TPPP Final Draft

My name is Sabrina Sung, candidate number 000166-067, and I am an IB Higher Level Year 2 Theatre student attending Seoul Foreign School.

Beginning with the 1st image, this is a photo of a certain place in the world called the Salar de Uyuni, an enormous salt flat found in Bolivia. It has been nicknamed Heaven’s Mirror because when the rainy season comes, it also becomes the largest reflective surface found on earth. It becomes a world that reflects everything within it, that evolves and changes form as time goes by.

My journey into theatre was like stepping into this kind of world.

In the past, I used to be a very emotionally closed person. I was reluctant to make myself vulnerable, to expose myself. I was limited by the box of my comfort zone, closed off, which not only kept other people from understanding my thoughts and feelings, but also kept me from experiencing the world around me. However, throughout my time with IB Theatre, I have ventured into the shallow waters of the theatrical world, and become a more open and open-minded person.

My first step into this reflective world actually took place very early in my first year. This 2nd image is of me and my class participating in a physical theatre workshop led by Mark Hill, an expert from the Australian company Zen Zen Zo. This was one of my first experiences in IB Theatre that had a significant impact on me, as it introduced to me several ideas that would become the foundation of my theatrical knowledge.

The first concept he emphasized was the importance of energy on part of the performer. He introduced an adapted version of Jacques Lecoq’s “Seven Levels of Tension” which taught me the spectrum of energy a performer can transmit to the audience, from lethargic, to almost excessively exuberant. That was when I first wrapped my mind around the idea that the ‘stillness’ or ‘slowness’ of an actor’s movements does not equate a ‘lack of energy’, and this understanding was important  in order to move on to the Butoh aspect of the workshop.

In this part of the workshop, I had to contort my face and body in order to express images that developed in my mind. Because this was so early in my theatrical journey, at first, I met with difficulty. I was embarrassed and reluctant to try and physicalize my imagination, but like most things, it was the first step that was hardest. I truly realized then that ‘stillness’ does not mean a lack of energy at all. If anything, it was exhausting, putting so much focus and emphasis on one aspect of my body. At the same time, however, through that exhaustion, I felt a sense of freedom and a heightened sense of focus. There is a spiritual aspect to physical theatre that opened up new modes of expression in my mind, and I felt more in tune with my imagination afterwards.

This tied in nicely to another aspect of the workshop, when I was then introduced to the ideas of practitioner Anne Bogart and her theories in regards to the physicality of an actor, which enlightened me to the heightened state of awareness an actor must maintain in order to perform effectively. An actor must keep in mind the space, shape, time, emotion, and movement of their performance at all time, all in relation to the other members of an ensemble.

I had always thought of an actor as an individual person. If I did well with my role, that was all that mattered. However, this workshop allowed me to break out of that limited way of thinking and step further into a wider world. I realized that an actor’s role and attention should not be solely on their own performance, but that of the performers around them as well. There must be a mutual understanding of intent and support for a performance to be brought out to its fullest. Only after the members of an ensemble are aware of each other can they begin to be aware of other elements.

I also learned that Bogart’s teachings can be related to the philosophies of Tadashi Suzuki, in its value of aesthetics and making every moment of a performance dynamic and interesting for its audience. This is demonstrated in image 3.

The image depicts a scene from Tadashi Suzuki’s production of King Lear, which I had the privilege of seeing earlier this year at the Seoul Performing Arts Festival. It demonstrates the concept of spatial relationships in physical theatre very well. The actors are making use of asymmetrical levels to create an interesting moment for the audience, and though all three characters are stationary, they are not boring to see. Upon seeing them, I realized that as the workshop taught me, their level of tension and energy was high, and this was transmitted to the audience as ‘dynamic stillness’. The actors throughout the performance did not even blink, which made me realize that the amount of effort that went into staging and physicalizing this performance, even if it held many stationary moments – because it held many stationary moments, must have been extraordinary.

