{"id":106,"date":"2015-12-21T19:52:09","date_gmt":"2015-12-21T19:52:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/cs2.enl.auth.gr\/12\/?p=106"},"modified":"2023-06-03T08:37:35","modified_gmt":"2023-06-03T08:37:35","slug":"mise-en-scene-as-adaptation","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/mise-en-scene-as-adaptation\/","title":{"rendered":"Mise-en-Sc\u00e8ne as Adaptation"},"content":{"rendered":"

Avra Sidiropoulou<\/strong>*<\/a><\/p>\n

A classic is a work which persists as background noise, even when a present
\nthat is totally incompatible with it holds sway. (Calvino 8)<\/p>\n

(Known) Writings and (New) Readings <\/strong><\/p>\n

No literary work should ever really fear adaptation. New versions of canonical plays serve to perpetuate their established value. Not only do they guarantee their longevity; they provide a continuous\u2014if posthumous\u2014acknowledgment of merit and relevance. At their best, directors\u2019 reinterpretations of the dramatic canon illuminate old texts anew, offering fresh insights and stimulating strong reactions in the spectators. But, even at their weakest, they supply additional perspectives to the on-going discussion on fidelity, betrayal and the ethics of directing, a discussion which seems parochially attached to a conservative \u201cmarital\u201d discourse, when ideally, the encounter of text and performance should be based on excitement, passion and surprise. Adaptation is no hostile activity, an attack on a vulnerable source that must remain shielded against directorial invasion. Far from an inimical scheme against the author, the siege of the literary text should, I believe, be viewed more in terms of a growing love affair: that of an immortally attractive text often \u201cplaying coy,\u201d yet deep down longing to surrender to the persistent, sometimes aggressive, but altogether amorous attentions of yet another suitor.<\/p>\n

\"Odyssee,
Odyssee<\/em>, Opera by Claudio Monteverdi: Il Ritorno d\u2019Ulisse in Patria<\/em>, text by Von Giacomo Badoaro, Prologue by Luigi Novo. Directed by Jay Scheib. Staatstheater Darmstadt Germany, 2014. Photo: Meentje Nielsen<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Back in 1975, Frank Kermode formulated a definition of the classics as works that \u201cpossess intrinsic qualities that endure, but possess also an openness to accommodation which keeps them alive under endlessly varying dispositions\u201d (44). The classic\u2019s \u201copenness to interpretation,\u201d and, by extension, the lending of its power to adaptation and revision is perhaps part of a capacity to support multiple interpretations over time: the classic text is \u201ccomplex and indeterminate enough to allow us our necessary pluralities\u201d (121). Directors treating the dramatic canon as a mirror that reflects both the accumulated sagacities of the past and the imperatives of the present are faced with the challenge of facilitating the interactive texts and metaphors that co-exist in any act of interpretation pierce through the solid fabric of an existing myth, play or story, in order to access the cultural and aesthetic norms of today. A \u201ccontemporary\u201d reading of an old text is not, strictly speaking, a reading that merely exploits the readily available iconography of our times, but one which brings forth the principal dialectic that the source text is perceived to have displayed at the moment of its birth, adjusted, however, to present-day circumstances; it heightens the correspondence between tensions and implications that have survived time and the anxieties and needs of the modern spectator.<\/p>\n

In the process of adaptation, the literary \u201cwork\u201d\u2014to borrow from Poststructuralist terminology\u2014opens up to become transparent \u201ctext,\u201d rendering itself available\u2014as well as vulnerable\u2014to a plethora of readings. Reimagining the source text, the director reveals with the mise-en-sc\u00e8ne<\/em> meanings, nuances and allusions that can only be unearthed through embodied exploration. The text is revisited (and on occasion revised) with fresh eyes, the oedipal logos \u201cunderstood as preexistent discourse that needs to be re-marked and contextualized so that an understanding of its affiliations to culture and to various acculturating agencies can be exposed\u201d (Vanden Heuvel 63). In this light, directors can still recreate history not like historians, but like poets, to use Robert Wilson\u2019s apt observation (89).<\/p>\n

