Divina Infusino has an interesting article in the Huffington Post about the UK's National Theatre's HD-broacasting program, in which they simulcast performances at cinemas in Europe, and air them a few days or weeks later in other nations (including the US). Infusino attended the live performance of Phedre with Helen Mirren and Dominic Cooper at the NT, then went to a rebroadcast shortly thereafter in California, and her HuffPo piece compares the two experiences.
She touches briefly on the double-edged sword of theatre's immediacy--how its fleeting character of "just these people, in this space, right now" is both its appeal and its limitation, and how the HD broadcast aims to expand its audience. It's interesting to read her comparison as well--which nuances translated well to the broadcast, what was enhanced, and what was lost.
Broadcasting theatre performances isn't a new idea--the Public Broadcasting System has been doing it for years and years. As a child and young adult, i vividly recall watching broadcast versions of Ravel's opera The Spellbound Child, George Hearn in Broadway's Sweeney Todd, and the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Nicholas Nickleby. Beyond PBS though, the concept never really took off, though perhaps this new program at the NT will change that.
Perhaps the greatest boon of the simulcast/rebroadcast idea is audience expansion. Someone who hesitates before spending $20 or $40 or $75 on a theatre ticket is much more likely to pay a movie-ticket price to check out a play--and, if they enjoy it, they might keep coming back, either to the simulcasts or to take a shot at the live version. The theatre company expands its revenue base, the broadcaster has another option for programming, and the community has another option for affordable entertainment. In fact, I think what's most interesting about the whole thing in terms of a widely-appealing concept is the idea of forging new partnerships within a particular geographical area, between a regional theatre and local or academic broadcasting services. The recession has underscored how vitally important it is for a theatre (or any other business or institution) to be strongly rooted in its community, to be considered a necessary part of its area's cultural landscape, and this could be one more way of strengthening that support base.
Infusino does mention briefly the inability of live-immediacy to transcend the broadcast medium and to maintain its "lack of a fourth wall magic," so to speak--she mentions how impressive the set was in person...the implication being, on film we're used to such grandiose spectacle that we now refer to something like an amazing sunset as 'cinematic,' so a great set on a stage is only so much background when broadcast.
There's also this interesting passage:
...which i think is a fascinating observation. The laugh in that live performance is wholly tied to the live experience, to the technical production factor--the audience's delight in the fact that there is a spigot onstage and actual water comes out of it, Hyppolytus actually ducks his head in it and is there sopping before them, that the front few rows might even catch spattered droplets before the scene ends. The laughter is partly tied to the chance for tension relief from the action, but the actual means of release is inseparable from the live medium.
Again, we're used to faucets that spew water in film, it's an accepted part of the medium--in theatre, we're always just a bit thrilled when a faucet works, or an egg actually fries on a stove, or an actor completely changes clothes in 5 seconds' time, because we seize on that: it's real. In the midst of all the acting, false walls in a stage room, performers in costumes speaking lines someone else wrote for them, that water or fried egg or incredible quick-change is a vehicle for supporting our suspension of disbelief, and that's what makes it a theatrical moment, which is lost in film and in broadcast as well.
I'm interested though to see where simulcasting goes--it's so easy now to bring technology into any element of life. Theatres film commercials for their plays or videos of rehearsals, interviews, set builds, and put them on YouTube. We write blogs about our process, like this one, or like
nicknickleby.
Simulcasting or broadcasting a whole play isn't only limited to a company as large and reknowned as the National Theatre.
We could do it, you could do it, the local community theatre could do it.
Will we?
She touches briefly on the double-edged sword of theatre's immediacy--how its fleeting character of "just these people, in this space, right now" is both its appeal and its limitation, and how the HD broadcast aims to expand its audience. It's interesting to read her comparison as well--which nuances translated well to the broadcast, what was enhanced, and what was lost.
Broadcasting theatre performances isn't a new idea--the Public Broadcasting System has been doing it for years and years. As a child and young adult, i vividly recall watching broadcast versions of Ravel's opera The Spellbound Child, George Hearn in Broadway's Sweeney Todd, and the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Nicholas Nickleby. Beyond PBS though, the concept never really took off, though perhaps this new program at the NT will change that.
Perhaps the greatest boon of the simulcast/rebroadcast idea is audience expansion. Someone who hesitates before spending $20 or $40 or $75 on a theatre ticket is much more likely to pay a movie-ticket price to check out a play--and, if they enjoy it, they might keep coming back, either to the simulcasts or to take a shot at the live version. The theatre company expands its revenue base, the broadcaster has another option for programming, and the community has another option for affordable entertainment. In fact, I think what's most interesting about the whole thing in terms of a widely-appealing concept is the idea of forging new partnerships within a particular geographical area, between a regional theatre and local or academic broadcasting services. The recession has underscored how vitally important it is for a theatre (or any other business or institution) to be strongly rooted in its community, to be considered a necessary part of its area's cultural landscape, and this could be one more way of strengthening that support base.
Infusino does mention briefly the inability of live-immediacy to transcend the broadcast medium and to maintain its "lack of a fourth wall magic," so to speak--she mentions how impressive the set was in person...the implication being, on film we're used to such grandiose spectacle that we now refer to something like an amazing sunset as 'cinematic,' so a great set on a stage is only so much background when broadcast.
There's also this interesting passage:
After Hippolytus is stunned by Phèdre's sobbing confession of pent up desire for him, he rushes to a fountain, quickly opens the spigot and ducks his head under water to cool off from the intensity. The moment drew a laugh from the live audience. In the taped version, the relief for Hippolytus -and for the audience -was lost.
...which i think is a fascinating observation. The laugh in that live performance is wholly tied to the live experience, to the technical production factor--the audience's delight in the fact that there is a spigot onstage and actual water comes out of it, Hyppolytus actually ducks his head in it and is there sopping before them, that the front few rows might even catch spattered droplets before the scene ends. The laughter is partly tied to the chance for tension relief from the action, but the actual means of release is inseparable from the live medium.
Again, we're used to faucets that spew water in film, it's an accepted part of the medium--in theatre, we're always just a bit thrilled when a faucet works, or an egg actually fries on a stove, or an actor completely changes clothes in 5 seconds' time, because we seize on that: it's real. In the midst of all the acting, false walls in a stage room, performers in costumes speaking lines someone else wrote for them, that water or fried egg or incredible quick-change is a vehicle for supporting our suspension of disbelief, and that's what makes it a theatrical moment, which is lost in film and in broadcast as well.
I'm interested though to see where simulcasting goes--it's so easy now to bring technology into any element of life. Theatres film commercials for their plays or videos of rehearsals, interviews, set builds, and put them on YouTube. We write blogs about our process, like this one, or like
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Simulcasting or broadcasting a whole play isn't only limited to a company as large and reknowned as the National Theatre.
We could do it, you could do it, the local community theatre could do it.
Will we?