DocPerform 2: A Twitter Archive

This post was written by current CityLIS student Tom Ash. Tom collected the Tweets shared around our hashtag over the duration of the conference, 6-7th Nov 2017, using a popular application written by Martin Hawksey. The post will be of value to others interested in collating and and archiving twitter activity surrounding an event, user or hashtag. The text first appeared on Tom’s personal blog, and is reproduced here with kind permission.

You can follow Tom on Twitter.

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Documenting Performance 2017

Image by James Hobbs http://www.james-hobbs.co.uk

This past week saw the return of the Documenting Performance Symposium at City, University of London, with DocPerform 2: New Technologies. You can read my thoughts about last years conference in my post On Documenting Performance and Suzanne Briet. To mark this years event I have created a  Twitter Archive of the symposium constructed using the #docperform hashtag and the TAGS twitter archiving tool by @mhawksey.

The Tool creates an archive of all tweets using a chosen keyword or #hastag in Googlesheets, which you can then explore interactively using the TAGSExplorer. This produces and interactive network graph style visualisation allowing you to explore twitter activity around your chosen hastag or term.

You can also explore the #docperform hastag using the TAGSExplorer

You can also explore the full archive via the TAGSArchive

Storify
In addition to this you can also the Storify created by @lynrobinson of the event which I have linked to here.

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Documenting Performance (DocPerform) is a project organised and run by Department of Library & Information Science, (CityLIS), at City, University of London. The 2017 symposium was held from 6th to 6th November 2017 and aimed to bring together a multidisciplinary group of people, with a shared interested in understanding and developing the ways in which performance, as part of our cultural heritage, can be created, recorded, preserved, re-experienced and reused. The symposium is intended to collate a representative body of work in this area, to foster new partnerships and collaborations, and to support the dissemination and implementation of ideas generated.

For more details see the DocPerform website:  https://documentingperformance.com

Documenting DocumentingPerformance

Two of our current CityLIS students, Hanna James and Matt Peck, have combined their writing talents to create this joint review of the presentations which were given on Day 1 of DocPerform 2: New Technologies, held on 6th November 2017.

The review exemplifies the benefits of joint, reflective writing, as each writer responds to the comments and thoughts of the other. It seems to me, as though the whole reaches beyond the sum of its parts as a result.

The work describes clearly the challenges and responses to the documentation of performance, as understood and investigated by our fabulous speakers.

This blog post first appeared on both Matt’s and Hanna’s personal blogs, and is reproduced here with kind permission.

You can follow Hanna and Matt on Twitter.

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Image by James Hobbs http://www.james-hobbs.co.uk

HJ: The music flowed like honey when Lynnsey Weissenberg started playing her fiddle. It was an instantly intelligible experience to my senses: a ‘here and now’ experience. Once it was over, it was over, and no two performances are exactly the same. The performance itself did not leave any artefacts behind, but left the audience with their own memories of the performed piece (and, in some cases, photos or videos on their iPhones). For that reason, the power of documenting performances lies not only in preserving the performance (or a shadow of it), but also the creative process and even the theatrical experience. On the first day of DocPerform2 (6 November 2017), the speakers talked about the challenges, the opportunities, the twists, the value, the functions and many more about documenting performances. In this post, my CityLIS course-mate Matt Peck and I will reflect on and recap the presentations of the day. Matt and I have different writing styles and points of view. Through juxtaposing our writings, we draw up the diverged focuses in one post and collectively constitute a multi-dimensional picture of the day.

MLP: The final presentation included a film from C-DaRE’s Resilience and Inclusion Online Toolkit. The video explores the dance-making practices of several disabled dance artists, and the lead creative, Kate Marsh, is interviewed on camera and speaks about coming to terms with owning work that her body produces. It is something of a paradox that she is not one of the featured performers in the video, but its choreographer, positioning her as the intellectual owner of the work belonging to other bodies and being recorded and filmed by other bodies entirely. For me, the tension between individual subjectivity and possession was a thread throughout a number of the sessions and gets to several fundamental challenges of documenting performance. These include establishing clarity on whose point of view is being represented and mediated and determining appropriate (and useable) attribution for that point of view.

HJ: Virtuosity is undoubtedly a possession of individual dancers, while subjectivity of the creative process is seen as an important element of archiving. We saw speakers discuss documents unintended to be archival materials but nevertheless attributed to form part of a totality and thereby made into or considered as documents. In the case of Siobhan Davies’s archive, also presented by C-DaRE’s Sarah Whatley, rehearsal materials together with other hidden items such as lighting cues and speaker layout, reconstructed and translated Davies’s creativity. The interface of the digital archive was designed to meet the users’ needs as a virtual environment that endeavours to provide contextual information for better understanding of the artist’s performances. This typifies much of the archivists’ work: pinning down the creators’ subjectivity whilst bearing end users’ point of view in mind.

MLP: Issues of this type were present from the outset — the AusStage and Irish Traditional Music Archives both reflect attempts at representing the multi-faceted nature of performances, and one of the key challenges they both grapple with is demonstrating the centrality of the humans involved in their respective art forms. Both presentations made compelling arguments that this focus on the individual is important. On the stage, that might be making explicit the links between theatre professionals who rely on a personalised network to achieve their respective creative visions, while the ontology Lynnsey Weissenberg described had people at its centre because they are critical to the evolution and spread of song renditions or playing styles. These developments retain links to their originators and must be acknowledged in record-keeping to allow archive users to trace how social networks map on to music creation and transmission.

HJ: Indeed, Lynnsey Weissenberg’s LITMUS project is fascinating in terms of her designation to capture the people-centred relationship of traditional Irish music and dance that fit RDF. The predicate in the RDF triple is employed to denote the relationship  one derives from the allegory/story telling characteristics of the heritage. At the same time, it seeks to find a solution to the non-uniform language (English/Irish) and geographical attributes. It also attempts to decipher and foreground the context in a way  unfulfilled by existing vocabularies such as American Folklore Society’s Ethnographic Thesaurus (AFSET). These hierarchical linked data act as keepers preserving the intricate elements in Irish music and dance, just as the digital marks in Ramona Riedzewski (V&A) and Jenny Fewster’s (AusStage) project of building an IMDB for performing arts.

Picture1

The relations between memories, mementos and digital marks (Credit: Jenny Fewster)

Riedzewski talked about taking up the role of being the custodian of mementos (e.g. script with handwritten comments) during the process of building the database, which encapsulate (personal) memories surrounding theatre performances. While documentation of these mementos provides a fixity to artistry, the virtual gallery breaks the national boundaries and allows sharing of these memories in the infosphere. This characteristic of digital archive is also relevant to Pam Schweitzer’s The Reminiscence Theatre Archive, a deposit of interviews created between 1983 to 2005. These records are not only materials for theatre production during that period, but also are containers of the interviewees’ personal memories. Their survival owes to Schweitzer’s relentless effort and is given a refreshed life in education and research.

MLP: Marc Kosciewjew’s paper, the most theoretical of the day, focused on material literacy, which linked nicely with the National Theatre archive’s efforts to document the craft-making process for costuming and other theatrical properties. Illuminating the origins of materials used on stage can both support future research and contribute to actors’ development of their respective performances. The work of the James Hardiman Library in NUI Galway demonstrated other ways in which subjectivity can be reclaimed, highlighting collection items that help users to recreate characterisation techniques such as a stammer shown in an actor’s modified play script. It became clear in these talks, and others, that the documents were not just of the performance, but of the performers themselves. Indeed, we heard from several sources about a hesitancy of professionals to refer to archival material lest their own visions be compromised or unduly influenced. This brings the notion of ownership of a body’s product full circle: another body fears creative contamination by coming into contact with that product.

HJ: Kosciewjew’s presentation also brought about the notion of understanding – the materiality of document and performance is intertwined with materialism, things. Michael Buckland conceptualised information as knowledge, process, thing. Kosciewjew spoke about how documents illuminate the context of information, integrate teaching and research. We saw a second triangular flow chart in Erin Lee’s (National Theatre) presentation “Should theatre disappear like bubble?”. The diagram embodied a three-way dialogue of archivist, academic and practitioners in using archives for teaching, research and preservation.

Picture2

A three way dialogue in preserving NT archives (Credit: Erin Lee)

On the flip side, Barry Houlihan (NUI Galway) showed us how an array of documents of the Irish Theatre Archive had been used to engage new scholarship and reminded us that, for a user, whether a curious undergraduate or an established academic, the starting point is the same – to discover new knowledge. As the stammer example Matt quoted above, users gain an extra strand of knowledge about a production, which is unobtainable from just reading a book of script borrowed from a library. Hence, curation and the way to stage materials is instrumental in research and learning. Moreover, the discovery process is reinforced by user’s proficiency in using the digital discovery tool. In other words, archival literacy is pivotal to the success of an archive.

MLP: Willing documentation and re-presentation of first person experiences were a focus of the afternoon sessions. We saw that in one form as submissions to the IDOCDE database, which allows dance instructors to use their own words to narrate their movement and teaching practices. But it may also be formalised through interview for later dramatic reenactment by a company such as the Reminiscence Theatre. Alternatively, as we saw in the DARC Practice performance, it may involve oblique narration, gesture and self harm. Each of these represented a highly personalised form of expression, the mediation of which creates documents of its own. We saw examples of this throughout the talks, nicely described in the end by Sarah Whatley as ‘accidental archives’. That could occur in the present — Ernst Fischer offered the fabric he cut out of his shirt — or in historical practice. The Reminiscence Theatre, for instance, conducted interviews in order to produce its verbatim scripts for stage presentation, but the interviews themselves, whether transcribed or recorded, operate in manifold ways: capturing an individual’s history, documenting the moment of the interview encounter, and demonstrating a particular methodology of theatre-making. But even when the archiving is evidently more intentional, such as the filming of theatre productions for commercial or practical purposes, André Deridder offered a useful reminder that the artefact is merely a simulacrum of the live act and should not be confused as its equivalent. Rather, he suggested it may be an entirely different work, and even if there is no apparent change to the performance itself, to the extent its representation has been mediated through both the camera mechanism and the subjective choices of operators and editors, that seems right.

HJ: IDOCDE’s Mind the Dance project (John Taylor) and DARC (Ernst Fischer and Manuel Vason) also demonstrate that documenting performance does not need to be discursive. Mind the Dance functions rather as a reflective repository used for contemporary dance education. Taylor exemplified this with Kerstin Kussmaul’s article comparing body work to the architectural design concept of tensegrity, to deploy symbolic nature in communicating an art form. DARC, an open source archive for artists based in London, testifying the act of documentation is a creative process in its own right. At the symposium, Ernst Fischer and Manuel Vason treated us to a live performance with themes relating to documentation and photography. Vason, a known photographer/performer, has taken on two paradoxical roles single-handedly as a documenter and as a transitory artist. Fischer’s bloodily performance called upon me, an audience, to interpret the message it entailed. An apprehension about blood is an audience’s subjectivity, an immersive experience that left a mark in my memory.

