_ . " ."... .. r'l '~--,,..

-I

" llI III H I\I i\NI ')

"

i\N )I ' 1' 11 ' A l R JI ' i\' I I'\'

Rather than qucstion this c1assification and the insuffieient consideration it

g iws to men of the theatre like Craig or Appia , and to theatrical practices
<lS va ried as those 01' 1\ . Boal 's guerrilla Iheatre, B read & Puppet's political
Ihl'alrc, and the expe riments 0[' A. Bcnedetto. A. Mno uehki ne, the TN$, the
,"'all F rancisco Mime Troupe, and Mabo u Mi rH!s. r ~ hnlllJ likc lO make my
Il WIl IIse 01' il lo a ccoU lll ror Ih!! phcnonH!nn ll 01' rll.:rl'o mHHlee as it has
appeared in Ihe l Ini tcu Sta les anu F u ro pe O\ll'l I lll: pu sr IWCllly yeal's.

Inhunlud l'IllI l Nllll<l lisl pra cliccs in Ihc Iwenlies, as RoseLec Goldbcrg
has ~ h()wn in lu.!r hllOk, P f>r//'ll/(II/('('," artistic perf'ormance enjoyed quite a
h l) lll1l in the lifLil:s. especially in Ihe wake orlhe experiments ofAlJan Kapro\\'
amI ./llhn C age, Conceived as an art-l'orm at the juncture of other signi fy ing
practices as varied as dance, music, painting, architecture, and sClllpture,
Ill~rf'ormance seems paradoxically to correspond on all counts to the ne\\'
Ihcatre invoked by Artalld: a theatre 01' cruelty and violence, 01' the body
amI its drives, 01' displacement and " disruption ," 3 a non-nanative and non
n:prcsentational theatrc, 1 should like to analyse this experience of a ne\\'
genre in hopes of revealing its fundamental characteristics as weIJ as the process
hy \\'hich it works , My ultimate objective is to sho\\' what practices like these,
helonging to the limits of theatre, can tell us about theatricality and its
rclation to the actor and the stage.
Of the many characteristics of performance, 1 shall point to three that, thc
diversity 01' practices and modes notwithstanding, constitute the essential
f'oundations 01' all performance. They are flrst, the manipulation to which
perf'ormam;e subjects the performer's body - a fundamental and indispens
able elcment of any perJ'orming ac\; second , the manipulation of space , which
Ihe performer empties out and then carves up and inhabits in its tiniest nook s
and crannics: and finally , the relation that performance institutes between the
artist and the spectators, between the spectators and the work of art, and
between the work of art and the artist.
a) Firsl. the l1111nipulaliol1 (~r (he I}(xly. Performance is meant to be a physical
accomplishment , so the pcrform er works with his body the way a painter
does with his can vas. He explores it, manipulates it, paints it, covers it,
uncovers it, freezes it, moves it, cuts it, isolates it, and speaks to it as ifit were
a foreign object. It is a chameleon bod)' , a foreign body where the subject's
desires and repressions surface. This has been the experience of Hermann
Nitsch , Vito Acconci , and Elizabcth Chitty. Performance rejects all illusion,
in particular theatrical illusion originating in the rcpression of the body's
"haser" elements, and attempts instead to call attention to certain aspects of
the boJy - the face, gcstural mimicry, and the voice that would normally
escape notice. To this end, it turns to the various media telcphoto lenses, still
cameras , movie cameras, video screens. tclevision - which are there like so
many microscopes to magnify the infinitely small and focus the audience's attcn
tion on the limited physical spaces arbitrarily carved out by the performer's
desirc and transforllled into imaginary spaces, constituting a zonc where
his own emotional Aows and fantasics pass through. These physical spaces
can be parts of the pcrformer's own body magnified to infinity (bits of skin. a
hand , his hcad , etc.). but they can also be certain arbitrarily Iimited. natural
spaccs Ihat the pcrformer cho oses to wr a p t1p and thus reduce to the dimen
sion s o l'm un ipul a ble o bjecls (t.:r. ('hri sto's expe riments with this technique 4).
T hc boJ y is mallc conspicllollS: a body in picces, fragmcnted and yet one, a
booy r crCt.'iw d a nd renJercJ as I /IIa(( ' (I/dnr(' displaccmcl11, and fluctuation,

'o(,

' 11'1

77

PERFO RM AN C E A NO

THEATR I C ALfT Y

The subject dernystified

Josette Fral
Sourcc: Translaled by reTeSe Ly" ns, /vlodem Drama 25( 1) (1 <)~ 2) : 17 1 18 1,

