The fifth century BC was the only period of theatre history when plays were created for a single performance. The sense of immediacy that this suggests in terms of the theatrical potential of the plays is frequently overlooked, as is the corresponding freedom from commercial pressures enjoyed by the playwrights. To think of the theatre of Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides and Aristophanes as entirely free from the ‘taint’ of other than sublime artistic and religious motives, however, is to underestimate both the practicality of the Athenians in organisational matters and the constant dependance of the theatre as an institution on its patrons.

The craze for amateur theatricals among the higher orders in late Georgian England is notorious. It was a passion that was given vent not only in Britain itself, but throughout the Empire, where military officers and civilian gentlefolk trod the boards in centres as far apart as Montreal and Cape Town, Jamaica and Calcutta. One colony that conspicuously lacked such genteel pleasures was convict settlement in New South Wales. The rigours of the posting, the minute numbers constituting the social elite, their geographic dispersal, and the bitter factionalism of their community effectively killed off any possibility of such theatre for the first twenty-five years or so of the outpost's existence. For the next fifteen years the positive influence of a growing population was negated by the continuance of the factionalism, by the deep suspicions of a succession of governors, and by the growing influence of the clergy, most of whom were bitterly hostile to theatre.

The controversial theory of intercultural performance covers a wide range of theatrical practices, which intend to adapt subject matter and situations from one culture to another. This intention mainly involves a transportation and translation of elements and perspectives across cultures. The translator, the audience or reader, and the director fill in the gaps that are formed during this transportation and translation with their own interpretations, in accordance with the culture they inhabit. However, intercultural performance requires conscious attempts to merge two different cultures. Such attempts should not be done solely for the ‘target’ culture's audience but should also regard the perceptions of the ‘source’ culture as much as possible. In light of this, Turkish State Theatre's director Ferdi Merter's production of A Streetcar Named Desire is analysed in order to locate the distinct changes the Turkish interpretation of the play has incorporated.

Daniel Mesguich does not meet with everyone's approval. This child prodigy, this prodigal son, has made a name for himself since leaving the Conservatoire by his provocative mises en scène. Since creating the Théâtre du Miroir in 1974 at the age of twenty-two he has passionately divided both critics and connoisseurs. Some dismiss him outright without a second thought; others proclaim him a superstar, a genius. And there are those who hover in the middle, unsure how long they can entertain this phenomenon. More recently, of course, his opera direction (Wagner's Ring in 1988) has raised temperatures once more. No one can arouse a rather dominant theatre scene or incite new Hernani riots as Mesguich can.

Klaus Mann, the eldest son of Thomas Mann, was among the first emigrants to leave Germany after the Nazi takeover in 1933. From the vantage point of his early exile in Amsterdam, he looked back disapprovingly at German artists and intellectuals who appeared to thrive under Hitler's regime. Especially galling to him was the success of actor/director Gustaf Gründgens (1899–1963), his former brother-in-law:

I visualize my ex-brother-in-law as the traitor par excellence, the macabre embodiment of corruption and cynicism. So intense was the facination of his shameful glory that I decided to portray Mephisto-Gründgens in a satirical novel. I thought it pertinent, indeed, necessary to expose and analyse the abject type of the treacherous intellectual who prostitutes his talent for the sake of some tawdry fame and transitory wealth.

Performance analysis and performance theory have to deal in one way or another with the relationships between the written dramatic text and the stage performance of that text. The point of departure for most discussions of this issue is that the drama text through its staging is ‘translated’ or ‘transformed’ into a performance text but since the ontological status of the written and performed texts are fundamentally different it is virtually impossible to set up a clearly delineated hermeneutic procedure through which the new, ‘translated’ work of art, the performance text, can be analysed on the basis of the dramatic source text alone. It is quite evident, moreover, that the staging of a certain text is both a completely independent work of art, presented by live actors for an audience in the total context created especially for that performance and an ‘interpretation’ of another independent work of art, the dramatic text. The performance itself thus creates a special form of intertextuality where the words assigned to the characters on the printed page of the written text are spoken by the actors on the stage. The behaviour of a certain character on the stage is a specific realization of a potential range of meanings which that character contains in the source-text on the printed page.

Since the two texts are so fundamentally different any attempt to judge the adequacy of the ‘new’ work of art, the performance text, mainly in relation to the dramatic text is doomed to run into insurmountable hermeneutic difficulties.

New Year purification ceremonies are perhaps spread more widely over African fiction than African drama, ranging from the disposal of the old year's yams at the Feast of the New Yam in Achebe's Things Fall Apart to the Somalian Rendezvous of the Brooms which, in Nurridin Farah's novel Sweet and Sour Milk, the military dictatorship perverts into a political circus. More specifically, the annual rite of the carrier, who bears away the sins and misfortunes of the past year in the form of a miniature wooden boat, a bundle of twigs or a wicker effigy, is handled figuratively in the first novels of the Ghanaians Kofi Awoonor and Ayi Kwei Armah. This particular ritual practice does make some vestigial dramatic appearances, however – for example, in the symbolic dismemberment of Tufa in the cleansing floods at the end of J. P. Clark's play The Masquerade – and it receives what is probably its most complex and experimental treatment in two plays by Wole Soyinka, The Strong Breed and his adaptation of Euripides' The Bacchae.

