ISO Theatre – Porto 2016: Krausian Satire as well as a Cabaret Slapstick

ISO Theatre – Porto 2016:
Krausian Satire as well as a Cabaret Slapstick

Between 22 and 31 May, 2016, one of the ISO Theatre (International Super Objective Theatre – the group name is an allusion to Stanislavsky’s notion of super-objective) meetings took place, this time in collaboration with the Portuguese National Theatre São João in Porto (Teatro Nacional São João do Porto).

© Susana Neves / TNSJ
ISO Theatre residency in Porto © Susana Neves / TNSJ

The ISO Theatre Group was established in 2012 under the auspices of the UTE (Union of European Theatres/Union des Théâtres de l’Europe) as a spontaneous response to the masterclasses, organized by the UTE Decentralized Academy. One of the first masterclasses was held in November 2012 in the Little Drama Theater in St. Petersburg (Малый драматический театр / the Maly Drama Theatre) under the guidance of Russian director Lev Dodin.

The idea of both interconnected projects – the ISO Theatre and the UTE Decentralized Academy – is based on the principle of creative exchange and sharing of experiences in the context of the tradition of European theater aesthetics and anthropologically oriented theatre discourse of contemporary Europe. The collaboration of both platforms is carried out within the network-programme of the UTE called Conflict Zones, which is supported by the Creative Europe Programme of the European Union).

The 2012 emergence of the ISO Theatre was articulated in A European Youth The ISO Manifesto, in which the artists formulated their pan-European ideological and artistic vision. At the birth of the ISO Theatre stood several young theatre practitioners from six European countries and Israel. Over the past four years, the group has undergone slight changes, and the solid core of the company was formed. Currently, the group consists of eight member countries (Bulgaria, France, Germany, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Greece and Israel/Palestine).

In Porto, the ISO Theatre group worked under the leadership of Nuno Carinhas, the artistic director of the National Theatre São João, Porto, and the Lisbon-based director Nuno M. Cardoso. The basis of the week-long workshop was the dramatic opus magnum written by the Austrian satirist, essayist, journalist, performer and, above all, visionary Karl Kraus (April 28, 1874, Jičín, now Czech Republic – June 12, 1936, Vienna): The Last Days of Mankind (first published as a series in K. Kraus’s journal Die Fackel – The Torch between 1918–1919)

Kraus’s Destruction of the World in the Black Magic of Wikisources and Postmodern Totality of Global Phrases

Karl Kraus wrote his Last Days of Mankind, a dramatic oeuvre in five acts with prologue and epilogue, between 1915–1918/19, i.e. in a close connection with the war events, which Kraus reflected in the work with his symptomatic, docudramatic satire.

Documentary character of this text lies in two aspects: (1) the text material is imbued with concrete, “annexed” reality of wartime events; (2) Kraus’s then heretically original artistic practice based on the dramatic montage of anonymous quotes from newspapers, war reports, proclamations of political and army officials or individuals representing cultural and artistic elites, as well as the speech patterns and phrases appropriated from the everyday, mostly Viennese, street life. The linguistic material, which drew on a wide array of contemporary public life and especially from its media discourse, provided Kraus a pre-text which he quite loosely assembled into a distinctive collage. However, the quoted anonymous excerpts remained literally faithful to the original. Needless to say that the statements of an endless line of characters, i.e. “mankind,” are either verbatim or loose quotes expropriated from the speeches of concrete individuals who are subjected to Kraus’s satirical subversions.

Noteworthy is also the structure of Last Days of Mankind, which converges the aesthetic convention of traditional dramatic form (five acts with prologue and epilogue) with the characteristic modernist practices (montage or juxtaposition of separated elements). In this context, Kraus with his original creative approaches (in the Last Days of Mankind e.g. a method of documentary citation) can be considered a direct predecessor of theatre of absurd or postmodern, documentary and post-dramatic theater.

