Reinventing Narrative Codes

“By mingling the recording arts and the performing arts, Ex Machina constantly aims to reinvent its narrative codes” – Patrick Caux & Bernard Gilbert, Ex Machina: Creating for the Stage, p. 48.

I love the use of phrase “narrative codes” here. What an elegant way to describe theatrical storytelling. Live performance is a system of embodied symbols that communicate to an audience. Brilliant.

Just as brilliant is Ex Machina’s integration of the recording and performing arts to “reinvent [theatre’s] narrative codes.”

Before the advent of recording, it was necessary for everything the artists wanted to occur during the performance to take place within the performance space.

If the performance called for the sound of a dog barking, the artists needed to bring a dog and make it bark on cue, or learn to do a very good bark themselves. There was no way to harness the sound of the dog’s barking – The only options were getting the real dog to create the sound in the theatre during the performance, or mimicking the sound in some way (by using the human voice/body and/or objects).

If the performance called for a specific real-world person to appear, there were similarly only two options: bring the actual person into the theatre during the performance, or mimic the person in some way (perhaps by acting, or with the help of costumes and makeup).

Thomas Edison’s invention of the first functional device for sound recording and playback in the late 19th century changed the game. The phonograph cylinder could capture sound from the air and then reproduce it during playback. All of a sudden, sound was portable.

Though I am unsure of when sound recordings were first put to use in the theatre, after this invention (theoretically speaking), artists were no longer limited to creating real sounds or mimicked sounds in the theatre. The invention of sound recording allowed artists to start to get past the spacial and temporal specificity of the theatre, and to begin to import sound from other locations and times. Real sounds could be imported, rather than being created in the space – Suddenly, the dog’s presence was no longer needed. And suddenly, mimicry was no longer up to par.

 

Theatrical Authenticity

In Liveness, Auslander discusses authenticity at length within the frame of rock ideology. Speaking with Jenn last week, we started thinking about what authenticity is in the theatre.

Thinking about authenticity in the realm of visual art is somewhat straightforward. At the precise moment when I perceive it, is the painting the real, original work of art as created by the painter? While it may not look the same as when it was first painted – paintings undergo changes at the hands of UV radiation, light, temperature changes, humidity, vandalism, etc. – it is fundamentally the same cultural object.

Benjamin identifies a painting’s authenticity as “the essence of all that is transmissible from its beginning, ranging from its substantive duration to its testimony to the history which it has experienced” (Section II – “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”). The fact that the painting has endured x years, and the physical evidence of its existence throughout these years (cracked paint, decay, sun bleaching, mold, or whatever it may be) are important contributors to its authenticity. What other factors populate the continuum between these two main contributors is unclear – Perhaps imperceptible physical changes, such as changes in chemical composition might lie on this continuum. Or perhaps events that took place near the painting that left no physical evidence (an argument, a repositioning of the frame) might also lie here.

As I understand him, for Benjamin the authenticity of a painting gives it authority, which creates the work’s aura.

In Auslander’s discussion of rock authenticity, things work a little differently. Authenticity is still fundamentally this idea of being ‘the real deal,’ but mapping this idea onto music plays out differently as we cross mediums.

According to Auslander, authentic rock music is created by musicians who work their way up from the bottom, playing in dingey clubs and ‘paying their dues’ in this way. The music itself is created to challenge or protest against the majority opinion. And of course, the musicians display significant proficiency in the live performance of their music. Negotiating rock music in the recording arts and rock music in live performance, Auslander argues that live performance serves to authenticate recorded music to rock fans – Seeing the artists play the music live proves to us that they can actually play it, and most likely played it in the recording. If they can exhibit consistent musical proficiency in live performance, why would they not have played in the recording? (Auslander describes this very situation happening with two separate girl groups, one on the road touring and one recording in studio under the other’s name – But I suspect this is an exceptional occurrence, especially with the increasing union of celebrity iconography and the music business.)

