The Oberammergau Passion Play – arguably the largest and longest-running Passion Play tradition in the world – depicts Jesus’ arrest, conviction and crucifixion at a spellbinding scale. It has also been at the centre of a controversy regarding its historic antisemitism and its efforts to reform, having engaged a director with a zeal for radically changing it. However, this article, informed by a large ethnographic study, argues that the feud that engulfed the town for decades – with reformers and traditionalists at loggerheads – has now abated. The 2022 Passion Play was made almost entirely by pro-reform locals, with traditionalists now outnumbered and sidelined, due to both their own choices and intentional exclusion by those at the helm. What remains of the feud has now changed shape, focusing not on the changes to the play but on the leadership style of the director.

This article examines the COVID-era shift in the disability politics of sensory-theatre artists in the United Kingdom who create work for neurodiverse young audiences, arguing that the pandemic pushed them toward a more expansive and overtly political understanding of disability. I examine the work of three companies – Oily Cart (London), Frozen Light (Norwich) and Spectra (Birmingham) – who adjusted their practices to embrace their audiences’ shifting access needs, including those in caregiving roles. These changes move sensory theatre into a more politicized realm, echoing calls from crip studies scholars and disability justice activists to reimagine disability as a relational category from which solidarity can arise that does not hinge entirely on medical diagnosis. These artists’ renewed commitments to relational access provide lessons for performing artists and audiences navigating how to care for one another through the massive death and disablement of the ongoing pandemic.

The article traces the production and reception of Love as Strong as Death, a dramatization of the Song of Songs that was performed in Mandatory Palestine in the years 1940–42 by a group of Yemenite Jewish actors. We argue that the tensions between the actors’ amateur status and their image as embodying a long-lost Biblical heritage were emblematic of the inherent contradictions within the hegemonic Ashkenazi Zionist discourse and the Orientalist perception of the role of Yemenite Jews in it. By exploring both Yemenite and Ashkenazi voices in and around the production, we analyse how the stage, the theatre hall and the written press all served as contested sites regarding the participation of non-European Jews in Hebrew theatre and culture. In the paper's conclusion, we demonstrate how Love as Strong as Death anticipated later debates in Israeli theatre about the place of Mizrahi Jews on stage and in the auditorium.

The article explores the scenographic rendering of trauma in the theatre performance 872 days. Voices of the besieged city staged by a small theatre, Subbota, in Saint Petersburg, Russia. The performance delves into the complex issues of private narratives of traumatic experiences, which, for decades, were deemed unimportant and even disruptive within the context of victory and glory of The Great Patriotic War. The production is based on memoirs and diaries of witnesses of the Leningrad siege. This study explores the connection between the scenographic ecology and empathic unsettlement, which is understood as a tool of approaching trauma through the experience of the audience. The article analyses how the scenographic rendering of trauma allows for potential representation and understanding of traumatic experience. It further looks at a theatre space as a place for mourning and reflexivity that allows the possibility of working through past trauma to better understand the present.

On 3 March 2021, almost a full year after South Africa's theatres were closed due to Covid-19 restrictions, renowned opera soprano Sibongile Mngoma walked into the Johannesburg offices of the South African National Arts Council (NAC) to meet with senior department officials. She was there to demand accountability over their non-payment of promised Covid-19 artist relief funds to the tune of R300 million (roughly USD 16.6 million). When it became apparent that no official would honour the meeting, Mngoma announced her intention to wait. She did not leave the building for another sixty days.

How might we think queerly about the politics of performance in public space? Inspired by ‘queer’ as a straying from the straight-and-narrow and by the street as a site of chance meetings and awkward run-ins, I stage in this essay an encounter between two different approaches to thinking the politics of performance in public space. The first approach follows a familiar path: Bertolt Brecht's ‘street scene’ and Walter Benjamin's account of epic theatre. The second approach follows the walking performances of two queer migrant artists – South Korean-born Jisoo Yoo, now based in France, and Mozambican-born Jupiter Child, now based in Denmark – who interrogate the disorientation of the queer migrant body in Western European public space. Exploring the surprisingly busy intersection between the Brechtian street scene and the work of these two artists reveals a politics of performance in public space that favours orientation over rupture.