Symptomatic of all of Kraus’s work, including the Last Days of Mankind, is its affinity with the philosophy of language, namely Ludwig Wittgenstein (see e.g. JUST, Vladimír. Valpružiny noci Karla Krause. Divadelní revue 25, 2014, č. 2, s. 104–130). One of the dominant features of the Last Days of Mankind is Kraus’s essential belief that the acts of concrete violence, the structure of power mechanisms and principles of totalitarian manipulation grow from automatisms of linguistic clichés or the anonymous “tyranny of public phrases” (ČAPEK, Karel. Spisy. Od člověka k člověku III. Praha: Čs. Spisovatel. 1991, s. 173). In the context of philosophy of language, Kraus’s documentary-citation method, which is the cornerstone of the Last Days of Mankind, seems to be a logical outcome of the artist’s ethical and philosophical convictions. Characteristic of Kraus is his particularly sharp criticism of not only public populism, superficial journalism, nationalism in all its forms, but, above all, media strategies per se.

In one of his texts, entitled The End of the World Through Black Magic (1922), Kraus did not hesitate to call journalists “modern-day vampires who feed on ink instead of blood ” (qtd. in JUST, V. Ibid., p. 112) [The title of this subchapter is an allusion to Kraus’s text]: “Newspapers exterminate all imagination: explicitly in the way they offer reality with fantasy, while protecting the receiver from his activity; indirectly by anaesthetizing his ability to perceive art […] The poet will no longer exist, substituted by the reporter; and the state lacks the imagination to introduce the very last tax which would be a kind of starting point and a kind of honest attempt at pounding the capital out of spiritual misery: phrase tax.” (Kraus, K. Soudím živé i mrtvé. Praha: Odeon, 1974, s. 219–220) In this sense, Karl Kraus anticipated the subsequent development of critical thought about the media discourse. It is hard to say how would Kraus reflect the current mediatized world, dominated by global, television, and internet strategies.

In the Last Days of Mankind, Karl Kraus expressed his anxiety about political events and their mediatized image which is in our tradition “inscribed” in history: “In this time you should not expect a single word from me. Besides: The only protection from the misinterpretation is silence. […] Those who have nothing to say, keep talking. Let him who has something to say come forward and be silent.” (KRAUS, Karl. Aforismy. Přel. Aloys Skoumal. Divadlo 15, prosinec 1964[a], č. 10, s. 28.).

Kraus’s words resonate with Ludwig Wittgenstein’s letter to Ludwig Ficker: “My work consists of two parts, the one presented here plus all that I have not written. And it is precisely this second part that is the important point. […] In short, I believe that where many others today are just gassing, I have managed in my book to put everything firmly into place by being silent about it.” (Wittgenstein qtd. in Janik, see link)

The afore-mentioned quotes capture the intellectual and aesthetic essence of Kraus’s Last Days of Mankind more eloquently than any detailed description of this vast, almost 800 pages long work that stages an apocalyptic and deliberately de-individualized vision of destruction and decay of European civilization against the backdrop of the First World War.

Besides his literary-satirical, essayistic and journalistic activities, Kraus organized his own public lectures within which he also performed (Kraus was also an actor and cabaret artist in his early youth). The format of lectures was rather syncretic, fusing authorial readings with stand-up and performance art. However, the topicality of Kraus’s theatrical and dramatic legacy, which inspired e.g. Austrian actor Helmut Qualtinger, in the context of contemporary European dramaturgy remains virtually undervalued. It is only in the German-speaking countries where, every now and then, an adaptation of the Last Days of Mankind occurs.

In this context, Robert Wilson’s controversial Prague production of 1914 should be mentioned. The script of 1914, which premiered in April 2014 at the Prague National Theatre under the auspices of the CONFLICT ZONES network-programme of the UTE, is based on Marta Ljubková and Robert Wilson’s adaptation of Kraus’s Last Days of Mankind and the satirical novel The Good Soldier Švejk (1921–1923) written by the Czech writer Jaroslav Hašek. 1914 was the second attempt at the stage adaptation of Kraus’s play in the Czech Republic.

1914: Kraus, Karl – Hašek, Jaroslav – Ljubková, Marta – Wilson, Robert. Director and set designer Robert Wilson, prem. April 30, 2014, Estates Theatre of the National Theatre © Lucie Jansch
1914: Kraus, Karl – Hašek, Jaroslav – Ljubková, Marta – Wilson, Robert. Director and set designer Robert Wilson, prem. April 30, 2014, Estates Theatre of the National Theatre © Lucie Jansch

Historically the first (and essentially the only) Czech production of Kraus’ work, presented as Last Moments of Mankind, was mounted by the Prague Chamber Theatre at the Theatre Comedy, Prague (prem. 2011).

