dramaturgy of the spectator

16
Dramaturgy of the Spectator Author(s): Marco de Marinis and Paul Dwyer Source: The Drama Review: TDR, Vol. 31, No. 2 (Summer, 1987), pp. 100-114 Published by: The MIT Press Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1145819 Accessed: 26/01/2010 14:50 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=mitpress. Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission. JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. The MIT Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Drama Review: TDR. http://www.jstor.org

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Page 1: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the SpectatorAuthor(s): Marco de Marinis and Paul DwyerSource: The Drama Review: TDR, Vol. 31, No. 2 (Summer, 1987), pp. 100-114Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1145819Accessed: 26/01/2010 14:50

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available athttp://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unlessyou have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and youmay use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use.

Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained athttp://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=mitpress.

Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printedpage of such transmission.

JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

The MIT Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Drama Review:TDR.

http://www.jstor.org

Page 2: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Marco De Marinis

An Unlikely Association

I wish to reconsider here the problem of reception in the theatre as broadly and with as little theoretical bias as possible. On the one hand, I will concentrate on results drawn from the work of theatre practitioners while considering, on the other hand, the hypotheses and data coming out of the scientific research into this and related matters. This research has been going on in various fields-often via a multidisciplinary approach ranging from sociology to experimental psychology, from an-

thropology to history and, of course, to semiotics (see De Marinis 1982,

chapter VII, 1983, 1984, I985). There is an unlikely association of two terms which we are not general-

ly used to seeing as connected: dramaturgy and spectator. First, an impor- tant distinction in terminology:

Dramaturgy-This may be defined as: the set of techniques/ theories governing the composition of the theatrical text.

Theatrical text -This is no longer meant to indicate the dra- matic, literary text but rather the text of the theatrical per- formance (testo spettacolare), the performance text. This is conceived of as a complex network of different types of

signs, expressive means, or actions, coming back to the

etymology of the word "text" which implies the idea of tex- ture, of something woven together.

"Dramaturgy" can now be defined as: the techniques/theory governing the composition of the performance-as-text (testo spettacolare); it is: the set of techniques/theories governing the composition of signs/expressive means/actions which are woven together to create the texture of the per- formance, the performance text.

Dramaturgy of the Performance/Dramaturgy of the Spectator On the basis of this redefinition, there clearly exists a dramaturgy of

the director and a dramaturgy of the performer. However surprisingly it may seem at first, we also can and should speak-not just metaphorical- ly-of a dramaturgy of the spectator (see Ruffini 1985). For a start, I would suggest that we can speak of this dramaturgy of the spectator in two ways, both of which are already grammatically present in the double meaning (objective and subjective) of the possessive "of":

Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Marco De Marinis

An Unlikely Association

I wish to reconsider here the problem of reception in the theatre as broadly and with as little theoretical bias as possible. On the one hand, I will concentrate on results drawn from the work of theatre practitioners while considering, on the other hand, the hypotheses and data coming out of the scientific research into this and related matters. This research has been going on in various fields-often via a multidisciplinary approach ranging from sociology to experimental psychology, from an-

thropology to history and, of course, to semiotics (see De Marinis 1982,

chapter VII, 1983, 1984, I985). There is an unlikely association of two terms which we are not general-

ly used to seeing as connected: dramaturgy and spectator. First, an impor- tant distinction in terminology:

Dramaturgy-This may be defined as: the set of techniques/ theories governing the composition of the theatrical text.

Theatrical text -This is no longer meant to indicate the dra- matic, literary text but rather the text of the theatrical per- formance (testo spettacolare), the performance text. This is conceived of as a complex network of different types of

signs, expressive means, or actions, coming back to the

etymology of the word "text" which implies the idea of tex- ture, of something woven together.

"Dramaturgy" can now be defined as: the techniques/theory governing the composition of the performance-as-text (testo spettacolare); it is: the set of techniques/theories governing the composition of signs/expressive means/actions which are woven together to create the texture of the per- formance, the performance text.

Dramaturgy of the Performance/Dramaturgy of the Spectator On the basis of this redefinition, there clearly exists a dramaturgy of

the director and a dramaturgy of the performer. However surprisingly it may seem at first, we also can and should speak-not just metaphorical- ly-of a dramaturgy of the spectator (see Ruffini 1985). For a start, I would suggest that we can speak of this dramaturgy of the spectator in two ways, both of which are already grammatically present in the double meaning (objective and subjective) of the possessive "of":

Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Marco De Marinis

An Unlikely Association

I wish to reconsider here the problem of reception in the theatre as broadly and with as little theoretical bias as possible. On the one hand, I will concentrate on results drawn from the work of theatre practitioners while considering, on the other hand, the hypotheses and data coming out of the scientific research into this and related matters. This research has been going on in various fields-often via a multidisciplinary approach ranging from sociology to experimental psychology, from an-

thropology to history and, of course, to semiotics (see De Marinis 1982,

chapter VII, 1983, 1984, I985). There is an unlikely association of two terms which we are not general-

ly used to seeing as connected: dramaturgy and spectator. First, an impor- tant distinction in terminology:

Dramaturgy-This may be defined as: the set of techniques/ theories governing the composition of the theatrical text.

Theatrical text -This is no longer meant to indicate the dra- matic, literary text but rather the text of the theatrical per- formance (testo spettacolare), the performance text. This is conceived of as a complex network of different types of

signs, expressive means, or actions, coming back to the

etymology of the word "text" which implies the idea of tex- ture, of something woven together.

"Dramaturgy" can now be defined as: the techniques/theory governing the composition of the performance-as-text (testo spettacolare); it is: the set of techniques/theories governing the composition of signs/expressive means/actions which are woven together to create the texture of the per- formance, the performance text.

Dramaturgy of the Performance/Dramaturgy of the Spectator On the basis of this redefinition, there clearly exists a dramaturgy of

the director and a dramaturgy of the performer. However surprisingly it may seem at first, we also can and should speak-not just metaphorical- ly-of a dramaturgy of the spectator (see Ruffini 1985). For a start, I would suggest that we can speak of this dramaturgy of the spectator in two ways, both of which are already grammatically present in the double meaning (objective and subjective) of the possessive "of":

Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Marco De Marinis

An Unlikely Association

I wish to reconsider here the problem of reception in the theatre as broadly and with as little theoretical bias as possible. On the one hand, I will concentrate on results drawn from the work of theatre practitioners while considering, on the other hand, the hypotheses and data coming out of the scientific research into this and related matters. This research has been going on in various fields-often via a multidisciplinary approach ranging from sociology to experimental psychology, from an-

thropology to history and, of course, to semiotics (see De Marinis 1982,

chapter VII, 1983, 1984, I985). There is an unlikely association of two terms which we are not general-

ly used to seeing as connected: dramaturgy and spectator. First, an impor- tant distinction in terminology:

Dramaturgy-This may be defined as: the set of techniques/ theories governing the composition of the theatrical text.

Theatrical text -This is no longer meant to indicate the dra- matic, literary text but rather the text of the theatrical per- formance (testo spettacolare), the performance text. This is conceived of as a complex network of different types of

signs, expressive means, or actions, coming back to the

etymology of the word "text" which implies the idea of tex- ture, of something woven together.

"Dramaturgy" can now be defined as: the techniques/theory governing the composition of the performance-as-text (testo spettacolare); it is: the set of techniques/theories governing the composition of signs/expressive means/actions which are woven together to create the texture of the per- formance, the performance text.

Dramaturgy of the Performance/Dramaturgy of the Spectator On the basis of this redefinition, there clearly exists a dramaturgy of

the director and a dramaturgy of the performer. However surprisingly it may seem at first, we also can and should speak-not just metaphorical- ly-of a dramaturgy of the spectator (see Ruffini 1985). For a start, I would suggest that we can speak of this dramaturgy of the spectator in two ways, both of which are already grammatically present in the double meaning (objective and subjective) of the possessive "of":

Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Marco De Marinis

An Unlikely Association

I wish to reconsider here the problem of reception in the theatre as broadly and with as little theoretical bias as possible. On the one hand, I will concentrate on results drawn from the work of theatre practitioners while considering, on the other hand, the hypotheses and data coming out of the scientific research into this and related matters. This research has been going on in various fields-often via a multidisciplinary approach ranging from sociology to experimental psychology, from an-

thropology to history and, of course, to semiotics (see De Marinis 1982,

chapter VII, 1983, 1984, I985). There is an unlikely association of two terms which we are not general-

ly used to seeing as connected: dramaturgy and spectator. First, an impor- tant distinction in terminology:

Dramaturgy-This may be defined as: the set of techniques/ theories governing the composition of the theatrical text.

Theatrical text -This is no longer meant to indicate the dra- matic, literary text but rather the text of the theatrical per- formance (testo spettacolare), the performance text. This is conceived of as a complex network of different types of

signs, expressive means, or actions, coming back to the

etymology of the word "text" which implies the idea of tex- ture, of something woven together.

"Dramaturgy" can now be defined as: the techniques/theory governing the composition of the performance-as-text (testo spettacolare); it is: the set of techniques/theories governing the composition of signs/expressive means/actions which are woven together to create the texture of the per- formance, the performance text.

Dramaturgy of the Performance/Dramaturgy of the Spectator On the basis of this redefinition, there clearly exists a dramaturgy of

the director and a dramaturgy of the performer. However surprisingly it may seem at first, we also can and should speak-not just metaphorical- ly-of a dramaturgy of the spectator (see Ruffini 1985). For a start, I would suggest that we can speak of this dramaturgy of the spectator in two ways, both of which are already grammatically present in the double meaning (objective and subjective) of the possessive "of":

Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Marco De Marinis

An Unlikely Association

I wish to reconsider here the problem of reception in the theatre as broadly and with as little theoretical bias as possible. On the one hand, I will concentrate on results drawn from the work of theatre practitioners while considering, on the other hand, the hypotheses and data coming out of the scientific research into this and related matters. This research has been going on in various fields-often via a multidisciplinary approach ranging from sociology to experimental psychology, from an-

thropology to history and, of course, to semiotics (see De Marinis 1982,

chapter VII, 1983, 1984, I985). There is an unlikely association of two terms which we are not general-

ly used to seeing as connected: dramaturgy and spectator. First, an impor- tant distinction in terminology:

Dramaturgy-This may be defined as: the set of techniques/ theories governing the composition of the theatrical text.

Theatrical text -This is no longer meant to indicate the dra- matic, literary text but rather the text of the theatrical per- formance (testo spettacolare), the performance text. This is conceived of as a complex network of different types of

signs, expressive means, or actions, coming back to the

etymology of the word "text" which implies the idea of tex- ture, of something woven together.

"Dramaturgy" can now be defined as: the techniques/theory governing the composition of the performance-as-text (testo spettacolare); it is: the set of techniques/theories governing the composition of signs/expressive means/actions which are woven together to create the texture of the per- formance, the performance text.

Dramaturgy of the Performance/Dramaturgy of the Spectator On the basis of this redefinition, there clearly exists a dramaturgy of

the director and a dramaturgy of the performer. However surprisingly it may seem at first, we also can and should speak-not just metaphorical- ly-of a dramaturgy of the spectator (see Ruffini 1985). For a start, I would suggest that we can speak of this dramaturgy of the spectator in two ways, both of which are already grammatically present in the double meaning (objective and subjective) of the possessive "of":

Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Marco De Marinis

An Unlikely Association

I wish to reconsider here the problem of reception in the theatre as broadly and with as little theoretical bias as possible. On the one hand, I will concentrate on results drawn from the work of theatre practitioners while considering, on the other hand, the hypotheses and data coming out of the scientific research into this and related matters. This research has been going on in various fields-often via a multidisciplinary approach ranging from sociology to experimental psychology, from an-

thropology to history and, of course, to semiotics (see De Marinis 1982,

chapter VII, 1983, 1984, I985). There is an unlikely association of two terms which we are not general-

ly used to seeing as connected: dramaturgy and spectator. First, an impor- tant distinction in terminology:

Dramaturgy-This may be defined as: the set of techniques/ theories governing the composition of the theatrical text.

Theatrical text -This is no longer meant to indicate the dra- matic, literary text but rather the text of the theatrical per- formance (testo spettacolare), the performance text. This is conceived of as a complex network of different types of

signs, expressive means, or actions, coming back to the

etymology of the word "text" which implies the idea of tex- ture, of something woven together.

"Dramaturgy" can now be defined as: the techniques/theory governing the composition of the performance-as-text (testo spettacolare); it is: the set of techniques/theories governing the composition of signs/expressive means/actions which are woven together to create the texture of the per- formance, the performance text.

Dramaturgy of the Performance/Dramaturgy of the Spectator On the basis of this redefinition, there clearly exists a dramaturgy of

the director and a dramaturgy of the performer. However surprisingly it may seem at first, we also can and should speak-not just metaphorical- ly-of a dramaturgy of the spectator (see Ruffini 1985). For a start, I would suggest that we can speak of this dramaturgy of the spectator in two ways, both of which are already grammatically present in the double meaning (objective and subjective) of the possessive "of":

Page 3: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the Spectator IOI

I. We can speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in a passive or, more precisely, objective sense in which we conceive of the audience as a dramaturgical object, a mark or target for the actions/operations of the director, the performers, and, if there is one, the writer.

2. We can also speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in an active or subjective sense, referring to the various receptive operations/actions that an audience carries out: perception, interpretation, aesthetic appre- ciation, memorization, emotive and intellectual response, etc. (see De Marinis 1983, I984). These operations/actions of the audience's mem- bers are to be considered truly dramaturgical (not just metaphorically) since it is only through these actions that the performance text achieves its fullness, becoming realized in all its semantic and commu- nicative potential.

Naturally, in order to speak of an active dramaturgy of the spectator, we must see her/his understanding of the performance not as some me- chanical operation which has been strictly predetermined-by the perfor- mance and its producers-but rather as a task which the spectator carries out in conditions of relative independence, or, as Franco Ruffini has re- cently suggested, in conditions of "controlled creative autonomy" (I985:35). The partial or relative autonomy of each of the different dra- maturgies (the director's, the writer's, the performer's, the spectator's) all work together in the composition of the performance and must be seen as mutually setting and occasionally adjusting each other's boundaries. In particular, as regards the spectator, to deny her/his (relative) autonomy or, conversely, to consider it totally beyond restraints means upsetting and threatening the balance between determination (constraint) and free- dom; this dialectic between the constraints imposed by the work (the "aesthetic text") and the possibilities left open to those who receive the work strikes a balance which is the essence of the aesthetic experience and the source of its vitality.

Only in theory can we clearly separate these two dramaturgies of the spectator, the one passive (objective) and the other active (subjective). In fact, they turn out to be closely linked and act directly upon each other in that they each derive from the two fundamental and inseparable dimen- sions (like two sides of a coin) which together constitute the performance event and the "theatrical relationship."

One side of this "theatrical relationship"-the relation of performance to spectator-comprises a manipulation of the. audience by the perfor- mance. Through its actions, by putting to work a range of definite semio- tic strategies, the performance seeks to induce in each spectator a range of definite transformations, both intellectual (cognitive) and affective (ideas, beliefs, emotions, fantasies, values, etc.). The performance may even urge its audience to adopt particular forms of behavior such as in political theatre. This manipulative aspect of the performance can be expressed in terms of Algirdas J. Greimas' theory: the performance or, better still, the theatrical relationship, is not so much a making-known (faire-savoir)- that is, an aseptic exchange of information/messages/knowledge-as it is a making-believed (faire-croire) and a making-done (faire-faire) (see Grei- mas and Courtes 1979). There is perhaps a further explanation to be made here: in speaking of "theatrical manipulation," I do not mean manipula- tion in the ideological sense which the term traditionally implied before its use in semiotics. That is to say, I do not mean to refer exclusively to cases where the deliberate and explicit aim of the producers of a perfor-

Dramaturgy of the Spectator IOI

I. We can speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in a passive or, more precisely, objective sense in which we conceive of the audience as a dramaturgical object, a mark or target for the actions/operations of the director, the performers, and, if there is one, the writer.

2. We can also speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in an active or subjective sense, referring to the various receptive operations/actions that an audience carries out: perception, interpretation, aesthetic appre- ciation, memorization, emotive and intellectual response, etc. (see De Marinis 1983, I984). These operations/actions of the audience's mem- bers are to be considered truly dramaturgical (not just metaphorically) since it is only through these actions that the performance text achieves its fullness, becoming realized in all its semantic and commu- nicative potential.

Naturally, in order to speak of an active dramaturgy of the spectator, we must see her/his understanding of the performance not as some me- chanical operation which has been strictly predetermined-by the perfor- mance and its producers-but rather as a task which the spectator carries out in conditions of relative independence, or, as Franco Ruffini has re- cently suggested, in conditions of "controlled creative autonomy" (I985:35). The partial or relative autonomy of each of the different dra- maturgies (the director's, the writer's, the performer's, the spectator's) all work together in the composition of the performance and must be seen as mutually setting and occasionally adjusting each other's boundaries. In particular, as regards the spectator, to deny her/his (relative) autonomy or, conversely, to consider it totally beyond restraints means upsetting and threatening the balance between determination (constraint) and free- dom; this dialectic between the constraints imposed by the work (the "aesthetic text") and the possibilities left open to those who receive the work strikes a balance which is the essence of the aesthetic experience and the source of its vitality.

Only in theory can we clearly separate these two dramaturgies of the spectator, the one passive (objective) and the other active (subjective). In fact, they turn out to be closely linked and act directly upon each other in that they each derive from the two fundamental and inseparable dimen- sions (like two sides of a coin) which together constitute the performance event and the "theatrical relationship."

One side of this "theatrical relationship"-the relation of performance to spectator-comprises a manipulation of the. audience by the perfor- mance. Through its actions, by putting to work a range of definite semio- tic strategies, the performance seeks to induce in each spectator a range of definite transformations, both intellectual (cognitive) and affective (ideas, beliefs, emotions, fantasies, values, etc.). The performance may even urge its audience to adopt particular forms of behavior such as in political theatre. This manipulative aspect of the performance can be expressed in terms of Algirdas J. Greimas' theory: the performance or, better still, the theatrical relationship, is not so much a making-known (faire-savoir)- that is, an aseptic exchange of information/messages/knowledge-as it is a making-believed (faire-croire) and a making-done (faire-faire) (see Grei- mas and Courtes 1979). There is perhaps a further explanation to be made here: in speaking of "theatrical manipulation," I do not mean manipula- tion in the ideological sense which the term traditionally implied before its use in semiotics. That is to say, I do not mean to refer exclusively to cases where the deliberate and explicit aim of the producers of a perfor-

Dramaturgy of the Spectator IOI

I. We can speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in a passive or, more precisely, objective sense in which we conceive of the audience as a dramaturgical object, a mark or target for the actions/operations of the director, the performers, and, if there is one, the writer.

2. We can also speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in an active or subjective sense, referring to the various receptive operations/actions that an audience carries out: perception, interpretation, aesthetic appre- ciation, memorization, emotive and intellectual response, etc. (see De Marinis 1983, I984). These operations/actions of the audience's mem- bers are to be considered truly dramaturgical (not just metaphorically) since it is only through these actions that the performance text achieves its fullness, becoming realized in all its semantic and commu- nicative potential.

Naturally, in order to speak of an active dramaturgy of the spectator, we must see her/his understanding of the performance not as some me- chanical operation which has been strictly predetermined-by the perfor- mance and its producers-but rather as a task which the spectator carries out in conditions of relative independence, or, as Franco Ruffini has re- cently suggested, in conditions of "controlled creative autonomy" (I985:35). The partial or relative autonomy of each of the different dra- maturgies (the director's, the writer's, the performer's, the spectator's) all work together in the composition of the performance and must be seen as mutually setting and occasionally adjusting each other's boundaries. In particular, as regards the spectator, to deny her/his (relative) autonomy or, conversely, to consider it totally beyond restraints means upsetting and threatening the balance between determination (constraint) and free- dom; this dialectic between the constraints imposed by the work (the "aesthetic text") and the possibilities left open to those who receive the work strikes a balance which is the essence of the aesthetic experience and the source of its vitality.

Only in theory can we clearly separate these two dramaturgies of the spectator, the one passive (objective) and the other active (subjective). In fact, they turn out to be closely linked and act directly upon each other in that they each derive from the two fundamental and inseparable dimen- sions (like two sides of a coin) which together constitute the performance event and the "theatrical relationship."

One side of this "theatrical relationship"-the relation of performance to spectator-comprises a manipulation of the. audience by the perfor- mance. Through its actions, by putting to work a range of definite semio- tic strategies, the performance seeks to induce in each spectator a range of definite transformations, both intellectual (cognitive) and affective (ideas, beliefs, emotions, fantasies, values, etc.). The performance may even urge its audience to adopt particular forms of behavior such as in political theatre. This manipulative aspect of the performance can be expressed in terms of Algirdas J. Greimas' theory: the performance or, better still, the theatrical relationship, is not so much a making-known (faire-savoir)- that is, an aseptic exchange of information/messages/knowledge-as it is a making-believed (faire-croire) and a making-done (faire-faire) (see Grei- mas and Courtes 1979). There is perhaps a further explanation to be made here: in speaking of "theatrical manipulation," I do not mean manipula- tion in the ideological sense which the term traditionally implied before its use in semiotics. That is to say, I do not mean to refer exclusively to cases where the deliberate and explicit aim of the producers of a perfor-

Dramaturgy of the Spectator IOI

I. We can speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in a passive or, more precisely, objective sense in which we conceive of the audience as a dramaturgical object, a mark or target for the actions/operations of the director, the performers, and, if there is one, the writer.

2. We can also speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in an active or subjective sense, referring to the various receptive operations/actions that an audience carries out: perception, interpretation, aesthetic appre- ciation, memorization, emotive and intellectual response, etc. (see De Marinis 1983, I984). These operations/actions of the audience's mem- bers are to be considered truly dramaturgical (not just metaphorically) since it is only through these actions that the performance text achieves its fullness, becoming realized in all its semantic and commu- nicative potential.

Naturally, in order to speak of an active dramaturgy of the spectator, we must see her/his understanding of the performance not as some me- chanical operation which has been strictly predetermined-by the perfor- mance and its producers-but rather as a task which the spectator carries out in conditions of relative independence, or, as Franco Ruffini has re- cently suggested, in conditions of "controlled creative autonomy" (I985:35). The partial or relative autonomy of each of the different dra- maturgies (the director's, the writer's, the performer's, the spectator's) all work together in the composition of the performance and must be seen as mutually setting and occasionally adjusting each other's boundaries. In particular, as regards the spectator, to deny her/his (relative) autonomy or, conversely, to consider it totally beyond restraints means upsetting and threatening the balance between determination (constraint) and free- dom; this dialectic between the constraints imposed by the work (the "aesthetic text") and the possibilities left open to those who receive the work strikes a balance which is the essence of the aesthetic experience and the source of its vitality.

Only in theory can we clearly separate these two dramaturgies of the spectator, the one passive (objective) and the other active (subjective). In fact, they turn out to be closely linked and act directly upon each other in that they each derive from the two fundamental and inseparable dimen- sions (like two sides of a coin) which together constitute the performance event and the "theatrical relationship."

One side of this "theatrical relationship"-the relation of performance to spectator-comprises a manipulation of the. audience by the perfor- mance. Through its actions, by putting to work a range of definite semio- tic strategies, the performance seeks to induce in each spectator a range of definite transformations, both intellectual (cognitive) and affective (ideas, beliefs, emotions, fantasies, values, etc.). The performance may even urge its audience to adopt particular forms of behavior such as in political theatre. This manipulative aspect of the performance can be expressed in terms of Algirdas J. Greimas' theory: the performance or, better still, the theatrical relationship, is not so much a making-known (faire-savoir)- that is, an aseptic exchange of information/messages/knowledge-as it is a making-believed (faire-croire) and a making-done (faire-faire) (see Grei- mas and Courtes 1979). There is perhaps a further explanation to be made here: in speaking of "theatrical manipulation," I do not mean manipula- tion in the ideological sense which the term traditionally implied before its use in semiotics. That is to say, I do not mean to refer exclusively to cases where the deliberate and explicit aim of the producers of a perfor-

Dramaturgy of the Spectator IOI

I. We can speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in a passive or, more precisely, objective sense in which we conceive of the audience as a dramaturgical object, a mark or target for the actions/operations of the director, the performers, and, if there is one, the writer.

2. We can also speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in an active or subjective sense, referring to the various receptive operations/actions that an audience carries out: perception, interpretation, aesthetic appre- ciation, memorization, emotive and intellectual response, etc. (see De Marinis 1983, I984). These operations/actions of the audience's mem- bers are to be considered truly dramaturgical (not just metaphorically) since it is only through these actions that the performance text achieves its fullness, becoming realized in all its semantic and commu- nicative potential.

Naturally, in order to speak of an active dramaturgy of the spectator, we must see her/his understanding of the performance not as some me- chanical operation which has been strictly predetermined-by the perfor- mance and its producers-but rather as a task which the spectator carries out in conditions of relative independence, or, as Franco Ruffini has re- cently suggested, in conditions of "controlled creative autonomy" (I985:35). The partial or relative autonomy of each of the different dra- maturgies (the director's, the writer's, the performer's, the spectator's) all work together in the composition of the performance and must be seen as mutually setting and occasionally adjusting each other's boundaries. In particular, as regards the spectator, to deny her/his (relative) autonomy or, conversely, to consider it totally beyond restraints means upsetting and threatening the balance between determination (constraint) and free- dom; this dialectic between the constraints imposed by the work (the "aesthetic text") and the possibilities left open to those who receive the work strikes a balance which is the essence of the aesthetic experience and the source of its vitality.

Only in theory can we clearly separate these two dramaturgies of the spectator, the one passive (objective) and the other active (subjective). In fact, they turn out to be closely linked and act directly upon each other in that they each derive from the two fundamental and inseparable dimen- sions (like two sides of a coin) which together constitute the performance event and the "theatrical relationship."

One side of this "theatrical relationship"-the relation of performance to spectator-comprises a manipulation of the. audience by the perfor- mance. Through its actions, by putting to work a range of definite semio- tic strategies, the performance seeks to induce in each spectator a range of definite transformations, both intellectual (cognitive) and affective (ideas, beliefs, emotions, fantasies, values, etc.). The performance may even urge its audience to adopt particular forms of behavior such as in political theatre. This manipulative aspect of the performance can be expressed in terms of Algirdas J. Greimas' theory: the performance or, better still, the theatrical relationship, is not so much a making-known (faire-savoir)- that is, an aseptic exchange of information/messages/knowledge-as it is a making-believed (faire-croire) and a making-done (faire-faire) (see Grei- mas and Courtes 1979). There is perhaps a further explanation to be made here: in speaking of "theatrical manipulation," I do not mean manipula- tion in the ideological sense which the term traditionally implied before its use in semiotics. That is to say, I do not mean to refer exclusively to cases where the deliberate and explicit aim of the producers of a perfor-

Dramaturgy of the Spectator IOI

I. We can speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in a passive or, more precisely, objective sense in which we conceive of the audience as a dramaturgical object, a mark or target for the actions/operations of the director, the performers, and, if there is one, the writer.

2. We can also speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in an active or subjective sense, referring to the various receptive operations/actions that an audience carries out: perception, interpretation, aesthetic appre- ciation, memorization, emotive and intellectual response, etc. (see De Marinis 1983, I984). These operations/actions of the audience's mem- bers are to be considered truly dramaturgical (not just metaphorically) since it is only through these actions that the performance text achieves its fullness, becoming realized in all its semantic and commu- nicative potential.

Naturally, in order to speak of an active dramaturgy of the spectator, we must see her/his understanding of the performance not as some me- chanical operation which has been strictly predetermined-by the perfor- mance and its producers-but rather as a task which the spectator carries out in conditions of relative independence, or, as Franco Ruffini has re- cently suggested, in conditions of "controlled creative autonomy" (I985:35). The partial or relative autonomy of each of the different dra- maturgies (the director's, the writer's, the performer's, the spectator's) all work together in the composition of the performance and must be seen as mutually setting and occasionally adjusting each other's boundaries. In particular, as regards the spectator, to deny her/his (relative) autonomy or, conversely, to consider it totally beyond restraints means upsetting and threatening the balance between determination (constraint) and free- dom; this dialectic between the constraints imposed by the work (the "aesthetic text") and the possibilities left open to those who receive the work strikes a balance which is the essence of the aesthetic experience and the source of its vitality.

Only in theory can we clearly separate these two dramaturgies of the spectator, the one passive (objective) and the other active (subjective). In fact, they turn out to be closely linked and act directly upon each other in that they each derive from the two fundamental and inseparable dimen- sions (like two sides of a coin) which together constitute the performance event and the "theatrical relationship."

One side of this "theatrical relationship"-the relation of performance to spectator-comprises a manipulation of the. audience by the perfor- mance. Through its actions, by putting to work a range of definite semio- tic strategies, the performance seeks to induce in each spectator a range of definite transformations, both intellectual (cognitive) and affective (ideas, beliefs, emotions, fantasies, values, etc.). The performance may even urge its audience to adopt particular forms of behavior such as in political theatre. This manipulative aspect of the performance can be expressed in terms of Algirdas J. Greimas' theory: the performance or, better still, the theatrical relationship, is not so much a making-known (faire-savoir)- that is, an aseptic exchange of information/messages/knowledge-as it is a making-believed (faire-croire) and a making-done (faire-faire) (see Grei- mas and Courtes 1979). There is perhaps a further explanation to be made here: in speaking of "theatrical manipulation," I do not mean manipula- tion in the ideological sense which the term traditionally implied before its use in semiotics. That is to say, I do not mean to refer exclusively to cases where the deliberate and explicit aim of the producers of a perfor-

Dramaturgy of the Spectator IOI

I. We can speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in a passive or, more precisely, objective sense in which we conceive of the audience as a dramaturgical object, a mark or target for the actions/operations of the director, the performers, and, if there is one, the writer.

2. We can also speak of a dramaturgy of the spectator in an active or subjective sense, referring to the various receptive operations/actions that an audience carries out: perception, interpretation, aesthetic appre- ciation, memorization, emotive and intellectual response, etc. (see De Marinis 1983, I984). These operations/actions of the audience's mem- bers are to be considered truly dramaturgical (not just metaphorically) since it is only through these actions that the performance text achieves its fullness, becoming realized in all its semantic and commu- nicative potential.

Naturally, in order to speak of an active dramaturgy of the spectator, we must see her/his understanding of the performance not as some me- chanical operation which has been strictly predetermined-by the perfor- mance and its producers-but rather as a task which the spectator carries out in conditions of relative independence, or, as Franco Ruffini has re- cently suggested, in conditions of "controlled creative autonomy" (I985:35). The partial or relative autonomy of each of the different dra- maturgies (the director's, the writer's, the performer's, the spectator's) all work together in the composition of the performance and must be seen as mutually setting and occasionally adjusting each other's boundaries. In particular, as regards the spectator, to deny her/his (relative) autonomy or, conversely, to consider it totally beyond restraints means upsetting and threatening the balance between determination (constraint) and free- dom; this dialectic between the constraints imposed by the work (the "aesthetic text") and the possibilities left open to those who receive the work strikes a balance which is the essence of the aesthetic experience and the source of its vitality.

Only in theory can we clearly separate these two dramaturgies of the spectator, the one passive (objective) and the other active (subjective). In fact, they turn out to be closely linked and act directly upon each other in that they each derive from the two fundamental and inseparable dimen- sions (like two sides of a coin) which together constitute the performance event and the "theatrical relationship."