This dossier explores the ways in which theatre and performance practitioners across the globe have addressed the deeply gendered modes of differential access to public spaces, institutional support, and resources through their creative as well as activist work, during the pandemic and its aftermath. In the last three years, the pandemic has transformed experiences of urban space globally. Access to public space has always been gendered as well as shaped by geographical location, race, caste, class and sexual identity. These traditional modes of differential access have been radically reorganized by the isolation and uncertainty engendered by the global pandemic. While ‘working from home’ was certainly not an option for everyone (most notably, care-workers in an overwhelmingly feminized profession), confinement to domestic space also meant escalating incidents of gendered violence for others. Additionally, the lack of sustainable income opportunities meant, as contributions to this dossier will demonstrate, the stripping away of roofs from over the heads of vulnerable citizens, whether impoverished artistes in want of state support or migrant workers on an uncertain daily wage. Staying at home was no longer an option, because ‘home’ often ceased to exist as a viable shelter, whether literally or by implication. For performers and theatre-workers all over the world, it was a time of intensified precarity: not only a loss of employment and income, but also a growing sense of artistic and professional purposelessness. While some were able to reorient this bewilderment through virtual and digital performances, for many grassroots performers, especially in the global South, access to these modes of public engagement were limited. In countries like India, street theatre activists felt unable and unwilling to switch to the digital space, while the prohibition on public assembly struck an irrevocable blow to women's protest movements.

In the last twenty years, memory has gained broader attention in Turkey's social, cultural and political arena. In line with this movement, independent and subsidized theatres produced plays engaging with Armenian history through diverse political and aesthetic agendas. Among these works, public and state theatre productions remained mostly invisible in theatre scholarship due to their ambiguous position that does not directly align with the framework of political theatre. This article examines the adaptation of the Ottoman Armenian playwright Hagop Baronian's Adamnapuyj aravelyan (1868) as Şark Dişçisi (The Oriental Dentist) (2011) by the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality City Theatres (İBBŞT). While promoting confrontation with the past, Şark Dişçisi eliminates the crucial political insights of its source text and their ramifications for contemporary demands for historical justice regarding the 1915 Armenian Genocide. The intersection of revisionist theatre historiography and broader political dynamics in the adaptation process reveals the ambivalences of post-Genocide memory work in Turkey.

How are theatre practitioners (re)defining the realist project, a form of theatre intrinsic to the ideological domestication of capitalism? This paper takes up this question through an examination of Simon Stone's production of The Wild Duck ‘after Ibsen’, staged at Belvoir Theatre in Sydney in 2011, and the late Mark Fisher's (2009) theorization of a market-dominated present as capitalist realism. In doing so, it refers to three different cultural contexts by making parallels to the German theatre director Thomas Ostermeier's work and pointing to developments in Britain. It argues that performances dependent upon the subject's capacity to know and represent the world are predicated on a subjective response and therefore risk locating systemic issues in the closed fictional cosmos of situational dramatic art as part of its exploration of the paralysis intrinsic to the capitalist realist politics of (theatre) spectatorship.

The focus of this article is the range of feminisms which circulate through Belfast-based Oona Doherty's choreographies for groups of women, namely the second episode of Hard to Be Soft: A Belfast Prayer (2017), which is titled ‘Sugar Army', and Lady Magma: The Birth of a Cult (2019). This analysis is motivated by the need to expand discussion of feminisms in tandem with examination of more complex identities in Northern Ireland: to look beyond a Nationalist–Unionist binary within post-conflict society and examine the intersections of gender, class and race. Tracking the movement of feminisms through Doherty's choreographies will explore how they mobilize, and fail, these women, as well as revealing the potential for, and pitfalls of, community and solidarity. Doherty's work has the potential to mobilize a dynamic intergenerational and intersectional feminism which recognizes the experiences of ‘differently positioned women’.

I began working on this article in the winter of 2022, when Russia's invasion of Ukraine shattered the fragile stability of Europe. Artur Solomonov's tragifarce How We Buried Josef Stalin (2019) speaks directly to this catastrophic time but also to the legacy of Stalinism in Russia. ‘A play about flexibility and immortality’, Solomonov's farce confronts its audience with the dilemma of Stalinism, which Putin's putrid regime continues to mobilize. Using irony, hyperbole and grotesque, it proposes a dramaturgical response to the question of why hostility to the world, isolationism and nationalistic aspirations are deeply ingrained in the collective psyche of Russian society. To Solomonov, the issue rests in the malleability of a Russian psyche that embraces an image of the tyrant and allows it to remain immortal; it also feeds Russian collective nostalgia, which prepared the ground for the rise of what Lev Gudkov called ‘recurring totalitarianism’.

This article proposes to address the tension between digital co-presence and embodied spectatorship inaugurated by the pivot to online and hybrid forms of (post-)pandemic performance through the lens of the postdigital. The term is developed as a way of accounting for the complex mediatized co-presence between performer and audience in a representative example of this genre, Dead Centre's To Be a Machine (Version 1.0). As its theoretical framework, the article brings together the concept of ‘postdigital performance’ (Causey) with co-presence as a central element of liveness and spectatorship. It puts forth the hypothesis that To Be a Machine (Version 1.0) constructs a postdigital sense of co-presence that is characterized by a blurring of the lines between embodied and virtual spectatorship, temporal co-presence and real-time interaction with the remote audience, and an increased sense of emotional alignment with the remote audience in lieu of physical proximity.