(Last Moments of Mankind. Kraus, Karl – Schmitt, Katharina – Zielinski, Thomas – Riemenschneider, Alexander – Bárta, Vojtěch – Knotková, Viktorie. Director: Schmitt, Katharina – Zielinski, Thomas – Riemenschneider, Alexander, prem. April 22, 2011, Theatre Comedy.)

ISO Theatre Inquiry into the Fourth Act of Kraus’s Apocalyptic Vision

The artistic residency of the ISO Theatre in Porto united seven members of the group: Bilyana Georgieva (Bulgaria), Khwala Ibraheem (Israel/Palestine; participated in the final stages of the residency), Boris Krastev (Bulgaria), Vincent Menjou-Cortès (France), Luís Puto (Portugal), Kim Willems (Germany) and Angélique Zaini (France). Rehearsals/masterclasses were conducted under the leadership of Nuno Carinhas and Nuno M. Cardoso and took place on the premises of the former Benedictine monastery Mosteiro Sāo Bento da Vitória, whose significant part has been utilized by the National Theatre São João, Porto Teatro Nacional São João do Porto, TSNJ) for alternative and chamber-like events for which this space offers appropriate conditions that can’t be provided by the traditional proscenium arch stage of the historical building of the TSNJ.

For the purposes of the masterclass, directors Carinhas and Nuno M. Cardoso selected the fourth act of Kraus’s Last Days of Mankind. In the first stage of the masterclass (May 23 – May 27) the performers worked on collective improvisations which were based on the fragments from the fourth act. The final outcome of the workshop was presented as a “work-in-progress” in front of an audience, consisting of an internal member circuit of the TSNJ and invited trainees of the CONFLICT ZONES network-programme of the UTE, namely Elena Galanopoulou (cultural journalist, Greece), Julie Kočí (historian of ballet and dance theater, Czech Republic) and Sergio Lo Gatto (theater critic and cultural journalist, Italy).

The final presentation, which was conceived as an informal, open and uninterrupted rehearsal, included nine improvised scenes from the fourth act of the Last Days of Mankind (scene 11, 12, 13, 14, 22, 32, 34, 38 and 39). The actors performed on a bare stage, coated with the vinyl dance floor material, the backstage was separated by a black curtain. In the front left side of the stage there was an ordinary worn-out wooden table and chairs. In several improvisations both pieces of furniture were employed in a variety of ways. Among other items that have appeared on the stage were e. g. camera, pen and paper, paper bag (designed for pastry) or a plastic box filled with a leftover from lunch, or fork. All props, as well as “costumes” were fully authentic objects of everyday use. The ordinary-like authenticity of improvised fragment was disrupted by the articulated aesthetic interpretation only once and for a few moments: at the end of scene 13, which is in Kraus’s play a grotesque demonstration of anonymous brutality, embodied in the violent act of a male nurse assaulting a wounded, groaning soldier; in the spirit of Kraus’s bitter poetics the scene leads into the saucy pub ditty that drowns the moans of the dying soldier. In the presentation, the pub ditty was substituted with Ravel’s Bolero.

The open rehearsal revealed the precise work of both directors who prepared the workshop and presented fragment, powerful presence of some performers and diversity of acting and cultural traditions of ISO Theatre members.

Carinhas and Nuno M. Cardoso approached the ISO Theatre residency, whose contribution already lay in the dramaturgical selection of Kraus’s play, both pragmatically and highly empathically, respecting the linguistically and culturally disparate nature of all participants, as well as the complicated structure of Kraus’s text. Both directors were very well aware of the linguistic, aesthetic and philosophical complexity of Kraus’s vast work, and, hence, were very well aware of the complex difficulties related to the linguistic, as well as meta-linguistic translation of the text within the framework of a 4–5-day workshop.

Thus, the major objective of their concept of the ISO Theatre residency was not unifying an aesthetic idea of Last Days of Mankind or an abstract interpretation of the work, but the principle of a collective experience of the text which – under the satirical reflections of media discourses related to the recent war history of Europe – conceals a profound anthropological experience of European civilization.

