Internalised and Externalised Participation

To date, there has been a lack of critical attention on the role of the playwright in participatory performance. Although there is extensive literature responding to a proliferation of participatory performance practices in a European and North American context from the twenty-first century onwards – (Alston, Reference Alston2016; Frieze, Reference Frieze2017; Harpin & Nicholson, Reference Harpin and Nicholson2017; Machon, Reference Machon2013; White, Reference White2013) – there lacks a focused exploration of how playwriting techniques can be adapted to invite interaction. This Element addresses this by exploring how the playwright can craft a textual framework to facilitate audience participation in performance. I explore how the playwright’s role in the development of a participatory work might be augmented or expanded to support the execution of text-based strategies that invite audience interaction. By exploring how text can be used as the primary aesthetic tool to facilitate participation, this research situates the playwright centrally in the creation of work that has, what Cathy Turner and Duska Radosavljevic have described as a ‘porous dramaturgy’, performance that ‘has interactivity and/or co-creativity in its structure and seeks to create a community between audience and maker’ (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 191). Although a key focus of this enquiry is the relationship between playwright and audience member, I propose that it is not possible to isolate one relation in a participatory performance, embedded as each person – playwright, performer, director, producer, and audience member – is within a relational network. Therefore, I explore how paying attention to the multiple relations at play can support the playwright as they develop creative strategies towards audience participation.

There are a number of ways in which participation in theatre can be understood, indeed, it could be argued that all performance is inherently participatory. Throughout this Element, I explore the myriad ways playwrights can invite participation from the subtle to the more overt. To support this discussion, however, I make the distinction between two modes of participation. The first, I term participation through interpretation. This follows Jacques Rancière’s argument that an encounter with any artwork or performance always involves an act of participation, through cerebral engagement and meaning-making, what he defines as ‘active interpretation’ (Rancière, Reference Shutt2009). He writes, ‘[the spectator] observes, selects, compares, interprets. She links what she sees to a host of other things that she has seen on other stages, in other kinds of place. She composes her own poem with the elements of the poem before her. She participates in the performance by refashioning it in her own way’ (Rancière, Reference Shutt2009, p. 13). Rancière’s ideas on ‘active interpretation’ respond to the ways in which he argues spectatorship in theatre has been erroneously problematised by practitioners and the emancipatory claims for participation that have been overstated. He satirises what he argues the ‘theatre reformers’ have described as the ‘paradox of the spectator’ whereby spectatorship is positioned as a ‘passive condition that we should transform into activity’ (Rancière, Reference Shutt2009, p. 17). He counters this presupposition, arguing that spectatorship is always an active, interpretative act as the spectator ‘composes a poem from the poem before her’ (Rancière, Reference Shutt2009, p. 13). For Rancière, the collective power or democratic potential of theatre does not stem from the fact that it is inherently communitarian, or in the emancipatory effects of any participatory devices. Instead, what equalises all spectators is the shared capacity to encounter the work on their own terms and produce their own interpretation of it (Rancière, Reference Shutt2009, p. 17).

I draw upon Rancière’s ideas on interpretation and meaning-making as a form of participation. I share his conviction that each person encountering an artwork has the capacity to respond uniquely and to produce their own distinct reading of it. I take the position, however, that the singular experience or encounter with an artwork is contingent on, and embedded within, a plurality of relations. For me, Rancière’s human being ‘in the forest of things’ cuts a solitary figure, as he emphasises that the humans are ‘separate from one another … plot[ting] their own path’ (Rancière, Reference Shutt2009, p. 17). For him, the focus is on the relation the spectator has with the ‘object’ of art, which becomes a mediating third point of reference between the creator and the spectator. This allows for the distance that is necessary, in his view, to become an active interpreter. Rather than conceiving of interpretation as an autonomous act, I argue that the capacity of the spectator to produce their own interpretation of a performance is always contingent on multiple relations. These two phenomena occur simultaneously – the singular response to work occurring in, and through, relations with others. The relations we might identify within the performance, informing the interpretation created, are multiple: spectator to performer, spectator to writer, spectator to objects, but also spectator to spectator.

Rancière’s ‘active interpretation’ is a mode of participation that takes place in a spectator’s encounter with any performance. Yet there are those models of performance that distinguish themselves from others and can be seen to invite participation in a way that is experienced as atypical. For this reason, I think it is helpful to characterise another, distinct mode of participation, which follows on from Gareth White’s definition of ‘the participation of an audience, or an audience member, in the action of a performance’ (White, Reference White2013, p. 4). I conceive of this as a mode of participation which sees audience members contribute materially to the performance through actions, gestures, or offering props or ideas into the space; an externalised form of participation. White argues what distinguishes modes of participatory performances is that they see the audience member transformed into artistic material: ‘there are procedures through which participation is invited, and there are processes through which the performances invited become meaningful in a way that is different to other performances. These processes make the audience member into material that is used to compose the performance: an artistic medium’ (White, Reference White2013, p. 9). He argues this transformation occurs as a consequence of procedures developed by the maker of a participatory performance. For White, the creators of participatory performance craft the gaps for the audience member to step into, but also plan and guide what happens in response to the contributions from the audience. Following on from White, we might consider that a participatory work, in addition to more typically expected elements of a performance such as text, voice, choreographed movement, and scenography, has within its media the perspective of, and contribution from, the audience. In this way, the makers of participatory performance are drawing attention to a fundamental feature of theatre – the presence of an audience – and exploring the ways in which this can be crafted as another artistic tool in their repertoire. Therefore, theatre-makers that consciously reimagine how they relate to the audience so that they become part of the aesthetic material of the piece are not, I would suggest, adding something, but rather are taking an essential quality of the theatre event and drawing attention to it. A participatory work is, then, heightening or emphasising this constitutive feature of a performance.

This aligns with how I propose thinking about relationality in a participatory work, and I would argue marks a point of distinction from ‘relational aesthetics’ as outlined by Nicolas Bourriaud, an often cited, though often contested, contribution to the field of participatory work (Bourriaud, Reference Bourriaud2002). Bourriaud was writing in response to what he identified, at the turn of the century, as ‘an upsurge of convivial, user-friendly artistic projects, festive, collective and participatory, exploring the varied potential in the relationship to the other’ (Bourriaud, Reference Bourriaud2002, p. 61). He termed this body of work ‘relational aesthetics’, described as ‘art taking as its theoretical horizon, the realm of human interactions, and its social context’ (Bourriaud, Reference Bourriaud2002, p. 14). Works that he cites as examples of relational aesthetics emerged from a visual arts context and very often took place in gallery spaces. These are artworks that seek to establish intersubjective encounters and mark a move away from forms in which the art is a portable object, instead developing an artistic model that is responsive to, and contingent upon, its environment and audiences. The relations that arise from the situation the artist creates become the artwork.

Although I share Bourriaud’s interest in how the experience of relationality in a crafted art event or performance can be understood as aesthetic, there are some clear points of difference in how I am employing the term. I suggest that we can think of participatory works as not so much building relations but drawing attention to the relational dynamics which are inherent to any performance event. Therefore, I do not consider participatory performance as a model that ‘creates’ relations but rather draws attention to those which already exist. This marks a point of divergence from Bourriaud’s relational aesthetics. He writes that, ‘[in relational works] the artist sets his sights more and more clearly on the relations that his work will create among his public and on the invention of models of sociability’ (emphasis mine) (Bourriaud, Reference Bourriaud2002, p. 28). This affirms that Bourriaud conceptualises the artist as a creator of relations rather than heightening awareness of what is already present. I would suggest this difference is reflective of the fact that the artists Bourriaud discusses are primarily operating in the visual arts where, as both Sruti Bala and Claire Bishop have argued, a move towards working with people, rather than objects, and artworks which invite collaboration and relating to one another is more of an exception than in theatre where people relating to one another is arguably an essential quality of the form (Bala, Reference Bala2018, p. 14; Bishop, Reference Bishop2012, p. 2). Therefore, the emphasis Bourriaud makes is creating relations, whereas I am interested in participatory modalities that heighten awareness of the multiple relations already at play in the performance context. I suggest that a significant aspect of crafting a participatory work is about facilitating the relations between the artists and audience, and that these relations may in turn become part of the aesthetic of the performance. Although for the purposes of this study, I make the distinction between the visual arts and theatre, it is important to note that influential experimental artworks created in the twentieth century such as Yoko Ono’s Cut Piece, Marina Abramovic’s Rhythm 0, and Allan Kaprow’s Happenings, have all informed the evolution of contemporary performance techniques which position the spectator as co-creator. Indeed, Shannon Jackson identifies a cross-pollination of vocabularies and contexts between theatre and the visual arts, suggesting that many participatory performances exist at this intersection (Jackson, Reference Jackson2011, p. 2).

Bourriaud’s ideas have been met with criticism, perhaps most notably from Bishop, who argues that he fails to analyse the quality of relations that arise in a model of relational aesthetics: ‘If relational art produces human relations, then the next logical question to ask is what types of relations are being produced, for whom, and why? (Bishop, Reference Bishop2004, p. 65)’. She contends that Bourriaud suggests that the relations cultivated will be inherently democratic, that he focuses on a communal situation in which participants experience a sense of togetherness based on shared interest or experience. For Bishop, what these models fail to do, however, is acknowledge difference or allow space for tensions or dissensus to play out. She argues that Bourriaud falsely equates the social with the democratic, and the model of relational aesthetics he describes is reliant on consensus rather than exploring the potential of disruption and negotiating the tensions arising from difference (Bishop, Reference Bishop2004). Although I conceive of participatory performance in different terms to relational aesthetics, I do believe it is important to be attuned to these criticisms, particularly with regard to discussing relational dynamics. Indeed, something I explore throughout this Element is how the playwright can work collaboratively with the creative team to develop a performance model that allows for a plurality of experiences to be explored and co-exist.

I propose that thinking about how the two modalities of participation I have identified may work in an interplay with one another allows for a more nuanced approach to crafting participatory strategies, inviting makers of participatory performance to consider how participation can be experienced on a spectrum rather than in binary terms of something that you are or are not doing. It is my proposition that so doing can mitigate some of the criticisms that have been levied at participatory works. Rancière’s emphasis on the singular act of interpretation that will take place for each audience member alerts theatre-makers to consider how a participatory model can account for a multiplicity of readings. There can be a danger of flattening the creative experience in a participatory performance, particularly if the audience are addressed as a homogenous group and assumptions have been made about how they will respond to invitations to interact. At a minimum, this can result in a diminished artistic experience, but in more extreme cases, may see audience members feeling pressured or coerced to respond in a certain way. Being attuned to different modes of participation can support the maker in developing a work in which audience members are given choice, while also being conducive to aesthetic experimentation.

I share Rancière’s conviction that all spectators are equal in an intellectual capacity to create their own interpretation of a work. I suggest, however, that it is important for the creator of a participatory work to acknowledge the very real structural inequalities that will impact each person’s ability to engage with a performance. Such inequities may only be heightened or perpetuated within the framework of the performance if the theatre-maker is not attuned to them. I argue, therefore, that a belief in the equal and shared capability to interpret a performance needs to be underpinned by a sensitive consideration of difference and a performance framework that is responsive enough to accommodate a variety of needs and experiences. These propositions are explored in more detail in Section 1. Many participatory practices can trace their lineage back to performance techniques that evolved in an applied theatre context. As such, I argue that contemporary discourse in the field can be usefully drawn upon to support my enquiry into the development of a text-driven participatory performance model. I refer to work by Kay Hepplewhite and Michael Balfour on the art of facilitation (Balfour, Reference Balfour and Preston2016; Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020). They argue that the applied theatre artist has the capacity to reflexively adapt artistic devices in response to the relational dynamics at play in the communities within which they work. I consider how the playwright may adapt the tools of their craft, and work collaboratively with the creative team, to develop a ‘responsive text’. Drawing upon James Thompson’s ‘care aesthetics’, I consider how ethical concerns can be foregrounded when developing a participatory work, ensuring the performance experience is accessible and inclusive, while also fostering creative expression (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2023).

In Section 2, I look to playwrights including Tim Crouch, Nassim Soleimanpour, Hannah Jane Walker, and Chris Thorpe, all of whom employ text-based strategies to invite different modes of audience co-creation in performance. Analysing the techniques they utilise in their plays, I consider how the playwright may figure textually and physically in performance, in a participatory work. I discuss how the participatory devices these playwrights crafted cohere with the wider dramaturgy of their plays, underscoring the thematic aims of the work. I consider how principles of facilitation can be applied alongside the tools of playwriting craft towards the delivery of clearly communicated instructions, as these artists guide the audience through participation in a manner that is consistent with established character and narrative.

In Section 3, I bring together the ideas explored in the previous sections, alongside learnings that emerged through writing and sharing my own co-authored work, ‘Being with Raven’, to propose how principles of care can guide the playwright at each stage of developing a participatory work. I consider how caring values such as attentiveness, sensitivity, and responsibility can guide the playwright through the process of writing, rehearsing, and staging a participatory performance.

I conclude by distilling the learnings from this study to offer a series of proposals which may be usefully applied by playwrights wishing to develop a participatory performance model. I suggest that a heightened attention to relational dynamics is a timely intervention in the current context, as the theatre sector attempts to address historically exclusionary or damaging practices and cultivate more accessible, caring working environments. Learning from applied theatre colleagues, I argue that a focus on nurturing better relationships can also support creative innovation.

1.1 Why Applied Theatre?

I have discussed the inherent sociality of theatre and how makers of participatory performance choose to draw attention to this constituent feature of the art form – the relationship with the audience. I argue that creators of participatory works have another aesthetic tool within their repertoire, the point of view or contribution of the audience. Following on from this, then, we might conceive that bringing this additional aesthetic media into the dramaturgy of the work subsequently calls for a different set of skills to be employed. In this section, I look to the field of applied theatre to gain an understanding of the particular qualities that can guide the maker of a participatory performance in their aim of establishing and maintaining interaction with audience members. The rationale being that many techniques employed in contemporary participatory performance can trace their lineage back to creative devices that evolved in an applied theatre context (Nicholson, Reference Noddings2015, p. 8; Tomlin, Reference Tronto2015, pp. 77–80). Applied theatre is a term that, Helen Nicholson writes, has come to denote ‘forms of dramatic activity that primarily exist outside conventional mainstream theatre institutions, and which are specifically intended to benefit individuals, communities and societies’ (Nicholson, Reference Noddings2015, p. 2). It can encompass a broad range of practices, including ‘drama education and theatre in education, theatre in health education, theatre for development, theatre in prisons, community theatre, heritage theatre and reminiscence theatre’ (Nicholson, Reference Noddings2015, p. 2).

Typically, applied theatre works will place an emphasis on shared involvement in the creative process, inviting all participants to engage physically and emotionally in theatre-making. Contemporary applied theatre practices have been informed by twentieth-century pedagogies and theatrical movements that employed participatory methods as a means to affect social change, including Brecht’s Lehrstücke and Workers’ Theatre, the British TIE movement and the pedagogy of Paulo Freire, and Augusto Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed. Today, many of the devices employed by applied theatre practitioners, and participatory performance artists more broadly, bear resemblance to the interactive devices seen to be characteristic of these forbearers (although not necessarily to achieve the same political aims that they were originally conceived to realise). Boal’s positioning of the audience member as a ‘spect-actor’ is an early, influential, example of externalised participation, for example (Boal, Reference Boal1979), while Brecht’s emphasis on critical engagement and meaning-making can be understood as one way of making the mode of internalised participation more explicit.

