As we stood
there by the vine-covered
tree, solemn,
tangible forest around
intangible, skin-covered words, created
in our own image, we left behind
our cocoon, the forest was real
and so were we, in this moment
where the seed was
planted in our name
and we watered it.
Second Element
Was there a wall here
sometime before and have we
forgotten it or torn it down
because it limited our view
of who we could be?
The roofs are gone as well and we
drenched as we are, is it rain
that has wetted our faces and
our backs, is it us, are we
the ones whose silhouettes
suspended in a silent narrative
still stain the stone?
Third Element
I don’t remember who
among us did the melting; you
or me, or both, but here we are
liquid as ever, marbling together
forgetting our own colours; if
they were yours or mine
or never ours to begin with as
the heat of the moment forges us
together and forces us
to think as we never
thought before it –
behind this line that someone
drew in the scorched earth
blood may run thicker than
water, but we run thin
into each other.
Fourth Element
I opened up my veins
to let you in, to let you breathe your life
into me as my aspirations filled
your lungs so full of warmth that we took flight
of fancy; our parts multiplied
by more than one and less than two, a fraction
of who I was before you became me
like fragments of a language that connects us
unspoken to the voices in our mind
of all the ones that we have been before
tomorrow someone else will flow
through you.
Fifth Element
What are the parts that make up
the sum of what we can be and more –
when we subtract ourselves and don’t lose
count, something still is left
that wasn’t there when we began
to take root inside our own bodies
to sculpt our own river clay
to harden in the fire of our dreams
to breathe the air we occupied
and open its mouth to sing;
what strange new songs will it begin
to make of us?
Cover photo: Image by EchoGrid on Unsplash. Photo has been cropped.
This article is published in the companion book Book of Magic: Vibrant Fragments of Larp Practices and is published here with permission. Please cite this text as:
Wierda, Berber. “Elements of Larp.” In Book of Magic: Vibrant Fragments of Larp Practices, edited by Kari Kvittingen Djukastein, Marcus Irgens, Nadja Lipsyc, and Lars Kristian Løveng Sunde. Oslo, Norway: Knutepunkt, 2021.
I wrote my first poem when I was seven or eight years old. It was during a late dinner, I had just seen Carmen at the opera and was bored during dinner with my mother and my grandfather. On a napkin I scribbled a short poem. Thinking back, I don’t believe it was a coincidence that the creation of this first poem happened in close relationship to a very strong theatrical experience. Of course I had been in love with language long before that. Making up poems before I could even write, enjoying the feeling of stringing words together, making something beautiful. That this first actual written creation happened after my child self had experienced a very strong artistic performance made sense. I was filled with emotions I hardly understood, that needed to be expressed, and in that vacuum, poetry happened.
As I grew older I would write poetry based on my own strong emotional experiences, a way of process perhaps? I would change my creative outlet from poetry to larp creation. Sometimes letting years go without writing a single poem. But it was always there as a way to gather my thoughts in moments of emotional turmoil, and strong emotional dissonance.
Thankfully my life is not that filled with traumatic emotional experience these days, so my poetry writing has become much more rare. The most drama I experience these days is as a character at larps. However, I missed writing, and so I started experimenting with playing characters that expressed themselves through poetry. I quickly noticed that this was not only an excellent way to fuel my creativity, it also made my voice different. I might be the same person, but my style of poetry is not the same style as that of my characters, even if some similarities are unavoidable.
Even more interesting, writing as a character, in-game meant I could sit alone in a room with a notebook, completely immersed in my character. Finally, I understood Finnish immersion closets; all I needed was some paper and a pen!
I started to wonder, what happened there, in the meeting between me as a creator and the character? Could the written text change and influence play, but maybe more interestingly, could my character influence my own writing and creativity? Was this something more than I had experienced?
In this little essay I will both use examples of my own writing, case studies of characters I played and how the diegetic poetry influenced the larp, but also of how the character influenced the writing style. I have also collected testimonies from other writing larpers or larping writers, since I wanted to know if this was more than a personal experience, asking them to reflect around their own diegetic writing experiences.
Lastly I will talk a bit about larping through text, and how – if at all – using the writing medium changes the way we can interact, and the importance of writing style in our play.
Below I will give three examples of larp characters I played and poetry they created. My focus will be on how creating these poems:
Felt in the moment
Changed the projection or story line of my character
Differed from my ordinary writing style
I will also ask:
Did the larp experience change my normal writing?
Did design choices affect my use of writing in the larp?
The Princess
At Harem Son Saat (2017), I played the princess Samara. The larp designed by Muriel Algayres in itself did encourage writing. As a part of the larp all players got a small diary in which we were told to write either as our characters, or make small off game notes if needed. For me playing the sheltered young princess of the Harem, poetry became a natural way of self expression within the frames of female culture portrayed in the Harem of 1913.
Harem Son Saat is a larp of the Romanesque tradition mixed with techniques from nordic larp. The romanesque larp style is much more narrative in its design elements, Muriel explains:
[In] the French romanesque tradition . . . characters are quite frequently given as subjective diaries (and almost always written in the first person). This is in keeping with the literary origins and inspirations of this specific scene (tapping a lot in serialized novels of the XIXth century and Victorian melodrama), and also presents the characters through their subjective views, which allows for misunderstandings, play on prejudice, different readings of situations, etc.((Nast Marrero. 2016. “The Last Hours of the Harem.” Medium, June 26.))