MLP: Properly recognising the various contributions of the individuals that make a performance (and its ancillary documents) is a struggle for the information professional. There are questions about how to technically catalog materials, and Debbie Lee’s talk on FRBR and LRM was instructive. But even if those methods (or the triples approach described and proposed in the AusStage and LITMUS applications) were sufficient, there are still questions about ownership, whether the performer or some other type of copyright holder, and, for lack of a better term, accuracy. The archival process ultimately determines what is and is not important to preserve, and, as Kosciewjew described, the loss of one document may alter the interpretation of the broader story.

HJ: Librarians have a DUTY to describe documents accurately through cataloguing. Switching back to a more technical point of view in terms of documentation within an information technology environment, if performance itself as document, how can it fit in FRBR/LMR data models? Confronted by Debbie Lee, FRBR, a quaternary/high-level bibliographic record model developed by IFLA, has an intrinsic problem in dealing with the relationship of live performances and recordings. FRBR/LMR does not satisfactorily distinguish between work and expression in every given context. When performance is treated as work, there is much distortion to the aboutness of the manifestation. It is hardly an uncanny resemblance of Weissenberg’s LITMUS project. Both papers are showcases of the fact that there is still much effort required to take data relating to performance out of the silos.

The relationship of recordings and performance was also brought up by André Deridder. Is recording simply a shadow of theatrical performance? Or is it something new? Deridder commented conscious audio-visual record rework a stage performance. He used the Belgian artist, René Magritte’s renowned painting “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” to illustrate that a representation is NOT the original object. The act of recording a performance meant to be live with purposeful arrangements (e.g. lighting, sound, camera angle and even presence of audiences) creates an expression on its own and renders different experience to the audience.

MLP: In the end, despite Peter Hall’s protestations, theatre (and other performance) should not disappear like soap bubbles. For one, if nowhere else, it exists in memory. But the information professional has the responsibility to be clear about the limitations of the residue those bubbles leave. One of a document’s attributes as outlined by Buckland is its capacity for spawning other documents, and performance certainly operates in that way. Nevertheless, and perhaps more so than Briet’s antelope, performance is experienced differently in mind and body by each audience member. Documenting performance necessarily reflects the slipperiness between those different experiences. That can be a site of opportunity, but it should be recognised as such and not as an equivalent replacement for the lived experience of either the performer or the audience. Instead, any resulting documents in turn give rise to new performances and, naturally, new documents.

DocPerform 2: New Technologies 6-7th Nov 2017

Just over a year ago, I penned the first entry for this website’s blog. My aim was to detail the backstory to my idea for the DocPerform project, as we planned our first, exploratory symposium. I wrote that we hoped ‘our initial event will spark further interest to form a longer term project’. I also hoped for participants.

I am pleased then, to now write, that today, CityLIS will host our second symposium DocPerform 2: New Technologies. Our 2017 gathering will run for two days, to allow for more presentations and ideas, discussion, reflection and planning.

Since the previous event, we have thought much about the concepts of documents and the processes of documentation, and the central place of these activities within the discipline of library & information science. In respect of new/future documents, we have focused on performance, and the likely impact of immersive technologies and behaviours. Over the course of 12 months, we have seen many developments in the technologies and social-cultural behaviours which first inspired our thoughts on immersive documents, and the processes which could support their amalgamation into mainstream library and information services. All of this has enriched our curriculum here at CityLIS, not least as a result of the new colleagues we have introduced as contributors to our master’s course modules.

Further, we are delighted to have appointed Dr Joseph Dunne as part-time lecturer in Library Science, to explore further the concept of performance as a document, and the documentary processes associated with the recording and archiving of the performing arts. Joe will also bring an external perspective to LIS, encountering and commenting on our work from the perspective of theatre and performance, and considering how we can communicate our work in recording humankind’s endeavours beyond the classroom and the profession, into the wider community.

Our first symposium collected together existing documentation projects from both the LIS and the theatre and performance disciplines. In our second event, we have elected to focus on theatre and dance, looking at how new technologies have changed the way in which we understand, create and experience performance, and consequently how we record, archive and preserve it as part of our cultural heritage.

Interestingly, despite significant developments in technologies and participatory behaviour, the documentation of performance appears to be somewhat reticent to move beyond record keeping as already understood. Maybe our work within the DocPerform project can change that, as we have drawn out some exciting conceptual ideas and prototypes for innovative use of technology for our Programme.

And finally, massive thanks to the DocPerform Team for making this happen, Joe Dunne, David Bawden, Sarah Rubidge, Ramone Riedzewski, and Ludi Price (admin magician). Thank also to Tom Ash for tech support and blogging, and to artist James Hobbs for our lovely logo!

Notes Made in the Theatre and in the Dark: An exploration of the methods used in ballet documentation and reconstruction by Adelaide Robinson

Notes Made in the Theatre and in the Dark:
An exploration of the methods used in ballet documentation and reconstruction

Adelaide Robinson, Department of Library & Information Science, City, University of London

This text was written by Adelaide as a student assignment, in fulfilment of the requirements set for the Independent Study module at CityLIS, 2016/17.

Follow Adelaide Robinson on Twitter: @adafrobinson

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Introduction

The documentation of dance is a complicated field. As with any kind of live performance, there is a strong divide between what is technically possible to record, and what is possible to be reconstructed from those records. Not only is there a technical difficulty in recording a live performance – with video, written accounts, notation, or otherwise – but some artists believe that to try and document something in an inherently ephemeral medium goes against the point of their art. Therefore dance and theatre historians face challenges on many levels when trying to find documents and recreate performances for a new audience. Theatrical researchers usually have the luxury of scripts, scores, and written accounts from directors and actors, but those looking for ballet documentation have to work around the difficulty that is writing down a narrative with no words.

While documentation can be read and studied satisfactorily by those who simply have an interest in ballet, the job of reconstructing a past performance relies on these often fragmented and conflicting records. Methods of documentation in balletic dance history differ wildly from ballet to ballet: records can vary from informal sketches of dancers to highly complex sheets of notation. (Note; for the purposes of this essay, “dance” will refer to the European balletic tradition.) For some ballets we have no record of the production whatsoever, other than a name. In the modern, digital age, video cameras and new computer software – capable of recognising, recording, and storing movement – may or may not usher in a new era of ballet that will remain perfectly preserved for future generations. But whether or not even this will allow for a genuine reconstruction of any performance from the past remains to be seen. Using the various reconstruction and recreation efforts associated with Nijinsky’s Le Sacre du Printemps as a case study, this paper aims to explore the most common methods used throughout the history of dance documentation for ballet, and evaluate their effectiveness when it comes to reconstruction while keeping the following questions in mind; how and why has dance documentation evolved? And if the complete reconstruction of a ballet is impossible, then what is the point of documentation?

Dance Notation

In a 1986 review of recent developments in European dance history, Meredith Little presented the following argument.

“Studies in dance history may be boring to read because the material presented refers to nothing in our own experience; we must invent our own examples in order to make any sense out of it at all. How interesting would studies of Shakespeare be if, at best, only fragments of plays had survived?”[1]

While more standardised methods of notation and the increasing accessibility of filmed performances have proliferated in the ballet world in recent years, making reconstruction an easier task for future directors, reconstructors at present still have to work with these older “fragments” that the previous generation of choreographers left behind.

Dance notation is older than one might expect; European dance notation is generally agreed to have started with Pierre Beauchamp-Feuillet’s system of recording Baroque dance, (1700, in his work Choréographie), which was commissioned by Louis XIV. (It should be noted that other systems of dance notation were used before this publication, but in much the same way that Shakespeare is credited with inventing words as he recorded contemporary colloquial speech, Beauchamp codified existing systems into the first standardised notation system. It is also seen as especially relevant for being authorised by the French monarch.)[2] Dance notation then evolved through various forms and off-shoots devised by choreographers and dancers with different needs to fulfil. This diversity, while fascinating to study, does not lend itself to easy reconstruction of pre-modern ballet.

The most common and popular form of notation used today is Benesh, devised by Rudolph and Joan Benesh (1950s), with Labanotation (1928) a close second. Many directors now employ a notation expert, or “notator”, to work alongside choreographers and ensure that new productions are recorded to the full extent of their ability to be so. Notation experts are now often credited in programmes, as well as the original authors of notation scores, showing that notation has become something well-used and of value in the modern ballet world.

Some dance history scholars have expressed concerns about the growing dependence on notation scores in the current ballet world. Judy van Zile – professor of dance at the University of Hawai’i – argues that depending on the services of a professional notator diminishes the score’s accuracy, as the dance is being recorded by someone other than the person who created (or is dancing) it. This brings up several questions; most importantly, can a separate party accurately record a dance?[3] For the companies putting on popular ballets, this is not a problem; there is always someone available to teach who has danced Juliet before, for example, and this first-hand experience improves the process. For reconstructors of older and less well-documented ballets, trusting one person’s notes – a person who they may never be able to meet or ask questions of – can be a difficult, almost impossible experience. Dance notation is also not easy to read. As Meredith Little puts it, “researchers are finding that each notation system is a language with its own syntax; symbols have different meanings in different contact, and one must translate phrases, sections and whole pieces as well as individual steps and step units.”[4] If a company is without a skilled notation expert, possessing complex scores may be of little value to them.

Pictured: a section from the Sunday 18 March 2017 programme for “The Human Seasons/After The Rain/Flight Pattern” at the Royal Opera House. “Flight Pattern” premiered on 16 March 2017, and the Benesh notator for the production was Gregory Mislin.[5]

Documentation in the Digital Age

As documentation in the library and information sector in the digital age has become increasingly computerised, and many documents are now ‘digital-born’, so has the world of dance documentation made tentative steps towards the same. As Judith Gray put it: “Of all the arts, dance would seem the least likely to accede to the vagaries of rapid change and the relentless advances of this modern technology,” yet computer software has become far more prevalent in the field of dance notation recently.[6] Janos Fügedi’s 1998 review of the application available for recording and preserving dance, while dated, still gives us an insightful look at the potential for these types of software. Computer applications for dance generally include the following outputs; computer animations based on dancers’ movements, born-digital dance notation, and databases of scores. Fügedi has a positive outlook on computer applications, stating that dance research can gain “great benefits” from computer applications in the field and ends his review on the hopeful note that “the connection of local dance notation collections to the Internet (…) will open a new horizon for factual, documented dance based comparative research.”[7] Unfortunately, the majority of dance notation collections are still only available in physical libraries, with computer applications reserved for those with a higher knowledge level of programming and better resources for the more intense processes such as motion capture.

