What really drew my attention this past week concerning the
subject of time in the theatrical realm were the durationals mentioned in Kalb’s
excerpt from Great Lengths. In many instances, these were pieces of
improvisational, game-like experiments, favored towards the “story of the process”,
which played out for many hours. They
departed from the conventional dramatic structure (beginning, middle, and end) primarily
concerned with plot and character, and delved into what Etchells described as “…fluid
dramas of attempt and struggle” that “…abandoned the rhetorical power of the
stage, refusing the shelter afforded by theatre, preferring simply to be there”(Kalb
130). Durationals not only played with theatrical
conventions of time and pace, but also with the space and audience relationship
in the works themselves. The simplistic,
intimate ambiguous spaces somehow influenced the audience from merely being “spectators”
into becoming “witnesses”, as Ashley mentioned in her prompt. Durationals
become voyeuristic engagements that involved both the performer “pretending to
be themselves” and the “witness”. These pieces were not originally intended to
keep the attention of the audience during the whole process of the work, but
surprisingly riveted the interest of Kalb and other spectators who were afraid
to leave and not be able to return again.
It seems as though the durationals complemented a naturalistic “slice of
life”, but in real time, to the idea of time and pace; life itself has its slow
and rushed moments or its boring and dramatic events. Another day and another
evening is experienced as the sun sets—whereby the natural light changes the
atmosphere of the piece. Durationals illustrate the struggle of human
connection and life’s redundancies. They
emphasize the reality effect since we are all “witnesses” to these aspects in
everyday life.
Real people in real time, really
pretending. The pretence acknowledged at all points. Or the pretence flickering
in and out of acknowledgement . . . Costumes. Props. Sets. Not because one
“believes” in these things. But because their processes of transformation and
pretence are what the culture is made of (130).
I’m not totally sure what the next step is concerning
performance in the “right here, right now” of theatre. I tend to think theatre will become a mixture
of traditional and avante garde (more so than now), a sort of post-modern
cocktail made to order depending on the “flavored” experience. I seem to continually be drawn back to Hudes’
Water by the Spoonful (which we
studied in Fletcher’s Play Analysis class). I wonder what would happen if we
incorporated a mixture of durational, futuristic, and virtual “twitter”
moments. Hudes’ theatricality of the
piece would be changed; playing with the form will, I’m sure, change the
playwright’s concept by departing away from the “free jazz” musicality of the
play. But what would happen if, after we
introduced all the characters in the play, we continue only with twitter plays
during the support group scenes? Would
the audience effectively imagine what Hudes intended? What if we began the process early on the
performance day with separate, character durationals interspersed with
Futuristic episodes of certain succinct moments in the script? Would the story and relationships, Hudes so beautifully
created, still be understood? The story
of the play may really become a completely different story of the new
experience…or perhaps bring a new dimension to her work. Either way, I’d be game to find out. Below is an interesting trailer from a German
production of Water by the Spoonful. It reminded me of some of the durationals
described in Kalb’s excerpt.
No comments:
Post a Comment