Stefan jovanovic

The Generosity of Violence Within a Theatre for Madness Commanding Architecture: Between Life and Government Thanos Zartaloudis Diploma HTS Course Submission T1 2015

By Stefan Jovanović

“To think of architecture as an apparatus means to think of not simply material but rather a complex system of apparatuses made also of discourses, technologies, norms and protocols of freely regulated behavior of free subjects, embedded into a wider mechanism of government of, what can be called, subjects without body (agents/dividiauls).”1

One, in turn, may ask the following questions:

What is the subject without body? What is it with?

How does the subject without body assume a freely regulated behavior?

Where can this complex of apparatuses take place?

Finally, within which architectural regime may we still encounter norms and protocols that allow for a complete implosion of immanent power, one that starts with body?

Whilst one understanding of the body resides in its flesh, another lies in its "embodied experience, including pain and its representation... a mix of biological facts and cultural consciousness."2

Often there is a level of violence associated with pain, but also a cruelty inflicted upon oneself to express that violence, dissect it, transform it, and give it a life outside of the flesh. The body then acts as a vessel for this consciousness, which begins as a process within the body. However there is also a consciousness outside of the body, or the so-­‐called out-­‐of-­‐body state/s. When the latter invades the former, when the threshold disappears, a form of violence is born again. This violence, which is understood in relation to the self, associated with insanity, is first sent into exile, to later be placed within the prison.3 Further on, the same condition is transferred from the prison to the asylum until the birth of psychiatry. The madman is subjected to a disciplinary power, which fears and thus refuses to allow for the magic that he possesses. The subject’s body is forced into alienation from the self, and one loses any possibility to legally express the madness through the body. The masks on the puppets continuously change, but the puppeteer remains the same. Shame has become guilt, fear has become anxiety, and madness keeps psychiatry in business. Where exactly can the madman have any opportunity to exercise honest immanent power of the self, of that other consciousness, outside of any legal system, outside of any clinic? Where can the violence of that madness be both justified and safe?

Could one possibly turn to the modern-­‐day theatre, as a model that could bypass both the prison and the asylum, or the benevolent clinic?

The stage, the theatrical stage, is a site where the space becomes an apparatus for exercising behavior that is at once free and also regulated.

If the current state of society is one where crisis has become the permanent form of governance, entirely blurring the distinction between transcendent and immanent power,4 one thus also realizes the permanent fear of death. Thus the illusion of freely regulated behavior, operates in so far as one continuously accepts death as the ultimate consequence for a subject with body. It is easier if one can then act without body, in the name of [another], a flesh with no spirituality. No spirituality in the flesh, no consequences, no death, a freedom to act... but at whose interest?

I propose that the theatre, or rather the threshold between the stage and the auditorium, can act via a different set of protocols. It also becomes the test-­‐site of the body as an apparatus towards the small death. This small death becomes a deviation from the immanent power operating outside of the theatre's walls, and can truly be understood as a productive force.

I open a small digression in regards to the term small death. The small death is comparable to the psychedelic dream state when "material form breaks down; it ceases to be a dissipative structure in a very localized area, sustained against entropy by cycling material in, extracting energy, and expelling waste."5 The small death is the out-­‐of-­‐body; sensory deprived, non-­‐state of consciousness, (triggered by the craft of cathartic emotion).

Let us then consider this threshold in the same way that Koolhaas describes the Berlin wall, where "neither those in the West nor those in the East are free, only those trapped in the wall are truly free."6 The wall is the threshold within the theatre.

Then, imagine displacing the materiality of the wall to the brick and mortar of the building, the red velvet curtain or the seat you may sit within during a performance. The culturally accepted invisible threshold is the proscenium arch, being the line that can also divide the norms of behavior. What happens when that line morphs into a more encompassing shape, and surrounds both the stage and the auditorium? In other words, what occurs when the threshold is expanded to encompass the relations between all of the bodies in the room on equal ground?

