The crgwllms 'Fire Triangle' Theory of Theatre
Wed, 15 May 2002, 04:16 pmcrgwllms16 posts in thread
The crgwllms 'Fire Triangle' Theory of Theatre
Wed, 15 May 2002, 04:16 pmSometimes on this board there have been arguments that questioned the "actor-centric" leanings of most of the points of view, and tried to give greater emphasis to other components, particularly the contribution by writers.
Anyone who has ploughed through my frequent ravings would realise that I have quite a respect for words and those who know how to manipulate them; but I still maintain that actors must unavoidably remain the centre of attention in theatre, above writers and everyone else.... except the audience.
The argument I have been developing to justify this is now my "Fire Triangle Theory" of Theatre.
When firefighters talk about a "fire triangle" they refer to a theoretic model with three equal sides that represent the three elements necessary to sustain a fire. The three sides are 'heat', 'oxygen', and 'fuel'. Take away any one of the three, and the fire will dissipate and cease to exist.
Sometimes you need a catalyst - usually a spark or ignition to generate the required amount of heat - but if the three elements are there in the correct proportions, you will have a fire. To extinguish it, remove any side of the triangle.
I think theatre operates under a similar model. The three sides to the triangle are "performers", "performance" and "audience". These are the minimum requirements to create theatre; remove any one of them and theatre ceases to exist.
The performance is the "heat". It is a pure, raw energy that exists in a particular space at a particular time. Without the performance, you merely have actors meeting an audience; it's not theatre.
The audience is the "oxygen". They fan the theatre production (...wonderful pun opportunity about "fans"...) and give it the life support it needs to exist. Starved of an audience, there is no theatre, it becomes simply a rehearsal.
Performers are the "fuel". They are the element that feeds theatre, and creates the tangible mass that emits that performance energy. (Some performers burn better, and create more heat, than others.) Without performers, theatre ceases to exist in the present. An audience can watch a performance that has already happened, but that's not theatre, it's a film.
The elements are interrelated and effect each other....the audience has an effect on both performers and performance; the performers effect the performance and the audience; and the performance influences audience and performer. The theatre event is live, dynamic, spontaneous, and can never be exactly recreated - just like the individual flame in a fire.
Under this definition, theatre does not require a venue. Theatre can happen in the classroom, in the street, at work; anywhere there are performers performing live to an audience. It includes a wide variety of genres, including dance, puppetry, live music concerts, or your uncle telling a joke at your Christmas dinner...all of these can be considered forms of "theatre". Sports events, while very similar in some regards, aren't the same as theatre because the game can be played and enjoyed by the players whether there is an audience or not. With or without the spectators, sport still has a purpose. Theatre without an audience is pointless.
Like a fire, there are many complex ways in which theatre can exist. Other elements can be introduced, but none of them are essential to the "theatre triangle". However, they nevertheless serve to focus and facilitate it:
The director - theatre can exist without directors, but they are like the person who builds the fire; striking the match and deciding when to pile more wood on, to keep the flame burning all night for maximum warmth, without it getting out of control.
The writer - theatre can also exist without writers, but they are like the person who invented matches, allowing the whole process to be created simply and efficiently, rather than just rubbing sticks together or waiting for lightning to strike. They are also responsible for whether the flame is created as a flickering candle or an oxy-acetylene blowtorch, depending on your heat requirements.
Designers and technicians - are responsible for containing the flame, making it visible to the eye, harnessing the energy to illuminate a particular subject, and framing it so we enjoy watching it and feeling its heat in safety.
Critics - are the ones who (after the fire has gone out) try to describe what the flickers of flame looked like, how well the fuel caught fire, and how efficiently, in their opinion, the fire consumed oxygen. What they saw in the embers, however, depends entirely on the particular angle from which they were looking, and whether or not the smoke blew in their eyes.
Arts funding bodies - are the ones who debate whether we should really be spending money on lighting fires anyway; can't you just keep warm by putting on an extra footy jumper?
Similar models probably exist for other artforms, in which the performer is much further down the scale, or not actually necessary. The three important elements of a novel or poem are the writer, the written words, and the reader, but time is no longer a constant in the equation, so it's not necessary to have all three present at the one time for the medium to work. The reader and the words don't need the presence of the writer, although his/her importance is implicitly acknowledged.
The actor and the writer are important in a film, but neither are absolutely essential. More important are the director, the camera operator, and the editor.
But in theatre, the importance of the actor is implicit in its definition:
performer, performance, audience.
Sorry guys, you're stuck with us.
Cheers,
Craig
[%sig%]
Anyone who has ploughed through my frequent ravings would realise that I have quite a respect for words and those who know how to manipulate them; but I still maintain that actors must unavoidably remain the centre of attention in theatre, above writers and everyone else.... except the audience.
The argument I have been developing to justify this is now my "Fire Triangle Theory" of Theatre.
When firefighters talk about a "fire triangle" they refer to a theoretic model with three equal sides that represent the three elements necessary to sustain a fire. The three sides are 'heat', 'oxygen', and 'fuel'. Take away any one of the three, and the fire will dissipate and cease to exist.
Sometimes you need a catalyst - usually a spark or ignition to generate the required amount of heat - but if the three elements are there in the correct proportions, you will have a fire. To extinguish it, remove any side of the triangle.
I think theatre operates under a similar model. The three sides to the triangle are "performers", "performance" and "audience". These are the minimum requirements to create theatre; remove any one of them and theatre ceases to exist.
The performance is the "heat". It is a pure, raw energy that exists in a particular space at a particular time. Without the performance, you merely have actors meeting an audience; it's not theatre.
The audience is the "oxygen". They fan the theatre production (...wonderful pun opportunity about "fans"...) and give it the life support it needs to exist. Starved of an audience, there is no theatre, it becomes simply a rehearsal.
Performers are the "fuel". They are the element that feeds theatre, and creates the tangible mass that emits that performance energy. (Some performers burn better, and create more heat, than others.) Without performers, theatre ceases to exist in the present. An audience can watch a performance that has already happened, but that's not theatre, it's a film.
The elements are interrelated and effect each other....the audience has an effect on both performers and performance; the performers effect the performance and the audience; and the performance influences audience and performer. The theatre event is live, dynamic, spontaneous, and can never be exactly recreated - just like the individual flame in a fire.
Under this definition, theatre does not require a venue. Theatre can happen in the classroom, in the street, at work; anywhere there are performers performing live to an audience. It includes a wide variety of genres, including dance, puppetry, live music concerts, or your uncle telling a joke at your Christmas dinner...all of these can be considered forms of "theatre". Sports events, while very similar in some regards, aren't the same as theatre because the game can be played and enjoyed by the players whether there is an audience or not. With or without the spectators, sport still has a purpose. Theatre without an audience is pointless.
Like a fire, there are many complex ways in which theatre can exist. Other elements can be introduced, but none of them are essential to the "theatre triangle". However, they nevertheless serve to focus and facilitate it:
The director - theatre can exist without directors, but they are like the person who builds the fire; striking the match and deciding when to pile more wood on, to keep the flame burning all night for maximum warmth, without it getting out of control.
The writer - theatre can also exist without writers, but they are like the person who invented matches, allowing the whole process to be created simply and efficiently, rather than just rubbing sticks together or waiting for lightning to strike. They are also responsible for whether the flame is created as a flickering candle or an oxy-acetylene blowtorch, depending on your heat requirements.
Designers and technicians - are responsible for containing the flame, making it visible to the eye, harnessing the energy to illuminate a particular subject, and framing it so we enjoy watching it and feeling its heat in safety.
Critics - are the ones who (after the fire has gone out) try to describe what the flickers of flame looked like, how well the fuel caught fire, and how efficiently, in their opinion, the fire consumed oxygen. What they saw in the embers, however, depends entirely on the particular angle from which they were looking, and whether or not the smoke blew in their eyes.
Arts funding bodies - are the ones who debate whether we should really be spending money on lighting fires anyway; can't you just keep warm by putting on an extra footy jumper?
Similar models probably exist for other artforms, in which the performer is much further down the scale, or not actually necessary. The three important elements of a novel or poem are the writer, the written words, and the reader, but time is no longer a constant in the equation, so it's not necessary to have all three present at the one time for the medium to work. The reader and the words don't need the presence of the writer, although his/her importance is implicitly acknowledged.