Although the locations, formats, and functions of projects falling under the applied theatre umbrella may be multifarious, a common thread is the emphasis on nurturing enriching interpersonal relations through arts activity, so much so that Nicholson outlines a proposal for a ‘new ontology of applied theatre as practice of relation’ (Hughes and Nicholson, 2016, p 11). It is the emphasis on the relational that intersects with the position I take in this study – that for the playwright developing a participatory performance attunement to the altered relational dynamics in such a work is integral, and a reconfiguration of their role, and approaches to playwriting craft, is necessary to achieve this.

While historically studies in applied theatre may have focused primarily on the perceived benefits for the participants, recent contributions from scholars in the field have turned attention to how these projects are crafted and executed by the applied theatre practitioners who lead them. The focus in this section is not so much on specific techniques or creative strategies to invite participation (this is explored in Sections 2 and 3), rather I look to insights from applied theatre practitioners to understand the qualities and principles that can guide the playwright, and their collaborators, as they develop a participatory work. In particular, I suggest that some of the ethical concerns which are foregrounded in applied theatre practice are equally as pertinent to the maker of a participatory performance, and in addition to nurturing fair and accessible working environments can support aesthetic experimentation and the development of text-led interactive devices.

1.2 ‘Making Easy’: The Art of Facilitation

In The Applied Theatre Artist, Kay Hepplewhite focuses on the particular skills called for in applied theatre projects (Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020). What becomes evident in her study, and from contributions from others such as Michael Balfour, is that as well as expertise in the artform, applied theatre calls for interpersonal attributes that see practitioners able to read and respond to the specific relational dynamics at play within the community with which they are working. Balfour describes this as the ‘living interplay between the social and aesthetic instincts’ (Balfour, Reference Balfour and Preston2016, p. 161). He argues that for the applied theatre facilitator ‘social impulses are entwined with the aesthetic instinct in which decisions about forms and approaches co-exist with the social climate of the group’ (Balfour, Reference Balfour and Preston2016, p. 161). In addition to drawing upon tools of their artistic craft, the applied theatre practitioner will be aware of, and sensitive to, the shifting dynamics within the group and, in the moment, will actively reshape the aesthetic programme of the work accordingly. Arguably, one of the most infamous prototypes of an applied theatre facilitator is Boal’s Joker. The Joker can be seen as a guide for audience participants as they navigate two worlds: that of the fictional frame and that of their own reality. In Boal’s Forum Theatre, this would have been employed to realise specific political objectives, while contemporary applied theatre practitioners may be responding to more ideologically diverse imperatives the core principle of managing the interaction between personal experience and creative output remains.

Both Balfour and Hepplewhite articulate the requirements for applied theatre practitioners to balance preparing the creative framework for the project – a structure to invite participants to engage with – while at the same time exhibiting the reflexivity and openness to adapt that framework in response to the particular needs of the specific context and individuals involved in the project. Indeed, responsivity is the core value that underpins Hepplewhite’s analysis of the craft of the applied theatre artist. This echoes Balfour’s assertion that a programme of applied theatre work is a ‘living interplay’ that involves ‘switching, aligning, integrating’ (Balfour, Reference Balfour and Preston2016, p. 161). Their analysis explores how practitioners adapt their artistic practice to account for the additional social concerns present in applied theatre projects, and I believe this can be instructive for the playwright as they consider how their craft can be augmented to facilitate the different relational dynamics at play in a participatory performance.

Hepplewhite identifies ‘anticipation and adaptation’ as two features of a responsive practice. Adaptation can be seen to reflect the capacity of an applied theatre practitioner to respond to what is happening in the moment, to be attuned to the needs of the group they are working with and adapt creative activities accordingly (Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020, p. 5). Parallels can be drawn with the in-the-moment, improvisational skills that the performer in a participatory work will employ as they interact with the audience and, respond to the behaviours, or contributions, that are unique to each performance. (Typically, this will be the responsibility of the performer more so than the playwright, although there are playwrights who also perform in their work. The presence of the playwright in a participatory performance is explored in more depth in Section 2.) Anticipation acknowledges the advanced preparation that the applied theatre practitioner will undertake to account for the different outcomes that might unfold in the moment of delivery. By coupling ‘adaptation’ with ‘anticipation’, Hepplewhite underlines the fact that the performer’s ability to respond in the moment can be enhanced by forward planning and forethought, and this phase can happen in collaboration with a wider creative team. While it may fall to the performer to execute an interactive technique in performance, and to do so in a manner which is genuinely responsive to the unique relationship established with a particular audience/member, the quality with which they are able to do so, hinges on support from the creative team, including the playwright. Throughout this Element, I will explore how the playwright can craft responsive participatory strategies from the earliest stages of writing a script and then work collaboratively with performers and directors in the development phases to hone and rehearse these techniques. Both Balfour and Hepplewhite point to the etymological root of ‘facilitation’, meaning ‘to make things easy’, noting that the seeming ease with which an experienced applied theatre practitioner is able to engage the groups they are working with, belies the extensive planning which they have undertaken (Balfour, Reference Balfour and Preston2016, p. 151; Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020, p. 25). The apparent ‘easiness’ with which the practitioner delivers these activities can, in fact, render the skill taken to do so invisible. This is significant for the creator of a participatory work to consider; the desired outcome in performance may be a natural fluidity to the execution of interactive techniques, yet this easy delivery is contingent on preparation and planning, which can be scripted and well-rehearsed.

For Balfour and Hepplewhite, a skilled and experienced applied theatre artist facilitates engagement with their participants, listens to them, and embeds their ideas and artistic contributions into the project. This is a principle that the creators of participatory works can also be attuned to. Participatory devices will be less successful when a contribution is invited from the audience, yet is quickly disregarded, forgotten, or appears to have little bearing upon how the performance plays out. The principle of responsivity prompts the creator to consider how calls for participation, and any subsequent audience contributions, may be meaningfully integrated in the work to serve the overall dramaturgy. Relatedly, Hepplewhite notes that in applied theatre projects there is typically a ‘dialogic dynamic between the practitioner, the work, the participants and the wider context’ (Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020, pp. 9–13). In a performance, this ‘dialogue’ may manifest in ways beyond the linguistic – through actions, gestures, movement, depending on the mode of participation that is invited from the audience. What Hepplewhite argues is important for the applied theatre practitioner, and in turn, I propose can be helpful for the creator of the participatory work to consider, is the sense of a back and forth between artists and audience participants. Contributions are invited, then woven into the body of the piece, and as such, the audience play a tangible role in shaping the performance; their presence or contribution is essential for the meaning of the work to be realised, rather than a tokenistic gesture. Although this is not necessarily the sense that Hepplewhite was using the word in her discussion, it is worth acknowledging that ‘dialogue’ will carry a particular resonance for a playwright. The playwright will have skills in crafting conversation between characters, skills that can be modified and utilised as they develop a participatory work. The playwright’s expertise in crafting a character’s speech can be employed to open up the exchange between performer and audience. The crafted dialogue can guide the performer in thinking through the style and tone of the relationship that is established between the character and the audience members. Indeed, this is one way in which the playwright can have a role in shaping the ‘ease’ with which interaction is invited and managed in performance.

Another key tenet of Hepplewhite’s responsive practice is what she terms ‘respond-ability’, ‘how practitioners are themselves able to engage with, and develop, through the work’ (Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020, p. 5). The varied nature of applied theatre projects can see practitioners working with a range of community groups, in different locations, responding to different aims and intended outcomes. Their role has a shapeshifting quality, and consequently, a process of reflection is important, given how likely it is that each project will place different demands upon the practitioner and call for different aspects of expertise to be employed. Embedding self-reflexivity into the practice underscores the conviction that it is not just participants who are affected by engagement in an applied theatre project – it is a multi-directional process of change that will shape each person involved. Although the context may be different for the maker of a participatory work, there is something to be learnt from the principle of openness and ongoing reflection. Indeed, openness is at the very core of what it is to create and share a participatory work. Radosavljevic’s use of ‘porosity’ to describe works which have ‘interactivity and co-creativity in its structures’, makes evident how there is space within these performances to be continually shaped and reshaped by the different audience groups that participate in them (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 191). A participatory performance is in a constant state of becoming, ever informed by the different audiences that partake in it, and arguably therefore, there is continual scope for learning, reflection, and adaptation. Even after the rehearsal period, the dialogue may continue within the creative team as performers learn from their audiences and make changes accordingly. To successfully craft and share an ‘open’ dramaturgical structure in turn calls for openness from all team members, and this can involve each person’s role encompassing new and different duties to support the execution of the artistic vision. Further, ongoing dialogue and feedback amongst the creative team may be necessary to ensure, not only that the artistic aims are being met, but that the performances remain safe and respectful for both artists and audiences. There are arguably heightened risks attached to an ‘open’ performance model, which invites direct interaction and as such leaves both artists and audiences exposed to uncertain outcomes. As the creator of a participatory work, part of the task will be preparing for and managing the experience so that there are contingencies in place that prevent this openness from resulting in feelings of exploitation or harm.

The ‘grammatical alignment’ of responsibility and responsivity is consciously invoked by Hepplewhite, as she notes ‘applied theatre’s prioritisation of ethically sound practice’ (Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020, p. 8). The nature of applied theatre work and the particular requirements of the diverse groups that practitioners may collaborate with means that questions of ethics, safeguarding, and responsibility are a core component of their practice. Scholars in the field, however, have argued that the ethical concerns which may be central to an applied theatre practice, do not render less important their artistic rigour and quality. Notably, Gareth White makes the case for emphasising the aesthetics in applied theatre work (White, Reference White2015) while Hepplewhite takes the position that theatre craft is the core foundation of an applied theatre practice, on to which the necessary interpersonal and ethical concerns are ‘grafted’ (Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020, p. 37). They argue that it is a disservice to the highly skilled artistry of the applied theatre practitioner to suggest their work should solely be judged in terms of its perceived social efficacy. Aesthetic and ethical considerations are equally central to the practice without one being in service to the other.

For the purposes of this study, I make the same argument, albeit from a different point of view. While the subject of this project, text-led participatory performance, would not fall under the umbrella of applied theatre, that does not mean the focus should purely be on the aesthetic at the expense of ethical considerations. In much the same way that White and Hepplewhite challenge the notion that aesthetics are secondary in an applied theatre project, I argue that it should not be the case that questions of inter-relational responsibility are viewed as any less important than the artistic aims of a participatory performance.

1.3 Towards Careful Art: Interweaving Ethics and Aesthetics

Applied theatre can be seen to have a long-standing relationship with care; arts projects within this field often involve partnerships with institutions that are recognised as care providers. Yet, care can be a term that is deployed, ironically enough, carelessly, without real consideration of what is meant or, more significantly, whether acts operating under the moniker are in fact experienced as caring by the intended recipient. In recent years, applied theatre scholars have reflected upon the relationship between their work and the concept of care more explicitly, interrogating with nuance what care means in theory and in practice (Fisher & Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020; Thompson, Reference Tomlin2023). A more incisive and considered understanding of care can be found through engaging directly with care ethics, a moral philosophy that emerged from feminist ethics with key, foundational works from Carol Gilligan (Gilligan, Reference Gilligan1982), Nel Noddings (Noddings, Reference Noddings1984), Virginia Held (Held, Reference Held1993), Joan Tronto (Tronto, Reference Walker and Thorpe1993), and Eva Feder Kittay (Kittay, Reference Machon1999). Although within the field there are divergent definitions of care, a central, unifying principle is that care ethics is concerned with relations and derives from a relational ontology. As Held writes, ‘it is the relatedness of human beings, built and rebuilt, that the ethics of care is being developed to try to understand, evaluate and guide’ (Held, Reference Held2006, p. 30). Care ethicists do not just address moral ideals in the abstract but are concerned with the practical application of the values of care in a range of contexts from the intimate, familial, institutional, and global. A philosophy of care outlines intrinsic values that should then inform how we act with one another in practice. Joan Tronto defines four ‘ethical elements of care’ as ‘attentiveness, responsibility, competence, and responsiveness’ (Tronto, Reference Tronto2015, p. 262). These qualities may act as guidelines to understand and evaluate behaviours and relational experiences. It is notable, that these qualities overlap with those identified by Hepplewhite as key components of a skilled applied theatre artist. Relatedly, Amanda Stuart Fisher suggests that care has a constitutive relationship with performance, noting ‘it is impossible to conceive of caring practice outside the parameters of how it is performed’ (Fisher, Reference Fisher, Fisher and Thompson2020, p. 7). Like live performance, Fisher argues that acts of care may be rehearsed and prepared for. Indeed, this pertains to the quality of ‘competency’, one of Tronto’s defining principles of care. Yet, also like performance, an act of care will be singular and different each time it is performed. This speaks to Tronto’s principles of ‘attentiveness’ and ‘responsiveness’: the caregiver is concerned with how their caring action, or ‘performance’, is experienced by the care receiver and will therefore respond to, and adapt their behaviours, accordingly. We might draw parallels here between the way in which modes of live performance, particularly those that invite direct interaction, are informed and continually shaped by responses from the audience. The balance required between offering practiced and rehearsed gestures but delivering them with a flexibility that can respond to the particular relational conditions of the live performance is a recurring point of discussion in this Element.

James Thompson integrates principles of care ethics with aesthetics to make the double claim that care can be artful, and that art-making can also be care-taking. A core proposition of ‘care aesthetics’ is that interpersonal relations can be crafted, prompting theatre-makers to consider what it would mean to approach relations with the same attentiveness as they would other components of the dramaturgy. This intersects with the argument I have made throughout this section, that in a participatory work, the point of view of the audience becomes artistic media and needs to be planned and prepared for as such. However, in a model of care aesthetics, each relationship in the process of preparing and sharing an artwork is embedded in a network; it is not possible to isolate one relational dynamic from the others. Therefore, the practice of ‘crafting relations’ does not solely pertain to the artist–audience relationship but is a call to approach all relationships within the creative team with care and attentiveness. Rather than assuming relationships are inevitable and will just happen by virtue of needing to work together, it is about considering how mutual respect and regard can be modelled with the aim of cultivating richer, more equitable, and creatively rewarding interpersonal dynamics. The contention is that the quality of relationships in the preparatory and development phases of an arts project will ultimately shape and inform the relations that are established with the audience in live performance. In this way, the concept can be understood as a reconfiguration of Bourriaud’s Relational Aesthetics, which Thompson criticises on similar grounds to Bishop, arguing that ‘the power of the concept of relational aesthetics is weakened by the fact it does not suggest why relations with others might be endorsed or what type of relations we might aspire to develop’ (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020, p. 44).

I take the position that a theatre-maker wishing to establish a more direct relationship with the audience, must be of the opinion that so doing will enhance and enrich the work. For this reason, Thompson’s foundational principle of approaching both collaborators and audiences with ‘respect and regard’ would seem to be axiomatic (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020). However, as White attests, audience participation can be one of the most divisive, and despised, forms of performance (White, Reference White2013, p. 1). While an element of this will be down to the taste of the individual, it is worth acknowledging that there are examples of participatory works in which audience members have described feeling manipulated, humiliated, and pressurised to interact. Some artists will contend that a confrontational approach is intentional, a considered artistic strategy. Such an argument has validity, yet inspired by care aesthetics, and the approaches taken by applied theatre artists, I am more interested in participatory strategies which firstly, offer genuine choice and give audiences the opportunity to consent to participate rather than being thrust into a position of doing so, and secondly, endeavour to foster a supportive relationship towards co-creation. Like Thompson, I take the view that a caring and inclusive environment is conducive to artistic expression. Throughout this study, I explore the proposition that an audience member will be more inclined to accept the invitation to participate, and their experience of doing so will be enhanced, if they feel supported and encouraged through that process. In this way, care can become part of the creative strategy to facilitate and maintain audience participation in performance.

