ROAD JIM CARTWRIGHT
Jim Cartwright’s plays are consistently performed around the world and have won numerous awards. They have been translated into over 30 languages.
His first play, Road, opened at the Royal Court in 1986, and was subsequently revived that same year and again in 1987, before being taken on a nationwide tour. Road won the Samuel Beckett Award, Drama Magazine’s Best New Play Award, and was joint winner of The Plays And Players Award and The George Devine Award. In 1988, Road was produced by The Lincoln Centre, New York. Road is now considered a modern classic.
in the play i had played the character of brendon (brenda) which is the single parent of carol. my character is very cautious of the daughter. my character tries to be the more controling in the family but fails. my character and my partners character are always on different moods.They both can be nice and sweet to each other and then next they are both arguing.
Monday, 13 May 2013
PRIVATE LIVES
PRIVATE LIVES NOEL COWARD
Coward was born in 1899 in Teddington, Middlesex, a suburb of London. His parents were Arthur Sabin Coward (1856–1937), a piano salesman, and Violet Agnes Coward (1863–1954), daughter of Henry Gordon Veitch, a captain and surveyor in the Royal Navy. Noël Coward was the second of their three sons, the eldest of whom had died in 1898 at the age of six. Coward's father lacked ambition and industry, and family finances were often poor. Coward was bitten by the performing bug early and appeared in amateur concerts by the age of seven. He attended the Chapel Royal Choir School as a young child.
My Character is Eliot. he is a very charming fellow and keeps his head up high. His character is a very well mannered man and also a gentleman.
private lives script act 3
SIBYL: What are we to do?
VICTOR [with determination]: Wake them ourselves.
[He goes towards AMANDA'S door.]
SIBYL: No, no, wait a minute.
VICTOR: What's the matter?
SIBYL [plaintively]: I couldn't face them yet, really, I couldn't; I feel
dreadful.
VICTOR: So do I. [He wanders gloomily over to the window] It's a lovely
morning.
SIBYL: Lovely.
[She bursts into tears.]
VICTOR [coming to her]: I say, don't cry.
SIBYL: I can't help it.
VICTOR: Please don't, please-
SIBYL: It's all so squalid; I wish we hadn't stayed; what's the use?
VICTOR: We've got to see them before we go back to England, we
must get things straightened out.
SIBYL [sinking down on to the sofa]: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, I wish I
were dead.
VICTOR: Hush, now, hush. Remember your promise. We've got to
see this through together and get it settled one way or another.
SIBYL [sniffling]: I'll try to control myself, only I'm so ... so tired, I
haven't slept properly for ages.
VICTOR: Neither have I.
SIBYL: If we hadn't arrived when we did, they'd have killed one
another.
VICTOR: They must have been drunk.
SIBYL: She hit him.
VICTOR: He'd probably hit her, too, earlier on.
SIBYL: I'd no idea anyone ever behaved like that; it's so
disgusting, so degrading, Elli of all people -- oh dear
[She almost breaks down again, but controls herself.]
VICTOR: What an escape you've had.
SIBYL: What an escape we've both had.
[AMANDA opens her door and looks out. She is wearing travelling
clothes, and is carrying a small suitcase. She
jumps, upon seeing SIBYL and VICTOR.]
AMANDA: Oh!--good morning.
VICTOR [with infinite reproach in his voice]: Oh, Amanda.
AMANDA: Will you please move this sofa, I can't get out.
[VICTOR moves the sofa, and she advances into the room and
goes towards the door.]
VICTOR: Where are you going?
AMANDA: Away.
VICTOR: You can't.
AMANDA: Why not?
VICTOR: I want to talk to you.
AMANDA [wearily]: What on earth is the use of that?
VICTOR: I must talk to you.
AMANDA: Well, all I can say is, it's very inconsiderate.
[She plumps the bag down by the door and comes down to
VICTOR.]
VICTOR: Mandy, I...
AMANDA [gracefully determined to rise above the situation]: I
suppose you're Sibyl; how do you do? [SIBYL turns her back
on her] Well, if you're going to take up that attitude, I fail to
see the point of your coming here at all.
SIBYL: I came to see Elyot.
AMANDA: I've no wish to prevent you; he's in there, probably
wallowing in an alcoholic stupor.
VICTOR: This is all very unpleasant, Amanda.
AMANDA: I quite agree, that's why I want to go away.
VICTOR: That would be shirking; this must be discussed at length.
AMANDA: Very well, if you insist, but not just now, I don't
feel up to it. Has Louise come yet?