One side of this "theatrical relationship"-the relation of performance to spectator-comprises a manipulation of the. audience by the perfor- mance. Through its actions, by putting to work a range of definite semio- tic strategies, the performance seeks to induce in each spectator a range of definite transformations, both intellectual (cognitive) and affective (ideas, beliefs, emotions, fantasies, values, etc.). The performance may even urge its audience to adopt particular forms of behavior such as in political theatre. This manipulative aspect of the performance can be expressed in terms of Algirdas J. Greimas' theory: the performance or, better still, the theatrical relationship, is not so much a making-known (faire-savoir)- that is, an aseptic exchange of information/messages/knowledge-as it is a making-believed (faire-croire) and a making-done (faire-faire) (see Grei- mas and Courtes 1979). There is perhaps a further explanation to be made here: in speaking of "theatrical manipulation," I do not mean manipula- tion in the ideological sense which the term traditionally implied before its use in semiotics. That is to say, I do not mean to refer exclusively to cases where the deliberate and explicit aim of the producers of a perfor-

Page 4: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

I02 Marco De Marinis I02 Marco De Marinis I02 Marco De Marinis I02 Marco De Marinis I02 Marco De Marinis I02 Marco De Marinis I02 Marco De Marinis

mance is to persuade or seduce. I wish instead to bring to light an essen- tial and intrinsic aspect of the performance/spectator relationship as such. This particular aspect depends, in turn, on the asymmetrical and unbal- anced nature of this relationship; for whatever efforts have been and will in the future be made, this relationship can never become one of real equality (see De Marinis 1982, chapter VI, and 1981).

The other side to the theatrical relationship, contemporaneous with the first, consists of an active cooperation by the spectator. More than just a metaphorical coproducer of the performance, the spectator is a relatively autonomous "maker of meanings" for the performance; its cognitive and emotive effects can only be truly actualized by the audience. Of course, the spectator's "cooperation" does not refer to those rare cases which call for an effective, material contribution from the audience, but rather to the intrinsically active nature which makes up the spectator's reception of the performance.

Where both meanings of a "dramaturgy of the spectator" overlap (though in theory perhaps more towards the passive or objective mean- ing) is where we find the questions concerning the notion of a Model Spectator; the theatrical space as a determinant factor in reception; and the structuring of the audience's attention.

The Model Spectator

The pragmatics of how a text-aesthetic or other-actually functions have been studied in various disciplines, and for several years now it has been thought necessary to distinguish between two types of receiver, or more precisely, between two different levels of reception:

I. The extra-textual level of the real (empirical) receiver: This level of

reception consists of the reading strategies which are effectively acti- vated during the comprehension of a text.

2. The intra-textual level of the implied (the hypothetical, ideal, virtual) receiver. This level comprises the strategies within the text, the man- ner of interpretation anticipated by the text and written into it.

We must understand that this implied receiver-Umberto Eco's "Mod- el Reader," whence my "Model Spectator" (Eco I979)-represents a hy- pothetical construct and is simply part of a theoretical metalanguage. The idea is not to see the receptive processes of the empirical receiver as being rigidly preset nor to indicate a normative reading that is somehow opti- mal, relevant, or correct, and to which every real receiver should try to conform.

Eco's Model Reader was proposed as something quite different: it was an attempt to remind us that production and reception are strictly linked, even though they obviously do not altogether coincide. (This runs counter to the arguments of various poststructuralist tendencies such as the "Yale School" of deconstruction which speaks of reading as misread- ing.) It was also an attempt to show in what form this strict link between production and reception may, from time to time, present itself. In other words, it meant being aware that

a text postulates its own receiver as an indispensable condition not only of its own, concrete communicative ability, but also of its own potential for meaning. [ . . . ] A text is a product, the

mance is to persuade or seduce. I wish instead to bring to light an essen- tial and intrinsic aspect of the performance/spectator relationship as such. This particular aspect depends, in turn, on the asymmetrical and unbal- anced nature of this relationship; for whatever efforts have been and will in the future be made, this relationship can never become one of real equality (see De Marinis 1982, chapter VI, and 1981).

The other side to the theatrical relationship, contemporaneous with the first, consists of an active cooperation by the spectator. More than just a metaphorical coproducer of the performance, the spectator is a relatively autonomous "maker of meanings" for the performance; its cognitive and emotive effects can only be truly actualized by the audience. Of course, the spectator's "cooperation" does not refer to those rare cases which call for an effective, material contribution from the audience, but rather to the intrinsically active nature which makes up the spectator's reception of the performance.

Where both meanings of a "dramaturgy of the spectator" overlap (though in theory perhaps more towards the passive or objective mean- ing) is where we find the questions concerning the notion of a Model Spectator; the theatrical space as a determinant factor in reception; and the structuring of the audience's attention.

The Model Spectator

The pragmatics of how a text-aesthetic or other-actually functions have been studied in various disciplines, and for several years now it has been thought necessary to distinguish between two types of receiver, or more precisely, between two different levels of reception:

I. The extra-textual level of the real (empirical) receiver: This level of

reception consists of the reading strategies which are effectively acti- vated during the comprehension of a text.

2. The intra-textual level of the implied (the hypothetical, ideal, virtual) receiver. This level comprises the strategies within the text, the man- ner of interpretation anticipated by the text and written into it.

We must understand that this implied receiver-Umberto Eco's "Mod- el Reader," whence my "Model Spectator" (Eco I979)-represents a hy- pothetical construct and is simply part of a theoretical metalanguage. The idea is not to see the receptive processes of the empirical receiver as being rigidly preset nor to indicate a normative reading that is somehow opti- mal, relevant, or correct, and to which every real receiver should try to conform.

Eco's Model Reader was proposed as something quite different: it was an attempt to remind us that production and reception are strictly linked, even though they obviously do not altogether coincide. (This runs counter to the arguments of various poststructuralist tendencies such as the "Yale School" of deconstruction which speaks of reading as misread- ing.) It was also an attempt to show in what form this strict link between production and reception may, from time to time, present itself. In other words, it meant being aware that

a text postulates its own receiver as an indispensable condition not only of its own, concrete communicative ability, but also of its own potential for meaning. [ . . . ] A text is a product, the

mance is to persuade or seduce. I wish instead to bring to light an essen- tial and intrinsic aspect of the performance/spectator relationship as such. This particular aspect depends, in turn, on the asymmetrical and unbal- anced nature of this relationship; for whatever efforts have been and will in the future be made, this relationship can never become one of real equality (see De Marinis 1982, chapter VI, and 1981).

The other side to the theatrical relationship, contemporaneous with the first, consists of an active cooperation by the spectator. More than just a metaphorical coproducer of the performance, the spectator is a relatively autonomous "maker of meanings" for the performance; its cognitive and emotive effects can only be truly actualized by the audience. Of course, the spectator's "cooperation" does not refer to those rare cases which call for an effective, material contribution from the audience, but rather to the intrinsically active nature which makes up the spectator's reception of the performance.

Where both meanings of a "dramaturgy of the spectator" overlap (though in theory perhaps more towards the passive or objective mean- ing) is where we find the questions concerning the notion of a Model Spectator; the theatrical space as a determinant factor in reception; and the structuring of the audience's attention.

The Model Spectator

The pragmatics of how a text-aesthetic or other-actually functions have been studied in various disciplines, and for several years now it has been thought necessary to distinguish between two types of receiver, or more precisely, between two different levels of reception:

I. The extra-textual level of the real (empirical) receiver: This level of

reception consists of the reading strategies which are effectively acti- vated during the comprehension of a text.

2. The intra-textual level of the implied (the hypothetical, ideal, virtual) receiver. This level comprises the strategies within the text, the man- ner of interpretation anticipated by the text and written into it.

We must understand that this implied receiver-Umberto Eco's "Mod- el Reader," whence my "Model Spectator" (Eco I979)-represents a hy- pothetical construct and is simply part of a theoretical metalanguage. The idea is not to see the receptive processes of the empirical receiver as being rigidly preset nor to indicate a normative reading that is somehow opti- mal, relevant, or correct, and to which every real receiver should try to conform.

Eco's Model Reader was proposed as something quite different: it was an attempt to remind us that production and reception are strictly linked, even though they obviously do not altogether coincide. (This runs counter to the arguments of various poststructuralist tendencies such as the "Yale School" of deconstruction which speaks of reading as misread- ing.) It was also an attempt to show in what form this strict link between production and reception may, from time to time, present itself. In other words, it meant being aware that

a text postulates its own receiver as an indispensable condition not only of its own, concrete communicative ability, but also of its own potential for meaning. [ . . . ] A text is a product, the

mance is to persuade or seduce. I wish instead to bring to light an essen- tial and intrinsic aspect of the performance/spectator relationship as such. This particular aspect depends, in turn, on the asymmetrical and unbal- anced nature of this relationship; for whatever efforts have been and will in the future be made, this relationship can never become one of real equality (see De Marinis 1982, chapter VI, and 1981).

The other side to the theatrical relationship, contemporaneous with the first, consists of an active cooperation by the spectator. More than just a metaphorical coproducer of the performance, the spectator is a relatively autonomous "maker of meanings" for the performance; its cognitive and emotive effects can only be truly actualized by the audience. Of course, the spectator's "cooperation" does not refer to those rare cases which call for an effective, material contribution from the audience, but rather to the intrinsically active nature which makes up the spectator's reception of the performance.

Where both meanings of a "dramaturgy of the spectator" overlap (though in theory perhaps more towards the passive or objective mean- ing) is where we find the questions concerning the notion of a Model Spectator; the theatrical space as a determinant factor in reception; and the structuring of the audience's attention.

The Model Spectator

The pragmatics of how a text-aesthetic or other-actually functions have been studied in various disciplines, and for several years now it has been thought necessary to distinguish between two types of receiver, or more precisely, between two different levels of reception:

I. The extra-textual level of the real (empirical) receiver: This level of

reception consists of the reading strategies which are effectively acti- vated during the comprehension of a text.

2. The intra-textual level of the implied (the hypothetical, ideal, virtual) receiver. This level comprises the strategies within the text, the man- ner of interpretation anticipated by the text and written into it.

We must understand that this implied receiver-Umberto Eco's "Mod- el Reader," whence my "Model Spectator" (Eco I979)-represents a hy- pothetical construct and is simply part of a theoretical metalanguage. The idea is not to see the receptive processes of the empirical receiver as being rigidly preset nor to indicate a normative reading that is somehow opti- mal, relevant, or correct, and to which every real receiver should try to conform.

Eco's Model Reader was proposed as something quite different: it was an attempt to remind us that production and reception are strictly linked, even though they obviously do not altogether coincide. (This runs counter to the arguments of various poststructuralist tendencies such as the "Yale School" of deconstruction which speaks of reading as misread- ing.) It was also an attempt to show in what form this strict link between production and reception may, from time to time, present itself. In other words, it meant being aware that

a text postulates its own receiver as an indispensable condition not only of its own, concrete communicative ability, but also of its own potential for meaning. [ . . . ] A text is a product, the

mance is to persuade or seduce. I wish instead to bring to light an essen- tial and intrinsic aspect of the performance/spectator relationship as such. This particular aspect depends, in turn, on the asymmetrical and unbal- anced nature of this relationship; for whatever efforts have been and will in the future be made, this relationship can never become one of real equality (see De Marinis 1982, chapter VI, and 1981).

The other side to the theatrical relationship, contemporaneous with the first, consists of an active cooperation by the spectator. More than just a metaphorical coproducer of the performance, the spectator is a relatively autonomous "maker of meanings" for the performance; its cognitive and emotive effects can only be truly actualized by the audience. Of course, the spectator's "cooperation" does not refer to those rare cases which call for an effective, material contribution from the audience, but rather to the intrinsically active nature which makes up the spectator's reception of the performance.

Where both meanings of a "dramaturgy of the spectator" overlap (though in theory perhaps more towards the passive or objective mean- ing) is where we find the questions concerning the notion of a Model Spectator; the theatrical space as a determinant factor in reception; and the structuring of the audience's attention.

The Model Spectator

The pragmatics of how a text-aesthetic or other-actually functions have been studied in various disciplines, and for several years now it has been thought necessary to distinguish between two types of receiver, or more precisely, between two different levels of reception:

I. The extra-textual level of the real (empirical) receiver: This level of

reception consists of the reading strategies which are effectively acti- vated during the comprehension of a text.

2. The intra-textual level of the implied (the hypothetical, ideal, virtual) receiver. This level comprises the strategies within the text, the man- ner of interpretation anticipated by the text and written into it.

We must understand that this implied receiver-Umberto Eco's "Mod- el Reader," whence my "Model Spectator" (Eco I979)-represents a hy- pothetical construct and is simply part of a theoretical metalanguage. The idea is not to see the receptive processes of the empirical receiver as being rigidly preset nor to indicate a normative reading that is somehow opti- mal, relevant, or correct, and to which every real receiver should try to conform.

Eco's Model Reader was proposed as something quite different: it was an attempt to remind us that production and reception are strictly linked, even though they obviously do not altogether coincide. (This runs counter to the arguments of various poststructuralist tendencies such as the "Yale School" of deconstruction which speaks of reading as misread- ing.) It was also an attempt to show in what form this strict link between production and reception may, from time to time, present itself. In other words, it meant being aware that

a text postulates its own receiver as an indispensable condition not only of its own, concrete communicative ability, but also of its own potential for meaning. [ . . . ] A text is a product, the

mance is to persuade or seduce. I wish instead to bring to light an essen- tial and intrinsic aspect of the performance/spectator relationship as such. This particular aspect depends, in turn, on the asymmetrical and unbal- anced nature of this relationship; for whatever efforts have been and will in the future be made, this relationship can never become one of real equality (see De Marinis 1982, chapter VI, and 1981).

The other side to the theatrical relationship, contemporaneous with the first, consists of an active cooperation by the spectator. More than just a metaphorical coproducer of the performance, the spectator is a relatively autonomous "maker of meanings" for the performance; its cognitive and emotive effects can only be truly actualized by the audience. Of course, the spectator's "cooperation" does not refer to those rare cases which call for an effective, material contribution from the audience, but rather to the intrinsically active nature which makes up the spectator's reception of the performance.

Where both meanings of a "dramaturgy of the spectator" overlap (though in theory perhaps more towards the passive or objective mean- ing) is where we find the questions concerning the notion of a Model Spectator; the theatrical space as a determinant factor in reception; and the structuring of the audience's attention.

The Model Spectator

The pragmatics of how a text-aesthetic or other-actually functions have been studied in various disciplines, and for several years now it has been thought necessary to distinguish between two types of receiver, or more precisely, between two different levels of reception:

I. The extra-textual level of the real (empirical) receiver: This level of

reception consists of the reading strategies which are effectively acti- vated during the comprehension of a text.

2. The intra-textual level of the implied (the hypothetical, ideal, virtual) receiver. This level comprises the strategies within the text, the man- ner of interpretation anticipated by the text and written into it.

We must understand that this implied receiver-Umberto Eco's "Mod- el Reader," whence my "Model Spectator" (Eco I979)-represents a hy- pothetical construct and is simply part of a theoretical metalanguage. The idea is not to see the receptive processes of the empirical receiver as being rigidly preset nor to indicate a normative reading that is somehow opti- mal, relevant, or correct, and to which every real receiver should try to conform.

Eco's Model Reader was proposed as something quite different: it was an attempt to remind us that production and reception are strictly linked, even though they obviously do not altogether coincide. (This runs counter to the arguments of various poststructuralist tendencies such as the "Yale School" of deconstruction which speaks of reading as misread- ing.) It was also an attempt to show in what form this strict link between production and reception may, from time to time, present itself. In other words, it meant being aware that

a text postulates its own receiver as an indispensable condition not only of its own, concrete communicative ability, but also of its own potential for meaning. [ . . . ] A text is a product, the

mance is to persuade or seduce. I wish instead to bring to light an essen- tial and intrinsic aspect of the performance/spectator relationship as such. This particular aspect depends, in turn, on the asymmetrical and unbal- anced nature of this relationship; for whatever efforts have been and will in the future be made, this relationship can never become one of real equality (see De Marinis 1982, chapter VI, and 1981).

The other side to the theatrical relationship, contemporaneous with the first, consists of an active cooperation by the spectator. More than just a metaphorical coproducer of the performance, the spectator is a relatively autonomous "maker of meanings" for the performance; its cognitive and emotive effects can only be truly actualized by the audience. Of course, the spectator's "cooperation" does not refer to those rare cases which call for an effective, material contribution from the audience, but rather to the intrinsically active nature which makes up the spectator's reception of the performance.

Where both meanings of a "dramaturgy of the spectator" overlap (though in theory perhaps more towards the passive or objective mean- ing) is where we find the questions concerning the notion of a Model Spectator; the theatrical space as a determinant factor in reception; and the structuring of the audience's attention.

The Model Spectator

The pragmatics of how a text-aesthetic or other-actually functions have been studied in various disciplines, and for several years now it has been thought necessary to distinguish between two types of receiver, or more precisely, between two different levels of reception:

I. The extra-textual level of the real (empirical) receiver: This level of

reception consists of the reading strategies which are effectively acti- vated during the comprehension of a text.

2. The intra-textual level of the implied (the hypothetical, ideal, virtual) receiver. This level comprises the strategies within the text, the man- ner of interpretation anticipated by the text and written into it.

We must understand that this implied receiver-Umberto Eco's "Mod- el Reader," whence my "Model Spectator" (Eco I979)-represents a hy- pothetical construct and is simply part of a theoretical metalanguage. The idea is not to see the receptive processes of the empirical receiver as being rigidly preset nor to indicate a normative reading that is somehow opti- mal, relevant, or correct, and to which every real receiver should try to conform.

Eco's Model Reader was proposed as something quite different: it was an attempt to remind us that production and reception are strictly linked, even though they obviously do not altogether coincide. (This runs counter to the arguments of various poststructuralist tendencies such as the "Yale School" of deconstruction which speaks of reading as misread- ing.) It was also an attempt to show in what form this strict link between production and reception may, from time to time, present itself. In other words, it meant being aware that

a text postulates its own receiver as an indispensable condition not only of its own, concrete communicative ability, but also of its own potential for meaning. [ . . . ] A text is a product, the

Page 5: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I03

terpretive fate of which belongs, in part, to its own generating mechanism (Eco I979:52-54).

When I first suggested the notion of a Model Spectator (see De Marinis I982), my objectives were the same as Eco's:

I. to show that production and reception of the performance, even given their reciprocal, partial autonomy, are closely connected;

2. to show exactly in what way and to what degree a performance antici- pates a certain type of spectator (a certain type of reception); that is, to show precisely in what way and to what degree a performance tries to construct/predetermine a certain type of reception, both as a part of its internal structure and as it unfolds. Still following the lead of Eco (I979), I previously considered these two problems in terms of a ty- pology which ranged from "closed" to "open" performances.

Closed performances anticipate a very precise receiver and demand well-defined types of "competence" (encyclopedic, ideological, etc.) for their "correct" reception. This is mostly the case with certain forms of genre-based theatre: political theatre, children's theatre, women's theatre, gay theatre, street theatre, musicals, dance theatre, mime, and so on. In these cases, of course, the performance only "comes off" to the extent that the real audience corresponds to the anticipated one, thus reacting to the performance in the desired way. If, however, a closed performance is performed for a spectator far removed from its Model Spectator, then things will turn out rather differently: imagine, for example, the behavior of an adult at a children's performance; or the reaction of a straitlaced wowser to a slightly risque variety number; or the unprogressive male who finds himself at a feminist performance, etc.

Open performances are at the other end of the continuum. Open per- formances make a point of addressing themselves to a receiver who is neither too precise, nor too clearly defined in terms of their encyclopedic, intertextual, or ideological competence. In a successfully open perfor- mance, the perception and interpretation for which the theatre producers call upon the spectator are not rigidly preset. Rather, aside from unavoid- able textual constraints, the performance will leave the spectator more or less free, though still deciding the extent to which this freedom ought to be controlled-"where it needs to be encouraged, where directed, and where it needs to be transformed into free interpretive speculation" (Eco I979:58). The openness of any given performance text might even be related to, and if possible measured by, the number of performance signs which are based on codes not shared by the spectator (Ruffini I985:32). In this respect, the obvious reference is to experimental theatre or "theatre of research" in all its various forms, from the historical avant-garde and on. A more interesting case, however, would be the example of many non- Western theatre traditions where the normal practice is to leave plenty of interpretive freedom to the audience, and not to impose fixed readings. Forms such as classical Indian theatre, kathakali, Balinese dance-theatre, kabuki, and even the noh plays generally demand varied levels of under- standing and enjoyment; all of these readings are equally legitimate or relevant, though not always of equal importance or value, since they can all trade what is actually there, in the performance, in exchange for some sort of emotional or intellectual gain.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I03

terpretive fate of which belongs, in part, to its own generating mechanism (Eco I979:52-54).

When I first suggested the notion of a Model Spectator (see De Marinis I982), my objectives were the same as Eco's:

I. to show that production and reception of the performance, even given their reciprocal, partial autonomy, are closely connected;

2. to show exactly in what way and to what degree a performance antici- pates a certain type of spectator (a certain type of reception); that is, to show precisely in what way and to what degree a performance tries to construct/predetermine a certain type of reception, both as a part of its internal structure and as it unfolds. Still following the lead of Eco (I979), I previously considered these two problems in terms of a ty- pology which ranged from "closed" to "open" performances.

Closed performances anticipate a very precise receiver and demand well-defined types of "competence" (encyclopedic, ideological, etc.) for their "correct" reception. This is mostly the case with certain forms of genre-based theatre: political theatre, children's theatre, women's theatre, gay theatre, street theatre, musicals, dance theatre, mime, and so on. In these cases, of course, the performance only "comes off" to the extent that the real audience corresponds to the anticipated one, thus reacting to the performance in the desired way. If, however, a closed performance is performed for a spectator far removed from its Model Spectator, then things will turn out rather differently: imagine, for example, the behavior of an adult at a children's performance; or the reaction of a straitlaced wowser to a slightly risque variety number; or the unprogressive male who finds himself at a feminist performance, etc.

Open performances are at the other end of the continuum. Open per- formances make a point of addressing themselves to a receiver who is neither too precise, nor too clearly defined in terms of their encyclopedic, intertextual, or ideological competence. In a successfully open perfor- mance, the perception and interpretation for which the theatre producers call upon the spectator are not rigidly preset. Rather, aside from unavoid- able textual constraints, the performance will leave the spectator more or less free, though still deciding the extent to which this freedom ought to be controlled-"where it needs to be encouraged, where directed, and where it needs to be transformed into free interpretive speculation" (Eco I979:58). The openness of any given performance text might even be related to, and if possible measured by, the number of performance signs which are based on codes not shared by the spectator (Ruffini I985:32). In this respect, the obvious reference is to experimental theatre or "theatre of research" in all its various forms, from the historical avant-garde and on. A more interesting case, however, would be the example of many non- Western theatre traditions where the normal practice is to leave plenty of interpretive freedom to the audience, and not to impose fixed readings. Forms such as classical Indian theatre, kathakali, Balinese dance-theatre, kabuki, and even the noh plays generally demand varied levels of under- standing and enjoyment; all of these readings are equally legitimate or relevant, though not always of equal importance or value, since they can all trade what is actually there, in the performance, in exchange for some sort of emotional or intellectual gain.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I03

terpretive fate of which belongs, in part, to its own generating mechanism (Eco I979:52-54).

When I first suggested the notion of a Model Spectator (see De Marinis I982), my objectives were the same as Eco's:

I. to show that production and reception of the performance, even given their reciprocal, partial autonomy, are closely connected;

2. to show exactly in what way and to what degree a performance antici- pates a certain type of spectator (a certain type of reception); that is, to show precisely in what way and to what degree a performance tries to construct/predetermine a certain type of reception, both as a part of its internal structure and as it unfolds. Still following the lead of Eco (I979), I previously considered these two problems in terms of a ty- pology which ranged from "closed" to "open" performances.

Closed performances anticipate a very precise receiver and demand well-defined types of "competence" (encyclopedic, ideological, etc.) for their "correct" reception. This is mostly the case with certain forms of genre-based theatre: political theatre, children's theatre, women's theatre, gay theatre, street theatre, musicals, dance theatre, mime, and so on. In these cases, of course, the performance only "comes off" to the extent that the real audience corresponds to the anticipated one, thus reacting to the performance in the desired way. If, however, a closed performance is performed for a spectator far removed from its Model Spectator, then things will turn out rather differently: imagine, for example, the behavior of an adult at a children's performance; or the reaction of a straitlaced wowser to a slightly risque variety number; or the unprogressive male who finds himself at a feminist performance, etc.

Open performances are at the other end of the continuum. Open per- formances make a point of addressing themselves to a receiver who is neither too precise, nor too clearly defined in terms of their encyclopedic, intertextual, or ideological competence. In a successfully open perfor- mance, the perception and interpretation for which the theatre producers call upon the spectator are not rigidly preset. Rather, aside from unavoid- able textual constraints, the performance will leave the spectator more or less free, though still deciding the extent to which this freedom ought to be controlled-"where it needs to be encouraged, where directed, and where it needs to be transformed into free interpretive speculation" (Eco I979:58). The openness of any given performance text might even be related to, and if possible measured by, the number of performance signs which are based on codes not shared by the spectator (Ruffini I985:32). In this respect, the obvious reference is to experimental theatre or "theatre of research" in all its various forms, from the historical avant-garde and on. A more interesting case, however, would be the example of many non- Western theatre traditions where the normal practice is to leave plenty of interpretive freedom to the audience, and not to impose fixed readings. Forms such as classical Indian theatre, kathakali, Balinese dance-theatre, kabuki, and even the noh plays generally demand varied levels of under- standing and enjoyment; all of these readings are equally legitimate or relevant, though not always of equal importance or value, since they can all trade what is actually there, in the performance, in exchange for some sort of emotional or intellectual gain.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I03

terpretive fate of which belongs, in part, to its own generating mechanism (Eco I979:52-54).

When I first suggested the notion of a Model Spectator (see De Marinis I982), my objectives were the same as Eco's:

I. to show that production and reception of the performance, even given their reciprocal, partial autonomy, are closely connected;

2. to show exactly in what way and to what degree a performance antici- pates a certain type of spectator (a certain type of reception); that is, to show precisely in what way and to what degree a performance tries to construct/predetermine a certain type of reception, both as a part of its internal structure and as it unfolds. Still following the lead of Eco (I979), I previously considered these two problems in terms of a ty- pology which ranged from "closed" to "open" performances.

Closed performances anticipate a very precise receiver and demand well-defined types of "competence" (encyclopedic, ideological, etc.) for their "correct" reception. This is mostly the case with certain forms of genre-based theatre: political theatre, children's theatre, women's theatre, gay theatre, street theatre, musicals, dance theatre, mime, and so on. In these cases, of course, the performance only "comes off" to the extent that the real audience corresponds to the anticipated one, thus reacting to the performance in the desired way. If, however, a closed performance is performed for a spectator far removed from its Model Spectator, then things will turn out rather differently: imagine, for example, the behavior of an adult at a children's performance; or the reaction of a straitlaced wowser to a slightly risque variety number; or the unprogressive male who finds himself at a feminist performance, etc.

Open performances are at the other end of the continuum. Open per- formances make a point of addressing themselves to a receiver who is neither too precise, nor too clearly defined in terms of their encyclopedic, intertextual, or ideological competence. In a successfully open perfor- mance, the perception and interpretation for which the theatre producers call upon the spectator are not rigidly preset. Rather, aside from unavoid- able textual constraints, the performance will leave the spectator more or less free, though still deciding the extent to which this freedom ought to be controlled-"where it needs to be encouraged, where directed, and where it needs to be transformed into free interpretive speculation" (Eco I979:58). The openness of any given performance text might even be related to, and if possible measured by, the number of performance signs which are based on codes not shared by the spectator (Ruffini I985:32). In this respect, the obvious reference is to experimental theatre or "theatre of research" in all its various forms, from the historical avant-garde and on. A more interesting case, however, would be the example of many non- Western theatre traditions where the normal practice is to leave plenty of interpretive freedom to the audience, and not to impose fixed readings. Forms such as classical Indian theatre, kathakali, Balinese dance-theatre, kabuki, and even the noh plays generally demand varied levels of under- standing and enjoyment; all of these readings are equally legitimate or relevant, though not always of equal importance or value, since they can all trade what is actually there, in the performance, in exchange for some sort of emotional or intellectual gain.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I03

terpretive fate of which belongs, in part, to its own generating mechanism (Eco I979:52-54).

When I first suggested the notion of a Model Spectator (see De Marinis I982), my objectives were the same as Eco's:

I. to show that production and reception of the performance, even given their reciprocal, partial autonomy, are closely connected;

2. to show exactly in what way and to what degree a performance antici- pates a certain type of spectator (a certain type of reception); that is, to show precisely in what way and to what degree a performance tries to construct/predetermine a certain type of reception, both as a part of its internal structure and as it unfolds. Still following the lead of Eco (I979), I previously considered these two problems in terms of a ty- pology which ranged from "closed" to "open" performances.

Closed performances anticipate a very precise receiver and demand well-defined types of "competence" (encyclopedic, ideological, etc.) for their "correct" reception. This is mostly the case with certain forms of genre-based theatre: political theatre, children's theatre, women's theatre, gay theatre, street theatre, musicals, dance theatre, mime, and so on. In these cases, of course, the performance only "comes off" to the extent that the real audience corresponds to the anticipated one, thus reacting to the performance in the desired way. If, however, a closed performance is performed for a spectator far removed from its Model Spectator, then things will turn out rather differently: imagine, for example, the behavior of an adult at a children's performance; or the reaction of a straitlaced wowser to a slightly risque variety number; or the unprogressive male who finds himself at a feminist performance, etc.

Open performances are at the other end of the continuum. Open per- formances make a point of addressing themselves to a receiver who is neither too precise, nor too clearly defined in terms of their encyclopedic, intertextual, or ideological competence. In a successfully open perfor- mance, the perception and interpretation for which the theatre producers call upon the spectator are not rigidly preset. Rather, aside from unavoid- able textual constraints, the performance will leave the spectator more or less free, though still deciding the extent to which this freedom ought to be controlled-"where it needs to be encouraged, where directed, and where it needs to be transformed into free interpretive speculation" (Eco I979:58). The openness of any given performance text might even be related to, and if possible measured by, the number of performance signs which are based on codes not shared by the spectator (Ruffini I985:32). In this respect, the obvious reference is to experimental theatre or "theatre of research" in all its various forms, from the historical avant-garde and on. A more interesting case, however, would be the example of many non- Western theatre traditions where the normal practice is to leave plenty of interpretive freedom to the audience, and not to impose fixed readings. Forms such as classical Indian theatre, kathakali, Balinese dance-theatre, kabuki, and even the noh plays generally demand varied levels of under- standing and enjoyment; all of these readings are equally legitimate or relevant, though not always of equal importance or value, since they can all trade what is actually there, in the performance, in exchange for some sort of emotional or intellectual gain.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I03

terpretive fate of which belongs, in part, to its own generating mechanism (Eco I979:52-54).

When I first suggested the notion of a Model Spectator (see De Marinis I982), my objectives were the same as Eco's:

I. to show that production and reception of the performance, even given their reciprocal, partial autonomy, are closely connected;

2. to show exactly in what way and to what degree a performance antici- pates a certain type of spectator (a certain type of reception); that is, to show precisely in what way and to what degree a performance tries to construct/predetermine a certain type of reception, both as a part of its internal structure and as it unfolds. Still following the lead of Eco (I979), I previously considered these two problems in terms of a ty- pology which ranged from "closed" to "open" performances.

Closed performances anticipate a very precise receiver and demand well-defined types of "competence" (encyclopedic, ideological, etc.) for their "correct" reception. This is mostly the case with certain forms of genre-based theatre: political theatre, children's theatre, women's theatre, gay theatre, street theatre, musicals, dance theatre, mime, and so on. In these cases, of course, the performance only "comes off" to the extent that the real audience corresponds to the anticipated one, thus reacting to the performance in the desired way. If, however, a closed performance is performed for a spectator far removed from its Model Spectator, then things will turn out rather differently: imagine, for example, the behavior of an adult at a children's performance; or the reaction of a straitlaced wowser to a slightly risque variety number; or the unprogressive male who finds himself at a feminist performance, etc.