Beyond cerebral engagement with the principles and values of care, careful art is focused upon how these values are embodied in practice, accounting for the full sensory experience of each person in the network of performance. Put simply, how people feel physically and emotionally in the rehearsal/performance space will inform how they relate to one another and the artwork. There are different, interconnected elements to this proposition; on the one hand, there is the recognition that paying attention to the somatic can lead to practical adjustments which will improve the quality of the social dynamics at play in each stage of the artistic process. This can encompass more ‘functional’ choices pertaining to the comfort and accessibility of the space, the schedule for the working day, scope for breaks, and resources provided for emotional support. Thompson challenges the notion that one can demarcate the purely purpose-related from the aesthetic; the artistic practice is imbricated in the environment in which it takes place (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2023, p. 27). The materiality of the working environment, and the ease and comfort in which bodies are able to move and interact in that space, is in a mutually affirming interplay with the artistic practice unfolding within it.

Further, Thompson is also interested in the aesthetics ‘found in the bonding of the links between people, those subtle bodily inflections that produce affection and recognition’ (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2023, p. 35). Scholars of performance are attuned to the symbiotic relationship between audience and artists, described by Erika Fischer-Lichte as the ‘autopoietic feedback loop’ (Fischer-Lichte, Reference Fischer-Lichte2008, p. 41), and Thompson argues that the sensations that arise through the network of relations in a performance can be understood for their aesthetic quality (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020, p. 45). With regards to participatory performance, I am interested in the assertion that the inter-relational affects are not just a fleeting by-product of the live event but can be understood as part of the overall dramaturgy. The porous quality of a participatory work arguably offers a wider opportunity for observing how each different audience configuration interacts in its own singular way to the piece, and consequently each performance is shaped by different relational dynamics and affective qualities. The extent to which the creators of a participatory work can have a hand in shaping the affective tenor of a performance is a line of enquiry revisited throughout this Element.

In a model of careful art, Thompson contends that each person shares in the responsibility for practicing care; this means being attuned to the collective experience but crucially, also being responsive to the particular needs and preferences of individuals within the network. I have discussed Rancière’s assertion that each spectator is equal in their ability to engage in the interpretative act, and while I share that belief, I argue it is important to be aware of the material inequities that may impact a person’s capacity to engage with a work. Artists can be alert to the role they have in shaping a performance experience that is inclusive and accessible, and therefore supports each audience member in fulfilling their own capacity to engage with the work. In a model of care aesthetics, duties of care do not fall to any one individual, and there will be different ways in which each team member can employ the skills of their craft to play their part in developing an inclusive performance. Playwright Paul Sirett has described his work as a writer with Graeae Theatre Company, and the many creative solutions he found to embedding audio description and sign language into the plays he created with the company (Sirret, Reference Soleimanpour2022, pp. 169–172). Rather than there simply being one day in a performance’s run in which an Audio Described or Signed production is offered – an approach that acutely limits the opportunity for visually impaired and d/Deaf audiences to engage with the work – Sirett explored techniques such as creating a character for the audio describer, so they were placed centrally in each performance, or embedded use of captions within the design of the play (Sirret, Reference Soleimanpour2022, pp. 169–172.). He argues that ‘access is not an add-on’ and urges playwrights to think about accessibility from the earliest stages, with the result being ‘inclusion and enhanced theatricality’ (Sirret, Reference Soleimanpour2022, p. 169). This very much intersects with care aesthetics; caring gestures can be embedded into the process from the outset so that they are imbricated in and enhance the writing process. I also suggest that, with regard to developing participatory devices, the playwright can think about accessibility in broad terms. Different audience members may have different comfort levels with engaging in performance. While some may be excited at the prospect of speaking aloud or coming on stage to interact, this may be extremely uncomfortable for others. Being cognisant of this is a prompt for the playwright to think creatively about the different modalities of participation, and how there might be a variety of opportunities for audience members to interact.

To support the development of a range of participatory strategies, it will be beneficial for the playwright to work in dialogue with the creative team from the outset and throughout the process. Care aesthetics’ emphasis on reciprocity in a relational network underpins the principle that the art-making process should be collaborative. Given that a participatory performance invites co-creation, it seems apposite that the process of developing the work should be grounded in an approach which emphasises exchange and discussion. To refer back to the earlier discussion on Hepplewhite’s ‘respond-ability’, this might mean that specific roles in the team take on a more porous quality rather than being bound to fixed ideas as to which duties befall which person. There are models of theatre-making in which the playwright will develop final drafts of a script independently, and possibly only be present for rehearsals in the first and final weeks, yet I would suggest that, to support the development of text-based strategies towards overtly social means – interaction with the audience – the playwright may benefit from being more consistently embedded within the team. Relatedly, Liz Tomlin has argued that collaborative modes of working can result in aesthetic innovation with text (Tomlin, Reference Tomlin2013, p. 120). I have discussed the inherent sociality of theatre, and a collaborative working practice is one in which the social ontology of performance is embedded from the outset. As Tomlin writes, a social context is the ‘ultimate destination’ of a performance text, and so generating it in a relational, collaborative manner is arguably one way to fully realise the potential characteristics particular to the form (Tomlin, Reference Tomlin2013).

The aim of this section has been to consider how approaches from applied theatre, a practice that has relationality embedded in its ontology and has historically informed the evolution of participatory performance devices, could be usefully adopted by the playwright as they develop strategies to facilitate audience co-authorship. The skills of the applied theatre practitioner demonstrate the significance of crafting a ‘responsive’ performance framework which can adapt to integrate the contributions offered by audience members. I have also explored how ethical considerations can work in generative interplay with making artistic choices, towards a performance model which nurtures genuine opportunities for co-creation and exchange.

2.1 Text and Co-Creation

In this section, I look at the work of playwrights who employ text-based strategies to invite audience co-creation in performance. Artists included in the study are Tim Crouch, Nassim Soleimanpour, Chris Thorpe, and Hannah Jane Walker. Duska Radosavljevic’s thinking on ‘relational new works’ has been particularly instructive in shaping my understanding and analysis. In her study, Radosavljevic focuses on the ‘variety of early twenty first-century dramaturgy that inscribes the spectator into the work’ (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 150). ‘Inscribe’ is an illuminating choice of word here, conveying the intentionality and conscious crafting undertaken by the makers of these works to invite the spectator ‘in’ to the performance in the way that Radosavljevic identifies. She argues a unifying characteristic of these performances is that they ‘in some way depend on the audience’s authorial input for their full meaning to be realised’ (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 151). I am interested in, and will return to, the idea of the audience’s input being perceived as meaningful. This intersects with qualities discussed in Section 1, in which I explore how the skilled applied theatre artist responds to and embeds the contributions from their audience-participants into the creative programme of work they undertake. I posit that participatory devices are more artistically successful, and feel more satisfying and rewarding for audience members, when their contributions are recognised as having a clear impact upon the body of work; they are integral to the success of the dramaturgy rather than a passing gesture at interaction. Certainly, in the productions that Radosavljevic discusses, engagement with the audience is a considered formal innovation designed to support the broader thematic aims of the work. The works explored by Radosavljevic, and the examples I analyse in this section, seek to embed the audience in the theatre-making process as co-authors, in this way, she argues ‘space is made for the audience’s authority, rather than solely the maker’s own’ (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 151). Across the works referred to in this study, the forms of audience engagement crafted by the makers are varied, from the more overt, externalised acts of participation: writing; voicing ideas; taking on the role of characters; offering props, to the internalised, Rancièrian conception of participation as the interpretative act. In so doing, these are models of performance which not only challenge the idea of a single authorial voice but also invite reflection upon the many different forms that authorship may take.

The notion of the participating spectator has garnered interest across a range of artistic forms, including Live Art, contemporary dance, digital theatre, and gaming studies, each field offers examples of artists developing innovative strategies to facilitate different modalities of audience co-authorship. While it is beyond the scope of this study to delve into analysis across these wide-ranging fields, it is important to acknowledge experimentation with participatory strategies has emerged from a variety of disciplinary directions. As this Element is particularly focused on the role of the playwright in participatory performance, this has provided the rationale for the works analysed in this study; the artists selected for discussion have self-described as playwrights or writers. I analyse the different ways in which the artists have crafted a written framework that makes space for the audience to participate as co-creators of the performance. I am also particularly interested in instances whereby these artists invite the audience to write and generate their own text over the course of performance; in these examples, text is not only employed as the means to facilitate co-creation but becomes a mode of participation in and of itself. I am interested in the ways in which the craft of the playwright is foregrounded in these performances, yet not in a manner that calls for collaborators and audiences to be in service to a single-authored vision. On the contrary, these are models that seek to draw attention to meaning-making as a collaborative act and the ways in which the same textual prompts may yield multiple interpretations.

2.2 Tim Crouch: Active Interpretation

Tim Crouch is a playwright, performer, and theatre-maker who, with his collaborators Karl James and Andy Smith, has produced works including My Arm, An Oak Tree, ENGLAND, The Author, and Total Immediate Collective Imminent Terrestrial Salvation, all of which experiment with dramaturgical form to interrogate ideas around representation in the theatre and the role of the spectator as co-creator of meaning. It is telling that the published volume of his works, Crouch: Plays One, includes a quotation from Rancière’s essay The Emancipated Spectator: ‘a new adventure in a new idiom calls for spectators who are active interpreters … An emancipated community is in fact a community of storytellers and translators’ (Rancière, Reference Shutt2009, p. 22).

Crouch’s works draw attention to the ‘active interpretation’, what I term ‘internalised participation’, that the audience will engage in. While, following Rancière, we can understand this as a mode of spectatorial participation that occurs in any performance, one might argue that in theatrical forms such as dramatic realism or naturalism, which strive for very literal representation on stage, the space for active interpretation is minimised. Certainly, in an interview given to Radosavljevic, Crouch, who, prior to developing his own plays, had been working as an actor and drama teacher, explains that his experimentation in writing was borne from frustrations with, what he describes as, ‘psychologically and realistically motivated rehearsal processes’ (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 217). Instead, he became increasingly interested in theatre’s relationship with the audience.

A revelatory moment emerged when developing what would be his first play, My Arm; he embedded a device he had used in teaching workshops, whereby actors in a scene are replaced by objects. The necessity for the spectator to engage imaginatively becomes explicit, as they are called upon to transform the object into the character. This strategy then became central to the form of My Arm, which follows the account of a man who, as a child, decides to lift his arm above his head, remaining in this posture throughout his life. Performed by Crouch as a one-man show, random objects gathered from the audience at the beginning of the performance are cast as all other characters in the play, placed in front of a camera and projected on a screen. The audience are invited to engage in an externalised act of participation by providing objects on their person to be used in performance. These acts of externalised, material participation then serve to activate the imagination and draw attention to the mode of internalised interpretation, as the (often absurd or humorous) incongruity between the object and the character it stands in for invites the audience to internally create their own vision of that character. In this way, the two modalities of participation work in tandem. The act of imaginative transformation highlights the fundamental relationship between the audience and the artwork, but also, by inviting audience members to literally bring something of themselves to the work, attention is drawn to each person gathered, heightening the audience’s awareness of who is present and who has contributed what. While awareness of the relational conditions of the performance event may be foregrounded, there is no intention to drive the audience to a collective interpretation; the objects will carry different resonances and different associations for each person gathered, and therefore, each audience member is afforded the space to form their own internal images of the characters the objects represent. In this way, Crouch allows the audience to become an ‘emancipated community of storytellers’.

Crouch’s desire to challenge the imaginative limitations of literal representation is embedded in the work in other ways. The man spends his life with his arm raised above his head and, as an unintended consequence, becomes a feted subject in the contemporary art world. Yet in performance the actor never raises his arm. Similarly, at one point in the play, the man explains ‘I conceded to having this finger amputated because it was dead’, while pointing to the ‘amputated’ finger, still very much attached to his hand (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011, p. 39). As with the arm, there is no attempt to figuratively represent what is being said; rather than the performer endeavouring to transform himself to align with the words being spoken, the audience use the textual description as the prompt from which they participate in the creative act, producing the ‘physical transformation’ in their mind’s eye. For Crouch this is exciting, both from the point of view as maker, and that of the spectator (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 218). As a performer, it is liberating not to be beholden to the often psychologically gruelling pressures of realist representation. He argues this is also artistically stimulating for the audience; the scope of what the play is, who the characters are and how they can relate to them, is opened up in ways it cannot be when so much of the representation has been ‘done’ for them (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 218).

The textual framework is crucial in facilitating this mode of audience co-authorship. There is no attempt at building the material reality of the characters and the world they inhabit; as other elements of the scenography are stripped away, the text, married with the gathered objects, becomes the primary media through which the active interpretation the audience are prompted to engage in, occurs. Crouch deploys the skills of playwriting craft to enable the audience to participate. The narrative is clearly structured, as one man looks back on his life, from childhood to the present day, from which he addresses the audience. There is a distinct incident, the seemingly innocuous decision to raise his arm above his head, which changes his life and sets the course of the journey he relays. The story is grounded in specific times and locations, from 1970s Isle of Wight, through to London and later New York; the textures of life in these contexts is evoked with recognisable details: Silver Jubilee celebrations, private views at the ICA, and finally, a hospital in the Lower East Side (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011, pp. 25–47). Likewise, while the characters are not represented by actors, descriptions in the text flesh them out, offer nuance and provide insight into who they are and the lives they lead. The audience are not left adrift with a completely blank canvas. The crafted story, verbally communicated by Crouch as performer, guides them in the process of active interpretation. The discord between the scripted details and the objects assembled on stage, enlivens this process, making explicit the work the audience are undertaking as co-creators to imbue the story with meaning.

The formal innovations have a synergy with themes addressed in the play. The character’s almost incidental decision to lift his arm above his head sees him become a subject of reverence in the art world. Different artists bestow this act with meaning and endeavour to document him in various mediums. As the man describes the ways artists try to represent him – figurative sketches, photography, and conceptual art – the fact that on stage, no attempt is made, is a potent counterpoint to the narrative, underscoring the absurdity, and futility of these efforts. Further, it raises questions about a potentially exploitative appetite for sensationalism in the arts and entertainment industries, and what it means to be a spectator to such acts.

Across his body of work, we see examples of Crouch both drawing attention to imaginative, internalised engagement, but also, facilitating externalised, material acts of participation. Pertinent to the interests of this study, his work I Cinna, invites the audience to write over the course of the performance (Crouch, Reference Crouch2012). Another one-man play performed by Crouch, I, Cinna gives voice to the unfortunate poet, who in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar is murdered by the mob when mistaken for a conspirator with a hand in Caesar’s assassination. The play imagines Cinna in the days leading up to his death, as he bears witness to political upheaval and violence taking place around him. He questions what the role of the poet can be in the face of political adversity. What power do words have? He rhetorically puts these questions to the audience while also guiding them through the process of writing a poem together. The mode of participation is made explicit from the outset; each audience member is provided with a notebook and pen and told they will write together. Crouch, likely aware of how stultifying a blank page can be, guides the audience through simpler writing tasks, gently building up to creating a poem. It is worth noting that this play was created for young audiences (aged 11–14). This is relevant as Crouch is clearly attuned to the intended audience demographic, and acts of participation in this work are managed carefully to be accessible. Crouch, experienced as an educator, has embedded principles of facilitation within this work to support the audience as they write. The invitations begin with simple requests – Cinna spelling out words and names for the audience to note down, moving on to writing individual details in response to more seemingly straightforward questions, such as ‘who rules your country?’ (Crouch, Reference Crouch2012, p. 22), towards answering more personal, nuanced provocations, ‘what would you die for? What would you kill for?’ (Crouch, Reference Crouch2012, p. 27).