Dcpending on one 's choice of experts, theatre today can be divided into two
different currcnts which 1 shall emphasize here by referring to a remark of
Annette Michelson 's on the performing arts that strikes me as particularly
relevant to my concern:
There are , in the contemporary renewal 01' performancc modes , t\Yo
basic and diverging impulses which shape and animate its major
innovations. The first , grounded in the idealist extensions of a Chris
tian past, is mythopoeic in its aspiration , ec1ectic in its forms, and
constantly traversed by the dominant and polymorphic style which
constitutes thc most tenacious vestige of tha t past: expressionism. Its
celebrants a re: fo r theater. Artaud. Grotowski , l'or film , Murnau and
Hrakhage. and for the dance, Wigman . Graham. The second . con
sistently secular in its commitment to objectificati on, proceeds from
Cubism and Constructivism ; its modcs are anal)'tic and its spokes
men are: for theater, Meyerhold and Brecht, for film , Eisenstein and
Snow , for dance. Cunningham and Rainer. 1

VISIi'"

!\rt I I\ NII 'I I ' \III "~' \NI.; '

1\1< '

I r " " I~'p l ~'~~" d ' lid 1I i.es lo free

cvcn al
the cost nI' greater violcnce. C onsider, tr cx alllp lc, 1h(! in lentionall y provllc
alive scenes where Acconci plays on stagc with his vari o lls bouily prouucts.
Such demonstrations, wh ich are brought to lhe surLlce mo re or lcss violently
by the performer, are presented to the Other' s view, to the view 01' other, in
order lhal lhey ma y undergo a collective veritication. O nce this exploration
of lhe body, and therefore of thc sllbject. has been complcted, anu once
cerlain repressions have been broughl lO light, objeetified, anu represenleu ,
they are frozen under the gaze of the spectalor, who appropriates them as a
for lll 01' knowledge. This leaves the performer free to go on t o new acts and
new performances.
For tbis reaso n, some: performances are unbearable; Ihose of Nitseh, for
exam ple, which do violence not only lO the performer (in bis case, a violence
freely consented to), but also to the spectator who is harassed by images that
both violate b im and do him violence. 5 The spectator has the feeling that he is
taking part in a ritual that combines all possiblc fransgressions - sexual and
physical , real and stageu ; a ritual bringing the performer back to lhe limits of
thc subjcCl conslituted as a whole; a ritual that, starting from the performer's
own "symbolic," attempts to explorc the hidden face of what makes him a
uniticd subjcct: in other words, the I'semiotic" or "chof(f" haun ting him. r, Vet
this is not a return to the divided and silent body of the mother, such as
Kristcva sees in Artalld, but inslead a march ahead towards the dissolution of
the subjecl, not in explosion, scattering, or madness - which are other ways 01'
re Lurning lo the origin - but in death. Performances as a phenomenon worked
through by the death drive: this comparison is not incidental. It is based on
an ex tensive, conscious practice, deliberately consented to: the experience
of a body \Vounded , dismembered , mutilated, and cut up (if only by a movie
camera: e l". Chitty's Demo Jvfode/), a body bel o nging lo a fully accepted
lesionism .'
The body is cut up not in order to negate ir. bul in order to bring it back to
Ji fe in each of its parts which have, each one, become an independent whole.
(T his process is idcntical to Buuel's in Un ehien andalou, when he has one of
the charaeters play wi th a severed hand on a bllsy road.) Instead of atrophy
ing, the bouy is therefore enriched by all the part-objects that make it up
ami whose richness the subject learns to discover in lhe eourse of the per
formance. These parl-objects are privileged, isolated, and magnified by the
performer as he studies their workings and mechanisms , and explores their
under-side, thereby presenting lhe spectators with an experience ;n vi/ro and
in slow motion of what usua 11y takes place on slage.
b) First the maniplll a tion ol' the body, lIJen he manipulo/ion o/ "'pace:
1he re i:; a rlll1~~tional identily between them thal Icads 1he re r rormer to pass
lh ro ugh Ihese places wi thollt cvcr m a kiJlg a dclini ti vc slll p. C a rvi ng out
imaginu ryor rea l spncc:; (;I ~ I\ ~o nci\ R,'d /'If/II'.\'). \ \111.' IIHll1wn l in nnc placc
alld lit!! lIexl lI111n a!nt ill Ihe o lhcr, lhe p ;rf) 11 111 1 IH'''tI ',l'lIles wilhill [hesc

a body Ihl' perfvJ'lllance L'OIH.:c ives

l ())\

" ' i 1(1

III! M \ N ( ", "N ') ' j'" Io!' II!

