We are really excited to bring this edition of IPTN Journal to you!
From the Editors
From the Editors
From the Editors
Welcome to the 2025 edition of the IPTN Journal. We are publishing a little later than usual, but as you will see, there is a very good reason for this. This year we have a record breaking 28 contributions from 52 writers, representing 30 different countries (although this is an approximate figure given that some of our authors have moved around a bit-often through no choice of their own). Each of the four years we have been working together as co-editors, the quantity and quality of material we have received has increased, and we are delighted to witness this growing energy for writing about Playback Theatre.
Early on in our preparation for this edition, we agreed that we wanted to try to curate a Journal that would reflect the global nature of our community as it celebrates its 50th Birthday. So, in addition to our usual call out for articles, we proactively approached colleagues in different countries to invite brief updates about what is happening in their part of the playback world. We were overwhelmed by the positive responses we received but the enthusiasm from playbackers from one country in particular was exceptional. As a result, in addition to the usual set of contents, this 2025 IPTN Journal has two additional sections – a Ukrainian Feature, and a collection of 50th Birthday Postcards, each containing seven titles.
In bringing all these articles and stories together, we’ve observed certain recurring themes that perhaps tell us something about what’s alive for our playback community as we celebrate 50 years of practice. Themes of occupation, armed conflict and displacement can be found in each of the three main sections of this Journal. You can read about the ways that people have found to continue to practice in such adverse conditions and learn how playback can offer space for connection and consolation and building (or rebuilding) cultural identity, and a sense of home, despite such challenges.
Another noticeable theme uniting some of the writing in this edition is education, with articles looking at issues relating to using playback with students in universities, and others offering overviews and insights from successful playback training schools in three different countries.
Social activism also appears as a theme. It’s mentioned in several of the Birthday Postcards, and our Thought Pieces section includes two thought provoking articles on this important topic, from different perspectives.
We found ourselves reminiscing about Interplay (the previous name for the IPTN Journal1). The brief, newsy, postcard updates from old and new companies in different parts of the world reminded us of the style and content of Interplay. There was also another prompt – in this edition of the IPTN Journal, we’ve included some material in Chinese and Ukrainian. Some of you will remember that non-English writing was commonplace in Interplay.
Given that we now publish online, the availability of translation software, the extent to which English tends to be common in the playback community, and in many international journals, it’s so far been our editorial policy to publish in English. But in recent discussions with the IPTN Board, we’ve been encouraged to open this topic again for debate. Contemplating translating the Journal is hurting our heads a little bit, not least because of the extra work that would be required. And what language? Or languages should we choose? We’d be interested to know what you, as Journal readers, IPTN members and playbackers from around the world think about this issue.
We’d also be delighted to hear from you about any other aspect of the Journal.
Happy Birthday to all of us!
Radhika Jain and Steve Nash
IPTN Journal Co-Editors
editors@playbacktheatrenetwork.org
1(copies of Interplay going back to 1992 can be accessed by IPTN members – please consider joining)
Articles
Looking for a Future: Encounters in Palestine and Israel
By Jo Salas
Author’s note
I wrote Looking for a Future after my first visit to Palestine and Israel, in 2012, wanting to document and comprehend this life-changing experience. The issues and tensions I describe have escalated tragically since that time, leading to October 7 and the consequent carnage. I am grateful that the IPTN Journal editors considered my article relevant for our current times. I have added a few endnotes as updates. Except for public figures and place names, all names are fictional.
In Palestine
Arriving at Ben Gurion Airport I’m mindful of what Israeli and Palestinian colleagues have warned me: don’t say that you’re going to the West Bank. It’s perfectly legal to do so, they assure me – but better not to mention it. So I don’t, saying instead that I’m visiting friends in Tel Aviv. Which I will do, eight days from now.
As promised, there’s a driver from the Freedom Theatre to meet me: Abdel, a small, friendly, middle-aged Palestinian man. We chat sporadically. He tells me he’s permitted to drive back and forth because of the Israeli plates on his car. He teaches me how to say hello and thank you in Arabic. The low-lying countryside near the airport gives way to a biblical landscape, steep rock-strewn hillsides dotted with olive trees. We slow down at the border, not far away, but we are waved through the checkpoint. It is very hot. I hesitate to shed my jacket, out of consideration for Abdel, but after a while I ask if I may. He chuckles – he’s used to Tel Aviv and does not mind bare arms or legs. I keep the jacket on my lap to put on again quickly if we stop.
I am overheated and travel-weary by the time we arrive at the Freedom Theatre in the northern West Bank town of Jenin. The theatre, a small complex of buildings in the heart of the Jenin refugee camp, is engaged in a project using the interactive method of Playback Theatre to give voice to stories of the occupation1. In September they will travel throughout the West Bank, stopping in villages to hear and enact people’s stories. In each place they, along with international supporters, will help with tree-planting and bricklaying. The project is called the Freedom Bus, inspired by the Freedom Riders of the American civil rights movement2.
Playback Theatre originated in the US, and as one of its founders and teachers I am here to spend a week training the Palestinian team and traveling with them as they perform in other West Bank towns. Then I’ll go to Israel, inside the green line, to work with members of the Israeli companies. There are, amazingly, over forty Playback Theatre ensembles in Israel. And now this new group in Palestine.
Friends at home were intrigued that I would visit Palestine as well as Israel. Some were critical. “What’s Palestine?” said a new acquaintance pointedly, meaning, there’s no such place.
But there is. And I’m here. In the theatre’s guesthouse I try to sleep through the sounds of people chatting below my window until late into the night, dogs and nocturnal roosters, and then the 4:30am call to prayer in ear-splitting stereo from mosques on each side of the theatre.
In the morning, we walk to the workshop space through bright sunlit streets, sidestepping potholes and litter, exchanging greetings with people passing by. The studio is a cool, large, recently renovated space with stage lights, exercise mats, and a jumble of stilts in one corner. One actor is not there because the police have detained him. He is expected to appear in the afternoon, but we don’t see him until the next morning: he spent the day in jail and does not want to talk about it. Another actor is absent because his new immigrant wife is being held at the Jordanian border, and he has to wrestle with the authorities. Others arrive late, delayed at checkpoints between Jenin and their homes in nearby towns.
“This is the way it is here,” says Michael, the organizer, a visionary man in his thirties who grew up in Australia and has practiced Playback Theatre there and in the US. He arrived in Jenin five months ago and will stay indefinitely. Michael holds Israeli citizenship3, though born after his father left the country in despair at Israel’s violence and his own forebears’ full participation in that violence.
Because of the obstacles of West Bank life, the playback team has been slow to master basic skills. But they are talented actors. And the shows they’ve done – prematurely, in my view – have been enthusiastically received. After decades of occupation, Michael says, everyone is tired of each other’s wrenching stories. Playback Theatre gives them a new way to listen.
For three days everyone works hard, practicing the technique, strengthening themselves as a team, and telling their own stories – an essential part of training especially when every performer shares the same devastating experiences as the audience.
Yousef, one of the young actors, tells a story from during the second intifada. He was ten years old. He was asleep when his father left in the dark as usual to work in the bakery. He heard shooting in the street but it was not uncommon and he didn’t worry about it. Then his mother went out and saw a man lying dead. She thought at first it was their neighbor. But it was her husband. She dragged his body home. Later, the army followed the trail of blood to their house, thinking they would find a fighter. The soldiers came inside and pointed to the body. “Wake him up!” they shouted. Yousef’s mother screamed at them: “He’s dead! You killed him!” Yousef looked at the body of his father. Part of him felt nothing. Part of him cried: “This is my father!”
The actors listen intently. They withdraw to the sides of the stage, then, without discussion, begin to enact the story, bringing to life the images and emotions that they have heard. The musician plays his oud, following the currents of the story.
The workshop comes to an end, followed immediately by a public performance in the Freedom Theatre’s black box theatre. People tell stories of resistance and determination. A boy stands up spontaneously to sing a song he has composed.
And then we go on the road.
From Jenin to Ramallah
I’m driving with my friend and former student Khaled, a Palestinian citizen of Israel who has traveled from his home in Haifa to join us4. The dashboard of his car is covered with an embroidered cloth on which perches a small box with Easter pastries baked by his mother: Khaled and his family are part of Israel’s Arab Christian minority. Also with us is Ibrahim, who lives in Jenin and is the brother of the Freedom Theatre’s artistic director. He’s come to support the Freedom Bus team and also to see family members in Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem, where he was born. Helena, a photographer from Finland, is squashed into the back seat with Ibrahim, along with some of our bags.
The outskirts of Jenin are very green and beautiful, with olive trees and eucalyptus. Hills on one side of the road, flat cultivated fields on the other. A camel saddled with a carpet ambles along the main road amid anarchic traffic. I comment on the greenness and Khaled thanks me for noticing – it’s one of the Zionist myths, he says, that the land was arid and neglected before the Israelis came. “We have always been a farming people,” he says.
Some of the hills are topped by Arab villages with big black rain barrels on every roof; others by Jewish settlements, their orderly rows of red-roofed houses belying their illegal status under international law, which says that an occupying force may not colonize occupied territories.