Open performances are at the other end of the continuum. Open per- formances make a point of addressing themselves to a receiver who is neither too precise, nor too clearly defined in terms of their encyclopedic, intertextual, or ideological competence. In a successfully open perfor- mance, the perception and interpretation for which the theatre producers call upon the spectator are not rigidly preset. Rather, aside from unavoid- able textual constraints, the performance will leave the spectator more or less free, though still deciding the extent to which this freedom ought to be controlled-"where it needs to be encouraged, where directed, and where it needs to be transformed into free interpretive speculation" (Eco I979:58). The openness of any given performance text might even be related to, and if possible measured by, the number of performance signs which are based on codes not shared by the spectator (Ruffini I985:32). In this respect, the obvious reference is to experimental theatre or "theatre of research" in all its various forms, from the historical avant-garde and on. A more interesting case, however, would be the example of many non- Western theatre traditions where the normal practice is to leave plenty of interpretive freedom to the audience, and not to impose fixed readings. Forms such as classical Indian theatre, kathakali, Balinese dance-theatre, kabuki, and even the noh plays generally demand varied levels of under- standing and enjoyment; all of these readings are equally legitimate or relevant, though not always of equal importance or value, since they can all trade what is actually there, in the performance, in exchange for some sort of emotional or intellectual gain.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I03

terpretive fate of which belongs, in part, to its own generating mechanism (Eco I979:52-54).

When I first suggested the notion of a Model Spectator (see De Marinis I982), my objectives were the same as Eco's:

I. to show that production and reception of the performance, even given their reciprocal, partial autonomy, are closely connected;

2. to show exactly in what way and to what degree a performance antici- pates a certain type of spectator (a certain type of reception); that is, to show precisely in what way and to what degree a performance tries to construct/predetermine a certain type of reception, both as a part of its internal structure and as it unfolds. Still following the lead of Eco (I979), I previously considered these two problems in terms of a ty- pology which ranged from "closed" to "open" performances.

Closed performances anticipate a very precise receiver and demand well-defined types of "competence" (encyclopedic, ideological, etc.) for their "correct" reception. This is mostly the case with certain forms of genre-based theatre: political theatre, children's theatre, women's theatre, gay theatre, street theatre, musicals, dance theatre, mime, and so on. In these cases, of course, the performance only "comes off" to the extent that the real audience corresponds to the anticipated one, thus reacting to the performance in the desired way. If, however, a closed performance is performed for a spectator far removed from its Model Spectator, then things will turn out rather differently: imagine, for example, the behavior of an adult at a children's performance; or the reaction of a straitlaced wowser to a slightly risque variety number; or the unprogressive male who finds himself at a feminist performance, etc.

Open performances are at the other end of the continuum. Open per- formances make a point of addressing themselves to a receiver who is neither too precise, nor too clearly defined in terms of their encyclopedic, intertextual, or ideological competence. In a successfully open perfor- mance, the perception and interpretation for which the theatre producers call upon the spectator are not rigidly preset. Rather, aside from unavoid- able textual constraints, the performance will leave the spectator more or less free, though still deciding the extent to which this freedom ought to be controlled-"where it needs to be encouraged, where directed, and where it needs to be transformed into free interpretive speculation" (Eco I979:58). The openness of any given performance text might even be related to, and if possible measured by, the number of performance signs which are based on codes not shared by the spectator (Ruffini I985:32). In this respect, the obvious reference is to experimental theatre or "theatre of research" in all its various forms, from the historical avant-garde and on. A more interesting case, however, would be the example of many non- Western theatre traditions where the normal practice is to leave plenty of interpretive freedom to the audience, and not to impose fixed readings. Forms such as classical Indian theatre, kathakali, Balinese dance-theatre, kabuki, and even the noh plays generally demand varied levels of under- standing and enjoyment; all of these readings are equally legitimate or relevant, though not always of equal importance or value, since they can all trade what is actually there, in the performance, in exchange for some sort of emotional or intellectual gain.

Page 6: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

104 Marco De Marinis 104 Marco De Marinis 104 Marco De Marinis 104 Marco De Marinis 104 Marco De Marinis 104 Marco De Marinis 104 Marco De Marinis

Obviously, at this point, the category "open performances" becomes unwieldy since it must incorporate many diverse strategies for dealing with spectators and predetermining their understanding of the perfor- mance. Hence, we must make a distinction between two types of open performance.

On the one hand, there are avant-garde or experimental performance texts whose "openness"-their highly indeterminate makeup and loose fixing of reading strategies-does not correspond to any real increase in the range and type of desired spectator, but which leads rather to a more or less drastic reduction in range. This reduction occurs when the cooper- ation asked of an audience in filling in "gaps" in the performance text- thus, actualizing the text's semantic and communicative potential-also requires a spectator to possess a range of encyclopedic, intertextual, and ideological competence which is anything but standard. In this sense, as Eco has said, there is nothing more closed than an "open" work (un' opera aperta). James Joyce's Finnegans Wake, which is one of the most "open" texts in world literature because of the great mass of work its countless "blanks" leave for the reader to fill in, also drastically limits the number and type of readers able to successfully join in its semantic and communi- cative actualization.

On the other hand, we also find performance texts and theatre forms where this opening up of interpretive possibilities does correspond to a real openness of reception; the openness leads to a real increase in the number of "authorized" spectators and in the types of reception allowed for and compatible with the performance text. For example, traditional Indian theatre-according to the theoretical treatment of it in the Natya- sastra-was devised so that individual audience members could find in it whatever interested them most, without abusing or misunderstanding the drama in the process (see Ghosh I967). I believe it is precisely on this level that we find the main difference between experimental or avant- garde theatre and the ground now occupied by the international New Theatre which, a few years ago, Eugenio Barba suggested calling the "Third Theatre." The theatre of the avant-garde, while staunchly oppos- ing the passive and standardized means of consumption found in main- stream theatre, has often ended up producing esoteric works reserved for a select band of "supercompetent" theatregoers. However, in Barba's "Third Theatre" the aim-though not always achieved-has been to cre- ate performances which might allow a real plurality of reception or view- ings which are equal to one another.

So far, I have said little regarding the actual means-the strategies and techniques-by which a performance builds into its textual structure and anticipates a certain type of reception, a clearly determined attitude which the spectator may hold towards the performance. Among the many ele- ments that make up the dramatic spectator used by the producers of the- atre in respect to the spectator, I will now consider two interrelated elements of decisive importance.

Manipulation of the Theatrical Space and of the Physical Performance/Spectator Relationship

Among theatre practitioners it has long been known that the actual placement of the spectators within the theatrical space and their relation to the playing area are central to the way in which the performance is received. In this context, there is a mass of theoretical and practical guide-

Obviously, at this point, the category "open performances" becomes unwieldy since it must incorporate many diverse strategies for dealing with spectators and predetermining their understanding of the perfor- mance. Hence, we must make a distinction between two types of open performance.

On the one hand, there are avant-garde or experimental performance texts whose "openness"-their highly indeterminate makeup and loose fixing of reading strategies-does not correspond to any real increase in the range and type of desired spectator, but which leads rather to a more or less drastic reduction in range. This reduction occurs when the cooper- ation asked of an audience in filling in "gaps" in the performance text- thus, actualizing the text's semantic and communicative potential-also requires a spectator to possess a range of encyclopedic, intertextual, and ideological competence which is anything but standard. In this sense, as Eco has said, there is nothing more closed than an "open" work (un' opera aperta). James Joyce's Finnegans Wake, which is one of the most "open" texts in world literature because of the great mass of work its countless "blanks" leave for the reader to fill in, also drastically limits the number and type of readers able to successfully join in its semantic and communi- cative actualization.

On the other hand, we also find performance texts and theatre forms where this opening up of interpretive possibilities does correspond to a real openness of reception; the openness leads to a real increase in the number of "authorized" spectators and in the types of reception allowed for and compatible with the performance text. For example, traditional Indian theatre-according to the theoretical treatment of it in the Natya- sastra-was devised so that individual audience members could find in it whatever interested them most, without abusing or misunderstanding the drama in the process (see Ghosh I967). I believe it is precisely on this level that we find the main difference between experimental or avant- garde theatre and the ground now occupied by the international New Theatre which, a few years ago, Eugenio Barba suggested calling the "Third Theatre." The theatre of the avant-garde, while staunchly oppos- ing the passive and standardized means of consumption found in main- stream theatre, has often ended up producing esoteric works reserved for a select band of "supercompetent" theatregoers. However, in Barba's "Third Theatre" the aim-though not always achieved-has been to cre- ate performances which might allow a real plurality of reception or view- ings which are equal to one another.

So far, I have said little regarding the actual means-the strategies and techniques-by which a performance builds into its textual structure and anticipates a certain type of reception, a clearly determined attitude which the spectator may hold towards the performance. Among the many ele- ments that make up the dramatic spectator used by the producers of the- atre in respect to the spectator, I will now consider two interrelated elements of decisive importance.

Manipulation of the Theatrical Space and of the Physical Performance/Spectator Relationship

Among theatre practitioners it has long been known that the actual placement of the spectators within the theatrical space and their relation to the playing area are central to the way in which the performance is received. In this context, there is a mass of theoretical and practical guide-

Obviously, at this point, the category "open performances" becomes unwieldy since it must incorporate many diverse strategies for dealing with spectators and predetermining their understanding of the perfor- mance. Hence, we must make a distinction between two types of open performance.

On the one hand, there are avant-garde or experimental performance texts whose "openness"-their highly indeterminate makeup and loose fixing of reading strategies-does not correspond to any real increase in the range and type of desired spectator, but which leads rather to a more or less drastic reduction in range. This reduction occurs when the cooper- ation asked of an audience in filling in "gaps" in the performance text- thus, actualizing the text's semantic and communicative potential-also requires a spectator to possess a range of encyclopedic, intertextual, and ideological competence which is anything but standard. In this sense, as Eco has said, there is nothing more closed than an "open" work (un' opera aperta). James Joyce's Finnegans Wake, which is one of the most "open" texts in world literature because of the great mass of work its countless "blanks" leave for the reader to fill in, also drastically limits the number and type of readers able to successfully join in its semantic and communi- cative actualization.

On the other hand, we also find performance texts and theatre forms where this opening up of interpretive possibilities does correspond to a real openness of reception; the openness leads to a real increase in the number of "authorized" spectators and in the types of reception allowed for and compatible with the performance text. For example, traditional Indian theatre-according to the theoretical treatment of it in the Natya- sastra-was devised so that individual audience members could find in it whatever interested them most, without abusing or misunderstanding the drama in the process (see Ghosh I967). I believe it is precisely on this level that we find the main difference between experimental or avant- garde theatre and the ground now occupied by the international New Theatre which, a few years ago, Eugenio Barba suggested calling the "Third Theatre." The theatre of the avant-garde, while staunchly oppos- ing the passive and standardized means of consumption found in main- stream theatre, has often ended up producing esoteric works reserved for a select band of "supercompetent" theatregoers. However, in Barba's "Third Theatre" the aim-though not always achieved-has been to cre- ate performances which might allow a real plurality of reception or view- ings which are equal to one another.

So far, I have said little regarding the actual means-the strategies and techniques-by which a performance builds into its textual structure and anticipates a certain type of reception, a clearly determined attitude which the spectator may hold towards the performance. Among the many ele- ments that make up the dramatic spectator used by the producers of the- atre in respect to the spectator, I will now consider two interrelated elements of decisive importance.

Manipulation of the Theatrical Space and of the Physical Performance/Spectator Relationship

Among theatre practitioners it has long been known that the actual placement of the spectators within the theatrical space and their relation to the playing area are central to the way in which the performance is received. In this context, there is a mass of theoretical and practical guide-

Obviously, at this point, the category "open performances" becomes unwieldy since it must incorporate many diverse strategies for dealing with spectators and predetermining their understanding of the perfor- mance. Hence, we must make a distinction between two types of open performance.

On the one hand, there are avant-garde or experimental performance texts whose "openness"-their highly indeterminate makeup and loose fixing of reading strategies-does not correspond to any real increase in the range and type of desired spectator, but which leads rather to a more or less drastic reduction in range. This reduction occurs when the cooper- ation asked of an audience in filling in "gaps" in the performance text- thus, actualizing the text's semantic and communicative potential-also requires a spectator to possess a range of encyclopedic, intertextual, and ideological competence which is anything but standard. In this sense, as Eco has said, there is nothing more closed than an "open" work (un' opera aperta). James Joyce's Finnegans Wake, which is one of the most "open" texts in world literature because of the great mass of work its countless "blanks" leave for the reader to fill in, also drastically limits the number and type of readers able to successfully join in its semantic and communi- cative actualization.

On the other hand, we also find performance texts and theatre forms where this opening up of interpretive possibilities does correspond to a real openness of reception; the openness leads to a real increase in the number of "authorized" spectators and in the types of reception allowed for and compatible with the performance text. For example, traditional Indian theatre-according to the theoretical treatment of it in the Natya- sastra-was devised so that individual audience members could find in it whatever interested them most, without abusing or misunderstanding the drama in the process (see Ghosh I967). I believe it is precisely on this level that we find the main difference between experimental or avant- garde theatre and the ground now occupied by the international New Theatre which, a few years ago, Eugenio Barba suggested calling the "Third Theatre." The theatre of the avant-garde, while staunchly oppos- ing the passive and standardized means of consumption found in main- stream theatre, has often ended up producing esoteric works reserved for a select band of "supercompetent" theatregoers. However, in Barba's "Third Theatre" the aim-though not always achieved-has been to cre- ate performances which might allow a real plurality of reception or view- ings which are equal to one another.

So far, I have said little regarding the actual means-the strategies and techniques-by which a performance builds into its textual structure and anticipates a certain type of reception, a clearly determined attitude which the spectator may hold towards the performance. Among the many ele- ments that make up the dramatic spectator used by the producers of the- atre in respect to the spectator, I will now consider two interrelated elements of decisive importance.

Manipulation of the Theatrical Space and of the Physical Performance/Spectator Relationship

Among theatre practitioners it has long been known that the actual placement of the spectators within the theatrical space and their relation to the playing area are central to the way in which the performance is received. In this context, there is a mass of theoretical and practical guide-

Obviously, at this point, the category "open performances" becomes unwieldy since it must incorporate many diverse strategies for dealing with spectators and predetermining their understanding of the perfor- mance. Hence, we must make a distinction between two types of open performance.

On the one hand, there are avant-garde or experimental performance texts whose "openness"-their highly indeterminate makeup and loose fixing of reading strategies-does not correspond to any real increase in the range and type of desired spectator, but which leads rather to a more or less drastic reduction in range. This reduction occurs when the cooper- ation asked of an audience in filling in "gaps" in the performance text- thus, actualizing the text's semantic and communicative potential-also requires a spectator to possess a range of encyclopedic, intertextual, and ideological competence which is anything but standard. In this sense, as Eco has said, there is nothing more closed than an "open" work (un' opera aperta). James Joyce's Finnegans Wake, which is one of the most "open" texts in world literature because of the great mass of work its countless "blanks" leave for the reader to fill in, also drastically limits the number and type of readers able to successfully join in its semantic and communi- cative actualization.

On the other hand, we also find performance texts and theatre forms where this opening up of interpretive possibilities does correspond to a real openness of reception; the openness leads to a real increase in the number of "authorized" spectators and in the types of reception allowed for and compatible with the performance text. For example, traditional Indian theatre-according to the theoretical treatment of it in the Natya- sastra-was devised so that individual audience members could find in it whatever interested them most, without abusing or misunderstanding the drama in the process (see Ghosh I967). I believe it is precisely on this level that we find the main difference between experimental or avant- garde theatre and the ground now occupied by the international New Theatre which, a few years ago, Eugenio Barba suggested calling the "Third Theatre." The theatre of the avant-garde, while staunchly oppos- ing the passive and standardized means of consumption found in main- stream theatre, has often ended up producing esoteric works reserved for a select band of "supercompetent" theatregoers. However, in Barba's "Third Theatre" the aim-though not always achieved-has been to cre- ate performances which might allow a real plurality of reception or view- ings which are equal to one another.

So far, I have said little regarding the actual means-the strategies and techniques-by which a performance builds into its textual structure and anticipates a certain type of reception, a clearly determined attitude which the spectator may hold towards the performance. Among the many ele- ments that make up the dramatic spectator used by the producers of the- atre in respect to the spectator, I will now consider two interrelated elements of decisive importance.

Manipulation of the Theatrical Space and of the Physical Performance/Spectator Relationship

Among theatre practitioners it has long been known that the actual placement of the spectators within the theatrical space and their relation to the playing area are central to the way in which the performance is received. In this context, there is a mass of theoretical and practical guide-

Obviously, at this point, the category "open performances" becomes unwieldy since it must incorporate many diverse strategies for dealing with spectators and predetermining their understanding of the perfor- mance. Hence, we must make a distinction between two types of open performance.

On the one hand, there are avant-garde or experimental performance texts whose "openness"-their highly indeterminate makeup and loose fixing of reading strategies-does not correspond to any real increase in the range and type of desired spectator, but which leads rather to a more or less drastic reduction in range. This reduction occurs when the cooper- ation asked of an audience in filling in "gaps" in the performance text- thus, actualizing the text's semantic and communicative potential-also requires a spectator to possess a range of encyclopedic, intertextual, and ideological competence which is anything but standard. In this sense, as Eco has said, there is nothing more closed than an "open" work (un' opera aperta). James Joyce's Finnegans Wake, which is one of the most "open" texts in world literature because of the great mass of work its countless "blanks" leave for the reader to fill in, also drastically limits the number and type of readers able to successfully join in its semantic and communi- cative actualization.

On the other hand, we also find performance texts and theatre forms where this opening up of interpretive possibilities does correspond to a real openness of reception; the openness leads to a real increase in the number of "authorized" spectators and in the types of reception allowed for and compatible with the performance text. For example, traditional Indian theatre-according to the theoretical treatment of it in the Natya- sastra-was devised so that individual audience members could find in it whatever interested them most, without abusing or misunderstanding the drama in the process (see Ghosh I967). I believe it is precisely on this level that we find the main difference between experimental or avant- garde theatre and the ground now occupied by the international New Theatre which, a few years ago, Eugenio Barba suggested calling the "Third Theatre." The theatre of the avant-garde, while staunchly oppos- ing the passive and standardized means of consumption found in main- stream theatre, has often ended up producing esoteric works reserved for a select band of "supercompetent" theatregoers. However, in Barba's "Third Theatre" the aim-though not always achieved-has been to cre- ate performances which might allow a real plurality of reception or view- ings which are equal to one another.

So far, I have said little regarding the actual means-the strategies and techniques-by which a performance builds into its textual structure and anticipates a certain type of reception, a clearly determined attitude which the spectator may hold towards the performance. Among the many ele- ments that make up the dramatic spectator used by the producers of the- atre in respect to the spectator, I will now consider two interrelated elements of decisive importance.

Manipulation of the Theatrical Space and of the Physical Performance/Spectator Relationship

Among theatre practitioners it has long been known that the actual placement of the spectators within the theatrical space and their relation to the playing area are central to the way in which the performance is received. In this context, there is a mass of theoretical and practical guide-

Obviously, at this point, the category "open performances" becomes unwieldy since it must incorporate many diverse strategies for dealing with spectators and predetermining their understanding of the perfor- mance. Hence, we must make a distinction between two types of open performance.

On the one hand, there are avant-garde or experimental performance texts whose "openness"-their highly indeterminate makeup and loose fixing of reading strategies-does not correspond to any real increase in the range and type of desired spectator, but which leads rather to a more or less drastic reduction in range. This reduction occurs when the cooper- ation asked of an audience in filling in "gaps" in the performance text- thus, actualizing the text's semantic and communicative potential-also requires a spectator to possess a range of encyclopedic, intertextual, and ideological competence which is anything but standard. In this sense, as Eco has said, there is nothing more closed than an "open" work (un' opera aperta). James Joyce's Finnegans Wake, which is one of the most "open" texts in world literature because of the great mass of work its countless "blanks" leave for the reader to fill in, also drastically limits the number and type of readers able to successfully join in its semantic and communi- cative actualization.

On the other hand, we also find performance texts and theatre forms where this opening up of interpretive possibilities does correspond to a real openness of reception; the openness leads to a real increase in the number of "authorized" spectators and in the types of reception allowed for and compatible with the performance text. For example, traditional Indian theatre-according to the theoretical treatment of it in the Natya- sastra-was devised so that individual audience members could find in it whatever interested them most, without abusing or misunderstanding the drama in the process (see Ghosh I967). I believe it is precisely on this level that we find the main difference between experimental or avant- garde theatre and the ground now occupied by the international New Theatre which, a few years ago, Eugenio Barba suggested calling the "Third Theatre." The theatre of the avant-garde, while staunchly oppos- ing the passive and standardized means of consumption found in main- stream theatre, has often ended up producing esoteric works reserved for a select band of "supercompetent" theatregoers. However, in Barba's "Third Theatre" the aim-though not always achieved-has been to cre- ate performances which might allow a real plurality of reception or view- ings which are equal to one another.

So far, I have said little regarding the actual means-the strategies and techniques-by which a performance builds into its textual structure and anticipates a certain type of reception, a clearly determined attitude which the spectator may hold towards the performance. Among the many ele- ments that make up the dramatic spectator used by the producers of the- atre in respect to the spectator, I will now consider two interrelated elements of decisive importance.

Manipulation of the Theatrical Space and of the Physical Performance/Spectator Relationship

Among theatre practitioners it has long been known that the actual placement of the spectators within the theatrical space and their relation to the playing area are central to the way in which the performance is received. In this context, there is a mass of theoretical and practical guide-

Page 7: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the Spectator Io5

lines concerning perspective scenery which abounded throughout the I6th century in Italy. By the end of the Igth century and coinciding with the rise of the director, there was an increasingly urgent need for changes to the theatrical norms of that time. The passive and unquestioned pro- cess of unification that the mimetic performance rules of Naturalism had proposed, or rather imposed via the staging, was first to go. This initial modification was effected by manipulating the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship. The changes took two forms: first, a breaking out from the "Italian" stage, the boite aux illusions with its neat separation between a raised stage and the stalls, both of which were laid out facing one another straight-on; and second, a search for various alternative spatial arrangements that might dispose of this frontal relationship and the distance between performance and spectator: a search, above all, for ways of bringing the two as close together as possi- ble (for example, those theatres with a central design where the audience surrounds the playing area like Gropius' "total theatre," or the opposite solution tried by Antonin Artaud at the Theatre Alfred Jarry, where the spectator is surrounded by the performance).

In this way, not only the shape of the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship changed, but also, in the most radical solutions, the performance itself now literally passed from view. Pre- viously, the performance had appeared as a unitary object to be grasped whole by the onlooker. This had led to the unitary model of performance usage that for centuries had been the basis of Western theatre. Now, however, this unitary model entered a deep crisis. In many cases the spec- tators were forced to acknowledge the irredeemably partial and subjective nature of their experience of the performance; this experience was now strictly conditioned by their material position, their point of observation. The same audience member occupying different places on different nights would see, literally, a different performance. Not only would the specta- tor's interpretation be altered but also, and above all, her/his emotional and intellectual reactions would alter. Obvious examples are the '6os' Happenings, plays like Luca Ronconi's Orlando Furioso (1969) and Ariane Mnouchkine's 1789 (1970) at the Theatre du Soleil, and Grotowski's work; however, there is also a whole body of "research theatre" work of the '6os and '7os with fundamentally the same aim.

The post-World War II theatre of research went furthest in trying to exploit the possibilities for conditioning reception inherent in the manipu- lation of the stage space, and especially the physical relation of perfor- mance to spectator. Often, traditional "Italian" theatres were passed over in favor of environments which, though not originally theatrical spaces, allowed the performance/spectator relationship to be organized as needed, in the most suitable or convenient way. The common goal was specifical- ly to favor a more active, engaged, and creative reception by audience members.

One extreme form taken by this research might be defined as: The use of the spectator as an element of the performance and her/his assumption into the dramatic fiction. It was not enough simply to remove all divi- sions between performer and spectator by interspersing the two, or by having the performers use all parts of the space, often performing directly in the audience (as did the Living Theatre in the '6os). In order to maxi- mize the spectator's involvement on an emotional and intellectual level, attempts were made even to give them a role, albeit a marginal one, within the performance itself. This is exactly what happened in the Living

Dramaturgy of the Spectator Io5

lines concerning perspective scenery which abounded throughout the I6th century in Italy. By the end of the Igth century and coinciding with the rise of the director, there was an increasingly urgent need for changes to the theatrical norms of that time. The passive and unquestioned pro- cess of unification that the mimetic performance rules of Naturalism had proposed, or rather imposed via the staging, was first to go. This initial modification was effected by manipulating the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship. The changes took two forms: first, a breaking out from the "Italian" stage, the boite aux illusions with its neat separation between a raised stage and the stalls, both of which were laid out facing one another straight-on; and second, a search for various alternative spatial arrangements that might dispose of this frontal relationship and the distance between performance and spectator: a search, above all, for ways of bringing the two as close together as possi- ble (for example, those theatres with a central design where the audience surrounds the playing area like Gropius' "total theatre," or the opposite solution tried by Antonin Artaud at the Theatre Alfred Jarry, where the spectator is surrounded by the performance).

In this way, not only the shape of the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship changed, but also, in the most radical solutions, the performance itself now literally passed from view. Pre- viously, the performance had appeared as a unitary object to be grasped whole by the onlooker. This had led to the unitary model of performance usage that for centuries had been the basis of Western theatre. Now, however, this unitary model entered a deep crisis. In many cases the spec- tators were forced to acknowledge the irredeemably partial and subjective nature of their experience of the performance; this experience was now strictly conditioned by their material position, their point of observation. The same audience member occupying different places on different nights would see, literally, a different performance. Not only would the specta- tor's interpretation be altered but also, and above all, her/his emotional and intellectual reactions would alter. Obvious examples are the '6os' Happenings, plays like Luca Ronconi's Orlando Furioso (1969) and Ariane Mnouchkine's 1789 (1970) at the Theatre du Soleil, and Grotowski's work; however, there is also a whole body of "research theatre" work of the '6os and '7os with fundamentally the same aim.

The post-World War II theatre of research went furthest in trying to exploit the possibilities for conditioning reception inherent in the manipu- lation of the stage space, and especially the physical relation of perfor- mance to spectator. Often, traditional "Italian" theatres were passed over in favor of environments which, though not originally theatrical spaces, allowed the performance/spectator relationship to be organized as needed, in the most suitable or convenient way. The common goal was specifical- ly to favor a more active, engaged, and creative reception by audience members.

One extreme form taken by this research might be defined as: The use of the spectator as an element of the performance and her/his assumption into the dramatic fiction. It was not enough simply to remove all divi- sions between performer and spectator by interspersing the two, or by having the performers use all parts of the space, often performing directly in the audience (as did the Living Theatre in the '6os). In order to maxi- mize the spectator's involvement on an emotional and intellectual level, attempts were made even to give them a role, albeit a marginal one, within the performance itself. This is exactly what happened in the Living

Dramaturgy of the Spectator Io5

lines concerning perspective scenery which abounded throughout the I6th century in Italy. By the end of the Igth century and coinciding with the rise of the director, there was an increasingly urgent need for changes to the theatrical norms of that time. The passive and unquestioned pro- cess of unification that the mimetic performance rules of Naturalism had proposed, or rather imposed via the staging, was first to go. This initial modification was effected by manipulating the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship. The changes took two forms: first, a breaking out from the "Italian" stage, the boite aux illusions with its neat separation between a raised stage and the stalls, both of which were laid out facing one another straight-on; and second, a search for various alternative spatial arrangements that might dispose of this frontal relationship and the distance between performance and spectator: a search, above all, for ways of bringing the two as close together as possi- ble (for example, those theatres with a central design where the audience surrounds the playing area like Gropius' "total theatre," or the opposite solution tried by Antonin Artaud at the Theatre Alfred Jarry, where the spectator is surrounded by the performance).

In this way, not only the shape of the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship changed, but also, in the most radical solutions, the performance itself now literally passed from view. Pre- viously, the performance had appeared as a unitary object to be grasped whole by the onlooker. This had led to the unitary model of performance usage that for centuries had been the basis of Western theatre. Now, however, this unitary model entered a deep crisis. In many cases the spec- tators were forced to acknowledge the irredeemably partial and subjective nature of their experience of the performance; this experience was now strictly conditioned by their material position, their point of observation. The same audience member occupying different places on different nights would see, literally, a different performance. Not only would the specta- tor's interpretation be altered but also, and above all, her/his emotional and intellectual reactions would alter. Obvious examples are the '6os' Happenings, plays like Luca Ronconi's Orlando Furioso (1969) and Ariane Mnouchkine's 1789 (1970) at the Theatre du Soleil, and Grotowski's work; however, there is also a whole body of "research theatre" work of the '6os and '7os with fundamentally the same aim.

The post-World War II theatre of research went furthest in trying to exploit the possibilities for conditioning reception inherent in the manipu- lation of the stage space, and especially the physical relation of perfor- mance to spectator. Often, traditional "Italian" theatres were passed over in favor of environments which, though not originally theatrical spaces, allowed the performance/spectator relationship to be organized as needed, in the most suitable or convenient way. The common goal was specifical- ly to favor a more active, engaged, and creative reception by audience members.

One extreme form taken by this research might be defined as: The use of the spectator as an element of the performance and her/his assumption into the dramatic fiction. It was not enough simply to remove all divi- sions between performer and spectator by interspersing the two, or by having the performers use all parts of the space, often performing directly in the audience (as did the Living Theatre in the '6os). In order to maxi- mize the spectator's involvement on an emotional and intellectual level, attempts were made even to give them a role, albeit a marginal one, within the performance itself. This is exactly what happened in the Living

Dramaturgy of the Spectator Io5

lines concerning perspective scenery which abounded throughout the I6th century in Italy. By the end of the Igth century and coinciding with the rise of the director, there was an increasingly urgent need for changes to the theatrical norms of that time. The passive and unquestioned pro- cess of unification that the mimetic performance rules of Naturalism had proposed, or rather imposed via the staging, was first to go. This initial modification was effected by manipulating the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship. The changes took two forms: first, a breaking out from the "Italian" stage, the boite aux illusions with its neat separation between a raised stage and the stalls, both of which were laid out facing one another straight-on; and second, a search for various alternative spatial arrangements that might dispose of this frontal relationship and the distance between performance and spectator: a search, above all, for ways of bringing the two as close together as possi- ble (for example, those theatres with a central design where the audience surrounds the playing area like Gropius' "total theatre," or the opposite solution tried by Antonin Artaud at the Theatre Alfred Jarry, where the spectator is surrounded by the performance).

In this way, not only the shape of the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship changed, but also, in the most radical solutions, the performance itself now literally passed from view. Pre- viously, the performance had appeared as a unitary object to be grasped whole by the onlooker. This had led to the unitary model of performance usage that for centuries had been the basis of Western theatre. Now, however, this unitary model entered a deep crisis. In many cases the spec- tators were forced to acknowledge the irredeemably partial and subjective nature of their experience of the performance; this experience was now strictly conditioned by their material position, their point of observation. The same audience member occupying different places on different nights would see, literally, a different performance. Not only would the specta- tor's interpretation be altered but also, and above all, her/his emotional and intellectual reactions would alter. Obvious examples are the '6os' Happenings, plays like Luca Ronconi's Orlando Furioso (1969) and Ariane Mnouchkine's 1789 (1970) at the Theatre du Soleil, and Grotowski's work; however, there is also a whole body of "research theatre" work of the '6os and '7os with fundamentally the same aim.

The post-World War II theatre of research went furthest in trying to exploit the possibilities for conditioning reception inherent in the manipu- lation of the stage space, and especially the physical relation of perfor- mance to spectator. Often, traditional "Italian" theatres were passed over in favor of environments which, though not originally theatrical spaces, allowed the performance/spectator relationship to be organized as needed, in the most suitable or convenient way. The common goal was specifical- ly to favor a more active, engaged, and creative reception by audience members.