VICTOR: If Louise is the maid, she's in the kitchen.
AMANDA: Thank you. You'd probably like some coffee, excuse me a
moment.
[She goes off into the kitchen.]
SIBYL: Well! How dare she?
VICTOR [irritably]: How dare she what?
SIBYL: Behave so calmly, as though nothing had happened.
VICTOR: I don't see what else she could have done.
SIBYL: Insufferable I call it.
[ELYOT opens his door and looks out.]
ELYOT [seeing them]: Oh God.
[He shuts the door again quickly].
SIBYL: Elyot--Elyot-[She rushes over to the door and bangs
on it] Elyot--Elyot--Elyot
ELYOT [inside]: Go away.
SIBYL [falling on to the sofa]: Oh, oh, oh.
[She bursts into tears again.]
VICTOR: Do pull yourself together for heaven's sake.
SIBYL: I can't, I can't -- oh, oh, oh
[AMANDA re-enters.]
AMANDA: I've ordered some coffee and rolls, they'll be here
soon. I must apologize for the room being so untidy.
[She picks up a cushion, and pats it into place on the sofa.
There is a silence except for SIBYL'S sobs. AMANDA looks at
her, and then at VICTOR; then she goes off into her room again,
and shuts the door.]
VICTOR: It's no use crying like that, it doesn't do any good.
[After a moment, during which SIBYL makes renewed efforts to
control her tears, ELYOT opens the door immediately behind
her, pushes the sofa, with her on it, out of the way, and walks
towards the front door. He is in travelling clothes, and carrying
a small suitcase.]
SIBYL [rushing after him]: Elyot, where are you going?
ELYOT: Canada.
SIBYL: You can't go like this, you can't.
ELYOT: I see no point in staying.
VICTOR: You owe it to Sibyl to stay.
ELYOT: How do you do, I don't think we've met before.
SIBYL: You must stay, you've got to stay.
ELYOT: Very well, if you insist. [He plumps his bag down]
I'm afraid the room is in rather a mess. Have you seen the
maid Louise?
VICTOR: She's in the kitchen.
ELYOT: Good. I'll order some coffee.
[He makes a movement towards the kitchen.]
VICTOR [stopping him]: No, your--er--my--er--Amanda has
already ordered it.
ELYOT: Oh, I'm glad the old girl's up and about.
VICTOR: We've got to get things straightened out, you know.
ELYOT [looking around the room]: Yes, it's pretty awful. We'll get
the concierge up from downstairs.
VICTOR: You're being purposely flippant, but it's no good.
ELYOT: Sorry.
[He lapses into silence.]
VICTOR [after a pause]: What's to be done?
ELYOT: I don't know.
SIBYL [with spirit]: It's all perfectly horrible. I feel smirched
and unclean as though slimy things had been crawling all
over me.
ELYOT: Maybe they have; that's a very old sofa.
VICTOR: If you don't stop your damned flippancy, I'll knock
your head off.
ELYOT [raising his eyebrows]: Has it ever struck you that
flippancy might cover a very real embarrassment?
VICTOR: In a situation such as this, it's in extremely bad taste.
ELYOT: No worse than bluster and invective. As a matter of
fact, as far as I know, this situation is entirely without precedent.
We have no prescribed etiquette to fall back upon. I shall continue
to be flippant.
SIBYL: Oh Elyot, how can you -- how can you.
ELYOT: I'm awfully sorry, Sibyl.
VICTOR: It's easy enough to be sorry.
ELYOT: On the contrary. I find it exceedingly difficult. I seldom
regret anything. This is a very rare and notable exception,
a sort of red letter day. We must all make the most of it.
SIBYL: I'll never forgive you, never. I wouldn't have believed
anyone could be so callous and cruel.
ELYOT: I absolutely see your point, and as I said before, I'm sorry.
[There is silence for a moment. Then AMANDA comes in again.
She has obviously decided to carry everything off in a high
handed manner.]
AMANDA [in social tones]: What! Breakfast not ready yet?
Really, these French servants are too slow for words. [She
smiles gaily] What a glorious morning. [She goes to the window]
I do love Paris, it's so genuinely gay. Those lovely trees
in the Champs Elysees, and the little roundabouts for the
children to play on, and those shiny red taxis. You can see
Sacre Coeur quite clearly today; sometimes it's a bit misty,
particularly in August, all the heat rising up from the
pavements you know.
ELYOT [drily]: Yes, dear, we know.
