Audience, Actors, Equilibrium?

"One cannot have literature in the complete absence of language, or music in the complete absence of sound." (David Osipovich, 'What is a Theatrical Performance?' 2006)

So, I offer this old question, what is it that theatre can't do without?

When I think of a theatre, it's true that my initial image is of a red curtain, a proscenium arch and velvet fold-down seats. When I think a little more adventurously than this, I imagine something like the Cottesloe theatre at the National Theatre, or the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs at the Royal Court: something that maintains the functions of lighting, sound, and a backdrop, but is open to experiment. Beyond that, I jump straight to a street scene, where a group of performers are surrounded by a clear-cut circle of spectators, clapping and dancing along to music from a stereo. In this scene, the backdrop is non-existent, if you want a seat you can sit on the floor, and the theatre bar is probably a nearby Pret A Manger or Wetherspoon pub. But what all of these images have in common is that the audience and the performers are separate to each other. It is they who are engaged by the performers, whereby a margin between them is created. Nay, unavoidable.

I've written before about how I view a potential in theatre that takes a step further than 'breaking' the fourth wall, by instead extending it. Immersive experiences such as the work of Theatre Delicatessen or Secret Cinema come somewhat close, where the audience are part of the action, but what if the script were to depend on the audience? Of course, the audience and the performers are already in mutual respect of their need for each other for a production to take place. To create the unique mood of a performance, a play needs the laughter, tears, coughs and sneezes of the audience as much as it needs the words and gestures of the actor. It is in this respect that no performance is ever the same as the next, like tea, or a sunset, or the way leaves grow on a tree. But what if they really needed each other? What if the play could not exist without that very audience? And here, I don't mean those productions that utilise the sounds and movements of the audience to narrate the action on stage, because in that way the audience become the act. No, what I am searching for is an equilibrium.

The closest thing I have seen to this was a piece of street theatre in Covent Garden. The performer had placed a ladder against a pillar of the market place, taken a seat in the audience, and joined us in applauding the ladder. He asked a man to time how long he could juggle swords for, and physically moulded us into the shape of an audience that allowed others to pass through the market, unheeded by our presence. In this way, the audience, essentially, consisted of the whole of the market, because hearing or seeing him was unavoidable. We needed to see him to understand the commotion, and when we applauded the ladder, we looked to him for guidance as to why or for how long. Likewise, his act would not have existed were it not for us. But can we bring this equilibrium into a theatre? In honesty, I don't know how, or what it would look like. But I am confident that if my idea of it exists, then it can too.