Beyond Performance: Social Impact, Reflexivity, and Transformative Experience

 
 
Note 1 : activist performances in Nepal
 
An example of activist performance of a political nature is provided on pages 153-156.

But performances can be also a powerful tool in the service of community education and developments 

The following text, by Manish Phuyal, reports examples of performances devoted to the promotion of education in Nepal: In the quiet villages of Nepal, where tradition runs deep and access to formal education can be limited, an unconventional yet deeply impactful form of learning is taking root with the help of performance art. This method, blending art and activism, is being used as a potent tool for education and social reform.

During a recent conversation with Prajwal Kafle, a theater artist and engineer, a compelling picture emerged of how performance, particularly street plays, is transforming public awareness in rural communities in Nepal. Kafle is part of a group of artists who collaborate
with NGOs and development organizations to deliver powerful messages through performance. Their weapon of choice: a participatory street theater format known locally as “Kachari”.

Kachari is more than a play—it is a live, improvisational dialogue with the public. At its heart is interaction. The audience is not merely watching; they are drawn into the performance, prompted to think, speak, and even act. Kafle explains, “We ask questions like, “If you were in this actor’s place, what would you do?”” The answers from the public then shape the direction of the play in real-time, making each performance unique and deeply resonant.

Preparation for such plays is rigorous. The team begins by developing a thematic framework, often centered around issues like domestic violence, political participation, environmental challenges, or public health. Through workshops and brainstorming sessions, they identify all plausible public responses and rehearse various narrative branches to maintain fluidity during live performances. Still, the spontaneity of public
engagement means even the actors don’t know exactly how each story will unfold.

The strength of this approach lies in its relatability and emotional impact. By involving the audience directly, these performances transcend the traditional performer-spectator divide. For instance, in one notable play, a man returns home drunk and begins to abuse his wife.
The audience is asked: “What would you do as a family member or neighbor?” Depending on their answers—whether to intervene, call the police, or stay silent—the narrative shifts. Sometimes, members of the audience are invited onto the stage to enact their proposed solutions, making the learning experience visceral and unforgettable.

Funded primarily by village development committees and NGOs, these initiatives face numerous challenges, the most pressing being the recruitment of committed actors and crafting stories that resonate authentically with the local populace. Yet, the impact they achieve—fostering critical thinking, empathy, and community dialogue—makes the effort profoundly worthwhile.

In a country as diverse and nuanced as Nepal, performance art is proving to be a powerful educational tool, bridging gaps in awareness and empowering communities to reflect and act. Through this dynamic form of storytelling, change doesn’t just happen on stage—it begins in the hearts and minds of the people watching.

Photo and Videos credit: Prajwal Kafle 

Note 2
 
The impact of performances on society is discussed with reference to contemporary developments and transformations of the circus in a book by Katie Lavers, Jon Burtt, and Emmanuel Bochud.: Circus for Social Change, 2025, (Routledge).
 
The chapters in this book look at Social Circus taking place in a diverse range of geographical, social, political and cultural contexts ranging from Cirqinq in remote Inuit communities in Nunavik in Far North Canada in the Arctic; to LifeLine, the funambulism project, initiated by Galway Community Circus in the Republic of Ireland, in which participants wire-walked across the River Corrib in the centre of the City of Galway; to the Mobile Mini Children’s Circus (MMCC) networking through 34 different locations in war-torn and conflict-ridden Afghanistan; to Circo Laheto working with young people from backgrounds of extreme disadvantage in Goiânia in the state of Goiás in Central Brazil; to Women’s Circus in Melbourne, Australia, initially working with women who had experienced sexual assault and now open to women and people experiencing marginalisation because of their gender; to Zip Zap Circus in Cape Town working in post-apartheid South Africa, and Circus Harmony working in the still racially divided St. Louis, Missouri. In the chapter ‘Games in Social Circus’ Emmanuel Bochud, in conversation with the other two co-authors, Katie Lavers and Jon Burtt, reflects on his experiences as a teacher running Social Circus workshops in diverse social, political, cultural, and geographical contexts in particular in relation to the use of games.
 
The book also contains extracts from conversations between the authors and some of the remarkable people working in Social Circus across the world including Eleftérios Kechagioglou from Le Plus Petit Cirque du Monde in Bagneux in the outskirts of Paris; Modou Fata Touré who founded Sencirk in Dakar, Senegal; Karine Lavoie from Cirque Hors Piste in Montreal, Quebec; Det Khoun, Director of Ponleu Selpak Performing Arts School in Battambang, Cambodia; Silja Kyytinen from Sirkus Magenta in Helsinki, Finland; and Yoshie Kris and Keisuke Kanai, working in Japan with the Slow Circus Academy in Yokohama, and with JDS/Juggling de Shinshu and the Moonlight Project in Nagano.
The writing aims to give an insight into the range and diversity of contexts in which Social Circus takes place around the world, and show the ways in which the practice of Social Circus is ultimately a responsive one that transforms and changes in response to different contexts.’
 
