— Punj Prakash
To understand Antonin Artaud’s ideas on theatre, it is essential to have an understanding of theatre from its earliest origins to the psychological theatre of the twentieth century. Without this historical perspective, Artaud’s thoughts may appear little more than madness or meaningless rambling. After all, understanding anything in depth requires not only a sense of history but also an understanding of culture. Without these, neither the present of theatre can be understood nor, needless to say, its future.
Broadly speaking, theatre in ancient times was organically connected with rituals and ways of life. Before Artaud, it had travelled through a rich tradition of psychological theatre and had gradually become afflicted by a particular kind of morality and puritanical mindset, as had society itself. Traditional and folk art forms had largely been pushed to the margins or condemned to find a place in museums. Under the influence of the Industrial Revolution, feudal attitudes and capitalist ideology, human society was moving towards the madness of world wars. Wealth and status had become established measures of success, while the very definition of meaningful achievement was being aggressively and almost obscenely reduced to success. Was Artaud’s theatrical philosophy, then, a rebellion against all these conditions?
According to popular and prevailing perceptions, Artaud is also regarded as a symbol of failure. But it is certainly not necessary that only a successful person can be meaningful, just as it is not necessary that every failure must be meaningless. It is possible that an individual who is considered unsuccessful in his own time may be creating something of immense significance for the future. After all, behind every success lie numerous failures. Success and significance are two different things; they may coexist, but they need not.
Every century produces many successful people and countless unsuccessful ones. These individuals, too, have their own achievements, successes and failures. The twentieth century is remembered not only for numerous human-made tragedies but also for remarkable contributions to modern and scientific approaches to theatre and acting. Among the prominent actors, directors and thinkers of this period were Konstantin Stanislavski (Russia), Vsevolod Meyerhold (Russia), Michael Chekhov (Russia), Bertolt Brecht (Germany), Jacques Copeau (France), Lee Strasberg (America), Stella Adler (America), Sanford Meisner (America), Joseph Chaikin, Jerzy Grotowski (Poland), Peter Brook (England), Eugenio Barba (Italy/Denmark), and Włodzimierz Staniewski (Poland), among others. Alongside all these names stands another: Antonin Artaud, the founder of the Theatre of Cruelty, for whom theatre remained a lifelong path towards liberation and self-purification.
Believing that life is a series of burning questions, Artaud once said:
“I do not feel alive, but on stage I feel my existence.”
In saying this, he perhaps also ruthlessly rejected the great Aristotelian concept of catharsis.
Artaud, who believed that without satire he would be left lying helplessly in the disorder of the gutter, remains an exceptionally difficult enigma. Jerzy Grotowski rightly observed about him:
“In one sense, Artaud left behind neither a theory nor any fixed technique. Yet, in another sense, he left us intuition, visual understanding and a language of images.”
Artaud had little patience for routine life or conventional art. Perhaps this is why he could say:
“I abandon myself to the delirium of dreams in my search for novelty.”
Artaud: An Introduction
Antonin Artaud, whose life was marked by poverty, rejection, controversy, criticism and loneliness, spent nine years of his life enduring forced suffering in mental asylums. He was known as an actor, poet, director, painter and theatre theorist. His full name was Antoine Marie Joseph Artaud. He was born on 4 September 1896 in Marseille, southern France, and died in Paris on 4 March 1948.
At the age of barely five, he suffered an attack of meningitis. The illness left him with excruciating headaches throughout his life. To cope with this suffering, the use of narcotic drugs eventually became an unavoidable part of his existence. Several other illnesses also remained with him throughout his life. His tendency to sleepwalk led to his dismissal from the French Army.
His artistic life began after he arrived in Paris in 1920 with the intention of becoming a writer. Between 1924 and 1935, he acted in approximately twelve films, among which Napoleon and The Passion of Joan of Arc are particularly notable. Yet, inwardly, Artaud remained restless, searching for something beyond what he had experienced.
In 1931, he had the opportunity to witness Balinese dance, an ancient traditional dance form originating in Bali, Indonesia, in which stories are communicated through energetic physical expressions accompanied by rhythm and musical patterns. This dance form, along with the Marx Brothers’ films Animal Crackers and Monkey Business, is believed to have had a profound influence on Artaud’s theatrical ideas. It is also believed that the rebellious elements in his concept of theatre were inspired, to some extent, by the films of the Marx Brothers.
