Autrui dans le monde des vivants
Performativité de karunâ
Schechner, la Compassion comme rasa au théâtre
La compassion (karunâ) est l'un des rasa (états affectifs) dans la théorie des émotions qui commande en particulier l'art du théâtre (Nâtyasâstra). Cette approche de la Compassion dans le cadre des Performance Studies contemporaines est l'une des voies les plus originales que nous puissions emprunter dans notre enquête sur Autrui dans le mondes des vivants.
NS_chap6_76-78_unni.pdf — Définition du rasa Karunâ dans le Nâtyasâstra, VI.76-78.
Sur la notion et le terme technique de Théâtralité:
Sur la polysémie du mot Rasa («suc physiologique» autant qu'«émotion esthétique»):
http://ehess.philosophindia.fr/inde/theatralite/le-theatre-et-la-danse/le-mot-rasa.html
Car nos rapports avec Autrui, tels qu'ils sont élaborés dans les traditions savantes de la littérature et des arts vivants dans l'Inde, prennent la forme de ce que nous appelons aujourd'hui la Théâtralité. Mais il convient de retirer à ce mot toutes ses connotations négatives ou péjoratives. La Théâtralité, c'est une manière spécifique d'être au monde, dans le monde de la Mâyâ (qui est un théâtre des Illusions vivantes). Il convient aussi de reconnaître les deux dimensions principales de la théâtralité: d'une part le Corps vivant in performance, et c'est ce que l'on étudie le plus souvent dans l'anthropologie des arts vivants, mais d'autre part le rapport à Autrui comme partenaire sur le grand théâtre de la vie. La théâtralité — gestuelle codifiée, emploi des masques ou maquillages, etc. — est une mise en scène de la présence d'Autrui dans le monde des vivants.
schechner_rasaesthetics.pdf — Richard Schechner, Rasaesthetics, TDR (1988-), Vol. 45, No. 3 (Autumn, 2001), pp. 27–50.
(41) A Blanche Dubois played with karuna (grief and compassion) as her baseline would be very different than a Blanche played with raudra (rage) or bhayanaka (fear) as the baseline. She would have a different breath, a different voice, a different body, and these details of her characterization would affect the tone of the entire character interpretation.
(45) Experience Rasaboxes — Paula Murray Cole
I'd like to describe what it feels like to experience the rasas as we explore them in the Rasaboxes exercise and apply them in our rehearsals and performances. First, however, let me help you to understand what a rasa experience feels like by relating something that recently happened to me.
Not long ago, I spent a week and a half studying the therapeutic uses of essential oils. As part of an introductory exercise, our class was asked to experience and respond to the smell and effects of various oils; to notice what parts of our bodies were most affected by each oil; what memories, images, or associations were evoked; and to guess each oil's therapeutic uses. During the exercise, I observed the expressions on the faces and bodies of my classmates as they related to each oil. I noticed that their responses were immediate and extremely physical. Robert took a whiff of German chamomile, a heavy dark blue oil, and was instantly, violently repulsed. His body jolted and jumped backward, his face contorted with disgust. "Auggghhhkk," he exhaled as he spat. He quickly replaced the cap on the bottle and put it far from his body. Steve uncapped the rosemary and his body and face widened, his spine lengthened, his breathing became large and even. "Wow," he said, and he reported that he felt stimulated, powerful, energized. We took turns smelling the substances. After about five minutes, the oils' essences were not only contained inside each bottle, but had diffused throughout the room, transfusing into our bodies and affecting our psychophysiology.
So it is with rasa. Rasa means "essence," and that essence has the power to move us, to transform and shape our responses. It comes from outside our bodies, is smelled, tasted, ingested. Its particular properties change us, transform our chemistry and shape our psychophysical expressive behavior.
In 1999, I played Ofelia in the East Coast Artists' production of Hamlet, directed by Richard Schechner at the Performing Garage in New York. I often used the rasa karuna (grief/anguish/compassion). Here's a description from my rehearsal notes about what it felt like to experience karuna:
I breathe in karuna, taste it, smell it. [...] My body folds on the first long exhale as my knees sink to the ground, my belly tightens and rounds my spine / my throat tightens / my breath heaves / my head bows [...]. One hand reaches up to cover my eyes while the other supports the rest of my weight as it drops further into the floor. I breathe in the karuna that is all around me. I sink into the feeling, my eyes well up with tears. I want to surrender my breath to the openness and expanding relief that sounding this pain would bring. [ ...] I tighten and fight against that feeling of vulnerability and exposure. The sound squeezes out anyway, a high keening noise. I breathea gain and my mind riflest hrought he baggageo f remembereadn d createda ssociationIs have with this feeling: A muscle memory? An emotional imprint? I can see the image of mysef here on the floor. Then I see myself set out on the ice floe. [...] Then mourning the death of my father.
Now I am playing a bit of Ofelia's "mad scene":
The tears stream, I seek relief by crouching closer to the floor, squeezing my guts [boyaux] trying to support an insupportable sorrow. [...] The experience is as if it were happening to me, karuna is moving me according to its demands. I am not taking myself on an intellectual journey through my own personal psychology, to remember a time when I felt a similar feeling, though those memories may surface while I am working. I am simply and completely connecting with the rasa, working in relationship to the rasa, from the outside until it is the inside and back again.