sil11l1ltan c() lI sl~

re ' \, "y

I'llysical a nu imaginary spaccs, bul insleau traverscs , ex

plo n:s. amI IJH' a~lIrcs thCIll , clTecling displacemenls and minute variations
within them . Hc uoes not occupy lhcm , nor do they limit him: he plays wilh
thc performance space as if it were an object and turns it into a machine
"acting upon thc sCllse organs." x Exactly like the body , therefore. space
becomes existential to the point 01' ceasing to exist as a setting and place. It no
longer sllrrounds and eneJoses the performance, but like the body , beeomes
part ofthe performance to such an exlent that it cannot be distinguished from
il. It is the performance. This phenomenon explains lhe idea that performance
can take place ol1ly within and for a sel spaee to which it is indissolubly tied .
Within this space, which becomes the site of an exploration of the subject,
the performer suddenly seems to be living in slow motion. Time strelches oul
nd dissolves as " swo11en, repetitive , exasperated" gestures (Luciano nga
Pin) seem to be killing time (el'. the almost lInbearablc slo\V motion of some 01'
Michael Snow's experimenls): gestures that are multiplied and begun again
and again (Id injinlum (cf. Acconei 's R ed Tapes), and that are always diffe r
ent , split in two by the camera recording and transmitting them as they are
being carried out on stage before our eyes (cL Chitty). This is Derrida's diffr
once made perceptible. From then on, there is neither past nor futllre, but
only a continuous present - that oflhe immediacy oft'hings, of an oc/ion wking
place. These gestures appear both as a finished prodllct and in the eourse 01'
being carried out , already completed and in motion (cL the use 01' cameras):
gestures that reveal their deepest workings and that the performer executes
only in order to discover what is hidden underneath them (this process is
comparable to Snow's camera filming its own tripod), And the performance
shows this gesture over and over to the point of saturating time, space, amI
the representalion with it sometimes to the point of nausea. Nothing is len
but a kinesics 01' gesture. Meaning - all meaning ~ has disappeareu.
Performance is the absence of meaning. This stalement can be easily
sllpported by anyone coming out of lhe thealre . (We need think only 01' the
audience's surprise and anger with the first "stagings" of the Living Theatre,
01' with those 01' Robert Wilson or Richard Foreman.) And yet, if any experi
cncc is meaningful , without a dOllbt it is that of performance. Performance
does not aim at a meaning, but rather makes meaning insofar as it works right
in those extremely blurred junctures out of which the subject eventllally
emcrges. And performance conscripts this subject both as a constituleu sub~
jlTI amI as a social sllbject in order to dislocate and demystify it.
Performa nce is the death of the subject. We just spoke of the death drive
as being inscribed in performance , conscioLIsly staged and brought into play
by a set of fredy intendcd anu accepted repetitions. This death drive, which
fra )! l11enls the hody and makcs il fun d ion likc so many pa rt-o bjects, reap
r cu rs at lite cll d nI" lhc pcr l"Orlll;IIHX wltcn il is fixcd 011 l he video screen.
Ind ccd, il is nI' inlc l'cl'l 1n II n 1l: Ih 111 ~vcry Iwrforrnance ultimatel y meelS
l il e vid,;\) scn:c 11, W\':I'C lite ~kI1l Y" l tll4' d '; lIhjl'l"l is frozcn and lIies. T hcre,
'11')

I S l' \,

1\ 11 I A N I j

" l llt I'f/l11\1\ N ( ' ,. i\ R I

perlrrmlJ ll:C (1111':0 a g a i ll em;ollll te ls n 'p rcsClIlll lII II I. 110111 which il wan tcul o
escape al all cos ls anu which lIlarks bol h ils fultilr lll'lIl alld il:; elld.
c) In point Oft~lct , the artisl's relati on to his own perfo rmance is no longer
one of an actor to his role, even if that role is his actua l one, as the Living
Theatre wanted it to be. When he refuses to be a protagonist, the performcr
no more plays himself than he represents himself. I nstead, he is a source of
production and displacement. Having become the point of passagc fo r energy
110ws gestural, vocal, libidinal, etc. - that traverse him without ever stand
ing still in a {lxed meaning or representation. he plays at putting those flows
to work and seizing networks. The gestures tl1at he carries out lead to nothing
if not to the flow of the desire that sets them in motion. T his respo nse proves
once again that a performa nce means nothing and aims for no single, specific
meaning, but attem pts instead to reveal places of passage, or, as Foreman
would say, "rhythm s" (the t rajectory of gesture. of the body, of the eamera,
ofview, etc.). In so doing, it attempts to wake the body - the performer's and
the speetator's- from the threatening anaesthesia haunting it.
It seems to me that all of us here are working on material, rearrang
ing it so that the resultant performance more accurately reflects not
a perception of the world - but the rhythms of an ideal world of
activity, remade, the better in which to do the kind of pereeption we
eaeh would like to be doing.
We are, lhen, presenting the audience with objects of a strange sort,
that can only be savored ifthe audience is prepared to establish ne\\'
perceptual habits - habits quite in conflict with the ones they have
been taught to apply at classical performance in order to be re~
warded with expeeted gratifieations. In classical performance, the
audience learns that if they allow attention to be led by a kind of
childish, regressive desire-for-sweets. the artist will ha ve strategically
placed those sweets at just the "crucial" points in the piece where
attention threatens to c1imax. 9
This technique accounts for the "sc\eetive inattention" that Richard Schechner
speaks ofin Essuys 0/1 Perjrl11u/1ce. 10 No more than the spectator, though, is
the performer implicated in the performance. He always keeps his viewi ng
rights. He is the eye, a substitute ror the carnera that is filming, freezi ng, o r
slowing down, and he causes slides, superpositions, and enlargements with a
space and on a body that have beco me the tools of his own exploration.
In our work , however. wha t's presented is n ot whal' s "appealing"
(th e min ute som clhing is a ppealin g it's l refe rence lu the past and lo
inhcrit cd "ta::;te") b ul ralher what h<l s hen:lolOl c uo l heclI orga n
ized by lhe mi no inlo I"Ixogniza blc .Uc :; l n l l '\ ~ ,'V\"I yllrlll! Ihal has