As a part of the design the players received a small diary for their character. It both contained subjective notes prewritten by the organizers but did also contain empty pages for the players to fill out in character during the larp. It was also to be saved afterwards as memorabilia of the larp experience if you wished.
That we were given this physical artefact that encouraged us to do diegetic diary entries made it an easy choice for me to also start to write poetry in it, since poetry was one of the acceptable ways for my character to self express in a more or less safe way. The art of poetry became an alibi for her to speak her mind.
Preparing for the larp I also read a lot of Rumi, a famous mystical Turkish poet from the 13th century, to try and get some of the flavour of Turkish and Ottoman poetry, a style very far from my own personal writing. I also wrote poems in advance, marking important situations in her backstory.
As the story of the princess born into a Harem longing for modernized western society progressed the poetry she wrote started to tell her story in it’s own way. Pivotal scenes documented in-game by her poetry. As a woman in the Harem she had limited possibility to communicate with men, even her father. She did however have the possibility to declare poetry or sing a song after dinner. This she did, as a way to communicate with her father and brothers.
These are some examples:
I am but a tool in my fathers hand
Please God make me sharp and strong
I am but the fruit of my fathers land
Please God keep me sweet and young
My heart is a sparrow small
It flutters when I hear his call
I step with care on burning coal
Please grant me peace within my soul
Purge my yearning, purge my dreams
Drench this restlessness in my fathers streams
Samara (A poem written earlier the same evening after a serious talk with her grandmother about Samara’s impending marriage, read out loud to her father the night of the 19th)
A daughter’s duty is a rock in the ocean
I will not be carried on the waves
Your mightiness will overflow me
Your current guides my night and days
Samara (trying very hard to write a nice poem to her father for the competition 20th of June)
But sometimes when the moon shines
A lost ray will wander and shed some light,
Reminding the rock that time
will surely return it too the world
Inayat, played by Jean-Damien Mottott (Answering by finishing Samara’s poem for her. She carried that close to her heart afterwards.)
In this example Samara tries to make amends after some arguments about her future with her father, by writing this poem to declare to him during a poetry competition. Her secret lover Inayat, touched by her feeling of hopelessness, continued the poem with a verse of his own which he smuggled to her. A lot of this love story took its place in smuggled poetry and hidden glances.
To sit and write the love poems, or the poems to my father in character helped me channel my character. It was a truly immersive experience helped along by the game design in itself that encouraged this type of diegetic writing.
Another example of a larp were writing poetry in character had a huge impact both on my way of understanding my character, my characters self expression and my immersion is The Quota that ran in the UK in 2018, organised by Avalon Larp Studios and Broken Dreams larp. The larp takes place in a dystopian future where refugees try to get from England into Wales. It is set at the holding facility for refugees seeking asylum in Wales.
In The Book of The Quota: A Larp about Refugees,((Elina Gouliou, ed. 2020. The Book of The Quota: A Larp about Refugees. Avalon.)) you can read more about the projects as well as several texts written by players both in and off game. There you can find all poems I wrote in character as the political poet, alcoholic Amanda Marks. Signing up for the larp, you got to choose between different archetypes, then one I got was “The Poet.” In preparation for the larp I knew I wanted her to try and leave England in the dystopian future the larp portrayed because she had written political poems, so I did create a couple beforehand. However the bulk of the poems were written ingame, drawing inspiration from what I saw and experienced there. I noticed how sneaking out for a smoke by myself (a moment that usually brings me off game and makes me reflect on the experience) became deeply immersive as what I saw while smoking would inspire poems I then would hurry in to write.
The poetry also became acts of rebellion, creating play for others. I would hang them on the walls of the venue, and others would read them and get emotional. At one point I even delivered a poem to the overseer of the holding facility who responded with an intense scene of physical and emotional violence. Still most of the poetry was written for me. I would spend down time in the larp (which there was a lot of since it circled a lot around waiting and feeling powerless) writing and expressing myself through my poetry. At those moments I could become even more immersed than in actual scenes were I played with other larpers.
I count the days until judgment
Knowing the odds are against me
There must be a better way out he said,
Fresh eyes, hopeful smiles
The key to survival is to survive the boredom
and when you cannot wait anymore find a quick death
Not too messy, think of the cleaners
You can count many things in a prison
Your friends, your enemies, your sleepless nights
your pointless fights
And when you run out of counting
spread your wings and fly into a grey sunset
without regret
The silent scream is the loudest
The yawn of desperation
“You are not a good mother” they said
Well you are not a good motherland
I mean not to offend, but you need to amend
Your view on humanity
Bring back a little sanity
A little decency, a little love
I am not fooled by your rethorics
I know your true nature mother England
You eat your children, I only left mine
Amanda’s poetry was a way for her to process her experience and after the larp I felt very little need for debrief writing, something I often do otherwise during an intense larp experience. I believe this was because I had already been processing the experience through words as it happened.