AMANDA [ignoring him]: And it's heavenly being so high up.
I found this flat three years ago, quite by merest chance.
I happened to be staying at the Plaza Athenee, just down the
road
ELYOT [enthusiastically]: Such a nice hotel, with the most
enchanting courtyard with a fountain that goes
plopplopplopplopplopplopplopplopplop
VICTOR: This is ridiculous, Amanda.
ELYOT [continuing]: Plop plop plop plop plop plop plop plop
plop plop --
AMANDA [overriding him]: Now, Victor, I refuse to discuss
anything in the least important until after breakfast. I
couldn't concentrate now, I know I couldn't.
ELYOT [sarcastically]: What manner. What poise. How I envy
it. To be able to carry off the most embarrassing situation
with such tact, and delicacy, and above all--such subtlety.
Go on Amanda, you're making everything so much easier.
We shall all be playing Hunt the Slipper in a minute.
AMANDA: Please don't address me, I don't wish to speak to you.
ELYOT: Splendid.
AMANDA: And what's more, I never shall again as long as I live.
ELYOT: I shall endeavor to rise above it.
AMANDA: I've been brought up to believe that it's beyond
the pale for a man to strike a woman.
ELYOT: A very poor tradition. Certain women should be struck
regularly, like gongs.
AMANDA: You're an unmitigated cad, and a bully.
ELYOT: And you're an ill-mannered, bad-tempered slattern.
AMANDA [loudly]: Slattern indeed.
ELYOT: Yes, slattern, slattern, slattern, and fishwife.
VICTOR: Keep your mouth shut, you swine.
ELYOT: Mind your own damned business.
[They are about to fight, when SIBYL rushes between them.]
SIBYL: Stop, stop, it's no use going on like this. Stop, please.
[TO AMANDA] Help me, do, do, do, help me
AMANDA: I'm not going to interfere. Let them fight if they
want to; it will probably clear the air anyhow.
SIBYL: Yes but-
AMANDA: Come into my room; perhaps you'd like to wash or something.
SIBYL: No, but-
AMANDA [firmly]: Come along.
SIBYL: Very well.
[She tosses her head at ELYOT, and AMANDA drags her off.]
VICTOR [belligerently]: Now then!
Coward was born in 1899 in Teddington, Middlesex, a suburb of London. His parents were Arthur Sabin Coward (1856–1937), a piano salesman, and Violet Agnes Coward (1863–1954), daughter of Henry Gordon Veitch, a captain and surveyor in the Royal Navy. Noël Coward was the second of their three sons, the eldest of whom had died in 1898 at the age of six. Coward's father lacked ambition and industry, and family finances were often poor. Coward was bitten by the performing bug early and appeared in amateur concerts by the age of seven. He attended the Chapel Royal Choir School as a young child.
My Character is Eliot. he is a very charming fellow and keeps his head up high. His character is a very well mannered man and also a gentleman.
private lives script act 3
SIBYL: What are we to do?
VICTOR [with determination]: Wake them ourselves.
[He goes towards AMANDA'S door.]
SIBYL: No, no, wait a minute.
VICTOR: What's the matter?
SIBYL [plaintively]: I couldn't face them yet, really, I couldn't; I feel
dreadful.
VICTOR: So do I. [He wanders gloomily over to the window] It's a lovely
morning.
SIBYL: Lovely.
[She bursts into tears.]
VICTOR [coming to her]: I say, don't cry.
SIBYL: I can't help it.
VICTOR: Please don't, please-
SIBYL: It's all so squalid; I wish we hadn't stayed; what's the use?
VICTOR: We've got to see them before we go back to England, we
must get things straightened out.
SIBYL [sinking down on to the sofa]: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, I wish I
were dead.
VICTOR: Hush, now, hush. Remember your promise. We've got to
see this through together and get it settled one way or another.
SIBYL [sniffling]: I'll try to control myself, only I'm so ... so tired, I
haven't slept properly for ages.
VICTOR: Neither have I.
SIBYL: If we hadn't arrived when we did, they'd have killed one
another.
VICTOR: They must have been drunk.
SIBYL: She hit him.
VICTOR: He'd probably hit her, too, earlier on.
SIBYL: I'd no idea anyone ever behaved like that; it's so
disgusting, so degrading, Elli of all people -- oh dear
[She almost breaks down again, but controls herself.]
VICTOR: What an escape you've had.
SIBYL: What an escape we've both had.