ISO Theatre Dramaturgy: A Search for the European Theme in the Jumble of Judeo-Christian Tradition (Bible) – Anthropological Pretext of Ancient Tragedy (Oresteia) – and in the Chaos of Life-style Clichés or Guidebooks of Contemporary Global Discourse

The group dedicated the last three days of ISO Theatre residency in Porto to the debate on the possible dramaturgical and operative concept of the future project which could be implemented either on the principle of a collective-laboratory creation, or in collaboration with a director. An organic, at times dramatically tectonic, debate predominantly addressed the issue of dramaturgical choices. Unequivocal consensus prevailed regarding the conceptual vision of ISO Theatre dramaturgy, which should focus on pan-European themes presented in a perspective that would resonate with the dynamic nature of controversial notions (or clichés?), such as “Modern Europe” – “contemporary European” – “contemporary European society” and its culture…

The outlined dramaturgical-conceptual collective process crystalized in the discussion of three fundamental materials that reflect the shared cultural-anthropological legacy of the European tradition, as well as the complexity, brutality and volcanic controversy of historical continuity of European civilization. The group discussed the Bible and the Aeschylus’s Oresteia; another topic was the global media format of guidebooks, cookbooks or instruction manuals, approached with a sense of biting irony and grotesqueness.

The satirical inversion of current not only European but global media discourse that corresponds to the Last Days of Mankind seems to be an eloquent reminiscence of Kraus’s message for the contemporary globalized European civilization, under whose ruins the embers of myths of collective origin still smoulder and the stigmata of both ancient and recent conflicts keep bleeding.

At a time when spectres once again are haunting Europe, spectres which cast far-reaching shadows of past guilt – a warning memento for the future – we, Europeans, probably have no other alternative but to choose between a postmodern-discursive analysis of our cultural memory embedded in the post-dramatic, fragmentary forms, or remain silent in the Krausian–Wittgensteinian manner.

“Under the white walls a mud in pearl-sheen
and after the wind bells flew to Rome,
horizon blushes, my dad,
scarlet in shame
we’re here alone, no descent from the cross.

Languid battalions already burning hands of bearers,
perhaps under the helmet only eyes hope

[…]

Not a piece of cake to drink again a heaping glass of wine
And believe in prophets in the chorale of bungle,
Dark hundred years shine with the star of poison
On the coat of arms for slaves – our heirs.”

(Karel Kryl, a fragment from the song White Mountain/Last Moravian.)

The quoted lyrics of Czech poet and songwriter Karel Kryl (April 12, 1944, Kroměříř – March 3, 1994, Munich) — who in 1969 left communist Czechoslovakia for West Germany, where, among others, he co-operated with the exile Radio Free Europe — express better than any other word the bitterly painful experience of this post-war (East- and Central) European artist who, like a few generations before him the (Central-) European Kraus, did not and could not remain silent. Kryl’s song is an allegorical protest against the occupation of Czechoslovakia that followed the invasion of Warsaw Pact troops in August 1968. The lyrics, however, strictly correspond with the historical facts related to the Battle of White Mountain, an early battle in the Thirty Years’ War fought on 8 November 1620, in which an army of 15,000 Bohemian estates and mercenaries were defeated by 27,000 men of the combined armies of Ferdinand II, Holy Roman Emperor, and the German Catholic League. The battle marked the end of the Bohemian period of the Thirty Years’ War, and decisively influenced the fate of the Czech lands for the next 300 years.

Kryl’s reference to the monstrous reality of the Thirty Years War and his immediate allegory of his own experience with the demonstration of Soviet totalitarian power, as well as of his own awakening to the reality of active collaboration of Czechoslovak political representation, which was accompanied with the passivity of a majority of Czechoslovak population, is a telling postscript to Kraus’s artistic reflection of European totalitarianisms through the poetics of phrases, shibboleths, and media clichés.

 

Published on 29 June 2016 (Article originally written in Czech)

The objects in the mirror are closer than they appear

The objects in the mirror are closer than they appear

a comment on the ISO residency in Porto

ISO residency in Porto
© Susana Neves / TNSJ

Up and down, up and down, up and down. That’s how the streets of Porto take you around, from a small café full of students lost in their books to the sound of crackling vinyls, to the stream of tourists going down to the riverside. Strong wind, some rays of sun, a lot of rain. This is the weather that welcomes a one-week ISO residency at the National Theatre São João, a time warp dedicated to creation and brainstorming.