Note 3 to page 153
 
Particularly relevant to the advanced discussion for this chapter is an important book published in 1990:
Performance as Political Act: The Embodied Self, by Randy Martin. (New york: Bergin and Garvey )
 
 
Note 4 to pages 151 – 152
 

Text for Semiotics website re Ethics in Chapter 9 of Bouissac, P. (2025). The Semiotics of Performance. London: Bloomsbury

Ethics and Performance

Chapter 9 of Bouissac’s text reflects on performance as a tool to promote political causes and this begs a series of ethical questions.  In the Western philosophical tradition the naming of one of Aristotle’s (384-322 BCE) central texts as The Ethics and another as The Politics, provides early evidence of both the distinctions between them and of their relationship.   At the risk of over-simplification political commitments are directed towards the use of power to the achievement of goods and the prevention of harms whereas ethical commitments are directed towards why certain outcomes or states are regarded as achieving goods or avoiding harms.

Take one case with which I was once involved as an ethics auditor.  An artist had used blood products in an exhibition of their work and a visitor fainted.  The ethical issue facing the institution was whether the goods achieved by exhibiting this work outweighed the harm that resulted; the political question was whether the exhibition should be discontinued to avoid further harm or whether this could be mitigated, for example by warning signs in which case the goods for both the artists and visitors would continue to be achieved.  It turned out that the Gallery had not considered the potential ethical concerns before mounting the exhibition and this raised another series of questions.

Question for consideration – What difference is there between the visitor who faints having not known the content of the exhibition and someone who faints with full knowledge.  And does that matter ethically?

This way of looking at ethics is focussed on justification.  In other words, what kinds of arguments and evidence provide good reasons for doing this rather than that.  But this broadly Aristotelian approach to ethics is not alone.  In the Western tradition, two other contenders have dominated ethical thinking.  For utilitarians, whose greatest thinkers include Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832 CE), ethical justification involves working out which of the available alternatives results in the greatest pleasure and the least pain for those affected and for supporters of notions of rights (both human and animal) judgments about ethics centre on whether a course of action protects and extends binding and inviolable rights (think of ‘a woman’s right to choose’).  In the words of legal scholar Ronald Dworkin (1932-2013 CE), ‘rights are trumps’.   

This variety of ethical approaches presents contemporary ethical thinkers with severe problems.  At the risk of oversimplification, he first is that these approaches have both internal conflicts and conflicts with each other.  The second is that there are other approaches to ethics (both religious and secular) which dispute all of them.  What is beyond dispute is that some people, and by and large these include the politically committed, exhibit a high degree of what psychologists refer to as ‘moral identity’; in other words, doing the right thing and seeing the right thing done, matters to them more than it does to others.  Political disputes have the irreconcilable and sometimes violent nature they do, precisely because competing parties not only think that they are ethically correct but that the other side is unethical – your enemy isn’t wrong, it is evil. 

Question for consideration – What difference does it make when you consider your opponent to be evil and no just wrong?

For artists, engagement in such territory might delimit potential audiences to those who agree with you or might.  Those outside this circle may both dispute the ethics that inform the claims the art is making but might also argue that performance spaces are inappropriate for making such claims at all.  Such audience members might see art as entertainment or perhaps as education but certainly not (as they see it) indoctrination and artists who convey a political message as misusing their power by ‘preaching’ to their audience.  There was a moment in the 1980s during a U2 concert where Bono asks his audience, ‘am I bugging you?’ when talking about the evils of apartheid South Africa; he clearly was.

Within circus, the classical and contemporary traditions fall out on this territory, amongst others.  For many within the classical tradition, circus is about entertainment through the display of achievement, whether physical, or comedic, whether by humans or by animals; by contrast for many in the contemporary circus world, circus is a form of expression in which the artist reveals what is most important to them, and if that happens to be a political or ethical commitment, so be it. 

As in many cases of ethical dispute, the contending parties disagree about what is at issue between them.  For those taking a radical ethical / political position all art and entertainment is political; the presentation of animals in a ring, doing what their human masters want them to do, is seen and both reproducing and justifying the dominance of people over animals, whilst animal trainers may see the presentation of liberty horses as an artistic achievement entertainment, their opponents see it as promoting the oppression of animals regardless of how well they are treated by the human companions outside the ring.  

Question for consideration – Fina an example of an artwork or performance that you think is not at all political and cannot be judged ethically?

In Chapter 9 we are introduced to a number of political performances including Abramovich’s self-mutilation (p151) which Bouissac contends was aimed to ‘cause the audience to break the conventional separation between the spectators and the performer’.  Different ethical traditions would evaluate this performance in very different ways.  A rights theorist might argue that the artist exercised their right to display, and their ownership of their own body in a way that challenged the right of any authority to prevent its display and damage.  A utilitarian’s judgment would be whether the direct self-harm experienced by the artist outweighed whatever benefits were to be gained by challenging the separation of performer and artist (a challenge which could be made without bodily damage, as evidenced in Dionysus in ’69, explored on the same page).  Not only is it unlikely that the utilitarian would believe that the performer had done the right thing but they would also question a legal regime which allows for performances of that type.  An Aristotelian may well argue that an artist engaging in such performance had an insufficient grasp of their own good such that their very freedom should be put in question; someone damaging themselves to such a degree should be looked after in an institution devoted to care of the mentally ill; likewise, with those who followed her lead at the Royal Academy of Arts in 2023.

Final Questions – Should the 2023 exhibition have been allowed go ahead.  Where might it not have been?

Ron Beadle is Professor Emeritus of Organisational and Business Ethics at Northumbria University