Agamben writes that the (ancient) feast is one that "reveals itself to be above all a deactivation of existing values and powers."7 His notion of feast involves dance as the "liberation of the body from its utilitarian movements" and masks as the "neutralization of the face."8 This feast of anonymous dancing bodies with masks is a scenario one may very well expect to encounter within the theatre. In this scenario, the threshold remains unaltered, for all bodies freely express themselves within

1 Zartaloudis, Thanos. "Commanding Architecture." Control & Dispositif: Extra Lecture. Online, London. 1 Jan. 2015. Lecture.

2

Fuller, Robert C. Spirituality in the Flesh Bodily Sources of Religious Experience. (New York: Oxford UP, 2008) 163

3 Foucault,

Michel, and Jean Khalfa. History of Madness. (London: Routledge, 2006) 10-11 Thanos. "Commanding Architecture." Lecture 7-Strategies 3 Exodus-Koolhaas. AA, London. 1 Jan. 2015. Lecture.

5 McKenna, Terence K. The Archaic Revival: Speculations on Psychedelic Mushrooms, the Amazon, Virtual Reality, UFOs, Evolution, Shamanism, the Rebirth of the Goddess, and the End of History. (San Francisco, Calif.: HarperSanFrancisco, 1991) 91 6 Steele, Brett. Ëxodus or The Voluntary Prisoners of Architecture / Rem Koolhaas. First Works: Emerging Architectural Experimentation of the 1960s & 1970s.

(London: Architectural Association, 2009) 7 Agamben, Giorgio. "What Is a Destituent Power?" Environment and Planning D: Society and Space (Vol 32, 2014) 70 8 Ibid. 70.

4 Zartaloudis,

the convention and norm already understood. The threshold of the small death, however, occurs when the feast is composed of broken expectations, where dancers do not dance, and their faces are not masks but subjective formalized ruptures. It is when the bodies deliver "a break-­‐through which smashes the continuity of a personality and takes it on a kind of trip through 'more reality' at once intense and terrifying."9

This is the moment, where the awareness of the body seated roughly twenty meters away from the body on the stage, is confronted with a sense of risk. The risk being that there is the potential for that moment becoming a "mass theatre, merged with the society".10 The risk of a merger of consciousness, where the stage, as an apparatus for the bodies physically located on it, extends its agency into the auditorium. Suddenly the entire room becomes a dispositif for exercising immanence, to this point dormant.

However, like in any complex system of norms and protocols, there are degrees of immanence as to which user is in question. The audience member will not experience the same form of inebriation as the performer on stage. It is important to realize what the threshold offers to both parties. The situation hands to the performer a complete encounter with the out-­‐of-­‐ body, if induced correctly. The audience member perceives this moment in a form of representation, to whose magic their participation is secondary but invaluable. There also exists the scenario where the immanent and/or somatic death of the performer can induce liberation within he or she who watches. For this to occur, one must experience an empathetic sensation that resides in the realm of madness through the bare ritual. The set-­‐up and setting of the relationships in the theatre is vital until that magical moment of catharsis; at which point one can leave the senses behind.

I will now take into consideration two bodies of theatrical work, which manifest the immanent power of out-­‐of-­‐body implosion on stage and in the auditorium. The first will look at two pieces by Pina Bausch/ Tanztheater Wupperal: 1980, Ein Stück and Auf dem Gebirge hat man ein Geschrei gehört (1984). The second will look at a contemporary piece, entitled Until Our Heart Stop, (2015) by Meg Stuart/Damaged Goods.

9 Deleuze, 10 Kantor,

Gilles, and David Lapoujade. Two Regimes of Madness: Texts and Interviews, 1975-1995. (New York: Semiotext(E) ; 2007) 27 Tadeusz. "My Idea of the Theatre." The Rhinoceros by E. Ionesco Cracow (1961): 17-22.

