AUDIENCE FOR DANCE

". . . the creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualifications and thus adds

his contribution to the creative act." MARCEL DUCHAMP

Annual of Contemporary Dance 2.00 Inde x zs£

Carroll Russell THE EVOLUTION OF THE AUDIENCE 3

Arthur Todd THE CRITIC IN THE AUDIENCE 6

Conversation with Carroll Russell JOHN MARTIN ON AUDIENCES 8

Welland Lathrop THE DANCER AS AUDIENCE 10

Mary-Averett Seelye SHARPENING YOUR SENSIBILITY AS AUDIENCE 12

Carol Scothorn THREE CHOREOGRAPHERS TALK ABOUT THE AUDIENCE 16

AUDIENCES AROUND THE WORLD 20

A Photographic Essay

Susan Keene Stitt CRITICISM The Period of the 30's 27

William I. Oliver A NON-DANCER'S VIEW OF DANCE ON TV 30

Nik Krevitsky THE DEGAS VIEW IS NOT ENOUGH 31

James Moffett THE SECOND PERSON 32

Discussion: Lawrence Halprin THE FIVE-LEGGED STOOL 37 Reviews by: Robert Krauskopf Alfred Frankenstein Sidney Peterson Kenneth Rexroth Jack Loughner Stanley Eichelbaum Comments on THE GIFT 40 Lilly Jaffe Rhoda Kellogg Murray Gitlin Helen Burke Sidney Peterson

Peter Batchelor A CREATIVE DANCE CENTRE FOR VANCOUVER 44

Barrie Greenbie A THEATER FOR DANCE 47

Elizabeth Harris

Molly Lynn DANCE FOR THE DUTCH 49

Kapila Vatsyayan THE SAHRDAYA — The Initiated Spectator 51

Copyright 1962 by Impulse Publications, Inc. fff°'L its'

This issue of IMPULSE is dedicated to JOHN MARTIN

John Martin, dance critic of THE NEW YORK TIMES for thirty-five years, retired this week. Mr. Martin came to THE TIMES in 1927 from a career as an actor and theatrical director. His original plan was to work part time for perhaps six months until further work in the theatre could be found. The modern dance movement, how­ ever, was just beginning and Mr. Martin found the spectacle too fascinating to leave. In October, 1928, he joined the staff, becoming the first full-time dance critic on a daily newspaper.

Mr. Martin witnessed and evaluated the rise of the important American movement in modern dance, centering on such per­ sonalities as Doris Humphrey, Charles Weidman and Martha Graham, as well as the transplantation of the European tra­ dition in such American companies as the Ballet Theatre and the New York City Ballet.

Of equal importance during this time was the integration of serious dance techniques into the American musical theatre, and this, too, engaged Mr. Martin's attention. from THE NEW YORK TIMES July 4, 1962

630505 Pref­ace

For the first time in the history of IMPULSE it is possible to write a preface without apology for the fact that we are using words. We can reiterate that talking about dance is not dance, but words about dance are the accepted medium of communication of reaction, criticism and evaluation. When we planned this issue our "working title" was "the audience from the tired business man to the critic." As it turned out we devoted our efforts to gathering historical, critical and theoretical essays, and, in addition, the viewpoints of choreographers, dancers, educators, communication theo­ rists and artists in other media. A portion of the book is directed toward a consideration of what is going on in dance theater on the West Coast in the Acknowledgments: area of "happenings," a new and perhaps significant trend with its emphasis on improvisation, feed back and audience participation in the "event." Cover: Quote from MARCEL DUCHAMP When we began to look for illustrative material the consistent response was by Robert Lebel, Translation by George Heard Hamilton, Published that "nobody takes pictures of audiences," but, fortunately, by further in­ by Grove Press, Inc., New York. quiry we found that in the ANTA program of international artistic exchange there was a great deal of interest in the audiences in other countries who Cover Design by Lilly Weil Jaffe were looking at dancers sent from America and thus we obtained a re­ presentative group of photographs from scattered parts of the world in Photographs by courtesy of: addition to some pictures of audiences in this country. Carolyn Mason Jones 11 San Francisco Ballet 20, 21, 22 Opinions of critics, as the most informed and verbally facile members of United States Information Service, the audience for dance, are presented as a considerable part of thisyear's Karachi, Pakistan 21 issue of IMPULSE. We realize that without the official title or status of Straits Times, Kuala Lampur, critic each member "of the audience is in a sense a critic, especially in dance Malaya 22 which has as its instrument the human body creating a deceptive bond of V.M. Hanks, Jr., San Francisco 23 familiarity and potential of "judgment." For student groups and individuals Merry-Go-Rounders 24 desirous of increasing their sensitivity to what is going on in the theater Louis Melancon 24 Information Office of the Republic we have reprinted material from a handbook on how to look at acting. of Indonesia 25 Dance Magazine 26 On the basis that the larger part of any theater is devoted to the spectator Impact Photos, Inc., New York 26 and that theater architecture in the traditional sense has many drawbacks Ken McLaughlin 40 for seeing dance we have thought it appropriate to include two imaginative Rushant Cameras Ltd., Vancouver, and contrasting plans for dance theaters. British Columbia 44, 45 The American Federation of Arts 46, 47 We present essays on dance in Holland and India as in Notes From Abroad Molly Lynn 49 of previous issues. Alan Meisel 53 The problem of communication between dancer and audience in this era of Printed by Chapman Press, San stereotypes in the mass media contrasted with preciosity in individual Francisco. The text of this publi­ expression involves responsibilities for both dancer and spectator. cation has been set on an IBM Ex­ ecutive Typewriter on "Bold Face IMPULSE 1962 offers diverse reactions to this problem. MVT Number Two" type face.

Published annually by Impulse Publications, Inc., 160 Palo Alto Avenue, San Francisco 14, California. $2.00 per copy (mailorders, add 20£ postage and handling; California orders also add 8£ state tax per copy), checks payable to Impulse Publications, Inc. No part of the material herein maybe reproduced without con­ sent of Impulse Publications, Inc., with the exception of short quotations used for reviews.

Editor: Marian Van Tuyl

Editorial Board: Doris Dennison, Rebecca Fuller, JoannaGewertz, Eleanor Lauer, Dorothy Twombly, David Lauer, RobertGraham, Dorrill Shadwell, AdeleWenig, Ann Halprin, NikKrevitsky, Bernice Peterson, Rhoda Kellogg

Production Supervision: Lilly Weil Jaffe Evolution of the Audience CARROLL RUSSELL

The audience is an invention of "civilized" man. In primitive societies and at the beginning of history, drama, dance and music were practiced to influence the gods who controlled nature and fate. The audience, if there was any other than these gods, was the inner personal satisfaction of the performer in his muscu­ lar discipline, the rhythms he marked out, the emo­ tional release he experienced. As we have become more civilized, the performer and the spectator have become more separated. "t~ n WO"1 In primitive society dance, drama (there is still only one Sanskrit word to express dance and drama) and music were almost entirely functional. They were used to propitiate the gods and to educate the young in tribal customs and secrets and legends. Those The rites and rituals of pagan Greece added the genius members of the group who did not dance or act out a of those people for aesthetics, form and logical clarity. character, marked the rhythm with clapping or stamp­ The place of action, theatre, was born. Our words ing, sang, orplayedan instrument. All were involved "orchestra," "scene," "proscenium," came into the in the actual performance. language. Now great numbers of people sat formally in an amphitheatre where sight lines and acoustics were at a new excellence. But they still were personally involved in an essential way because there remained an aura of worship and reverence to the gods who con­ trolled the outcome of the story. One can hardly im­ agine any of them uttering that modern question, "What n mo did it mean? " The Greek populace was agog for days before the amphitheatre performance. There were processions and the excitement of the competitive prizes for the playwrights. Claques espoused one playwright over another, booed, whistled, cheered at the tragedies, threw figs, olives, and even stones at the comedians.

v&$r%&£

Gradually as civilization advanced, the involuntary motor discharge of the primitive (which we see re­ peated today in every child) became formed and planned, and thus intended for observation. The more clever impersonators or the most agile dancers were accepted as specialists and were designated to perform for the benefit of all. But the others, forming a first audience, were still essentially involved because action represented the voice of the whole tribe.

Carroll Russell is co-author of MODERN DANCE FORMS in Relation to the Other Modern Arts, Published by Impulse Publications, Inc., 1961. Line drawings by David Lauer. The pragmatic energetic Roman Culture took this Greek theatre, which was an art, and transformed it into spectacle and circus where all re­ ligious connection was lost. The people only participated in a physical excitement, without emotional or intellectual identification in the action, much like the attitude toward our modern circus or bull fight.

Several hundred years later another kind of audience grew out of the religious plays of the "universal church" of the Middle Ages. The old classic pagan devices were forgotten, and drama was born again in Christian ritual and biblical story-telling. It developed as the Greek form had, out of religious processions, and singing and chanting before the altar. At first the little plays were unwritten and with­ out dramatic form, and were acted by priests inthe chancel of the church. By the thirteenth century certain laymen took the parts, and the plays moved to a platform before the church door, where they served as amusement and edification for the common people. The Mys­ teries, the Miracle Plays, the Morality Plays were steps toward the development again of professionals, distinct from the non-profes­ sionals who were the onlookers. Mimes, jugglers, acrobats, minstrels, magicians, and the Commedia dell'Arte players, all possessed a skill and discipline that the ordi­ nary man could not command, and so put him again into the position of audience.

Elizabethan audiences did not behave well. The witnesses to our present day theatre politely applaud through habit, or sit docile and silent through the feeble, the dull or the inconsistent. The Elizabethan were noisy — responding with cries of approval with hearty laughter or with unabashed tears. A description (1635) of a country performance reads: "The people were exceeding Joviall, and merry before the play began. Young men and Maids dancing together, and so merry and frolick were many of the Spectators, thatthe Players could hardly get Liberty that they themselves might Act." They lustily sucked oranges, cracked nuts on the benches, and smoked tobacco at the public theatres. Elizabethan and Greek audiences were alike in their inclusion of all classes of the people and in their hearty re­ sponse to the action. These were the great days of dramatic writing. How much did the more intimate relationship between audience and on-stage action contribute toward the vitality and richness of the theatre arts in those times? avant-garde dramatists, makes a conspicuous effort to compel his audience to associate itself with the players. Not only does he have the actors appear in character on a curtainless stage while the audience takes its place, but he has them remain there during the intermission.

The fashion of extreme realism in our modern play- writing is sure death to a very deep audience partici­ pation in the dramatic situation. Poetic treatment of any human experience, by its lack of specificity, forces the onlooker to fill in for himself through his personal storehouse of experience. That is why a Graham performance, aside from its rich gift of beautiful movement, far outweighs in dramatic impact most of our stage plays. Howard Taubman comments on Thornton Wilder's new plays: "Taking advantage The evolution of balletic forms in France which began of the simplicity of approach of arena theatre, Mr. with "Ballet Comique de la Reine" in 1581 resulted in Wilder's PLAYS FOR BLEEKER STREET needs only the emergence of professional performers under royal a few chairs and benches to evoke worlds of deep patronage. The courtier, formerly the performer, reality and dewy imagination." became the observer. The ensuing adoption of Italian stage techniques including the proscenium arch and In spite of the insurmountable separation in our modern raised stage served to divide audience from performer theatres between audience seats and the window stage, — a separation which influenced the nature of theatre the people watching occasionally do become so emo­ art for centuries. tionally involved in concert or play that they sit in a state of paralysis after the curtain has dropped, or Today this question bothers many creative writers, chatter in higher octave than usual as they leave the choreographers, and especially, theatre architects. theatre. Carved in large letters over the handsome How can the onlookers be brought more physically walnut proscenium arch of the Goodman Theatre in within the field of action, and how can they be helped to Chicago are the words, "You yourselves must set flame identify themselves with what is happening on-stage? to the fagots which you have brought." Moholy-Nagy proposed, in 1924at the Bauhaus, a new auditorium architecture. He dreamed of a solution to the difficulties of fusing the spectators with the action by constructing suspended bridges and draw­ bridges, running horizontally, diagonally and verti­ cally within the space of the auditorium. There would be platform stages built out into the audience, runways joined onto the stage, variations of levels and movable planes. Arch Lauterer (see IMPULSE 1959) was unique in this country in his creative schemes to bring the stage action, drama or dance, into personal range of the members of the audience. He used light to create mood and to accentuate relationships on the stage, and he so matched the stage spaces with the action that the latter looked inevitable and was be­ lieved.

Moholy's revolutionary construction has not been realized but we are all familiar with an approach to itintheatre-in-the-roundorthehalfarena stage. And we have seen the devices of an audience being called upon to determine the outcome of a plot (act as a jury at a trial) or being drawn in by the asides of a narrator who provides a bridge between the two worlds of stage and pit. Jack Gelber, one of our young American The Critic in the Audience ARTHUR TODD

One important member in the audience for dance is a book. Therefore, it does not necessarily follow that the critic. He is important for only one reason: to re­ a dance critic be able to choreograph or dance. Paren­ port to the public on what he saw. If, in his writing, thetically speaking, however, I personally believe that he's able to win a wider audience and a greater un­ my ten years of intensive study in the field as an active derstanding and appreciation of dance, so much the participant in classes have provided me with an under­ better for the art in general. standing of the medium that is continually invaluable. However, my critical assessments are made entirely The critic generally has aisle seats, and in a preferred from my background of attendance at the appearances location, that are given to him gratis by the manage­ of every major company and dance artist, in every ment. Although he is in the audience, he takes a some­ fieldandform, seen in New York City since 1936. This what detached view and is not swayed in either direction continual coverage is the only factor that can provide by its behaviour although he may or may not choose to a sense of perspective as well as a set of standards comment upon its acceptance or rejection of a work as and values for comparison. A dance critic, however, a sidelight to his own opinion. The critic observes must also be aware of major trends in the fields of what is performed upon the stage yet he never becomes music, painting, design, sculpture, theatre and lit­ personally involved with it. In a sense, a critic is a erature. All of these sister arts play an integral part sort of a thermometer that provides a fever chart of in dance. a performance. He sits in judgment, as it were, as a kind of artistic conscience who observes, assim­ There are certain obvious guides and sign posts, as it ilates, edits and reports what he sees. His sole re­ were, that a critic employs in setting up his own stand­ sponsibility is to the public and not to the dance. ards as to what he looks for in a dance and in a per­ formance. Quite certainly, these differ with each As John Martin, dean of American dance critics points individual. In my case, I can only add that a consid­ out, "The critic's function is a consumer service. He erable amount of exposure to music and to painting is writing for the public, not the dance. He is report­ and photography has led me to seek in dance many of ing tothe public and no one else. Dancers should not the same qualities that I expect in these fields. These read criticisms of any kind. It's not directed at them. are, in order of their importance to me: communica­ The dancers get their criticisms from their teachers tive value, composition, rhythm, line and form. and choreographers. The critic's duty is to state that such a performance is or is not worth your attention Viewing a dance from a musical point of view, the critic for the following reasons, whatever they may be." must decide whether or not the music requires move­ ment to make its meaning complete. Likewise, he Often, a critic must tread a tight-rope, in a sense, if must ascertain whether or not the choreographer was he is to be true to his function and himself. Quite cer­ successful in what he set out to do insofar as musicality tainly, then, he has no right to assume in print that he and phrasing are concerned. Also, he has to take into is a dictator. Neither should he act as though he is an consideration the relationships between the music, artistic director, a choreographer, a composer, a set choreography, costumes, settings and lighting. (In­ or costume designer or a dancer, as some mistakenly terestingly enough, I find that British, European and do. If he does, he obviously is in the wrong field. Russian critics and, I presume, audiences as well, However, the more knowledge and background a critic pay far more attention, to scores, decor, etc., than brings to a performance, just that much more is re­ we do in America.) All of these factors, however, flected in his own craft. are of vital import because a dance work, if it's truly great, fuses all of these elements into a theatrical It is possible to name a dramatic critic that cannot entity. write a play, a music critic that cannot compose, con­ duct or perform and a literary critic that cannot write Many of the same qualities that are present in a good

Arthur Todd has been Associate Editor of DANCE OBSERVER since 1948 and American Correspondent for DANCE AND DANCERS since 1952. His own dance study under leading American modern dancers and his extensive viewing of dance concerts in New York and other major cities of America and Europe have pro­ vided a rich background for the numerous articles and reviews of dance books he has contributed to newspapers and magazines in this country and in England. painting or in a fine photograph may also be found in choreography, particularly in the field of our so-called dance. Here one looks for such things as: construc­ contemporary or modern dance. Itis therefore as ne­ tion, craftsmanship, balance, rhythm, movement or cessary to explain the medium as it is to describe and action, boldness, sensitivity, originality, emotional report on the works. It also follows that overseas value, spiritual value, psychological value, the proper readers are extremely curious to get the American expression of the theme or idea, the interpretation of viewpoint on foreign companies visiting us. Often the idea, the penetration of the subject, and again, and there is a vast chasm of difference in appreciation and most important from my point of view, communicative understanding from country to country. Dame Ninette value. de Valois once told me that The Royal Ballet dances far better in America than it does in London. (After As we all know, John Martin's opinion notwithstanding, seeing these dancers on their home ground, I must dancers and choreographers sometimes do read crit­ say that I agree with her.) However, British critics, icism. Dancer-choreographer Martha Graham has who are considerably more caustic, waspish and witty very definite feelings on the subject. She states: "I than their American colleagues, seem to be continually have usually come to see one of two things in criticism. surprised by The Royal Ballet's triumphs in America. Either the performer could not face what the critic saw —the image of himself as projected on the screen Another factor that a critic needs to keep in mind is the of the world — or else the critic could not face himself point that dance speaks a world language that tran­ and desired to project another image of himself. It is scends race, creed and color. In the past decade, the critic who is complex. In most instances, he's a Americans have had the opportunity to view every great frustrated performer. Forme, he'sthe most complex dance company of the world. At the same time, some of the complex." of our great companies such as Martha Graham's, The New York City Ballet, Jose Limon's, American Ballet 1 "The critic," continues Martha Graham, "should have Theatre, Jerome Robbins "Ballets: U.S.A." and a sensitivity for the relativity of the arts and be able Alvin Ailey's Dance Theatre have visited many coun­ to write well. What I look for in one kind of criticism tries abroad. And in most instances it appears that is a mirror in which I see myself either good or bad. these companies find some in their audiences that are Another kind of a critic opens a window or a door and already aware of their contributions to the field. No is a creative person who guides the world." small part of this is due to criticisms in our press and magazines that are now read around the world. Ad­ One thing a critic has to keep in mind is the level of ditionally, a great part of interest in these companies the audience that he is addressing. For instance, in abroad is fanned by foreign publications that devote a a publication such as IMPULSE, or in any of our other far greater amount of space to dance in the United domestic dance publications, one is reaching a spe­ States than we do here to dance from abroad. An ex­ cialist audience that is almost entirely professional. cellent example of this is DANCE AND DANCERS, in If most of these readers are not practicing dancers, England, which devoted nine pages of space in two con­ choreographers or teachers, one presumes that at secutive issues to Martha Graham's Spring 1962 sea­ least they are so knowledgeable that one writes in a son in New York. The same magazine gave over its sort of shorthand language of the field, as it were, lead five pages in another issue to George Balanchine's often including technical classroom or performing "A Midsummer Night's Dream" for The New York City terms. Quite the opposite, however, is a national Ballet. Dance, obviously, is enjoying the greatest newspaper. Here, one is told, 99 percent of the read­ two-way passage (I much prefer the word passage to ers know nothing about dance technically or esthet- exchange. The latter is an unfortunate word that has ically. One must capture their interest with a headline marked connotations of trade and barter.) in history and a lead. What's more, the critic's function here is and this, in turn, calls for markedly perceptive criti­ based almost more on why a dance is newsworthy than cism and appraisal if it is to have its greatest potential. why it's worth-while. However, it's still his duty to illumine and set up an awareness, understanding and Aside from international differences, tastes and expectancy whenever and wherever possible. To a styles, the critic is also confronted with assessing slightly lesser degree, the same writing standards dance companies and works in their proper perspec­ apply to a critical feature article on dance for a monthly tive. For instance, there is a considerable difference theatre or music magazine. between the artistic standards of the great national and international companies and those of a smaller com­ A somewhat different set of rules applies to writing pany — "junior" might be the operative term. In other dance criticism for a foreign publication. In the first categories, too, are the so-called regional or civic place, readers in England, Europe and Russia are companies, which are generally semi-professional, intensely interested in major trends in American as compared tothe small professional companies that usually mount one recital a season and are not known anything but their own schools of dance. The average beyond the fringe of New York recital circles. How­ audience that is middle-aged or more appears to be ever, each must be judged fairly and objectively. aware of nothing aside from technical facility and vir­ There's no telling which will produce our next great tuosity — this is important but it is by no means all. young dancer and choreographer. It is up to the critic This mass audience, and it is now reaching those pro­ to discover. This is his challenge and his most pleas­ portions , is lacking in discernment despite the fact that ant duty and it's what makes sitting through everything excellent guide posts are provided in the critical press, worth-while. magazines and books.