Here, being ‘the real deal’ (authentic to rock ideology) in live performance earns artists the right to call themselves true rockers, and to call their recorded music true rock music (authority). However, the aura of rock music is not only centered around how the work feels – It also incorporates the identity (authentic rock identity) of the artist who created or is creating the music.

But what about the theatre? How can a performance be authentic? Is not the whole premise of theatre that we are presenting an illusion to our audience – something that is not authentic – something that is not reality?

Jenn asked me if in the theatre we have to ‘pay our dues’ like in rock ideology – If we have to get the right training to be the real deal. We both agreed it’s not really the case. There are untrained actors who pop out of nowhere and aren’t regarded as inauthentic. To say that a conservatory training is necessary to render theatre authentic would inauthenticate all theatre that happens at Queen’s – We’re not at all a conservatory, and I would definitely not say I have never had an authentic theatre experience here.

Perhaps what authenticates theatre are the real-world implications of the act of performance? To borrow Jenn’s terminology of nested worlds, these would be the World A implications of the work.

Is the actor really sprinting across the stage, causing his heart to pound? Did he really drink the cyanide? Did he really die?

Obviously this is not the way the theatre operates – The actor cannot really die during the performance, because then he will only be able to do it once. What about the audience tomorrow night? But he really did run across the stage, and his heart really was pounding…

This reveals an interesting point – While yes, we are ultimately trying to create an illusion for our audience, the performance is not completely false. When the actor approaches another, she is really doing so. When she picks up a box, she is really doing so. When she hits another actor, sometimes she is really doing so. Since the World A actor body is implicated in the performance of the fiction, the World A actor body is undeniably affected. However, when the actor appears to kill the other actor, we know that she cannot possibly be doing so. All the same, we understand it to be part of the fiction.

Theatre necessarily is part reality and part fiction.

For theatre to be authentic, the fictional elements of the performance need to stay within the guidelines of our “willing suspension of disbelief” (a phrase popularly used within Drama, coined by Samuel Coleridge in Biographia LiterariaI, 1817).

I suggest that in the creation of the performance world, theatre artists shape the audience’s suspension of its disbelief. Depending on the parameters of the performance world, the audience (perhaps unconsciously) develops boundaries for what it will accept and what it will not accept as authentic during performance.

During a performance of a play that is set in a highly realistic setting, such as Soulpepper’s production of Kim’s Convenience, the audience needs only a low level of suspension of disbelief. For example, it comes to expect that all the props are real. The price gun actually puts stickers on cans. The cans of energy drink really do have liquid in them. The candy bars are really candy bars. The presence of real things on stage is so widespread in this production that if the audience were to suddenly see something not real – if Janet’s camera bag was actually a cardboard box tied around her with shoelace – it may see that aspect of the performance as inauthentic.

However, during a performance of a play produced in a highly stylized and unrealistic manner, such as Volcano Theatre’s production of A Beautiful View, the audience needs to employ a high level of suspension of disbelief. The set is bare, and props are few. The production uses a grey carpet, a radio, a small tent, some camping chairs, an artificial fig tree, some pillows, a teddy bear, and a funny hat. Right from the beginning, the audience is confronted with strange, cryptic movement in the actor bodies. All that is used to signify being at a rock concert are some coloured lights. The artists make no attempt to physically recreate a photorealistic rock concert setting, and the fig tree is evidently fake. However, I would not say that the production came across as inauthentic. The performance communicated its story and even changes in location well – And it certainly exhibited an aura – The feeling of the spectator while viewing a work of art. Though I was watching two people moving around an empty space, I did not feel like I was simply watching two people moving around an empty space. Somehow I was bearing witness to a work of art, and I could feel it.

