than the questions of this dis ci pline_Thal is to say, I profess the questions. but wo uld then stand aside and argue, withoul benefit of ti tIc. for my own more pa rticul a r a nswers,
40
WHY M OD E RN PL AYS
A R E N OT CU LTURE
Disciplinary blind spots l
S/wl1l1on Jackson Sourcc: lvjodcm Drama 44( 1) (2001)::11 5 1,
"[The] lack 01' c01llmunication with the other di~ciplin es gives the drama a peculiar ill ~ ularity, " - Robert Brustein , "W hy American Plays A re No t Literaturc" 24 5
"1 Icarncd somcthing from analysing drama which secrned to me effective not only as a way o f seeing certain as pects of society but as a way of gctting through to somc 01' the funda m ental cOll ventions [with[ which \Ve group as [al society itself. T hese, in their turn , makc sOrne o f the prob1ems of dram a quite newlyactive." - R aymond W illiams, "Drama in a D ra mat ized Soeiety" 20
My title is taken, with significant modification, from the sallle essay in which Robert Brustein chastised "the drama" for not being interdisciplinary. In that picce, " W hy American Plays Arc Not Literalurc," Brustcin made dcar that something ¡;alled " Iiterature" was the discipline with which drama most needed contact. Not only was it , in Brustein's vie\\', lhe only discipline with which the dra ma needed contact. but its models of val ue were those lo which a l1 drama shou ld aspire. C ondem ning the fact that American d ramatists al most neve!' sought rc prCs(;lllalio n in "'the Iiterary periodica ls, " his 1959 use nI' Ihe lCnn "io lel di.,d plill; IIY" was Ill us a wa.y 01' ralio nalizi ng a form ula fOr Ihe c ullurul k !!ili lll ,ll ill ll \'1 IlIl' ¡Jlill1Iil America n and otherwise _ My scco nd cpiJ.!ranh is f ll ltll ; 1 Illi lll " l .\ h ll ll\1 wh .' W(l'.. I3ru!>ll:in '~ c~1l1 t c m pQ rary, ir (1,1:;0, H ~
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a l SllrtlC Icvcl, his ;lIllilh é ~ i~. Bl.!l'o rc ano hd wcc II I C Il ~I\Y II ¡;d Il'x ls slIch as ( '/lIIII /,( ' anel ,'llI c/e/r allu Kn' ll'I)rd.l', Rüymo nd Will ia l11s pu hl ishcd ti ser ies 01' boob in lhe Ileld 01' J rarna .... /)rallwfi'om Ib.\'e11 10 El/o/, Drama;n Use. Modern Ti'ageIZI'. am i a rev ised D ram{/ .Fol'I/ Ibscn lO Brechl - el "ser' that he considereu a fo rmative " critical study" of lbe dra matic form (Foreword n.pag.). Robert Brustcin a nd Raymond W íI1iams published some of their mosl widely read stud ies 01' dr ama in lhe fi fl ies and six ties, in two d ifferent co untries anu in intellectua l environments that bore a vexed if interdependent connection t ~) each other. Both began their in tellectual Ii ves as drama scholars. amJ bOtJl woukl go 011 to become "cu ltural crities" ofsorts. However, wbile bo( h wou kl t,lkc up the q uesti o n 01' whetber or not " pl ays" were "cultu re," their answers di ffc red signifIcan tly - a d itTerence that depended on va rying notions of lhe teml "cul t ure." For Brustein. rhe cul tura l d enoted a realm oC artistic preserve and arti stic excellence, free from what be would later call the sociologizi ng 01' aesthetics . W illi ams's na me and th ü ught, o n tbe other band , would become synonymous with another cultural project - the projeet of " cultural studies.'· As someone wh o figures prominently and repeatedly in (he origin nanalives 01' this movement. WilJiams thus helped to ad vance the theories, politi c ~ , and methodologies whose "sociology" Brustein wou ld la ter condemn. How " the drama " could serve as point of entry to two very d ifferent relatio ns lo " (he cultural " is one of the concerns of this essay. It seems useful to ask such a question Íll light of a num ber of other d eba tes currently at issue in the field(s) of drama, theatre, and performance st udies. Certainly, the .ioumal ./V/o dcm Drama has redefined itself and re-signified the tcrms ofits title in part as a res ponse to such debates - man y of which tum on th e q uestion of drama's relati ol1 to tradition al concepts of culture, as we11 as to newer methods of cultural critiq ue . Of course, q uestions, debates, and ad hoc conversation about the future of - and interrelations between - va rious components of our field are often subject to severe reduction. 1n some circles. scholars ofperformance studies and self-Iabeled " progressive" theatre stud ics c1aim a particuJ a r kinship with cultural studies. T his means promoti ng an approach to performance that unsettles divisions between high and low; tha ! advocates a radicaJly con textual and sodally grounded ana lysis; thal ta kes seriously feminist , antiracist , and intercultural critiq ues 01' identity and globalizati on: that deploys cutting-edge interdisciplina ry mc(h odologics; a nd that links scholarsh ip to modes of praxis outside the academy. To c1aim " kinship with cultural studies and thus to assert one's " newness," in turn , tcnds to reeast other orienta tions as " old" and as antithel ical to a cultural sl udies project. Such ident ifications ca n have lhe effeet, for instancc, of rel roactivcly construing lh e 3ch olarly project 01' modern dmma as tradi ti o nal a no as meto nymica lly ali glleu with a ll that cultural studies is no L To s tuuy " unlma " in Ibis caricatured light is thus lo perpetuate a Ilu rrow, elile. a nd Eurocentril.. line 01' inqll iry , o ne t ha ( n:prod ul.'Cs c ultural Jivisions bclwccn high aml low nne lhat disavows both IhciJl ricu l aml malt:riulisl rd a líO lls Ill' prod llclion ilnd
Wlllll:!\.· " 1i 1\:r;1I y" IIII,dl .,1 ,IIHll y,.I .. pl~"' II I I1C~ allJ rcilics Ihe arl i~ t i c üU lonomy 01' (1 11: i!lolilt cd dlilll l, lI l\ Inl "ttll.: lJ dl llr,lc(criza liolls are (ypically peppl!reu with Sll r r \lrti llll qllUI.llhlllS 11 l)f1l 1.\1I1tcm porary cultural (heorists such as S(lIar! I la ll, POn1ctimes also reversing (he catego ries \,1' inlc ll c~ t ll¡tl PI\ll'I..·J\' II~·C ;¡ lid dcsl;~'n l. As ,1 resulL, it ean ullsettle Ollr concep lions o t' wha l l i l.'l~l~ ,l l l' 110 1111 1111 11\11\111 ¡Iml J c r i vu t iv~. 01' what :sch oh\rship is
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I w()uld lik c IIPW 111 III' l·: .I I ~!lI ll' dlf ¡"clelll associations allachcd to the word "cultlJrC," and wi lh 111\'111 a ll ;IW;H t.:n c~s 01" Lhe institu lÜlI1a l t.:on text in which huma nis lic k n owlcd gc~ cmt.:rge, circulate, and accumulate val ue. F rom there, I hope to a lTe r a longcr rcilection on the historical status of"drama" in the aca demy, oro more specifically, on the status in the academy 01' the associations that have been ambivalently attached to the term "drama. " T hese associ alions va ry widel y and are often not reconcilable. Drama can be both low and high, coníextllaJ ized or de-contextual ized, commerci al or avan t-garde, remin ized or masculinized, literary or unliterary, cultured or cultural, a tex t or an evento practical or impractical, more fake or more real, depending upon the Iegitimating or delegitimating context. Within literary studies, drama's associations have be en plotted along such contradictory axes, and it is al on g these axes that Robert Brustein's essay also t urns. The essay is perhaps mo::;t useful as an index ofthe kind ofavail a ble metaphors and unprocessed lropes characteristie 01' such exegeses. Brustein accuses dramatists of being too "anxio us lo please," of going for "c!imactic emotional effects,"' 01' deve10ping an "unsavo ry reputation through [urama's] alliance with lhe ma rket place," and of having a "tainted imagination" (247. 248). In a characteristically contradictory relationship to European legacies, he manages to accu se Am erican dramatists both of being less distinguished than European pla y wrights and, at the same time. of catering to cosmopolita n in flu ences. Brustein perhaps made a correel assessment in recogn izing that detachment from the realm 01' Iiterary proJuelion and its wo rld of "Iiterary periodical s" would threaten the status of drama as a legitimated cultural formo As John G uillory writes in his study of cultural capital in the university humanities curriculum, " An individual's judgment that a work is great does nothing in itself to preserve that work. unless that judgment is made in a certa,in institutional contexto a setting in which it is possible to insure the reprodUclio¡¡ ofthe work, its continual reintroduction to generations 01' rcaders" (28). When Brustein worried a bout whether drama was or was not literature, he was effectively worrying about whcther drama \Vas or \Vas not " Culture" in a particular, crcdib1c formo I n so doing, he rciteratcd concerns about drama"s iIIegitimate status in a process 01' accllltllration, arguments that had shadowed the cur ricular position 01' drama in the aeademy for more than half a century. The terms of Brustein's argument further employed a national division to support a hierarchy of cultural capital, shoring up the Iiterary legitimacy of drama in general by renouncing its "bastard" Ame rican offspring (Smith). The struc tme 01' sLlch an argulllent would be repeated in our field as various drama sch olarii cngagc.L1 in a na tio nali st process of internal self- splintering - sub ordin¡llill g A f'rií,;;tIl-A lllcr i\.:al1 d ra ma lo American dra ma . 1mb to English, drama fro m comp lete Lnglish (o l:rC lldl i l l P II II;I h ) ':ave Sl)me aspecl li!l:ral y ¡1Il\lIl1 il; .
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Arouml the turn 01' Lbc lwenticl h ccntury. lhe CUIICl'plor "Iilcrallln.:"' COI1 solidated as a curricular and pro lc ssional catcgo ry. Lilcl'ary crcdibilil y was determined by the dcgree to wh ich a pedagogic text fu lfillcd the sometilllcs nebulous but persistcnt standards of a humanist li beral culLurc, one that so ughl to secure a position within a U.S. uni versity system increasingly preoccupico with utility , with technical kno wledge, a no with the paradif,'111 s 01' scicnlifk inquiry. As Laurence Veysey has argued in The Emergence oJ ¡he American Unillersity, the la tter borrowcd a revised version 01' a G crlllanic model in which lines of inquiry were made more rigorous by installing th em within lhe conven tions of scien tifi c research. So me ea rly literary scholars worked lo ada pt philological Illethods to Illa ke literature into a science an d to promote an cthic oI' literary research whose cons tructed sense of " rigor" we li vc with , in different form, today. More pern icious fo r the sla tus o fliterature , howcver. were the el'rccts o f industriaJ ization, a rising business class, and a distrust of intellectualism; this milieu produced a concem for practica lit y and " real world" sensibilities in higher education, one that da ngerously positioned liter at Ure within the realm of non-utility. Reacting withjn and against both " the German method" and a hyper-practical emphasis that threatened to divest higher education o f a " spiritllal " dimensi on, scholars of literature joined promoters of " liberal culture" to arglle for the preserva tion of a hi gher
.,lal tl S us li lcr .. IIII ~· 111,11 wa· 111 11 quil c' hll'lat uH!, a hUl1lanisl r~1 rn l lhal , by virl lH.! !,)fÍls síll 1' 1,11 11111 WII I1 Ihe j11aclk:ul." made il nol qlli h! hUlllanisl after all. Ácade ll1ic prolllllll' l:- 0 1 Illcal l'l' rl:spondcd to thjs limin a lily in varied an d ol'ten contraJiclory ways. Wlt ilc SOIllC, such as Lric Bentley, crea ted com pcnsatory argulllcnts ro r dra ma wilhin accepted literal]' calegories, others rcversed Ihe terms ofv alue to characterize dra ma as a rugged , masculine pu r suit lhat countered the faslidious preoecupations of the lilerary reading room. Indecd, Brustein 's corpus can be secn a s a constant ride over a di savowed am bivalence. Whi le his 1959 essay on Am erican plays aspires to make the cultural position o f a "man of the th eatre" eq uivalent lo t ha t of the " man of letters," other essays and speeches would find it more cxped ient to emphasize the numerous ways in wh ich theatre diffc red from lhe convcn tion s oflettered transmission and literary pedagogy. Th is vacill a ti on is symploma tic of per va sive c1assed and gendered patterns in quests for cultural legitimacy. Wh ile certain circumstances prompt legitimators to invoke classed cultural hierar chies unproblematically, other contexts prompt some of the samc proponents to condemn such standard s as feminized , as judgments and preoccupations derived from the prescriptive and peripheral tastes or a feminim: imagination .
human character, shaped " by the deliberate choice ol' whatevcr is no ble and heJpful. " The man of culture was " positive, but reverent ... chastened in man ners and voice. " [ ... ] IIe possessed brcadth : " breadth of understanding and learning, breadth of sensibility and artistic feeling; breadth, both 01' aspiration and endeavor - of defer ence and charity." (Veysey 186) As Veyscy concludes, " [a]n aesthetic, a moral and a tacit social code were a.!1 to be found interming1ed in the conception of culture as it existed in Amer ican academic circles of the late nineteenth centur y" (191 ). 2 Brustein 's 1950s articulation was thus embedded in this concept 01' cul ture, chastising t he vulgar sensibility of AmerÍl:an drama for not aspiring lo Arnoldian goals. F urthermore, when he criticized d ramatists for pandering to crowds or for sullyin g the thcatre with the rorces 01' economic rathcr th a n cultural capital , he resuscitated the anti-utility arguments of carly cul tural dissidents, condemning the effects of the "real-world" ethos 01' Amcrican b usi ness on thc prod ucts o l' cullu re. Brustein 's essay eondemn s only America n drama: howcver. d rama 's rea l-world ness and ma nifest cnmeshment in économic relation s had made ils academ ic sta t us a s " literaturc" (lha l is, as "Cult ure") shak y fo r q uite some time. IndecJ , lhe sign ifican l aspcut ofmoJcrn dra ma . inilia ll y ca ll eo ''tlrama ol her tha n I\hukcspcarc " in a I II.)~ i l a nl Iil~rary <.:urricuhllTl, wa:; il :- equivoca l
In the 1950s, gentlemanly notions of liberal culture only vaguely represented the field of literary studies as it was being practiced a nd legitimated in the university at t he time. By mid-century, the English methods of "practical criticism " and the American practices of " new criticism " had penetrated most English departments on both sides of the Atlantic, working to replacc neb ulous. belletristic notions of cultured literature wilh a method 01' rigorous " close reading" and decontextuali zed explication. New Criticism argued for literature less as the moral vehicle of liberal culture than as an object whose understanding required a formalized method of expert reading, one whose feats 01' interpretation matched lhe rigor . difficulty, and degree of specializa tion found in scientific research. Teny Eagleton isolates " the brisk, blood less" prosc of 1. A. R ichards as th e most extreme 01' new critical originators: " Far from questionjng lhe alienated view of science as a purely instrumental , neutrally ' referentia l' affair, [Richards] subscribes to this positivist fantasy" (39). New criticism thus served as a mid-cen tury response to the consolida tion of a so-called Germanic research uni versity, fending off accusations 01' literary fuzziness by formalizing its study. W hiJc new critical practitioners such as .I ohn Crowe Ransom , Cleanth Brooks. R . P. Blackmur, and William Empson va ned in tone and perspective. they generally conceived IiteTature moSI idea ll y cmnod icu in poctry - as a " self-enclosed object" to be deci p hered hy "1 "lo! "t u¡! hcsl, 111\1:; \ ha nl-headed lechniques o f critical di ssecti on" (r;
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open ed lhe J oors 01' Engli sh u nd Nu r1h t\ ml:r il:an ull i vé r::; ili~s tD a ""ricd sl uJ e nt population , hu rna nilies professors haJ to J ev isl: widl:r rne thods 01' cultural dissernination. In such l contexl , as bolh J ohn G uillory a nJ Gem id G raffhave no ted , the text-focused , geniu s-lrack ing methods ofnew cril icism maJe for ea sy syllabificati on a nd efflci ent Iecturing, allowing t.he prot cs~ i ll g of literature to fil more easily within a m an aged un iversity co ncemcd Lhat ils c urrículum " sea le" to mee t the dem and s 01' a n incrcasingl y largc, am I prc sumably unlettered , c1 ien tele. The trajectory of th is "critical technocrac) ,. ad vanceJ an ot her level with the struduralist d evelopments ol'''genre c ri ticism." m ost l'a mously and fonn a tively embodied in the wor k o í' No rt hro p Frye. His A f/ alomy ol Crilicism (1 967) incorporateJ a ci rcu m scribed oo tion 01' li terary history into new c ritical formalism , Jevelopi ng an el abora te systcll1 o f cal cgories in which to place each instance of literary production. Signi ficanlly, this system expelled "any history other than literary history: Iiterary works are made out of other literary works, no t out 01' any material externa l 10 Lhc literary system itself" (Eagleton 80). Frye's genre criticism - and tbe genre criticism that wo uld fo llow - thus had the satisfying character 01' scicnti fi c anJ historical paradigms while, at the same time, severely limiting the contcnl and character of the history it bWlIght to bear. Sorne miJ-century critics - such as Clea nth B rooks a nJ, to sorne extel1l, F rie Bentley - worked to situate the drama within the legit im ating structllres oC new critical frameworks. 01' lhe formative new critics, Brooks's scbola rsh ip an d textbooks perhaps best exemplify new critical analyses of " the d rama" and "the Jramatic. " A comparison of textbooks such as Unders/anding Poetr¡', An Approach lO L ileralure, and Understanding Drama demonstrates th is circurnscribed critica] sphere, one that located drama in a relational fiel J that measured its dista nce from poetry. Brooks and Robert B. Heilma n 's Underslanding Drama (1 948) diviJes its table of contents into "Problems 01' the Drama," " Simpler Types," " More M at ure Types, " and "Special Stuilics in the Tragic MoJe, " whereas Brooks anJ R obert Penn Warren's Understand ing Poell)' (1960) divides chapters under far more secure categories such ,1<; " Narrative Poems," "Descriptive Poems," "Metrics," "Tone," anJ "Ima.gcry." " Problems of the D rama" also inc\udes extended essa ys that compare d ranw to "other literary forms" in order to recount the " vast amount o f materia lN accessible to fiction and poetry [that] are not accessible to dra ma " (Broob and Heilman 24). UnderSlanding Poelry, on the other ha nd, includes no such comparative essays and seems not to need refcrcnces to ol her genres lo scrw as illuminating counterpoint. Under such frames, the funJamentals ofdra m
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l."ircu la lc\1 ~SS , IV'i ,1",1 hll\I~.:i 1I 11 ~ 1 ,1 Id a led illllstrati()" 01' a "liJ -¡;Cn lury dru l1Iatic di SCf'lIhC 11I 1 ~' 111.. , in " ""IY wa ys Ill ixcu tire la ng ua ge 01' cultural ~a piw l wi th fin: 1II IIgIIllgU 111 IlCW u i t i~is m 1"01' selr-I egilimalion. In "fIJe P/ily wriKht as /'h il/!, ('/" ( 1946). lú r l'xam plc, l:kn tley dc pl oys the dis pa raging tones of Arnoldi an cultural analysis, lamcnting tha t "drama as a high art has appearcd only sporadically" (75) and quoting Bemard Shaw' s statem ent th a l "[l]he th ea ter is ahvays at a low ebb" (xix) . Echo ing and an ticipating Ro bert Brustein and others. Benf /cy candemns the debased eo ntextua lity ol'the lhea tre - its commercialism , its aud ience rela lio ns - as well as tlle particular d ebase ment of America n theatre 's "Iow ebb." A t the sallle time, Ben tley co uld be foun d justifying his approach to drama b y invoking new critica l language. He opposes himself to those who [hold] that a good play is nol a thi ng that can profitably be examined in J e tail and that criticism ol' great drama is thererore frui t less 01' illlpossi ble. M y own convicti o n is that any good thing is él very good thing a nd tha l any good work of ar t can bear the closest scrutiny. The better, the c1oser. (xxii) Bentley's references to " close reading" anJ 10 lhe kinds of "scrutiny" associ ated with practical anJ new criticism suggest how fully a type o f form al ist appeal could Iegitimate a m id-century critical endeavor. O ther acaJemic promoters of drama addressed the funda mental ways in wh ich new critical methoJs altered both the object ofliterature and the con cept 01' cultural ca pital. W ritten in 1952, John Gassner's peremptorily titled essay " There Is No American Drama" exe m pli fies a much more suspiciolls response , as \VeH as the anxieties that circulated around theatre's institution alization at mid-centu ry . 1 will focus on it at length beca use sueh anxieties will also help to foreground an alternate genealogy between drama and cultural studies. Like Brustein, G assner chose American drama's equjvol:al status as t he basis for a lengthier med itation on c ultural hierarch y. However, by explo ring lhe disconnect between new cri tical models and lhe examples of American drama, the thrust ofhis argumcnt takes a much Jiffercnt direction. H e cites, for inslance, the political commitmcnt 01' drama in the twenties and thirties. an avoweJ contextuality that rcsists the decontextualizeJ strategies of new critical interpretations. He continues, moreover, by reciting all 01' the associations that have c1ung to the Jrama ever since the project 01' litcrary Icgitima tioll began in the academy. His ardor suggests bis own intern a liz a tio n of l be di1eI1l Ill
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Wit hi n th is provisional accepta nce 01' a d ebased conuition , Gassner never theless wor ks to deve)op a reverse snobbery as él kind of defense. H e re pl ica tes conte mporaneo us attacks on the new critieism by invoki ng th e th rea t of its "European orienlation. " rcproducing a 1950s critique of E uro pean ization in much the same way lhat earlie r sch olars in voked lhe threat of Germa nification in the study o f litera tu re. For Gassn er, T. S. Elio l fi gured prom inently in tbis orientati on: "I [ is E uropean mm Eliot-sponsored a ri stocratic traditio nalism cum erstwhile a ris tocratic so ut hern agra rianism lra nsposed into the key o f so-called New Criticism" (25). Gassner, however, was more than knee-j erked ly dismissive of new criti cism , rightl y anticí pating a para digmatic shift in litera ry st ud ies that would not bode well for A merican drama: The charges they m ake directl y and by im plication are serious and should be received seriously. T hey are important, too , because the attitude they rcveal m ay well pervade the ed ucated members of an entire general ion upon which the fate of any significant theatre we may have in the 1950's will largely dependo (84) Gassner, in fae L agreed with new critical objections even as he tried to argue from a different position. "The new criticism," he continues, " is often so acute that it must be respected, but so sweeping in its condemnation of American dra ma that it must be re futed " ("Answer" 59). Gassner made the choice lo refute not by arguing for American drama within new critical paradigms bUl by arguing that such paradigms cOllld not track the signifkant interre1ations 01' the American theatrical event. lndeed, he went so far as to suggest thal adherence to new critical principIes would compromise the " Al1lerieanism " ofthat event. To subscribe to this d ominant parudigm, an adherence em bod ied in the figure of Eric Bentley, whom G assner calls " the most Europeanizcd 01' the critics" ("No American Drama" 24), would be to " reject everything that has been distinctly American in our playwriting" CAnswer" 60). Imagin ing over-culti va ted playwrights writing " \Vith lhe fastidiousness, ¡he menta l discipline, the refined or sharpened taste" of a new critical sensibility, he issues dire warnings for American playw rights: Let them make fu1l use o l' t he vario us dev ices of" irolly," t IJe various LypeS o f"ambigu ity" disc ussed by Willi am Empson , the rnu lli ple Icvels nf meani ng so lllJeptly ferreted o ut in recent lil crary sludics I ... I My SU~piCIOIl, as al rC<.ldy :>la 100, is lhal Ihe n.:s "ll ~ will hl: ra lher
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D rama both chal1enged prevailing conceptions of c ulture and provided an al1-too literal illustration of them . Hcncc, drama's promotcrs could be found defending and critiqu ing the sarne ta rgets , expediently taking up positions in one eontext and just as exped ientl y dropping the sa me posüions in anolher. John Gassncr's alternati ve cultura l argument was st ill hampered by its defen sive posture towa rd new criticism , one that homogenized the movcmcl1 L equated all its thinkers, and refused to redd carefully between the lines of a text li ke Wi l1iam Empson 's Seven Type.\· o/ Ambiguily for the open readings and savvy awarencss of social context that others would find. Gassner's a rg u me nt was also ham pered by its defensive posture toward Europeaniza1io n . Such reductions - in which available terms of delegi timation are invoked ahistorica lly a nd \vithout restraint - appear frequently io polemical enCOllll ters where something is at stake. The blind spots created by such rheto rical. conceptuaL and nationalist moves are unfortunate for a nllmber of reaso n ~ . Most significantly for the purposes ofthis essay, they would keep su eh academi~ promoters of d rama from recognjzing a relatcd intellectual developm enl happening over in England, one that, had its importation happened sooner or d ifferently, might have posi t ioned drama as a linehpin in the tran sforma tion from the study of literature to the illn o vations 01' cultural studies. I ntlecd , to reread the insights, defenses, il1uminations, and confusions ofmid-cen tu ry drama criticism is to discern the stops ami starts 01' a theatre-to-cllltlln: genealogy. F rancis Fergusson, for instance - perhaps one of the more insightful a m] widely rcad drama critics of the period engaged con lemporaneolls moclcls of litcratu re a nd cultu re. Fergusson adopls a more ca u liolls an d con sidcrcJ arg umcn l on lhe relatio n betwecn d rama amI New C rit ICislll in hi s widcl y p rinted TIJe Idea 711 L'1l Icr ( 1949). Ile pra ises R ; IIlSl l lll . Blackl11 ur, tIIld E mpson. who ha ve "done 1lllH.;h 10 rn akc lile ¡¡ rls 01 k ll¡';l~ 1 11Ilf¡,; rs l iln~la bk."
scelllg cnll llt.'l'lr " I1 '1 lh I \\lt',I 1 ·' r1 ll dI IIl I HllIl's lllIalioll " all L! Bbcklll ur's '·lallg.ua gc as gcsl lI I'I.::" II lId 1'IlI p' ,III I \ '.1 lid I\.''1 u l arnbig uily a nu Ihc pasllll'a l (::! I j . Al lbe Sél lTIC lime: he flll'lhrr g hlly sla l!.:s Ihal, si 11 ce dr(l lllél is " no l prilllarily ti composi tio n in tlll wrbal ll1cdiw lI ," olhcr a pproac hes \Yerc equally neccssary.llence , he oecided lo integrale Cambridge an thropology into his study ofth e unlma in order to anal y7.c the " ritual " function of a fo rm whose " own essence is at once more pri mitive, mo re subtle. a nd more direct tha n either word 01' con cept," an aspect be:
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made con siderable use 01' t hcatrc as a I,;¡u¡e study IClr IlIcOIú.ing the instit u tion al, orga nizational. political , and social d imensions (j I' acslhdic rorms. T, emphasize this d isc.iplin ary gc neal ogy is thus to posi ti o n drama nol only as somethjng th at might rnake a n alliance with cultural studies (as Jill Dolan and others have a rgued ) but, more pro foun dl y, as a site that helped to plopel tlJe cu ltural studies proj ect (see Dol an ). D eveloped through th e rcw riting o f Will iams's drama books and into the publica tion of The L ong Re vo /I/{;OI1 , the co ncept of "structure of feeling" wa s mea nt to give sorne formal ball ast lO his concept of culture. As P red Inglis writes, "Structure 01' feelin g" was a concept designed to catch th e point of intersection between art and hi storical experience as individuaJly, amI therefore as socially lived. W illiams's project [ ... ] had been to grasp a cul t ural history as experience; that is to say, to intcrpret the movement of change caught and held in the peculiar len ses of art. (233) It was thus less a model of how art refteded society than a rneth od by wllich to catch emergent moments in " the active processes of lea rning, im agi nati on , creation. performance" ( Will iams. Prohlems 29). In Drama frOIn lbsen LO Brechl, Willj ams's definition of stl ucture of l'eeling uses drama to articulate rcalms of affective experience th a t match but exceed the conventions o f literary critique: It is as fi rm and definite as "structure" suggests, yé l it is bascd in the deepest and often least tangible elements of our cxperience. [ ... ]1 ts mea ns, its e1ements, are not propositions o r techniq ucs; they are embodied , related feelings . [ .. . ] we can look at drama tic methods \Vith a clear technical defi.nition , and yet know, in detaiL that what is bein g defined is more than technjque: is indeed t he practical way of describin g those changes in ex.perience the responses and th eir communication ; the " subjects" and the " forms " - which make the drama in itself and as a history important.
