AL7 — Care & Cruelty: When Immersive Theatre Goes Too Far
NEW YORK | The psychological dangers of participatory theatre are present even in the correction to Artaud’s Theatre of Cruelty
WORDS BY HAILEY SCOTT
ILLUSTRATION BY ALICIA JUNGWIRTH
A trip to New York landed me in the lobby of Punchdrunk’s Sleep No More, a three-hour immersive performance. As I wandered the six-story warehouse by myself, I found a lone actor who took my hand and pulled me into an empty room. He quickly barricaded the door, pulled down the window shutters, and took off my mask, leaving me to question whether this was a part of the performance. He caressed my face and kissed me on the forehead before allowing me to escape. Sleep No More’s mantra, “fortune favours the bold,” mirrors this actor’s dramaturgically integrated performance, which hinges on audiences stepping far beyond their comfort zones and into the arms of strangers. Teetering between reality and performance, my violating encounter might have left some feeling traumatised; however, the allure of the intimate performance instead left me feeling exhilarated.
Participatory theatre has transformed our understanding of what being an audience can entail. Rather than sitting on velvet seats in a dark venue, spectators can now experience an interactive journey alongside actors. “Performance” begins to inch closer to reality, both in terms of the experience and, unfortunately, its consequences. Both Antonin Artaud’s Theatre of Cruelty and the emerging Theatre of Care theories have become alluring toys for participatory theatre practitioners, generating heightened sensory experiences for audiences. Yet, psychological considerations are often sidelined in favour of these emotionally-charged experiences. Luckily, I left Sleep No More feeling giddy; however, with the growing awareness of mental health in popular culture, artists find themselves with a newfound responsibility to ensure their spaces are not just physically accessible, but psychologically accessible, too.
In response to the tumultuous socio-political landscape of the 1930s, Artaud’s Theatre of Cruelty theory rejects previous theatre styles, disregards form, and incites chaos by hurling the spectator into the centre of the action to experience total immersion and participation. Defining “cruelty” is vital to understanding Artaud’s motivation, as “cruelty” is not a senseless infliction of pain, but rather the creation of art that reflects the brutalities of life. It’s designed to be the ultimate social commentary with its recreation of socio-political dangers. When constructing Theatre of Cruelty performances, psychological trauma is not only a risk, it’s often a motivating factor. Audiences’ emotions are frequently exploited as the lack of consent and safeguards are purposefully factored into the performance’s dramaturgy and construction, for the sake of realism. These productions are designed to mimic real life and offer people an outlet to explore their reactions to high-intensity subject matter. Although it’s beneficial to use art to drive social progression, Theatre of Cruelty can harm its participants, stifling their desire to promote change and psychological growth.
Theatre of Care gained popularity during the COVID-19 lockdown. Walking a fine line between theatre and personal service, this theory relies on audiences to disclose their emotional vulnerabilities in an intimate performance motivated by care. This intimate art form does not intend to push the boundaries like Theatre of Cruelty─instead, it’s designed to be a welcoming space tailored to one’s personal needs. Theatre of Care mimics the safe and regulated environment often found through personal therapeutic services, by incorporating the goodwill and trust generated by professional healthcare to the benefit of the theatre company. However, this correction against the excesses of Theatre of Cruelty can pose its own dangers. This fabrication of trust is attained without dedicating time and resources to legitimately achieve the same standard of certification, training, and safeguards as the healthcare setting. In a sense, it manipulates audiences by making them feel like they are in a safe space, without sufficient implementations to ensure their safety. As a result, they are put in vulnerable and potentially damaging situations where they are cared for by someone conducting performance art, not therapy.
Although marketed as different experiences, both Theatre of Cruelty and Theatre of Care exploit the audience’s emotional vulnerability to enhance their productions and stoke a heightened psychological experience. Theatre often operates under the assumption that performances are grounded in fiction and feature “make-believe” experiences that pose no “real-world” consequences. However, audiences often cannot detangle reality from illusion in a participatory setting. My experience at Sleep No More illustrates the dangerous consequence of putting my trust in theatre practitioners to care for my physical and psychological well-being, by virtue of being in a theatre space. By first recognizing the implications of exploiting the theatrical environment and toying with participants’ vulnerabilities, artists can generate strategies to ensure their performances are equipped to handle the results of intimate interactions. But without proper safeguards, practitioners of participatory theatre risk psychologically harming their audiences and opening themselves up to legal liability. Implementing meaningful consent, guaranteeing venues are accessible, and providing immediate mental health resources, then, become important strategies for maintaining the intimacy of the artform while ensuring that performances are safe experiences for patrons.
LEARN MORE ABOUT CANNOPY:
