The Art of Dialogue. Jurij Alschitz

is how my dialogue looks to me. Since time immemorial, Art, with its diverse methods, de­monstrates the ability of human fantasy to create unbelievable creations – not subservient to the human mind – out of parts which cannot possibly exist together by the logic of reality. Furthermore, we can note not only people’s ability but also their passionate, and at times inexplicable, wish to unite and create what does not exist and what cannot exist. I’m certain that much more of this kind of passionate striving is needed from the actors, when holding a dialogue – to unite, to re-imagine, in order to make the miraculous.

      Of course, we are people. It’s difficult for us, on the basis of our micro-knowledge of psychology, to imagine the life of centaurs, satyrs, mermaids, griffins, Harpies, minotaurs, and many other beautiful creatures. It’s really difficult for us to imagine what intensive dialogue goes on inside them, between one part of the being and the other. But it goes on, and very intensively. Look carefully: inside the Centaur, there is the constant stamping and jumping of dialogue between man and animal, knowledge and intuition, culture and wildness. The Centaur can manage all types of gait, which means that all types of movement must exist in Dialogue. It has its pirouettes, cantering, gallop and so on. Can you see before your eyes, how, in such a dialogue the human is leading, but now the bird’s nature takes over, and suddenly the snake appears but now the lion is roaring? This dual, and constantly shifting, nature of such mythological beings is universal. They have a special mental structure, a special dialogical way of thinking. The creative, shared way of thinking between two – this is a special method of existence. That is what’s important! This is the very quality which should be manifest in the actor in the process of a dialogue. To arrive there, we’ll need to dedicate a whole series of exercises to this shared way of thinking and joint creativity.

      Now let’s go on… Studying the private life of my favourite centaurs, I have become convinced that there is no confrontation in the phenomenon of the centaur’s life. And this made me happy. It is not a conflictual being, in spite of the severity of its disposition. In the centaur, both of his composite parts strive for harmony. It is predicated on the fact that, as in a dialogue, two different natures, not two opposing facts, are uniting. Person - horse, actor - role, reality - fantasy. These combinations do not suppose a battle of sides, in a dialogue, with the necessary or desired victory of one over the other. Because the victory or defeat of one of these natures, ends the life of the other, and that means, it ends the very meaning of the idea of a dialogical whole, it destroys dialogue. This fully coincides with the theory of the Unity of the world. Everything is mutually linked and whole. I will talk about this below. So, anyway, I realised that dialogue is in no way synonymous with a conflictual dialectic. It is, of course, similar, but in any case it’s different. The main thing is, I saw in my centaur-dialogue, that there is no battle in it, no aggression. And this became, for me, the main rule of working with dialogue.

      So that’s what I can say in brief about “my” dialogue.

      My dialogue is a centaur because a centaur is the image and model of conjoined life.

      My dialogue is a delicate and happy combination of un-combinable lives.

      My dialogue is the elegant art of thinking together and jointly revealing the new.

      My dialogue is, like the centaur, strong and full of powerful energy, shaped by two opposing natures.

      My dialogue is the striving for an unlimited space of the metaphysical world.

      My dialogue is a constructive collaboration, an artistic creation, but never an aggressive conflict.

      Now you should answer for yourself – which image does your dialogue have? Don’t rush. Your answer is there ahead of you. Discuss it with me. Write down all your thoughts and ideas. And only after doing that, move on to the second question.

1 Ariosto, L., Orlando Furioso. Translation from the Italian by William Stuart Rose (1996). Stanza L2.

      Available at: www.gutenberg.net

      Second question:

      What type of dialogue is the playwright proposing?

      For this, specific knowledge of the different types of dialogue are needed. You have found out about some of them already, and you will find out about others from this book and I hope it will help you a bit. But mainly, as I said above, try to find this out for yourself. Do not look for ready-made ­answers; ask yourself questions. How, and from what moment or word, does the playwright start the dialogue? How does the playwright develop it? What changes in the dialogue – where, when? Who holds the dialogue here, in this part, and now who, in this other part? What stages of development does the dialogue go through? What does the playwright lead the dialogue towards?

      Still at first glance, even before going deeper into the play’s content, it’s clear when a great playwright is writing dialogue and when it’s a bad playwright. The bad one does it this way: question-answer, question-answer. The good playwright does it differently: question… then text about something completely different, then a reply but that’s already on another page. So, this is quality dialogue. But if the dialogue is built like steps, one after the other, then in this primitive composition, the dialogue will crawl like a snail. Then, all of the transitions, all of the answers to the questions, can be guessed beforehand. Then, there is no space, no space for playfulness, no space for ideas, no space for the theme. There will be no creativity and no revelations will take place. You will reach the end of the thought or the end of the text, comfortably, without hurrying, and that’s it – good night. Sleep well. No magic. The dialogue needs not only to walk but to run… well, and even to jump two or three steps at a time like a naughty schoolboy. It’s like in chess – you’ll never achieve anything with a combination of two or three moves, you need to sketch out a plan ten to twelve moves ahead. So if you come across a two or three-move dialogue, turn away from it, don’t waste your time working on it; it is, as a general rule, an imitation, not a dialogue.

      In trying to ascertain how the playwright sees the dialogue, you need to take note that some dialogues are written to play the words, while other dialogues have been written to play the situation or so that the dialogue lives mainly in the pauses. Try to define this at the very start of your work. The point is that these are different types of dialogue and it’s only common sense that different rules apply to each of them.

      Now, a few words about this, then later on in the chapter Dialogue of Words and Without Words, I’ll discuss it in more detail. In a dialogue of words, i. e. when words are the most important thing, this is the rule: the words must necessarily be translated into feelings, emotions, into physical life and then, every time, they will evoke a splash of emotion in the actor and prompt him with the next move and the direction of the game. In these kinds of dialogue, the actor doesn’t need to work things out logically (that won’t give him much), but rather to listen emotionally and see how it unfolds.

      If a dialogue is built on pauses, then its basis is behaviour, physical action, and words are only the background (and there will be more about this later).

      If a dialogue is built on game-playing, then you need to define or create the environment, the circumstances of the dialogue, the territory of its existence, the rules and principles of the game, the initial event of the scene and so on, and then after that suggest a composition, a movement of words, vectors of interaction and so on.

      Once you’ve defined the playwright’s principles, take them into consideration in your work. But don’t rush into becoming its slave or observing it too dogmatically. Take note that in a good dialogue, the principles can change frequently. The frequent shift of rules is a sign of a living modern dialogue. And if the playwright doesn’t have these shifts, then be more bold and change them yourselves. Take note that each time, when changing the rules, the dialogue turns in all directions, and as a result shows different facets, and it naturally only benefits from this. Well, if, after all, you choose only one dramaturgical principle, only one type of dialogue, then pay close attention to where there are exceptions from the rule. Something isn’t right – and the alien elements will become spirits of your dialogue.

      The definition of the type of dialogue