This article – a chapter from The Paper Canoe: a Treatise on Theatre Anthropology, forthcoming from Routledge – was dedicated to NTQ's co-editor, Clive Barker, on his recent sixtieth birthday. In some senses, therefore, a reflection on the rite of passage into old age, it is more importantly a recognition of the quality and nature of experience understood – as applied to life and, in this case, to the profession of theatre. Eugenio Barba is the founder both of Odin Teatret and of ISTA, the International School of Theatre Anthropology, and here he links the impulses behind the two in highly personal experiences with universal implications – childhood epiphanies of feeling with the perception of theatrical genius, even the fending-off of boredom triggering an understanding of an actor's body movement shared across cultures and continents. Theatre, he concludes, ‘allows me to belong to no place, not to be anchored only to one perspective, to remain in transition’.

In 1993–94 Eric Bentley prepared an entertainment entitled Tingle Tangle: a Wedekind Cabaret, with music by William Bolcom, Peter Winkler, and Arnold Black. This contained many Wedekind lyrics in [approximations] by Bentley, and also the four original lyrics by Bentley which are printed below, as a tribute to Jan Kott – and a [thank you] for the essay on Wedekind which Kott contributed to The Play and Its Critic, the Festschrift assembled for Bentley's seventieth birthday in 1976. One of the lyrics below, [Lulu], was included in The First Lulu in 1993: the others are published here for the first time. All four lyrics are copyright 1993, 1994, by Eric Bentley.

Over the past few years we have encouraged the simmering in these pages of a continuing debate about the relationship between the bibliographical and scholarly problems of editing Elizabethan texts, changing perceptions of ‘authority’, and the theatrical and political conceptions, old and new, which may affect all these. Brian Parker, in NTQ24 (1990), and Stanley Wells, in NTQ26 (1991), were early contributors, and in NTQ34 (1992) Graham Holderness and Bryan Loughrey took up the argument, specifically questioning the editorial principles of the recent Oxford Shakespeare. Here, Alan Posener takes up the debate, criticizing the methodology and terminology adopted by Holderness and Loughrey, and some of the conclusions to which these led. Alan Posener is a British expatriate living in Berlin who – after stints in radical left-wing politics and teaching – became a writer, specializing in popular biography. He is currently rewriting one of the standard German biographies of William Shakespeare.

This paper examines two plays by Trevor Griffiths, ten years apart in the writing, which responded in different ways to burning contemporary issues. The first, Oi for England, though originally seen on television in 1982, was conceived as a theatre text, and was eventually toured to audiences closer to the age (and perhaps to some of the beliefs) of its racist rock-band central characters. The Gulf between Us, written in the aftermath of the Gulf War, was staged in Leeds in 1992 as a local theatrical ‘event’ at the West Yorkshire Playhouse, under Griffiths's own direction. Jonathan Bignell looks at the ways in which the different nature of these occasions and audiences, and the different ways in which the plays can be viewed as ‘political theatre’ – in particular, the new demands made by The Gulf upon critics who arrived with a type-cast view of its author – in both cases militated against a successful political statement being conveyed. Jonathan Bignell completed a PhD on narrative in film and television fictions in 1989, and since then has lectured in English and Media Studies in the English Department of the University of Reading. His research interests are in literary theory, and film and television analysis.

I KNOW THE TITLE: Something Rich and Strange. But I do not know if I will ever make the performance about the return of the ancient gods.

In NTQ38 (May 1994) Nicolas Whybrow offered a brief account of the immediate threat facing theatre in education (TIE) in England and Wales. In the first of two articles in which he examines the general state of theatre produced for both the formal and the informal education sectors, he goes on to provide a more searching contextualization of some of the changes now taking place. Here, he analyzes the implications for TIE of the Education Reform Act of 1988, and the effect of Youth Service policies on theatre for youth work. Nicolas Whybrow recently completed a PhD based on the practices of Red Ladder, Blah Blah Blah, and Leeds TIE, and is about to take up a lecturing appointment at the Workshop Theatre (School of English), Leeds University.

In earlier issues, New Theatre Quarterly has followed through several lines of enquiry into the processes of acting and the construction of critical methods appropriate to the analysis of contemporary performance. Articles on the work of Tilda Swinton (NTQ23) and Harriet Walters (NTQ34) for example, focused on the consciousness and techniques of those actresses. But the work of Odin Teatret, complemented (as in this issue) by the theoretical writings of its director, Eugenio Barba, has been a recurrent concern – most recently in the exploration in NTQ26 by Roberta Carreri of the technical means through which her role in Judith was articulated. Here, Janne Risum pulls together several related lines of enquiry by considering the performance of Julia Varley in the Castle of Holstebro, her vocal demonstration workshop The Echo of Silence, and her written piece, A Candle Lit amongst the Pages of Books, as related aspects of perception through which the female spectator engages with the actress and her fictive personae. Janne Risum teaches in the Institut for Dramaturgi at Aarhus University, Denmark, and is also active in the International School for Theatre Anthropology. She has published books and essays on acting, theatre history, and women in the theatre. A version of the present paper has also appeared, in Danish, in Nordic Theatre Studies, VI, No. 3 (1993).

