Reliving the Past: Reflections on Reenactments by Dulambuhay Philippine Playback Theatre and Tanghalang Tatsulok
Joe Louie Lavaro*
Abstract
This essay explores reenactment as a dramaturgical strategy that communicates knowledge and memory through embodied action, encourages dialogue, and builds community. Using performances by Dulambuhay Philippine Playback Theatre and Tanghalang Tatsulok, it highlights three roles of reenactment: sharing knowledge and memory by making participants witnesses to lived experiences; creating dialogic exchanges among tellers, performers, and audiences; and ritualizing remembrance to strengthen communal identity. This reflective account shows how embodied practice deepens understanding of history, stimulates engagement, and fosters shared meaning, emphasizing the importance of both structured and improvisational methods in supporting collective memory and community.
Keywords: reenactment, dramaturgical strategy, cultural memory, collective memory, improvisations, socially engaged theatre
In April 2024, students from various municipalities in Bataan, on the Philippine island of Luzon, gathered at the provincial capital’s plaza to participate in special performances commemorating Araw ng Kagitingan (the Day of Valor). A local community-based performance group, known for showcasing culture and social issues through reenactments of historical events, Tanghalang Tatsulok (Triangle Theatre in English, hereafter referred to as Tatsulok), organized the commemoration.
Among the excited spectators were my fellow PhD students and I from the University of the Philippines Diliman. It was my first time attending and witnessing such an event, where young people marched across the stage wearing improvised costumes to honor the sacrifices of Filipino soldiers, who fought during World War II. Being in the middle of the crowd, I felt the tension in the air—teeth grinding, fists clenching in anger, and quiet tears during the scenes depicting their homeland’s bitter past. I shared in their sigh of relief as the performances ended and celebrated with pride and honor, knowing that their hometown had produced heroes who shaped the country’s history. This experience showed me that what I had witnessed was not just a creative performance but a collective act of remembrance, which strengthened social engagement between young performers and their older audiences.
Watching the Bataan presentations also resonated with my own work in Dulambuhay Philippine Playback Theatre (Dulambuhay), a group of theatre practitioners who adopt strategies from Playback Theatre (PT). Our main repertoire involves reenacting real events with significant community impact. Based in Metro Manila, our reenactments focus on healing and empowerment. In 2016, I joined Dulambuhay as a first-time reenactor in performances of stories about Martial Law in the Philippines under Former President Ferdinand Marcos, Sr.
My experiences in those two instances, one as an audience member and the other as a reenactor, provided me with different yet connected perspectives, being on opposite sides of the stage, both of which deepened my appreciation for reenactments.
This essay is a reflective account rooted in embodied experience. I argue that reenactment functions as a dramaturgical strategy in three ways:
first, by transmitting knowledge and memory through embodiment, where participants become witnesses to lived experience;
second, by staging dialogic exchanges among tellers, performers, and audiences;
and third, by ritualizing commemoration to reinforce communal identity.
Following Diana Taylor, I treat performance as an episteme, a way of knowing. My lived participation in two contexts provided vantage points for reflection: as a performer and insider-practitioner with Dulambuhay, I learned improvisation and embodied empathy; as an audience-observer with Tatsulok, I reflected on structured and scripted presentations. From these experiences, I develop insights into how reenactment transmits knowledge and memory, builds community, and promotes dialogue.
Different Approaches to Reenactment
In the introduction to the edited anthology The Routledge Handbook of Reenactment Studies: Key Terms in the Field, Vanessa Agnew broadly defines reenactment as a wide range of practices that aim to recreate from imagination the things that no longer exist or have limited access to, with the support of documents, traditions, and material remains. She writes:
“It spans diverse history-themed genres—from theatrical and “living history” performances to museum exhibits, television, film, travelogues, and historiography. While there are important differences between these genres and their respective practitioners, they are linked by common methodologies, modes of representation, and choice of subject matter. They are also linked by their combined use of different medial forms and the breakdown of traditionally distinct categories such as academic historian and television personality, weekend reenactor and historical adviser” (327).