Furthermore, the actors in this image are in extreme proximity to each other, and in this scene the rest of the stage was empty, creating a large amount of negative space. This caused a striking effect and drew attention to the characters on the stage, and it made me think of the differences between western and oriental theatre.

Whereas traditional western theatre centered the body in the chest and sought to tell a story through their voice and words, Japanese theatre, sought spiritual energy from lower in the body, grounding their feet, and freeing the mind through motion. This lesser focus on the actual words of the play is reflected in this quote by Tadashi Suzuki himself, which reads, “If your productions are only talking to people with whom you share a common language and culture—that’s entertainment. But if the work is appreciated by those outside your language, culture, and values—that’s art.”

I realized then that the realm of theatre was one that reflected all of its inhabitants, the performers and the director. The values and the messages they want to share are reflected in the realm of theatre itself, and their every action creates ripples in the shallow waters, shaping that world through their own power.

Tadashi Suzuki wanted a production that transcended cultural boundaries, and his performers carried that same intent. Thus, though the actors on stage used a variety of languages, from Korean to Japanese to English throughout the performance, they were able to convey their emotions and tell the story of King Lear to a varied audience. I found that truly amazing.

Image 4 depicts a scene from Bertolt Brecht’s play, Mother Courage and Her Children. More specifically, it depicts a moment of gestus, or an embodiment of attitude, from the title character Mother Courage. Early on in my theatre journey, we had a practitioner project, and my role was to research and speak on Brechtian ideas and philosophies. This experience left its mark on my ideas on theatre, and helped me take a step further into the reflective, evolving world of theatre.

Brecht sought to make the audience think about what they saw, to analyze his plays objectively and find the meanings in the messages he conveyed. I was and still am intrigued as an aspiring scriptwriter, performer, and director that he achieves this effect not only through incorporating music and harsh lighting – staples of Brechtian theatre – but also by the structuring of his plays. Whenever there is a joyous occasion, the audience is quickly sobered by the next or parallel scene. Whenever someone is mourning, there is something to disrupt the immersion.

I realized then how callous reality could be. Although it feels unnatural to keep ourselves callous to the plights of characters on a stage, a little thought reveals that we go on in our lives with that same callousness in regards to real people. I was reminded of the last stanza of Carol Ann Duffy’s poem, “War Photographer”, which reads”

                 A hundred agonies in black-and-white
                        from which his editor will pick out five or six
                        for Sunday’s supplement. The reader’s eyeballs prick
                        with tears between bath and pre-lunch beers.
                        From aeroplane he stares impassively at where         
                        he earns a living and they do not care.

Although the juxtaposition of scenes that Brecht uses in his plays might seem unnatural on the stage, I realized that it is a depiction of some aspects of our society today.

For this reason, Brecht’s ideas of alienation and emotionally distancing the audience from the performance fascinated me even more, and in reading and watching Mother Courage, I was able to see the V-effect at play firsthand. By keeping the audience alert and aware of the happenings on stage, without the veil of emotional attachment, the actors were able to convey a clear message, the messages written with every word in Brecht’s own scripts.

The ‘silent scream’ from Brecht’s original production of Mother Courage is believed to have been inspired by a photograph of an Indian woman screaming with her head thrown back as she wept over the body of her dead son. This piece of information struck something in me, awakened me to the messages that theatre can carry.

In the past, I had been detached about the state of the world. In the box of my comfort zone, I had never actively looked at world issues and problems that arise in society. However, my study of Brechtian theatre forced me to step out of that box and further into the world of theatre, out into the open air and to look at the world around me.