Khaled is talking as he drives, eloquent, poetic, measured but heartfelt. He talks about how the Palestinian identity has been fragmented by the events since 1948. He feels that the contribution of Juliano Mer Khamis, the legendary founder and director of the Freedom Theatre who was murdered a year ago right outside its main building, was to help to rebuild identity, with people standing beside each other and feeling commonality.
Juliano’s murder remains unsolved. I hear different theories: some speculate about conservative elements in Jenin who did not like the freedom of the Freedom Theatre. Others say it was the Israelis who wanted him dead. There are rumors about romantic entanglements. Whatever the truth, his death is an unhealed wound for the people of the theatre. He is beloved and missed.
Khaled talks about his family’s village of Ikrit, where in 1948 everyone became internal refugees – expelled from their home but permitted to remain inside (everyone here says “inside” or “48” to refer to Israel). His family fled to another village where ten of them had to live in one small room. They and others were dependent on the goodwill of the people who already lived there, sharing their already sparse resources of food, water, and housing. Some welcomed them, some did not. Israel’s supreme court long ago granted the Ikrit villagers the right of return – almost unheard-of in Israel – but the government has refused to honor this decision.
As we talk, Khaled’s elderly car crawls up the long hills at not much more than walking pace. Other drivers honk and pass us in exasperation. We are trying to get to Ramallah by 11am. Khaled, philosophical, thinks we’ll make it.
We pass by more olive groves. Ibrahim in the back seat says that 10,000 trees are cut down each year in the West Bank by settlers and soldiers. This particular brutality, like the demolishing of houses, seems entirely sadistic to me. Khaled says that when the army demolishes a house, the family is billed for the demolition—many thousands of shekels. They also have to pay for the rubble to be carted away or do it themselves.
I can hardly believe some of the stories that I hear during this week, though I witness the evidence with my own eyes. It occurs to me later that this perhaps is one of the reasons that the Palestinian suffering does not arouse more international outrage, particularly in the US. It strains our sense of reality. Isn’t Israel a civilized country, a democracy – our friend in the Middle East?
I ask Khaled and Ibrahim what they see in the future and what they would like to see.
“Palestine has no future,” says Ibrahim vehemently. He is 42 but looks much younger. “I see no future for myself. I can see the present, and the past. But there is no future.”
He has lived all his life in refugee camps. He tells me that he has not seen the sea for eleven years, though it is so close. I try, and fail, to imagine what it might be like to live with no sense of a future.
Khaled says: “I don’t need a country. I don’t need a flag. I want to live without fear. If the Israelis want to control, let them. If they recognize my narrative, my dignity, that is enough.”
He does not see the viability of two states, with the presence of 500,000 settlers already in the West Bank5. He predicts that if a clash will come it will be with the Palestinians inside Israel. They are twenty percent of Israel’s population and they are like a volcano. Palestinian citizens of Israel have rights, but there is discrimination. Their different-colored ID cards announce their status. Dozens of laws, constantly changing, restrict their standing. They tell me about a recent law that says a West Bank Palestinian and a Palestinian citizen of Israel who marry may not live together in Israel. The Israel-born partner is forbidden to live in certain parts of the West Bank. The overt purpose of this law, affecting 25,000 families, is to discourage the birth of more Arabs.
Ibrahim says, “We don’t have problem with the Jewish religion. We have problem with the occupation.”
As we drive through another village Khaled points out a garage called “Haifa Garage.” “That means that it’s run by refugees from Haifa,” he says. “They remember their home with the name.” This village, like the others, has mostly rather stark, utilitarian cement houses, but in a few favored spots there are imposing houses with arches and pillars. I also see many buildings that appear to have been abandoned before they were completed.
We drive by another small village surrounded by fields and olive groves. Khaled and Ibrahim explain that this is a 3000-year-old village, populated by Palestinian Jews—a living embodiment of an ancient and shared history. They are Jewish by heritage and religion, but culturally they are Arabs.
Then a new-looking Jewish settlement, surrounded by Arab land on which the settlers have cut down all the trees.
A donkey, escorted by Arab women, pulls a cart laden with garlic.
We drive through Birzeit, which means well of olive oil. In the town square there is a photo of Saddam Hussein. Ibrahim says, “I like this man.” Khaled, sensing my surprise, reminds me that before Saddam turned into a murderous monster he achieved good things for Iraq, including women’s rights. In the distance are the large, modern buildings of Birzeit University. Most of the students are Arab, but there are also Jews, Christians, and internationals.
