STREET ARTISTS IN EUROPE - Fondazione Fitzcarraldo
STREET ARTISTS IN EUROPE - Fondazione Fitzcarraldo
STREET ARTISTS IN EUROPE - Fondazione Fitzcarraldo
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Street Artists in Europe<br />
“problems with establishing, who has the right to the city’ and ‘transferring agora to the public<br />
media space” 449 .<br />
The second statement is especially crucial for further reflections. The Polish street theatre of the<br />
seventies, eighties and the beginning of the nineties continued the tradition started by the<br />
Akademia Ruchu Performance Group and Teatr Ósmego Dnia in the 1970s and 1980s of the<br />
20th century – let us remind here of the beginnings of the Biuro Podrózy Theatre and its<br />
unshaken Giordano Bruno or war stories of Bosnian Muslims during the war in Yugoslavia. It<br />
was a theatre which entered the agora, trying to establish at least its substitute in the ‘politically<br />
privatized’ city. Now the agora exists, but not in the real but virtual space, and the theatre is<br />
unable to enter it, because it will cease to be theatre (perhaps our standpoint in this issue is very<br />
principled, but we insist that in order for a theatre to exist one needs direct, and not only<br />
immediate, contact between performers and recipients). Here we think that the theatre lost this<br />
battle in a walk-over, placing safety of the presentation of artistic visions in isolated outdoor<br />
spaces over interaction with the chaotic space of the living street. In our opinion, street theatre<br />
simply withdrew from the fight with the Performance, which takes place daily. Upon entering<br />
the street, it would enter a reality already theatricised once, as remarked by Guy Debord:<br />
“Spectacle is currently a model of socially dominating life. It is an omnipresent confirmation of<br />
a choice once made (...).” 450 Thus, the street theatre must join this self-validation performance;<br />
or contrarily – must protect itself from its own presented doubts, alternative solutions in<br />
seemingly open spaces, but as a matter of fact isolated from the normal life of a city. As a result,<br />
theatre in the street space is used to reinforce our belief that ‘as a matter of fact we are all the<br />
same.’<br />
These circumstances, however, give birth to a communication situation, named ‘transmission<br />
ghetto.’ To illustrate it we will use the example of ‘The Ark’ by The Theatre of the Eighth Day,<br />
performed in Szczecin at midnight, at the aforementioned, well isolated from the city, university<br />
campus (because the ‘good working people’ must not be disturbed in their sleep, and the<br />
theatrical effects are best seen in ‘naturally darkened’ space, therefore, the performance cannot<br />
take place earlier). The very humanist message on behalf of millions of emigrants wandering the<br />
world was watched by a few hundreds of people, a significant part of whom was well<br />
acquainted with the art of The Theatre of the Eighth Day and without their performance was full<br />
of compassion for the wanderers. On the other hand, however, the extremely spectacular form of<br />
the performance, its theatricality, may easily cause its reception by the spectators at the pure<br />
aesthetic level, without considering the plot (especially that the subject matter of the<br />
performance is very faint and can be summarized in three sentences). The actors of the Teatr<br />
Strefa Ciszy (Zone of Silence Theatre, established in 1993) have become victims of such way of<br />
existence of theatre in open space, currently dominating in Poland. One proof is the<br />
‘communication defeat’ which they suffered in their latest, excellent and very wise,<br />
performance. “Learning to fly” seemingly uses a technique of free play with the audience - well<br />
mastered by the Strefa Ciszy theatre. At the beginning of the performance, the spectators are<br />
invited to sit on beds, and they are presented with numbered boards. It all looks like good fun.<br />
Even when it turns out that the beds are prisons, and the ushers – prison guards. The spectators<br />
in the play space are subject to ‘mild captivity’ – no one insults them (and if so, only slightly),<br />
they are only expected to do ‘funny’ and harmless acts, such as blowing up trashy, extremely<br />
red, heart-shaped, balloons, for which they get a reward of chips and pillows, on which they can<br />
comfortably sit. The people, amused by their subjection to captivity do not react (or perhaps do<br />
not notice) when one of them – the rebellious one - disappears behind a hospital screen. The<br />
449 Ibid.<br />
450 G. Debord: Society of Spectacle. Gdańsk, 1998, p. 12.<br />
306<br />
PE 375.307