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Spring 2008 103 How Do You Read a Sign that No One Has Ever Seen Before? A Post-Semiotic Analysis of Chance-Driven Events Dean Wilcox We are used to, in the past, this idea that artists make defined finished things which the public then looks at. This is slightly different. This is like creating a seed and planting it . and it grows into whatever it grows into. —Brian Eno, 77 Million Paintings I was first introduced to semiotics while working toward an MFA in lighting design. My initial reaction was to dismiss it as needlessly complicated. I thought, “Yeah, I got it. Things mean things. Why do I need to learn a new language to talk about that?” But slowly the ideas, vocabulary, and insights afforded by semiotics began to unlock previously unseen ways of analyzing and discussing performances. Dissecting how a production signified, or at the very least, was put together, allowed me to understand better how I might approach the design process myself. Things still meant things, but now manipulating those elements and the context within which they were viewed became a much more complex and fertile procedure. As designer gave way to critic and scholar, I was drawn to performances that acknowledged the complexity of the semiotic process by toying with signification. The rich and varied work of people like Robert Wilson, Meredith Monk, and Richard Foreman simply dripped with signs begging to be explored. Semiotics was a good first step in discussing this material but never quite seemed to capture everything that transpired in performance. The convergence of performance elements seemed to exceed the language of semiotics, indicating a need to move beyond semiotics for a more comprehensive method of analysis. I began to investigate other methodologies—deconstruction, phenomenology, chaos theory—which in one way or another draw on semiotics, but also offer specialized languages and ideas that aid in exploring elements surpassing the semiotic frame. My journey, as it turns out, is not all that unique. In the “post”-script to the Dean Wilcox is Assistant Dean for the Undergraduate Academic Program at the North Carolina School of the Arts where he teaches The Aesthetics of Dissonance, Chaos Theory and the Arts, Postmodern Drama, and Performance Art. In addition to working periodically as a lighting designer, he has published articles and book reviews in Theatre Journal, Theatre Survey, the Journal of Dramatic Theory and Criticism, Theatre Research International, and Modern Drama on topics such as the intersection of semiotics and phenomenology, Josef Svoboda’s multimedia design for Intolleranza, the convergence of chaos theory and performance, Karen Finley’s deconstructive technique, and ambient space in twentieth-century theatre. 104 Journal of Dramatic Theory and Criticism second edition of his influential Semiotics of Theatre and Drama, Keir Elam discusses the pragmatic and methodologically conservative approach of British and American theatre: Semiotic performance analysis, being itself an ‘avant-garde’ and methodologically anti-traditionalist endeavor, tended to look for its objects and for its ideal models of theatricality precisely in the avant-garde, anti-traditionalist forms of theatre, in the hope of bringing about a “natural” alliance or symbiosis between theory and practice.1 What is it about the avant-garde that is both attractive to critics using semiotics and brings about the development of postsemiotics? While the entirety of this question is beyond the scope of this paper, I propose to focus on a few key avant-garde elements—chance and indeterminacy. The term “post” is a very popular modifier when added to structuralism, modernism, semiotics, and “dramatic,” suggesting something beyond, an evolutionary trope that indicates time and movement, but also incorporates the very idea it exceeds. As Hans-Thies Lehmann articulates in Postdramatic Theatre, a genre that develops in conjunction with the postsemiotic, “the prefix ‘post’ indicates that a culture or artistic practice has stepped out of the previously unquestioned horizon of modernity but still exists with some kind of reference to it.”2 The concept of “post” indicates a palimpsest in which past and present co-exist. As long as someone somewhere is performing an un-ironic version of The Crucible, the postdramatic will share the stage with the dramatic. As long as critics are willing to analyze performances using “signifier” and “signified” without complicating this method, postsemiotics will reside alongside semiotics. One thing I admire about Roland Barthes’s writing is his acknowledgement of the limitations of his analysis. Clear in articulating his project, he was also clear when he had reached an impasse. In “The Third Meaning” he states, “The obtuse meaning is a signifier without a signified, hence the difficulty in naming it. My reading remains suspended between the image and its description, between definition and approximation.” A few lines later he is