As a general rule, it is preferable if a critic is not Wherever possible, a critic should be positive and not personally friendly with the dancers and choreo­ negative. It is the easiest thing in the world to com­ graphers he reviews. Friendship can dull the edge of plain in print about routine performances and produc­ objectivity. It may make a critic suspect of favoritism tions, particularly if one is exposed to a running series and this, in the long run, hinders, rather than helps, of concerts that rarely reach beyond the level of medi­ the dance artist. In the case of a new, young choreo­ ocrity. At times like this itis tempting to be wickedly grapher of great promise, it is the duty of the critic scurrilous. It appears, however, that the critic that to champion him in every way possible though never descends to the level of wit that reads smartly and for personal reasons. (Once this happens, the bloom amusingly is generally writing for a limited personal is off the peach, as it were, and, henceforth, neither audience that quotes such sarcastic morsels with can be taken too seriously by the rest of the profes­ relish and glee. A responsible critic, on the other sional field.) On the contrary, it seems fair and hand, searches for what's worth-while, digging and justifiable for a critic to talk to a dancer or choreo­ blasting if necessary. When the curtain goes up, I hope grapher about his concepts of a work or a role. This tobe moved. I mayalso expect to be touched, amused, can often be most revealing and also may aid materially angered, assaulted, horrified, perplexed, exalted, in explaining an artist's true intent to the public. In infuriated, mystified or struck. However, I want such an instance, the critic serves as a sort of entre­ something to happen that comes across even if it's preneur between the dancer and the reader. something I do not like.

Although the audience for dance grows larger every The critic cannot nor should not expect any thanks. year, I seriously doubt that the average viewer has His job is concerned with reporting to the public and grown in intelligence or taste. Certainly television, there his function ends. It has often been said that no films and the Broadway musical have served to intro­ statue has ever been erected to a critic. Oddly enough, duce more people to dance on a serious or concert though, the critic does have the last word and, if he level. However, the young audience for dance is more chooses the right words, he can illumine today's dance, ossified in its tastes than ever before. Sadly enough, preserving its essence to become tomorrow's legend. many of the younger folk hope to be professionals in If he fails, he has a curse on him because he has not the field but, for the most part, they remain blind to fulfilled his calling.

John Martin on Audiences A CONVERSATION WITH CARROLL RUSSELL

Because John Martin argued so intelligently with Elsa not only understood what these ardent pioneers were Findlay (a Dalcroze priestess), she recommended him about, but he was emotionally involved in their cause as dance critic for The New York Times when Olin and could write lucidly about it. His ambitions to act Downes asked for her advice. Mr. Martin, whose and direct were abandoned and he devoted thirty-five heart was in the theatre, accepted the position which years of his life to sitting in that 7th row aisle seat Mr. Downes offered him only because he very much in the role of guide to both audiences and dancers. needed a job. It was 1927, the beginning of the excit­ And although he protests that he must shut out audience ing years of search and discovery among the modern reaction in order to form his own detached judgment dancers. The young critic soon discovered that he of a performance, after these years of sitting among them and writing for them, who could present a more Mr. Martin remembers, for instance, when George authoritative commentary on audiences' likes and Balanchine's SERENADE was new, there was a spot dislikes, their stupidities and their discernments? in the ballet where three maidens leaning upon one man and moving as a group always caused a titter in When I asked him whether dance audiences had changed the audience. This same spot now creates no feeling during his professional career, Mr. Martin's answer of levity or embarrassment in the lookers-on. was decidedly in the affirmative. Inthe 20 's the ballet, "or what Diaghilev left of it," was frequented by old "How could dance audiences be enlarged? " I asked. people, or Europeans nostalgic for past traditions, "But first, would you like to have them enlarged, or and by 'chichi'boys with British accents. "Iwrillnever have you sat in their midst trying to blot out reactions forget," he said, "the two that Louise and I overheard for so many years that you wish they would all drop in the days of the first Ballet de Monte Carlo. As they dead?" "No, the arts should be more popular than they passed ascending the aisle, one youth said tothe other, are. The difficulty is to offer tickets at a price within 'You mean you have nevah seen Lack day Singe? How reach of the common man, and not play down to him — extrawdinry!' That company had inherited all the tired to offer him something of substance. Nowadays it is old trappings of the Diaghilev company: the name sets impossible to manage these two things (creative new and the marvelous costumes, but had lost sight of ideas and low cost seats) and make a profit too. Ob­ the substance of dance — movement of the human body viously the answer must be subsidy. for communication. Today Balanchine has rebelled against this artificiality and has largely thrown off "We can expect wider audiences. They are growing in that over-dressing." understanding all the time. For instance, when City Center first performed AGON it was so 'difficult'that I reminded Mr. Martin of a remark he had made to there was some question (partly resolved by Mr. me a few months earlier atone of Paul Taylor's con­ Martin's enthusiastic review) as to whether it should certs, that the audience resembled the audience of a be kept inthe repertoire. Now it is a standard piece. Graham concert in the early days. "Well, the best Audiences are learning to be open minded when they minds in all the arts have always been at Martha's approach something new — to come with the attitude concerts — the actors, the painters, the musicians. of the Frenchman, who does not attend the theatre, Her audiences have always been unique as she is il assiste au theatre." unique. Today her devotees gather from literally all over the world when announcement of her perform­ Doris Humphrey took a stand against the ever-present ances goes out. commercialism many years ago. Mr. Martinremem- bers that during the depression when she had been He reminisced about the old days. "Audiences at those backed into joining one of the Shuberts in some show of early modern dance concerts were a young group — theirs, he heard her retort furiously to a suggestion mostly females, as dancing was frowned upon for boys of Mr. Shubert about her dance, "Keep your predatory even more universally than it is now. They were the hands off this!" And he did. young intellectuals, not at all like our modern beat­ niks, not even like the F. Scott Fitzgerald decadent There is something very new in the State of New York type. They were rather radical politically, but at the which bodes well for a wider presentation of the arts same time pretty innocent and affirmative instead of to the public. There is a recently appointed New York destructive. They wanted to build a brave new world." State Council of the Arts — its purpose to bring the arts to "all the people," not just the lucky metropol­ What of present dance audiences? "For different kinds itans . Under its sponsorship the City Center Company of dance they are more interchangeable than ever be­ has been divided into several groups and sent out in fore. That is, some of the people go to see the great various directions through the State. They have given foreign groups which have been flooding our market, programs of technique demonstration plus one ballet. the American ballet companies, and also the modern There is such a subsequent rush of demands for more, dance concerts. You see, the latter two have been that authorities don't know how they can satisfy the drawing closer together — ballet has adapted itself to need they have created. contemporary subject matter, modern dance has be­ come more theatricalized. Here in New York there is a reliable small core that goes to anything 'good' — After watching audiences for thirty-five years John theatre, music or dance. At the ballet, there is now Martin feels no doubt that Americans are now eager a proportion of souls inthe audience who really know for and responsive to dance of all sorts. But before what they are looking at. They have comparative judg­ they can get much of it something will have to be pro­ ment as to technique and some conception of movement vided (subsidy) to make it financially possible for as communication." dancers to produce. 10 The Dancer as Audience

WELLAND LATHROP

The reaction of dancers to the performance of other are extending the natural into forms which become one dancers is, I am sure, a particular one which by nature with the esthetic, the realm of art. In each perform­ must differ from the reaction of the lay audience or ance the personal power of the performer brings fresh even from the audience of professional theatre people life to the thing which he has made. Our whole lives or musicians. are given over to perfecting the ritual, the endless repetition of an act, without error, the ritual both of It is seldom that a dancer performs for an audience technique and composition which will assure by its made up entirely of dancers. Probably the nearest one potency that the magic will stick. comes to this is at performances such as Connecticut College Summer Festival, the Jacob's Pillow pro­ Today, (and this could have been said at any time), grams, and other similar events. First nights of new when a great change seems to be taking place in all ballets or other major dance events are made up to a aspects of dance presentation, we often witness works large degree of dancers, but seldom do we find a com­ which, though technically adequate, reflect the bore­ plete dancer-audience. dom of people who have forgotten or have never known the bases upon which rituals are founded. In an atmos­ One thing that makes the dancer-audience a very par­ phere of "quiet desperation" to call upon every manner ticular one is the personal identification of every of gimmick, from pseudo-oriental pseudo-religiosity dancer with the entire field of dance. The dance per­ to pseudo-primitive exhortation, results in produc­ formance to the dancer, the musical performance to tions which far from being startling and revolutionary the musician, is quite a different thing from what it is are surprisingly old-fashioned and reminiscent of ex­ to the lay audience. When a performance fails, even periments made and abandoned forty years ago. though the dancer inthe audience may have no personal connection with it, he suffers because he feels the The need for change is constant. No artist who pro­ failure as an injury to what is closest and most im­ fesses to work creatively can be unaware that anything portant to him. When a performance succeeds, he can happen and probably will if allowed. However, feels an equally personal gratification in it. I think straining for the new and different sometimes over­ this reaction is known to every dancer who is part of reaches its goal and produces instead the old and a dance audience, though perhaps not always con­ derivative. sciously recognized. This is the main reason why dancers are often each other's severest critics. As dancer-audience, knowing something of the craft of building dances, I wish to feel that I can also partake Another particular characteristic of the dancer as of the whole creative act which is before me. This I spectator is his first-hand knowledge of what it takes share with the rest of the audience. We all want to to compose and perform a dance. This knowledge participate, but this does not mean that we must join gives him a deeper appreciation of a fellow-dancer's physically with what is taking place. achievement and a kind of vicarious participation in the creative process which produced it. There is a tendency today for dancers to exhort their audience to take an active part in the performance, Since in general it is true that the enjoyment of any and I have heard that some are stimulated and pleased art form is enhanced by the knowledge and under­ when they move their audience to throw things at them. standing of its elements, the dancer-spectator brings It seems to me that this is mistaking the creative act to a performance a capacity to enjoy which is equalled for something that in our day and age can at best be only by that of the best informed and most cultivated only a parlor game. It is true that ancient ritual members of the lay audience. from which dance derives did not make the same sharp distinction between performer and audience, but the We are in the business of creating magic. We are purpose of the ancient ritual was the experience of concerned with making something which did not exist religious ecstacy in which the esthetic element was before. In this respect we come close to the super­ purely incidental. The purposes of religion are not natural; one might better say the supra-natural. We the purposes of the theatre, even though they may have

Welland Lathrop, San Francisco dancer, choreographer and teacher, is also a member of the staff of the Creative Arts Division at San Francisco State College. 11

much in common. It is easier to proselitize than to I wait for that moment in a performance when all the submit to the demands of the imagination. elements conspire to produce the quickening of life which tells me that the magic is working. It may be There has never been any lack of audience participa­ a leap, it may be a tantalizing moment where sound tion. The audience always participates: by watching and movement create an unforgettable impression, it with rapt enjoyment, or by fidgeting, coughing, throw­ may be a particular spot in a dance such as that won­ ing things, or walking out. derful place near the end of APPALACHIAN SPRING where the young wife stands alone, the moment in The quality of audience response has never been a which everything that has gone before seems to be reliable gauge of the value or validity of a work of summed up, resolved, in this quiet breathless pause. art. There is a difference, nevertheless, between the artist who is willing to risk rejection and outrage, Such times of magical wonder tell me that the thing and one who professes to welcome and encourage them. has happened, beyond theories, beyond personality, The latter suggests to me either a wish to be relieved beyond taste or tears —but including all these. These of responsibility or some mistaken idea of reverting moments come all too seldom, but when they do, I to a primitive ritual wherein everyone participates in leave a performance with the urge to get quickly to the same way. What I look for, what audiences in work, not to reproduce that which I have just seen, general look for, perhaps unconsciously, is the com­ but to work. munication which occurs when idea and discipline are completely in the service of the imagination.

Audience at Studio Demonstration — Welland Lathrop Dance School, San Francisco. 12 Sharpening Your Sensibility as Audience MARY-AVERETT SEELYE

There are all kinds of elements that contribute to in terms of their conventional use. When it comes to sharpening one's audience sensibility— that can help the arts of acting and dance, the body must be as ready an audience become empathetic to what goes on on to move beyond convention as the proverbial cow over stage. Ina culture characterized by technical aware­ the moon. Never mind what size or age you are. In ness it is probably quite in line with today's human these sessions, you are simply a human ready to ex­ nature to presume that today's audience might profit ploit your whole being as a creative instrument. by more awareness of what the good performer is aware of. Far from such awareness killing the "magic" in theatre, today's individual may well find his exper­ Such concentrated awareness of something beyond ience enhanced through a variety of sensibility sharp- himself leads the actor into an action. That is, it enings. causes him to do something — to act — because he wants something. And it is well to understand here that "action,"as used in this guide, will always mean Such an assumption prompted the publication, ACTING, the actor's wishing and moving conceived together — by the American Association of University Women. never just the outer movement. This is described as a "feeling-into" study guide for the layman and is divided into two sections: the first Don't think of making yourself feel; think of letting invites the audience - student into working on acting yourself feel. exercises asfromtheartist'spointofview;the second section gives the student questions to consider about SPACE the actors from the audience's point of view. It seemed to us that this booklet invited readers into areas of awareness which applied not only to the play audience When your emotions cause you to "do" something, part but equally to the audience for dance. We are there­ of you or all of you "displaces" space. Whether you fore reprinting isolated passages from the guide which turn your head, lift an arm, or run from one side of seemed pertinent for a dance audience, too. the room to the other, you are involved with space. As an artist in the theatre, it is well for you to get on friendly terms with space. Acquire the habit of FEELING AND THINKING acknowledging it in all your plans. Ultimately, of course, familiarity and training should enable you to Your senses are your tools. In acting, you want to acquire a second nature awareness of space. But get on very conscious terms with them. For you must because of the common attitude that space is a void — is learn to utilize them at will and with discipline. emptiness — it is well for you consciously to revise your attitude (if you are one of those) and start consid­ ering space as a substance, as a positive element Through various exercises you may explore the inner in acting. resources of the actor and some of the outer resources that contribute to his art. In the course of the exer­ Suppose you divide your class area halfway with a cises , you may gradually become aware of the highly diagonal line. Use two or three chairs to indicate sensitive concentration required of the actor. He em­ the line. Imagine the left-hand section to be filled ploys his inner resources—not just for their own sake with taffy; the atmosphere is_taffy. The right-hand — but always in relation to something beyond him. section is a hilltop with soft green grass on it and a This may be an object, an idea, or a person. blue sky overhead, with occasional clouds floating by. The group should begin at the left to move through the We tend to think of the forms around us solely in terms taffy with the idea of getting out of it. It is under - of their conventional use and we think of our bodies stood that you can breathe despite the taffy, but it is

Mary-Averett Seelye is Co-ordlnator of the Arts Resource Center of the American Association of University Women and works In the field of Poetry-ln-Dance. These excerpts are reprinted from ACTING by Mary-Averett Seelye, published and copyrighted by the American Association of University Women. Copies of ACTING can be obtained for 60 cents from the AAUW, 2401 Virginia Avenue, N.W., Washington 7. D.C. 13

completely dark. The taffy atmosphere completely EXPLORATIONS INTO FEELING AND MOVEMENT surrounds you, to be coped with by feet, legs, torso, arms, head, eyelids and so forth. At the dividing Form a circle; each of you choose an animal, insect, line, all taffy leaves you, and clear, fresh, invigor­ bird, whatever; at a signal from the leader, all of you ating air replaces it. In this area, you indulge in all together move around the room as your animal. Make the attributes that the second place offers. another choice — quite opposite — and again explore moving as that animal.