Image 1

In Auf dem Gebirge hat man ein Geschrei gehört, translated as On a Mountain a Cry was Heard, one encounters a lyrical forest of pine trees, dirt, and mist invoking the story of Herod, from the Gospel of Matthew11. A woman and man try to escape from a hurdle of men who chases them in pursuit. They get captured and their faces are forced into one another’s, soliciting a kiss, before they can wriggle out of the grasp of their withholders... and so the chase begins again. Again and again, they run, they are caught, they kiss, they escape. Repetition begins to exhaust the vignette, as what was initially humorous transforms into torment. It becomes hard to distinguish between the cries of the woman and Eugene Ormandy's War March of the Priests from "Athalie, Op.74" playing at full volume in the background.

It is a composition, which stems from an array of memories and re-­‐iterations of movement and emotions that suddenly get frozen and translated into an art form for the stage. What one encounters is the "dichotomy of a 'pre-­‐linguistic body' versus a 'linguistic controlling society', [where] repetition [is subverted, and] the body becomes responsible for its expression within the Symbolic."12 A certain madness arises from within the body and mind, which only through repetition assumes an aestheticized formal language. The moment the act becomes a device; the madness is transformed into a dispositif for those who watch.

Repetition is key, for it allows the "schizophrenic [to] reveal the unconscious for what it truly is: a factory.13 What Bausch does in this instant, is bring the spectator to continuously confront the body as the test-­‐site of a traumatic memory and contorted laugh, incessantly fluctuating between the performing bodies and the performers themselves. The cries of the woman root themselves in both personal tragedy and symbolic tragedy -­‐ alluding perhaps to the death of a multitude (the babies dying at Herod's hand) or of just one (herself). One enters into a certain degree of sadomasochism, witnessing the caging of oneself in a realm of repetitive torture, which uncannily evokes a breath of pleasure as well, the kiss. The absurd nature of what one witnesses on stage stops being absurd all together.

__ _ __

"For more than thirty years I've been remarkably careful never to be alone in the dark, ever. I couldn't stand it; I panic.

Because of that, I always carry candles with me; especially when I travel. Abroad or overseas -­‐ never without my candles,

ever, because of the electricity, you never know. And as a child, I was lying in my cradle, with all those bars, you know

[gesturing toward imaginary bars]. And as I got out, opened the kitchen door just a little bit, so that a little bit of light could

come in. And who came in? My nanny. And did she slap me! [She reacts to the ‘slap’ with surprise, but then breaks into a

slight smile-­‐ as if pleased by the experience]. And closed the door. I got out again, opened the door, she entered, and did

she slap me! [She repeats the gestures] And so we went on and on, you know...I got out, opened the door, she entered, and

did she slap me! [She repeats the sequence] So I'd rather be slapped than be alone in the dark; and never without my

candles ever; because of the electricity, you never know. Me? Never. I, never. Never, ever."14

In 1980, Ein Stück, Mechthild Grossmann walks out on stage and begins to describe a traumatic childhood event where her nanny slaps her. One is violently pulled between the high and the low, the laughter and the cry. Suddenly Mechthild turns to someone seated in the first row and shouts,

"And you!? What do you do for a living?"

The sudden break of the threshold amplifies how at once her "power exerts itself, where it takes shape, and why it is everywhere" all at once, out of her body, and into yours.15 A new paralysis invades your body, as her panoptic gaze confronts you.

At first, the language that Mechthild uses, constructs the image of a space, a series of actions which places the spectator in an asylum of witnessing his or her own immanent confinement from within the threshold. Like the madman who has "no prison other than the threshold itself...detained at this place of passage."16 The threshold widens as one begins to laugh in reaction to Mechthild, in reaction to her own morbidly pleasurable smile.

What happens in this moment when the mouth opens, when the deepest and most innate reaction is exposed? One begins to recognize and re-­‐cognize his or her own behavior as exiting the site of trauma, realizing of having been utterly incapacitated in a paralysis of laughter, quite literally. The mental lability in play is exposed, and the catharsis begins to pre-­‐empt the small death, as Mechthild asks you what you do for a living. The behavioral exchange has the power to morph the perception of the space at any given moment, from prison to haven, from clinic to bedroom.