In the same year, his essay titled The First Manifesto of the Theatre of Cruelty was published. His major work, The Theatre and Its Double, appeared in 1938. It is a collection of several essays written by him and is also regarded as the manifesto of his theatrical concept, the Theatre of Cruelty.
Artaud believed:
“Theatre must recreate and re-examine reality in such a way that it has the greatest possible impact on the audience.”
Today, this statement may sound rather ordinary. However, for the theatre of that time, which had become almost like a fairy tale, it was a revolutionary declaration.
It is often overlooked as a historical fact that Artaud lived through the period of both World Wars. How could any sensitive artist remain untouched by historical, social, political and economic developments, particularly as a citizen of a country like France?
In his essay Theatre and Cruelty, Artaud writes:
“In the time of anguish and crisis in which we live, we feel an urgent need for a theatre that is not influenced by the shadow of any particular event, a theatre that can amplify our resonance, that can rise above the disorder of our times and profoundly affect it.”
It is worth remembering that in his essay The Theatre and the Plague, Artaud speaks of creating a catastrophic situation on stage, one that reveals the most terrifying truths of an age of overwhelming crisis.
Artaud and Theatre
Artaud believed that theatre was an independent and extraordinary art form. For him, the concept of theatre was rooted in the idea of a genuine theatre that challenged and questioned various established social and political ideologies. It provided space for ideological revolution and opposed racism.
While reflecting on theatre, Artaud expressed several ideas that have continued to inspire countless theatre practitioners to this day. He said:
“We cannot continue prostituting the idea of theatre by allowing it to exist merely within a moral framework whose values are rooted in the reality and danger of magical interrelationships filled with suffering and conflict.”
For Artaud, genuine theatre is a creative experience that cannot simply imitate the so-called real world. It involves a re-examination of reality. In this sense, he emphatically rejects Aristotle’s celebrated proposition that “art is an imitation of life”, or the idea that theatre is merely a reproduction of life or the real world.
Along with creating meaning through words, signs and a coherent theatrical philosophy, Artaud advocated the discovery of a distinctive language of theatre. He had little attachment to pre-written scripts or established dramatic texts. Instead, he repeatedly spoke of a theatre that was uninhibited, magical, rhythmically charged, poetic, symbolic, ritualistic, codified, boundless and dreamlike.
Artaud declares:
“To this day, no one has created a work that can lead us out of hell.”
Like ancient ritualistic practices, Artaud sought to rediscover powerful visual images and heightened sensations in theatre. He believed:
“There is life in theatre, a life that possesses its own authenticity, free from falsehood, pretence and hypocrisy. It is life, as opposed to playing a role, in which life itself is recreated.”
Artaud further states:
“No spectacle can be truly powerful without the elements of cruelty at its very foundation. Our declining sensitivity has reached a point where we unquestionably need a theatre that can awaken both our emotions and our thoughts. We want a theatre that can rigorously investigate the solid ground of credible truth, one that can penetrate our hearts and senses in the form of emotions, just as our dreams enact our reality with such intensity that we are able to experience the violence within them.”
Artaud advocated keeping theatre free from the influence of any particular political ideology. He constantly regarded his own writings as inadequate and flawed. One possible reason for this was his persistent inner restlessness and his failure to receive the recognition and respect he believed he deserved.
Having endured one trial after another throughout his life, Artaud perhaps wrote out of profound despair:
“Monstrous forces have pushed me aside. Having accepted this, I have abandoned even the search for the answer to the question, ‘What am I?’”
Artaud was deeply influenced by the myths, rituals and dreamlike world of ancient theatre. He also advocated adopting these elements in new ways and giving them fresh meanings, because simply reproducing them as they were would render them meaningless.
In theatre, Artaud placed greater emphasis on states of mind and emotions than on words. He believed that words generally had only an ordinary impact. He also maintained that genuine emotions could not simply be enacted on stage and considered any attempt to do so a form of deception. In this respect, Artaud stood in complete opposition to realism and naturalism.
Theatre and Culture
Introducing his thoughts on this subject, Artaud writes:
“Before saying anything about culture, I think of the fact that the world is hungry and has no concern for culture. People are engaged in artificially diverting people’s attention away from hunger towards culture. For me, the most urgent concern is not the preservation of a culture that cannot even address a person’s hunger or improve their life. Rather, we must lead human beings towards a culture in which hunger and culture do not exist as separate concerns.”
