For the past four days I have been watching two shows a night from the next generation of directors from most German speaking conservatories which teach directing, as well as some international additions from Denmark and the Netherlands. As different as the productions are, in their subjects, working methods, acting styles and directorial signatures, a strong use of music is almost ubiquitous.
In my workshop during the Körber Studio Junge Regie, however, I tried to emphasise a notion of musicality which has little to do with how much music was used in a production.
I sought at first to map the field briefly, trying to tease out some of the core aspects of musicality (how it may provide a different perspective on the materiality of theatre, a disposition to 'attunement' of the sense to rhythm, timbre, sound qualities, formal relationships etc. of theatrical events, a different working process and, perhaps, as a result, a different aesthetics.
One interesting interjection by a participant gave me food for thought in particular: he would sometimes warn actors "now you are just singing!" when they started loosing the actual sense of what they were saying. It hadn't really occurred to me that the strategy used by the likes of Artaud, Gertrude Stein, Robert Wilson etc etc. to de-sematise language order to increase our appreciation for its sonic and rhythmic qualities could of course, in different contexts, backfire and become an escape, a formal ornamentation of language stripping it of its actual meaning.
It does emphasise the point that there isn't one single recipe of musicality that always 'works', but that different contexts, aesthetics, individuals and materials require different kinds of musicality.
Another interesting conversation (amongst many!) was about, whether my book would also include the perspective of the audience. Surely it wouldn't be enough to talk about intentions, strategies, process and manifestos; I would also need to investigate how musicality was received, how it might depend on personal factors and preferences, even the position of audience members in the auditorium etc. All this is true and would desirable, but it is for many reasons more than I can possibly cover at the moment, even if I had a time machine and could fly back to 1920s Russia, for example, to interview Meyerhold's audiences.
What I found really rewarding about the workshop and some of the brief talks and reactions I had with and from participants was the impression, that some of this was actually genuinely useful for them. I am the last person to say the research always has to immediately demonstrate it use and impact - a lot of the greatest inventions came out of pure and uncalculating curiosity - but I do believe that ideally theory, experiment, and creative practice engage in a cyclical interplay in which one challenges and enriches the other.
Monday, 2 April 2012
Thursday, 29 March 2012
Workshop in Exeter
Yesterday I gave the workshop I announced earlier in this blog (post from 16 Feb) as part of Theatre Devon's Exeter Performers Playground initiative. Eleven practitioners from a range of background joined in as we explored the musicality of movement, voice and ... well ... apples.
It was really stimulating (and challenging!) to try to summarize some of the discoveries I have made at my desk over the past 8-9 months and to make them productive for practical exploration and experiment.
A few things struck me in particular during this session:
In one experiment I asked one performer to execute a simple task (no acting!), peeling and eating an apple on stage. We then repeated the exercise but I added a simple 'drone' from a synthesizer, a kind of 'non-music' that I had hope would be relatively unexpressive, but would somehow alter our perception: sharpeing our ears for the acoustic aspect of this mundane performance, letting us hear the peeling, cutting, biting and chewing embedded in sound and thus more 'musical'. The opposite was the case. The participants agreed that the had paid much more attention to the soundscape of the exercise when there was silence. The 'drone' for them introduced a well-worn film-music trope: a foreboding, attention seeking narrative device, that took their attention away from the here and now (or: hear and now!) of the little scene and instead into narrative speculation about what was going to happen.
A second exercise worked more in the way that I had hoped: I asked two pairs of performers to perform the same task (apples, again!), but asked them to use the specific quality of a piece of music I played while they were doing the scene - neither illustrating or fictionalising the music's presence, but merely trying to translate its qualities (rhythm, melodic shapes, timbre, mood etc.) into how the ate their apples.
What was interesting to me was that the two performers in each case translated the music quite differently, responding less in a planning, premeditated way, but letting the music affect their breathing, heart-beat, posture etc. and work its way from the outside in, evoking emotion. Inevitably, however, as a audience, we began to fantasise about the characters' psyche, motivation and relationship.