Putting a greater focus on dance documentation in the digital era has already changed how ballet is produced and shared. For example, the copyrighting of a live performance has been especially difficult for choreographers in the past, as original choreography needs to be “fixed” before it can be put under copyright: the performance is not enough. With the proliferation of better notation systems and the introduction of video cameras to most theatres and dance studios, choreographers now have much better access to enforcing copyright of their original works.[8] Dance documentation also looks to become even more digitally-minded in the future. When computer software for dance notation was new, the hope was that it would lead to a program that would deliver an ‘enhanced’ score, with video and music to accompany the notation. As described by Wilmer and Resende, “in this way a student would simultaneously (1) hear the music of the ballet, (2) have access to the music score, (3) watch a performance of the ballet, (4) see the dance score, (5) see illustrations of each position or movement of the dancers body and (6) find out the name of each position or movement.”[9] Although there is no such definitive program yet, dancers and choreographers do now have much easier access to filmed performances, and the advance of motion capture and animation in documentation software enables a greater understanding of recorded movement than a simple, printed dance score.

Case Study: Le Sacre du Printemps (The Rite of Spring)

Le Sacre occupies a special place in the history of dance reconstruction and recreation. There are over a hundred different productions associated with Stravinsky’s original score.[10] While most of these are completely different dancers, some have tried to recreate Nijinsky’s original choreography; using sketches, eyewitness accounts, and reviews. The lure of the Rite of Spring most likely stems from the fantastical stories of its first performance on May 29, 1913 in Paris. The combination of Stravinsky’s intense, overwhelming score, and Nijinsky’s modern choreography produced a hostile environment for the audience and led to a riot. The performance ran for only six more nights in its original run. The scandal of “the riot of spring” has been a key ingredient of its popularity ever since.

The difficulty of reconstructing Nijinsky’s Sacre has been part of an enduring myth of “the lost masterpiece”. Years after the ballet was dropped from the repertoire, by the director of the Ballet Russes, Serge Diaghilev, it was put up for revival by the same man. According to reports at the time, “apparently no one could remember the movement, even though some of the original cast were still performing with the company.”[11] A revival was in fact staged, but was unsuccessful and used practically new choreography. The most true to life reconstruction of the Sacre was researched and written by Millicent Hodson and Kenneth Archer, and staged by the Joffrey Ballet in 1987. It is the methods of dance documentation used for this reconstruction, and the accounts of Hodson and Archer themselves on the process, which will make up the largest portion of this case study. The fragments available to them demonstrated many different varieties of dance documentation; from sketches, to notation, to eyewitness accounts written down in interviews and diaries.

There are almost no records of any notation for Le Sacre. As the production was unlike any ballet that had come before it, there was a difficulty in fitting the expressive new movements in Nijinsky’s choreography into established notation systems. Nijinsky himself seemed to be frustrated with notation, having been quoted as saying:

“I am forced to cry for a ‘partition of movements’ where to place my instruments – which are the human bodies – in a manner that is in absolute accordance with a white canvas for Bakst or group of islands for Debussy. My composition is even less simple because the human body does not possess just 4 strings but an infinite multitude of sensitive and expressive elements.”[12] (Quoted in Hector Cahusac’s, “Debussy et Nijinsky,” 14 May 1913.)

However, although no score from Nijinsky has been found, there was a rumour that he intended to produce one. In Hodson’s preface to the reconstructed score, she quotes a contemporary of Nijinsky, as having heard the choreographer say:

“I have invented symbols to represent the dancers. The note on the stave represents the head, their gestures are indicated by stylised attitudes. I have transcribed the Sacre and intend to transcribe all of (my ballets)… And in ten, twenty, a hundred years, they will be able to dance these ballets as they danced them today.”[13]

The reconstruction process would certainly have been easier if Nijinsky had followed through on this statement.

Rarely does a reconstructor have to rely on a score (whole or otherwise) alone; the most successful projects have had access to a multitude of different, less official records to help the process. While notation systems are useful and complex enough to record the more complicated aspects of movement, it is important to not discount other, more informal forms of records; such as sketches, written accounts from company members and other involved peoples, reviews, programs, costumes, and other such souvenirs and mementoes associated with attending a dance. Much of the information we have on ballets lost to history is due to reviews. As documents, reviews can provide dance historians and reconstructors with a wealth of important information. An example of this can be seen below:

 Pictured: an illustration accompanying a review of the 1921 run of Le Sacre du Printemps in ‘The Sketch’. [14]

This illustration, although meant to provide humorous insights for the review, actually contains a wealth of useful information about the 1921 revival. Firstly, it gives us the name of the principal dancer, Lydia Sokolova, which is useful as the names of individual dancers were not always recorded in early 20th century programmes. There are the sketched out costumes, which provide valuable reference points for costume reconstructors; showing clothing, accessories, the weight and hang of the material, and the fact that the dancers appear not to wear pointe shoes. Most importantly, in the illustrations and in the jokes in the captions, we find useful descriptions of the actual movements of the dance. While ‘oranges and lemons’ is meant to be a humorous commentary, it and the accompanying illustration tells a reconstructor that a movement occurs in the dance where a dancer moves through two lines of parallel dancers with their hands linked. The series of illustrations above the main picture provides an even clearer representation of a particular movement, sketched out in stages. While this document was not intended to be a record of this kind, documents such as this can be invaluable to a reconstructor. Written accounts in reviews are also useful. However, reviews are by their very nature biased, and do not present an objective record of a performance. Reviews in papers can be sensationalised to sell more copies of a publication. This may be a problem in the case of “the riot of spring”, where different accounts of Le Sacre’s first performance may be unreliable due to being repeated and embellished in a ‘Chinese whispers’ style.

In a place where performance studies and fan studies intersect, documentation of any live performance owes much to the devotion of its audience. Many sketches of the original 1913 Sacre have been found and used in reconstruction attempts. The most influential were drawn by Valentine Hugo (née Gross); an illustrator, painter, and ballet enthusiast whose works can now be found in the Valentine Gross Archive in the Victoria and Albert museum’s Department of Theatre and Performance.[15] Valentine Hugo, a devoted follower of the Ballet Russes, made many sketches of their rehearsals and performances between 1910 to 1914. Her motivations and process were described by Richard Buckle in the following quote, presented in the introduction of a book of Hugo’s sketches:

“The motive, of course, behind the tireless jottings of Valentine Gross, was to record a series of uplifting theatrical experiences (…). Her notes made in the theatre and in the dark could be caught unconscious, because she did not know what or how she was drawing. Together with the scribbled name of a dancer or the collar of a costume they were an aide-mémoire which might turn out to be legible and helpful, or as happened in a number of cases, might not. She would not consider these notes as drawings and would probably shrink from showing them to anyone else.”[16]

Pictured: Page of a sketch book showing blue crayon preliminary sketch made in Théâtre de Champs-Elysées during rehearsal or performance of Le Sacre du Printemps, Diaghilev Ballets Russes, 1913. Sketch by Valentine Gross.[17]

These informal forms of documentation should not be discounted; in many ways, Valentine Hugo’s “scribbled” sketches may have been of more use to reconstructors than any attempts at notation the choreographer tried to make. Drawings from a passionate fan can record more emotional context than even the most complex of notation systems. Hodson and Archer’s reconstruction of Le Sacre du Printemps hinged on two important documents; Stravinsky’s musical score, on which he had written descriptions of some movements above the stage, and Nijinsky’s contemporary Marie Rambert’s recreation of the score based on Dalcroze eurythmics, which was recovered after her death in 1982.[18] Despite this, it may have been the ‘unofficial’ documents that were the most useful to the reconstruction efforts.

Conclusion

If a perfect reproduction of a live performance is impossible, then what is the point of dance documentation? Many artists shy away from documenting, (specifically filming) their work, arguing that to document a live performance is to go against its inherently ephemeral nature. However, Renée Conroy argues that the purpose of documentation is vital in order “to enable today’s dancers to have a more robust kinaesthetic understanding of the works that pave the way for contemporary choreographic masters”.[19] By having more access to documents that record dances and dancers in their historical context, choreographers will be able to study the technical aspects of dance in a way that they may have not previously explored. Having a stronger focus on historical records of dance; including notation scores, photographs and pictures, and notes, could improve the choreographic process for many a company, and bringing dance documentation out of shoeboxes and old journals could improve the overall standing of dance history. Had the sketches of Valentine Gross been ignored, for example, a wealth of essential information on the Sacre, and several others of Nijinsky’s ballets, would have been lost. In his introduction to her works, Buckle praises her efforts: “dancers, choreographers and historians must for ever be grateful to her for the pains she took.”[20] While most methods of dance documentation – even film – are arguably unsuccessful in completely capturing a performance, documentation should still be treated as a vital part of the production process. Without it, many productions would be lost to history.

There is also the argument, as Sarah Rubidge puts it, that “works are artistically valuable in themselves, and should be made available to contemporary audiences for their intrinsic, rather than solely for their historical, value.”[21] Ballet enthusiasts should be able to relive the productions of the past in as much detail as possible; not just to learn, but to enjoy. If dance documentation continues to evolve in the digital age, those wanting to re-experience a production should not have to analyse sketches and score fragments, but instead should be able to watch the performance from their own homes or their local theatre and performance collections. With virtual reality making its way into the arts, balletomanes may even have the chance to relive ballets in a totally immersive experience. While many companies have put up 360 degree videos of rehearsals and behind-the-scenes featurettes before, the Dutch National Ballet were the first company to premiere a ballet that was created and produced for virtual reality. The show, ‘Night Fall’ was created in conjunction with the Samsung virtual reality department, premiered with free access online on World Ballet Day in 2016, and was also available to watch at the VR cinema in Amsterdam on the weekend of the 27th of August. This ground-breaking event highlights the third reason that dance should be documented; for posterity, for the dance itself, and also for the wider opening of access to the arts. Richard Heideman, press manager for the Dutch National Opera & Ballet, told Digital Trends that “it is also meant to see if we can reach a new audience with this project. We intended to reach out to people who would normally not buy a ticket to a theater or ballet performance, but are willing to try the VR project — and we hope it gets them inspired and excited to also try the live on stage experience one day.”[22]

Not only is documentation essential for reconstructing the ballets of the past, but it should also be used to introduce more people to the ballet of the present. Valentine Gross’s sketches were sold to tourists and ballet lovers in programmes as Le Sacre du Printemps played in Paris. These pictures were no doubt regarded fondly by those who never made it to the original, seven-show run, as they are regarded fondly by dance historians and enthusiasts today. As dance documentation evolves further into the digital age, it should continue make wider access to live performance art a priority.

Bibliography

Anderson, Jack. “THE JOFFREY BALLET RESTORES NIJINSKY’S ‘RITE OF SPRING.’” The New York Times. October 25, 1987. http://www.nytimes.com/1987/10/25/arts/the-joffrey-ballet-restores-nijinsky-s-rite-of-spring.html?pagewanted=all&pagewanted=print.

Conroy, Renee. “Dancework Reconstruction: Kinesthetic Preservation or Danceworld Kitsch?” American Society for Aesthetics, 2016, 5–9.

