Bent; Adjective 
‘sharply curved or having an angle’

This first chapter discusses the contextual process surrounding our production of Martin Sherman’s 1979 play Bent. In its inception [Bent] worked to address the social issues surrounding homosexuals as being viewed as something ‘other’ as cultural outcasts, focussing on the Holocaust as its context. In itself, the title holds a number of connotations, on face value, that of the derogatory term used to describe homosexuals, but further than that it also refers to things as misshapen, not normal. Through his central characters of Max and Horst, Sherman not only works to unmask the presentation of homosexual men in Germany but also creates a reflection of the country itself in the 1930s. Whilst controversial, it was a critical success and since it played a large part in investigations during the 1980s and 90s. [Bent] achieved what some theorists are still attempting to achieve, and so we jump to the early 90s and the revelation of ‘Crip Theory’ or, in its earlier inception ‘Queer theory’. 

Crip; noun
‘A disabled person’

The term ‘crip’ emerged in the disability movement in order to combat the derogatory term of ‘cripple’. Robert McRuer, a leading theorist on ‘crip theory’ states that it’s ‘positive valences are….multiple’. The idea of ‘Crip theory’ as a practice relies on a belief, that a more accessible world, where disability exists beyond a tool for the creation of false reality. The theory has its own rigorous agenda building from personal narratives and has radicalised readings of a number of films and texts in our contemporary society. In his book Crip Theory: Cultural Signs of Queerness and Disability McRuer highlights ways in which both Crip and Queer theory do not passively act in parallel, but rather work to inform each other. 

The composition of Crip Theory is enveloped in its rise from ableist culture, in particular, the mindset of the abled heterosexual. McRuer observes that in amongst contentious homophobia and rejection of such, society, even as late as the Twentieth century learned to create an invisibility for the homosexual and the disabled in society. Crip theory considers disability to be a viable identity variable to be recognized, acknowledged and celebrated. More recently, it is argued that the abled heterosexual society has learned (somewhat) and become more flexible in the relationship with the queer, and the disabled. From this, we began to unpack the theory with regard to Martin Sherman’s Bent. Interchanging the rejection of the homosexual with that of the Jew, blurring those lines with our own experience. 

Additionally, McRuer claims that Crip theory acknowledges the historical exclusion of diverse groups within the disability community (e.g. persons of color, gay, lesbian, transgender) as a consequence of internalized oppression within the disability community’  (McRuer, 2006). More recently, theorists also argue that the abled heterosexual society has learned (somewhat) and become more flexible in the relationship with the queer, and the disabled. From this, we began to unpack the theory with regard to Martin Sherman’s Bent. Interchanging the rejection of the homosexual with that of the Jew, blurring those lines with our own experience. 

 

In order to work through these theories and employ them within Bent we turned to the belief that ‘The simplest way to present the new paradigm of the social model of disability is in stories that directly confront prejudice and discrimination.’ (Lewis, 1998). To tackle the ideas of identity and treatment of the other. As a part of the collaborative effort in the development of the work, David and I had to enable both of these theories and additional concepts to work together in order to successfully ‘crip and queer’ the original text. To begin, we began exploring our own stories, essentially becoming storytellers in our own right. Initially, I referred to disability as a dramaturgical compositional tool, observing the cultural dichotomies of disability. What I mean by cultural dichotomies are the distinct perceptions of disabilities that have been prevalent on stage for generations. As far back as Oedipus and Richard III disability in theatre relied on a black and wide predication ‘this body is inferior and that one is superior; this one is beautiful or perfect and that one is grotesque or ugly.’ This notion remains grounded in the past, and therefore in the age of pushing boundaries and exploring the human condition, disability is striving to be set free. This is why current writers attempt to revoke these conventions, attempting to untangle the [typical] representation of disability on the stage as evil. Physical disabilities often carry this connotation, the twisted body or twisted mind often creating villainous archetypes. In order for David and I to absolve ourselves of these archetypes and to find a route into ‘cripping’ the performance, we found that using disability as a dramaturgical device was just the beginning, but we must look inward to envelop ourselves, not falsifying but actualising experiences on stage as storytellers within our own right. 

‘Our lives are stories’ (Fischer)

Unlike queer and crip theories, storytelling and theatre have a rather constrained relationship. Hugh Lupton states that ‘Theatre is a formal experience-the audience and performer are separated from one another by the proscenium arch. The successful storyteller breaks down the fourth wall’ (Lupton). In acknowledging this predicated belief of counter-culturalists, we began to work on the philosophical belief of sien V schein (being V illusion). We wanted to, using ourselves as the frame, meld the fictional with the factual – our lives against those of Horst and Max. Using the dramatic text as a basis we began to work on how, if in any way, do we mirror our characters. We did this by adhering to the notion that ‘storytellers reject literary text as a fictional matrix who existence changes the material truth of theatre into a deceitful illusion’ (Borowski). Instead, we wanted our stories to enhance the experience, only injecting a sample of our personal reflections, but enough to crip the linear function of the piece. 

In telling stories we are creating a bridge between ourselves and the audience, when you tell a story you are [sometimes unintentionally] creating an empathic bridge in which you permit the audience to read your feelings and openly share them amongst the room. The difficulty we face is that growing up in a post-modern era we have been taught to de-construct, to read between the lines. However, we must go further than this in the 21st century, taking into consideration whose stories are we telling, and who are they for? Playwright John Belluso, [as cited by Lewis] is said to have coined the use of ‘double and triple identities’ with a focus of mixing race, gender, and disability in his works, which in turn presents a difficult opportunity for the audience to create their own central narrative which is strictly focussed on disability. If we are to consider that the play has the potential reach further than our own identities and delve into the complexities in the treatment of the other then employing the idea of double and triple identities as a dramaturgical device would stand to reason.