Adaptaphobia or Tales of Betrayal<\/strong><\/p>\n

Today, several decades into the practice of re-inventing the canon, directors continue to generate controversy, putting right on the table a number of issues relating to the ethics of directing, as intellectual and artistic operations, adaptations\/revisiting\/reimaginings\/versions of(f) well-known plays have been cultivating a chain of arguments on the limits of directorial interpretation and the rights and wrongs of artistic autonomy, tenaciously supporting or undermining the faithfulness versus freedom binary. The charge of \u201cmassacre,\u201d \u201cdismemberment,\u201d \u201ccannibalism,\u201d and other such crimes, is brought constantly to the fore through the unconventional work of conceptualists, such as Ivo van Hove, Thomas Ostermeier, Liz LeCompte, Oskaras Kor\u0161<\/em>unovas, Katie Mitchell, Frank Castorf, Romeo Castelluci, Krzysztof Warlikowski, Guy Cassiers or Jan Fabre, to name but a few. Robert Stam pointedly argues that words like \u201cinfidelity,\u201d \u201cbetrayal,\u201d \u201cdeformation,\u201d \u201cviolation,\u201d \u201cbastardization,\u201d \u201cvulgarization\u201d and \u201cdesecration\u201d have come to proliferate in adaptation discourse, each word carrying its specific charge of opprobrium (Stam and Raengo 3). While most of these terms should have by now become obsolete, escorted as they are by an obstinately verbocentric approach that no longer provides exclusive ammunition to current, largely postdramatic theatre practice, the tendency to point one\u2019s finger to radical experiments with the classics has spread like an epidemic. In some respects, adaptation has also been facilitated by the reaction of living authors to the use of their texts as mere source material for new pieces. Some playwrights\u2019 refusal to submit their work to the potential injuries of interpretation has led many directors to seek refuge in the safe haven of dead, copyright-free dramatists, sparing themselves, at the very least, countless hours of disheartening conversations with writers, if not more serious legal headaches. Directors\u2019 iconoclastic impulses, their leaning on and toward writing, which sometimes may feel like a more solid and durable instance of creativity, the undercurrent needing to fight against the ephemerality of performance (Sidiropoulou 155) in the end make adaptation a win-win choice.<\/p>\n

While, inevitably, the passage from page to stage, from literature to performance, is full of turbulence, there is also a quality of completion and maturity of the text\/s that characterizes the confrontation of writer and adapter (director). There is a \u201ctransfer of ownership,\u201d which, \u201cgained by the recoding of adaptation into a productive activity, becomes a signifier of authority and originality\u201d (Cobb 108). It is certainly worth examining whether all productions should in fact be considered \u201cadaptations,\u201d given that \u201cevery text is an intertext whose stability and integrity are social and political rather than ontological\u201d (Leitch 88). The question where \u201cadaptation proper\u201d crosses the boundary and becomes \u201cadaptation improper\u201d (88) is by no means rhetorical and could put into perspective the polemic of directorial authorship as well as auteurism. In reality, the act of re-reading is tantamount to re-writing. Unless revisited again and again, a text will be perennially stuck in its finite temporality. An exciting encounter between the play\u2019s original circumstances and a context that instigates critical thinking in todays\u2019 audience can furnish important insights for the understanding of both the play and the world we live in. As a cultural product simultaneously foreign and familiar, the old\u2013and yet timeless\u2014text foregrounds its enticing complementarity through mediating influences, traditions and production histories. Directing the canon should therefore cease to be perceived in terms of \u201cexplaining\u201d or clarifying. Far more constructive would be to consider directors\u2019 revisionism a mental operation that expands the original text physically and adds more layers of meaning by means of visual, aural and sonar indicators. At the same time, directors\u2019 \u201cfidelity\u201d could more effectively be applied to the pursuit of remaining true to one\u2019s own authorial voice. In other words, in order to claim one\u2019s autonomy as an auteur, one must somehow \u201cbetray\u201d the original author. Such betrayal, would, however, be one fraught with passion and excitement. While the source work is frequently viewed as a precious stone that needs to be safeguarded against the greedy hands of scourging (con)artists, a strong adaptation, far from eradicating, will probably reinforce textual authority.<\/p>\n

