Chapter 1
Drama, Dramatherapy and anthropology
The Senoi Temiars of Malaysia regularly perform rituals for the maintenance of health as well as the curing of physical, social and supernatural manifestations of ill-health. Their preventative and curative séances are stimulated by, and enacted through, dreams, dance, music, drama and trance media, imbued with complementary themes of the erotic and ascetic, and an underlying aesthetic sense of creative performance.
(Jennings 1995: 1)
Sue Jennings, a leading, pioneering Dramatherapist and anthropologist, lived with the Senoi Temiars in the jungles of Malaysia for two years. She, along with Turner (1982) and Schechner (2003), has long been interested in the connection between anthropology and drama. As one of Britainâs leading Dramatherapists, she has specific interest in making anthropological connections with Dramatherapy. Not surprisingly there has always been a relationship between anthropology and Dramatherapy in the UK; anthropology was a core subject area in my Dramatherapy training at the University of Hertfordshire. There is also strong emphasis on the âritual approachâ within Dramatherapy in the Sesame training at the Central School of Speech and Drama in London. I have stated that this book is based on my empirical experiences within drama education and Dramatherapy; this chapter is framed within this context. I will therefore explore the connections, similarities and differences between anthropology, drama and Dramatherapy. I will look at the significance of these connections and how they link and relate to the main focus of this book â the differences and overlaps between drama and Dramatherapy.
If anthropology is âthe study of mankind, its societies and customs and evolution of manâ1 then ritual, Grassat suggests, is even more complex. It holds a dual purpose, âin many rituals, the sacrificial act assumes two opposing aspects, appearing at times as a sacred obligation to be neglected at grave peril, at other times as a sort of criminal activity entailing perils of equal gravityâ (1977: 1). He believes that ritual is a way of managing the violent aspects of human behaviour within society in a controlled and responsible way, and that ritual sacrifices have served to allow communities to protect themselves from violence (1977: 8). Jennings states that ârituals assist us to know who we are and when we are, as well as giving boundaries to the journeys of the dramatic imaginationâ (1995: 8). Schechnerâs view is similar to that of Jennings: that dramatic ritual provides safe boundaries. He feels that âat its deepest level this is what theatre is about, the ability to frame and control, to transform the raw into cooked, to deal with the most problematic (violent, dangerous, sexual, taboo) human interactionsâ (2003: 191). If ritual is about dealing with the problematic and the difficult in a safe and protective way, it could be argued, perhaps, that it has a similar language and philosophy to drama and in particular Dramatherapy.
Theatre and ritual
The historical connection between ritual and drama is contentious and much debated. Rozik (2002) has attempted to re-think the more traditional, linear, Darwinian view of the direct connections between ancient ritual and drama. He discusses that people generally assume that drama derives from âDionysiac ritual and Christian theatreâ (2002: X) and that it is almost impossible for modern thinkers to completely and fully escape from the perspective that ancient rituals follow a linear path to drama and theatre. He concludes that there is a flaw in the modern understanding of the roots of drama. âTraces of the origins of theatre cannot be found in recurrent features of narratives, mythical or otherwise, because worlds (real or fictional) and media, including theatre, are independent of each otherâ (2002: 336). This suggests that, because each of these forms is an individual and independent âmediumâ, they have separate identities and cannot have the same roots. I would agree to an extent; however I would argue that, although they have inherent dissimilarities, ritual and theatre have relational connections with each other.
For Victor Turner, having theatrical roots within his family led him to see the world from a theatrical perspective. In From Ritual to Theatre (1982) he suggests that some sort of drama appeared to âeruptâ from the everyday fabric of social life. The scientist in him compared these âeveryday relationshipsâ with the âtaxonomicâ relations among actors (their kinship ties, structural positions, social class, political status, and so forth)â (1982: 9). Jennings, on the other hand, not only had theatrical and scientific perspectives, but also a Dramatherapeutic framework for her time in the Malaysian jungle. She was careful not to allow the stereotype of the therapist to get in the way and was concerned with the interplay âbetween play, drama, theatre and ritualâ (1995: xxviii). Jennings also seems to have a slightly more subtle understanding of how the different âmediaâ fit together, which is more akin to Rosikâs assertion:
To suggest that ritual and theatre are separate forms is to miss the essential nature of the phenomena ⊠I maintain that the terms ritual, drama and theatre are all means of trying to describe the various forms of larger than life representations involving dominant cultural symbols, artistic media changes in role, in a designated space, set apart.