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1t is a wa y 01" spcaking and of listenin g, a spcciflc rhythm of él par ticular consci ollsness; in the end a form 01' unfini shed. transient, anxious relatio nsh ip_ wh ich is thcrc on the sta gc or in lhe text but which is also , pervasively, a structure of fecl in g in a precise coo temporary world [ ... ]1 don ' t think 1 co uld ha ve understood these dramatic p rocedures as mef/¡ods- thal is to say, as si gn ificant general modes -- if I had not been loo king both ways. , co uld have seen them, perhaps, as techniques [ .. . J [b ut] it is where tec hni q ue and meth od have either an it.1entity oro as now commonl y. a signiflcant fracture , that all the ha rd qllcstions of thi s diftkuIt discipline begin . (" D ramat ized Society" 21) WiHiams's discussion of structures of feelin g in Chekho vian dramatic d ia logue echoes the language he used to analyze D icken:)'s dial ogic power. Not coincidentally, Williams isolated the kind of rea lm that Jo ho G assner in voked in his account of an American dramatic idiom, suggesting that G assner's A merican ist label was serving as a stand-in for an account of cultural pro cesses in general. Hard question s abo ut the fracture between technique and method , between consci ou sness and language, bet ween feeling and wodd . appear Lhroughout W illiams's drama scholarshjp. In Modern Tra~edv, Will iams uses such im pulses lo engage and critique a legaey of d ramatic criticism o Though speci fically replying to George Steiner's p hilosoph y of tragedy. he a rgues agai nst a general critical strain that too easily married lhe systemics of structllral anthropology \Vith the systemics ofliterary genre criticism (43). SlIch a uni o n resuIted too simply in a model of tragic forrn lhat transcended social and historical particularity. F or Williams. this lIniversalizing tendency bypasscd what was most intriguing a bout the drama its dyna mi sm, its mutability, its embedded social struct ures.
While Williams often found such acti ve, recursive processes in novclists suc..:h as Dickens, Hardy, and La wrence, who, he fel t, had listcned to the voiccs 01' E ngli sh culture an d devcloped a rtistic conven tions bo th to match an d lO advance them, he often conceivcd dra ma as the rorm lhal a llowed him lo " Iook bo lh ways" bctwecll lhe aesthctic and lhe <¡ocial. In hi s in augu ral lecture as Professo r of Drama al CambriLlgc LJn ivcrsi ly lIe t1scd Jramalic
[flragic experience, beca use ol' its central importance. comm only attracts the fund amental beliefs and tensions of a period , and tragic theory is interesting rnainly in this sen se, that through it the shape and set of a particular culture is often deeply realised . I f, however, \Ve think of it as a theory about a single and permanent kind 01" I"act. we can end only with the metaphysical conclusi ons that are bllilt into any slIch assumpli on [ ... ]lhe assumption of él permanent, univer sal anu CS5l'Ilt l:l II v llOcha nging hum an nature . (Modem Tmgedy 45)
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(\>nU\!lIJ l1i llg ' hl:o ri:,; ' s whu preslIlIled an ah lsln lll a l ClJ uil lio n bCIWcCII Greck, Rl' naissancc, anú Il w dcrn lragic forms. Wi lli~Ul I S g Iles 011 to redefine lhe significa nee o f traged y in lerms th a l resonate with his pa radigms in c ult ural theory: T ragedy is then not a single a nd permanent kind of facr, bu t a series of experiences and con ventions a nd instil ulio ns. It is nOI a case of interpre ting this series by refe rence lo a permanen t an u unch a nging hu man nature. Rather, t he va rietics of tragic experienee are to be interprcted by reference to the changing convent ions a nd in sti t u tions. The universa list character of mos t trágic theo ry is th en al Lhe Opposi le pole from our necessary inte rest. [ ... ] lt is in any case necessary lo bTeak the lheory i[ we a re to value lhe art [ ... ] [instead] to see its controlling structure of feeling, the variations within this and their connections with actual d ramatic Slr uctures, and to be able lo respond lo them critically, in lhe full sense. (45- 6) Forcgrounding the inlerrelalions among experience, con vention , and institu tion , Williams focused on technical and socia l shifts i.n Lhe theatrical event upon lhe choral structures of G reek tragedy, upon the later secularist impulses that replotted tragic acti on , an d upon tbe modern izi ng forces that generated and isolated lhe psychic conveotions ortbe tragic hero in the twentieth centu ry . See king the va riations within and belween dramatic structure and " st ruct ures offecling," Williams's investigation in M odern T/'{/gedy thus provides the leos and the language for theorizing cultural process, antici pa ting and cchoing Ihe analytic paradigms of "dominant." " resid ual ," anu "emergent" for wh ich his cultural theory would become known (Sociology oI Culture 2(4). Thc "hard q uestions 01' this difficult disci pline," whelher that discipline be Ilwdern drama or culture in gcneral, may have had a beginning for Willia ms in slIch structures of feeling, but the endings of such qucstions are ~ti l1 lIll ccrtain . J have e ndeavored , in this investigation, to link Williams's in tcl Il:ctllal genea)ogy with lhose 0 1' drama and thereby l O position thc latter as o l'l-unrecognizcd precursor. 1\ 1 the same time, drama tic perform a nce is a ls tn lcrcsting in a W illiams genealogy as a metaphor for expressing a certa in killd o f ambivalcnce in progressive literary studies, ambivalences that persist in lilcrature's transmutation into cult ural studies. Checkercd throughOUI F reu Inglis 's biography are constanl references to the pa rallcl am b iva lences wilh which Williams grceted bolh participation in "aclual " lhealrical evt:nls a nd participa tio n in "actual " social relation s. In fact, Inglis lells his readc rs lha l Will iams accepled his end owcd chair as Professor 01' Dntma dcsp ilC " ha n lly Iha ving.1 becn l O él Iheatre for yea rs" (241). Wi lhoul rcco unling ,,11 \') f Ihcsc rclercncc:-; Or overly psyd H)logil.ing Williams. 1 lhink Iha l this rcluc ' ¡¡ I1CC is fin intricuing syI11 Ph)Ol , 11tH si mply 0 1' hypocrisy hlll (Ir Ihe hasic Pf¡
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COIIUIH.J nlln'i 111 111, ill!>' , 1111 d ifll\II II d l:,c ipliIlC." I)¡-;'IIII . I 'iCCms \() fUll clion bnl h as a spr ill ~ , l h, . lI d 1111 1.'\11.1 li lcrar y c ultu ral cngagcmcnl anu as ¡J limit poin t pa!'it wllÍd l Ill e';1I y delÍ w J ~ u ltural an al ysi ~ SCCIllS unwilling lo go. T hi s kiml 01' alll hivak nec anu Eli o l-likc slippage pcrsi:¡tli even in Fred h¡glis's o wn way ol' trcé.lting drama as élcuJtura l event, lhat is, as a fOtnl lhat is made ana lyzablc and useful in the moment when it is turned back into a lrope. Dra ma matlers ')0 much for Williams beca use, more l han any other form except opera [ ... ] it is a communal for m of aft. Among ura matists, Ibsen wa:¡ lhe tirst key subject, beca use lbsen dramatised heroism as ho pefulness, even when - most of all whe n - the hero 01' heroine \Vas p ulled down lo death by desire . Ibsen prefigured Ihe essential tens ion bet ween Williams's pervélsive feelings of inheritance anu his equa lly strong d rive to break a\Vay and keep a way, keeping other peopl e away at the same time. (I ngli:; 105)
lt is noteworthy that Inglis 1'ollows the first sentenee a bout thea tre's ensemble form \Vith a thematie discussion orthe conlent oí Ibsen 's plays, as if one were an extension of the other. The "communal" allianccs and frictions 01' tbeatre making, of course, embody the simultaneous urges oí collective inheritance and ofbreaking free; however, Inglis reorients that sha ky communali~m fro m the interactive realm of actors, writers, and designers to the internal dyn a l11 ics o f the play text. Th a t ki nd ofmove is reproduced again and again in Iíterary d erived studies of both culture and modern drama, demonstratiLlg the per sistence of new critical methods even in attempts to break free fro m new critical objects. Such tendencies seem to perpetua te the formalist quest for communalism. That persistence reftects back on modern drama 's continued shaky rela tionship to culture, a n ins[U bility that appeared in culture's early form a tions as a gcntlemanl y moral form, continued in its later formations as a rigorously studied new critical mode oí cultural capital , ami now reappears in cultu fe's most recent anthropological transfonnations in cultural studies. That lhis shakiness should continue \Vithin the socially oriented, praxi s-friendly, materi ally eontextualized project 01' cultural studies seems curio LIS. It seems curious lhal sueh cultural rcvisions 01' a literaIJI studies project have not repositioned drama. a form whose literal} status was circumspecl bccause of its occasional vulgarity, its embedded practicality, it s extra-litcrary acsthctics, and its hyper contextu a l and relentlessly non-autonomolls status as an epistemological objecl. Ra thcr lhanla rncn ting lhis o "ersight, however, it might be lL'ieful to use its persistcncc lo rcllcl.:\ back ot\ de b~llcs aboul the Sla lUS o f "lexl." language, " amI "the lil~rary " 1I 1 ~lI l llITal SI lidie:>. Ir lhe rclaLionsh ip between li tera t ure :1111.1 ~(lei l.!ly 1I, 1 ~ ' "1 11 111 1(1 " Cll lt ur;¡\ sllldics fa scinalion hctwccn lext and
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li nt1 llalli l\: ur dra l1l,1 in Ihe a~ad ~'lIly Ic:-siluatcs óJlIO is rc-s itll illcd hy sUI.h rnc thodol llgical qucsl ions. Whell MCl.,lghan Mo rris asks wou ld- bc cu ltu ral lhc(}rists to move beyond "[a] lilerary read.ing 01' él shop pi ng ma ll th al tl oes not seriollsly cngage wit h q uestions thal arise in history. soLio logy and cconomlcs" (q td. in G rossberg 14), her argllment aligh b 0 11 sim ilar in crtias that have produced blind spots arollnd modero dram a. lndeed , IIlclhodological q uestions abollt the role of " text -bascd" critidsm in éultural studies rest upon concerns tha l have plagued tbe st uc\y of d rama wit bin and withOut Iitcrary stlldies since thc l uro 0 1' the century , even befo re F ranci s Fergusson's litera ry wari ness prompted him LO conlact those " studenls 0 1' cul ture" in Ca m bridge anlh ropology. Thc ambivalent status of d rama migbt well be continuoWi with. lO cile DoroLhy Hale, a lin gering social formalism in progressive literary and cul tural studies. Hale investigates the "sli ppery ma terial ism tha! creales a bridge [ ... ] between Marxist literary criticism and Anglo-American literary form alism" (13). Read ing Ihis sli pperiness next to contemporary scholarsh ip in cultural studies. she cites examples of literary scholars such as Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, Ba rbara Joh nson, and Henry Louis G ates, Jr. , \Vho use novels as the basis ror wider cultural theory . IIale mai ntai ns lhat such work is ultim ately fo rmalist, derived from traditional new critica] 1iterary paradigms ano
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When such solid , material objccts as shoes and pota toes are them selvcs "read" as signifiers within eomplex sign ifying syslems, the dis tinctio n between ma terial a nd symbolic products breaks do wn. T he p hysical object bccomes a c;ignifi er. ancl the physieal properLics or c()fl vcntionally recognizcd signifi ers (e. g., the a ural and visual q ll ul itics ~\r (;pok.cn anu wr i tl~n words) are em ph a~i;.:¡;d. Fvc rything "::111
Writing 1'1'0111 wit hin tht: insti tu tiolla lizalion 01' cultural slutlies, Lawrence G rossbcrg agrees about the inertias h uilt into certaill stri:lins 01' Ii terary deri ved cultural stud.ies scho]arsh ip. Despi te Williams's assertions about Ihe need to break down conceptual tlivisions between "culture" and "society," despite arguing lhat " C ult ural studies had to re insert cult ure in to lh e p rac tical everyday lite of people," " W iJl iams wa s never abl e to act ual1 y escape this separation - both in rus privileging of certai n fo mls of culture (Iiterature) and in his desire to equatecultu re with some sort of tota lity and /or cthical standa.rd" (Grossberg 16). Whi le Hale and Ga11agher rema in unconvi nccd by Will iams and his descendants' attem pts to foreground the lllateria1ity and embodi ments of Lhe literary text, drama's materialism and its bodies beckon for critical recognition. Nevertheless, drama's decided ly cmbodied bodies (not to mention its shoes and potatoes) continue to occupy a blind spot in critieal theory. eumbersomely literalizing cultural studies principIes , cumbersolllcl y exceeding soc ial formalist a nal ysis. Fi naIly , I thjnk that this d iscontinuoLis geneal ogy is chastening to those o f uS who have an an no unced affiliation with performance studies. As a va ried intellectual and artistic Illovelllent galvanized by a cultural studies mil ie u, as an increasingl y large body of scholarship rcgular1y supported by fo nnative thinikers such as "Jo hnso n," " Gates," "Sedgwick," and their co11eagues. per forman ce studi es bears no singular or lInfettered relat.i o nshi p to disciplinary traditions in literature, culture, and drama. I do not mean to suggest that we unthinkingly embrace Raymond Wil1iams as an intellectual predecesso r, nor that we entirely accept a11 critiques of rormalist or "Ii terary" cultural studies. Neverthcless. it seems important for perfo rmance studies seholars and affiliates to situate our subfields, o ur methods. our lextualist impulses, our mystified materialisms, and our most cherished insights withi.n a complic ated institutional genealogy. W hen r think about my recent work in perform ance stud ies, I consider one of its major efforts to be sOlllelhing akin to the analysis of structures of feeling in aesthetic, recreational , and everyday spaces - moments when conventi on and emotion, technique a nd force, a gesturaJ movement and a social movement, collide, rework, undo . and advance eaeh other. And f Ol" a while, 1 think . r imagined this project as something lInlinked to the project of modcrn drama . It has been useful and humbling for me to recogn ize él different gencalogy. albeit a discontinuous one, among categories such as dram.l, literat ure, culture, and performance. Before comprehensively endorsing t he cnn ncct ioll bél\Veen the disciplines of performance studies a nd cul t ural sludies. I hove t'pll lld il import an t to step back fro m this equation h is tori ca ll y. instÍl lllioun ll y. \.'IIITicLl larl y. mClhodologically. An aware nes~ 01' a I ~m gé r . cOl1lplill ll l·,t dh¡ Iplill tl lY j'.l: lIcalogy rnakeS'opposit ion s between old
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If the novel in Scdgwick's criticism is no longer a formalist world apart, it nonetheless retains much of the representational autonomy it enjoyed under the old new critical regime that Sedgwiek has hclped to supplant: the cultural critie who has dedicated herselfto deprivileg ing the novel on aesthetic grounds finds herself reinstating the novel 's formal privilegc on the grounds of its social representativeness.
(5) Intriguingly , bot h Hale and Catherine Gallag her trace that slippage back to scholars like Raymond Williams, fi gures whose quest for materialist analyshi ultimately remained mystified about how material production "dissolved" into the Iiterary artifact (12).
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likl ary Sl ll dl ~s and Il CW (;u llllral sl uJ i¡;s, amI bet wccn \llJ Ü\CJ lre s lud ics allO Ill!W pcrlo rrnam;c ~ tudics, Icss casy to ma inta in or lo eliJe. Th in king gene alog ically about literalure's rclationship to thcatre befo re cul tu ra l st ud ics, abo ut Williallls's thcalrica l relationship to Iilcrature, a bo ut cultural st ud ics ' rcprouuction ofsupposedly su pplanted Iitcra ry metbods. anu about lhe d ilTe r ent lypcs of methodologi¡;al tradi tio ns pc rpetuated and refrac{eu in per formance anu cul t ural studies revcals more unexpected discontinuit ies (llld disavoweu connections. Tbcse various disciplinary beginnings have not always produced analytically helpful endings, but perhaps their ru tu re has yet to be illlagined.
Notes 1 would like to thank the participants oflhe Modem :Drama conference, esp~ciall y William B. Worthcn , for their hel pful rcsporu;es and suggestions. 2 Internal quota tions are from C. F . Thwing, The College o/Ihe Fu/ure (Cleveland , 1897) 12- 3; and J. J. Le wis, " Culture and Limitat ion ," Repor/ (U .N. Y. , 1878) 429. 3 See Geertz; Greenblatt.
Refereoces Bentley. Eric. The Lile o//he Drama. 1964. New York: At heneul1l, 1967.
- -o T/¡e PlaY lI'righl as Thinker: A Sil/dy o/ Drama in Modem Times. Ncw York: Harcourt, 1946. Brooks, Cleanth, and Ro bert B. Heilman. Undersfllnding Drama: T u:ehe Play.\'. 1945 . New York: Hall, 1948 . Brooks, Cleanth, John Purser, and Ro bert Penn Warre n. An Approach 10 Lilera/Llre. New York: Appleton-Century, 1952. Brooks, Cleanth, and Robert Penn Wa rren. Unders/onding Poel/)'. 1938. 3rd eu. New York: I-Iolt, 1960. Brllstein , Robert. "Why American Plays Are Not Literature ." 1959. American Drallla (//.1(1 JIS Crilics. Ed. Alan Downer. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1965. 245- 55. Dolan , Jill. "Geographies 01' Learning." Th ea /re Journal45 (1993): 417- 41. Eagleton, Terry . Literal'}' T/¡eory: Anlnlrodllclion . 2nd ed. Minncapolis: lJ of Mín tlc sota P, 1996. Easthope, A nthony. Li/erary in/O Cul/ural Swdies. LOlldon: ROlltleuge, 1991. Fergusson, Francis. Th e Idea o/u Th ea /er: Th e /Ir/ oFDrama in Changing Per.l'peclh'e. Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP, 1949. Frye, No rthrop. Ana/omy o/ Crilicism. 1957. Princeton , NJ: Princeton UP, 1967. Gallagher, Catherine. ' The New Materialism in Mn rxist Aesthetics. " T/¡eory (///11 Soóely: RenelVal and Critique ill Social Theory 9 (1980): 633- 46. Gassner, John. "An Answer to the New C ritics. " Tllealre Arls Nov. 1952: 59 - 61. - -o"There 15 No A merican D rama." Thealre /lrlS Se pt. 1952: 24 5. R4 - 5. Geertz, CIiITord. " Blum:d Ge nres: T hc R cngll rtll ion o f Social T hou gh t. " L ocIII I\IIfIll' le(~~e: Furt/¡('f E,~say.l' in II1/erpreli vl' Anfhropologl'. New YMk: Basi<:, 19S1. 19 .15 Gr:r tT, Gc rald . Pm(e.l'sill.f!. J ileroll/n': I IIIIII.I'lillll ;1I1I1I1 lIi.\'IlIr.l'. ( ' li i \!;I~\l: 1) ,) " ( 'hica go P. Il)R
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1.' 11 1; 1' 1) In
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11. A ralll VCl'~(,1 NL'\~ \11 11. J(Pll lk·,J¡u;., I')XIJ. 1 14. Clrosshcrg, I a w n.' II~,' 1I111/,t:/II.1: 1I 111 IJrld, 11111/1(': h:\slfJ's Off ('/lI/lIral SlfIdies . D ur ham , NC DuJ..c 111' 11 )''7. Gui llory. Jn hll . CI/III/rlll ( '" piwl: n,/, Prohlell1 u/Lileral)' C(//1011 Formalion. C hicago: U of C hicago P, 19 l )J . Hale, Dorothy 1. Sotial Formalism: The Novel in Th eory FO/'ll Berlry Jam es lo Ihe Prcsenr. Sla nford: Stanford UP, 1998. Inglis, F red. Ray mo/ld Williums. Lo ndon/New Yo rk : Verso , 1995. Smith. Susan Harris. American Drama: The Baslard Arl. C ambridge: Cambridge UP, 1997. Veysey, L.llIrence R . T ll e Emergence u/ Ihe American Un iJ'ersity. C hicago: U of C hicago P, 1965. Williams, RaYlllond . Drama/mm Jbse/1lo Brechl . Rev. ed. London: C hatto. 1968. - -o "Drama in a D mma tiz.ed Sociely." Wri/ing in Soc;!'/y. Lo ndon: Ve rso, 1983 . 11- 21. - - . nrm/1lI in PerFormance. 1954. Rev . ed . M iddlesex, UK: Pelican, 1968 .
- -oFo reword. Dram(f/rom Jhsen lO Breelu n.pag.
- -oKeYlVords: A Vocahulory o/ Cullure (ind Sacie/y. 1976. New York: Ox rord UP,
1984 . . The Long Revululio/1. Harmondsworth. U K : Penguin, 1956. - -o M adern Trar;edy . London: Chatto. 1966. - - o Prohlems i/1 ¡'vfalerialism (/nd Cul/ure: Selec/ed Essays . Lo nuon /Ncw York: Verso, 1980. - -oThe Soóology o/Cullure. Ncw York: Schocken, 1982.