By means of example: Van Hove\u2019s treatment of Tennessee Williams\u2019 A Streetcar Named Desire <\/em>(1999) uses full-frontal nudity to expose the illusion at the core of the play, all the while making Blanche\u2019s bathtub the actual locus of most external as well as internal action. His production\u2019s minimalist aesthetic deconstructs the play in a surprising manner, revealing, beneath the poetry of the words\u2014often spoken literally\u2014the raw violence of Williams\u2019 world. The metaphor of the bathtub, which dominates the otherwise bare stage, is not, in this case, a strategy of relocating the play to the modern times, but rather, a way for the director to expose the universal energies and obsessions that run through the \u201centrails\u201d of the text: desire, sex, and an eternal longing to be made pure. Quite similarly, honoring the tradition of German Regietheatre, Thomas Ostermeier, artistic director of Berlin-based Schaub\u00fchne, is notorious for his provocative ways of reviewing established texts within a postmodern landscape. His 2011 Othello <\/em>uses a sleekly designed rectangular pool\u2014with a sizeable bed afloat center stage supporting the intimate scenes between Othello and Desdemona to evoke an ironically euphoric atmosphere of a beach culture, further embellished with \u201craucous music, neon lights, and alcohol-fuelled brawls\u201d (Boyle 83). \u0399n Katie Mitchell\u2019s Women of Troy <\/em>(2007), the image of the ransacked City is transferred to an industrial cityscape, near a modern-day port site. The set captures an eerie iron prison where the female citizens of Troy, immaculately dressed, are locked in, lamenting their losses, while occasionally dancing to familiar tunes or smoking cigarettes. Staging a ritual of mourning for their dead husbands, the female Chorus members dance the quickstep with imaginary partners. These plays\u2019 historico-cultural, dramaturgical and philosophical foundations have been re-examined and illuminated through essential metaphors that freed up their emotional energy within an utterly updated context.<\/p>\n

To Please or not to Please (Spectators, Playwrights, Texts)?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Traditionally, some of the practices involved in deconstructive theatre projects have been associated with an emphasis on form over (assumed) content. As a matter of course, formalist productions integrate with considerable, some or little success, stage matter extraneous to the context of the play: from compelling imagery to self-indulgent stunts to downright tasteless and portentous exercises in form. Repeatedly, the postmodern freedom and tyranny of choice make it difficult for directors to channel their interpretation into a clear point-of-view. Practitioners are instead avidly searching for new imagery, found <\/em>text and objects, unusual sounds and any shot of quasi-authentic detail; in general, for any kind of material that can provide that felicitous strike of inspiration that makes an adaptation flourish. So much so, that the very notion of material <\/em>has assumed vampiric properties, an omnivorous engine that feeds upon itself in order to keep propagating forms, patterns and structures ad infinitum, given that anything and everything seems potentially stage-materialisable. Although there is an urgency about the classics\u2014about any great play, for that matter\u2014which every director must address, the mix-and-match disposition of deconstructive aesthetics eventually leads to a soporific directorial stance, a toothless, bloodless staging; filled with a deluge of current cultural references, this kind of theatre may indeed ring home, yet it fails to instigate emotional stimulation and\/or critical thinking. An insistence on aesthetic consummation therefore becomes a way to counter-balance the lack of visceral engagement with the text and its universe.<\/p>\n

\"Platonov,
Platonov, or the Disinherited<\/em>, after the play by Chekhov. Adapted and directed by Jay Scheib. The Kitchen, New York City, 2014. Photo: Caleb Wertenbaker<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

