Theatre, unlike many contemporary art forms, is one that could survive without the use of any technology. And yet, it has constantly had to adopt and develop in order not to be outdated and outrun by those art forms that go hand-in-hand with technologies. In contrast to this, the present time is seeing the category ‘vintage’ slowly but surely slide from alternative to mainstream with consistently similar Instagram feeds packed with app-edited light leaks layered over digitally taken photos. Similarly, one of the charms that theatre could keep as the hidden (and persisting) joker is its almost stale smell of “old” that can be seen as exotic in a world of new and indeed very rapid change.
This August, in Stockholm’s up-to-date culture, where the majority seems very well gadget-equipped, Ingmar Bergman International Theatre Festival celebrates what would have been the big director’s 100th birthday, crossbreeding city’s modern energy with the historical and cultural heritage that dates from times before the “new” media appeared in the theatre.
Declaring video art as “new” is rather passé, however, when comparing the long history of theatre to a form that is barely a century old, the art of moving image can still be considered as “new”. The use of video projection in theatre performances is not a practice that has come to the stage yesterday. However, due to the (possible) lack of incorporation of new media studies in schools' theatre curriculum, theatre directors seem to have a grumpy relationship with those it in their shows, at least when taken into consideration of several performances at this festival.
One of the performances that was tightly connected to this years festival, is one that;
- Was produced by the host Royal Drama Theatre and premiered at the festival,
- Has opened the festival, which served as the initial framing of this year’s festival,
- Was, unlike many other host theatre’s productions, not based on Bergman’s work.
This was Falk Richter’s Safe.
In Safe, Richter explores the loneliness of young adults and middle-aged Swedish society, their alienation and detachment from each other, but not from themselves. This feeling of “distant” is brought across by numerous, thoughtful monologues (with the stress on mono) and the collective scenes dialogues that work more as individual acts of speech, with the reactions of those spoken to often missing. The set design, composed of a single house’s construction with no walls, delivers the feeling of a wide, blank and cold space that stands between the characters. The video projection of shared housing imposed over the stage house puts it in a social context, bringing its characters into an extensive community, which then, juxtaposed, emphasises their individuality.
As much as this has a successful impact, the use of the video projections unfortunately does not end there. Instead of using video projections to complete or strengthen the narrative, Richter moves on to explain the narrative literally by written messages in the videos. Besides verbally mentioning Netflix as the consolation to one’s burden, suggesting it is one of the patterns that leads to isolation, the director chooses to show a guy who “acts crazy” in front of his screen, with the recognisable red letters that spell “NITEFLIX” blinking over his face. This is further followed by large, in-your-face writing “How did we get into this mess”. With this being one of the main question of the entire play, having it actually written becomes unnecessary underlining that makes use of this video projection redundant.
In Suzan Osten’s Fenix, this redundancy is heightened. Not only is not necessary, nor does it completes or stresses certain moments in the story, instead adding to the confusion. The audience is never given the information about which female face is in the period costume and wig in the background circle-shaped projection and the narrative does not offer any key for this understanding. As it does not accompany the biography of 20th century Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva that Fenix presents, this decision of the director seems like an imprudent manner of being “modern” based on using “new” media techniques. In this way, new media would only add to the play’s attractive and compelling aesthetics, however, it comes without any other purpose and becomes therefore the play’s drawback instead.
In contrast, being modern for the sake of being modern turns out to have possible validation in Erik Holstrom’s monodrama, The Last Child. Featuring Rakel Bener Gajdusek as a lonely knight and hopelessly romantic child, it is almost entirely built on the new technologies. It features scenes of “solo performances” by the video-projections comprised of live iPhone video shootings and a series of selfies. Apart from the use of the Gajdusek’s voice (in which the actress is often sitting in the chair with her back to the audience) the director mostly uses video projection as a narrative tool. Instead of being used to accompany or strengthen certain points in the performance, this new media becomes a narrator in itself, providing a sufficient mean of expression.
This may come as a problem when seen from a different perspective, questioning the “theatricality” and “theatrical” artistic value of the theatre play almost entirely based on the new media. However, another aspect to be taken into consideration - is this performance as part of Young Dramaten, the festival host's youth theatre programme for younger audiences (this one in particular: aged 13+). Going back to Stockholm’s (and world’s, if having a broader context) well gadget-equipped society, youngsters are now brought up on these same gadgets, using their iPhone cameras as a mean of self-expression. In terms of targeting a younger audience, these tools serve a new purpose for theatre, these new technologies serving as a lure for harder-to-reach youth that is “tricked” to fall for theatre by their own “weapons”.
Beside these mentioned, video projection and animation have both been used in other performances (Roma Armee, Hearing) presented at the festival. However, with the festival hosting and co-producing performances without any trace of the new media (Rite), it seems that wide presence of video projections at this year's edition is an insight into the obviously ubiquitous theatre trend, rather than a festival selection's statement.