Features
Photography: A Primitive Theatre
BY Saumya Liyanage
(Text of a keynote address delivered at the annual Diploma Certificate Award Ceremony, organised by the National Photographic Art Society, Sri Lanka, on the 26 October 2024)
When a photograph of the main protagonist, Joseph, in the play Antique Kadayaka Maranayak (‘Death in an Antique Shop’), written and directed by Asoka Handagama, was shared on Facebook, a much awaited discussion erupted among theatregoers on how this image captured the true essence of the play. The playwright and director Handagama had also commented on Facebook, stating that the photographer, Sagara Lakmal de Mel, has captured the ‘full coverage of the play’ (Handagama, Facebook, 4th June 2023). This statement and the comments received for the Facebook post aroused a question of how photography links with theatre. How could a still image depict the essence of a play? Why is a still image of a play so important for us to understand the nature of acting, mise en scène, and other aspects of theatre?
Theatre photography has not been a major interest of the Sri Lankan photographers who capture the actors’ work on stage. It is very seldom that theatre productions are being captured by photographic documentation with a purpose of archiving and research. Photographers who are involved with theatre productions very often think of documenting theatre performances for the sake of documenting the “event” rather than systematically capturing the essence of the live performance. This paper therefore intends to explore the affinity between photography and theatre. Though these two art forms seem categorically different from each other, this short write-up attempts to suggest a convergence between these two art forms or, rather, sheds light on how these two art forms can be intermingled.
One of the fundamental questions that triggered my mind on photography is why photography is important for us to consider as a reflection of our own world and time. Some of the key features of photography include providing us with memories, preserving the past and our human and natural histories, capturing what we perceive as reality around us, and representing the lives of both humans and animals. Some experts say that photography captures time, memory, duration, presence, love, loss, mourning, and nostalgia. I am aware that photography is an industry. It is a commercial industry where people can make lots of money out of it. However, my question does not comply with the photographic industry but is directed towards the art of photography or the “ontological desire” of photography.
As an actor, I have been fascinated by the presence, absence, and the embodiment of meanings in images. In theatre arts, presence and absences are key elements in a live performance. As Peggy Phelan argues, ‘Performance’s only life is in the present […] The document of Performance […] is only a spur to memory, an encouragement of memory to become present’ (Phelan 1993, p. 146). The nature of live theatre is thus always ephemeral. But photography captures images and preserves them in a particular time and space. However, in terms of its presence and absence of images, photography shares the same phenomenological implications with theatre.

This image of Saumya Liyanage in the play Antique Kadayaka Maranayak (Death in an Antique Shop), shared on Facebook, provoked debate. Photo credit: Sagara Lakmal de Mel.
It is vital for me to emphasise the phenomenological implications of photography because the young generation of photographers should at least be aware of the breadth and depth of the art they use. As you may know, one of the classical writings on photography is Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography, written by French philosopher and semiotician Roland Barthes. In this collection of essays, Barthes articulates his ideas on photography and shows us how the majority of theorists see resemblances between photography and paintings. However, Barthes argues that photography is more directly linked with theatre than visual art or painting. ‘Photography is a kind of primitive theatre, a kind of Tableau Vivant, (a tableau vivant is a static scene containing one or more actors or models), a figuration of the motionless and made-up face beneath which we see the dead’ (Barthes, 1993, pp. 31-32).
After watching Brecht’s play Mother Courage and Her Children in Paris, Barthes wrote an important paper titled ‘Seven Photo Models of Mother Courage.’ In this essay, Barthes had selected seven photographs taken during the staging of Mother Courage. During this performance, a photojournalist named ‘Pic’ had taken a series of photos using a telephoto lens that captured the vital moments of the play. Another essay written by Barthes titled “Diderot, Brecht, Eisenstein” (1973) further widened his discussion about the value of photography in analyzing mise en scène of the play.