It seems to me that the authenticity of theatre depends on the context in which the performance takes place. It is this context that directs the audience’s suspension of disbelief, defining what the audience will accept as authentic – And if the audience accepts the work as authentic, the work commands authority as art, and gains aura. While there is certainly something to be said for a skilled performance of a difficult act, I don’t think that authenticity in the theatre is necessarily about doing things for real. It’s about walking the line of suspended disbelief in the given performance context, and creating for the audience the true experience of watching something take place, despite the fact that they may know it is indeed not happening at all.

 

Image: Volcano Theatre’s production of A Beautiful View

Presentation Today: Investigating Digital (Re)Mediation in the Performing Arts

Today I will be presenting a paper, “Investigating Digital (Re)Mediation in the Performing Arts” at Inquiry @ Queen’s, an undergraduate research conference held in Stauffer Library. The presentation will take place in Seminar Room 121 on the first floor, in the Technology session from 11:00 AM – 12:30 PM. All are welcome! Read my abstract below:

Investigating Digital Re(Mediation) in the Performing Arts

As digital technology progresses, it increasingly mediates human interaction. Simple discussion has shifted from occurring only in person to being mediated by telephone, texting, video calling, Twitter, Facebook and a myriad of other technologies and services. Likewise, theatre has been undergoing a similar shift from an art form that only occurs ‘in person’ to one in which technology often mediates presence. In his book Liveness, Philip Auslander traces the roots of digital mediation back to the advent of television and the resulting cycle of reinterpretation, or remediation as it is termed by Bolter and Grusin, of different art mediums within one another. Innovative Canadian artists Robert Lepage and Kim Collier are currently engaging in the remediation of traditional art mediums on the stage by taking a distinctly cinematic approach to theatre. This study intends to evaluate the remediation of these mediums both in the theatre and in live performances such as sporting events. It will then consider current trends in integrating interactive ‘new’ media into live and pre-recorded events, and how these ‘new’ media may already be manifesting themselves elsewhere via remediation. This discussion will give special consideration to immersive theatre, in which audiences are free to navigate theatrical space autonomously and observe as they wish. Key questions to be considered include: What are the tools of mediation, and what are their effects? How might digital (re)mediation be reinventing the way we tell and receive stories in the theatre? In what ways can the theatre further reinterpret ‘new’ interactive media?

Defining Intermediality: What is ‘media’?

var theatre = x;
var media = y;
if (theatre + media = intermedial theatre)
{
???;
}

What is intermedial theatre? Is it simply the sum of theatre and ‘media’? If so, what are the academic, artistic, creative, economic, or other implications of this definition?

Peter M. Boenisch’s article “coMEDIA electrONica: Performing Intermediality in Contemporary Theatre” presents valuable thoughts on how this particular definition may be problematic.

Boenisch describes the equation theatre + media = intermedial theatre as a “banal formula” that “[perpetuates] the idea of medial specificity” (34). For him, the theatre has not recently become intermedial in the information age. Instead, he argues that “theatre in fact has been a genuine intermedial form of art from the very start” (35).

How theatre has been intermedial from the start is not fully described in the article. However, Boenisch writes in the abstract that “theatre’s genuine ‘mediality’ already implies its ‘intermediality'” (34). Perhaps this has something to do with his claim that theatre has always been intermedial?

Mediality: The state of being a medium?

The author’s discussion led me to reconsider my understanding of the word media. With the advent of mass communication, the term media has come to be used synonymously with the term mass media (as a short form). In the context of everyday life in 2014, the term media signifies television, streaming video, Twitter, Facebook, mobile applications, and communications technology in general. Though it also signifies newspaper, radio and print, these methods of mass communication come to mind less readily than Internet- or video-driven mass media, perhaps because they now show reduced potential for mass communication. Radio and newspaper can facilitate local mass communication, whereas the Internet expands the communication range more or less globally. All differences aside, these methods of mass communication are consistently summed up in the term media.

I find it productive to consider a simpler definition of media.

Media: plural form of medium.