10

l ' Ji ItI ( 1ft M ;\ N ('le

N "

I 11 I \ I IU

l 1\

n y

hL' rel\)J'llIC "c~ caped Ilolice." And the ternptation cach of us fights, I
I hink. is lo becol1le prematurely "intcrested" in what we uncover. 11
This situation is all the more difficult ror the spectator since performance,
caught up as it is in an unending series of often very minor transformations,
escapes formalismo Having no set form, every performance constitutes its
IIwn genrc, and every artist brings to it, according to hi s background and
dcsires, subtly different shadings that are hs alone: T risha Brown 's per
t"ormances lean towards the dance, Meredith M onk 's towards music Some,
however, tend in spite of themsclves towards theatre: Acconci's Red Tapes,
f"or example, or Michael Smith 's Dow/1 i/1 lhe Rec Room. AH 01' this goes to
show that it is hard to talk about performance. This difficulty can be seen also
in Ihe various kinds of research on the subjeet. often in the forms of photo
alhums recording the fixed traces ofperformances that are forever over, with
I he few critical studies 01' tibe subject tending towards historicism or descrip
lion. Here we touch upon a problem identical to one presented by the thcatre
IIf non-represcntation: how can we talk about the subject without betraying
il? 110\V can we explain it? From descriptions of stagings taking place else
where or existing no longer. to the fragmente\l'y, critical discourse of scholars,
I he theatrical experience is bound al\Vays to escape any attempt to give an
accurate account of it. Faced with this problem. which is fundamental to a1l
spectacles, performance has given selfits own memory. With the help oft he
video camera with which every performance ends , it has provided itself with
a past.

* *

"k

Ir one judges from everything that has thus far been said about performance,
il certainly seems difficult to ascertain the relationship between theatre and
performance. And if \Ve turn to the statements of certain performers, that
n:lationship would even seem to be, of necessity , one of exclusion. Michac\
l :ried \vrites to that effect: "theatre and theatricality are at war today, not
sil11ply with modernist painting (or modernist painting and sculpture). but
with art as such - and to the extent that different arts can be described as
IlIodernist. with modernist sensibility as such."'2 F ried sets forth his argu
IIlcn! in two parts:
1) 'hc Sl/ceC,I's. CI'C/1 lhe surl'il'u/.

01' he arls has come i/1creasi/1g/y

lo dcpend

U/1 lh('ir (/hifily lo de/CUI lhealre.

') /l rr c!('g('I/NurC.l

(/.1'

ir (/jljl rl!(.J{' h(,I' rhe ("()l1ditiol7 ol'rhcalrc."

II (\\v " s lll"h:, sla lc.: ll1cn l lo he ....:\plllimd lel :jOllc j usti ried? If wc agrce wit h
1lI-llld: Ihal Ih ca ln,':l,;illI lI lIl c'{r: tp ~' I"\ tll ' ~'r I Csc n l:rli \ln wh ich ~ic Il a lcs and

II

VIS II /\I .

\ I( I

ANL. l'I!H! rllltM,\N I.' 1

\I( ..