We’re finally arriving in Ramallah, cars and people jostling each other on the busy streets. It is high up and you can see nearby Jerusalem from some places. “We can see Jerusalem but they can’t see us,” says a woman I meet later, smiling ruefully. We pass Mahmoud Abbas’s residence, which is also the seat of the Palestinian Authority. Khaled and Ibrahim are sarcastic about Abbas. They say that opinion is divided about him: some say he is a collaborator with the Israelis. Others respect his leadership.
Some of the women on the street are in tight jeans and stiletto heels, along with fashionable-looking headscarves. A few have uncovered heads. They look very different from the women in Jenin in their elegant but stiflingly hot head-to-toe garments.
In Ramallah
The rest of the Freedom Theatre crew–the performing team, the video team, and about twelve boys, ages 11 to 14, from Jenin and a neighboring village—have traveled by service, pronounced as if French, a kind of taxi-van that’s the only public transport around the West Bank. We meet up with them at the headquarters of a large foundation in Ramallah that has organized a photography project for the Jenin boys and for a similar group in Gaza, exploring and recording the problems of water in their community. The foundation has arranged a video hook-up with the Gaza children. We can see them on a large screen – about ten boys and girls, a little younger than the Jenin boys. These children cannot meet in person, although they live in the same country, no more than a hundred miles from each other.
The Gaza children present their findings: no municipal water system, very little water available by any means, most of it contaminated. They can use seawater but it is inadequately desalinated. People get sick. They say Gaza is becoming like a dump because there is no system to deal with garbage. The kids are confident and well-informed, passionate but good-humored. “We can’t clean ourselves!” says one boy.
The Jenin children watch, absorbed, and ask questions. One of the boys presents what they have prepared: photos of wells that are useless because they are not permitted to drill deep enough. Wells that reach the aquifer get demolished by the Israelis, who use satellite technology to find them. They show photos of the luxuriantly green fields belonging to the settlement the other side of a razor wire fence, thanks to a spring that used to be on village land: the name of the village means spring. In the summer they run out of water altogether and have to buy water from a truck which shows up every few days. Even this water is not guaranteed to be pure.
The kids ask each other about swimming pools – no one has access, of course, to a place to swim that’s nearby and clean. One of the adults asks what it is like to see the Israelis with their plentiful water. “We feel we are not free.” “We feel it is injustice.” “We feel abused.”
After a lunch break the Freedom Bus team performs Playback Theatre for the children. I’m struggling, not successfully, to contain my feelings as I sit in the audience with someone murmuring translation in my ear. I am both shattered and inspired to witness the spiritedness of these young children in the face of monolithic cruelty. The children listen to each other’s stories, watch each other on the screens, laugh and clap together. In spite of the technological awkwardness the process works. A little girl in Gaza, radiant in her red sweater and neat brown ponytail, tells a story about getting 93 per cent on her science test. “When I grow up I’m going to solve my country’s water problems.” A boy from the village near Jenin tells a story about seeing a fire in a field and trying to get help. It took an hour for the truck to arrive and by then everything that grew was destroyed.
The Freedom Theatre’s videographer captures the enactments so that the kids in Gaza can see – at some cost to the audience in the room, since he has to be on stage with the actors, sometimes blocking our view. But it is worth it.
The last story is told by Khaled, my friend from Haifa. It turns out that Juliano Mer Khamis was a friend of his family. Khaled speaks about knowing Juliano when he, Khaled, was a child, but never visiting the theatre until now. His story is about Juliano’s vision of the arts as a way of creating freedom.
And here we are with children using theatre to transcend the barriers between them.
After the performance I go to meet a woman who is a distinguished Palestinian actress and theatre director. She is about to bring her production of Shakespeare’s Richard the Second to the Globe Theatre in London. She is waiting for me at the door of her theatre. We’re meeting for the first time but she feels like an old friend. We have dinner, along with her husband, also an actor and the manager of the theatre, and two friends from Jenin. Our hosts live in East Jerusalem, which used to be a 20-minute drive from Ramallah on a four-lane highway. After several fatal attacks on Israelis the road was closed to Palestinians for eight years. Now reopened by court order, it is accessible to Palestinians only through a checkpoint which takes half an hour or longer to get through, followed by another lengthy delay negotiating the resulting traffic jam.
My new friend and her husband talk with controlled exasperation—even humor—about this reality of their daily lives; the way they, like all Palestinians, are treated by Israel as potential terrorists. “Oh yes,” she says, smiling at my incredulity. “They’ll strip-search us at the airport when we go to London. Always.”