David, Irving. “Choreography and Copyright – Make the Right Moves.” Dance UK, 2012. http://www.danceuk.org/news/article/choreography-and-copyright/.

Dormehl, Luke. “The World’s First Virtual Reality Ballet Experience.” Digital Trends, 2016.

Fügedi, János. “Computer Applications in the Field of Dance Notation.” Studia Musicologica Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae 2/4, no. 39 (1998): 421–41.

Gray, Judith A. “Dance Technology: Current Applications and Future Trends.” In The Evolution of Dance Technology. The American Alliance for Health, Physical Educations, Recreation and Dance, 1989.

Hodson, Millicent. Nijisnky’s Crime Against Grace: Reconstruction Score of the Original Choreography for Le Sacre Du Printemps. Pendragon Press, 1996.

Hugo, Valentine. Nijinsky On Stage. Edited by Jean Hugo and Richard Buckle. First. London: Studio Vista Publishers, 1971.

Jarvinen, Hannah. “Kinesthesia, Synesthesia and Le Sacre Du Printemps: Responses to Dance Modernism.” The Senses and Society 1, no. 1 (2006).

Koegler, Horst. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Ballet. London: Oxford University Press, 1977.

Little, Meredith. “Recent Research in European Dance, 1400-1800.” Early Music 14, no. 1 (1986): 4–14. doi:10.1093/earlyj/14.1.4.

Rubidge, Sarah. “Reconstruction and Its Problems.” Dance Journal 2, no. 1 (1995).

V&A Collection. “Le Sacre Du Printemps | Gross, Valentine | V&A Search the Collections.” Accessed April 20, 2017. http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O1253870/le-sacre-du-printemps-drawing-gross-valentine/.

V&A Theatre and Performance Collection. “Le Sacre Du Printemps | Gross, Valentine.” V&A Collections. Accessed April 17, 2017. http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O1112109/le-sacre-du-printemps-drawing-gross-valentine/.

Wilmer, Celso, Cristiana Lara, and Cristiana Lara Resende. “Illustrations and Nomenclature Stave for Dance Movements: What Visual Communication Can Do for Dance.” Resende Source: Leonardo 31, no. 2 (1998): 111–17. http://www.jstor.org/stable/1576513.

Zile, Judy Van. “What Is the Dance? Implications for Dance Notation” 17, no. 2 (2009): 41–47.

[1] Meredith Little, “Recent Research in European Dance, 1400-1800,” Early Music 14, no. 1 (1986): p. 4

[2] Horst Koegler, The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Ballet (London: Oxford University Press, 1977). p. 60

[3] Judy Van Zile, “What Is the Dance? Implications for Dance Notation” 17, no. 2 (2009): 41–47.

[4] Little, “Recent Research in European Dance, 1400-1800.”

[5] Cast sheet: The Human Seasons/After the Rain/Flight Pattern, 18th March 2017, Royal Ballet, London. (London: Royal Opera House, 2017)

[6] Judith A Gray, “Dance Technology: Current Applications and Future Trends,” in The Evolution of Dance Technology (The American Alliance for Health, Physical Educations, Recreation and Dance, 1989).

[7] János Fügedi, “Computer Applications in the Field of Dance Notation,” Studia Musicologica Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae 2/4, no. 39 (1998): 421–41.

[8] Irving David, “Choreography and Copyright – Make the Right Moves,” Dance UK, 2012, http://www.danceuk.org/news/article/choreography-and-copyright/.

[9] Celso Wilmer, Cristiana Lara, and Cristiana Lara Resende, “Illustrations and Nomenclature Stave for Dance Movements: What Visual Communication Can Do for Dance,” Resende Source: Leonardo 31, no. 2 (1998): 111–17, http://www.jstor.org/stable/1576513.

[10] Millicent Hodson, Nijisnky’s Crime Against Grace: Reconstruction Score of the Original Choreography for Le Sacre Du Printemps (Pendragon Press, 1996). (Introduction).

[11] Ibid. p.7

[12] Hannah Jarvinen, “Kinesthesia, Synesthesia and Le Sacre Du Printemps: Responses to Dance Modernism,” The Senses and Society 1, no. 1 (2006). p. 78

[13] Hodson, Nijisnky’s Crime Against Grace: Reconstruction Score of the Original Choreography for Le Sacre Du Printemps., p. 23

[14] De Grineau, Brian. The Pagan “Shimmy Shake” at the Prince’s. July 6, 1921. V&A Theatre and Performance Collection, Blythe House, London.

[15] V&A Theatre and Performance Collection, “Le Sacre Du Printemps | Gross, Valentine,” V&A Collections, accessed April 17, 2017, http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O1112109/le-sacre-du-printemps-drawing-gross-valentine/.

[16] Valentine Hugo, Nijinsky On Stage, ed. Jean Hugo and Richard Buckle, First (London: Studio Vista Publishers, 1971). p. 12

[17] V&A Collection, “Le Sacre Du Printemps | Gross, Valentine | V&A Search the Collections,” accessed April 20, 2017, http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O1253870/le-sacre-du-printemps-drawing-gross-valentine/.

[18] Jack Anderson, “THE JOFFREY BALLET RESTORES NIJINSKY’S ‘RITE OF SPRING,’” The New York Times, October 25, 1987, http://www.nytimes.com/1987/10/25/arts/the-joffrey-ballet-restores-nijinsky-s-rite-of-spring.html?pagewanted=all&pagewanted=print.

[19] Renee Conroy, “Dancework Reconstruction: Kinesthetic Preservation or Danceworld Kitsch?,” American Society for Aesthetics, 2016, 5–9. p. 2

[20] Richard Buckle in Hugo, Nijinsky On Stage. p. 14

[21] Sarah Rubidge, “Reconstruction and Its Problems,” Dance Journal 2, no. 1 (1995).

[22] Luke Dormehl, “The World’s First Virtual Reality Ballet Experience,” Digital Trends, 2016.

Documenting Dance: The Rite of Spring

***

This post, by Adelaide ‘Ada’ Robinson, originally appeared on her blog “The Accidental Scientist“, on February 3rd, 2017. It is reposted here with permission.

The text outlines Ada’s idea to research the documentation of “The Rite of Spring” for her Independent Study module, which is part of the MA Library Science at #CityLIS.

Ada has a longstanding interest in ballet, and was inspired to combine her knowledge and enthusiasm for the art with her academic studies in library science, after attending the #docperform symposium last year.

UPDATE: 30/7/2017 Ada’s completed essay is now available Notes Made in the Theatre and in the Dark.

We also hope to encourage more dance documentation enthusiasts to join us.

You can follow Ada on Twitter @adafrobinson

***

“So what does ballet have to do with library science?”

… Is a question people have been asking me a lot over the past week. Hopefully, I’ll soon have an answer. Welcome to Independent Study: dance edition.

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The question of how to document dance first came to me at the ‘Documenting Performance’ conference, (October 31st, 2016), which had a mix of fascinating talks by speakers from both LIS and performance studies. Topics covered included theatre, live street entertainment, darkness, and dance. Since that day – as a huge ballet fan and library science student – I’ve been thinking about the idea of documenting dance more and more.

While researching Stravinsky’s ‘The Rite of Spring’ for work, I found that there are over 150 different versions of the production. Different dances, set to the same music. However, the original Ballet Russes production, choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky, has been lost. When the time came for someone to attempt a first revival of the show, they found that no-one remembered the original choreography.

russian-ballets-at-paris-001

While this might be par for the course for some ballets – I have a children’s encyclopedia (featured in the first photo above) that describes a multitude of shows lost to the ages – you would have thought that the Rite would have escaped that fate. Because on May 29th, 1913, the first performance of ‘The Rite of Spring’ ended in a riot. Stravinsky’s innovative and intense music, coupled with Nijinsky’s avant-garde choreography (depicting a human sacrifice), terrified and incensed their first audience in Paris. It was a scandal that rocked the arts world, and was possibly the most talked about performance of its time.

My first question: And no-one thought to write down the steps?

Second question: How do you even write down choreography?

This forms the beginning of my as-of-yet-untitled Independent Study. The topics I am going to cover in my research – and in weekly blog updates – will be as follows:

  • How ballet choreography is documented and passed on to companies.
  • How/why choreography etc can be ‘forgotten’.
  • What methods different choreographers have used to recreate forgotten or lost productions.
  • ‘The Rite of Spring’ as a case study.
  • Why performance studies can be useful to LIS.

fullsizerender

(The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Ballet, Horst Koegler, OUP, 1977).

I go to the ballet a lot, and I’m pretty active in the balletomane community. However, I don’t know a great deal about how choreography works and how shows are documented. I have DVDs of certain productions, but I’m still not sure on how the choreography of classic ballets survived in the pre-camera era. That will be the first question I tackle, and next week I’ll update with a short review of my findings.

I also thought it would be fun to show videos of dancers in rehearsal at the end of each post, so here is a clip from a rehearsal of Wayne McGregor’s Woolf Works, which is currently showing at the Royal Opera House. If you get a chance – go. I saw it last night and I think it’s one of the best modern ballets there is, and the score is absolutely beautiful too.

Alessandra Ferri and Federico Bonelli rehearse Woolf Works (The Royal Ballet)

On Documenting Performance and Suzanne Briet

This post was written by Tom Ash, and originally appeared on his blog ‘Adventures in Library and Information Science‘ on 28/11/16.

Tom’s reference to Toni Sant’s presentation, and indeed, Toni’s presentation per se, highlights the differences and connections between the concepts of documents, and the processes of documentation.

These terms appear straightforward in meaning, but on closer examination, prove more complex.

Briet suggests that the definition of a document may be considered from a wide conceptual basis, beyond a text, to include paintings, sculptures and even animals. The issue being whether the entity stands as ‘evidence in support of fact’.

It is widely deemed that the processes of documentation aim to record the endeavors and the outputs of humankind. To maintain ‘the record’. Documentation is about collecting, organising and interpreting the ‘evidence’ or the documents, to allow for use/reuse at a future time.

But what exactly do we mean by ‘the record’? Are there different sorts of ‘record’? Is ‘the record’ ever complete? How much ‘evidence’ is needed to form ‘the record’. Can a single ‘document’ fully represent ‘the record’?

We could consider that documents, in themselves, provide only a partial representation of an event, an idea or concept. That they only partially represent ‘the record’. Whilst the goal of documentation is to create, ideally, a complete record of an phenomenon or happening,  the work is undertaken within the context of the availabe ‘documents’. As complete a record as possible is facilitated by the instantiation, dissemination, indexing, organisation, understanding and interlinking of documents.

Ideally, one could imagine that the purpose of documentation is to create such an accurate record of an event, that the ‘reader’ (viewer, participant, audience, player), cannot distinguish between an original event and a ‘playback’ from the library or archive.

This latter experience is afforded by what I have referred to as  ‘immersive‘ documents.