The collective writing exercises are embedded in and amongst Cinna’s accounts of what is happening in the city outside: Caesar’s rise and fall, the angry crowds and accounts of the rhetoric employed by Mark Antony to influence the citizens of Rome. Cinna makes connections between the ways words can be organised, and how power is distributed in a republic: ‘Every word from the same place, made from the same 26 letters. But some words are more equal than others’ (Crouch, Reference Crouch2012, p. 25). As the play unfolds, the audience are invited to reflect upon the impact of different words and consider if writing can be implemented as a tool of dissent. The mode of participation invited from the audience, therefore, is congruous with the themes explored in the narrative. The request to participate is made more inviting and accessible due to clearly articulated parameters around the task. Much like the blank page, an open-ended invitation to write or respond to a prompt with no sense of how long for, can in fact be inimical to creative expression. In the first instance that the audience are given a freer invitation to write, Cinna tells them they have as long as it takes to boil the kettle to complete their responses (Crouch, Reference Crouch2012, p. 28). This clear, audible parameter at the same time coheres with the dramatic action on stage – Cinna is in the process of making a cup of tea. When the audience are later asked to write the poem of Cinna’s death, he offers both encouragement and a clear timeframe: ‘Nothing you write will be wrong. Everything is allowed. The only condition is that you must improve on the blank page … Bring my death to life with your words. Three minutes starting now’ (Crouch, Reference Crouch2012, p. 45).

This, the most complex of the writing tasks, is made easier by the combination of a time limit, and the assurance that any mark on the paper will be an improvement on the blank page. Further inspiration is offered, implicitly, by the film of a burning building that plays for the duration of the three minutes, and gestures undertaken by Cinna in this time – he applies blood, dust and dirt to his face, replaces his dressing gown for a filthy, bloodied one. While there is no verbalised expectation that audience members will respond directly to what unfolds on stage, these actions can serve to further ignite their imagination. This blending of explicitly articulated instructions, and visual prompts are designed to support the process of co-authoring. Crouch himself has discussed how having a rule to respond to when developing a work serves as a ‘liberating constriction’, and he applies the same principle here for the audience (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 155). An experienced facilitator, Crouch will be aware that clear guidance and a fixed framework to work within actually help foster the generation of ideas. These scripted instructions are designed to aid the act of participation, clarifying to the audience what they are being asked to do. However, these do not feel extraneous to the wider narrative but adhere to the wider dramaturgy of the play. This is a melding of different skills, the facilitator’s awareness of how to build up to an activity, supporting participants with clear instructions, yet delivered in a manner that is consistent with the characterisation the playwright has developed, crafted to underscore the central thematic concerns of the play.

I have explored Crouch’s intention to enliven the spectatorial experience by drawing attention to necessary acts of audience co-creation in theatre, embedding strategies which make the always-already process of ‘active interpretation’ explicit. Yet, his interest in spectatorial responsibility extends beyond the creative act of co-authoring, and his works also prompt audiences to reflect upon and, take personal culpability, for what it is they choose to watch and are entertained by. This is a common thread running through the plays I have already discussed, yet is an issue dealt with most infamously, and provocatively, in his play The Author (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011). In the play, a fictional playwright called Tim Crouch has written and directed a graphic and violent play for the Royal Court, that recounts the abusive relationship between a father and daughter in an unspecified conflict zone. Over the course of the performance the fictional Tim Crouch, played by Crouch, and two of the actors from the fictional play reflect upon the work undertaken in preparing it and the impact the performance had upon them. A fourth character, an audience member who saw the play, shares his experience of watching it, and other plays of a similarly violent nature, that he has seen at the Royal Court. The Author is performed without any set or props, the audience sit facing one another in two raked seating banks, and the four performers deliver their interweaving accounts sat amongst them. Although nothing is acted out, there are descriptions of extreme violence, including beheading, rape and, in the final scenes, child abuse. The play satirises a type of creative process that in striving for ‘truth’ and sensational realism, exploitatively mines real life suffering and recreates it for the stage. As the textual content presented in The Author is particularly extreme and disturbing, the audience are invited to reflect on their own complicity in creating these violent, exploitative images by staying present to their unfolding. As Radosavljevic argues, the reason why this work, in which nothing is performed but all delivered verbally by the performers, is not a radio play, is ‘precisely because the audience reaction is integral to the dramaturgy of the piece, be it a walkout, an affective response or quiet contemplation’ (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 153).

Unlike works such as My Arm, or I, Cinna, where acts of material participation are invited from the audience, this is a work primarily interested in the internalised act of interpretation, and the space made for the audience to bear witness to one another engage with, and respond to, violent and unsettling content. There are some moments whereby material participation is facilitated: the play opens with light and cheery conversation from enthusiastic theatre-goer Adrian directed to individual audience members. The scripted playtext leaves blanks for the names of audience members that Adrian has learnt to be woven into the performance (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011, pp. 165–168). In these moments, the responses from the audience are heard, acknowledged, and perhaps even improvised around. Yet as the performance progresses, these invitations for a direct response from the audience become less frequent. At different junctures, performers ask the audience ‘Is this okay? Is it okay if I carry on?’ (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011, p. 194). While any response from an audience member will be heard, it will not be responded to, and the performers will carry on performing the script. In this way, we could not describe the work as ‘responsive’ – it is not designed to be dialogic, or to embed the audience contributions into the body of the piece. In Section 1, I propose that responsivity can be understood as a core quality of crafted audience participation, and Helen Freshwater has discussed how the absence of it in this work resulted in frustration or hostility from some audience members who felt that ‘audience participation was sought and then frozen out’ (Freshwater, Reference Freshwater2011). This is not a failing on the part of Crouch and his fellow performers, but the conscious decision to leave the audience responsible for decoding the rules of the engagement for themselves. This is a choice consistent with Crouch’s aims for the work – albeit one which resulted in some confusion and even upset for audience members (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011). The piece is meta-theatrical, and it requires reflexivity and cerebral untangling. Radosavljevic notes some of the complexities within the play and the options given to the audience: ‘If [the audience] they identify and empathise with the narrative alone, they are likely to be left feeling angered and disturbed … the real meaningful engagement with the piece emerges only when critical reflection – or ‘metaresponse’ – is deployed’ (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 154).

I would suggest there are two counter impulses at play in The Author; the intellectual framing, which, albeit complex, is signposted by Crouch in the script, and alongside this, the highly emotive and confrontational content. The affective impact of the latter, the visceral bodily sensations and emotions many audience members described experiencing in response to distressing material, diminishes the capacity to deploy the nuanced level of cerebral engagement Crouch has stated the piece requires. Crouch was aware that he could make things ‘easier’ (for both audiences and, arguably, the performers) by being more explicit and ‘stating the rules of The Author from the outset’ (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011). He describes clarifying for one audience member that Tim Crouch was fictional, and everything was scripted, and as a consequence, this was ‘the easiest show of the run’ (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011). But this acquiescence to demands for explanation from an audience member was contrary to Crouch’s intention for the work: ‘to state the rules would be to reduce the shared complexity and to reassert the old regime’ (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011).

In many ways, The Author, runs counter to the propositions that I make in this Element. I have already explored, and will go on to discuss further, that clarity and guidance through participatory devices, responsivity, and imbuing a performance with feelings of warmth, encouragement, and reassurance are strategies that can be employed to facilitate a meaningful experience of participation for the audience. Arguably, Crouch does not utilise these approaches throughout The Author, (although he does elsewhere in his body of work). To do so would be inconsistent with the ideas and arguments he was interested in exploring, so while The Author may have offered a modality of audience participation that was at times unclear or disturbing for audience members, it was dramaturgically consistent. This is a play that raises multi-faceted questions about responsibility in theatre. As in Crouch’s other plays, The Author is a work that gives the audience an essential role, in so doing, creative responsibility is shared. In addition to the notion of responsibility for the creative experience, The Author is concerned with responsibility for the safety and welfare of artists and audiences. Arguably, Crouch’s works were prescient in interrogating the pressures put upon actors – psychologically and physically – in the name of presenting a truthful, authentic performance. In recent years, mental and physical well-being has been at the forefront of discussions in the theatre sector. There is an ongoing assessment of measures that can be taken to ensure the industry is safer and more accessible (Bano, Reference Bano2021; Taylor, Reference Thompson, Fisher and Thompson2021). There has been a reappraisal of training methods which push students to the extremes and increasingly theatres will offer counselling or sources of support for actors and creative teams (UK Theatre, Reference Walker and Thorpe2025). Concurrently, there is heightened awareness of responsibility to the audience, on the part of organisations and theatre-makers. It has become common practice to give warnings of any troubling content and to offer resources and support post-show. How a heightened attention to care for the wellbeing of artists and audiences can work generatively towards creative experimentation is a recurring point of interest in this Element and explored more substantially in Section 3.

2.3 Nassim Soleimanpour: The Absent/Present Playwright

Nassim Soleimanpour is a playwright, who, like Crouch, crafts models of performance that draw attention to the collaboration inherent in performance. Soleimanpour wrote White Rabbit, Red Rabbit when under house arrest in Iran, with the aim of creating a play that could travel freely on his behalf. Taking inspiration from Crouch and employing a similar device to that seen in his work An Oak Tree, Rabbit is a play that is designed to be performed by a different performer each time as a ‘cold read’. Since its premiere in 2010, it has been translated into over thirty languages and performed all around the world (Nassim Soleimanpour Productions, Reference Noddings2025). In addition to the device of having an actor perform the script unseen, Nassim Soleimanpour also invites interaction with the audience in his text. Audience members are invited to assist with certain scenes by coming on stage to represent characters, offering props, taking notes, timing scenes, and in the final moments of the play, reading the text on behalf of the playwright.

While in An Oak Tree, Crouch is both playwright and performer, architect of the textual instruction but also on hand in performance to guide and support his unprepared co-performer, Soleimanpour remains physically absent throughout Rabbit. He does not meet the actors prior to the show or during the performance. Throughout this Element I explore the proposition that, in creating and sharing a participatory work, the role of the playwright might need to be expanded: they may need to be a more active presence during rehearsals, remain in dialogue with performers throughout the run of the performance and potentially adapt the script in response to different audience outcomes and contributions. Soleimanpour’s work offers a counterpoint to this proposition, as it is the literal absence of the playwright that sets the conditions for the participatory devices that unfold. Yet, while he may be physically absent, textually the playwright is very much a presence in the work, as he talks directly to the performer, and the audience, through the script. Indeed, part of the experiment of the work is to explore how far the text can go in establishing a connection with the audience. The play asks, what can the playwright engage the audience in doing simply from a written instruction?

Rabbit opens with the performer being handed the script, reading aloud to the audience, ‘I have no idea what is going to happen’ (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017b, p. 1). Over the years, the show has gained much acclaim and high-profile names have taken on the role. During the 2024 run at @sohoplace, performers included Michael Sheen, Dame Harriet Walter, and Sheila Atim (@sohoplace, 2025). At this point in the play’s history, therefore, most audience members will be aware of the cold read conceit and that some audience participation is involved. Indeed, the opportunity to share the stage with a popular, well-loved performer may be motivation in itself to both attend and participate in the performance. Arguably, there is a playful, potentially subversive pleasure to seeing an esteemed performer in a relative position of vulnerability. The reputation of the work and the casting it is now able to secure have become part of the framing and invitation to participate.

In the early days of staging this play, there wasn’t this fore-knowledge, or certainty of star casting to rely on. What was the same, however, was the reality of a performer, alone on stage, with a script they had not seen before. Even without the added inducement of celebrity, something of this situation is likely to generate a level of empathy and desire to offer support from most audience members. From the page, Soleimanpour endeavours to engage sympathy for this ‘poor actor’, who ‘has some hard work ahead of them’ (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017b, p. 3). Shortly after this appeal, the audience are asked to number themselves in order, specific numbers (as per the script) are then invited on stage to assist in the telling of a parable involving rabbits, bears and cheetahs. The playwright tells the audience that the show ‘will only continue with their cooperation’ (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017b, p. 9). From the outset, Soleimanpour is explicit in stating that the audience share in the responsibility for the outcome of the performance, applying gentle, good-natured pressure to them to comply.

The vulnerability of the unprepared performer, alone with minimal set or props, is employed as a strategy to engender sympathy and encourage the audience to be supportive and assist in the participatory tasks. But the presence of the performer only serves to highlight the absence of the playwright who is speaking through them. Through the performer, Soleimanpour explains to the audience that due to his refusal to do military service, his passport has been taken from him, and he therefore is unable to travel. ‘I’m not free. Not enough to travel’ (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017b, p. 20). It is this infringement on his liberties that has provided the impetus to write a play that can travel on his behalf: ‘it tastes like freedom to know that there are OTHER people in one’s play and it tastes like FREEDOM to be able to travel to OTHER worlds through my words’ (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017b, p. 21). While the first scripted appeal to the audience to participate may have been to show support for the vulnerable actor, here the implicit suggestion is that by engaging with the work the audience are demonstrating solidarity with the writer whose freedom has been stripped from him. Soleimanpour utilises the conditions of his absence for dramatic potential, and the reality of his personal situation frames his desire to interact with the audience.

The use of a proxy-performer and the requested contributions from different audience members are not simply pragmatic responses to the limitations presented by Soleimanpour’s enforced absence, however. Rather, these devices allow for a practical demonstration and interrogation of the ideas explored in Soleimanpour’s storytelling. In a playful dramaturgical structure, Rabbit, weaves autobiographical details about Soleimanpour and his family’s life in Iran with, what initially appear to be absurdist animal allegories, to explore the idea of obedience – both in theatre and to societal conventions. The work questions the power of historical messaging, edicts from the past, to shape actions in the future. While, therefore, the audience’s willingness to participate may have initially felt like honouring the rules of play, forming an alliance with the playwright who seeks to find freedom in his writing, as the performance progresses this position is interrogated, in light of allegories which draw attention to complicity and unsettling consequences of groupthink. ‘I actually made someone make you do something’, Soleimanpour exclaims from the page as he reflects upon the ways in which control can be wielded (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017b, p. 25). As in Crouch’s work, there is a synergy between the thematic concerns of the play and the formal participatory devices employed.

While Soleimanpour emphasises the need for co-operation from both performer and audience from the beginning, thus explicitly stating that responsibility for the performance is shared, the capacity for them to do so is made possible by clearly expressed instructions provided in the text. Soleimanpour has discussed how he often draws upon his experience as an engineer when crafting a play, considering in advance how to account for different outcomes (Sulamin, Reference Sulamin2016). Indeed, certain sections, particularly those where the performer is tasked with managing interaction with multiple audience members, read like a step-by-step instruction manual. These directions are tempered with compliments and words of thanks and encouragement, scripted with a teasing knowingness, ‘WONDERFUL! Although I didn’t see it. But – it was WONDERFUL’ (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017b, p. 45). We see evidence, therefore, of the ‘anticipation’ that Hepplewhite describes as so central to a facilitation practice. Indeed, to return again to the etymology of ‘facilitate’ as ‘to make easy’, the text demonstrates Soleimanpour’s efforts to do as much as he can to make things logistically simple for the performer – and audience – in relatively, unusual and uncertain theatrical circumstances.

