Atmosphere
When we walk into a room we immediately sense or feel its atmosphere, that “something in the air.” It could be a welcoming atmosphere, a hostile atmosphere, a tranquil atmosphere, an oppressive atmosphere. We can immediately gauge the kind of atmosphere not because we are trying to comprehend it, but because we are feeling it. The few theatre scholars that describe theatrical atmosphere in some form2 predominantly draw from the writings of the German philosopher Gernot Böhme. Böhme notes that we tend to describe atmospheres in terms of their character.3 We can talk about the atmosphere’s character in meteorological or emotive terms or a conflation of both. Often meteorological terms are used to describe emotive atmospheres. The atmosphere in a space can be warm, cold, sultry, icy, sunny, dark or electric. If we are in a gloomy mood, the cheerful atmosphere of a room can change our mood in a kind of emotional contagion as we “attune” to the atmosphere. In the Heideggerian sense, when we are immersed in an atmosphere it can attune us “through and through.”4
Atmospheres are ethereal, yet people have no hesitation in describing them. A coffee shop can have a cosy atmosphere; a humid summer’s day can have a stifling atmosphere; parks can have a pleasant atmosphere; political rallies can have a stirring atmosphere. Phenomenologist Mikel Dufrenne argues that atmospheres have a “certain quality which words cannot translate but which communicates itself in arousing a feeling.”5 Atmospheres are felt, but they also manifest in a material form. They are, perhaps, the convergence of the physical air in a particular place and a mood or feeling. Atmospheres described by people are not, therefore, purely metaphoric or abstract, they also have physical qualities. They occupy spaces and they can be felt.
Atmospheres are considered to have three principle properties:6 they pour out spatially, they work in in-between spaces and they are felt bodily. If, as Böhme suggests, “[a]tmospheres pour out into, and thus, shape spaces,”7 then the theatre atmosphere is shaped by several entities, including people. While Erika Fischer-Lichte concentrates on how smells, lighting and sounds emanating from the stage or the auditorium create atmosphere in the theatre, she also suggests that the bodily co-presence of actors and audience members helps create atmosphere:8 the live presence of two groups of people, face to face across the footlights. Theatre lighting and sound designers are experts in creating atmosphere. Stuart Grant argues, however, that atmosphere requires “bodies to experience it [and] bring it forth.”9 Atmospheres are experienced spatially and bodily.
For Böhme, atmospheres float “in-between” things and their perceiving subjects.10 In the theatre, the gulf between audience members and actors is an in-between space. It can be highly charged and magnetic. Böhme describes atmospheres as “spheres of presence” with “ekstases” – Böhme’s re-articulation of Walter Benjamin’s auras – radiating out from them.11 When the actors and audience meet across the footlights, I suggest that the energies or ekstases radiating out of the two groups create that tension, spark, thrill and buzz of theatrical atmosphere. The magnetic attraction or repulsion in the collision of these ekstases enlivens the atmosphere in the in-between space between the actors and the audience. Konstantin Stanislavski argued that one essential element of the “dramatic state” experienced in the theatre “is produced by the atmosphere surrounding an actor on the stage and by the atmosphere in the auditorium.”12 It is the collision of these two atmospheres that creates the sensory tingle of liveness felt in the theatre that is akin to what I call the electric air.
It is important to note that, as Patrice Pavis cautions, audience members’ reading and understanding of atmospheres in the theatre can tend to take a “universalist” approach. “Rather,” he argues, atmospheres “encourage us to start out from an understanding of our multiform identities so we can then have a better appreciation of how these cultural, ethnic, sexual and economic identities influence the way we decipher atmospheres.”13 Or, I would argue, create atmospheres. The audience member’s mood and equilibrium at the time of viewing the production can not only affect their perception, and thus their reception of the theatrical event, it can also help to shape the atmosphere. Unfortunately, in his definitions of atmosphere, Pavis fails to include the actors and their labour in creating atmosphere in the theatre.
Actor and director Michael Chekhov, nephew of the Russian playwright Anton Chekhov, urged actors to be influenced by the atmosphere that surrounds them, contending that atmosphere can support and inspire creativity in the actor if they open themselves to it.14 Atmospheres became a working technique to evoke emotional responses in his actors. Chekhov’s use of atmospheres as a space-filling phenomenon pervaded the actor exercises he devised.15 He taught his actors that “[a]tmosphere exerts an extremely strong influence upon your acting […] The atmosphere urges you to act in harmony with it.”16 He also argued that atmosphere creates a nexus with the audience across the footlights: