From Documentary Theater to Documenting Theater*
By Roee Joseph
From the essay "Being Between Things: On the Documentary Project in Theater," published as an epilogue to the play "Shura: The Mission of Identifying Life," which was written following Roee's reserve service in the Shura camp immediately after October 7th, recently published jointly by Pardes Publishing and Tmuna Plays. In the full essay, Roee seeks to address the question of the inner essence of documentary theater while maintaining a dialogue with Aristotle's concepts in "Poetics."
Modern documentary theater—meaning theater that identifies itself as such—developed during the 20th century in the Weimar Republic in the work of Erwin Piscator, although earlier forms already appeared in the Soviet Union. It was Piscator who explicitly referred to documentary theatre as an art form composed entirely of existing texts woven together. In his productions, Piscator incorporated textual documents (such as protocols, newspaper articles, and others) as well as visual materials (projections of photographs and video) into the work itself. In discussing the documentary nature of his theater, he used the term “facts,” and indeed, the evolution of the definition of documentary theater included the use of this term. The Oxford Companion to the Theatre (1983) provides a definition for “documentary theater,” referring to it as “theater of facts.” This definition is based on the idea that such theater includes “documentary plays primarily based on the ‘facts’ of history.”
If we trace the development of the definition, we find that in the Oxford Handbook of Theatre and Performance (2010), documentary theatre is defined as follows: “plays that are written, compiled, or even improvised directly from documentary sources [...] although many plays throughout history have been based on facts, documentary plays are characterized by their closer proximity to source materials, and they often incorporate the documents themselves within the performance.”
Thus, it appears that the most developed definition that can encompass documentary theatre is one that anchors it in the use of documents—that is, documented materials drawn from reality—within the work itself. The emphasis of this definition is that the work is not only based on real events, but also incorporates documents, meaning texts that exist in reality independently of the documentary work. In other words, documentary theater as it developed in the 20th century is “documentary” in the sense that it is theater based on documents.
Originally, documentary-based theater was based on the aspiration to present a certain image of reality as reflected through documents. Its driving force was the desire to reveal a truth that could be uncovered through the construction of a narrative line emerging from documents organized according to aesthetic and dramaturgical principles. The peak of this form of theatre lay in its ability to expose to the public documents that had not yet been revealed. The conceptual foundation of this kind of theatre, as can be seen for example in the writings of Erwin Piscator, is rooted in the perception that reality is composed of facts that can be presented through evidence expressed in documents, whose combination can constitute a representation of factual truth regarding reality. Consistent with this view of reality, in its early stages this theatre was part of political—and at times even partisan—activity. In a certain sense, it can be seen as a theatre that seeks to explain the reality to which it refers through a “historical” method, which includes extensive research and the extraction of claims and narratives from historical sources, namely documents.
With its development, documentary theater opened itself to additional possibilities, and its political meaning gradually expanded. It appears that its power today is no longer based on its ability to reveal previously undisclosed documents, but rather on its capacity to focus on documents that are publicly available yet have not received attention within the ongoing flow of information (for example, performances based on protocols).
It also appears that over time, within documentary theatre, possibilities emerged that go beyond its intention to “explain” reality, and creators have operated within the documentary framework in order to offer a renewed—and at times even subversive—interpretation of the documents they use and through which they work. One of the central questions characterizing the development of documentary theatre, in my view, is the question: “What can be considered a document?” Possible answers, as reflected in documentary works, constitute part of the ongoing development of documentary theatre (for example: date and time, person, body, place, object). Another question raised by contemporary documentary theatre is to what extent documents can indeed testify to reality. In any case, it seems that the definition “document-based theatre” successfully encompasses these developments as well.
The Documenting Turn
Within the development of documentary theatre, there is a certain direction that, in my view, cannot be included under the definition of “document-based theatre.” This direction includes works that, within their creative process, also seek to produce the very documents that will later be used. In other words, one might say that documentary theatre shifts from “documentary theatre”—one based on documents—to “documenting theatre,” one that assumes the function of documentation itself.