When we encounter these words at the beginning of Artaud’s essay The Theatre and Culture, they naturally arouse our curiosity. Who is this person speaking of hunger and culture together, when most people are busy presenting and promoting art merely as a celebration or entertainment for those whose stomachs are already full?
Artaud says:
“The repeated occurrence of catastrophe is a signal for human beings to return to nature and recreate life.”
It is worth remembering that when Artaud was writing these words, the world was grappling with a devastating epidemic known as the plague.
No culture, however rich it may be, produces human beings merely to be governed by its established rules and conventions. Innovation is an inherent human tendency. Human beings have always possessed the urge to question and transcend established restrictions. Even when forbidden to eat the apple, humanity did not surrender to the prohibition.
In this way, Artaud rejects the religious belief according to which:
“Life is a spectacle meant to be observed and contemplated so that we may see ourselves as we truly are and ultimately prepare ourselves to enjoy this world, without desiring any change in it, since the world is created by God and is beautiful.”
Artaud makes his position on art and culture absolutely clear:
“There need not necessarily be harmony between art and culture. In actual global practice, they often stand in opposition to each other. Culture, as a symbol of authority and power, is useless, inactive and transient. True culture is flexible. Through Westernisation, human beings forget their authentic culture.”
True art, theatre and culture are like shadows that cannot be confined within any fixed definition or style. They are far more expansive than the limitations of human beings and human institutions that we conventionally identify as reality.
We must believe that theatre is capable of giving a new meaning to human existence, a space in which human beings themselves become creators and originators.
Whatever exists, whatever does not exist, whatever may exist, whatever cannot exist; the possible and the impossible, the accepted and the unacceptable—all of these find their place within theatre.
When we say, “This is life”, we hardly know what exactly we are talking about. Therefore, life and theatre are as abstract as they are concrete. Both are experienced far more deeply than what can be seen or heard.
Through such ideas, Artaud ruthlessly challenges the countless assumptions that ignorant human beings have made the foundation of their existence and in whose blind pursuit they seem determined to transform themselves into beasts.
Theatre and the Plague
Artaud’s celebrated and challenging lecture, The Theatre and the Plague, was delivered in 1933 as part of an intellectual series organised at the Sorbonne.
In this lecture, Artaud compares theatre to an epidemic like the plague. He says:
“Theatre is like the plague, an extreme crisis that is also its own remedy. The plague is an absolute crisis in which there is no third possibility beyond death, destruction or complete purification. Theatre creates a similar situation. Theatre, in itself, is the highest form of equilibrium. It calls upon the mind, takes it to a state of delirium and intensifies its capacity to think. Finally, after everything has been destroyed, a profound human perspective is revealed. Theatre is like the plague because it compels us to see what we truly are within ourselves. It puts pressure on us so that our external masks may fall away and our lies, hypocrisy and paralysis may be exposed.”
In ordinary circumstances, human beings unnecessarily construct various social, political and religious coverings around themselves. Their true nature is tested only during difficult times.
If we look at the recent coronavirus crisis, we can see how, apart from science, intelligence and rational judgement, almost everything else that people had unnecessarily incorporated into their sense of existence seemed to abandon them. Politicians began delivering sermons on television. Politics fell silent. Even the most celebrated systems and institutions came to a standstill. Ideas appeared powerless. Religious places were locked. Human beings were left with nothing but the basic necessities required for survival. Everything else was reduced to mere words and rhetoric.
Human beings became frightened, yet cautious. Bodies piled up in horrifying numbers. Apart from precaution, protection and science, nothing seemed to work.
Artaud writes:
“I want to confront the audience directly. I want to give them the plague itself, so that they are frightened and awakened. I want to wake them up. They do not realise that they are already dead. Their death, their blindness, their deafness—this is the anguish I have placed before them. Yes, this is my anguish, and the anguish of everyone who is alive.”
Artaud does not compare theatre with the plague simply because the latter is an infectious and contagious disease. He is concerned with its impact, its ability to erupt and spread.
According to Artaud, an epidemic like the plague destroys all the supposedly orderly systems of ordinary social, political and economic life. Theatre, too, should have a similar impact on its audience.
Artaud wanted theatre to cleanse society of all its diseases, just as the plague disrupts and exposes the existing order. He wanted theatre to become as powerful and influential as the plague itself.
Like the plague, he saw theatre as a force that, through its spread, generates an energy that returns to the realm of thought and awakens the inner conflicts within us. We begin to experience fantasy clearly through our own sensibilities. This creates a terrifying subconscious state in which an illusion of mystery emerges. Gradually, the real truth about human beings begins to reveal itself, appearing almost illuminated within the darkness.
Theatre, like the plague, is ultimately beneficial. It compels us to overcome all obstacles and material inertia and to see and understand ourselves in our true form.
Established rules and conventions break apart, and the real power of humanity emerges from behind the darkness that has concealed it. This power gives human beings the courage and moral strength to confront circumstances, stand upright with dignity and live with self-respect and freedom.
Readers today may relate these ideas to the coronavirus pandemic. Unfortunately, human society seems to have learnt very little from that experience. Had it truly learnt its lessons, it would not have once again chosen the same people as its saviours, nor returned to the very path that had left human beings to die helplessly, abandoned to their fate.
Theatre and Cruelty
This is a rebellious concept of theatre, free from every form of domination and devoid of pretension.
Artaud’s concept of cruelty should not be understood in the conventional context of violence. Rather, it must be viewed and understood in the context of new creation.
Here, cruelty has a meaning somewhat similar to the process through which a new seed breaks open the earth and begins to grow.
Artaud says:
“To perform any action is an act of cruelty. The idea of the Theatre of Cruelty is to propose a theatre of the masses and to embrace it. Therefore, we must reconstruct theatre. We have lost our understanding of theatre. Our state of mind has reached a point where we desperately need a theatre that awakens the beating of our hearts, our patience and our senses.
“Because of inherited habits that have distracted our attention, we have forgotten the idea of a profound and subtle theatre that possesses the power to destroy our previous knowledge. Theatre must be transformed into an object of faith through a profound and intense idea that has been narrowed and restricted, so that it can advance at the level of emotion and consciousness.
“We need a theatre that encompasses the entire universe and communicates directly with the audience through new images. The events on stage must possess such vitality that they can instantly shatter all previously measured preparations and established assumptions.
“A theatre in which life loses everything and the mind gains everything.”
Explaining the meaning of cruelty, Artaud maintains:
“Cruelty is not an idea that I have introduced into my thinking; it has always existed in theatre. I use the word cruelty or ruthlessness to signify a hunger for vitality, cosmic completeness, an inexhaustible necessity, its manifestations within the universe and the mysterious whirlpool contained in darkness. Cruelty is an essential requirement of life. Without enduring this suffering, the cycle of life cannot continue.
“This is how cruelty must be understood. Everything that is alive and not inert is subject to cruelty.
“For example, only the mother who gives birth knows what pain childbirth involves. Birth and death possess an equal degree of cruelty. Hunger, love, fire, rain and the very nature of this earth—all contain cruelty.
“The need for movement and change, light for darkness, the life-force within matter, consciousness emerging from inertia, and the journey from conflict to suffering—all contain cruelty.”
The Theatre of Cruelty: The First Manifesto
Written between 1933 and 1934, this work presents Artaud’s explorations and investigations into theatre.
In it, he expresses his views on theatrical techniques, experimental methods, performance, acting, language, musical instruments, lighting, costumes, the stage and auditorium, stage materials, decoration, contemporaneity, production, actors and dramatic texts, among other subjects.
Before finally choosing the title The Theatre of Cruelty, Artaud had considered several other titles, including The Theatre of All Alchemy, The Metaphysical Theatre, The Theatre of Truth, The Theatre of Evolution and The Theatre of Extremes.
Artaud and the Actor
Artaud’s conception of the actor as an active physical practitioner was inspired by the Peyote dance of the Red Indians.
This exercise was not merely physical. Artaud also described the actor as someone who undertakes exercises at an emotional level.
Considering the actor a fundamental element of theatre, he says:
“Because the success of a production depends upon the effectiveness of the actor’s performance.”
The objective of a true actor is to make whatever is being revealed on stage so vividly and intensely alive that it becomes an enduring reality, even more alive than life itself.
Artaud says:
“For me, the actor is like an emotional athlete who simultaneously transmits, controls and performs emotions. While acting on stage, the actor divides himself and achieves a state of emotional integration.”