The International Super Objective Theatre (ISO) is a project developed in the context of the 2012 UTE Decentralized Academy. Initiated in the course of a masterclass directed by Russian stage director Lev Dodin in Saint Petersburg, the ISO is a collective of young theatre artists from all over Europe and beyond, with the aim to explore what being European means today through theatre practices.

The kind of work that Nuno Carinhas and Nuno M. Cardoso conducted with the group of actors resembled the one made in a science lab, playing with elements and doses, provoking reactions between the performers and the spectators. The choice to use the original text of Karl Kraus’s The Last Days of Mankind and mix it with its English, French and Bulgarian translations revealed so many contradictions. The contradictions of a continent that would like to act and reason with a collective mind and realizes that it sometimes is not even able to understand its own words.
In one scene, an officer dictates a letter to a secretary, who—not speaking the language—finds no other way to execute the task than to perform a frenzied pantomime that mimics voice tones and their supposed meaning.
The result is an ironically distorted mirror of what is happening nowadays not just with respect to Europe, but whenever we consider the nature of our current modes of communication, overwhelmed by a Babel of contradictory signs and tools that give the illusion of a closer distance.

We might join this group of people for a simple stroll through the park or for a cup of chà in a secret and fancy-furnished tearoom in Porto, and a passionate conversation on religion and faith would seamlessly intertwine with comments on the structures of national theatres, with no need for excuses. There is always something refreshing in getting deeper into an artist’s mind, where every single detail of perception transforms into one element of an organic process.

For the journalists invited to cover the story the open rehearsal—held in front of a small but very attentive audience in the rehearsal room of the Mosteiro São Bento da Vitória—was just the starting point, to dig a way down to an even more complex process.
The group first gathered four years ago; the workforce has been changing, including new nationalities that have joined and introduced new perspectives, pursuing a sort of balance which doesn’t accept to be frozen by any hierarchal system. Angelique, Balázs, Bilyana, Boris, Khwala, Kim, Luís, Petya and Vincent (part of a larger group) got to know each other better and better, and are now aware of their common past and in search of a common future.

Sitting at their table for seven meals, having a drink together, playing childish games in the park a few hours before leaving Porto was such a great learning experience. But what was even more compelling for a journalist was the need to learn a different state of beholding, to find a way to be present without interfering. Being there while the group was spreading and discussing and changing ideas clacking on the notebooks and scribbling on the notepads meant to testify how the creative process is something, again, contradictory by nature: it demands of you to be in control and, at the same time, to be willing to be obstructed and put in crisis. As Italo Calvino stated, “The perfect idea is the one that is open to be discarded to make room for a better one.”

Between doubts about which should be the textual base for a further research and very different views on aesthetics and poetics of the performing arts, the core of the attention was in fact a meeting point: an actor and an actress on stage can (and must) be the keynote speakers for a tough but necessary discourse on contemporary society; because every shared action is a political one. And political acts are at the heart of a collectivity and the key to its consciousness made alive. Here’s the ultimate, fruitful contradiction: the members of a collective win back an individual prominence. And that’s why the International Super Objective Theatre should not forget to stay subjective.

 

Published on 27 June 2016 (Article originally written in Italian)

Searching Theatrical Utopias in Porto

Searching Theatrical Utopias in Porto

ISO residency Porto
© Susana Neves / TNSJ

Utopia. This word was repeatedly on the lips of the members of the ISO collective and on several occasions. The group was created by seventeen actors from eleven European (and other) countries and it was based on the manifesto they signed in St Petersburg, in November 2012. They went on to share the experience of similar encounters from then on and the group united once again thanks to the UTE (Union des Théâtres de l’Europe). The word Utopia comes from the Greek words οὐ (non) and τόπος (place). This time, the place was the majestic Porto in Portugal. The lively group of the young actors had one week, from the 22nd to the 30th May, and a common place to work in, experiment, suggest and try things out. Their guide? This time it was the renowned Portuguese director Nuno Carinhas. Their motive? A special play about the history of Europe. “The Last Days of Mankind”, by Karl Kraus.