On the hilltop
I am sitting under an olive tree in an open space on top of a hill, partly field, partly rocky outcrops with deep holes that might be wells or caves, I’m not sure. It is sunny but there is a cool breeze and the air is delicious. Around me are red and yellow wildflowers, daisies, anise. Just down from this beautiful wild spot are the houses and terraces of a Palestinian village. It is idyllic. But soon this land will be confiscated from its historical owners to become an Israeli national park, barred to any Palestinian. The other nearby hills are topped with settlements, one so close to the village that they could talk to each other without raising their voices–if they wanted to, and if they spoke each other’s languages. And if they could bear to talk through the barrier of razor wire that fortifies the settlement.
Down in the valley the separation wall is under construction. When it reaches up here it will surround this village, Al Walajah, all but cutting it off from the world. And on this rocky hilltop, a little distance from the rest of the village, an Palestinian family’s house will have a special curl of the wall all to itself, four meters high, ten meters from the house, making it a prison within a prison.
The Freedom Bus team is about to do a performance right here for local people and a large group of internationals led by Luisa Morgantini, the former vice president of the European Parliament. A band, famous in the Arab world, will play before and after the performance.
(Photo credit: Ben Rivers/Freedom Theatre).
Wandering around as the team prepares the stage area, I see two Palestinian women who are gathering anise. We walk towards each other. One of them speaks some English and we talk, out there in the soft breeze. She says that her daughter lives in the house that is about to be surrounded by the wall. I’ve already met her son-in-law: the sound system for the performance is plugged into his house with a long cable. The woman tells me that one of her sons was recently released from prison after five years. Another son is currently in prison. She says they do not know why. There have been no charges.6
People start gathering – children, young people, men and women. They find places to sit on the rocky ground. Except for the small olive trees there is no shade.
Mariam, the local community organizer who is translating, announces that the army has arrived and set up a checkpoint down the road. They are turning people away and taking the IDs of anyone who objects. There is a stir of alarm. Everyone knows what the army is capable of, and this village has received aggressive attention at their weekly protests at the wall. “Stay calm,” she says. “We’re not doing anything illegal.”
The band sings three beautiful songs, accompanied on the oud. The audience claps in rhythm and sings along. The playback show that follows is not easy, with kids wandering onto the stage area, the audience straining to hear, too many camera-wielding westerners stepping in front of audience members, even walking right up to the actors as they try to perform a story.
But the stories flow. A young boy is the first person to speak up in response to the conductor’s question “How does it feel to be here today?” “Belonging,” says the boy. It turns out that he lives in the house that will become a prison. Later, his father raises his hand. “Today I feel we are not occupied,” he says. Everyone cheers.
There is a story about a 3,000 year old olive tree, a symbol and proof of the ancient Palestinian culture. A middle-aged man tells a story about the suffering of the child next door who came home after school to find his house demolished. And then the woman I had met picking anise came to tell her story about the army raid on her house five years ago, when they took her son. They destroyed many things in the house, she said, and they used sound bombs, to terrorize the family. She could do nothing but hold the children and try to protect their ears. She felt completely alone. “Now I don’t feel alone,” she says, gesturing to all of us.
By now the soldiers are 50 yards away at the entrance to the field, five trucks parked so as to be visible to us all: a deliberately threatening presence. Mariam borrows the microphone again. “They won’t do anything as long as you’re here,” she says to the internationals. “Please stay until we can all leave together.”
There is more music after the playback show – joyful, releasing music after the somber stories.
And then I have to go, very abruptly. The taxi that is to take me to Tel Aviv for the next phase of my teaching trip has arrived early and my hosts are too tense with anxiety about the soldiers to let me linger. Every cell in my body is saying “Stay! Don’t leave!” But I must not. We say a hurried goodbye under the suspicious eyes of the soldiers, and in seconds I am speeding down the hill toward Jerusalem, only ten minutes away but another planet.
“Inside”
We are driving on a new, immaculate road that is closed to Palestinians. The taxi’s Israeli license plate is prominently displayed on the dashboard. We slow down at the checkpoint but do not have to stop. In another few minutes we are in Jerusalem itself, with all the accouterments of a modern, prosperous city – wide, well-kept roads, shopping malls, billboards, substantial buildings. Western-looking people walk by, women in tank tops and short skirts, a couple kissing on a corner. It is a million miles from the pot-holed roads, ancient cars, and ramshackle buildings of the West Bank. A million miles, and ten minutes. This comfortable world is closed to almost all of the people I have just left.
