sacred theater
Lee Worley
Photo: Douglas Dickel
Regardless of differences in their styles and in the content of their work, what is consistent among the ideas of these theatrical leaders is that the performance, led by the actors, endeavors to engage in a process of transformation of actors and/or of audience. The mission of sacred theater both Asian and Western, traditional or innovative, is to act as a transformative vehicle.
Imagine that you awaken in the city of Attica in 498 B.C. just before dawn on a breezy morning in late March. You hear dogs calling to each other. A rooster crows nearby. Smoke drifts in your window from your neighbor’s kitchen fire: You dress hurriedly, sip a little cold porridge and begin to loosen up your voice as you leave the house and start down the lane. When you enter the street the sun is lighting the tops of the hills. You feel relief that you will not be late. Other people are hastening in the same direction, some singly, some in couples or groups. Everyone is headed to the theater. Continuing to vocalize softly as you go, you hope no one will notice. Ahead is a boisterous family group. Even though today is the third day of the City Dionysia festival, you think it inappropriate that people behave as if this were an invitation to rowdiness. You step into a narrow alley to avoid passing them, saving a few moments by taking this short cut. There’s no one in the lane so you let your voice out fully. Dionysus is with you; you will be in good form today. You wish Choerilus’ play had more power and, selfishly, that the judges gave prizes for acting as well as for plays. But it doesn’t matter much. The whole town will attend a performance today and you will act for them!
Once you arrive at the meeting place you and the other performers carry out a ritual to transform your everyday selves into the messengers of Dionysus. As you raise your mask you whisper a prayer that Dionysus will speak through you. The company breaks bread together and offers a glass of sanctified wine at the altar before you step out onto the orchestra (or dancing place) to begin the day’s offering.
It is pleasant to imagine that acting in ancient Greece was a holy gift and those called upon to perform considered the task a privilege. We will, however, never know how actors prepared for a performance. Although historians suggest that this was a theater created to honor the gods, all that remains for us to contemplate are a few plays, architectural ruins, inscriptions, and vase paintings. Was this a sacred theater?
Even if it was, it is possible that on occasion an actor had to perform when he was coming down with the flu or had a hangover. Rehearsals might have been marked by disputes with the playwright. The actor might have needed money or left a feverish daughter at home alone. This too is unknown.
[...]
The full article is available to sustaining members or collaborators of Dharma/Arte.
Click here to login, then click here to read the article.