Upon the table of the awesome Monasteiro São Bento da Vitória theatre, which was named after its former use and which is one of the venues of the Teatro Nacional São João do Porto, lie several maps of Europe following World War I illustrating the transformations brought about by it. One of the maps is completely plain. “If the maps appear to be different it’s not because the land and the sea have been rearranged on them, but because the borders have been changing. We are still facing many problems with respect to the borders”, points out the director, who regards Kraus’s text as being modern, let alone prophetic. Written for the present. “We are monsters”, he realizes after a while.

However, the reason he chose the specific play was political, rather than practical. The extensive text, playing with the notions of “language” and “ideology”, was written as some kind of drama documentary, embedding references, official documents, proclamations, and articles that were published in the press back then. Some of the numerous scenes are dramatic, others are comic. The directors, Nuno Carinhas and his assistant, Nuno M. Cardoso, selected the most interesting ones with respect to the dynamics of the illustrated relationships.

ISO residency in Porto

“This is your material and this is your space,” said the two and handed over the scene to the actors to have them improvise. “We gave no specific directions. The material is yourselves and the relationship among you”, they had said. They also had the brilliant idea to incorporate different translations of the play. This decision enhanced both the process and the outcome, as witnessed during the open rehearsal. By approaching the text via the different syntax and musicality of the distinct languages, they succeeded in reaching deep into the drama. “I barely know a word in Bulgarian and yet, I didn’t even feel I had to take a look at the text. Everything I needed in order to understand was already on stage for me to take in. Gestures, looks, the dramaturgy behind the dramaturgy, all of it spoke volumes,” says a viewer in the discussion that follows. The aim was not to come up with a performance. The presentation only took place so as to remind us that in order for the theatre to exist an audience is needed.

 

So, the natural obstacle posed by the language in the case of this workshop, turned out to be an interesting privilege. With its members having completely different origins, the team, already being in its third year, has started binding and creating its own internal dynamics. This was the first time they had ever worked on a given play, as they had been improvising so far, using devised methods.

“I think a specific play was what we needed. The whole thing is already utopian. When I was young I thought things would change, that it would be like living in a dream. I think it is good to be concrete and to work in a concrete way”, points out the French actor Vincent Menjou-Cortès.

“What we managed to do in only four days was very interesting. I don’t think there can be theatre without the actors’ personalities. You all have unique qualities and an amazing imagination. Each one of you had his own way to approach the material. Each one had a particular kind of energy. I don’t usually talk too much. Not even to the Portuguese actors. I use my body to explain things. This has been a very intense moment for me; a fantastic moment for you. You are all here, far from your countries and families, and all that you have is a place to work on an idea or on the theatre. It was too hard for me to go back to the office after that. I’m very proud of what ISO can be”, concluded the director, Nuno Carinhas.

After their brief presentation, it was time for the group to be the audience of another presentation. There could have been no better occasion than Joris Lacoste’s Encyclopédie de la parole in the packed Teatro Municipal do Porto “Rivoli”. It was a play devoted to the relationship among several languages and their musicality. An enjoyable choir reciting fragments of private and public utterances on stage.

Between meals, rehearsals and discussions, various topics came up. The current situation in our countries. What it is like to be an artist today. The intermittents in France. The situation in Greece. Actors’ training in Bulgaria. How the artists carry out their work in each country.

Speaking of utopias, the ISO team continues not only to believe in them but also to fight for them. A few days later, they organized a series of meetings with the objective of having the Academy turn into an independent theatre company that would spread its wings. Several questions were posed: “Where and when shall we meet? How are we going to find financial support? Who is going to direct us? How can we be political without talking about politics?” Many ideas were put to the table. Most of them concerned the dramaturgical choices. The ones that prevailed were about the “Oresteia” as well as Stories from the Bible. The people of ISO realize that in order to enunciate something new first you have to refer back to the classics. And in this sense, their pursuits seem to be pretty well organized. What is sure is that in a few days they’ll have the chance to reunite, exchange opinions and viewpoints once again, as well as share common theatrical experiences. This time, the place is going to be Sofia, Bulgaria. And the journey towards utopia continues.