We descend from Jerusalem into open country, past Ben Gurion Airport and on to Tel Aviv. The driver leaves me outside my host Shoshanah’s house and she welcomes me warmly. It has taken not much more than an hour to get here. I am completely unable to absorb or accept this transition, though I am happy to see her, to meet her husband David, and to see the little rooftop guest apartment where I will spend the next week and a half. They – David especially – ask about Jenin and the Freedom Theatre project over dinner. I answer briefly because I feel distraught and I am afraid I will break down. I don’t know much about their politics. It turns out that they are both very progressive – David, Israeli-born, is utterly cynical about the Israeli government and wishes that the US would withdraw its support. Everything would collapse, he says, and that would lead to immediate change. Shoshanah, who came to Israel as a refugee at six years old, stops short of some of his opinions.
I plead fatigue and go upstairs to be alone and rest.
The next day I begin a Playback Theatre workshop for experienced Israeli practitioners. Several express immediate interest in my visit to Jenin. (They ask about “Jenin” rather than the West Bank: Jenin is notorious in Israel for its militant resistance, particularly during the second intifada only a few years ago, and they believe it to be dangerous.) I am surprised and pleased by their sincere interest, but I am not ready to talk to them. I don’t know what to say. I am so raw, so heartbroken at the tragedy and misery that I have just witnessed. As their guest and teacher, I don’t know how to share this with people who are, or are allied with, the agents of this injustice.
I decide to offer a talk about the West Bank at lunchtime on the third day, for anyone who’s interested. About ten people show up. The door to the small room keeps opening and more people squeeze in—in the end, about 20 of the 28 participants join the circle. My intention is simply to tell what I saw, without political interpretation. I tell them about the Freedom Theatre and the Freedom Bus project. I tell them about the performances in Ramallah and Al Walajah. I tell them how touched I was by the children in Gaza.
My heart is thumping as I talk. I am anxious about their response, and grateful for the supportive presence of the two women on each side of me. Two others, who are settlers and very conservative in their beliefs and lifestyle, listen with frowns and make notes. At the end there are questions. A young woman asks gently, “What it is like to be with us, after this experience?” She really wants to know. I say that the transition was indeed difficult but I am glad to be with them all. It’s true. I say that I, as an outsider, am here to listen and learn.
Someone asks if the Palestinians expressed hostility to Israelis. I say that they were antagonistic to the occupation, not necessarily to Israelis. In fact, though I do not say this, the angry comments I heard were all in reference to aggressive and humiliating behavior by Israeli soldiers. I refrain from saying this because they have all been Israeli soldiers. Some of them have children currently in the army—the first story of the workshop was about a daughter’s military service beginning the next day. The pervasive presence of the army–on the streets, in everyone’s personal lives, even as an organizational client for Playback Theatre performances–is something I’m finding astonishing and hard to take in, so different is it from anything I’ve experienced at home or in other countries.
I tell them that the Palestinians want the occupation to end. They want their human rights.
We have a few more minutes before the afternoon session. I tell them, as a coda, that I myself have roots here – that my grandfather, a rabbi, was born in Jerusalem, his forebears having come to Palestine from Lithuania in the late 1700s, though I’m not Jewish because my mother’s family is not. The tension in the room defuses instantly- there is surprise, relief, pleasure. They are full of questions, and they want me to be much more curious than I am about my distant relatives who presumably still live here. “You could be our cousin!” says someone. Sandy, an American-born settler who is constantly trying to get me to “see the other side,” corners me and says she’ll get her friend the genealogist on the job.
Sandy walks out of the room beside me. “I would like to take you to Sderot,” she says. “They have rockets fired at them all the time, perhaps by the parents of those adorable children you saw.” She knows I’m not coming to Sderot, near Gaza, though I have compassion for people enduring the trauma of living under rocket fire. As my host Shoshanah says, kids in bomb shelters are kids in bomb shelters. I don’t condone Hamas’s violence. But how can Sandy not feel the desperate poignancy of innocent children who grow up imprisoned, unable to defend themselves against weapons far more deadly than the Hamas rockets?
Sandy has pressed me repeatedly to visit her settlement and I have demurred. She is my student, and I like her as a person. I enjoy the way she sashays in her long skirts like Mae West. I don’t want to say outright that I am unwilling on principle to visit an illegal settlement. But by now she must realize that my excuse of being too busy, while true, is not the only reason.
After several days it is still jarring to find myself here in this free, Western, privileged world. Shoshanah said yesterday, “The situation is bad. But the fact is we have a nice life.” It’s true. Tel Aviv blooms with flowers, seaside cafés, world-class performing and visual arts. But I am acutely conscious of the Palestinians, so close and so invisible. The dissonance exhausts me. I can’t forget for a second that twenty miles away are two and a half million people who have no freedom of movement, no autonomy, who live in poverty and extreme stress, stigmatized as terrorists, subject to random imprisonment and violence.