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man and a woman embral:e. Each stands poiseu, l:on ta ined . T hey look past eadl other, eyes focused on distant points in the spal:e. Like mirror images. thcÍr legs strike out, first fo rward, then bal:k. As one, they glide al:ross the fl oor. bodies melded at the hips , timing pcrfedly in unisono They stop expectantly. The woman jabs the balls of her feet sharply into the floor , eaeh time swivel Iing her hips toward the leading foot. Thc man holds her l¡ghtly , steering her motion with the palrn of lhis hand a t her baek. T his is tan go . . . Most readers ofthis passage probably have some imuge of the tango in their minds, whether frorn dancing, watching others dance, or seeing represen La tions of the tango in H ollywood films. Most, if pressed, eould even get up in their living rooms amI demonstrate some reeognizabl c ifhyperbolil: rendition of the tango. Few of US , howevcr. have givcn more than passing though t to such an activity or have eh osen to indude it in our sl:holarly work. D a nce rcmain s a greatl y undervalued and undertheorized arena of bod ily diseou rse. lts practice and its sl:h olarship a re. with ral·e exception , marginalized within the al:ademy . But mUl:h is to be ga ined by opening up cu ltural studies lo qucstions of kinesthetic semiotil:s and by placing dance research (and by eXlension , h uman Illovement studies) on the agenda 01' cultural studies. By enlarging our studies of bodily "lexts" to indude d ance in all of ib fo n11S a rnong lhell1 social danl:e, th eat rical performance, and rit ual ized 1l10vemen l we l:an furthero ur understandi ngs ofh ow social identities are sil,'1l aled , formed, anu ncgot ia leu through bod ily Illovelllent. We ca n analyze how social identitics are codi fled in perfo nna nee styles ¡¡ nu how Ihe use of lhe body in d ance is rclated lo, duplica les, contcsts , a m pli fics, or exceeus nom1S 01' non-u a nl:c bod ily cxprcs sion within speci fic h islo ri\.:\l1c()nlcx ls. WC~ln tr.tCC hislorical and gcogmphic chall l!t!s in l..:ull1 plcx " incsllll'l ic -;yslcms. antl can ~ lll dy wrnpilra tivcly sy ll1b\llk
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41
EMBODYIN G D I FFE RE N CE
Issues in dance and cultural st udies
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01' the many b road a reas of movement in vestigati on sketched out aboye, I specifically want to d iscuss da nce ils a perfo rmance of cul t ural identi ty nnd lhe shifting meanings involved in the tra n sm i ~si on 01' dance slyles from onc group to ano ther. Like Bourdieu's co ncept of "taste" (D i.l' finclion), movement style is 0 "naturalized " as to be nearly unnoticcd as a symbolic system , movement is él primary not secondary soci al " tcxt" -complcx, polyscmous, always already Illcaningrul, yet continuously changing. Its articulation signals group aftili alion and grou¡J diffcrences , wheLher consciously performed or not. Movcmcnt serves as a marker for the production of gender. racial , ethnic, c1ass, and national identities. It can also be read as a signal of sexual identity, age, and illncss or hcalth. as well as various othcr lypes of disti nctions/descriptions that are applieu to individua ls or groups, such as " sexy. " G iven the amount of inform a1ion that public display ofmovement pro vides. its scholarly isolation in the rcalms of technical studies in kinesics, aesthetics, sports medicine, ami some cross cultural communications studies is both remarkable and lamentable. "' Dance," whether social, theatrical , or ritua l1y based, forms one subset 01' lhe larger field of movement study. And a1though we tend to think of dances. likc the tango , lambada, or waltz, as distinctive aggregations 01' steps, every dance exists in a complex network of relationships to other dances and other lIon-dance ways of using the body, and can be analyzed along thesc 1w" concurrent axes. ' Its meaning is situated both in the context of other socially pn.:scribed and socially meaningful ways of mov ing and in t[¡e context of t he history of dance forms in specific societies. When movement is codified as " d a nce," it may be lea rned informally in t hc home or commll nity. like everyday codes of movement , o r studi ed in special sehools for social da nce forms (li ke the A rthur M uHay Stud ios) a nd ror theatrical dance forms (Ii ke the School of Amexican Ballet). In either case, formal or informal instruction, and qllotidian 01' "dance" movement, the PUnI melers oracceptable/intelligible movement within specific contexls are hi ghl control1cd , prodllced in a F oucau ldian sense by specific discursive pr.tct ices und p rodllctive limi talio ns. To gel al wha t lhe " slakes" are in movemcn t, lo 1111l:ovcr Ihe idcolog.kal work il cntuil s, we can ask wha t Ill ovcmenls ure cOllsid\.!nxl " a pprn prialc" or
cvclI " ncccssury" wi th il l iI " 11ll ll ll · ltlsto l ll:l\ 1alld gl.!0!crr;lpllicalcontext. and hy whom lI nd 1'0, Wlll llll ~tl d l II I.!l:css ltil's \Ibtui ll . Wc can ask who da nces, whcn anu whel"('! , in wha t \Vays , with W hOfll, anJ lo what enu'! Ami jusl as im po rt an tly. who J oes l/ lit d ance. in what ways, under what conditions and wh y? Wh y a re ~om e dances, sorne ways 0 1' Illovi ng the body. con sidered forbidden fo r mem bers 01' certain soci al c1asses, "races," scxes'! By looking al dance we can see enacted on a broad licale. and in codified fashion , socially constituteJ and historically specific attitudes towa rd the body in general , toward speeific soci al groups' usage of the bod y in partic ular, an d a bou t the re1atiouships among variollsly marked bodies. as wen as social alt itudes toward the use of space a nd lime. Were \Ve to complete a really detailed anal ysis of social da nce and its gender implications. for exalllple. it could pro vide us with a baseline from whi ch to pursue further questions that are much larger in scale. We Illight ask , for instance, how t he concept of pleas llre is played out in this kinesthetic realm. Who mm'es and who is moved? In what ways do the poses display one body more than another'! Wh at skills are demanded 01' each dancer, and what do they imply about desired attributes ascribed to men or to women? What wo ul u a " bad" rendition 01' a pa rtic ular dance , like the tango for instance, consist oC? An " un-Latin " 01' " un-American " version? An "improper" one'? Thesc questions are useful for historical as well as contemporary analysis , For cxamp1e, the waltz was regardeu as too sexually dangerous for "respect able" women in Europe and North America when it was first introduced in the nineteenth ccntury. The combination of intoxicating fast whir1ing and a "clüse" embrace was thought to be enollgh to make women take leave of lheir senses. Some au vice books for women even claimed waltzing could lead to prosti tution.'J Nineteenth-century dance manuals illcluded drawings showing " proper" and "improper" ways to embrace while dancing, specifying the position of the head, arms, and lIpper body, and the reqllired distance that should be maintained between male and female torsos. In manuals directed toward the middle and upper classes, bodies that pressed close, spines that relaxed , and clutching arms were a11 denigrated as signs 01' Iower-class dance style. The postural and gestural maintenance ofdass distinction was a necessary skil1 to be learned , one that could even be represented with precisi on in "yes" and " no " il1ustrations 01' dancing couples. IO Such detailed bodily analysis of the link age of gender and class pro vides another discursive field through which to understand the shifting constitution ofdass relations and gender attributes during the nineteenth century. Changing attitudes towa rd the body as evidenced in the "physical culture" movement. and ch anges in dress such as the introduction of " bloomers," as we11 as new patteros or IcisllrC acti vities ami thoir gcndcTcdness provide parl of the wider contex.! th r(l ugh which sud lll ancC' ac t.iv ities gai n their mean ing. Si mila rly, the rap iJ indus tl'lal i/:l lrnll ' 1Il~1 d
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Obvio usly, ways of holding the body, gestur ing, moving in rclatio[\ to time. and using space (taking a lot, using a Ii Ule, moving with large sweeping motions, 01' small con tained ones, and so forth) all d i/Ter radically across various social and cultural groups and through time. If dance styles and performance p rac tices are both sym ptomatic an d constitutive of social relations, lhen t raá ng the history of dance styles and Iheir spread from one grollp or area to anofheT_ along with the changes that occur in this transmission , can help unCOvér shifting ideologies attached to bodily oiscourse. The history ofthe tango, rol' example, traces the development 01' movement styles from the oockside neigh borhoods of Buenos Aires to the salo ns of Pari s before ret urning, newly "respectable," from Cl eross the Al1antic to the o ra w ing rooms of the upper-c1 ass portions 01' lhe A rgentine popu lation du ri ng lhe !lrst decades oft he twentieth century. As Dcborah Jakubs has noted, lh e taste 01' the upper classes for " a fundamentally taboo cultura l form is a recurrent phenomenol1 ," as evidenc'Cd by the passion for H arlem jau exhibited by Illany wealthy white New Yorkcrs in the 1920s and 1930s. A whole history of dance forms coulo be wri tten in terms of such appro priations and rewor ki ngs occurring in both North and So uth Ameriea for al least the last two centuries and continuing today. Such practices ano the d is coursc that surrounds them reveal the importan t part bodily discourse plays in the continuing social construction and ncgotiation of race, gender, cl ass, ami natio naJj ty. and thei r hierarchical arrangements. In most cases we will lino that oance forms originating in lower-dass or nondominant populatiom; presont a trajectory of "upwaro mobility" in which the dances are "rcfineo," "polished," and often desexua lized. Similarly, im provisatory forms becomc codified to be more casily tran snlÍtted across dass and racial li nes, especially when the forms themselves become commodified and so Id through special brokers , or dancc tcachers. In stud ying the transmissioll of a formo it is not only the pathway 01" t hal Iransmission , but al ~o the form 's reinscri ption in a new comm uni ty/social conlcxl and r~s ul lan t cha llge in its signification tha Lit is im portanllo a nalYlc. t\ n ~l n alysis ~1r a ppmpri at i on must inelude no!. only the lransmi ssion palhwuy a nd I h ~ ITIcoiu ling cfTecls of Ih!:': medi a. immig ru tioll pHtlcrns, LUl d Ilw like ,
blll ;ti SD 11 n u na 1ySI'i 11 1 Ih.. 1I " l /JI 1(", ,,1 w kll cha llgcs i 11 1he Ira IISIll issiu n. in lhe sll-l:lll k d d l"'l'X II .rI I/H IIl 1t1 nI a 1'01'111 as il crosscs dass 01' racial b{)unuaricl'l , Wl! ~a ll 'it.:c ,1 deill dl ive thrus l illg, undulation, or rotation ro r instan ce), and in the spccific configllrations ol' lllalc ano fcmale partnering. Fo r examp1c, the close ness orthe embrace may be looseneo, or lhe opening ofthe legs may be lessened. In anal y¿ing some o f these ch anges wc ca n see specifically wh a L as pects of movement are tagged as too " sexy" or " Latin " or " Iow class" by I'he appro priating grollp.11 01' co urse, the same mean ing may not a t all be attached to the originalmovements by oancers in the cOlllmunity tbat developed the slyle. Loo king back to the early years of this century in North America, fo r instance, the case 01' the professional dance team of Vern on a nd Irene Cas tle provides a goou exam ple (see Erenberg). The husband and wi fe d llo became well kn own among lhe middle ano upper c1asses through their exh ibition ballroom oancing and their popular movies. They were so popular tllat Irene Castle set the stanoaro for fashion and hairstylc and a ppea red in many magazines. Perro rm ing in elegant oance clubs, and rUl1ni ng thei.r own dance school in New York Ci ty, t hey built their reputations on popula rizing (among the middle ano upper c1asses) social dances that o riginated in the lower c1asses, especial'ly within the black po pulation. They " toned dawn," "tamed: ano " whiteneo" such popular soda l dances as the Turkey Trat ano the Charleston . Such revisions tended to lllake the dances more uprighl , takin g the beno out of the legs and bringing the buttocks ano chest into vertical alignment. Such " brokering" orblack cul tural p roducts increased the circu la tion of money in the white community wh ich paid white teachers lO learn white versions of black dances. But it \Vould be a lllistake lo consider that such appropriations, while they seem to recupera te the potential contestatory power of cultural production by subordinate groups, 00 so monolithically. While markers of social "oif ference" can be to some extent reduced to "style" and repositioned from a contestatory marginality to more mainstream fashionablc practice, both the specific practices themselves amI their meanings shift in the process. Indeed, even in those instances where the recuperation seems very "slIccessful ," there is some cha nge in the dominant population 's cultural produclion . A mi , of course, appropriation does not always take the form of the hegemonic groups' " borrowing" from suboroinated groups. The borrowing and conseq uent refashioning goes both ways . To take just one example, the "Cak ewalk," a stn¡tting couples oance performed by African Americans ouring the slavery era, is t h oll~ht to have been based 011 a mimicry of European social danee rn nns . w h ~n! (hel erosex ual) coupled dancing was prevalent, as opposeo lo Il w SCp Hll lk- Sl:.x d aJll:c Irad itiol1:; orWest Afriea. T he meanings of lhe l1\ovellll:nr k"( i ~' IlIl~ dmllpl' wh ~n transpo rted in to tire adopting gro up. Wlti\c Ihc 1l11l illll (11 . 1jlPIl 'jlllóI 11 1111 ' llla y si gnal the l ran sre r ü fS~lII ree material
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Dialectics of cultural transmission In their work o n African A merican cultures in the Amer icas , Sid ney Mi ntz and Richarcl Price have argued pcrsuasi vely this more d ia lec lka l con ception of c ultu ral transmission. They emphasize th e sl rong inlluence t hat slavery, as an institution , exerted on bo th African and European derived cultural practices. They argue against a simplistic back- writing of history, which wou ld unprobl ema ticall y trace A frican American practices to origins in Africa . W hile they ackno wledge that some specific practices as well as very large epistemological orientations to ward causality and cosmology m a y ha ve survived the violence of enslavement, they cmphasize instead the particula r ity of A frican American cultures--their d istinctiveness from African cultural institutions and practices. New practices necessarily arose withín the new hi sto rical con text 01" slavery. which mixed Africans from many dístinetive linguistic and social groups and resituated these "crowds" (their term) within the parametcrs of the subjugating relationship 01' slavery. New religious practices, male a nd femal e relationships, reworkings 01' kinshi p patterns and their mea nings, as well as artistic practices arose from these new cond itioo s of prohibitions and possibilities. I\nd while the balance 01' power rem ained ultimately and over whelmingly among the slave owners, this too was negotiated at the micro political scale amI varied fro m country to country, region to region, a nd cven plantation to plantation. Wh ite cultural practices, inc1uding notions of paternity. cooking, language, and so forth , were also reformed by the rela lionships of the plantation. Mintz and Price stale it succinctly: " the points of contact between persons uf dilTeri ng sta tus, or different group membership, did not a utomatically d~le nnine the d irection of Aow o f cultural matcrials according to lhe statuses uf' Ihe participants ... " (16). Quoting C. Vann Woodward , they note thal " ~m far as their culture is concerned, all America ns are part Neg ro. " A mI fol lowing lIe rskovits, they q uote "whether Negroes borrowed from whi tcs or whites rrom Negroes, in this or any other aspect of culture. it m lIst al ways be rcmembered that t he bo rrowing was never achieved witho ut resultant change in whatcver wa s borro wed. and , in addition , without incorporating elcmcnts which originated in the new habitat tha!, as much as anything else. gi vc Ihe ocw for m its d ist inctive qualily." M in tz and Price go on lO say thal " borrow jng" lIla y not best exp n:s~ Ihe reHli ly al all "crca ting" or " rornodcll ing " may rnakc il dcarc r (43 44),
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Identity, style, and the politics of aesthetics Mi ntz an d P r ice are right abo ut the complexities of cultural traosmission and exch ange. But in cOllnterpoi nt to tha t complexity (i .e., what "really" happen s) is a more two-djmensional Pllblic diseo urse that ma rks some cultural producls as " X " a nd others as " Y, " as " black " dance o r " wh ite" dance, for in sl a nce. Sometimes these designations are used in the service 01" celebrating a particular cultural heritage , and an emphasis 0 0 uniqueness is one way to do so. Wi thin these ideologies of difference, th e historical realities 01' cultura l production and changc are muted . Dance, as a discourse of the bod y, ma y in faet be especially vulnera ble to interp retations in terllls of essential ized iden tities asso cia ted with biological difference. These identities indude race and gend er and tbe sexuali zed associatio ns attached to bodies Ill arked in those terms. a s well as na tional o r ethnic identities when these are associated with racial notions, as they so often a re. u Ln the United States, the do minant structuring trope ofracializcd differem.:e remains white/non white. W ithin this horizo n, black/white and Latin/white dyads of difference reinforce essentialized notions 01' cultural production. In reality, a much more complicated matrix 01' racial/cultural identities is played out with the specifics orthe relationships among amI between various groups shifting in response to ch anging events, demographics, economics, amI so on. But wbile these dyads ma y be misleading and historically inaccurate, such dis tinctions rU lJction powerfully in popular discourse both within comlllunities (serv ing as a positive marker of cultural identity) and across communities. In cases whe re a cultural form migrates frorll a subordinate to a dominant group, the meanings attached to that adoption (and remodelling) are gen erated within the parameters of the current and historical relations between the two groups. and their constitution of each as " other" éllld as different in particular ways. For exalllplc, the linkage in North American white culture of blacks with sex uality , sens uality, and an alternately celebrated or denigrated pres umedly "na tural " propensity for physical ability, expressivity, or bodily cxcess tinges the a d option of blaek dances. On one level , it allows middle anO uppcr-da ss whitcs lo move in what a re deemed slightly risqué ways, to perfo rlll , in ti SCItSC. a Illéa:-,urc o r "blackness" wilho ut paying the social pen alty 01" " bei ng " bla¡;k 1\ 11 illlill(I1' lI\! lIli ghl be " slulllllling" a temporary excur sion aCI\ISs li lll!ll div idllll' ,ol.' tal dussl's in the search ro r pleas ure.
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IJUIlItI Til lo: slIhmcrgcJ das:-i d1n11o:1I S1I1I1 ill lhi s llldapllol I ~ :11 1 II l1porlLllll o tllo: lh al is ~l l'tcll llIiss(.'d when we Cll Il\:cn 1rU le solcly 0 11 ÚiNClI SS llllIS nI" cull ural lr,lJls 111issiuIl ano ml)d ili¡;a lil.lIl anoss ra¡;ial lilles. ]:(n lhe pro¡;ess is ul ti rna lcly IlHlrC¡;om plica I.eo lhí:m Iha L T he meaning of m ovi ng in a slyle assm;ial eo wilh " blm;ks" is dilTerent for various cla sses oC wh ites, ano differenl 1"01' var io us dass¡;s ofblacks, a lld for people who affiliate wilh o ther categories o f raee, such as Asia ns. And , such ¡;ategories of " othering" va ry :,ignificantly geograp llic ally, in lh e C aribbean, for instam:e, o r in Latin America, where the strongly hipolar whi le/black discourse. wh ich unti l recently al least has been a st n lc.: turing tro pe ror difference in the United Sta tes. is too si mplistic. F urlherm ore. in the pro¡;ess of "whileni ng" as the dance form mignltes across sq¡;ial lines, it is no longer Lhe same form in the ¡;ommullity of o rigin o Rath er. lhe dance retains traces oC lhat origin, now refashio ned both through c.:hangcs in movement style and th rough its performance by d itTeren t da ncers in di l" fcrent con texts . W hil e Ihere is in all th is a conta inment and subduing 01' Ihe difTerence or particularity ofthe originating group, there is also a shift in t he hodily lexicon of the dom inan t group. Rat her t han " black" movemenl slyles or " white," a grey ~ca lc ma y give a more accurate metaphor. Even ballet lhe most highly ¡;odified, highly funded, a no perh aps most elite symbol of E UJ"o pean derived theatrical d a nce in lhe Uni ted States,14 has undergone ehanges that sorne scholars associate with A frican American aesthetic values, incl uo ing rhythmic syncopation and accented pe1vic articulations. Brenda Dixon G ottschild makes this argument specifically wilh regard to Balanchine's ballets when she proposes lookin g a t an African American " blues aesthetic" as a Barlhcsian intertext for ballet. To take a eontemporary exam ple drawn from No rth American popular culture, \Ve can consider the enormous influence that black rap music í:lI1d ilS aecompanying dan¡;e style ("hip hop") has had over the last few yea rs .•. ) [ip lIop" dance classes ca n now be found in predom inan tly wh ite neighborh ooJs al lhe lo¡;al aerobics studio. The dance style and the music are featured in lhe mass media in commercials and on MTV. Such popular bl aek groups as Public Enem y have devel oped a very perclls sive style. Their m usic videos elllphasize the sharp re peated thrustin g of lhe pelvis as well as complex stepping or hopping patterns that clearly mark out ami punctllí:lte the beat of the m usic. Pelv ic grillds (sl ow or fast ci rcl ings) also Icatu re prominen lly, 01'ten wi th lhe knees welJ bent and legs sp read. liOUl women and men perfo rm these movemCn ts. I n addition , in some videos Ihe male dan¡;ers (a mi mo re rarely the female) grab their crolches and jerk lhcm lórward. In the lIpper body \Ve sec strong, iso lated movements nI' lile hl: lo SOIllC forllls 0 1" Wcst Arricun u unce, whcre pc1vic artic ulalion lCal urcs pnltnincnl ly alung with pu lyrhythmiL' rclatiollships nclwl.'cll slcpping pul !crll~ in lile fCl: 1 :tlld L'OIll:urrl.!nt a rm gcs lll rcs.
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111 dll ll¡;C lr:l d illllll', UII I'III.llilll' III I !I II'!,\.!, holl! pop ular alld tllcdlrical, slIch as pu lid , I he [¡ " ~\l h:ll d ~ Imv; 1I d IllIktll tk ;IIHI ve rlicalil y. und t he pelvis rardy l"ul1elions as ivc oodily unil o f il:; own. In a "white" ver~io n of hip hor, rep n:S\!n lctl by 111 lo! I."n on1lO lIsly pop ular and fi llancially s uccessfu l gro up New Kids o n l he BI()ck, we can see a slm ilar loning dow n of the movement. Thc emph asis o n vi gorou s, pa tterned stepping
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IHI!l'\1 ,d ll lVl' 1!'!:'Iu c .. nl d ass nllJ ol'lllcali ly (lIIh.ll l / l1l1ll1 l1 hit 11 , rol' c lt,a lllpk) pl:t)'cd o lll Ih lollgh challgillg !cxil,;\)\Is 0 1 111\ lWI IIC II 1. SOlllclimc::. lhis di lll:I~lI li ;¡llll a rkll l g l ltll cornes no l illlhe forlll oflranslllission a nd n :modcl li ng, as I ' lave di~cus sed a hove, bul ralher in a form of bodil), bilingualislll. 'u lake nm: slriking cxalllplc fmm North Amcrica, we can eún sider the use 01' lI1 0vcm cnl 0 11 lhe mil Coshy S ilo\\'. Cosby often inserts Afro-A merica n mow Il1cnl ma r kc rs inlo his otherwisc whitc-identified upper-m iddle-class proles "illllal dcme
"Hot and sexy" Latin dances 'lile emphasis on pclvic molion and syncopated rhythms that characterize hip hop is found , in a very different way, in "Latin" dances imported from South lo Norlh Al11crica. While the specific characterizations amI stereotypcs assQ cia led wilh "Lati ns" and wi lh " bla cks" in do rn in unt public discourse in thc Il nih:d Slatcs var)' , Ihere is sign ifiC<1Il 1 overla p. In 'iuch cases, H discollfsc of ra ci alism lha l lies nlm-whilcS lo Ihe hody and lO scx uulity ~x pu nd s lo Il ldllde I a lin Ame rican pllptl lil lio ll 'i \\ 1' hll l'llpCan ~.I
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origino ICIClaJ, cultural, and nalio na l idc nlil y arl' bl llrrcd . yidd ing a sICI\! otype 01' "La tin" along Ihe lines uf ('arlllcn Mi ran da lTIlSSc(1 wilh Ri cardo M ontalban. T he ascription ofsex ualily (or dallgCnllls. potcnlially overwhclm ing sexuality) to subordinate cla:;ses amI "races" or to groups 01' specific national origin (blacks, "L,üins, " and other such IU11lped together terms to denote non-Anglo- Euro pean ancestry) yields such descriptions as "fiery ," " hot, " " sultry." " passiona te ." AlI 01" these terms have bee n used to describe the tango, fol' instance, or the lambada, or in marketing recent mo vies using those dances, such as T he GYP0Y J(jnxs . In North A merica, it is no accident that both " blacks" ane! " LatillS" are said to "have rh ythm."16 This lumping together of "race," "national origin ," and supposed genetic propensity for rhythmic movement rests on an implieit division between moving and thinking, mind and body . Even the upper dasses of Latin America do not escape this stereotyping, since thei r "Latin ness " can be said to override their d ass dislanciation from the realm 01" ¡[he supposedly " naturally" expressive body. So what d oes it mean for an upper-middle-c1ass Anglo suburban couple in Indiana to d a nce the tango , or samba, or lambada? On ()Oc Icvel, by dancing " Latin " or " black" dance styJcs. the dominant c1ass and/or racial group can experience a I'risson of " illicit" sexuality in a safe, socially protected and proscribed way , one that is c1early delimited in time and space. Once the dance is over, th e act of sexua li zing oneself through a performance of a " hot" Latin style, of temporarily becoming or playing at being a "hot Latin" oneself, ceases. The dance thcn becomes a socially sanctioned way of express ing or experiencing sexuality, especially scxuality associated with suhtle, sens uous rotations of the pelvis. But in doing so the meaning 01" th e dance and of the act of dancing undergoes a change. It is no Jonger " Latin" but now "Anglo-Latin" a nd its meaning arises from and contributes to the larger dialectic between these two social and political entities and their eurrent polítical and economic relations. Within the United States, these relations vary distinctly from region to region and city to city. 17 The history of social dance in th e United States is strongly marked by these periodic importations of styles from Latin America, and more recently by the populariza tion of styles devel o ped within Latin American or Ca rib bean communities within th e United Sta tes . But in almost every case the spread of the dance craze to the non-Latin population is represented and promoted in terms of the d a nce's sexual allure . Over time, thcse dances become more and more codified and stylized and often pass into the category of"sophisticated," marked as sensual ralher than sexual. The tango , rhumba. and samba all now fall into this catcgory.. as evidenced by their canonical inc1usion in social dance c1asscs and in nalional ballroom dance competi tio ns . Wilh this passing uneo comes a gcncra tion al cha nge in the avid per fon1l<.~rs as well. Olele r da nccrs l \!nU lo pcrl'onll Lhe more "soph isticated" vcr:-:iUlls .
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Sllll1dimes Ihe sy lllblllisrn 01" Ihe dance becomcll dcluchcd evcn rmm ils perl"ormance and pcrmcates diITcn::nl nooks 01' popu lar c ulture. The Carmell M iranda figure . perha ps the mo st enduring and potenl ste reolype ofLhe Lalin Bom bshell , reccntly rea ppea red on the s tage of the B rookl yn Acaliemy of Music. Arto Lindsay, Brazilia n pop musician , cal\::; her "a foreigner red uced to lhe fo reign" (Dibbell 43 - 45). r lis tribute to M iranda fea lUred Brazilian perfü rmers such as Bebel Gi lberto, Mira nda 's sisteT A urora, amI Laurie Ande rson , pop icon ofthe U .S. avant-garde, in an attempt to rescue Miranda from her "every-Latina " stereOlype. M iranda's own story revc<;\ls the co mpJexities of tra nslation and transpor tation. A singer and a dancer, her bodil y d is play was sign ificant in her rise to stardom in North America, where her fhrta ti o us charm ("Look at me and tell me ifI don ' t have Brazil io every c urve ofm y body") and style of florid excess made her the premier symbol ofLatin-ness du ring her heyday. Showcased by Ho ll ywood in film s like T/tal Nighl in R io (1 94 1), Weekend in H avantl (1941) , Springlime in {he Rockies (1942) , and Busby Berkeley's extravaganza, The Gang's Al! Here (1943), Miranda was by 1945 the nin tJl -rnghest-paid person in the United States (Dibbell 44). He r Braziljan-ness was soon tW'ned into a generic " Latin" stereotype. What remained unnoticed in this United States translation was the source 01' her character and trademark costume (frjlIy dress with bare shoulders, oversized jewelry. and fruit-topped turban .) T o the Brazilian audience thal first saw this costume when it debuted in the film musical Banana da Terra in 1938, the stylization af the black haiana woman, often seen selling food 00 the streets of the northern city of Bahia and associated with the practice or the candomble religion , would ha ve be en immediately ap parent. As Julia n Dibbell has noted, Miranda's "racial cross-dressing" occurred in a Brazi li an c\imate ofiocreasing racial fluidity (44), but the o rigins and meanings attached to such recreations were lost on the middle-c\ass United States populations who flocked to her movies and samba-ed the nigh t away. For most North Amer icans, Miranda came to symbolize "Latin" music and dance. W itbin Brazil , a difrerent type of generiti7.ation took place. The samba. which developed in the African-Braziljan community and which M iranda hclped populari¡re in the U nited States. soon spread to all sectors of the Brazili an pop ulation and came to be a marker of "Brazilian " cul lure. Back home in Brazil, Miranda's increasing genericiza tion tlid IitÚe to endcaT her to her Brazilian audicnces. Eventual ly, years after her death in 1955, her image resurfaeed in Brazil, rec\aimed within the " tropicali smo,. movemcn t within the arts. In the United Sta tes. her irnage recirculales in the male "lIrag queen" pantheon of characters. her manu fa ctured st!xual excess providing ti ready-rnade performance persona , And it greels us in the sllpenmnkel in lhose lin le C hiqu ita banana stickers. cac h ma rkcd with a fli n y Mi randa lig urc T he Miranda case points o ut severa l aspccts 01' lhe transportalion 01' music "nll dantA: slyles. T he imrorlu l1l.:l' 01" lhe llla/iS rncu iu iJl l"'l\.: ilila lin!! sLlc h
sp l'l.:ad uu ring lb \: 1,1',1 '\() ~~,", II,I~ hel'l l C\\:C ptiollll l. S uch mcdia lcd imagcs lla tll!l1 lh e cClmp k'xlli\'!', l lf t lll' d, II1Ct.' sly lc (a s él s()cia l practice) inl O a " dancc" (transporled ;l~ a 'K'I ies 01 . . te p:. lo IIIl1sic) rcnH)vt::d fro lll ilS conlext 01' origin ami its com nlunity n I" pc lfo l11 lallee. Such representatio ns are a key factor in th~ reworking 01' lhe mea nings 01' lhese m ovements as [hey [rave\. Further, the identities once attached lo cerLa in styles 01' moving (associatcd with " bJack" or "w hite" or " mestizo " popul ations in Brazil, for instance) become genericized in the transportation, standing now ror a n undilTere ntiated "Latin ness," with original ma rkers 01' e1ass, racial identity, and na tional specificity all but erased. ls The erfeet of such generalLw tion is often lo rei nfo rce U.S. stereotypes of Latin Americans as overly emot ional. inefficient. unorgan ized . and pleasu re seeking. The very same quaJities that may be valued in Ihe movemen t characLcrizcd in the United States as sensuous, romantic, exp ressive, emoLional. heteroerotic, and passionate-rcinforce these stcreotypes even while they contributr to the perccption of th e dance in those same terms . (The unstated eq uation is that Latins are how th ey d a nce. and lhey dance how they are.) The fact that dancing is a bodily discourse only enhances the perception of these characteristics as " true" or truly expressive. The pleasure aspect of social dancing often obscures our awareness of it as a symbolic system , so that dances are often seen as "authentJc" unmediated expressions of psychic 01' emo tional inferiority. T hey are often taken as evidence of a "character." some times of a " national characle r," and often of " racial character. " Th is is where the non verbal aspect of dance and our general ignoring of movement as a meanin gfuJ system of \.:Ommunication reinforee popular beliefs about lhe supposed transparency of expressivity .