German Actor, Helen Weigal’s ‘Silent scream’ in Mother Courage and Her Children by Bertolt Brecht. The image was captured by a photojournalist in 1957 when Berliner Ensemble staged the play for the second time in Paris.
Barthes argues that when studying Brecht’s plays, it is important to focus on the “Pregnant Moments” of the scenic situations. Photography as a medium of capturing these “Pregnant Moments” is vital to understanding the tableaux. ‘In so doing, photography would function as a technology for the recording of the tableaux created by the playwright /metteur-en-scène’ (Carmody, 1990, p. 31). When studying Brecht’s plays, this tableaux represents Brecht’s key concept of gestus (a gesture, or a set of gestures that can be read as a social demeanor of a character).
The idea of Tableau Vivant is vital for us to further understand how this still photograph is linked with theatre and its theatrical presence. Theatre is performed in a particular space and time, with actors and additional auxiliary arts such as costumes, sets, lighting, and makeup. Thus, theatre is a series of photographic images, connected to each other as ‘animated photographs’ revealing human behaviour within the chosen time and space. The photographic frame is replaced in theatre by the proscenium arch, limiting our perception within the given scenic situation. Even though theatre showcases animated human figures and objects, it is a series of imagery in which the frozen images of humans and other objects are placed and choreographed to make meaningful situations. As Barthes suggests, photography is thus a “primitive theatre,” a tableau of human figures, and also a “made-up face” beneath which we see the “dead” (ibid, 1993).
How do we understand Barthes’ analysis of tableau figures in photographs as the representation of death? Barthes uses a metaphor here to discuss how the subjects in photographs represent death by referring to traditional Asian dance dramas such as Noh, Kabuki, and Kathakali. In these traditional theatres, actors appear with heavy makeup and costumes. In most of the traditional shamanic performances, the shaman represents both the death, demonic spirits, and the living at the same time. The Sharman also appears in front of the audience, the villagers with the painted faces signifying his performative nature of living and the dead.
Thus, Barthes concludes that the human tableau figures presented in photographs are similar to Sharman, who perform death and being with living on the same plain. Now, for me, photography is something theatrical and performative through which the photographer animates her/his figures in the stillness. Photographs present performative elements through their objects and animate them in our perceptual world. Though they appear as still images, they are masked with dead as Barthes postulates and ignite certain referents and generate meanings. As I have argued, theatre and photography are interrelated arts. There are many scholars who have studied the convergences of theatre and photography, and at the same time, philosophically there are some differences pertaining to these forms of art (Carmody, 1990). It is clearly evident that photography has been an integral part of the development of modern theatre. Scholars who have studied early 19th and 20th century modern theatre in the West and East have used photographic images as references to study the nature of theatre at the time. Photography thus has preserved the historical development of theatre and its culture in diverse countries and nations.
Today, we live in a world where photographic images are part and parcel of our daily realities. We all are, to some extent, photographers whose digital apparatuses are in action all the time. We all have the privilege of documenting and creating images of what we like and dislike. Further, we have the chance to display our images on various social media platforms. Our daily lives are becoming more and more visually transformed realities, and our narcissism is to capture our own lives and display them for the consumption of others. As Karel Vanhaesebrouck argues, ‘Not only is the impact of a camera fundamentally theatrical from the moment it selects a fragment of reality, but our society and its day-to-day organisation function along theatrical lines’ (Vanhaesebrouck, 2009).
References
Barthes, R. (1993). Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography. London: Vintage Books.
Carmody, J. (1990). Reading Scenic Writing: Barthes, Brecht, and Theatre Photography. The Journal of Dramatic Theory and Criticism, 5(1), 25–38.
Barthes, R. and Bernays, H.F. (1967). Seven Photo Models of ‘Mother Courage’. TDR (1967-1968), 12(1), p.44. doi:https://doi.org/10.2307/1125292.
