ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF THEATER (Part II)
Krzysztof Musial. Against all odds, 2023 / singulart.com
Philosopher Serhii Forkosh delves into the profound aspects of acting and the process of creating a stage character. The author explores how an actor’s encounter with the character they are to portray becomes a powerful catalyst for transformation and self-discovery, inspiring them to delve deeper into their roles.
He offers a journey through the intricate path of forming a character, beginning with the analysis of the actor’s inner self and culminating in the moment when the character comes to life on stage. Forkosh provides unique insights into how an actor’s real experiences intertwine with the imaginary, creating a fascinating and engaging theatrical experience.
Particular emphasis is placed on the distinction between the perception of a character in theater and in film, where theater becomes a space for live interaction «here and now». At the same time, cinema turns into a plane of objectified imagination.
This revelation is for those who seek to understand what happens on stage and behind the scenes and how the art of acting reflects and shapes human identity.
PERFORMING ONESELF
W
e are at a critical stage of our research. The image of oneself has already formed and become specific. Within this image, the events of one’s biography pulse, and the drama of the contradiction between the individual and the social has played out. At this stage, when I answer the question «Who am I?» beyond attempting to define myself in thought by pointing to the most essential aspects of who I am, my self-image also emerges.
Finding this image within oneself is challenging, as it directly relates to self-identification. It consists of at least two components: sensory material and a reference to oneself. The image of myself seems to encompass me, but for now, as I am unfolding the thought about my self-image, it remains «just» an image of me. Thus, the image of myself here is merely the boundary that has emerged, within which the original identity of the self is recognized as a presented whole.
On stage, we see an actor playing a role, embodying an image. But how is this possible? What conditions make the encounter with images feasible? And, in general, what does it mean to be an actor?
First and foremost, I know that it is indeed me (we remember that within this self, both the «mine» and my social role have already emerged), and it is only under this condition that the enactment of myself as «the other» becomes possible. This «other» is something I can relate to as not myself and not something within me, but rather as something that still awaits me, something I have yet to reach. Between the «image of myself» and the «other image», because the new image is still awaited, a free space is formed.
In this space, I can contemplate my boundaries as well as the outlines of others, the expected image. In this free field (a creative space), the self, initially positing itself, possessing its boundaries, contours, and uniqueness, knowing itself in a particular way, and articulating itself, becomes free from itself as something immediate.
Further, this free self, through its uniqueness and in a unique manner, encounters the newly emerged image, the features of which, when fused, reveal new boundaries of my individuality as well as the other image, which now appears not merely as a symbol, not just as an «other» awaiting embodiment, but as an individualized image.
Thus, the image of this individualization comes to life. This life is precisely the life of the image, meaning that the image here is recognized and functions «merely» as an image (as a played role). However, in becoming engrossed in the embodied image, both the viewer and the actor can «forget» that it is just an image and «believe» that what is presented is an actual event.
In this state of belief, in this acceptance, the play of appearances (semblance) fades away, and a series of actual events begins. That is, the play that is being performed and that loses itself in embodying the intended action in the best possible way can, albeit temporarily, suspend itself, becoming an actual event for the viewer.
THE ACTOR IS IMAGELESS
The becoming of an actor implies a dual relationship with the image. On the one hand, the actor perceives themselves as having the potential to realize an image; on the other hand, their self becomes a «being not-an-actor». Thus, the actor is something that has stepped outside of itself. In other words, once the possibility of a new image of «self» arises, when this path becomes possible, the conditionality of one’s image, the image of the self that imagined itself to be «itself» and nothing more, immediately becomes apparent.
Acting is a way of embodying an image. In imagination, the image plays itself out, but to play a role (to represent an image) is possible only by realizing it — by transferring it from imagination into reality, where the image gains its fullness and concreteness. The concreteness and fullness of the image’s embodiment imply the intersection of unexpected traits of oneself as the original image, the anticipated image, and the environment with which the newly embodied image interacts, thus coming to life and filling with individuality.
Acting is an action that presupposes both the known and the suddenly occurring, where the real and the imagined enter into a surprising debate. One could also say that acting generalizes non-identical events, which in this context is defined as the life of the image.
In this free (creative) space, being outside of oneself (outside of one’s image), the actor opens up to the image of «the other». Now, the actor is «in character». Does the actor then become someone else? No, the actors, as actors, become themselves precisely through this process, for «being an actor» consists of embodying images without becoming the other, without forgetting the conditionality, without dissolving the play, and without transitioning in perception to the real.
The actor knows that they are acting; the actor understands (and maintains this understanding) that it is precisely a stage, a performance, a representation. The actor is needed here exactly as they are, in their complete individuality and self-understanding, because the embodiment of an image is possible only through an encounter, not through passive acceptance, which would lead merely to imitation.
For the actor, the image is primarily an expression of certain facets of themselves. The actor transitions, becomes aware of their boundary, and, in this very process, reveals the transcendence of that boundary. But as we’ve already noted, a boundary can only emerge in the presence of another image. It’s important to note here that the picture represents one’s fullness, filling the entire space of possibilities. For the image «from within», there is no «understanding» or recognition of its boundary; the image is something that is unaware of itself, something that exists entirely within itself.
