In the process of developing his concept of performance, Max Herrmann thoroughly examined the mediality, materiality, and aestheticity of performance. Yet, he mostly ignored the semioticity of performance because, in his time, it still was identified with the semioticity of the dramatic text. Theatre critics and literary scholars asserted that the meanings drawn from the text would be expressed through theatrical means in the performance and thus conveyed to the audience. According to Herrmann’s contemporaries, performativity was subordinated to expressivity in performance. The relationship between actors and spectators was considered only in so far as the actors were capable of “appropriately” expressing the “correct” meanings and communicating those to the audience. In contrast, Max Herrmann understood the bodily co-presence of actors and spectators to constitute performance. Insofar as the performance’s semioticity was derived from a literary text and evaluated accordingly, it held no interest for him.
The abandonment of literary theatre advocated by members of the historical avant-garde – especially Craig, the Futurists, Dadaists, and Surrealists, Meyerhold, the Bauhaus theatre, and Artaud – rendered obsolete the reference to meaning generated by the literary texts. Theatre was repeatedly called upon to stop conveying meaning and instead to concentrate on producing effects. Variety theatre and the circus were hailed as alternatives to literary and, particularly, realistic-psychological theatre. In their two manifestos, “The Variety Theatre“ (1913) and “The Futurist Synthetic Theatre” (1915), the Italian Futurists proclaimed that, following the principles of variety and circus shows, theatre should be “transform[ed] … into a theatre of amazement, record-setting, and body-madness” (Marinetti 1973: 130). Numerous attempts to create a new form of theatre that did not aim at conveying meaning were also undertaken in the nascent Soviet Union. They, too, took recourse to the circus. In 1920, Sergei Radlov, who had worked in Meyerhold’s studio between 1913 and 1916, founded a circus theatre in which clowns, acrobats, and jugglers appeared on stage next to and also as actors. His goal was to establish a new form of comic popular theatre (he had to shut it down again in 1922 because the initially numerous audiences stayed away). In the years 1922 and 1923 the so- called “Factory of the Eccentric Actor” (FEKS) also experimented with circus and variety.
For our purposes, Meyerhold’s attempts to apply circus to theatre are particularly relevant. His production of Sukhovo-Kobylin’s grotesque farce The
Death of Tarelkin (1922), in which Sergei M. Eisenstein also participated, was the
most successful and well-known result of these efforts. A year later, Eisenstein in his turn based his production of Ostrovsky’s comedy Even a Wise Man Stumbles (1922/23) on a circus model. In his view, emphasized even 20 years later in the tract Method (1943–7),
circus shows [are] … a case in which we are dealing with a subgenre of art, which in its pure form preserves only the sensual component … which in all other cases merely is a form of embodiment of some material-notional contents. This is why the circus necessarily functions like a peculiar, sensualizing bath … This is why the circus simply does not allow for any ‘meaning’ or application which aims at conveying meaning.
(cited in Ivanov 1985: 248) Although Meyerhold and Eisenstein agreed that sensuality in the circus aimed not at the transmission of meaning but produced immediate effects, making it so suitable a model for a new theatre, Meyerhold nonetheless diverged in his artistic conclusions. In his view, theatre had to account for the very circumstance that spectators now defined themselves as “co-participant[s] and creator[s] of a new
meaning.” Once the actors refrained from transmitting predetermined meaning to
the spectators and restricted themselves to emitting sensuality and materiality, it would be up to the individual spectator to generate meaning on the basis of this materiality. The spectator thus becomes the creator of new meaning.