The language also is a bit harder than in the case of Princess Samara. The subject is quite similar, both characters were women confined in space, by circumstances outside their control, and both characters had a rebellious streak, using poetry to not conform. Still Samara operated with her poetry within the confines of her situation, and it is in a way seen in the way her poetry is more bound by rhymes and rhythm, where Amanda’s poetry is more like spoken word, and flow rather than a set form.
When Covid-19 made larping in real life impossible this year, I started up a letter larp called My Dearest Friend (2020), running from the 1st of April to the 30th of November 2020. The setting and the idea was simple. Taking place in the middle of the First World War it centered around a boarding school for girls, and the men in their close acquaintance, many of them off at war of course. The parallels between the feeling among people during the beginning of 2020 and the characters in 1916 were deliberate. There was a feeling of life being thrown upside down. A new strange normalcy, the eager following of the news for updates. The feeling of being separated from loved ones as we practiced social distancing. For many participants the letters sent became something to look forward to in the dull normalcy of self isolation, much in the same way they would have been for the characters. In this larp I play several different characters but one of them, Millicent Struthers, writes poetry. This was something that I started on a whim, but as the larp has progressed the poems of Millicent have been a great way for me to process intense feelings of bleed in character.
Though the format is low intensity, since you only are in character in your head while writing the letters it has for many become an intense experience where the borders between character and player easily get muddled due to the longevity of the larp. On top of that, many of the players, including myself, have introduced chat play as a part of the larp experience. It is not unheard of that I play my character on low intensity in these chats for weeks on end, without much break. This means that the immersion into character, although low in realism, becomes very emotional. By writing a poem when my character has a strong emotional response to a letter she received, or a situation in a chat, I can sort of debrief continuously while still in character.
The style of Millicent’s poetry is romantic, on verse, and a bit naive just as her character is. One example is “I Have to Try and Go Alone,” written as an homage to her twin brother missing in action.
Where are you; my brother now?
In foreign land an unmarked grave
In mud and rain and twilight gloom
Where only foreign flowers bloom
They cannot whisper any tales
Of dear old britain’s glens and dales
Where is that little daisy pray
I gifted you to make you stay?
Where is your smile, your beating heart?
Your liquid tongue always so smart?
Why were we so torn apart?
My darling where are all your jokes?
Your teasing and your ruthless mind?
Where is that soft and tender side
That so sorely hurt your pride?
How am I to now be strong and bold?
To laugh and live and then grow old?
How am I to learn anew
to be a person without you?
I hear your voice as you scold me
You are alive, you are set free!
I am wherever you will be!
But darling brother, life is hard
When every step you ever walked
Was hand in hand with you so dear
Together always brave no fear
Those unsaid words that still you knew
Those dreams you wanted to come true
Your reckless way of always running
You complete lack of thought or cunning
Your way that made me feel allowed
To be strong, and clever and proud
To stand tall and be unbowed
I know you want for me to smile
To live and love for both of us
I try to find my heart again
A tender voice a loving friend
I listen to your voice these days
You scold me in familiar ways
And wild grass grows above your head
And all the words we left unsaid..
Your dear beloved smile is gone
I have to try and go alone
I have to try and go alone
These poems were very different from my personal writing style, and much more dramatic and filled with adjectives.
In the larp the poetry has been a good way to address hard subjects without saying things straight out, subtlety being much harder in a larp only taking place as a written media. The poem about the dead brother was for example sent to another character whose brother was missing in action, in an attempt to get him to open up about his grief.
Summary of my Experiences
In all three examples above gathered from my own larping experience there are some common threads. The writing was all influenced by the character and the setting when it came to both style and quality.
The moments I wrote diegetically made immersion stronger, sometimes creating a feeling of flow more pure than while larping with other people. At times I felt like I was more channelling the character’s voice more than anything else, and seldom did I have to consciously alter my writing style to fit the setting or the character’s voice.
I do believe that the diegetic writing has in all instances influenced the narrative of my larp, albeit not changed it completely. With Samara the ways she could communicate through poetry with her father and her love interest definitely steered the overall narrative arc in a certain direction. With Amanda her poems being put up on the walls of the prison became a way to rally the other detained refugees, but also created a sub plot of conflict between her and the management that created an even stronger tension and friction between her and the confines she was living under. I don’t believe the poetry has been as strong an influence in the letter larp with Millicent. Perhaps because it is hard to see what effects a choice like sending a poem has with your co-player’s story when you don’t see them react to it. Instead it becomes more like all the other letters sent out into the void, a way of communicating equal to any other mean used.
I don’t think in-game writing influences my off-game writing much except for being an inspiration to write more. As a way of processing emotions created by bleed, or as a way to use the allegory of the larp to process my own emotions in real life. However I do believe it does make me a better writer, as the skill to intuitively change voice in your writing is very useful.
How a larp is designed can also of course influence how useful ingame writing is in developing narrative or deepening the relationships between characters.
In Harem Son Saat, not only were we given diaries and encouraged to use them, but the way female and male characters were separated and forbidden to communicate with each other that then in very structured ways meant that the use of poetry as secret communication was a natural development. Having a prompt to make the character creative, such as the archetype Poet that was given in The Quota also makes it a natural choice to make the character creative.
