Titus and Re-ing

As an artistically motivated human on Stanford campus, I feel I am often looking for experiences with art that are most true or moving, that don’t feel forced or derivative. That quest may seem pretentious, most artists at Stanford are trying to make these true, clean gestures toward feeling, it is no fault of theirs if their work does not attain this ideal. On the other hand, my quest may seem almost hypocritical, or lacking self-reflexivity. Those concerns aside, I think my soul seeks the wonder that abounded during childhood. There is nothing quite like experiencing that awe in the face of art. Part of allowing myself to approach that wonder involves letting go of my expectations and the inner writer or performer within me.

With these concerns in mind, hopefully this statement will carry the necessary weight. When I saw Titus Andronicus at Lake Lag two weeks ago, I was overcome with awe. It’s difficult for me, even now, to unpack those feelings. When I spoke with others who had seen the performance afterward, over and over I heard people use words with the prefix re-. I pulled these two statements from the show’s facebook page: “Revitalized my belief in art. Thank you, all of you--tonight was incredible.” “Titus was wonderful! Congratulations to you all and thank you for reinvigorating my spirit in theatre.” For me, I think a big part of my reaction in the moments after the play was remembering how wonderful seeing and participating in theater can be. Live theater is fragile because it can not be contained. It is alive, in front of your eyes, but then it falls silent and disappears. It must be restaged every night.

Returning to this production specifically, what about it was so magical? The directors and producers used the setting of Lake Lag to such an extent that it became a character. When the crowd moved with the actors, dust rose into the air in swirls, clouding perception. Because audience members could chose which character to follow, there was a heightened sense of urgency. This urgency translated into a need to interpret the movement of characters within the geography of the lake, and into an awareness that the character you remain with could meet their end in a manner as mysterious to them as it is to you. Besides feeling this urgency, I was aware of an urge to remain faithful to the actor/character I began with. I observed their movements and emotions with extreme attention, even when they completed fairly quotidian tasks. I saw the unconventional staging as the director’s way of trying to communicate the consciousness and perspective of each character in a unique way. Besides observing all of their actions and dialogue, the director wanted us to understand their being and interaction with space by themselves, without the interference of other actors.