At its simplest, media is to medium as computers is to computer. Within the context of communications, a medium is a method of communication defined by specific characteristics.

Boenisch branches off of this definition of media when using the terms medial and mediality. In both cases, each term relates back to the state of being a medium.

“theatre’s genuine ‘mediality’ already implies its ‘intermediality'” (34)

Since theatre possesses mediality – meaning that it is a medium – interaction with other mediums of communication is unpreventable, because all methods of communication are ultimately the same thing: They are all communication, according to the author. Boenisch rejects medial specificity, the idea that essential defining characteristics of each medium of communication exist (For example, if a work does not possess the essential defining characteristics of film, it cannot be classified as film).

Instead, Boenisch may place different mediums along a spectrum, allowing for mixes and mid-way mediums. Thus, theatre (and every other medium) is intermedial by nature, as every point on the spectrum is placed in relation to all others. Since theatre is interrelated to all other mediums, it must be intermedial.

I realize that a spectrum may not be a completely accurate model for the author’s visualization of media. Although a Venn diagram came to mind as a possible model, the existence of portions of circles that do not overlap with any other circle in the diagram would be counter-productive to illustrating the author’s idea that there are no essential defining characteristics of any medium.

If I understand his argument correctly, I can accept Boenisch’s idea that theatre is intermedial by nature. However, how this inherent intermediality is manifested, and why it is manifested specific ways, remain the topics of interest (and huge ones at that). Though theatre is intermedial by nature, I will continue to use the term ‘intermedial’ in my explorations to refer to what Boenisch would call ‘multimedial’ works in the theatre – those employing a mix of different mediums and technologies – simply because that is how many artists are currently attempting to express theatre’s intermediality. It is essential to consider these explicitly intermedial works, as they are certainly the minority in Canadian theatre at this point in time.

Why are these artists engaging in this work? What is the artistic impetus for the use of high technology? How is the interrelatedness of our mediums of communication affecting the theatre, and the countless ways we engage with one another?

Fingers crossed that I can tackle some of these questions in the coming weeks.

Works Cited

Boenisch, Peter M. “coMEDIA electrONica: Performing Intermediality in Contemporary Theatre.” Theatre Research International 28.1 (2003): 34-45. PDF file.

Image: Electric Company Theatre’s No Exit, © Electric Company Theatre.

Ex Machina: Technological & Artistic Innovation

Robert Lepage’s work with Ex Machina provides support for a general hunch that I have: There is a bidirectional relationship between technological and artistic innovation. Robert Lepage and his team at Ex Machina are consistently exploring and putting into practice new methods of theatrical communication as the technology to make them possible becomes available, and are creating new technologies to serve new methods of communication as well. Availability of new technologies can prompt artists to explore in new ways, but new artistic methods in the theatre can also make the creation of new technologies necessary.

Miles Davis (Wellesley Robertson III) injecting himself with heroine. Photo by Nicola-Frank Vachon.

By recommendation of Dr. Jenn Stephenson (who is generously supervising this project), I took a trip to Toronto in December to see Ex Machina’s re-imagining of its 1991 production Needles and Opium. I sat in the Bluma Appel Theatre, entranced once again by Robert Lepage’s innovative, unexpected, and often dumbfounding use of high-technology to weave an acutely engaging theatre experience for his audience. Striking self-injection imagery coupled with the music of Miles Davis and a rotating performance surface somehow created an ethereal and oddly soothing experience.

This is the second production I have seen by Lepage’s company, the first being The Blue Dragon at the National Arts Centre in 2009. Both productions made use of projection mapping technology to integrate digital artifacts and images into the performance environment. However, a shift in Lepage’s use of projection even in the four years between these productions is apparent.

Blank canvases are transformed into an astounding number of copies of Van Gogh’s self-portrait, using projection mapping technology. Photo from Caux & Gilbert’s book Ex Machina: Creating for the Stage.