1IlH.ll' rJlIilll:S il, ami if we a lso ill:! llT I ha 1 1" l'Ull l' ~'tlIIIIOI ~'''ca pc lIarrativity (all
the current theatrical cxpc ricllccs rm vc as IlIlH.: h , I:X(,:C pl pcrhaps ror those 01'
Wilson and Fo reman, which alrcady bclong to performance), thcn it \Vould
seem obvious that theatrc and art are incQmpatible. "In the thcatre, every
form once boro is mortal ... ," Peter Brook writes in The Empty Space. 14 But
as I havejust stated , performance is not a formalism. It rejects form, which is
immobility, and opts, instead, fol' discontinuity and slippagc. Jt seeks what
Kaprow was already calling for in happenings thirty years ago: "The dividing
line between art and lite should remain as fluid and indistinct as possible and
time and space should remain variable and discontinuollS so that, by continu
ing to be open phenomena capable ofgiving way to change and the unexpected,
performances take placc only once.'' .I Are \Ve very far from what Artaud
advocateo for the theatre , or from what the Living Theatre ano Groto\Vski ,
following Artauo , have demanoeo as the mooel for theatre 's rellewal: Ihe
stage as a " li ving" place ano the playas a "one time only" experience?
That performance shoulo reject its oepe.noence on thea tre is certainly a sign
that it is not only possible, but without a oOllbt also legimate, to compare
theatre ano performance, since no one ever insists upon his oistance from
something unless he is afraio 01' resembling it. I shall not attempt, therefore,
to point out the similarities between theatre and performance, but rather
show how the two mooes camplement each other ano stress what theatre can
learo from performance. Inoeeo , in its very strippeo-oown workings , its
exploration of the booy. ano its joining 01' time ano space, performance gives
us a kind of theatricality in slow motion: the kino \Ve find at work in tooay's
theatre. Performance explores the unoer-sioe of that theatre, giving the audi
ence a glimpse of its insioe, its reverse sioe, its hiooen face.
Like performance, theatre oeals with the imaginary (in the Lacanian sense
of the term). [n other woros , it makes use 01' a technique 01' constructing
space, allowing subjects to settle there: first the canstruction of physical space,
ano then of psychological space. A strange paralle1, mooel1ing the shape of
stage space on the subject's space ano vice versa , can be traceo bet ween them .
Th US , whenever an actor is expecteo to ingest the parts he plays so as to
bccome one \Vith them (here \Ve might think ofnineteenth-century theatre, of
natllralist theatre, ano of Sarah Bernharot's first parts) , the stage asserts its
nneness ano its tota1ity . It is, ano it is Ol1e, ano the actor, as l unitary subjcct,
hclongs to its wholeness.

l' U < I I I I( M \ N ( : t

!\ N , ,

I 11 1, \ I IU ( , \ 1.1 I Y

Closer to us, in experiences of present-day theatre (experimental theatre.

alkrnativc theatre
here \Ve might think 01' the Living Theatre 's first ex
perirnents, or, more recently, 01' Bob Wilson's), the \Vay theatrical space is
cnnstructed attcmpts to ma ke ta ngibl e a mI appa rent the \Vh o lc play 01' the
imagin a ry as it seLs subjects (and nOl CI slIbjcCl) (lB Slilgc. T hc proCCsscs
whc rc hy Ihe Ih ca tril:a l r hcn olllcnon is w ns lrllCl c\ 1 as \Vc ll ;IS lhe f'olln J a li on
Ill'l h1I ph Cl1 mnCIlO II a n I.!xtcnsivc play (1 rd oU hllOf IlId pc,,'rf1l lllal ion lha t is
I1h U\,.' 01 Icss .,hv iolls <1m.! llJ \l rl: 0 1' Icss dllk ll'II f1 i1l n l dl' Pl'lldil l!' II p O Il IIIc!

specilic d irt:cll1l a mi aillls lhlls beco me ap parent : the oivision bctwcen actor
amI characlcr (a slIhjcct that Pirandello dealt with very well) ; the oOllbling 01'
the actor (insofar as he survives arter lhe oeath of the text) ano the character;
the ooubling of the author ano the oirector (cf. Ariane Mnouchkine); amI
lastly, the ooubling of the oirector ano thc actor (cL Schcchncr in e/o/hes).
As a group, these permlltations forl11 oifferent projcction spaces, reprcsenting
different positions of oesire by sctting oown subjects in process.
Subjects in process: the sllbject constructeo on stagc projects himself into
objects (charactcrs in cla ssical thcatre , part-objects in performance) \vhich he
can invent , multiply , ano eliminate if neco be . Ano these constructeo objects,
proollcts of his ima.gination ano 01' its oifferent positions of oesire, constitute
so many "a"-objeets for him to usc or abuse accoroing to the neeos of his
inner economy (as with the use of movie cameras or vioeo screens in ma ny
performances). In the theatre , these "a"-o bjccts are fro zen for the ouration of
the pl ay, In performance, on the other hano , they move about ano reveal an
imaginary that has not been a1ienateo in a fi g ure 01' fixation like characters in
the classical theatre, or in any other fixeo theatrical formo rol' it is inoeeo a
q uestion of the " subject," ano not of characters. in today's theatre (Foreman ,
Wilson) and in performance . 01' course, the conventional basis of the actor's
"art," inspireo by Stanislavski , requires the actor to live his character from
within ano canceal the ouplicity that inhabits him while he is on stage. Brecht
rose up against this i11usion when he calleo for a oistancing of the actor from
his part ano a oistancing of the spectator from the stage. When he is faceo
\Vith this prob[em , the performer's response is original, since it seems to
resol ve the oilemma by completely renouncin g character ano putting the
artist himse1f on stage . The artist takes the position 01' a oesiring - a perform
ing - subject , but is nonetheless an anonymous subject playing the part of
himsclf on sta ge. From then on, since it tells of nothing ano imitates no one,
pcrformance escapes all illusion ano represe nta tion. With neither past nor
fllture , performance /ak e.l' place. It turos th e stage into an event from which
the subject will emerge transformeo until a nother performance, whcn it can
continuc on its \Va y. As lon g as performance rej ects narrativity ano repre
scntation in th is way, it also rejects the symbolic organization oominating
theatrc ano exposes the conoition s of theatricality as they are. Theatrica1ity
is maoe of this enoless play ano 01' these continuolls oisplacements of the
position of desire , in other words, 01' the position 01' the subject in process
within an imaginary eonstructive space.
[t is prccisely when it comes to the position ofthe subject, that performance
;lI1d thcatrc \Vollld seem to be mutllally exclusive ano that thcatre \Voulo per
h l;lp~ havc sOl1lcthing to learn fro m performance. Inoeeo , theatre cannot do
wilho ll llhc su b jcct (a co mpktdy tlss urm:d subject) , ano the exercises lo which
Mcycrhrlld '.Ind , la ter on , <.irotowsk i slIbjcctcd thcir stuoents cOlllo only
(.'o ll solidu lc 1he pllsil io n ()I' 1111' IIl1i llll V sllhjl.'cl 0 11 sla ge . Performance, how
L've r, all hll Llph bc~j lllli llg will! 11 11l'11 l'l' IIV ; 1~;t; lIl l1l'O su bjcCl, bri ngs clllu tional

