Consent - dare to ask!

In preparation for this post, I really got to read some really depressing stuff on the subject of sexual assault, bullying, and consent. It is quite surprising that I would be saying this, given that the subject of this post is a physical theatre show I went to see last Friday.

L.O.V.E. was described on the Gulbenkian Theatre's website as an "immoderate Shakespearean ménage à trois," so of course I was expecting a play dealing with the subject of sex and sensuality. I went there expecting strong imagery about sex. I went there expecting to be challenged on sexuality. Importantly, the show was also described as a "theatrical landmark – a highly-charged and athletic classic that helped define the term physical theatre." Aside from the hyperbole of the description, I was really expecting an edgy, interesting, daring show.

What I did not expect (or want) was to be sexually assaulted by the actors. Don't take me wrong, I am not morally against physical interaction between audience and performers, be it of a sexual nature or otherwise. I am no prude (if you doubt, read this). Touch can be a powerful performance technique used to enhance audience empathy, connection with the creative content of the play, subversion of mainstream opinions of what is correct or not. But one very important aspect to consider when using such techniques on the theatrical conversation is the audience's consent, especially regarding sexual interaction. As theatre makers, we must respect our audience members' agency as individuals. Let me clarify what I am talking about here, so we can come down from the abstract and talk about what happened in the theatre last Friday. 

From the beginning of the show, it was clear that physicality would take precedence over text, as one can expect from a show advertised as physical theatre. I don't quite recall the order of the scenes I saw, but they included the three performers moving about the stage, in what seemed to be a deranged or worried mood, each on their own world. The performers also sort of played a musical chairs dance until they were tired. There was also a moment when the Beatles song "Something" was played (on the voice of Shirley Bassey, if I am not mistaken) and the actors would sing along on the "I don't know, I don't know" part. Then there came fragments of sonnets, with differing levels of delivery quality by each actor (though I'll refrain from a critique of the quality of the show here, as it is not relevant to my point). That the performance was focusing on metaphorical representations of orgasm, sexual intercourse, and violent sexual attraction was quite appropriate for the show. Hard breathing, hanging tongues, sexy stares - all of this was there.

Then, the actors started moving towards the audience. Then the actors started climbing over audience members. Then the actors started French kissing audience members, then sexually touching these audience members' faces, or inserting their fingers in the audience members' mouths. One person sitting right in front of me had his head humped for several seconds by one actor, who subsequently started moving towards my general direction. My friend, who had been apprehensive since the whole thing started (constantly saying to me that she did not want the actor to interact with her), got really upset when the actor tried to climb over her. I had to use my body to shield her from his touch. I had to tell him "no, not here" before he apologized and turned away to harass someone else.

Once we were free of his presence, I turned to look at the other actors, who were interacting with other sections of the audience. I saw one man who was having his bald head humped by another actor, then kissed, licked, and tapped onto, as if it was a drum. When the actor felt he was done with that person, he climbed over him and, by mistake, kicked the bald guy on the head, for which the actor apologized with a quick smile, and then went on to harass another person.

These are only some examples. Several people were kissed, groped, touched, climbed over, humped, or otherwise sexually interacted with during that scene. I don't know if any of those people where actual actors planted in the audience. I know that many weren't. After that, I was feeling really shitty, invaded, disrespected - and I was not even one of the actors' victims! I know some of the audience members were fine with the interaction, some of them even went along playfully, but that is beside the point, because what I am protesting about here is the breach of consent. Nobody was asked in advance if they wanted to be touched. There were no notes in the program, or live announcements by the ushers, alerting us about the sexual nature of the interaction that would take place. Or, for that matter, of any audience interaction at all. The actors simply went on and basically violated people in the public.

A few moments after this scene, a group right in front of me got up and left. I asked my friends if they wanted to stay and they were ambivalent. I hesitated, but then I decided to leave. I felt like I could not be an accomplice on that absurdity anymore. Whatever good the play might have had was spoiled for me. I really wanted to see the end of the show to be able to make an informed comment on the artistic quality of it, but honestly, I felt like I needed to defend my dignity first.

Once outside, I learned about an added layer of seriousness to the problem. The group in front of me, who got up and left, was a high school drama class, whose teacher had organized a field trip to the theatre as part of their program. One of the students had been targeted by an actor and, although the student was not too offended (and didn't make a big deal of the disgusting experience of having a stranger shake his crotch on his face), the teacher was rightfully quite worried and upset. She had contacted the theatre in advance of the trip and asked if the show was appropriate for a highschool group, to which she received a positive answer. She actively went through all of the steps to ensure the safety of her class, only to be misled by the theatre administration, and betrayed by the artists. She could be held legally responsible for this.

I complained in person to the front-of-the-house manager, and wrote a formal complaint form to the manager of the theatre. I received a written apology by email from the manager, explaining that they were unaware of this sexual interaction with the audience. The manager also said they had booked the play because of the reputation of the company, who is in receipt of grants by the arts council and the Welsh government, and that although she expected the show to be "edgy," she agreed that they went too far.

Another one of my friends was really pessimistic about the effectiveness of our reaction to the play. She was concerned that by getting up and leaving, we would be going along with the screwed up logic of the artists who planned this whole thing. She said that this artist probably meant to shock and offend. This artist was probably happy that people got up and left, giving themselves little congratulatory pats on their backs about how daring and different, how challenging and subversive they were being.

I understand this pessimism, but I don't agree that it is warranted. I could care less if an artist is so deep in their egocentric delusion not to perceive the violence they inflicted on their audience. It's one thing to build a whole show based on taboos to challenge them and make the audience think of alternatives. But it's another thing entirely to unthinkingly mistake what you are arguing against for your message*. Rape and sexual violence are too much of a status quo, rape culture is all too real, for that to be interestingly edgy. Actions like this are what we should be speaking up against, not condoning or committing ourselves.

That the artists did not think about the rape and sexual assault survivors in the audience (because, let's be frank, it is very nearly a statistical certainty that they were there, given the ubiquity of sexual violence in our society), and put these audience members in a situation where they could be triggered, is irresponsible and unfortunate. That these same artists might mischaracterize our reaction as an attempt to censor or silence them… well, that is just a case of navel-gazing and stupidity.

*A play is much more than just "a message," though.