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Theatrical dance The pre.c eding discussion has focused on aspecls of identity. lransmission, and perception relating to the performance ofsocial dance forrns. Simjlar issues arise when considering the more highly codified dance fo rms of the professional theatrical wo rld. These forms are less likel y to be disseminated through the mass media and rely more on the physical tra nsportation or migration of perfomlers, students, teachers, and choreographers frolll one locale to another, especially when nationaJ boundaries are involved. There are differences. too , in this category between professional performance forms that are more or less popular. For instance. lhe dynamics are slightly different in the categories of show da ncing. like jazz or Broadway-style d a nce, than they are in the modern dance world . I wa n l lo dose by giving t\Vo brief ~xam pl es of the migration or dan¡;e lIly les m.:ross naliolla l h~)u n Ja rics. lhe flrsl look in g at ballet in C hina, the! la tler al s¡; kcl ~d :I 'ip\..'J.:1S nI' Latill Ame rican Illodc rn dance. r' \'1.:1I Ih oll).!h Wl' l\l i ~' 11 1 11,' 1 ~' I\lpICll lO uism iss Ihe il1lporta lion 01' ba llel lO <. 'hin
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:Il lllrlc x ili c~ \lf Ihe 1r¡1I1 "" li ~.~i o ll hclic SlIch H simpk cx pl:rlla Lion. Hallel in ('hina n.:p ré::ic nts a :.tl'iking caSe uf ¡¡ cr~olized form sl ill very much clllcrging. Il l!x hihits él cnmbina tion of movcments from the Sov iet ballet lradilio n ami Ihc Iheatrical da nce, folk dance, and operatic trad ilions of Ch ina. ' 9 In somc cascs, this mixture results in arresting momeots whcre half lhe body looks "Chinese" in ils lexicon of m omen l, and lhe other half looks "E uropean.";w In these cases, we m ight see the legs poised en p oi/He in a rabesque, while the upper torso, arms. a nd head a re molded into a d ramatic pose drawn from the Chinese trad itioo, especi ally the C hinese opera, where drama tic pa nt omi me playcu a large role. The C hinesc example is p
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forrm \Ve n: hcavily marked with elhnic associatiolls, and the g{wernmcn t wan ted to play down et hnic enm ities while celebra ting the nation as a wholc.) The narrati ve possibi lities 01' ballet lllay have bee n one factor in its adoption, as the leaders sought the crea tion of art that woukl rcinforce the tencls 01' the rcvolution an d appeal to the masses. F urthermore, it offered visi o ns 01' action and stren gth , th rough a combination of C hinese ac.robatic tradition s (also found in lhe opera) witb the leaps and turns 01' the ballet vocabulary. Slrauss notes that "h ighly extended p ostures such as attitudes an d arabesques and
( ' U I. I' IJ ltl ,bllcl: i ll ~ li lllll\ lfl'" 111 Ilw v,lIill llS l;\JlIlll ril.!s,"'o wdlll'. Ill tCln ational arts cx (hUn!!é :lItd h llld iflg pn lil.' ics. " W ith lm l ll'ying lo gClwru li/ e about the wide Ill llft: IIr I :11 in A mel'Íl:a n t hcat rica I cJam:e, let me d ose w ith brief exam ples lhal Ul'Il1 0 llst ni le sllHlutJ ti ng \JI" the va riety 01" I"orms and si luations encompasstxl. ~J Whcn dis\.:ussillg conlcl1lporary d a nce in Latin A merica. the range is very wide , and whik lhe I Jnit eu ~latcs tendency may be to think of Latin A merican dam;c in lel'llls of lhe p()pular and well-kno wn social dances , in ract a full range ol'traditi o n al ami c\Jntemporary styles coexist o n th e stage. The case 01' DanccBrazil is intcrcsling. Although based in New York , this contemporary wlllpany is COl1l pOSUU main ly of dancers born and trained in Brazil. Their rl' pe rtory co nsisls 01' wh al a r r ear to be stagings 01' ritual cerem onies basetl o n the A fro- RraziJian ("(/1lc!U/II/¡{(' rcligion , traditional capoeira (a ma rtial arts u.mce fOl'm) , the sa m ba, 'UH.I. to some extent, dance vocabulary derived from Amcrica n modero dance slyles . DanccBra zil rorcgro ul\(J~ its " nrazilness. " That in fact may be what it is sdling to both its E uro- Ame rican and Latin American audiences in Ne w York . In live antl Icleviscd appearances , this is a company lhat " stages" traJition. A televiscd performance presented on LJnited Slales public televi sion in 1989 was particularly interesting. Shown as part ofthe Alive from Off ('ente)" series. Dance8razil was contextualizeJ as part of a contemporary avant-garde showease. Ea ch week the series presents dance and performance works featuring (mainly LJnited States) artists outside of the mainstream. Susan Stamberg. the an nouncer, introduces the night's offcril1 gs with brief COlllments about artists who are reinterpreling traditional dances through "lIloJern sensibilities," the evidence of cultural contact. In fact , the words "culture contact" !loat by on the screen. On the show with DanceBrazil, inter cstingly, are a solo by Raul Trujillo , who reinterprets his American l ndian hcritage in "The Shaman ," and a duet by the Japanese-born , UniteJ States hased duo of Eiko and K oma. whose excrueiatingly slow movement underlines the sculptural qualities oftheir nearl y nude bodies in what Stamberg terms a lIIc1ding 01' Japanese Butoh and American avant-garde techniques . It is interesting that of these three examplcs of "culture contact ," only the Japanese piece is not based on religioLls riluals and " traditional" costuming. Japanese Butoh is a relalively recent stylistic development. and it may be lhat csscntializing the Japanese through a discourse 01' traditionalism is more dinlcult in the United Sta tes Jue to Japan's new position as our primary eco IIomic competitor on Ihe \Vorld financial scene. On the other hand , American Indians and Latin A meri cans may more easily be situaled within such a tradilionalizing/prim iti vizing discourse of preindustrialism . T rllji ll o 's piuce, whic h is first. SeIS the stage for the DanceBrazi l piece tha t 1"oI low:; . In fad. Imth len tllre la rge circles d rawn in tit e ca rth (lile ral/y, truck load s fu ll 01' uirl d ll l\lp~' d ill Ihe te levb ion studio). Trlljill ~) d ~lI1s tradil io nal An1l'ricun Indian dn:ss. I.:I Ill lplclC wit h lC ul hc rs, am ll'''ltl' l ~ ill'\:rctnlln ial type ()f dn lll"(' I hól f CUlldlldl'" w ith his vilnil'ihing in ,1 lli lly li,- hl. By the t jn1\.:
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Concluding thoughts 1 have argued throughout th is piece for an emphasis on the continua lly changing relational constitu lion of cultural forms. Concepts 01' cultural re sistance, ap pro p riation , and cultural imperialism are impo rtant for the light they shed on the unequal distribution of power and goods that shape social relations. And indeed these inequities may form a kind o f lim it or substrata that ultimately determines the topography of c ultural p roduction. But an overemphasis on such concepts can obscure the more complex dialectics of cultural transmission. Such concepts can overemphasize formal properties that circulate or are "Iost" in the process of moving from one group to another, thus reslllting in an inattention to the contextual specificity of meanin gs attached to 01' arising from the usage of formal properties, and obscuring as we)) the hybridization of such forms. I have also arglled for increased attention to movement as él primary not a seconda ry soci a l tex!, one of immense importance and tremendous challenge. Ifwe are to expan J Lhe humanj ties now to indude " the body" as text, surely we ShOllld include in that new sense of textuality bodies in motion, of whk h dance represents one of the most highly codified, widespread, and intensely affective dimensions. An d beca use so many of our most explosive and most tenac ious ca tegories ofidentity are mapped onto bodily difference, incl ud in g race and gender, but expanding through a continual slippage ol' categories t o include ethnicity and nationality and even sexuality as wcl !. we shoul d not ignore the ways in which dancc signals and enacts social idcn titics in a)) thcir continlla lly cha nging conflg uratlons . But lo do so wi ll re.qu ire spcdal tools. Alth ough 1 have be¡;n cm ph asizing lhe largor Ihcon!lil,;al lcvcl ~)f ana lysis l' j' the tranSl11issi(lfl :l nd !lyhridil.alión
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IIH:lhodill,'gics l"<Jr shllltl ing oad amlloll h hd\\ ~c n I he Illicr(, alld mal.:ro (hi s torié.a l, iJúo logical) k'vd s nI' 1l1()Wl11ent in wsliga li nn . rhe di lliclI lty o r thi s rcscan.:h will rcpay LIS well. expandi ng underst.lml 1111.' pI' Ihe wa ys in wh ich thc body scrves both as a ground fo r the inscriptio l1 01' llH.:alli ng. a lool for its enactmcnt, and a medúun ro r its con ti nual crearion and rccn.:atio n.
IIIO \'C IlI,'1I1 allalysis systerm¡ do and ha vc cxistcd , lhc)' are oftCII sl'llcrnalic al best o ro if vcry cornp lex like La parwla tion , ve ry dinicull lo read exccpt by those s pecilica lly lraincd a s pro fcssi,1nalno tators and reeo ll~truclors. In an y event, only a minute porlion 01' da nce practice is notated in any way . The field remains pre dominantly an "oral" t radilion , passed on from person lO person in both form a l and informal settings. Vi deo has rnitigated this problclll to some extent, bu l all video records are partiaL showing usuaJly one vis ual él ngfe and recording on ly one spccific performance of a dancc. 4 Here I am referring speeifically lo the posl-Enlighlenmenl scholarly lr
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Notes A Il earl y version 01' th is paper was p rel;ented at the eonference " Politics in M o tion: D .III\;e amI C ulture in La tin A me rica " held al D uke U niversilv [n the winter 01' 199 1. I lhallk lhe organizers Celeste Frazie r and Jose M lIn oz for in~iting me to speak. My lhallks ab" LO Jc nnife r W icke, Cathy Davidson , Bryan Wolf, and Jane Gaines ror !hc i.. hc lpful critiques on this materia l, and especially to Vi rginia Dorninguez ror h n ng illg lhe Mintz and Price material ro my a ttention. Thc dehates ahout what "cultura l :¡t udies" is, should , and should not be have illlcnsified during lhe lus t 10 years as the term has gained greater circulation and as ils practitioners ha ve gained increasi llg inslitutional power in the academy. I use lh i~ tcrlll in thc sen se 01' a group of self-n o minated scholars who affiliate theOl sclvcs and lheir work w ith such a term o Im plicit in its usage is usually a concept 01" c ritique, anlidisciplina rity , and of the illlportance of investigating the linkages bClween socicll/economic/political power and cult ural production. See Johnson anú the new massive collection Culfllral Studie.\", eúited by Lawrenee Grossbe rg. :ary NeJso n, and Paula Treichler, for discussions about the scope 01' cultural s lud ies. The A meri ca n version of cultural studies is ¡rrc
,""I/hculfllre: The lvfeal1ing ol Slyle. .., 1:0 1' cxalllple. see T homCls Laqueur's /v/aking Sex: Body amI Gel1der ji-O/J1 the ('rc!'!;.\' lo Freud and Emily Martin's The ¡'Vo/J1al1 in lhe Rody: A CullUral AI1(/ly.\' i.~ /Ir Rt'produCliOI1. FOLlcault's work remains a standard. Tlll' lIulllanities disciplines' elllphasis on words is exemplified in the histories oC Ihe úisciplines. The prestige of literature is followed by that of art histor)', which disc Lls~ed art historical objeets. Usually the ma.king 01' those objects is segrcgated illl" a se parate "art" departlllent. Funding aSylllmetries reflect the differen t aluat io ns placed on the aet 01' making "art"' versus the aet 01' writing aboul il. M us ic history and theory have attained él higher status in the acadcmy than dance history clue in part lo their more extensive writtcn history , both in terms u f crilicisrn a nd in terms 01' the mll ~ ica l scores th a t ~tan d in for live performance amI f1l>1'lllit ex tensi ve, rcfl ecli ve :it udy . Dramatic literature holds an amtfogo tls posi lion, th,lnks lo its wri((en lexts and extensive critical history. U ntil recentl y, da nce has rcmaincc! t he mOSl ephemeral of the arts, its "texts" existing primarily in lhc 11 IOllll'll 1 of vicwing an d leaving littlc in the way 01' material residuc . T his is olle I'em;o n why ilS h islorica l ¡¡nd Ihenretical anal ysis re presellls a re lat ivcly liny bod y ofw()rk . (1 :Irll al way~ n;mill d \.:d \lf lhe alliludc toward dan ce sclhl larsh ir whe" I 1'0 lo Ihe lihra ry a lld S\.':lrd l ¡ill' hl)\)ks th¡ll a re in vari ably liJ¡:d ill t he "l-'t'li o l1 lJolllldclf hv "P;)IIICS ;llIlll';¡ rd, ' a lid " lIl l1gie 1rieks a lid ll lc ClrClIS. " ) A It hou,l! h SOIllC
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pr;K·t in: W.IS vcry wid c ~p rcad . espccially ill a reas wher.: tlr u I la 11 pOJlllla tiOIl pn;u, 1111 illa ted. SOllle est im ales arguc t hat in areas li ke T inghsicn , !llorc than (llJ [,cn.:<.:nt 01' all te ma les born befo re 18lJO had bo und fec!. The anost severc practices \Vere rcserved fo r upper-dass wo rnen. A!t hough b'lth the Manchus anJ re rorme rs after 1911 revolution tried to ülltlaw the tradition, rootbinding was not fully e.~ tinguished until after 1940. See Slra uss, 28 - 30. 22 Whereas the transmission and transportation of social dance fonns is effccted by mass media ma rketing and population migratiolls, in Ihe profcssional art world (altho ugh population demographics llave somc influence) equally important are tire internal politics of each country (multiculturalism as a current funding panl digm in the United States, for example). and the circuit of cxchéU1ge set up among departments of state in va rious countries, as well as the internat ional av
Barteniefr, 1rmgard. Body ¡Vfow'menl: Coping 1t'i1h /he Envirollll1en/. New York: GordOll and Breach Science Publishers, 1980. Bhabha, t-J omi. "Of Mi micry and 1\'1<111: f he Am bivalcnce 01' Colonial D iscourse." Ocloher 28 (Spring 1984): 125 33. Bo urdieu , Pien·c. O¡lIline (~/(f 1heury O/Pri/CI;cl'. Trans. Richard Niee. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1977. - -o Dis/ille/iorl: A Social Critique of/he Judgemel/t orTas/e. Trans. Richard N iee. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1984. Dibbell, Julian , "Notes on Carmen: Carmen Miranda, Seriously. " Vil/age Vo;ee 29 Oc!. 1991: 43- 45. Dixon-Gottschild , Brenda. "Sorne Thoughts on Choreograp hing Histo ry." Chorco graphing H istory conference. Rjverside, U of California. Feb. 1992. Erenberg, Lewi s. S/eppin' Olll: Nerv York Nigllllife 189() - /930. Westport: Greenwood Press, 1981. Foster, Susano R eading D ancing: Budie.I' 0/1(1 Suh¡ec/s in Con/emparar)! American Dance, Berkeley: U of Califo rni a P. 1986. Franko , Ma rk. Dallce (/.1' Tex /: Ideologies (jI' /he Baroquc Boe/y. Cambridge: Cam bridge UP, 1993 . Gates. Henry Louis, J r., ed. "R(fce." Wri/ing, (j1U1 Di/lerel1ce. Chicago: U ofChicago P. 1986. Gilroy, Pa ul. ""Ethnic Absolutism. " G rossberg ct al. 187- 98. O ro~sbe rg, Lawrence , Cary Nelson , anu Paula Treichler. eds. CululI'al ,""ludies. New York: Ro ulledge. 1992. Ila ll , Stuar!. "C ultural Studies a nd lis T heorelical Legacies " Grossberg et al. 277 86. Ilcbd ige. D id . ,\lIh,."I/II r~', ni,' M ('(/lIillg o/5'tl'/('. London: Mcth uen . 1979. Jak ubs. J)e ho li\lr " 1111' 1Ii"ll' l v "r tire l'all gn ." Po li lics in Motion: Dance
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I'ho mas. ,'-'(lkillg Sex: ¡Jlldy (//ul G('/f(/er FIIIII Ih e O/,('ck.\' 111 Frcud. l lll lJ hr illgc: lIarvarlllJl'. 1990. 1 ¡ lpW . I\ na. Pa pel' (no title). Society for C inema Studies confere nce. Pittsb urgh. 1\J 9~ . Ma rtill , Elll ily. '1 he WII!tI(//,/ in ,he Body: A Cultural A/'/al.,'s is o/ Repm(!t/l:liol1 . Bo slon: Heacoll . 1987. M illt z. Sid ney W.. and Rich a rd Pricc . AI1 Anlhrop%gica/ Approach ID Ihe A/i'o American PasI. ISI Il O ccé:lsio nal Papers in Social C han gc, 2. Philadelphia: Im tit utc rol' thc Stlldy 01' Hu man Iss ues, 1976. Peiss. Ka lh y. C/¡ea" AI11t1.w:menls: Working WOl1len and Leisure in 7//1'/1 o/,he Cen,ury Nl' H' York. Philadelphia: Temple UP, 1986. Stra llss. G lo ri a. B. "Da nce and ldeology in C hina , Past al1d Present: 1\ St ud y o f Ballel in lhe Peop le's Re public.'· Asian amI Pacific Dance: Selecled Papers/roln ¡he 19 C. o. R. D. S. E. M. Co/'~kren('e . Ed. Adrienne L. Kaeppler, Jud y Van Z ile, and Ca rl W o lz. Dance Researc/t Annuol 8 (1977). 19 ·54. Llq ll l!1II
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42
T WINS SEPARATE D AT BIRTI-I? West African vernacular andWestern avant garde performativi ty jI] theory and practice Cynthia Ward Sourcc: Texl alld Perjiml/ance QLlarterly 14(4) (1')')4): 269 288.
T ho ugh often descrihed si mila rly in terms of their cm phasi s ()fl d ynamism , immcdiacy, diachronici lY, and performativity, Afri can and postm odern ava nt garue artistic praetices a re theorized as opposites in te rms of their cultura l positions a nd funct ions: one is considereu lrad itional , the other a nt i-traditional. By co m paring lhe idcological status, th e social f unction of lhe object, a nd pe rforma nce-audience relations in these two different cultural matrices, a vel'1lacu la r fllncli on ean be distinguished th at em pbasizes the social uses lO which an object is put over any trans cendenl 0 1' inherent significanee the objeet may be perceived to possess. Though ro r historie reaso ns th ese ve rnaelllar dynamics are dominant in West African popular/trad itional idioros such as the Togolese conccrt party. they ca n be seen to be o pc rative in No rth America n pop ul a r/pos tm odcrn culture as well.
Th eatricality may be the single most pervasive property 01' post Modern art. Howa rd F ox, Melaphor The famed unity of the arts in African performance ... demand s that \Ve start with the shared norms of performance, before considcr ing process or the function 01' a given object. drcss, or d a nce. R o bert Farris Thompson, A/i'ican An in M oüol1 Perf"o rma livc Ihcll trÍl:u lilY uppears lo play a Icad ing rol e on two stages ofcul turJ I cxpn;,sS\IIJ1l!ctl~'r; ¡J ly l"(ltl siJc rcd lo be radicall y separalc: t he postmodc rn
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roma l1\ lcl/.lIlg amI thus wmlTloJ ifyin g- lhe ::io-call e,d prilllit ivc a s lil e pre capitalist other, ultimately otTering líule in the way 01" a l'ri tiq ue th a l can productively address the issue. 1 Behind the lo Il uwing analysis 01' West African traditiona l vcmaoular performance dy na m ics, whichl wiU elabo rate most fully in rel ation to popular urban drama , rests an alternative noti on of traditi on tha t diverges significantly from tha t im pliecl in modernist and postmodernist formula tions 0 1" cult ure, Predicated UpOTl t he assum ption that West A fr iea has not been excl ud ed from the histo ry o l' the west but has been central to it, this mode of the tradition a l- f1uid , eontingen t, engaged- bea rs . a remarka ble resemblance to descriptions of the postmodern, but with a sig nifican l d ifference in terms o fwh o activates it and Irow. As such. it tloes have something to sayo To describe these dyna mics, I would like to return. as a point of departure, to the notion of operative aesthetic norms as manifested in the status and regard of the object. Let us look at two- for now- " rep rese ntalÍve" objects and their respective functions within the two·· -for now- "different" cultural spaces of traditional Africa and contemporary North America. O n the one hand is the iheji, a hand-carved wooden figure of a stylized human form fro m the Y oruba trad ition in West Africa. On the other hand is the Barbied oll, the comm odified object par excellence. A pi astil: toy whose cultural provenance is the United States and whose material origin is Taiwan . the Ba rbie embodies post-industrial global capitalist mass culture at ils m ost obvious- ancl per haps onerous.
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Barbie and oheji: twins separated at birth? Though seemingly worlds apart, these t\Vo objects share a numbcr of striking similarilics. Roughly the same height, both figures represent the human image in a mode that is considcred "realistic" according (o the mimetic criteria of their respective cultures and both are intended to be performatively animated by their possessors. Significantly, furthermore, both objects oceupy simiJar positions in a European cultural hierarchy that implicitly opposes both mass produced eonsumer objects and anonymously-produced ritual objects to uniq ue works of high artistic creation by individual artists. For, though the iheji can ccrtainly be considered a ritual object. and thus should exhibit the auratic qu ali ties Walter Benjamin attributes to such objects- inclucling those fram the cult of beauty- ,as a " primitive" object fro m outside European culture it is necessarily excl uded from the dialectic lh us described. As Benjamin himsc.1f implies, authcntici ty, which he relates to the presence of an original , is itself conti ngen t UpO I1 lhe possibility of mechanical reproducibility (243). In this sense, a lllllí.:nl il:il y fo r a rilual object con side red to predate the age o f meehan ical n:pruuu\:l illll is pn't!ÍI.'¡¡ tud 1101 on the ex istence of a unique original but 011 Iht: w ry nnlloll r11 p r chi~ 11l 1 ica l \'1 igin itsc1l'; in fad, kn owi ng lhe a rtist's lla me SUlll'l:lth tlll' u b!nl I~:I PI \1dllct \)f indi viu ua l gcnius andj-.'Opard izes (he
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\\h icl.: l's alltlll!lllidly. wh ich dcp\;: nds 011 ils being a p md lll:1 01' anonymOl1S "lfildil illn."" T hllS , lO lalk about Barbie o r lhe ibeji is lO n:fer simull a neously lo onc re pTcsentative and to the entire c1ass. One born 01" mass production and lhc olher born ofmass tradition . Barbie and the ibe}i sha re a curious kinship . W hat distinguish es these two o bjects is how meaning is made from them by lheir respecti ve societies as t hey are pe rforma li vely activated . Signall y. o f lhe l11any kinds o f objects subject lO a na lysis by po pul ar c ulture cr it ic~. Barbie secms to generate remarka ble concurrence as to ho w it mea ns . Wh ile dis agreement arises over h ow or even whcther violelll.:c in telev is ion , fo r example , alTects young viewe rs' behaviors, prodllcers. marketers. cons umer ad voca tes, con sumers, and cultural critics all seem to agree thal Ba rbie. pcrhaps beca use it is undoubtedly the perfect sirn ilacrLIm. the model wilh no origina l. l'unctions as a model for little girb in o m society. Recent public attenlion o ver a talkin g vcrsion of the doll that declared , " Math is ha rd! " was remark a b ly uncon troversial : no one seemed to feel it was preposterous to conjccture Lhat sUl!h a toy could aflect the range of career choices for women in our society and the doll \Vas subsequently removed from the market and rcfitted with more appropriate utterances. For while Ba rbie's ancestor, the baby doll , dictates the sole role of " mother," the Barbie- the ultima te mate ri al girl-when con sidered along with its compleme nt of accessories (ca rs, houscs, and , aboye all, costumes, inc\uding army fatigues) suggests a wider range o l' roles for wom en in a postmodern society . However, this ftui dity, which occurs as the result of a ma rketi ng strategy, intended to create ever- new demand for what is cssentially a disposable product, masks- and mark s- a n even more relent Icss limitation than motherhood , fol' identification with Barbic teaches girls in this society they are what they buy; it teaches them , above all. to be con sumers in order to bc. In terms of the traits by which little girls may identi fy with Barbie. howcver, the one consta n t among all her various styles- lhe infam o us d imensions that would be 48" x 18" x 24" in " reallife"- signals that ultimately Barbie is in essence an impossible model for little gir1s to live up tD. at least without succumbin g to plastic surgery: the ultimate imitalion of él pl astic d ol\. In this reading 0 1' Ba rbie and , by extension, ofa ny commodified object. the object has the ultimate pu rpose of engendering hum an s ubjects who interpellate themsclves as Barbie-like objects engaged in a never-end ing process whereby they continually strive to invest themselves with meaning and value via the objects they acquire. " The iheji is also intended to be performa tively acti vated as a h um an being, but in a very different manner than the Barbie doll . lheji mean¡¡ " t\Vi n" in Yoruba, and when a lwin dies a statue may be carved with generalized features in which only the gender and clan markings rel ate to t he deceascd. M ain tained on a domestic altar, il is da il y wa shed , dressed , red. cudd led, and p ut lo bed. amI it pa rti cipa tes a~ well in a nnual p lI bl ic da nces wi th lhe mother who 10sL Lhe l!hild . Thus, whilc Ba rbie is to be a model fo r lhe sclf, or m ul tiplc sdves. lha Lo ur sod cty 1.t!I Is liS lo oocome in o rder 10 bcco l1lc prcsenl lo ol hers
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"© Matlel Inc. 1966 Taiwan ," inscri bed on its lower back , suggesling a lra ns cendent ind ivid ual ity ulti ma te!y d en ied to it as we1l as to those who model themselves on it. Eélc h iheji, by co ntrast. is indi vidually produced but, as it LU rns out, passes up the chance to fu lfill what presents itself as Barbie's impossible dream : lO bccome "rea l" by un iting the origin a l a nd the copy in perfect correspondence. r or the eorrespondence between signifi ed a nd signifier indicated by the ihe}i docs llot embody an attempt to capture Ihe " rea l," the unique physical characteristics of the original. T he object d oes not "sta nd 1'01''' lhe absent person in a representati ve fashion. T he carvers could, conceivably, copy distinct ive reatmes of the original , rellectin g the age, slatus in lhe famil y, any J istin guishing scars or birthmarks of the deceased- but only the gender and clan are so marked . Indeed , such mimesis, according Lo art historian Robert Farris Th ompson, who has attempted to identify the aesthetics o f A frica n art by q uestioning a rtists, viola tes Yoruba aesthetics; Thompson wri tes that even in Yor uba po rtraiture , where we wo uld ex peet a stand.ard of ph ysica l fidelit y lO lhe original , "photographic Iik eness seems well -nigh insulting in its attention to warts and the ravages 01' age and hence is avoided as potentia l source 01' disco rd " be tween the artist and the subject being depicted (Black Gods 3/2). C haracterizi ng Yo ruba mimesis as " the cultiva ted expression of resemblances (jijora). no t likeness," Thompson notes tha t. unl ike in other aesthetic systems, t he goal is not to copy from "rea l life" so convincingly as " to confuse art with reality" (" Yoruba" 32). "Reality" - bere, the relati on between arust and subjeet, not the physical characleristics of the model takes precedence over realism. Above al l, thi s mim esis does 110t operate perspectively, with th e object framing a "rea lity" whose meaning the viewer may grasp, interpret, and internalize only by interpellating herself in relation lo the object. The function of the ¡heji. reftectedín its physical ch a racteristics. prohibits such él usage . " O bjectifying" the dead in such a nUl l1l1er is DOt an a ttempt to immortalize the specifie individual in order to evoke the memory of his or her " real " presence, so much as to signify the interrela lionships between individ ual s- living and dead- and their social env ironment. As Thompson explains, twi ns in West Africa are perceived to possess extraordinary powers. Linked both to the animal world in which twinning is common and to the spirit world where they are related to the th under god , twins, in this objectíve rorm , combine adult featmes such as breasts with ínfanl fcaturcs such as a large head and short Jimbs and are thus "a visual miracle announcÍng the p resence 01" the eX lrao rdi nary" (Black Gnd,' J 3/4). By emhodyi ng lhe stages of infancy a nd adulthood . the gcneralízcd cha ractcristics signify ü ther brcachcd hOll lld¡llic-;: hclween Ihe living ano tl ll' d cad~ an in1.t1s. hUlIllln" a nd gous; \( ,\
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1l is llly position, howcver, lhat Al'ril'an s()ó l:l ics ;In; not r r ~ .¡; ..¡pija li¡,l¡e jll a tcleological sense th at maps a prediclable pal h lha t '-oll ows " ú ur" loobteps - <.Iesp ite the rhctoril: 01' development. Jnoeed, Africa and African resources have been ins trumental to any dcvelopmen t ex perienced by lhe rest 01' the world; the invitation ex tended lo A frÍca ns to participate as consume rs of goods and ideology is onl y o ne development in a long-stand ing re la tion ship of mutual interaction and regan.l . The commod irying rorces of international capitali sm t hen operate, perhaps incompatibly, in botb directions, bringing to me a ritual artifact to a nalyzc, read , and write about (and , by so doi ng, cOlTlmodify), bringi ng th e west images of th e new, rnodern prim iti vc to gazc upon, and bringing Africans a plethora 01' A merican cult ural objeels-films, m usic, T-shirls, radioactive waste, capital ism. tu rkey tails, llsed c1 othing, Mich ael Jackson. democracy , C oca-cola, ami, yes, Barb ie do ll s- to deal with as they mayo But within this contact zone, there are many possible responses to these objects. Among others, there is one possibility that, just as the "a uthentic" iheji is easily commodified , drained of its " ritual meaning" and made to re present entire cultures, so, too, the commodities that eno up in Africa may become "vernacularized."