Vanhaesebrouck, K. (2009). Theatre, performance studies and photography: a history of permanent contamination. Visual Studies, 24(2), 97–106. https://doi.org/10.1080/14725860903106104
(Saumya Liyanage is an actor and professor in drama and theatre, currently working at the Department of Theatre Ballet and Modern Dance, Faculty of Dance and Drama, University of Visual and Performing Arts, Colombo.)
Features
Eastern University and the making of a culture of peace
by Jehan Perera
There is an important change in the way peace is being understood in Sri Lanka. The notion that peacebuilding is not simply the responsibility of governments, politicians and peace organisations, but is also a responsibility of educational institutions, appears to be permeating the consciousness of at least a section of the academic community. This was visible on International Peace Day at an event held at Eastern University by the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences. The event was unusual not least because the medical and nursing faculty of the university had decided that peacebuilding was relevant to its academic and professional responsibilities.
Peacebuilding has too often been treated as something undertaken after conflict, when the fighting has stopped and the immediate task is to rebuild relationships between communities. But peace cannot be sustained by governments and peace organisations alone. If it is to become long lasting, the values and practices of peace have to become part of the institutions through which a society educates its younger generations. Universities and other educational institutions are therefore important to peacebuilding. They are among the places where the foundations of a culture of peace can either be built or neglected.
The experience of the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences at Eastern University provides a practical example of what this can mean. Led by its Dean, Prof Thillainathan Sathaananthan, the faculty organised an event which went beyond the ordinary academic scope of a medical faculty. University academics are experts in writing project proposals and applying for research grants. On this occasion, the members of the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences used those skills to apply for a UNESCO grant that they won to conduct an International Peace Day event. The significance lies less in the Rs 200,000 grant than in the decision to use the university’s institutional capacity and resources to invest in peacebuilding. The event at Eastern University needs to be understood as more than a successful university programme. It represents a possible paradigm shift in peace thinking.
Institutional Commitment
The Peace Day event obtained the support of the university administration, including Vice Chancellor Prof P Peratheepan, and reached out to secondary schools in the vicinity to mobilise their attendance. The event itself was meticulously organised. There were cultural items including traditional and modern dance and song in the three languages, performed by combinations of solo, duet and multiple singers, dancers and actors drawn in part from nearby secondary schools. There was a panel discussion by senior academics on the general theme of peacebuilding and how to prepare for it. A discussion among the students followed, where each student spoke on behalf of a religion that was not theirs. This is significant because peacebuilding cannot remain an idea discussed by specialists at conferences. It has to become part of the way institutions educate and prepare people for life in a plural society.
The Faculty of Health-Care Sciences at Eastern University has provided a model through its Peace Medicine course modules that were introduced to the curricular as a compulsory core course over 10 years ago. Two senior academics, Dr Kuveriel Eliyas Karunakaran and Dr Thillainathan Sathaananthan, have written a book on “Peace Medicine- A Health Care Concern” that was published five years ago. Its Peace Medicine Module integrates principles of medical ethics, compassion, equity, social justice and community engagement into health education and practice. In his introduction, former Vice Chancellor of Eastern University, Prof T Jayasingam noted “This book is an introduction to a theme which had already been operating in the Faculty of Health Care Sciences as a course.”
Doctors, nurses and health workers know better than anyone the harm that war and violence does. They are the people who treat the wounds and trauma that violence leaves behind. In a hospital, a patient is not asked what their religion or ethnicity is before they are treated. Health care is one of the places where peace is practised every day. The Faculty has therefore found a way of connecting its professional responsibilities with the wider social responsibility of peacebuilding. The question is whether this experience can be replicated throughout the country, at universities and at other educational institutions, so that peacebuilding becomes part of the consciousness of education itself. If that happens on a sufficient scale, it can begin to generate a culture of peace that becomes increasingly difficult to reverse.