[AMANDA opens her door and looks out. She is wearing travelling
clothes, and is carrying a small suitcase. She
jumps, upon seeing SIBYL and VICTOR.]
AMANDA: Oh!--good morning.
VICTOR [with infinite reproach in his voice]: Oh, Amanda.
AMANDA: Will you please move this sofa, I can't get out.
[VICTOR moves the sofa, and she advances into the room and
goes towards the door.]
VICTOR: Where are you going?
AMANDA: Away.
VICTOR: You can't.
AMANDA: Why not?
VICTOR: I want to talk to you.
AMANDA [wearily]: What on earth is the use of that?
VICTOR: I must talk to you.
AMANDA: Well, all I can say is, it's very inconsiderate.
[She plumps the bag down by the door and comes down to
VICTOR.]
VICTOR: Mandy, I...
AMANDA [gracefully determined to rise above the situation]: I
suppose you're Sibyl; how do you do? [SIBYL turns her back
on her] Well, if you're going to take up that attitude, I fail to
see the point of your coming here at all.
SIBYL: I came to see Elyot.
AMANDA: I've no wish to prevent you; he's in there, probably
wallowing in an alcoholic stupor.
VICTOR: This is all very unpleasant, Amanda.
AMANDA: I quite agree, that's why I want to go away.
VICTOR: That would be shirking; this must be discussed at length.
AMANDA: Very well, if you insist, but not just now, I don't
feel up to it. Has Louise come yet?
VICTOR: If Louise is the maid, she's in the kitchen.
AMANDA: Thank you. You'd probably like some coffee, excuse me a
moment.
[She goes off into the kitchen.]
SIBYL: Well! How dare she?
VICTOR [irritably]: How dare she what?
SIBYL: Behave so calmly, as though nothing had happened.
VICTOR: I don't see what else she could have done.
SIBYL: Insufferable I call it.
[ELYOT opens his door and looks out.]
ELYOT [seeing them]: Oh God.
[He shuts the door again quickly].
SIBYL: Elyot--Elyot-[She rushes over to the door and bangs
on it] Elyot--Elyot--Elyot
ELYOT [inside]: Go away.
SIBYL [falling on to the sofa]: Oh, oh, oh.
[She bursts into tears again.]
VICTOR: Do pull yourself together for heaven's sake.
SIBYL: I can't, I can't -- oh, oh, oh
[AMANDA re-enters.]
AMANDA: I've ordered some coffee and rolls, they'll be here
soon. I must apologize for the room being so untidy.
[She picks up a cushion, and pats it into place on the sofa.
There is a silence except for SIBYL'S sobs. AMANDA looks at
her, and then at VICTOR; then she goes off into her room again,
and shuts the door.]
VICTOR: It's no use crying like that, it doesn't do any good.
[After a moment, during which SIBYL makes renewed efforts to
control her tears, ELYOT opens the door immediately behind
her, pushes the sofa, with her on it, out of the way, and walks
towards the front door. He is in travelling clothes, and carrying
a small suitcase.]
SIBYL [rushing after him]: Elyot, where are you going?
ELYOT: Canada.
SIBYL: You can't go like this, you can't.
ELYOT: I see no point in staying.
VICTOR: You owe it to Sibyl to stay.
ELYOT: How do you do, I don't think we've met before.
SIBYL: You must stay, you've got to stay.
ELYOT: Very well, if you insist. [He plumps his bag down]
I'm afraid the room is in rather a mess. Have you seen the
maid Louise?
VICTOR: She's in the kitchen.
ELYOT: Good. I'll order some coffee.
[He makes a movement towards the kitchen.]
VICTOR [stopping him]: No, your--er--my--er--Amanda has
already ordered it.
ELYOT: Oh, I'm glad the old girl's up and about.
VICTOR: We've got to get things straightened out, you know.
ELYOT [looking around the room]: Yes, it's pretty awful. We'll get
the concierge up from downstairs.
VICTOR: You're being purposely flippant, but it's no good.
ELYOT: Sorry.
[He lapses into silence.]
VICTOR [after a pause]: What's to be done?
ELYOT: I don't know.
SIBYL [with spirit]: It's all perfectly horrible. I feel smirched
and unclean as though slimy things had been crawling all
over me.
ELYOT: Maybe they have; that's a very old sofa.
VICTOR: If you don't stop your damned flippancy, I'll knock
your head off.
ELYOT [raising his eyebrows]: Has it ever struck you that
flippancy might cover a very real embarrassment?
VICTOR: In a situation such as this, it's in extremely bad taste.