However, Hepplewhite argues that the facilitator’s ‘anticipation’ needs to be coupled with a capacity to adapt (Hepplewhite, Reference Hepplewhite2020, p. 5). I suggest in Section 1, that the performers’ ability to be adaptable in a participatory performance can be enhanced through collaboration and discussion with the playwright. No such approach is possible in this model. In a series of instructions, delivered to the actor forty-eight hours before the show, Soleimanpour tells the performer, ‘you might think you want to add something. If so, that’s fine. But tell the audience it’s yours’ (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017b, p. 1). Different performers will take up this invitation to add their own inflections to the script, to varying degrees. In the performance I saw, Tobias Menzies was calm and warm in his delivery, bemused and amused, yet he did not add his own ad-libs (Soleimanpour, Reference Sulamin2021). Conversely, critic Alexis Soloski describes how Nathan Lane added frequent asides and reflections, telling the audience he would raise an open hand when voicing his own additions to the text (Soloski, Reference Sulamin2016). While, therefore, Soleimanpour has crafted a robust framework, a carefully plotted experiment for the actor and audience, there is elasticity within that for it to be moulded in different ways. One consequence of this will be, the affect, will vary each time. If, in the production I saw, Menzies’ delivery of the text could be characterised as friendly, at ease, taken with a light touch, Soloski details how Lane was at times in conflict with Soleimanpour’s words, voicing his disdain for audience participation (Soloski, Reference Sulamin2016). This is all an intended part of Soleimanpour’s experiment; both the participatory strategies and the thematic content of the play reveal his interest in the extent to which each performer, and audience, that encounter his words will inflect it in different ways.

While Rabbit does not shy away from using audience participation as a means to explore dark, unsettling subject matter, ultimately, this is a work that Soleimanpour wrote in an attempt to forge connection. The invitation for participation and desire to establish relations with the audience extend beyond the parameters of the performance. Through the proxy-performer Soleimanpour gives out his email address, asking the audience to get in touch. The playwright has described how after each performance, he would wake up to emails from audience members from all around the world, sharing their stories with him (Sulamin, Reference Sulamin2016). It was this experience that inspired his play BLANK, a ‘collaborative writing’ performance in which he invites the audience to collectively create a story by filling in the ‘blanks’ in the written structure he has crafted.

The volume of letters received by Soleimanpour is a testament to how Rabbit, and the personal narrative the playwright shared with his audiences, served as a source of inspiration, compelling individuals to reach out and share something of themselves in a similar way. The invitation to establish a dialogue with the writer after the show can be understood as an ongoing, processual form of participation. In Section 1, I explore Hepplewhite’s notion of ‘responsivity’ as a key tenet of a meaningful and creatively rewarding participatory experience. Soleimanpour may not have been able to exhibit responsivity in the development phases of the play, with the performers and creative team, or with his audience members during the live performance, yet by inviting post-show dialogue with the audiences, the opportunity for a reciprocal, responsive relationship comes after the event. Soleimanpour promises to reply to emails, and he describes developing friendships as a result of correspondence established with Rabbit audience members. BLANK, then, can be understood as a responsive work and demonstrates Soleimanpour’s desire for ongoing co-creation with his audience members. The fact that the play is explicitly inspired by communication from audience members, and is a model designed to facilitate further co-creation, allows for a broader understanding of what audience participation can mean. In this instance, it is not limited to the relational experience within the fixed temporal/spatial conditions of one performance, but across the artist’s body of work. This approach also has parallels with the ways in which applied theatre facilitators work: revisiting and working with their participants over a long period of time, so the creative programme is shaped by all participants in an iterative process.

BLANK also makes use of the ‘cold read’ device and is performed each time by a different actor who has not seen the script before but receives a set of instructions (very similar to those provided in advance of Rabbit) forty-eight hours before the performance (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017a). The performer reads out the script, as instructed, filling in ‘blanks’ Soleimanpour has crafted with answers about themselves. The blanks largely invite biographical details such as where the performer is from, what their parents did and what their favourite food is. Once the performer has introduced themselves, the play moves through a number of different devices which invite the audience to co-author as they collectively fill in the blanks. Firstly, they are invited to build a picture of the ‘imaginary playwright’ who is giving these instructions to them. Later, a member of the audience comes on stage to become the Character of the play, offering details about themselves to fill in the ‘blanks’ of their past. The audience then are invited, one by one, to fill in the blanks and collectively author this Character’s future. The devices the audience are guided through, developing a character, exploring their past, present, and future, and eventually introducing a second character for them to interact with, are reminiscent of exercises one might undertake in a playwriting workshop. Although, crucially, here these are all undertaken as a collective, rather than individually. While Soleimanpour demonstrates the responsibility he has undertaken to construct a mechanism with all the required components to generate the basics of a story, it is ultimately a bare bones structure that is provided. It is the audience – guided by the performer – who are tasked with fleshing the story out, to provide colour, depth, and meaning. Whereas in Rabbit, Soleimanpour offered imaginative allegories and personal narrative for the audience to engage with and respond to, in BLANK, there is minimal content provided; in this model, greater authorial responsibility lies with the audience. It was Soleimanpour’s intention to minimise his own presence in the work; the emails he received in response to Rabbit convinced him that his audience members are able to tell greater stories than anything he could create (Soleimanpour, Reference Soleimanpour2017a, pp. 155–158). However, it was Soleimanpour’s storytelling in Rabbit, that inspired and motivated the many audience members who contacted him to share their experiences. Relatedly, in Rabbit, the reason why Soleimanpour is asking the audience to participate and assist the actor with the performance is outlined clearly from the beginning. In BLANK, the playwright’s direct communication comes towards the end of the play, after the audience have already engaged in the act of co-authoring the story of the Character. In a letter delivered via the proxy-performer, Soleimanpour introduces himself, explains his experience with Rabbit and the stories that he received in response:

This direct address to the audience clearly sets out the playwright’s rationale for wanting to position them as co-authors, whilst also demonstrating the qualities of human stories that make them compelling: irony, tragedy, surprise. I wonder if positioning this earlier in the performance might have further supported the audience in the act of co-authoring. It is a persuasive and moving account of how BLANK came to be and could offer the audience a clearer sense of why Soleimanpour is interested in handing over authorial responsibility. While both Rabbit and BLANK provide innovative examples of text-led interactive devices, as an audience member, it was the former which I felt offered the more artistically satisfying participatory experience. I have described how in Rabbit form and content are mutually reinforcing. The ideas explored in the play cohere with the types of formal strategies employed. The synergy between thematic concerns of the plays and the co-creating devices helps frame the rationale for why the audience are being asked to interact, and means that acts of participation feel embedded in, and consistent with the dramaturgy. In both works, Soleimanpour utilises the condition of his absence towards artistic experimentation. Notably, however, in Rabbit, he is a more substantial textual presence in the work. His personal story, details about his family, and his direct address to the audience are foregrounded from the opening of the play, and the audience are invited to establish a relationship with him, which forms part of the impetus to participate. An interesting point this raises, that I will revisit in Section 3, is whether making space for the audience as co-authors necessitates reducing the ‘space’ or visibility of the playwright? Or, as in the case of Rabbit, can centring the playwright–audience relationship actually make acts of participation more inviting and artistically justified?

2.4 Hannah Jane Walker and Chris Thorpe: Performing Care

Hannah Jane Walker and Chris Thorpe collaborated with one another to create The Oh Fuck Moment and I Wish I Was Lonely, which they describe as ‘part performance, part poetry gig and part interactive experience’ (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, p. 3). Their work blends poetic and vivid text with carefully structured interactive devices as a means to address core questions about what it is to be human and engender interpersonal relations amongst the audience. Text is central in these works, as the witty, descriptive poems introduce the key thematic concepts of the performance, and the autobiographical anecdotes they share invite a personal relationship between the audience members and the performers. These are works which, thematically and through their participatory form, directly explore different facets of human connection, and Walker and Thorpe utilise the relational conditions of the theatre experience to enhance this discussion. The Oh Fuck Moment proposes that there is nothing more human than to error, and we are never more connected to one another than when making an irreversible mistake. The interactive strategies allow Walker and Thorpe to explore this proposition in practice through the carefully managed invitation for audience members to share their ‘biggest fuck ups’. I Wish I was Lonely suggests that the immediacy of communication afforded by mobile phones denies people the space to feel fully alone and truly miss their loved ones – that absence is essential to appreciate what we value. As a counterpoint to disembodied, digitalised texting, the play makes space for human-to-human interaction in shared time and space: one-to-one conversation, extended eye contact. As with the examples I have discussed by Crouch and Soleimanpour, in these works, the decision to employ participatory strategies feels dramaturgically coherent; the ideas the theatre-makers want to explore, and the interactive techniques they employ to do so, are analogous. Beyond the decision to draw attention to the relational conditions inherent to the performance event, I suggest that Walker and Thorpe have clearly considered the quality of relation they would like to cultivate between themselves and the audience, as well as the audience-to-audience connection they hope to facilitate in these works.

In The Oh Fuck Moment, Walker and Thorpe craft interactions that shape a social dynamic which then underpins their invitations to the audience to contribute creatively. Set in an in-use office, the performance begins with Thorpe meeting the audience outside the room, assuring them, ‘don’t worry. I’m not acting. We haven’t started yet’, before inviting them into the room to get a cup of tea, where they are greeted by Walker (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, p. 13). This interaction, although presented as ‘pre-performance’, is scripted and prepared for with careful consideration to put the audience at ease, providing an opportunity to interact with the performers outside of the central theatrical framework. Following this opening, Walker and Thorpe sit around a table with the audience and, taking alternate lines, deliver a poem comprising of concise but affecting ‘oh fuck moments’ (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, p. 14). Walker then delivers a more detailed story from personal experience. The story is told in an engaging way, with amusing reflections and details about the office she used to work in and the dynamic between colleagues to paint a relatable anecdote for the audience. She reveals her own ‘oh fuck moment’ in which an unkind email she wrote about a colleague goes to the subject of that email rather than the intended recipient. Following the story Thorpe interjects, ‘that is the definition of the oh fuck moment’ (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, p. 17).

The combined strategies of a relaxed welcome, invitation to have a cup of tea, a space that communicates collaborative working, followed by an entertaining poetic interlude, are designed to carefully work together to put the audience at ease. Following this, Walker directly tells the audience that ‘we are going to ask you to write something down. We might ask you to read something out’ but assures them ‘it’s not going to be anything more strenuous than that’ and that if they do not want to do anything, ‘that isn’t a problem’ (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, pp. 17–18). This direct explanation to the audience is strategically positioned to come after the initial ‘warm up’ phase, in which relations are established, and the theme and mood of the piece are introduced, but early enough in the process that the audience members are clear about what might be asked of them. Walker and Thorpe are true to their word, the lines are performed with sincerity, and their assurances are upheld as the performance progresses. At each point that a specific audience member is asked to do something, either Thorpe or Walker will clarify, ‘are you ok with doing that?’, the script details that they will not progress without the audience member’s consent (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, p. 20). If an audience member declines, the performers swiftly accept this choice – no further attempts to persuade are made – and ask if someone else would be willing to oblige instead. This gentle approach is a considered counterpoint to calls for participation that put one person on the spot, apply pressure or even coerce them into acquiescing. Walker and Thorpe demonstrate the ‘respect and regard’ Thompson describes as paramount when developing a care-centred approach to art-making (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020).

The audience are invited to write down their own ‘oh fuck moments’ on the post-it provided. Attention is drawn to the act of interpretive participation, as audience members are given space to reflect, before making their ideas material by writing, and later, should they choose to, through verbalising. Thorpe tells the audience members that he will put a song on while they write, a technique often used in participatory workshops to alleviate any awkwardness that might arise from silence. He invites the audience to use it as an opportunity to get to know one another (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, p. 19). The script describes how the two performers will make a cup of tea, giving audience members space to partake in the task, unless anyone is struggling, in which case they will talk to them quietly. This demonstrates that they will adapt to the needs of the individuals in the performance; responsivity is embedded into the performance text. Each of these gestures evidences the fact that Walker and Thorpe have thought about how audience members might feel and considered how they can craft an atmosphere which will make participation feel inviting and accessible. Here, then, comfort and assurance is not deleterious to a stimulating artistic experience but offers the necessary social lubrication to ensure the participatory model flows with ease.

A question I will refer back to throughout this Element is, how much does an audience member need to contribute in a performance to recognise themselves as a co-creator? While in The Oh Fuck Moment the gaps written in the playtext for the audience to fill may themselves not seem particularly large, what is revealed in performance is that there is space for them to expand should the audience wish to take up the space. In my experience of watching the show, a conversation ensued between audience members at the point in which we were asked to write our own ‘fuck ups’ – a convivial exchange and laughter about how readily examples came to mind (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2012). In this instance, the audience-to-audience relation was at the forefront of the performance, and the dialogue we engaged in not only became part of the aesthetic material of the piece but also demonstrated how the audience were shaping one another’s written contributions. At a later juncture, four audience members are elected to offer their ‘oh fuck moments’ as the rest of the audience vote on which one they thought was worst. The performers do not rush these interactions but allow the conversation to go on should the audience wish it to. What these moments evidence is the capacity for the structure to expand and contain a lengthier contribution from audience members should they offer it. It also reveals that a small written contribution from the audience, concise enough for each person to express on a post-it note, can give rise to a more in-depth reflection between audience members. Furthermore, the process of conversing with one another about different mistakes they have made also demonstrates in practice a key thematic argument of the piece, ‘that you are never more connected than when you fuck up’, sharing our mistakes can actually be a means to build relationships (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, p. 37). While in the written playtext the spaces for audience co-authorship may feel small in proportion to the scripted contributions from Walker and Thorpe, the design of the dramaturgy is such that those gaps can be expanded upon, and this expansion is nurtured and encouraged by the performers. I propose that the extent to which an audience member experiences themselves as a co-creator of performance, is less contingent on the size of the contribution they make, and is more reflective of how they perceived their contribution as being treated and utilised (or not) in the performance. Walker and Thorpe perform care to the audience, but also demonstrate that they value and are invested in, the contributions they make in the performance. Thompson argues that in performances that invite opportunities for dialogue and reciprocity, there is an ‘aesthetic built in the sensations stimulated in the particular moment’ (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020, p. 46). When met with care, smaller interactions can become magnified; the sensory quality of the interpersonal relations engendered in these moments enhances the experience and the perception of how much one has contributed. As well as having the scope to accommodate any extended contributions from audience members, Walker and Thorpe can adapt the work to account for minimal participation, or even a refusal to engage. If an audience member declines to participate in the manner invited, the performers will move on to find someone who will. The work has been crafted in such a manner that it would not simply collapse if no audience members accepted the offer to engage. Thorpe has discussed how, while he is keen to collaborate with his audiences, ‘the success or failure of the show is never their responsibility, it’s mine.’ (Gardner, Reference Gardner2015). Given that a recurring theme in this Element is that in a participatory work, creative responsibility is shared between artists and audiences, Thorpe raises an important point. While co-creation may be desired, ultimate responsibility for the success of the show lies with the theatre-makers, which is why Hepplewhite’s values of anticipation and adaptation are so crucial. Have the creators carefully anticipated a variety of outcomes? Have the creative team considered how to adapt the performance accordingly in such circumstances? To refer once again to the discussion in Section 1, it is for this reason that working collaboratively in the rehearsal phases can support the development of successful participatory strategies.