However I was interested in finding out if other larpers who write diegetically had the same experience or if this was just me.
Preparing to write this article about diegetic writing and its power for immersion I asked any larper that wanted to send in their answers and reflections around my basic questions of reflection as well as these four questions:
In what way do you write creatively as yourself?
How many larps have you on purpose incorporated your writing into your character?
Did writing diegetically change how you immersed into your character?
Did your style of writing change in regard to the type of character you portrayed?
My real question was of course, does writing diegetically change your larping experience, and does your larping change your written expression? It seemed like this was the case. Out of the ten people that replied some common denominators could be found.
All but one stated they wrote different kinds of lyric or fiction outside the larp realm as well, many in a professional capacity as poets, authors or journalists. It makes sense after all, that people who already express themselves through writing would feel inclined to use that medium to bot process and create emotional intense experiences in-game.
Writing is how I as a player process my feelings and observations, so writing in-character brings me closer to my character. Writing in-character fosters a more introverted style of playing, as otherwise I might pour my feelings more outward; it produces a less extroverted character interpretation.
Elli Leppä
For others it wasn’t so much the writing in itself that contributed to the larp experience but more the act of embodying a writer with the added alibi for interaction that gave ingame:
Did writing diegetically change how you immersed into your character?
Not, I think, so much the writing as much as being the writer, whose driving force in both instances became a) meeting the deadline and b) finding the next thing to report. Interviewing people for colour pieces was good for engaging with new people and the newspaper was good for disseminating information of major events to people who weren’t there.
Jukka Särkijärvi
How often was more varying, some had only consciously done it once, others had a hard time remembering the amount of larps where diegetic writing had been a prominent part of their experience. Sometimes this had been designed into the characters, and helped propelling the plot. At other times it was a private decision. In some instances it is actively used as a tool for deeper immersion into the character:
I find it easier to immerse through the written word, so the act of writing as my character diegetically – particularly as an introspective act – helps to cement who they are within the diegesis.
Simon Brind
I found that sitting with my notebook made me feel more comfortable sitting alone and also made it easier to sit near people and join the conversations. Writing lullabies for rain – her dead and then returned daughter made the grief and longing and the need to believe in her being there far more real and immersive.
Laura Wood
[I]t makes it seem [a] bit more ‘real’ if you write a report, a ritual, a letter a story, song, poem etc as your character.
Woody J. Bevan
I felt that having this extra dimension of immersion into the character was very effective. When writing as them, I could think as them and feel as them, perhaps more powerfully than I could have done without it.
Mo Holkar
This was not true for everyone though. Toril Mjelva Saatvedt said that the writing in character didn’t change the way she immersed herself. However the act of writing, and the product of that writing added to the character embodiment and became a tangible part of who they were. It was something that could be performed in character, or something that could be shown to other players, a way of portraying the character’s thoughts and feelings.
Another part of diegetic writing is when the larp in itself takes place through a written medium.. In some larp communities pre-larp in text chat is implemented. Another example of larp performed in the written medium is letter larping, a genre that is quite common and has had an upswing during the Covid-crisis when physical larps have had to be cancelled or postponed. Chris Hartford talked about the impact of pre larp in order to get a stronger connection to characters and plot:
I think writing helps to embed the character in yourself — you get a feel for their reactions and limits – as well as providing an emotional connection, both for myself and co-players. Often there is an off-game chat alongside the text RP, and on more than one occasion I’ve had co-players say those scenes solidified the game and concepts. For example, at one [College of Wizardry (2014-)] a co-player said, ‘and if you wondered, that was the point [the character] thought it could work” and before Odysseus, a short (600 word) preplay scene turned a dry on-and-off-relationship into a living and breathing (but challenging) romance.
Chris Hartford
However it is an important distinction here. Preplay is not diegetic writing. It is written in a meta space, where you describe actions and conversations in written form. It is not written from the headspace of the character. The resulting text is not a prop that can be used ingame. Letter larps on the other hand is a larp solely played out through diegetic writing. Where the words filtered through the characters is the only means of communication between characters and therefore play. In this format the diegetic writing becomes the playing, and the creations of poetry or diary notes outside of the letters might be a way to develop your own emotional connection to the character. Especially since the letters written diegetically might not always be as honest as a conversation, since the character has time to filter through what will be said, and how it will be said.
In the interviews Lolv Pelegrin addressed a very important question when it comes to diegetical writing on the international larp scene. When discussing if the writing style changed in regard to the type of character they played, they reflected that it did, but that the change was bigger if they wrote in their native language. However, with English being their third language meant that the nuances in the writing were less prominent. This is an interesting point that is important to note. In our international community, fluency of language does create an invisible barrier between player and immersion. Not only in diegetic writing, but in larping in general. If you are not comfortable with the English language the fluidity of immersion will always be hindered as the player will need to struggle to formulate themself in a foreign language. Diegetic writing will therefore naturally not be as beneficial for immersion as it would be for someone fluent in the language.