One extreme form taken by this research might be defined as: The use of the spectator as an element of the performance and her/his assumption into the dramatic fiction. It was not enough simply to remove all divi- sions between performer and spectator by interspersing the two, or by having the performers use all parts of the space, often performing directly in the audience (as did the Living Theatre in the '6os). In order to maxi- mize the spectator's involvement on an emotional and intellectual level, attempts were made even to give them a role, albeit a marginal one, within the performance itself. This is exactly what happened in the Living

Dramaturgy of the Spectator Io5

lines concerning perspective scenery which abounded throughout the I6th century in Italy. By the end of the Igth century and coinciding with the rise of the director, there was an increasingly urgent need for changes to the theatrical norms of that time. The passive and unquestioned pro- cess of unification that the mimetic performance rules of Naturalism had proposed, or rather imposed via the staging, was first to go. This initial modification was effected by manipulating the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship. The changes took two forms: first, a breaking out from the "Italian" stage, the boite aux illusions with its neat separation between a raised stage and the stalls, both of which were laid out facing one another straight-on; and second, a search for various alternative spatial arrangements that might dispose of this frontal relationship and the distance between performance and spectator: a search, above all, for ways of bringing the two as close together as possi- ble (for example, those theatres with a central design where the audience surrounds the playing area like Gropius' "total theatre," or the opposite solution tried by Antonin Artaud at the Theatre Alfred Jarry, where the spectator is surrounded by the performance).

In this way, not only the shape of the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship changed, but also, in the most radical solutions, the performance itself now literally passed from view. Pre- viously, the performance had appeared as a unitary object to be grasped whole by the onlooker. This had led to the unitary model of performance usage that for centuries had been the basis of Western theatre. Now, however, this unitary model entered a deep crisis. In many cases the spec- tators were forced to acknowledge the irredeemably partial and subjective nature of their experience of the performance; this experience was now strictly conditioned by their material position, their point of observation. The same audience member occupying different places on different nights would see, literally, a different performance. Not only would the specta- tor's interpretation be altered but also, and above all, her/his emotional and intellectual reactions would alter. Obvious examples are the '6os' Happenings, plays like Luca Ronconi's Orlando Furioso (1969) and Ariane Mnouchkine's 1789 (1970) at the Theatre du Soleil, and Grotowski's work; however, there is also a whole body of "research theatre" work of the '6os and '7os with fundamentally the same aim.

The post-World War II theatre of research went furthest in trying to exploit the possibilities for conditioning reception inherent in the manipu- lation of the stage space, and especially the physical relation of perfor- mance to spectator. Often, traditional "Italian" theatres were passed over in favor of environments which, though not originally theatrical spaces, allowed the performance/spectator relationship to be organized as needed, in the most suitable or convenient way. The common goal was specifical- ly to favor a more active, engaged, and creative reception by audience members.

One extreme form taken by this research might be defined as: The use of the spectator as an element of the performance and her/his assumption into the dramatic fiction. It was not enough simply to remove all divi- sions between performer and spectator by interspersing the two, or by having the performers use all parts of the space, often performing directly in the audience (as did the Living Theatre in the '6os). In order to maxi- mize the spectator's involvement on an emotional and intellectual level, attempts were made even to give them a role, albeit a marginal one, within the performance itself. This is exactly what happened in the Living

Dramaturgy of the Spectator Io5

lines concerning perspective scenery which abounded throughout the I6th century in Italy. By the end of the Igth century and coinciding with the rise of the director, there was an increasingly urgent need for changes to the theatrical norms of that time. The passive and unquestioned pro- cess of unification that the mimetic performance rules of Naturalism had proposed, or rather imposed via the staging, was first to go. This initial modification was effected by manipulating the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship. The changes took two forms: first, a breaking out from the "Italian" stage, the boite aux illusions with its neat separation between a raised stage and the stalls, both of which were laid out facing one another straight-on; and second, a search for various alternative spatial arrangements that might dispose of this frontal relationship and the distance between performance and spectator: a search, above all, for ways of bringing the two as close together as possi- ble (for example, those theatres with a central design where the audience surrounds the playing area like Gropius' "total theatre," or the opposite solution tried by Antonin Artaud at the Theatre Alfred Jarry, where the spectator is surrounded by the performance).

In this way, not only the shape of the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship changed, but also, in the most radical solutions, the performance itself now literally passed from view. Pre- viously, the performance had appeared as a unitary object to be grasped whole by the onlooker. This had led to the unitary model of performance usage that for centuries had been the basis of Western theatre. Now, however, this unitary model entered a deep crisis. In many cases the spec- tators were forced to acknowledge the irredeemably partial and subjective nature of their experience of the performance; this experience was now strictly conditioned by their material position, their point of observation. The same audience member occupying different places on different nights would see, literally, a different performance. Not only would the specta- tor's interpretation be altered but also, and above all, her/his emotional and intellectual reactions would alter. Obvious examples are the '6os' Happenings, plays like Luca Ronconi's Orlando Furioso (1969) and Ariane Mnouchkine's 1789 (1970) at the Theatre du Soleil, and Grotowski's work; however, there is also a whole body of "research theatre" work of the '6os and '7os with fundamentally the same aim.

The post-World War II theatre of research went furthest in trying to exploit the possibilities for conditioning reception inherent in the manipu- lation of the stage space, and especially the physical relation of perfor- mance to spectator. Often, traditional "Italian" theatres were passed over in favor of environments which, though not originally theatrical spaces, allowed the performance/spectator relationship to be organized as needed, in the most suitable or convenient way. The common goal was specifical- ly to favor a more active, engaged, and creative reception by audience members.

One extreme form taken by this research might be defined as: The use of the spectator as an element of the performance and her/his assumption into the dramatic fiction. It was not enough simply to remove all divi- sions between performer and spectator by interspersing the two, or by having the performers use all parts of the space, often performing directly in the audience (as did the Living Theatre in the '6os). In order to maxi- mize the spectator's involvement on an emotional and intellectual level, attempts were made even to give them a role, albeit a marginal one, within the performance itself. This is exactly what happened in the Living

Dramaturgy of the Spectator Io5

lines concerning perspective scenery which abounded throughout the I6th century in Italy. By the end of the Igth century and coinciding with the rise of the director, there was an increasingly urgent need for changes to the theatrical norms of that time. The passive and unquestioned pro- cess of unification that the mimetic performance rules of Naturalism had proposed, or rather imposed via the staging, was first to go. This initial modification was effected by manipulating the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship. The changes took two forms: first, a breaking out from the "Italian" stage, the boite aux illusions with its neat separation between a raised stage and the stalls, both of which were laid out facing one another straight-on; and second, a search for various alternative spatial arrangements that might dispose of this frontal relationship and the distance between performance and spectator: a search, above all, for ways of bringing the two as close together as possi- ble (for example, those theatres with a central design where the audience surrounds the playing area like Gropius' "total theatre," or the opposite solution tried by Antonin Artaud at the Theatre Alfred Jarry, where the spectator is surrounded by the performance).

In this way, not only the shape of the theatrical space and the physical performance/spectator relationship changed, but also, in the most radical solutions, the performance itself now literally passed from view. Pre- viously, the performance had appeared as a unitary object to be grasped whole by the onlooker. This had led to the unitary model of performance usage that for centuries had been the basis of Western theatre. Now, however, this unitary model entered a deep crisis. In many cases the spec- tators were forced to acknowledge the irredeemably partial and subjective nature of their experience of the performance; this experience was now strictly conditioned by their material position, their point of observation. The same audience member occupying different places on different nights would see, literally, a different performance. Not only would the specta- tor's interpretation be altered but also, and above all, her/his emotional and intellectual reactions would alter. Obvious examples are the '6os' Happenings, plays like Luca Ronconi's Orlando Furioso (1969) and Ariane Mnouchkine's 1789 (1970) at the Theatre du Soleil, and Grotowski's work; however, there is also a whole body of "research theatre" work of the '6os and '7os with fundamentally the same aim.

The post-World War II theatre of research went furthest in trying to exploit the possibilities for conditioning reception inherent in the manipu- lation of the stage space, and especially the physical relation of perfor- mance to spectator. Often, traditional "Italian" theatres were passed over in favor of environments which, though not originally theatrical spaces, allowed the performance/spectator relationship to be organized as needed, in the most suitable or convenient way. The common goal was specifical- ly to favor a more active, engaged, and creative reception by audience members.

One extreme form taken by this research might be defined as: The use of the spectator as an element of the performance and her/his assumption into the dramatic fiction. It was not enough simply to remove all divi- sions between performer and spectator by interspersing the two, or by having the performers use all parts of the space, often performing directly in the audience (as did the Living Theatre in the '6os). In order to maxi- mize the spectator's involvement on an emotional and intellectual level, attempts were made even to give them a role, albeit a marginal one, within the performance itself. This is exactly what happened in the Living

Page 8: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

io6 Marco De Marinis io6 Marco De Marinis io6 Marco De Marinis io6 Marco De Marinis io6 Marco De Marinis io6 Marco De Marinis io6 Marco De Marinis

Theatre production of Antigone (1967) when the audience became the peo- ple of Argus at war with the Thebans, played by the performers. Un- doubtedly, however, the leading exponent of this solution was Grotowski in his performances of the early '6os: from Faust (1960), in which the spectators were guests at the protagonist's table; to Kordian (I962), where they figured as the inmates of the psychiatric clinic in which the action takes place; and finally to Akropolis (1962), where spectators, in contrast to the performers, became survivors of the gas chambers.

This somewhat constricting and basically authoritarian approach to au- dience participation was later superseded and openly criticized by Gro- towski, who saw it as counter-productive-rather than deconditioning the audience, this approach risked blocking and further inhibiting them. Already by the late '6os, Grotowski was theorizing the transition from a theatre of participation to one of testimony, thought to be a more authen- tic form of participation, running deeper than any material involvement of the spectator (see De Marinis I987).

The Structuring (Montaggio) of the Spectator's Attention

In discussing how theatre practitioners work upon the attention of the spectator, we come to what is perhaps the key to all the dramaturgical strategies by which the performance establishes its relationship to the au- dience. In fact, properly considered, the manipulation of the theatrical space is simply one level or one aspect of a much larger manipulative strategy aimed precisely at this structuring of the spectator's attention.

Of all the leaders of the Third Theatre, Eugenio Barba, director of the Odin Teatret, has been, of late, the most effective in underlining the deci- sive importance of the performers' and director's work upon the specta- tor's attention; this work helps determine whether the performance meets with "success" and is especially decisive in the communicative relationship that the performance sets up:

The more the performance allows audience members their own experience of the staged experience, the more it must also guide their attention so that, in all the complexity of present action, the spectator does not lose the sense of direction, the sense of past and future action-the history of the performance.

All the means which permit this structuring of the spectator's attention can be extracted from "the life of the drama" (that is, from the actions which this life brings into play): from the dia- chronic and synchronic structures which are uncovered there. To give life to the drama is not simply to plot the actions and ten- sions of the performance but also to structure the spectator's attention, ordering its rhythms and invoking its moments of ten- sion without, however, imposing any one interpretation (Barba I983a:46; see also Barba 1981).

This theme is also central to Grotowski's most recent theorizing. Speaking at a 1984 conference in Italy, Grotowski declared that "the abili- ty to guide the spectator's attention" constitutes "one of the essential problems of the director's trade" (I984:3I).

It is, in fact, due solely to the application and proper functioning of the spectator's selective attention that the theatrical relationship is actually set into place and maintained; only then is the performance transformed from

Theatre production of Antigone (1967) when the audience became the peo- ple of Argus at war with the Thebans, played by the performers. Un- doubtedly, however, the leading exponent of this solution was Grotowski in his performances of the early '6os: from Faust (1960), in which the spectators were guests at the protagonist's table; to Kordian (I962), where they figured as the inmates of the psychiatric clinic in which the action takes place; and finally to Akropolis (1962), where spectators, in contrast to the performers, became survivors of the gas chambers.

This somewhat constricting and basically authoritarian approach to au- dience participation was later superseded and openly criticized by Gro- towski, who saw it as counter-productive-rather than deconditioning the audience, this approach risked blocking and further inhibiting them. Already by the late '6os, Grotowski was theorizing the transition from a theatre of participation to one of testimony, thought to be a more authen- tic form of participation, running deeper than any material involvement of the spectator (see De Marinis I987).

The Structuring (Montaggio) of the Spectator's Attention

In discussing how theatre practitioners work upon the attention of the spectator, we come to what is perhaps the key to all the dramaturgical strategies by which the performance establishes its relationship to the au- dience. In fact, properly considered, the manipulation of the theatrical space is simply one level or one aspect of a much larger manipulative strategy aimed precisely at this structuring of the spectator's attention.

Of all the leaders of the Third Theatre, Eugenio Barba, director of the Odin Teatret, has been, of late, the most effective in underlining the deci- sive importance of the performers' and director's work upon the specta- tor's attention; this work helps determine whether the performance meets with "success" and is especially decisive in the communicative relationship that the performance sets up:

The more the performance allows audience members their own experience of the staged experience, the more it must also guide their attention so that, in all the complexity of present action, the spectator does not lose the sense of direction, the sense of past and future action-the history of the performance.

All the means which permit this structuring of the spectator's attention can be extracted from "the life of the drama" (that is, from the actions which this life brings into play): from the dia- chronic and synchronic structures which are uncovered there. To give life to the drama is not simply to plot the actions and ten- sions of the performance but also to structure the spectator's attention, ordering its rhythms and invoking its moments of ten- sion without, however, imposing any one interpretation (Barba I983a:46; see also Barba 1981).

This theme is also central to Grotowski's most recent theorizing. Speaking at a 1984 conference in Italy, Grotowski declared that "the abili- ty to guide the spectator's attention" constitutes "one of the essential problems of the director's trade" (I984:3I).

It is, in fact, due solely to the application and proper functioning of the spectator's selective attention that the theatrical relationship is actually set into place and maintained; only then is the performance transformed from

Theatre production of Antigone (1967) when the audience became the peo- ple of Argus at war with the Thebans, played by the performers. Un- doubtedly, however, the leading exponent of this solution was Grotowski in his performances of the early '6os: from Faust (1960), in which the spectators were guests at the protagonist's table; to Kordian (I962), where they figured as the inmates of the psychiatric clinic in which the action takes place; and finally to Akropolis (1962), where spectators, in contrast to the performers, became survivors of the gas chambers.

This somewhat constricting and basically authoritarian approach to au- dience participation was later superseded and openly criticized by Gro- towski, who saw it as counter-productive-rather than deconditioning the audience, this approach risked blocking and further inhibiting them. Already by the late '6os, Grotowski was theorizing the transition from a theatre of participation to one of testimony, thought to be a more authen- tic form of participation, running deeper than any material involvement of the spectator (see De Marinis I987).

The Structuring (Montaggio) of the Spectator's Attention

In discussing how theatre practitioners work upon the attention of the spectator, we come to what is perhaps the key to all the dramaturgical strategies by which the performance establishes its relationship to the au- dience. In fact, properly considered, the manipulation of the theatrical space is simply one level or one aspect of a much larger manipulative strategy aimed precisely at this structuring of the spectator's attention.

Of all the leaders of the Third Theatre, Eugenio Barba, director of the Odin Teatret, has been, of late, the most effective in underlining the deci- sive importance of the performers' and director's work upon the specta- tor's attention; this work helps determine whether the performance meets with "success" and is especially decisive in the communicative relationship that the performance sets up:

The more the performance allows audience members their own experience of the staged experience, the more it must also guide their attention so that, in all the complexity of present action, the spectator does not lose the sense of direction, the sense of past and future action-the history of the performance.

All the means which permit this structuring of the spectator's attention can be extracted from "the life of the drama" (that is, from the actions which this life brings into play): from the dia- chronic and synchronic structures which are uncovered there. To give life to the drama is not simply to plot the actions and ten- sions of the performance but also to structure the spectator's attention, ordering its rhythms and invoking its moments of ten- sion without, however, imposing any one interpretation (Barba I983a:46; see also Barba 1981).

This theme is also central to Grotowski's most recent theorizing. Speaking at a 1984 conference in Italy, Grotowski declared that "the abili- ty to guide the spectator's attention" constitutes "one of the essential problems of the director's trade" (I984:3I).

It is, in fact, due solely to the application and proper functioning of the spectator's selective attention that the theatrical relationship is actually set into place and maintained; only then is the performance transformed from

Theatre production of Antigone (1967) when the audience became the peo- ple of Argus at war with the Thebans, played by the performers. Un- doubtedly, however, the leading exponent of this solution was Grotowski in his performances of the early '6os: from Faust (1960), in which the spectators were guests at the protagonist's table; to Kordian (I962), where they figured as the inmates of the psychiatric clinic in which the action takes place; and finally to Akropolis (1962), where spectators, in contrast to the performers, became survivors of the gas chambers.

This somewhat constricting and basically authoritarian approach to au- dience participation was later superseded and openly criticized by Gro- towski, who saw it as counter-productive-rather than deconditioning the audience, this approach risked blocking and further inhibiting them. Already by the late '6os, Grotowski was theorizing the transition from a theatre of participation to one of testimony, thought to be a more authen- tic form of participation, running deeper than any material involvement of the spectator (see De Marinis I987).

The Structuring (Montaggio) of the Spectator's Attention

In discussing how theatre practitioners work upon the attention of the spectator, we come to what is perhaps the key to all the dramaturgical strategies by which the performance establishes its relationship to the au- dience. In fact, properly considered, the manipulation of the theatrical space is simply one level or one aspect of a much larger manipulative strategy aimed precisely at this structuring of the spectator's attention.

Of all the leaders of the Third Theatre, Eugenio Barba, director of the Odin Teatret, has been, of late, the most effective in underlining the deci- sive importance of the performers' and director's work upon the specta- tor's attention; this work helps determine whether the performance meets with "success" and is especially decisive in the communicative relationship that the performance sets up:

The more the performance allows audience members their own experience of the staged experience, the more it must also guide their attention so that, in all the complexity of present action, the spectator does not lose the sense of direction, the sense of past and future action-the history of the performance.

All the means which permit this structuring of the spectator's attention can be extracted from "the life of the drama" (that is, from the actions which this life brings into play): from the dia- chronic and synchronic structures which are uncovered there. To give life to the drama is not simply to plot the actions and ten- sions of the performance but also to structure the spectator's attention, ordering its rhythms and invoking its moments of ten- sion without, however, imposing any one interpretation (Barba I983a:46; see also Barba 1981).

This theme is also central to Grotowski's most recent theorizing. Speaking at a 1984 conference in Italy, Grotowski declared that "the abili- ty to guide the spectator's attention" constitutes "one of the essential problems of the director's trade" (I984:3I).

It is, in fact, due solely to the application and proper functioning of the spectator's selective attention that the theatrical relationship is actually set into place and maintained; only then is the performance transformed from

Theatre production of Antigone (1967) when the audience became the peo- ple of Argus at war with the Thebans, played by the performers. Un- doubtedly, however, the leading exponent of this solution was Grotowski in his performances of the early '6os: from Faust (1960), in which the spectators were guests at the protagonist's table; to Kordian (I962), where they figured as the inmates of the psychiatric clinic in which the action takes place; and finally to Akropolis (1962), where spectators, in contrast to the performers, became survivors of the gas chambers.

This somewhat constricting and basically authoritarian approach to au- dience participation was later superseded and openly criticized by Gro- towski, who saw it as counter-productive-rather than deconditioning the audience, this approach risked blocking and further inhibiting them. Already by the late '6os, Grotowski was theorizing the transition from a theatre of participation to one of testimony, thought to be a more authen- tic form of participation, running deeper than any material involvement of the spectator (see De Marinis I987).

The Structuring (Montaggio) of the Spectator's Attention

In discussing how theatre practitioners work upon the attention of the spectator, we come to what is perhaps the key to all the dramaturgical strategies by which the performance establishes its relationship to the au- dience. In fact, properly considered, the manipulation of the theatrical space is simply one level or one aspect of a much larger manipulative strategy aimed precisely at this structuring of the spectator's attention.

Of all the leaders of the Third Theatre, Eugenio Barba, director of the Odin Teatret, has been, of late, the most effective in underlining the deci- sive importance of the performers' and director's work upon the specta- tor's attention; this work helps determine whether the performance meets with "success" and is especially decisive in the communicative relationship that the performance sets up:

The more the performance allows audience members their own experience of the staged experience, the more it must also guide their attention so that, in all the complexity of present action, the spectator does not lose the sense of direction, the sense of past and future action-the history of the performance.

All the means which permit this structuring of the spectator's attention can be extracted from "the life of the drama" (that is, from the actions which this life brings into play): from the dia- chronic and synchronic structures which are uncovered there. To give life to the drama is not simply to plot the actions and ten- sions of the performance but also to structure the spectator's attention, ordering its rhythms and invoking its moments of ten- sion without, however, imposing any one interpretation (Barba I983a:46; see also Barba 1981).

This theme is also central to Grotowski's most recent theorizing. Speaking at a 1984 conference in Italy, Grotowski declared that "the abili- ty to guide the spectator's attention" constitutes "one of the essential problems of the director's trade" (I984:3I).

It is, in fact, due solely to the application and proper functioning of the spectator's selective attention that the theatrical relationship is actually set into place and maintained; only then is the performance transformed from

Theatre production of Antigone (1967) when the audience became the peo- ple of Argus at war with the Thebans, played by the performers. Un- doubtedly, however, the leading exponent of this solution was Grotowski in his performances of the early '6os: from Faust (1960), in which the spectators were guests at the protagonist's table; to Kordian (I962), where they figured as the inmates of the psychiatric clinic in which the action takes place; and finally to Akropolis (1962), where spectators, in contrast to the performers, became survivors of the gas chambers.

This somewhat constricting and basically authoritarian approach to au- dience participation was later superseded and openly criticized by Gro- towski, who saw it as counter-productive-rather than deconditioning the audience, this approach risked blocking and further inhibiting them. Already by the late '6os, Grotowski was theorizing the transition from a theatre of participation to one of testimony, thought to be a more authen- tic form of participation, running deeper than any material involvement of the spectator (see De Marinis I987).

The Structuring (Montaggio) of the Spectator's Attention

In discussing how theatre practitioners work upon the attention of the spectator, we come to what is perhaps the key to all the dramaturgical strategies by which the performance establishes its relationship to the au- dience. In fact, properly considered, the manipulation of the theatrical space is simply one level or one aspect of a much larger manipulative strategy aimed precisely at this structuring of the spectator's attention.

Of all the leaders of the Third Theatre, Eugenio Barba, director of the Odin Teatret, has been, of late, the most effective in underlining the deci- sive importance of the performers' and director's work upon the specta- tor's attention; this work helps determine whether the performance meets with "success" and is especially decisive in the communicative relationship that the performance sets up:

The more the performance allows audience members their own experience of the staged experience, the more it must also guide their attention so that, in all the complexity of present action, the spectator does not lose the sense of direction, the sense of past and future action-the history of the performance.

All the means which permit this structuring of the spectator's attention can be extracted from "the life of the drama" (that is, from the actions which this life brings into play): from the dia- chronic and synchronic structures which are uncovered there. To give life to the drama is not simply to plot the actions and ten- sions of the performance but also to structure the spectator's attention, ordering its rhythms and invoking its moments of ten- sion without, however, imposing any one interpretation (Barba I983a:46; see also Barba 1981).

This theme is also central to Grotowski's most recent theorizing. Speaking at a 1984 conference in Italy, Grotowski declared that "the abili- ty to guide the spectator's attention" constitutes "one of the essential problems of the director's trade" (I984:3I).

It is, in fact, due solely to the application and proper functioning of the spectator's selective attention that the theatrical relationship is actually set into place and maintained; only then is the performance transformed from

Theatre production of Antigone (1967) when the audience became the peo- ple of Argus at war with the Thebans, played by the performers. Un- doubtedly, however, the leading exponent of this solution was Grotowski in his performances of the early '6os: from Faust (1960), in which the spectators were guests at the protagonist's table; to Kordian (I962), where they figured as the inmates of the psychiatric clinic in which the action takes place; and finally to Akropolis (1962), where spectators, in contrast to the performers, became survivors of the gas chambers.

This somewhat constricting and basically authoritarian approach to au- dience participation was later superseded and openly criticized by Gro- towski, who saw it as counter-productive-rather than deconditioning the audience, this approach risked blocking and further inhibiting them. Already by the late '6os, Grotowski was theorizing the transition from a theatre of participation to one of testimony, thought to be a more authen- tic form of participation, running deeper than any material involvement of the spectator (see De Marinis I987).

The Structuring (Montaggio) of the Spectator's Attention

In discussing how theatre practitioners work upon the attention of the spectator, we come to what is perhaps the key to all the dramaturgical strategies by which the performance establishes its relationship to the au- dience. In fact, properly considered, the manipulation of the theatrical space is simply one level or one aspect of a much larger manipulative strategy aimed precisely at this structuring of the spectator's attention.

Of all the leaders of the Third Theatre, Eugenio Barba, director of the Odin Teatret, has been, of late, the most effective in underlining the deci- sive importance of the performers' and director's work upon the specta- tor's attention; this work helps determine whether the performance meets with "success" and is especially decisive in the communicative relationship that the performance sets up:

The more the performance allows audience members their own experience of the staged experience, the more it must also guide their attention so that, in all the complexity of present action, the spectator does not lose the sense of direction, the sense of past and future action-the history of the performance.

All the means which permit this structuring of the spectator's attention can be extracted from "the life of the drama" (that is, from the actions which this life brings into play): from the dia- chronic and synchronic structures which are uncovered there. To give life to the drama is not simply to plot the actions and ten- sions of the performance but also to structure the spectator's attention, ordering its rhythms and invoking its moments of ten- sion without, however, imposing any one interpretation (Barba I983a:46; see also Barba 1981).

This theme is also central to Grotowski's most recent theorizing. Speaking at a 1984 conference in Italy, Grotowski declared that "the abili- ty to guide the spectator's attention" constitutes "one of the essential problems of the director's trade" (I984:3I).

It is, in fact, due solely to the application and proper functioning of the spectator's selective attention that the theatrical relationship is actually set into place and maintained; only then is the performance transformed from

Page 9: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I07

a confused jumble of disparate elements into a performance text fur- nished, at least potentially, with its own meaningfulness and coherence. This may seem trite inasmuch as it holds true for any other type of aes- thetic experience. However, in the case of theatrical performance, there is no doubt that the sensory faculties of the perceiving subject are called upon to sustain an effort to which, for both quantity and quality, there is no equivalent in any other artistic field. In this context, Roland Barthes spoke suggestively of a "polyphony of information" in theatrical perfor- mance, indicating the multiplicity of heterogeneous signs that are simulta- neously emitted (Barthes I963). Yet even this does not go far enough: to this polyphonic quality we must add that the performance text or, more exactly, its dense signifying surface, is characterized by its nondiscreteness (in that it is continuous), its instability (in that it is variable), and its imper- manence (in that it is ephemeral).

These textual and contextual features make it absolutely essential that spectators discard and even drastically eliminate some of the mass of stim- uli to which they are exposed both successively and simultaneously by the performance. (Of course, the spectator nearly always does this auto- matically and unconsciously.) This only becomes possible by actively en- gaging the two modes of "perceptive doing" (faire perceptif), which some psychologists have called "attentive focalization" and "selective attention." (Others describe the same process as a passage from a diffuse and passive "seeing" (voir) to an actively concentrated and sharply focused "watching" (regarder) [see Poppe I979].)

It is worth repeating that without this basic decoupage and selection car- ried out by their attention, the spectators would not be in a position to work out their own "reading" strategies for the performance, nor to give it first a local and then, gradually, a global meaning. The Belgian scholar Carlos Tindemans is therefore not exaggerating when he isolates this at- tention as the true "generator of coherence" in the theatre, the necessary premise to any "coherent understanding" of the performance text (1984).

For theatre practitioners all this is well-known and always has been. Efforts have always been directed at setting out what Grotowski calls "an itinerary for the spectator's attention." It is the same task which, in cine- ma, is left to the camera lens, though the camera works in a much more rigid way as far as a director or performer is concerned. In this regard, Grotowski also maintains that a theatre director should have "an invisible camera always taking in different shots and always directing the specta- tor's attention towards something" (I984:32).

DETERMINANT FEATURES OF THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

At this point we must examine how the director and actors work upon the attention of the spectator. In more exact terms, we must ask what are the determinant features of this selective attention which is, and always has been, subject to manipulation by the producers of theatre. At the same time, it should be clear that it is not only a question of attracting the spectator's attention towards one thing but also of distracting it from something else. For the most part, these two modes of manipulation co- exist and are largely interdependent-often it is necessary to distract the spectator's attention from one thing in order to be able to attract it to- wards another thing. From the receiver's point of view, these modes can be labeled in more technical terms: focalization, defocalization, and refocalization.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I07

a confused jumble of disparate elements into a performance text fur- nished, at least potentially, with its own meaningfulness and coherence. This may seem trite inasmuch as it holds true for any other type of aes- thetic experience. However, in the case of theatrical performance, there is no doubt that the sensory faculties of the perceiving subject are called upon to sustain an effort to which, for both quantity and quality, there is no equivalent in any other artistic field. In this context, Roland Barthes spoke suggestively of a "polyphony of information" in theatrical perfor- mance, indicating the multiplicity of heterogeneous signs that are simulta- neously emitted (Barthes I963). Yet even this does not go far enough: to this polyphonic quality we must add that the performance text or, more exactly, its dense signifying surface, is characterized by its nondiscreteness (in that it is continuous), its instability (in that it is variable), and its imper- manence (in that it is ephemeral).

These textual and contextual features make it absolutely essential that spectators discard and even drastically eliminate some of the mass of stim- uli to which they are exposed both successively and simultaneously by the performance. (Of course, the spectator nearly always does this auto- matically and unconsciously.) This only becomes possible by actively en- gaging the two modes of "perceptive doing" (faire perceptif), which some psychologists have called "attentive focalization" and "selective attention." (Others describe the same process as a passage from a diffuse and passive "seeing" (voir) to an actively concentrated and sharply focused "watching" (regarder) [see Poppe I979].)

It is worth repeating that without this basic decoupage and selection car- ried out by their attention, the spectators would not be in a position to work out their own "reading" strategies for the performance, nor to give it first a local and then, gradually, a global meaning. The Belgian scholar Carlos Tindemans is therefore not exaggerating when he isolates this at- tention as the true "generator of coherence" in the theatre, the necessary premise to any "coherent understanding" of the performance text (1984).

For theatre practitioners all this is well-known and always has been. Efforts have always been directed at setting out what Grotowski calls "an itinerary for the spectator's attention." It is the same task which, in cine- ma, is left to the camera lens, though the camera works in a much more rigid way as far as a director or performer is concerned. In this regard, Grotowski also maintains that a theatre director should have "an invisible camera always taking in different shots and always directing the specta- tor's attention towards something" (I984:32).

DETERMINANT FEATURES OF THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

At this point we must examine how the director and actors work upon the attention of the spectator. In more exact terms, we must ask what are the determinant features of this selective attention which is, and always has been, subject to manipulation by the producers of theatre. At the same time, it should be clear that it is not only a question of attracting the spectator's attention towards one thing but also of distracting it from something else. For the most part, these two modes of manipulation co- exist and are largely interdependent-often it is necessary to distract the spectator's attention from one thing in order to be able to attract it to- wards another thing. From the receiver's point of view, these modes can be labeled in more technical terms: focalization, defocalization, and refocalization.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I07

a confused jumble of disparate elements into a performance text fur- nished, at least potentially, with its own meaningfulness and coherence. This may seem trite inasmuch as it holds true for any other type of aes- thetic experience. However, in the case of theatrical performance, there is no doubt that the sensory faculties of the perceiving subject are called upon to sustain an effort to which, for both quantity and quality, there is no equivalent in any other artistic field. In this context, Roland Barthes spoke suggestively of a "polyphony of information" in theatrical perfor- mance, indicating the multiplicity of heterogeneous signs that are simulta- neously emitted (Barthes I963). Yet even this does not go far enough: to this polyphonic quality we must add that the performance text or, more exactly, its dense signifying surface, is characterized by its nondiscreteness (in that it is continuous), its instability (in that it is variable), and its imper- manence (in that it is ephemeral).