The ease with which Walker and Thorpe are able to establish a friendly, dialogic relationship with the audience is underpinned by their relationship with one another. In The Oh Fuck Moment and I Wish I Was Lonely, both are co-writers and co-performers. Like Crouch, these are playwrights who, in addition to crafting participatory strategies, also take responsibility for their execution in performance. Walker acknowledges that the two bring complementary skills to the creative process. ‘Chris is highly skilled, he is gruff and so charming with an audience, he has this kind of confidence and swagger … and the audience love to watch it. I have a background in Arts Education and my strength is engaging with an audience through participation and activity’ (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2021).

It is evident that their corresponding skills contributed to the development of The Oh Fuck Moment’s engaging performance structure. Walker identifies Thorpe’s charismatic performance, which would inspire and engage the audience. Her own experience in Arts Education meant that she was particularly attuned to an audience dynamic and adept at crafting invitations to interact as well as responding to the audience’s needs in the moment. I discuss in Section 1, that a collaborative creative process may be beneficial for the playwright developing a participatory work, given the intended sociality of the final performance. While Soleimanpour demonstrates this need not always be the case, the dialogue and exchange that clearly characterised how Walker and Thorpe created these works is evident in the performances, both their easy and friendly rapport with one another, and how their differing personal viewpoints and experiences of the themes explored are woven throughout the plays.

In both The Oh Fuck Moment and I Wish I Was Lonely Walker and Thorpe embed autobiographical content, consequently they are present as writers, performers, and subject matter of the plays. The use of personal stories can be understood as a means to disarm the audience and, within the relatively limited temporal parameters of the play, establish a relationship and even intimacy. Indeed, the autobiographical content shared by both performers, in both works, ranges from the more light-hearted and amusing, Walker’s office mishap, to the poignant, Thorpe missing his father’s final moments. Similarly to Soleimanpour in White Rabbit, Red Rabbit, the performers reveal something of themselves and their lived vulnerabilities as a considered strategy for developing a connection with the audience.

It is worth noting that in addition to sharing personal details about themselves, Walker and Thorpe invite the audience to do so also, in the form of discussing their ‘fuck ups’ in The Oh Fuck Moment, and their relationship with their phones in I Wish I Was Lonely. This is a different quality of participation to invitations for the audience to contribute to the storytelling of a play or to add details to a dramatic narrative. Walker and Thorpe have made the choice to include autobiographical content, they have rehearsed in advance, applying their own boundaries as to what they are happy to share. Audience members do not enter into the performance with the same level of preparedness. For the creator of a participatory performance who invites audience members to share personal details, in contrast to responding to a fictional framework, I would suggest there is a greater degree of care and sensitivity called for. There is a risk, for example, of audience members feeling they need to overshare, in the moment, later regretting this decision and feeling exposed. In her analysis of The Oh Fuck Moment, Astrid Breel discusses the ethical complexities at play, and the steps Walker and Thorpe took to mitigate against causing any discomfort or pressure (Breel, Reference Breel2015). The request that audience members write down their ‘oh fuck moment’ is designed to give each person time to consider carefully what they are comfortable revealing, rather than verbalising on the spot. Relatedly, the show opens with the example of Walker’s more light-hearted ‘fuck up’ as a model to the audience as to what they might share. Thorpe’s account of missing his father’s death comes after the audience share their own fuck up, as the makers did not want them to feel pressured to share something of similar emotional gravity (Breel, Reference Breel2015). These decisions reflect the fact that Walker and Thorpe are attuned to their duty of care towards their audience members. In less considerate hands, invitations to divulge personal material within a performance could be experienced as exploitative. I have discussed the importance of dramaturgical coherence to offer a more artistically rewarding participatory experience; however, on a more serious note, there is also the need to manage relational dynamics to alleviate the risk of causing upset or harm to audience members. As I discuss in Section 1, the two points of concern, artistic experience and interpersonal wellbeing, do not need to be viewed as separate, or even oppositional, but can be understood as reciprocally enforcing. Walker and Thorpe convey a series commitments that they make in the development process: they get consent from audience members, they don’t ask audience members to share or do anything that they don’t also do, they are explicit about how any creative contribution will be used, and nothing shared within a performance is repeated outside of that space (Breel, Reference Breel2015). This demonstrates that they have considered the quality of relationship they hope to establish with audience members and crafted a set of principles to respond to in the creative process to achieve that. In the Introduction, I argue that makers of participatory performance have an additional ‘aesthetic media’ in their creative toolbox, the point of view of the audience, and accordingly this may call for different skills to be deployed. Following Walker and Thorpe’s examples, we can see how developing a set of values to characterise and guide the type of relationship that is established with the audience is one such approach that can be implemented in the earliest stages of development.

2.5 Participatory Dramaturgies and Their Effects

I propose that all of the works discussed in this section adhere to Radosavljevic’s definition of ‘porous dramaturgy’. I have explored some of the commonalities across the range of performances, from clearly crafted instructions, coherence between participatory techniques and thematic content and employing rich, detailed text to offer compelling narratives that inspire the audience to engage. While overlapping features of these works can be identified, beyond their porosity, each of these playwrights produces different dramaturgies as a consequence of the participatory strategies they have created. Across his body of work, Crouch experiments with crafting performance models that draw attention to the singular process of active interpretation – or perhaps it is more fitting to say, activated interpretation – that each audience member will engage in during the relational conditions of the performance. Crouch has described this as a ‘dramaturgy of imagination’ and his plays demonstrate his interest in the imaginative and reflective possibilities afforded to the audience (Crouch, Reference Crouch2023). As Radosavljevic notes, these are performances which can yield more reward in the post-show reflection and analysis, which may, in part, be why Crouch’s works have been the subject of a substantial body of academic literature (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 154).

Soleimanpour’s use of ‘story-machine’ to describe BLANK encapsulates the parallels his works can be seen to have with gameplay. He offers a series of instructions which, combined with the core principle of always being performed by a new, ‘unprepared’ proxy-performer, ensure each performance will demonstrably be different from another. Arguably, more so than any of the other pieces explored in this section, BLANK and White Rabbit, Red Rabbit are the most likely to offer a significantly different experience for an audience member on multiple rewatches; Soleimanpour presents a dramaturgical model which can be ‘played’ again and again. In part, this is due to the scope for each proxy-performer to imbue the work with a different affectual quality. Emotion and feeling are not qualities that Soleimanpour stipulates in his instructions for play, and consequently, the affectual tone and spirit in which the audience participation is managed may vary significantly depending on who is performing.

By contrast, I have argued that Walker and Thorpe embed carefully crafted interactions and ethical principles, alongside practiced gestures of warmth and reassurance to suggest a specific affectual quality, one that will promote ease, reassurance, and familiarity. While all of the works considered in this section are interested in drawing attention to the relational, I would argue that Walker and Thorpe are consciously seeking to facilitate a dramaturgy of connection, akin to a therapeutic experience. This is explicit in the themes they explore, each addressing ‘the difficult but often uplifting moments we all face in the process of living’ (Walker & Thorpe, Reference Walker and Thorpe2013, p. 1). In the performers’ adept handling of interactive techniques to explore a breadth of relatable human experiences, there is scope for audience members to experience moments of connection with one another, found in sharing both absurd and light-hearted anecdotes and more moving and profound observations.

3.1 Relationality in Theory and Practice

In this section, I will reflect upon my own experiences of crafting and sharing a text-led participatory performance. ‘Being with Raven’, is a play designed to be co-authored with audiences, and emerged out of practice-based research I undertook to investigate how the playwright could craft a textual framework to facilitate audience participation in performance. Following a period of collaborative development with director, Eve Nicol and performers Alison Peebles, Julie Wilson Nimmo, Nalini Chetty, Rosalind Sydney, and Sita Pieraccini the play was shared with an invited audience over two performances at the James Arnott Theatre, Glasgow in 2021.

In addition to my interest in situating the playwright centrally in discourse on participatory performance practice, there was a wider political aim of this study. I wanted to explore how an experience of participation in performance may bring to consciousness what, following on from Jean-Luc Nancy I describe as ontological relationality. Drawing upon Nancy’s concept of ‘Being Singular Plural’, in which he proposes that ‘being is being-with’, it is only through relation to an other that one is able to formulate the singular I, I wanted to investigate how different modalities of participation can draw attention to the multiple relations at play within a performance structure and the fact that one’s singular experience is always constituted of, and informed by, those with whom we co-exist (Nancy, Reference Nancy2000, p. 30). His ideas on the self as an always uniquely singular, yet simultaneously always entangled relational subject supported the development of a participatory performance model which makes space for the individual audience member experience while also drawing attention to the fact that experience can only occur in, and through, relation. For Nancy, the shared condition of relationality forms the basis of an ethics which underpins a broader political imperative: ‘this is the meaning of the world as being-with, the simultaneity of all presences that are with regard to one another, where no one is for oneself without being for others’ (Nancy, Reference Nancy2000, p. 84). There are resonances between what Christopher Watkins describes as Nancy’s ‘ethics of mutuality’ and Judith Butler’s work on interdependency (Watkins, Reference White2007, p. 61). Butler writes that recognising and avowing the relational subject and the inescapable interdependency of all life is a necessary basis for social and political equality (Butler, Reference Butler2020). I was interested in how the relational conditions of the performance, coupled with co-creating and a collective world-making, may facilitate a space in which awareness of self as relational could be made explicit and felt. It was my contention that a participatory performance model can offer a site in which new political imaginaries, which centre the always-already relational subject, can be experienced on both cognitive and embodied levels.

The work of Nancy and Butler provided a theoretical impetus for exploring modalities of audience co-creation in performance however, it was through engaging with care ethics that I came to understand how these theories of relationality might be explored in practice. Like Butler, care ethicists seek to challenge political narratives that emphasise individualism and self-sufficiency. They argue that it is through relations of care that foreground the reciprocity inherent in the experience of caring and being cared for, where we can, in Virginia Held’s words, ‘cultivate mutuality in the interdependencies of personal, political, economic, and global contexts’ (Held, Reference Held2006, p. 53). Care ethicists are concerned with the practical application of care in a variety of contexts, and it is through the mutual and experiential process of caring that one may come to fully understand the values that underpin the ethics. Marian Barnes argues ‘care can generate dialogic processes that develop relational capacities among both care giver and receiver. We develop our capacity to care through the practice of care with others’ (Barnes, Reference Barnes2012, p. 24).

As I explore in Section 1, scholars of Theatre and Performance Studies have noted synergies between the practice of care and the aims of socially engaged and community theatre projects. James Thompson’s ‘aesthetics of care’ is concerned with how attention to the craft of relations in participatory arts projects can result in a model in which art-making is simultaneously care-taking. An aesthetics of care is particularly focused on ‘how the sensory and affective are realised in human relations fostered in art projects’ (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020, p. 43). In my exploration of emotional and embodied aspects of participation in performance, I draw upon the work of Sara Ahmed. She offers a conceptualisation of emotions that also emphasises the relational. Looking at how emotions emerge and move through a collective, she suggests, might show us how all ‘actions are reactions, in the sense that what we do is shaped by the contact we have with others’ (Ahmed, Reference Ahmed2004, p. 4). Ahmed’s theorisation calls for us to pay attention to the ‘with’: what occurs through contact with another; how this contact shapes us; the affectual quality of that contact; attention to the way sensations move and morph amongst the collective. We can apply this understanding of emotions to the practice of care, which requires awareness of the sensory and embodied aspects of the relational experience and, as such, conceives of an affectual reciprocity at play in the caring encounter. To encapsulate the emotional effect of objects and beings coming into contact with one another and, in so doing, impacting one another, Ahmed suggests it is useful to think of ‘making impressions’. She writes, ‘we need to remember the press in impression. It allows us to associate the experience of having an emotion with the very affect of one surface upon another, an affect that leaves its mark or trace’ (Ahmed, Reference Ahmed2004, p. 6). I return to the idea of ‘making impressions’ later when I consider the role that the playwright, or creator, of a participatory work can have in consciously cultivating the affectual tenor of the performance.

I will detail how values of care and attention to affect can serve as a guiding framework through the process of creating and sharing a co-authored performance model that is designed to draw attention to the shared condition of relationality. I discuss how both aesthetic craft, making-with, and relations, being-with, can be shaped by caring principles in a way that mutually enhances the experience of both. I consider the interplay between craft and relations at different phases of the process when developing a participatory work. I describe how the playwright can demonstrate care for the craft of writing as a way to relate to the audience and enhance their engagement with the work. I consider how the crafted framework for audience participation in performance, what Gareth White terms ‘procedural authorship’, can be designed to perform care towards the audience as a strategy to encourage them to accept the invitation to interact, and to characterise that relationship if the invitation is accepted. Finally, I consider how some of the more logistical elements of developing a participatory work can become part of the aesthetic and generate feelings and sensations that inform the spirit in which collaborators approach the artistic material and subsequently the affect of the performance experience itself.

3.2 Writing ‘Being with Raven’: Care for the Craft

‘Being with Raven’ follows four women living alongside one another, separate but together, in a block of tenement flats. Each of the women is distinct and absorbed in their own world and own story, but through the eyes of Raven, who observes them, the audience are offered the viewpoint that their lives are much more entangled than might first appear. As the play progresses, the audience both bear witness to the women’s stories becoming more interwoven and contribute to the making of these interlacing strands. I was attuned to how I could use text to build characters that the audience might come to care about, but also to carefully embed the strategies towards participation seamlessly into their narratives and the world they shared. As I developed the characters, I decided that each of them would interact with the audience in a different way, and it was important that the mode of interaction befits the story they share with us. In this way, form and content enrich one another. The first character we meet, Beth, tells us she is ‘a natural performer’ and that it is ‘wonderful to have a full house’, yet we soon come to understand that she is lonely and disconnected from her family (Shutt, Reference Shutt2023, p. 172). Living alone she is filled with the memories of family and friends that are no longer part of her life. I explore positioning the audience as characters in this narrative strand. I was interested in how, through lighting and gestures from the performer playing Beth, an audience member can be positioned to represent a character and how this may contribute to a heightened awareness of one another in the performance space. The audience members are not asked to speak as the characters, which supports the idea that Beth is alone and effectively talking to herself, playing out memories in her head. Pre-set chairs are gently lit from below to indicate the different family members. I specify in the stage directions that the position of each character’s light is pre-set so that the ‘casting’ of the audience member as the family member would be demonstrably random. I did not want any suggestion that the performer playing Beth was choosing the audience member to be a family member based on how they presented. Indeed, I welcomed the eventuality that there may be some disconnect between the audience member and the character they were representing. This technique is inspired by the device employed by Tim Crouch in My Arm, discussed in Section 2, whereby objects provided by the audience represent characters in the work (Crouch, Reference Crouch2011). In this instance it is the audience members themselves, rather than their objects, which stand in as characters. As with Crouch’s device, I would suggest this draws attention to the internalised form of participation each audience member will undertake. Simultaneously, however, this is also an act of externalised participation as an audience member is cast as the physical representation of a character and therefore transformed into aesthetic material within the scene. The intention is that this strategy draws attention to how each person audience member is playing a role in building ‘Beth’s world’ while at the same time allowing space for their unique imaginative engagement with her story. This mode of interaction also links to the character’s narrative. Although alone in her flat, Beth is haunted by memories. She ‘taunts herself’ with ‘regrets and recriminations’, re-playing conversations or giving voice to feelings towards others that in ‘real life’ were left unsaid (Shutt, Reference Shutt2023, p. 200).