As Brecht said, “Art is not a mirror held up to reality, but a hammer with which to shape it.” I realize now that this is true. And I assert that theatre has a power to it. The realm of theatre that I reference is not a reflection of reality, but a reflection of the intent of the people who inhabit it. Should the realm’s inhabitants strive for change, theatre will reflect that, and become a force for revolution. I came to see this in plays such as The Crucible by Arthur Miller with its depictions of McCarthyism written as the Salem Witch Trials, The Doll’s House by Henrik Ibsen with its social commentary on the role of a woman after marriage, Chimerica by Lucy Kirkwood with its discussion on media and the relationship between China and America…

And as you can see in Image 5, I came to see this kind of force for change in The Good Soul of Szechuan as well, another play by Bertolt Brecht. This picture depicts me in my role as one of the three gods in the play under a purple followspot from a part of a lighting plan which I helped to design. This was a student-led production in which I played roles as a dramaturgist, a lighting designer, and an actress, and it was a great catalyst for growth in my theatrical journey. I developed a newfound appreciation for the production elements of a performance, which are often neglected in recognition. After all, I realized that without the efforts of lighting designers, set designers, and all those overlooked portions of staging a performance, the performance could not succeed.

Firstly, I learned about dramaturgy – it was, in fact, my first time hearing of such a profession. I had known innately, back in my mind that someone must have done the background research for a play, but I had never thought of it as a profession for a person. For this play, I had to research extensively on the effects of capitalism on the Chinese economy and people as well as the history of China during the time period in which Brecht wrote this play.

This, to me, served as a strong reminder that a play reflects the ideas of the time period in which it was written, yet it also ironically served as a wake-up call to the present and future. As dramaturgist, I also had to tackle researching the current state of China, examining the effects of the industrial revolution, and in doing so I developed an awareness of current events in the world around me. There was a surplus of stories in the world around me that went untold, unheard…  Being a dramaturgist forced me to step out of the comfort zone of my ignorance and venture out into the world.

My research was then used as the foundation on which to build the other production elements and the performance itself, and that is how the realm of theatre reflected my personal contributions.

It was through lighting design, however, that I came to realize that back when Mark Hill spoke of the ensemble, he did not just mean performers on the stage. The production crew and all its elements are a part of that ensemble as well. The other lighting designers and I experienced this firsthand when we were forced to revise our initial draft of the lighting scheme. In our inexperience, we hadn’t realized that the angle of our ellipsoidal lights would not allow a clear spotlight on the actors because it caught upon a piece of the set or that colors of our fernels clashed with the costumes, making the actors look garish. I learned then the true importance of communication in a play, not just amongst the actors, but amongst all the various contributors of elements to the play.

This production was also a new experience to me as an actor, especially since I played the role as a god. The funny thing about The Good Soul of Szechuan is that although the gods were supposedly divine beings that were meant to lead the main character, Shen Te, to happiness… they were powerless, practically human in their actions. Furthermore, there were always three of them, as if ‘the gods’ referred to one sole entity. This was a new challenge for me to physicalize.

Throughout the play, I had to demonstrate varying levels of exhaustion, and I did so by drawing on what I learned of ‘dynamic stillness’ in the workshop with Mark Hill. However, I also had to maintain a high level of awareness of the two other gods in my company. I could not drift too far from them lest I disturb the image of ‘the three gods’ as a single entity, and I also had to be wary not to block the audience’s view of my fellow actors. Ultimately it was a challenge through which I realized that establishing trust between me and my fellow actors is essential in order to allow myself to sense their presence and ease myself into the role.

In terms of blocking, my class and I experimented with spatial relations, using extreme distance to represent the gods’ relationship to the other characters of the play. Throughout the play, they were often found on the catwalk of our blackbox theatre, observing the humans from afar, a safe distance, and watching hardships unfold one by one, yet they extend no true helping hand.

Ultimately, this production allowed me to take a few more steps into the realm of theatre, as both a part of the production team as well as a performer, and I realized that theatre and the end result of a performance reflects all of its inhabitants, including the productions staff and assistants that the audience might not see.

Image 6 then depicts Arlechinno, a stock character from Commedia dell’ Arte. My study of this form of theatre was when I first latched onto the idea of theatre, evolution, and time. As I studied the physical eccentricities of each character as well as their personalities, I noticed parallels between characters from Commedia – the pretentiously lovesick innamorati, the exaggerated and boastful el capitano, and the lovable and mischievous Arlechinno – in existing archetypes of modern day.