These textual and contextual features make it absolutely essential that spectators discard and even drastically eliminate some of the mass of stim- uli to which they are exposed both successively and simultaneously by the performance. (Of course, the spectator nearly always does this auto- matically and unconsciously.) This only becomes possible by actively en- gaging the two modes of "perceptive doing" (faire perceptif), which some psychologists have called "attentive focalization" and "selective attention." (Others describe the same process as a passage from a diffuse and passive "seeing" (voir) to an actively concentrated and sharply focused "watching" (regarder) [see Poppe I979].)

It is worth repeating that without this basic decoupage and selection car- ried out by their attention, the spectators would not be in a position to work out their own "reading" strategies for the performance, nor to give it first a local and then, gradually, a global meaning. The Belgian scholar Carlos Tindemans is therefore not exaggerating when he isolates this at- tention as the true "generator of coherence" in the theatre, the necessary premise to any "coherent understanding" of the performance text (1984).

For theatre practitioners all this is well-known and always has been. Efforts have always been directed at setting out what Grotowski calls "an itinerary for the spectator's attention." It is the same task which, in cine- ma, is left to the camera lens, though the camera works in a much more rigid way as far as a director or performer is concerned. In this regard, Grotowski also maintains that a theatre director should have "an invisible camera always taking in different shots and always directing the specta- tor's attention towards something" (I984:32).

DETERMINANT FEATURES OF THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

At this point we must examine how the director and actors work upon the attention of the spectator. In more exact terms, we must ask what are the determinant features of this selective attention which is, and always has been, subject to manipulation by the producers of theatre. At the same time, it should be clear that it is not only a question of attracting the spectator's attention towards one thing but also of distracting it from something else. For the most part, these two modes of manipulation co- exist and are largely interdependent-often it is necessary to distract the spectator's attention from one thing in order to be able to attract it to- wards another thing. From the receiver's point of view, these modes can be labeled in more technical terms: focalization, defocalization, and refocalization.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I07

a confused jumble of disparate elements into a performance text fur- nished, at least potentially, with its own meaningfulness and coherence. This may seem trite inasmuch as it holds true for any other type of aes- thetic experience. However, in the case of theatrical performance, there is no doubt that the sensory faculties of the perceiving subject are called upon to sustain an effort to which, for both quantity and quality, there is no equivalent in any other artistic field. In this context, Roland Barthes spoke suggestively of a "polyphony of information" in theatrical perfor- mance, indicating the multiplicity of heterogeneous signs that are simulta- neously emitted (Barthes I963). Yet even this does not go far enough: to this polyphonic quality we must add that the performance text or, more exactly, its dense signifying surface, is characterized by its nondiscreteness (in that it is continuous), its instability (in that it is variable), and its imper- manence (in that it is ephemeral).

These textual and contextual features make it absolutely essential that spectators discard and even drastically eliminate some of the mass of stim- uli to which they are exposed both successively and simultaneously by the performance. (Of course, the spectator nearly always does this auto- matically and unconsciously.) This only becomes possible by actively en- gaging the two modes of "perceptive doing" (faire perceptif), which some psychologists have called "attentive focalization" and "selective attention." (Others describe the same process as a passage from a diffuse and passive "seeing" (voir) to an actively concentrated and sharply focused "watching" (regarder) [see Poppe I979].)

It is worth repeating that without this basic decoupage and selection car- ried out by their attention, the spectators would not be in a position to work out their own "reading" strategies for the performance, nor to give it first a local and then, gradually, a global meaning. The Belgian scholar Carlos Tindemans is therefore not exaggerating when he isolates this at- tention as the true "generator of coherence" in the theatre, the necessary premise to any "coherent understanding" of the performance text (1984).

For theatre practitioners all this is well-known and always has been. Efforts have always been directed at setting out what Grotowski calls "an itinerary for the spectator's attention." It is the same task which, in cine- ma, is left to the camera lens, though the camera works in a much more rigid way as far as a director or performer is concerned. In this regard, Grotowski also maintains that a theatre director should have "an invisible camera always taking in different shots and always directing the specta- tor's attention towards something" (I984:32).

DETERMINANT FEATURES OF THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

At this point we must examine how the director and actors work upon the attention of the spectator. In more exact terms, we must ask what are the determinant features of this selective attention which is, and always has been, subject to manipulation by the producers of theatre. At the same time, it should be clear that it is not only a question of attracting the spectator's attention towards one thing but also of distracting it from something else. For the most part, these two modes of manipulation co- exist and are largely interdependent-often it is necessary to distract the spectator's attention from one thing in order to be able to attract it to- wards another thing. From the receiver's point of view, these modes can be labeled in more technical terms: focalization, defocalization, and refocalization.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I07

a confused jumble of disparate elements into a performance text fur- nished, at least potentially, with its own meaningfulness and coherence. This may seem trite inasmuch as it holds true for any other type of aes- thetic experience. However, in the case of theatrical performance, there is no doubt that the sensory faculties of the perceiving subject are called upon to sustain an effort to which, for both quantity and quality, there is no equivalent in any other artistic field. In this context, Roland Barthes spoke suggestively of a "polyphony of information" in theatrical perfor- mance, indicating the multiplicity of heterogeneous signs that are simulta- neously emitted (Barthes I963). Yet even this does not go far enough: to this polyphonic quality we must add that the performance text or, more exactly, its dense signifying surface, is characterized by its nondiscreteness (in that it is continuous), its instability (in that it is variable), and its imper- manence (in that it is ephemeral).

These textual and contextual features make it absolutely essential that spectators discard and even drastically eliminate some of the mass of stim- uli to which they are exposed both successively and simultaneously by the performance. (Of course, the spectator nearly always does this auto- matically and unconsciously.) This only becomes possible by actively en- gaging the two modes of "perceptive doing" (faire perceptif), which some psychologists have called "attentive focalization" and "selective attention." (Others describe the same process as a passage from a diffuse and passive "seeing" (voir) to an actively concentrated and sharply focused "watching" (regarder) [see Poppe I979].)

It is worth repeating that without this basic decoupage and selection car- ried out by their attention, the spectators would not be in a position to work out their own "reading" strategies for the performance, nor to give it first a local and then, gradually, a global meaning. The Belgian scholar Carlos Tindemans is therefore not exaggerating when he isolates this at- tention as the true "generator of coherence" in the theatre, the necessary premise to any "coherent understanding" of the performance text (1984).

For theatre practitioners all this is well-known and always has been. Efforts have always been directed at setting out what Grotowski calls "an itinerary for the spectator's attention." It is the same task which, in cine- ma, is left to the camera lens, though the camera works in a much more rigid way as far as a director or performer is concerned. In this regard, Grotowski also maintains that a theatre director should have "an invisible camera always taking in different shots and always directing the specta- tor's attention towards something" (I984:32).

DETERMINANT FEATURES OF THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

At this point we must examine how the director and actors work upon the attention of the spectator. In more exact terms, we must ask what are the determinant features of this selective attention which is, and always has been, subject to manipulation by the producers of theatre. At the same time, it should be clear that it is not only a question of attracting the spectator's attention towards one thing but also of distracting it from something else. For the most part, these two modes of manipulation co- exist and are largely interdependent-often it is necessary to distract the spectator's attention from one thing in order to be able to attract it to- wards another thing. From the receiver's point of view, these modes can be labeled in more technical terms: focalization, defocalization, and refocalization.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I07

a confused jumble of disparate elements into a performance text fur- nished, at least potentially, with its own meaningfulness and coherence. This may seem trite inasmuch as it holds true for any other type of aes- thetic experience. However, in the case of theatrical performance, there is no doubt that the sensory faculties of the perceiving subject are called upon to sustain an effort to which, for both quantity and quality, there is no equivalent in any other artistic field. In this context, Roland Barthes spoke suggestively of a "polyphony of information" in theatrical perfor- mance, indicating the multiplicity of heterogeneous signs that are simulta- neously emitted (Barthes I963). Yet even this does not go far enough: to this polyphonic quality we must add that the performance text or, more exactly, its dense signifying surface, is characterized by its nondiscreteness (in that it is continuous), its instability (in that it is variable), and its imper- manence (in that it is ephemeral).

These textual and contextual features make it absolutely essential that spectators discard and even drastically eliminate some of the mass of stim- uli to which they are exposed both successively and simultaneously by the performance. (Of course, the spectator nearly always does this auto- matically and unconsciously.) This only becomes possible by actively en- gaging the two modes of "perceptive doing" (faire perceptif), which some psychologists have called "attentive focalization" and "selective attention." (Others describe the same process as a passage from a diffuse and passive "seeing" (voir) to an actively concentrated and sharply focused "watching" (regarder) [see Poppe I979].)

It is worth repeating that without this basic decoupage and selection car- ried out by their attention, the spectators would not be in a position to work out their own "reading" strategies for the performance, nor to give it first a local and then, gradually, a global meaning. The Belgian scholar Carlos Tindemans is therefore not exaggerating when he isolates this at- tention as the true "generator of coherence" in the theatre, the necessary premise to any "coherent understanding" of the performance text (1984).

For theatre practitioners all this is well-known and always has been. Efforts have always been directed at setting out what Grotowski calls "an itinerary for the spectator's attention." It is the same task which, in cine- ma, is left to the camera lens, though the camera works in a much more rigid way as far as a director or performer is concerned. In this regard, Grotowski also maintains that a theatre director should have "an invisible camera always taking in different shots and always directing the specta- tor's attention towards something" (I984:32).

DETERMINANT FEATURES OF THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

At this point we must examine how the director and actors work upon the attention of the spectator. In more exact terms, we must ask what are the determinant features of this selective attention which is, and always has been, subject to manipulation by the producers of theatre. At the same time, it should be clear that it is not only a question of attracting the spectator's attention towards one thing but also of distracting it from something else. For the most part, these two modes of manipulation co- exist and are largely interdependent-often it is necessary to distract the spectator's attention from one thing in order to be able to attract it to- wards another thing. From the receiver's point of view, these modes can be labeled in more technical terms: focalization, defocalization, and refocalization.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I07

a confused jumble of disparate elements into a performance text fur- nished, at least potentially, with its own meaningfulness and coherence. This may seem trite inasmuch as it holds true for any other type of aes- thetic experience. However, in the case of theatrical performance, there is no doubt that the sensory faculties of the perceiving subject are called upon to sustain an effort to which, for both quantity and quality, there is no equivalent in any other artistic field. In this context, Roland Barthes spoke suggestively of a "polyphony of information" in theatrical perfor- mance, indicating the multiplicity of heterogeneous signs that are simulta- neously emitted (Barthes I963). Yet even this does not go far enough: to this polyphonic quality we must add that the performance text or, more exactly, its dense signifying surface, is characterized by its nondiscreteness (in that it is continuous), its instability (in that it is variable), and its imper- manence (in that it is ephemeral).

These textual and contextual features make it absolutely essential that spectators discard and even drastically eliminate some of the mass of stim- uli to which they are exposed both successively and simultaneously by the performance. (Of course, the spectator nearly always does this auto- matically and unconsciously.) This only becomes possible by actively en- gaging the two modes of "perceptive doing" (faire perceptif), which some psychologists have called "attentive focalization" and "selective attention." (Others describe the same process as a passage from a diffuse and passive "seeing" (voir) to an actively concentrated and sharply focused "watching" (regarder) [see Poppe I979].)

It is worth repeating that without this basic decoupage and selection car- ried out by their attention, the spectators would not be in a position to work out their own "reading" strategies for the performance, nor to give it first a local and then, gradually, a global meaning. The Belgian scholar Carlos Tindemans is therefore not exaggerating when he isolates this at- tention as the true "generator of coherence" in the theatre, the necessary premise to any "coherent understanding" of the performance text (1984).

For theatre practitioners all this is well-known and always has been. Efforts have always been directed at setting out what Grotowski calls "an itinerary for the spectator's attention." It is the same task which, in cine- ma, is left to the camera lens, though the camera works in a much more rigid way as far as a director or performer is concerned. In this regard, Grotowski also maintains that a theatre director should have "an invisible camera always taking in different shots and always directing the specta- tor's attention towards something" (I984:32).

DETERMINANT FEATURES OF THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

At this point we must examine how the director and actors work upon the attention of the spectator. In more exact terms, we must ask what are the determinant features of this selective attention which is, and always has been, subject to manipulation by the producers of theatre. At the same time, it should be clear that it is not only a question of attracting the spectator's attention towards one thing but also of distracting it from something else. For the most part, these two modes of manipulation co- exist and are largely interdependent-often it is necessary to distract the spectator's attention from one thing in order to be able to attract it to- wards another thing. From the receiver's point of view, these modes can be labeled in more technical terms: focalization, defocalization, and refocalization.

Page 10: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

io8 Marco De Marinis io8 Marco De Marinis io8 Marco De Marinis io8 Marco De Marinis io8 Marco De Marinis io8 Marco De Marinis io8 Marco De Marinis

How THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION IS ATTRACTED

All of us are familiar with the number of resources and the occasional

sleight of hand which theatre practitioners have always used in order to distract and/or attract the spectator's attention. In the I6th century, for

example, noises or sudden trumpet blasts from the back of the audito- rium distracted the audience from the stage where the scenery would be

changed in full view in a matter of seconds. Here the lighting, the design, and the spatial layout are obviously important. On a more general level, however, the performance text predisposes and directs the spectator's at- tention by establishing a more or less explicit ranking of all its partial texts-the spoken text, the gestural text, the scenery, music, sound ef- fects, etc. Such a hierarchy may be brought into effect in two basic forms:

I. As a stable hierarchy which, broadly speaking, conforms to "rules of

genre," the most obvious example being the privileged status of the verbal text in the Western theatrical tradition.

2. As a shifting hierarchy where a whole range of focalizing and/or de-

focalizing devices operates within the one performance, a large portion of these devices being the scenic, lighting, and sound effects just men- tioned. Undoubtedly the classic example here is opera, where, at one time, it is the vocal part (aria, recitative) which comes to the fore and, at another, the musical part, the relationship between the parts remain-

ing inversely proportional and, as was suggested long ago by Abra- ham Moles, characteristic of the functioning of "multiple messages" (1958).

WHAT ATTRACTS THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

The performance engages an entire repertory of signals and devices by which it attracts and/or distracts the spectator's attention-this is the how of attraction and/or distraction. The next question, and it is a complex one, concerns the reasons why these performance devices are able to direct attention.

For some cases, the answer is obvious and the question itself appears simple-as in the case of an actor who is spotlighted downstage, or the

previous example of sudden noises diverting attention to wherever they come from. But not all cases are this simple. It may help to reformulate our question in more precise terms, first dividing it into two parts:

I. What sort of material characteristics (qualities sensible to perception) must theatrical actions and signs, or signals, possess in order to attract attention?

2. What characteristics must appear in the composition or "montage" of these actions and signs in order to produce the same desired result?

There is still no scientific literature on this matter applicable to the theatre, but I will point out one or two exceptions here. Fortunately, more advanced work has been going on in studies of the psychology of perception and in the new, partially related field of experimental aesthet- ics. This new field studies aesthetic behavior as a highly developed form

of"exploratory behavior," under which heading psychologists place "mul-

tiple activities all serving to provoke, prolong, and intensify the exposure of the sensory organs to a network of stimuli which are neither intrinsi- cally beneficial nor harmful" (Berlyne I972:I4I). Of particular interest is

How THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION IS ATTRACTED

All of us are familiar with the number of resources and the occasional

sleight of hand which theatre practitioners have always used in order to distract and/or attract the spectator's attention. In the I6th century, for

example, noises or sudden trumpet blasts from the back of the audito- rium distracted the audience from the stage where the scenery would be

changed in full view in a matter of seconds. Here the lighting, the design, and the spatial layout are obviously important. On a more general level, however, the performance text predisposes and directs the spectator's at- tention by establishing a more or less explicit ranking of all its partial texts-the spoken text, the gestural text, the scenery, music, sound ef- fects, etc. Such a hierarchy may be brought into effect in two basic forms:

I. As a stable hierarchy which, broadly speaking, conforms to "rules of

genre," the most obvious example being the privileged status of the verbal text in the Western theatrical tradition.

2. As a shifting hierarchy where a whole range of focalizing and/or de-

focalizing devices operates within the one performance, a large portion of these devices being the scenic, lighting, and sound effects just men- tioned. Undoubtedly the classic example here is opera, where, at one time, it is the vocal part (aria, recitative) which comes to the fore and, at another, the musical part, the relationship between the parts remain-

ing inversely proportional and, as was suggested long ago by Abra- ham Moles, characteristic of the functioning of "multiple messages" (1958).

WHAT ATTRACTS THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

The performance engages an entire repertory of signals and devices by which it attracts and/or distracts the spectator's attention-this is the how of attraction and/or distraction. The next question, and it is a complex one, concerns the reasons why these performance devices are able to direct attention.

For some cases, the answer is obvious and the question itself appears simple-as in the case of an actor who is spotlighted downstage, or the

previous example of sudden noises diverting attention to wherever they come from. But not all cases are this simple. It may help to reformulate our question in more precise terms, first dividing it into two parts:

I. What sort of material characteristics (qualities sensible to perception) must theatrical actions and signs, or signals, possess in order to attract attention?

2. What characteristics must appear in the composition or "montage" of these actions and signs in order to produce the same desired result?

There is still no scientific literature on this matter applicable to the theatre, but I will point out one or two exceptions here. Fortunately, more advanced work has been going on in studies of the psychology of perception and in the new, partially related field of experimental aesthet- ics. This new field studies aesthetic behavior as a highly developed form

of"exploratory behavior," under which heading psychologists place "mul-

tiple activities all serving to provoke, prolong, and intensify the exposure of the sensory organs to a network of stimuli which are neither intrinsi- cally beneficial nor harmful" (Berlyne I972:I4I). Of particular interest is

How THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION IS ATTRACTED

All of us are familiar with the number of resources and the occasional

sleight of hand which theatre practitioners have always used in order to distract and/or attract the spectator's attention. In the I6th century, for

example, noises or sudden trumpet blasts from the back of the audito- rium distracted the audience from the stage where the scenery would be

changed in full view in a matter of seconds. Here the lighting, the design, and the spatial layout are obviously important. On a more general level, however, the performance text predisposes and directs the spectator's at- tention by establishing a more or less explicit ranking of all its partial texts-the spoken text, the gestural text, the scenery, music, sound ef- fects, etc. Such a hierarchy may be brought into effect in two basic forms:

I. As a stable hierarchy which, broadly speaking, conforms to "rules of

genre," the most obvious example being the privileged status of the verbal text in the Western theatrical tradition.

2. As a shifting hierarchy where a whole range of focalizing and/or de-

focalizing devices operates within the one performance, a large portion of these devices being the scenic, lighting, and sound effects just men- tioned. Undoubtedly the classic example here is opera, where, at one time, it is the vocal part (aria, recitative) which comes to the fore and, at another, the musical part, the relationship between the parts remain-

ing inversely proportional and, as was suggested long ago by Abra- ham Moles, characteristic of the functioning of "multiple messages" (1958).

WHAT ATTRACTS THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

The performance engages an entire repertory of signals and devices by which it attracts and/or distracts the spectator's attention-this is the how of attraction and/or distraction. The next question, and it is a complex one, concerns the reasons why these performance devices are able to direct attention.

For some cases, the answer is obvious and the question itself appears simple-as in the case of an actor who is spotlighted downstage, or the

previous example of sudden noises diverting attention to wherever they come from. But not all cases are this simple. It may help to reformulate our question in more precise terms, first dividing it into two parts:

I. What sort of material characteristics (qualities sensible to perception) must theatrical actions and signs, or signals, possess in order to attract attention?

2. What characteristics must appear in the composition or "montage" of these actions and signs in order to produce the same desired result?

There is still no scientific literature on this matter applicable to the theatre, but I will point out one or two exceptions here. Fortunately, more advanced work has been going on in studies of the psychology of perception and in the new, partially related field of experimental aesthet- ics. This new field studies aesthetic behavior as a highly developed form

of"exploratory behavior," under which heading psychologists place "mul-

tiple activities all serving to provoke, prolong, and intensify the exposure of the sensory organs to a network of stimuli which are neither intrinsi- cally beneficial nor harmful" (Berlyne I972:I4I). Of particular interest is

How THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION IS ATTRACTED

All of us are familiar with the number of resources and the occasional

sleight of hand which theatre practitioners have always used in order to distract and/or attract the spectator's attention. In the I6th century, for

example, noises or sudden trumpet blasts from the back of the audito- rium distracted the audience from the stage where the scenery would be

changed in full view in a matter of seconds. Here the lighting, the design, and the spatial layout are obviously important. On a more general level, however, the performance text predisposes and directs the spectator's at- tention by establishing a more or less explicit ranking of all its partial texts-the spoken text, the gestural text, the scenery, music, sound ef- fects, etc. Such a hierarchy may be brought into effect in two basic forms:

I. As a stable hierarchy which, broadly speaking, conforms to "rules of

genre," the most obvious example being the privileged status of the verbal text in the Western theatrical tradition.

2. As a shifting hierarchy where a whole range of focalizing and/or de-

focalizing devices operates within the one performance, a large portion of these devices being the scenic, lighting, and sound effects just men- tioned. Undoubtedly the classic example here is opera, where, at one time, it is the vocal part (aria, recitative) which comes to the fore and, at another, the musical part, the relationship between the parts remain-

ing inversely proportional and, as was suggested long ago by Abra- ham Moles, characteristic of the functioning of "multiple messages" (1958).

WHAT ATTRACTS THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

The performance engages an entire repertory of signals and devices by which it attracts and/or distracts the spectator's attention-this is the how of attraction and/or distraction. The next question, and it is a complex one, concerns the reasons why these performance devices are able to direct attention.

For some cases, the answer is obvious and the question itself appears simple-as in the case of an actor who is spotlighted downstage, or the

previous example of sudden noises diverting attention to wherever they come from. But not all cases are this simple. It may help to reformulate our question in more precise terms, first dividing it into two parts:

I. What sort of material characteristics (qualities sensible to perception) must theatrical actions and signs, or signals, possess in order to attract attention?

2. What characteristics must appear in the composition or "montage" of these actions and signs in order to produce the same desired result?

There is still no scientific literature on this matter applicable to the theatre, but I will point out one or two exceptions here. Fortunately, more advanced work has been going on in studies of the psychology of perception and in the new, partially related field of experimental aesthet- ics. This new field studies aesthetic behavior as a highly developed form

of"exploratory behavior," under which heading psychologists place "mul-

tiple activities all serving to provoke, prolong, and intensify the exposure of the sensory organs to a network of stimuli which are neither intrinsi- cally beneficial nor harmful" (Berlyne I972:I4I). Of particular interest is

How THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION IS ATTRACTED

All of us are familiar with the number of resources and the occasional

sleight of hand which theatre practitioners have always used in order to distract and/or attract the spectator's attention. In the I6th century, for

example, noises or sudden trumpet blasts from the back of the audito- rium distracted the audience from the stage where the scenery would be

changed in full view in a matter of seconds. Here the lighting, the design, and the spatial layout are obviously important. On a more general level, however, the performance text predisposes and directs the spectator's at- tention by establishing a more or less explicit ranking of all its partial texts-the spoken text, the gestural text, the scenery, music, sound ef- fects, etc. Such a hierarchy may be brought into effect in two basic forms:

I. As a stable hierarchy which, broadly speaking, conforms to "rules of

genre," the most obvious example being the privileged status of the verbal text in the Western theatrical tradition.

2. As a shifting hierarchy where a whole range of focalizing and/or de-

focalizing devices operates within the one performance, a large portion of these devices being the scenic, lighting, and sound effects just men- tioned. Undoubtedly the classic example here is opera, where, at one time, it is the vocal part (aria, recitative) which comes to the fore and, at another, the musical part, the relationship between the parts remain-

ing inversely proportional and, as was suggested long ago by Abra- ham Moles, characteristic of the functioning of "multiple messages" (1958).

WHAT ATTRACTS THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

The performance engages an entire repertory of signals and devices by which it attracts and/or distracts the spectator's attention-this is the how of attraction and/or distraction. The next question, and it is a complex one, concerns the reasons why these performance devices are able to direct attention.

For some cases, the answer is obvious and the question itself appears simple-as in the case of an actor who is spotlighted downstage, or the

previous example of sudden noises diverting attention to wherever they come from. But not all cases are this simple. It may help to reformulate our question in more precise terms, first dividing it into two parts:

I. What sort of material characteristics (qualities sensible to perception) must theatrical actions and signs, or signals, possess in order to attract attention?

2. What characteristics must appear in the composition or "montage" of these actions and signs in order to produce the same desired result?

There is still no scientific literature on this matter applicable to the theatre, but I will point out one or two exceptions here. Fortunately, more advanced work has been going on in studies of the psychology of perception and in the new, partially related field of experimental aesthet- ics. This new field studies aesthetic behavior as a highly developed form

of"exploratory behavior," under which heading psychologists place "mul-

tiple activities all serving to provoke, prolong, and intensify the exposure of the sensory organs to a network of stimuli which are neither intrinsi- cally beneficial nor harmful" (Berlyne I972:I4I). Of particular interest is

How THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION IS ATTRACTED

All of us are familiar with the number of resources and the occasional

sleight of hand which theatre practitioners have always used in order to distract and/or attract the spectator's attention. In the I6th century, for

example, noises or sudden trumpet blasts from the back of the audito- rium distracted the audience from the stage where the scenery would be

changed in full view in a matter of seconds. Here the lighting, the design, and the spatial layout are obviously important. On a more general level, however, the performance text predisposes and directs the spectator's at- tention by establishing a more or less explicit ranking of all its partial texts-the spoken text, the gestural text, the scenery, music, sound ef- fects, etc. Such a hierarchy may be brought into effect in two basic forms:

I. As a stable hierarchy which, broadly speaking, conforms to "rules of

genre," the most obvious example being the privileged status of the verbal text in the Western theatrical tradition.

2. As a shifting hierarchy where a whole range of focalizing and/or de-

focalizing devices operates within the one performance, a large portion of these devices being the scenic, lighting, and sound effects just men- tioned. Undoubtedly the classic example here is opera, where, at one time, it is the vocal part (aria, recitative) which comes to the fore and, at another, the musical part, the relationship between the parts remain-

ing inversely proportional and, as was suggested long ago by Abra- ham Moles, characteristic of the functioning of "multiple messages" (1958).

WHAT ATTRACTS THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

The performance engages an entire repertory of signals and devices by which it attracts and/or distracts the spectator's attention-this is the how of attraction and/or distraction. The next question, and it is a complex one, concerns the reasons why these performance devices are able to direct attention.

For some cases, the answer is obvious and the question itself appears simple-as in the case of an actor who is spotlighted downstage, or the

previous example of sudden noises diverting attention to wherever they come from. But not all cases are this simple. It may help to reformulate our question in more precise terms, first dividing it into two parts:

I. What sort of material characteristics (qualities sensible to perception) must theatrical actions and signs, or signals, possess in order to attract attention?

2. What characteristics must appear in the composition or "montage" of these actions and signs in order to produce the same desired result?

There is still no scientific literature on this matter applicable to the theatre, but I will point out one or two exceptions here. Fortunately, more advanced work has been going on in studies of the psychology of perception and in the new, partially related field of experimental aesthet- ics. This new field studies aesthetic behavior as a highly developed form

of"exploratory behavior," under which heading psychologists place "mul-

tiple activities all serving to provoke, prolong, and intensify the exposure of the sensory organs to a network of stimuli which are neither intrinsi- cally beneficial nor harmful" (Berlyne I972:I4I). Of particular interest is

How THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION IS ATTRACTED

All of us are familiar with the number of resources and the occasional

sleight of hand which theatre practitioners have always used in order to distract and/or attract the spectator's attention. In the I6th century, for

example, noises or sudden trumpet blasts from the back of the audito- rium distracted the audience from the stage where the scenery would be

changed in full view in a matter of seconds. Here the lighting, the design, and the spatial layout are obviously important. On a more general level, however, the performance text predisposes and directs the spectator's at- tention by establishing a more or less explicit ranking of all its partial texts-the spoken text, the gestural text, the scenery, music, sound ef- fects, etc. Such a hierarchy may be brought into effect in two basic forms:

I. As a stable hierarchy which, broadly speaking, conforms to "rules of

genre," the most obvious example being the privileged status of the verbal text in the Western theatrical tradition.

2. As a shifting hierarchy where a whole range of focalizing and/or de-

focalizing devices operates within the one performance, a large portion of these devices being the scenic, lighting, and sound effects just men- tioned. Undoubtedly the classic example here is opera, where, at one time, it is the vocal part (aria, recitative) which comes to the fore and, at another, the musical part, the relationship between the parts remain-

ing inversely proportional and, as was suggested long ago by Abra- ham Moles, characteristic of the functioning of "multiple messages" (1958).

WHAT ATTRACTS THE SPECTATOR'S ATTENTION

The performance engages an entire repertory of signals and devices by which it attracts and/or distracts the spectator's attention-this is the how of attraction and/or distraction. The next question, and it is a complex one, concerns the reasons why these performance devices are able to direct attention.

For some cases, the answer is obvious and the question itself appears simple-as in the case of an actor who is spotlighted downstage, or the

previous example of sudden noises diverting attention to wherever they come from. But not all cases are this simple. It may help to reformulate our question in more precise terms, first dividing it into two parts:

I. What sort of material characteristics (qualities sensible to perception) must theatrical actions and signs, or signals, possess in order to attract attention?

2. What characteristics must appear in the composition or "montage" of these actions and signs in order to produce the same desired result?

There is still no scientific literature on this matter applicable to the theatre, but I will point out one or two exceptions here. Fortunately, more advanced work has been going on in studies of the psychology of perception and in the new, partially related field of experimental aesthet- ics. This new field studies aesthetic behavior as a highly developed form

of"exploratory behavior," under which heading psychologists place "mul-

tiple activities all serving to provoke, prolong, and intensify the exposure of the sensory organs to a network of stimuli which are neither intrinsi- cally beneficial nor harmful" (Berlyne I972:I4I). Of particular interest is

Page 11: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I09

Daniel Berlyne's research into the "collative properties" of these stimuli- those properties which can be shown to have a precise effect on the sub- ject's "exploratory behavior" and, specifically, on the workings of their selective attention. During a lengthy series of experimental studies, Ber- lyne managed to isolate the following collative properties (or variables): novelty, surprise, complexity, and oddity (1960, 1972, 1974, and 1976). Berlyne's results serve, in their own way, to confirm many earlier hy- potheses concerning just these sorts of problems as they have appeared in many different areas of study. Some ready examples are the concept of "distanciation" proposed by the Russian Formalists, the efforts of Gestalt psychology to show the relations between order, disorder, and complex- ity, and the findings of information theory regarding characteristics of the aesthetic message. Adding to these, Berlyne's results serve to corroborate some of the most recent suggestions which have emerged in connection with the theatre.

These suggestions have come from two different paths of inquiry, both of which cut across several disciplines, but with differing methods and objectives. Nevertheless, these two approaches meet at a point where they must both deal with the mechanisms used in the theatre to prime the spectator's attention. The first approach has been followed by a Dutch team of theatre researchers and psychologists during a series of empirical studies into performance reception (see Schoenmakers 1982, Tan 1982, Schoenmakers and Tan I984). The second approach appears in the work going on under the direction of Eugenio Barba at the International School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA). So far, ISTA has held four sessions (Bonn I980, Volterra 1981, Paris I985, and Holstebro I986) and of par- ticular interest has been the research into the techniques of the actor in which Barba has led an international teaching unit (see Barba I98I, I983a, I983b, I985).