Contemporary documentary works often constitute an act of documentation to such an extent that there are pieces which, had they not been created, the documentation itself would not have taken place: “100% City” by Rimini Protokoll; “The Laramie Project” by Moisés Kaufman and members of the Tectonic Theater Project ensemble; “Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992” by Anna Deavere Smith, and others.
Thus, it seems that a definition is needed that can continue to encompass the documentary project in theatre, and that it must also address the function of documentation itself. The shift from pre-existing documentation to documentation generated as part of the creative work may indicate not only a change in practice, but also a certain turning point in the foundational assumptions of documentary theatre—one that may guide a rethinking of its theoretical definition. The theoretical definition, which by its nature is still evolving, also requires appropriate methods and methodologies that stem from it. I would like to propose the spirit of the ethnographic method, developed within the work of cultural anthropologist Clifford Geertz, as one that can serve creators when engaging in the documentary theatre project.
Ethnography as an Artistic Method
Anthropology is the science that studies human culture. One of the branches of anthropology is cultural anthropology, of which the American anthropologist Clifford Geertz is considered one of its most prominent figures. In his collection of works, "The Interpretation of Cultures," Geertz provides a definition of the concept of "culture," drawing on Max Weber's statement that "man is an animal caught in webs of significance he himself has spun." These webs, according to Geertz, are culture.
Ethnography is the work of anthropologists. That is, it is what they do to establish anthropological knowledge. It includes various activities: conducting observations, staying for an extended period in another culture and writing a field diary, holding formal or informal conversations with informants, and more. Geertz seeks to see ethnography as a process for obtaining data. He characterizes it according to the type of intellectual effort it makes and he places it on what he calls "full description."
"A Full Description"
“Thick description” is the way in which the ethnographer observes and describes the social expressions they seek to understand. Clifford Geertz contrasts the concept of “thick description” with that of “thin description”: the latter aspires to be as objective as possible, while the former includes an interpretive dimension. One of the well-known examples Geertz uses, borrowed from the British philosopher Gilbert Ryle, is the following: Ryle describes a situation in which “two boys rapidly contract the eyelids of their right eyes.” He explains that for one of them this is an involuntary twitch, while for the other it is a signal to a friend—in other words, a wink. Geertz’s central claim is that the difference between an involuntary twitch and a meaningful wink cannot be derived from the bare factual description—what he calls “thin description”: “rapidly contracts the eyelid of his right eye”—and that only thick description allows us to understand the movement as a wink, that is, as a gesture embedded within a cultural framework.
“Thick description” is concerned with extracting structures of meaning from the observed object, and ethnography, according to Geertz, is that “bold and intricate journey” within thick description. The purpose of thick description, as mentioned, is to achieve anthropological knowledge of the observed culture, or in one of Geertz’s formulations: to “find one’s feet”—to gain a foothold. In other words, the ethnographer places themselves within a specific place, time, and set of circumstances, with the aim of understanding, of finding a ground on which to stand. Through writing up their findings, the ethnographer makes it possible to articulate the basis of this foothold so that others may understand it.
I find that “thick description” can serve as a highly inspiring principle for creators working within what I have called “documenting theatre.” Moreover, I believe that “thick description” is already, in a sense—even if not explicitly or consciously—a guiding principle of this type of documentary theatre, and in my view this may point to its aspirations and its underlying motivations.
Previously I argued that a shift can be identified in the theoretical foundation of documentary theatre, and I pointed to the function of documentation as marking a significant turning point in the documentary project in theatre. I would like to argue that “documenting theatre” is based on the desire “to understand,” which is a key term in Clifford Geertz’s anthropology. The concept of “thick description,” which in my view can be seen as an organizing principle of documenting theatre, serves it in giving voice to reality and thereby allowing the hidden meanings within it to emerge.
Creators within documenting theatre effectively take upon themselves the task of understanding a particular phenomenon in reality—whether an event, a society, a specific group of people, a place, a concept, and so on—by positioning themselves as close to it as possible and using ethnography, that is, “thick description,” in order to extract the structures of meaning from that phenomenon, so that they may find “a foothold.”
Therefore, I argue that the shift occurring in documentary theatre does not concern only its techniques, but its very task, its conceptual foundation, and its stance toward reality.
