Thoughts on Dead Matter

John Bell, in Death and Performing Objects, suggests that "What makes performance with puppets.. and other objects different than the actor's work is a concentration, both in the creation and execution... on the materials of the inanimate world, the dead world of inert matter." Considering a range of performances, from a 1511 Florentine Carnival through to the plays of Polish icon Kantor, Bell argues that this consideration makes object manipulation a fundamentally spiritual practice.

The fashion for art that considers the afterlife has been the victim of the twenty-first century's movement towards the secular - the journey of Derren Brown, from youthful Christian to a determined materialist reflects something of the cultural shift away from religion towards science as the dominant influence on society. 

For all the justified complaints of atheists that religion still holds an undue respect, the combination of technological advances and popular science writing has encouraged artists to ponder scientific theory over theological intention. For example, after the war, choreographer Robert Helpmann updated the Christ story to a Glasgow of tenement and slum when he wanted to extend the range of ballet's contents. In contrast, Wayne MacGregor, when not making idiosyncratic videos for Radiohead, is inspired by his research fellowship in neuroscience. And Janis Claxton's study of primates has translated into a series of choreographies that take cues from the great ape's social organisation and behaviour.

Bell's argument follows a selective history of puppetry to identify a specific concern with the relationship between the human and the inanimate. Noting that many traditions feature puppets literally made from the dead, like the Indian tolubommalata that even specifies that the puppets must be made from the hide of an animal which died a natural death and was not killed for purpose, he evokes the words of Kleist and Edward Craig who appeared to want to replace the actor with the puppet. Connecting this to certain rituals - notably the Aztec priest wearing a suit of flayed skin - he presents a case for the puppet as a representation of death.

Although Bell conflates very diverse artists into a single narrative, his claims about the puppet as a reminder of the relationship between inanimate and living material is persuasive, and perhaps accounts for the uncanny impact of works like Schicklgruber, where Nigel Tranter operates life-size versions of Hitler and friends. As puppetry becomes less concerned with "hiding the strings" and the puppeteer is clearly visible,  the relationship between puppeteer and puppet echoes the broader relationship between man and matter.

Throughout Bell's essay, there is an unwillingness to address the spiritual concerns that the rituals considered - the Florentine Carnival was undoubtedly Christian - even if it has a few pagan elements, and the Aztec priest was not playing dress up in flesh for an exclusively secular end and the spirituality he considers is oddly materialist (the puppet becomes a reminder of mortality and the way of all flesh): Klein was interested in the marionette as a cypher for the human in tune with divine grace, even ironically, and Kantor wasn't shy about referencing either the seance or the mass. While he doesn't convince that a preoccupation with death is implicitly spiritual, he effectively offers a resonance to the puppet's presence.

Perhaps this resonance is what encouraged Egyptian priests or medieval churches to incorporate automata into their liturgies - certainly, it's an aspect of the puppet's aura and adds fire to Tranter's depiction of Hitler. His conclusion, which points to modern political demonstrations as part of this tradition, integrates both the otherworldly atmosphere of the puppet show with the contemporary enthusiasm for theatre as a potent, radical activism.