Writing diegetically at larps seems to be a way to enhance immersion and get closer to the characters inner feelings for most of the people who have done so. Most likely this would not be true for players who aren’t naturally inclined to write in their everyday as well. It takes a predisposition to express oneself through the writing medium for this to be a seamless action that enhances play. However, for those that already use the written language to process emotions and thoughts, writing as a character will often not only immerse the player on a deep level but also inspire the player to create in a different way than normally. In many instances the act of writing in itself can create meaningful moments for the player, even without the input of other players in that moment. It also is useful as a way to communicate a character’s emotion openly even when the setting or the character traits means that such displays of strong emotion are inappropriate. Diegetic writing can also when done as an active choice and displayed to the other players as in Jukka’s journalist that gave him an alibi to interact with other players, or in my own examples described above, influence the larp on a bigger level. Creating moments of emotional connection, and meetings between characters who might not have communicated in that way with each other without the written text.
Even though diegetic writing is something you as a player easily can implement in almost any setting, there are things that will make this choice more natural. Characters that are already written as prone to creative writing is of course a motivator to take that route. Perhaps more so is when the organizers themself press upon the written medium as a way to communicate and self reflect continuously through the larp experience such as the diaries and the poetry competition at Harem Son Saat.
When it comes to larp that singularly takes place through the written medium, such as letter larps, this creative writing might be a good supplement to process emotions within the character that cannot be expressed in letters addressed to others. It might help in immersion and in processing emotions diegetically although letter larps by nature have low levels of immersion due to the format.
The skill of larping in your own head, the finnish immersion closet is hard for many players that need the input from others in order to completely let go of their off-game meta reflections. By forcing oneself to write in character you engage your character’s thoughts and feelings in a lonely environment. It’s a tool that can help you get to grip with what the character really is feeling and thinking that can enrich both your own larp experience and by extension, in spreading the written text, the larp experience of others.
As a writer, or someone who enjoys writing in their everyday life it can also act like a motivator to explore different formats and styles of writing. By channeling the character’s voice you push yourself to experiment with tone, format and voice. It is a playful act in and of itself, in stretching your creative muscles. The writing itself becomes its own kind of documentation of the larp experience, and a memorabilia of an experience that often is hard to capture by other means. Although pictures are a good way of capturing the larp from the inside. The written text becomes a documentation of the larp from the inside, and can be saved and relished for a long time afterwards as you as a player look back at the larp experience.
However it is a tool that is not easily accessible to all players. It depends a lot both on the aptitude for writing in the player as well as their comfort level with the language used at the larp; something you might want to keep in mind if you want to try it out yourself.
This article will be published in the upcoming companion book Book of Magic and is published here with permission. Please cite this text as:
Sandquist, Siri. Immersion through Diegetic Writing in Character. In Book of Magic, edited by Kari Kvittingen Djukastein, Marcus Irgens, Nadja Lipsyc, and Lars Kristian Løveng Sunde. Oslo, Norway: Knutepunkt, 2021. (In press).
From the Julio Plaza’s proposition that, based on the concept of open work of Umberto Eco, categorises the relationship author-work-reception in three degrees, and the division in cultural events in reception, interaction and participation, seen in the research of Kristoffer Haggren, Elge Larsson, Leo Nordwall and Gabriel Widing, this study plans to compare three works called The Road Not Taken: a 1916’s poem by Robert Frost, a 2008’s larp by Mike Young and a 2014’s music piece by André Mestre. Besides that framework, this research uses the notion of game from communication and culture theorist Vilém Flusser, which divides them between open and closed. In open games, the translation process would be seen as a modification of the structure of rules in a given game. From this theoretical basis, the objective is to draw a relationship between the open work and open game. In this context, the poem would stand as receptive work, the music piece as interactive work and the larp as participatory work.
Three Different Roads Not Taken: A Brief Presentation of the Works
In 1916, the US poet Robert Frost (1874- 1963) published a collection of poems called Mountain Interval. The opening poem was called The Road Not Taken. In general, the four stanzas of the poem make up the story of a traveller who finds himself at an impasse after the initial event in which “two roads diverged in a yellow wood”. (Frost, 1916, p. 9) After watching each of the paths, the traveller chooses one. However, he keeps thinking about the other. The end of the poem perpetuates a puzzling atmosphere, since the poem ends complementing the initial starting sentence, pointing that “two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference”. (p. 9)
In 2008, the larp The Road Not Taken was created by US game designer Mike Young, described by him as “a game of emotions and decision” (Young, 2008, p. 3). In his script, designed for six to twelve players, each one will be the main character in a scene of about ten minutes, where he or she will be in a moment of critical decision. The other participants represent voices that indicate different views or decisions to the protagonist. According to the author,((Although the relationship with the Frost poem is not made clear in the larp script, it was clarified by Young in an email conversation on 05.03.2016.)) the influence of Frost occurs since both the poem and the larp are about decision making, so it seemed appropriate to give an eponymous title.