In large part due to the relative lack of productions in Europe, the plays of Wole Soyinka have mostly been approached from a literary point of view rather than analyzed as theatrical events. Because the plays rely heavily on non-verbal conventions, this neglect of visual and acoustic patterns promotes an incomplete understanding of Soyinka's idea of theatre. Here, for the first time, a play by Soyinka is analyzed from the point of view of performance – specifically, the production of Death and the King's Horseman staged at the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester, in 1990. Martin Rohmer examines the transformation of playscript into mise-en-scène, focusing in particular on the use of music and dance, but looking also at the production as an intercultural event – asking not only how far a European company has to rely on African performing skills, but how far a European cast and audience is capable of a proper understanding of the play. This article is a revised version of a lecture delivered at the Conference of the Association for the Study of the New Literatures in English, held in Bayreuth in June 1992. Martin Rohmer studied Drama, German Literature, Anthropology, and Philosophy in Munich, and Theatre, Film and TV Studies at the University of Glasgow, before completing his MA in Munich in 1992. Presently he is a Research Assistant at the University of Bayreuth, where he is working on a PhD on the performing arts in Zimbabwe.

FROM THE TIME of Sophocles' Antigone, his version of the myth – which relates how Oedipus' daughter buried her brother Polyneices against the decree of Creon and, upon being sentenced to death, died by her own hand – became invariable. It was in modern treatments of the story that changes began to be introduced: these concerned the person or authorities representing the law; the time when the events occur, and their location; the person whom Antigone buries; and why she dies. But a continuing, necessary determinant in such modern incarnations of the myth has been the conflict between the ethos of authority and the ethos of moral belief – this latter being motivated by religion, duty to the family, or love. Without such an opposition, Antigone loses its ground as tragedy.

In addition to being a theatre director, Vladimir Mirzoev is a novelist, poet, critic, and artist. Born in Moscow in 1957, he studied with Mark Mestechkin, a disciple of his teachers Sergei Eisenstein and Vsevolod Meyerhold. Before he emigrated to Toronto, Canada, in May 1989, Mirzoev was known in Russian theatre as an iconoclast and a leading figure of the avant garde. His productions of Voltaire, Pushkin, Gogol, Büchner, Strindberg, Claudel, Weiss, and Howard Barker became renowned for the plasticity of the actors' movement and the use of metaphor to convey meaning, and Russian critics hailed his extraordinary ability to sculpt his own distinctive theatrical language, blending the ironic and the grotesque. In NTQ32 (August 1992) we published an interview with Mirzoev conducted by Rita Much: here, Julie Adam takes up the story, with an assessment of the director's work with ‘Horizontal Eight’ in Toronto – notably the productions, of Gogol's The Inspector General, Wilde's Salome, Camus's Caligula, and Barker's The Possibilities.

The received wisdom regarding the composition of the audience for Shakespeare's theatre has shifted in accordance with the social assumptions of the times – from Alfred Harbage's assertion of a popular, homogeneous audience, evolved for the egalitarian 'forties, to Ann Jennalie Cook's argument for a ‘privileged’ audience, put forward in the elitist 'eighties. While Andrew Gurr's Playgoing in Shakespeare's London corrects the worst excesses of both views, it remains dependent upon a great deal of inference from inadequate documentation, often directed to other purposes, and sometimes upon necessary guesswork, however rooted in common-sense. Caroline Gardiner teaches and researches in the Department of Arts Policy and Management at City University, whence have emerged the most detailed attempts to ‘profile’ the theatregoing populace of contemporary London: and here she suggests that some of the approaches and even the findings of modern audience researchers may shed new light on the controversy. Sometimes the results are surprising – and include the possibility that, relative to the pool of population available, theatre is now actually a more popular activity than in Shakespeare's London. However, she concludes that, overall, the percentage attending the theatre has remained remarkably constant, and constantly low.

Video technology has been widely available for the last twenty years, and offers possibilities for the documentation of theatrical performance that no previous generation has possessed. What are we doing with these possibilities? Why is it that we are only now taking some timid first steps towards the establishment of national or regional video archives? This article reports some findings from ten years of experimentation with recording formats and analysis, and urges the need for action by theatre practitioners, funding authorities, and university researchers to ensure that the theatrical output of another generation is not lost. The author, Gay McAuley, teaches in French and Performance Studies and is Director of the Interdisciplinary Centre for Performance Studies at the University of Sydney. Her research in recent years has focused on the semiotics of performance and, in particular, the ways actors use text in the construction of performance. She is currently writing a book called Space in Performance.

I could not have written this essay without the help of friends and counsellors in Calcutta, Bhubaneswar, and Puri. They listened carefully to my questions and took time to help me appreciate what I was encountering for the first time on stage and in life around me. This indebtedness makes this essay a fitting contribution to an issue in honour of Jan Kott, for he has offered encouragement of the same kind on many occasions. First I had read his Shakespeare Our Contemporary, and then I was able to enjoy his company, at Brighton, Vancouver, and for over two years at Stony Brook, Long Island. He helped me to think adventurously and showed me how to be watchful. I owe him a great debt and this essay is offered in token of my gratitude, pleasure, and admiration.

This essay is offered as a tribute to Jan Kott in appreciation of all he has done to stimulate international enthusiasm for Shakespeare's plays.