You have been exploring ways of making space positive for you. Some of these ways have been a kind of Always keep in mind the idea that any and all movement "caricaturing" of space. Space can also be brought starts from feeling it in the center of your body. This alive by forms being placed in it. The forms them­ will help your co-ordination and give greater signifi­ selves are worth acknowledging too. And your rela­ cance to your movement. tionship to them can bring space alive. Place three objects, separated from each other, about the stage — for example, a chair lying sideways, a barrel lying Now have someone establish a regular heart-beat sideways, a small step ladder. Each of you do the tempoby clapping her hands: 1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4. Then following in turn: everyone join in clapping inthe same time. Pause after about fifteen seconds of this for the leader to While reciting some nursery rhyme or familiar ditty, demonstrate an equal accent for the opening of the explore each of the three forms in turn. By "explore" hands as is given to each clap. This will mean 1-and- I mean explore all possible opportunities for moving 2-and-3-and-4-and. Everyone join in on this for yourself into, around, over each form. This is your fifteen seconds. Don't you get the feeling of taking purpose, regardless of the rhyme you are reciting off, of beginning to go places? Repeat this two part at the same time. Reciting the rhyme is simply to exercise in various tempos, first straight, then with give you a lyrical, rhythmic pattern to help your move­ the "and" given equal accent. ments along. Through such a sample exercise a whole new world is RELAXATION sometimes opened up to participants — a world that can be applied in many ways in all the arts. It can serve as a revelation of the power or excitement latent Watch a cat for about ten minutes. Notice the relaxed in all the areas of experience which are usually taken activity it indulges in and the quality of its relaxation for granted. This is the artist's highway, whether when it rests. This is the kind of relaxation the actor composer, performer, sculptor, or whatever. The does well to acquire as a basis for all his work. actor must be alive not only in his "counts," but also in his "ands"; not only in his entrance into a space, but in the realization of where he left from. And all Distribute yourselves about the room, each standing of this awareness leads to a rhythm in his performance freely in bare feet, dance sandals, or ballet slippers (a build, a form) rather than a passing of time. and facing whoever is leader. Let your head relax forward, then your shoulders, then your whole upper body from the waist up, then your whole torso from The actor makes a habit of memorizing his feelings the hips up. So you end bending double, your hands in different circumstances. Thus he builds up a store reaching towards the floor, but in a relaxed state. Re­ of remembered emotions from which to draw at will. verse this procedure in one long sustained movement You will make a better theatre audience if you too to stand erect again. Repeat the exercise ten times. sharpen your sensibilities in this way. Learning to relax sections of your body — or your whole body — at will is a very important discipline in acting. Now, with your legs apart, reach way up RELATING SOUND AND MOVEMENT to your right with both arms, still facing front. Swing down, bending at the waist, and up, ending by reaching Have you ever explored making sounds while you move way up to your left. Do this ten times. Enjoy the your body in different ways? For example, what sound sensation of being suspended as you reach high and comes out easiest as you bend over to reach the floor relaxing down into the swing and up suspended again. with your hands? When you put your head way back Think of yourself as a bell swinging, not as yourself and try to touch the ceiling with your chin? Have each picking things up and putting them on a shelf! Perhaps person explore this. Trythis again saying any words some of you can think up other exercises to drop and that come to mind which contain the most satisfying suspend the whole body or parts of the body. sounds as you bend down and as you reach up with your 14

chin. This is an elementary step in associating move­ the actor who has trained his muscles and enjoys using ment and speaking unrelated to conventional gestures his body and the performer whose experience is limited or the conventions of emotional expression. Try all to standing, sitting, walking, lighting cigarettes, tak­ kinds of movement and sound (or word) relationships ing a drink, and answering the telephone! See not only until all members of the group have had the satisfaction what he obviously does, but see whether he is filled of experiencing this unity. with a whole store of potentialities.

Have everyone repeat the following lines until they Going further, watch to see whether the movement know them by heart: occurring on stage seems tobe inevitable when it hap­ pens. Does it grow out of the actors' concentration "Little bits of poetry on what they are trying to do, or are there moments Make a happy land when the movement appears contrived or in excess of Landing. what is needed for the "truth" of the moment9 Un­ When they see the land trained performers or directors will sometimes cook Landing."! up movement or "business," as it is sometimes called, to "bring alive" moments on stage. Unless the actor Gradually start moving these word- sounds as though or actors make a relationship between this activity your whole body were releasing them, not just your and their underlying action or purpose, the event can mouth. For a while everyone might be repeating the appear contrived. An empty stage with one actor com­ words at the same time they are doing their movement. pletely concentrating on his action may in fact be more Then you might break up and let each person work in alive than a stage full of actors running madly about an area off by herself: you may or may not wish to without any concentration to fill their movement. showthe others what you've worked out. Orthe leader might wander around observing and commenting on You may be realizing by now that the physical and each person's work. The tendency with many people emotional development in the actor's technique is an is to limit movement to hands and arms. Bring your interdependent process. whole body into the picture, remembering the idea of feeling the movement coming from the center of your body. COMING ALIVE TO SETS AND LIGHTING

If you have the time and inclination, you might work Your trip to the theatre this time will call on you to on the following passage in the same sort of way: give particular attention to the sets and lighting em­ ployed in the play — and to the actors' use of these "The mar of murmury murmers to the effects. mind's ear, uncharted rock, evasive weed. Only the caul knows his thousandfirst name, Essentially the set is there to help the actor advance Hocus Crocus, Esquilocus, Finnfinn the the action of the play in the most integrated and effec­ Faineant, how feel full foes in furrinarr."2 tive way possible. As you watch what goes on, try applying these questions: Never mind if you don't understand the meaning of this passage. Throw caution to the winds. Enjoy the Does the set seem to need an actor in it to com­ plete it? words and the arrangement of the words for them­ selves. This is a way of providing an experience with Or does it look as though it might perfectly well words, yet freeing you from the "habitual gesture" not be in the theatre? type of movement. Do you sense that everything on stage has an in­ tention behind it which makes it necessary to be there at that time, in that place? WATCHING MOVEMENT This last question can best be answered as the play You will want to note whether the actor is at ease in proceeds and you see how the actors relate tothe set. the use of his body. Does his body help or hinder him in what he seems to be trying to do? Do you feel the Do the arrangements of walls, of levels, of en­ actor is capable of turning a somersault if he were trances, of windows, serve the actors or com­ called upon to do so? Is he just a hand- or a face- pete with them? actor, or do his ribs, his hips, his shoulders, his Where and when does the set seem to fail the actors ieet contribute to the full expression of his action? or the actors fail the set in relation to the play's It is not too difficult to note the distinction between action? 15

Seeing a person come through a two-foot-deep doorway, Do the costumes suit the characters? If not, is for example, can have quite a different effect from it because the actor hasn't made the costume seeing someone enter a two-inch-deep doorway. his own, so to speak, or does the costume indeed lack a relationship to the play as a whole These questions are applicable to the lighting too. or to that character in particular? Lighting the stage is not simply to illuminate the phy­ Do the actors "use" their costumes effectively for sical setup in the art of theatre. It, too, can contribute the character s they are playing — not obviously, to the unfolding of the action on stage. but as though they needed these particular cos­ tumes for these particular situations? What happens when a character is lit just from one side, or just overhead, or just from below? Is there a consistency from hairdo to shoes in the actor's appearance? What is the difference in impact on you seeing a Does the actor seem to "feel" the moving-ness or character move from a light area into a dim stiffness of what he is wearing as consistent area into a light area, as distinct from his with the character he is playing? moving that same distance in equal light? What are the emotional effects produced by dim­ PROJECTION ming or brightening an area as a character moves along it towards the light source or away from the light source? It is this extraordinary aliveness of the actor's human- ness that makes for projection on stage. Some theatre When you go to see this next production, note how the people try to achieve projection by loudness, or fast­ lighting is used. This should be quite difficult to do, ness, or suddenness. The theatre artist achieves if the use is good —or if no particular use is made of it through keen, concentrated, integrated use of his the lights at all. At least you can begin to notice whole inner and outer equipment. whether an attempt is made to "move" the lighting within the design of the play. AWARENESS CAN SERVE YOU How aware are the actors of the lighting? Do they perform in what seems to be an instinctive The total impact of the production, of course, is the relation to it? final test. The experienced and intelligent theatre­ goer responds on many levels simultaneously. He is For example, on an extremely practical level, some in the theatre for the total impact of every moment. performers seem to be unaware of what the light is The knowledge, the awareness, you develop of the doing around them, or even whether they are in light elements spelled out in this guide not only can make or in dimness. The sensitive actor lets the lighting you, too, a more sensitive spectator, but can con­ play on him, affect him, just as he does with the set tribute to your understanding of the failures or suc­ and the other actors. cesses of your theatre experience. It may also help you in making decisions as a potential board member of a community theatre, or as a parent looking for a MAKE-UP AND COSTUME CAN HELP AND HINDER good college drama department, or as a pioneer in turning a play-reading group from a literary or socio­ logical exploration into a drama exploration. In other In your next visit to the theatre, note which actors words, this guide is here to encourage you to care seem to have taken time and given special thought to about artistic standards in theatre, not to turn you into a particular make-up for a particular character, which a theatre authority. In fact, may we caution you against actors seem to have a sense of constructing their faces such an assumption9 Keep your discussions, your for stage distance or formality, which ones have put assessments of what you see, within your group. Draw on "heavy street make-up" for their parts. on leadership from your community, of course, but beware of cutting your critic-teeth in public! The matter of costume is primarily in the hands of the director and designer. The actor often shares his thoughts on costuming — sometimes he solely deter­ mines it — but for an integrated artistic production, the designer and director make the decisions. 1 Gertrude Stein. STANZAS IN MEDITATION. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1956. 2 James Joyce. FINNEGANS WAKE. New York: The Viking Ask yourself these questions in your next theatre visit: Press, 1939. 16

Hanya Holm, Ruth Currier, and Merce Cunningham are choreographers who represent the art of making dances from different points of view. Miss Holm's choreography is expressive of some basic premise to the audience. She is concerned with "getting the idea across. . .informing through bodily expression. . .forming an entity, an emotional statement that will have an aesthetic value to the audience." She has become Broadway's leading choreographer by providing the dances for many musical comedies including KISS ME KATE, MY FAIR LADY, and CAMELOT.

Ruth Currier, like Miss Holm, is interested in expressing the emotional life of man. She says of her purpose, "I try to make some kind of sense out of the randomness and confusion of being alive. Because I am concerned with people this takes the form of dance. The sense, the forms, are those having to do with people, their relationship to each other and within themselves." Her audiences for such dances as "The Antagonists," "Dangerous World," and "Toccanta" have been dance concert go-ers in New York, at the American Dance Festivals in Connecticut, and in many cities and places in the United States visited on tour.

Playing to a very similar audience as that of Miss Currier, Merce Cunningham creates choreography which is different in its intention towards the audience. Rather than making dances which are "about" anything, he choreographs works that are to be seen solely for themselves. Dances such as "Rune" and "Aeon" are to be perceived forthe relationships within the work, not references to outside events. Mr. Cunningham states his choreographic purpose is "to make a dance. Whether it is pleasing or not is an individual responsibility. I do not find something that is ugly necessarily uninteresting."

What audience do these choreographers desire for their works, if they have such a desire? What role does the audience play in their art? What have they found in their performances that will reveal more about this relationship? Here are some of their opinions and observations obtained in separate informal interviews:

1. What do you expect of the Miss Holm: To respond, to understand, to accept or resent. You members of an audience? hope there will be a reaction in them, rather than indifference; that What is it they should do? is the worst. Miss Currier: I can't say they have an obligation as strong as the question implies. I am pursuing them, and having persuaded them to listen to me; they should listen. They should leave their biases and prejudices aside and try to see what is on the stage, not the vision of the stage they might have in their minds ... to lay themselves open to what is being offered and to understand not solely through the intel­ lect, but to understand through the muscles and non-intellectual capac­ ities. Not that I eliminate the intellectual, but that is only a part of the man. What I hope to do is dig deeply enough into the choreographic subject, below the external impressions that I may have to arrive at a more basic statement that will evoke resonances mothers. This I hope will be an expression of my humanity, not my "Ruth Currier-ness." Mr. Cunningham: I don't expect anything of an audience. They are there, and I might hope for their complete attention: that is, the individual attention ... to give themselves to the moment. To look, to listen, to be present and belong to the moment.

2. Can you describe the Mr. Cunningham: Actually the "audience" isn't real . . . that's a most desirable audience? mythical term. Itis a group of individuals . . . any group reacts differently, (later) The university audience is the most stimulating one we've got. They are still concerned with experimentation, not only in dance, but in music and painting. Miss Holm: The audience with a temperament that will have an opinion and show it, so that the performer knows what he is doing. Carol Scothorn, a member of the dance faculty at the University of California, Los Angeles, is presently on leave in New York studying dance. She has been awarded the Doris Humphrey Fellowship for 1962 at Connecticut College School of the Dance. 17

Choreographers Talk About the Audience

The audience provides aguidepost for the performer. It does not have to be a positive reaction, but they respond. Miss Currier: The question implies, doesn't it, that there are some undesirables? There aren't any undesirables. The only way I can discuss it is in terms of the audience I can reach. I don't prefer dancing for my friends, and the least likely audience members are the most desirable. Also the ones whose life would be most enriched.

3. What are the capacities Miss Holm: He is responsive, comes without a chip on his shoulder, of the audience member so to speak. He can form his own opinion in terms of what he sees, who can do what you want not a pre-conceived idea which blocks what it is I have to say. He is him to? open to impressions. Miss Currier: He doesn't have to reduce his experiences simply to words. He is capable of having non-verbal experiences and letting them rest as such. Mr. Cunningham: (Mr. Cunningham did not answer this question directly; my own conclusion from his conversation was that he appreci­ ates a person who concentrates. Other inferences may be drawn from questions 6 and 8).

4. What is the ideal col- Miss Currier: Those who were stirred, not soothed by a completely lection of people, then, for felicitous experience. Even outraged! But those who responded in an audience ? terms of what I am doing. I don't want to be rejected because I don't wear toe shoes and do fouettes. The response must be in my own terms. Mr. Cunningham: I don't think an ideal audience exists. Ideal for whom? Perhaps an audience of one, but if that person were really attentive, there would be something he could disagree with.

5. Does the audience mem- Miss Holm: No ber have to have danced in Mr. Cunningham: Does one have to have been a fish in order to swim? order to participate? Miss Currier: No. There are many paths to the person in the audi­ ence . Perhaps he can be reached through his visual perception or through some philosophical concept, or maybe he just likes pretty girls . . . Any way that opens his view is good. Ultimately dance may reach him on a variety of levels. Until then the one who sees only the pretty girls will probably be bored a lot of the time. 6. Many performers speak Miss Holm: That they participate, are responsive, quick on the up- of some audiences being take, especially of the humorous. They have a sense of humor. The better than others. What opposite kind who "sit on their hands" are dead. They do not jump in- does this mean? to life . . . they are just the sitters who take the days as they fall. They want everything done for them and take no active part in life or the theater. Some, on the other hand, would like to participate and don't know how or cannot show it. Miss Currier: Sometimes there is that mystical communication be­ tween audience and performer. You sense it in the total silence, the timing of applause. I wish I knew (more about it.) So much of the reason for audience behavior . . . performer, too ... is unconscious, sub­ conscious, preconscious. There are so many variables. A transporta­ tion strike may affect the person's receptivity, and so on. 18

Mr. Cunningham: A marvelous audience is an interested audience. Interest does not imply being pleased as being interested, not even the necessity to pass judgement, but the bringing of faculties into play.

7. How do you consider the Miss Holm: I don't consider them at all. You could not try to please audience when you are cre­ so many people. You hope you are articulate enough to reach an audi­ ating a dance? ence in general. Mr. Cunningham: Only visually. Most of my dances are made so they could be danced in the round. 8. How do you feel about Miss Holm: You go on. You are not teaching then. You cannot in­ the audience member who struct him. It is not gratifying, but you can't resent it. makes a "mistake" and ap­ Miss Currier: He is interested in personalities, not in the state­ plauds in the place where ment . . .Oh, you can't help being flattered as a performer when you no applause was necessar­ are applauded. As a choreographer perhaps you resent it. ily intended? Do you re­ sent this ? Mr. Cunningham: Such a reaction is only a "mistake" if the choreo­ grapher has preconceived a reaction. But if the reaction is left to the individual inthe audience, then laughing or applause is legitimate, and I prefer laughter to psychology.

9. What about the person Miss Holm: You go on. who leaves? Mr. Cunningham: I don't mind. Leaving is as responsive as staying. Miss Currier: Then you have failed to reach him.

10. This is purely hypo­ Miss Holm: Only for yourself. thetical, but if the entire Mr. Cunningham: This is not a proper question, as the event has not audience left would you happened, but I will say I would be likely to continue and complete the continue dancing? situation. Miss Currier: The question seems to be: do I dance for myself or for an audience, and the answer is, "both." There are three possible reasons to dance: one is for the dancer's own self-expressive needs, like a child, for the joy of moving and for emotional catharsis; the second is social: to satisfy integrative impulses in the experience of dancing with others as in folk and social dancing. The third is to com­ municate what words cannot say, as in gestures that often happen in conversation. For me all three are elements in the dance art, so to dance without an audience would be an incomplete artistic endeavor.

11. Does the behavior of the Miss Holm: Not as a choreographer. It affects the performer. audience affect you? Mr. Cunningham: Naturally, it affects, and at its greatest physically. I do not mean to change a dance to suit a particular audience, but peo­ ple do affect people. I am not concerned with choreographic success or failure. And to try to please is only to fool yourself. Whom do you please?

12. How do you evaluate the Miss Holm: You feel it. From the spontaneity. Also from what they reception of your work by say. the audience? 13. If they disapprove do Miss Holm: It has to be proven more than once. You cannot consider you ever change your chor­ them idiots just because they cannot under stand. I could be wrong . . . eography? Audiences are a fickle business. Friends provide a false participation, and sometimes the unfriendly ones are seeing it just so they can "hit you over the head." Mr. Cunningham: (He has answered this point quite clearly in question 11.) 19

14. Many audience members Miss Holm: If I have their respect, that is the important thing. If I come with biases. How do cannot get that, I had better examine myself. you feel about them? Miss Currier: One never knows. Of course, he's a challenge. Every­ one comes with a bias. Sometimes it's in terms of dance, sometimes he likes blondes better than brunettes. These are the challenges.