Theatre and performance artists since the 1960s as well as the above-mentioned members of the historical avant-garde movement have proceeded from the assumption that the aim of the performance cannot be to transmit meaning generated only by one segment of its participants – be it the actors, the director, set designer, composer, or even playwright – to another, that is, the audience. Performances do not serve the transmission of meaning, as Eisenstein put it. This causes problems for the avant-garde and the artists of the 1960s when it comes to the relationship between materiality and semioticity and between effect and meaning. Thosemembers of the historical avant-garde who tried to formulate a new aesthetics of effect (Wirkungsaesthetik ) came to the following conclusion: reducing theatrical means to their materiality/sensuality prevented the actors from constituting meaning but enabled the spectators to generate meaning in their turn. The constitution of meaning through the actors precluded the desired immediate effect on the spectators. An aesthetics of effect thus required the actors to refrain from any sort of meaning constitution.
Over the course of the last 30 or 40 years, theatre and performance artists have not yet found definitive answers to these questions. As our analysis thus far revealed, they are also not interested in finding such answers. Fundamentally, they do not think of materiality and semioticity or effect and meaning as mutually
exclusive, that is to say as constituting a dichotomous relationship per se. Instead, they persistently question how these categories relate to one another and take multiple approaches to probing these relationships in every performance. The artists examine how meaning is generated in performance, what it does, and what its effects are. In this chapter, I will try to make explicit what the performances considered above have implicitly formulated about the specific semioticity of performances within the aesthetics of the performative.
Materiality, signifier, signified
Performances since the 1960s have repeatedly disconnected individual theatrical tools from their larger contexts. They have not only ceased to subordinate those tools to the logic of action and psychology but tried to liberate them from all causal interconnection. Following specific geometric or rhythmic patterns, or determined by chance operations, these elements appear in space, are stabilized for varying periods of time, and, in some cases, undergo a continuous process of transformation before they vanish again without a comprehensible reason or specific motivation for either appearing or disappearing. It seems that the appearing elements can largely, if not exclusively, be described as emergent phenomena.
The emergence of the various elements leads to a process which, at first, seems paradoxical and which bears for the performances’ semioticity. Emerging in isolation, these elements appear de-semanticized because they are perceived in their specific materiality and not as carriers of meaning; they are neither put in relation to other elements nor to any other context. In this sense, the elements are insignificant – devoid of meaning.
Once perceived in their materiality, these isolated emergent phenomena trigger a wealth of associations, ideas, thoughts, memories, and emotions in the perceiving subjects, enabling them to make connections to various other phenomena. They are evidently perceived as signifiers which refer to diverse ideas and contexts and can be related to a range of signifieds. The isolated materiality of the various elements thus effects an immense pluralization of potential meaning. How can we explain this paradox? I briefly touched upon the de-semanticization thesis;1I tried
to demonstrate in how far it might be justified (that is, within the larger logic of action and psychology which attributes a single or several specific meanings to each element) but why it still is insufficient. When analyzing Wilson’s use of slow motion I showed that this technique did not de-semanticize but highlight the gestures’ self- referentiality. A gesture therefore means exactly what it performs; it is perceived as a movement, say, of the bent arm from the hip to eye level. The analysis of this example applies to all other cases in which the de-semanticization thesis becomes relevant. When the gesture with which Marina Abramović carved a five-pointed star into her skin was perceived as just that – and not as a symbolic act signifying the inscription of the state onto a citizen’s individual body – it was not perceived as insignificant but merely as that which it performed. When the spectators did not perceive the fat, excessive body of Giancarlo Paludi as representing the figure
of Cicero but as an almost shapeless body that filled the space, they perceived him in the very way he appeared – in his phenomenal being.
What I have illustrated in reference to bodies and gestures also applies to spaces, things, colors, sounds, and so forth. To perceive theatrical elements in their specific materiality is to perceive them as self-referential and in their phenomenal being. Does that simultaneously imply perceiving them as insignificant? Is it possible to equate the perception of objects in their specific materiality to their perception as insignificant,purely “sensual” phenomena?