There is much to consider here: how does documentation of a book, or a newspaper, differ from documentation of performance? Can we reconcile and even integrate the approaches to documentation, from LIS and performance studies?

The work of Briet, and other documentalists, is worth examination, and Tom’s thoughtful post here takes a step in that direction.

LR 29/11/2016

On 31st October #citylis hosted an fascinating event called The Future of Documents: Documenting Performance. The one day interdisciplinary symposium was intended to “bring together scholars, researchers, artists and practitioners from the disciplines of library & information science and theatre & performance, to share and consider respective conceptual views of documents, and the processes and procedures associated with documentation1

The event was ‘sold out‘ with attendees from a wide range of performance organisations as well as library and information scientists and a contingent of interested #citylis students, including myself, in the capacity of both technical support and attendee.

The event was organised by Dr Lyn Robinson and Joseph Dunne of Rose Bruford College, born out their mutual interest in the documentation of participatory experience, performance and partially-immersive, or complex documents, described by Robinson as:

“.. (these documents) provide the reader (player, participant, viewer) with a compelling and realistic world, but one which is delineated to varying extents from actual reality. The reader knows that they, and the document with which they are engaging, are a part of the real world (for want of a better phrase). This is in contrast to the experience delivered by fully immersive-document (as yet theoretical) where the reader cannot distinguish between the unreality and reality, and the interface between human and computer is invisible and frictionless.”2

The day was arranged into 3 acts or sessions. In the first session, Documents and Documentation, the focus was on how memory institutions document performance. Following on from that Exploring Performance as a Document looked at how we can document non-traditional aspects of performance. The third and final act, Beyond the Boundaries, considered what should be documented from newer forms of performance.

Performance Documents or Performance Documentation?

Following a warm welcome and introduction from Lyn and Joseph, the first session featured an excellent talk by Toni Sant, titled The Future of Documenting Performance: Plenty of Performance Documents but Not Enough Performance Documentation. Sant has a background in Performance Studies, (holding an MA and PhD from New York University) has also lectured on performance and digital technology, in Malta, New York, and most recently he has worked in the United Kingdom as Reader in Digital Curation at the University of  Hull.

In his talk Sant spoke about Documentation from a Library and Information Science perspective and referred to the work of Suzanne Briet, whose manifesto on Documentation Qu’est-ce que la documentation?, was highly influential to a number of LIS thinkers, particularly Michael Buckland, whilst earning her the nickname Madame Documentation. In talking about Performance Documentation Sant used Briet’s definition of a document as ‘evidence in support of fact’ 3 and:

“any physical or symbolic sign, preserved or recorded, intended to represent, to reconstruct, or to  demonstrate a physical or conceptual phenomenon” 

As Buckland states, in his article What is a “document?” the implication of Briet’s work is that Documentation should not be concerned solely with texts, but with access to evidence.3   Sant champions Briet’s work on documentation over those of performance studies scholars such as Peggy Phelan, who claimed in her writings that performance cannot be documented:

 “Performance’s only life is in the present. Performance cannot be saved,  recorded, documented, or otherwise participate in the circulation of representations: once it does so it becomes something other than performance”4

Sant went on to argue that documentation of performance is often an afterthought and that there is a tendency to mistake documents for documentation. Documentation he said is the process of storing and organizing documents (physical and digital)  in a systematic way to ensure long-term access.

Sant’s talk was a call to action, saying “forget Peggy Phelan” and arguing there was a need to focus less on documents and more on Documentation.

Connaissez-vous Suzanne Briet? 

Renée-Marie-Hélène-Suzanne Briet was born in Ardennes, 1 February 1894, but grew up in Paris. She was part of a generation of women who would come of age in the wake of the First World War. After spending time as a teacher, Briet began her career in Librarianship, at the Bibliothèque National in 1924, and would not only bear witness to but also influence the development of the Library profession in France as a result of its convergence with the field of Documentation. In his article Suzanne Briet:  An Appreciation Ronald E. Day claims that Briet’s vision of documents and documentation agencies:

“…constituted a revision of librarianship and a radical redefinition of what we consider to be documents.” 5

Recognising the importance of the work of the staff in the national  library, Briet wrote that it was the duty of librarians “to conserve, to catalog, to make [materials] accessible on the one hand; to orient and instruct on the other.6

Her time at the BNF coincided with a great sea of technological change, the year of her appointment (1924) saw the electrification of the 17th century Richelieu building,  she described the effect of this writing:

 “I attended the birth of electricity at the BN. . . . During winter season, and under cloudy skies, all work was impossible in the reading rooms and offices after three in the afternoon. . . . It was an unforgettable spectacle to see the green lamps burst into flower on the tables”7

Administrator Pierre-René Roland-Marcel’s efforts to modernize the services and structure of the BNF led to the creation of the Office of Documentation. In 1928 after remarking that the already ‘overburdened’ staff were struggling to answer written requests for information from the office, as it disrupted their normal activity flow, Briet was assigned responsibility for coordinating all such requests, assigning them to qualified Librarians or forwarding them onto the Office of Documentation, as necessary.8

In 1927 Briet was assigned the task of compiling a directory of special collections held across major French Libraries. At this time she was influenced by the Institute of Intellectual Co-operation (IIC) of the League of Nations, which made a number of recommendations regarding the establishment of national information centres in  national libraries. According to Naack these recommendations included:

 (1) each national library establish a “national information center” where   researchers could find out in which library or special collection the printed materials or documentation they needed would be located; (2) that the national information center be adequately funded and provided with card catalogues, printed bibliographies, biographical sources, union catalogues and directories of  special collections throughout the country; (3) that these national centers be in close contact with one another in  order to answer questions about resources within their home country and to centralize researchers’ requests for information that would need to be answered abroad.9

Over the next two years Roland-Marcel and Briet laid the foundations for such a centre at the BNF,  and developed plans for a Centre d’Orientation that would respond to requests for information from French and international researchers. From 1934 to 1954 Briet was in charge of the Salles des Catalogues et des Bibliographies, more commonly known today as Salle X.

Briet alongside chemist Jean Gérard was responsible for co-founding the Union Française des Organismes de Documentation (UFOD) in 1931, the french equivalent of  ASLIB or the American Documentation Institution.  Soon after she was tasked with surveying documentation centers across the country the results of which were published in a 1935 directory (Répertoire des centres de documentation en France).  In 1937 she attended the World Congress of Universal Documentation, in Paris, alongside other notable figures such as Paul Otlet, Henri De La Fontaine and H.G. Wells, the latter of whom gave a lecture in which he argued that his concept of the ‘world-brain‘(a form of world encylopaedia) was a precursor for the concepts under discussion at the conference.10 

In 1950 Briet became the founding director of studies for the  l’Institut National des Techniques de la Documentation, one of the oldest Library schools in France when the training programme of the UFOD was formally adopted by the prestigious  Conservatoire Nationale des Arts et Metiers. Briet herself was closely involved with the curriculum including being a teacher. The programme was spread over two years and:

“…included a general introduction to selection, acquisitions, cataloging, classification, indexing, diffusion, exploitation, and   reproduction of documents.   The second year focused on research and on documentation in the specialized fields, including the social sciences and economics as well as science and technology.”11

Following on from her interest in ‘professional education’, Briet was awarded a Fulbright grant to visit the United States from 1951 – 52, and whilst there she continued her survey of professional education. According to Maack, she also sought to understand the meaning of ‘reference work’, with a focus on technique rather than technology, and on users and reference services, rather than information retrieval.12

In 1954 at the age of 60, she took early retirement to pursue a 2nd career, as a historian, studying Rimbaud, Rimbaud’s mother and Jean, Comte de Montdejeux. When her memoirs, were  published, in 1976, she arranged them in alphabetical order, dispensing with a chronological order in favour of  presenting her recollections under key words, described by Maack as ‘idiosyncratic’.13

Briet died in Boulogne at the age of 95. When looking reflecting back upon her life and career she expressed the following as summary:

 “At the age of twenty, I had as my motto: ‘To weep perhaps, but never to hate.’ At forty it was: ‘To serve.’ At eighty it could be: ‘To return to the Spirit’ “(l’Esprit) (1976, p.30).

Pour Briet Qu’est-ce que la documentation?

Briet’s treatise on documentation which was published in 1951 by EDIT, the publishing arm of the UFOD, was not some lengthy treatise, but rather a slim volume stretching to around 37 pages long. It largely went unnoticed outside of France until the publication of Michael Buckland’s What is a Document? in 1997.

It begins with the definition of a document, not in terms of material objects such as the book that Paul Otlet, favoured, but by declaring, “Un document est une preuve à l’appui d’un fait” “A document is evidence in support of a fact.” She then provides a more detailed definition claiming that a document is:

“any concrete or symbolic indexical sign[indice], preserved or recorded towards the ends of representing, of reconstituting, or of proving a physical or intellectual phenomenon.”14

Briet’s definition, dispenses with the notion of tieing documents to a physical format and instead focuses on a wider definition of documents, giving an example as follows:

“Is a star a document? Is a pebble rolled by a torrent a document? Is a living animal a document? No. But the photographs and the catalogues of stars, the stones in a museum of mineralogy , and the animals that are cataloged and shown in a zoo, are documents.”15

Briet’s explanation of documents is that objects can be documents when placed into a system such as a taxonomy, catalogue, or indice. Most famously she claims that even an Antelope could be a document, in the circumstance of it being a newly discovered species placed inside a botanical garden:

“Let us admire the documentary fertility of a simple originary fact: for example, an antelope of a new kind has been encountered in Africa by an explorer who has succeeded in capturing an individual that is then brought back  to Europe for our Botanical Garden [Jardin de Plantes]. A press release makes the event known by newspaper, by radio, and by newsreels. The discovery becomes the topic of an announcement at the Academy of Sciences. A professor of the Museum discusses it in his courses.The living animal is placed in a cage and cataloged (zoological garden). Once it is dead, it will be stuffed and preserved (in the Musuem). It is loaned to an Exposition. It is played on a soundtrack at the cinema. Its voice recorded on a disk. The first monograph serves to establish part of a treatise with plates, then a special encyclopedia(zoological), then  general encyclopedia. The works are cataloged in a Library, after having been announced at publication…The documents that relate to this event are the object of scientific classifying (fauna) and of an ideologic [idéologique] classifying (classification). Their ultimate conservation and utilization are determined by some general techniques and by methods that apply to all documents-methods that are studied in national association and international Congresses.”16

Lastly she argues “The cataloged antelope is an initial and the other documents are secondary or derived.” By this reasoning objects such as paintings, sculpture, photographs and films are documents, and even a person being studied perhaps for scientific, medical or anthropological reasons could be described as a document. Michael Buckland, in his article about Briet’s definition argues that although she doesn’t make her rules explicit the following can be inferred about defining documents:

Briet’s rules for determining when an object has become a document are not made clear. We infer, however, from her discussion that:

1. There is materiality: Physical objects and physical signs only;

2. There is intentionality: It is intended that the object be treated as evidence;

3. The objects have to be processed: They have to be made into documents; and, we think,

4. There is a phenomenological position: The object is perceived to be a document.

This situation is reminiscent of discussions of how an image is made art by framing it as art. Did Briet mean that just as “art” is made art by “framing” (i.e. treating) it as art, so an object becomes a “document” when it is treated as a document, i.e. as a physical or symbolic sign, preserved or recorded, intended to represent, to reconstruct, or to demonstrate a physical or conceptual phenomenon?17

Wild Antelopes

Returning to performance and performance documentation, we must ask what can Briet’s rules and Buckland’s interpretation of them tell us about how we document performance? Taking the rules as defined above the performance itself is not a document, any more than a wild antelope running around the plains of Africa, but writings, photographs, sound recordings and so forth of the performance can be considered documents. And these documents can, it could be said, in the spirit of Briet’s original assertion, be considered as the “evidence in support of fact” that the performance exists or took place in that they are “intended to represent, to reconstruct, or to  demonstrate a physical or conceptual phenomenon”.