Pictures: © Susana Neves / TNSJ

 

Published on 16 June 2016 (Article originally written in Greek)

2000 – 2014

2000 – 2014, a time capsule of Portuguese theatre

Photo by courtesy of João Tuna & Teatro Nacional São João Porto
Photo by courtesy of João Tuna & Teatro Nacional São João Porto

The transition from the year 1999 to the year 2000 represented the mythical turn of the century and millennium that for many generations seemed like the foreseeable end of life on Earth—with the corresponding bug, the now very distant and very vintage Y2K. However, in the case of Portugal, it also looked like the beginning of a new paradigm in the relationship between the state and the creation, production and circulation functions in the field of the performing arts in general, and theatre in particular.

Leaning, then and now, on a model that juxtaposed the public sector (embodied by the two national theatres—Teatro Nacional D. Maria II in Lisbon and Teatro Nacional São João in Porto, the only Portuguese member of the Union of Theatres of Europe—benefiting from a specific institutional and financial support) and a non-public sector (i.e. ‘independent’ yet state-subsidized), that relationship was substantially challenged with the coming into force of Legislative Order 23/200. Suddenly, the special treatment given to the selected so-called “appointed companies and structures” (operating on a regular and systematic basis for a minimum of 15 years) was extinct, and the call for proposals application procedure became the norm for the whole community of theatre agents as far as the access to long-term (either quadrennial, biannual or annual) and specific project-oriented grants was concerned.

Regardless of the several legislative and operational changes that continued redefining the regulations for the call for proposals, sometimes overtly against the theatre community’s sensibility, this paradigm has remained in force until today. This is why we believe it is adequate to consider the period between 2000 and 2014 as a time capsule of Portuguese theatre. Such a transformation was, in fact, the political translation of an empirical observation: 25 years having gone by after the revolution of 25 April 1974—and the absolutely unique yet collective adventures towards the creation of an intervention theatre, both popular and politically engaged—the landscape had changed. The new companies operating in the country diversified the possible paths within the Portuguese theatre world, forcing the system into a reconfiguration. These new companies outnumber their predecessors, and are far younger and far more heavily exposed both to the influence of the outside world and to the influence of an advanced art education (in Lisbon, at the Escola Superior de Teatro e Cinema; in Oporto at the Escola Superior de Música e Artes do Espectáculo).

2000, the year that marks the start of this journey, is therefore a big bang, in a way: From then on, all the state-subsidized companies, even those who had so far been chosen and financed by appointment, had to start applying to the available funds in a call for proposals. By then, this had already been the only way for the majority of the subsidized companies, even if 40% of the available funds had until then directly been awarded either to those ‘selected’ long-standing companies or to specific one-off projects.

Ever since, the call for proposals application system has remained the rule—but everything else has fluctuated. Governing bodies, amounts, procedures, evaluation criteria, decision methods, jury composition, i.e. the overall framework has had its ups and downs in the course of these moderately turbulent past 15 years. Still, despite the chronic (and sometimes disastrous) delays in every call for proposals and final results announcement—and indeed in the actual material awarding of the grants to each of the approved applicants—the system has worked without major interruptions. That’s quite an achievement considering the fact that in 2011 the Ministry of Culture was downgraded to a Secretariat of State, and that the body in charge of managing the grants went through several metamorphosis: at first, the Instituto Português das Artes e do Espectáculo between 1998 and 2003, followed by the Instituto das Artes from 2003 up to 2007, and finally the Direcção-Geral das Artes ever since 2007.

So far, we’ve been looking at the bright side of things. But we can look at the dark side, too, if we contemplate the effects of time on the dimension of available funds for theatre support and the number of subsidized companies: slightly over 9 million euros for 117 structures in 2000, around 6.3 million euros for 92 structures in 2014. (By the way, the maximum amount awarded to a company decreased, too: from the 424,000 euros awarded to both the appointed Teatro da Cornucópia and Teatro Aberto in 2000, to the 400,000 euros awarded to the Companhia de Teatro de Almada in 2014). Within this period, 2004 stands out as the year that saw the largest number of companies being awarded a state grant (131), and 2009 stands out as the year that saw the most generous global amount available for theatre subsidizing (reaching nearly 12 million euros).

