Theatre of Quarantine: Social Distance Performance
QUEERANTINE
Theatre of Quarantine: Social Distance Performance
“The word theatre has many sloppy meanings. In most of the world, the theatre has no exact place in society, no clear purpose, it only exists in fragments: one theatre chases money, another chases glory, another chases emotion, another chases politics, another chases fun. The actor is bundled from pillar to post—confused and consumed by conditions outside his control.”
Peter Brook’s definition of Theatre taken from his book The Empty Space unknowingly defines a theatre that exists today as much as it ever did. And yet, The Empty Space now has become our streets, our local businesses, our theatres, our bars, and our stage. The fragmented nature of theatre as the creature that evolves to meet the criteria laid down by the relationship between audience and artist, has never been more confused and overly consumed. The world is experiencing a great hardship that has people fearing for their lives and livelihoods behind closed doors, or at least, with a 6ft gap between neighbours and friends. Theatre responds to these crises as it always has, however our digital age now supplies a sufficiently malleable vehicle with which to transcend the structure of proximity in theatre.
“The decision to embrace the virtuosity of the virtual, leaves a bitter taste in one’s mouth when the decision is made forcibly, potentially de-naturing their practice, for the sake of survival”
The virtuosity of the virtual
Several days, weeks, maybe even months ago, the world entered into quarantine. We were shown the true nature of what is “essential” and what is “luxury”. We were called to question the strength of our friendships, relationships, financial affairs, strength under solitude, & peace of mind. Many rushed to the shops to stockpile pasta & toilet roll, others volunteered their services to help those less fortunate, businesses began to demonstrate their moral rectitude (Wetherspoon’s was once again found lacking), and an age of the trooping of our true colours began.
That moment feels like several months ago now. The world is now online. We have never been so strongly at the mercy of machinery as we are right now. And now finally, we realise it. The virtual world is expansive and removes proximity as an issue, even the concept of a virus spreading is somewhat subverted in the online realm. We live vicariously through our avatars and media presence while the world stands still. The virtual playground has given strength to many theatres and performers alike, and yet has been the downfall of many others. The virtual world is saturated.
Performers the world over have taken to streaming platforms, social media & many other online outlets to continue their livelihood, at the mercy of an assumed audience of fans & followers who can spare money for “tips” to allow their choice to pursue a career in the arts pre-quarantine to survive, through and beyond. Obviously, the nature of self-employment & what is considered “essential” business is going to cause anyone in the arts a substantial issue when searching for a paycheck. It was initially understood that self-employed or seemingly unemployed people in the UK would receive very little in the way of compensatory benefit which might see them through this time of financial difficulty and scarcity. Now, there seems to have been a call to action to support those in “less structured” or consistent financial situations. Though it would seem particularly in the arts sector there is still unrest.
While many artists may have built up a substantial social media following, and curated their art to take the form of an online presence in performance bits, live Q&A, live streams of performance material or simply a frank & down to earth sharing of their personality on screen/stage; can this strength in numbers be relied upon to support us through a darker period?
Well, it seems that for many, it can. The trouble facing many performers is translation. The decision to embrace the virtuosity of the virtual, leaves a bitter taste in one’s mouth when the decision is made forcibly, potentially de-naturing their practice, for the sake of survival. But as the old saying goes, “desperate times call for desperate measures”.