The Hindu festival of Taipucam celebrated in honour of the male god Murugan is one of the public festivals that Hindus in Singapore celebrate with a great deal of aplomb and ceremony. It takes on the hue of a carnival and is a major tourist attraction. At the centre of the festival is the male kavadi bearer. Beside him walks the docile woman carrying her pot of milk. In the Taipucam festival procession, there is clearly apparent an empowered male versus a subsidiary female space, which appears determinate and confined, marking a tentative emergence of a subversive ‘feminist’ space that attempts to grasp at a measure of empowerment for women.

This article examines a significant change in the hierarchies of value in cultural production in urban Cape Town, where there has been a bifurcation of theatre in the urban centre and on the township periphery. Theatre at these two sites differs in aesthetic character, themes and infrastructural resources, which derive from a history of legislated racial separatism that is still evident today socially, culturally, educationally and in the development of the city itself. Here, I identify changes that have come about in recent years not so much because of the government's policy of redress, but because leading artists are using their pre-eminence and institutions to catalyse educational experiences, performance platforms and a positive marketing environment for theatre and artists from the townships. The Baxter Theatre and its Zabalaza Festival serve as a case study.

Proceeding from the observation that Gotthold Ephraim Lessing's famous Hamburgische Dramaturgie (Hamburg Dramaturgy) soon abandons the analysis of actual performances in favour of a discussion of character, the article explores Lessing's problematic relationship with the performing body, situating it in the context of an increasingly textual culture. It shows the implications of this move in terms of gender prescriptions before discussing Lessing's ‘disgust’ with a particular performance of his Emilia Galotti. Reading this example with Lessing's treatise Laokoon and drawing on Julia Kristeva's theory of abjection, it argues that Lessing's struggle with the performers reveals a profound crisis in subject formation in the sense that the disturbing corporality of the performing body is always threatening sympathetic identification. The article concludes that the Dramaturgie itself constitutes an ‘abjection’ of performance. A postscript opens up the view onto the contemporary relevance and refiguration of Lessing's Laokoon in the Laokoon Festival in Hamburg.

This re-examination of the plays of 1960s farceur Joe Orton reveals that his plays can survive the passage of time as well as cultural displacement. Orton's skill lies in using the medium of the theatre to create a liminal situation, whereby all the signs and subtexts can crystallize into accessible images, which are explored here from a semiotic perspective. Orton's scrupulous understanding of genre and plot construction enables him to pay lip-service to a specific genre, as he simultaneously mocks modern realistic theatre conventions; the one-room settings are examined for their metonymic function, and the props and costume are considered from the semiotic perspective of vectorization. This fresh approach to Joe Orton elucidates how the plays have their own intrinsic dramatic merit, independent of their original 1960s context: Orton plays games with his audiences, and game-playing is a universal pastime.

In the autumn of 1997 the World Bank issued ‘China 2020’, a seven-volume report on the key issues and challenges that ‘China must face over the next two decades’. The opening passage reads:

China is in the throes of two transitions: from a command economy to a market-based one and from a rural, agricultural society to an urban, industrial one. So far, both transitions have been spectacultarly successful. China is the fastest growing economy in the world, with per capita incomes more than quadrupling sine 1978, achieving in two generations what took other countries centuries.

Though India declared itself a sovereign nation only in 1947, after two hundred years of British rule, its people had unleashed the processes of ‘Indianization’ well before independence. While addressing the transition from colonial subjecthood to independent citizenship is intricately linked to efforts of decolonization, the role of English-medium education in the creation of a new emergent class of independent Indian citizens often gets overlooked. This essay analyses the immediate impact of independence (1947–50), and locates the educational spaces where Indians (predominantly elite Bengalis) were struggling to unlink citizenship from nationalism and exploring inter-community relationships such as those between the Bengali elite and the micro-minority Jews, Parsis, Armenians and Anglo-Indians. I show how theatre activities by the students of St Xavier's Collegiate School and College, their new roles as potential public intellectuals and citizens of post-independent India and their theatre constituted an important intervention in the new democratic processes. I examine the duality of a Bengali elite who acquired an English-medium education and performed English-style Shakespeare while trying to construct a political dramaturgy as an ensemble or collective.

This collaborative article looks at the establishment in 2006 of an IFTR/FIRT working group in Arabic theatre, and the significance of this in terms of breaking the twentieth-century, hegemonic hold of European and North American subjects in theatre research. We trace the development of the working group from preliminary conferences and gatherings outside IFTR to its set-up and organization within the Federation. Surveying our methodologies, key issues, research areas and future directions, we argue the significance of the group's work in creating a research forum for Arab theatre scholarship.