15. How do American audi­ Mr. Cunningham: American audiences are not greatly different from ences compare with those audiences (elsewhere). They are perhaps less vocal; they will giggle in other countries? Are nervously rather than laugh outright or talk. they, as some artists have Miss Holm: No, they are no more apathetic than others. You must suggested, apathetic? arouse them properly. You must give them something alive, which has a shape and a form. There must be a spark of life that gets across the footlights, so that you can lift them up. Miss Currier: Different audiences express their reactions differently because of cultural patterns. The performer has no more right to quarrel with his audiences' modes of expression than the audience has to regret my lack of toe shoes. We may misunderstand each other through these differences, but the effort on both sides should be to understand.

16. Do you feel there is a Miss Holm: The concert audiences come because they want to see difference between Broad­ what dances you have for them this time. The Broadway audience is way and concert audiences? not necessarily coming for the dances at all, but for the total production, or some other aspect of it. 17. How does this affect you as a choreographer? Miss Holm: Not at all in the creation, but it does affect the performer.

18. Is there anything else Mr. Cunningham: The dance audience inthe United States is growing you have observed about rapidly. What isn't growing is the number of performances given by the audience that you would dancers for it. comment upon? Miss Holm: Many people are afraid to have emotions. They are en­ tirely within themselves. Miss Currier: Often they don't read their programs.

Both Miss Currier and Miss Holm felt that opening a work "on the road" so to speak was a good idea, so that the dance would have time to mature. Mr. Cunningham felt that there was no "special" place where he would perfer to premiere a work. He commented; ". . . each person is an individual and no situation is more special than that. Perhaps the answer these days might be, "wherever it is most practical."

Although all three at first denied the existence of an "ideal" audience or audience member, eventually in their conversation they began to speak approvingly of some audience qualities and disapprovingly of others. The good qualities mentioned included: "bright, unbiased, perceptive, open, responsive, alive, quick, who look, listen, see, understand, have temperament, participate, exercise their faculties, do not pass judgement, and have an opinion."

Regardless of the apparent conflict between the last two mentioned, there is a definite consistency. It seems that regardless of purpose and style of choreography, these artists are talking about an audience that is actively aware of the dance going on.

These choreographers do not ask favoritism by seeking confederates or claques, or an audience too easily or superficially entertained. Nor, obviously, do they seek the person unresponsive or unwilling to have a new experience.

Dancing in the theater requires activity on the part of the performer and on the part of the audience. It is the kind of activity described by Mr. Cunningham, Miss Currier, and Miss Holm that differs. 20

Audiences Around the World

San Francisco Ballet performs in the New Engineering College Hall, Bangkok, 1957

Tom Two Arrows in a village performance, Pakistan

San Francisco Ballet Audience in Rangoon, Burma, 1957 21 4 ^1 B^^^rVK • \ v ^ v

$/ 0 Trrrrsmn BPttM i * -• - is, I *.t A "*»* « V.J «• if i>* "" - 22

Stuart Hodes and Donald McKayle in a lecture-demonstration presented by the Martha Graham Company, Kuala Lampur, Malaya

Burmese dancers perform for members of the San Francisco Ballet, Rangoon, 1957 23

The conductor as audience - Arthur Fiedler observes the performance of L'HISTOIRE DU SOLDAT at the Paul Masson Vineyards, Saratoga, California, 1961

Audience for L'HISTOIRE DU SOLDAT at the Paul Masson Vineyards, Saratoga, California, 1961 Choreographer — Welland Lathrop 24

Typical reaction of an audience of children at one of the Merry- Go-Rounders' performances, 1959

The audience at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York City 25

Mario (famous Balinese dancer) teaching young pupils how to perform religious dances, Here he shows the movement of the hands and torso. At right the Gamelan Orchestra.

'"-•X"" 4 26

Photograph by Irving Haberman, courtesy of DANCE MAGAZINE

Ticket line for the Bolshoi Ballet 27 Criticism — The Period of the 30's SUSAN KEENE STITT

When modern dance burst upon the scene somewhere DANCE OBSERVER, had occasion to remark: between 1924 and 1929, critics and public alike were New York City has become a continuous world's unprepared for it. Martha Graham gave her first re­ fair of the dance, where celebrated international cital in New York in 1926 to a small and bewildered devotees of the art continue to meet, exchange audience. By 1928 and the arrival of Doris Humphrey compliments and insults, and enlarge the di­ and Charles Weidman from the Denishawn School in mensions as well as the vocabulary of dance California, there were small and scattered audiences art at every encounter. 4 of largely uninformed and confused patrons. 1 In the beginning it seems everybody was confused. The There was an air of pride as critics, newly born, artists were not quite sure how to communicate with looked back to the time when there were no real critics their audiences or, for that matter, how much they and no knowledgeable audiences. wanted to communicate. The audiences, coming with pre-conceived ideas and hopes, felt put off and frus­ Five short years ago no major newspaper inthe trated. The critics (either the already busy music east ever thought it necessary or expedient to critics or the leftovers from sports and feature sec­ establish critics and departments dedicated to tions) were no more enlightened than the general the dance. There was a general if somewhat audiences. It took roughly five years to establish casual acceptance of the dance as music, and rapport among artists, critics, and audiences. After when Duncan, Pavlova, Diaghilev flashed across a decade, there still were inevitable communication the news, music-critics dutifully girded up their problems, but this has always been the fate of the loins and came to grips witha subject which sent artist. At least in this short period two things were them into uneasy tremors of rapture or floored built: the beginnings of intelligent criticism and a them, gasping with resentment against an alien select audience, which felt rapport with the efforts of force.5 the dancers. Statistics dragged in for the sake of argument The first to pay serious attention to the emerging will prove that the winter of 1930-31 reached the modern dance were theatre people. As early as 1928 peak of dance activities, in contrast to 1926-27 THEATRE ARTS MONTHLY featured portraits and when the first stirrings in a long sleep gave only monographs on Martha Graham, and thereafter hardly a few scattered recitals to a world as yet un­ an issue appeared without some item of interest from aware. Now we take as a matter of course the the dance world. 2 The influence of theatre critics and two hundred or more events which include every the concern of the dancers themselves probably en­ form of dance interest from lectures and forums couraged the cultivation of specialized critics of the to folk-dancing, motion choirs, and the ubiqui­ dance. They were the first to see the future potential tous recital. If the seasons immediately fol­ of the revived interest in the dance and to realize that lowing the full winter 1930-31 have been leaner, the sister arts had much to learn from each other. It out of the catastrophe — principally economic — took a comparatively short time for these hopes to be has arisen, oddly enough, the most reassuring realized, for in the span of a decade the dance emerged aspect of the whole phenomenal affair: a sur­ from "the lecture demonstration and the concert stage, vival of the fittest, and the mutual recognition and found itself witha craft and theatre values as de­ between dance and theatre of a pregnant compat­ finite and yet as dramatically exciting as any that dance ibility. Last season, for the first time, music could create."3 This push toward the theatre showed critics sat back at their ease while dance critics trod in some bewilderment upon the toes of their itself from the beginning, so that toward the end of the 6 thirties the line between the concert stage and theatre colleagues of the drama. production was very fine indeed. As the dance matured so, too, did its public and its critics. Immediately the new critics came under the scrutiny of dancers and the public. The audience, as it gained In 1931, three short years after all three artists rapport with the artist, began to watch forthe slips of (Graham, Humphrey and Weidman) were established the critics whose new responsibility certainly could in New York, Lucile Marsh, later an editor of not have been easy. There was much antagonism and Susan Keene Stltt has written THE AUDIENCE AND THE CRITIC as a chapter for an Independent Study in the graduate division of the Dance Department at the University of California, Los Angeles. 28

mutual criticism on the part of critics and audience. were having trouble growing up, so were the patrons of "Until we can demand expert knowledge and impersonal the dance. All who attended the Graham and Humphrey- criticism in the dance, the public is better off without Weidman concerts were by no means sensitive dev­ dance critics."7 The new scholars and serious stu­ otees of a new art. Many went simply to be amusedat dents of dance often had little but scorn for their the grotesque and bizarre which they were unable to newspaper fellows. Lucile Marsh writes: understand. In certain circles it was the thing to do. It was smart to be seen at a Graham concert: it was On the WORLD-TELEGRAM, a friend of the sub- chic to be able to rattle off the names of her latest dramatic critic volunteered his services in compositions, and to criticize the merits of this or order to sign his initials, E. E., to dance crit­ that new work. Little of this had anything at all to do icisms, and broadcast his naivete on all dance with the heart of the art. A dance concert attended by matters. He has guessed wrong so many times the uninitiated evoked such comments as the following, in these few months that he has already disproved which is cited by one of the theatre critics: the law of averages. 8 Dance criticism! At Martha Graham's last re­ cital the man inthe row behind and his lady were Another irate critic, Joseph Arnold of THE AMERI­ very early somewhat bored. He bought lemon­ CAN DANCER, whose own dance criticism could bear ades which they sucked loudly through their some scrutiny, writes about the same "E. E.": straws and finished just about the time when "Dithyrambic" finally ended. The "Satyric Fes­ As an example of the sort of dance criticism tival Song," however, caught the man's attention. most New York newspapers publish, note the "See," he said, "now she represents something. following excerpt from a review of Martha An animal, maybe. A bear! No, a duck! Sure, Graham's recitals, written by "E. E." for the a duck." This decision prevailed until the last WORLD TELEGRAM: angular gesture and then changed suddenly and finally. "No! A donkey! Sure, a donkey!" They "The dancer's personal glow and conceptual say New York has the most sophisticated dance brilliance are unquestionable. She occupies audience in the world today. 12 the stage with sureness and dignity. Her move­ ments contain exquisite, unpredictable geometry Not all inthe audience were of this mind. Quite soon, whose freshness and originality regularly keep there emerged a discerning group, and certainly from the spectatorial eye from going dead . . ."9 the earliest days, there were those who explored levels of meaning wdth as much care as the artists who created Not uncommonly critics became enraptured with the the evocative compositions. New York responded ring of their own prose, and often they got carried quickly and warmly tothe art, faithfully attending the away with personal prejudices. A reviewer on THE concerts of all major artists, and at the same time AMERICAN DANCER staff, for example, ignored such encouraging the newer and lesser aspirants to fame. basics as structure, unity and congruity in saying: In this period when money was scarce and when "... there was a bit too much of how shall I say it, times in general were hard, New Yorkers flocked to certain grotesque pose with the derriere pushed into see the profound and timely statements of the sensitive prominence which defies me as to its meaning."10 The artists. Lines formed before all performances and reviewer, Albertina Vitak, a former dancer, con­ the galleries were packed with devotees. This was tinued in the same review: particularly true of the followers of Martha Graham, an artist who attracted a veritable cult of worshipers. In the last scene of QUEST (Charles Weidman) She was the most difficult to understand, her work the almost the entire company were on the floor, most disturbing, and she herself the most adored — so feet in the air, and one's attention is nilly-willy much that audiences burst into spontaneous applause drawn tothe now very dirty soles of these feet. and ended her concerts with standing ovations. Almost I've often wondered why modern dancers couldn't every review of her concerts notes this fact. It got to get the same effect if they wore sandals —or are the point where objective criticism, even for the ar­ the bare feet a symbol of something or other?! tistically conscientious, became difficult around the I'm sure everybody would be happier ... if blind enthusiasm of the Graham devotees. shoes were worn, except when bare feet are in­ dicated. 11 Meanwhile, certain of the critics were perfecting their knowledge and critical acumen. In 1936 John Martin, This practically irrelevant criticism appeared in re- in a series of articles for THE AMERICAN DANCER viewafter review of the early years. But if the critics and in his book, AMERICA DANCING, clarified the 29 elements comprising the new dance. One of the first If he will approach the modern dance as con­ to appreciate new ideas, various approaches, and the sisting of patterns of movement which arise out importance of kinesthetic response, he pointed out that of the emotional conviction of one human being no one technique could be labeled the modern dance, about the life around him, and will allow these because each artist had to develop his own methods patterns of movement to awaken in his muscular to suit his individual needs. Also, at this time, memory equivalent experiences of his own emo­ audience and critics began to demand evidence of tional life, he will have found the proper means technique. Ideas alone were no longer enough to merit of making his contact with the dance. 1" the intelligent attention of more perceptive audiences. George Beiswanger, looking back with some pride at The success of the meeting between dancer and spec­ the decade of the thirties, notes this: tator and between dancer and critic did not progress consistently, but by the end of the decade, when the There is a simple aesthetic demand, increas­ modern concert dance was on the threshold of the ingly felt by dancer and audience alike, which theatre, the increase in mutual understanding was since 1927 has been giving American dance a manifold. sense of direction. It is the demand that the dancer become more secure in the technique of There is still a considerable gap between the her art and more effective as a theatre person, artist's statement and the dance comprehension that she create the firm and impelling dance pre­ of the audience. But the knowledge of the gap on sence so strikingly exemplified in a Martha the part of the dancer has been stimulus to his Graham. efforts to lessen it—and as for the dance audi­ ence, it does not diminish, but grows broader, We are coming to know the difference between more sympathetic, more eager to understand — 7 the bungled movement and the confident move­ and is still intelligently critical.I ment, the uncertain and the exact effect. 13 Thus over a period of years, the comprehension of the This realization demanded more from the dancer than audiences, the perception of the critic grew with and ever before and contributed to the kind of perfection in response to the demands of the dancers. The critic which was to appear in full length productions at the and the enlightened audience played a major role in end of the decade. the development of the concert dance. The public was ready for the new dance, indeed needed the new dance After a wave of popular pseudo - intellectualism, as an expression of its inner turmoil. The dancers' Martin made a plea to the audience to know and appre­ work reflected the anxiety of the age; the critic focused ciate modern dance on its own terms. The spectator dance for an understanding audience. must learn to recognize skill, unity and structure, but at the same time he must not lose the innocence and spontaneity of approach which was the plea of the fore­ 1 George Beiswanger. "The American Audience and Dance." THEATRE ARTS MONTHLY, XXIV (1940), p.631. runner of modern dance, Isadora Duncan. He says: 2 THEATRE ARTS MONTHLY, all issues, Vol. XII and there­ after . It is quite unnecessary — indeed, definitely 3 Beiswanger, op.cit., p.637. harmful to try to figure out a dance as if it were 4 Lucile Marsh, "These Moderns of the Dance, "THEATRE a conundrum of a guessing game; the brain MAGAZINE (March, 1931), p.38. need not be thus racked, but might much better 5 Mary F. Watkins, "Outlook for the Dance, "THEATRE ARTS be allowed to conserve its strength for the MONTHLY, XVn (1933), p.733. 6 Ibid., p.734. function it is supposed to perform in the case, 7 Lucile March, "Criticizing the Critics, "THE AMERICAN namely, to translate the sensory impressions DANCER (January, 1934), p.10. received from the dancer's performance into 8 Ibid. motor terms and the corresponding emotional 9 Joseph Arnold, a reviewin THE AMERICAN DANCER (March, states which automatically associate themselves 1934), p. 18. 10 Albertina Vitak, a review in THE AMERICAN DANCER therewith. 14 (March, 1937), p. 19. When a spectator at a dance performance is un­ 11 Ibid. able to recognize the movements of the dancer 12 A review in THEATRE ARTS MONTHLY. XVII (1933), p. 405. 13 Beiswanger, op.cit., p.634. and to associate them with his own experience, 14 John Martin, "Modern Dance — How It Functions," THE it is precisely because his kinesthetic sense is AMERICAN DANCER (February, 1937), p.47. not functioning. He is in the same situation as 15 Ibid., p.24. a tone-deaf man would be at an orchestral con­ 16 Ibid., p.47. cert, he is sitting in the hall in the presence of 17 A review in DANCE OBSERVER(June^July, 1938), p.88. a work of art, but it has no meaning for him. I5 30 A Non-Dancer's View of Dance on TV WILLIAM I. OLIVER

There was a time, before my three children became dancers in scenery. Upon occasion some misguided the arbiters of my household, when I used to go to but enterprising producer gets a "brilliant" idea of plays, ballet, dance programs, musical concerts, staging ballet in some unlikely place such as Rocke­ films, performances of all kinds, even lectures and feller Plaza — the spectacle of a ballet corps hoofing poetry readings. Now I suffer the fate of the built- about on cement or across a rocky countryside is in baby sitter: I watch TV. Over the past five years always good for a wince. TV photographers and direc­ I've become thoroughly acquainted with the fare pro­ tors seem unable to resist the urge for close-ups— vided by our electric cornucopia of entertainment. and if there is one thing we should never see it is a The fate of the television dancer has impressed me as gasping ballet dancer. The TV studio also fails to being particularly disturbing. There is no question provide the choreographer of ballet with his indis­ that TV employs more dancers than any other dramatic pensable proscenium. Thus his formal and geometric medium, and, I presume, it pays them well. Un­ configurations lose their clarity and effectiveness. fortunately the medium and its industry have done little When seen in the maw of a TV studio, the beauty and to promote the artistic expression of the dancer. The propriety of the movements of the ballet corps appear very term "TV dancer" summons a vision of herds of naked and naive. Finally, there is a certain indecorum rubbery young men and women stretching angularly to the situation of witnessing ballet in one's living in athletic versions of the twist, jitterbug, shag, and room, den, or bedroom. black bottom. Popular TV dance is jazz dance, me­ chanical in its choreography and distinguished only by The most successful treatment of ballet that I have its unusual dullness and thorough monotony. At best seen is the tendency on one of the large music hours it aims to startle one by the grotesquery of its pos­ to employ nothing but pas de deux. Two ballet dancers tures, or to hypnotize us by its finger snapping, or to moving in well-organized spatial staging are beauti­ bedazzle us by turning the dancers into syncopated ful things to watch. For reasons already mentioned cross-country runners. So much for the popular bulk the ballet corps cannot help but look rather foolish in of dance on TV. the TV studio, and no amount of low shots through legs or trick shots under the arm pits will vindicate Of a week-day afternoon all the Humbert Humberts of their aesthetic migration from the stage to the studio. America and their female counterparts, the — for lack of a better name let's call them the Hermione Modern dancers (and don't ask me to define that term) Hermiones of America can usually feast themselves fare better than any other breed of dancer yet pro­ on a spectacle of assorted nymphets and duck-tailed jected onto the TV screen. Perhaps this is because sprites squirming in pulsating monotony to the pro­ many of them admit a certain dramatic control to their vocative grunting and howling of the latest rock-and- performance. I have actually seen some dancers roll banshee. I'm sure that some readers willquestion photographed quite intimately in a small studio and the mention of such programs in the context of this have been impressed by the "truth" of their expres­ piece. However, we must not forget that these pro­ sions as well as that of their movements. Upon oc­ grams take up fourteen to sixteen hours of network casion one finds a program of folk dance (usually time per week (these are the approximate figures in Spanish or Israeli) but not often. my viewing area). Therefore, they provide TV audi­ ences with the major portion of dance viewing available I find that the best time to catch good dancing on one's on their sets. If these kids are not unionized, they TV screen is early Sunday morning when three quar­ should be and, at the risk of casting myself as a ters of the nation is still sleeping. Delightfully enough Humbert Humbert, let me add that they are often as the best work seems to be done on a religious program. skilled at contortionism and finger snapping as any­ One Sunday morning I was lucky enough to twist my dial thing I've seen on the major network extravaganzas. onto a group of African dancers who performed in a large dark space punctured by spot lights. On this Ballet, if possible, is less successful on TV than itis morning I saw with my own eyes a man trying to be­ on the movie screen. A good many, though not all, TV come an ostrich in order to prove to the ostriches that, designers have a tendency to engulf the poor ballet as a man, he could be more ostrich-like than they.

