Comments on: “Live” performance: the search for imperfection

By: Kallee Lins

Kallee Lins — Fri, 03 May 2013 18:05:53 +0000

Wonderful post, Jacob.
I think the ‘liveness’ issue is perhaps more important than ever with ticket sales slumping across the theatre community. The question of what makes theatre unique and worthy of dragging people into a communal space when they can just log into Netflix is an important one. I have two thoughts:
1) I fall more toward the Peggy Phelan side of the Phelan-Auslander liveness debate. For her, performance is an ontology of disappearance. Performance happens in moments that are already disappeared, and can only exist under the necessity of vanishing. I think this is what you get at with the notion of vulnerability. Those moments of vulnerability and the unexpected is where the heart of ‘live’ performance lies… because you can never get those moments back or recreate them.
2) Even for performances that truly embrace vulnerability, I think there’s a long way to go for audiences to expect, and desire that sort of performance. Theatre has become safe, and that safety and predictability (I think) is what has driven people to film instead. Both have come to offer the same, polished, product. North America, and especially Canada, does a terrible job of educating the public about performances, and doing audience outreach. It theatre-makers want to make interesting, spontaneous, vulnerable performances, they need to bring their audience into the process. They need to be open about what the artistic process is, and offer up a chance to be a part of that process as it happens onstage. That’s one thing film can’t offer. Process.

By: Kelli Fox

Kelli Fox — Wed, 01 May 2013 19:35:57 +0000

I loved this thread and the questions that sparked it. I agree with Jacob, that there is some writing that requires a craft and I don’t think the necessary repetition and careful shaping to do that work necessarily erases risk. One of my favourite working memories, both in the rehearsal hall and in performance, was learning an extremely fast and funny run of text in an Adam Pettle play and then playing it with Randy Hughson, right to the edge of impossible every night. If you got the right balance, we were all left breathless; the audience from laughter, us from our sprint. But it was easy to get it wrong. That was the risk we took every night and it was thrilling. I think it was like Michael’s lighter falling through the air every night. Both Michael and the audience knew every time that there was a chance he wasn’t going to catch that. They were probably just as happy with either outcome (the audience anyway, I don’t know about Michael), but either way no one was cheated of the moment of risk and the vulnerability to failure.

That said, I also agree with the fundamental proposition. “Live” in performance means much more than simply “not recorded”.

By: Christine Brubaker

Christine Brubaker — Wed, 01 May 2013 18:43:16 +0000

I really like your thoughts Jacob. I think this invitation of vulnerability/risk is something that the performance/art world can teach us much about – where narrative structure does not seem to have such a firm hold – where the presence of the audience is necessary for the work to occur. That said, I’m also intrigued (and irritated) these days with how mediated even the live can be. We control/ mediate with rehearsal, production values, the architecture of a theatre, the ticket price.

Perhaps because I am a theatre artist primarily and am only just starting to dive into camera work, I am in awe of how the camera can invite breathtaking vulnerability – and even though it lives in a reproduced state, it can continue to feel ‘Live’ – and, in fact, WAS so very live – just not right now. There is an unconsciousness that can be captured and I think that is why so many people feel so uncomfortable in front of the camera. Walter Benjamin (can’t remember the name of the article right now) talks about how a performer can feel dehumanized in front of the camera, and yet, sometimes I think it’s the most startling revelation of humanity. Only that moment exists.

But as an audience, is the absence of the discourse that leaves us feeling alone or isolated? Or intimate? Can this dialogue continue with the artists who participated – those who made the film, those who were in it? The world of social media seems to blast this right open for us.

By: Jacob Zimmer

Jacob Zimmer — Wed, 01 May 2013 16:52:35 +0000

Thanks for this – nice to think about the thing we actually do.
I’ve been thinking about holding things loosely a lot- it’s a phrase the came out of I keep dropping sh#t — a solution to the, “Do we drop on purpose?” or “Do we learn never to drop?” — but it’s grown in meaning.

It’s about this liveness and vulnerability but it’s also about doing basically the same thing every night. Maybe I’m in a phase of liking stories or clear structures and more comedy. And comedy needs a kind of craft, it requires repetition and intention. But for the craft to be held loosely — to let in and accept the inevitable imperfection.
There is also a difference between training, rehearsal room and the stage. Though I’m looking for my ideal blend in those too.

By: Vikki

Vikki — Wed, 01 May 2013 13:21:45 +0000

Great article.
Vulnerability inspires empathy. And empathy is the greatest tool, for me, for discovering authenticity in the rehearsal hall and onstage.
Thanks for the meaningful thoughts.

By: Brendan

Brendan — Wed, 01 May 2013 13:03:29 +0000

I really love this post and I, too, particularly respond to its plea for vulnerability in performance. I have really struggled with notions of “authenticity” in performance – and in life, for that matter. I have no idea what my “authentic” self is and I always found that concept to be very deadening creatively. I don’t know if I have ever felt “authentic”. But I do understand the feeling of vulnerability. I think that this quality vulnerability in performance can come from countless approaches but certainly allowing space for failure, embarrassment and personal disclosure inside a process and a performance is key to creating immediacy and intimacy. Thank you Jacob for this reminder.

By: Michael Wheeler

Michael Wheeler — Wed, 01 May 2013 11:51:26 +0000

I appreciated many aspects of this post.

In particular, that the content of the writing contains the same vulnerability that it is arguing for. This is very hard to do.

Thinking about what makes a performance ‘live’, made me flash to the last time I acted in a Praxis show (Stranger). There was a scene early in the play where James Murray, who was playing Mersault, threw me a zippo from the balcony of Theatre Centre to where I was on the stage below. It was a hard catch, especially looking up into theatre lighting, and I didn’t help my cause by attempting (most of the time) an overhand snatch.

I think I was 16/18 overall during the run, which I felt pretty good about. What I liked about it was that it forced me, right from the get go, to be alive (‘live”) and live in the moment of that show everyday specifically. I remember thinking that if it was a movie, we would just film the moment over and over until I had the perfect catch, and then this perfect catch would live in perpetuity.

Because our show was “live”, this was never assured. Most audiences saw me make the catch, some didn’t. What would happen in that moment could not be assured. Hopefully moments like that add to the relevance and appeal of a live event. I know they did for me as a performer. I think they did for the audience, although it is hard to say for sure, as no one outside of the production ever mentioned the lighter catch to me…