Fieldwork and Formulation of Findings
At this stage I would like to examine how Geertz’s ethnography, and the principle of “thick description” on which it is based, can actually guide creators of documenting theatre in practice. In a certain sense, Clifford Geertz divides the ethnographic act into two parts: (1) the collection of data; (2) the formulation of findings. The collection of data, as mentioned, is not a technical procedure but an interpretive act on the part of the ethnographer in search of meanings, and it includes what is known as “fieldwork.” The formulation of findings is the act of writing itself—the preparation of the ethnographic product that expresses that “foothold” the ethnographer has achieved.
In the formulation of findings, the ethnographer provides a comprehensive interpretive analysis of the culture in which they have been immersed, based on the data they have collected. When we apply this model to documenting theatre, at a fundamental level, there is a proposal to divide the artistic process into two parts: (1) fieldwork; (2) the creation of the artistic product (whether a written play or a staged performance).
Within the framework of fieldwork, creators can adopt tools from ethnography by engaging in deliberate investigative actions that will serve as raw material for the work.
This stage can include a wide range of activities: visiting sites, observation, participation, conducting interviews, and documenting conversations. Many different tools can be used to carry out the documentation. It can be seen as a kind of “expansion of the studio.”
The next stage, the formulation of findings, is essentially the stage of writing the play, or creating the performance in cases where there is no written script. This stage, which corresponds to the writing of the ethnographic essay, functions as an interpretive act applied to the (already interpretive) process of data collection. The act of writing itself thus constitutes an interpretation of the fieldwork. I would like to share several lines of thought regarding the writing of a play based on fieldwork.
Writing That Erases
I tend to think of the process of writing a play based on ethnographic fieldwork as a form of “writing that is also erasure.”
First, in a literal sense: once a certain volume of ethnographic material has been collected, it must be reduced in order to write a play based on it. Fieldwork can generate a vast amount of material, whereas a play must be of a length suitable for stage performance.
Second, beyond this obvious aspect, it is important to remember that when the ethnographer works on the stage of formulating findings into an ethnographic essay, they are not simply reproducing the raw material in its entirety. Their work is one of extracting structures of meaning and producing an interpretive analysis of the foundation upon which that “foothold” becomes possible. The writing stage of the ethnographic essay is a stage of analysis, of producing certain generalizations, and of explaining and interpreting the social expressions that have been documented.
The difference between writing a play and writing an ethnographic essay lies in the fact that the ethnographer explicitly provides their interpretation and analysis as cultural critique, whereas the playwright is required to provide their overarching interpretation in accordance with artistic principles. While the ethnographer’s analysis is generally explicit and declarative, the playwright’s analysis is expressed through artistic means, primarily dramatic action and dramatic structure. These may be accompanied by a range of additional artistic tools, all aimed at extracting the structures of meaning embedded in the reality the creator seeks to give voice to.
Let us take, for example, observation. When the documentary creator has witnessed a certain event and documented it—that is, described it in a way intended to clarify it—they have produced a written sequence of words (and perhaps also used additional non-verbal documentation tools for this purpose). In writing the play, the playwright must decide whether that specific observation contributes to the play, and if so, they must transform it into a dramatic scene.
In turning this sequence of words into a scene within a play, they must decide what will be included in the play and what will not—in other words, which words will compose this scene. They must also make aesthetic decisions that will help position this particular stage image within the play in relation to other scenes, and at times they will need to bridge a gap between the raw material and the play through the artistic tools at their disposal.
The same applies to the interview—a case in which the documentary creator has recorded a conversation with a single person, which on paper may span, for example, five pages. In the process of writing the play, these five pages must be “erased” so that only the dramatic core remains: the essential necessity distilled into action.
To put it simply: while writing a fictional play requires, at the first stage, standing before a blank page and filling it, writing a documentary play requires standing before already filled pages and reducing them.
This essay is dedicated to the documentary project in theatre, yet I believe that the distinctive features of writing a documentary play produce an outcome that combines theatre and ethnography, in the sense that it contributes not only to theatre but also to ethnography itself. Clifford Geertz himself notes that ethnographers typically formulate their findings through an ethnographic essay, and that other modes of presenting findings are lacking.