In his review of Peter Sellars\u2019 1985 Seagull<\/em>\u2019s \u201caberrant approach\u2014tricks, quirks and sight gags\u201d (1985), New York Times<\/em> critic Mel Gussow reacts against directors\u2019 \u201ctearing apart a text, shuffling its parts and leaving the skeleton exposed\u201d (1988). Indeed, Gussow takes a very clear stand in the debate on the ethics of auteurism, contemptuously dismissing Sellars\u2019 \u201csearch of directorial signatures,\u201d which prohibit him from keeping his mind on \u201cthe play\u2019s values\u201d (1985). In a similar vein, Cry, Trojans <\/em>(2015) (image), the Wooster Group\u2019s take on Shakespeare\u2019s Troilus and Cressida <\/em>is an American-Indian themed (complete with a tepee and everything) multimedia synthesis, which stretches the concept of adaptation to extremes. The tribal war dances, the wigs, masks and \u201ceye-popping costumes\u201d that seem to have been \u201cculled from an epochs-spanning cultural compost heap\u201d (Brantley 2015), the stylized choreography that matches movement with video footage, and Kate Valk\u2019s portrayal of Cressida as a \u201cskipping Pocahontas type\u201d (2015) are only some instances of an attitude towards adaptation that can sabotage the very ground it is based on\u2014namely, originality. We sorely miss Shakespeare\u2019s speeches, no less than an enlightened view on this resolutely cynical tale of love, hypocrisy and anti-heroics. Formalist verve is now substituted by formulaic anachronism.<\/p>\n

Retraction to pattern\u2014one of the most common dangers associated with the decay of avant-garde art and a fast way downhill to mannerism\u2014threatens the fragile identity of the adapted text of performance. Just as directors continue to forge and solidify their own signature style, form must be subjected to constant reinvention in order to not feel trite, tired, or irrelevant. Notwithstanding the attempt to bring closer to the audience those elements in the play that are fundamentally foreign to it, a strategy that Julie Sanders calls \u201cproximation\u201d (26), there is nothing lasting or meaningful in forced analogies to the present and clich\u00e9 cultural currency. Sexy\u2014if pretentious\u2014directorial maneuvers eventually collapse under the weight of the dramaturgy, unable to sustain the non-negotiable aspects of the writing. An imaginative scenography is no doubt appealing, but that is not the case with visually oversaturated spectacles. After all, emphasis is not synonymous with obsession. Furthermore, the deliberate deflating of the original to produce a simplified variant, custom-made to fit our current media-fed stupor, is reductionist and damaging, not just to the source but also to the audience\u2019s sensibilities. Director Tom Markus\u2019 account of his process of staging Henry IV<\/em> Part 2<\/em> at the Colorado Shakespeare Festival (1979)\u2014what he calls \u201cplay doctoring\u201d\u2014is both risky and patronizing: \u201cshorten each scene as much as possible . . . eliminate everything that might confuse an audience . . . cut all characters who are unnecessary to the scene . . . cut all scenes which do not advance the story . . . cut or change all words that are archaic or obscure\u201d (qtd. in Dessen 6).<\/p>\n

Luckily, spectators will also bear witness to a more thoughtful attitude towards adaptation: instead of shrinking\u2014or in contrast, over-layering\u2014the action to\/with enterprising metaphors that are, however, detached from an attempt to build subtle associations between the classic and the modern times, directors go deep into the very fabric of the play, to work on the language and recalibrate the arguments involved therein. Ideally, in rehearsal, directors and actors will work together to create new sets of stage conceits, which can elucidate textual alterity. By unsettling the audience\u2019s expectations, a surprising mise-en-sc\u00e8ne can help create or revive interest in the original work. The literary text is no longer a ghost whose moldy, tenacious texture fills up the cracks of the theatre walls, it is no mere reminder or warning to the new inhabitants that the old landlord is still the boss within the adaptation establishment; directing becomes more about building worlds, and also, as Romeo Castelluci corroborates, about passion: \u201cthe idea of heat, the idea of temperature, the idea of danger, that\u2019s where the first encounter takes place” (qtd in Laera 96).<\/p>\n

