TDR Comment: Of Sugarcoating and Hope

Theatre and performance scholars in the U.S. are an optimistic bunch. We are fond of concluding our analyses with a happy ending, in which we celebrate, or at least comment upon, humanity's capacity to create despite the various forces of oppression/exploitation/terror in which that particular group of humanity is caught. Even when we focus upon particularly formidable structures of domination, we can usually discern ruptures and slippages in which marginalized voices and alternative agendas are at least momentarily articulated. Although we have learned to be more nuanced in our theorization of resistance through a greater understanding of how margins and centers are interdependent, we still cherish those powerful moments of performance in which the margins triumph and the centers are destabilized. Inspired by these glimpses that we have been privileged to witness, we write passionately and persuasively about hope. We imagine alternatives with a vengeance.

Other disciplines are getting the message. Literature scholar Doris Sommer, who directs the Cultural Agents Initiative at Harvard University, explains that the initiative focuses on the "constructive ways that creativity works in the world," particularly on the behalf of the poor and oppressed (2005). This approach will help to counteract the "predictable and sometimes tedious scholarship" that characterizes the field of cultural studies, which is "clogged" with habits of critique and denunciation (Sommer 2005; see also Cultural Agents Initiative n.d.). Although she includes a broad range of the creative arts in the initiative's scope, theatre is singled out as a particularly vital force for the production of creative, resourceful citizenship (Cortazar 2006). In the field of African studies, I often come across references to the popular arts as "fun spaces" and "flights of imagination," which exceed the networks of power that typically characterize the African postcolony (Werbner 2002:3; see also Appiah 1992:157); again, theatre receives special mention for its potential to script emancipatory narratives in a public forum.¹ These disciplines validate and perhaps legitimize our desire to identify a ray of hope in an otherwise bleak landscape of global inequities.

But when do invocations of hope turn into academic sugarcoating? When is the promise of transformation used as a theoretical salve for our unease about an unjust and genocidal planet where our economic privilege and material comfort depend upon a harsh world order that consigns millions of human beings to squalor and despair? I am not speaking of a lack of material goods, I am speaking of a lack of dignity. I am speaking of a lack of what most of us would consider "reasonable" expectations: expectations that your muscles will not atrophy because of protein deficiency, that your village will not be burned, that your infant will outlive you. During my fieldwork in the war zone of northern Uganda, I was well conditioned to find those ephemeral moments of hope—cultural devastation, collective trauma, and autogenocide be damned.

Yes, I know. To emphasize suffering and exploitation could subscribe to a colonialist narrative that banishes the peoples of the global South to the role of helpless victims. To focus on resilience and creativity works to challenge these well-worn tropes of passivity and helplessness. Those of us in postindustrial countries who research performance in these "other" parts of the world should be particularly cognizant of the ethical responsibility to refute this narrative. To emphasize the transformational potential of the performing arts is a way to sidestep this academic pitfall, as it permits the (Western/Northern) author to fall back on the tried-and-true (but sometimes tired) concept of agency.

To clarify: I am not saying that these moments of transformation, resistance, resilience, challenge, and transgression do not exist. All of us, I dare to say, have observed and/or experienced moments in which the capacity of humanity to transcend modalities of oppression is realized through the medium of live performance. In northern Uganda, I found it startlingly easy to identify the significance of the performing arts as a means of cultural survival. Powerful productions of indigenous dance did not exist in isolation but instead permeated the landscape. Abducted children danced in the rebel...