Local Action
The Eastern University event corresponded closely to the United Nations theme for this year’s International Day of Peace, “Invest in Peace – For Everyone, Everywhere, Every Day”, which honours the “everyday architects of peace”, people driving local action, laying the groundwork for stability and building lasting peace from the ground up. The emphasis on investment is important. An investment means that something is put in: time, courage and resources. There is no more violent conflict in Sri Lanka today. But the absence of war does not automatically produce a culture of peace. The factors that fed the country’s conflict have not disappeared from the world. Racism, corruption and the violation of laws and human rights are the raw materials of conflict. So too are unresolved grievances, discrimination and the failure to recognise the suffering of others.
A country that does not deal with its past does not escape it. The past can return in the next generation. This is why the experience of Eastern University needs to be replicated countrywide, both at universities and at other educational institutions. The objective should not be to turn every academic discipline into peace studies. Rather, peacebuilding needs to become part of the consciousness of education itself. Eastern University shows that a medical faculty can develop Peace Medicine. A law faculty can examine the relationship between justice, rights and peace. Faculties of education can prepare teachers to work in diverse communities, while the humanities and social sciences can examine the different narratives through which communities understand their histories. Every institution can find its own way of making peacebuilding relevant to what it teaches.
Sri Lanka has had many declarations, pledges and programmes in the past. What matters is whether these produce changes in behaviour and institutional practice. Peacebuilding requires confronting difficult issues rather than avoiding them. It requires respect for different identities, but also engagement across those identities. It requires dealing with grievances in the present while also addressing unresolved issues from the past. It requires truth, accountability, reparations and guarantees of non-recurrence. It requires people to learn that the rights of another community do not diminish their own rights. The International Peace Day event at Eastern University was evidence of a change in the way at least some academics in a part of the country deeply affected by war are thinking about their responsibilities. Peace needs to be invested in and the most important investment will be in the minds of those who will inherit the future.
Features
Quality assured education commodities
by Ahilan Kadirgamar
I have always noticed the little paper tags that are inside the packaging of some products that say quality assured or quality control. I often wonder who might have checked the product and stamped that tag, but I also forget the tag soon enough. Decades later, when I entered academia, I was taken aback by the emphasis placed on quality assurance in our universities. It is not something that could be forgotten and done away with; the entire university system is obsessed with quality assurance.
Beginning with the staff induction programme, quality assurance is drilled into the newly recruited lecturers. It is the norm, not seen as doing any harm and only trying to improve quality. It is accepted as given, and not questioned. Quality Assurance Cells and Committees are omnipresent and hover above the Departments and, at times, even the Faculty Boards. Quality Assurance reviews are feared by the Deans and Vice Chancellors. University life itself seems secondary to the rule of quality assurance. What do we make of this system of quality assurance and what are its implications for our university system?
Corporate speak
Universities globally have been going through major changes with neoliberal education policies. In many countries, universities increasingly became corporatised to be run like businesses in the 1980s. As state support for universities declined, cost cutting became the norm. They started hiring adjunct or part-time staff. Many public non-fee levying universities around the world began to charge fees. Decade by decade, tuition fees became more and more exorbitant, forcing students to take student loans. The total student debt in the United States now stands at close to US$ 2 trillion; which is about 20 times the GDP of Sri Lanka. As the higher education landscape transformed in the West, university administrations began to recruit Presidents, Vice Chancellors and administrative officials with corporate backgrounds and experience.
Such corporatisation of universities in the West has since been imported into countries like Sri Lanka, introducing a new corporate vocabulary, including quality assurance, graduate competencies, programme outcomes, intended learning outcomes, etc. University teaching has become secondary to documenting so-called outcomes. The teacher-student relationship, the environment of the lecture hall and even administering the university have been over-determined by the processes of ensuring quality. How did such major changes come about in such a short time? Indeed, academics of just two generation ago, would never have heard of these terms and processes in the Sri Lankan university system.