At the same time, I feel affection and respect for the community of playback people here. They have been welcoming and appreciative. And I’m slowly getting a sense of the price they themselves are paying. Denial takes a toll. Facing the situation is agonizing. Doing something about it requires a degree of courage and vision that is out of reach for most people.
At dinner one night I meet a young couple, Rachel and Leah, who used to go into the West Bank to train people working with special needs children. Now they cannot, they say, because of border restrictions (although Ester, a committed activist I meet later, ignores these restrictions – “I know it’s very hard for an Israeli to go into the West Bank,” I say to her. “But I do,” she responds simply). These young professionals, with valuable skills to share if they could, ask me about my experience in Palestine. I tell them some of my stories. I quote Ibrahim’s comment on the drive to Ramallah – that he sees no future. Rachel says, “We see no future either. Our present is OK, yes, but we cannot see what will happen, or that anything good can happen.” She is nursing her baby boy as she speaks.
I’ve been noticing more and more young soldiers on the streets. Perhaps they are coming home to their families for the two celebrations that come soon after Holocaust Remembrance Day: Soldiers’ Memorial Day, immediately followed by Independence Day. A cynical juxtaposition, some say. The young men and women in their brown uniforms look vibrant and healthy. The women manage to be stylish, with long flowing hair and low-cut pants. No one wears hats. Shirts are open at the neck. They look like what they are, everybody’s children, everybody’s brothers and sisters–everybody.
These attractive young people striding along the streets of Tel Aviv could be the soldiers who are feared and despised by my friends in Palestine. Just as, though no one spoke of it, the workshop participants listening so attentively to my comments about the West Bank undoubtedly included some who spent time there in uniform.
I read somewhere recently: “Israel does not want to know what its sons are doing in the army.” And its daughters too.
Irrevocable harm has been done. So many Palestinians have been displaced, humiliated, brutalized, killed. Israelis too have their tragic personal losses, their own violent traumas to live with, eroding trust and openness. And worst of all, perhaps, the corrosive knowledge, conscious or otherwise, that their brave new world is founded on the displacement and suffering of an entire population.
It is almost superhuman – though some, both Palestinian and Israeli, try very hard – to hold onto hope and the possibility of change.
One of the actors in the Freedom Bus team said to me, “I will never see a solution. It won’t happen in my lifetime. Maybe in my son’s, or his son’s.” He does not yet have children. His compatriot Ibrahim sees no future. Rachel and Leah, the Israeli couple who used to travel to the West Bank, see no future. And yet the future will come. “Maybe it’s just a question of temperament,” says Ester, the Israeli activist, trying to understand why she stubbornly insists on doing something, as opposed to nothing. The perseverance of such people, wrote David Grossman in The Yellow Wind, “is what keeps alive the alternative to an otherwise general paralysis and lethal despair.”
I think of the Freedom Theatre founder Juliano Mer Khamis’s vision of transformation through the arts, and the theatre work that brought me here. I think of Rachel and Leah’s children whose small bodies hold a life force propelling them into the future, as living organisms must. There will be a future, bearable or not.
Notes
- Since January 2025 much of the Jenin refugee camp has been destroyed by the Israeli army. The Israeli flag now flies over the Freedom Theatre.
- Ta-Nehisi Coates in The Message writes about the parallels between Israel and the pre-civil rights American South.
- Since renounced.
- Palestinian citizens of Israel may cross into the West Bank, but the stateless people of the West Bank may not leave unless they have special permits.
- Now 700,000.
- “Administrative detention” allows the occupation forces to detain people indefinitely without explanation, charge, or trial.
About the author
Jo Salas is the co-founder of Playback Theatre, the founder of Hudson River Playback Theatre, and an international trainer. Jo’s publications on Playback Theatre include numerous articles, a TEDx talk Everyone has a story, and the books Improvising Real Life: Personal Story in Playback Theatre, published in eleven languages; Do My Story, Sing My Song: Music Therapy and Playback Theatre with Troubled Children; and Personal Stories in Public Spaces: Essays on Playback Theatre by Its Founders, co-authored with Jonathan Fox. Her novel Mrs. Lowe-Porter was published in 2024.
