Interludes

VIEWPOINTS: Space and Perspective Relative to Performance (Part I – Theatricality and Physical Dimensionality)

• By drediman
• March 26, 2014
• No Comments

On Monday, I had the privilege of seeing the minimalist British band the xx perform up close and personal with 44 other lucky guests at the Park Avenue Armory, one of the most epic performance spaces in New York City. The next night (yesterday night), I was in the upper reaches of the Metropolitan Opera in the Family Circle to catch the excellent, spirited revival of Bellini’s “La Sonnambula”. Both performances were memorable, but the essence of these two experiences could not be more different. This prompted me to reflect on how space and perspective affect how we experience performance. Certainly, performance quality is an integral part of the equation, but we should not underestimate the importance of spatial dimensions and our perspective of performance within those dimensions. In this first of two installments of my thoughts on space and perspective as it relates to performance, I explore the impact of the scale of playing areas on our experience as theatergoers.

One of the reasons people are drawn to live performance is that it makes us feel more connected to one another and hence alive. Yes, a good film can be a cathartic experience, but it is ultimately a personal experience that is physically achieved in two dimensions. However, attending live performance is by definition a three dimensional experience in which we are aware of our physical relation to the performers and fellow audience members. Therefore, I argue that performances that maximize this sense of physical dimensionality are ultimately more satisfying, as evidenced by the following observations.

Good dance has always satisfied my soul. In fact, some of the most soul-healthy performances I’ve attended have been in the genre of dance (e.g., Mark Morris’s “L’Allegro”, anything by George Balanchine). I believe, in part, this has some correlation with the fact that choreographers tend to use the entire width and, especially, depth of the stage. Taking in the full “architecture” of the choreographer’s vision, especially when perched in one of the higher levels of the theater, can be a breathtaking, even spiritual, experience. It’s like peering into another real world, albeit one with different physical rules and vocabulary.

On a similar note, I find many theater directors today are afraid to use the entire depth of the stage. They are eager to get the performers as close to the audience as possible by staging as much of the performance downstage (case in point, “Wicked”). Doing so minimizes the depth of the playing space, which gives the impression of two dimensionality, which I argue limits the theatrical impact. This is is further acerbated by the current trend in using projections (still and video) as a key component to production design. One might as well save the money and rent a movie on Netflix. As much as people harp on the British mega-musicals of the 1980s and 1990s (the original productions of “Cats”, “Les Miserables”, “The Phantom of the Opera”, “Miss Saigon”, and “Sunset Boulevard”), one thing is for sure: they took advantage of showcasing the depth of their respective stages to heighten the theatrical experience for their audiences. The same can be said of grand opera, particularly at the Metropolitan Opera, where the verticality of the proscenium is often used to thrilling theatrical effect. This is also true of performances in other spaces of massive scale, such as the Park Avenue Armory.

Many theatergoers think that seats closest to the stage are synonymous with good seats. I’d beg to differ. Sometimes, sitting at the back of the theater, where ticket prices are more manageable, is the more fulfilling experience. The act of seeing a performance across a sea of engaged theatergoers is a powerful image. In its own way, sitting at the back of the auditorium maximizes the dimensions of the theatergoing experience and makes one more fully appreciate not only the performance, but also the very act of theatergoing. Also, sitting further back often times masks the seams of production, presenting a world in which illusion is rarely broken.

In the next installment, I’ll cover how breaking the fourth wall and having the ability to shift perspectives can heighten our experience of performance.