The Unmediatisable Eye Contact
If ‘unmediatisable’
is a word... If ‘mediatisable’ is a word... Actually, it could be argued whether anything can
be mediatised without being altered. But at least on the reception end, sentiments
can be evoked by a mediatised object (or work or thing) as much as the ‘real’
(or ‘original’ or unmediatised) one. Roland Barthes certainly felt emotional
when looking at his mother’s photographs[1]. There
have been a lot of discussions on the affect of online performances especially
during the pandemic[2]. But what cannot be
mediatised in the sense that without actual physical presence the feelings one
normally experiences would fail to transmit through media? (Obviously with
current technology, it is still difficult to replicate tactile, olfactory or gustatory
sensations telematically, but they are not my major concern here because in the
context of theatre, these senses are fairly rarely crucial elements of a
performance.)
Today I participated in a site-specific work produced by One
Step Theatre, created and performed by young students (I later learned three of
them are fourteen and one seventeen). True to its description as ‘a tapestry of
recorded audio and movement performances’[3], the
event took place at a local park, where participants gathered around a patch of
trees, listening to a pre-recorded audio track while watching the students
perform. The audio is basically monologues of reflections on nature, touching
on issues such as paying attention to the natural surrounding, as the title of
the event suggests, human’s relation with nature, and global warming, etc. The performers
were also listening to the audio at the same time. Their movements looked like
half pre-deviced acts half response to the general content of the recording,
like observing plants and insects, dancing or moving in semi-dancing gestures,
alone or with each other. Sometimes they would interact with the participants
like a wave, walking pass us or just standing in front of us.
On two occasions a girl stood before me, and with no facial expressions
just looked straight into my eyes for several seconds. I tried to respond with
a smile but after about two seconds I couldn’t help feeling timid and slightly
turning away. But the girl held her gaze firmly. I was rather surprised. In my
mind I was admiring her professionality like a real trained actor and at the
same time wondering why I was intimidated by a teenage girl’s eye contact. It probably
has nothing to do with the theme of the performance, but this was what left the
deepest impression on me: a simple penetrating eye contact. It indeed can be
powerful. In 2010, Marina Abramović presented a performance called The
Artist Is Present at MoMA where she simply sat quietly looking eyes with a visitor.
This work is essentially nothing but eye contact. Yet people queued for hours, and
many were ‘moved to tears’[4].
It seems to be the best example of the power of simple presence[5], glorified
by Peggy Phelan and later dismissed by Philip Auslander in their famous ‘liveness’
debate (which I have written about in my previous entries).
I would of course be reluctant to go back to the
pre-postmodern (if that is a thing) essentialist binary of ‘absolute theatrical
presence’ versus mediatised non-presence. But it is interesting to revisit this
debate in relation to eye contact in online performances. In the pandemic, a
large number of online productions are streamed staged shows either pre-recorded
(archival) or performed in real time. If the looking relation in the
illusionist proscenium and darkened auditorium theatre configuration is
one-directional, then the screen becomes the ultimate fourth-wall making the spectator
who watches at home even more like a voyeur. Not that these performances are
not interactive at all. Audience participation takes many forms like live chat,
hashtag comments on social media and so on. Face-to-face (virtual) and synchronous
interaction is featured in many other productions as well, especially the
prevalent so-called Zoom theatre during lockdowns. Zoom, a platform designed
for corporate conferencing can make eye contact in performances very
interesting and different from usual in-person theatre experiences.
On the one hand, when the performer directly addresses the
audience, it could feel more intimate as if it were a one-to-one communication,
whereas on stage, the performer normally looks at a general direction in the
auditorium. Except occasionally when the performer picks an individual
spectator, the audience are usually addressed as a collective. Probably more
interestingly, in some productions, for example, Creation Theatre’s Horatio!
and Hamlet (September 2020) about a devastated Hamlet confiding in his best
friend Horatio over Zoom during lockdown. It is sometimes unclear when Horatio performs
to the camera, whether he is talking to Hamlet, or to the audience, or it is an
aside (i.e. he is talking to himself). Conventionally, theatre is a fluid space
where the performer can break the theatrical frame by acknowledging and
addressing the audience. The video-conferencing platform designed for
face-to-face communication thus becomes a facilitator of such fluidity. And it can
further unstablise the frame by making it intentionally ambiguous whom the performer
is speaking to (whether they are breaking the frame or not).
On the other hand, the direct eye contact on screen is an
illusion. Whether used on a smartphone, tablet, computer (with integrated or external
webcam), or television, the camera cannot be positioned at exactly the same
spot as the displayed eyeline of the user on the other side. That is why
performers have to train themselves to look at the camera instead of their
screens when performing in Zoom productions.[6] I am
curious therefore what a performance such as The Artist Is Present would
be like if presented on digital media, whether the performer could really ‘delude’
the audience into believing that they have direct eye contact, if so, or if
technology one day could make it really happen, whether a mediatised fixed gaze
could have the same penetrating affect on its receiver.
[1] Barthes, R. (1993) Camera
Lucida: Reflections on Photography. Translated by R. Howard. London:
Vintage.
[2] To be added.
[4] https://www.moma.org/learn/moma_learning/marina-abramovic-marina-abramovic-the-artist-is-present-2010/
[5] According to Pascale Aebischer, ‘Abramović’s work has become a touchstone of reflections about absolute theatrical presence’. Aebischer, P. (2020) Shakespeare, Spectatorship and the Technologies of Performance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[6] I have discussed the use
of camera (and eye contact) in online performances in more detail in my ongoing
thesis.
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