To accomplish this, an actor must not only be physically fit like an athlete but must also possess a scientific consciousness at the mental and intellectual levels. The actor must be as sharp as a samurai sword. Otherwise, all these ideas will remain nothing more than words and discussions.
Artaud’s statement about the actor is:
“Destroy yourself, you who are restless, and you who are imprisoned within your body and soul. Abandon all hope. There is no person or thing in this world that can console you. The world is alive beyond your innocence and tenderness.”
Artaud’s Play: The Cenci
The Cenci, the only attempt by the Alfred Jarry Theatre to stage the Theatre of Cruelty, proved unsuccessful.
The play was based on a true incident from the sixteenth century.
Its subject was as follows:
Francesco Cenci (1549–1598) was a cruel and wealthy aristocrat of Rome. After his wife died following the birth of their seven children, he married an exceptionally beautiful woman named Petronilla. He subsequently murdered his sons and sexually abused his daughter.
One of his daughters, along with her remaining brothers and stepmother, plotted to murder Cenci. Eventually, hired assassins brutally killed him.
The conspirators were apprehended and put on trial. For the murder of Cenci, the conservative Pope ordered that all of them be beheaded.
Artaud described the experience of watching the play in these words:
“For the audience, this play will be like entering a bathhouse of fire. The spectators must participate in the performance with their souls and nerves trembling.”
The rehearsals took place under extremely difficult circumstances. The actors, imprisoned within their preconceived notions of theatre, could not understand what Artaud expected of them.
Despite numerous difficulties, the play premiered on 7 May 1935. For the audience, it proved to be a nightmare. After only seventeen performances, the production was discontinued.
The Theatre and Its Double
The Theatre and Its Double is not merely a collection of essays written by Artaud on theatre. It is a rare and significant work that captures the very pulse of theatre. It emphasises an understanding of Eastern theatre and the necessity of myths in modern theatre.
The book brings together several of Artaud’s important essays, including:
The Theatre and Culture, The Theatre and the Plague, Production and Metaphysics, Alchemical Theatre, On the Balinese Theatre, Oriental and Western Theatre, No More Masterpieces, Theatre and Cruelty, The Theatre of Cruelty, Letters on Cruelty, Letters on Language, and An Affective Athleticism, among others.
Finally
“These are the things—unbelievable, yes, unbelievable; it is the unbelievable that is true.”
Such were the thoughts that emerged from Artaud’s loneliness.
His behaviour had begun to become increasingly unusual. At times, he would walk through the streets of Dublin, waving his walking stick and insisting that people participate in his performance. At other times, he would entertain the thought of incorporating the power of Jesus Christ within himself.
During the final years of his life, Artaud was confined to mental asylums. For nearly nine years, in the name of treatment, he was forced to endure the torture of electric shocks without being anaesthetised.
Artaud remained engaged in his search for his own theatre throughout his life. In his fragmented words, he once said:
“I know that my behaviour is gradually deteriorating. Whenever I use my walking stick, I experience a sense of inadequacy within myself and an emptiness in my soul.”
Through the efforts of Arthur Adamov, Marthe Robert, André Breton, Braque, Picasso, Giacometti, Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir and others, Artaud was eventually released from the asylum and moved to a private nursing home.
There, he devoted whatever remaining energy he possessed to writing an important essay after viewing the paintings of Van Gogh.
At the age of fifty-two, physically and emotionally devastated by pain, torture, rejection and loneliness, Artaud was found sitting peacefully beside his bed on 4 March 1948.
It was an embrace of death and tranquillity.
Was all this merely Artaud’s madness, or was he trying to communicate something extraordinarily important that the world, during the period of the World Wars, was simply unwilling to understand?
Perhaps the audience and theatre critics of his time were not prepared for the kind of theatre Artaud was imagining—a theatre that sought to transcend material existence towards spirituality and move beyond reality into the realm of imagination.
Despite the cruelty inflicted upon the founder of the Theatre of Cruelty, Artaud and his theatrical philosophy continue to shine in the firmament of world theatre as a brilliant and intriguing enigma, one that remains to be explored and understood.
But, as the saying goes, some people are extraordinarily gifted, and it takes several generations of ordinary human beings to understand what they are trying to communicate. And when that understanding finally arrives, people are left wondering why they failed to understand it all along.
Artaud says: “The tragedy that takes place on stage no longer matters much to me. I want to see it happening in my own life.”