Considering the same problem from opposite sides, these two paths have converged significantly on several points. The spectator's attention

appears to be the product of a certain type of psychophysiological disposi- tion which, in the appropriate scientific literature, goes under various names: arousal, excitation, curiosity, interest, etc. Among other things, this disposition is signalled by several neurophysiological activities, such as characteristic changes in electroencephalogram levels (EEG), sweating, changes in heartbeat, muscular tension, pupil dilation, etc. This state lead- ing up to the actual focusing of attention can be termed a "state of inter- est." In turn, this state of interest seems to be aroused by another, more basic psychophysiological state which may be called surprise or amaze- ment. Thus we have the sequence:

surprise -> interest * attention (with the obvious possibility of

feedback)

Putting it simply, this amounts to saying that in order to attract and di- rect the spectator's attention, the performance must first manage to sur- prise or amaze; that is, the performance must put into effect disruptive or manipulative strategies which will unsettle the spectator's expectations- both short and long term-and, in particular, her/his perceptive habits. And the performance must do this by introducing Berlyne's "collative properties"-elements of novelty, improbability, and oddity-in areas where the spectator habitually feels certain of her/himself.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I09

Daniel Berlyne's research into the "collative properties" of these stimuli- those properties which can be shown to have a precise effect on the sub- ject's "exploratory behavior" and, specifically, on the workings of their selective attention. During a lengthy series of experimental studies, Ber- lyne managed to isolate the following collative properties (or variables): novelty, surprise, complexity, and oddity (1960, 1972, 1974, and 1976). Berlyne's results serve, in their own way, to confirm many earlier hy- potheses concerning just these sorts of problems as they have appeared in many different areas of study. Some ready examples are the concept of "distanciation" proposed by the Russian Formalists, the efforts of Gestalt psychology to show the relations between order, disorder, and complex- ity, and the findings of information theory regarding characteristics of the aesthetic message. Adding to these, Berlyne's results serve to corroborate some of the most recent suggestions which have emerged in connection with the theatre.

These suggestions have come from two different paths of inquiry, both of which cut across several disciplines, but with differing methods and objectives. Nevertheless, these two approaches meet at a point where they must both deal with the mechanisms used in the theatre to prime the spectator's attention. The first approach has been followed by a Dutch team of theatre researchers and psychologists during a series of empirical studies into performance reception (see Schoenmakers 1982, Tan 1982, Schoenmakers and Tan I984). The second approach appears in the work going on under the direction of Eugenio Barba at the International School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA). So far, ISTA has held four sessions (Bonn I980, Volterra 1981, Paris I985, and Holstebro I986) and of par- ticular interest has been the research into the techniques of the actor in which Barba has led an international teaching unit (see Barba I98I, I983a, I983b, I985).

Considering the same problem from opposite sides, these two paths have converged significantly on several points. The spectator's attention

appears to be the product of a certain type of psychophysiological disposi- tion which, in the appropriate scientific literature, goes under various names: arousal, excitation, curiosity, interest, etc. Among other things, this disposition is signalled by several neurophysiological activities, such as characteristic changes in electroencephalogram levels (EEG), sweating, changes in heartbeat, muscular tension, pupil dilation, etc. This state lead- ing up to the actual focusing of attention can be termed a "state of inter- est." In turn, this state of interest seems to be aroused by another, more basic psychophysiological state which may be called surprise or amaze- ment. Thus we have the sequence:

surprise -> interest * attention (with the obvious possibility of

feedback)

Putting it simply, this amounts to saying that in order to attract and di- rect the spectator's attention, the performance must first manage to sur- prise or amaze; that is, the performance must put into effect disruptive or manipulative strategies which will unsettle the spectator's expectations- both short and long term-and, in particular, her/his perceptive habits. And the performance must do this by introducing Berlyne's "collative properties"-elements of novelty, improbability, and oddity-in areas where the spectator habitually feels certain of her/himself.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I09

Daniel Berlyne's research into the "collative properties" of these stimuli- those properties which can be shown to have a precise effect on the sub- ject's "exploratory behavior" and, specifically, on the workings of their selective attention. During a lengthy series of experimental studies, Ber- lyne managed to isolate the following collative properties (or variables): novelty, surprise, complexity, and oddity (1960, 1972, 1974, and 1976). Berlyne's results serve, in their own way, to confirm many earlier hy- potheses concerning just these sorts of problems as they have appeared in many different areas of study. Some ready examples are the concept of "distanciation" proposed by the Russian Formalists, the efforts of Gestalt psychology to show the relations between order, disorder, and complex- ity, and the findings of information theory regarding characteristics of the aesthetic message. Adding to these, Berlyne's results serve to corroborate some of the most recent suggestions which have emerged in connection with the theatre.

These suggestions have come from two different paths of inquiry, both of which cut across several disciplines, but with differing methods and objectives. Nevertheless, these two approaches meet at a point where they must both deal with the mechanisms used in the theatre to prime the spectator's attention. The first approach has been followed by a Dutch team of theatre researchers and psychologists during a series of empirical studies into performance reception (see Schoenmakers 1982, Tan 1982, Schoenmakers and Tan I984). The second approach appears in the work going on under the direction of Eugenio Barba at the International School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA). So far, ISTA has held four sessions (Bonn I980, Volterra 1981, Paris I985, and Holstebro I986) and of par- ticular interest has been the research into the techniques of the actor in which Barba has led an international teaching unit (see Barba I98I, I983a, I983b, I985).

Considering the same problem from opposite sides, these two paths have converged significantly on several points. The spectator's attention

appears to be the product of a certain type of psychophysiological disposi- tion which, in the appropriate scientific literature, goes under various names: arousal, excitation, curiosity, interest, etc. Among other things, this disposition is signalled by several neurophysiological activities, such as characteristic changes in electroencephalogram levels (EEG), sweating, changes in heartbeat, muscular tension, pupil dilation, etc. This state lead- ing up to the actual focusing of attention can be termed a "state of inter- est." In turn, this state of interest seems to be aroused by another, more basic psychophysiological state which may be called surprise or amaze- ment. Thus we have the sequence:

surprise -> interest * attention (with the obvious possibility of

feedback)

Putting it simply, this amounts to saying that in order to attract and di- rect the spectator's attention, the performance must first manage to sur- prise or amaze; that is, the performance must put into effect disruptive or manipulative strategies which will unsettle the spectator's expectations- both short and long term-and, in particular, her/his perceptive habits. And the performance must do this by introducing Berlyne's "collative properties"-elements of novelty, improbability, and oddity-in areas where the spectator habitually feels certain of her/himself.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I09

Daniel Berlyne's research into the "collative properties" of these stimuli- those properties which can be shown to have a precise effect on the sub- ject's "exploratory behavior" and, specifically, on the workings of their selective attention. During a lengthy series of experimental studies, Ber- lyne managed to isolate the following collative properties (or variables): novelty, surprise, complexity, and oddity (1960, 1972, 1974, and 1976). Berlyne's results serve, in their own way, to confirm many earlier hy- potheses concerning just these sorts of problems as they have appeared in many different areas of study. Some ready examples are the concept of "distanciation" proposed by the Russian Formalists, the efforts of Gestalt psychology to show the relations between order, disorder, and complex- ity, and the findings of information theory regarding characteristics of the aesthetic message. Adding to these, Berlyne's results serve to corroborate some of the most recent suggestions which have emerged in connection with the theatre.

These suggestions have come from two different paths of inquiry, both of which cut across several disciplines, but with differing methods and objectives. Nevertheless, these two approaches meet at a point where they must both deal with the mechanisms used in the theatre to prime the spectator's attention. The first approach has been followed by a Dutch team of theatre researchers and psychologists during a series of empirical studies into performance reception (see Schoenmakers 1982, Tan 1982, Schoenmakers and Tan I984). The second approach appears in the work going on under the direction of Eugenio Barba at the International School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA). So far, ISTA has held four sessions (Bonn I980, Volterra 1981, Paris I985, and Holstebro I986) and of par- ticular interest has been the research into the techniques of the actor in which Barba has led an international teaching unit (see Barba I98I, I983a, I983b, I985).

Considering the same problem from opposite sides, these two paths have converged significantly on several points. The spectator's attention

appears to be the product of a certain type of psychophysiological disposi- tion which, in the appropriate scientific literature, goes under various names: arousal, excitation, curiosity, interest, etc. Among other things, this disposition is signalled by several neurophysiological activities, such as characteristic changes in electroencephalogram levels (EEG), sweating, changes in heartbeat, muscular tension, pupil dilation, etc. This state lead- ing up to the actual focusing of attention can be termed a "state of inter- est." In turn, this state of interest seems to be aroused by another, more basic psychophysiological state which may be called surprise or amaze- ment. Thus we have the sequence:

surprise -> interest * attention (with the obvious possibility of

feedback)

Putting it simply, this amounts to saying that in order to attract and di- rect the spectator's attention, the performance must first manage to sur- prise or amaze; that is, the performance must put into effect disruptive or manipulative strategies which will unsettle the spectator's expectations- both short and long term-and, in particular, her/his perceptive habits. And the performance must do this by introducing Berlyne's "collative properties"-elements of novelty, improbability, and oddity-in areas where the spectator habitually feels certain of her/himself.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I09

Daniel Berlyne's research into the "collative properties" of these stimuli- those properties which can be shown to have a precise effect on the sub- ject's "exploratory behavior" and, specifically, on the workings of their selective attention. During a lengthy series of experimental studies, Ber- lyne managed to isolate the following collative properties (or variables): novelty, surprise, complexity, and oddity (1960, 1972, 1974, and 1976). Berlyne's results serve, in their own way, to confirm many earlier hy- potheses concerning just these sorts of problems as they have appeared in many different areas of study. Some ready examples are the concept of "distanciation" proposed by the Russian Formalists, the efforts of Gestalt psychology to show the relations between order, disorder, and complex- ity, and the findings of information theory regarding characteristics of the aesthetic message. Adding to these, Berlyne's results serve to corroborate some of the most recent suggestions which have emerged in connection with the theatre.

These suggestions have come from two different paths of inquiry, both of which cut across several disciplines, but with differing methods and objectives. Nevertheless, these two approaches meet at a point where they must both deal with the mechanisms used in the theatre to prime the spectator's attention. The first approach has been followed by a Dutch team of theatre researchers and psychologists during a series of empirical studies into performance reception (see Schoenmakers 1982, Tan 1982, Schoenmakers and Tan I984). The second approach appears in the work going on under the direction of Eugenio Barba at the International School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA). So far, ISTA has held four sessions (Bonn I980, Volterra 1981, Paris I985, and Holstebro I986) and of par- ticular interest has been the research into the techniques of the actor in which Barba has led an international teaching unit (see Barba I98I, I983a, I983b, I985).

Considering the same problem from opposite sides, these two paths have converged significantly on several points. The spectator's attention

appears to be the product of a certain type of psychophysiological disposi- tion which, in the appropriate scientific literature, goes under various names: arousal, excitation, curiosity, interest, etc. Among other things, this disposition is signalled by several neurophysiological activities, such as characteristic changes in electroencephalogram levels (EEG), sweating, changes in heartbeat, muscular tension, pupil dilation, etc. This state lead- ing up to the actual focusing of attention can be termed a "state of inter- est." In turn, this state of interest seems to be aroused by another, more basic psychophysiological state which may be called surprise or amaze- ment. Thus we have the sequence:

surprise -> interest * attention (with the obvious possibility of

feedback)

Putting it simply, this amounts to saying that in order to attract and di- rect the spectator's attention, the performance must first manage to sur- prise or amaze; that is, the performance must put into effect disruptive or manipulative strategies which will unsettle the spectator's expectations- both short and long term-and, in particular, her/his perceptive habits. And the performance must do this by introducing Berlyne's "collative properties"-elements of novelty, improbability, and oddity-in areas where the spectator habitually feels certain of her/himself.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I09

Daniel Berlyne's research into the "collative properties" of these stimuli- those properties which can be shown to have a precise effect on the sub- ject's "exploratory behavior" and, specifically, on the workings of their selective attention. During a lengthy series of experimental studies, Ber- lyne managed to isolate the following collative properties (or variables): novelty, surprise, complexity, and oddity (1960, 1972, 1974, and 1976). Berlyne's results serve, in their own way, to confirm many earlier hy- potheses concerning just these sorts of problems as they have appeared in many different areas of study. Some ready examples are the concept of "distanciation" proposed by the Russian Formalists, the efforts of Gestalt psychology to show the relations between order, disorder, and complex- ity, and the findings of information theory regarding characteristics of the aesthetic message. Adding to these, Berlyne's results serve to corroborate some of the most recent suggestions which have emerged in connection with the theatre.

These suggestions have come from two different paths of inquiry, both of which cut across several disciplines, but with differing methods and objectives. Nevertheless, these two approaches meet at a point where they must both deal with the mechanisms used in the theatre to prime the spectator's attention. The first approach has been followed by a Dutch team of theatre researchers and psychologists during a series of empirical studies into performance reception (see Schoenmakers 1982, Tan 1982, Schoenmakers and Tan I984). The second approach appears in the work going on under the direction of Eugenio Barba at the International School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA). So far, ISTA has held four sessions (Bonn I980, Volterra 1981, Paris I985, and Holstebro I986) and of par- ticular interest has been the research into the techniques of the actor in which Barba has led an international teaching unit (see Barba I98I, I983a, I983b, I985).

Considering the same problem from opposite sides, these two paths have converged significantly on several points. The spectator's attention

appears to be the product of a certain type of psychophysiological disposi- tion which, in the appropriate scientific literature, goes under various names: arousal, excitation, curiosity, interest, etc. Among other things, this disposition is signalled by several neurophysiological activities, such as characteristic changes in electroencephalogram levels (EEG), sweating, changes in heartbeat, muscular tension, pupil dilation, etc. This state lead- ing up to the actual focusing of attention can be termed a "state of inter- est." In turn, this state of interest seems to be aroused by another, more basic psychophysiological state which may be called surprise or amaze- ment. Thus we have the sequence:

surprise -> interest * attention (with the obvious possibility of

feedback)

Putting it simply, this amounts to saying that in order to attract and di- rect the spectator's attention, the performance must first manage to sur- prise or amaze; that is, the performance must put into effect disruptive or manipulative strategies which will unsettle the spectator's expectations- both short and long term-and, in particular, her/his perceptive habits. And the performance must do this by introducing Berlyne's "collative properties"-elements of novelty, improbability, and oddity-in areas where the spectator habitually feels certain of her/himself.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I09

Daniel Berlyne's research into the "collative properties" of these stimuli- those properties which can be shown to have a precise effect on the sub- ject's "exploratory behavior" and, specifically, on the workings of their selective attention. During a lengthy series of experimental studies, Ber- lyne managed to isolate the following collative properties (or variables): novelty, surprise, complexity, and oddity (1960, 1972, 1974, and 1976). Berlyne's results serve, in their own way, to confirm many earlier hy- potheses concerning just these sorts of problems as they have appeared in many different areas of study. Some ready examples are the concept of "distanciation" proposed by the Russian Formalists, the efforts of Gestalt psychology to show the relations between order, disorder, and complex- ity, and the findings of information theory regarding characteristics of the aesthetic message. Adding to these, Berlyne's results serve to corroborate some of the most recent suggestions which have emerged in connection with the theatre.

These suggestions have come from two different paths of inquiry, both of which cut across several disciplines, but with differing methods and objectives. Nevertheless, these two approaches meet at a point where they must both deal with the mechanisms used in the theatre to prime the spectator's attention. The first approach has been followed by a Dutch team of theatre researchers and psychologists during a series of empirical studies into performance reception (see Schoenmakers 1982, Tan 1982, Schoenmakers and Tan I984). The second approach appears in the work going on under the direction of Eugenio Barba at the International School of Theatre Anthropology (ISTA). So far, ISTA has held four sessions (Bonn I980, Volterra 1981, Paris I985, and Holstebro I986) and of par- ticular interest has been the research into the techniques of the actor in which Barba has led an international teaching unit (see Barba I98I, I983a, I983b, I985).

Considering the same problem from opposite sides, these two paths have converged significantly on several points. The spectator's attention

appears to be the product of a certain type of psychophysiological disposi- tion which, in the appropriate scientific literature, goes under various names: arousal, excitation, curiosity, interest, etc. Among other things, this disposition is signalled by several neurophysiological activities, such as characteristic changes in electroencephalogram levels (EEG), sweating, changes in heartbeat, muscular tension, pupil dilation, etc. This state lead- ing up to the actual focusing of attention can be termed a "state of inter- est." In turn, this state of interest seems to be aroused by another, more basic psychophysiological state which may be called surprise or amaze- ment. Thus we have the sequence:

surprise -> interest * attention (with the obvious possibility of

feedback)

Putting it simply, this amounts to saying that in order to attract and di- rect the spectator's attention, the performance must first manage to sur- prise or amaze; that is, the performance must put into effect disruptive or manipulative strategies which will unsettle the spectator's expectations- both short and long term-and, in particular, her/his perceptive habits. And the performance must do this by introducing Berlyne's "collative properties"-elements of novelty, improbability, and oddity-in areas where the spectator habitually feels certain of her/himself.

Page 12: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

I Io Marco De Marinis I Io Marco De Marinis I Io Marco De Marinis I Io Marco De Marinis I Io Marco De Marinis I Io Marco De Marinis I Io Marco De Marinis

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES OF THE ACTOR

In their research into theatre anthropology, Barba and his team at ISTA have identified these "disruptive strategies" largely in terms of the funda- mental techniques of the actor. They have described these techniques as "extra-ordinary" or "extra-daily," since they are based primarily on the transgression of the biological and physical laws governing our "normal" everyday bodily and mental behavior-the fundamental laws of gravity, inertia, and the rule of least effort. According to Barba, the following theatrical principles all transgress these laws and form the basis-both intercultural and pre-expressive-of performer's techniques:

I. The principle of "altered balance" (or "ultra-tuned" balance); 2. The principle of "opposition" (for the actor, every impulse must al-

ways be met by a counter-impulse); 3. The principle of "simplification" ("the omission of some elements in

order to promote other elements which thus appear essential"); 4. The principle of "surplus energy" ("a maximum of energy input for a

minimum effect").'

It is precisely through the workings of these extra-ordinary techniques that the actor is able to "disrupt" the expectations and perceptive habits of the spectators, to surprise them and draw their attention. And this takes place even before the performer seeks to attract the spectator with the wonder of a story, or a manner of delivery; it takes place simply with the performer "giving shape" to her/his own body-making a "fictitious," "artificial" body which draws out/deforms/amplifies the normal tensions of the human body. We might consider this pre-expressive level of extra- ordinary techniques as the foundation on which the performer builds per- formance. There are, of course, many other sources for this: on one hand, the relevant socio-cultural context, the technical and expressive conven- tions of the actor's art; on the other, the performer's own personality and talent. Nevertheless, for the performer, just as for everyone else, nothing good is built except on solid foundations. Thus, it is at this pre-expressive level that the actor displays an ability (or lack thereof) as a maitre du regard; that is, a relative capacity for carrying out the manipulation (montaggio in Barba's terms) of the spectator's attention which is necessary to a success- ful working of the theatrical relationship.

But as Richard Schechner (I986) suggests, even ordinary behavior, if properly framed, can be theatrical; e.g., pedestrian movement in dance and naturalistic, documentary, or news film/TV. What makes such things "theatrical" are their editing and framing, devices which belong solely to the director, choreographer, or editor. In such cases the extra-ordinary does not depend on the performer (who may even be a non-actor doing ordinary things) but rather on the ways performers' actions are "treated."

Conclusions

My concluding remarks follow on from this discussion of the formal means and determinant conditions involved in the spectator's selective attention.

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES/"VIRTUOSO" TECHNIQUES

A very interesting parallel presents itself between Barba's view of the dialectic between ordinary and extra-ordinary techniques, and the conclu-

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES OF THE ACTOR

In their research into theatre anthropology, Barba and his team at ISTA have identified these "disruptive strategies" largely in terms of the funda- mental techniques of the actor. They have described these techniques as "extra-ordinary" or "extra-daily," since they are based primarily on the transgression of the biological and physical laws governing our "normal" everyday bodily and mental behavior-the fundamental laws of gravity, inertia, and the rule of least effort. According to Barba, the following theatrical principles all transgress these laws and form the basis-both intercultural and pre-expressive-of performer's techniques:

I. The principle of "altered balance" (or "ultra-tuned" balance); 2. The principle of "opposition" (for the actor, every impulse must al-

ways be met by a counter-impulse); 3. The principle of "simplification" ("the omission of some elements in

order to promote other elements which thus appear essential"); 4. The principle of "surplus energy" ("a maximum of energy input for a

minimum effect").'

It is precisely through the workings of these extra-ordinary techniques that the actor is able to "disrupt" the expectations and perceptive habits of the spectators, to surprise them and draw their attention. And this takes place even before the performer seeks to attract the spectator with the wonder of a story, or a manner of delivery; it takes place simply with the performer "giving shape" to her/his own body-making a "fictitious," "artificial" body which draws out/deforms/amplifies the normal tensions of the human body. We might consider this pre-expressive level of extra- ordinary techniques as the foundation on which the performer builds per- formance. There are, of course, many other sources for this: on one hand, the relevant socio-cultural context, the technical and expressive conven- tions of the actor's art; on the other, the performer's own personality and talent. Nevertheless, for the performer, just as for everyone else, nothing good is built except on solid foundations. Thus, it is at this pre-expressive level that the actor displays an ability (or lack thereof) as a maitre du regard; that is, a relative capacity for carrying out the manipulation (montaggio in Barba's terms) of the spectator's attention which is necessary to a success- ful working of the theatrical relationship.

But as Richard Schechner (I986) suggests, even ordinary behavior, if properly framed, can be theatrical; e.g., pedestrian movement in dance and naturalistic, documentary, or news film/TV. What makes such things "theatrical" are their editing and framing, devices which belong solely to the director, choreographer, or editor. In such cases the extra-ordinary does not depend on the performer (who may even be a non-actor doing ordinary things) but rather on the ways performers' actions are "treated."

Conclusions

My concluding remarks follow on from this discussion of the formal means and determinant conditions involved in the spectator's selective attention.

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES/"VIRTUOSO" TECHNIQUES

A very interesting parallel presents itself between Barba's view of the dialectic between ordinary and extra-ordinary techniques, and the conclu-

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES OF THE ACTOR

In their research into theatre anthropology, Barba and his team at ISTA have identified these "disruptive strategies" largely in terms of the funda- mental techniques of the actor. They have described these techniques as "extra-ordinary" or "extra-daily," since they are based primarily on the transgression of the biological and physical laws governing our "normal" everyday bodily and mental behavior-the fundamental laws of gravity, inertia, and the rule of least effort. According to Barba, the following theatrical principles all transgress these laws and form the basis-both intercultural and pre-expressive-of performer's techniques:

I. The principle of "altered balance" (or "ultra-tuned" balance); 2. The principle of "opposition" (for the actor, every impulse must al-

ways be met by a counter-impulse); 3. The principle of "simplification" ("the omission of some elements in

order to promote other elements which thus appear essential"); 4. The principle of "surplus energy" ("a maximum of energy input for a

minimum effect").'

It is precisely through the workings of these extra-ordinary techniques that the actor is able to "disrupt" the expectations and perceptive habits of the spectators, to surprise them and draw their attention. And this takes place even before the performer seeks to attract the spectator with the wonder of a story, or a manner of delivery; it takes place simply with the performer "giving shape" to her/his own body-making a "fictitious," "artificial" body which draws out/deforms/amplifies the normal tensions of the human body. We might consider this pre-expressive level of extra- ordinary techniques as the foundation on which the performer builds per- formance. There are, of course, many other sources for this: on one hand, the relevant socio-cultural context, the technical and expressive conven- tions of the actor's art; on the other, the performer's own personality and talent. Nevertheless, for the performer, just as for everyone else, nothing good is built except on solid foundations. Thus, it is at this pre-expressive level that the actor displays an ability (or lack thereof) as a maitre du regard; that is, a relative capacity for carrying out the manipulation (montaggio in Barba's terms) of the spectator's attention which is necessary to a success- ful working of the theatrical relationship.

But as Richard Schechner (I986) suggests, even ordinary behavior, if properly framed, can be theatrical; e.g., pedestrian movement in dance and naturalistic, documentary, or news film/TV. What makes such things "theatrical" are their editing and framing, devices which belong solely to the director, choreographer, or editor. In such cases the extra-ordinary does not depend on the performer (who may even be a non-actor doing ordinary things) but rather on the ways performers' actions are "treated."

Conclusions

My concluding remarks follow on from this discussion of the formal means and determinant conditions involved in the spectator's selective attention.

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES/"VIRTUOSO" TECHNIQUES

A very interesting parallel presents itself between Barba's view of the dialectic between ordinary and extra-ordinary techniques, and the conclu-

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES OF THE ACTOR

In their research into theatre anthropology, Barba and his team at ISTA have identified these "disruptive strategies" largely in terms of the funda- mental techniques of the actor. They have described these techniques as "extra-ordinary" or "extra-daily," since they are based primarily on the transgression of the biological and physical laws governing our "normal" everyday bodily and mental behavior-the fundamental laws of gravity, inertia, and the rule of least effort. According to Barba, the following theatrical principles all transgress these laws and form the basis-both intercultural and pre-expressive-of performer's techniques:

I. The principle of "altered balance" (or "ultra-tuned" balance); 2. The principle of "opposition" (for the actor, every impulse must al-

ways be met by a counter-impulse); 3. The principle of "simplification" ("the omission of some elements in

order to promote other elements which thus appear essential"); 4. The principle of "surplus energy" ("a maximum of energy input for a

minimum effect").'

It is precisely through the workings of these extra-ordinary techniques that the actor is able to "disrupt" the expectations and perceptive habits of the spectators, to surprise them and draw their attention. And this takes place even before the performer seeks to attract the spectator with the wonder of a story, or a manner of delivery; it takes place simply with the performer "giving shape" to her/his own body-making a "fictitious," "artificial" body which draws out/deforms/amplifies the normal tensions of the human body. We might consider this pre-expressive level of extra- ordinary techniques as the foundation on which the performer builds per- formance. There are, of course, many other sources for this: on one hand, the relevant socio-cultural context, the technical and expressive conven- tions of the actor's art; on the other, the performer's own personality and talent. Nevertheless, for the performer, just as for everyone else, nothing good is built except on solid foundations. Thus, it is at this pre-expressive level that the actor displays an ability (or lack thereof) as a maitre du regard; that is, a relative capacity for carrying out the manipulation (montaggio in Barba's terms) of the spectator's attention which is necessary to a success- ful working of the theatrical relationship.

But as Richard Schechner (I986) suggests, even ordinary behavior, if properly framed, can be theatrical; e.g., pedestrian movement in dance and naturalistic, documentary, or news film/TV. What makes such things "theatrical" are their editing and framing, devices which belong solely to the director, choreographer, or editor. In such cases the extra-ordinary does not depend on the performer (who may even be a non-actor doing ordinary things) but rather on the ways performers' actions are "treated."

Conclusions

My concluding remarks follow on from this discussion of the formal means and determinant conditions involved in the spectator's selective attention.

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES/"VIRTUOSO" TECHNIQUES

A very interesting parallel presents itself between Barba's view of the dialectic between ordinary and extra-ordinary techniques, and the conclu-

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES OF THE ACTOR

In their research into theatre anthropology, Barba and his team at ISTA have identified these "disruptive strategies" largely in terms of the funda- mental techniques of the actor. They have described these techniques as "extra-ordinary" or "extra-daily," since they are based primarily on the transgression of the biological and physical laws governing our "normal" everyday bodily and mental behavior-the fundamental laws of gravity, inertia, and the rule of least effort. According to Barba, the following theatrical principles all transgress these laws and form the basis-both intercultural and pre-expressive-of performer's techniques:

I. The principle of "altered balance" (or "ultra-tuned" balance); 2. The principle of "opposition" (for the actor, every impulse must al-

ways be met by a counter-impulse); 3. The principle of "simplification" ("the omission of some elements in

order to promote other elements which thus appear essential"); 4. The principle of "surplus energy" ("a maximum of energy input for a

minimum effect").'

It is precisely through the workings of these extra-ordinary techniques that the actor is able to "disrupt" the expectations and perceptive habits of the spectators, to surprise them and draw their attention. And this takes place even before the performer seeks to attract the spectator with the wonder of a story, or a manner of delivery; it takes place simply with the performer "giving shape" to her/his own body-making a "fictitious," "artificial" body which draws out/deforms/amplifies the normal tensions of the human body. We might consider this pre-expressive level of extra- ordinary techniques as the foundation on which the performer builds per- formance. There are, of course, many other sources for this: on one hand, the relevant socio-cultural context, the technical and expressive conven- tions of the actor's art; on the other, the performer's own personality and talent. Nevertheless, for the performer, just as for everyone else, nothing good is built except on solid foundations. Thus, it is at this pre-expressive level that the actor displays an ability (or lack thereof) as a maitre du regard; that is, a relative capacity for carrying out the manipulation (montaggio in Barba's terms) of the spectator's attention which is necessary to a success- ful working of the theatrical relationship.

But as Richard Schechner (I986) suggests, even ordinary behavior, if properly framed, can be theatrical; e.g., pedestrian movement in dance and naturalistic, documentary, or news film/TV. What makes such things "theatrical" are their editing and framing, devices which belong solely to the director, choreographer, or editor. In such cases the extra-ordinary does not depend on the performer (who may even be a non-actor doing ordinary things) but rather on the ways performers' actions are "treated."

Conclusions

My concluding remarks follow on from this discussion of the formal means and determinant conditions involved in the spectator's selective attention.

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES/"VIRTUOSO" TECHNIQUES

A very interesting parallel presents itself between Barba's view of the dialectic between ordinary and extra-ordinary techniques, and the conclu-

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES OF THE ACTOR

In their research into theatre anthropology, Barba and his team at ISTA have identified these "disruptive strategies" largely in terms of the funda- mental techniques of the actor. They have described these techniques as "extra-ordinary" or "extra-daily," since they are based primarily on the transgression of the biological and physical laws governing our "normal" everyday bodily and mental behavior-the fundamental laws of gravity, inertia, and the rule of least effort. According to Barba, the following theatrical principles all transgress these laws and form the basis-both intercultural and pre-expressive-of performer's techniques:

I. The principle of "altered balance" (or "ultra-tuned" balance); 2. The principle of "opposition" (for the actor, every impulse must al-

ways be met by a counter-impulse); 3. The principle of "simplification" ("the omission of some elements in

order to promote other elements which thus appear essential"); 4. The principle of "surplus energy" ("a maximum of energy input for a

minimum effect").'

It is precisely through the workings of these extra-ordinary techniques that the actor is able to "disrupt" the expectations and perceptive habits of the spectators, to surprise them and draw their attention. And this takes place even before the performer seeks to attract the spectator with the wonder of a story, or a manner of delivery; it takes place simply with the performer "giving shape" to her/his own body-making a "fictitious," "artificial" body which draws out/deforms/amplifies the normal tensions of the human body. We might consider this pre-expressive level of extra- ordinary techniques as the foundation on which the performer builds per- formance. There are, of course, many other sources for this: on one hand, the relevant socio-cultural context, the technical and expressive conven- tions of the actor's art; on the other, the performer's own personality and talent. Nevertheless, for the performer, just as for everyone else, nothing good is built except on solid foundations. Thus, it is at this pre-expressive level that the actor displays an ability (or lack thereof) as a maitre du regard; that is, a relative capacity for carrying out the manipulation (montaggio in Barba's terms) of the spectator's attention which is necessary to a success- ful working of the theatrical relationship.