What this also means, as some of the participants commented at the end, is that musicality does not mean a specific aesthetic, a particular aesthetic, but a shift of attention (for the practitioner, the audience or both), which can lead to very different things: abstraction, defamiliarisation, but equally, enhancing presence, narrative or characterisation.
As it happened, I had just come out of a fascinating talk that Tim Crouch gave immediately before my workshop, in which he strongly (and very convincingly) made a case for leaving a gap between actor and character, so that the audience actually has some space for imagination, speculation, engagement and not be confronted with a hermetically sealed figuration of a character and its situation. Musicality, it occurred to me again, can be one way of opening up this gap, of providing an irritation, a shift, a little grain of sand in an oyster. And as we know, that's how pearls are made!
It also became clearer to me than before, that I was pursuing a non-normative, non-prescriptive notion of musicality in the theatre: a musicality that is contextual, individual and opens up pathways rather than dictating a specific route.
Friday, 23 March 2012
Eraritjaritjaka and the Intermediality of Heiner Goebbels’ Music Theatre
| Yesterday, I gave a talk as part of the "Frontiers +" Symposium: 'Music as Theatre, Theatre as Music' which this year features and celebrates the internationally acclaimed composer and director Heiner Goebbels. For anyone familiar with his work, the connection to why I should mention him in a blog on "the musicality of theatre" is evident. His work is strongly influenced by the idea that as a director he works like a composer, and as a composer, he works like a director, an idea he explores in more detail in the book on Composed Theatre I recently co-edited.
My talk concentrated on the complex
interaction of music and theatre and their perception focusing in
particular on the dissolution of clearly definable borders between these
art forms and their media using Heiner Goebbels’ experimental
music-theatre production Eraritjaritjaka (2004) as a case study.
The methodological considerations that precede the analysis are based on notions of intermediality and extend the idea of an intermedial relation that “consists in one medium representing another” (Schröter) into three types of relations, which I label metaphorically “Suchbild” (picture puzzle), “Kippfigur” (reversing ambiguous figures) and the “Schwellenphänomen” (liminal phenomenon). In my argument these notions are used to distinguish different forms of cohesion or fusion between music and the theatrical in relation to process and performance. Goebbels’ production consciously challenges and blurs boundaries of clearly distinguishable media, distinguishable genres and distinguishable performance modes. This talk is an excerpt from a chapter, in which I also look at similar intermedial movements in Lars von Trier's Dancer in the Dark. The chapter will be published later this year as: „Dancing in the Twilight – On the Borders of Music and Theatre”, in: Risi, Clemens; Karatonis, Pamela; Symonds, Dominic (eds.): The Legacy of Opera. Amsterdam: Rodopi 2012. | ||||
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Two workshops in Exeter and Hamburg
Marking roughly the half-way point in my time on this project, I am excited to leave the 'writer's den' for a workshop, in which I try to both summarize some of my findings so far, but also, and perhaps more importantly, try to translate them into a few exercises and experiments, which I hope to be of interest to today's theatre practitioners.
Here is brief description of the workshop which I will give in Exeter and Hamburg in March and April - the basic concept will be the same for both, but context and working language (English/German) will vary.
Here is brief description of the workshop which I will give in Exeter and Hamburg in March and April - the basic concept will be the same for both, but context and working language (English/German) will vary.
In this workshop will explore the notion of ‘musicality’ and
its significance and potential for processes of theatre making. Using notions
of music as models, metaphors or actual principles of practice in the theatre
has a long tradition. It has been discussed by a variety of directors, actors,
stage designers and playwrights ranging from Goethe to Beckett, Meyerhold to
Artaud, Appia to Wilson all of which put forward musicality as a strategy for
writing, directing and performing, but with quite different theatrical aims and
results.
We will initially discuss some of the key themes and concepts
of this interdisciplinary notion of musicality and will then conduct a number
of small exercises, which aim to be leaping off points for any future
experiments with musicality you may wish to incorporate into your theatre
making processes.