When I perceive the actor’s body as a unique body; when I observe the specific redness and taste the peculiar sweetness of the blood sprayed on the lamb’s carcass, the actors, and spectators in Nitsch’s actions; when I feel the intestines under my feet in their particular consistency and elasticity, I am perceiving all these phenomena
as something. I do not respond to an unspecific stimulus, I perceive something as
something. The things signify what they are or as what they appear. To perceive something as something means to perceive it as meaningful. Materiality, signifier, and signified coincide in the case of self-referentiality. Materiality does not act as a signifier to which this or that signified can be attributed. Rather, materiality itself has to be seen as the signified already given in the materiality perceived by the subject. To use a tautology, the thing’s materiality adopts the meaning of its materiality, that is, of its phenomenal being. What the object is perceived as is what it signifies.
This applies only to conscious perception. To perceive something consciously means to perceive it as something. While we constantly perceive things that do not cross the threshold of consciousness but still influence our behavior (Roth 2001: 217), these subconscious perceptions remain meaningless for the perceiving subject and cannot be taken into consideration here because nobody can claim any knowledge of them. Only the observable behavior they might stimulate offers a trace of these subconscious processes. These visible responses in turn become part of the autopoietic feedback loop.
Since, strictly speaking, the de-semanticization thesis concerns the phenomenon of self-referentiality, it can be more accurately defined as a very specific process of constituting meaning. In this process, perception grasps something as something. Hence something is not first perceived as something to which meaning is subsequently attributed. Rather, meaning is generated in and through the act of perception.
The sudden, unmotivated emergence of a phenomenon directs the spectators’ attention to that particular gesture, that specific thing, or that one melody. As a result, the spectators’ perception might gain a special quality, which precludes the question of other possible meanings, functions, or usages, or also of other framing contexts for the phenomena’s emergence. Perception unfolds as a kind of contemplative immersion into that gesture, thing, or melody, in which the perceived elements show themselves to the perceiving subject as what they are: they reveal their “intrinsic meaning.” Such a revelation occurs when the perceiving subject experiences the presence of an actor or the ecstasy of a thing. A secret is seemingly
unearthed in that moment: the secret meaning “given” in the phenomenal being of the object is “uncovered,” or rather, brought forth, in the act of perception.
Hence, we are not dealing with a process of de-semanticization but of self- referentiality. Self-referentiality collapses the binary opposition that plays such a central role for the historical avant-garde and in aesthetic theories more generally: the divide between the sensual perception of an object, seen mostly as a physiological process, and the attribution of meaning, considered a mental activity.
Once again, I would like to illustrate my point with an example from the everyday. When I perceive the particular redness of a traffic light in the rain, and become fascinated by its constantly changing and glittering nuances so far so that I get lost in the image, I am perceiving it as something other than the sign to stop. In both cases my perception gives rise to specific meanings: first, to that of a particularly fascinating sensual impression, and second, to a code of conduct. To put it plainly and perhaps provocatively: conscious perception always creates meaning. “Sensual impressions” can therefore be more accurately described as meaning of which I become conscious through specific sensual impressions. None of these impressions can easily be expressed linguistically. I might actually have trouble putting them into words, finding them ultimately incommensurable with linguistic expression and only very inadequately describable. This circumstance strongly suggests that these meanings can be equated to states of consciousness but not to linguistic meanings.
In the past 30 years, performances have frequently severed their theatrical components from any sort of wider context or causal chain but instead infused them with repetition in order to show them clearly as emergent, self-referential phenomena. Thus, audiences have been sensitized to the insight that perception and the generation of meaning constitute one and the same process. Beyond grasping materiality, the sudden inexplicable and unmotivated emergence of a phenomenon forms the condition for another type of perception. While the phenomenon is initially perceived in its phenomenal being, it begins to be perceived as a signifier as soon as the focus strays away from the perceived object and into the realm of association. It thus becomes interlinked with ideas, memories, sensations, and emotions as signifieds. It remains to be seen according to which rules these associations appear and what effect they have.
