"The problem for theatre is that the
images we remember from 9/11 are so cataclysmically enormous that the intimacy
of a performance may not do them justice. But we shall see." –user 'Alarming'
"given the massive nature of this very
recent event, it seems that common decency requires that in using this event,
Goold really must have something profound to communicate. But, the reporter's
write-up gives no clue as to what profundity this essentially devised work will
say." -user 'savonarola'
The quotes listed above are taken
from a virtual conversation appearing in the comments section of The Guardian's August 24, 2011 article, "Rupert Goold's Decade: Can 9/11 Work on the Stage?"
The dialogue generically points to the concern that performance cannot possibly
capture the enormity or severity of such events as the September 11, 2001 terrorist
attacks. Thus, any such attempts must fall into the dreaded category of ‘bad’
theatre, as opposed to the equally reductive classification ‘good’ theatre: two
categories that are seemingly ubiquitous in conversations concerning theater inspired by horrific
human events, such as 9/11, the Holocaust, or the use of atomic warfare in WWII. These broad labels depend on the idea that
theatre and performance based on such events must mirror their originals in
nature (through theatricality so great as to re-present the lived experience)
or in elicited emotion (individual empathy/sympathy felt so fully as to
duplicate the real-life trauma). In evaluating theatre and performance, whether
it attempts to wrestle with the well-known events of 11 years ago or is concerned
with mundane everyday actions, we must dispense with these useless evaluative
categories and with our unfounded expectations for what theatre and performance should
depict, represent, elicit, propose, ignite, sustain, abolish…
At its core, theatre can be either
active or inactive. Active theatre engages an audience and releases its members
from the viewing space charged with the need to act – to dive into lively conversation,
to push for a political or social movement, to be a better family member - any action inspired by the events that unfolded on stage. The
point is not what the action is, but that an action is enacted post-performance.
Inactive theatre fails to engage in this way; the audience does not leave with
the urge/desire/need to connect with the world outside the theatre in a
vigorous manner.
Theatre concerning the events of
9/11 should no longer be lumped into meaningless categories, such as ‘good’ or ‘bad.’
Performance and theatre studies provides us with tools to create active
theatre, to educate audiences and make them better spectators, and to engage
difficult material in the works we produce. Theater inspired by the events of 9/11 must be evaluated not on the works' ability to recreate the tragedy, to elicit 'fitting' emotional responses, or to handle the subject matter in an 'appropriate' manner, but by its ability to excite a spectator beyond the performance space's walls.
I would like to close this post
with four quotes taken from various contributors to Theatre Journal’s March 2002 article, “A Forum on Theatre and
Tragedy: A Response to September 11, 2001.” Each passage points to the special position
of the audience, as well as the incredible agency inherent to this worthy role:
“the most significant
strategy in the creation of the form of tragedy was the invention of the
audience…tragedy invented the audience as a collective unity that, from somewhere
outside of the action, could witness and judge…The audience was imbued with a
position of authority through its emotional and moral perspective on events”
(Sue-Ellen Case 108).
“Events on September 11 did not
create a tragedy. Rather, they created a community for whom tragedy, as one of
many possibilities, can be freshly understood…In other words, it has been not
tragedy but audiences that have been ‘dead,’ historicized into needing other
more historical or ironic forms to mediate the real” (Alice Raynor 131).
“’I almost hesitate to claim that
in truth tragedy implies more optimism in its author than does comedy, and that
its final result ought to be the reinforcement of the onlookers’ brightest opinions
of the human animal.” – quoted by Harry J. Elam, Jr. from Arthur Miller’s “Tragedy
and the Common Man” (102).
“If our imaginations can lead us
to profound, performative empathy, I believe ever more strongly that the space
of performance must be harnessed to imagine love instead of hatred, to create
hopeful fictions of meaningful lives instead of senseless deaths” (Jill Dolan 106).
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