Great Performances Have Form and Purpose

Every great performance has an idea behind it: it has a ‘shape’ and a purpose; it tells a story.

The story may have a recognizable ‘plot’ – and there are a limited number of plotlines in the world (opinions vary as to how many) – or it may be vaguer, more emotional.

The effect is the same. When we experience a great performance, we are engaged; we are taken on a journey that tells us something about the experience of being human.

A good story grabs the audience: our protagonist sets off on a quest, encountering many temptations and dangers on their journey. They face overwhelming obstacles but overcome them; they find fame and glory but are dragged down to disaster by their inner demons; boy meets girl, loses girl, then finds her again and wins her back.

These stories have gripped us for millennia. It doesn’t matter that we have seen them before – everyone has seen them before. What matters is: a.) that we tell a great story and b.) the manner of the telling.

We know the story of Hamlet, but a brilliant new adaptation brings us fresh insights and reveals new layers of meaning. We know the story of It’s a Wonderful Life, but we will watch James Stewart’s performance several times in our lifetime and be moved and uplifted every time.

Music and dance may follow a clear plotline, or they may work more directly on our emotions. As we follow the performers on their emotional journey, we learn something about what it means to be human.

The point of any performance is to engage – to take the audience on an emotional journey.

STORYTELLING

ENGAGEMENT

Stories are memorable. We are distressingly good at forgetting most things, but we never forget a good story. Once the story begins, the details are recalled, as if by magic.

Peter Rabbit has three sisters, called Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail. They live with their mother in a sandbank beneath a very big fir tree. Peter Rabbit’s father had suffered an unfortunate accident in the nearby garden of Mr McGregor: he’d been put in a pie by Mrs McGregor. Peter’s mother warns Peter never to go into Mr McGregor’s garden.

What could possibly happen next? We immediately care about Peter, in his little blue coat. We hope that he will survive his inevitable adventure in Mr McGregor’s garden. We are, finally, greatly relieved when Peter is tucked up in bed that night by his mother, suffering only from the effects of eating too many of Mr McGregor’s vegetables.

If we fail to tell stories, we fail to engage people’s emotions and we run the risk that they will not remember what we have said.

Tell a compelling story, and the opposite happens. Our audience engages with us, and they remember what we have to say.

You may be aware of the British television dance contest, Strictly Come Dancing. You may even have watched the programme.

In the show, celebrities with little or no dance experience are teamed up with professional ballroom dancers and given two weeks to learn their first televised dance routine.

A panel of experts judge each couple’s performance, and the viewing public get to vote for their favourites. Contestants are whittled down week by week in a process of elimination, leading to an eventual winning couple.

Each week, the judges offer their expert advice to the celebrity dancers to help them improve their performance. Coached by their professional dancer, the celebrities’ dancing improves – and they learn that the most successful dances have strong characterization and narrative.

One of the judges, Dame Darcy Bussell, who became principle dancer with the UK’s Royal Ballet at the age of 20, gave this advice to two contestants in the programme’s 2018 season:

“Think of your narrative. It will give you purpose.”