In 2014, the Brazilian composer André Mestre writes The Road Not Taken, an “open piece for two instrumentalists” (Mestre, 2014, p. 2). It is clear that Frost inspired more than merely the title, since:
(…) The two voices contained in the work poetically represent the path taken and the path that could have been. One acts upon the other as a shadow, a memory, an anxiety. It is my hope that the spirit of the poem can also be extended to alllevels of decision-making of the piece, especially those pertaining to performance. Contemplate the multitude of options at every moment, take the road less traveled.
Mestre, 2014, p. 2
Mestre’s proposal extends beyond the literary sphere and the musical sphere to the imagery sphere, since the very music score escapes from a more orthodox pattern to merge itself with the poem and the wood’s image where (in Frost’s poem) the decision was taken, as seen in Figure 1.
In order to immerse the instrumentalists deeper in the experience of playing the roles of path taken and path that could have been, Mestre suggests the use of live electronics, as pointed out by indicating that the piece:
(…) makes use of two electroencephalogram headsets, to be used in real time by the performers. These headsets are responsible for measuring and monitoring focus levels and performative efforts. This data is then used to process and trigger recordings that are constantly being made during the performance. Both performers should be microphoned. Each of them, however, can only access the other’s recordings — “playing” the other on the level of the mind. It is a poetic metaphor for our constant pursuit of alternatives, of “what ifs?”, of trying to go beyond our fate of always having to choose one instead of the other.
Mestre, 2014, p. 3
Thus, we present here (although superficially) three different works. Two of them, despite being made to other artistic platforms (music and visual elements in the case of Mestre, the larps’ dramatisation in the case of Young), derived from the Frost poem.
Figure 1 – Excerpt from The Road Not Taken music score. Source: Mestre, 2014.
A Road Less Travelled in Translation
For the scholar Vilém Flusser (1920-1991), a Jewish Czech who spent 32 years of his lifein Brazil, the game is a comprehensive concept, considered “all systems composed of elements combined according to rules” . (Flusser, 1967 p. 2) Flusser (1967) calls repertoire the set of game elements, while the set of rules is called structure. Competence in this case would be “all the possible combinations of the repertoire in the structure” (p. 2), while the universe of the game would be all of such combinations already performed. In games where repertoire and structure are unchangeable, “competence and universe tend to coincide. When this happens, the game is over”. (p. 3) Once defined, Flusser’s relevant terms for this study (repertoire, structure, competence and universe), it is observed that:
The game’s competences, although specific, given their disposal, tend to interpenetrate themselves. There is a tendency for anthropophagy between games. In spaces of anthropophagic interpenetration of competences there is the possibility of translation, and does not exist outside of these spaces. And the translation is always a modification of structures.
Flusser, 1967, p. 5
In this manner, one arrives at one of the focal points of this study: the notion of translation. In the works cited, understanding that we are dealing with three different formats (literature, music and larp), there is a translation process. The common element in all of them is the notion raised by taking a road. Each of the works (or each of the games, adopting Flusser’s term) fits the elements to its structure, thus creating a completely different game, yet with elements that refer to each other. Thus, from the element taking a road, it allows to relate the polysemy of the poem both the decision-making of performers and visual presentation of the musical play score as in the creation process of a narrative in larp.
This position could be supported by a separate definition. For the Spanish multimedia artist Julio Plaza (1938-2003), the translation process between the three briefly outlined works could be considered an Intersemiotic translation, a term supported by the Russian linguist Roman Jakobson (1896-1982), which defines it as the interpretation of a sign system to another (Jakobson apud Plaza, 2003a). Plaza extends the concept of Jakobson, because for him the Intersemiotic translation would be an artistic practice, since it is:
(…) a critical and creative practice in the historicity of the means of production and re-production, such as reading, metacreation, action over event structures, dialogue of signs, synthesis and rewriting of history. It means, as thought in signs, such as tra c of meanings, as transcreation forms in historicity.
Plaza, 2003a, p. 14
The common point between both hypotheticals is that the translation would refer not only to an adaptation of one language to another. Because they have different rules, they form different games.
The (Gradually) Open Works: Reception, Interaction and Participation
Although not the aim of this study, exhausting or even encompassing the myriad of possibilities related to the concept of translation, the notion presented here allows us to bring to light the second of its focal points: the concept of open work. Coined by Italian philosopher and semiologist Umberto Eco (1932-2016), open work refers to the idea of a text that conveys not only one interpretation. In these works, “a plurality of meanings coexist in one significant”. (Eco, 1991, p. 22)
The concept of Eco concerns the subjectivity of enjoyment, and not the objective structure of a work. Thus, while closed (in the sense of finished) as an author creation, Eco points out that:
(…) in the act of reaction to the web of stimuli and understanding of their relations, each spectator brings a concrete existential situation, a particularly conditioned sensitivity, a determined culture, tastes, trends, personal biases, so that the understanding of original form is found in an individually designed perspective.
Eco, 1991, p. 40
Plaza (2003b) starts on this definition of Eco to demonstrate three different degrees of openness in the work. To Plaza, the fruition of the work would have different degrees of participation of the spectator, following a designed pathway between passive participation, active participation, perceptive participation and interactivity.