William I. Oliver is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Dramatic Art, University of California, Berkeley. 31

Some weeks later I took my children to the zoo and I was delighted to discover how clumsy the ostriches were at their own game.

— When you come to think of it, one experience such as this (and, believe me, there have been several) is enough to make up for many an hour of syncopated SEEING contortionism and finger snapping. the da nee w'twk.MaMty'reDaKcittg" or WHY AUDIENCES ARE »« CONTROVERSIAL ABOUT A*T DANCE PERFORMANCE - or -

NIK KREVITSKY

Critic seats inthe center and on the aisle are obviously Being present at the event, no matter what its quality, provided for more than convenient escape. It is pre­ does not guarantee an aesthetic experience on any sumed that they, the critics, as supreme evaluators level. I recently saw many people sitting and reading are given an opportunity for optimum viewing of the while in the presence of some of the world's greatest performance. It is also presumed that if they are art. The National Gallery has comfortable benches comfortable andcanviewthe performance with a min­ on which Londoners relax while reading the daily tab­ imum of strain, they are likely to look more kindly loids in the presence of (but untouched by) world on the goings-on. But do we ask whether they have masterpieces. The "tired business man" dozing at 20/20 vision? the opera is not there for aesthetic purposes. Why does he have to deprive someone else of a seat with Perception theorists are saying a lot these days about good sight lines? what we see, that we don't "see" what we "see," and how seeing a dance performance is a most complex The ideal theater for dance has yet to be built. No experience. The educated eye will "see" differently structure, however well designed, could provide every from the wide-eyed novice. The jaded habitue in his member of a dance audience with the same view. Each 12th row center spot will react with a different kind one's image differs physically in terms of one's dis­ of sophistication from that of the young initiate sitting tance left or right, above or below, the actual area in the last row of the gallery. The level of experience where the event is being unfolded. A front row seat depends a great deal on what each member of the allows for marvelous detail and fantastic distortion. audience brings with him. Most fortunate is he who Sometimes the illusion is destroyed by backstage im­ comes without preconceived notions or confused ex­ pedimenta. The balcony view gives impressions and pectations, open and free, ready for an experience. sometimes details, accented by opera glasses, making a strange montage. Some like it close, some like it You can't blink your eyes at a dance performance with­ far — each person has his own notion of "the best seat out missing a fleeting moment of this visual time art. in the house." How different it is from most of the other arts. One might be distracted at an opera or drama, or concert, The horseshoe dress circle is fine if you are opposite by a late-comer temporarily shutting off one's view. the stage. One has only a Degas view if one is at Except for the annoyance, this doesn't always destroy either end of the curve.. And if this is also a bird's- the experience. In dance, however, it is as if a shutter eye angle, above inthe "peasant circle," one becomes were put in front of your eyes, breaking the tie of the convinced the Degas-view is not enough. kinesthetic continuum.

Nik Krevitsky, artist and critic, former member of the Editorial Board of DANCE OBSERVER, is at pre­ sent Director of Art in the Public Schools, Tucson, Arizona. 32 The Second Person JAMES MOFFETT

In mechanical communication we speak of transmitter there is the fourth-wall-removed kind of play with a and receiver. In grammar we speak of first person closed-circuit communication system onstage, sym­ and second person. I speak to you, I address you, I bolized by the proscenium arch that disjoins performer transmit to you. But wrist radios and human beings and beholder. This "objective" and voyeuristic posi­ are apparatuses built both to transmit and to receive. tion of the audience suggests to me the nineteenth- That is, every I is a you, and every you an I. The century attitude in science that the observer somehow distinction between them is relative — indicates the stood outside the system he was observing. The effect direction of communication energy, the vector, at a of such a tradition on the performer is to hold at a particular time. When the listener responds to the minimum feedback and other stimuli emanating from speaker, first and second person reverse. This re­ the audience. To acknowledge an audience is to risk versing of the vector is two-way communication. playing to it, and to play to it is to risk being influenced What, then, is the relation of a performer to his by its feedback rather than that of other performers; audience? to play off its feedback is to risk doing something un­ planned and hence causing fellow-performers to do One is tempted to answer this question right off by something unplanned. Performers play off against saying that the performer isI, the audience you, and each other and the audience looks on. Of course this the vector is irreversible. But this doesn't allow for disjunction of the two could never be absolute, but it the artifice in communication through art nor for the can be confusing. In lieu of other performers the sometimes complicated interplay of this artifice with soloist can often hardly fail to acknowledge and play everyday communication. Suppose Mary says to to the audience, although pantomimists and frequently Louise, "I like your hat." Clearly Louise is the you, dancers too perform as if unwatched, just like a realis­ the receiver. Suppose, however, that while talking to tic actor temporarily alone onstage. Moreover, the Louise, Mary observes Agnes passing by within ear­ whole illusion is allowed to be broken, by conventional shot wearing a tight sheath dress. Mary says idly, "I assent, in the form of stereotyped feedback such as think sheath dresses are wonderful, don't you — if you applause and bravos. Except when the audience re­ have the right kind of figure." Ostensibly Mary is still fuses to play the game, however, these expressions of addressing Louise, but the true you is Agnes. We reactive feeling come only at stipulated terminal call this talking for someone else's benefit. To be places — the end of an act or concerto, or when the most accurate, perhaps we should say that Mary is ballerina is held aloft by her partner in a pretty, transmitting to two receivers but that one of these climactic pose. Spectators are permitted to laugh, receivers is of a different order than the other: Mary snuffle, wheeze, creak, and rustle. You is there, plays off communicatively with Louise but is ultimately all right, and I'm sure few performers forget him. sending her message to Agnes; or at any rate the same But essentially they rely on kinesthetic feedback from words constitute a different message for Louise than their own nervous system and on "loop" feedback they do for Agnes. Mary's artifice is the one we are from the immediate external environment of the other familiar with in performances of the nineteenth-cen­ performers. tury tradition that is still the prevailing one today. The performers in ballet, opera, symphony, and realistic We have only to take a long-range look at the perform­ drama have always played to each other, essentially. ing arts to realize how recent and parochial this tra­ That is, except sometimes when soloing, actor speaks dition is. At its ritualistic genesis, drama, dance, to actor, oboe plays to violin, singer sings to singer, and music (not then separated) were performed by and dancer moves in relation to dancer. The nature the whole community for a vitally serious communal of planned performance requires extreme attention function—bringing rain, exorcising spirits, or arous­ to what each other is doing. In fact, playing to the ing themselves to kill or copulate. Only after the audience in any way is usually considered by fellow- specialization of skills, apparently, and after the performers as egotistical betrayal. In the main, this literal function evolved into the less serious mimetic tradition requires the performer to play for the audi­ function did the separation occur between performer ence, not to it. and audience. And later, during the periods of mimes, troubadours, commedia dell'arte, and court masques, The model for this pretense that the audience is not we may be sure that performers played within more James Moffett is an Instructor of English at Phillips Exeter Academy, Exeter, New Hampshire. He has contributed articles and stories to NEW WORLD WRITrNG and ETC. He is currently doing research in the application of communication theory. 33

than earshot of the audience and played for more than address it, surround it physically, and move in and out its benefit. They acknowledged it and played to it, of it. Audience participation is feigned by deploying sometimes quite personally. In drama the Greek "plants." All these recent efforts acknowledge and ex­ choral odes, Elizabethan apron stage soliloquies, and ploit the real-life relation of performer to audience; Restoration "asides" present a graduated recession of they break down the old illusion that the performers the direct I-you relation. Interestingly enough, to the were only playing to each other. This represents some extent that the performance was felt inthe past to be a kind of movement back toward the performance as a real-life activity, the pretense of there being no au­ communal function in itself that does not need to pre­ dience was not necessary; but to the extent that per­ tend to be real. But even the most daring of these plays formance has become a highly perfected and artificial have stopped short of making the I-you relation two- mimesis, it has needed to pretend that what was hap­ way by reversing the vector. The audience participates pening onstage was the real thing. It is difficult to only in the limited sense that when it is played to in the speak of early music and dance apart from drama, but greater intimacy of small theaters-in-the-round, it as they moved out of the eighteenth-century drawing- feeds back more to the performers than in its more room and court into the large nineteenth-century con­ traditional role as voyeur. But playing to instead of cert hall, they too developed a for instead of a to re­ for an audience is not new and is still by far predomi­ lation to the audience. nantly one-way transmission. The point at which in­ volvement becomes participation has not been reached Under the tradition of theater and concert hall, how­ in the dramatic theater. ever, there thrived still the older folk tradition of direct address and audience participation. I am think­ Two shows I have seen this year push this point farther ing of the folk art of our urban civilization — jazz, and maybe illustrative of similar endeavors going on vaudeville, and night club acts, which have ended by over the country. They are THE FIVE-LEGGED influencing a great deal the "serious" artistic per­ STOOL (Dancers Workshop Company directed by Ann formance . Jazz was nourished in the intimacy of bar Halprin), and THE EVENT (R.G. Davis Mime Troupe). and bistro, where proximity of performers and au­ "The Five-Legged Stool" evolved from "The Four- dience was close and where alcohol inhibited inhibi­ Legged Stool," the audience being, as I understand, the tions. Customers danced tothe music, sang to it, re­ fifth leg. Both productions work for a maximum in­ quested their favorite numbers, and spurred the volvement of the audience short of actual participation. musicians by calling to them and clapping or stomping Players may move among the audience, address it, to the beat; visiting musicians "set in" with the band take flash photos of it, and surround it with lighting and for the fun of it. The bended knee and out-stretched sound. (Notice the similar effort in the cinema to arms of AUolson, and his effort to reach the audience encompass the audience with cineramic screen and by building a runway out into it, typify the zeal of those stereophonic sound.) During the climax of "The Five- old troupers to play to you even after the travelling Legged Stool" a chorus of "plants" scattered among minstrel show had gone on the big-theater circuits. the audience begins singing an old hymn and the audi­ The burlesque dancer threw her garters to the front ence spontaneously joins in with stunning effect. This rows and can-canned in your face. The chanteuse sang kind of involvement is obviously something different her torch song among the tables, sat down and embar­ from the familiar emotional involvement whereby the rassed the patron by directing her seduction personally audience identifies with the performers and projects to him. Night-club comedians ad-libbed about people itself into the content of what it is beholding. "The in the audience and responded to cracks from the Five-Legged Stool" and "The Event" aim to increase crowd. emotional involvement by arousing not only the imag­ ination of the audience but also its sensory and motor The recent return to the I-you relation was signalled apparatus. The reader of a novel identifies and pro­ in drama by Pirandello and Thornton Wilder and de­ jects imaginatively; this is essentially cortical ac­ veloped by Brecht, Genet, and the theater of the ab­ tivity. But the more audience involvement approaches surd generally, the most conspicuous recent example participation, the more other neural activities come of it being Gelber's THE CONNECTION. A chorus re­ into play. In other words, an audience is always doing appears inthe form of an emcee-narrator in Wilder's something; what we mean by participation is simply OUR TOWN and Brecht's THE CAUCASIAN CHALK that he is doing something others can see or hear: that CIRCLE; although the other actors continue to perform is, he is behaving. for the audience as if it were not there, the narrator talks to the audience about what the characters are The next step beyond these two productions seems to doing. In this new theater the stage is frequently ad­ have been reached by the New York "happenings," mitted to be a stage, the players, players, and the which I have not seen and will have to talk about on the audience an audience. Actors allude to the audience, basis of second-hand knowledge. The additional neural 34

activity that comes into play among the audience of a him want to transact with all others present. "happening" is locomotion. The audience walks about among some "scenes" and "props" while actions are But how could we still speak of a performance if every­ going on all around them. Some of these they may in­ body were to become a performer? Wouldn't we simply fluence since a lot is left to chance. Not only is the have a group of people convening to play together? performer no longer required to stay on-stage, the Carried to an extreme, we would. We find such con­ audience is no longer immobilized in a certain area. vening inthe form of workshops and even to a degree With both spatially free, their relation is bound to be­ in what we still think of as "public" performances. come less specified and anything can happen. Performers and audience always select each other. This is always true but less evident when the perform­ The Dancers Workshop Company has been exper- ance is traditional and popular than when it is "far- menting with outdoor performances similar to the out." Frequently the people who attend a "far-out" "happenings." Like the latter, these experiments are dance-drama performance are themselves off-duty pre-composed only to this extent: suggestive props dancers and actors or people who work on the fringe and settings are arranged, usually in such a way as of the arts or who are in any case spiritual cousins to increase ratherthan limit the possibilities of what drawn to the show for many of the same reasons the could go on; and the performers work out in advance performer is doing the show. Osmosis is at work a rough sketch of what they will do. But what a given here. Whenever I attend such a performance I am im­ member of the audience will see during a performance pressed by how the performers and the audience re­ will depend on which way he walks through the woods. semble each other, in the way that husbands and wives In such a situation the "performance" will be a unique are said to grow more alike. series of encounters — parts of this or that activity seen from this or that vantage point. The beholder If we imagine a graduated scale that begins with the becomes composer to the extent that his own move­ complete insulation of performers from audience, ments edit a continuity out of the several things going moves through degrees of increasing acknowledgment on at different places in the general setting of the and involvement of the audience, to finally full audi­ woods. Also, the performers are open to stimuli and ence participation, we would be tracing several simul­ feedback that he provides, so that some of what they taneous progressions. The performer-audience re­ do is influenced by what he does. Inasmuch as he may lation would shift from for to to to with, signalling a have a hand in what they do he is becoming performer, gradual break-down of the distinction between the two. and the spirit of the whole venture might easily move Put another way, this amounts to going from (feigned) him actually to join in an activity he sees. non-communication to acknowledged one-way com­ munication to a truly two-way communication — the Since an ambulatory audience will see and hear per­ birth of I and you and then their slow reversal. The formers ' actions in utterly private ways, it follows drama of involvement among performers would give that the experience the performers can provide for the way to the drama of involvement with audience, which audience will be as well served by improvising as by is to say that both the arena of action and the system of composing and rehearsing — given, however, that the communication expand. Most of all, artifice gives way performers have on tap a rich repertory of movement to actuality. Art disintegrates into life. with perhaps some previous experience with each other and some unanimity about props. My point is simply Let's say that ballet, symphony concerts, and realistic that the greater the mobility and/or participation of drama stand near the head of this imaginary scale and the audience, the more natural the tendency for the jam sessions, square dancing, and community sings at performer to improvise. Not only is strict selecting the other end. The latter represent a levelling or and ordering of activities rendered futile by the fact equality among the people present, all of whom, we'll that the members of the audience are selecting and say, are participating. Do we consider the parti­ ordering in their own way as they move, but also the cipators a skilled public or a mediocre mob of per­ increased stimulation and feedback from the audience formers? Leaving this question for the moment, we becomes more unpredictable and influential. This have to admit that something is wrong with this scale; relation has enough necessity to prompt me to state the participants in a jam session do not know what they this as a law: the more the audience participates, the are going to do, whereas square dancers and com­ more the performer improvises. The converse of munity singers follow prescription and pretty much all this — that the more the performer improvises the do the same thing. So we must cross the scale above more the audience participates— is less clearly neces­ by another scale —add another dimension, if you like. sary but nevertheless strongly operant, I feel. Per­ This dimension is cultural, and the scale is from haps the same attitudes and the same impulse that homogeneity and stereotype to heterogeneity and spon­ make the performer want to extemporize also make taneity . The more the culture is stereotyped the more 35 audience participation results in something like tribal tween performer and audience, improvisation tends ritual passed down unvaryingly from generation to to obliterate the distinction between performer and generation. The more the culture is in flux the more composer. It has often been observed that a lot of audience participation results in unpredictable per­ the plays of recent decades leave more room for in­ formance. dividual creativity of actor and director. This is due partly to increased use of non-verbal activity that In America, for example, ethnic pockets still make cannot be written into the script and partly tothe de­ folk dancing possible; just as the common heritage of, parture from the stereotyped shorthand of movement and response to, old songs popularized on mass media and gesture that actors used to learn more or less by make the Mitch Miller community sing a great success. rote just as the ballet dancer drilled in the imperso­ On the other hand, America as the classless, fluid nal techniques of stylized movement. The advent of melting pot continually experimenting and searching modern dance and non-realistic theater freed the per­ for new values has come up with improvisational jazz former somewhat from the autocratic authority of and "far-out" dance-drama. Depending on whether choreographer and playwright. Among great perform­ we try to foster what remains of old commonalities of ers individual self-expression was always possible, feeling and behavior, or whether we try to make of I'm sure, but more as interpreter than composer. heterogeneity itself a new commonality, transaction Collaboration has become more the order of the day, between performer and audience leads to prescription and the performer has more to say about what he is to or improvisation. do as well as how he is to do it. In fact, inthe work­ shop type of troupe the performance is likely to be At the risk of brashness, for the sake of whatever simply a public presentation of the performers' col­ value there is analogizing at a rather high level of lective composition. "The Five-Legged Stool" and generalization, I would like to submit that a strong "The Event"began in improvisation, became more or trend in scientific and philosophical thought of recent less fixed before performance, evolved somewhat in years is being enacted in the performing arts by the the course of many performances by a process of in­ heterogenous and spontaneous wing of our culture. corporating both onstage and offstage improvisations, In two words this trend is toward transaction and and always contained in a given performance some improvisation. moments of spontaneous invention. Since the amount of improvisation is even greater inthe "happenings," I assume that whatever composing is done is done by Whereas the traditional performer was concerned the performers themselves. with what is called homeostatic feedback — that is, feedback which tells him how far off-course his per­ formance may be going and allows him to correct it After the disappearance of the non-performing com­ according to pre-established goals — the improvisa­ poser, the next issue is whether the performer tory performer uses feedback as suggestion for things composes during or before the performance. If dur­ to do which he had not planned. Reciprocal feedback ing, we call this improvisation. But since both becomes virtually identical with transaction or two- composition and improvisation are recombining of way communication. What A does influences what B the person's past experience, the difference is only does; in reflecting A's performance back to him, B relative and can be put in terms of slower and faster influences in turn A's next behavior. When A and feedback. One performer plans what he will do, per­ B are performers who have rehearsed together, un­ forms it, absorbs his and others' reactions to what he expected feedback is relatively rare and will be has done, and incorporates this experience into the welcomed only if performers feel that some spon­ planning of what he will do for his next performance taneity may enhance the pre-established goals. If several months or years later. Another performer performers are using collective representations of extemporizes during performance from a minimal gesture, sound, speech, and lighting that play a game situation, tunes in to ongoing cues from within and of stimulus and response, even audience feedback can without, lets himself react to them immediately, and be only rarely unexpected. If, on the other hand, the produces a spontaneous recombination of his past ex­ performers are improvising, it seems to workout that perience. The process is essentially the same but not only is the feedback of fellow performers less pre­ looks very different in the two cases because the time dictable but so is that also of the audience. Spontaneity lag in the first is so much longer than in the second. in some generates spontaneity in others, especially Indeed, the time lag entails a difference in which if their relation is direct. If the performer allows neural activities are most engaged: long-range feed­ essentially unpredictable feedback to influence him, back places greater emphasis on such cortical activi­ he can hardly maintain the homeostasis of a pre­ ties as "reflection," whereas ongoing feedback calls arranged performance. for more kinesthetic activity. Hence the dissimilarity of the results. As transaction tends to obliterate the distinction be­ 36