With the character Daisy, I explore an externalised form of participation by inviting the audience to engage with physical objects in the space. I began with the idea of a precious box full of meaningful items she had gathered over the years, exploring how objects might represent key moments or relationships in life which inform a sense of self. Despite having suffered hardship in her early life, Daisy has found an inner peace, taking pleasure in the small details found in ordinary objects and habitual interactions that infuse her day with joy. This allows me to facilitate the externalised mode of co-authoring through participation, as audience members are invited to engage with the different boxes that Daisy has gathered. There is a tactile and sensory mode of engaging with the work as they are invited to look through the assorted items. The unspoken imperative here is for audience members to imagine what it might have been about the items that made an impression on Daisy and moved her to keep them. In this way, the two modes of participation inform one another, as the physical engagement with an object in the space calls for individualised meaning-making at the same time. Further, this device intersects with the aim of making explicit an experience of ‘being singular plural’ – each audience member has a different box placed beneath their chair, so while they share in the same participatory act of engaging with objects in relation to one another, they each have their own items to respond to and interpret (Shutt, Reference Shutt2023).

In Section 2, I explore the different ways in which the playwright may figure in a participatory performance, the presence of the playwright as performer in works by Crouch and Thorpe and Walker, for example, or the use of autobiographical details in Soleimanpour’s plays. In ‘Being with Raven’, I, the playwright, do not feature, literally or textually, however, I did create Anna, a writer, as the character who invites the most overt acts of participation with the audience. When developing her I focused on her approach to writing, how writing makes her feel and how her identity as a writer informs how she sees the world, imagining the stories behind each person she encounters and in turn encouraging the audience to do the same. I explored how Anna is writing – with the audience, and that the ‘with’ might be more readily experienced if all audience members are invited to look at the same source of inspiration as her. I developed Colette, the woman Anna sees in the window and asks the audience to imagine what her story might be. Provided with a notebook and pen, the audience are given time to look at Colette and write down their responses to prompts that Anna offers. Here, the internalised mode of participation is made more tangible and embodied as audience members are given the space to commit their ideas to paper, bringing consciousness to the act of participation through interpretation. Following this period of individualised reflection and writing, Anna then invites the audience members to share some of their answers and to hear from one another. Even for those who choose not to share their ideas, my intention is that hearing fellow audience members offering their suggestions may serve to heighten awareness of the relational. Indeed, with this device, there is also the capacity to experience how offerings from other audience members can then inflect how one goes on to read and experience the rest of the play (Shutt, Reference Shutt2023).

Anna and Colette’s intertwining strands do not exist in isolation from Beth and Daisy’s narratives. The shape and details of Beth and Daisy’s stories also informed the types of questions and observations that Anna invites from the audience about Colette. I structured the work so that the audience have spent time with Beth and Daisy, two characters who share much of themselves, before being invited to look at Colette, ‘the blank canvas’ and begin to colour in the details of her life. The experience of engaging with Beth and Daisy may offer inspiration for the audience as they develop their own story for Colette. In this way I explore how, as a playwright, I can guide and support the audience in co-authoring ‘from the page’ – through the structuring of the narrative, and character development, rather than needing to be a direct voice and presence in performance offering instruction. Although ostensibly undertaken alone, relationality was at the core of this writing process as I was thinking about how an audience member might relate to a character, but also how that particular character engages with the audience and invites them to contribute to the performance. Here, the craft of playwriting and performing care become intertwined; the skills of the playwright are employed to develop a character, and the principles of care inform how that character might engage with audience members and develop a relationship with them in performance.

In addition to using playwriting craft to build characters that audience members might feel motivated to interact with I also considered how the style of language could be used to inspire audience members to contribute creatively. At the beginning of my research enquiry, I was hesitant to offer too much textual detail, equating sparseness on the page with space for the audience to then fill in and contribute. Through the process of analysing the works of other playwrights who employ participatory techniques, I began to understand that making space for the audience to contribute creatively does not necessitate reducing the visibility of the craft of the playwright. Writers such as Walker and Thorpe embed vivid and expressive text as a means of engaging the audience and modelling how they may participate themselves. In ‘Being with Raven’, therefore, I experimented with how a playwright might demonstrate the particular characteristics of their craft to suggest to the audience co-authors how they could contribute. The language used is poetic, colourful, and lyrical. There are examples of alliteration, word-play, and rhyme. What this may reveal to the audience is the pleasure that can be found experimenting with words and the ways they can be artfully used to suggest a world and a character. I was mindful of the fact that being asked to respond to a character and offer details about their life may not be something that an audience member has spent time doing before. As the playwright, one way in which I can make this invitation seem more accessible is to demonstrate having fun with crafting words, which, in turn, might not only help to draw an evocative world for the audience to feel engaged with, but also inspire them to interact playfully with language themselves. At one point Raven tells the audience to notice that:

RAVEN:

The lichen on the wall has spread out and up, a thriving yellow blaze upon the red brick

The flickering neon sign in the café below has lost its c, coffee has become offee

The advertisements at the bus stop have changed, from bargain breakfast burger to hassle-free home insurance (Shutt, Reference Shutt2023, p. 196)

Raven invites the audience to see these small shifts and changes in the world of the play in their mind’s eye, activating participation through interpretation. My intention was that by using a more heightened and overtly crafted form of language, the words may make an impression upon the audience which influences how they later choose to contribute to the work. Rather than being restrictive or limiting, a detailed and considered textual framework can actually spark ideas and expand the creative possibilities available to the audience participants. I came to understand this as demonstrating care for the craft of writing as a means towards facilitating audience participation; a practice of care which can be undertaken by the playwright from the outset, even in the more solitary stages of developing a text.

3.3 Procedural Authorship as Care

A significant aspect of preparing a participatory performance model is crafting the gaps in the structure for the audience to fill. There is a negotiation at play in this process as the creator of a participatory work needs to offer a robust enough framework that the audience members understand their role and feel engaged enough with the performance to want to accept the offer to contribute, yet simultaneously for that framework to be flexible enough to respond to the different offerings received from audience members in each performance. Gareth White argues that the quality of the audience contribution in participatory performance, and how the audience member will perceive the experience of contributing, is contingent on how the invitation is made to interact from the outset (White, Reference White2013, pp. 29–31). In this, he posits that the creator of an interactive performance becomes a ‘procedural author’. White borrows the term ‘procedural author’ from Jan Murray, who discusses the way participation is managed by computer game designers. Murray writes: ‘Procedural authorship means writing the rules by which the texts appear as well as writing the text themselves. It means writing the rules for the interactors’ involvement, that is, the conditions under which things will happen in response to the participant’s actions (emphasis mine)’ (Murray, Reference Murray1999, p. 152).

We might conceive of procedural authorship as thinking about the management and maintenance of the relationship between artists and audience in a participatory performance and, following on from White, how the management of that relationship is part of the aesthetic of a participatory work. Procedural authorship, then, is concerned with the intersection of relations and aesthetics in participatory performance. Both Murray and White highlight that a procedural author needs to craft a framework that is able to respond to the contributions made by participants. Relatedly, in Section 1, I detail how Hepplewhite identifies responsivity as being a core principle of an applied theatre practice. I suggest that it is a characteristic the creator of a participatory performance may seek to cultivate to offer a meaningful experience for audience members.

In crafting a framework for participation, the procedural author will, White proposes, need to make judgements about the resources which will be available to the participants on the day of performance, how prior knowledge of performance conventions will inform their understanding of how interaction may work, as well as the individual skills, knowledge, language, and understanding of social norms each of them may draw upon (White, Reference White2013, p. 48). This speaks to the requirement of the procedural author to both take responsibility for, and be attentive to, the expectations and experience that the audience member will bring to the performance. This resonates with Hepplewhite’s discussion on the need for the applied theatre artist to balance the qualities of anticipation and adaptation. In Section 2, I suggest we see these skills at play, particularly in the work of Walker and Thorpe who, in line with White’s proposition, clearly consider and prepare for, different levels of comfort, or familiarity, audience members may have with participatory conventions. While I am not proposing that procedural authorship is always caring, or performed with care, I would suggest that evaluating the model of procedural authorship against the values of care is one way in which the creator of a participatory work can inform and influence the experience of relationality within the performance. I would also suggest that procedural authorship can be consciously designed in a manner so that care is performed towards the audience, and the effect of this may result in them feeling more supported to contribute. Through the act of participation, the audience themselves can come to demonstrate care towards the narrative that they share in crafting. In this way, then, the act of caring comes full circle.

When an offer to interact is made by the procedural author, the audience participant will arrive at, what White terms, a ‘horizon of participation’ (White, Reference White2013, p. 48). This denotes the range of participatory possibilities that appear available to the participant from their position in the performance framework. This horizon will always vary from participant to participant, as each person will bring their own singular subjectivity and their own resources. Yet the horizon will also be informed by the parameters of the interaction that are suggested by the framework offered by the procedural author: ‘the procedural author can work to change the horizon, both as a limit, as they indicate that the invitation is open to more than previously understood, and in the sense of landscape, as they guide participants towards certain paths or terrain’ (White, Reference White2013, p. 59). Although in ‘Being with Raven’, there are multiple layers of participation, there is a core narrative strand where acts of co-authorship are facilitated through Anna, who leads the audience in a series of writing prompts in response to Colette. It was my intention that this central relationship would act as an anchor through the process of externalised participation. By having a recurring relationship with a character who grounds the audience in the ‘open terrain’ of the interactive performance and offers instruction on how they might navigate it, my intention was that the invitation to participate might be received as more accessible and readily understood. Further, I recognise that a familiar relationship with a central character, and an element of repetition in how they relate to the audience can afford a feeling of reassurance, trust, and security in the process. This device can be seen as an adaptation of Boal’s principle of the Joker: a consistent relationship with a performer/facilitator who guides the audience members through their participatory experience. I am augmenting this principle by proposing that this guide can also be embedded in the fiction and the playwright can develop characterisation which complements this supportive role.

I considered that some parameters on the ‘horizon of participation’ could actually enrich the process of creativity. Here, I was informed by what Radosavljevic and Crouch describe as a ‘dramaturgy of liberating constrictions’; when developing a new work, having a rule or fixed parameters to adhere to can be creatively liberating (Radosavljevic, Reference Radosavljevic2013, p. 156). Paradoxically, having structures to work within can invite more artistic freedom. In Section 2, I discuss how Crouch supports the audience of I, Cinna in writing a poem by providing accessible tasks to respond to in a focused timeframe. I considered this when setting the instructions for the audience in ‘Being with Raven’, recognising that offering clear prompts would provide a ‘way in’ to co-creation. Anna asks specific questions of the audience about Colette, such as ‘what was she like as a child?’, instead of, for example, a more open-ended invitation to ‘tell me her back story’ (Shutt, Reference Shutt2023, p. 182). Rather than being restrictive, following the logic of the ‘dramaturgy of liberating constrictions’, the parameters of the instruction are designed to provide a focus which then opens up the creative possibilities for the audience.

Similarly, the audience are invited to respond to something in the performance space. In addition to clear, overt instruction, my feeling was that having something physical in the space to respond to would also provide both focus and inspiration in a manner that would make the invitation to co-author seem more accessible. Further, asking the audience to respond to the same source explicitly addresses the conceptual areas of interest underpinning the project by, in the first instance, asking the audience how they relate to the same physical subject in the space, and then offering the opportunity to share their singular responses in relation to one another. I would suggest that clarity of instruction, designing a character to guide the audience, and offering a clear source of inspiration to relate to are features of procedural authorship that demonstrate an ‘aesthetics of care’. These strategies demonstrate that the creator of the participatory work is sensitive to the fact that invitations to create spontaneously could be intimidating and that they have taken responsibility for easing this process by providing objects and prompts to respond to.

In addition to clear instructions, I also considered how a framework of procedural authorship guided by the values of care can be attuned to the different comfort levels that audience members would have in participating and consequently sought to design a model which offers a variety of entry points of engagement. This resulted in the application of my own ‘dramaturgy of liberating constrictions’ when developing this work. A rule I adhered to in designing ‘Being with Raven’ was that no audience member would be put on the spot to speak out loud or share ideas if they did not want to. I would suggest that this rule served the dual purpose of demonstrating care for the audience and allowing exploration of the aesthetic aims of the work. In ‘Being with Raven’, not every audience member may speak out loud or share their ideas with others, yet by being explicitly invited to reflect internally, and then bearing witness to fellow audience members engaging in different degrees of participation through material contribution, they may still experience the heightened awareness of ‘being singular plural’. Audience members may come to recognise themselves as co-creators, even if they do not speak out loud or offer words that are embedded into the materiality of the performance text. Here, I would suggest that the principles of care and the aesthetic aims of the project become intertwined and inform one another. The principles of care foreground the need to be attuned to the different experiences of audience members and to sensitively offer different modalities of engagement; in turn, this drives the aesthetic impetus of the project to experience the multiple ways we can both participate and become aware of our relation to one another.

3.4 Affect and Procedural Authorship

Procedural authorship is not limited to writing instructions and crafting the strategies to participate. It also falls upon the procedural author to offer guidance to performers on the sensory and emotional quality with which the instructions are delivered. In a project which aims to deliver procedural authorship with care, crafting the bare bones of the instruction is not enough; it is important to be attuned to the affect of the delivery and how the emotional quality of the ask will impact the audience’s response and inclination to accept. On the page, Anna is portrayed as open, curious, and receptive to the audience’s ideas. She is eager to hear from them, and there should be no hint of embarrassment or apology from the performer when she asks for the audience to share their answers. Thinking of Ahmed’s ideas on the circularity of emotions, and how a feeling may move through the collective, I considered that if the ‘guide’ in the performance seems uncertain or negative about the task at hand, this affect may in turn be impressed upon the audience. Therefore, Anna is not forceful but delivers her request for the audience to contribute in a calm, supportive manner. Imbuing these instructions with a specific feeling and energy becomes a collaborative exercise between playwright and performer in the rehearsal process, and, in this way, procedural authorship is a shared endeavour between all creative collaborators. When developing ‘Being with Raven’, the director (Eve Nicol), the performer playing Anna (Nalini Chetty) and I each agreed that we felt it was important that the audience are put at ease, and the atmosphere cultivated is one of support and encouragement. Anna, as the primary guide in participation, should be attentive to who has and hasn’t spoken, there should be kindness in her delivery as she invites people to share their ideas. These discussions then shaped Chetty’s characterisation of Anna, informing choices she made about her performance style, including vocal delivery and body language.

The feelings of generosity and acceptance, while key in informing whether or not the invitation to interact is accepted in the first place by audience members, should be maintained and characterise the ongoing relationship between the performer/character and audience members. On the one hand, in ‘Being with Raven’, care is demonstrated by not forcing anyone to speak out loud, but a counterpoint feature of the dramaturgy is that all those audience members who do want to offer a contribution will be heard. In this way, the procedural authorship is crafted so that the gaps in the framework can expand to accommodate the offerings of anyone who wants to contribute. Here, I would suggest we witness the negotiation between the ‘fixed’ text and ‘open’ space for interaction to come into play. A focused and clear instruction in the framework, which in ‘Being with Raven’, for example, would be a specific question about Colette, may be followed by as many answers from different audience members who wish to contribute. The written framework is designed so it can expand to accommodate this, but simultaneously there are parameters in place which prevent the structure of the piece from collapsing. Collapse of the structure could be a possibility were the procedural authorship designed in a more loose and open-ended manner. A more general question, such as ‘What do you think of Colette?’ for example, could prompt long, unfocused answers from audience members and make it harder for the performer to adhere to the rule of allowing everyone to speak. Here, the parameters of the instruction actually work to accommodate a breadth of responses from audience members. This demonstrates care by offering space for all those who wish to share to be heard, enriching the materiality of the work. Aesthetically, this can result in the universe of the fiction expanding exponentially, opening up the potential to hear the many responses to be found from a singular prompt.