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The vernacular performative 1n triangulating between western popular culture, western " high " cult ure, and West African traditional culture, 1 ask my audience to keep in mind t ha t such cultural disti nctions may operate quite differently tha n in the ways gencrall y theorized by western academics. Kwame Anthony A ppiah makes this poin t in his book In My Father's J[ouse: Afi'ica in {he Philosophy (JI Culture. In the ch apter on "The Postcolonial and The Postmodern," Appiah writcs, "in Arrica .. . lhe distinction between high l:ulture and mass culture, ill sofar as it makes sense at all , corresponds by and large to the distinction between those with and those withoul western-stylc formal education as cultural wn sumers" (148). This is an important observation in terms ofalterations ofthe structural relations of these categories made by the shirt to Africa. For how can the distind ion belween high amI popular culture operate ideologically if high culture is marked as foreign? Appiah's answer is lhat it operates prim a rily at the leve! 01' the elite, the (western) educated , those who have staked their o wn iden tities in the system 01' cultural capitalism. And their response to the ideology is, undcrstandably, to resist it. Appiah usefully libera tes the term "postcolonial" from synonymizing "third world" and deeidedly situates it as a mcthod ofresistance pral:ticed by a western-educated elite. In so doing, he also d ea rs a ~ pac(; rol' other cultural practices that are neither motivated by nor cnl ird y free frnm \V0s1crn-gcnerated objects and eonce rns:
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I.llhll li:t lisrn. b u l II1 \!y ;In: Iltll a ll ill ti a: rclcv; 1I11 'l' II Sl' I'tJ.I'tcolollial. h lr tia:. /111.1'/ in r ostn)lun ial, like lhe 1'0.1'/ in posllllutlcf ll is Ihe post 01 Ihe ~pacc-dearing geslure ... amI man y area s 01' con lempora ry Arril'all cllllurallire - whal has come to he lheorized as popular c ul 1111'1.\ in particular - are not in this way concerned with transcending, with g ning bcyo nd. colo nia lity. lndeed, it might be said to be a mark DI' po p ul ar culture that its borrowings from international cultural 1'0 1'111 S are remarkably insensitive lo- not so Il1Llch dismissi ve of as h lind to - lhe issue ofneocoloni a lism or "cultural imperialism ." T his loes not mean lha t theories ofpostmodernism are irrelevant to these 1{lrl1ls 01' culture: rol' lhe in te rnalional iza tion ol' the ma r ket ami lhe cO IlHTlodificalio\l of artworks are b oth central to t hem. But it does mea n lh al these artwork s are \lot understood by thc ir producers o r Ihci r consulllcrs in terms of a postmodernism: lhere is no antecede nt practice whose claim to exclusivity of vision is rejected through these artworks. W hat is called " syncretism " here is made possible by the in tc rnali on a I exchange of commodities. but is not a conseq ucnce 01' a spacc-clcaring gcsturc.
(149) Sincc Appiah i.,' concerned with the postcolonial , he ends his discussioo ot' popular Afriean culture at this point , but leaves us wi th a strong sense Ihal mosl operative distinctions bctween " high ," "western," and "traditional" Dhjects are collapsed by the cultural production a nd reception practices Ir Iwp ular/traditional , especially urban , African audiences. The resulting "sy m:n:tislIl ," I might add. is syncretic only to those used to recogni zing itl '''lilrorent'' cultural objects indices of difrerent identities; fluidity betwecll sIH.;¡¡l kd cultural and cthnic boundaries is the pre-eolonial norm in much ut' suh-Saharan Africa, 01' , as a student lold ethnomusicologist John Miller ( 'hc rnol'f, "we are traditionally socially adaptable " (165).4 By tr
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l his matle il ¡Ilega l t'orTngo lcscd lil:c ns ft) usc Euro peall lifsll1alllcs. Is lhc rae! thal many pcople prolCssi o naJs, urba n wurk t!rs. ll nd v illa gers continuc lo orally rerer to themsel ves amI each other as Malhil dc, Edollard, Chanlal , 01' Patrice indicative of lheir blindness lo their colo nized silualion'? Or is such a laük of regard for lheir "a uthe ntic A frican roots" resistance of another kind? 01' is it " traditional "'?Or, flnally , is this J istinction, in fact, o perati ve? It may be that resistancc to sllch imperatives is a contemporary instance of tradit ional ways of circulating and diffusing power. in the sense thal l ean Baudrillard writes 01' potlatch in 1/1e M irrcJ/' 01 ProduCliol1. Or it may be something cisc. ] would likc to, at this point, introduce another set oftenns , to t ry to resituate the operalive cultura l distinctions I have been discussin g. F or it would be confusing, ir not misleading, to continue to distinguish bctween African cul ture and \Vestern culture in speaking of those who do not rega rd a westcrn object like a Barbie doll as standing for No rth America in opposition to A frica. Rather, by attcnding to the uses to which objects are pul , we might find it more useful to distinguish between "ve rmicular" uses and " market" uses of objects. I take the tcrm from Ivan JIlich 's revitaüz ed sen se of the R oman juridical meaning whieh designates objects standing outside the realm or consumption and production , lhe " in verse ora commodity[,] .. . those thin gs . .. not destincd ror the m arket place. but that are for home use only" (68). This distinction is not intended to be descriptive of a speeificall y African 01' non-western practiee. so much as to offer an alternate framework for under slanding cultural " production and consumption" in general. Perhaps examples froll1 North American popular culture would thus pro vide the best illustration. Janjce Radway notes in the introduction to the 1991 edition ofher 1984 sludy Reading lhe Roma/lce that she initially intendcd to contrast interprctations of romances as read by literary critics with the interpretations made by popular consumers. She soon diseove red in her inter views with the subjects ofher stlldy that her questions about " the mea n ing of romances" were answered with discussions aboul " the meaning of romance readi/lg as an activity and a social event in a familial context" (7) . Radway \Vas subseqllently not only scnsitive to this distinction , but makes it central to her analysis, which eventually produced two separate conclllsions about "the meaning of the act [of reading] and the meaning of the text as read " (210). The kind of reading the women insisted on 1 would label vernacular: " for home use ." R adway, interestingly, draws from this distinction the conclusion that while the romances' narrative structures " cmbody a simple recapitula tion and recommendation of patriarchy and its constituent social practices and ideologies ," the aet of reading, hy clea ri ng a time and space for \\lomen to focus on her own desires ami needs . " is oppositional beca use it allows the women to refuse mo menlarily their self-abnegating role" (210,61). Alo ng these same lines . S usan W illi s o fters an a ltemalivc view of Barb ie. based on lhe use to which t he uoll is pul hy child rcn th\!msclvcs. W illis obse rves thal nccall sc Ih,'ir cx pcricncc of cap it:i1 isfll is l1Iore rece nt a lld kss imnlt'dia tc. ill
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Illd, pl ay t.: h ildrcJI "t r¡I II¡; l"lltl1l com mod ities into use values and usc thcse as II ICll lh articll lati ng thcir social relationships" (32). Seeing in this trans Il lll lla llOIl a " rcvo lutionary challenge" tha t would "liberate the socia l from thc 'olll ml lCJity l"o rl11." Willis al so ackno wledges that the dynamic gencraUy oper ¡Il es in rcvc n,e and that "socializa tion into capitalism is a proccss of lea rni ng lo slIbstitulc alienation and commodities for human rela ti onships " ch ildren dc vl'iopcd in carlicr play (33).1 would be somewhat Iess firm abo ut attribut IIlg an csscntially subvcrsive function to the vernacular. R ather, T wo uld see dny il11erp n~tatioll of its meaning at any given moment as too contingent to i'; llla tl~ . Indccd. ir there is any subversive characteristic of the vernacular it II lillhL hc ¡( )ulld in its resistance to mean ing-p roduction itself, for such attempts 111 IlI ake il " mean" in any abstract sen se drag it bac k in lo the real m of the !,;\llll l11 odily . .¡ ' h ~llI gh . as th is example implies, the vcrnacular is operalive in industrialized ami post-industrial societies, it is m arginalized and pathologized by its "sub l'1I11I1ral" status in these arenas. In West Africa, where, as mentioned before, dislinctions bctwccn high and low culture cannot exert such a powerful id eological force. a distinction is implicitly made instead between ve rn a cular bol h "popular" and "traditional" · and market uses of objects. This disLinc 1ion is reinforccd by the linguistic situation in West Africa, where vernacular lall g uagc:; inc1uding pidgins and creoles-are used alternatively with litera te, "productivc" European languagcs. Bccause of these factors, the vernacular is. in Wcst Africa, the dominant mode of cultural reception and permeates IIcarly evcry aspect 01' Iife, public and private, urban and rural.
111 Wcst African performance genres, the dynamies 01' the vernacular are p;rrticularly cvident in the audience, an arena that has proven to be central yd highly problematic to performance theorists. Since Bertolt Brecht, the pl)lllIlar
itsc1 I=- - " perfárm." from Latin lo fúrl/i.l'¡' - el1lpJ¡as i l,~s ma tc ri ality al1(l COI11 pletion. the pTcscntation ol' a finishcd objcct.) The Hudicncc's activity is lim ited to ident ification with thc roles being rcp rescntcd by thc actors, whose "reality" slIpersedes that of the audicnce. Like Barbi c do lJ uscrs, the auuience can he only by euteri ng a cycle of image consumptio n, by becomi ng, in He rbert Blau's words, '·the representative ideal of its own represcntation s" (4). 111 assessing Brecht's experimen ts w ith the A-effect aJld lh e "participa to ry strat egies of postmodern performance, " B lau pessimistica lly concJ uues in his 1990 book The Audience that "all performance occurs within a domain ofbehavior that is attentive to an absence, the estranging datum of the process of watch ing. its unnegotiable dis ta nce, and the degree to which d ivision the unstable subslance 01' theater, mirrored in lhe event- has since beco me its s ubject. W hatever, then , the alien thing in sight, it resists and is further divided b y the double alienation 01' thc activity of perception" (51), Anyone who has been part of a West African audience kno ws that there such division and alienation simply do not cxist. Far from being the typical audience Brecht describes as "motionless figures .. , [wb oJ scarcely commun icate with each other , .. [who] seem relieved of activity and like men to whom somcthing is being done" (1 87), an African alldience's active involvement in the performance violates the d ivision between alldience and performer that B1au cJaims is inherent in all performance. M y fl rst cncollnter with an African audience was at a Memphis Slim concert sponsored by the A mer ican Embassy in Lomé, Toga . Towards the end of tbe concert, M emphis Slim invited an audicnce member hc knew to come up to the stage and take his place at the piano. Soon after. another member of the audience carne up on the stage, uninvited, and took thc drummcr's place. What happened after that seemed Iike chaos to me at the time. but in retrospect it was an orderly proccssion 01' audicnce members replacing each other, onc at a timc, as performers. all allowing their prcdecessors ample time to get in thcir own Iicks. The remaining alldience's response was immediate and vocal. Tbc embassy personnel, however, became frantic and succeeded in ending the concert only by removing the instruments from the stage. This same intensive interaction is exhibited in other, even less seemingly interactive entertain ment genres as well. Movie going is the best example. Whether at a village arena showing Hong Kong Kung Fu films or at an international film festival hosting high-placed dignitaries, the audience's ongoing verbal engagement \vith the film a nd each other patently prohibits lhe kind of isolated, interiorized, silent "reading" 01' ft lms so crucial to readers al' film as both high art and popular entertainmcnt. Far from being l ile uncultu red response 01' L1l1tra in ed, sc1fish "cretins," as IiIm cri tic Edward GUl hmann ma in lüill s in a recen l San Francisco Chronicle article en titl ed "S h hhh ! T .. lking u ! lhe r...hlV ics Ilas GO ItCI1 O ut 01' C ontrol." lhis insislence 011 "taH.in !' :It thl: Ill(wics'· h~l s a sl rollg c tl!l u rul basis in " Irudi linlla l" West Arri~lIn r e l 1"111 [nll llcc.' P\'r ll )flll lllll'C in Wcsl Arrica is nol
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111\' ha... iN 01 11 11: vil lll osity uf I h ~ lillislt\: d W II I ~ Ihe obj ccl IIl'l.'ordi ng lo ;J hSl l'iI~1 sl'lIId a , ds 01' l'xccu lio ll as nl lll.: lr t i;' (lll Ihc Jcg rec to wh,,: h tlr l' <1l1die ncc 's OWII pc rfünl'Iat ive respo nse it; cl ici tcd. A udicnce apprecia 11011 I. hclI , invol vcs 1I0t passi vc listening and applause at c1osurc, but immediate lI ud adivc res pollse. As Chcrnorrexpla ins in rc1ation to musical pcrforma m:e. ' \ '11 (' whu ' hcHrs' lhe music ' und ersta nds ' it wilh a dance " (143). It is no!. IlOwt.:vl!r. a du m:c that "Iav ilih ly fOllows the lead sel hy the nl usici an s' heat b ut OIlC that is creatcd from the gaps in the polyrhythmic music: "'hea ring' [i.e ., dancing to] the beatthat i~ never soundecl " (ChernoIT 155) , T he performance is lI(Jt OIl C way , with the performers "calling" and the aud ito rs " respond ing" ; a J ial og uc emerges whe n th e ft o w reverses and lbe perfo rmers themsel ves rcspond to the new bea ls initi ated by the dancers. F urthermore, this d ia log ue is engageJ not only between performer a nd audience, bu'! also between allJ ience memhers - lhc da ncers who relate rhythmically to each other. T his di,li ngue involves communicative I.u rn-taking, with one dancer at a time takin g Ihe "stage: ' demonstrating indi vid ual style, but a sty\c tha t is ultimately jlldged not hy virtuosity in execution but by sen sitiv ity to the other danccrs. ('hornoff thus adv ises rcaders/would-be dancers, "W hat matters is the rela tionship of m ovcment, and [other danccrs] will be more easily charmed whcn you are subtle, pcrhaps even hardly m oving, than when you are showing off or doing tricky or po sed steps. [They] will know that you are trying to com Illunicate personally and not with an imagin ary alldience" (147). The " imaginary audience:' is, ofcourse, the absent audience that fi\mma kers imagine for their movies, that authors writing in silence imagine for thcir texts. that musicians rehearsing in an empty hall imagine ror their perform ances. This imaginary rclationship is maintained by modern western per formers and audiences even whil e oceupying the same time and space. In West At'rica, the audience's patent refusal to "act" imaginary is baffting to scholars trained to " know" a culture by its ohjeets rather than its reception practices. with the result that scholars often ignore the audienee altogether. This means that quite often what is touted in book reviews and Iitera ry journals as an "authentic African voice" is one seldom "heard " (i.e., "read ") by an African audi cnce, while popular idioms are ignored .(' Less textualized , less accessible to western alldiences, and less susceptible to ohjectification ano interpretation- -often not even "African" in provenance, as in the case of the popular K ung Fu and Hindu romances sh owll in urban movie houses- s uch idi om s are largoly ignored by scholars as Lmrepresentative, inauthcntic, a nd/o r unsophisticated. S uch idioms also lack the
West African popular t heatcr to some extent defies definition. It can be callcd an urban form of popular vernacular-Ian guage entertainment practiced from Ghana to Nigeria , combining the performance genres ofmusic, song, poetry, drama, and comedy; hui qu ite 01't en it is taken to the country via Ítinerant troupes , quite oftcn it is perfonned in ways nr places that restrict its audience to an elite, quite often it is perfQnn0d in or cm pl oys Europcan languagcs. and q uite often it stresses Orle 01' the gcnrcs over the o then;, as rcflcctcd in lhe vario ll!i fo nn ulations illi pracLitiOIl\:r¡., ha VI: II S(!t! i 11 1I:lllli ng.1 heir I r~) U pes: "1 ' olk Ope ra, " " \<)!1cerl Band ," "T h ~H t" c ]'.. Ity," "J(I!.-I." ·S B :1I 1Ú . " ;rnú "AfricHn
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TUrIlt:r optimistically wrote in 191)2. "T hc c thnollfu ph ics, Iiteratu res, ritual. and lheatrical traditions 01' the world now lie open to ll~ as the hasis for a new transcultural com municat ivc syn thesis through pe rfo rmance " (18). But whether theorized as the lack 01' a wo rldwide c(ll'I1l'11unitas or the degradation 01' the eommunal ego by industrial and postindustrial socielY , the failure to effcctiveJy app ro pr iate those forms has been attributed to a radical difference bctween primitive and modern "man. " Ho wever , performati ve t heatricality a s it operates within secular, urba n West A frican idiom s- wbjch respond to many of the same imperatives that influence "western " genres- is not so easily ascrihed to exotic forms of ritua.l ized hehavior. It TIlay be the o ne road to activating this performati ve thcatricality is not a matLer o f adapting --non western" fo rms 01' performance to western theatrical m od es but of examining the non-alienable effects the urban W est African audience exerts on even recogn izably western forms and genres . Directing attcntion to the idioms In which African audiences popularly pa rticipate rather than to the forms , genres, or individual works of art tl1 at lend themselves to textual an a lysis and interpretation is not here intended to yield a more corred reprcsentation 01' Arrican culture; rather it is mea nt to suggest to the present audience somc ways non-pa rticipation in western metaphysics has been historically and is still articulatcd . West African "Con cert Party." a popular idiom that comhines drama , music, poetry , and dance, p.rovides such an examplc, and my oriel' discussion of it will not attempt to define the genro or interpret the content 01' the ind ivid ual narratives , but will focus on how mini mal textualization cncourages increased audience participa tion and, at the same time, resists overt forms 01' oppression as well as more subtle forms of cultural objeetification. Here performance opera tes not in the mode 01' tho Royal Shakespeare Company to embody and transmit c ultural capital, 01' cven didactically in the mode 01' the San Francisco M ime Troupe , El Teatro Campesino, or the Brcad and Puppet TheateT to initiate social action , but as social aetion itself, in which the audi ence and performer par ticipate in a process of affirmation 01' their own and each other's significanee over that of the ohject.
"K/coko(u)vito concert party"
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Mw,I \: Rc~ct lll."h Pllrl y ," 1I va l'il!s from \!Ounlry lo co ulI lry. froITI ethnic group 111 ci hllil' gl\l llp, fro lll IrCl UpC lo Imupe, frolll perfo rmance lo perfo rmance, :llId is \.!onl> lall lly cha nging. Whether its origins are indigen o us, Ell ropean, or a l;o l1lbillalion 01' the two, is contested .1 It also varies in regard lo degree of luX luali¡,alion, both in terms of how it is performed-scripted or improvisa lioll aL ill runs or in one-night stands. at permanent or mobile venues- a nd in IcrlllS 01' how it is received- reviewed. transcribed, published , recorded , and slIbjcc led to scholarly analysis. While the foml is highly developed in Nigeria alld , lo a Icsser extent, in Ghana- where it is the basis 01' a burgeoning tele visioll a nd film industry , the fOCllS 01' this paper is on concert party in Togo, whc n: il is probably the most nebulous: only one troupe was opera tive between 1984 19l'6. and it was, as discussed below, highly non-textllal. x Ui vi!n my critical concerns , my immediate problem is how LO describe T ngulcse concert party to my present, "imaginary" audience-one, wh om 1 imag ine, will be unfamiliar wi th the topie and expect a more or less "objeetive" dcst,;ription- wi thou t retroaetively text ualizing the thirty or so perfo rm illlces I partieipated in into a "genre, " susceptible to the kind of objeetifieation I :ll\1 arguing the idiom resists. Short of taking my audienee along to a few pcrl"ormances, however, l cannot entirely avoid this consequence so instead will compromise by presenting a description that 1 ho pe will reinscribe the problematies ofaudienciality. It is a description ofthe first two performances I a!tended, prepared for a speeific, unimaginary audience. It was written to Illy two children, then ages six and ten, who had already been to Togo for a six-week visit.
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Dear Dears, We had a busy weekend. Friday night and Saturday night we went to see something called a concert party. \t's like a play with music. \t's done by a group ofmen who put on the plays at a different place cach night on the weekends. The name ofthe leader- and his group is Cocovito. They always perform in Ewe amI Mina. On Friday Saul and l \Vent by ourselves and though we didn't understand what they were saying, we had a good time . \t was at a bar on the road from our house to town. I t \Vas in an open courtyard . By Ihe time we got there at 10:30 it was ful1 of people. We had to sit in the back and eould hardly see where the band was pl aying- there was no stage. People kept coming and by the time the aetors came out, the place was {Jacked, with people standing at the back. T hey began with short "bits" like comie monologs- before the play s(arted. One guy eame out \Vith a wig a nd messy clothes and did a sal ire 01' regga~i t was reall y fu nny . TIc san g a Bob M arley song in Engli<; h then a pa rody of it in Mina. 111en lhe play sta rtcd , It was a bOul t hi:; glly wh o was suppose<.l lO marry a WOman b ul shc 111 11 <> 111"f with somC~) Il C cisc instcad. who fina 11 y di~s \,f a 111';111 allaá.
¡ he wOll!an was p l ay~u by a mau ill WUIT1 \.:1l\. dolhes. I le \.vas !lO gt)Od Ihat it was ha nJ lO te ll rol' a kmg time thal he was a man! 0 1' course We J idn 't get 1110s1 0 1" the jokcs, bul everyone was "rol1ing in the aisles." When Cocovito came on everyone dappcd . He was real/y funny. Even we laughed al his expressions and the sil1y things he d id. The play lasted until about 1:40 am . The next da y Edouard , the guy who sel1s us eggs and chickens, remembe r him ?- came by , and invited LIS to go see C oeovito [hal night. (Wc've been ask ing people abo ut him fo r weeks.) Sinee he 's Togolese, he could translate for uS. W e deeidcd we wo uld go, but stay only ir it was a different play. We didn't go until after Z oom was over so we got there late and the place was all fil1ed up - -people werc standing arollnd outside but couldn 't get in. 9 it was at a differcnl place- this time io a neighborhood- not in town . A guitarist from the band saw us an d recognized us from the nigbt before (there \Vas only one other yovo there) and said to fol1ow him. IO We went in through the bar and callle out right by the stage! They had se! up some benches for us. On th e way in the guitarist said , " you're Americans? That's good. That"s good." We found out why that was good later. There were hundreds orpeople packed into the courtyard. Because it was in a neighborhood, lrus time there were a lot of kids. They al1 sat in the front. The "bits" had aJready started. Edouard explained to us what they were saying and it was real1y funny. One guy- the one who played a \Voman the night before- came out dressed in rags and said he was one of three brothers who were sent out in the world to earn their fortunes. One brother \Vas sent to France, one to America , and he was sent to Nigeria- e veryonc laughed beca use Nigeria had just thrown out al1 non-Nigerians and that explained why he was dressed in rags. Then he told about al1 the things that had happened to him in returning. lle said his brothers had al1 come back in airplanes , but he took a bush-taxi, and because the driver couldn't understand him, they drove through Lomé and \Vent to Accra--- in Ghana. /-le made a lot ofjokes about Accra, Ghanaians, Ghi:Lllaian women , then women in general. He said he would stop tel1ing jokes about women if the women paid him , so the \Vomen thrcw him money. Then he said, " Now, I'm going to talk about men, unless you men pay me enough money to shut up. " So the men began to throw him money. He picked it up , counted it. shook his head (it wasn ' t enough) and told his jokes about meno T be play was a d ifTtrent play. It seemcd funnier rhan the one the n ight before. T he .saine man I"layeJ a woma n uga in wh o has JU SI marrieu a wel1- Lo-Jo ma ll. Two 1Ol:11 (.:(lmc lO 111.:1' hO llSI.! 10 lry lo la kc 111:1' ¡¡ way fro lll 11 1.:1 It u::.b:1I 1\1, 0111': h. <. \ll.:\w ill' (w llll 1111 11); o ul laln In
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h..: hél hll!)\¡and 's co usin ). I'he l)\hcr daims to be a n A nl\.:rican airplane pilo\. T hey Ilavc (hree contcsts tú prove who is A merican (that was wll y Ihl~ guitarisl said it was good we were Americans) . One is for "speaking English" (they said it in English). That was funny- it was all Black American slang-·and the audienee seemed to und erstand! The next was "soul da ncing. " The last was "walki ng cool." T he a udi ence wen l crazy. The a irplane pilot won. He convillced the woman to kili her husband wi th poi son. She did, then it turned out the guy \vas Iying- he didn't even have a jobo When the play was over (no one applauded a l the end- they just got up a nd left.- and the actors didn' t take bows), Cocovito cl'lme over and sh oo k ollr hands. I can 't wait to go again. The only problem was that Edouard was laughülg so hard . he d idn 't have time to transJate for US o 1 wish yOll guys could ::iee it.