even more specific: “how do you describe something that does not represent anything?”3 Or, as he asks in “The Rhetoric of the Image,” “How does meaning get into an image? Where does it end? And if it ends, what is there beyond?”4 Barthes took his rigorous semiotic analysis as far as it would go and then pointed to something that eluded his grasp. He could sense it, discuss it, and even narrate the process by which he could access it, but ultimately, by using semiotics, Barthes reached an analytical impasse. This idea of the limitations of analysis is something that Michael Kirby takes up in a formalist theater when he builds on Umberto Eco’s idea of semiotic acts Spring 2008 105 in relation to interpretation within a specific cultural or systematic code. For Kirby, “semiotics, then, is not the exegesis of meaning but the demonstration of how meaning derives from a particular code; unless the code itself is clear, we have only interpretation.”5 Semiotics, in this case, can never bring the critic to an understanding of the meaning of a work, only a meaning, suggesting that there are alternative methods to employ. Kirby also raises the spatial, temporal, and ideological question of where signs and sign systems end in relation to performance.6 When and where do we begin our analysis? This is a seemingly simple question when dealing with traditional performances that offer a defined starting point by darkening the auditorium and raising the curtain, but much more complicated when dealing with the avant-garde. Are we limited to analyzing elements that support the narrative, or can we discuss things that are external to this, such as the program, the lobby experience, or repeated viewings? Do we draw a line at the edge of the stage and ignore physical elements outside this space, or do we follow Marvin Carlson’s lead in Places of Performance and explore architecture, neighborhood, and city? What do we concentrate on if no narrative is employed, or if the performance works to disrupt the text? If spectators are expected to contemplate the performance and put it together for themselves, when do we consider this process complete? As Elam suggests, the lines are drawn much clearer in traditional performances, but these questions are crucial when dealing with avant-garde forms that deliberately disrupt signification. In retrospect, the use of semiotics as a way of bolstering performance analysis was fated to give rise to contention. Even early semiotic analysis acknowledged the complexity of the theatre as a composite art made up of many sign systems and codes. It was obvious that one single methodology, no matter how powerful, would never be able to capture the whole. Commenting on this limitation in Great Reckonings in Little Rooms, Bert States suggests that “any critical perspective is doomed to be narrow. It must be itself with a vengeance if it is to realize its potential for illumination.” States continues, discussing this narrowness with regards to semiotics. “What is disturbing, if anything, about semiotics is not its narrowness but its almost imperialistic confidence in its product; that is, its implicit belief that you have exhausted a thing’s interest when you have explained how it works as a sign.”7 States ultimately argues against reading performances as an accumulation of signs in favor of phenomenological analysis.8 Unlike semiotics, which posits the signifying and therefore referential aspect of stage elements, phenomenology works to capture the immediate essence of performance.9 By setting judgments aside, including the process of reading and categorizing signs and sign systems, the spectator is able to focus on the present experience. Like most analytical methods, semiotics is always mediated, that is, always removed from the ebb and flow of the event, reflecting back on how signs and sign systems operated. Phenomenology, on the other hand, concentrates on 106 Journal of Dramatic Theory and Criticism the “first four seconds” of awareness, the moment “in which an object or an image establishes itself in our perception as something.”10 For States, “semiotics and phenomenology are best seen as complementary perspectives on the world and on art.”11 One method is concerned with mimetic and reproduced elements, while the other concentrates on elements perceived in the present moment. Semiotics suggests that pure presence on stage is impossible since meaning is always deferred, always dispersed, never of the moment, never purely present, always a reflection of something that is past or absent. While this may be the case theoretically, it appears differently in performance. The process of taking the stage, no matter how rehearsed, re-produced, re-presented, or indicative of past or absent actions, is a moment filled with doubt. While a performance may rest on the convergence of signs and sign systems, to read it simply as a conglomeration of signifying pieces is to miss the point and the power of the “present” moment.

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