Experience has shown that a word-for-word fidelity to the original source makes for a context of asphyxiation, in which the play\u2019s universal stakes are shrunken to a miniature copy; far from expanding, enriching and making the text relevant, an all too \u201cfaithful\u201d staging keeps it all removed from the present, a distant echo that we no longer care about or are able to hear. \u201cThe production which today seems fully to capture or embody a supposed original\u2014and this is true whether one speaks of text or performance\u2014enjoys only a potentially temporary and limited currency\u201d (Hutcheon 9). Conversely, a mise-en-sc\u00e8ne that refrains from \u201ctidying up\u201d the messy parts of text, while also resisting surrendering to the dialectic of fidelity versus betrayal, gradually builds dramaturgy and settles the audience\u2019s wavering between the instinct for stability and the impulse for change. Therefore, resisting the myth of immutability is essential; no story can ever be fixed. Interpretation is fluid, shifty, slippery. Plot, characters, setting and dialogue may be re-focused or over-written. What remains is the themes, deep structures and poetry of the original plays. In my view, such an attitude to interpretation emancipates directors from the need to defend their own metatext (the mise-en-sc\u00e8ne); encouraging them, instead, to sharpen and channel through their informed point-of-view the variety of cultural and intermedial references and influences at work. Revised forms can act as a kind of umbilical cord that nourishes the relationship between past and present, as opposed to a blind corrective towards the audience\u2019s instinctual response to texts, given that both appreciation and enjoyment lie beyond mere pattern and style.<\/p>\n

\"Clytemnestra\u2019s
Clytemnestra\u2019s Tears<\/em> (solo production). Written and directed by Avra Sidiropoulou. Dipylo Theatre, Athens 2004; La MaMa ETC, New York City, 2007. Photo: Marilena Stafylidou<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Resistance and Surrender<\/strong><\/p>\n

The torturing and limiting dualities imposed by the \u201cfaithful philanthropic philology\u201d (Pavis, \u201cOn Faithfulness\u201d 125) fortifies the guilt complex that continues to haunt the text-performance continuum. Some directors remain bound to the security of the author\u2019s name, not daring to fully explore the possibilities of the stage in order to bring the text to fruition. They are, indeed, feeble lovers, perennially fastened to mere wooing, yet never fully engaging in a passionate love affair, terrified of the kind of deeper engagement that such a relationship would involve. The prolonged delay of interpretation, which originates in the fear of meaningful intercourse with the original (be it a text, a theme, a spark of a story), ends up marring a relationship whereby the desire is there but in which the anxiety of performance (pun intended) and the fear of commitment ultimately take over.<\/p>\n

We need the classics for our own comfort\u2014their solid humanist structures and universal scope can ease our existential anguish. We admire and learn from their resistance to time and within our own slot in their recycled life we experience a sense of belonging and rootedness. Still, as spectators, we also appreciate guidance, an inspired entry-way into a world that is quite within reach yet still requires a passcode for someone to enter. The Wooster Group\u2019s director Liz LeCompte considers adaptation a way of \u201cpassing on a tradition by reinventing a play\u201d (qtd. in Kramer 54). That could be the job of the director: to give us the key to that world, allowing us to pick for ourselves the places we ultimately wish to visit.<\/p>\n

Works Cited<\/strong><\/p>\n

Boyle, Michael Shane. \u201cReview of Shakespeare\u2019s Othello (directed by Thomas Ostermeier).\u201d Shakespeare <\/em>8.1 (2012): 83-86. Print.<\/p>\n

Brantley, Ben. \u2018\u201cCry Trojans\u2019 is the Wooster Group\u2019s Take on \u2018Troilus and Cressida.\u2019\u201d New York Times.<\/em> New York Times, 7 Apr. 2015. Web. <http:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2015\/04\/08\/theater\/review-cry-trojans-is-the-wooster-groups-take-on-troilus-and-cressida.html?_r=0<\/a>>.<\/p>\n

