Dramaturgy of Form

Performing Verse in Contemporary Theatre

Kasia Lech

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9780429535673
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Mezzi di comunicazione e arti performative
• Subtopic: Teatro

Dramaturgy of Form examines verse in twenty-first-century theatre practice across different languages, cultures, and media. Through interdisciplinary engagement, Kasia Lech offers a new method for verse analysis in the performance context.

The book traces the dramaturgical operation of verse in new writings, musicals, devised performances, multilingual dramas, Hip Hop theatre, films, digital projects, and gig theatre, as well as translations and adaptations of classics and new theatre forms created by Irish, Spanish, Nigerian, Polish, American, Canadian, Australian, British, Russian, and multinational artists. Their verse dramaturgies explore timely issues such as global identities, agency and precarity, global and local politics, and generational and class stories. The development of dramaturgy is discussed with the focus turning to the new stylized approach to theatre, whose arrival Hans-Thies Lehmann foretold in his Postdramatic Theatre, documenting a turning point for contemporary Western theatre.

Serving theatre-makers, scholars, and students working with classical and contemporary verse and poetry in performance contexts; practitioners and academics of aural and oral dramaturgies; voice and verse-speaking coaches; and actors seeking the creative opportunities that verse offers, Dramaturgy of Form reveals verse as a tool for innovation and transformation that is at the forefront of contemporary practices and experiences.

1
Heteroglossia of verse and its dramaturgical potential

“Verse” derives from the Latin versus, which means “a line or row”, especially “a line of writing”; the term verse comes “from turning to begin another line”, in Latin vertĕre (to turn). In Middle English, “verse” also denoted “reinforced by”. The idea of verse as a reinforcing agent directly links with the enhanced heteroglossic quality of verse and its internal dialogization facilitated by verse structure, which is this chapter’s main focus. Verse structure is a pattern of verse lines and formal elements that support the line arrangement like rhyme, enjambment, metre, and so on, and is a defining feature of verse that differentiates it from other modes of language (Attridge 225; Dłuska 21–22, 41; Bradford 15). Verse structure, as this chapter explains, underlies the potential of verse to influence key theatre elements (e.g. time, space, stage personae, actors) and their interrelationships. Thus, verse may reveal “the structure of the meaning” of the dramatic world, which is closer to the traditional concept of dramaturgy (Van Kerkhoven). It can also stage theatrical negotiations, conversions, and collisions; introduce multilingual and translingual contexts; and bring out the aspects of the process and performance, which are primary concerns of contemporary dramaturgies (Caplan 142; Trencsényi and Cochrane xii). Verse structure, as presented in this chapter, is also a platform for activating the audience, engaging them in the co-creation of performance (see “porous dramaturgy” in Turner and Radosavljević), and is “a tool of inquiry” connecting it even more strongly to today’s dramaturgical practices (Romanska, “Introduction” 6–7). In all these cases, verse structure mobilizes “production of and reflection on communication of communications to society about society”, as Janek Szatkowski has recently defined dramaturgy (6).

The dramaturgical consequences of verse structure are particularly suited for contemporary global theatre practice. By focusing on verse structure, my argument also echoes Magda Romanska’s prediction that “Drametrics, a combination of mathematics and dramaturgy, will become more and more prominent” in contemporary theatre and particularly in dramaturgical practices as theatre becomes entangled in algorithms of artificial intelligence, big data, and the Internet of Things (“Drametrics” 446). The chapter brings together voices from linguistics, poetry, literature, and theatre studies working in different languages and contexts. Their combined perspectives – discussed in the first part of the chapter – underlie the subsequent discussion on the dramaturgical potential of heteroglossia in verse for a hypothetical staging and its live performance.

Heteroglossia and verse

Mikhail Bakhtin defines heteroglossia as “another’s speech in another’s language” that thereby has the ability to express “simultaneously two different intentions” or worldviews that are “dialogically interrelated” (“Discourse” 324–25). Such a “double-voiced discourse” can facilitate multiple contradictions that deprivilege and reinvigorate language, increasing its self-consciousness in relation to an individual as well as to broader political, linguistic, social, and cultural contexts (Bakhtin, “Discourse” 324–26; Holquist 427). This makes heteroglossia a fascinating concept, and many scholars have interpreted it for different fields. In theatre, it was most famously Marvin Carlson who argued against “Bakhtin’s attempt to deny heteroglossia to the theatre” (Speaking 4). Carlson’s point was that heteroglossia is central for contemporary global theatre practice, as it reflects conditions of living in a globalized society (Speaking 18). In my application of Bakhtin’s term, however, I follow its recent reading by Cristina Marinetti and Helena Buffery, who, in contrast to Carlson, both differentiate between Bakhtin’s polyphony as “multi-language consciousness” and experience (including its representation) (Bakhtin, “Discourse” 11; Marinetti 4; Buffery 151) and heteroglossia. Marinetti proposes to interpret heteroglossia as “a subversive space where linguistic and performative practices challenge the monologic lens of authorial vision”, facilitating “the juxtaposition of different and often contrasting voices and racialized bodies” (4). This definition is particularly suited to verse and its dramaturgical potential.¹