(Jennings 1995: 23)
This is similar to Turnerâs view that âliminalâ space is somehow set apart from âeverydayâ space. It is in this âset apart spaceâ that he suggests that the familiar becomes unfamiliar and the participant is able to have fresh perspective. This brings us closer to thinking about what Dramatherapy might be; from a western perspective it is one way of allowing individuals to describe, represent and understand aspects of their life from a fresh perspective.
Arnold Van Gennepâs Rites of Passage (1960) shares similarities with the Dramatherapy process. Turner describes Van Gennepâs work as having three distinct phases within the ritual format: 1) âThe Separationâ, often described as the young boy leaving home on a journey; 2) âTransitionâ, sometimes described as having a challenge, which turns the child into a man; and then 3) â(Re) incorporationâ, returning to the village to take on the role of a man (Turner 1982: 24).2 This is similar to the developmental phases within a Dramatherapy session: the warm-up, the main activity and the de-rolling followed by discussion. The transformative element is similar to one of Jonesâ nine core processes in Dramatherapy: âtransformationâ (1996a: 119). Jones feels that just as there is a transformational element within drama and theatre with actors taking on roles or characters this is also true of Dramatherapy. Turner feels that moving from one social status to another requires, in parallel to this, a movement through physical or geographic space, which are akin to the pre-liminal and post-liminal states as originally expressed by Van Gennep. Terence S. Turner (1977: 54) proposes that Victor Turnerâs formulation of Van Gennepâs rites of passage is âtransformationâ that occurs at âthe pivotal pointâ of a liminal phase. Therefore the transformation is the central mechanism that allows the individual to move through the liminal space from the pre to post liminal phase.
Dramatherapy and ritual
As a major writer on Dramatherapy, Jones has been critical of some perspectives of ritual within a Dramatherapy context. He states: âSome have argued that the basic assumptions behind Dramatherapy of a fixed structure with active participation can be paralleled with the psychological and emotional functions of ritualâ (1996a: 250). There has been much debate about the use of ritual within Dramatherapy. For example the Dramatherapy training at Roehampton University offers a âritual theatre modelâ approach to Dramatherapy.3 Jones alternatively suggests: âDramatherapy has been too quick to claim other cultural practices as its own; too eager to draw parallels between itself and ritual. Dramatherapy is not ritual. The dramatherapist is not a shamanâ (1996a: 250).
Clare Schrader (2012) presented the first book on ritual approaches to Dramatherapy. She states:
Ritual Theatre enables its participants to inhabit many aspects of themselves, to free their spirit, and to claim their power. It demands that participants and practitioner alike enjoy the richness of archetypes, symbols and ancient wisdom, because these elements will transform you both. Ritual theatre will by degrees lead those that are willing and ready to âput themselves in accord with natureâ.
(Schrader 2012: 41)
These contrasts show that there is still debate within the Dramatherapy profession around the purpose and use of ritual within its training and theory. As Jones suggests, it may be too easy for the profession to latch onto other theoretical frameworks and use them as their own. Dramatherapist and cleric Roger Grainger states:
Words distort; eloquent words distort absolutely. Ritual does not depend on words but on the transforming action of lived life ⊠thus when dramatherapy deals with the fundamental longings of the human soul, it speaks the language of religion, even though nothing âreligiousâ is actually said.
(Grainger 1990: 27)
Thus Grainger is clearly stating that the practices of ritual, religion and therapy are similar and use similar, often non-verbal, vocabulary, but they are not the same.
Liminality
Although I have already stated that we should be cautious about readily utilising the language of other disciplines, if we consider Dramatherapy from an anthropological perspective it will allow the more developed language of anthropology to shed conceptual light on the processes of Dramatherapy.
Liminality, according to Turner, âmay involve a complex sequence of episodes in sacred space-time, and may also include subversive and ludic (or playful) eventsâ (1982: 26). The idea of set time and space is central to Dramatherapy, where time is also set apart from daily life. The client or group meet the therapist usually at the same place and time each week. If the relationship between the therapist and client is central then the meeting in that space could be claimed to create a special or âsacredâ space. Turnerâs ideas of âplayfulâ or âsubversiveâ events being carried out within this space bear parallels to Dramatherapy, where the notion of play is central. He suggests that the liminal, literally means a threshold, doorway or crossing place (1982: 25) from âlimenâ â a place that is neither one nor the other, a space separate or apart from the world around. Turner discusses that in a liminal phase there is often disconnection from the main group â as, for example, in Van Gennepâs Rites of Passage. This parallels dramatic distance in Dramatherapy as described by Jones, allowing space for the client to stand back from difficult material by using drama through metaphor or symbol. This draws a parallel between actual (social) space and psychological space â the distance in one symbolically re-enforces the distance in the other.
