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A penchant for illusion has been around for years. Illusionists and tricksters are everywhere from the Victorian theatres of the past to modern day filmmakers and, of course, Derren Brown.

 

Is it that as a society we like to be duped? I hope not, otherwise our government is going to be with us for a long time. No, I think our love for illusion comes from seeing it practiced by people so well versed in their craft that they begin to make us believe in magic.

Watching Derren Brown perform brings childish delight to any adult's face, as does any film that so employs the cinematic technique of editing so as to render the impossible possible. But the illusion I want to bring to light is that of a particular variety and it lives behind the curtain, or in the black box, of the theatre. Theatrical illusion can appear in a big budget West-End production or a no-budget amateur production in a shed. It is the magical essence of theatre that keeps it alive and that, actually, doesn’t have to cost a thing.

Because, due to its liveness, we can never escape an awareness of theatre’s artificiality, its illusion is freed from claims of creating a false consciousness and becoming a mode of ideological control. It is more akin to Deren Brown telling us how he did his trick, and us still being impressed, than mainstream cinema’s seamless and slick practice of illusion.

I recently saw 'Du Goudrons et des Plumes' by Marthur in Bolze Company at the London International Mime Festival and, although there were flaws to be found in the show, the moments of pure theatrical magic were spectacular. One such moment was the use of lights to play with the creation of silhouettes. A man was growing and shrinking in front of our eyes and, although it was evident the effect had been achieved with the lighting, an element of wonder still remained; as if these people knew some special secret and with it were creating this whole new world.

It is such effects that theatre needs to strive for if it is to keep up with the rest of the illusion-perpetrating world. Sometimes I think we forget the power of the theatrical craft and the language of images, preferring to stick to words and fairly standard sets. As a writer I am certainly not advocating purely wordless theatre, but it may be time for a revision, for the creation of new theatre texts. Ones that create a world through theatrical magic, a world from which dissident voices can then, if they wish to, speak.

 

Ellen Carr is a drama student, theatre director and writer.