Video: Blok/Eko

Howard Barker’s Blok/Eko, produced last summer by the Wrestling School at the Exeter Northcott Theatre and directed by the author, “is a large-scale drama about death and its status in the world.” The story:

Eko, an aging despot, seemingly on a whim, liquidates the entire medical profession, asserting that consolation — in the form of song — is a better way with sickness than drugs or surgery. A connoisseur herself, she knows great song is itself the distillation of suffering and so deliberately exposes her greatest poet Tot to a life of crime, poverty and humiliation in order to extract from him his finest work.

Below is a short sample of the production’s visual and linguistic imagination. The text itself is available from Oberon Books here; the Wrestling School’s archival page for the production is available here. You can also read my review of Barker’s memoir A Style and Its Origins, as well as an overview of Barker’s career as seen through the perspective of critic David Ian Rabey.

Howard Barker on elitism and pessimism in the drama

Society has an institutional investment in the eradication of pain and the elimination of tragedy from the sphere of art. Tragedy is inherently irrational, it affirms the limits of social action and therefore is fundamentally immune to the propaganda of the state and the revolution alike. It is no surprise then, that in an age of ideology and welfare the conventional dominant forms of popular theatre have been comic or musical, and no wonder that governments and their allies in the leisure industry have tried to smear tragedy as “pessimistic” and “elitist … ” two terms we would be wise to adopt, cherish and advertize.

Howard Barker
Arguments for a Theatre (145)

Opening tonight: Howard Barker’s The Forty

Best wishes to the cast and crew of Howard Barker’s The Forty, directed by David Ian Rabey, which opens tonight (that is, Wednesday night; damn these time zones) at the Theatr y Castell in Aberystwyth, Wales, running through 10 December. The Wednesday-Friday performances are at 7.00pm and the Saturday matinee at 1.30pm. I wish I could be there physically, but will attend in spirit; ah, how Aberystwyth haunts my memories.

Following the Thursday night performance, Rabey, a leading director and scholar of Barker’s work, will sit down for a brief dialogue with the playwright. Tickets and schedule information are available here.

Photo gallery: Sarah Kane in Victory

Though she did not seem to flourish particularly well at university, Sarah Kane said that her performance in a University of Bristol production of Howard Barker’s Victory was “an unusually brilliant experience,” and later would acknowledge Barker as a central influence on her own work. “In a few hundred years Howard will be like Shakespeare. No one will really understand what Howard Barker’s done until he’s been dead for a long time,” she noted in a later interview. Herewith a few rare photos of Kane as the widow Bradshaw in that 1989 production (staged when Kane was 19, five years before the premiere of Blasted) at the Glynne Wickham Studio Theatre, directed by Harriet Braun and Stephen Melville; I believe they are published here for the first time. I wrote about a recent PTP/NYC production of Victory here, more generally about the play here, and more about Kane here.

Left to right: Simon Pegg, Sarah Kane, and David Greig.

Graham Eatough and Sarah Kane.

Upcoming: Howard Barker’s The Forty

My readers in the United Kingdom will be interested to hear that the world premiere of Howard Barker’s 2006 play The Forty, directed by David Ian Rabey, will take place at the Theatr y Castell in Aberystwyth, Wales, on 7 December and run through 10 December. The Wednesday-Friday performances are at 7.00pm and the Saturday matinee at 1.30pm; following the Thursday night performance, Rabey, a leading director and scholar of Barker’s work, will sit down for a brief dialogue with the playwright. Tickets and schedule information are available here.

A selection from Rabey’s program notes for the production is below. It is interesting to note his short description of the funding controversy that enveloped Barker’s own Wrestling School company in 2007. Apropos my post yesterday, it is a demonstration of what happens when institutions make grants decisions based upon an implicit and assumed aesthetic of what art should (and, by extension, shouldn’t) be doing, and whether it does (or doesn’t) qualify for government support:

Howard Barker wrote The Forty (Few Words) in 2006. The Wrestling School, the theatre company dedicated to presenting Barker’s work, scheduled a production of The Forty for touring in Autumn 2007 and planned to incorporate local community performers and students into an orchestrated silent chorus of movement … . However, in 2007 the government diverted £112.5 million pounds from the Arts Council of England to pay for preparation for London’s 2012 hosting of the Olympic Games. Rather than oppose this with any public demonstration of eloquence or conviction, the Arts Council of England responded by systematically excising the criterion of “Artistic Development” (the principal ground for The Wrestling School’s funding) from consideration in its awards, and rejected the application for The Forty as “insufficient priority.” This decision not to fund this particularly innovative project was a politically ominous and significant outcome of an arts funding policy which, in its documented “assessment criteria and priorities” of May 2007, privileged an ostensibly quantifiable social utility over any commitment to, or mention of, artistic development; thus, they further diminished rather than extended the range of theatre practice [emphasis mine -- GH]. In consequence, there was no Wrestling School production in 2007: one year short of its potential celebration of twenty years of highly acclaimed international work as an independent theatre company. …

Barker’s explorations of both the singular moment and the limits of language achieve a new formal concentration and beauty in The Forty, a compendium which stretches beyond even the ambition of collections such as The Possibilities and 13 Objects to present forty short plays, each concentrating on a moment of extreme emotional tension, and foregrounding the ways in which words and gestures provide currency for negotiation, where actions manifest and question the terms of statements, in a (possibly enticing) declaration of war for the terms of life. Many of the characters in The Forty are glimpsed at crisis points, as in that resonant phrase “at the end of their tethers” as we witness the seizing and/or dying of an impulse. Characters and audiences are brought, together, towards the negotiation of a wordlessness. These are elliptical narratives, in the sense of being so condensed as to be ambiguous: do they present a prelude, or an aftermath (or both)? The audience is invited to imagine further beyond, on the basis of an active, tensile incompletion in word and deed: a fateful hinge moment, and the surrounding tensile readiness, forceful disengagement, despairing submission, or shocking nonchalance. Anne Bogart notes how both violent events and powerful aesthetic experiences induce a silence, a space and time where “language ceases”:

We are left only with an awareness of the limits of language and the limits of what can be taken in. In this gap definitions disappear and certainty vanishes. Anything is possible — any response, any action or inaction. Nothing is prescribed. Nothing is certain.[1]

This is a point similarly identified by Alphonso Lingis: “At the moment when none of the anticipated words are there, we are held in the present, a present disconnected from the chain of word-vectors of the past and from the anticipated conclusion.”[2]

This is the focal point of The Forty. Barker brilliantly captures this sense of theatre’s transaction with the unknown and unknowable:

The play only appears to be about the living because the actors are living. The  characters have never lived, nor by the same token, can they ever be said to be  dead. Theatre is situated on the bank of the Styx (the side of the living). The actually dead cluster at the opposite side, begging to be recognized. What is it they have to tell? Their mouths gape …[3]

Welcome to our forty journeys into the unspeakable; in search of…

Footnotes
  1. Anne Bogart, And Then, You Act (Abingdon: Routledge, 2007), pp. 2-3. []
  2. Lingis, Dangerous Emotions (California,  Berkeley, 2000), p. 165. []
  3. Barker, Death, The One and the Art of Theatre, (Abingdon: Routledge, 2005), p. 20. []