ELYOT: No worse than bluster and invective. As a matter of
fact, as far as I know, this situation is entirely without precedent.
We have no prescribed etiquette to fall back upon. I shall continue
to be flippant.
SIBYL: Oh Elyot, how can you -- how can you.
ELYOT: I'm awfully sorry, Sibyl.
VICTOR: It's easy enough to be sorry.
ELYOT: On the contrary. I find it exceedingly difficult. I seldom
regret anything. This is a very rare and notable exception,
a sort of red letter day. We must all make the most of it.
SIBYL: I'll never forgive you, never. I wouldn't have believed
anyone could be so callous and cruel.
ELYOT: I absolutely see your point, and as I said before, I'm sorry.
[There is silence for a moment. Then AMANDA comes in again.
She has obviously decided to carry everything off in a high
handed manner.]
AMANDA [in social tones]: What! Breakfast not ready yet?
Really, these French servants are too slow for words. [She
smiles gaily] What a glorious morning. [She goes to the window]
I do love Paris, it's so genuinely gay. Those lovely trees
in the Champs Elysees, and the little roundabouts for the
children to play on, and those shiny red taxis. You can see
Sacre Coeur quite clearly today; sometimes it's a bit misty,
particularly in August, all the heat rising up from the
pavements you know.
ELYOT [drily]: Yes, dear, we know.
AMANDA [ignoring him]: And it's heavenly being so high up.
I found this flat three years ago, quite by merest chance.
I happened to be staying at the Plaza Athenee, just down the
road
ELYOT [enthusiastically]: Such a nice hotel, with the most
enchanting courtyard with a fountain that goes
plopplopplopplopplopplopplopplopplop
VICTOR: This is ridiculous, Amanda.
ELYOT [continuing]: Plop plop plop plop plop plop plop plop
plop plop --
AMANDA [overriding him]: Now, Victor, I refuse to discuss
anything in the least important until after breakfast. I
couldn't concentrate now, I know I couldn't.
ELYOT [sarcastically]: What manner. What poise. How I envy
it. To be able to carry off the most embarrassing situation
with such tact, and delicacy, and above all--such subtlety.
Go on Amanda, you're making everything so much easier.
We shall all be playing Hunt the Slipper in a minute.
AMANDA: Please don't address me, I don't wish to speak to you.
ELYOT: Splendid.
AMANDA: And what's more, I never shall again as long as I live.
ELYOT: I shall endeavor to rise above it.
AMANDA: I've been brought up to believe that it's beyond
the pale for a man to strike a woman.
ELYOT: A very poor tradition. Certain women should be struck
regularly, like gongs.
AMANDA: You're an unmitigated cad, and a bully.
ELYOT: And you're an ill-mannered, bad-tempered slattern.
AMANDA [loudly]: Slattern indeed.
ELYOT: Yes, slattern, slattern, slattern, and fishwife.
VICTOR: Keep your mouth shut, you swine.
ELYOT: Mind your own damned business.
[They are about to fight, when SIBYL rushes between them.]
SIBYL: Stop, stop, it's no use going on like this. Stop, please.
[TO AMANDA] Help me, do, do, do, help me
AMANDA: I'm not going to interfere. Let them fight if they
want to; it will probably clear the air anyhow.
SIBYL: Yes but-
AMANDA: Come into my room; perhaps you'd like to wash or something.
SIBYL: No, but-
AMANDA [firmly]: Come along.
SIBYL: Very well.
[She tosses her head at ELYOT, and AMANDA drags her off.]
VICTOR [belligerently]: Now then!
brecht
Epic Theatre proposed that a play should not cause the spectator to identify emotionally with the characters or action before him or her, but should instead provoke rational self-reflection and a critical view of the action on the stage. Brecht thought that the experience of a climactic catharsis of emotion left an audience complacent. Instead, he wanted his audiences to adopt a critical perspective in order to recognise social injustice and exploitation and to be moved to go forth from the theatre and effect change in the world outside. For this purpose, Brecht employed the use of techniques that remind the spectator that the play is a representation of reality and not reality itself. By highlighting the constructed nature of the theatrical event, Brecht hoped to communicate that the audience's reality was equally constructed and, as such, was changeable.
Tuesday, 20 November 2012
activity log
In our lesson we had rehearsed our lines from the book Road. i had looked at rehearsing these lines in different techniques such as different tones and tensions throughout the whole piece. Also during the lesson we looked at delivering the initial piece through a stanlislavski technique, showing the piece how its naturally intended. we had made all the preperations from all the rehearsals to perform and get our perfomance graded. in this we were graded on our level of technique,tone and tension.