While the content 01' the plays described offer a lot of interesting fodder for the cultural critic in terms o f mes sages about gender. nationality, and culture, 1 want to call attention to other aspects of the performances. Even from this narrative, it should be clear that the value of the performance is not as a polished, nnished object; at \east it is not recognized as such by the audience , who do not applaud at thc cnd but seem to take the performance with them back into the streets and real lite, never having left those realms at aH. Throughollt the preparation and performance, the bo undaries between play ami reallife, audience and pcrformer, are called into question . The locations 01' weekend performances, whieh change from night to night, are not pub lished in the newspaper or announced by posters as they are in Nigeria and Ghana, but depend on popular dissemination by "radio trottoir"--word-of mouth. The venue is not set asidc by its theatrical function; usually it is a bar or under a neighborhood trec, places where people gather to relax and talk. Thc performance begins gradually, with the aetors and musicians playing popular songs almost as background music for the bar patrons. Over a two hOLlr peri od, the audience slowly drifts in: men and women (often with infants sleeping on their backs) sitting on benehes in the courtyard of the bar, ami older children sitting in the sand in front. By tcn o 'dock , when the place is fuI!, the instrumental music seems to incorporate the bar talk discussions, as the actors present topical commentary in the form of comic monologues and Ewe-Ianguage parodies of popular songs by African and American recording artists. The dramatic narrative is not scripted but improvised upon a pre-determined story line, and thus subject to f1exibility in respon se lO the audience, who is alm ost never silent. And cvcn when si len L. audience mem bers a re not ignored- apparently OUT p rcsence on th e prev io us nigh t inspi rcd lhe bit abou t Arne ri c
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loudly discllss thcir charactcr a nu bdlavior. Tlle audience's act.ive response is cncollragcd by thc actors, who are rewarded, not for "good acting," but for the virtuc or sufTcring oftheir characters, when individual alldience members come up to thc "stage" to give them money. The paramount cvaluative eriterion is the degree to wbk h audienee par ticipation is invi ted . Ebun C Iar k points out that as the Yoru ba theater trou pe of H urbert Ogunde adoptcd im p rovisational teatures of G hanaian C oncert Party, its popu larity increased , " because the audience from now on we re able to participa te totally in their thealre " (121). When the value of a performance lies in the ability of the audiencc lo p articipate and not in the brilliance of a wrilten play. in the political importancc ofits message. in a virtuoso interpreta tion o f a role, or in being able lo c1aim to have seen such a touted play or perform ance. then the signitlcance ofthe narrat.ive tex l itself dimin ishes. T hus. it shou ld not be surprising th at, during two years of attending Kokouvito performances, 1 saw only one play repeatcd . Clearly, the content ofthe pl ays is not considered important enough to nx through repetition , and recording 01' transcribing a play in order to provide a material text to authorize inter pretation and analysis wO llld ignore priorities madc by the performers and audience alike. Even the name 01' the troupe and the lead actor , Kokou vito/ Kokovito/Cocouvito--which I saw written only thrcc times, each time spelled differently- seems to ignore textualization. More importantly, such an undertaking wou1ld be subverted at the source. Karin Barber, who worked with a Yoruba troupe for th ree years , observes that while the plays' messages appear to be conservativcly didactic , partic u larly in relation to women's behavior. the audiencc's demand for immediate gratitkation of their desires for the effects 01' comed y and verbal arts works to undermine any authoritative viewpoint. Barber condudes: Despite the vehemence with which the play seems to be insisting on its point. we may sense that we are in an ideological universc where almost everything is negotiable, relativc, and not nnally deter mined . . .. This shifting self-subverting quality could be seen in terms of the thcatrical acsthctic of immediate impact, the opportunistic exploitation 01' every etTect for its own sake ... all these stunts pro duce the same cffcct, of self-caneelling irony. (26- 27) The broad style of acting the audicnce demands not only encourages audicnce response, it prevents the performance from falling into a representa tional model 01' reality. Echoing T hompson's observation that Yoruba aes thetics d o not confuse art with realiry but strive ror a "'mid- point m imesis' belween a bsol ute a b::;lractions a mJ a bsolute likeness" ("Yoruba" :U¡, Biodun Jey ifo nOlés in rela tion to Yorubu popula r thculrc t hul acti ng slylc is nOl in ll.:lllk d to "\;opy n:ltlll\:": \'/ 'i
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II is spccifieally the audience, Jeyifo daims, who refuses to identify with any Hrca lily" other than their own , that insures objective criteria of realism cannot IIS11rr lhcir role as active partieipants: " J\ nd in un important sense, a dynamic par! 01' this 'meta nature' is the presence and participation of the audien ce . 1:, ,r lhe magnifieations, repetitions and heightening of word, aetion and gesture an; scaled , not lO somc pre-existent. regulati\ie norm 01' internal struetura l a lld stylistic consistenee in ' art', but to the mood and piteh 01' the eharaeter islically liberal interventions 01' the audience" (20). The active participation of the audience is elearly a crucial element 01' lhe " metanatural" nature of the perrormance , an element that experim en tal lheatcr I'requently strives to activate in vario LIS ways, such as by taking the pcrrormance into " real life" as does the Bread and Puppet Theater a nd by l~ lIIphasizing the performative aspects of theater over the aspects that pro dllee a sense of a finished work. But success in "activaüng" the audience too lll'¡¡;n ultimately depends upon crealing a special audience . Schechner dis li ng uishes between an integral audience-·"people who know each other, are involved with each other, who support each other" - and an accidental alldicncc ·-"a group of people who , individually or in small clllsters , go to Ihe lheater" (195 , 194). Although this formulation sounds like the dilTer l'llCC between an integrated communÜas and groups 01' alienatcd individ lIuls, Sehcchner projects this distinction upon both cultural formations : hi s cXHmplcs ofintegral audiences inelude members at a wedding, podium digni ta r ics , and tribcspeople at initiation rites. He also gives as an example audiences 01' avant-garde performers, who are conscious 01' their own distinction from Ih\.! " convcntional " accidental alldience. This type 01' self-conscious activati on it~c l r can be problema tic, working to actively a/lirm the rift between pcr ronncr and audience. Schechner report s that when a spectator began talking ha ek to Spaulding Oray in a 1973 Performance Oroup production 01' Sam Sh\.!pard\ '/h" Tool/¡ oICrime, audience l11cmbers a lso responded- to sil cJlcC Ihe in terlocu tor. saying "ShUl up! Let the actor acl!" T ho ug.h o the r audiencc rl1l'il1bcrs hcgan sho uli ng "Lel hi rn ,.,ay wh at he wanh' D on ' \ sh ll( hi m up!"
II w illtc n.' hallgc l a.~led o nl y " u ntil a cica!' SUl ISC dl'w lo(1l'd thal ll10st 01' the peoplc wantcd lo seo lhe play" a/lJ wo rkcd mainl y to mo bilizc the audience "on the si de 01' the playas a play" ( 11)4). But an other, 1110re crucial , problem arises when Schechner con trasts this (anti-)mo biliza Lion wi th the L iving Theater's Parodise NO IV, which was " des igned to open lo (or break d own into) audience-performer and the audience audience interactions," and which he claims succeeded in mobilizing the audience " on the si de ofthe playas alead-in to direct action" (194). Pointing o ut that performance is always implicitly "Jjcensed " b y lhe audience, Schechne r adds tha t " most 01' tbe time the audience doesn' t know its own power " (1 94). It is tbe business of such performance art to make the audienee conscious of th is power. Ilowever, it can do so o nly by separating the integral rro m the " normaüve " accidental audience, which remains excluded fmm this k now ledge a nd immobilized by its lack 01' consciousness of its own power. Li ke other binaries, integral and accidental only have meaning in rcl a tion lo each other; just as the " selr" depends on the " other ," the " integral audience " depends o n the "accidental audience"- or, one might just as well say, " pop ular a udience." Thus, the rift between high and popular culture is implicitly reaffi rmed. Wh ile both integral performance art audiences and secular urban audi ences in Africa may both mobilize on the side 01' the performance as alead-in to direct action , the type of exelusion necessary ror the integral audienee is anathema to the African audience. NOl everyone may " know each olher , are involved with eaeh other, support eaeh other," but, nevertheless, few W est A l'rican audiences seem to ha ve "accidental " characteristies. Children, yo vos. men and women are addressed and responded to , whether they are k nown and whether they are active participants 01' not. My first introducti on to the significance 01' this dynamic oecurred shortly after my first son was born, when J attended a lecture by Maya Angelou, taking my infant son along with me. When he began russing, I was subjected to purposeful sta res by the audience in my vieinity , the Illajority 01' whom were white and middle-class . My attempts to placate m y son were unrewarded , and , as I began to rise to remo ve thc souree of the annoyance, Angelou interrupted her lecture to directly address the situation and the audience. " Let the child speak! " she demanded in her strong voice, and explained that, as our future . ehildren should not be instructed to be passive 01' silent. I was astonished . Her asser tion that a month-old inarticulate baby had as much right to be heard as herselr, a published and highly respected author, was amazing; but even more perplcxing was the insistence on the right of Cln infant white male to " speak" by an African American womCln who had been silenced for six years by trauma tic aphasia initiated by sexual Illolestation at age scven , Preparcd to accept what lhe mem bcrs 01' lhe a udiclll;e ware lclling me thal
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\ h ~ ac \ill)' ~tyk'~ "I ~ )l.~·lIcra ll y illlprovisal l,,, ,,t1 bl ' I,l d t·, ll a v~ rll~d: 1l1 1l·nIl H':~. pl!)lurl! allJ 1ll0VCIllenl are genl!rally 111,1 ~'III I H:d Ip lhe thinl
("m il tI. powt! r n I' lhe nalural sea le, a nd there is considera ble lal itude 1"01' Ihe rc pclil ion orrolltines and expre$sions which dclight lhe alldi \:Ill'e . In lhe ill usionisl. rcal ist theatre, much 01' th is acting \Vould . . . probahly ~cem, at worst, no more than overblown rustian und at besl, Ul1intended camp o . . . ¡But] in this theatrical ull iverse, m imesis (Ihe lheatrical event) does no t copy nature 01' reality but rather, in lhe wo rds 01' Dark o Suvin, "brings forth a speci fi c reality, a Illela na lu re. (20)
111
c: U 1.'1 \ l l( I .INst,.'ll iofl IlIa l we werc imJisre nsa blc, no t Illcrdy a:; pllSNIVC auditors bU I as active parl icipa nls. 111 ~htl rp con trast lO my son at Maya Angelou 's lecturc- a mJ to rhe chil d n.:ll ~ itlill g 011 the sand at Kok o uvito performances-is t he three-year old girl \v llo was kickeu Qut pe rform a nce artist Karen r inley's Feb ruary 20, 199 1, pcrlú rm ant.:c 01' We Keep OUt Viclims Ready at San F rancisco 's Life on the Wa te l . According to Leah Garchik, writing in The San Francisco Chronic/e, hll ll:y was arraid ofinterrupti o ns- " the child was a pt to laugh at inappropri a te 1Il0lllen ts and di sturb her eo ncentration "- a nd of ina ppro priateness IIn lIlalcrial " ",o ul d deal with ra pe and chi ld moles ta tion a nd it was not IlI tended I'o r children ." Using liberal chi ld-speak to imposc a sense 01' consensus to he r diclate, Finley, whosc well -pu bJicized experience wi th Jesse Helms and tll e N EA should have m ade her sensiti ve to subtle m odes o f ce nsorship, was q lIo led as sayin g, " Somctimes I think it 's good to have even ts just fo r adults, (1I)(l'1 yo u?," thus demon stratin g ho w an audiencc's "integrality" depends on lile sclr-selection/exclusion of the audience who must position themselves in rdalion 10 the performance/er, ra ther than on the aeco m modation of lhe III.:rfonnance/er Lo lhe audience. Ik cause orthe necessity to create integral a udiences by- overt or de facto -- ads (Jf c.\c1usion , such consciousl y a nti-textua l genres a s perfo rmance art can Ilot inlerrogate text ua lity, representation , or s ubjectivity as radica ll y as those wh osc vernacular means o f significa tio n d emand the inc1usion of all as present, acl ive parlieipa nts. Because this jnsistence resides in th e audience and not in the rorm , it will relllain difficult to "activate" by impositi o n and ex perimenta lion with new and adapted ro rms and gemes. Meanings that are "expI osi ve, ric m:heting ano fragm en ting" a re still meanings. "M Llltiple interpretations" an; still interpretations. "Fractured perspectives " are still pcrspectives. Meanings, interpretations, and subject positions are necessary ifthe object ive is 10 en gage, even ifto d eeo nstrllct. the object and th e his tory embodied in il lh ey a re, indeed , necessa ry ir there is a ny objective at all. In this regard , n:Lllgnizing lhe vernacular participa tory performative al so entails the recog Iliti llrl that it canllot be mobilized 0 1' deplo yed as an effecti ve tool of acti ve rcs i ~ la nce. But wha t is being resisted , what space is being c1 eared is exactl y wha ' lhe vernaeular part of LI S never gave any mind to anyway . Maybe, just nlaybe. lhe fact that talkin g a t the movies is getting out 01' contro l is a sigo Ihat lhe vcrnacular, friend to "oral cultures," is on the rise o nce again in o ur "post-litcrate:' " post-c1ass" society- a soci ety that is now witnessing, aeeord in!]. lo Derrida. a " m a ssive reappearance o f non linear writin g" (8 6). No, lhe wrnac ular isn'l a mode of resista nce, but rather an extremel y acti ve insisl enee 0 11 wel\. yO Ll just have to be there. in the audien ce. on -Iine, pl uggeo in , lo scc wha C" glJl ll g o n. to li sIen and decioe how and whal y O Ll are going to CI )( l ln h lll c. l\ ~ Ihe singlc ao verti sclllent l saw for a " K oko ll vilo" pe rfo rmance war lled . ",¡ lit/,iS ' /'gr,,/s (///'1: uh.'·C'l/ls ." I wblt yU II gllys cmllJ scc il.
or
IX
I W I NS SIiI'A'{A (11) i\ I
Itll~ 111'
Notes This is q uite oflen Ihe h
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l" jlH.:il'll' I' h\: ~.: l illII ~ '~'t' 1I 1 tu "lIga g~ Ih~ alldie nce to Ihu <.:" I<.: lI t that Ihe choice \.'1' lal lg\lagc du c:i not ~llc m tu pl\~~e nl Ihe barrier one would cxpect. 1 witncssed a s..:rc.:n iI1g 01' Ola B"I1ogun 's ¡Holley PoweY in O uagadougou, Burkin
References /\dedeji , J. A. ''' Alarinjo': r he Traditíonal Yorllba Travelling Theat re." Drama a/1(1 TII('Ulre ;/1 N igerill,' A Critical SOl/u'e l3ook. Ed , Yerni Ogllnbiyi. Bath: Nigeria Magazine, 198 1. 221247. Appiah, K wame Anthony. 11/ My Fa/her ',1' Hlluse: Aji-icll in Ihe Philo.\'lIphy o/ Cullure. Ncw York; Oxfo rd U P. 1992. Balogun , Fran(,:oise. Le Cine/na Illl Nigerill. Brussel s: OC IC/L'Hanna ttan , 1984. Bame. K wabena N. COII/e lo Lllugh: Aji'il'lln Tradiliolllll Th ealre in G/llln a. New York: Lilian Barber P, 1985. l3arber, Karin. " Radical Conservatism in Yoruba Popular Plays." Drama amI Thealre in Afr;clI. BI/y reulh African SIudie.\' Series 7 (1986): 5-32. 8audrillard, Jean, The ,'vIirror I~/, Producliol1. Trans. Ma rk Poster. SI. LOllis: Telos P, 1975. l3enjami n, Walter. "The Work of Art ln the Age of Mecha nical Reprod uction ." JlllIIli;I1 I/ Iions: E.I'says al1d Rejiectiol1s. Ed. Hannah A rendt. New York: Schocken , 1969, l3lall . Herbert. File Audien!:e. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1990. Bourdieu, Pierre, D;sIinction: A Social Cri/hlue of' Ihe Judgemen l 11/ TI/SIl' . Trans. Ri chard N ice. Ca mbridge: Harvard U P, 1984. Breche, Bertol!. "A Short Organum for the Theatre," Brec/¡t 0 11 Theolre. Tran s. John Willett. New York: HUI ami Wang, 1964. 179-205. Chernoff, John Miller. Ali';(:(//1 RIzYlhm Cinc! A/;-;co/l Sells;hil;Iy: Ae.wlzetics (lile! Social AClion i/l Aji-iclI/l MlIsicalld;o/1/s. Chicago: U Chicago P, 1979. Clark , Ebun. l-Iurhert Oglll1de: The ,Vlllking or,lle NigerilJ/l Theolre. Oxford: Oxford UP.1979. Derrida , Jacques. O/Gral11malology. Trans. Gayatri Chakra vorty Spivak. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Lrr, 1976. Etzkorn , K. Peter. "On the Sphere of Social Validity in African Art: Sociological Reflections on Ethnographic Data." Th e Tradiljo/lll/ Anisl ;/1 Aji-;mll Socielies. Ed. Warren L. d'Azevedo. B1oom ington: Indiana UP, 1973, 343- 378. Fax, Howard N. A1etaphor: New Proiecls hy CO/llemporary Sculp'or,I' (AcCIJ/lci, A rll1aillni, Aywck. Elving. Morris. Oppenheim ), Washington, D.e. : Hirshhorn Museulll and Sculptllre Garden. Slllithsonian Inslituti on p, 1982. (J:II'dti k, Lcah. "Personals." S al/ Frant';s('() Chronicle. 1 Mar, 1991. ;ullilll,l llIt , Ldwa rd. "Sh hhh! '1 ul king al lhe Mov ies !las (¡olt en O ll t \)1' Control."
I \V 1 N S 'i I l ' i\ lt 1\ '1' Ji P
IlliL'h, Ivall . (;/'IId,'/' . Ncw Y mK: 1',lI lllu': IIII, I'¡ X.:! Joy if'o , 'BlOdlln. nlt, )omhlf I'oll/ll
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1;-:1
1\ N() IION CII-
43
W E STE R N FEMIN I ST TH E O RY,
A SIAN INDIAN P ER FORMANCE,
AND A NOT IO N OF AGE N C Y
A vanthi Meduri
SOllI'CC: Wlill1{'1/
al/d l'eljornlCl/lce 5( 2) (1992): 90 103.
Western feminist theatre critics such as Peggy Phelan. Carol Martin , a nd others have recently become interested in the cross-cultural representational isslIes raised by Asian Indian performance. I These writers' enthusiasm for the performances 01' cultural others is refreshingly different from the Westem Orientalist fascination wi th the exotie otber exemplified in Artaud 's effusive writings on Balinese theatre. 2 These feminists refuse Artaud' s reverential exoticization 01' the other in which priority is given over to the native subject. 1nstcad , they qllestion and grapple with their own sense 01' dissatisfaction with non-Western traditional forms 01' representation . In terms 01' authorial inll:ntion, material constrllction , and mode 01' operation , the feminist gaze seellls to be functioning differently from the orientalist gaze . Yet, at an international conference organized by director Eugenio Barba in I!)g6, the Western fcminist gaze raised issues of cultural hegemony that ha ve becollle urgent issues in academe, especially since Edward Said 's book on Oril:ntalism .' Phillip Zarrilli has alerted LIS to some 01' the issues raised at the conference in his article, "Por Whom is the ' Invisible' Not Visible: Reflec tiolls 011 Representation in the Work of Eugenio Barba" ; I sha ll attelllpt to eXlCnd his critique by asking the same questions somewhat di fferently.4 A fter all , Orientalism is concerned with the act of " seeing, " with spcciflc ll1 odc:5 o f seeing which have helpcd produce tbe discollrses 01' "Differen ee" und "O therness. " T hinking a bour the issues in valved in orientalism in Ihe p,JI'l ic ular te rmin ol ogies af the Westcro ga7.c \Vi II en a ble 1I$ to grolJ nd Ihe iss lI c~ ra ised a t ISTA in the visua l 11ckl o f lheatre. and a lso ah:rl li S to Ih ~ im pllrlallcc M histo ry ano the appn1prialion of pOWl'r il11p lidl "' the very ad
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prescnt at the ISTA co nlcrence SCClllcd to n:veal all arnh iva lelll':c wi lh rcgard to c1assical lndian performa nce: a fascination with thc stylized formal tech niques o flndian dance and a distancing from lhe mythic reli gious/erotic stories that the c1assical dance drama lizes . Western feminist theorists/pracl itioners' simul tancous attraetion towards and withdrawal from- c1assicallnd ian performance seems lO reeall and repcat whal Frantz F anon and Edward SaiJ have marked as the moment of colon ial ambivalence. 5 It draws attention to the limitations invol ved in Western fem inism, which can be perceived as determined by being situa ted in im perialist bistOl'y.6 It raises the question whether Western feminist thea trical lheories can remain wlaffected by the historical effects 01' Western postmodern ism and orien talist theory, t pose these questions as a theoretical problematic both fo r Western fem inist theory and postmodern anthropology, as both discourses are concerned witb decenterillg and dismantlillg patriarchal and colonial appropriation 01' representation. If feminist thcory is concerned with female representati a n (its lack) in traditional theatcr and cinema, postmodern anthropology is engaged with deeonstrueting the ethnocentJ'Íc biases 01' traditional anthropological rep resentations . The critiq lle 01' visual and linguistic representation- whether the female other of mal e discourse or the feminized other of Western discourse - seems to be at the hcart of postmodern femillist and anthropological dis courses. While this critique has dccentered Western ethnocentricism it has abo generated a feeling 01' anxiety, a sense of crisis in Western discourse. " End 01' Representation, " " Beyond Representation," "The Ill1po ssibility Of Representation ," "Universal Abandon" are buzzwords that encapsulate and characterize the postmodern fe m in ist and antbropological moments . Western feminist theatre eritics' analysis of Asian Indiall performance reveals this doub1e an.xiety, that is, the larger predominantly Western anxiety with representation in general, ami the specifically feminist re-envisioning of fema1e represcntation. In the WesL fell1inist theatrical and cincmatic re-envisioning af traditional represelltatian was facilitated through the rewriting of Freudian psychoanalytie theories such as the male gaze .7 Yet these interventionary paradigms, useful in the historical context 01' the West. raise difficult questions whell applied in unmodified ways to cross-cultural performances. At the same time, it is in these conflictual situatians, when con texts bccomc displaced by out-of-context readings. that complex meanings of performancc as a social and historical text begin to emerge. In such situations, performers more often than not assume accountabil ity for the difTerent kinds 01' 'histories that help construct their differing identities. For it is at thcse points that su bjecls bcgin to grasp t he epistcl11ol ogical complcxities that connect and separatc flrst-wo rld su b jc<':ls frol11 third -world. amI viée ve rsa .~ In thcsc momcn b I'ruugh l wil h tcn:;;i o n. so-ca llcd lirsl amI Ihird wo rlLl par Licipants could pcrhaps negin lo huve wlml I \V() ult1 likc l o ca lcglln /.c as a c()ntinucnl ;lmlli mi led d ialol.!lIc. \i;J
( ' \1 L" I JIU'
T 4\ il1l1 sllal c I hi ~ IInil1 l 1\:1 1111; J cscribl' an incident 111,,1 \1I':~ \l rrcd al lile 19Kó !\ cO l1l tlrc lI~I!, .\I wllich t1 ircdor Eugenio Barba assembleJ lhe linest Balinese dann:/dral1la. and In d iao Ka t/wku/i amI Odissi pcrformers for a study by tI gro up Westcrn scholars. Carol Martin describes a contlictual exchange helween Sanjuktha Panigrahi, India's prem ic r classical dan cer, and Canadian lesbian dancer/director PoI Pelletier. Apparently, Pelletier stated that women a ll over the world are oppressed, amI that t he female dance styles rcpres entcd al the congress reinforced that universal op pressio n. She also seems to have said that when lhe Asian women at the congress performed fe mule roles, lhey wcre not rree in the way they used space. The fol1o wing excluw ge then occurred :
¡\
NII1 1I IN
ni
"cil i NC"
What is the measure against which fem aJe oppression is to be understood? Indian patriarch y, Universal patriarchy. or Western feminist understandings ofWestern patriarchy? Even a cursory reading orthe exchange reveals signific ant differences in the use of the term " space. " Pelletier literalizes the term, and by doing so is able to politicize it , and ground it in the materiality 01" performance space. Shc also seems to imply that using large amounts ofspace signals dominance and is therefore po si ti ve, while using less space signals subordination . This view upholds Western valucs about use al' space and ignores- as Carol M artin has pointed out- important stylistic and cultural ditTerences between Western a nd non-western eultures's concepts 01' space. 11I It migh l be useful to recall tha t lhe them atic space lhat Panigrahi is referr ing lo has Hu le reference to everyduy s pace a nd time. Odissi dance uramal izes lhe loves of gods a nd godd ess~ , and lhe intcnu;tio n¡., helwecl1 Hi nu u gods. demonl>, amI h ll ma ns. Toe gestllres and movemunt :-; \Ir Od/s.lí. evok ing Ihe
temple icollography rrolll wh ich lhe uall lle draws il s IIlspll a lioll , a n: slyliLcu on thc assumptio ll, pcrh aps, lllal god s use spacl' di rJi!n!ll ll y Ihan hUlllans. Ir lIsing more space signals rreedo ll1 , lhcn Indian me ll. womcn, anu Il indu gods and goddesses can all be seen ~ o p pressed since they all use less space than Western uancers. T he idcologies of subordination made visible in Odissi use of space are not exclusive to women, since men, women and gods are all oppre~sed by the cod ified language 01' the dance. J\ critique of an oppression that is expressed t hro ugh the use of space in a da nce can only be articulated after one addresses the mo re generalized form of oppression that lies in lh e ass umplion of oon-identity the tOrtUOllS self effacement and sublimatioll- that c1assical Indian actors a nd aclresses are forced to rehearse in the training pcriod. A Marxist cd tique can decon struct this religious transcendentalismjust as well as, and perh aps a little better than. a materialist feminist critiq ue . Both discourses might read it as the pO\verful after effects of ideological mystification, of false consciousness- which, in fact. it is. Yet what is called mystification is not so easily iden tifiable, which is why Panigrahi and Pelletier cannot comm uojcate beyond the point of saying, "No, it is different," or " No , it is the same." Also , t he d isco urses of self effaccment and sublimation in which Pan igrahi is inscribed an d wh ich she exprcsscs in the dance, extend beyond the realm of representatioll and find reinforcement and legitimation in the social , personal and pol itical strllctures al' Hindu life . Renowned Jndian psychoJogist Sudhir Kakar has pointed out that the H indu sense of identity is formulated more relationally than individualistic ally, and that the eoncepts of self-effacement and sublima tion are reiterated in the social structures orthe extended Hindu famiJy .1 1 Ka ka r tell s us that Lhe father 01' the extended family systelll is not the only patria reh as he is himscJf subservient to his grandfather, or uncle, or other elders. T hjs fa mily arrangc ment postpones the Oedipal unification as the male child Icaros to passivel y await his accession to patriarchal power, an OedipalllnificatiQn wh ich might never be in his life span. This long wait, Kak a r suggests, thwarts the develop ment of the individual ego, prevents the aggressiveness al' Western Oedipal unification and the formation of the superego . Individualism is thus not at the heart 01' H indu Indian identi ty , and neither is extreme antagonism between men and women. Indian dance expresses this decenteredness, this blurring 01' sclf/other distinctions in the "transccndcnt third "- also called p aramall1w, or God , or " it "- which is substitutcd for the bipolar duality. A Western/lndian ICminist critique must attempt to undcrstand the complexity oí' this Ill yt h ic slIostitlllion rcinforced in the discourses that articulate the meani ng 01' Odi.l.l'i dance. The world view cmbodied in the dance is expressed not only in huw spa ct! is 11111 11 iplllated and uscd, but also in the use of appropriute jcwdry UIlU 1'(Is I UI1 IC'l IlIa t l il e IIIlJ ian cla s~ ical da ncer ad opts . No dou bt, it ca n sli ll bi: nilu':JlII:d IIN 11 hIrm o!' o pprc~sio n , bU I it is a form signi fican tly diITcn.: n! !'rull l W,'~ l l' l ll p;¡lna ldla J ( ) rpn.:ss i~m h~au~c 0 1'