In The Blue Dragon, Lepage’s use of projection primarily took the form of static images. A particularly memorable sequence depicted Xia Long, a talented young Chinese artist, painting copies of Van Gogh’s famous self-portrait in the Dagen district, a neighbourhood known to be home to many copyists of classic art. As Xia Long worked, blank canvases of various sizes were transformed into detailed copies of the portrait in a few moments, communicating a great passage of time and the tragedy of her abandonment of original artwork. The transformation was truly magical – Canvases seemingly placed haphazardly around the stage underwent this metamorphosis by way of precise projection that integrated so perfectly with physical elements of the scenic design that they appeared to be real, physical paintings. Moving images took the form of larger-than-life calligraphy and a Chinese military propaganda video, but were otherwise used rather sparingly.

Miles Davis (Wellesley Robertson III) crossing the street in New York, during the 2013 production of Needles and Opium. Photo by Nicola-Frank Vachon.

In the 2013 production of Needles and Opium, Lepage’s use of projection was considerably different. Use of video projection was exceedingly prevalent throughout the performance. Miles Davis was depicted walking against a backdrop of a New York City street, and narrowly dodged an oncoming car represented in the video. The present-day protagonist Robert narrated a film in a recording studio, as the film was projected onto the wall of the performance surface. Like The Blue Dragon, Needles and Opium featured film-like opening credits, but they were notably more complex visually. Rather than consisting of white text focused on a dark screen, the full performance surface was filled with colourful, moving textures across multiple angled surfaces. Integration of static images into the scenic design was more fully realized as well.

Projections define physical characteristics of the performance surface in Needles and Opium (2013). Photo by Nicola-Frank Vachon.

Rather than saving this effect for a key moment (e.g. the Van Goghs), projected images actually defined the performance surface. Doors were outlined, walls were painted, and various other defining features of the different environments in which the play takes place were created with projected images that appeared to be truly physical characteristics of the space. In addition, these images now had the capability to be dynamic – To move and rotate with the motion of the performance surface. This new capability was incredibly powerful in reinforcing the illusion that these images were actually physical characteristics of the performance surface. When the surface moved, the images moved as if they were a part of it.

As Patrick Caux and Bernard Gilbert write in their book Ex Machina: Creating for the Stage (also known as From Page to Stage, due to erroneous printing), Ex Machina’s approach to creation and innovation turns the current North American model of theatre production on its head.

Most theatre companies in North America take a hierarchical approach to the creation of their works: It is the director’s goal to realize his or her vision on the stage, and it is the goal of everyone else working on the production to work toward that vision from various locations in the hierarchy. Everyone has a job and everyone has a specific time to do it. The playwright writes the script, then the director converses with the designers, the director rehearses the cast, the set is built and the technological elements of the production are put in place, and then the cast moves into the space for a few days of final rehearsals. In this approach, everyone sticks to his or her compartment, executing the specific job they have been given.

However, Ex Machina takes a radically different approach to creation. From the very beginning of the process, everyone is involved in the creation of the work. As the director, Lepage does not start out with a specific vision to mount onstage, but rather believe it is his duty to enable his team members to engage with the project to their fullest and to organize the stream of innovation they produce. Lepage gathers together actors, designers, technicians, dramaturges, and anyone else involved, and they set to work on the project, working collaboratively towards solutions in every department. Each team member still has a specific job to do, but their work is heavily dependent on the work of others and on how the creation of the play progresses. This approach makes the creation of theatre an interdisciplinary task that once again connects technological and artistic innovation: As the technicians open new doors to artistic exploration through new technology, the performers make necessary the advent of new technologies to keep up with their artistic innovation.

After researching Lepage’s exceptional working model with Ex Machina, it’s no surprise that his work so often results in performances of an intermedial nature. His ideology of theatre creation seems to point to the necessity for interdisciplinary integration during the creation process, so it follows that this same interdisciplinary integration has become so prominent in his work.