{"id":214,"date":"2020-11-25T10:49:56","date_gmt":"2020-11-25T10:49:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/22\/?p=214"},"modified":"2023-03-15T11:27:46","modified_gmt":"2023-03-15T11:27:46","slug":"theatre-and-censorship-in-the-pandemic","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/22\/theatre-and-censorship-in-the-pandemic\/","title":{"rendered":"Theatre and Censorship in the Pandemic"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Patricia Nikolova<\/strong>*<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Abstract<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Due to the coronavirus pandemic, theatre faces an unprecedented and global challenge to its existence. Throughout the world, live drama is having to partially \u201cmutate\u201d to survive. The theatre is not alone, of course. All social contacts are in a state of flux, with every aspect of our lives now subject to new, extraordinary rules and public health measures. In parallel with these drastic changes, various forms of dictatorship and censorship have already appeared or intensified in Russia, Turkey, Hungary and elsewhere. The new processes have inevitably impacted upon contemporary theatre and drama. Recognizing this trend, the following analysis focuses on the upcoming real dangers of control (both direct and indirect) to the world\u2019s most vibrant art form as it faces the challenge of basic survival amidst global isolation. Under the new, stressful circumstances of a pandemic, in some parts of our anxious world, the term \u201cOrwellian\u201d is becoming more current, affecting the ontology of theatre as an extraordinary and free communal form of art.
Keywords: <\/strong>dystopia, dictatorship, control, manipulation, disinformation, documentary theatre, postmodern theatre, political theatre, crisis<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Theatre and Self-censorship<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Today among the biggest challenges facing political and documentary theatre is the return of dialogue between the stage and the audience. How can we ensure the return of spontaneous communication between spectators and theatre practitioners which has been lost?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the same time, the problems of censorship in the theatre have been exacerbated during the pandemic in certain pseudo-democratic societies (for instance, in Russia, Turkey, Hungary etc.). The pressing question now is what kind of political theatre can exist in countries that have traditionally punished innovative theatre and literary creators (Meyerhold, Kharms, Bulgakov) and now continue to punish some of them (Serebrennikov)? Old habits die hard. In some post-totalitarian societies, which freed themselves from communist dictates three decades ago, the spectre of ideological censorship continues to lurk. It is there that self-censorship appears most clearly on the stage and in theatre literature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Self-censorship is one means of manipulation whereby political theatre fails to function as such and tries to enter lavish visionary theatrical territories which would appeal to spectators, but which are far from the message of the political works presented. For example, in 2012, one of the Russian audience’s favourite Bulgarian directors, Alexander Morfov,[1]<\/sup><\/a> staged the black comedy Life is Beautiful<\/em> (inspired by Nikolai Erdman’s famous play The Suicide<\/em>) on the stage of the National Theatre of Bulgaria. The play, which was written in 1928, was repeatedly banned for political reasons and was first published in 1969, but not in the USSR (there, the first performance was in 1982).<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
The poster celebrating the 100th performance of Life is Beautiful<\/em>.
Photo: Alexander Morfov\u2019s \u201cNew Archive<\/a>\u201d<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

In Morfov\u2019s version, almost a decade before the pandemic, it was precisely the political message of the play that went missing. However, audiences cannot understand (and therefore react to) the sharp message of this political play if they are unfamiliar with the original content, which has, historically, been obscured by the standard means of manipulation: disinformation, self-censorship and control. The irony is that Erdman’s play criticizes just that. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nowadays, during the COVID crisis, there are no performances in the Bulgarian National Theatre that criticize the current government in Sofia. This even though there have been, in the summer and autumn of 2020, large scale social protests that were reminiscent of the rallies in Bulgaria following the fall of the Berlin Wall and so-called Perestroika.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Looking further back, the Soviet play The Suicide<\/em>, banned by the censors, was originally intended to be staged by the director Vsevolod Meyerhold, before he was arrested and tortured to death by the NKVD. Stalin himself intervened to ban this performance. It was not until the Khrushchev Thaw<\/em> that attempts were made to revive this work, but the next production planned in the Soviet Union was, again, banned. Famous companies known for their (relative) political independence, such as the remarkable Taganka Theatre in Moscow,  headed by legendary director Yuri Lyubimov, have tried to stage the play, but without success.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Does the pandemic affect this situation in the theatre? The question is particularly relevant now that the message of political theatre is entering into a tense duel with the big scissors of self-censorship in this part of Europe. Obviously, this phenomenon is more pronounced in societies whose fundamental values \u200b\u200bare shaken by perfidious attacks of disinformation, demagoguery, manipulation and control. It is also no coincidence that, in the turbulent autumn of 2020, the Russian intelligentsia responded in collective silence to the open letter of Nobel Laureate in Literature Svetlana Aleksievich[2]<\/sup><\/a> (whose documentaries were an inspiration for some sharp political productions) on the occasion of political and social upheavals in Belarus (which is often described as \u201cEurope’s last dictatorship\u201d). The lack of response from Russian writers, theatre-makers and filmmakers, artists and intellectuals is part of the history of fear and submission to control.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before the pandemic, the Russian state\u2019s suspicion of theatrical expression led to a young performer (a child, in fact) being arrested in central Moscow for an extremely serious theatrical \u201ccrime\u201d\u2014namely, reciting Shakespeare. It all started one fine spring day in 2017, in one of the busiest places at the heart of Moscow, the Arbat promenade, where, incidentally, some famous theatres are located. An artistic 10-year-old boy started to recite a passage from Hamlet<\/em>.  His guardian sat nearby on a bench, reading a book. No one bothered anyone. If this had happened in Manhattan\u2019s Central Park, it would have been a lively, harmless event, possibly with participation by the public. But in Moscow the story took on the character of dramatic action: suddenly, uniformed individuals ran up, the screaming child was brutally grabbed by three cops, who shoved him into a police car, as if he was a fierce, criminal offender, and taken to the precinct station. The accusation? The child was disturbing the peace. The obvious facts, that the child was not begging and was accompanied by a responsible adult, held no significance for the upholders of authority. The story of the little Russian performer arrested in the center of the capital was not even connected with an onstage political production. This is a completely authentic story, albeit with an absurd ending.[3]<\/sup><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This ludicrous incident helps to explain why censorship and self-censorship in political theatre today have re-emerged as serious problems. In the time of pandemic, some of the known tools for influencing the public, such as disinformation, censorship and control, are employed, under the guise of protecting public health, against political theatre. The very real danger, when self-censorship (for fear of direct state intervention) prevails, is that of political theatre losing a clear context, a strong message and its social power. Eventually, it transforms into something else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Theatre and Censorship Masked by Altruism <\/strong> <\/strong><\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

The historic turning point of 1989 is not so long ago. That great moment confronted the theatre in eastern Europe with a dilemma: how can theatre-makers gain the attention of the public, who are attracted more by spontaneous social riots and protests on the street than by the current message of the postmodern political theatre?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

How can live drama bring back to the closed space of the theatre those euphoric people who were chanting in unison against governments? The people did not want to play the role of individual spectators but, rather, to have a collective role, writing their history together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something similar has happened during the COVID crisis. Social protests have rocked many parts of the world, and the basic questions are back on the agenda:<\/p>\n\n\n\n