The trend toward transaction and improvisation that past. A tremendous amount of research and talkabout is being enacted by a minority in the arts is being creativity has focussed attention on spontaneity — the thought about quite a lot by what is not always a mi­ need for it, how it can be achieved, etc. In fact, I nority of scientists, philosophers, educators, and get the impression that a creative activity or creative therapists. Let'stake transaction first. The voyeur­ education would be those where spontaneity, flexi­ istic physicist peering through a hole into a system bility, and adaptability were highest and conform­ with which he was not engaged has been replaced by ity to past categories was lowest. It is easy to see how a physicist who knows he is a part of the system he is this could be true, for the gains of the past are never observing. As Einstein said, "The observer is the lost to us: the problem is more likely to be to keep past essence of the situation." In biology the old dichotomy patterns from dominating exclusively. The following of organism and environment has been admitted to be statement fromNorbert Wiener summarizes the trend a dangerous verbal convenience, so great is the trans­ I am trying very sketchily to describe: "I think that action between the two. Although still enjoying strong Ashby's brilliant idea of the unpurposeful random support, stimulus-response psychology is seldom mechanism which seeks for its own purpose through considered any more as adequate alone to account for a process of learning ... is one of the great philo­ human behavior; itis a psychology of a passive organ­ sophical contributions of the present day . . . . " ism being stimulated by an active environment, of one-way transmission. "Transactional psychology," What I am calling transaction and Improvisation have viewing man as understandable only when seen in inter­ been called by others meeting and becoming. For the action with all his contexts, is coming into a dominant performing artist of today who is exploring what he position. More and more the psychotherapist is de­ wants to do, the main issue may very well be: "If I scending from his aloof authoritarianism and "meet­ play with the audience and I play spontaneously, then ing" (as Martin Buber says) his patient on a basis of how am I still a performer and where is my art?" If personal involvement. This relation may be matched my scale is correct in equating the movement toward presently in pedagogy by a movement toward student- transaction and improvisation with movement from centered teaching, independent study, and creative art to life, the destruction of art would seem to follow collaboration between teacher and student — all of from this trend. The idea of a kind of art that works which convert the student from audience to performer. toward its own elimination may seem horrendous, but The keynote for these parallel trends is sounded in it is the behavior of many artists themselves that has "field theory" — the premise that the whole of a field raised the issue. I am thinking not only of avant-garde is dynamically interrelated and that anything happening tendencies in drama, dance and music but also of the in one part affects what happens in other parts. One­ anti-novel and the "difficult "painting that requires the way transmission assumes a favored starting point, beholder to all but paint it himself in order to enter vantage point, or initial mover — the premise of I_. into it. Certainly for some time all the arts have been demanding more and more of the audience. In litera­ As for improvisation — in physics the Newtonian view ture this works out as "leaving a lot to the reader," of a closed-system pre-determined universe running and the whole outraged reaction to "obscurity" in on inthe future as it has run in the past has been re­ music, writing, and dance has been over the artist's placed by a probabilistic view of a contingent, unde­ alleged loss of touch with the public, his non-objec­ termined universe. The physical world is not some­ tivity . Looked at another way, the issue is the reverse: thing that has been composed in advance and only re­ the artist is asking for the public to share more, to quires to be performed as planned. If this thesis is help him complete his work, to experience what he has held in physics one can well imagine that it is held in experienced. This is audience participation. But in biology and psychology. Neither a species, in evolu­ order to participate the public must meet the artist tion, nor a cell, in embryology, is destined for a cer­ halfway. And often in order to meet him he must be tain role or end or function. Any kind of specific tele­ or become a musician, painter, writer, or dancer, ology or fate or determinism is out. Evolution is "a at least in some measure. pattern of residual randomness." What a cell or or­ ganism becomes is a matter of ongoing transaction Somewhere between the perfected, insulated ballet and with its medium, predictable only in a limited way the whirling kermess there lies a frontier beyond which under certain circumstances. Nature improvises. the negative entropy of artistic performance topples This attitude of open possibilities seems to be domi­ and blurs into the (relatively) entropic randomness of nant now in psychology and psychotherapy. The Freud­ life. Transacting and improvising, meeting and be­ ian sense of a dark fate has faded: focus in therapy is coming, are wonderful models for real-life behavior shifting from "what happened to me then" to "what I and for a kind of education that would prepare for such am doing and may do now." Zen and Existentialism behavior. What is death for the performance could be emphasize authentic relating to the here-now —a kind the birth of a truly creative education, or the re-birth of playing life by ear instead of perceiving and acting of that long lost and secretly grieved-for something — according to rational categories inherited from the communal celebration. 37

The Five-Legged Stool

On consecutive Monday evenings from late April through May of this year, Ann Halprin presented THE FIVE - LEGGED STOOL at the PLAYHOUSE REPERTORY THEATER in San Francisco. This work represents a development of last season's FOUR-LEGGED STOOL. Called "a happening," THE FIVE- LEGGED STOOL, like its predecessor, employs the many resources of the theatre medium — movement, sound, costume, light, properties — in unusual and unpredictable ways. The performers aim to involve the audience members completely at all times. IMPULSE presents here the "Before and After" of this situation. First, Lawrence Halprin, nationally known landscape architect and husband of the choreographer, discusses some aspects of his wife's work and relates it to general trends in modern art. Then, excerpts from critical reviews following the performance indicate the range and types of reaction it elicited.

A DISCUSSION by LAWRENCE HALPRIN

Today's performing artist profoundly wants a part­ She is making theater out of physical images in ordi­ nership which will involve the audience as much as nary life, of simple occurrences and the most deeply himself. To do this he has had to go back to some of rooted relationships between people. But these are the fundamental principles of his art — back to its understood in her theater to be of importance for them­ basic, ritualistic beginnings when men were simpler selves; not because they establish moral issues or tell and art was only a sharpened expression of life. It stories, not because they entertain or divert, but be­ was then, as it is attempting once again to become, cause of their universality, which can involve her au­ an event of supreme importance; involving people in diences. She wants most, I think, to create an envi­ its space and the very imagery of the performance it­ ronment — a landscape, if you will, within which both self. As Artaud has said: "In the Balinese theater audience and performers are part of the cast and the there is something which has nothing to do with enter­ events are common to them both. tainment — it takes shape at the very heart of the mat­ ter, life, reality." How to do this is more difficult. On the part of the dancer there is the discipline of finding profound mean­ Today's artist wants most to speak to people in a lan­ ing in simple things and of extracting essences. One guage which they can understand through all their has to begin to think of words as evocative sounds and senses —to touch them in all the facets of their lives not only for their literary associations, of music as and evoke direct responses freed of conditioned habits rhythms and silences as well as noises. One needs to and preconceived notions of "human interest" situa­ make the form of theater evolve in a free way from the tions. He wants to stir them, interest them, excite very materials of its composition and think of theater them, involve them through sounds which are not only spaces as alive and useful and all-pervasive — not as words; through spaces not confined to existing stages, the traditional box of the proscenium arch hemmed in through movement, light, and objects which become a by curtains and stages separating performer from au­ fusion of all the arts. dience .

This is rather a large order but an exciting one both On the part of the audience, this theater is just as de­ for performers and audience. We are at an exciting manding in its own way. It requires first of all an time inhuman affairs when all the world is opening up eagerness to participate — not just to sit back and be to new ideas of form, of materials, of attitudes of liv­ passively entertained. More than this, it requires — ing and to art as an echo of this excitement. even demands —an understanding of theater as an ac­ tivity of the senses, a non-verbalized event speaking Ann Halprin, through her dance theater, is attempting of poetic images and feelings rather than of logic in to explore many of these new directions in art which any factual way. It is meaningful but it may have no can have so many things for audiences in our time. literal meaning. from THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CHRONICLE, April 29, 1962. 38

Ann Halprin has broken down the line of demarkation CHRONICLE Alfred Frankenstein was, as usual, between dance and theater and fused them into an all- sober and thoughtful. inclusive art which uses all the resources of the per­ formers' ability — dance, voice, music, light, arch­ "Whether out of ordinary life or not, there is much itectural space and color. Rather than work from a set that is moving in "The Five-Legged Stool". score or from a pre-established script, she starts from situations which evoke responses from the per­ "The work is composed in such a fashion that it formers . As these interactions are developed they are is never twice the same . . . but there is bound refined and intensified and synthesized by constant ex­ tobe a great deal of similarity from performance periment and development into a final evolving form, to performance so far as the general effect is dependent in large measure on the mutual collaboration concerned". of all the performers including musicians, painters, dancers etc. This form is multifocal and mobile, not "Itis a dance-theater piece that uses all the avail­ fixed. It develops through a series of overlapping able space, onstage, backstage, inthe auditorium, images which fuse and interact and seldom resolve and everywhere else. Part of the time it involves themselves. It is, in fact, a form singularly appro­ action in a tightly packed, winkingly illuminated priate to the attitudes of our time. labyrinth, part of the time on aflat, shiny surface covered with bottles; and Miss Halprin's efforts What evolves through this method is, in fact, a com­ to convey these bottles to the disembodied hand plex event created through a developing and open-ended that descends from the ceiling provides the piece artistic process whose natural habitat is the theater with one of its moments of high pathos". and which can only be completed by the act of per­ formance with an audience as part of the occurrence. "Its repetitiousness is frequently irritating; on the other hand, the pure tragedy is often breath­ taking ly apparent, and A.A.Leath's descent from heaven is uniquely an act of disembodied heroism ".

FROM SAN FRANCISCO CRITICS "The final episode of the piece, wherein, to the sound of silence, feathers drop from the ceiling PROGRESS Robert Krauskopf saw lots of symbolism to the floor of the stage, is worth the price of and had mixed reactions. admission in itself. Each one of those feathers has a personality all its own. This, I suspect, "The action, which has by intention no concrete we should not see if our sensibilities had not been meaning, nevertheless reminded me of a typical sharpened by watching the rest of the "Five- American family — completely dominated by Legged Stool". mother — getting up in the morning. There was Ann, the harried mother, wandering about the stage and the audience doing all sorts of chores CONTACT Sidney Peterson presents his unique like picking up father's liquor bottles until she point of view. fell in exhaustion. In the bathroom for 30 min­ utes putting on a gorgeous black wig, was big sis­ "My. . . feeling is that there was, in 1945, a mood ter, Lynne Palmer. Little brother, A.A.Leath, of disengagement, so to say, which made possible spent his time trying to upset everyone by rolling a certain kind of laughter, having its origin in an a bicycle wheel across the stage. And poor father, indomitable sense of blague dating back to the John Graham, was so hen-pecked that when he mining camp days. Obviously the young men of the wasn't carrying mother on his back, he was eighteen fifties and sixties had it. Isadora had it. swinging from the ceiling. Saroyan had it. Still has it. Ginsberg has it. I think Ann Halprin has it, along with the others And almost nowhere inthe entire scene was there whose production of "The Five-Legged Stool" has any real human contact between the family mem­ recently delighted some and outraged others. Yes, bers. "The Five-Legged Stool" is a legitimately Fran­ ciscan piece, nine parts blague and one part Well, maybe "The Five-Legged Stool" is a picture genius. The level of skill is high, the taste im­ of life in America and maybe it's something else peccable and, as one critic has pointed out, where entirely. But as a live, exciting, stimulating else can you see a tense dance-drama in which a theater experience, Ann's creation does succeed whole act is devoted to putting down and picking ... in part". up 45 empty bottles? " 39

EXAMINER Kenneth Rexroth didn't think it funny evasion of the demands of creativity... " at all. "By the way, this was all accompanied by a "What a caper . . . This is Anti-Dance, as the Morton Subotnick score. Some of it was straight 'theatre cruel' of Beckett or Genet is anti-drama". music played backward, and all of it was pain­ fully dull." "It is a grimly moving experience because it com­ pletely meets the demands of its own special taste and skill. The trouble with most apostles of alien­ ation is that they aren't very good artists. Ann Halprin certainly is, and so is Jo Landor, who did the sets, and Morton Subotnick who did the music ". EXAMINER Stanley Eichelbaum also saw a kind of circus, but he thought it hilarious.

". . .Miss Halprin has lightened the work with some deliciously batty satire. NEWS-CALL BULLETIN Jack Loughner didn't see the symbolism: Inthe manner of Ionesco or those early Dada films, he saw a circus and hated it. she has pulled out all the stops against a fabulous expressionist setting that has been decked out with "Actually, Miss Halprin's "Five-Legged Stool" a jungle of curious and trick lights by Jo Landor is a bit that would be hilarious if it had been done and Patrick Hickey. The stage looked a bit as by Olson and Johnson. It has most of the Olson though Jackson Pollock had been let loose in a and Johnson formula. The stooges in the audi­ New Orleans brothel." ence. The bland female who primps herself, as the audience sees through a tall oval aperture, "The chief virtue of "The Five-Legged Stool" is for most of the show and then joins the audience its wonderful element of surprise, its ability to . . . odd noises . . . stooges who babble gibberish evoke countless comic images in the same unfet­ . . . characters who stomp up and down the center tered illogical way that circus clowns do. . . aisle. . ." I felt that Miss Halprin still does too much ar­ "... this sort of thing is not creative; it is an ranging of empty wine bottles. . . "

"Susanne Langer speaks of the education of the audience as an important ingredient of its responsiveness. Its ability to perceive 'at once'the organic form of the work as a whole and its obligation to meet the artist half­ way is a natural gift which can be heightened by experience or reduced by adverse agencies. 'The free exer­ cise of artistic intuition often depends on clearing the mind of intellectual prejudices and false conceptions that inhibit people's natural responsiveness'. She cautions us 'to stop worrying about understanding the artist' or 'getting his message' and making judgments, but rather to enter into the feeling that the work portrays. " from "A View from the Audience"(IMPULSE 1961) ELIZABETH ROSEN

"To enjoy it, (the dance), the trained eye of a connoisseur of painting or the trained ear of a music lover are not needed. Any human being who is willing to give it his attention should be enlivened by dance. " from MODERN DANCE FORMS (Impulse Publications, 1961) LOUIS HORST

"The only audience worth considering is the man who actively listens — not the one who passively hears. Music, tobe appreciated, involves the full attention of the audience. The performer and the listener each has responsibilities: the performer to make the music live; the listener, to concentrate within the limits of his knowledge and to exert 'a modicum of effort'. But the passive hearers cannot be.. .ignored. Not only must we resign ourselves to his presence in the audience.. .but we must also recognize, that he has an influence on the taste of the time. The remark'I know whit I like'often is only a cover-up for'I like what I know'and out of this passivity comes intolerance. " JOSEPH SZIGETI 40 The Gift

THE GIFT has been described by its author, Kenneth S. Krauskopf in the San Francisco Progress). Dewey as "... a play, a dance, and a game." In its rejection of any kind of "purity" in its medium, "The "A play, a dance, and a game" — a performance of Gift" has been related to "The Art of Assemblage" "The Gift" is designed to encircle and ensnare the (Alfred Frankenstein in the San Francisco Chronicle audience." (Krauskopf) "All the movements and of March 18, 1962). It has been said that the dialogue sounds are introduced as theatrical ingredients for the "more closely resembles a musical score than any­ viewer to do with as he likes." (Mander) The play thing else" and that the specific action between the has been presented under numerous and varied cir­ two performers "has little rational foundation" (Jerry cumstances — on an outdoor stage high in the Marin Mander in the San Francisco Chronicle of March 4, Hills, in a massive auditorium, on a golf green, in 1962). The manner of presentation of "The Gift" has a church, in a courtyard, in Union Square in San been compared with European street life: "One of the Francisco, etc. The audiences were as varied as the pleasures of London and other cities is the troupes of performing places, and their reactions covered an jugglers and singers and organ grinders that suddenly equally wide range. "Although 'The Gift' has no con­ appear in the middle of streets and stop traffic while crete meaning and no specific story to tell, somehow hundreds of people stand around and watch." (Robert every person who sees it finds in it a meaning all his