Agnew’s focus on both the diversity and shared methods of reenactments helps illustrate the approaches I discuss in this paper. The contrast between Dulambuhay and Tatsulok shows the varied ways performance can engage with memory, history, and community. One responds to the present; the other is carefully planned and rehearsed.
My experience as a PT performer and an audience member in Bataan shows that, despite these different processes, both approaches demonstrate how reenactments serve as a dramaturgical tool that can promote dialogue and build community.
Dulambuhay and Tatsulok are rooted in different theatre traditions. In Dulambuhay, dramaturgy depends on improvisation and audience participation to collaboratively create spontaneous portrayals of lived experiences. Conversely, Tatsulok follows a more structured, script-based approach that emphasizes preparation and dramatization. The improvisational method of the former relies on immediacy, responsiveness, and dialogue as dramaturgical choices, while the latter uses structure, ritual, and historical remembrance in its scripted performances.
Taken together, these two modes show the range of reenactment practices and their shared ability to create collective meaning. In these gatherings, Victor Turner’s concept of communitas emerges—a state of connection where social roles and hierarchies dissolve, and a sense of equality, mutual trust, and collective belonging prevails. Whether through Dulambuhay’s spontaneous portrayals of lived experiences or Tatsulok’s staged commemorations of history, both audience and performers engage in a temporary community. This merging of boundaries between actor and spectator, as both become witnesses, demonstrates how reenactment functions not just as entertainment but also as a creative way to share memory and encourage dialogue.
Reenacting History Through Playback Theatre
Founded in 1974 and influenced by the work of Jacob Levy Moreno, Victor Turner, Barbara Meyerhoff, and Howard Gardner, PT is a form of improvisational theatre where an audience member shares a personal story, and the actors immediately “play back” the story in an artistic performance. Kayo Munakata, Jonathan Fox, and Hannah Fox remember that PT was created to foster connection and understanding through the collaborative and spontaneous reenactment of real-life narratives. The process usually involves a facilitator (the conductor) guiding the session, an audience member who shares a story (the teller), and a group of actors and musicians who provide immediate theatrical interpretations, which the storyteller then confirms.
Performers in PT must simultaneously handle multiple creative and interpretive roles during live performances. The actors often act as scriptwriters, directors, and performers all at once, spontaneously creating scenes from stories they have just heard from the audience members. This demands not only strong timing and stage awareness but also an intuitive grasp of structure, symbolism, and emotion. Actors need to be highly responsive to the “offers” of their fellow performers and able to adjust tone, movement, pacing, and intent based on what is happening in real time.
Since PT relies heavily on the spontaneity of shared personal stories, we are required, as members, to do extensive research and grounding before the performance. This included reading relevant books and articles, watching documentaries, and exploring various media materials. As earlier mentioned, my first performance with Dulambuhay was a commemoration and a memorialization of the victims of the dictator President Ferdinand E. Marcos, Sr.’s Martial Law. As someone who was not yet born during Martial Law, this gave me a deeper understanding of the social, historical, and emotional aspects that may come up during the reenactments. Prior knowledge acts as a foundation that guides our interpretation, gestures, tone, and emotional presence. This is especially important given that our performance involves sensitive, controversial, or historically significant events.
The preparations we made proved essential. On the day of the performance, I was determined to present history interactively and engagingly, and to open a dialogue between those who had lived through Martial Law and those for whom it remains distant or, at times, dismissed as a myth. Performing on stage became, for me, an act of positioning myself as a vessel of memory and history within the community that was momentarily shaped by the performance. I took on the responsibility of transmitting recollections that were not my own, recognizing that reenactment places the performer in the role of both interpreter and medium of past experiences. In this way, my presence was not only representational but also participatory in the ongoing process of remembering. At that moment, I felt as if I were declaring: ‘I offer myself for this noble endeavor, so use me,’ a statement that reflects my awareness of the ethical weight of embodying and transmitting collective memory.

Just like in other PT performances, we started with lighter reenactments to warm up and prepare our audience. All the actors lined up on stage (Figure 1). We introduced the performance by sharing what we knew about Martial Law while striking poses to match our words. Next, we reenacted the feelings and emotions of the audience as they watched us perform. The highlight of the performance came when we staged the stories shared by the older members of the audience about their firsthand experiences during the Martial Law era. Finally, we embodied the reflections that emerged from the audience at the end of the performance.