After the graded performance we had participated in several activities such as miming and exaggeration. we had done this by showing different types of technique such as voice, tone, aggression and tension.
After the graded performance we had participated in several activities such as miming and exaggeration. we had done this by showing different types of technique such as voice, tone, aggression and tension.
Monday, 15 October 2012
Monday 15 october
today we had studied the art of Jim cartwright's Road. we had looked at many different techniques of performing these specific scenes. we had looked at antonin artaud, brecht,berkoff and stanislavski. With the style of stanslavski he intends the play as it was naturally intended.
When we performed with the style of brecht we had used many different techniques. With brecht we tried to make the audience uncomfortable as possible. By doing this we tried aiming all of the context towards the audience as if we were speaking/shouting at them directly. With this technique the audience will feel uncomfortable and think that they are also included within the dialect of the play and story line.
When we performed with the style of brecht we had used many different techniques. With brecht we tried to make the audience uncomfortable as possible. By doing this we tried aiming all of the context towards the audience as if we were speaking/shouting at them directly. With this technique the audience will feel uncomfortable and think that they are also included within the dialect of the play and story line.
Stanislavski
Stanislavski
“Magic If”
Stanislavski believed that the truth that occurred onstage was different than that of real life, but that a 'scenic truth' could be achieved onstage. A performance should be believable for an audience so that they may appear to the audience as truth. One of Stanislavski's methods for achieving the truthful pursuit of a character's emotion was his 'magic if.' Actors were required to ask many questions of their characters and themselves.Through the 'magic if,' actors were able to satisfy themselves and their characters' positions of the plot. One of the first questions they had to ask was, "What if I were in the same situation as my character?" Another variation on this is "What would I do if I found myself in this (the character's) condition.
The "magic if" allowed actors to transcend the confinements of realism by asking them what would occur "if" circumstances were different, or "if" the environments were to happen to them. By answering these questions as the character, the theatrical actions of the actors would be believable and therefore 'truthful.
Antonin artaud
Antonin artaud
Artaud believed that theatre should affect the audience as much as possible, therefore he used a mixture of strange and disturbing forms of lighting, sound, and other performance elements.
The Theatre of Cruelty has been created in order to restore to the theatre a passionate and convulsive conception of life, and it is in this sense of violent rigour and extreme condensation of scenic elements that the cruelty on which it is based must be understood. This cruelty, which will be bloody when necessary but not systematically so, can thus be identified with a kind of severe moral purity which is not afraid to pay life the price it must be paid
Artaud wanted to put the audience in the middle of the 'spectacle' (his term for the play), so they would be 'engulfed and physically affected by it'. He referred to this layout as being like a 'vortex' - a constantly shifting shape - 'to be trapped.
He also theorized that without cruelty within the theatre then the element/atmosphere would be powerless and useless. He then reported that all plots should have some sense of cruelty in the storyline. Artaud wanted to erase all aspects of false reality with the element of cruelty.
Artaud thought that society and the world of theatre had become an “empty shell”. In the Theatre of Cruelty, he was trying to revolutionize theatre - figuratively burn it to the ground so that it could start again. He was trying to connect people with something more primal, honest and true within themselves that had been lost for most people.
Artaud believed that theatre should affect the audience as much as possible, therefore he used a mixture of strange and disturbing forms of lighting, sound, and other performance elements.
The Theatre of Cruelty has been created in order to restore to the theatre a passionate and convulsive conception of life, and it is in this sense of violent rigour and extreme condensation of scenic elements that the cruelty on which it is based must be understood. This cruelty, which will be bloody when necessary but not systematically so, can thus be identified with a kind of severe moral purity which is not afraid to pay life the price it must be paid
Artaud wanted to put the audience in the middle of the 'spectacle' (his term for the play), so they would be 'engulfed and physically affected by it'. He referred to this layout as being like a 'vortex' - a constantly shifting shape - 'to be trapped.
He also theorized that without cruelty within the theatre then the element/atmosphere would be powerless and useless. He then reported that all plots should have some sense of cruelty in the storyline. Artaud wanted to erase all aspects of false reality with the element of cruelty.
Artaud thought that society and the world of theatre had become an “empty shell”. In the Theatre of Cruelty, he was trying to revolutionize theatre - figuratively burn it to the ground so that it could start again. He was trying to connect people with something more primal, honest and true within themselves that had been lost for most people.
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