Calvino, Italo. Why Read the Classics?<\/em> Trans. Martin McLaughlin. New York: Vintage, 2000. Print.<\/p>\n

Cobb, Shelley. \u201cFilm Authorship and Adaptation.\u201d A Companion to Literature, Film and Adaptation. <\/em>Ed. Deborah Cartmell. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012. 105-21. Print.<\/p>\n

Dessen, Alan C. Rescripting Shakespeare. The Text, the Director, and Modern Productions<\/em>. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2009. Print.<\/p>\n

Hutcheon, Linda. A Theory of Adaptation. <\/em>New York: Routledge, 2006. Print.<\/p>\n

Kermode, Frank. The Classic: Literary Images of Permanence and Change. <\/em>1975. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1983. Print.<\/p>\n

Kramer, Jane. \u201cExperimental Journey.\u201d The New Yorker<\/em> 8 Oct. 2007: 48\u201357. Print.<\/p>\n

Laera, Margherita. Theatre and Adaptation. Return, Rewrite, Repeat<\/em>. London: Bloomsbury, 2014. Print.<\/p>\n

Leitch, Thomas. \u201cAdaptation and Intertextuality, or, What isn\u2019t an Adaptation, and What Does it Matter?\u201d A Companion to Literature, Film and Adaptation. <\/em>Ed. Deborah Cartmell. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012. 87-104. Print<\/p>\n

Pavis, Patrice. \u201cOn Faithfulness: The Difficulties Experienced by the Text\/Performance Couple.\u201d Theatre Research International<\/em> 33 (2008): 117-26. Print.<\/p>\n

Vanden Heuvel, Michael. Performing Drama\/ Dramatising Performance. Alternative Theatre and the Dramatic Text<\/em>. Ann Arbor: U of Michigan P, 1994. Print.<\/p>\n

Sanders, Julie. Adaptation and Appropriation. The New Critical Idiom. <\/em>London: Routledge, 2006. Print.<\/p>\n

Sidiropoulou, Avra. Authoring Performance. The Director in Contemporary Theatre. <\/em>New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011. Print.<\/p>\n

Stam, Robert and Alessandra Raengo, eds. Literature and Film. A Guide to the Theory and Practice of Film Adaptation<\/em>. Oxford: Blackwell, 2005. Print.<\/p>\n

Wilson, Robert and Umberto Eco. \u201cA Conversation.\u201d Performing Arts Journal<\/em> 15.1 (January 1993): 87\u201396. Print.<\/p>\n

\n

\"Avra-Sidiropoulou\"<\/p>\n

<\/a>*Avra Sidiropoulou<\/strong> is a director and a lecturer of Theatre Arts at the Open University of Cyprus. Her main areas of specialization include the theatre of the director-auteur, theory of theatre practice and adaptation. She taught at the University of Peloponnese, the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki and Bosphorus University. She has directed and conducted theatre workshops in Greece, Cyprus, Turkey, U.S.A., the U.K., Estonia, Israel, Bulgaria and Iran. Her monograph Authoring Performance: the Director in Contemporary Theatre <\/em>was published by Palgrave Macmillan in 2011.<\/p>\n

Copyright \u00a9<\/strong> 2015 Avra Sidiropoulou
\nCritical Stages\/Sc\u00e8nes critiques<\/em> e-ISSN: 2409-7411<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This work is licensed under the
\nCreative Commons Attribution International License CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Avra Sidiropoulou* A classic is a work which persists as background noise, even when a present that is totally incompatible with it holds sway. (Calvino 8) (Known) Writings and (New) Readings No literary work should ever really fear adaptation. New<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":369,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-106","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-special-topics","","tg-column-two"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2015\/12\/Avra-Sidiropoulou.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9xLnm-1I","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/106","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=106"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/106\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1080,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/106\/revisions\/1080"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/369"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=106"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=106"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=106"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}