I will give this workshop first as part of the Exeter Performers Playground, hosted by Theatre Devon and the Drama Department, University of Exeter, on Wed, 28 March, 6-9pm,
Exeter University Drama Department, Thornlea, TS1.
Exeter Performers' Playground is "a new initiative in Exeter, aiming to provide workshop and training opportunities for Devon-based performance makers. We run regular sessions for skills sharing, experimenting and play, and explore a variety of performance techniques. We aim to support a growing network of performance-makers in the region, and create an informal space for both exercising our performance skills, and sharing and testing ideas."
Then I will engage with the next generation of young directors as part of the festival "Körber Studio Junge Regie", which showcases final year productions from the major drama schools / conservatories in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Netherlands and Denmark.
Exeter Performers' Playground is "a new initiative in Exeter, aiming to provide workshop and training opportunities for Devon-based performance makers. We run regular sessions for skills sharing, experimenting and play, and explore a variety of performance techniques. We aim to support a growing network of performance-makers in the region, and create an informal space for both exercising our performance skills, and sharing and testing ideas."
Then I will engage with the next generation of young directors as part of the festival "Körber Studio Junge Regie", which showcases final year productions from the major drama schools / conservatories in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Netherlands and Denmark.
See also: http://exeter.academia.edu/Roesner/Talks#d72592
I will comment on how it all went, soon!
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
Two New Books
In the recent two years I have kept quite busy with two editing projects, which have now both been published, which I am very excited about. While they are clearly distinct from each other and from the monograph I am currently writing, there are of course overlaps and possible dialogues between all three.
On a pragmatic level these (temporal) overlaps – finishing two books simultaneously, while trying to start a third – have sometimes been tiring. Different layouts and referencing rules had to applied and kept separate and deadlines happened to coincide more and more.
But in the end for me the resonances between the different projects have been quite stimulating and I hope that they find an interested and critical readership.
The first book,
Theatre Noise: The Sound of Performance, edited by Lynne Kendrick and David Roesner (Newcastle 2011) came out at the end of last year and started from a conference at Central School of Speech and Drama in April 2009 conceived by Ross Brown. Lynne Kendrick (also from CSSD) and I then were entrusted with developing a book concept on the basis of this new term, theatre noise, and collected and commissioned eighteen chapters for the now finished volume. This is what it says on the cover:
This book is a timely contribution to the emerging field of the aurality of theatre and looks in particular at the interrogation and problematisation of theatre sound(s). Both approaches are represented in the idea of ‘noise’ which we understand both as a concrete sonic entity and a metaphor or theoretical (sometimes even ideological) thrust. Theatre provides a unique habitat for noise. It is a place where friction can be thematised, explored playfully, even indulged in: friction between signal and receiver, between sound and meaning, between eye and ear, between silence and utterance, between hearing and listening. In an aesthetic world dominated by aesthetic redundancy and ‘aerodynamic’ signs, theatre noise recalls the aesthetic and political power of the grain of performance.
‘Theatre noise’ is a new term which captures a contemporary, agitatory acoustic aesthetic. It expresses the innate theatricality of sound design and performance, articulates the reach of auditory spaces, the art of vocality, the complexity of acts of audience, the political in produced noises. Indeed, one of the key contentions of this book is that noise, in most cases, is to be understood as a plural, as a composite of different noises, as layers or waves of noises. Facing a plethora of possible noises in performance and theatre we sought to collocate a wide range of notions of and approaches to ‘noise’ in this book – by no means an exhaustive list of possible readings and understandings, but a starting point from which scholarship, like sound, could travel in many directions.
And Nicholas Till, Professor of Opera and Music Theatre at Sussex University, very kindly commented: “‘Are we currently discovering sound?’ asks Patrice Pavis in the Preface to this book. And reading the essays in the book is indeed to make a voyage of discovery into aspects of theatrical experience and practice hitherto unaccountably muffled from our attention. The whole book offers rich proof of the rewards of the ‘acoustic turn’ in contemporary theory.”