Image 2

11 Barclay,

William. The Gospel of Matthew. Rev. ed. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1975. The Massacre of the Innocents.

Ciane. Pina Bausch and the Wuppertal Dance Theater: The Aesthetics of Repetition and Transformation. (New York: P. Lang, 2001) 102 13 Deleuze, Gilles, and David Lapoujade. Two Regimes of Madness: Texts and Interviews, 1975-1995. (New York: Semiotext(E) ;, 2007) 17 14 Fernandes, Ciane. Pina Bausch and the Wuppertal Dance Theater: The Aesthetics of Repetition and Transformation. (New York: P. Lang, 2001) 97 15 Deleuze, Gilles, and David Lapoujade. Two Regimes of Madness: Texts and Interviews, 1975-1995. (New York: Semiotext(E) ;, 2007) 11 12 Fernandes,

16

Foucault, Michel, and Jean Khalfa. History of Madness. (London: Routledge, 2006) 11

Her body and the embodied repetition it holds exercise a very controlled apparatus that is presented on a stage with very fixed boundaries. Whilst the performers oftentimes will leave the stage, and widen the threshold physically, this time the dispositif assumes a different methodology. The formal language of repeated words, gestures, movement, light and rhythm become translated into a strong aesthetic language, which can only exist as it does within the theatre. Perhaps counter-­‐ intuitively, the theatre becomes the sole place, whose very constraint of cultural normative entertainment, acts as the place for the exercising of ones immanent power. The out-­‐of-­‐body state, which I equate to complete immanent freedom, happens only when the (recognized) threshold is displaced. Hence, laughter becomes the site of trauma, where trauma becomes one step closer to death.

It is also important to note, that this scenario described can happen in any given moment in time, in any theatre. This very vignette, created in 1986, has been performed countless times since, in theatres all over the world. Thus it does not matter if one is sitting in the Wuppertal Opernhaus in 1986 or in Sadler's Wells Theatre in London in 2014. What is of value is that the conditions remain the same, with the same distance to the stage and Mechthild still as Mechthild and no one else. What occurs is a collapse of time, when taken as a phenomenon outside of the space of the auditorium itself. This collapse of time is similar in nature to what the schizophrenic mind constantly experiences. Delleuze describes this occurring as "a kind of hole in the structure, an empty place, which causes whatever is foreclosed in the symbolic to reappear as a hallucination in the real."17 In Pina's repertoire, one can witness the audience member coming very close to this hallucinatory moment. It is worth also investigating what happens simultaneously to the performer on stage. In that moment, she is able to rapidly develop an "inability to take refuge from inner and outer reality in the homemade universe of common sense -­‐ the strictly human world of useful notions, shared symbols and socially acceptable conventions."18 Your otherness on the other hand, as the voyeur, is exposed, generously, yet violently, and more importantly you are brought back to the flesh in being made aware of it.

This second viewpoint can be seen as repeatedly occurring in Until Our Hearts Stop.

Three men are entangled with one another on a sofa on stage, all with their shirts off, teasing one another with gentle slaps across the chest, belly, back, bottom. They giggle like little boys do, as they take turns being submissive to each other’s acts of benevolent violence. The slaps continue and the audience laugh, yet something begins to stir in the felt-­‐sense of those who watch. The slaps become a bit harder as the sound of a palm across the abdomen resonates throughout the auditorium. A giggle turns into a short yelp, as pleasure turns into pain. Suddenly a very intimate setting is exposed to a public blind of its making.