In this logic, the first degree of openingwould be the open work advocated by Eco, characterised by polysemy, ambiguity, multiplicity of readings and wealth of meanings (Plaza, 2003b). The second degree of opening, in turn, was unrelated to the ambiguity, which is related by Plaza with a passive participation. Instead, counts with the active and/or perceptive participation of the viewer, aiming to bridge the gap between creator and viewer, using as tools playful participation, randomness and creativity of the viewer (Plaza, 2003b). Flourishing as a counterpoint to the mass culture, this “art of participation” (Plaza, 2003b, p. 14) understand the perception of the spectator as a re-creation of the work, as opposed to the polysemy of the first degree of opening. Finally, the third degree of opening would refer to the interactivity, placed by Plaza as the art related, above all, to contemporary technologies. Here, artists were “more interested in the processes of artistic creation and aesthetic exploration than in the production of finished works” (Plaza, 2003b, p. 17), so that both the artist and the work “only exist for effective participation the public” (Plaza, 2003b, p. 19). Because of this requirement of a receiver so that there is the author and the work, Plaza also gives this degree of opening the name of communicational art as it “allows a creative communication based on the principles of synergy, constructive collaboration, critical and innovative”. (Plaza, 2003b, p. 17)
Synthetically, the different degrees of openness proposed by Plaza could then be called in accordance with the inclusion of the viewer in the work on:
First degree of openness: passive participation;
Second degree of openness: active/ perceptive participation;
Third degree of openness: interactive participation.
However, polysemy also affects the very theoretical concepts that underlie it. This is the case of the positioning of Swedish researchers Kristoffer Haggren, Elge Larsson, Leo Nordwall and Gabriel Widing. Similar to Plaza, they divide the arts according to therelation author-work-reception in three different categories.
The first artistic category would be spectative art, assuming that “to spectate an event is to subject an individual to a solitary internal mental process: our senses perceive stimuli, we interpret them and create an experience for ourselves” (Haggren et al, 2009, p . 33). For the authors, the works of art encompassed by this category would occupy the space of thinking, had here as the “potential experiences that a certain sensory stimulation can bring up at a certain time in a certain observer” (Haggren et al, 2009, p. 36), including that spectrum “all possible thoughts, emotional reactions and associations that the subject can connect to the stimulation of the work” (Haggren et al, 2009, p. 36).
The second category is the interactive art, which “can be described as a perception of stimuli driven by choice” (Haggren et al, 2009, p. 39), since the works in this category “gives the observer the possibility to choose which sensory input will be exposed “(Haggren et al, 2009, p. 40). Here, although the authors show that the vast majority of works generate a space of potential thinking, we also have the space of choice, or “the range of all possible stimulus where the viewer can choose” (Haggren et al, 2009, p. 41).
The third (and last) category would be participative art. Participation in this context is understood as “the process by which individuals produce and receive stimuli to and from other subjects in the framework of an agreement that defines how these exchanges will be performed” (Haggren et al, 2009, p. 43). Here, the viewer’s notion breaks down, since he becomes a participant, a simultaneous consumer and producer of stimuli. The rules of stimuli exchanges make up a pillar of the participative art, since they give to this agreement a social meaning and, therefore, communication. It comes as the space of action, that “indicates to participants subsidies and restrictions to act communicatively”. (Haggren et al, 2009, p. 46)
The main difference between these two theories are in the meaning employed to the word interactivity. While, in Plaza’s research, interactivity refers to the “reciprocal relationship between the user and an intelligent system” (Plaza, 2003b, p. 10), showing the position of the author of that interactivity is related to “issue of technical interfaces with the notion of program” (Plaza, 2003b, p. 17), for the Swedish authors interactivity refers to the notion of choice. From this concept, the categorisations of both are distinguished by creating distinct incremental positions.
In this respect, this study is based on the second theory, marked by the apparatus notion viewed in Flusser (2002; 2007): the apparatus would be the producer of information, or non-things (as opposed to tools and machines that perform work or, in Flusser’s terminology, produce things), always subjected to a program. The person operating the apparatus (or that for it is operated, if we take the servant’s notion mentioned by Flusser) seeks to exhaust the options already pre-prescribed in the program. In this sense, it points to a connection between the use of the term interactivity both by Plaza and by the Swedish authors: interactivity would occur for a series of choices resulting from the user’s relationship with the program. The participation, however, is part of a more complex level: a deprogramming of the apparatus, namely the freedom to incorporate noise as part of the repertoire (Flusser, 1967) of the apparatus. The American media researcher Henry Jenkins also points to this sense of insubordination to the apparatus as ulterior to the interactivity, under the name of participatory culture (Jenkins, 2009). Explaining: only a culture that has dominated the apparatus, as seen in some contemporary groups, could insubordinate themselves as the way we see in the Jenkin’s participatory culture that deprogram the apparatus moved mainly for entertainment and pleasure.
In short, the spectative art is a first degree opening, polysemic, where there is a dependence of an viewer on a finished work by an author. In interactive art, the third degree opening restricts the dependence between author and spectator just to one program mediating the process, and no longer to a work. Finally, participative art, the relationship between the participants (a second degree opening in Plaza studies) is given by an agreement.