Within liminal space and time, Schechner describes âcommunitasâ as occurring (2003: 128) at its centre. He states this is âecstatic levellingâ in which everything merges together into one. Turner originally describes this as a âflow between or among individualsâ (1982: 58). Schechner uses the term transformative time. Parallels can be further drawn between anthropology and Dramatherapy, where Jones points to a similarity to Schechnerâs view that transformation involves âthe displacement of anti-social/injurious behaviours by ritual gestures and displaysâ (Schechner 1995: 119). Jones (1996a: 102) discusses that involvement in dramatic activity within Dramatherapy allows a shift to occur for a client to re-engage with the emotional and creative aspects of themselves. This appears similar to the âflowâ Turner originally describes when he discusses âcommunitasâ, the central, luminal moment when all boundaries and barriers appear to break down within the ritual process.
Embodying complex social and cultural acts is often used in the simple gift of âgivingâ. Nicholson suggests a similarity between the act of theatre and the act of giving gifts, âthe experience of making theatre and the experience of the gift are special forms of communication through which personal relationships and feelings are dramatisedâ (2005: 164). Nicholson feels the social complexities around giving and receiving gifts connect with the ambiguities, ethics and boundaries of delivering applied drama. Nicholson also states that âethical issues relating to the praxis of applied drama may be found in the conducts laid down by both educational research and dramatherapyâ (2005: 157). In Dramatherapy the âgiftâ is often used dramatically as an exercise at the end of a session when each group member places their hands into a box and takes out an imaginary gift, which they are encouraged to either give to another group member, or keep for themselves. Nicholsonâs idea of the complexity of gift philosophy and its social contextualisation is therefore used practically in Dramatherapy. Distanced and dramatised, it allows a containing space at the end of a Dramatherapy session where gifts are shared both consciously and unconsciously on an intra-psychic level.
Comparison
Grainger (1995) explores the connectedness between drama, religion and healing. He is of the opinion that âtherapies retain the shape of the rite of passage because it is the inalienable shape of transformationâ (1995: 60). Therefore a comparison of a ritual and of Dramatherapy practice might show the similarities and connectedness but also the distinct differences between the two.
Schechner (2003: 112) describes a year-long festival that took place in Papua New Guinea, which culminated in a two-day event called the âPig Kaikoâ or pig dance. The cycle of individual festivals lasted as long as it took to raise enough pigs for the tribes to eat. It consisted of a series of 15 dances involving 13 local tribes, hosted by the Tsembaga. The purpose of the festival was to ensure there were enough pigs for people to live on; pigs were to be killed and eaten at the end of the festival as a celebration. The festival has a deeper and more profound social meaning. As Grassat suggested, it is also a way of dealing with aggression and danger. The visitors from other tribes arrive dressed to fight and wearing âfight packagesâ. Their arrival is a fight that is turned into an entertainment â a dance. During the festival, bartering occurs between the tribes, gifts are given by the visiting tribes, and pig meat is later shared by the Tsembaga with their visitors. Potential violence is sublimated with dance and barter between neighbouring tribes and allowing tribes to survive by sharing sustenance. Through this structured ritual, Schechner states: âwhat starts as theatre ends as communionâ (2003: 116). The dance and entertainment act as a highly effective ritual to keep the peace between potential warring tribes, which allows for social communion, barter and sustenance. All of this is done cyclically based around the rearing of pigs.
By way of comparison, I offer here the story of a client of mine (Holmwood 2005)4. Mary (not her real name) was a woman in her mid-thirties who had severe learning disabilities and challenging behaviour. Mary had no speech but a love of music and song. She would express her distress using a range of self-injurious behaviours, which would include banging her head, attempting to remove her clothes, lashing out, scratching and biting. Mary would particularly become distressed whenever words connected to âendingâ were used. I worked with Mary in a unit for adults with severe learning disabilities and challenging behaviours. She was my client for two distinct phases with a gap of a year and a half in between.
At the beginning of our first phase of work, sitting in a room with me and listening to music was as much as she could tolerate. I later used hand puppets to tell simple stories about Mary going for a walk with her mother. Although she no longer lived with her mother they had a good relationship and she looked forward to her weekend visits. The stories dealt with both beginnings and endings. This work developed into a story I often told Mary as we walked up and down the corridor during our sessions (for many clients with severe learning disabilities the space was not the room or building but the proximity to the therapist). The story was of a princess in a faraway land who would rise every morning and visit her subjects in the city, towns and villages â they adored her. She would then return to the castle and attend a banquet to which all had been invited. Maryâs distress and fluctuating ability to communicate with or understand the world was dealt with within our story. This brought to a close the first phase of our work.
A year and a half later Mary began to work with me again. I used fairy tales to explore Maryâs relationship with the world aro...