Performer’s Phenomenological Experience in BROS by Romeo Castellucci
Murilo Ortunho (Trinity College Dublin, The University of Dublin)
Performing in BROS, directed by Romeo Castellucci and staged at the O’Reilly Theatre as part of the Dublin Theatre Festival 2022, had a great impact on me: it made me question the generational violence that permeates throughout cultures, limiting beliefs that justify abominable acts, and silence in the face of injustice. As a Brazilian artist living in Dublin, I had the immense pleasure of taking part in the production with a multicultural cast to perform in such a thought-provoking piece that portrays systemic issues in our society. The performance was aesthetically outstanding and controversial, leaving some audience members terrified, and even causing a considerable amount to leave the theatre at specific moments.
Before the show began, we had to stand backstage in a narrow and dark space. Although this factor, in my conception, is related to the physical space of the theatre, and not necessarily to the show, it contributed to our incorporation of the nebulous aura of BROS. Our bodies were deprived of their senses and placed in a suffocating, claustrophobic, and crowded environment—all twenty police officers. The costumes were heavy and uncomfortable, and the hat almost covered our eyes. We had earphones and tapes covering our ears. Our bodies were isolated from the outside world. I had to search for a place in my mind where nothing could disturb me. We were limited to the space confinement and places we walked through on stage and to the commands we were given; to our understanding of the whole picture of the play. As an artist, this experience allowed me to dive into myself and overcome a new challenge. It plunged me into a dark, dystopian world, and made me question the violence that is passed down from one generation to the next in society, or, even worse, the violence that we may perpetuate on ourselves.
As one of the twenty police officers in BROS, I was instructed to perform staged violent actions that later caused me to reflect on violent acts I have witnessed on the streets, the police brutality scandals in the US (and worldwide); when people keep quiet when witnessing injustice or even when I was mistreated by immigration officers in Europe. It made me question how I would have behaved or “which side I would be on” if I were launched in the middle of a revolution, under a tyrannical dictatorship. I thought of the uncountable Holocaust victims; of those who had been forced to emigrate, like Irish emigrants or the Palestinians I have met when living in my hometown, São Paulo; of the current wars and conflicts; and of the conservative and repressive governments. We live in a society that was built on violence and makes constant use of it to exert power and control.
Nothing was questioned and there was no significance given to anything. It was simple: we did what “the voice”—an MP3 recording—told us to do. This meta-performance, which in itself portrayed structural fascism and symbolic violence, was fundamental to delving into the dark nebula created by Castellucci and his company. At a certain point during rehearsals, our names were changed by numbers (which corresponded to the number of our MP3 player) and so we were called during the scenes when we rehearsed in separate groups. The fascist structure itself, the one that does not question or inform, is mechanised and dehumanised, reduced us to mere controlled puppets.
After days of extensive rehearsals, the audience’s presence at the O’Reilly Theatre during the show’s premiere completely changed the atmosphere of the performance. Even though I was entirely focused on the commands I received, I felt startled by the presence of scenic artefacts that were not present during rehearsals, such as fire, smoke, and full lighting. This was, in fact, one of the most sensorial experiences I had the opportunity to live, feeling cold, heat, textures, and smells, like the honeyed texture of the fake blood that ran down my face and torso but was later washed with running water. There was also water that was thrown at us with a hose and that cooled us from the intense heat of the rush, of the fire, of the smoke. The intense sounds of guns and machinery, as well as the coughs of the audience, were also part of that perfectly orchestrated war zone.
The sombre, dystopian atmosphere of BROS, therefore, began to form before we walked on stage, unifying the performers and transforming us into one big brotherhood, whereby atrocities were excused in the name of a higher purpose. This brotherhood was formed by twenty performers who agreed on changing their appearance, from shaving beards and keeping only the moustaches (some even had fake ones), to dressing the New York Police Department uniform and hat. In this scenario, our identities slowly vanished. During the performance, I could see a few friends from the stage who, with their gazes locked on me, later stated that they did not identify me onstage, amidst the myriad of events that took over that space. This confirms the power of uniformity over the performers, symbolising the erasure of our identity.
The moment that sent shivers down my spine was when we knelt before the sculpted idol. We paid homage to this figure that embodied the monstrous, totalitarian leaders or other notorious individuals. Two dogs that were brought onstage barked as we slowly danced with our truncheons, assuming positions of submission and devotion. We knelt and extended our arms as if to embrace and welcome this entity. It felt as though I was part of a cult or religious ceremony that aimed to create a transcendent atmosphere, seeking a connection with the divine. The possibilities were infinite. Evil was manifested in this setting as our individual identities blended into one, symbolising institutional brutality and the brotherhood created by Castellucci.
I could only see what was taking place on stage when I had to place myself at the stage’s sides and stay there until the next order. We reproduced classical paintings as the play unfolded, each of us portraying distinct roles without knowing what the other performers were doing. During one of these moments, I saw the scene which seemed to recreate the 1632 painting, The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, by Rembrandt, or the 1787’s The Death of Socrates, by Jacques-Louis David, in which Socrates takes hemlock. In my phenomenological interpretation as a performer in this show, all these signs represented an aesthetic of violence and alienation, associated with the oppressive foundation of society. A seductive aesthetic that streams through generations and penetrates our culture and identity.
The events taking place onstage were so many that every opportunity I took I framed it in my memory with attention—such as when I bathed in blood and then, by washing it with running water, it painted a white cloth red, which later was used as a blood flag in the composition of one of the paintings, the 1818’s The Raft of the Medusa, by Théodore Géricault. Each scene swiftly materialised and even faster liquified made me not want the performance to ever end. A gravitational field had formed there, drawing me progressively closer to its centre. Just as gravity affects time, the time operating in that place was utterly accelerated. The sensory overload, the continual arrhythmia of the performance, the vibrations of the ground that echoed as a consequence of the sound design, the changes in lighting, and the fog, made the 90-minute show seem to be just 15 minutes long.
My experience as a performer in BROS proved to be a challenging and unsettling one. Reflecting on the performance is a difficult task, as the scope of my vision is largely confined to my own actions on stage. It is the audience who has a much greater claim to expound on BROS, for the fragmented construction of the piece had already commenced during the casting period, giving rise to a show with multiple strata of meaning. During my participation in the performance, I felt the full weight of social and cultural norms, particularly those surrounding generational violence and its use as a means of controlling and wielding power in society. The show also provoked ambivalent sensations within me and could be construed as a satirical commentary on society, laying bare its contradictions and absurdities for all to see.
Lastly, my involvement with BROS has provided me with invaluable lessons and given me the opportunity to delve into the most opaque core of my psyche. Just as the body keeps the score, BROS, by Romeo Castellucci, will remain in the retreats of my mind and in my body as an artist.
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