Verse, as a mode of language, is organized not only by rules of grammar or syntax, but also by verse structure, to repeat: the patternized use of the verse line and within it, formal principles including metre, rhyme, and enjambment. A pattern is a key term here. Polish prosodist Maria Dłuska urges that none of these formal features practised on a once-off basis in a text can create verse. Only a repetition of these features, “through which the division into lines is imposed upon language, equips these elements with verse-creating abilities”. This repetitiveness results in compositional predictability, marks Dłuska (Próba 21–22), which facilitates increased heteroglossia of verse and its dialogic potential.

The patternized verse structure, in addition to syntax, organizes the meanings and the thoughts in verse, but also heightens the rhythm of verse when it is spoken (aloud or not). Aristotle considered these secondary after plot, thought, and character (Aristotle 11–12; Ross 298). This anti-Aristotelian aspect of my analysis will play an extra important part in the final chapter, which explores the formal boundaries of verse, drama, and theatre. Rhythm is a problematic and ambiguous term, and Dłuska calls it partly worthless; at the same time, she admits that it is almost impossible not to use this term at all when speaking about verse (Próba 11–13). I use the idea of rhythm because it helps one to understand what happens with verse structure when it moves from paper into the realm of speech and, consequently, performance. Verse rhythm is energy generated by the speaker’s voice (real or virtual – i.e. heard in one’s head while reading in silence) and by verse structure. The speaker generates this energy through his or her voice; at the same time, this energy runs through verse structure; it becomes restricted and patternized by verse structure. Derek Attridge argues that verse structure heightens “our attention to its [verse’s] rhythms” (5). As a result, in a live performance situation, both rhythmical and lexical levels can communicate with the audience independently and through interaction with each other; the heightened rhythm of verse emphasizes these interactions and the tensions evoked by them.

I am not alone in thinking that formal elements of verse can generate, at the very least, additional meanings to the lexical level of verse. This has been well established in studies of poetry and verse drama (e.g. Attridge 12–18; Dłuska Próba 63–108; Lech, “Metatheatre”; Morra 164; Wright 249–63). However, I take this further by arguing for the heteroglossic consequences of these interactions and their potential to facilitate contemporary dramaturgical practices. To begin, it is helpful to look at how lexical and rhythmical levels interact in verse. This frames the upcoming discussions, explains how verse and verse structure are analyzed in this book, and clarifies some of the key terminologies.

Lexical and rhythmical levels of verse

The pattern of lines facilitates the interactions between lexical and rhythmical levels of verse through its various appearances, disappearances, and variations that are easier to notice the stronger the pattern. For example the basic pattern of lines can be reinforced by a constant number of syllables in lines, for instance intertwining five-syllable and 12-syllable lines (syllabic verse). Metre, based on binary oppositions such as stressed and unstressed or short and long syllables, is another element strengthening the verse pattern. Metrical verse, called accentual-syllabic or syllabotonic verse, has a recognizable pattern created by count of syllables and, in most modern languages, stressed and unstressed syllables arranged into metrical feet like iamb (xX), trochee (Xx), or amphibrach, (xXx), where a capital “X” marks rhythmically strong syllables. These stresses may or may not agree with the grammatical stress – this is one of the reasons for verse analysis being a subjective process. Another variation is an accentual or tonic verse, where the pattern is created by a constant number of stresses or beats, regardless of the numbers of syllables per line. The number of syllables within the stress unit and the place of a beat can also change, as opposed to metrical feet, wherein these are more or less constant. Finally, free verse relies mostly on verse lines that are not supported by linguistic units like syllable or stress counts.

In any of these types of verse, the pattern can be additionally strengthened or broken by rhymes, caesuras, and enjambments. Caesuras, as an indication of a small pause within a line, usually occur in lines longer than eight syllables. A caesura may be additionally marked by punctuation, but it does not require any punctuation to occur. Enjambments are caused by lack of overlapping between the line ending and the syntax organization: it is a break in a clause caused by the end of a line, a pause imposed in the middle of a clause, which would not otherwise be there. Enjambment or caesura pauses may bring attention to the words they split.

This traditional, Western taxology of verse by no means exhausts the possibilities of rhythmical patterns. Upcoming chapters will show that contemporary theatre practice uses verse rhythm to challenge Western traditions of verse and verse drama; and it even questions whether the line is necessary to create the linguistic energy of verse and heteroglossia that it facilitates. However, while recognizing its Western roots and overly clinical perspective, the explained terminology of verse and methodology it facilitates – so-called scansion – provide a useful point of departure for understanding how verse structure, and verse rhythm by extension, generate meanings. In other words, I begin by looking at verse structure as a sign system, following Marvin Carlson’s argument that semiotics provides “an effective starting point” and “basic orientation” for approaching new theory in a performance context (“Semiotics” 11).