 – Fin –

References

  1. Robinson, L. (2016 )Documenting Performance: the backstory.
  2. ibid
  3. Buckland, M.K. (1997)”What Is a “Document”?”, Journal of the American Society for Information Science 48(9) pp. 804-809.
  4. Phelan, P. (2003) Unmarked : The Politics of Performance (1), Routledge, Florence, US. Available from: ProQuest ebrary. p.146
  5. Day, R, E. (2006) Suzanne Briet:  An Appreciation.  Bulletin December 2006/ January 2007
  6. Maack, M. N. (2004) The Lady and the Antelope: Suzanne Briet’s Contribution to the French Documentation Movement. Library Trends 52(4): 719-747 
  7. Briet 1976:66 in Maack 2004
  8. Maack
  9. ibid
  10. World Congress of Universal Documentation En.wikipedia.org. (2016). World Congress of Universal Documentation

  11. Maack

  12. ibid
  13. Briet, S. 1976 l’Esprit 1976, p.30 In Maack 2004
  14. Briet, S 1951 p.10 in Briet, S., Day, R. E., Martinet, L., & Anghelescu, H., G., B. (2006). What is documentation? : English translation of the classic French text. Scarecrow Press.
  15. ibid
  16. ibid
  17. Buckland, M.K. (1997)”What Is a “Document”?”, Journal of the American Society for Information Science 48(9) pp. 804-809.

Further reading

How do we document performance?


This post is by Louise Wallace, who attended our Symposium on Documenting Performance on 31/10/16. Here Louise writes about the presentations, and the concepts of ‘whose point of view’, and ‘who for’, in respect to documentation. This post first appeared on Louise’s blog (a library odyssey) on November 6th.

On Monday I attended a symposium at City, called ‘The Future of Documents: documenting performance’. As both a library school student and someone with an embarrasingly large collection of theatre programmes and tickets, this was bound to be a fascinating and enjoyable event! The day left me with a lot to think about, especially the different ways in which we document performance, whose point of view we are documenting, and who we are doing it for.

The first speaker of the day was Toni Sant, and he called for a focus on “documentation” rather than just “documents”. I think that for me this means thinking about the purpose of documentation and what future users will get from it, rather than being dismissive of traditional “documents” themselves.

What we might think of as traditional documents related to performing arts are scripts, programmes, posters, photographs, technical plans, designs, reviews and articles. Liz Harper told us about her work at the Royal Albert Hall, and how their archives are used for education and promotion. A wonderful example of this is the mural by Peter Blake, composed of photos of performers drawn from the archive, which now adorns the entrance hall.

Interactive version and quiz of the Peter Blake mural: http://appearing.royalalberthall.com/

It was exciting to hear from Jenny Fewster about the development of AusStage, a database of performing art events, venues and resources in Australia. Ramona Riedzewski from the V&A spoke about their collaboration, using AusStage as a basis for creating a database for UK performing arts. An “IMDB for the performing arts” sounds like it would be a fantastic resource for researchers, professionals and enthusiasts alike!

Video is another way of documenting performance, normally from the point of view of the audience. Archival videos are often filmed with a single static camera, such as those filmed for the National Video Archive of Performance held at the V&A, or for the British Library’s collection. Other, multi-camera recordings are made for commercial use, such as for National Theatre Live or Digital Theatre. Stacie Lee Bennett spoke about the use of hand-held cameras and GoPros in developing training resources for actors and dancers, using the camera to capture the performer’s perspective. GoPros were also suggested as a way of creating an immersive experience of a perfomance, with multiple possible viewpoints.

Sound recordings are also used as a way of documenting performance. Eva del Rey spoke about the British Library’s Drama and Literature recordings, which include gems such as the only known recordings of James Joyce’s voice (reading from Ulysses), as well as oral histories and audio recordings of live performances. The BL’s ‘Save Our Sounds’ project highlights the problem of format obsolescence and degredation (or “plastic-rot”) which affects archives such as these.

Listen to James Joyce reading from Ulysses: http://blogs.bl.uk/english-and-drama/2013/04/james-joyce-on-record.html

Audio recordings can be a better choice for documenting performance, as Yaron Shyldkrot demonstrated in his paper about theatre in the dark. In this case, there is a focus on the atmosphere of anxiety and isolation created by being in complete darkness. This feeling can be recreated more effectively using sound and headphones, rather than trying to film or photograph the performers.

It was great to hear about documenting another aspect of performance when Hansjorg Schmidt spoke about The Library of Light. I think it is exciting to explore the different ways of documentation that are possible, for example the use of network technologies, as explored by Zeta Kolokythopoulou in her presentation. She described the use of livestreaming and Twitter in Forced Entertainment’s Speak Bitterness, which encouraged audience members all over the world to partipate with their own contributions using the hashtag #FESpeaklive.

Article by Time Etchells of Forced Entertainment about Speak Bitterness: https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/oct/16/speak-bitterness-confessions-forced-entertainment-live-stream-tim-etchells

An interesting comment came from an attendee, suggesting that we should not dismiss the effectiveness of a paper document over current trends for video and technology, for example the prompt book (a master copy of the script, annotated with the actors’ moves and technical cues), which may be a better record of a complex performance. It is important to think about who we are documenting performance for and what future users will want to get from it, whether it is the perfomers or companies themselves, audience or researchers, or all of the above.

The question of whether a performance can ever be truly documented, or if it is a unique live experience that cannot be captured is an interesting and, I expect, eternal one. However, the importance of the documention that is possible cannot be ignored, as was demonstrated by the breadth of possibilities explored at this event. I would like to thank all of the speakers, and I am sorry that I have not managed to mention every one in this post!

See the full programme and abstracts here.

The event on Storify.

APAC (Association of Performing Arts Collections): http://www.performingartscollections.org.uk/

Left in Sehgal’s darkness


This post is by  James Hobbs, who attended our Symposium about Documenting Performance on 31st October 2016. Here James reflects on the session presented by Yaron Shyldkrot, Documenting Darkness. This post originally appeared on James’ blog on November 4th 2016.

Left in Sehgal’s darkness

When the Berlin-based artist Tino Sehgal has a new exhibition, it can be hard to find out what is going to take place. He forbids any of the normal digital or paper trails of exhibition marketing and publicity: there are no videos of the work, no catalogues or wall texts. Even contracts with the exhibition organisers are verbal only.

Sehgal’s name came was mentioned in The Future of Documents: Documenting Performance, a symposium at City, University of London on 31 October 2016. Yaron Shyldkrot, who is working on a PhD at the University of Surrey, was talking about documenting darkness in theatre and dance, and the disorientation and uncertainty it creates for viewers. “You can’t be in the same picture as the dark,” as the writer and performer Chris Goode puts it. Sehgal has used darkness in some past works, which usually involve performers interacting spontaneously with spectators, leaving no physical residue once they are finished.

documentingperformance

Yaron Shyldkrot presenting at #docperform 31/10/16 by James Hobbs

The darkness of Sehgal’s non-documentary approach shone out for me during the day. It is an approach that “minimises discourse to maximise the experience”, the curator of his new show at the Palais de Tokyo in Paris says. The question of just who performances are being documented for was a recurring question through the day of the symposium. While many performers, choreographers and archivists recognise the importance of retaining at least some tangible form of memory of a fleeting moment, Sehgal turns that on its head, leaving us, metaphorically and sometimes literally, in the dark.

This way of working, it seems to me, is less about the artist leaving documented legacy (his approach is very well documented, if not his work), and more about his anti-market views and myth constructing. (Would he be as well known if he did allow his work to be documented?) But even in our age of the ubiquitous camera, he encourages us to focus on the moment of the performance rather than see it through a lens or discuss it to oblivion. And it certainly frees up time for archivists to get on with other things.

It was a great thought-provoking day – thanks to Lyn Robinson and Joseph Dunne for organising it.

Documenting Performance: a personal journey

This post is by my co-organiser and colleague, Joseph Dunne. Here, he writes on the origins and development of his interest in documention of performance, and our shared research focus on the emergence of immersive documents.

Joe is on Twitter as @MemoryDetritus

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My interest in documenting performances and performance processes, and its links with LIS, can be traced back to when I was the research assistant on the CEDAR Project at UEL. CEDAR (Clustering and Enhancing Digital Archives for Research) used the East London Theatre Archive as a case study of how digitized theatre ephemera could be integrated into teaching and learning activities. A significant part of my job was to consult students, archivists, academics and theatre-makers in order to design a new online archive for use as a theatre-making tool and resource for historical research.

As I began my reading on theatre’s rather fraught relationship with archives, I soon began questioning the criteria I used to distinguish live performance from other art forms. Peggy Phelan’s infamous assertion that “performance… becomes itself of disappearance” (Unmarked, 1993, p.146) felt instinctively correct but troublingly essentialist. What of performance’s material remains? Are costumes, sets, props, even spaces, adjuncts to the “itself” of performance? Even if we accept these materials do not constitute the body-to-body transmission performance entails, is memory constitutive of non-live experience?

After CEDAR concluded I wrote the Performing the Archive module with Conan Lawrence at UEL. It was something of a hybrid course: we created exercises out of bits of archival theory, history, autobiographical performance, psychogeography, and of course theatre practice. We wanted the students to start seeing the archive as a fecund creative resource rather than a dusty collection. The big challenge was to give them what we called “ownership” over the archival material they were working with. I now understand this to be almost a permission to interpret artefacts in ways that did not have to conform to standard methods of historical analyses.

I remain drawn to Pearson’s and Shanks’s description of the archaeologist as an “active agent of interpretation” (2001, p. 11) for its implicative image of the past as a metamorphic, unstable object of study. A record of a performance does not, in this schema, represent past acts but is a durable fragment of the event itself. Any material borne out of the event could then act as a way of stretching a performance outside of the temporal-spatial live zone. Moreover, archival documents could allow a performance to become part of distributed mode of practice where many agents could participate in the evolving interpretation of the original by using the documents as the genesis of new practices.

