Scenography and Prague

Aside from those times when I noticed Kai Fisher or Kenny Miller on the programme – or when the set overshadowed the actors and script, like in the National Theatre of Scotland’s Peter Pan – I have rarely paid attention to the art of scenography. Being in Prague, and stumbling across their Quadrennial of Design and Space, I confess my ignorance. Like a good script, coherent choreography, stunning central performances, costume, set and staging are a crucial part of a “good production.” The joy of PQ12 reminded me that theatre need not be all about the people present.

Since PQ is in its twelfth edition – and it has taken almost half a century to reach it – it is one of the more comprehensive performance jamborees that make up the progress of administrative personnel around the globe. Despite discovering it by accident, and being the only Scottish critic  in the Czech Republic that week, once I got my laminated pass, I was greeted by other delegates as an old friend. Much as I enjoyed the ego-massage, it didn’t remove my suspicion of the sort of people who turn up at these events. Obviously well travelled, they all held posts that sounded like euphemisms for “no creative input.” I didn’t meet any of the directors, or actors, or dancers or visual  artists that are supposed to be learning from these events, except on the stalls.

Cynicism aside, PQ12 is massive and brilliant. Nearly every country I have ever heard of was represented – who would have thought Uruguay had a thriving, imaginative theatre? – and the only disappointment was the UK stall. Understaffed, and featuring only one Scottish entry, it did, at least, feature some work I had seen: the wonderful, immersive set for Kursch, which got the audience right under the waves and into the submarine. And while Scottish Dance Theatre’s contribution was cool, I did reflect that Glasgow has always had a strong tradition of director-scenographers. Stewart Laing, who has rescued a few weak scripts through his knowledge of Tramway’s spatial potential, and Kenny Miller, formerly of the Citizens and now freelance, are the first two examples I remember. For PQ13, I hope that the Independent Republic of Caledonia’s President For Life will lobby for a Scottish section.

Scenography, according to the brochure, is a rapidly expanding area. Divided into costumes and sets, it wanders off into areas of film, site response, visual art, exhibition. Reflecting this, PQ12 had intermittent performances, an outdoor village of installations and a relaxed attitude to definition. Consequently, the different countries played to their strengths. Mexico and the States packed their areas with designs, videos and props, like relics of the performances now rendered symbolic. The Czech Republic went for a mini-exhibition. Japan let its scenographers write their own eccentric show. Israel loaded the room with boxes of condoms.

Wandering around the displays was enough, and I became convinced that most plays would do better if they dropped all that acting, singing and dancing nonsense and concentrated on the cool stuff – evoking place through carpentry. I’ve been toying with the idea of the stage as a sacred space, and here was evidence of a spiritual materialism to fill that holy rectangle.