But as Richard Schechner (I986) suggests, even ordinary behavior, if properly framed, can be theatrical; e.g., pedestrian movement in dance and naturalistic, documentary, or news film/TV. What makes such things "theatrical" are their editing and framing, devices which belong solely to the director, choreographer, or editor. In such cases the extra-ordinary does not depend on the performer (who may even be a non-actor doing ordinary things) but rather on the ways performers' actions are "treated."

Conclusions

My concluding remarks follow on from this discussion of the formal means and determinant conditions involved in the spectator's selective attention.

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES/"VIRTUOSO" TECHNIQUES

A very interesting parallel presents itself between Barba's view of the dialectic between ordinary and extra-ordinary techniques, and the conclu-

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES OF THE ACTOR

In their research into theatre anthropology, Barba and his team at ISTA have identified these "disruptive strategies" largely in terms of the funda- mental techniques of the actor. They have described these techniques as "extra-ordinary" or "extra-daily," since they are based primarily on the transgression of the biological and physical laws governing our "normal" everyday bodily and mental behavior-the fundamental laws of gravity, inertia, and the rule of least effort. According to Barba, the following theatrical principles all transgress these laws and form the basis-both intercultural and pre-expressive-of performer's techniques:

I. The principle of "altered balance" (or "ultra-tuned" balance); 2. The principle of "opposition" (for the actor, every impulse must al-

ways be met by a counter-impulse); 3. The principle of "simplification" ("the omission of some elements in

order to promote other elements which thus appear essential"); 4. The principle of "surplus energy" ("a maximum of energy input for a

minimum effect").'

It is precisely through the workings of these extra-ordinary techniques that the actor is able to "disrupt" the expectations and perceptive habits of the spectators, to surprise them and draw their attention. And this takes place even before the performer seeks to attract the spectator with the wonder of a story, or a manner of delivery; it takes place simply with the performer "giving shape" to her/his own body-making a "fictitious," "artificial" body which draws out/deforms/amplifies the normal tensions of the human body. We might consider this pre-expressive level of extra- ordinary techniques as the foundation on which the performer builds per- formance. There are, of course, many other sources for this: on one hand, the relevant socio-cultural context, the technical and expressive conven- tions of the actor's art; on the other, the performer's own personality and talent. Nevertheless, for the performer, just as for everyone else, nothing good is built except on solid foundations. Thus, it is at this pre-expressive level that the actor displays an ability (or lack thereof) as a maitre du regard; that is, a relative capacity for carrying out the manipulation (montaggio in Barba's terms) of the spectator's attention which is necessary to a success- ful working of the theatrical relationship.

But as Richard Schechner (I986) suggests, even ordinary behavior, if properly framed, can be theatrical; e.g., pedestrian movement in dance and naturalistic, documentary, or news film/TV. What makes such things "theatrical" are their editing and framing, devices which belong solely to the director, choreographer, or editor. In such cases the extra-ordinary does not depend on the performer (who may even be a non-actor doing ordinary things) but rather on the ways performers' actions are "treated."

Conclusions

My concluding remarks follow on from this discussion of the formal means and determinant conditions involved in the spectator's selective attention.

EXTRA-ORDINARY TECHNIQUES/"VIRTUOSO" TECHNIQUES

A very interesting parallel presents itself between Barba's view of the dialectic between ordinary and extra-ordinary techniques, and the conclu-

Page 13: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I I

sions of experimental aesthetics. These conclusions argue that "some of the effects brought on by new stimuli [ .. . ] do not achieve maximum strength with a maximum of novelty," but rather with "an intermediate level of novelty" (Berlyne I960:64). In relation to the techniques of ac- robats and those sometimes used in Beijing opera, Barba has similarly observed that in such cases "it is no longer a matter of extra-ordinary techniques but simply one of 'other techniques.'" In these other tech- niques, "there is no longer the tension caused by a deviation from the norm, nor the sort of 'elastic energy' which characterizes extra-ordinary techniques in opposition to ordinary ones. In other words, it is no longer a matter of dialectical relationship but only of distance: the inaccessibility, in short, which the body of a 'virtuoso' performer represents" (I981:73). These observations are corroborated by the results of experiments on vi- sual perception which show, as I mentioned, that "clusters of stimuli are judged more favorably when they fall within an intermediate scale of novelty and complexity" (Berlyne I972:I48). These observations form an excellent starting point for more detailed analysis of the qualities particu- lar to theatrical attention and, I would add, to artistic attention in general. It is also the basis for analysis of those stimuli which are most capable of arousing attention in the theatre precisely by playing upon the dialectic of novel/known, strange/familiar, complex/simple, unexpected/predictable, odd/consistent.

DISRUPTIVE FEATURES "OF" THE PERFORMANCE/DISRUPTIVE

FEATURES "WITHIN" THE PERFORMANCE

In defining the actor's techniques as extra-ordinary, Barba insists on the way they "disrupt" the spectator by opposing-though it is a dialectical, "elastic" opposition-the techniques used in everyday life. However, it is clear that a performance can disrupt or frustrate expectations, producing effects of surprise and increased attention, in many other ways and on many different levels. The disruptive features of the performance also ap- pear on the level of general theatrical expectations. Here, the disruption no longer arises in the opposition of theatre to everyday life but rather in the opposition of the performance to theatre. One example of this would be a work breaking the conventions of dramatic fiction long since part of the average audience member's competence. On this level of specific the- atrical expectations, one might think of the opera buff who turns up at Peter Brook's Carmen expecting to see an authentic staging of the Bizet work.

This list of disruptive features could easily be extended, bearing in mind expectations having to do with the context of the performance, the precedents set by the various producers of the performance, etc. Howev- er, what I wish to make clear is that alongside these disruptive features of the performance are those occurring within the performance, and these latter may well be more important and decisive in terms of the spectator's attention. By disruption within the performance, I mean that the ability of the performance to hold and direct the spectator's attention is also due to its ability to.continually create expectations on the most diverse levels, from the thematic to the expressive and stylistic, and then to continually frustrate and disrupt these expectations by sudden leaps, rapid changes of direction, tone, atmosphere, rhythm, etc. In this way, surprise is con- stantly renewed, and interest and attention remain lively and strong. And it is in primarily this direction that the work of the director, not to men- tion that of the dramaturg, is aimed.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I I

sions of experimental aesthetics. These conclusions argue that "some of the effects brought on by new stimuli [ .. . ] do not achieve maximum strength with a maximum of novelty," but rather with "an intermediate level of novelty" (Berlyne I960:64). In relation to the techniques of ac- robats and those sometimes used in Beijing opera, Barba has similarly observed that in such cases "it is no longer a matter of extra-ordinary techniques but simply one of 'other techniques.'" In these other tech- niques, "there is no longer the tension caused by a deviation from the norm, nor the sort of 'elastic energy' which characterizes extra-ordinary techniques in opposition to ordinary ones. In other words, it is no longer a matter of dialectical relationship but only of distance: the inaccessibility, in short, which the body of a 'virtuoso' performer represents" (I981:73). These observations are corroborated by the results of experiments on vi- sual perception which show, as I mentioned, that "clusters of stimuli are judged more favorably when they fall within an intermediate scale of novelty and complexity" (Berlyne I972:I48). These observations form an excellent starting point for more detailed analysis of the qualities particu- lar to theatrical attention and, I would add, to artistic attention in general. It is also the basis for analysis of those stimuli which are most capable of arousing attention in the theatre precisely by playing upon the dialectic of novel/known, strange/familiar, complex/simple, unexpected/predictable, odd/consistent.

DISRUPTIVE FEATURES "OF" THE PERFORMANCE/DISRUPTIVE

FEATURES "WITHIN" THE PERFORMANCE

In defining the actor's techniques as extra-ordinary, Barba insists on the way they "disrupt" the spectator by opposing-though it is a dialectical, "elastic" opposition-the techniques used in everyday life. However, it is clear that a performance can disrupt or frustrate expectations, producing effects of surprise and increased attention, in many other ways and on many different levels. The disruptive features of the performance also ap- pear on the level of general theatrical expectations. Here, the disruption no longer arises in the opposition of theatre to everyday life but rather in the opposition of the performance to theatre. One example of this would be a work breaking the conventions of dramatic fiction long since part of the average audience member's competence. On this level of specific the- atrical expectations, one might think of the opera buff who turns up at Peter Brook's Carmen expecting to see an authentic staging of the Bizet work.

This list of disruptive features could easily be extended, bearing in mind expectations having to do with the context of the performance, the precedents set by the various producers of the performance, etc. Howev- er, what I wish to make clear is that alongside these disruptive features of the performance are those occurring within the performance, and these latter may well be more important and decisive in terms of the spectator's attention. By disruption within the performance, I mean that the ability of the performance to hold and direct the spectator's attention is also due to its ability to.continually create expectations on the most diverse levels, from the thematic to the expressive and stylistic, and then to continually frustrate and disrupt these expectations by sudden leaps, rapid changes of direction, tone, atmosphere, rhythm, etc. In this way, surprise is con- stantly renewed, and interest and attention remain lively and strong. And it is in primarily this direction that the work of the director, not to men- tion that of the dramaturg, is aimed.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I I

sions of experimental aesthetics. These conclusions argue that "some of the effects brought on by new stimuli [ .. . ] do not achieve maximum strength with a maximum of novelty," but rather with "an intermediate level of novelty" (Berlyne I960:64). In relation to the techniques of ac- robats and those sometimes used in Beijing opera, Barba has similarly observed that in such cases "it is no longer a matter of extra-ordinary techniques but simply one of 'other techniques.'" In these other tech- niques, "there is no longer the tension caused by a deviation from the norm, nor the sort of 'elastic energy' which characterizes extra-ordinary techniques in opposition to ordinary ones. In other words, it is no longer a matter of dialectical relationship but only of distance: the inaccessibility, in short, which the body of a 'virtuoso' performer represents" (I981:73). These observations are corroborated by the results of experiments on vi- sual perception which show, as I mentioned, that "clusters of stimuli are judged more favorably when they fall within an intermediate scale of novelty and complexity" (Berlyne I972:I48). These observations form an excellent starting point for more detailed analysis of the qualities particu- lar to theatrical attention and, I would add, to artistic attention in general. It is also the basis for analysis of those stimuli which are most capable of arousing attention in the theatre precisely by playing upon the dialectic of novel/known, strange/familiar, complex/simple, unexpected/predictable, odd/consistent.

DISRUPTIVE FEATURES "OF" THE PERFORMANCE/DISRUPTIVE

FEATURES "WITHIN" THE PERFORMANCE

In defining the actor's techniques as extra-ordinary, Barba insists on the way they "disrupt" the spectator by opposing-though it is a dialectical, "elastic" opposition-the techniques used in everyday life. However, it is clear that a performance can disrupt or frustrate expectations, producing effects of surprise and increased attention, in many other ways and on many different levels. The disruptive features of the performance also ap- pear on the level of general theatrical expectations. Here, the disruption no longer arises in the opposition of theatre to everyday life but rather in the opposition of the performance to theatre. One example of this would be a work breaking the conventions of dramatic fiction long since part of the average audience member's competence. On this level of specific the- atrical expectations, one might think of the opera buff who turns up at Peter Brook's Carmen expecting to see an authentic staging of the Bizet work.

This list of disruptive features could easily be extended, bearing in mind expectations having to do with the context of the performance, the precedents set by the various producers of the performance, etc. Howev- er, what I wish to make clear is that alongside these disruptive features of the performance are those occurring within the performance, and these latter may well be more important and decisive in terms of the spectator's attention. By disruption within the performance, I mean that the ability of the performance to hold and direct the spectator's attention is also due to its ability to.continually create expectations on the most diverse levels, from the thematic to the expressive and stylistic, and then to continually frustrate and disrupt these expectations by sudden leaps, rapid changes of direction, tone, atmosphere, rhythm, etc. In this way, surprise is con- stantly renewed, and interest and attention remain lively and strong. And it is in primarily this direction that the work of the director, not to men- tion that of the dramaturg, is aimed.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I I

sions of experimental aesthetics. These conclusions argue that "some of the effects brought on by new stimuli [ .. . ] do not achieve maximum strength with a maximum of novelty," but rather with "an intermediate level of novelty" (Berlyne I960:64). In relation to the techniques of ac- robats and those sometimes used in Beijing opera, Barba has similarly observed that in such cases "it is no longer a matter of extra-ordinary techniques but simply one of 'other techniques.'" In these other tech- niques, "there is no longer the tension caused by a deviation from the norm, nor the sort of 'elastic energy' which characterizes extra-ordinary techniques in opposition to ordinary ones. In other words, it is no longer a matter of dialectical relationship but only of distance: the inaccessibility, in short, which the body of a 'virtuoso' performer represents" (I981:73). These observations are corroborated by the results of experiments on vi- sual perception which show, as I mentioned, that "clusters of stimuli are judged more favorably when they fall within an intermediate scale of novelty and complexity" (Berlyne I972:I48). These observations form an excellent starting point for more detailed analysis of the qualities particu- lar to theatrical attention and, I would add, to artistic attention in general. It is also the basis for analysis of those stimuli which are most capable of arousing attention in the theatre precisely by playing upon the dialectic of novel/known, strange/familiar, complex/simple, unexpected/predictable, odd/consistent.

DISRUPTIVE FEATURES "OF" THE PERFORMANCE/DISRUPTIVE

FEATURES "WITHIN" THE PERFORMANCE

In defining the actor's techniques as extra-ordinary, Barba insists on the way they "disrupt" the spectator by opposing-though it is a dialectical, "elastic" opposition-the techniques used in everyday life. However, it is clear that a performance can disrupt or frustrate expectations, producing effects of surprise and increased attention, in many other ways and on many different levels. The disruptive features of the performance also ap- pear on the level of general theatrical expectations. Here, the disruption no longer arises in the opposition of theatre to everyday life but rather in the opposition of the performance to theatre. One example of this would be a work breaking the conventions of dramatic fiction long since part of the average audience member's competence. On this level of specific the- atrical expectations, one might think of the opera buff who turns up at Peter Brook's Carmen expecting to see an authentic staging of the Bizet work.

This list of disruptive features could easily be extended, bearing in mind expectations having to do with the context of the performance, the precedents set by the various producers of the performance, etc. Howev- er, what I wish to make clear is that alongside these disruptive features of the performance are those occurring within the performance, and these latter may well be more important and decisive in terms of the spectator's attention. By disruption within the performance, I mean that the ability of the performance to hold and direct the spectator's attention is also due to its ability to.continually create expectations on the most diverse levels, from the thematic to the expressive and stylistic, and then to continually frustrate and disrupt these expectations by sudden leaps, rapid changes of direction, tone, atmosphere, rhythm, etc. In this way, surprise is con- stantly renewed, and interest and attention remain lively and strong. And it is in primarily this direction that the work of the director, not to men- tion that of the dramaturg, is aimed.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I I

sions of experimental aesthetics. These conclusions argue that "some of the effects brought on by new stimuli [ .. . ] do not achieve maximum strength with a maximum of novelty," but rather with "an intermediate level of novelty" (Berlyne I960:64). In relation to the techniques of ac- robats and those sometimes used in Beijing opera, Barba has similarly observed that in such cases "it is no longer a matter of extra-ordinary techniques but simply one of 'other techniques.'" In these other tech- niques, "there is no longer the tension caused by a deviation from the norm, nor the sort of 'elastic energy' which characterizes extra-ordinary techniques in opposition to ordinary ones. In other words, it is no longer a matter of dialectical relationship but only of distance: the inaccessibility, in short, which the body of a 'virtuoso' performer represents" (I981:73). These observations are corroborated by the results of experiments on vi- sual perception which show, as I mentioned, that "clusters of stimuli are judged more favorably when they fall within an intermediate scale of novelty and complexity" (Berlyne I972:I48). These observations form an excellent starting point for more detailed analysis of the qualities particu- lar to theatrical attention and, I would add, to artistic attention in general. It is also the basis for analysis of those stimuli which are most capable of arousing attention in the theatre precisely by playing upon the dialectic of novel/known, strange/familiar, complex/simple, unexpected/predictable, odd/consistent.

DISRUPTIVE FEATURES "OF" THE PERFORMANCE/DISRUPTIVE

FEATURES "WITHIN" THE PERFORMANCE

In defining the actor's techniques as extra-ordinary, Barba insists on the way they "disrupt" the spectator by opposing-though it is a dialectical, "elastic" opposition-the techniques used in everyday life. However, it is clear that a performance can disrupt or frustrate expectations, producing effects of surprise and increased attention, in many other ways and on many different levels. The disruptive features of the performance also ap- pear on the level of general theatrical expectations. Here, the disruption no longer arises in the opposition of theatre to everyday life but rather in the opposition of the performance to theatre. One example of this would be a work breaking the conventions of dramatic fiction long since part of the average audience member's competence. On this level of specific the- atrical expectations, one might think of the opera buff who turns up at Peter Brook's Carmen expecting to see an authentic staging of the Bizet work.

This list of disruptive features could easily be extended, bearing in mind expectations having to do with the context of the performance, the precedents set by the various producers of the performance, etc. Howev- er, what I wish to make clear is that alongside these disruptive features of the performance are those occurring within the performance, and these latter may well be more important and decisive in terms of the spectator's attention. By disruption within the performance, I mean that the ability of the performance to hold and direct the spectator's attention is also due to its ability to.continually create expectations on the most diverse levels, from the thematic to the expressive and stylistic, and then to continually frustrate and disrupt these expectations by sudden leaps, rapid changes of direction, tone, atmosphere, rhythm, etc. In this way, surprise is con- stantly renewed, and interest and attention remain lively and strong. And it is in primarily this direction that the work of the director, not to men- tion that of the dramaturg, is aimed.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I I

sions of experimental aesthetics. These conclusions argue that "some of the effects brought on by new stimuli [ .. . ] do not achieve maximum strength with a maximum of novelty," but rather with "an intermediate level of novelty" (Berlyne I960:64). In relation to the techniques of ac- robats and those sometimes used in Beijing opera, Barba has similarly observed that in such cases "it is no longer a matter of extra-ordinary techniques but simply one of 'other techniques.'" In these other tech- niques, "there is no longer the tension caused by a deviation from the norm, nor the sort of 'elastic energy' which characterizes extra-ordinary techniques in opposition to ordinary ones. In other words, it is no longer a matter of dialectical relationship but only of distance: the inaccessibility, in short, which the body of a 'virtuoso' performer represents" (I981:73). These observations are corroborated by the results of experiments on vi- sual perception which show, as I mentioned, that "clusters of stimuli are judged more favorably when they fall within an intermediate scale of novelty and complexity" (Berlyne I972:I48). These observations form an excellent starting point for more detailed analysis of the qualities particu- lar to theatrical attention and, I would add, to artistic attention in general. It is also the basis for analysis of those stimuli which are most capable of arousing attention in the theatre precisely by playing upon the dialectic of novel/known, strange/familiar, complex/simple, unexpected/predictable, odd/consistent.

DISRUPTIVE FEATURES "OF" THE PERFORMANCE/DISRUPTIVE

FEATURES "WITHIN" THE PERFORMANCE

In defining the actor's techniques as extra-ordinary, Barba insists on the way they "disrupt" the spectator by opposing-though it is a dialectical, "elastic" opposition-the techniques used in everyday life. However, it is clear that a performance can disrupt or frustrate expectations, producing effects of surprise and increased attention, in many other ways and on many different levels. The disruptive features of the performance also ap- pear on the level of general theatrical expectations. Here, the disruption no longer arises in the opposition of theatre to everyday life but rather in the opposition of the performance to theatre. One example of this would be a work breaking the conventions of dramatic fiction long since part of the average audience member's competence. On this level of specific the- atrical expectations, one might think of the opera buff who turns up at Peter Brook's Carmen expecting to see an authentic staging of the Bizet work.

This list of disruptive features could easily be extended, bearing in mind expectations having to do with the context of the performance, the precedents set by the various producers of the performance, etc. Howev- er, what I wish to make clear is that alongside these disruptive features of the performance are those occurring within the performance, and these latter may well be more important and decisive in terms of the spectator's attention. By disruption within the performance, I mean that the ability of the performance to hold and direct the spectator's attention is also due to its ability to.continually create expectations on the most diverse levels, from the thematic to the expressive and stylistic, and then to continually frustrate and disrupt these expectations by sudden leaps, rapid changes of direction, tone, atmosphere, rhythm, etc. In this way, surprise is con- stantly renewed, and interest and attention remain lively and strong. And it is in primarily this direction that the work of the director, not to men- tion that of the dramaturg, is aimed.

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I I

sions of experimental aesthetics. These conclusions argue that "some of the effects brought on by new stimuli [ .. . ] do not achieve maximum strength with a maximum of novelty," but rather with "an intermediate level of novelty" (Berlyne I960:64). In relation to the techniques of ac- robats and those sometimes used in Beijing opera, Barba has similarly observed that in such cases "it is no longer a matter of extra-ordinary techniques but simply one of 'other techniques.'" In these other tech- niques, "there is no longer the tension caused by a deviation from the norm, nor the sort of 'elastic energy' which characterizes extra-ordinary techniques in opposition to ordinary ones. In other words, it is no longer a matter of dialectical relationship but only of distance: the inaccessibility, in short, which the body of a 'virtuoso' performer represents" (I981:73). These observations are corroborated by the results of experiments on vi- sual perception which show, as I mentioned, that "clusters of stimuli are judged more favorably when they fall within an intermediate scale of novelty and complexity" (Berlyne I972:I48). These observations form an excellent starting point for more detailed analysis of the qualities particu- lar to theatrical attention and, I would add, to artistic attention in general. It is also the basis for analysis of those stimuli which are most capable of arousing attention in the theatre precisely by playing upon the dialectic of novel/known, strange/familiar, complex/simple, unexpected/predictable, odd/consistent.

DISRUPTIVE FEATURES "OF" THE PERFORMANCE/DISRUPTIVE

FEATURES "WITHIN" THE PERFORMANCE

In defining the actor's techniques as extra-ordinary, Barba insists on the way they "disrupt" the spectator by opposing-though it is a dialectical, "elastic" opposition-the techniques used in everyday life. However, it is clear that a performance can disrupt or frustrate expectations, producing effects of surprise and increased attention, in many other ways and on many different levels. The disruptive features of the performance also ap- pear on the level of general theatrical expectations. Here, the disruption no longer arises in the opposition of theatre to everyday life but rather in the opposition of the performance to theatre. One example of this would be a work breaking the conventions of dramatic fiction long since part of the average audience member's competence. On this level of specific the- atrical expectations, one might think of the opera buff who turns up at Peter Brook's Carmen expecting to see an authentic staging of the Bizet work.

This list of disruptive features could easily be extended, bearing in mind expectations having to do with the context of the performance, the precedents set by the various producers of the performance, etc. Howev- er, what I wish to make clear is that alongside these disruptive features of the performance are those occurring within the performance, and these latter may well be more important and decisive in terms of the spectator's attention. By disruption within the performance, I mean that the ability of the performance to hold and direct the spectator's attention is also due to its ability to.continually create expectations on the most diverse levels, from the thematic to the expressive and stylistic, and then to continually frustrate and disrupt these expectations by sudden leaps, rapid changes of direction, tone, atmosphere, rhythm, etc. In this way, surprise is con- stantly renewed, and interest and attention remain lively and strong. And it is in primarily this direction that the work of the director, not to men- tion that of the dramaturg, is aimed.

Page 14: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

II2 Marco De Marinis II2 Marco De Marinis II2 Marco De Marinis II2 Marco De Marinis II2 Marco De Marinis II2 Marco De Marinis II2 Marco De Marinis

FRUSTRATION/SATISFACTION OF EXPECTATIONS

"In my opinion, there are two aspects to the enjoyment which theatre can give: surprise and the joy of finding the same thing over again." This recent declaration by Italian director Luca Ronconi serves as a useful reminder of a risk which is undoubtedly present in a certain way of han-

dling the question of attention in the theatre. This is the risk of maintain- ing that the "proper" functioning of the performance, its success and pull on the audience, depend exclusively on the disruptive strategies it uses. In short, the risk is in seeing only the irregular and unexpected as being able to produce interest and entertainment in the theatre. Certainly, for exam- ple, Barba's theories regarding the extra-ordinary, despite their obvious importance, come at times dangerously close to just such a view and betray links with certain outdated avant-garde poetics.

More in keeping with the facts as they stand, and more important from a theoretical viewpoint, seems to be an acceptance that theatrical pleasure arises and is maintained in an unbroken dialectic between the frustration and satisfaction of expectations. The fragile balance is kept between the

pleasure of discovery, the unexpected, and the unusual, on one hand, and the pleasure of recognition, deja vu, and the anticipated on the other. To upset this balance in either direction means threatening the success of the

complex communicative interaction which constitutes the very life of the- atrical performance.

Translated by Paul Dwyer

Notes

i. For more detailed information regarding these principles, see Barba 1981, I983a, I983b, I985 and De Marinis 1986.

References

Barba, Eugenio 1981 La corsa dei contrari. Antropologia teatrale. Milan: Feltrinelli. Partial

English translation in The Drama Review 26, no. 2 (T93).

I983a "Drammaturgia." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 43- 46. Florence: La Casa Usher.

I983b "Montaggio." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 15- 222. Florence: La Casa Usher.

1985 "El cuerpo dilatado." Paper read at the international congress of the Instituto del Teatro, Barcelona, I9-25 March.

Barthes, Roland 1964 "Litterature et signification." In Essais Critiques. Paris: Seuil.

Berlyne, Daniel E. 1960 Conflict, Arousal and Curiosity. New York: McGraw-Hill.

1974 Studies in New Experimental Aesthetics. New York: Wiley & Sons.

1976 "L'estetica sperimentale." In Prospettive della psicologia, edited by P. C. Dodwell, I23-I49. Rutin: Boringhieri. Originally published in New Horizons in Psychology 2. New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

Berlyne, Daniel E., and Joyce Ditkofsky 1976 "Effects of Novelty and Oddity on Visual Selective Attention." Brit-

ish Journal of Psychology 67, no. 2:I75-I80.

FRUSTRATION/SATISFACTION OF EXPECTATIONS

"In my opinion, there are two aspects to the enjoyment which theatre can give: surprise and the joy of finding the same thing over again." This recent declaration by Italian director Luca Ronconi serves as a useful reminder of a risk which is undoubtedly present in a certain way of han-

dling the question of attention in the theatre. This is the risk of maintain- ing that the "proper" functioning of the performance, its success and pull on the audience, depend exclusively on the disruptive strategies it uses. In short, the risk is in seeing only the irregular and unexpected as being able to produce interest and entertainment in the theatre. Certainly, for exam- ple, Barba's theories regarding the extra-ordinary, despite their obvious importance, come at times dangerously close to just such a view and betray links with certain outdated avant-garde poetics.

More in keeping with the facts as they stand, and more important from a theoretical viewpoint, seems to be an acceptance that theatrical pleasure arises and is maintained in an unbroken dialectic between the frustration and satisfaction of expectations. The fragile balance is kept between the

pleasure of discovery, the unexpected, and the unusual, on one hand, and the pleasure of recognition, deja vu, and the anticipated on the other. To upset this balance in either direction means threatening the success of the

complex communicative interaction which constitutes the very life of the- atrical performance.

Translated by Paul Dwyer

Notes

i. For more detailed information regarding these principles, see Barba 1981, I983a, I983b, I985 and De Marinis 1986.

References

Barba, Eugenio 1981 La corsa dei contrari. Antropologia teatrale. Milan: Feltrinelli. Partial

English translation in The Drama Review 26, no. 2 (T93).

I983a "Drammaturgia." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 43- 46. Florence: La Casa Usher.

I983b "Montaggio." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 15- 222. Florence: La Casa Usher.

1985 "El cuerpo dilatado." Paper read at the international congress of the Instituto del Teatro, Barcelona, I9-25 March.

Barthes, Roland 1964 "Litterature et signification." In Essais Critiques. Paris: Seuil.

Berlyne, Daniel E. 1960 Conflict, Arousal and Curiosity. New York: McGraw-Hill.

1974 Studies in New Experimental Aesthetics. New York: Wiley & Sons.

1976 "L'estetica sperimentale." In Prospettive della psicologia, edited by P. C. Dodwell, I23-I49. Rutin: Boringhieri. Originally published in New Horizons in Psychology 2. New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

Berlyne, Daniel E., and Joyce Ditkofsky 1976 "Effects of Novelty and Oddity on Visual Selective Attention." Brit-

ish Journal of Psychology 67, no. 2:I75-I80.

FRUSTRATION/SATISFACTION OF EXPECTATIONS

"In my opinion, there are two aspects to the enjoyment which theatre can give: surprise and the joy of finding the same thing over again." This recent declaration by Italian director Luca Ronconi serves as a useful reminder of a risk which is undoubtedly present in a certain way of han-

dling the question of attention in the theatre. This is the risk of maintain- ing that the "proper" functioning of the performance, its success and pull on the audience, depend exclusively on the disruptive strategies it uses. In short, the risk is in seeing only the irregular and unexpected as being able to produce interest and entertainment in the theatre. Certainly, for exam- ple, Barba's theories regarding the extra-ordinary, despite their obvious importance, come at times dangerously close to just such a view and betray links with certain outdated avant-garde poetics.

More in keeping with the facts as they stand, and more important from a theoretical viewpoint, seems to be an acceptance that theatrical pleasure arises and is maintained in an unbroken dialectic between the frustration and satisfaction of expectations. The fragile balance is kept between the

pleasure of discovery, the unexpected, and the unusual, on one hand, and the pleasure of recognition, deja vu, and the anticipated on the other. To upset this balance in either direction means threatening the success of the

complex communicative interaction which constitutes the very life of the- atrical performance.

Translated by Paul Dwyer

Notes

i. For more detailed information regarding these principles, see Barba 1981, I983a, I983b, I985 and De Marinis 1986.

References

Barba, Eugenio 1981 La corsa dei contrari. Antropologia teatrale. Milan: Feltrinelli. Partial

English translation in The Drama Review 26, no. 2 (T93).

I983a "Drammaturgia." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 43- 46. Florence: La Casa Usher.

I983b "Montaggio." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 15- 222. Florence: La Casa Usher.

1985 "El cuerpo dilatado." Paper read at the international congress of the Instituto del Teatro, Barcelona, I9-25 March.

Barthes, Roland 1964 "Litterature et signification." In Essais Critiques. Paris: Seuil.

Berlyne, Daniel E. 1960 Conflict, Arousal and Curiosity. New York: McGraw-Hill.

1974 Studies in New Experimental Aesthetics. New York: Wiley & Sons.

1976 "L'estetica sperimentale." In Prospettive della psicologia, edited by P. C. Dodwell, I23-I49. Rutin: Boringhieri. Originally published in New Horizons in Psychology 2. New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

Berlyne, Daniel E., and Joyce Ditkofsky 1976 "Effects of Novelty and Oddity on Visual Selective Attention." Brit-

ish Journal of Psychology 67, no. 2:I75-I80.

FRUSTRATION/SATISFACTION OF EXPECTATIONS

"In my opinion, there are two aspects to the enjoyment which theatre can give: surprise and the joy of finding the same thing over again." This recent declaration by Italian director Luca Ronconi serves as a useful reminder of a risk which is undoubtedly present in a certain way of han-

dling the question of attention in the theatre. This is the risk of maintain- ing that the "proper" functioning of the performance, its success and pull on the audience, depend exclusively on the disruptive strategies it uses. In short, the risk is in seeing only the irregular and unexpected as being able to produce interest and entertainment in the theatre. Certainly, for exam- ple, Barba's theories regarding the extra-ordinary, despite their obvious importance, come at times dangerously close to just such a view and betray links with certain outdated avant-garde poetics.

More in keeping with the facts as they stand, and more important from a theoretical viewpoint, seems to be an acceptance that theatrical pleasure arises and is maintained in an unbroken dialectic between the frustration and satisfaction of expectations. The fragile balance is kept between the

pleasure of discovery, the unexpected, and the unusual, on one hand, and the pleasure of recognition, deja vu, and the anticipated on the other. To upset this balance in either direction means threatening the success of the

complex communicative interaction which constitutes the very life of the- atrical performance.