What is now questioned as rehearsed, is a product of months of intensive labor where pain gets subverted into pleasure, ensuring that both the studio and the stage are places of trust for its users. This moment "transports us to a region where 'nothing' and 'something', 'life' and 'death', 'creation' and 'negation' reveal themselves as inextricably bound, bringing us to the very limits of language's possibilities.19

Image 3

17 Deleuze,

Gilles, and David Lapoujade. Two Regimes of Madness: Texts and Interviews, 1975-1995. (New York: Semiotext(E) ;, 2007) 24 Aldous. The Doors of Perception: And, Heaven and Hell. (London: Vintage, 2004) 34 19 Agamben, Giorgio. "On the Limits of Violence." Project MUSE: (Diacritics 39.4 ;2009) 109 18 Huxley,

Every act of trauma becomes associated with an act of magic. Layers of Wilhelm Reich's and Aleister Crowley's rituals are embedded in the contact that takes place on the stage. The stage becomes the only place where these highly intimate rituals may take a public form, fuelling the body.

The "self is something to be invented, worked upon, transformed, performed, rather than recognized or found."20

In this moment the apparatus of the threshold enables the marriage of the myth and the rite, where the "myth tells the story and the rite reproduces and stages it."21 What occurs is the creation of a new myth through the staging of the rite, the minute the same body that was slapped, leaves the stage and climbs into the audience. The lights come on and all the performers bring a little something to share with someone seated; a piece of clay, a book to read or a bottle of whiskey. This transgression of the threshold becomes an act of violence, but a violence that does not need to justify itself. This form of violence can be called generosity.

When the entire auditorium can fit within the (Berlin) wall, then the temperature of the ground begins to change. This haptic madness can only exist "between-­‐times, between-­‐moments" and between deaths.22

Artaud defines this moment as "this emotion, which communicates to the mind the shattering sound of matter". 23 This is the moment of ritual, which essentially is magic. The magic consists in all the bodies' arousal of "attention association processes" whilst "being deprived of information normally used to define the boundaries of the self". In turn this constructs "novel images of the self's relationship to the surrounding world."24 The theatre, very quickly begins to assume a new dimension, a new iteration of itself as a test-­‐site of a material. It is utter insanity, which suddenly becomes acceptable, for it cunningly operates within the implied norms and protocols of the invisible system that merely engenders the physical space one sits in. Nonetheless, there is the condition that the operation begins on stage, or from the stage.

The explosion of ritual causes the implosion of the user's immanent power within the theatre. Both performer and audience are users. The stage in turn becomes an extension of the apparatus via which the users are able to experience the small death within this new space, which one could now classify as the "institution for creative dying".25 The forms which begin to appear in this new space are entirely "bottomless, in the double sense that they only stand out against the most monotonous of nights, and that nothing can assign them their origin, their term and their nature."26

To recapitulate, what is a subject with body? It is a subject, which enters the theatre and becomes a body very aware of its constituency as either a spectator or performer. Once that threshold is abolished, as it is in both Pina Baush's and Meg Stuart's repertoire, the theatrical space becomes the apparatus via which the immanent power can implode. Once this implosion happens, via rituals of repetition, magic and madness, the subjects or users begin to redefine the complex system of relations within a hetero-­‐normative architectural body.

One must not also forget the protocols and norms that allow for the small death to occur. Within this context, whoever acts mad, cannot be processed by any legal jurisdiction, for with what certainty can the real be separated from play? There is always a facilitator, be it the director, or the choreographer, who instructs for the dissolution of the linear threshold, and the enabling of possession, the modern puppeteer, the shaman doctor, the schizophrenic judge. It is in this moment that the theatre becomes the secret clinic, where the caretaker, as the artist, becomes both the psychiatrist and the judge. The artist assumes the commanding power of the space, and of any infra-­‐ordinary behavior housed. As the bicameral mind begins to break down, the social script gets re-­‐written. But who then commands the artist? "Volition came as a voice that was in the nature of a neurological command, in which the command and the action were not separated, in which to hear was to obey."27 Of course one can simply walk out of the theatre, blissful of anything that has gone on, but if there is volition to endure through the apex of the insanity, perhaps a cognitive re-­‐organization will not seem as far away.

