The Art of Dialogue. Jurij Alschitz

in each dialogue that you are working on or will work on. I am certain you will manage to find one. Even if they are tiny, or they live momentarily, they must necessarily be there: in a word, glance or staging. From this moment of agreement, you can build a whole dialogue. Of course, if you understand dialogue as a battle, then the rules of war will be at work – there are no equals on the battle field. But if dialogue means agreement to you, then we need to use another rule – on the peace field, all are equal.

In 1933, two weeks before the Nazis brutally seized power, an event occurred which revealed the extreme heights and measure of a true Dialogue of agreement: on the 14th of January, the Jewish theologian and philosopher, Martin ­Buber, and protestant theologian Karl Ludwig Schmidt met in Stuttgart and, in the process of dialogue, declared their contempt for antisemitism as well as their belief in the spiri­tual kinship of Christianity and Judaism. 3 But before ­beginning their dialogue, they found a general field for it. “The great divine gates are wide open for all religions” – this was the territory of their agreement. The territory of agreement, where you can speak the differences and incompatibilities of your views, does not in any way mean refuting your own religious, artistic, or even just human, preferences. It’s a territory of peace with no room for enmity.

      It is always present in Plato. His work has everything: ingenious moves, suspense, traps which attract and demoralise his “rival”, tricks of meanings, knocking him to the side. In his dialogues, he can bring his adversary to mental paralysis or lay him out cold, as the saying goes, but then hold out his hand to him and help him back up onto his feet. And that’s wonderful. You will see how this is reflected in some of the exercises I have suggested in the training section, such as “Balance”, in which you need to disrupt your partner’s balance, but at the same time look after him, not letting him fall, and at the critical moment, offering him an assisting hand. Pay attention to the way not one of the protagonists in Plato, however savagely they are leading, never has the desire to finish off, dismiss or destroy his partner. Even the idea of that cannot arise, let alone become an aim. This is very important for a general understanding of Dialogue.

      Unfortunately, throughout our history, we have learnt to see what separates us more clearly than what unites us. And the fruits of this “science” are clearly felt in the work of directors and in the game of the majority of actors. I think that this is the destructive path of dialogue. We need to ­escape constant aggression, irreconcilability, scandalous expansionism, on stage. There’s little you can achieve like that. We should free ourselves from that, on stage. Dialogue is never a mortal fight. Look again at how benevolent the characters of Plato’s dialogue are, in their very essence. So much humour, irony and elegance. Does that hinder a serious relationship with the dialogue’s theme or a sincere striving to reveal the new? Of course, in dialogue there is an element of competition, of game, and that’s wonderful. The process of playing can be more important, in them, than the result, and at times the game itself is their result. Well, the opponents haven’t revealed anything specially new but we have played joyfully, beautifully. And both players are pleased. At times, dialogue is needed for the sake of dialogue. Dialogue, in order not to stop. Dialogue – as the only way for all of us to live together, peacefully and happily. From the very beginning, when the art of dialogue was conceived, it was seen as an instrument for unification, for revelation, and not for the destruction of the adversary and his ideas. Of course, the form of dialogue can be very much like battle. It is fine to make a revelation into a thorny discussion, at the edge of the possible, powered by explosions of energy. As the Russian expression goes, only a heated debate can give birth to the burning truth. But even that is not the general rule. The famous Socrates, the main participant of nearly all of Plato’s dialogues, was not even remotely a hero, like Odysseus, or a warrior, like Achilles. He’s more like a benevolent and sociable joker, not at all an aggressive person. He discovered that the world around us is perceived so differently by each and every individual. And that made him happy.

      The differences are important. They are important for energy – which is one of the most important concepts in the life of a dialogue. It is these juxtapositions of differences which give rise to, nurture and develop the energy of a dialogue. But the energy of differences is only part of its overall energy. First, we need to open the energy of the source, the energy of motivation of the dialogue. Think about this: why does Socrates, in Plato’s dialogues, start up a dialogue in the streets, in the squares, by looking for passers-by on the roads? What does he need? Where is the energy of his original interest? (Let me point out immediately: All of these questions are built on a psychological premise and are not quite right for an analysis of the work of Plato. His psychological movements are not so important as the movement of thought itself. Nevertheless I am ready to make this mistake for the sake of gaining an understanding of the basis of the laws of dialogue.) Notice how Socrates enters a dialogue with people not to convince them of something but in order to find out who they are and for something else as well. Socrates enters a dialogue, based on the fact that he knows only one thing – that he doesn’t know anything. The energy for the beginning of a dialogue is concealed in this already famous position of Socrates. It is the energy of taking “being unprepared” as one’s own position.

      Notice that the originating essence of energy from the Socratic position does not consist of wasting energy in planting one’s own thoughts and images in the head of the collocutor – a vulgar, primitive teaching – but it is rather the “cultivating” of thoughts and what is born out of each of our own creative potentials. It is the energy of the artist kindling the artistic in another person; this is the task of the actor in relation to the audience; to awaken the artistic in a person’s soul, to help the artist to be born – the Socratic dialogue serves this aim, and this is the basis for the other part of its energy.

      But there is also one other source of energy. Notice how it’s no less important for Socrates to participate in the re­velation, in the process of dialogue with his partner. It’s important for him, too, to reveal a truth – together with his partner. Make a note of the fact that the revelation is not only important for the other but also for you yourself. In a dialogue, it’s important not only to reveal a truth, but also to reveal yourself against the background of this truth. This is another powerful motivation for the start of a dialogue – to find out about yourself! And it’s a huge source of energy. Looking at the main theme of the dialogue, engaging in a search for truth, both sides simultaneously examine themselves: their own spiritual, moral and aesthetic values.

“For me,” says Socrates in the dialogue Protagoras, “the main thing is investigation of the question itself, however it can happen incidentally that we investigate the one who is asking, in other words, myself as well as the person who is answering.” And at another place in the same dialogue: “you and me (…) we should speak from within, with each other, to investigate the truth and ourselves” 4.

      I was taught: “I” is not important in dialogue, only “You”, your partner. He’s important for you and you’re important for him. That’s true but I’m certain that in dialogue you have to also hear your own “I”. If there’s no “I”, then there won’t be a “You”. The actor in dialogue must always find time for himself. He must say to himself – it’s also my dialogue and it’s personally important to me to come to an agreement with myself. In this way, Socrates constantly searches for an agreement with himself. He never finds peace. He is ceaselessly searching. He constantly starts dialogues, for that reason. He always searches but it seems that he never finds it. In this “never” is hidden his energetic “perpetuum mobile” – the unending search for unity with himself. In this very same way, the actor should search for this unity inside himself, in the process of dialogue. This is essential for the actor. This striving for unity, for harmony, is also essential for each character.

      But this still isn’t everything about the initiating energy of dialogue. One wise old saying goes: “if you want to gather everything together, throw everything into all four corners”. This expression means that you can only arrive at unity by unavoidably going through a phase of division. Remember Plato’s Symposium – and if you don’t, or if you haven’t read it yet, then read