The Problems of Dramaturgy (part one of a series that will never end)

I study dramaturgy. I am not a dramaturg. There is a deep suspicion of both words, at least in the UK. Back in the 1960s, when King Critic Kenneth 'Bondage' Tynan wanted to be the dramaturg for the fledgling National Theatre, he was forced to change his title to Literary Manager, since dramaturg sounded 'a bit too German'. Racial prejudice aside, the study of dramaturgy can be complicated by the attitude of both its supporters and detractors.

One problem is that the job of the dramaturg and the process of dramaturgy are frequently conflated. Even Routledge's Big Book of Dramaturgy concentrates mainly on specific functions of dramaturgs. Since dramaturgs are frequently treated as an optional extra by Scottish theatre - David Leddy and Dominic Hill, two of Scotland's most dynamic directors tend not to use one - and their role is dictated not by a consistent definition but the needs of a particular production, tying together the process with the job marginalises the visible presence of dramaturgy. 

The decision not to use a dramaturg is - ho ho ho - a dramaturgical one. This brings me nicely to the second problem.

Dramaturgy struggles to maintain a popular definition. While it does have many different interpretations, the diversity of its practice ensures that these obscure a clear and concise description. The use of dramaturgy within a sociological context - inspired by Goffman - opened up a dialogue with anthropology and relocated its field from the stage and into everyday life. With its boundaries rendered porous, a tight, theatre-focused definition would exclude its contemporary areas of concern.

As irritating as dictionary definitions can be, they do pull dramaturgy away from its competing functions towards a functional foundation for its use. The emphasis on its wide range of applications, and the roles of individual dramaturges drags into into a vague word that can be used to describe anything that is vaguely a 'performance'.

En Attendant Morrison: The role of the author after the death of God: Abstract

In his episode analysis of faith in the twentieth century, Believe Everything, Luther Blissett identifies three strands of atheist thought. The 'responsible' atheist - who attempts to recognise the challenges of religion's collapse - is contrasted with the 'irresponsible', who simply ignores the social consequences. A third category 'which overlaps both of these extremes' (pg 27) is the militant atheist. Blissett positions writers including Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins as militant atheists, due to their enthusiasm for describing the negative impact of religion on social and political behaviour.

In the final, fragmentary chapter, Where God Resides Yet, Blissett addresses the problems of creativity. Within literature, he argues, 'the artist still holds the status of God, converting natural signs into icons and symbols and insisting on a system that delivers meaning' (pg237). While the influence of religion within political and social systems has been eroded, the notion of a creator-God, Blissett concludes, is manifested in the novel and the theatrical performance. 

He does, however, suggest that Beckett's Waiting for Godot is an attempt to challenge the author's divine agency: replacing the omnipotent deity with a gnostic, hostile or absent God (pg 345). Unable to completely remove traces of his presence, Beckett draws attention to this failure by placing absence at the centre of the narrative.

Grant Morrison, however, takes this process a step further. In Animal Man, he presents himself as a fictional character within the narrative, effectively enabling the protagonist to address his 'God'. While Morrrison's work repeatedly returns to metafictional meditations - The Invisibles repeatedly merges Morrison's autobiography with the melodrama of the story - it is only in Animal Man that he presents a direct analogy between the artist and God.

Using Blissett's terminology, both Beckett and Morrison are 'responsible', attempting to reconcile the absence of God and the demands of artistic creativity.

Dramaturgy Does Not Determine Destiny

Wherever dramaturgy is conceived as a practice of thought in advance of the event, it will be collapsed into a form of authorship and covert power; the dramaturg will become another name for ‘author,’ ‘director,’ or ‘choreographer.’ Dramaturgy does not belong to a subject or to a resolved temporality. Dramaturgy, if it is anything, is a practice that enables us to shake off intentional fallacies and disrupt economies founded on notions of individualism.

Gee, thanks, Adrian Heathfield. Way to start an article that attempts to reclaim dramaturgy from the dramaturg: I always believe that the best way to introduce an idea is to mystify its meaning with cod-academic verbiage. 

For the record, Heathfield's conclusion follows my own instincts: dramaturgy has moved beyond the theatrical event, and informs (and is informed by) sociology, and does not belong exclusively to the dramaturg. However, the arrogance of Heathfield's tone - the essay contains a series of dogmatic assertions - and the use of ideologically driven terminology may help to explain why dramaturgy has become a toxic idea. 

Let's take that definition again.

Dramaturgy, if it is anything, is a practice that enables us to shake off intentional fallacies and disrupt economies founded on notions of individualism.

'If it is anything'. 'If it is anything'. It serves only to attack individualism, does it? Heathfield offers nothing so simple as a definition of this practice: instead, dramaturgy is an instrument, a weapon against 'intentional fallacies', a phrase I am going to look up online.

 Where do I begin? If the author is serious about deconstructing the notion of authorial intent, maybe not having their name above the essay might help. Okay, yes, it's a provocation, and leaving the argument loose helps the debate, but... but... reducing dramaturgy to a tool for a political agenda ignores so much research, so many potential uses.

Back to the language: if dramaturgy can liberate the spectator from the tyranny of the artist - that is, to become the co-author of meaning, and have confidence in asserting their own interpretation - hedging it inside a bunch of fancy terms won't help. Coherent explanation, the relationship of theory to the specific event... why hide? 

so bored part 8976

I am tired of reading about the Enlightenment. In recent years, it has been accused of being racist, championed as the foundation of contemporary western civilisation and become the pivot around which discussions of identity rotate. Ever since Adorno threw his toys out of the pram (The Dialectic of Enlightenment, 1944), it's become, like, this symbol or something. And now I am researching it, because it's the era which gave birth to dramaturgy. 

As much fun as it might be to be researching something that is right at the centre of contemporary controversy, it just depresses me. Reducing a period of dynamic philosophical argument into a slogan is hardly expanding human knowledge, and poking at the past for its sins strikes me... oh... as exactly the kind of thing that Enlightenment philosophers might do. So, yeah, there is a point to both sides. 

Fictional Matters

Fictional Matters
2 – 4 Dec | CCA Glasgow

The first edition of Fictional Matters, curated by choreographer Colette Sadler, brings together both Scottish and International artists working within and across film, music performance and visual arts. 

Reflecting on Sadler's on-going artistic research, this event opens up a field of enquiry around the perception of the inanimate and its fictional potentialities through mediation and transformation. It seeks to create a platform for exchange and discussion on the expanded notion of choreography and performance with and beyond bodies.

The weekend will include work from and by Miranda Pennell, Daria Martin, Adam Linder, Ela Orleans, Glasgow School of Art and dance artist members of The Work Room Glasgow.

More about the event, and the programme, can be found here.