During our reenactments, I intentionally positioned myself as if I were living in both the historical moment and the teller’s memory. I was fully aware that these were recollections and emotions belonging to another person, yet performing them put me in a state where I could see, hear, and feel as if I had experienced Martial Law myself. PT’s improvisational nature, with no fixed script, prescribed blocking, or director, heightened this sense of immediacy. The words we spoke were our own, though shaped by the teller’s narrative and the broader historical context. Similarly, our movements emerged spontaneously from the situations unfolding on stage. This process required not only interpretation but also embodied responsiveness, allowing us as reenactors to become engaged witnesses of Martial Law, responding to it in ways that felt both real and dialogic.
A key feature of PT is that it offers the audience chances to share their insights about the performance. The reflections they shared during the later part of the event, which we also brought to life on stage, demonstrated how reenactments connect with all participants. As a reenactor, I appreciated hearing words of appreciation, especially when audience members said they had learned something new about history. More importantly, their act of sharing reflections showed that they were not just passive viewers. They were thinking, processing and engaging critically as they watched the reenactments. It was as if they were saying, “We are here, we hear and see you.” For me as a performer, this moment confirmed the dialogic nature of the work, reminding me that what I do on stage doesn’t exist in isolation but gains meaning through the audience’s responses. In this way, Playback Theatre shows how reenactment promotes dialogue and creates a shared space where performers and audiences co-create memory and community.
Witnessing History Through Reenactments of Tatsulok
Earlier in this paper, I recalled how watching Tatsulok’s Day of Valor performance sparked realizations that reminded me of my own work in Dulambuhay. I now revisit that moment, this time not as a brief story but as the starting point for a deeper reflection. Unlike in Dulambuhay, where I was on stage as a performer, my experience with Tatsulok placed me as an audience member, attentive to the dialogue between the performers and their community.
Tatsulok is a non-profit organization known for socially engaged work, especially eco-dramaturgy, historical reenactments, and theatre for children and youth. In an interview with Carlos “Bong” Ramos, Tatsulok’s founder and artistic director, he explained that Tatsulok started as a community theatre based at the Puerta Rivas-Immaculate Conception Church. Over time, it developed into a community-based cultural group. Since 2011, Tatsulok has partnered with the provincial government of Bataan and has performed at Plaza Mayor De Ciudad de Balanga. Each year, the company produces two plays and other special performances for various festivals, aiming to uplift Bataan’s arts and culture, promote Philippine theatre, and educate through performance.
Tatsulok partnered with public high schools in Bataan to reenact scenes from World War II during the Parade of Floats in celebration of the Day of Valor. The theatre company manages the entire production, while different segments are assigned to various individuals. The process involves local historians who write the sequence of events, serving as the foundation for the performances. Teachers then adapt these scripts into their assigned parts of history. Along with their students, they rehearse, build floats and props, and perfect their performances before joining other school groups—each with their own prepared piece—to deliver a coordinated and unified presentation (Figure 2).

On the day of the performance, people from different towns in the province gathered to relive history. Although these heroism stories are celebrated annually in the plaza, I still saw a sense of excitement in the spectators’ eyes. Even though the stories are already documented in history books, the audience received the reenactments as if experiencing them for the first time.
This gathering suggested that reenactments can serve as a cultural ritual and a communal reaffirmation of identity. Reliving the stories of Bataan renewed the locals’ sense of pride and belonging, which might explain why they never tire of watching and listening to their history. As an outsider among the locals, I realized that I was participating in a dialogue not through spoken words but through collective witnessing. The community’s pride and my own recognition of their heritage intersected in that shared space, demonstrating how reenactment not only revives history but also fosters solidarity across different senses of belonging.