If a spectator suffers from a phobia, such as the fear of horses – like Freud’s little Hans – or spiders and snakes, then Grueber’s Bacchae, Fabre’s She was and she
is, even, and Abramović’s Dragon Heads would likely have revived that phobia, even
if we cannot say this with absolute certainty. If we exclude these exceptional cases, it seems utterly impossible to predict what types of associations might be induced by the perception of an object, regardless of whether the perceiving subject is able to identify legitimate chains of thought in retrospect. The most famous example in this context would be Proust’s madeleine dipped in tea which, once smelled and tasted, released a flow of memories in him. The example illustrates that there exists a direct link between smell, taste, and the memories released by them. Yet,
the particular memories are neither imperative nor even particularly likely. They appear in the perceiving subject’s consciousness through an unfixed process. The smell and taste of a madeleine dipped in tea will not trigger these memories each time they are perceived by Proust – neither did he seek and invite them consciously and deliberately.
The disconnection of emergent phenomena from predetermined contexts evidently creates favorable conditions for putting the perceiving spectators in a state similar to that experienced by Proust with his madeleine. The phenomena can be attached to any spontaneous or associative context. These connections are made only rarely at a conscious and intentional level, as for example in Snuff, where a spectator perceiving the ovens tried to remember where they had seen such ovens before and chanced on autobiographical instances in the process. Associations, however, occur without being called for or sought out. They simply arise in the consciousness of the perceiving subject. As memories, associations refer to past experiences, lessons, or knowledge. They interweave unique subjective experiences with inter-subjectively valid cultural codes. Moreover, the same associations might appear as sudden intuitions, new ideas, or thoughts and thus surprise the perceiving subject more than any other type of association (because they cannot fathom how association and perception interrelate).
In both cases, meanings are generated unintentionally by the perceiving subject. They appear neither as a result of any sort of causal nexus nor of the concerned subject’s intentions. Their emergence is inexplicable and unmotivated. In this context, the associative generation of meaning strikingly differs from an intentional process of interpretation. Interpretation depends on searching for meanings which might “match” according to certain criteria, although, even in this case, they might not always be accessible to the interpreting subject. Associative meaning, however, emerges without the intention and effort of the concerned subjects and sometimes even against their wills. The associative generation of meaning can therefore be described as an instance of emergence.
Insofar as associations occur as thoughts, they remain within consciousness both as memories and new meanings, except when the concerned subject is gripped by the novelty of their own thoughts. In that case, the subject’s excitement might articulate itself physically in a palpitating heart, bouts of sweat, or motoric restlessness perceivable by others. Alternatively, the subject may feel the urge to note down their experiences, which again leads to a perceptible action. Sensations and emotions tend to articulate themselves physically and often in perceptible ways, be it through shivers, sobs, or, most often, motoric restlessness. As long as they can be seen, heard, smelt, or sensed by the other spectators and/or actors, these articulations become part of the autopoietic feedback loop. Effectively, the meanings emerging in the consciousness as signifieds for the objects perceived as signifiers can indeed contribute to the autopoietic feedback loop. Both are acts of materialization: either meanings become perceptible once articulated physically, or they stimulate physically traceable reactions.
By isolating the various theatrical elements, performance since the 1960s gives rise to two very different types of perception and generation of meaning. In each case, the relationship between materiality, signifier, and signified is different. In the first case, the phenomenon is perceived as what it appears, i.e. in its phenomenal being, so that materiality, signifier, and signified coincide. In the second case, they markedly diverge from each other. The phenomenon is perceived as a signifier that can be linked to a diverse range of signifieds. The meanings ascribed to the phenomenon are not dependent on the subject’s will but appear in consciousness spontaneously – even if, retrospectively, they can oftentimes be explained rationally. While initially emerging meanings still directly relate to the perceived object, later ones hardly bear any relation at all. Already generated meanings thus produce more meanings. Both types of generated meanings share a common trait: they are not based on inter-subjective codes or conventionally accepted ascriptions.
The ways in which these acts of perceiving and generating meaning operate reveal remarkable parallels to Benjamin’s concepts of “symbol” and “allegory.” While the similarity is obscured by the fact that Benjamin’s art theory is rooted in his language theory and was developed in conjunction with a particular philosophy