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| Peter Brook on Shakespeare and
the theatrical event: ... Every theatre event is a process. And by that I mean that something happens which is not the same in the middle as at the beginning, and not the same at the end as the middle. And when the event is right, in other words, when the words are properly conceived by the author, when the acting is properly conceived and implemented by the actors, there is a change of temperature. That, whatever the audience, it is hoisted to a higher level of understanding than it is normally capable of. But a good Shakespeare performance will take people, who most likely will say, "oh, I never even thought Shakespeare could interest me," and because they're seeing a good performance, which is rare, and not a dull, academic performance, they, despite themselves, are led to be interested in questions, experience feelings that are above their normal level of quality of experience. And that's what the theatre is for. Theatre and Church: ... the great difference is that the church spiritual experience is meant to take hold of the person and last longer than the theatre experience. So the difference is that both aim toward the same goal, but the theatre is like, in show business terms, like the trailer for a great movie. The theatre experience can lift you to a spiritual height for two minutes, and then that's taken away and you leave the theatre and you've gotten it. Then you realize that there is something called a spiritual way that, in a much more painful and much harder and much slower process, can lead you there on a more permanent basis. And that's where the two are intertwined. On Dancers: Once the great dancers were so completely free of the difficult forms that they could use them to express deep human truths. It's the same in Europe in Western classical ballet. The very rare great dancer goes beyond the form, and the form then is a support, and something very simple can come through. I've seen an Indian dancer, a great dancer, doing very artificial movements, but what came through was a mother calling to her child. Her child was the little god Krishna, and all that one saw, all that one could be touched by, was the pure quality of the feeling of Krishna's mother. One wasn't seeing the complicated form. In the same way, I've seen a great European ballet dancer playing Giselle, and all one sees is the true feeling of madness in this character. But this is very very rare. In India it is more and more rare, and in all the classical schools it is recognized that today all the pupils end at the level of virtuosity. They've reached the point where they can do and show the difficult movement, and that's where the question comes, who cares? You only care if the person wishes to use this like a line of Shakespeare, to lead to something far beyond. The Actor Paradox: ... the great mystery, the great paradox of theatre. If you have a bad actor, he disappears entirely. ... A bad actor is swamped by his role and so he doesn't really know what he's doing... He has become his role. But he has become like a racing car where the driver turns into the car so there is no longer anyone driving it. ... However, the greater the artist, the truer the actor, what happens is that his personality gives way to his individuality. In other words, the personality - which is a lot of external habits and mannerisms which we all recognize one another by, which we live by - yield to the role. But within the role - and the image I've used is like a hand within the glove - the true individual is totally conscious and filling the space, so he doesn't disappear. One can almost say that he appears, the more completely he has surrendered to the role. And that is why a true artist reaches this paradox: every fiber of him is invested with the role, and yet within in it, there is a space of complete freedom in which he is fully in control. The Art of Acting -- Two Levels: ... One of the exercises I like to do with actors is to ask them to hold up their hand and clench their fist very, very tightly. And then I say to them, "supposing that we take a photograph of that clenched fist, can there be any difference between your fist genuinely clenched because you are angry, or now clenched tightly as possible because I've asked you to clench it?" And of course you can see that there can be no difference, not only externally, but even internally. A clenched fist is a clenched fist. Exactly the same way, the actor should so totally invest his role that whatever angle you put your microscope on, you shouldn't be able to detect two levels. ... Because in the case of the cultivated Western actor, you can actually see that the man is performing. ... Which is why a lot of Western acting is busy and demands a lot of superficial activity, which signals to the audience that the actor is working hard. And that is an essential mode of virtuosity among Western actors. ... Now you can choose between the two forms of theatre art, and I personally believe that the art which vanishes completely is superior to the art of virtuosity, where you're conscious of the skill of the performer. The Audience: I think that this is the only fundamental function that the theatre can have, One has to accept that fragmentation and conflict are part of the human lot. And one also recognizes that the aspiration to go beyond that is also a part of the human psyche. And so this healing process of the fragmented social body - which has to exist - can only be brought about by moments of reminder, and that's what the word "communion" really means. That you don't try to reform the world, you don't try to establish a paradise now. You only attempt to remind yourself and others that a communion is a highly desirable possibility for mankind. And this is the meaning of public performance. And this is why earlier on I said the theatre is a process. Comparable to cooking. It's not just a hot bath that the audience gives; it is a heating process by which the collective temperature rises, and like all temperature that rises, it goes through changes of state. The state changes only at certain points. So at one moment it will be like water, the same substance, and then suddenly it'll reach a point when it turns into steam. Now in the same way, a theatre performance will get more and more vibrant, and then suddenly there will be a change of state and it becomes an experience of another quality. ... Any play, from the lowest to the highest, is never an end in itself. It is a support. It is a basis. And overtones are being produced. Harmonics are being produced all the time. And there are moments that you can only call moments of grace. Moments of grace are moments when something way beyond the support suddenly comes to existence, but without the support it wouldn't have been there. |
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