Being an audience observer gave me a different perspective on how performance helps transmit knowledge. I had read stories about the Second World War in history books, but they didn’t engage me the same way as the reenactments in Bataan did. The presence of real people on stage turned history from just words into a living experience. With Dulambuhay, I was accustomed to very simple sets and props, but the floats and costumes in Bataan made the scenes more vivid, helping us, the audience, to picture the past more clearly (Figure 3). For a moment, I didn’t feel like I was sitting in a plaza watching a show; I felt as though I had been briefly transported into the history being shown. The loud cries and shouts made me uneasy, and the carefully planned violent scenes surprisingly felt real. At that moment, I realized I wasn’t just a spectator but a witness, pulled into the emotional and symbolic work of the performance. My reactions, like clapping, sighing, and even quiet tears, weren’t just passive—they were ways of engaging that completed the dialogue started by the reenactments.

I did not stay in my seat; I roamed around, taking pictures of the floats and the students waiting for their turn to take the center stage. I noticed that some of them looked nervous, while others were still rehearsing their parts on their own, and some were making last-minute adjustments. I sensed that, aside from the pressure to perform well because they represent their town and school, they also felt it was part of history.
Seeing this gave me essential realizations. In Dulambuhay, I prepare myself before performances so I can honor the stories we present, and I have long considered this part of my routine and responsibility as an actor. However, witnessing other performers, especially younger ones, engaging in similar acts made me more aware of the weight of our task. It reminded me of the importance of preparation, a process often invisible to the audience, and something I only noticed because I was paying attention to what happens beyond the stage. For me, this confirmed the value of reenactors and of performance in the transmission of knowledge. Tatsulok follows scripts while DB follows informed intuition, but both have reenactors who do more than perform—they take on responsibility. We serve as vessels of memory and knowledge, and this role requires seriousness, care, and commitment.
Concluding Reflections
My experiences as a performer for Dulambuhay Philippine Playback Theatre and as an audience observer in Tatsulok’s shows reminded me that reenactment is not just a theatrical form but also a dramaturgical strategy. There are different approaches, such as improvisations like those of DB, which depend on the spontaneity of orally shared personal narratives. It can also be text-based and carefully staged, as seen in the performances of Tatsulok from Bataan.
Reenactments bring people together by creating a shared space where participants become witnesses as they perform or observe presentations. This act of gathering encourages community and dialogue, allowing the past to be relived and identities to be affirmed. Performing the past passes on knowledge and memory, which is why it must be approached with seriousness and care.
During the parade and reenactments at Plaza Mayor de Ciudad de Balanga in 2024, I sat beside young Bataeños who watched with joy and excitement. They clapped and cheered whenever they recognized the students on the floats. Although their small stature made it difficult for them to see, they stood on chairs, tiptoed, and craned their necks just to catch a glimpse of the show. Witnessing this, I realized that the tradition of reenactment will not disappear as long as young people remain inspired to engage with it. Their persistence in witnessing and participating shows how reenactment continues to shape collective memory and strengthen cultural identity for the next generation.
Note: The text was edited by Sir Anril Pineda Tiatco.
Bibliography
Agnew, Vanessa, Jonathan Lamb, and Juliane Tomann, editors. The Routledge Handbook of Reenactment Studies: Key Terms in the Field. Routledge, 2020.
Fox, Hannah. “The Beginnings: Reflecting on 25 Years of Playback Theatre.” Playback Theatre.
Munakata, Kayo. The Way of Playback Theatre. School of Playback Theatre Japan, 2016.
Taylor, Diana. Performance. Duke UP, 2016.
Turner, Victor. The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Transaction Publishers, 2011.

*Joe Louie A. Lavaro is a playbacker, educator, playwright, and performance studies scholar based in Manila. He teaches Arts and Design in a public senior high school focused on media arts, where he mentors young creatives in research, performance, and cultural work. He earned his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in theatre and drama education from the Philippine Normal University and is currently pursuing a PhD in Performance Studies at the University of the Philippines. As a member of Dulambuhay Philippine Playback Theatre, an ensemble recognized by the International Playback Theatre Network, and the Writer’s Bloc, a collective of Filipino playwrights, Lavaro brings together his artistic and academic practices to explore how performance can open spaces for education, dialogue, and social change.
Copyright © 2025 Joe Louie A. Lavaro
Critical Stages/Scènes critiques, #32, December 2025
e-ISSN: 2409-7411
This work is licensed under the
Creative Commons Attribution International License CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.