From 2011 on, though, the contraction of the state supporting action as far as the arts and theatre in particular are concerned has become harsher. That year, of course, Portugal had formally demanded international assistance to overcome the financial crisis, and subscribed to the Technical Memorandum of Understanding proposed by the ruling troika (European Commission, Central European Bank and International Monetary Fund). Whereas so far the overall amount awarded to the theatrical “independent” system had fluctuated between a minimum of 9.06 million euros (2000) and a maximum of 11.94 million euros (2009), it continuously went downhill almost all the way after that year, reaching figures never seen before in this century (and millennium): 6.8 million euros in 2012, 6.1 million euros in 2013, and 6.3 million in 2014. The following figures for 2015 are necessarily incomplete because some calls for proposals haven’t yet reached their final stage (namely for the awarding of the specific one-off projects and the Apoios Tripartidos, a new system created in 2007 that has been operating since 2013, and allows joint-venture applications through an agreement with local governments): So far, 53 theatre companies have been awarded state support, in a total amount of over 3.1 million euros. But even after all the grants will have been awarded there will be a decrease in the global public funds available to the Portuguese theatre community in 2015—a scenario the government has already admitted to.

It’s the theatre of a crisis-ridden economy, stupid—a theatre that the existing statistics partly confirm and partly deny. There were more theatregoers in 2013 than in 2000, both absolutely (1.5 million vs. 614,000) and relatively (148,500 per thousand inhabitants vs. 59,700 per thousand inhabitants). But the best year, 2008, is already very far away (1.8 million theatregoers in total; 175,300 theatregoers per thousand inhabitants). Ticket offices were also doing worse in 2000 (2.5 million euros) than in 2013 (8.6 million euros)—but they had also been doing far better before, for instance in 2005 (11.2 million euros). At this point today, a recovery to previous proud performances doesn’t look very likely.

Not even the two national theatres have been able to avoid the decrease in ticket office revenues: between 2010 and 2012, the Teatro Nacional São João’s dropped from 286,000 to 212,000 euros, in a context where its total budget also dropped from 4.9 million euros to 4.6 million euros (it’s important to emphasize that it had reached 7 million euros just before). And, last but not the least, the institution lost its sponsor. Indeed, national theatres have suffered a lot of institutional instability, too, with significant statutory changes and, among others, a very obvious consequence: the loss of financial independence.

Despite all this, the last 15 years have also witnessed a major reconfiguration of the theatre and cultural centers circuit—with the opening of a series of brand venues, most of them promoted by local governments. These have independent programming and considerable means to coproduce along with the independent companies and structures (a vital function that both national theatres in fact also more or less engagingly commit themselves to, together with the mandatory investment in their own productions). A map of the Portuguese theatre in the last decade and a half will have to include, besides D. Maria II and São João, such cultural centers (some of them privately owned) as Lisbon-based Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, Centro Cultural de Belém, Culturgest and ZDB, Oporto-based Fundação de Serralves, and Guimarães-based Centro Cultural Vila Flor; and such ‘local’ venues as Teatro Municipal de Bragança (in Bragança), Teatro Académico de Gil Vicente (in Coimbra), Teatro Viriato (in Viseu), Teatro Municipal da Guarda, Teatro Municipal Rivoli and Teatro Municipal do Campo Alegre (both in Oporto), Teatro Maria Matos and São Luiz Teatro Municipal (both in Lisbon). And it will also feature at least the following festivals, with very dissimilar degrees of consolidation and internationalization: Festival de Almada, Alkantara Festival, FITEI–Festival Internacional de Teatro de Expressão Ibérica, Próximo Futuro, Festivais Gil Vicente and Citemor–Festival de Montemor-o-Velho.

It is symptomatic that the Citemor–Festival de Montemor-o-Velho has gone from the place where Portuguese audiences met stage directors such as Angelica Liddell or Rodrigo García—the most performed contemporary non-French playwright in France, and recipient of the Europe Theatre Prize in 2009—to the non-state-subsidized festival where artists present their works almost free of charge, when they don’t actually pay to be there. Then again, this is the surreal country that for the past 15 years has been daydreaming of the mythical future where the government will finally spend 1% of the national budget on culture—and it’s also the real and not at all mythical country where that amount doesn’t even reach 0.1%.

 

Sources: Direcção-Geral das Artes; PORDATA; Instituto Nacional de Estatística

 

Published on 20 May 2015 (Article originally written in Portuguese)