First comes the violent thrusting of the threshold, then the warmth of the generous beating hearts. Let us not forget what Mechthild teaches us, first comes the slap, and then the smile. “If the gesture is made under the necessary conditions and with the necessary force, this reverberation invites the organism, ... [Reaching it] directly and, in periods of neurosis and bare sensuality like the one in which we are immersed, of attacking this base sensuality by physical means which it cannot resist.”28

One must accept generosity as a necessary violence in order to reach any notion of the small death within the theatre. It is through experiencing the latter that one can begin to compare the difference between the immanence of power outside of the theatre and within it. Where else can bodies exercise such contingency of their own magic other than the threshold between the stage and the seats? In order to expand the threshold, one must first be aware of it, thus one must be able to witness the proscenium arch or its equivalent. If one looks at the threshold as the extended embodied prosthesis of the stage, our dispositif towards bio-­‐power, the theatre exists not as the theatre in that moment, but becomes the institution for creative dying. The only permanence to this model is the collapse of time, as the minute one leaves the theatre, he returns to the governing crisis left behind. What remains is but a trace of that area where language inverts on itself, and where culture, as we know it begins to shake. We enter into a "secret theatre of speechless monologue and prevenient counsel, an infinite mansion of all moods, musings, and mysteries, an infinite resort of disappointments and discoveries."29

20 Gratton, Johnnie, and Michael Sheringham, eds. The Art of the Project: Projects and Experiments in Modern French Culture. (New York: Berghahn, 2005)

213 21 Agamben,

Giorgio. Profanations. (New York: Zone, 2007) 75 Gilles, and David Lapoujade. Two Regimes of Madness: Texts and Interviews, 1975-1995. (New York: Semiotext(E) ;, 2007) 391 23 Artaud, Antonin, and Susan Sontag. Antonin Artaud, Selected Writings. (Berkeley: U of California, 1988) The Nerve Meter 24 Fuller, Robert C. Spirituality in the Flesh Bodily Sources of Religious Experience. (New York: Oxford UP, 2008) 78 25 Watts, Alan. The Book; on the Taboo against Knowing Who You Are. (New York: Pantheon, 1966) Accepting Death.

26 Foucault, Michel, and Jean Khalfa. History of Madness. (London: Routledge, 2006) 531 27 Jaynes, Julian. The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1990) 99 28 Artaud, Antonin, and Susan Sontag. Antonin Artaud, Selected Writings. (Berkeley: U of California, 1988) 258 29 Jaynes, Julian. The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1990) Introduction 22 Deleuze,

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Agamben, Giorgio. "What Is a Destituent Power?" Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 32 (2014): 65-74. Print.

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Jaynes, Julian. The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1990. Print.

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McKenna, Terence K. The Archaic Revival: Speculations on Psychedelic Mushrooms, the Amazon, Virtual Reality, UFOs, Evolution, Shamanism, the Rebirth of the Goddess, and the End of History. San Francisco, Calif.: HarperSanFrancisco, 1991. Print.

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Images Cited

1Krauskopf,

Karl Heinz. Push Me Pull You. Digital image.Http://www.theartsdesk.com/dance/auf-­‐dem-­‐gebirge-­‐hat-­‐man-­‐ein-­‐ geschrei-­‐geh%C3%B6rt-­‐tanztheater-­‐wuppertal-­‐sadlers-­‐wells.

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2

Kaufmann, Ursula. MECHTHILD GROSSMANN ZUM SECHZIGSTEN. Digital image. PINA BAUSCHS WILDGRUBER. Waz, Nov. 2008.

Web. <http://waz.m.derwesten.de/dw/incoming/pina-bauschs-wildgruber-id46709.html?service=mobile>.

3

Janke, Iris. „Until Our Hearts Stop“ Ist Hochemotional. Digital image. Ein Intimes Spiel Mit Nähe. Ruhrtriennale, 18 Sept. 2015. Web. <http://www.ruhrnachrichten.de/leben-und-erleben/kultur-region/Ruhrtriennale-Ein-intimes-Spiel-mit-Naehe;art1541,2822958>.