World Bank Trojan horse
Since the early 2000s there have been a number of World Bank projects that have drastically changed the character of Sri Lankan universities. Quality assurance as a central agenda within universities, and many other changes to the working of our universities, came through these World Bank initiatives. The Improving Relevance and Quality of Undergraduate Education (IRQUE) project and Higher Education for the 21st Century (HETC) project were two such earlier projects that set up the Quality Assurance and Accreditation Unit (QAAU) under the University Grants Commission (UGC) and established systematic quality assurance reviews for state universities. The public often thinks these are grants from the World Bank to modernise our universities. However, they are not grants but loans.
The most recent such project, Accelerating Higher Education Expansion and Development (AHEAD) is a US$ 100 million loan from the World Bank implemented from 2018 to 2023, which consolidated the quality assurance structures from the earlier projects. Furthermore, these projects are implemented with tremendous arrogance, prioritising their implementation over all other concerns in the universities, when the project over six years for example accounts for just one fourth of our budget allocation for universities this year.
The AHEAD project drastically changed course curricula, sought to increase student enrolment in science, technology, engineering, mathematics (STEM) disciplines, commercialise the university research agenda and create university-business linkages. All of this was pushed to supposedly help us face development challenges. We have heard the ideological attack on our universities and even students claiming they are “unemployable graduates”. These changes to our higher education system were supposedly going to create jobs and increase employment.
The irony of the AHEAD project is that just as it was ending in 2023, apparently after having reached its targets, the Sri Lankan economy was collapsing. The World Bank often gets the direction of causality wrong. It is the economy that creates jobs for graduates, and not the training or kind of graduates that create jobs. It is decades of World Bank policies, and those of its ideological twin the IMF, that have led to such high youth unemployment, not only in Sri Lanka but also in many other countries in the global South.
Sri Lanka entered an IMF agreement in March 2023 and started a new Country Partnership Framework with the World Bank in June 2023. These programmes have little to say about, and actively discourage, government initiatives that aim to create an industrial policy or an employment creation policy. Instead, they push for austerity measures, which not only restrict the allocation for education among other sectors, but also end up contracting the economy to the detriment of increasing employment. Their goal is the commercialisation of higher education, to make universities into businesses and run them like factories.
In this context, the ideology of quality assurance is powerful. The International Organisation for Standardisation (ISO), whose different standards are necessary for marketing, is the institution that came up with the concept of “quality assurance”. It promoted quality assurance as a process of identifying defected products. Therefore, when the World Bank promotes this conceptual framing, our students are, in fact, seen as products on the assembly line, with quality assurance processes aiming to prevent the release of defected products from the university system. For the US$ 100 million we borrowed for the AHEAD project and the many more million dollars in similar World Bank projects, there is no evidence of increased employment of graduates.
Commodity fetishism
Over a century and a half ago, Karl Marx critiqued the economic analysis prevalent at that time that associated some inherent or monetary value for commodities without considering the social relations that underlie the production of those commodities. Marx called this commodity fetishism. Furthermore, he theorised that such commodity fetishism was also a reason for the alienation of human beings from the world. If our labour and what we produce is seen devoid of the social relations that underlie them, we lose our connection with the people and the world. In this process we become alienated from what we produce and the world.
We are now in a world where our students themselves are fetishised as commodities for the market. Universities are no longer communities concerned about knowledge and human growth, but mere factories producing commodities, which have to be produced without defects to be marketed. In this way, quality assurance has become the cause for the alienation of students, academics and our universities themselves, from the larger relationship with our economy and society.
Our university system does need reform. It is grossly underfunded and not providing the financial support and facilities for our students. Universities have become hierarchical spaces without the academic freedom and democratic ethos necessary for producing knowledge. Academics and students need to engage more with their communities to make their learning and research meaningful, not to mention their contribution to and integration with society. However, when it comes to even questions of governance and regulation of the universities, such concerns are merely reduced to improving quality. In our contemporary times, this singular focus on quality assurance, as opposed to addressing the larger structural issues, is crippling our universities. There may be no way out, but to put back quality assurance where it started, those little tags on goods, to perhaps be noticed but quickly forgotten.
Ahilan Kadirgamar is a political economist and Senior Lecturer, University of Jaffna.
(Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies)
Features
Thailand’s biggest new global star …
The entertainment scene, globally, is agog with excitement, and, why not!
Yes, a new global star has emerged … from Thailand, and she hit the headlines by winning America’s Got Talent.
Rattikarn Amloy, known to millions by her stage name Nene Royal, was crowned the winner of America’s Got Talent (AGT) Season 21 at the live finale at Pasadena Civic Auditorium, California, taking home the USD 1 million grand prize.
The 16-year-old rocker, from the holiday island of Phuket (I’ve been to Phuket, courtesy Tourism Authority of Thailand), has struck a power chord around the world, and is the first Thai national ever to win the hit NBC show.
She beat nine other finalists, including runner-up magician Geno Ploeger, after a blistering final performance.
Nene’s story is pure rock and roll fairy-tale. She says she picked up a guitar at age seven, fell in love at the first chord, and taught herself mostly by watching videos online. That dedication earned her a music scholarship to Kajonkiet International School Phuket.
Her audition at America’s Got Talent — a swaggering, shredding rendition of The Cranberries’ classic ‘Zombie’ — exploded online, amassing over 200 million views across AGT’s platforms, more than any act this season.
She kept wowing: ‘Hysteria’ by Muse, then ‘Black Hole Sun’ by Soundgarden which earned her Spice Girl Mel B’s Golden Buzzer, sending her straight to the live shows.
For the final, she unleashed ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Judge Howie Mandel shouted: “You should win. Give her the million, America.” Mel B praised her “mysterious, mystical stage presence”.
And for the grand finale, she lived every teen rocker’s dream — performing on stage, alongside US rock giants Linkin Park.
When host Terry Crews announced her as winner, the teenager collapsed to the stage floor in tears. “I’m very happy and you know I’m emotional right now,” she said.
And Thailand erupted. Her school held watch parties, posting: “You did it, congratulations, champion. We are so proud of you.”
Even Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul sent a personal congratulation. He had earlier hosted Nene at Government House in July, where she played guitar while he sang a Thai rock song. His office said her talent “brought pride to Thai people.”
Corporate Thailand also rallied behind her — Charoen Pokphand Foods, owned by billionaire Dhanin Chearavanont, even rented a giant billboard in Times Square, New York, to cheer her on.
With her blistering guitar solos, rock-ballad shrieks and fearless spirit, little Nene Royal has just become Thailand’s biggest new global star.
What’s more, this amazing teenager will be bringing her powerful vocals, guitar skills and signature rock-metal style to the stage, as opening act, before one of the world’s biggest rock bands, America’s Avenged Sevenfold, in Singapore, on 13 October.
Unfortunately, we are still to see a local artiste, grab the spotlight, on a global scale … like Thailand’s Nene.
Yes, they do shine, but mostly on social media, and that, too, with the aid of AI (Artificial Intellegence).
-
News7 days agoMastermind Naufer Moulavi among 15 found guilty
-
Midweek Review7 days agoThileepan’s fast unto death: An authentic narrative that many missed
-
Latest News6 days agoShowers above 100 mm are likely at some places in the Western, Sabaragamuwa, Central and North-western provinces and in Galle and Matara Districts
-
Editorial7 days agoBig Bad Bills
-
Editorial6 days agoCrimes punished and unpunished
-
Features5 days agoBeyond traditional jobs: Why Sri Lanka needs to facilitate the gig economy
-
News7 days agoNo referendum needed for passage of 22 A: SC
-
News7 days agoOne clause in Anti-Corruption (Amendment) Bill requires referendu: SC