Open Work and Open Game
Once demonstrated, the three aspects that make up this study (i.e. the aforementioned works of art, the concept of translation, and the opening of the work), this research reaches its central point: the relationship between opening of the game and opening of the work. It is evident that by opening the game means the increase or decrease of the repertoire and/or modification of its structure (Flusser, 1967). The increase or decrease in the repertoire would occur by the transformation of noise in game elements, and vice versa, understanding noises like “elements that are not part of the repertoire of a particular game” (Flusser, 1967, p. 4).
In Frost’s poem, the original((Despite the use of the term original, it is assumed that even the poem can be considered a possible translation of Frost’s thoughts, memories, perceptions and interpretations.)) of which the other two works has operated translations, could be admitted an opening of the first degree, or a spectative art. The possibilities of game openness are limited to the repertoire of each spectator, i.e. the set of elements, in this case the meanings, that he can give to the work. However, the structure of the game/work remains unchanged.
In Mestre’s music piece, the translation, or modification of structure (an openness in the game), incorporate different elements to Frost’s poem. The usual score’s pentacle is replaced by a structure that unfolds in the image of a tree, in allusion to the point where the roads diverged in the poem. The two musicians take on the role of the possible paths, invited to improvise on the suggestions of musical notes that they may possibly take from such subjective musical notation. The very distinction between the two demonstrated interactivity concepts here have their place: on one hand there isthe third degree opening, the interaction between user and program, seen as changing the music through the capture of concentration and relaxation states of the performer (hereinafter also receiving the output of the other performer) by electroencephalogram (EEG).((This study highlights the metagame played by Mestre, who incorporates a noise to the electroencephalogram repertoire, which could be understood, in Flusser’s terms, as a deprogramming of the device in question.)) On the other hand, the relationship with the possible choices, based on the music feedback returned to each of the performers, suggests a second degree opening.
Finally, in Young’s larp, the very perception of the participants on the few lines describing each scene and each role is the heart of the matter, because it allows them to create, in every execution, a completely different work for producing and receiving completely distinct stimuli.
Which Road to Take Forward?
Although Mestre never played Young’s larp, he has been a role-player for several years. To which degree would the immersion in a participative art affect the production in other (and sometimes less opened) artistic structures?
Larps have been around for a while: about 20 years as an artistic expression, if you take the nordic larp slope; about 40 years if you take a common origin with the tabletop role-playing games; or even millennia, if you take the relationship between larps and Roman Saturnalias, as pointed out by Brian Morton (2007).
Eco stays in the metaphor of a wood to the narrative. The Italian semiologist, with this term, honours the Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986), for whom:
(…) a wood is a garden of diverging roads. Even when there are not well-defined paths in a wood, everyone can draw their own path, deciding to go to the left or tothe right of a particular tree and, in every found tree, choosing this or that direction.
Borges apud Eco, 1994, p. 12
Using this metaphor, the narratives, whether they be literary, imagistic, musical or ludic, would be composed of options all the time. Eco even compares the fruition of a work to a game, given the relationship between the author and the spectator, whom he defines as “someone who is eager to play” (Eco, 1994, p. 16). As pointed out by the Brazilian communicologist Monica Martinez, human expressions, even over the millennia and innovation of techniques, relied on “new interpretations layer overlaps on the same content”. (Martinez, 2015, p. 4)
Thus, passed this literature review, it is suggested that a possible road to be taken in the future would be to research, learn and absorb how a participative art, as is the case of larps, could contribute (or already contributes) to the choice of new layers to overlap the elements contained in different artistic expressions and/or structures.
Bibliography
Eco, Umberto. Obra aberta [The Open Work]. São Paulo, Brazil: Perspectiva. 1991
Eco, Umberto. Seis passeios pelos bosques da ficção [Six Walks in the Fictional Woods]. São Paulo, Brazil: Companhia das Letras. 1994
Haggren, Kristoffer, Elge Larsson, Leo Nordwall and Gabriel Widing. Deltagarkultur [Participatory Culture]. Göteborg, Sweden: Bokförlaget Korpen, 2009 [date of access: 03/05-2016] http://download.deltagarkultur.se/Deltagarkultur.pdf
Jenkins, Henry. Cultura da convergência [Convergence Culture]. São Paulo, Brazil: Aleph, 2009
Martinez, Monica. “Imagens que (nos) devoram: reflexões sobre tigres, jornalismo cidadão e coberturas jornalísticas. [Devouring Images: reflections on tigers, citizen journalism and news coverage]”. In: XXIV Encontro Anual da Compós, 2015 Brazil: Universidades de Brasília e Católica de Brasília, 2015 [date of access: 08/01- 2016] http://www.compos.org.br/biblioteca/monicamartinez_2883.pdf
Morton, Brian. “Larps and their cousins through the ages”. In Lifelike. Edited by Jesper Donnis, Morten Gade and Line Thorup. Copenhagen, Denmark: Projektgruppen KP07, 2007. p. 245-259. [date of access: 10/05-2016] https://nordiclarp.org/wiki/Lifelike
Cover photo: Allison Balcetis and Manuel Falleiros performing The Road Not Taken (Mestre, 2014) at University of Campinas in 2015. Photo by Luciene Mourige.