___________________________
The second book came out of an AHRC network project, conducted by Matthias Rebstock, Professor for 'scenic music' at the University of Hildesheim, Germany, and me. It is an attempt to map a field we called 'Composed Theatre' by looking at it historically, analytically, as discourse and as a creative process, involving composers, directors, and scholars. The book combines, unites and confronts those different voices:
Composed Theatre. Aesthetics, Practices, Processes, edited by Matthias Rebstock und David Roesner (Bristol 2012). This book gives extensive coverage of a growing field of theatre, which is characterized by applying musical and compositional approaches to the creation of theatrical performances. The contributions to this book seek to establish and closely investigate this field, ranging from focused reports by seminal artists and in-depth portraits of their working methods to academic essays contextualizing the aesthetics, practices and processes in questions.
This book looks at Composed Theatre in a unique way by focusing on the creative process, as it is not primarily the aesthetics or the audiences that characterize the field, but the compositional thinking at play in its creation. Since Composed Theatre is often highly self-reflexive, the authors also explore how it is calling into question fundamental certainties about musical composition, dramaturgy and music-theatrical production.
Comments on either book are welcome!
On a pragmatic level these (temporal) overlaps – finishing two books simultaneously, while trying to start a third – have sometimes been tiring. Different layouts and referencing rules had to applied and kept separate and deadlines happened to coincide more and more.
But in the end for me the resonances between the different projects have been quite stimulating and I hope that they find an interested and critical readership.
The first book,
Theatre Noise: The Sound of Performance, edited by Lynne Kendrick and David Roesner (Newcastle 2011) came out at the end of last year and started from a conference at Central School of Speech and Drama in April 2009 conceived by Ross Brown. Lynne Kendrick (also from CSSD) and I then were entrusted with developing a book concept on the basis of this new term, theatre noise, and collected and commissioned eighteen chapters for the now finished volume. This is what it says on the cover:
This book is a timely contribution to the emerging field of the aurality of theatre and looks in particular at the interrogation and problematisation of theatre sound(s). Both approaches are represented in the idea of ‘noise’ which we understand both as a concrete sonic entity and a metaphor or theoretical (sometimes even ideological) thrust. Theatre provides a unique habitat for noise. It is a place where friction can be thematised, explored playfully, even indulged in: friction between signal and receiver, between sound and meaning, between eye and ear, between silence and utterance, between hearing and listening. In an aesthetic world dominated by aesthetic redundancy and ‘aerodynamic’ signs, theatre noise recalls the aesthetic and political power of the grain of performance.
‘Theatre noise’ is a new term which captures a contemporary, agitatory acoustic aesthetic. It expresses the innate theatricality of sound design and performance, articulates the reach of auditory spaces, the art of vocality, the complexity of acts of audience, the political in produced noises. Indeed, one of the key contentions of this book is that noise, in most cases, is to be understood as a plural, as a composite of different noises, as layers or waves of noises. Facing a plethora of possible noises in performance and theatre we sought to collocate a wide range of notions of and approaches to ‘noise’ in this book – by no means an exhaustive list of possible readings and understandings, but a starting point from which scholarship, like sound, could travel in many directions.
And Nicholas Till, Professor of Opera and Music Theatre at Sussex University, very kindly commented: “‘Are we currently discovering sound?’ asks Patrice Pavis in the Preface to this book. And reading the essays in the book is indeed to make a voyage of discovery into aspects of theatrical experience and practice hitherto unaccountably muffled from our attention. The whole book offers rich proof of the rewards of the ‘acoustic turn’ in contemporary theory.”