212

' 1I

V I S I \ 1

\ It I

"N 1I l' 11 It l' ti H M1\

1'( , ln IIlt M A N ( , I

Il ows a nd ~y lllholil' ohjl.'ds illl!' a lk sldlll l/l: d ,p llI ' IIlc hody , sp:i\X inl0 <In
infrasymbolic lOnc . Thesc obj;cl:s a r; o nl y il ll.: id cl1 la ll y cOllvcycJ by a sl/hj('CI
(herc, thc pcrl'ormcr), anJ that subjccL Icnds hilllsdf ollly vcry superlicia lly
ami partiaH y to his own performance. Brokon d o wn into sCl1liotic bundlcs
and drivcs, he is a purc catalyst. He is what p ermils the appearance 01' whal
shou/d appear. Indeed, he makes tran sition , movement, a nd d isplaccment
possiblc.
Performance, therefore, appears as a primary process lacking tc1eology
and unaccompanied by any secondary process , since performance has noth
ing to represent for anyone. As a result, performance indicates the theatre \
nwrgin (Schechner wo uld say its "seal1l"), theatre's fringes, something which
is never said, but which, although hidden , is necessarily prcsent. Perform
ance demystifies the subject on stage: the subject's being is simultaneously
exp/oded into part-objects and cundel1.1'ed in each 01' those objects, which have
themselves become independent entities, each being simultaneously a mar
gin and a centre. Margin does not refer here to that which is excluded. On
the contrary, it is used in the Derridian sense of the term to mean the trame,
and consequently, what in the subje;t is most important, most hidden , most
reprcssed , yet most active as well (Derrida would say the "Parergon "1 6).
In other words, it refers to the subject's entirc store of non-theatrieality.
Performances can be seen , thcrefore, as a storehouse for the accessories of
the symbolic, a depository of signifiers which are all outside of established
discourse and behind the scenes 01' theatricality. The theatre cannot callupon
them as such, but, by il1lplication , it is upon these accessories that theatre is
built.
In contrast to performance, theatre cannot keep from setting up, stating,
constructing, ami giving points of view: the director's point 01' view, the
author's towards the action, the actor's towards the stage, the spectator's
towards the actor. There is a multiplicity 01' viewpoints and gazes, a "densi ty
of signs" (to quote Barthes l7) setting up a thetic multiplicity absent from
performance.
Theatricality can therefore be seen as composed 01' t\Vo different parts: o ue
highlights performance ami is made up of the rea/ilies ollhe il11aginary; and
the other highlights the theatrical and is made up 01' speciJic .Iyrnho/ic slru c
lUres. The former origina tes within the subject and allows his flows of desire
to speak; the latter inscribes the subject in thelaw ami in theatrical codes,
which is to say , in lhe symbolic. Theatricality arises from lhe play between
these two realities . From then on it is necessarily a theatricality tied to a
desiring subject, a fact which no doubt accounts for our difficulty in dcfin ing
i1. Theatrica lity cannot he, it must befr someone_ In other words, it is fr
lhe Olher.
Th c Ill llltiplicily nI' silllultaneous struc lu reli lha( CHn
secn al work in
pe rformance scems, in facl, 10 cons lilu ll! In ut 11 n rles!'> , aC l!)J'!cSli, and
d irl!c lorll:ss illli'o !I! ('(// U ('(/!ill '. Ind cl!d , pcrfnfm;lllt,;\ '1\'\: 11 '" lit be ultcm pti i! lo

ne

Id

J\ N I I

1" I f\ I I(

(1'