These topics acted as point of departure for my practice research PhD Regenerating the Live: The Archive as the Genesis of a Performance Practice. I investigated how a dramaturgy based on some of the key principles of archivalism – preserving artefacts for knowledges to be generated in the future – could become the basis of a participatory dramaturgy. I lead workshops where groups documented sites and then translated the resultant documents into performance scores. I combined my practice-based investigations with my theoretical research in the audio-walk Voices from the Village.

Like Lyn, I am fascinated by the capacity sci-fi and speculative fiction has to teach us how to read the present. JG Ballard’s last novel Kingdom Come is set in the fictional motorway town of Brooklands. In the centre sits the mighty mega mall, The Metro Centre. Ballard describes Brooklands as “an end state of consumerism” where “[h]istory and tradition, the slow death by suffocation of an older Britain, played no part in its people’s lives. They lived in an eternal retail present, where the deepest moral decision concerned the purchase of a refrigerator or washing machine” (2006. p.8). Ballard could be describing the Athlete’s Village in Stratford, save for the fact that it’s history begins in 2012. More precisely, at the Olympic Games. I became fascinated by what the Olympic Legacy entailed for the residents of the host boroughs. In my audio-walk Voices from the Village participants were taken on an initiation process to see if they could become a legacy-maker. In the last act they are guided by the Documenter who shows them the future of Hackney Wick.

Both the sites and the audio recordings were documents transmitting knowledge of a time and place that combined the fictive and the real. Immersive documents are not so much as read as participated in. The promise of participation filters through today’s digital landscape, but what is it we are participating in? It feels like more than an absorption of information and more like a joint act of interpreting metamorphic knowledge.

What does this do to our perception of reality? And what possibilities does this yield for performances of the future when the lines between creator and spectator are impossible to define?

 

Documenting Performance: the backstory

There are now just two weeks to go until ‘Documenting Performance’, our exploratory, interdisciplinary symposium on the concept of performance as a document, and the ideas, theories and practices around the documentation of performance. We are hoping that our initial event will spark further interest to form a longer term project, which we are calling DocPerform.

My initial feelings are positive, as for this event, both the response to our call for papers (27 abstracts, and I had to turn another couple away after the deadline) and the number of registered attendees (75) has been stunning. The event is now sold out, but we are running a wait-list so please email me [lyn@city.ac.uk] if you would like to come but have been unable to secure a ticket. If you are holding a ticket that you know you will not use, please cancel via Eventbrite, so someone else can join us.

We would like to say a very big ‘thank you!’ to everyone who has sent us ideas, and registered for the event. It was hard to make a choice about which papers to include, but I hope that everyone will agree that our Programme, showing the range of approaches to how we currently understand performance as a document, is pretty good! We are very excited about the day, and look forward to meeting new colleagues interested in documents and documentation.

My original idea was to host a series of seminars within our research centre, (Centre for Information Science) to examine how the conceptual view of the document is developing in the 21st century. The question of what is / is not a document is considered in work of Otlet, La Fontaine, Briet, Buckland, Lund, Latham, Gorichanaz, Robinson and other writers within the field of library and information science, with the earliest papers having been  written at the start of the 20th century.  The obvious and fascinating question would be ‘what next’? I subsequently felt, however, that it would be helpful to take a step back, and to consider whether any unifying perspective could be applied to the increasing number of entities already extant upon the documentary landscape. Such a framework would be valuable to any discipline concerned with the organisation and preservation of its domain output, and could also be used to help formulate understanding of future document types, real or conceptual.

My working draft of such a framework is shown at the end of this post. Several colleagues contributed to my ideas, and I would like to mention them briefly as part of the background to our forthcoming event.

When my friend and colleague Prof Adrian Cheok joined City for a brief period, a few years ago, I was inspired by his work on the multisensory internet, (transmitting the sensations of taste, smell and touch in addition to sound and vision via the network), and this, plus developments in pervasive computing, wearable technology, human-computer interfaces and virtual reality, brought to mind the idea of the library as the ‘Experience Parlour’. I came across this idea in The Library of the Future, a book by Bruce Shuman, written in 1989. In his series of scenarios for the future library, he suggested one where reading a good book meant actually living, or experiencing it. I wondered if this form of immersive document was one possible future for documents, and consequently for libraries and other cultural, collection orientated institutions.

Whilst science fiction provides us with many depictions of immersive documents, (for example the holosuite in the Star Trek universe), at the present time fully-immersive documents, wherein the reader perceives a scripted unreality as reality, do not exist. However, many of the entities to which we refer as documents offer the reader a partially-immersive, or complex, experience. These documents provide the reader (broadly interpreted to include related terms player, participant, viewer, audience member) with a compelling and realistic world, but one which is delineated to varying extents from actual reality. The reader knows that they, and the document with which they are engaging, are a part of the real world (for want of a better phrase). This is in contrast to the experience delivered by fully immersive-document (as yet theoretical) where the reader cannot distinguish between the unreality and reality, and the interface between human and computer is invisible and frictionless.

A series of encounters over the past 3 years provided insight for developing a framework to help us understand what partially-immersive documents might be, and how they could relate to other documents.

Videogames

In June 2014, Adrian invited me to a seminar on the history of video games at the Daiwa Foundation. The enthusiasm with which players spoke of their interaction with early games indicated how strongly they identified with and enjoyed the ‘unreal’ worlds of the game. Whilst some games offered realistic environments, others offered clearly computer-generated spaces, yet the players still engaged time after time. Video games are an example of partially-immersive documents. They provide the ‘reader’ with a compelling world, but one which is clearly separate from reality. Even the most enthusiastic player knows the game world is constructed.

The playing of historical games was not the only point for consideration during the seminar; the issue of preservation was paramount, and discussion turned towards which characteristics of the games needed to be preserved. The list went beyond saving a copy of the software (computer program), conservation of its associated hardware or simulations of now-extinct computer operating environments, to ensuring that feelings, such as elation, despair, desire to win, anxiety, happiness or nostalgia, all possibly experienced by the player during the game, could also be guaranteed. The question then became more complex; are we attempting to preserve an historical game to be played afresh in a contemporary time, or are we attempting to preserve something more, by including something of the past environment, and even the experience/feelings of the player or players?

So, if we intend to record and preserve ‘experience or feelings’, do we mean that we are attempting to ensure that (re)playing the preserved game will generate the same sorts of feelings that were invoked generally in previous times, (when socio-cultural norms may have been very different) or are we attempting to reconstruct individual experiences of a game, exactly as they happened on a previous occasion, so that somehow the players or readers feel exactly the same as they did during a previous, specific occasion (for example the excitment of completing a level, or of a winning goal). If this latter reconstruction were technologically possible, it should also be possible to experience a game from the viewpoint of someone else, by replaying (and experiencing) their memory track, alongside the game timeline.

Experience is hard to define, and even harder to code for access and reuse. This level of enhancement to partially-immersive documents remains theoretical, but it is possible to imagine that a layer of ‘experience’, general or personal,  could be added to complex, or partially-immersive document formats. The concept of adding experience or feelings to a document, or record of a document (documentation), introduces the need for us to consider who the document or documentation is for. Whose point of view are we recording? Who are we thinking will access and use the record? In theory, a record could be made of every individual experience of every individual document, including the perspective creator(s) or author(s).

These concepts are reflected in recent developments in journalism, where 360 degree recording is used to film documentaries. The realistic, ‘immersive’ nature of these films enhances emphathy from the viewer, evoking feelings similar to those felt by those present at the time the recorded events took place.  See: Virtual Reality, 360 Video and the Future of Immersive Journalism, by Zillah Watson, 1st July 2015.

At this stage then, we have the concept that video games, or simple copies of video games are partially-immersive documents,  but that complex copies or recordings could also offer an additional layer of general ambience/sentiment, or personally specific thoughts and feelings. These enhanced copies, also partially-immersive documents, would be considered new documents in their own right, although associated with the original video game.

Interactive Narratives

At around the same time that I encountered the video games enthusiasts, I became aware of the convergence of video games with interactive fiction. These latter digital documents, which increased in popularity and number with the ready availability of consumer technologies such as smart phones and tablets, attempt to engage the reader by allowing input to, or participation in, the script. They offer interactive engagement across a range of platforms, and can reach out to the reader via texts, emails and phone-calls. Innovative software such as that which reads emotion from facial expressions can be used to tailor interactive fiction to the individual reader. The difference between an interactive fiction and a game is hard to specify, although one distinction I came across suggested that although many games have a narrative aspect to them, this is not required.

Interactive fictions are also partially-immersive documents, proferring experiences which are distinguishable from reality, yet which offer varying degrees of participation and immersion in compelling, unreal worlds. Like the worlds of video games, interactive narratives could be recorded with the intent to evoke time, place or other context specific feelings, or indeed the feelings or experiences from a given player at a given instance.

Documentation

Technologies which underpin partially-immersive (and perhaps eventually fully-immersive) documents such as video games and interactive fictions, can also be used to record, archive and preserve them. The most straightforward way to think of this is when making a copy of the unused software. In some ways, identical copies of video games or interactive fictions can be considered as documents which are the same as the originals; compare with FRBR‘s ‘manifestation’ level for books, where the copies differ only at ‘item’ level. If we are thinking, however, also to record the ‘experience’ of the player or ‘readers’, then in the addition of layers of information to the original computer programs we may be creating related, yet new documents. Documents which contain a level of immersion, (experience, feelings) associated with a given time or place, or reader, player, or creator.

Video games and interactive narratives can be considered to possess temporality. They arguably exist only whilst they are being ‘read’ or ‘played’. There is the question of whether the video game or the interactive narrative exists because its computer program is present on some kind of storage media, or whether it only exists when being played.

In contrast, a book or paper (probably also an audio record, or work of art), may be considered to exist as long as its physical form is extant, irrespective of whether or not someone is ‘reading’ it.  Yet we should also consider electronic books, digital audio files and digital art. Is ‘bookness’ then, a separate characteristic from representative media? Does a physical book only exist if someone is reading it? This is not a usual interpretation of a book, nor of a record or work of art. But the idea is important, firstly that the work exists as a separate entity from the physical, document-container, and secondly that thoughts, experience and memories can be added as an extra layer, at least theoretically. These additions then forge a new, albeit related, document.

If we consider then, that as a book is read by a reader, the reader is to some extent immersed in the book, the experience, thoughts and memories of the reader could, in theory, be recorded and stored in some format. Thus documents which we think of as physical or analogue can offer an immersive dimension,  although the participatory level would be considered rather less than that offered by a video game or interactive fiction. ‘Choose your own ending’ fictions might be considered to offer the most participation, for what we usually understand as a book.

The concept of analogue documents, in the spectrum leading to digital, partially-immersive and immersive documents is important, and needs to be part of any framework for understanding partially-immersive and immersive documents.