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Panigrahi: In the female role we also use a lot of space. What do you mean by space? ln the female roles we did , you didn 't see us using the space? Pellcticr: AII I said was that today, I saw other women performers using the space more free ly. Two al' them were playing male roles. Another was playing th e role of a female warrior. Your female character used relatively less space. Panigrahi : Yes, because every culture has its own style, dresses, ornameots, costumes and social behavior. It is our duty as an actor or aclress to refine, stylize, define anc1 put o ur socia l code of behavior into action. O ur style is such that our women in our society and their behavior and qualities in comparison to what you see in Europe is different. Pcllitier: No , it is the same. Panigrahi : No, it i.s different. 9
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Ihe plJ ilosllplJi¡;¡,t1, soc.;ia l, ami ac.;~ lh c.; l il:.s ubslitll li~lnli whid l lt ll'di OllC, auslhl!licizc an u ca mo ulla gc its alh:ctive IlIc
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Western I"em in isl a nalysis Ica.'i m ade e:üc lIsivc !lse uf llll: I' rcudla n p~y<.:l lu sex ual paradigms activated hy lhe cye, such as voycu rislI l, scopo phil iu, amI fetishism. Yel. in discourscs such as Indiall d assical da nce ill which llinuu narratives and icon ogra phy preuominalc ami define lhe ll1eaning amI 1'01'111 01" lhe dance, the act o fseeing musl be significantl y dilTcren l. W hen lhe IlilllJu- go to the temple to behold God's prcsence thcy go ror the auspicious DarsJ¡al1 of t he God. T his generally ll1eans tha! they see the godo and experience the deity's presence in the immediacy of all their senses. They toueh the ido!. smell it, hear ils siJent em a nations and taste the honey and milk in which the deity is bathed a nd pu rifled. "Seeing" implies the integrated operation of al! the senses and no t the excl usivity o r rationalizatio n of sight that is pecu li ar to Oedipal scopophilia. Darsf7an al so means that it is not enough for the devotee to behold the god in the tem ple but that the God has lo return the gaze. T he seeing is a two-way comm unÍcat ion in which seer and seen have to participate mutually fOI" the experience of Rasa or aesthelicjoy. This mutuality in seeing is not peculiar to the religious experience, bul is restated in the aesthetie texts , !he poetics, and commentaries of the Nat)'ashastra. The Indian/ l lindu spec lato r is trained to see in this wa y and is encouragcd in this process by lhe [ndian dance gestllres and myt hic stories that do not accede to the fuI! mcaning of consciolls language , This way of seeing is further encouraged by the Hindu religious and phi losophit:al discourses wh ich devalue the línear, seq uentiallogic of the a nalytic mind and instcad , emphasize the experiencc of visions, images, and sounds. Phelan 's critique does not give us any information about these cultural differences and in her own words, "wrenches the dance from its own context." 21 But it is stil! useful as it offers a eontext-free feminist analysis of Indian performances and alerts lndian performers, scholars and Indian exporters of culture to the various issues involved in the receptioll of these performances in an international context. A lso, if we deny the importance of Phelan ' s criLique on the basis that it is not contexl-sensilive. \Ve essential ize 1ndian performance . We also suggest that there is only onc correct way of reading performances. and that is as the nal ive/p ro duccr secs his/her performance. Bul the naLlw's point of vicw. both the bli nd aeHl lh e cmpowering spot of traditional eth no graphy , has recently eome ull ucr scrious criticismo Also, we should not fOl"gét that Gautam's performa nce , o nly a sma ll part ofthe exotic extravaganza COll ceptuaJizcd and real izeu by 1lló.lgi\.!Í ;cll/di rcclor Eugenio Barba. \Vas assemb kd for the exclusive visual an u nil ll.:a l dd ight 01' an international aud icn~' c Al! one can ask , gi vcn lhe con te,t 1)(" IJcis performance. is that an aJt erna ll W contexl-sensiti ve Indiall l:ri IH)lIC h, ' pl CSClIlcd alongside this other crit iquc. t\ double critiqut: or lhe kin d I <1111 S1I1'l\l.'slí II ¡.!. wou ld be ablc lo bcstow hi sto ri e: " agency 0 11 both lhe clIl lllI: " lll hl'/ :llld lh é Wésl\.:rn critic, and hélr 1" rormula le a historicall y IlIC :I I I III~ 11I 1 c1c.c1 I1l' IIC h\:twecl1 Ih e Iwo cu lt ures. Phclan's \,.'(lntext- In:c UIIIl(Ul' pav', II dll li lahh: ul kll lillll lo lhe inoulul m ina¡;y nI" i\Si:1I 1 purl"ol l1l:Cl h l' "ilct:c ll.'d IW IWIl\ 1 :lI ld lll'tWl'l ll I II ~ eonsc inus \w/
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Using this analysis, Phdan condudes that Asian representations do not penet.rate the identity of lhe actor or actress. 21 They are surface representa lio ns a ml lheir appeal exists p recisely as surface, she says, Phelan 's critique might perhaps be true of the other Asian pe.rformances presented a t lSTA. but Ka¡/¡aka/i ami Odissi performers are sometimes deepl y affected by the artifices that they portray and re-presenl. Asian Indian per fonnance is an experience of content unrolding in the techniques of formal artifice, it is a "not-this/not-that" (neli-neli) phenomenon, which is why it can be theorized only as a double negative. Phelan's critique is insightful, but it pays too much attention to the formal aspects of the dance, and too little to the effects 01' content, both 01' which fced into the dialectical meaning 01' Indian classical dance. Phelan 's rel uctance to address the dance at the level 01' content embodies Western feminist theorists's ambivalent response to l ndian c1assical dance referred to at the begi nning of this papel'. Having problematized some ofthe issues raised by the ISTA Co nfe.rence, 1 will now attempt to formulate two alternative critiques about Indian dassical dance . First, I will engage in a Lacanian psycho-semiotic analysis ofSanjut ka Panigrahi 's 1988 interview with Richa rd Schech ncr and PhiIJip ZarriIIi. 24 1 wiII attempt to show how surface representations of the dance might some times pencO'a te the identities ofthe perfonners. Then I will contrast this critique with anothcr, and show how these representations can be read ami theorized, like Phclan does, as expressions of formal artifice. It is worth reiterating that Asian Indian performance is a double-edged phenomenon that cannot ba discussed adequately in a binary fashion , as either form or content. In her discussion with Schechner and Zarrilli, Panigrahi recounts a o embarassing experience that occurred while she was performing with Guruj,i, her teacher ami mentor. On this singular occassion , she experienced a flash of eupharia ar Lal1l1w)'a (ecstasy) which splattered her consciousness and swept her a\Yay. Riding this tide of self forgetfulness , Panigrahi seems to have mOl1lentarily forgotten an important dictum of actor training, namel y, that even performance at its best is not a simulation of lived reality. [n her performance, Panigrahi tells us that she coIIapsed into tears .25 Carol Martin has describcd the breathtaking po\Ver ofthis celebra ted Indian dancer and has commented on hcr sheer professjo nal mastery 01' tec hniquc?' What rorces conspired a nd compell ed Pa n igrah i lO lose co nlrlJl nn lhi s par ticul a r occasion'! Pa nigrah i I c l1~ us lhat she had performeu Ihis uance many ti mes he forc wi thnul Ciuruji , all d wasa lwnys in c<,'nl r~11 tht (;lIIl1 li'S rrcsCIlC\:
have a nytIJing tu do with he r loss of conlrol'! ¡\ tex tual allalysis ol'the tn tc rvicw revea ls Panigrah i's childhooJ IcndclIL:y 1¡.Ir iJca lil.cd cxallillion wh ich expresses itself in lhe " excess 01' tca rs." U uruji's tcachc r we are to ld , also exhibited th is prodivity for tears. W hat have tears and crying to do with representation'. Panigrahi's reference to tears recalls the F reudian hysteric. 27 By using Western psychoanalytic modcls 01' hysteria to write about her, 1, too, am wrcnching the dance frOI1l its context: but 1 do so deliberately and in order to call attention to her marginality and alienation from sym bolic discourse . The unrepressed excess l1lanirested in the sympto m of her tears ex presses. perhaps, the nature of her precarious subjectivity, perched immine ntl y on the overlap ping boundaries of fantas y and reality, the primary and the secondary pro ccsses of signification. 2~ In the primary structures of tbe cul lural unconscious rcfcrred to by Lacan. Pa nigrahi might be perceived as identifying with the is ual images of the K rishna myth , dancing Gods, snakcs, and feel. She th us experiences an ecstasy which is cultural , sexual and lllysLical all at once. !TI the reality of proscenium conditions she could be seen as representing her cul tural and personal fantasy in the stylized and fetishized gestures orthe R adh a K rishna dance, which she is trained superbly to do. Yet. on this partic ular occasi on, her performative mask peded off, and exposed her finely concealed imaginary identification with the Radha/ Krishna love story, and her elll f'l tional \'ulnerability to that mythical world . I would also like lo suggest that Gu ruji symbolized lhe reality co nccpt th al might have interrupted her transferencc with the Imaginary. Radha ;md Krishna are imaginary myths that can only be sustained in fantasy, a nd when transposed in terms 01' reality result in dis-ease. The master's presence, pcr haps, symbolized tbe phallic prohibition and prevented her transference . Losing control- that is, her weeping- -lllust be read as the failure 01'jouissance. as an incomplete transference, which explains her lapse into incoherencc an d her inability to recall the patterns of the dance thereafter. When Panigrahi dances alone, she is invulnerable to the desire of the spcctator to whom she represents an absence. HerjollissGn re is somewhere cisc, within herself. and outside representation. In order to see her, the spectators have to recagnize their own seeing 01' her ami recognize thcir own impossible desire to be seen by her. As satisfaction of desire is thwarted in this kind of performance, the spectator is constrained to beco me a performer, to turn inwards, and experi cnce Sanju klha's dancing body as a presenee in absence. Traditional aesthetic theory holds that Rasa or aesthetic joy, is experienced in this displaced subjectivity. which, in ract, is heightencd subjectivity. The spectator and per former thu s pcrforlll to their own cu ltural lInconscious. They meet in a third pl acc whil.:h rci nforces neillu;: r ::;cJf 1101' olhcr but Ihe hcightened awarcncss of consciousncss watehing ilsel!'.") 1tere we a re co nfrollted with tite hi st orical li mita tinns involvcJ in using "ulllllodi llcú" Wtstern ll:lIl illisl IIlmlds l'n , IlrccH'i7.in!! tndia n classical perfonn ;lI1ec . 1 ¡un Ihi nkin l! pal'l lcu lnrly tl l IlIl' prn hk llls invol vcd in transposin g
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Wuslc/II pl: lllk l 1 rit iq lll'S ti!' IlIall: a pproprialinn n I ",:111:111: dcs ll u onlo In dian d a ssll.::d u allee . lo 111I.:se \.:1 itiques theo ri zc women as a ncga li ve a bsencc in Wcslcrn lú rms 01" rcrrcscnt a lion. In Ind ian perro rman ce, lhis a bsence enI hndics pn;:scllL:c allLl plellitudc, ami this ís becallSC nega tion- ne ti nel i (not t his, not tha t) is a philosophic and aesthetic concept high ly valued in the clllturallil"c 01' elite I lindw¡. 13c:¡iucs, pa nigrahi scems no t to be performing gender but sexuality, which is why the transfe rence strikes a t the heart ofher identity when it breaks. Abo rcm ember lha t Panigrah i's fa ntasy for Krishna began in a childhood memory, when she saw K rishna to uching the feet of his lover R ad ha .J ' By substituting Pa nigrahi 's feet, if we foll ow t he F reud ian logic of eondensa tion , K rish na oesired her. Fantasy ¡¡ nd retisbizalion of K rishna evo kcd in the fu nda mental m isrecognitio ll 01' Radh a-as-self help construct Panigrahi's gendered subject ivity in the a rchetypal fantasy 01' the Rauha/Krishna love story. This dis placed genuered identification is futher di sta nced in the actual performance before an audience. In the acute self-awareness and heightened self consci ousness 01' performance, Panigrahi 's genJered subjectivity is returned to the Imaginal)' moment 01' her chilc1hooc1 in which she experienceu her scxual desire for Krishna . That Lndian dassica l p erform a nce is not about gender is further reinforced by Gmuji 's teacher \Vho, \Ve are told. desirec1 Krishna and longed for union with him. Guruji's teacher's love for K rishna is not exdusively homoerotic in the way that Sue-ElIen Case and Jill Dolan theorize the experience .)~ It is worth pointing out that both Gurllji's teacher and Panigrahi embody a submissive uesire, a desire \Vhich longs to overcome self-incompleteness and alienation throllgh an imagined completeness \Vith K rishna. I am sllggesting that " seeing" or " scopophilia," \Vhen localized in the primary structures 01' the unconscious, must be qualitative1y uiffcrent (rom the Oedipal scopophilia, more unuifferentiated in terms of sexual identity. This might explain why both Inuian men anu women gender themselves in their active desire of Krishna. The "other" oflndian performance-·· often referred to as God or Parwnalmo is endowed at ti mes with male , and at other times with female, characteristics. It is theorized more onen than not in a space 01' llndifferentiated androgyny, which Lacan has referred to as the space of the Real. " Which read ing are we going to choose as Inc1ian/Wcstern feminists? Bo th readings pose theoretical problems for a feminist re-envisionin g oftraditional representation. This is the ehallenge that Indian dassical performance poses rol' both Imlian feminism and Anglo American feminist theory skeptical 01' mystifled notions of androgyny and bisexuality. Having orrcrcd a psycho-scm iotic reading of lndian dassical dance, I will now pro posc an alternalive reading: a na lyzing Indi an dassical performa nce as a p lay on gender. cxploring what Phcl an has iJc nlilicd as ;ulilice. In ao y clussica l dU llce perfonn HlIl.:e such as Blw "(J( h W/{/ (I '{//1/ DI ()tli.\'.I'i, I he lema le p¡:rfo nncr pll.lys m lllt ipk I\llcs and dis plays a VCI''l1l 1ili l v 1111I1 ¡.. (lO I I)PIWsil iollal.
In uny g ivcn chorcog. raphic scqu cncc, shc IlIa y plll )' a 111 a 11 , a dog, a biru, or él godo She does lrus with o ut reco ll rsc lo rcali sm, witholll rortl:it ing her con structed IClll in inity, which she he rself par()uics in her exaggcrated d ispl ay of seduction. By elllphasizing her gender stylistical1y, she produces it quite like an artifice. Ind ia n classical performance makes ge ndc r itself into a role, a qllality ofsocial beha vior not Lo be confllsed with bi ol ogy. In her prouuctio n 01' gender we can see how lndian/Hindu social ideologies a re inseribed upon her body and how female fantasy or subjectivity recedes from the booy. The [ndia n d ass ical performer is a " perhapser" a self-styleJ magician playing at everything without inhabiting any one space exc1l1sively .34 Starting with the unusual hypothesis that the lndia n fe male performer is a " perhapser" challenges the overdetermined theor y 01' the ma1c gaze and suggests that , within thefissures of patriarchal and colonial appropriations, exists an episteme 01' play. Such a hypothesis goes beyond the simple polarity 01' positive as opposeu to negative images of women (e.g. Indian woman as exhibiting male desire), and attempls to engage wi th the eomp1ex iss ues of alterity and positionality referred to by Julia Kristeva. J5 Such a reading reca lls Lacan's statement that desire is always desire 01' the other. It afflnns desire as an absolute condition which performance then embodies. lnd ian c1assica l dance can be seen to interrogate des,ire which manifests in perform ance as in language, if only as a magical flash that incinerates itself lIpon its every attempt at utterance or selfrepresentation. This simultaneous birth and death of representation suggests that identity is itself unstable, shifting, and always a masquerade. I want to suggest that the Indian dancer's stylized l11udros or gestures, in which are embedded the episteme 01' pl ay mentioned above, prob1ematize the mythical narrativ.e. They suggest that even if lh e body can play with representation, it cannot wholly displace the symbolic language 01' either the dance 01' the myth. I do not mean to essentalize Asian performance by suggesting that the female voice has spoken beca use the actors' gestures are evocative 01' more than one meaning, or the fantasy is summoned out 01' a bisexuality. I resist this urge by pointing to the incompleteness ofthese appropriations which rema in circum seribed by the symbolic discourse. I am ol1 ly suggesting that lhe symbolic is an unstable, shifting struc\ure. Female performers appropriate its shifting boundaries, its shuffling instability, and unsettle the arder by merely q ues tioning it. Yet women have assumed speaking position in this moment of self-appropriated questioning ami have afflrmed their subjectivity. I suggcst, therefore , t ha t the fem ale perrormer's palpable presence as actor must be accounted for in any cross-cultural theoriza tion of Asian performance. A Lacanian psycho-sem iotic critiquc such as I ha ve attemptcd rcsists thc simple reading of the exotici7eu IC.ma lc hooy as a scxual izt!d CI)mmIKlity.JiI It instead p roblelllatízcs gendc r represen ta l inl1 rrllm withi n Ihc I ro pes 01' pe rrnrm <:ulee. It is th us mo re lIsc rlll thall a mu lc l iull.,t crili 4 ue wll ieh si lllpl y bclu hors Wllill is hy IWW an undispu led 1': 11.'1, Ih¡ll W O I1'IL'11 II ll1v~'I ...a ll y leprcscn l ;111
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is mOré inlcn.:slillg t u gCIH!lillI: ~'lII p()wl~ring nar ra l ives. I~) 11)\Ih.. <1 1 tite gaps willtin pat rian:hal rcpre¡;entaliün I"rOI11 wi lhin which Illale powcr is qucslio ncd, and to va lorizc lhose moments with oul ro manlic i/,ing lhcm . II is worth rcmcmbering that the perfo rmance spacc was the are na in wh ich wo men as shamans, myst ics. singers, and hystcrics rehearsed cm ancipation, experienced "jouissance" , as l rigaray has pointed o ut in her celebration 01' lhe mystical space. This place, which Lacan has identificd as the space 01' the absolute O tber, lhe face of G od. remains lInassimi lable within the symbolic.:\7 A~ Alice Jardine has eloqllently argued , Woman fil1ed th at place and was oppressed by virlue of that substitution, which resulted in her deification as Nalure. M use , Unconscious. 3~ Yct. this mystical space outside symbolic discourse remains one emancipatory place. however circull1scribed for women. This is a theo riza t ion worth bearing in mind , despite its litopian rhetoric, as thc space offers ma ny oppressed women momcntary access lo public space, to a limi ted yct important articulation of differencc. OpplCSSl'J dlss \\I I1Ct ,plc . 1I
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Ihid. ¡hid. 1 am deeply indebted to Peggy Phelan who has illlmduced me to reminist theory and gender studies in rh e Pe rformance Studies D epart11lcnL Ne w Y ork Univer sity. Her work has been a source of great inspirat ion to me , My ow n disserta tion re-exarni nes the c irculation of desire between performe r a nd spectator, deHling with the issues involved in t he Indian nat iona list a ppropriation of ¡he "classical " dance form later ealled Bllara/ha N atyam . T hc title oC my di ssertat ion is "BIJara/ha Nal yarrt, the Feminized Other 01' India n Natio na lism a nd Western Colonialism." 21 Phc\éln , 109.
22 ¡hid 23 ¡bid
24 Richard Schech ncr and Philip Zarrill i, "Co llaborating on O d issi: A n Interview With Sanjuktha Panigrahi , Kelucharan M a hapatra a nd Raghunalh Panigrahi," IDR , vol. 32 , no. I (Spring 1988): 128- 139. See Peggy Phclan, " F eminist Theory. Poststruduralism , a nd Pe rformance," TDR , 25 ¡bid. , 137 . vol. 3 no, 2 (Spring (988): 107- 28: E rika Munk, '''rhe Rites of Women:' Pe/jórm 26 Marlin , 32·-41, ing IIrls Jou/'Ilal, vol. 29, no. 2 (Surnmer 1986): 35-43; See also Carol Martin. 27 See Sjgrn und Freud\ Tllree Lssays 0/1 Jhe J'llC'ory Of Sexuali/y. T r. James Stratch cy 'Teminist Analysis Across C ultures: Performi ng Gendcr in India." Women lIm! (New Y ork: Norton and Com pa ny, 19(3): Dora IIn AnolY.l'es oI (/ (~/se o/ Hvs feria, (NeIV York: Macmillan Publishing Compan y, 19(3). Pe/fúrll/lInce: A Joun/al o/ Feminis/ Theory , vol. 3, no. 2 (1987/88): 32- 41. 28 Sigmund Freud , Be)'o/111 Tlle PleasurC' PrincipIe, Tr. J a mes Stratchey, (New York: 2 Antonin Artaud , "On the Bali nese Theater." in Th e Th e({/re (/l1d i/s DO/lble , Trans. by Mary Carolyn R ichards. Ne w York: Grove Wcidenfeld, © 1958, 68- 73. Norton and Compa ny, 19(1). 3 Edward Said , Orientalism , (New York: R andom House, 1979). 29 lt mighl be appropiate to point out that PhclcLll, writing about a performance by 4 PhilLip Zarrilli, " For Whom is the ' Invisible' not Visible: Representations in the A ngelika Festa, suggests tha! Fcsta does not return the spectator's gale . My Work of Eugenio Barba : ' TDR , vol. 32, no. I (Spring 1988: 95 - 107). amtlysis of the classic,ll performance comes from my own practice of the dance, from what my teachers used lO tell' me just before a concert recital. 1 would ask 5 F ra ntz Fanan, The Wrelchetl uI/he Harth. New York: G rove Weidenfeld, 1991. thern , when th ey CHme into the dressing room lo inforrn me that Lhey were all set 6 For a fuller development of lhis argument see Chandra Mollanty, "Under \Vest for the concerl, if tne concert was \Vell attended ami my teacher would say, "Whal ern Eyes: Feminist Scholarship ami Colonial Discourses," Feminisl Revielv 30 (Autumn 1988): 61 88. do you carc'! You dance nol 10 thc speclator but to yourse lf." M y analysis is also 7 See Ano Ka plan's "Is the Gaze Male," in WOl11en ami Film: Bo//¡ Sides oI/he indebted to lhose many reludanl limes I was forced lO attend Hindu temple Camera, (London: Methuen , 1983): 23 - 36; See also blLlra MlIlvey, " Visual Pleasure festivi ·ties as an adolescent. Thcre 1 saw pcoplc straining to behold the gaze of Ihe and Narrative Cinema," Saeen 16 (Aulumll 1975): 6 18. god and goddess , and it \Vas as irthcy wantcd to be see n by this fr ozen -faced God , 8 1 am él\Vare that there are inherent difficlllties in the vcry formation 01' the terms wll o never actually returns the gazc. 'lr51- and third-IVorld as it casI subjeets in Opposilional and homogeni zcd categor 30 Kaplan , 23- 36; Mu lvey, 6- 18, ies . But 1 do so beca use Ihe confúence itself was conceived a long those lines, and 31 Sigmund Freud , Fiv(' Lec/ure,l' 0/1 Psydwlogy, Tr. James Slratchey, (New York: Norton and Company, 1977). Freud talks about infantilc scxuality, and highli ghts participants began to think inlerrns ofus ami them. Similarly, when I speak about [ndian classical dance, 1 am rcferring to Bharalha Nalva/11 ami Odissi which evoke its importa nce to sexual development. Hindu epistemologies. EI~eIVhere 1 engage a critique of the terl11s "Hindu" "clas 32 See Sue-ElIen Case's chapter " T raditional history: A Feminist Deconstruction ," in Feminisrn and Tltea/er, (Ne w York: Methucn 1988), 16- 27: AIso see Jill Dolan's sical" ami "Indian," but bccause I cannot offú a fuller developmenl of thesc ideas in Ihis paper, I use thel1l inlürchangab ly. Feminis/ Cri/ic a,~ S'pec /a/or. 1) Martin , p. 36. 33 See Kaja Si lverm an, J17 e S ubjec/ o/5;entio/ics, (New York , Oxfo rd: Oxford Uni 10 Ihit!. versi ty Press, 1983): p. 152. 34 S ue- ElIen C a se uses this lerlll in her a lwl ysis orlhe dra g performance of Ben mussa, 1I See Sudhir K akar's "Trainings: The Inner W orld in Culture a nd H isto ry." in T/¡e 1111/1''- Wo"¡d: A PsvdlOfllw !Ylic S lIIdy IJ/ Childhood (¡/1(1 Socie/y {/1 India (Dclhi , but I use il as il is relc rrcd lo in 1he N a /yasllll.l'/ra (Ihe scicnce 01' drama). As a Ncw Yo rk: Oxforcl U ni versity Prcss, 19 78): 140- 154 . blankellc rrn il indud(!u all l11;¡1111(:I' n I' rcg in l1;¡1 dance sty les in the tradition of the
Notes
192
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I 111 I IIIU
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15 Sce Jacqu c lin¡: Rose, " Ju lia Kristeva T a ke T wo,'" in Sexualil)' ¡lIlhe Field o/ Visio/l. (LDI1U on: T hel foru Press, 1986): 141 - 165. 1(, Sc,: G a yle R ub ir/s " T he Traffk in W omen: Notes on the Political Econorn y 01' Sex," In TflI l'(/rd {//1 Anlh r opology (JI Wornen ed. , Rayna R . R eiter, (N ew Y(, rk: Mon th ly Review P ress, 1975), 157-2 10. 1'7 See Jaequeline R ose, "fn troduction 11 " in Fen'linin e S ex ualily: ] acques Lacall al/(I Ih e ecole h eudienne. ed. Juliet M itchell and Jacqueline R ose, (N ew Y ork, London: Pantheo n Books, 1982): p. 50. 3H Alicc J ardine's cha.pter hA Wo man-in-UfTect ," in Gynesi.l': Con!I~f{Um li()I1S of' Women (lm/ Modemitl', ( Ithaca and LOlldon: CL' rnel1 Press , 1985): pp. 31 - 50.
44
INTERCULTU R A LISM ,
POS T MO DE RN IS M , PLURA LISM
Dary! Chin So u rcc: Perf{J/'/i/ing Arl.\ Journalll (~) I Il( 1) (1')X')j: 16~ 175.