Translated by Paul Dwyer

Notes

i. For more detailed information regarding these principles, see Barba 1981, I983a, I983b, I985 and De Marinis 1986.

References

Barba, Eugenio 1981 La corsa dei contrari. Antropologia teatrale. Milan: Feltrinelli. Partial

English translation in The Drama Review 26, no. 2 (T93).

I983a "Drammaturgia." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 43- 46. Florence: La Casa Usher.

I983b "Montaggio." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 15- 222. Florence: La Casa Usher.

1985 "El cuerpo dilatado." Paper read at the international congress of the Instituto del Teatro, Barcelona, I9-25 March.

Barthes, Roland 1964 "Litterature et signification." In Essais Critiques. Paris: Seuil.

Berlyne, Daniel E. 1960 Conflict, Arousal and Curiosity. New York: McGraw-Hill.

1974 Studies in New Experimental Aesthetics. New York: Wiley & Sons.

1976 "L'estetica sperimentale." In Prospettive della psicologia, edited by P. C. Dodwell, I23-I49. Rutin: Boringhieri. Originally published in New Horizons in Psychology 2. New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

Berlyne, Daniel E., and Joyce Ditkofsky 1976 "Effects of Novelty and Oddity on Visual Selective Attention." Brit-

ish Journal of Psychology 67, no. 2:I75-I80.

FRUSTRATION/SATISFACTION OF EXPECTATIONS

"In my opinion, there are two aspects to the enjoyment which theatre can give: surprise and the joy of finding the same thing over again." This recent declaration by Italian director Luca Ronconi serves as a useful reminder of a risk which is undoubtedly present in a certain way of han-

dling the question of attention in the theatre. This is the risk of maintain- ing that the "proper" functioning of the performance, its success and pull on the audience, depend exclusively on the disruptive strategies it uses. In short, the risk is in seeing only the irregular and unexpected as being able to produce interest and entertainment in the theatre. Certainly, for exam- ple, Barba's theories regarding the extra-ordinary, despite their obvious importance, come at times dangerously close to just such a view and betray links with certain outdated avant-garde poetics.

More in keeping with the facts as they stand, and more important from a theoretical viewpoint, seems to be an acceptance that theatrical pleasure arises and is maintained in an unbroken dialectic between the frustration and satisfaction of expectations. The fragile balance is kept between the

pleasure of discovery, the unexpected, and the unusual, on one hand, and the pleasure of recognition, deja vu, and the anticipated on the other. To upset this balance in either direction means threatening the success of the

complex communicative interaction which constitutes the very life of the- atrical performance.

Translated by Paul Dwyer

Notes

i. For more detailed information regarding these principles, see Barba 1981, I983a, I983b, I985 and De Marinis 1986.

References

Barba, Eugenio 1981 La corsa dei contrari. Antropologia teatrale. Milan: Feltrinelli. Partial

English translation in The Drama Review 26, no. 2 (T93).

I983a "Drammaturgia." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 43- 46. Florence: La Casa Usher.

I983b "Montaggio." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 15- 222. Florence: La Casa Usher.

1985 "El cuerpo dilatado." Paper read at the international congress of the Instituto del Teatro, Barcelona, I9-25 March.

Barthes, Roland 1964 "Litterature et signification." In Essais Critiques. Paris: Seuil.

Berlyne, Daniel E. 1960 Conflict, Arousal and Curiosity. New York: McGraw-Hill.

1974 Studies in New Experimental Aesthetics. New York: Wiley & Sons.

1976 "L'estetica sperimentale." In Prospettive della psicologia, edited by P. C. Dodwell, I23-I49. Rutin: Boringhieri. Originally published in New Horizons in Psychology 2. New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

Berlyne, Daniel E., and Joyce Ditkofsky 1976 "Effects of Novelty and Oddity on Visual Selective Attention." Brit-

ish Journal of Psychology 67, no. 2:I75-I80.

FRUSTRATION/SATISFACTION OF EXPECTATIONS

"In my opinion, there are two aspects to the enjoyment which theatre can give: surprise and the joy of finding the same thing over again." This recent declaration by Italian director Luca Ronconi serves as a useful reminder of a risk which is undoubtedly present in a certain way of han-

dling the question of attention in the theatre. This is the risk of maintain- ing that the "proper" functioning of the performance, its success and pull on the audience, depend exclusively on the disruptive strategies it uses. In short, the risk is in seeing only the irregular and unexpected as being able to produce interest and entertainment in the theatre. Certainly, for exam- ple, Barba's theories regarding the extra-ordinary, despite their obvious importance, come at times dangerously close to just such a view and betray links with certain outdated avant-garde poetics.

More in keeping with the facts as they stand, and more important from a theoretical viewpoint, seems to be an acceptance that theatrical pleasure arises and is maintained in an unbroken dialectic between the frustration and satisfaction of expectations. The fragile balance is kept between the

pleasure of discovery, the unexpected, and the unusual, on one hand, and the pleasure of recognition, deja vu, and the anticipated on the other. To upset this balance in either direction means threatening the success of the

complex communicative interaction which constitutes the very life of the- atrical performance.

Translated by Paul Dwyer

Notes

i. For more detailed information regarding these principles, see Barba 1981, I983a, I983b, I985 and De Marinis 1986.

References

Barba, Eugenio 1981 La corsa dei contrari. Antropologia teatrale. Milan: Feltrinelli. Partial

English translation in The Drama Review 26, no. 2 (T93).

I983a "Drammaturgia." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 43- 46. Florence: La Casa Usher.

I983b "Montaggio." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 15- 222. Florence: La Casa Usher.

1985 "El cuerpo dilatado." Paper read at the international congress of the Instituto del Teatro, Barcelona, I9-25 March.

Barthes, Roland 1964 "Litterature et signification." In Essais Critiques. Paris: Seuil.

Berlyne, Daniel E. 1960 Conflict, Arousal and Curiosity. New York: McGraw-Hill.

1974 Studies in New Experimental Aesthetics. New York: Wiley & Sons.

1976 "L'estetica sperimentale." In Prospettive della psicologia, edited by P. C. Dodwell, I23-I49. Rutin: Boringhieri. Originally published in New Horizons in Psychology 2. New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

Berlyne, Daniel E., and Joyce Ditkofsky 1976 "Effects of Novelty and Oddity on Visual Selective Attention." Brit-

ish Journal of Psychology 67, no. 2:I75-I80.

FRUSTRATION/SATISFACTION OF EXPECTATIONS

"In my opinion, there are two aspects to the enjoyment which theatre can give: surprise and the joy of finding the same thing over again." This recent declaration by Italian director Luca Ronconi serves as a useful reminder of a risk which is undoubtedly present in a certain way of han-

dling the question of attention in the theatre. This is the risk of maintain- ing that the "proper" functioning of the performance, its success and pull on the audience, depend exclusively on the disruptive strategies it uses. In short, the risk is in seeing only the irregular and unexpected as being able to produce interest and entertainment in the theatre. Certainly, for exam- ple, Barba's theories regarding the extra-ordinary, despite their obvious importance, come at times dangerously close to just such a view and betray links with certain outdated avant-garde poetics.

More in keeping with the facts as they stand, and more important from a theoretical viewpoint, seems to be an acceptance that theatrical pleasure arises and is maintained in an unbroken dialectic between the frustration and satisfaction of expectations. The fragile balance is kept between the

pleasure of discovery, the unexpected, and the unusual, on one hand, and the pleasure of recognition, deja vu, and the anticipated on the other. To upset this balance in either direction means threatening the success of the

complex communicative interaction which constitutes the very life of the- atrical performance.

Translated by Paul Dwyer

Notes

i. For more detailed information regarding these principles, see Barba 1981, I983a, I983b, I985 and De Marinis 1986.

References

Barba, Eugenio 1981 La corsa dei contrari. Antropologia teatrale. Milan: Feltrinelli. Partial

English translation in The Drama Review 26, no. 2 (T93).

I983a "Drammaturgia." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 43- 46. Florence: La Casa Usher.

I983b "Montaggio." In Anatomia del Teatro, edited by N. Savarese, 15- 222. Florence: La Casa Usher.

1985 "El cuerpo dilatado." Paper read at the international congress of the Instituto del Teatro, Barcelona, I9-25 March.

Barthes, Roland 1964 "Litterature et signification." In Essais Critiques. Paris: Seuil.

Berlyne, Daniel E. 1960 Conflict, Arousal and Curiosity. New York: McGraw-Hill.

1974 Studies in New Experimental Aesthetics. New York: Wiley & Sons.

1976 "L'estetica sperimentale." In Prospettive della psicologia, edited by P. C. Dodwell, I23-I49. Rutin: Boringhieri. Originally published in New Horizons in Psychology 2. New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

Berlyne, Daniel E., and Joyce Ditkofsky 1976 "Effects of Novelty and Oddity on Visual Selective Attention." Brit-

ish Journal of Psychology 67, no. 2:I75-I80.

Page 15: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

Dramaturgy of the Spectator I13 Dramaturgy of the Spectator I13 Dramaturgy of the Spectator I13 Dramaturgy of the Spectator I13 Dramaturgy of the Spectator I13 Dramaturgy of the Spectator I13 Dramaturgy of the Spectator I13

De Marinis, Marco I98I "Vers une pragmatique de la communication teatrale." Versus 30:71-

86.

1982 Semiotica del teatro. Milan: Bompiani.

1983 "Theatrical Comprehension: A Socio-semiotic Approach." Theater I5, no. I (Winter):8-I5.

1984 "L'esperienza dello spettatore: fondamenti per una semiotica della ri- cezione teatrale." In Documenti di lavoro, I38-I39. Centro di Semio- tica e Linguistica di Urbino.

1985 "Toward a Cognitive Semiotic of Theatrical Emotions." Versus 4I:5- 20.

1986 "I1 corpo artificiale: biologia e cultura nell'arte dell'atore." Prometeo 4, no. 14:48-55.

1987 II Nuovo Teatro (1947-1970). Milan: Bompiani.

Eco, Umberto 1979 Lector in fabula. Milan: Bompiani. English edition, The Role of the

Reader. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979.

Ghosh, Manomohan, ed. and trans. 1967 The Natyasastra. Calcutta: Manisha Granthalaya.

Greimas, Algirdas J., and J. H. Courtes 1979 Semiotique: Dictionnaire raisonne de la theorie du langage. Paris:

Hachette.

Grotowski, Jerzy I986 "I1 regista come spettatore di professione."* Teatro Festival 3:28-36.

Moles, Abraham 1958 Theorie de l'information et perception esthetique. Paris: Flammarion.

Poppe, Emile 1979 "Analyse semiotique de l'espace spetaculaire." Unpublished manu-

script.

Ruffini, Franco 1985 "Testo/scena: drammaturgia dello spettacolo e dello spettatore." Ver-

sus 41:2I-40.

Schechner, Richard 1973 Environmental Theatre. New York: Hawthorn Books.

1984 La teorias della performance, 1970-1983. Rome: Bulzoni.

1986 Personal communication, 21-26 August.

Schoenmakers, Henry 1982 "The Tacit Majority in the Theatre." In Multimedial Communication.

Vol. II, Theatre Semiotics, edited by E.W.H. Hess-Luttich, Io8-I55.

Tubingen: Gunter Narr Verlag.

Schoenmakers, Henry, and Ed Tan 1984 "'Good Guy Bad Guy' Effects in Political Theatre." In Semiotics of

Drama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 462- 508. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Tan, Ed 1982 "Cognitive Processes in Reception." In Semiotics of Drama and The-

atre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 156-203. Amster- dam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

De Marinis, Marco I98I "Vers une pragmatique de la communication teatrale." Versus 30:71-

86.

1982 Semiotica del teatro. Milan: Bompiani.

1983 "Theatrical Comprehension: A Socio-semiotic Approach." Theater I5, no. I (Winter):8-I5.

1984 "L'esperienza dello spettatore: fondamenti per una semiotica della ri- cezione teatrale." In Documenti di lavoro, I38-I39. Centro di Semio- tica e Linguistica di Urbino.

1985 "Toward a Cognitive Semiotic of Theatrical Emotions." Versus 4I:5- 20.

1986 "I1 corpo artificiale: biologia e cultura nell'arte dell'atore." Prometeo 4, no. 14:48-55.

1987 II Nuovo Teatro (1947-1970). Milan: Bompiani.

Eco, Umberto 1979 Lector in fabula. Milan: Bompiani. English edition, The Role of the

Reader. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979.

Ghosh, Manomohan, ed. and trans. 1967 The Natyasastra. Calcutta: Manisha Granthalaya.

Greimas, Algirdas J., and J. H. Courtes 1979 Semiotique: Dictionnaire raisonne de la theorie du langage. Paris:

Hachette.

Grotowski, Jerzy I986 "I1 regista come spettatore di professione."* Teatro Festival 3:28-36.

Moles, Abraham 1958 Theorie de l'information et perception esthetique. Paris: Flammarion.

Poppe, Emile 1979 "Analyse semiotique de l'espace spetaculaire." Unpublished manu-

script.

Ruffini, Franco 1985 "Testo/scena: drammaturgia dello spettacolo e dello spettatore." Ver-

sus 41:2I-40.

Schechner, Richard 1973 Environmental Theatre. New York: Hawthorn Books.

1984 La teorias della performance, 1970-1983. Rome: Bulzoni.

1986 Personal communication, 21-26 August.

Schoenmakers, Henry 1982 "The Tacit Majority in the Theatre." In Multimedial Communication.

Vol. II, Theatre Semiotics, edited by E.W.H. Hess-Luttich, Io8-I55.

Tubingen: Gunter Narr Verlag.

Schoenmakers, Henry, and Ed Tan 1984 "'Good Guy Bad Guy' Effects in Political Theatre." In Semiotics of

Drama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 462- 508. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Tan, Ed 1982 "Cognitive Processes in Reception." In Semiotics of Drama and The-

atre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 156-203. Amster- dam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

De Marinis, Marco I98I "Vers une pragmatique de la communication teatrale." Versus 30:71-

86.

1982 Semiotica del teatro. Milan: Bompiani.

1983 "Theatrical Comprehension: A Socio-semiotic Approach." Theater I5, no. I (Winter):8-I5.

1984 "L'esperienza dello spettatore: fondamenti per una semiotica della ri- cezione teatrale." In Documenti di lavoro, I38-I39. Centro di Semio- tica e Linguistica di Urbino.

1985 "Toward a Cognitive Semiotic of Theatrical Emotions." Versus 4I:5- 20.

1986 "I1 corpo artificiale: biologia e cultura nell'arte dell'atore." Prometeo 4, no. 14:48-55.

1987 II Nuovo Teatro (1947-1970). Milan: Bompiani.

Eco, Umberto 1979 Lector in fabula. Milan: Bompiani. English edition, The Role of the

Reader. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979.

Ghosh, Manomohan, ed. and trans. 1967 The Natyasastra. Calcutta: Manisha Granthalaya.

Greimas, Algirdas J., and J. H. Courtes 1979 Semiotique: Dictionnaire raisonne de la theorie du langage. Paris:

Hachette.

Grotowski, Jerzy I986 "I1 regista come spettatore di professione."* Teatro Festival 3:28-36.

Moles, Abraham 1958 Theorie de l'information et perception esthetique. Paris: Flammarion.

Poppe, Emile 1979 "Analyse semiotique de l'espace spetaculaire." Unpublished manu-

script.

Ruffini, Franco 1985 "Testo/scena: drammaturgia dello spettacolo e dello spettatore." Ver-

sus 41:2I-40.

Schechner, Richard 1973 Environmental Theatre. New York: Hawthorn Books.

1984 La teorias della performance, 1970-1983. Rome: Bulzoni.

1986 Personal communication, 21-26 August.

Schoenmakers, Henry 1982 "The Tacit Majority in the Theatre." In Multimedial Communication.

Vol. II, Theatre Semiotics, edited by E.W.H. Hess-Luttich, Io8-I55.

Tubingen: Gunter Narr Verlag.

Schoenmakers, Henry, and Ed Tan 1984 "'Good Guy Bad Guy' Effects in Political Theatre." In Semiotics of

Drama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 462- 508. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Tan, Ed 1982 "Cognitive Processes in Reception." In Semiotics of Drama and The-

atre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 156-203. Amster- dam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

De Marinis, Marco I98I "Vers une pragmatique de la communication teatrale." Versus 30:71-

86.

1982 Semiotica del teatro. Milan: Bompiani.

1983 "Theatrical Comprehension: A Socio-semiotic Approach." Theater I5, no. I (Winter):8-I5.

1984 "L'esperienza dello spettatore: fondamenti per una semiotica della ri- cezione teatrale." In Documenti di lavoro, I38-I39. Centro di Semio- tica e Linguistica di Urbino.

1985 "Toward a Cognitive Semiotic of Theatrical Emotions." Versus 4I:5- 20.

1986 "I1 corpo artificiale: biologia e cultura nell'arte dell'atore." Prometeo 4, no. 14:48-55.

1987 II Nuovo Teatro (1947-1970). Milan: Bompiani.

Eco, Umberto 1979 Lector in fabula. Milan: Bompiani. English edition, The Role of the

Reader. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979.

Ghosh, Manomohan, ed. and trans. 1967 The Natyasastra. Calcutta: Manisha Granthalaya.

Greimas, Algirdas J., and J. H. Courtes 1979 Semiotique: Dictionnaire raisonne de la theorie du langage. Paris:

Hachette.

Grotowski, Jerzy I986 "I1 regista come spettatore di professione."* Teatro Festival 3:28-36.

Moles, Abraham 1958 Theorie de l'information et perception esthetique. Paris: Flammarion.

Poppe, Emile 1979 "Analyse semiotique de l'espace spetaculaire." Unpublished manu-

script.

Ruffini, Franco 1985 "Testo/scena: drammaturgia dello spettacolo e dello spettatore." Ver-

sus 41:2I-40.

Schechner, Richard 1973 Environmental Theatre. New York: Hawthorn Books.

1984 La teorias della performance, 1970-1983. Rome: Bulzoni.

1986 Personal communication, 21-26 August.

Schoenmakers, Henry 1982 "The Tacit Majority in the Theatre." In Multimedial Communication.

Vol. II, Theatre Semiotics, edited by E.W.H. Hess-Luttich, Io8-I55.

Tubingen: Gunter Narr Verlag.

Schoenmakers, Henry, and Ed Tan 1984 "'Good Guy Bad Guy' Effects in Political Theatre." In Semiotics of

Drama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 462- 508. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Tan, Ed 1982 "Cognitive Processes in Reception." In Semiotics of Drama and The-

atre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 156-203. Amster- dam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

De Marinis, Marco I98I "Vers une pragmatique de la communication teatrale." Versus 30:71-

86.

1982 Semiotica del teatro. Milan: Bompiani.

1983 "Theatrical Comprehension: A Socio-semiotic Approach." Theater I5, no. I (Winter):8-I5.

1984 "L'esperienza dello spettatore: fondamenti per una semiotica della ri- cezione teatrale." In Documenti di lavoro, I38-I39. Centro di Semio- tica e Linguistica di Urbino.

1985 "Toward a Cognitive Semiotic of Theatrical Emotions." Versus 4I:5- 20.

1986 "I1 corpo artificiale: biologia e cultura nell'arte dell'atore." Prometeo 4, no. 14:48-55.

1987 II Nuovo Teatro (1947-1970). Milan: Bompiani.

Eco, Umberto 1979 Lector in fabula. Milan: Bompiani. English edition, The Role of the

Reader. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979.

Ghosh, Manomohan, ed. and trans. 1967 The Natyasastra. Calcutta: Manisha Granthalaya.

Greimas, Algirdas J., and J. H. Courtes 1979 Semiotique: Dictionnaire raisonne de la theorie du langage. Paris:

Hachette.

Grotowski, Jerzy I986 "I1 regista come spettatore di professione."* Teatro Festival 3:28-36.

Moles, Abraham 1958 Theorie de l'information et perception esthetique. Paris: Flammarion.

Poppe, Emile 1979 "Analyse semiotique de l'espace spetaculaire." Unpublished manu-

script.

Ruffini, Franco 1985 "Testo/scena: drammaturgia dello spettacolo e dello spettatore." Ver-

sus 41:2I-40.

Schechner, Richard 1973 Environmental Theatre. New York: Hawthorn Books.

1984 La teorias della performance, 1970-1983. Rome: Bulzoni.

1986 Personal communication, 21-26 August.

Schoenmakers, Henry 1982 "The Tacit Majority in the Theatre." In Multimedial Communication.

Vol. II, Theatre Semiotics, edited by E.W.H. Hess-Luttich, Io8-I55.

Tubingen: Gunter Narr Verlag.

Schoenmakers, Henry, and Ed Tan 1984 "'Good Guy Bad Guy' Effects in Political Theatre." In Semiotics of

Drama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 462- 508. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Tan, Ed 1982 "Cognitive Processes in Reception." In Semiotics of Drama and The-

atre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 156-203. Amster- dam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

De Marinis, Marco I98I "Vers une pragmatique de la communication teatrale." Versus 30:71-

86.

1982 Semiotica del teatro. Milan: Bompiani.

1983 "Theatrical Comprehension: A Socio-semiotic Approach." Theater I5, no. I (Winter):8-I5.

1984 "L'esperienza dello spettatore: fondamenti per una semiotica della ri- cezione teatrale." In Documenti di lavoro, I38-I39. Centro di Semio- tica e Linguistica di Urbino.

1985 "Toward a Cognitive Semiotic of Theatrical Emotions." Versus 4I:5- 20.

1986 "I1 corpo artificiale: biologia e cultura nell'arte dell'atore." Prometeo 4, no. 14:48-55.

1987 II Nuovo Teatro (1947-1970). Milan: Bompiani.

Eco, Umberto 1979 Lector in fabula. Milan: Bompiani. English edition, The Role of the

Reader. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979.

Ghosh, Manomohan, ed. and trans. 1967 The Natyasastra. Calcutta: Manisha Granthalaya.

Greimas, Algirdas J., and J. H. Courtes 1979 Semiotique: Dictionnaire raisonne de la theorie du langage. Paris:

Hachette.

Grotowski, Jerzy I986 "I1 regista come spettatore di professione."* Teatro Festival 3:28-36.

Moles, Abraham 1958 Theorie de l'information et perception esthetique. Paris: Flammarion.

Poppe, Emile 1979 "Analyse semiotique de l'espace spetaculaire." Unpublished manu-

script.

Ruffini, Franco 1985 "Testo/scena: drammaturgia dello spettacolo e dello spettatore." Ver-

sus 41:2I-40.

Schechner, Richard 1973 Environmental Theatre. New York: Hawthorn Books.

1984 La teorias della performance, 1970-1983. Rome: Bulzoni.

1986 Personal communication, 21-26 August.

Schoenmakers, Henry 1982 "The Tacit Majority in the Theatre." In Multimedial Communication.

Vol. II, Theatre Semiotics, edited by E.W.H. Hess-Luttich, Io8-I55.

Tubingen: Gunter Narr Verlag.

Schoenmakers, Henry, and Ed Tan 1984 "'Good Guy Bad Guy' Effects in Political Theatre." In Semiotics of

Drama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 462- 508. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Tan, Ed 1982 "Cognitive Processes in Reception." In Semiotics of Drama and The-

atre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 156-203. Amster- dam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

De Marinis, Marco I98I "Vers une pragmatique de la communication teatrale." Versus 30:71-

86.

1982 Semiotica del teatro. Milan: Bompiani.

1983 "Theatrical Comprehension: A Socio-semiotic Approach." Theater I5, no. I (Winter):8-I5.

1984 "L'esperienza dello spettatore: fondamenti per una semiotica della ri- cezione teatrale." In Documenti di lavoro, I38-I39. Centro di Semio- tica e Linguistica di Urbino.

1985 "Toward a Cognitive Semiotic of Theatrical Emotions." Versus 4I:5- 20.

1986 "I1 corpo artificiale: biologia e cultura nell'arte dell'atore." Prometeo 4, no. 14:48-55.

1987 II Nuovo Teatro (1947-1970). Milan: Bompiani.

Eco, Umberto 1979 Lector in fabula. Milan: Bompiani. English edition, The Role of the

Reader. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979.

Ghosh, Manomohan, ed. and trans. 1967 The Natyasastra. Calcutta: Manisha Granthalaya.

Greimas, Algirdas J., and J. H. Courtes 1979 Semiotique: Dictionnaire raisonne de la theorie du langage. Paris:

Hachette.

Grotowski, Jerzy I986 "I1 regista come spettatore di professione."* Teatro Festival 3:28-36.

Moles, Abraham 1958 Theorie de l'information et perception esthetique. Paris: Flammarion.

Poppe, Emile 1979 "Analyse semiotique de l'espace spetaculaire." Unpublished manu-

script.

Ruffini, Franco 1985 "Testo/scena: drammaturgia dello spettacolo e dello spettatore." Ver-

sus 41:2I-40.

Schechner, Richard 1973 Environmental Theatre. New York: Hawthorn Books.

1984 La teorias della performance, 1970-1983. Rome: Bulzoni.

1986 Personal communication, 21-26 August.

Schoenmakers, Henry 1982 "The Tacit Majority in the Theatre." In Multimedial Communication.

Vol. II, Theatre Semiotics, edited by E.W.H. Hess-Luttich, Io8-I55.

Tubingen: Gunter Narr Verlag.

Schoenmakers, Henry, and Ed Tan 1984 "'Good Guy Bad Guy' Effects in Political Theatre." In Semiotics of

Drama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 462- 508. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Tan, Ed 1982 "Cognitive Processes in Reception." In Semiotics of Drama and The-

atre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 156-203. Amster- dam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

Page 16: Dramaturgy of the Spectator

I 4 Marco De Marinis

Tindemans, Carlos 1984 "Coherence and Focability: A Contribution to the Analysability of

Theatre Discourse." In Semiotics ofprama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 127-I33. Amsterdam and Philadel- phia: John Benjamins.

Marco De Marinis teaches at the Istituto di Discipline della Comunicazione at the University of Bologna. His main fields of interest are semiotics and theatre

history. His publications include: Teatro e comunicazione (Theatre and

Communication), Mimo e mimi (Mime and Mimes), Semiotica del teatro (Semiotics of the Theatre), Al limite del teatro (At the Edge of the The- atre), and II Nuovo Teatro (I947-I970) (The New Theatre [I947-I970]). He is a regular contributor to Le Bulletin, Carte Semiotiche, Gestos, Euto-

pias, New Theatre Quarterly, Prometeo, and Theater. He is also editor of the journal Versus-Quaderni di Studi Semiotici.

I 4 Marco De Marinis

Tindemans, Carlos 1984 "Coherence and Focability: A Contribution to the Analysability of

Theatre Discourse." In Semiotics ofprama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 127-I33. Amsterdam and Philadel- phia: John Benjamins.

Marco De Marinis teaches at the Istituto di Discipline della Comunicazione at the University of Bologna. His main fields of interest are semiotics and theatre

history. His publications include: Teatro e comunicazione (Theatre and

Communication), Mimo e mimi (Mime and Mimes), Semiotica del teatro (Semiotics of the Theatre), Al limite del teatro (At the Edge of the The- atre), and II Nuovo Teatro (I947-I970) (The New Theatre [I947-I970]). He is a regular contributor to Le Bulletin, Carte Semiotiche, Gestos, Euto-

pias, New Theatre Quarterly, Prometeo, and Theater. He is also editor of the journal Versus-Quaderni di Studi Semiotici.

I 4 Marco De Marinis

Tindemans, Carlos 1984 "Coherence and Focability: A Contribution to the Analysability of

Theatre Discourse." In Semiotics ofprama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 127-I33. Amsterdam and Philadel- phia: John Benjamins.

Marco De Marinis teaches at the Istituto di Discipline della Comunicazione at the University of Bologna. His main fields of interest are semiotics and theatre

history. His publications include: Teatro e comunicazione (Theatre and

Communication), Mimo e mimi (Mime and Mimes), Semiotica del teatro (Semiotics of the Theatre), Al limite del teatro (At the Edge of the The- atre), and II Nuovo Teatro (I947-I970) (The New Theatre [I947-I970]). He is a regular contributor to Le Bulletin, Carte Semiotiche, Gestos, Euto-

pias, New Theatre Quarterly, Prometeo, and Theater. He is also editor of the journal Versus-Quaderni di Studi Semiotici.

I 4 Marco De Marinis

Tindemans, Carlos 1984 "Coherence and Focability: A Contribution to the Analysability of

Theatre Discourse." In Semiotics ofprama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 127-I33. Amsterdam and Philadel- phia: John Benjamins.

Marco De Marinis teaches at the Istituto di Discipline della Comunicazione at the University of Bologna. His main fields of interest are semiotics and theatre

history. His publications include: Teatro e comunicazione (Theatre and

Communication), Mimo e mimi (Mime and Mimes), Semiotica del teatro (Semiotics of the Theatre), Al limite del teatro (At the Edge of the The- atre), and II Nuovo Teatro (I947-I970) (The New Theatre [I947-I970]). He is a regular contributor to Le Bulletin, Carte Semiotiche, Gestos, Euto-

pias, New Theatre Quarterly, Prometeo, and Theater. He is also editor of the journal Versus-Quaderni di Studi Semiotici.

I 4 Marco De Marinis

Tindemans, Carlos 1984 "Coherence and Focability: A Contribution to the Analysability of

Theatre Discourse." In Semiotics ofprama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 127-I33. Amsterdam and Philadel- phia: John Benjamins.

Marco De Marinis teaches at the Istituto di Discipline della Comunicazione at the University of Bologna. His main fields of interest are semiotics and theatre

history. His publications include: Teatro e comunicazione (Theatre and

Communication), Mimo e mimi (Mime and Mimes), Semiotica del teatro (Semiotics of the Theatre), Al limite del teatro (At the Edge of the The- atre), and II Nuovo Teatro (I947-I970) (The New Theatre [I947-I970]). He is a regular contributor to Le Bulletin, Carte Semiotiche, Gestos, Euto-

pias, New Theatre Quarterly, Prometeo, and Theater. He is also editor of the journal Versus-Quaderni di Studi Semiotici.

I 4 Marco De Marinis

Tindemans, Carlos 1984 "Coherence and Focability: A Contribution to the Analysability of

Theatre Discourse." In Semiotics ofprama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 127-I33. Amsterdam and Philadel- phia: John Benjamins.

Marco De Marinis teaches at the Istituto di Discipline della Comunicazione at the University of Bologna. His main fields of interest are semiotics and theatre

history. His publications include: Teatro e comunicazione (Theatre and

Communication), Mimo e mimi (Mime and Mimes), Semiotica del teatro (Semiotics of the Theatre), Al limite del teatro (At the Edge of the The- atre), and II Nuovo Teatro (I947-I970) (The New Theatre [I947-I970]). He is a regular contributor to Le Bulletin, Carte Semiotiche, Gestos, Euto-

pias, New Theatre Quarterly, Prometeo, and Theater. He is also editor of the journal Versus-Quaderni di Studi Semiotici.

I 4 Marco De Marinis

Tindemans, Carlos 1984 "Coherence and Focability: A Contribution to the Analysability of

Theatre Discourse." In Semiotics ofprama and Theatre, edited by H. Schmid and A. Van Kesteren, 127-I33. Amsterdam and Philadel- phia: John Benjamins.

Marco De Marinis teaches at the Istituto di Discipline della Comunicazione at the University of Bologna. His main fields of interest are semiotics and theatre

history. His publications include: Teatro e comunicazione (Theatre and

Communication), Mimo e mimi (Mime and Mimes), Semiotica del teatro (Semiotics of the Theatre), Al limite del teatro (At the Edge of the The- atre), and II Nuovo Teatro (I947-I970) (The New Theatre [I947-I970]). He is a regular contributor to Le Bulletin, Carte Semiotiche, Gestos, Euto-

pias, New Theatre Quarterly, Prometeo, and Theater. He is also editor of the journal Versus-Quaderni di Studi Semiotici.