___________________________
The second book came out of an AHRC network project, conducted by Matthias Rebstock, Professor for 'scenic music' at the University of Hildesheim, Germany, and me. It is an attempt to map a field we called 'Composed Theatre' by looking at it historically, analytically, as discourse and as a creative process, involving composers, directors, and scholars. The book combines, unites and confronts those different voices:
Composed Theatre. Aesthetics, Practices, Processes, edited by Matthias Rebstock und David Roesner (Bristol 2012). This book gives extensive coverage of a growing field of theatre, which is characterized by applying musical and compositional approaches to the creation of theatrical performances. The contributions to this book seek to establish and closely investigate this field, ranging from focused reports by seminal artists and in-depth portraits of their working methods to academic essays contextualizing the aesthetics, practices and processes in questions.
This book looks at Composed Theatre in a unique way by focusing on the creative process, as it is not primarily the aesthetics or the audiences that characterize the field, but the compositional thinking at play in its creation. Since Composed Theatre is often highly self-reflexive, the authors also explore how it is calling into question fundamental certainties about musical composition, dramaturgy and music-theatrical production.
Comments on either book are welcome!
Monday, 7 November 2011
Quote of the day
Meyerhold's view on directing is very much at the core of what I seek to explore in my book, it seems:
"If you asked me today where the difficulty lies in the art of the director, I would say: 'It lies in the fact that he needs to contain the in-containable'. The challenge of the art of directing is that the director needs to be a musician most of all. He in particular has to deal with on of the most difficult aspects of the art of music, he develops the scenic movements always contrapuntally. That is a very difficult matter. […] If you'd ask me: 'Which core course in a faculty of a future theatre-university, which core course should form part of its curriculum?' – I would say: 'Naturally music'. If a director isn't a musician, then he isn't capable of developing a real production. Because a real production (I don't mean the opera, the theatre of the music-drama and the musical comedy –, I even mean such dramatic theatre, where the whole performance proceeds without any musical accompaniment) can only be devised by a musician as a director."
"If you asked me today where the difficulty lies in the art of the director, I would say: 'It lies in the fact that he needs to contain the in-containable'. The challenge of the art of directing is that the director needs to be a musician most of all. He in particular has to deal with on of the most difficult aspects of the art of music, he develops the scenic movements always contrapuntally. That is a very difficult matter. […] If you'd ask me: 'Which core course in a faculty of a future theatre-university, which core course should form part of its curriculum?' – I would say: 'Naturally music'. If a director isn't a musician, then he isn't capable of developing a real production. Because a real production (I don't mean the opera, the theatre of the music-drama and the musical comedy –, I even mean such dramatic theatre, where the whole performance proceeds without any musical accompaniment) can only be devised by a musician as a director."
Workshop in Norway
I have just returned from giving a workshop for Master students at the Universitetet i Agder: Institutt for
visuelle og sceniske fag within a module
on Interdisciplinarity. Through theoretical debate and practical exercises we
explored a range of interplays between music, performance, and visual
art, taking inspiration from practitioners ranging from Adolphe Appia,
Vassily Kandinsky, John Cage to Heiner Goebbels, Carola Bauckholt or
Robert Wilson.
It was particularly interesting to work with students whose background was largely not in theatre, not music (with a few exceptions), but in visual art and photography. This allowed us to question and compare notions of "composition", "rhythm" or "score" between different art forms and attempt translations and transformations between the disciplines. Almost as a by-product, we also stumbled upon questions of acting and not-acting and the theatricality of executing musical instructions in a theatrical environment.
One notion that we kept returning to was that of the 'frame' within which we place an artistic practice and how influential this frame (as a mindset, a training background, an institutional set of parameters, or as a predisposition of the spectator/audience) is for how we 'read' interdisciplinary art.
It was particularly interesting to work with students whose background was largely not in theatre, not music (with a few exceptions), but in visual art and photography. This allowed us to question and compare notions of "composition", "rhythm" or "score" between different art forms and attempt translations and transformations between the disciplines. Almost as a by-product, we also stumbled upon questions of acting and not-acting and the theatricality of executing musical instructions in a theatrical environment.
One notion that we kept returning to was that of the 'frame' within which we place an artistic practice and how influential this frame (as a mindset, a training background, an institutional set of parameters, or as a predisposition of the spectator/audience) is for how we 'read' interdisciplinary art.
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