Taking a closer look at the digital monologue series Go mBeire Muid Beo (May We Be Alive [to See Each Other Again]), which was produced by the Belfast-based Irish-language theatre company Aisling Ghéar, this article seeks to document Irish-language theatre produced under coronavirus lockdown measures in Northern Ireland, whilst acknowledging the various issues that continue to haunt the Irish language, and highlighting the particular dangers and potential pitfalls in a context where very limited funding for theatre continues to dwindle. Through an analysis of the monologue series, its content, and the wider sociopolitical context that engulfs Irish-language theatre in Northern Ireland, this article also provides an important snapshot of current and ongoing debates within Irish-language theatre at a critical juncture.

This article examines Scenes for Survival, a series of short digital artworks co-created by the National Theatre of Scotland, BBC Scotland and Screen Scotland, for its intersecting dimensions of precarity. On the one hand, the series shows how a pandemic's challenges are unevenly distributed. On the other hand, it addresses the expressly precarious position of (post-)pandemic theatre – precarious in that theatre presupposes the co-presence of an audience of some sort. Drawing on Judith Butler's concept of embodied precarity, I explore how select monologues articulate a ‘new bodily ontology’, and what kind of audience is constructed in the process. As I suggest, Scenes for Survival proposes ways in which proximity and physical co-presence must be reconfigured, constructed across space and time. In doing so, the series adds to ongoing discussions of how to conceptualize digital spectatorship, especially in times when physical co-presence is impossible, and thus becomes an issue of vulnerability.

For at least thirty years, scholars have debated the centrality of physical and embodied presence as essential to the experience of theatre and performance. A debate that was perhaps largely academic suddenly became a shared reality when COVID-19 shuttered live venues, closed universities and moved artists of all kinds online. Suddenly, much of the theatre world began acting for the (web)camera. This article considers the changing attitudes toward notions of theatrical presence before and throughout the pandemic and what these changes might mean for the future of live arts. In particular, it posits the intersection of theatre, film and media history as key to understanding digitally enhanced contemporary experiences and expectations of post-pandemic performances.

The purpose of this article is to explore different ways of countering the COVID-19 pandemic in Polish theatre that were not only attempts to provide protection against the potentially lethal coronavirus, but also attempts to actively combat other ‘viruses’: the capitalist compulsion for productivity and the exclusion of Others (the disabled, the elderly, women or LGBT+ people). Several Polish artists of the lockdown era (participants in the Quarantine Project, Beyond #quarantine and DIY 2020 Masterclasses, members of Theatre 21, Joanna Szczepkowska and Wojtek Ziemilski) have managed to draw the attention of a wider audience to these problems. During the pandemic, they practised the art of resistance in various ways, including the ‘art of failure’ as a resistance against neo-liberal systems. Therefore their projects can be seen as a dress rehearsal before the emergence of a post-pandemic, post-capitalist, post-growth, more ethically conscious theatre of the future.

The following is a transcript of the Q&A with Zoё Seaton on 2 August 2022.

All became data during the pandemic. Lockdowns made manifest what had developed for some time: that theatre has become inextricably entangled with digital cultures, the performing arts being increasingly encountered as a growing stock of multimodal fragments, textual discourses and networked communications. And, it is argued, it is precisely this appearance of theatre as (big) data that might prove to be the game-changer post-pandemic, and that this game-changer might be solely an epistemological one: what is known about theatre, how that knowledge is organized, and who is involved in organizing this knowledge, are rapidly changing. Based on an exemplary analysis of the discourses of legitimation that compensated for the loss of presence in German theatres, and the associated imperative to innovate production, this article estimates the epistemological consequences of theatre returns as data to advocate for a reconceptualization of theatre beyond performance.

For left cultural activism, ‘theatre’ forms an important ‘worksite of democracy’ which allows theatre activists to provide creative intervention within the existing ‘field of forces’. Cultural organizations and theatre groups of the Left – like the Delhi-based Jana Natya Manch (People's Theatre Forum) offer a critique of neo-liberalism through theatre. First performed in the year 2000, the street play Nahi Qubool (Unacceptable) was designed to expose neo-liberal policies undertaken by the Bharatiya Janata Party-led government. The play continued to be performed even after a change of government with suitable modifications for changed circumstances. This genealogy of performance demonstrates the contours of politics and activist performances in contemporary India. It reveals that theatre as a ‘laboratory for democracy’ can also perform a diagnostic role to enhance the effectiveness of political strategy.