Performance of THE GIFT in Union Square, San Francisco, 1962 John Graham, "George, the Sign Man" and Lynne Palmer 41 own." (Krauskopf) On the other hand, I felt that there was: too much repetition (the work was too long for im­ Newspaper accounts of "The Gift" stressed the im­ provisation or for the limited number of ideas portance of the audience — its responses, its actions, presented. Perhaps the developments lacked its willingness to become participant in this event. sufficient variation) In fact, the interaction of performers and audience a lack of kinesthetic communication has been indicated as basic to the very existence at the work itself and as a determining factor in the shape of the piece. Robert Krauskopf described "The Gift" RHODA KELLOGG, author and teacher particularly as: "... a drama actually created out of space and concerned with biology of child art, showed special time alone — in which the performers and the audience, interest in the "meaning" of the sequence and related using only the barest of props and any site, together her comments on the medium to the way in which the create the play afresh each performance." performers employed sound, movement, costume and gesture to communicate ideas with artistry and dis­ crimination. Since an audience is, in reality, a collection of indi­ viduals, the "audience reaction" must represent the I attended the performance of THE GIFT in the sum total of individual responses, which may well vary courtyard of the Mission Neighborhood Center at widely from person to person. It would seem that, in the request of an interested friend, and found my­ the case of a work such as "The Gift," where audience self in none too cooperative a mood as I wrapped a reaction is considered by the author as particularly blanket about my knees, tried to ignore the flood important, individual responses might be of special light in my eyes, and sat wondering how the pro­ interest. Therefore, in order to assess some of the posed performance was to be taken very seriously. components of the audience reaction, IMPULSE asked First of all I was struck with John Graham's im­ several people of varying backgrounds, professions pressive height as he stood six feet away from me. and interests to attend a performance of "The Gift" Next I enjoyed the costume bit by Lynne Palmer, and write of their reactions to it. These accounts, as she placed the garments symbolic of feminine which follow, reflect the individual characteristics of finery over her jodphurs, leaving her sneakers the people who wrote them and cover a wide range — well in view. This was done with significant ges­ from a concentration upon the work itself, its mat- tures worth watching. As the dance proceeded, rials and procedures, to a correlation of "The Gift" I found myself completely fascinated and admiring with other art forms and other periods, and even to a of the body skills involved, and the symbolism of realization of "The Gift" as a key to a deeper under­ the words and gestures. The performance had standing of life itself. suspense for me and was profoundly meaningful as representing the neurotic-psychotic aspects of the boy-meets-girl theme. Whether or not this was the author's intention I do not know, but what I saw was a positive statement of a negative theme which made the dance a work of art. Lynne LILLY JAFFE — art curator — was almost completely Palmer's voice was exceptionally good inthe part, concerned with the nature of the medium employed by and the choreography was very sensitive. Though these two performers—the elements of movement and the dance presented sick persons in a sick world, sound, shape and space, sequence and form. That her there was no effort to make it sensational, nor a responses to THE GIFT were "mixed" is reflected in scene for the audience to patronize. I am writing the manner in which she set down her remarks. this two weeks after the performance and it is still vivid in my mind. I was interested in: the casual beginning (the dancers'wandering into the courtyard carrying props, creating move­ ment in the process) MURRAY GITLIN, author of THE EMBARKATION and the use of sound, not music, as an element (the ALL THE VOICES, recognized THE GIFT as a dance woman's voice as a fascinating irritant) form in the light of the multi-faceted nature of the the penetration of space (surrounding the court­ other arts: yard and the audience) the creation of many constantly changing tortuous As the novelist uses the Word of Power, and shapes (the dancer who is engulfed in a huge the painter his Colors of Vision, so the dancer piece of dark velvet) the Body as Symbol. THE GIFT succeeds with those slow-moving distortions of hallucinations eloquence and dramatic intensity when in one of (surreal, at times both humorous and fright­ the unforgettable sequences two bodies —male and ening) female from time immemorial —slither, writhe, 42

unite, disunite, in love and anti-love, in need SIDNEY PETERSON, film maker and author of THE and necessity, in literal transcription and sym­ FLY IN THE PIGMENT, prefaced his essay "Pas de bolically. It fails when it turns to gimmicks, Deux" with a letter to the editor of IMPULSE: cliches, those idiosyncratic asides so beloved by "modernists." What I am not saying is that I Dear Marian: would have the Dance stick to the Dance. Does Here is my reaction. I think it represents the perverse the painter paint only with colors? Is the novelist tendency of some audience members to intellectualize only a story teller, or also a philosopher? Isn't no matter what. If there is a principle involved it is, I the choreographer a poet and the poet a choreo­ think, the refusal to be bored at all costs, even at the grapher? I applaud the free-surging style of the cost of a lack of proper humility in the presence of piece, its rhythms, ideas, its attempts "to break art. It is really terribly difficult to play around with through. " So I hope — because it has that im­ the meaning of something that is usually what almost portance — that it will be re-done someday, the anything means isn't it? I did enjoy the occasion and dross and fluff and attention-getting devices setting down my reaction and the charade idea led me eliminated. back to VANITY FAIR and so now I am enjoying that too. In short, what joy! I am properly grateful.

HELEN BURKE is a sculptress. Her reaction was not stated in terms of either the medium or the message, but rather as the value of THE GIFT in the total ex­ ttiy perience of the person. 7^

THE GIFT is powerful because it is movement. Movement is powerful because it is life, whether we find it in a quiet stone, the energy of living PAS DE DEUX things, or in empty space. If one is to under­ Sidney Peterson stand that all life-motion does have a life and energy of its own no matter how fragile it begins It is now almost thirty years since Dali issued his or remains, and can accept whatever it becomes paranoiac-critical manifesto on the Conquest of the — that this life has nobility and is meaningful, Irrational and pointed to the need forgiving objective then one is able to approach the depth and scope value to the delirious and the irrational in works that of rich experience. would go beyond the "sanguinary osmoses"and "cata­ strophic wounds" of an earlier period andembracethe Now and then it does happen that all the elements obsessing idea. Since then, Dali has become one of his set in motion in a work can be allowed to come own double figurations and the spotlight has shifted together in such a way that a strong new life is back to the scrap pile, from which ideas arise in the born. This magic that we cannot always explain forms of crushed Buicks, oil filter enigmas, satirical or talk about or analyze seems sometimes to be slot machines and, most recently, a performer whose simply the way it happened. Nothing meaningful heavy white leotard recalls the padding of Old Comedy ever just happens. True poetry springs from all (Greek) while a scarf (nylon), wound casually between time, all place, past and future, together with the her legs and around her neck, invokes memories of miracle and mystery of the unknown. It demands the wardrobe of Loie Fuller and the death of Isadora an amazing lack of ignorance. Duncan, at least.

In the hearts and souls of poets skilled through This is not to say that THE GIFT, a work written and their own experience in courage and freedom, it directed by Kenneth Dewey and performed by Lynne is to know that meaningful experiences are not Palmer and John Graham, with properties by Jerry often understood through themselves, and some­ Walters, is a scarf dance. Itis not a dance. Neither, times not at all. It is to know the possibility of although it contains speech, is it a play. Its creators life in its deepest form —the joy of experiencing describe it as a "happening" and there are those who the over-abundant occurrence piled high on re­ have hailed its appearance on beaches and putting lated and unrelated fact. The realization of THE greens, on balconies and sidewalks, in theatres and in GIFT from its inception occurred through the patios, as a theatrical event. As for myself, I am understanding of movement, through selection convinced that "The Gift" is that relic of clowns' play, without preconception. How one accepts or re­ for so long and so unhappily confined to the parlor, jects THE GIFT is important to the total ex­ where it is still occasionally seen on television, perience, for then it is a gift. a charade. 43

What distinguishes the charade from other dramatic different colors worn by the ancient ollaves or master forms is not so much its shape as its purpose, which poets of the pre-Christian Irish. The bubblegum is enigmatic representation syllable by syllable. The serves the purpose of re-inforcing the comic note by performers try to mislead and the audience tries not suggesting the Aristophanic wind-egg. It is with the to be misled. Obviously, under such circumstances, popping of these wind-eggs that the action, properly the worst thing an audience can do is to ask itself the speaking, commences. question, "what does it all mean? " What it must ask is, quite simply, "what is it?" In the case of "The Frankly, I was completely taken in by the frantic Gift", the appropriate question is implied in the title. screams of the distraught maiden being pursued Thus, enigmatically, the nature of the piece is defined through the building by the aroused male and when she in advance and what we have to anticipate is as much was captured in the patio the capitulation was so con­ mystification as the rules permit. I think such enig­ vincing that it was hard to remember that it was all matic definitions are well within the rules. They add a riddle. Not since THE PURLOINED LETTER has to the fun and if you don't like that sort of fun, "The the point about being obvious being the best way to hide Gift" is not your cup of tea. No, tea is not the solution. anything been made so strongly. I was absolutely mys­ At least I don't think it is. tified. I managed to ask the right question —"what is it?" not "what does it all mean?" — but my mind kept The titular clue is hardly a direct statement and it is wandering off in such ancient directions as wondering only halfway through the piece, and then more by in­ whether what was going on might be good for the lettuce stinct than reason, that one returns to it. One com­ crop and the like. mences, in the usual way, by asking, "what doesthis mean? What does that mean? " A masculine personage Only when the players gathered their props together stands waiting beside an upended oblong table from and somewhat quaintly, left the patio on their eighteen- which flows a long drape. It is all very casual and century way, or so it seemed at the moment, to the simple, baroque, shabby and noble, like something next village, did it occur to me that the answer might out of Callot. A chair, unpadded, a girl, not unpadded be contained in the title itself, just as a clue to the and more of a soubrette than a personage, invoking, nature of the performance had been contained in it. with her costume, as I have already suggested, the There was only one patent possibility and it was with comic spirit, and a small piece of wood, striking a the thought that the whole piece was an exercise in the Noguchi note without, however, losing its identity as mystique of the obvious that I hit upon the idea of invert­ a slapstick or, for that matter, the phallus of Old ing the key word itself, which was, of course, gift. Comedy, completes the scene. The action begins with Backwards, with the _t silent as in tchick, it spells lowering the table and chewing bubblegum, while the fig or if you prefer, f^g. This is just aguess, really, girl puts on a black petticoat and a scarf and the per­ and the more I think about it now the more I think it sonage struts about with the drape, thus bringing to may be too obvious. There must be another answer six the number of colors worn by the pair and sug­ but for the life of me I can't think what it might be. gesting, though probably quite accidently, the six

LADISLAS SEGY in "Art Appreciation and Projection" (IMPULSE 1958, reprinted from ETC., A review of General Semantics) says: "We use the word 'well-trained' onlooker intentionally. By this we mean a person who has spent enough time to study art and to expose himself to the contemplation of art works. The result of such study would be to develop a certain sensitivity which would enable him not only to look at a work of art but to see it in its full manifestation. Hence, when we speak about reactions to works of art and when we try to compare these reactions, we must take it for granted that we consider such a "well-trained" person. Ob­ viously, we cannot measure how well a person is trained, nor what effect, what grade of sensitivity has been achieved in the inner self of this hypothetical art appreciator. But we must exclude those of the general public who have, spent no time in developing this attitude, whose only standard is how close a work is to photographic reality, or how much illustrative sentimentality the work can convey to them. ".. .the artist starts with an emotional experience. The expression, in a work of art, is felt by the spectator. This reveals inhimhis own emotional experiences, which he projects back into the work under contemplation. We stressed that the great differences in the psyche of individuals are the cause for the different reactions toward a work of art. That means that when someone expresses his own reaction, like or dislike, feeling or no feeling, he is making a sort of confession about his own psychological constellation. • A Creative Dance Centre for Vancouver

PETER BATCHELOR

The entry court of the Dance Centre leads the visitor to both the Dance Theatre and the Dance School. Areas are provided for social activities and diningto the right of the entrance; many courts, terraces and gardens complete the landscape.

Across the center court from the theatre entrance are the lecture rooms of the school. A sculpture court and exhibition hall join the classrooms to the administrative offices and staff space. Special consideration This material from Peter Batchelor's Graduation Project In the University of British Columbia School of Architecture was made available by Helen Goodwin of the University of British Columbia. Mr. Batchelor is at present in Europe on a traveling fellowship to study Multiple Housing and Planning. 45 is taken for the children's area of the school. It has its own entrance, court, dance-deck and studios for both art and dance. Dance terraces adjoin the children's studios and the adult studios. The main dance practice area is flanked by two small studios which can also be used for art and music.

The circular theatre has 372 seats, an elevating and rotating stage and a recessed pit for musicians. Adjacent to the theatre auditorium are accommodations for dressing rooms, workshops and costumes; an artists' entrance leads directly to these facilities. Part of the sunken court next to the theatre is designated as an outdoor dance-deck.

As an architectural problem the Creative Dance Centre forms, murals, screens and other architectural ele­ has no precedent. ments , the indoor practice studio must act as a transi­ tional area in order to prepare the dancer for the main Its educational programmes are designed to meet the studio. The main studio should turn inward, introvert needs of students entering the teaching profession or as it were, in order to focus all the attention on the those entering dancing careers with contemporary dancer and his, or her, creative movements in space. companies, television, theatre or other organizations. Thus it is apparent that a dance environment must in­ Its programmes cater to the needs of these groups, but tegrate the texture, colour, and spatial variety of above all, aimtogivethe student an all round education nature with the austerity of an unembellished perform­ in dance, relating to contemporary developments in ance area. visual art, music, literature and science as a means of comprehending the changing social and philosophical The basic purpose of the Creative Dance Centre is to attitudes of North America, an idea comparable to provide the dancer with a totally integrated education Walter Gropius' famous Bauhaus. in dance and the related arts. In order to achieve a truly creative atmosphere, the architectural environ­ Another aspect of the Creative Dance Centre is the ment must permit both mental and physical exploration development of public sympathy and understanding of through areas scaled to the human stature. The feel­ dance. To meet this end children and adults are in­ ing should be one of intimacy and relaxation; the indi­ structed on a part time basis — the children partici­ vidual should be able to enjoy social intercourse with pate in afternoon classes, while adults attend evening others, or to seek privacy for philosophical reflection. classes. The dance centre is not only an institution Classrooms and workshops opening out onto screened, for students and professional dancers but also a centre shaded areas and opening into landscaped courts, sug­ for all people in Vancouver who are interested in the gest an informality which will be incorporated into art of the dance. both the administrative and the educational functions of the dance centre. DESIGN CONSIDERATIONS Generally speaking the total visual impact of the build­ An ideal environment for the dancer is one which allows ing complex should reflect the site and the dynamic for a variety of spatial and material exploration during qualities of movement. The morning mist, the all practice, and a neutrality of background during per­ pervasive silence among the trees, the softly rolling formance . The beautifully wooded areas of the Shaugh- landscape, the distant grandeur of the mountains, and nessy Golf Course canbe utilised to create an atmos­ the evolving flowing movements of dancers—all these phere of organic richness; practice studios will extend things must be united within the architectural concept. into the trees or across the undulating landscape so Furthermore, the Creative Dance Centre will be seen that the student gains complete physical freedom. by many people every day, so that it must enhance the Since it is desirable that dancers in theatrical per­ position of dance in our society through a subtle inter­ formances are not distracted by powerful structural play of forms in space and light.

*"V _ < THE IDEAL THEATER: EIGHT CONCEPTS

An exhibition of designs and models re­ sulting from the Ford Foundation Program for Theater Design. Prepared and circu­ lated by The American Federation of Arts. January, 1962 - January, 1964

Barrie Greenbie, Designer i Elizabeth Harris, Choreographer

Project Consultants: Architect: Seth Hiller Acoustical engineers: Bolt, Beranek, and Newman, Inc., Boston, Massachusetts

A theater for dance with stage composed of movable platforms, controlled by hydraulic lifts.

Elizabeth Harris, dancer-choreographer, has taught at Sarah Lawrence College and performed with several major modern dance companies. Barrie Bar stow Greenbie, architectural and theater designer with his own firm, Porta pavilion Structures Ltd., has designed theaters for the New York area. 47 A Theater for Dance AUDITORIUM PLAN

A look at the auditorium plan of this theater will show that in place of a stagehouse enclosing action in a space joined only by a hole in the wall to a separate space enclosing the audience, we have one space en­ closing both, but with clearly defined and differently organized areas for the differing kinds of activities engaged in by performers and spectators. This is of course not a new concept, but our "open stage" has a somewhat different purpose from the avowed intent of most experiments by directors and designers of spoken drama in non-proscenium staging. We are not attempting to increase "intimacy" between performer and audience, but on the contrary wish to heighten the dramatic perspective, the "esthetic distance", of the dance by boldly isolating it in its own function­ ally different area of the audience within a common larger space. It is the unity of action and audience we wish to obtain, but not intimacy, for reality is not always perceived most clearly close up, particularly the reality of movement and ever-chang­ ing relationships which are the dan­ cer's domain.

Disregarding intimacy as a factor, two results are achieved by seating the audience on more than one (in this case, three) sides of the stage. The first has been mentioned, that the spectator is able to perceive the fig­ ures before him in three-dimensional relationship to each other and also to him, for the same space surrounds them both. The second is that a spec­ tator sitting on one side of the audi­ torium is aware, not only of the action in front of him, but also peripherally of other members of the audience on other sides of the stage. He perceives not only his own view of the perform­ ance, but vicariously other views from other positions. He knows that they are seeable, and therefore exist.