The actor and the writer are important in a film, but neither are absolutely essential. More important are the director, the camera operator, and the editor.
But in theatre, the importance of the actor is implicit in its definition:
performer, performance, audience.
Sorry guys, you're stuck with us.
Cheers,
Craig
[%sig%]
Re: fire insurance
Mon, 20 May 2002, 01:14 amThanks Tina....I'll take you up on that drink after a show sometime!
Regarding insurance...it's not necessarily an "extinguisher", but it can certainly be a "flame retardant".
When we did "After The Fair" at the Festival Fringe, we DID have firebreathers, knife throwers, and stiltwalkers at risk of falling on the audience,...and I was perched in a precariously high position with no safety wires. The Fringe, managing the venue, apparently has a public liability policy that should cover injuries caused to an audience member in the event of a mishap in the building. But there was no cover in place for if I fell, or if one of the other actors hurt themselves in a stunt.
Strictly speaking, it wasn't a co-op production; we were volunteer performers. Like most of you, we were doing it for the love of the project, not for any payment. (In a true co-op, all participants involved in the profit share are ALSO liable to share any debts). But in the absence of any contract, details like that are unclearly defined and only debated in the event of a dispute, when it's too late.
The cast had a large proportion of actors who frequently get other professional work. I had just signed a large professional contract for a job that would commence soon afterwards (this tour I am on now).
The concern was raised that if, for example, I happened to fall and injure myself - not only could I sue the production for medical costs, but for potential loss of income and professional damages if I missed the tour. Without insurance, the suit would have to be met by the production company, and without proper clauses in a non-existent contract, the cast could be held jointly responsible as if it was a co-op.
Certain members of the cast were most concerned because they obviously couldn't afford to contribute to such a payment, but they owned houses which could be considered seizable assets if the group was liable.
To the producer's (Not The Mama productions) credit, they forked out for the worker's comp insurance, and the production not only went ahead, but they won the Fringe Awards for best local production, and design.
Insurance is a necessary evil. The costs are scary, but the idea of what might happen without it was scarier.
My theory's definition for a "fire extinguisher" might be those Reality TV shows.... there are performances of a sort, and an audience, but the 'performers' are kind of "heat-retardant", and it kind of kills the spark of live theatre.
Cheers,
Craig
[%sig%]
Regarding insurance...it's not necessarily an "extinguisher", but it can certainly be a "flame retardant".
When we did "After The Fair" at the Festival Fringe, we DID have firebreathers, knife throwers, and stiltwalkers at risk of falling on the audience,...and I was perched in a precariously high position with no safety wires. The Fringe, managing the venue, apparently has a public liability policy that should cover injuries caused to an audience member in the event of a mishap in the building. But there was no cover in place for if I fell, or if one of the other actors hurt themselves in a stunt.
Strictly speaking, it wasn't a co-op production; we were volunteer performers. Like most of you, we were doing it for the love of the project, not for any payment. (In a true co-op, all participants involved in the profit share are ALSO liable to share any debts). But in the absence of any contract, details like that are unclearly defined and only debated in the event of a dispute, when it's too late.
The cast had a large proportion of actors who frequently get other professional work. I had just signed a large professional contract for a job that would commence soon afterwards (this tour I am on now).
The concern was raised that if, for example, I happened to fall and injure myself - not only could I sue the production for medical costs, but for potential loss of income and professional damages if I missed the tour. Without insurance, the suit would have to be met by the production company, and without proper clauses in a non-existent contract, the cast could be held jointly responsible as if it was a co-op.
Certain members of the cast were most concerned because they obviously couldn't afford to contribute to such a payment, but they owned houses which could be considered seizable assets if the group was liable.
To the producer's (Not The Mama productions) credit, they forked out for the worker's comp insurance, and the production not only went ahead, but they won the Fringe Awards for best local production, and design.
Insurance is a necessary evil. The costs are scary, but the idea of what might happen without it was scarier.
My theory's definition for a "fire extinguisher" might be those Reality TV shows.... there are performances of a sort, and an audience, but the 'performers' are kind of "heat-retardant", and it kind of kills the spark of live theatre.
Cheers,
Craig
[%sig%]
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