This demonstrates that there is a timeless element to theatre, and thinking on it, I realized that this is because, although ideologies may change over time, theatre is ultimately about humans, and there is an intrinsic quality to human nature that withstands the test of time. After all, reflected in each of the masks of Commedia dell’Arte, is a shard of truth about human relationships.

However, while there is a timeless element, there is also a changing element as well. Image 7, which depicts a scene from the Pilobolus Dance Theatre’s famed show, Shadowland. When I first heard of it, I was immediately enthralled by the use of shadows in theatre. It had been done before, of course, with Balinese and Chinese shadow puppetry, but I had yet to hear of a performance in which the shadows of the actors are used to tell a fantastical and surrealistic story.

This is a new concept built upon old ideas, and thus demonstrates how theatre evolves with time. Even dance, just a few decades ago, was not viewed as a legitimate form of theatrical performance. However, now through the evolution of artistic values as well as technology, productions such as Shadowland become possible.

Thus, although many people disagree, I view technology and hybridization in post-modernism to be a way to shape theatre. It opens up more options and allows people more modes of expression than before. I believe that change in theatre is inevitable because people themselves are not static… but I welcome and embrace that change, and look forward to seeing what happens in the future.

And Image 8 is where it all comes together. This photo depicts me acting in my role as Lady Capulet in my school’s modernized production of Romeo & Juliet, and this production was when I was able to take all that I’ve learned and apply it to my role.

It also helped me fully understand what I learned about theatre itself. To begin with, being able to modernize the production proves that the themes in Shakespeare’s play can be readapted to the times because it holds a universal element, a story that can be told even when times have changed. And in changing the setting of the story, through this production, we were able to, as Brecht said, have our performance be at least a small hammer with which to shape our reality, tackling the rising suicide rates of Korea through the message of our play.

This is something I couldn’t have done without venturing deeper into the theatrical world.

This modernization of Romeo & Juliet also presented an additional challenge to me as an actress: I had the challenge of adapting my role of Lady Capulet from one of Elizabethan aristocracy to a more modern, Korean mother. This meant that I had to delve into myself and search through my roots as a Korean in order to develop my character, and I had to be willing to expose that inherent portion of my culture on stage for the audience. I was willing, and this, to me, was evidence of my growth.

I find it ironic that I had to open up so much in order to play such an emotionally closed and rigid character. I was told by the director to perform as if I had a rod down my back, which I attempted to physicalize through the stiffness of my posture or the stillness of my movements. However, I had to be very in tune with my emotions in order to give a human element to Lady Capulet, and I paid attention to finer details, such as not touching Juliet as a mother would – not stroking her cheek or her hair – until I thought her dead.

I kept the lessons of Anne Bogart and Tadashi Suzuki close at hand – for example, in this image, the scene of Tybalt’s death, I stand tall while other characters crouch, with Tybalt’s body lying flat on the ground. This clear depiction of levels between different characters draws from Suzuki’s values in making every moment on the stage aesthetically interesting to the audience.

o   One of my most notable moments was in the scene in which Juliet declares that she will not marry Paris, and I say, “Here comes your father, tell him so yourself,” and after that line I stood in counterpoint to the rest of the stage.

o   The importance of spatial relationship and physicality truly sank in at this stage

I believe that this production was the first time I could truly say that I was standing in the world of theatre. It was reflecting me, my ambitions, my values, my efforts, and those of everyone around me as well. Every action create ripples in this world, stimulates evolution, slowly but surely changing the realm of theatre, and when after everything, a performance begins, that world then expands to include the audience, who are drawn into the newly created world, and then their reactions – their laughter and their thoughts – are reflected in this world as well.

This was my journey of growth and walking into this theatrical realm, and I look forward to how much further I can explore this world in the future.