Immersive Theatre

The increasing popularity in London and other cities for immersive and participatory theatre brought performance to out attention, and to the mix of partially-immersive documents.

Performances proffer parallels with video games and interactive narratives, as they only exist for a given amount of time, and unless one counts their documentary containers, such as the written script, or computer programme and data records, they are intangible forms of document. With some similarities to a computer game or narrative, a performance can be replayed endlessly, as long as the performers are willing. The performance is experienced afresh each time, by new ‘readers’. However, like video games and interactive narratives, a performance can offer varying degrees of participation, and feelings of immersion. The memories and experience of a performance can be recorded and archived, from whatever viewpoint.

Several of my students were/are fans of immersive theatre, attending shows such as Punchdrunk’s ‘The Drowned Man’ and Thomas Otway’s ‘Venice Preserv’d’ several times over. I was invited to go along to a performance of Venice Preserv’d’ where I witnessed first hand the desire of the audience to participate in the show; they readily and willingly suspended reality to a significant extent. Again I thought of documentation, and how a performance could be regarded as a document being ‘read’ by the audience. To some extent, all performance is interactive/participatory, as the audience is reacting internally to the show even if they are sitting as passive observers. Some performance, however, offers the audience higher levels of interactivity, from singing along with the cast, to joining the actors for part of the show, and participating in the performance. Varying degrees  of participation in temporal events, also offered by video games and interactive fiction, are traits of partial-immersion, and a performance could therefore also be considered as a partially-immersive document. The boundaries of ‘what is a performance’ is a valuable discussion, but left for another occasion.

In the case of  performance, this raises the (unoriginal) question, that if the performance itself is a document, is documentation (recording) of a performance yet another document? And a further, also unoriginal question, does the documentation intended to reconstruct a performance actually create yet another performance? Would it be possible to recreat exactly a performance from the viewpoint of a ‘reader’ or audience member, in the same way as for recreating the exact experience of playing a video game at a particular time and place? We can consider too, the recording of a performance from the perspective of the creator, or of a performer.

When preserving or recording a performance then, are we documenting just the performance per se, or also the thoughts, feelings, and interactions of members of the audience? Should we attempt to garner something from the actors in each performance to improve the validity of the record? A performance is clearly more than something that can be represented by a script, photographs or a video recording. It is necessary, when documenting performance, to say something about temporality and participation (new to me, but of course unoriginal from other disciplinary viewpoints). We must distinguish between a record of somthing which is intended to be experienced for the first time by a reader, and a record which includes something of how it felt to have participated on a previous occasion. The embedding of thoughts and feelings within any sort of document has yet to be fully explored concepetually, as well as technologically.

Fandom

In September 2013, Ludi Price joined the Centre for Information Science as my research student, beginning her PhD on the information behaviour of cult media fans. Our work lead me to appreciate and consider the art of cosplay as a kind of performance, and thus a form of partially-immersive document. Clearly, there are links between cosplay and participatory theatre, and the question of should anything of this be documented, and if so how, appeared again.

Dance

Adrian invited Ludi and I to a talk he had arranged by the artist Choi Ka Fai, who was interested in recording patterns of the electrical signals which generate muscle contractions (is the body itself the apparatus for remembering cultural processes?). His idea was to attempt to record the movement of dancers, and to play them back on another dancer, to see if movement could be recorded and transmitted. If this were ever possible, it would allow one person to almost become another, experiencing not just a recording of a performance, but what it felt like to be part of it. This could in theory be one of the experiential layers added to the concept of the immersive or complex document, but the work so far remains experimental.

Immersive Documents

By this time, I had published two short papers on the concept of the multisensory, immersive document. Sarah Rubidge, Professor Emerita (Dance) at University of Chichester, came across these papers and subsequently contacted me. Sarah had been developing immersive, choreographic installations for two decades, and was interested in how to document such participatory experiential works beyond using words and photographs. Sarah’s ideas of using 360 degree camera recording or virtual reality to represent these forms of performance art were similar to my own ideas; that technologies such as VR, together with multisensory rather than merely multimedia recording, might allow us to more accurately document the experiential nature of performance and related works for future scholars, students and historians.

For the moment however, the work remains conceptual, as although 360 degree recording improves the visual experience of the record, multisensory recording, especially that related to the sensation of movement, is in its infancy.

Clearly if we could make a complete, multisensory recording of a performance, the recorded document could be read either to experience the work for the first time, or to experience it again as either yourself on a previous occasion, or as someone else.

Sarah also suggested that I attend the Digital Echoes Symposium at C-DaRE, the dance research group at Coventry University. Here I met several dancers and researchers, who were interested in the documentation and archiving of dance. One of these participants was PhD researcher Rebecca Stancliffe, who introduced me to a project called Synchronous Objects, where dance movements were converted into data, then into other objects for visual representation. Rebecca had found the work of Paul Otlet, and was working on the concept of what is a document from the discipline of dance, totally unrelated to LIS. The day was fascinating, and I learnt about new things to document, such as body memory, in addition to audience recollections and dancer insights. The way dancers perceive a performance, their work, is totally different from how traditional documentalists think of it.

Performance Art

Over the summer of 2016, I attended a course at the Tate Modern on Framing the Performance, led by Georgina Guy. Georgina led the class for four, weekly sessions, in which a group of us considered how Tate had displayed and documented a range of performance art installations. We were invited as a class to consider what we needed to know about a work, in order to store, archive, preserve, access, use and ultimately understand it. A fascinating field.

Data

My most recent encounter with partially-immersive documents came as I was preparing for one of my own classes, a session for a module called Data Information Technologies and Applications. The theme was data. In thinking about how to demonstrate data, I came across several artists whose work used a data input to bring into being a constantly changing visual artwork. See for example: http://www.worldprocessor.com/ . Participation then, does not only imply human input, but also that of data.

Interdisciplinarity

Alongside all of this, I undertook some further literature reviews, looking for work relating to documents, and documentation of performance, but from outside the LIS discipline. There was plenty. Performance artists from all fields, theatre, dance, music, performance art, were all represented in the literature on documenting performance. All these previously unimagined colleagues working on documents and documentation from a completely different background to LIS. I started to think about an event to bring the two cohorts together. On mentioning my interest to a friend, Tia Siddiqui, she put me in touch with a colleague of hers, from Rose Bruford college, Joseph Dunne, who had a background in performance, but who was also interested in documentation. I told Joe my idea of a symposium for both LIS and Theatre and Performance advocates, to share ideas on how performance can be regarded as a document, and how we can best record and preserve such partially-immersive entities for reuse if and whenever necessary.

Joe agreed to work with me on the idea, and our first collaborative outcome is this symposium ‘Documenting Performance’. The event sits within the wider consideration of the document by researchers at the Centre for Information Science, and specifically considers performance, although that is not to say video games, interactive fiction and other examples of partially-immersive documents such as performance art or information art do not warrant attention, but perhaps for another day.

Pulling all of these threads together, I think we can understand a partially-immersive document as one which affords the reader a compelling and engaging environment, for which the boundaries between reality and the imaginery, scripted world are blurred. These documents offer the reader a level of immersion and of participation. Such documents present in varied media formats, and some of their characteristics may overlap with those of fully-immersive documents. Partially-immersive documents are interesting, because they already exist, and because of the questions they raise in respect of description and indexing, recording, access, preservation and use. They push at the boundaries of traditional documentation and demand that we reconsider our definition of documents in the age of VR, AR and mixed reality. Documentalists need to embrace the characteristics of participation and experience in our work, if we wish to fully maintain the 21st century record of humanity.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of performance as a document is the capture and recording of the thoughts and feelings of those participating, whether as reader, (audience member), performer or creator, alongside the more usual physical representations such as a script, or a video. Understanding and rendering of this immersive/participatory layer is arguably what will allow us to move forward in the documentation of performance, in that it will move us closer to the construct of an acutal performance from a given viewpoint, so that we can offer a reader a more perfect copy of an original experience.

A (Draft) Unifying Perspective for Documents

It is perhaps helpful at this stage to construct a unifying perspective which includes all documents, encompassing also those which are neither partially- nor fully-immersive. I think we need two further categories: physical/analogue documents, and digital documents. The latter category being comprised of counterparts to the physical entities, and also of born-digital works.

As a starting point for discussion, we now have a unifying framework comprising four categories of documents:

physical/analogue

digital

partially-immersive/complex

fully-immersive

Exact definitions of these categories, and the identification of any overlaps or non-sensical implications needs further work. It is likely that the definitive placement of a given type of document within any given category will be problematic, as the interpretation of a document type will suject to context and viewpoint.

At first glance, the main categories seem self-evident. We can, for example, notice two main, straightforward ways in which physical or digital documents may be differentiated from paritally-immersive or immersive works.

Firstly, they are stable documents which do not change. That is, that a physical book remains the same book over time, as does a digital text, or artwork. No input or participation from the reader is anticipated, or even possible, so the work remains as it was originally created, unaffected by input or participative interaction.

Secondly, physcial/analogue or digital documents do not possess temporal characteristics, apart from those associated with the natural decay which affects all material objects. In contrast to a performance or an exhibition for example, which reach an end point beyond which, arguably, they no longer exist.

The straightforward delineation between the categories of documents becomes subtly problematic however, if we think more closely about the concepts implied by the axes of characterisation. Although the book (physical or digital) demands no active participation, are we not participating by the mere act of reading and construction of the bookish world in our minds? When we refer to a document as a physical entity, are we not implying the container, in contrast to the idea, the informational content, or the ‘bookness’?

Consider also temporality. Is it possible, for example, that the interpretation of a text changes as the reader ages? Is the document or painting encountered as a child the same as that encountered by the same person, but in adult life?

Whilst further thought is necessary, we can suggest that within each of the four categories of documents,  further characterisation can be made by placing every document at a point along each of four axes:

temporality: the document exists for a limited time

tangibility: the extent to which the document has a material form

degree of input or participation required: the extent to which interaction is afforded

immersion: the extent to which reality is suspended

The exact understanding of, and the scale or values for these axes are as yet undefined. How does participation relate to immersion? One can surely be immersed in a document, whilst remaining un-participative. There is unquesionably more work to be done to understand the nature of documents and the processes of documentation, and the draft framework above is suggested as a tool with which we can  elucidate and explore concepts at a more specific level.

DocPerform

This symposium, focusing on performance, is a part of this work. It is the first of the documentation events at City, although it has grown into a collaborative event, somewhat larger than I originally envisaged.

The symposium is divided into three sessions. Firstly, we look at some existing projects in key memory institutions. Secondly, we examine less traditional aspects of performance which we could try to document, and finally we consider some newer types of performance and ways to understand what we should be documenting. We hope that you enjoy the day, and that it will encourage learning and cooperation from both fields of LIS and Theatre and Performance.

Note: This post was updated on 9/1/17 by LR