I believe theatre can serve as an appropriate medium for this purpose, due to its unique characteristics
. Geertz indeed refers to culture as a “text,” in the sense that it is composed of signs that can be analyzed and deciphered, but he emphasizes that culture is something performed. Theatre is a performative art, and therefore it has an advantage in its ability to recreate embodied expressions that exist within a culture. The American performance scholar Diana Taylor distinguishes between two forms of storing and transmitting knowledge: the archive and the repertoire. The difference between these two forms is that the archive is supposedly resistant to time and change, whereas the repertoire is, by contrast, temporal and ephemeral. The archive includes, for example, texts, structures, and documents, while the repertoire includes spoken language, dance, sport, and rituals. According to Taylor, repertoire-based knowledge is embodied, and its transmission occurs through performance that transfer meaning from person to person or from occasion to occasion.
I believe that documenting theatre has the potential to serve as a productive mode of articulation for ethnographic findings, and also to contribute to the expansion of anthropological knowledge. One example that may demonstrate the advantage of performance over written text as an adequate form for ethnographic findings is acting practice, and in particular what I call “archaeological acting.”
Archaeological Play
In his discussion of ethnographic writing, Geertz refers to the documentation of spoken texts and notes that what is documented in these texts is not their literal aspect alone, but what is said through them, their meaning, and borrowing from the French philosopher Paul Ricoeur, he calls this the "said" of speech. In my understanding, Geertz is referring here to an element that can be best clarified through the key concept of drama: action. In the art of acting, it is customary to say that actors do not play the spoken text, but the action it expresses. This term has received many studies and interpretations, as well as many nicknames, but despite its complexity, I believe that theater men and women would agree that acting allows the written text to "come to life" and be embodied.
When an actor approaches a fictional text, he breathes life into it through acting, he expresses the action hidden in the text. Through textual analysis, the actor produces a sequence of actions that are expressed in their performance. Documentary theatre, insofar as it is based on interviews and on texts drawn from reality and documented within the framework of fieldwork, presents a unique case. The words spoken within it were, at some point, actually spoken in reality.
The action in which these words appear is not merely a potential action, but one that was in fact carried out in reality. Within the fieldwork process, something remains of that action—a text. The text is, admittedly, only a trace of the action, but the reenactment of the action based on it produces a reconstruction of an “object” that existed in empirical reality and not only in the playwright’s mental reality.
Actors working with documentary text, which is based on documentation, are in fact operating in a manner similar to an archaeologist who discovers dry bones and reconstructs from them a model of a living creature that once walked the earth. We should not view the actor’s work in this case as a technical reproduction of voice or original intonation; rather, the emphasis lies in the fact that access to the text—despite its sometimes “everyday” character and even though it was not composed by a playwright in terms of constructed word sequences—is treated as a dramatic text that expresses an action the actor must perform. Acting in these cases involves a dual and contradictory movement: on the one hand, there is a necessity to detach speech from its original context and reformulate it in terms of dramatic action. In this sense, tracing the original intonation from reality may actually obstruct the extraction of action. On the other hand, there is a need for full commitment to the belief that extracting that action from the text reveals the “said” of the documented reality—the deeper meaning beneath the original speaker’s words, even if they themselves were not aware of it. Documentary acting thus reconstitutes speech as dramatic action.
The play From "SHURA: The mission of identifying life", Photogrpahy: Efrat Mazor was developed with the assistance of Kvutzat Avoda's "Starting Point" project
Bibliography
Geertz, Clifford.
Levy, Jonathan.
Nagid, Chaim.
Shunamy, Gideon.
Conquergood, Dwight. "Performance Studies: Interventions and Radical Research."
Hartnoll, Phyllis, ed.
Kaufman, Moisés, and the Members of the Tectonic Theater Project.
Kennedy, Dennis, ed.
Piscator, Erwin.
Smith, Anna Deavere.
Taylor, Diana.
White, Hayden.
* This essay is taken from the essay "Being Between Things: On the Documentary Project in Theater" which was published as an epilogue to the play "SHURA: The Mission of Identifying Life" jointly published by Pardes Publishing and TM: Tmuna Plays. The purchase of the play includes the epilogue:
[1] See for example: Gideon Shunamy,
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