The one - directional view from flat seating across a framed opening, es­ pecially if the spectator is seated near floor level, is a straight line connect­ ing two points. A line is a fiction which does not exist in nature, a symbol without form or substance. The mo­ ment one or more other points of reference are introduced, the line becomes a triangle or polygon with shape, dimension, individuality. If the spectator is close to the stage, 48

two or more figures provide these reference points sides of the octagonal stage. The stage, of course, and it is quite possible that the popular preference for may be isolated by lighting or curtains much more front-row seats is as much to break through the un­ than it is possible to indicate with the small scale reality of the peep-hole stage frame as the traditional model. Three of the ramps lead up from under the desire to see the actors' faces. When the stage is audience seating, which projects above the stage like partially surrounded by the auditorium other members the balcony of a conventional auditorium. Ramps from become reference points as well. How much the quality the upstage area permit entrances and exits before a of seeing from more than one point of view contributes permanent eye, one of the most effective backgrounds to our sense of reality is demonstrated by the stereop- for dance. The eye, however, is not a realistic sky ticon cameras, or negatively, by putting a patch over dome, but three distinct planes reflecting the octagon­ one eye and walking down the street. The mental radar al stage and the complementary planes of the audience of the open stage permits us to see, not only with our seating. own two eyes, but indirectly with many eyes of many other people as well. The steep rake of the auditorium, the maximum most building codes will allow, provides a clear view of the The performers on a proscenium stage are limited to entire stage floor from every chair in the 1100-seat one plane of movement primarily, a plane parallel to house. This is particularly important for dance, the curtain line and perpendicular to the audience's where it is necessary to see the whole figure of the line of vision. They can at best tilt this plane a bit performer, including feet, as well as to seethe whole by making a "diagonal" cross, from upstage right to pattern of movement on the floor. For this reason downstage left or vice versa. An upstage center en­ the normal position of the stage is lower than the front trance may be impressive at the moment of appear­ row of seats. The stage may also be raised to a posi­ ance, but if it continues downstage it is inevitably an tion thirty inches above it, if desired. In this case interrupted movement, for it must change direction or one or more of the downstage ramps may be lowered stop. For the space behind a proscenium frame is to form an orchestra pit or raised to create a "thrust not a complete space, but a sawed-off space, like the stage" apron. Upstage ramps and wing platforms familiar box set representing a house with one wall may also be raised to level off the stage completely. missing. Special precision-engineered joint strips will auto­ matically close cracks between platforms in the in­ . . . With the normal set-up of our design, adjustable terest of soft slippers and bare feet. ramps lead up from the basement to each of the eight

LEW CHRISTENSEN ON RESPONSIBILITY . taken from BALLET HERALD

Ballet, a performing art, is by its very nature housed in the theater. At present in America there is a great poverty of theaters suitable for ballet and those few which do exist are, for the most part, inadequate­ ly built and poorly located. A good theater is the result of a demanding public. It grows, board by board, as the community discovers its needs. Ideally it is centrally located, such as a town hall, and ruled by articulate artists. The smaller portion of a theater is devoted to the performer, the larger to the audience; yet the entire energy behind a production is directed to the smaller part and little consideration given the larger. Ballet has limited itself to finding and training pupils, banding a few advanced dancers together to tell a story or idea, and hoping the public will come and support it. The public, on whom all this activity is centered, is left entirely out of the picture. It doesn't know what is being done and for this reason probably doesn't care. Teachers, directors, and professional dancers must take upon themselves the responsibility of bringing about an active public response to ballet. 49 Dance for the Dutch MOLLY LYNN

The Public at a Performance of The Scapino Ballet

What are national characteristics in an audience? ence and its interaction with the dance. They are a shifting mixture of intellectual and emo­ tional factors emerging from a national social climate. The arts in Holland are given proportionately far A comparison of the American and the Dutch audiences greater government attention and specific aid than in for dance could show us some of the ways in which an America, where such aid and attention are given by audience affects dance and how dance can develop and private individuals and organizations and in regionally influence an audience. The comparison at first seems developed arts programs. The fact that the national like judging a St. Bernard and a Toy Terrier in the government of Holland demonstrates its recognition same show class. Both have points in common changed of the arts as important in the life of the country by qualitatively by size. The smallness of Holland and subsidizing ballet companies and schools, by grants the largeness of America produce, in turn, specific to choreographers and scholarships to students, gives conditions for the performing arts. The attitudes of a measure of security to the artist and raises his sta­ the national governments toward the arts, the amount ture in the public image. The situation in this country of regional activity, the uniformity, or lack of it, in is more competition-ridden. Artistic survival is based the customs and taste of the peoples and finally, the in part on audience appeal, box office and private historic backgrounds of both cultures, affect the audi­ angels, and most often results from the sheer vitality

Molly Lynn, dancer and teacher in New York City, spent considerable time in Holland where she had an opportunity to observe Dutch performances and audiences. 50

and determination of the artist. Which situation This seems to be a continuing trend of audience opinion, creates a better working climate for the dancer and though the recently growing interest in modern tech­ a more responsive audience, is debatable. Certainly nique and choreography, even among the balletomanes, the turmoil and competition here have made for ori­ is a gradually counteracting influence. Directly after ginality and vitality in the art and the large population the war, with its physical and emotional exhaustion, produces a diversified audience. On the other hand, a cultural reconstruction took place in Holland and in the relative stability of the situation in Holland in com­ other European countries, along with the physical re­ parison to ours and the more homogeneous audience building of cities and daily life as a whole. In dance could, with proper fertilization of talent, produce this revival seemed to avoid the highly experimental dance of real quality and a discerning, educated audi­ and emotional, and to concentrate on skill and the ence. national development of the known and the stable. Quite naturally a nation which had been through ex­ The Dutch dance audience demonstrates a strong liking periences like those in THE DIARY OF ANN FRANK, for the foreign and the exotic. The Spanish dance is did not flock to see such a play or other theatre pieces extremely popular as are various ethnic and folk making strong emotional demands upon the audience. styles. The Moiseyev Dancers of the Soviet Union, for example, had a tremendous popular response. There Now, however, more experimental works are being is also interest among laymen and professionals alike tried on the public, notably those of the Dutch choreo­ in studying the Spanish dance as well as Indian, Indo­ grapher Hans van Manen and other Dutch artists, as nesian, Russian and Hungarian dance. A less im­ well as pieces like Anna Sokolow's "Rooms, ".per­ mediate and certainly a more specialized audience re­ formed with amazing sensitivity by the Netherlands sponse has been produced by performances of modern Dance Theatre ballet company. Apparently the Dutch dance companies from America, notably the Graham public is ready to take stronger medicine. Finally, and Limon companies. Reactions have been mixed, the development of Dutch television, with programs but a very positive liking for the modern dance is evi­ of both ballet and modern dance, has contributed to­ denced by increased interest in studying the American ward a wider audience. style and by the importing of modern American choreo­ graphers and teachers by the Dutch ballet companies The United States audience has been exposed for a and schools. greater length of time to dance of all kinds. America has assimilated the rhythms, styles and qualities of Though activity and interest in the dance centers pri­ many nations. It has contributed in its own right marily in larger cities, there is increasing regional through its pioneers and innovators in the dance. With interest in dance education and attendance at perform­ its tradition of jazz and popular music, its social dance ances. This is promoted by the city governments as and its popular theatre tradition of vaudeville and well as by the dance educators and artists. There are musical comedy, America and its theatre audiences government and professional organizations devoted to are more "hep" and responsive to movement than the the arts. Arts programs including dance are quite Dutch with their strongly Calvinist tradition and less usual among employee organizations, brotherhoods heterogeneous population. Though the Dutch have their and guilds as well as inthe settlement houses. Active own special brand of cabaret and popular theatre, it is, lay participation in the arts is quite extensive in according to the nature of the people, more inclined Holland in comparison with some other European coun­ towards play of words and character than towards the tries. A great deal of this activity is post World War movement and slapstick so typical of the American II. Along with government changes came interest in popular theatre. new ideas in education, notably adult education, and an awareness of the role that the arts can play in this In America more real experimentation has gone on in field. All of these developments have affected the dance education and audience response to dance than general and the specialized audience in Holland, and in Holland, chiefly again because the atmosphere here have brought about a new audience group, the well in­ makes for innovation and audiences seem more re­ formed lay participant. sponsive to the new or the "offbeat." Especially in work with children America has made real contribu­ Paradoxically, the dance style that attracted most in­ tions . Reflecting the idea of motivation for learning terest and energy in post war Holland was ballet. Ac­ in progressive education, a group such as the Merry cording to Lucas Hoving, who returns occasionally to Go Rounders of New York has developed programs on Holland to teach and choreograph, the Dutch are act­ the premise that the dance must relate directly to the ually much more attuned to modern dance than to ballet. children. They have partially eliminated the barrier Yet they acclaim ballet as the leading dance style and of the footlights, so that the dancers communicate in support three ballet companies and no modern groups. a more intimate manner with the audience and the 51 children participate directly in the dance idea. The to border in Holland, a comparable idea might occur Scapino Children's Ballet of Amsterdam, on the other in one part of the United States and go unnoticed (or be hand, typically presents a more traditional go-be­ given merely token recognition) for an indefinite tween, the character "Scapino, " who narrates and ex­ period. plains to the children the content and nature of the dances. On the one hand, The Merry Go Rounders The Dutch affinity for popular music and dance from present dance ideas evolving directly from the child's America and their often surprisingly warm response world, while The Scapino Ballet presents both tradi­ to modern American dance and drama, make one agree tional story ballets and pas de deux as well as modern wdth Lucas Hoving when he says that the emotions and dance. The dances are planned to interest and delight "feel" for the modern are there but afraid to show the children but are designed to be viewed as stage themselves. Certainly the younger generation, with spectacles. its own share of "beats" and "nozems", is a less in­ hibited audience than the parents. In both countries The total activity surrounding dance in this country is the audience of children, grown to adulthood, will re­ much harder to evaluate than that of Holland. Where­ flect the blending of tradition and innovation which as one idea could possibly reverberate from border will characterize the audience of the future.

The Sahrdaya The Initiated Spectator

KAPILA VATSYAYAN

"The artistic creation is the direct or unconven- the trained or initiated spectator, reader or listener. tionalized expression of a feeling of passion 'gen­ Chapter XXVIII of the Natyasastra is devoted to a dis­ eralized', that is, freed from distinctions in time cussion of the characteristics of the audience. Suc­ or space and therefore from individual relation­ ceeding writers on aesthetics have continued to dis­ ships and practical interests, through an inner cuss the characteristics of the ideal spectator of the force of the artistic or creative intuition within dance and drama much as they do those of the ideal the artist. This state of consciousness (rasa) artiste — dancer, dramatist, musician, poet or paint­ embodied in the poem is transferred to the actor, er. Bharata, laying down the requisite qualifications the dancer, the reciter and to the spectator. Born of the spectator of drama thus envisions: in the heart of the poet, it flowers as it were in "Those who are possessed of character, quiet be­ the actor and bears fruit in the spectator." havior, learning, ... are impartial, proficient in drama in all its six limbs, alert, honest, unaffec­ "If the artist or poet has the inner force of the ted by passion, expert in playing the four kinds of creative intuition, the spectator is the man of cul­ musical instruments, acquainted with costumes tivated emotion in whom lie dormant the different and makeup, the rules of dialect, the four kinds states of being, and when he sees them manifested, of histrionic representation, grammar, prosody, revealed on the stage through movement, sound and various canons (sastra) and those who are ex­ and decor, he is lifted to that ultimate state of perts in different arts and crafts and have a fine bliss known as ananda." sense of the sentiment (rasa) of the drama." says Abhinavagupta, the most important commentator And further: on the Natyasastra. "He who attains gladness on seeing a person glad or sorrow on seeing him sorry, who feels miser­ From Bharata to the late medieval writers on Indian able on seeing him miserable, is considered fit aesthetics, the discussion of the aesthetic experience to be a spectator in a drama." and the aesthetic creation never has been confined to the poet or artist who 'expresses' or 'manifests'. Made nearly two thousand years ago, these statements The process of artistic creation is considered com­ are even pertinent today for the correct understanding, pleted and fulfilled only when it is communicated to Kapila Vatsyayan is Assistant Educational Advisor, Ministry of Education and Scientific Affairs, Government of India. Her research on the relationship of classical Indian dance to ancient and medieval Sanskrit traditions in music, sculpture and literature, is currently in press for publication in India in English. 52 63^505 appreciation and appraisal of the Indian arts, especi­ distinctions of time and space. ally dance and music which have enjoyed a remarkable continuity of tradition. Today one can witness a remarkable continuity of tra­ dition in the spheres of Indian music and dance. The Indian artistic expression was the direct result of a practicing artist, in a very large measure, continues mode of living which was at once self-conscious and to consider the artistic experience as a self-discipline highly cultivated. Life was regarded as a continued of the highest order for the supreme realization on the opportunity for the expansion and cultivation of feel­ spiritual plane. The spectator or the cultivated ings and emotions, through which 'release' and 'sal­ Rasika, a man of cultivated and trained emotions, vation' could be attained and providing one willed it shares the tradition and firmly believes that in the 'here and now.' Thus the arts were the most impor­ experience of the arts, especially music and dance, tant instruments for the cultivation of feelings. In is an experience of his finest sensibilities. The dan­ this concept of life there was no place for the extin­ cer feels no need to break away from the tradition for guishing of interests, feelings and emotions for the it gives him on the one hand the freedom of expression realization of the highest spiritual goal. The culture and on the other is a great source of self-discipline; of emotions, the training of feelings, assumed a sig­ the spectator is mentally prepared to witness the dance nificant place very early in the history of Indian modes not as entertainment but as an experience which unfolds of living and given a value which belonged not only to the dormant universal feelings lying within him: as a the realm of aesthetics but also to the realm of spirit­ result, the demands which the spectator makes upon ual realization. Itis important to bear this constantly himself are as exacting as those which the artist, the in mind, for the highest attainments of Indian art were dancer, imposes upon himself. the outcome of this desire of the artist to expand the individual self through the artistic experience to a Thus the dancer's concern, on the plane of artistic larger, Universal self, for the finite to merge with the form, is not with his individual self or the human body infinite. The artistic experience and the artistic ex­ as such, but with the use of the human instrument in pression were thus no longer of the individual, but of such a manner that the universal might be suggested. the race or — even more — the universal Self — the Designs in space, the treatment of each muscular ten­ immortal — in Man. sion and release, the gestures of hand and eye there­ fore assume a significance beyond the immediate and Since the artistic experience was accepted by both the personal expression of the individual artist. The dan­ creator and the spectator as an instrument vital for the cer believes that, so long as the individual self— the expansion of the individual, the unique self, towards human form — has not been expanded, uplifted, to be­ the Universal Self, and since this experience was again come an impersonalized universal self, the artistic accepted as a discipline of the highest order, both experience has been a failure. The spectator comes creator and spectator made a special effort to achieve to revive the universal, the impersonalized feelings, a state of harmony and bliss through the experience. ratherthan to respond tothe personal, subjective ex­ The dancer, the performer, had the creative intuition perience of the artist. In the field of the classical and the spectator the training and cultivation to achieve Indian dance forms and musical compositions, this this state of harmony. The language that evolved was concept continues to be the solid foundation of accepted one of symbols validated by tradition and conviction, values. Communication is thus not only possible, but dependent for its life breath not on the true represen­ is a highly rewarding and fulfilling experience. tation of nature, but on the revealing of underlying truths and beauty of life through suggestion; on the However, since the thrill here lies inthe unfolding of plane of technique (artistic content), the training of the known but dormant, and not with the confrontation the spectator was an essential pre-requisite for any of the strange, the unique or the highly subjective, the communication which would be valid and meaningful. demands made upon the spectator are many and of a different order. The themes constituting the content The term used for the spectator, Sahrdaya or the of the classical dances of India remain the age-old rasika, sums up all the underlying assumptions of such themes of Indian legend, mythology and poetry; the a view. Dormant states of consciousness exist in the dance, or at least an aspect of it, is highly literary spectator, which, once he sees them manifested in character and borrows freely from the finished through the medium of the art, the identical states of products of Indian poetry. The positions, the stances, being are evoked and awakened within him. The spec­ the Indian dancer attains are the chiselled poses of tator is one of attuned heart and similar disposition Indian sculpture and iconography; the gestures are who can experience the mood, the sentiment (rasa) symbolic and derived from ritual confirmed by tra­ and who, like the creative artist himself, is capable dition and usage; the music and rhythmic patterns of experiencing emotion and feeling liberated from the forming the musical content of the dance piece are the 53 finished ragas (musical modes) and tala (rhythmic musical and sculptural background of Indian art are so cycles with specific numbers of unaccented and ac­ important that without them, the spectator is left on cented beats, etc.). The sculpturesque, the literary the fringes of aesthetic enjoyment and can never be and the musical are fused into the kinetic movements permeated by the spirit of this art. of the dance to suggest the cohesion, the harmonious state of being which each of these arts, singly, All this, however, presupposes a common sharing of reiterates. the artistic tradition and an awareness of its under­ lying principles. So long as art was confined to the For the uninitiated spectator, this dance becomes a creators and the cultivated, the creator was constantly highly symbolic art form filled with a bewildering stimulated and inspired by the spectator of attuned complexity and punctuated by repetition. Since it de­ disposition and similar heart and each enriched the mands a knowledge and training which apparently does other. With the throwing open of artistic perform­ not belong tothe visual experience of the dance alone, ances to large, heterogeneous audiences, this totality it also becomes something beyond his immediate of communication in dance is no longer easy, if even grasp. For the initiated spectator, however, these possible. The dancer can and does feel isolated be­ are the very factors which contribute to his delight hind the proscenium arch, aware that it is usually and the thrill of an unfolding experience also known to he who makes the effort to reach the spectator, and him in works of poetry, music and sculpture. The seldom, if ever, the audience makes an active effort revelation of the familiar plays an important role in to reach him. The modern milieu, the mass media, his aesthetic experience; it presupposes his awareness certainly presents an unprecedented challenge to the of the stylized, sculptured poses, the language of Indian arts of music and dance. The other Indian arts poetry and a detailed knowledge of musical pattern. — literature, sculpture and painting — faced it and have evolved a new language. Existing until recently Variations, interpretations and synchronizations are within the framework of a society which attached the all built around the pillars of the metrical cycle and highest values to them, the arts of music and dance the musical mode. The delight of the initiated spec­ have now to pass through the crucial test of being tator comes from the prismatic unfolding of the dif­ presented prima facie for entertainment while re­ ferent lights and shades where he can see and recreate taining the beliefs which embody an entire culture and the innumerable permutations and combinations of a civilization. self-imposed limitation of time, measure and space; in the pantomimic sequences, the understanding of the The capacity of the dancer to enlarge his experience word and the musical note are essentials as the word to communicate to the audience on a different level provides the foundation for the countless varieties in without a compromise of values and the capacity of dance patterns. This stylized layering of movement the spectator to train himself to share the experience patterns for a particular sequence of dance upon un­ lies at the very core of the problem which today both changing musical and literary compositions consti­ dancer and spectator in Indian dance must equally face. tutes the cardinal principle of the classical Indian Their capacity to retain the vitality within the tradi­ dance. An under standing of the fundamental princi­ tion without stultifying the art will be their measure ples of composition and a knowledge of the literary, of achievement and greatness.

•:^>«§Wi*f %H

Study of an Audience — Alan Meisel PULSE 1962

..._...-_ inn Dance in Relation to the

IMPULJE I 9J1 Individual and Society (out of print)

IMPULSE 1952 Production Issue

IMPULSE 1953 Dance in Education (out of print)

IMPULbE 1954 Dance as Communication (out of print)

IMPULbE 1955 Theories of Choreography (out of print)

IMPULSE 1956 Dance and Related Arts

IMPULSE 1957 Dance for Children

IMPULSE 1958 Theories and View Points (out of print) IMPULSE 1959 Arch Lauterer-Poet in the Theatre

IMPULSE 1960 Dance in the Screen Media

IMPULSE 1961 The Dancer as a Person.

MODERN DANCE FORMS In Relation to the Other Modern Arts by Louis Horst and Carroll Russell, 1961. $5.00

THE ANNUAL OF impulse publications inc. • 160 palo alto avenue • san francisco 14, California