,\1 I .. \'

Il'vca l lid tu sl : I)' ~ sOllll'lhin g tha l l(J\)k pl: l\':c hdrl' the rcprescntation orthe
slIhjcl'l (l~ W II ir il L10es so by lIs ing;lll aln:ady CIlnslilllted su~iect) , in the salTle

wa y thal il is intcrcsted more in (In actoion as it is being produced than in a

lin ishcd product. Now, what takes place on stage comprises f1ows, accumula
tiollS , anJ conneetions ofsignifiers that ha ve been organized neither in acode
(hl~ncc the multiplicity 01' media ami signifying languages that performance
IIlakes use 01': bils 01' representation ami narration and bits of meaning), nor
in strllctures permitting signification. Performance can therefore be seen as a
nlachinc working with serial signifiers: pieces of bodies (d. the dismcmber
lIlent and Icsionism we have already discLlssed), as \Vell as pieces 01' meaning,
rcpresentation , and libidinal f1O\vs , bits of objects joined together in m uJtipolar
l'IlIlcatenations (cf. Acconci 's Red Tapes and the fragmentary spaces he moves
ahout in: bits ofa building, bits ofrooms , bits ofwalls, etc.). i\nd all ofthis is
without narrativity .
The absence 01' narrativity (continuoLls narrativity, that is) is one of lhe
dominant characteristics 01' performance. 11' the performer should unwittingly
1'.ive in to the temptation of narrativity, he does so never continuously or
l'onsistently, but rather ironically with a certain rcmove , as if he were quot
ing, or in order to reveal its inner workings . This absence lcads to a certain
rrustration on the part 01' the spectator, when he is confronted with perform
ance which takes him away from the experience oftheatrieality. F or there is
lIothing to say about performance, nothing to tell yourself. nothing to gr<lsp,
projcct, introject, except for fto ws, networks, and systems. Everything a ppca rs
anJ disappears like a galaxy of "transitional objects"l~ representing o nly the
failures 01' representation . To experience performance, one must simultane
lIusly be there and take part in it , while ;ontinuing to be an outsider. Perform
:mce not only speaks to the mind , but also spcaks to the sen ses (cf. Angcla
Ricci Lucchi 's and Gianikian 's experiments with smell), ami it speaks from
subject to subject. It attempts not to teH (like theatre), but rather to provokc
synaesthetic relationships between subjects. In this, it is similar to Wilson 's
nI(' L/le and Times o/ JO.l'eph Stalin as described by Schechner in Essay s on

l'crjrnwl1ce. 19
Performance can therefore be seen as an art-form whose primary aim is to
lindo "competencies" (which are primarily theatrical). Performance readjusts
I hcse competcncies and redistributes them in a desystemati7.ed arrange
menL We cannot avoid speaking of "deconstruction" here. We are not , how
('vcr, dealing with a "Iinguistico-theoretical" gesture, but rather with a real
gesturc, a kind of deterritorialized gesturality. As such, performance poses a
challenge lo the theatre and to any refiection that theatre might make upon
ilsdr. Performance rorients such rcllcctions by forcing them to open up and
by compc lling lhelll lO expl o re Ihe Illargins 01' theatre. For this reason, an
I,lxc llrsioll inll) performance has sccnll:d 11\)1 onl y interesting, but essential to
IIltill lHh.' Cl)lh.;crn , which is lO Jllllll! h;k 1\l lhe Lhl:atre arter l long det o ur
hc hilld the SCCI1 CS uf lhca l1 i ~: di l y

,,"r

'l

\ . I t, 11

t\

1(

t\ N

1)

l' 1: JI I H

li

1\ 1 1\ ~ 1.- 1:

/1 I( I

N I,h"
A lIlI ll tll.: Mi chdsOll , " Yvollnc I{:lim:r. 1'01 1 (l IH' 1111' 1);lIIl'llr :111(1 Ih u 1):lIIl'C,"
Ir(jimllll , 12 (Janua ry 1(>74),57 .
2 RoseLee GolJbcrg, Pcr/im1/ancc: Lil'c Art, IVOY lo 1/1(' Prc.\"('/Il (N(~ w Yo rk , Il)7(.
3 Lueiano Inga- Pill ~ ay s this in his prefacc to the pho to album on pc rforl11i:1l1cu.
Per/mnan(:e.l', J-Japfienings, AC/ion.\', Erenl.\', Aclil'ilies. Jllslallaliolls (Padua, 1970).
4 By wrapping up diffs and entire buddings in their natural sunroundings, Christo
isolates them. He thus sirnultaneously ernphasizes their gigantie s2e and negates it
by his ve ry project, and estra nges his objects from the natural setting frol11 which
he takes them (cf. Photo 11 0 . 48 in the illustrations to Inga-Pin).
5 The performances ofthe Austrian artist Hermann Nitsch were inspired by aneient
Diollysiac ami C hrist ia n rites adapted to a modern eontext designed to illustrate in
l praetical fi:lshion thc Aristotelian notion of eatharsis through fear, terror, 01'
cornpassion. Ilis Orgies. Mys leries, Thealre were performed on nurnerous occa
sions in the scventies. A typieal performance l1sted several hours. 1t began with
loud rnusie followed by Nitseh ordering the cerelllonies to begin. A l1mb with its
throat slit was brought into the midst ofthe participants. Its earcass was crueified ,
and its intestines removed an d po ured (with their blood) over a naked rnan or
woman lying beneath the animal. This praetice originated in Nitseh ' s belief th a t
humanity 's aggressive instincts had been repressed by the media. Even ritual
animal saerifiees , which were so eommon alllong primitive pcoples, have tot a lly
disappeared frolll modern experience. Nitsch's ritual acts thus represented a way
of giving full rein to the repressed ene rgy in mano At the same time, they func
tioned as aets of purification and redemption through suffering. (Ths description
is based on Ihe diseussi on found in Goldberg, p. 106.)
6 These notions are borrowed fr om Juli a Kristeva, La R vol/ltion da !angage p otique
(Paris, 1974).
7 " Lesionism " refers to a practiee whereby the bod y is represented no! as an entity
or a unitcd wh ole, but as d iv idcd into P,HtS o r fragments (cL Inga-Pin , p. 5).
8 lnga-Pin , p. 2.
9 Stephcn Koeh , Rich a rd Foreman , et al. , " Pelformance. A Conversation ," Arlfrum,
,1 \ (Deeember 1972), 53 - 54.
10 Richard Schechner, El-says on Perjrr/'la/'lce Theo ry. 1970 /976 (New York, 1977),
p.147.
11 Koch ,54.
12 Michael Fried , " Art and Objecthood ," Arlfrwn (Junc 1(67), rpt. in Minima! Arl.
ed. Gregory Battcock (New York , 1(68), p. 139.
13 Ibid. , pp. 139 141.
14 Peter Brook , Tll e Emply ,'>'p({ce (Ncw York , 1(69), p. 16.
15 Allan Ka p row , A.\'semhlage. Enl'iro/lmenlS a/'le! Happenings (New Yo rk, 1(66),
p. 190, quoted in Pnjrmnallce hy Arr\'IS , ed. A. A . Bronso n and Peggy Galc
(Toronto, 1(79), p. 193.
16 See Jaeques Derrida, La Vril 1'11 peil1lure (Paris, 1978).
17 Ro land Barthes, "Baudelai,re 's Theater," in Critical Essays, transo Richard Iloward
(Evanston , 1972), p. 26.
18 See Donald W. Winnieott. P!ayil1g (//1(1 R ('a lily (New York, 1971).
19 Schechner develops the idea 01' "selective inattenti on" in his discu ssio n 01' Wilson ' s
Tlle Lije a{u! Times of.fosepll Sla!in (Schechner. pp. 147 - 148):

I' P I( I ' ! lItl\l l\N f '

Wt; 111 11111 IIlIlv dmill !!

n1:1 uy

111,'

hi~

i\N I '

I I I I!.' I llI C i\I . ' 1 )

1~ 1IIIIIIIIl' IlIll' I I I II~~ I(lIIS hU I :liso durillg

01 Ilt l' ~I c ls nI' Wilsll ll ' s St:VCII-iI(:I IIp,:ra , 1'I1l: opera uc;rru l at 7 pm

alld 1':1 11 m uru l!tan 12 hOllrs . . .. '1 11<.: bchilvior in the I.e Perq spacc was
lIot Ihc same throughout Ihe lIi gh1. I)uring the lirst three <Lets the space
was generally cm p ty exept for inte rmi ssio n , But increasi ng ly as the
night went Oll pco plc cam e to the space anu stayed th e re speak ing to
fricnds, taking a break {'rom the performance , to loop o ut o fth e ope ra ,
later to re-cnter. About halfthe audience left th e IIAM before th e perform
ance was ove..; but those who remained , like repea ted siftings of flour ,
were finer and fin er cxamples of Wi1son fans: the a lldienee sorted itself
out until those of liS who sta yed for th e wholc ope ra sha red not only the
expericl1ce 01' Wilson ' s work but the expcrience of expe ri encing iL

For (he DeccmbeL 1973, performances ... al I h ~ Broo kly n Academ y 01'
M lIsie's " pe rll ho use . the Le Pe rq space f'\) \l lll 111' ahnlll 150 leel hy 80
-ceI W;IS ~ e t up wilh la blcs, c ha irs, n: rr~ IIIIH'lI t ~ a " llw wller.: pcoplc

11 (,

1I "