The «other», the «this», and the «boundless» are impossible for the image — as they are in thought — they do not act as markers that reveal the boundary of the image. The other and the boundary are quantitative relationships, relationships of indifference. Indifferent relationships remain within the space of the image, fill it, and vary it, but do not reveal it.
Only another image is capable of something similar. Another image, possessing its wholeness and its boundary, is the only thing that can reveal the boundary of the first image (uncover the internal). Thus, contrast (rather than difference, which is only possible within the image) arises as a relationship between totalities.
So, the actor creates the illusion of what they are performing but seeks to transcend this illusion by moving towards the real. The performance cannot and should not become a reality in what it portrays; it must remain a demonstration (albeit a real one), an exit, and a transition.
A play, as a performance creating the illusion, must remain this wavering, balancing event, for it reveals this dynamic boundary and transition between the real and the imagined. It is in this revelation that it must persist. If we suppose that the play loses itself, transitioning its content into an actual event, it becomes flat, reduced to a single dimension; on the other hand, if the content of the play does not strive towards the real, no matter how fantastical its content may be, it loses the power of demonstrating the transition, and the performance becomes mere play, an empty form, confined solely to the temporal duration of the internal event.
THE LIFE OF IMAGES
Now, let’s consider how an embodied image lives for the viewer. One form of relating to the life of an image is through (co)experiencing the event on stage. The simple experience of the event is the initial relationship to what is happening. Here, there is no dual relationship, as in the (co)experiencing of an event in the theater. On the one hand, the viewer understands the conditionality of what is happening, but this does not prevent them from empathizing with the character. As already noted, the viewer exists simultaneously in two dimensions.
What happens in the theater and what is being performed possesses its own logic and internal integrity, creating an image and telling a story, and in doing so, it «engages» the viewer. The main question now is how the viewer’s understanding (awareness) of the conditionality of what is happening — understanding that what is presented is «merely» the semblance of reality and not something real (of course, movement, voice, clothing, etc., are real, but what they express and enact is not accurate) — relates to their empathetic experience of the performance.
Despite the fact that «belief in the real» is suspended or turned off during the viewing of a play, the empathetic response to the semblance persists. We might say, «I don’t believe this», or «This isn’t really happening», or «What I see is just a play, just a performance, an illusion».
So why is it that this «just», this objectively performed action before us (and in this sense, it is real), presents something that is not real in the «now», something that is not synchronous with actual events, and yet is still experienced and empathized with by us? This question could also be phrased as: «How significant is the acceptance or belief in reality for us?»
A theatrical performance presents us with the real and the imagined at the same time! We can close our eyes and imagine a fantastical image, or we can look at (perceive) a sunrise. These are different modes or ways of being in the world — perception and imagination.
The play shows us, so to speak, two dimensions of human existence that shade each other, necessarily intertwining within it. We are both in the theater and in the performance itself. We constantly move from one dimension to the other. We are here, but we are also not here. We are honest, but at the same time, we are «merely» what imagines and what is imagined.
Belief in the real is a way or a foundation (guaranteed by actual processes themselves) that makes it possible to «transcend» reality. This opens up an understanding of how exactly we are integrated into reality, that is, to what extent and in what aspects we are necessarily accurate, and this also means to what extent and in what aspects we find ourselves as imagined.
The imagined always emerges «from» the real, meaning that the real is something that «already» and always exists, something that already drives us, even when we do not understand it. The play is interesting not only because of what is presented within it (through it), not only as a cultural (historically conditioned) phenomenon but also because of its ontological structure, because it exists as this two-dimensionality.
Through this transition of play into reality, and also of reality into play, the image, its possibility, its understanding, reveals to us the nature of our consciousness, which consists of this dual relationship to reality — on the one hand, we are real ourselves and experience the world as a natural flow of events, and on the other hand, we perceive the world in a modified form of an image, something that points to something else, something that transcends itself through the other. We exist in two temporal streams — the stream of reality and the stream of the imagined. It is in this dialectic that our life unfolds.
So, empathy is real, while the object of my empathy (the character in the performance) is not real. Here before me is a suffering person; I feel for them, pity them, and try to help them. They are given to me through perception — I recognize their suffering, I see their wound, I hear their cry.
But then an actor does the same thing while playing the role of a suffering person. Their suffering is woven into a context, embedded in a story, and according to this story, the character suffers due to the cruelty, injustice of the world, and so on.
Why do I empathize with them if I understand that «in reality», nothing of the sort is happening and that even the actor playing the role (pretending to suffer) is actually OK? Why do I feel compassion for an illusion? Why do I believe in the deception, even knowing it’s a deception?
What is performed and presented before me, objectified, is not merely an illusion but also a kind of sign of possibility, indicating that what happens as a play and a performance «could» indeed happen in reality. The image here reveals one of the possible scenarios (which has not yet occurred or is occurring in another place at the same time or something that «could have actually happened»), and the more convincingly the actor plays, the more realistic the scenario seems — that «this could have been».
In other words, imagination here opens up the fullness of real scenarios, which means that reality is significant to us not only through what is immediately perceived but also through any possible scenarios that can be imagined as «what could happen». If the connection between the possible (given through imagination) and the real were excluded, would we still be able to empathize? It is precisely for this reason that the theater is a unique temple of empathy and compassion.
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