The final stanza of Eavan Boland’s “Anorexic”, based on accentual verse, is a good example of verse structure generating meaning before I move on to the context of verse in theatre that adds further layers to verse and its patterns. In my approach to scansion, I am indebted to Derek Attridge’s function of rhythm in poetry (11–18), Maria Dłuska’s works on prosody (Próba, Odmiany), I. A. Richards’s work on rhythm and its power of communicating (“Rhythm”, “Science”), and the teaching of Mirosława Lombardo and Jacek Przybyłowski. Boland’s poem’s subject is an anorexic, talking about her female body that she disassociates from and tries to punish and expunge through self-starvation. She describes this body as falling

into |forked| dark,	Xx | X | X
into| python | needs	Xx | Xx | X
heaving |to hips | and breasts	Xx | xX | xX
and lips and heat	x X x X
and sweat and fat and greed. (Boland 76)	x X x X x X

Boland’s lines are created by three stresses each, but the pattern changes in the final lines, when metrical feet (iambs) take over. Verse structure marks the importance of “into” (additionally repeated), “heaving”, “hips”, and “breasts” to create the image of the female body being drawn into inescapable alignment with heaving. This body is described as a “python”, implying both its danger and its insatiability, additionally suggested by “needs” and “lips”, as a symbol of “greed”, through which the body heaves “heat”, “sweat”, and “fat”. The appearance of an iambic metre in the final two lines reinforces the pattern of verse structure, particularly in the final line with its three iambs. This results in the “sweat”, “fat”, and “greed” almost being “screamed at” the reader from the page. This oppressive advantage of the last line corresponds well with Boland’s poem, which addresses the body as experienced by the anorexic, simultaneously disavowed and all-encompassing.

Boland’s verse structure creates a rhythm that can be also associated with the rhythm of vomiting; a double contraction happens after the first and second stress, while the release (and the actual vomiting) happens on the third stress. In the fourth and fifth lines, when accentual rhythm changes into accentual-syllabic, the vomiting happens on every iamb as in time the rhythm of vomiting speeds up and becomes more regular. The rhythm of this verse not only can be related to “heaving”; it also creates a stronger link between the experience of the body and the action, generally accepted as disgusting. In so doing, it strengthens the information communicated otherwise in the poem on how the anorexic sees their own body. Verse rhythm provides a conclusion to the poem through the monotonous rhythm of iambic heaving in the final lines, suggesting that heaving is the only thing left for this body.

It should be clear by now how verse structure can generate meanings and how its interaction with the lexical level of verse contributes to the overall experience of verse. In verse drama, the search for patterns goes beyond the lines’ arrangements. It needs to consider theatre-specific elements such as the verse of a single character or a group of characters, various dramatic spaces or temporal periods. The forthcoming section takes my consideration of verse structure as a semiotic system further. I argue that verse structure interacts with other semiotic systems operating within the text and, in live performance, the mise-en-scène. The focus is on how verse structure interacts with key theatre elements (e.g. time, space, stage personae, actors) and their interrelationships. This is possible because verse structure links with the actor’s ambiguity as a performer and stage persona and can accomplish the core functions of theatre speech and thereby create a heteroglossic quality of verse, facilitating its dramaturgical operations. To explain the actor’s ambiguity and its link to dramaturgy, I follow Bert O. States’s advice and allow a phenomenological angle into this semiotic discussion (7–9). Afterwards, I will look at my second point about the two-layered communication in verse.

Verse structure, actor, and stage persona

Bert O. States highlights the ambiguity of the actor’s identity on the stage: she or he is to be perceived both as performer and character (understood here phenomenologically as a persona that, through the body of the actor, may seem to exist on the stage). The weaker the illusion of actuality generated by the performance, the more highlighted is this ambiguity (States 119). Jerzy Limon argues that illusion in the theatre consists in the audience not distinguishing scenic speech (delivered by the actor) from the speech (or the thoughts, and so on) of the stage persona (Piąty 74–77). Limon stresses that this “overlapping” does not happen in verse performance, as the spectator recognizes the rules of literature (verse structure) that construct and organize the actor’s speech. This lack of overlapping between the speech of the actor and the persona highlights the theatricality of the performance (Piąty 76–77) and, following States’s argument, highlights the ambiguity of the actor’s identity.

To take this further, verse structure can remind the audience that the speech they hear is not created by the actor who delivers it, highlighting the virtual presence of the playwright and their writing, and thereby emphasizing the tension between writing (the text) and orality (actor’s performance). This, in turn, opens avenues for dramaturgy to ask important meta-questions about the nature of theatre, its texts, and the broader cultural landscape. According to Erica Fischer-Lichte, a...