Responsivity has been a recurring theme in this Element, cited by Hepplewhite as a feature of a skilful applied theatre practice, it is one of Tronto’s ethical elements of care, and listed by Murray and White as crucial to procedural authorship. Being receptive to the contributions from audience members and ensuring they are all demonstrably heard was something I designed as a feature of ‘Being with Raven’; all contributions that audience members wish to share are heard and then repeated back by Anna. This was designed to demonstrate attentiveness, an affirmation from the performer that the audience’s contributions are valued that also underlines the insertion of their ideas into the body of the work. The stage directions read:

These guidelines of procedural authorship state that there is an equity in how the audience’s responses are received. Again, how this will be performed in practice will be prepared for through discussion between the playwright and performer. Together, they can plan how responses to the audience’s offerings can be delivered in a way that is positive and encouraging but simultaneously does not favour one audience member’s idea as better than another. The aim of this participatory model is not about the audience working together to find a ‘right’ answer or land on a unified reading but instead to draw attention to the multiple readings that might emerge in this relational situation, and to experience the different feelings that can arise in the shared conditions of the performance. Embedding these principles within the artistic process can enrich the creative material while making visible the principles of care in a manner that serves the artistry and the politics of the work. Again, this is a feature of Walker and Thorpe’s work, whereby gaining audience member’s consent, for example, is a scripted principle in the text. Key for the model of participation I crafted in ‘Being with Raven’, is that the contributions from audience members are treated with respect by the performers. In part, this will arise through the technique of allowing all contributions to be heard and the open and appreciative reception of them. I also demonstrate this respect for the audience’s contributions by taking them and embedding them into future moments in the play. At different junctures, the characters Raven, Anna, and Daisy, will take ideas that have been offered by the audience at earlier points in the play and weave them into text they deliver in a later scene. This strategy was crafted to demonstrate an additional level of care and attentiveness, revealing that not only the character who asked for audience contributions (Anna) has been listening to them, but that other performers/characters were making note of these ideas to then embed them into the body of the text (Shutt, Reference Shutt2023). This device signals to the audience that their contributions have been listened to and are valued as aesthetic content.

Again, this strategy of procedural authorship calls for collaboration and a mutual understanding between playwright and performer. While I, as playwright, can offer detailed instructions in the playtext, in the live conditions of the performance, the success of this strategy relies on the capacity of the performer to be responsive while listening to the offerings of the audience members. A further display of competency and skill is required as they embed these words into the text and deliver them as seamlessly as pre-rehearsed lines. This performance of care by the actor may be received as such by the audience and have the reciprocal effect of inspiring them to care more and feel more invested in the work. Furthermore, demonstrating that the audience’s ideas are treated with care and respect may motivate audience members who have previously been reticent to contribute to do so later on. In this way, there is a ripple effect of care as experiencing being ‘cared-for’ can then inspire audience members to ‘care-about’.

Following on from this, I return to the proposition I made in Section 2: whether or not the audience recognise themselves as participating co-creators is less about the size of the contribution made and is informed more by how they experience that contribution being responded to and treated. I would contend that the quality of care that any contribution made by an audience member is met with will impact upon how they perceive their role as co-authors of the framework as a whole. We can, following Ahmed, understand this as the performer, by consciously responding to the suggestion from the audience with appreciation and delight, making it visible and tangible as a material contribution. The performer’s emotional response to the offering underscores its value and affirms to the audience member that they have made their unique ‘impression’ upon the performance. Furthermore, following on from Barnes’s proposition that we ‘develop our capacity to care through the practice of care with others’, we might consider how recognising that the audience’s artistic contributions are being cared-for by the performers can reciprocally result in the audience members demonstrating care for both the fictional world of the narrative and to one another (Barnes, Reference Barnes2012, p. 24). In the performances of ‘Being with Raven’ there were instances of the audience members making reference to one another’s ideas, demonstrating listening and attentiveness to each other. In these moments, the audience can be recognised as co-carers as well as co-creators.

3.5 A Care-Centred Process

Having drawn attention to how playwriting craft and procedural authorship can be consciously designed to perform care towards the audience, I will now go on to explore how the playwright can work collaboratively with the creative team in the rehearsal process towards achieving this. While I have argued that care can be understood and practiced as a creative strategy to facilitate audience participation, the efficacy of this is contingent on caring values guiding the creative process from conception to completion. Care happens in relation; it cannot exist or thrive as a one-sided endeavour. A performance is made up of a network of relations, and consequently one cannot single out one relational thread to exhibit care if these values do not characterise the web of relations within which it is enmeshed. Much like the care-worker whose capacity to offer care to a patient or care receiver will be rapidly diminished or compromised if they are not cared for by their employer or the systems in which they work, then so too a performer needs that foundation of support from the playwright and creative team to then be in a position to perform care to an audience.

In Section 1, I detail Thompson’s proposal that the seemingly quotidian acts of planning the material conditions of a project, if delivered with care, instil it with affective sensibilities which both have an aesthetic and will influence the creative model itself. He argues this form of planning is not a ‘hidden mechanism of creative endeavour but a valued component of the aesthetics’ (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020, p. 45). His use of ‘hidden mechanism’ points to the fact that very often in creative projects, these elements of logistical planning such as sourcing a location, liaising with collaborators, communicating about fees, detailing the amenities available, and planning the timings for the day, will be viewed as a necessary part of the project but situated as distinct from the actual aesthetic component, or research, and therefore likely not acknowledged in any accompanying analysis. We might consider that this does two things. Firstly, it neglects to account for how these choices, and how they are communicated to a creative team and participants, have a tangible impact on how people feel about the work, how they perceive themselves as being valued, and therefore affect how they relate to one another and the artistic project. Secondly, to hide these essential parts of the creative process suggests they are not important or are not where the ‘real’ work happens. Yet these gestures of consideration and attentiveness to the needs of the singular beings who will be working beside one another play a crucial role in shaping the experience for everyone involved in the project. Likewise, delivering these acts of planning in a manner which is guided by the values of care requires skill, effort, and labour which, if unremarked upon, is further devalued. Centralising the significance of these acts, then, serves to underline their necessity to an arts project and makes them more visible. Making this work more visible and reflecting on it as a crucial part of the creative project brings a greater awareness of how it is delivered, prompting one to act more consciously.

Demonstrating care during the process of developing ‘Being with Raven’ began with assembling the team. Director Eve Nicol and I were careful to consider which performers would be comfortable interacting directly with audiences, and the potential risk and uncertainty this can invite. When approaching performers and their agents, I took care to be clear about the nature of the project and the work involved so they could be as prepared and well-informed as possible before agreeing to join the team. Later, when it came to organising the programme of work for each day, we discussed a schedule that would work best for everyone, in this case, shorter lunch breaks and an earlier finish, agreed upon to accommodate childcare responsibilities, but also discussed as most beneficial for energy levels. Rather than making assumptions about working hours, or telling the group how we would work, we endeavoured to be flexible to the particular needs and preferences of our team. As the instigator of a performance that addresses care thematically and argues that care can be employed as a formal creative strategy, I believed that it was integral I demonstrated these values throughout the entire process. The result was that my role, as playwright, expanded to include additional organisational duties, yet, as I discuss in Section 1, one cannot so readily delineate functional decisions from artistic concerns. The physical conditions of the working environment, and the practical choices made that impact how the creative team feels within the space, directly inform how they relate to one another, and respond to the creative material. Sharing in the responsibility for organisational matters is, therefore, another way in which the playwright can support the process of developing and sharing a participatory work without being in the performance itself.

Alongside the more functional matters of executing the creative project, care can also be modelled through collaborative working and a mutual appreciation of the skills and experiences that every member brings to the process. Thompson argues that a project formulated on an aesthetics of care will facilitate co-creation and collaboration throughout the process (Thompson, Reference Tomlin2020, p. 45). For this to be realised in practice, there needs to be a shared understanding of what the aims of the project might be. ‘Being with Raven’ was both a creative project and a research enquiry, and consequently, I endeavoured to position all collaborators as co-creators and co-researchers who were invited to engage with the creative exploration and the research questions underpinning it. This demonstrates a respect for, and an appreciation of, the variety of experiences and viewpoints each person will be able to bring to the project.

The creative team collectively agreed upon the shared aims of the play and would refer back to these to guide the process when making artistic choices. As the playwright, I was present throughout the rehearsal process, frequently adjusting the script in response to the insights that arose through the process of being, and creating, together. The text that I had initially developed alone, was moulded and shaped by the ideas and contributions of the whole creative team. It was my intention that the script was not a fixed structure that the director and performers had to work around, but a flexible framework that could adapt, and, crucially, respond to the suggestions of the whole team. I would suggest what arises as a result of the time made for exploration and discussion is what Thompson describes as ‘relational solidarity’, which emerges in and through activities designed to facilitate sharing, co-creation, and dialogue. This can occur as a result of a working structure that allows for attentiveness to the viewpoints of all contributors. It might evolve organically through the process of working on the script and creative experimentation but can also be realised through scheduled times for reflection and sharing. Throughout the process, the whole team participated in daily check-ins and check-outs. Although not the only opportunity to share how they were feeling, this was a carved-out space for doing so, which the team knew would be honoured each day; each person would speak, each person would be listened to. There was undeniably an artistry evident in the ways people chose to express how they were feeling, but additionally, there was a sensory quality to the relations that arose as a result of this process of sharing and listening to one another. Embodied responses such as laughter, an assuring nod of the head, or a shared sigh took on an aesthetic quality and bore evidence of the connections and mutual understanding between those present. This was one structured device that allowed time and space for the feelings of ‘mutual respect and regard’ that Thompson centralises as imperative for an aesthetics of care to flourish. It was my perception that the value and importance that collaborators attributed to this device arose as a result of it being adhered to each day. We might consider that structure can perform an aesthetics of care in two ways. On the one hand, having regularity, a sense of the shape of each day, means that collaborators can prepare themselves, as well as demonstrate a respect for everyone’s time. Secondly, the structures themselves may take on an aesthetic feel as a repeated act, such as a morning check-in, can take on a ritualised quality that might be considered artful. I would suggest that having some fixed infrastructures in the creative process, a morning ritual that is observed before script work, a set lunch time and commitment to prepare the space accordingly, can generate a sense of safety and physical ease, which then creates an environment in which collaborators feel supported as they explore artistically. The relations that arise as a result of this structure of care can be considered as part of the aesthetic material that is being woven into the performance. These relational qualities then informed the sensory feel and atmosphere of the space, which coloured the presentation of the textual framework itself. I would also note that, in a responsive and care-centred practice, these opportunities for dialogue and sharing should continue throughout the run of the performance. As I discuss in Section 1, it is important for the creative team behind a participatory work to allow for ongoing reflection, and to adjust where necessary, particularly given that the uncertain nature of porous, participatory works means that there may well be significant variations in the performance experience.

3.6 Care Reciprocated

I explored earlier in this section a reciprocity inherent in a practice that is guided by the values of care, that experiencing being cared-for can in turn lead one to care-about. I argue that as the initiator of the creative project, the responsibility fell upon me to ‘set the tone’ and suggest what the affective quality of the relations when collaborating might be. I have described some of the devices I employed to model and enact care towards the team. This inspired reciprocal acts of caring from the creative team towards one another, which in turn shapes the quality of care they then perform towards the audience. Here, I will focus on one example of how an act of care, seemingly adjacent to, rather than specifically part of the performance model, was delivered and received between performers.

On the final day of rehearsals together, ahead of the performances with an invited audience, one performer told the group she had prepared a playlist and offered to lead everyone in a physical warm-up before the performances. This performer had volunteered to do this of her own volition, and the playlist she had created comprised of songs that, although not explicitly in the script, had been referred to in conversations during the week or carried some relevance to themes in the play. The performer demonstrated an attentiveness to the collective experience of the time spent together, the song choices referring to the shared stories that had emerged through the creative process. Leading this warm-up was, on the one hand, an act of care in a functional, practical way – a physical activity to prepare the body for performance – but curating a list that would be meaningful to the team, and their shared experience, also illustrated an artistry and an additional level of attentiveness to specific people in the group. Aesthetics then emerged in the quality of relations that arose as the team did the warmup – laughter, a physical loosening up and letting go, a confession of nerves from one performer that was met by assurances from the rest. There was an aesthetic quality both to the movements of the bodies in the space but also to the feelings of care, affection, and support that emerged in and through the activity. I would suggest that this gesture from the performer and the reception it was met with evidenced a level of care amongst the creative team, and indicates the mutually affectionate and respectful quality of relations between them. The offer of leading this activity was borne from feelings of care and trust that had emerged throughout the week; yet in the practice of taking part in the dance, further sensations of connection, pleasure, mutual support, and recognition were generated.

It is not insignificant that the example I cite of caring relations between the performers occurred shortly before they delivered their performances to the audience. Earlier in this section, I described how there are written directions in the text that need to be imbued with a caring, sensitive quality to achieve their intended affect. This strategy of procedural authorship is designed to be performed in a manner that demonstrates attentiveness and openness towards the audience. I argue that crafting acts of care towards the audience in the aesthetic framework and then ensuring that all contributions they make are met with care, is a key method that a playwright can employ to offer a performance model in which the audience experience themselves as participating co-authors. I would contend that this aesthetic component of the play will be more readily understood and valued by the performers if they have experienced these caring qualities during the rehearsal and development phases. The mutually respectful relations cultivated between performers and playwright, performers and director, and performer and performer then act as a foundation from which they can deliver and perform these acts of care towards audience members. In turn, the experience of being cared for by the performers can be seen to result in reciprocal acts of care performed by the audience, in the way they engage with and contribute to the narrative body of the work, and in the manner in which they engage with and respond to one another. The practice of care then exists in a mutually sustaining cycle.

We might consider that the relations that have been modelled in rehearsals lay an affective blueprint for the performers to follow when interacting with the audience. A sensory quality has been suggested throughout the creative process that is then realised in performance. The caring values that I have suggested are integral to this project realising its aim in performance, have not just been discussed but demonstrated throughout the phases of creating together. As Thompson argues, and I have supported in the analysis of my own practice, the relations that arise within a collaborative arts project can become part of its aesthetic material. Therefore, in the same way we might pay attention to the design of other creative elements – lighting, configuration of space, sound, and how these affect the atmosphere and feel of a work – so too can we pay attention to the quality of relational interaction that the project invites. This can be demonstrated within the crafted framework and artistic devices but also in the structure and organisation of the whole process. I would suggest that this is about valuing the interpersonal and organisational components of a creative project, recognising the impact these have on how collaborators relate to one another and on the artistic model. In the same way, I have explored how artistic craft, such as playwriting, can be produced with care and employed to invite care within the performance framework, organisational and preparatory elements of a performance can also be delivered in a manner that is both caring and artistic. Communication amongst teams, warm-up activities, and break times can be guided by the values of care and delivered with the same attention to detail and skill as one would design the lighting of the room or soundscape for the performance.

In this section, I propose taking a position of relational awareness as the starting point of the process of developing a participatory performance. In so doing, I suggest that the whole creative team will be attuned to the multifaceted ways relations can be understood and realised in the project: how characters relate to one another, and the audience; how the audience are positioned and invited to relate to the work; how the creative team collaborate both in development and performance. This isn’t about creating relations, however, but is a call to be more attuned to the always-already relational network at play. Recognising that relational dynamics can be crafted and shaped prompts the creative team to act more consciously, and responsibly towards one another, with the outcome of a more cohesive and creatively rewarding artistic experience, that in turn models richer, fairer interpersonal connection for all involved.