A lthough " Interculturalism " is a concept that is gaini ng a grea t dea l 01' visi bi lily as we-11 as crcdibility, lhis situation is aligned to a n um bcr 01' iss lles, some 01' which are political and sociological , and others ph ilosophicul anJ aC~l hclk . T a k in g intercultural ism as a spccifie philosophical and acsth cLÍc is!iue , il ':011 tin\lcs thc agenda se! by po ::;tmodcrnism , p luralism, and m arginalisl'll. Bu! what is p ostmodernism? Wh a t are plllralism and margina lism '? " POsl l1l ílllcrn" has beco me one 01' those terms, like "existential" for an earlier gencralion, w hic h eve ryone tosses arollnd likc a beanbag, whi\c aiming at di ffe rent ta rgl:ts . For m o st of the commentators who insis t on using the term, its m can ing is no1 defin ed , but denote d by catalogues and lists. 1'11 take the wide~l p ossible con te xl for postmodernism on a ph ilo sophical level: as described b y Jean-Fran<;ois Lyotard in Tlle Poslmodérn Condiliol1: /1 Reporl Ol? KI101vledge, it is a crisis in categorization, resulting in cquivalcnce. The cffect 01' this equivalencc is the lack 01' hegemony in pe rs pccl ivc. This break in unity has been the occasion for a crisis in cultural practice. S pli n tcring in so ma ny separate pieces, any aesthctic enterprise is frau ght wi t h s usp icion, h a un ted by the possibility of m isin terp retation. In order to gra p plc wilh cven the m ost m o men tary meaning, art ha s now been occupied by the p as tichc, the parody, the appro priation. on the assumption that nostalgic meaning is better tban no meaning at a1l . B ut the result of this nosl algi a is Ihe dcpletion 01' the centricity of artistic ende a vo r. Irony, repro du~l i()n , a lld s inllllalion have become central to eon tempora ry a rt, with alllhe Jisl :.III\.:'\! II!:II irll r lies. The attcm p t tu Joli nc PO:-;lfl llll iL'r n Ís Ill is linh:t1 to él c on sidera t ion of m odernismo its lim il" ,llI d Jd icil'l wil')j. nll' p rll h l ~11I 0 1' ddini ng !llode rnis!ll is compounded by Ihe nlul tiplil'i I V 1I1 " 11 11 1( "-' 1 IlISIl\S," th~1 1 ¡.s, Illodern ism in liLerature, m oc.lemi sm in lhl' visual M I ', r ll\ , dL' (IIi ~ 1I 1 in ;lrl, ltihx llI rc, a m.! :)0
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Wha l jli J cfim.:d as lltl: 1I1ouc rnist cpod! in cad! arL "()llll is 1I0t ncces~arily ;llllgrllcn l with Ill\xkl nisll1 in ano ther art formo Tb us, in architecture, Ihe moJc rnist m OVC1l1cnt was assod ,lled wíth t he co nsideration 01' m aterial ity, pllrity of line , and rest rained monumentality, as exem plified in the work 01' Alvar Aalto, Mies van der Rohe, and Le Corbusier. R obert Venturi, one 01' the lcading theorists of postmodernism in architecture. proclaimed: " An::hi tects can no longer afford to be intimidated by the p UTi tanicall y m oral lan guagc 01' orthodox Modern architecture. l like elements which are hybrid rath er than ' purc,' comprom ising rather than ' cJean.' dis torted rather than 'stra ightforwaTCI : ambiguo us rather than 'articulated,' perverse as well as impersonal, bo ring as well as 'interesting,' conventional ratller than designed. accomm odating ra ther than excJ udi ng, redundant rather than simple. vestigal as well as innova ting, i.nco.nsistent and equivocal rather than direct and cJear." Venturi's theoretical procJama tion of a postm odern ambition in architecture was defined th ro ugh "double-functionin g." a recognition of plur aJ ism in the liv ing a rrangements which must be ackno wledged in arcb.i tectural pla nning. When pluralism is invoked , the assum p tion is that alternative perspectives are being permitted into the discourse, displacing the dominant hegemony. In the most basic sense, pluralism is an acknowledgement of alternatives so that additional perspectives have the possibility ofbeing understood. Marginalism is an accreditation of these additional perspectives by defining a dominant, and ceding territory to the sidelines. During the las! two decades, as an ex ample, a feminist perspective has been established in the arts, with theoretical and artistic practices in theatre, in the visual arts, in film and video. The acknowledgement of that feminist perspective has occu rred in ways which have preserved sharp demarcations, resulting in a continuance ofmarginalism for the feminist perspective. The consideration 01' pluralism and marginalism is crucial to any attem p t at comprehending contemporary aesthetics. More than twenty years ago, Susan Sontag attempted to define the new agenda in her essay "One C ulture and the New Sensibility." She proposed a relativism in aestheticjudgment. so that appreci atioD could embrace the beauty of a machine , the solution to a mathematical p roblem, a painting by Jasper .Iohns, a film by Jean-Luc Godard, and the music ofthe Beatles. D uring that period , critical debates in all arenas, rrom high art to popular culture, were engaged in the q uestions 01' modern ism, pluralism. and poslmodernism. Critical debate was joined to artistic praxis, as artists extended lhe boundaries of their work . Annette Michelson had noted the ways in which artistic enterprise was al igned lo philosop hical and sociopolitical ideology in her essay "F il m a nd lhe Radica l Aspiral ion:' She had su ggcslcd wa ys in which former radical is lll c0ulJ be scc n as part 01' a general radica.! as piratio n, and vicwcu as an answcr to lile social a nJ ccono ll1ic hicrarchics 01' la lc carita li sm . As a n inl\l¡ln\,;c I)f' t\¡I." nl ura lism M Iha l pl.lriou , f'o p Art a nú Mil1il ll:t! 1\1 1 víel\: \.:ocx islCnt
IIIDVCIIWlltS. I\lIho llgh sty li s t i c~L1l y u pposcd, h,>th l1lovcl11cnls we rc idcnttl"icd by M ichacl I:riet! as antithctieal lO tlle 1l1oderni st cth os, in th at bo t\¡ were t heatrically moti va ted beca use 01' an acceptance 01' audience perspective. as opposed to an Idealist pictorialism . Such attempts to define modernism without a n account of pluralistic perspectives was one of the reasons fo r the collapse of critica! auth o ri ty. Criticism could not be prescriptive, but the alternative has been an abdication 01' critical autonomy. Before attempting to address intercultmalism, 1 woul d like to condude with some remarks on postrnodem ism, pluralism, and marginalism. Fo r most comme ntators on postmodernism, its unique contribution is the recognition 01' di rferenee. However, this recognition of difference is then eq uated. as ean be discerned in writers as varied as Jean Ba udrilla rd , Peter Burger, and Anclreas H uyssen , with com plete indifference. To put this in the most ex treme, stringent terms: the E urocentric ego dedares that, if recognition of the val idity of "otherness" must be accorded, thcn there is total eq ll ivalence, an absolute breakdown 01' distinction. The Eurocentric ego is making a decJara tion, which is: ir it ca n no longer c1a im dominance an d superiority, if equity must be awarded , if the Eurocentric ego can no longer presume on self i.mpo rtance, then nothing is important. Hidden in the agenda of postm odernism is, ! thin k, a rebuke. an ins ult, a dcvaluation. Instead 01' recognizing the status of " the other" as an equal, there is the undermining of "the other" by a dedared indifference to distinc tion _ while attempting to maintain the same balance 01' power. In faet , the very designation 01' "the other" is one such maneuver. This can be seen, for example, in Roland Barthes's n/e EI11{Jire o! Sign.\, in which he discusses Japanese culture in terms of its sheer "otherness," thereby ren dering the working of a complex social structure as quaint, in the manner that Edward Said has described as "Orientalism." A t no point in Barthes's charming and elegant discussion is there any cognizance 01' the faet that, for a Japanese person living in Japan , the culture is not "other. " The culture is, in fact, the dominant culture, and the inserutability, the impassivity , and the unfathom ability 01' the culture are not eonstructs designed to tease the Western imag ination . From a Japanese perspective, thcy are not inscrutable, irnpassive, or unfathomable at al1.
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Ih\.:n: has not becn the same inlerest in the culture from lha t region , !\Itho ugh lh\.: l\.:ch noh)gical advances in the Japanese culture have acceleraled , there has h C1.!1l liule interest in theoretical writing from Japan. T he theoretical writin g lhat is being considered still derives from European coun trics, in particular, France, W est Germany , a nd Great Britain . When Japanese culture has been considered. the emphasis is on issues of style, thu$ the prominence of fashi on as the exemplar of Japanese cul t ure. Rarely ha s the intellectua l d iscourse in Japa nese culture beco given a hea rin g in interna lional cultural circles. T he fact t hat lhe most prominen t theorists remain Eu ropean, at a time when the sociological advances which they address have occu rred in co untries sucll a s rhe Un ited States and Ja pan , is ind icative of a mi nd set so centcred on E uropean dominance that there is no way to redress the balance. Ln any society. there are distinctions that are inherent in the social struc ture, distinctions between the sacrcd and the profane, between what is acknow ledged and what is unaek.nowledged , between lile good and the bad. Tbe understanding of t he symbo l structure o f tba t society, and aesthetics are, by definition , within the province of lhe symbol strllcture, crucial to an understanding of the p roducts (artistic, industrial , craft) 01' tha t society. Ts understanding of that symbol structure to be indllcti ve 0 1' ded uctive? In Eric Wolfs terms, are the pcople of " underdevelopment " (an im perialist term) to write their own histories , or a re their histories to be written by the cuJture of imperialism? !\ nd the objeets of those cultures: are they to retain their mean ing, or will their mea nin g be subsumed by imperialist domjnation? The terms of relativism are supposed to be those on which anthropology lays claim to its inclusion as a science, but the q uestioning of that relativi sm has been non-negotiable. Trinh T. M inh-ha is a cultural figure at the very heart 01' the debate on postmodernism, pluralism and marginalism, and inlereulturalism . She is a Vietnamese filmmaker, writer, and composer \Vho is a lso an anthropologisl living and \Vorking in the United States, Her t\Vo films , R eassemhlage (1983) and Naked Spaces: Lil'ing is Round (1986) , are ethnographic studies of Afríean eommunities . But her films are not simply ethnographie films ; rath er, they question the very terms of ethnography and ¡be filmmaking process, interrogating lhe presumption behind the anthro pological world vie\Y of objectivity. The difficulties posed by her \York , its self-relkxive questioning of perspective and point of view, are meant to be provocali ve and disconcerting, but so disconcerting has her work been , so threatening to the Eurocentric hierarehical views implicitly propounded by ant hro pology, lhat it has been consisten tI y marginalized. The lack 01' cer tain !y wbich her work engenders, the adherence to an ethic of continual vigi lance, the sense of explora tion which her aesthetic addresses: these have made her work problematic. Though Ihe anthropologieal film communi ty a nd Ihe Asian-American film commulliLy c1aim they are deali ng wi t h an alterna live lo the domi na nt cinematic cultu re oflhe commercial in Ju slry. the
(SlIpposcd ) pl llralisllI 01' Ill\.:ir silllaliun tlll:1 tio ns. However. Wilson 's d ireclo rial work. founJcd on thc visit'lUlI y 1I 1If11"" (; of a post-hippie mysticism, is gro ll ndl.!d in assumplions wh lch I.;oulclllll "l' ¡¡ I ¡',CI! only in a late capi tal isl COl ltL'xl, U~S lllllptillll S which a.c. al hasl' , d(>O" I II¡ d . W i lsoll'~ prl)dUl: liOIlS IIf IIAM 1 Fl MA( IIINI' amI Ql lAR l'l' l' 1ltl\I' 1,\,(:\1
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II UI Ikcd hy ;ln ill aLL\!1111111l 11> I l u: p n:á;ioll ol'la ngutlj,!":',~" , lIa l tlll' idcolngk al Ull d SI H.:i' l. po lil il'ul pOllll s In the d iu logtlc are PC IU!IVed in an incanta tory túshi on. a lld the spcc iti ci ty 01' Ihe dialog ue lost. Pe te r L3 rook 's rcce nt prouuc LÍ ons , The Mahahharala and Tlle ('llar )' Orc'lwrd, di ~play lhe intercullu ral approach to nationalist texts in ways both ove rt ami insidious. Tll e M allabharuta has been the subject or m uch d e bate; sIIrtiCC it to say that Brook 's approach does not account for the dis tincti ve Ilt:ss orthe text, its non-lincarity , and its multiplicity o fmeanings . Rather, he cx l racts fro m the outline or The Mahabharata the rudiments ofthe na rra tive, lo which he then im poses an ethnocentric meanin g . In Ihe case of The Cherry Orclwrd. Brook displaces the mean ing of the work by denyi ng its specificity. The e'lllivalence 01' m earri ng, which finds formal co rrelat ives in tbe interna lional cas t, th e lack or dramatk emphases leveling tbe momentum 01' th e play , and the bare staging, denies th e slr ucture of the play, stretching it o ut until the sense 01' drama tic im petus deteriorates. Ln this produetion , The Ch erry Orchard Is displaced, set in an empty space which does not reveal new I1lcanings; rather, the production e'luivocates, rendering a sense of unva rying continuity a1l but destroying narrative logic. The strategies of Breuer, Wilson, and Brook are n ot unique; to differcn t degrees, they can be seen in the work of Peter Se1lars, D es M acA nuff, A n ne Bogart, Elizabeth LeCompte, John Jes urun , Robert W ood ruff, and T he S'luat TheatTe . F o r exam p le. in A nne Bogart 's p rod ucti on of D an/On's Dea/h, the sense of th e play was lost in a staging which wa s s u pposed to compensate through a sensual overftowing. There are many problems with this approach . For one, the attempt to update classical material often is an excuse to force disparate elements into conjunction without careful consideration , depleti ng lhe possible meanings . For another, the imprecision in the deployment o l' sensual means, such as the shouting, chanting, or reeitatio n of dramatic dia logue, crea tes an effect of confusion. [f a play has a specifie text, with a rhyth m structure and a drama tic developmcnt clearly de fined , the disruptions of that sLructure and development must procecd to establish a viable alternative, rather than just a cacophonous negaLion . To reconceive of a n aesthetic in the most stringent telTns ofexistent categor izations is one agenda much admired within postmodern circ1es. The total re creation of a thing so that the specificity of that thing is revealed has become a n cnterprise both critical and capitulatory. (n the February 1989 issue of Vallily Fair, James Wolcott reviews t he cable te1evision station Nickelodeoll in these lcrms: "Ry repackaging the sitcoms as camp ar tiraets, by recontexl ual izin g lhem, ir I may use a lit-crit mout hful, Nick at Ni le ha s rinsed old pel1n ies ne w. It \ the approach or postmodernists from D avid LcUcnn a n to David Byrne, 1)1I11ing iron ic 'l uolation ma rks a rOllnd stu pid so th
Ma gn llsoll lo lile a ppropria lcd a dvert isill!,: ¡¡lid I:l lllIlI ll:lCial al lil'acls \)1' Mcyc r Va isma n and Jclf KO' H1 S. W hcll T he W\I{\Slt!llirollp positiolls un A mos ' n ' A nd y l"Outinc in blacHacc, arc they displ ay ing an u ndc rl y ing racism , p rob lematil:ing that racism o or are the y rn aking a n ironic com ment o n ¡t, p utting racism in qllotes? Not ice, thoug h, that the (;ontext is carerlllly co n troll ed : The Woostc r Gro llp is granted visi b ility a nd critical de bate. Two examples 01' performa nce artisls who cmbody sensibilities and atti tudes so totall y that they become both these sensibilitics a nd a ttitudes, and a comme nt 011 them , are W inston Tong and John Kelly. In botlr cases, their embodiment 01' marginalization is so extreme that their perfo rmances bring up disturbing 'luestions. In the case 01' Kell y: he re presents a eertain tradition of dandyism within the ga y sensibili ty. Hi s intense self-dramatization , the melodramatic extremes of his recapitulation 01' " the d iva, " hi s operatic self in d ulgence re Reet an unnerving autonom y which plaees the audience at a remove, forced into reftexivity. This is also the case wit h W inston T ong, but T Ollg joins this lo another aspect 01' m arginalization : he tu rns himselJ into cll1 " exotic," an object of d electa lion in the most extreme for mulation 01' "Orie ntalism. " D uring the period ofhis most disciplined work , Tong beca me the most intense personification 01' the "exotic" (in Bound Feet, A R imbaud, N ljinsky), exemplified in " other" c ul tures (Chinese, Freneh, R ussian) . By e m pbasizin g their "otberness, " Kelly and Tong have played into the s tereotypes set fo rt h by lh e dominant id eology in a way which explodes those clichés. T heir extra vagant self-defi nition bccomes a way of defusing the definiüo ns of the cultural around them. The impu lse to marginalize alternative perspectives is another problem that has surfaced in contemporary culture. The hidden agenda of condescen sion is always a possibility . During a gallery talk in Novcmber 1988, at the Wll itney Museum , Al Wong was asked aboLlt the Asian intluences on his installation piece, Each Time 1 See You, 1 Feel 11 Could Be The Lasl Time (1988) . His reply was th a t he felt he was an American artist, and the inftuenees were mostl y Western. In formal terms, the piece wa s in volved in the discourse abou! sp aee aIld imagery which characterizes Ihe most interesting installation work bei ng d one at this time. In short, W ong's aims are congruent with the aims or other media artists doing installation \York, such as Dara Birnbaum, Dan Gra ba m , Paul Sharits, Ba rry Gcrson , and .Iudith Barry. Though the subject matter 01' the vario us sections invo lved Asian and Asian-American material , sillce th a t ma terial was autobiographical. lhe piece itselC formally and struc turally, wa s " American ." W ong's assertion orhi s artistic cnterprise within the American contcxt was absolutely correet. A lthough the rc wcrc critical 'lues tio ns im pl icit in lhe installation. 'luestions concern ing a n lim o n ies 01' "rorlll " a nd "co n te nt" wh Íl; h could he consiclercu in telw s 0 1', ~ :ly. ·'!'.a st " and "West ," lhe d esi re to exolici /x Ih ~ instnll aliol1 wa s une whid1 sl lo uld he rcsisteu . T h ere has been ti s imi la r n.;~rol1sc lll the pl:rlün nallet: \v\)1 k 111 I'¡!lg ( ·hong. Altho ugh his wo rk J ()es Uc¡ ¡\ wi th t\.'XI ílnd 0 .1 1¡¡¡ti ve, jls ; IL: !llhl~lk b ¡ I ~'kU ¡ l )l l nU
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IcllI ll:S tu Ihe lypc u f illlagislll: 11I u vcmcnl wo rk whie h is 1I0W hcing lcrm cJ dance lhca ln:.· ' C ho llg's work, wi t h iLs multi-media colllponcnlS amI jls rn ovcmc nt-orien tcd irnagcry , shares a common aesthetic with the work 01' Joan .lonas, Kenn cth Ki ng, and , of course, Meredith Monk (with wb om C hong ha s collabo ra ted on several works). Though , in the most philosophical in tcrpre laLions of his work , a case might be made w hercin the themati e conteros of " I'orei gnness" a nd " aliens" are tied to minori ty consciousness, the appellali oll 01' '' Asia n" is m isguided. W hatever inftections Chong gives his work , its fo rmal anJ stylistic vocabulary derives from a spccific tradilio n in American da nce. The need to categorize a nd to compartmental ize is a way to marginalize a nd to ign ore im portant cultural agendas. The whol e issue of m isi nterpre ta tion mU SI be considered . specifically in intercultural ter ms. Na.m J une Pa ik once noted that La Mon te You ng and Terry Riley (and. la ter, Philip Glass and Ste ve R cich) wanted to make music that wo uld share the structure and form of Easte rn m usie. but tha t they wound up making music that was mo re Western than ever. SimjJarly, KazLlo O hn o, noted as one of the founders of Butoh, the modern dance movemcnt in J apan, began his career attempti ng to present what he believed was W estern-style dance , but it wasn ' t modern dance as anyone hall seen it in the United States or E uro pe. W hat he p re sented was more like the hierarchic poses 01' Kabuki as envisioned by the Norma Desmond character in Sunset Boulevard. So, when artists attempt lo cross c ult ural boundaries, there are times when misinterpretation may p rove to be stimulating. provocative, seminal. The recent controversy surround ing The Satanic Verses by Sa lman R ushdie is indicative of cross-cultural misunderstanding. R usbdie' s eareer as a wri ter was established within Great Britain. where comic irreverence is a tradition. Rushdie's use of lsJamic tradition as a souree of comedy is no more or less blasphemous than the Monty Python troupe's use of Christian tradition in T/¡e Li/e o/ Brian. Rushdie must have felt that , as an Indian-born author living in Englan d, he cOllld use his cultural and religious heritage as he saw fit. but the English traditions of satire did not coincide with the fundamentalist dogmas 01' the lslamic religion . Thc Japanese pe rCormance group, Dumb Type, has bcen creating works which utilize the pop debris and rnechanized environmcnt of the contemp orary urban center. The A merican-influenced iconography of commercial popular culture is everywherc in the landscapes which D umb Type em ploys as the scenography 01' their work . The pleasure of Dumb T ype's work comes from the precision and the fastidiousness \Vith which the overde termined e1ec tronic cnvironment is depicted . At t h.is po int, the pop culture iconogra p hy , o nce derived frolll American mass med ia. has become unjversa l: Tokyo is no more 01' less ridden wi lh neon ~ i gn s. bill boa rds. a no televisi o n t han, sa y, Los ¡\ngelc~, Ncw York. Paris, Lonúon, or Rome . Dumh Typc's a¡;¡;cplancc 01 Ihis cnviwnmcnl i ~ cxplnr;,llory and opcn -mimJcd whicl1 rCnitWIlS;¡ 10101' Ih " {)rprc:;~ i vt:nc!js nI' IIw l\Iedia \wc rlüau wh idl is rrc::cnll'd
Thc work 01' J-1o u Ilsi ao-l lsicn rcvca ls the pop corrupli n n in T a iwan today . Ilis most recent movic, Daug/uer o( Ihe Ni/e depi¡;t<; worki ng-c1ass yo ung people drifting in a displaced islanJ la ndscape of Kentucky Fried 'hicken franch ises. rock and roll , wal kma ns, Japanese comic books, and the ever- present neon signs. V¡I/age Voice film critic J, Hoberman has Jescribed Ho u I-I siao- J-Isicn's style, with its long-shot takes, as emblema tic of loss, Lbe abyss separating Taiwan rrom China, the dista nce of whi¡;h is (eulturally , politicall y, psychologicall y) unbridgeable. The ways in which foreign inftu ences (C hina . Japan, the United States) bave o vert a ken and beco me Ibe cu lture of T ai wan are accep ted as natural develo pmen ls in t he dissociated socicty. T hc dete rmined contemplativeness of Hou Hsiao-l lsien ' s style is a way of ncutrali zing value judgments, moralizing, and imposed views, in order lO examine thc cultural confusions and the societal schisllls withou t p rejudice. Pedro A lmodó var crosses cultural boundaries as easily as he transgresses tradi tional morality. MalOdor , one of his most audacious works, takes the rit ual 01' bu!1 fI g hti ng as a metaphor for Spanisb society, and extends th at rneLa p ho r to the most extreme conclusion. The moral reversals in MalCldor ,lre o b v i o u~ ly a kin to the moral reversals fou.nd in the writings of Jean G enet, but scen in terms of the opera huifó melodramatics of IIollywood m o vies (K ing Vidor's Due/ in Ih e Sun is the movie cited). Almodovar views 0On tem parary S panish culture as an arnalgam 01' confticting inftuences which melt togct hc r under the heat of the Spanish terrain. But Almodovar does no t mo ralizc about this morass 01' culture, he merely uses it as the basis ror en le rla in ment. In his movies, W/WI Have 1 Done lo Deserve ThL\'!, LaH' () ,. Desire, ami WOl11en Ol! [he Verge o( a N er llo us Breakdow/1, he includes a d izzying variety of dispara te c1cments, 1'rom martial arts to Jean C oclc¡¡ u's La Voix l/l/maine to answering machines to N icholas Ray 's lohnny GlliWr to rashio n photograph y, and music 01' aU kinds (and fro m all over).
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* * * Intereu lturali sm hinges on the questions of autonol1ly and em po wcrrn clIL Tü deploy elements from the symbol systel1l of another culture is él very uclica tc enterprise. In its crudest terms, the questiol1 is: when d oes that Llsagc ¡¡el as cultural imperia lisl1l? Forcing e'lements frolll disparate cultures lo ge \. hc r dll C~ oot seem to be a solution lhat Illakes Illuch scnsc. aesthetically. ethicall y, or philosophicaUy . What does that provc: that the knowledge of other cultures ex ists? That information about other cultures now is readily availablc'l Taking frol1l other cultures can also be a rorm of connoisseurship, a new form of world iness . A t this point in world history, the interconnections 01' the geo poli tical strucl UTe are so intrica te a nd so intertwined that there is no way o ut 01' lile J ilcm ma 01' ucpcnucnce. Anu thal depe nde nce, econorrUcally, industri aJly. ag ricult lll .l lly, mC,lIls Ihat di plomacy m USl be vigi lant.
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I he ill 1cH':III1I1 r: tI agenda nlLl l'ol he (lne o r the utmost dip/(')macy. Tlll: p rob ul JU lllillall t uUIt LLn:!. of suppression and rejection , 01' " lI11derdcvelop mont," rcma in. Intcrculturalism can so easily accom modate an agenda of ;ultural imperialism. Th is is what happens when Lee Breuer tosses disparate clc ll1c nts togelher pell -mell as an indicator 01' disintegration: this is wha l happens when Robert W ilson's staging overwhelms Ileiner Müller's text; this is wh at happe ns when Peter Brook d istorts the narrali ve slruclure of In di a n ll1ythology and o f C hekh ov ian dramaturgy. The sense ofimposition is o mni present in these enterpri ses. Ilowever, I do not want to i1l1p ugn these attempts, wh ich seem more the rcsull of c1umsiness, a certa in though tlessness, and lack of cureful considera tion. Tha t is why I mentioned diplomacy in intcrc ultura l affairs. In tercul turalism has a purpose in allowing for au opening of reSollrces in the arts. The problem arises when interculturalism is cited as an excuse ro r work wh ich c10ses options, curtails perspectives, and cuts off exploration in favor of imposing meaning, rather than al10wing meaning to arise from the material. The idea of the exploratory aspects of art is important, beca use. in recent times, the content of art has been pushed to extremes. The avant-garde sensib ility of risk has caused aft to extend into areas orh uma n endeavor which had prcviously been suppressed. Intercultura lism is one 01' the ways of bringing previously suppressed materi al into the artistic arena, by admitting into a general discourse other cultures, cultures which had previously been ignored 01" suppressed or unknown. But the general discourse (which we must define in terms of lhe dominant culture) must not deform other cultures by making them speak in the language of the dominant culture. African masks , for example, have a beauty that comes from the boldness of stylization, which, in tum, derives from the magical connotations of the masks' conception and execution. Cubism, of course, inlluenced by African art, has helped us to appreciate the specific beauty of African art, but if we only appreciate i\frican art as an inHuence on Cubism, there's something wrong there . (1 once heard an Italian art critic say that he loved Cubism but he detested the barbarisl1l 01' African art. But he assumed that i\frican art must be tolerated because ofits influence on Cubismo llove European critics and theorists: scratch the surface and you get the most wonderful, imperialistic, racist a rrogance. He aeted as if his statement wasn 't a sign 01' his barbarism .) T here is, obviously. much more which migh t be mentioned in relation to interculturalism: that Marxist categorizations of cultural enterprise whieh have dominated discourse over the past century have been usurped, witho1l1 having been replaced; that information retention systems have made avail able more in fOnllation than can be llnderstood by any individual: tha! sod o-economic dependencies are now inexl.rica bly bound whiJe geopo litical s!ruet llrcs r\!main dcm arcated, ma in ta ining a rigid definition 01' boundary ulIJ boruer. T hcsc and other ideas are wha t we talk about when we talk a bout bllS
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