The Process is the Product

Despite the challenges of post-modernism and increased lip-service given to collective action in the arts, performance and the person of the artist retain an almost sanctified aura. Yet, as Bryony McIntyre from Arika points out, “an art work is part of an artist’s life” and not just an object for contemplation: each performance, whether a gig, play or live art happening, is the tip of an iceberg that hides the process that created it.

Companies as diverse as The National Theatre of Scotland, Glasgow’s inclusive performers Glas(s) and the Kill Your Timid Notion festival in Dundee are examining the nature of the artistic process. It might appear an arid, intellectual approach, yet it cuts to the heart of what performance means, and discovers new ways of destroying the barrier between artist and audience.

“Glas(s) is committed to a socially engaged theatre practice that uses real people in place of fictional characters to tell stories that resonate” claims co-founder Jess Thorpe. For Life Long, they worked alongside “Tillie and Ronnie Jeffrey, who have been married for 52 years. It tracks their personal histories remembered and re-lived in an original piece of performance.”

Life Long examines a rare thing: a marriage that lasted. Through working with the couple, rather than basing a script on their experiences, Glas(s) move beyond conventional drama and seek a more sincere, intimate experience. This alternative approach led to a longer gestation period – Thorpe admits “We have worked with Tillie and Ronnie for a year and a half. It has taken this long for us to feel like it is what we all want it to be.” Blurring the line between the stage and reality, it breaks down the assumption that theatre must be made by a professional cast.

At the SECC, The NTS is staging Wall of Death. Not only is this a collaboration with a conceptual artist, it offers an insight into a creative process rather than promising a predetermined action. Stephen Skrynka. last seen bartering taxi rides in exchange for performance, has challenged himself to learn a death-defying skill.

Skrynka notes that “the thing that makes this production stand out is that this is a process-based work. I will be touring with the Fox family over the period of the production, during which I will become involved in all aspects of their life on the road. And they will be teaching me how to ride the Wall of Death.” As with much process based performance, the outcome is uncertain: “Nobody knows how long it will take to learn, nor indeed whether I will be able to achieve riding the Wall at all.” He admits. “This is what makes it exciting, unique and real. The production reveals this quest as it unfolds.”

Wall of Death reveals why this approach is rare: anything could happen as the artist relinquishes control of the product, asking the audience to empty themselves of the expectations they might bring to a theatre. Of course, for Skrynka, there is an additional danger of physical injury: yet any work that exposes its own workings forces the performer, or organiser, to abandon the safety that a production usually offers.
For their return to active promotion, after almost a year of research and reflection, Arika have made radical changes to their Kill Your Timid Notion festival in Dundee. “For years, I have been asked – is the festival experimental, or the music?” admits Barry Esson. “This year, it is the festival.” Bryony McIntyre, his fellow curator, adds “We want to get away from the audience having no interaction. We are relinquishing curatorial control.”

McIntyre sketches out the major change. “First week is investigation, working with performers: what happens in the groups will influence what happens in the performance.” This inclusive approach means that the “traditional weekend” will be unpredictable, Esson explains. “Each group will work from an artist’s proposal. We are interested in trying to strip back history and baggage to its foundational axiom.” From an artist’s single decision, the process will be followed by the investigative groups, leading to an event that cannot be predicted.

For Arika, this throws up all sorts of questions about the purpose of performance, and how the role of the artist has remained authoritative even as philosophy and politics have engaged with the importance of context and collectivity. Uncomfortable with their status as curators, they aim to hand back power to the audience, ask them to question the status of the creator and engage with work that is deeply challenging.

As Esson says, there is already a long heritage of radical deconstruction, going back to Dada and through the conceptual artists of the 1960s. By applying it to a festival, KYTN undercuts the expected passivity of the crowd, inviting a less formal engagement and discussion that goes beyond an after-show debate.

All three events point to new directions for performance: the direct involvement of people who would not usually be the focus, an emphasis on participation rather than passive entertainment and a bracing unpredictability. While such ideas have a proud intellectual rationale, they still promise an emotional and thrilling immediacy, smashing through the spectacle that alienates the performer from their audiences.