Storying Stories, Insights from Vagina Polyphony Performances
By Selloane Mokuku, Merran Roy, and Kenya Winn
Abstract
There is a subtle and invisible tension lurking in corridors around our understandings of therapy and healing. When the arts get into the fray, the tension gets nuanced and can influence our thoughts about what harms or heals. Such tensions can become further heightened in certain settings, such as higher education. This is particularly the case when using Playback Theatre, a form that may provide healing or therapeutic elements to audience and performers alike. Inspired by two performances designed to celebrate women’s day of 9 August in South Africa, titled Vagina Polyphony, this article argues that when students have the courage to tell their stories and in turn be performed back, an alternative way of healing may be discovered. It suggests that given the right context, clarity around the impact of Playback Theatre on audiences based on performers’ preparation and containment, may be key in unlocking the tension around therapy and healing. Based on interactions with artists and audiences, the paper describes a carefully considered collaboration between the artists and therapists in a move toward community wellness. It argues that such a collaboration is critically needed in South Africa, where the burden of health care is felt by many in institutions of higher learning and beyond.
Keywords: Applied Theatre, Playback Theatre, audience, therapy, healing, stories, decolonising healing
Three Thousand Six Hundred Seconds … Counting
The pre-set includes the shadow play reflection and art materials to visually capture the stories that are ready to be told. The lights are on, dim enough to complement the pre-set. Welcome music plays softly from the band; a group of vocalists and instrumentalists who call themselves The Sand Band.
The audience walks in … murmurs trickle to join The Sand Band, which sways and moves to the rhythm of the drum and percussions.
The audience eventually settles, and the performers burst with full energy from somewhere, filling the space with movement and song, the band acoustically accompanying. It’s a call and response:
Wena ungubani? Who are you?
Hei! Hei!
Uhlala kuphi? Where do you live?
Hei! Hei!
Zazize Make yourself known/introduce yourself
Hei wena, hei wena he,
hei wena… Yes you…
Each of the players stand to attention: Eyes, ears, heart, body and mind open. They introduce themselves and where they come from as well as something about themselves in relation to the topic for the day. For example, “My name is Noni, I come from Durban, my tongue twists when I say the word vagina…”
The conductor is the first one to introduce their self. They save their energy to hold the space and the audience later because they are the “conduit, the channel through which audience and actors can meet” (Salas, 2013, p. 65). The band goes last and collectively concludes their introduction by saying “Sithanda ukucula (we like singing).”
This is the beginning of the performance. Introductions serve as an invaluable approach to demonstrate that performers are regular people and lift the expectation of watching actors perform for spectacle. Through this introduction, “we are saying that we can look closer to home than the cultural icons, and grow through each other’s experiences” (Salas, 2013, p. 8). In the South African context though, this could be considered to be a form of a greeting, which is fundamental in acknowledging the other and to make them feel welcome. This greeting introduces “a new kind of theatre that brought theatre back from the domain of entertainment to its earlier purpose of preserving memory and holding the tribe together.” (Fox, 2007, p. 92). It also frames the performance because, at a later stage, the Conductor will ask audience their names when they tell their stories, and this should not come as a surprise.
The audience (tellers) and actors (players) are deeply impacted by the stories. Sometimes to the point that they may feel temporarily distressed by them. But what we have noticed through the feedback we receive is that it tends to cause further storying. We as co-researchers ended up telling our own stories about the impact of the Tellers’ stories on us, whether we processed those internally or by writing them down in an article for further public consumption. There is a ripple effect. Stories told publicly have an opening effect. They trigger more stories.
The structure of this article will borrow from the long story format in Playback Theatre. There will be detours and other characters in the form of performers (Players, Conductor, Musician, Shadow play and Art response), Tellers (from performance stories, interviews and focus group discussions) and literature. Names of the tellers and interview respondents are not identified. Only the writers’ names have been included.
So where does our story begin?
Playback Theatre and MEQOQO Playback Theatre Collective
Our story takes us back to the birth of MEQOQO Playback Theatre Collective. It also takes us back to Playback Theatre; an improvisational form of theatre that tells people’s stories on the spot. (Salas, 2013, p. 7) encapsulates the form’s principle in that: “When people are brought together and invited to tell personal stories to be acted out, there are a number of messages and values that are communicated. Many of which are radically at odds with the prevailing messages of our culture.”
This form of theatre was started by Jonathan Fox and Jo Salas with the original Playback Theatre in the United States of America in 1975. Since then, the form has drawn an attraction to many artists and therapists in diverse countries including institutions of Higher Learning, notably Drama for Life in South Africa.
MEQOQO is currently based at Rhodes University’s Drama Department. It was established in 2018 after an extensive training on Playback Theatre by Mammatli Thakhuli-Nzuza of Mankokosane Playback Theatre. It started as an integration into the Applied Theatre curriculum at undergraduate and postgraduate level, but as a collective it is also open to other students and staff of the university, as well as the local Makhanda community broadly. To date, members of MEQOQO have collectively or individually received training and workshops from well-known Playback Theatre practitioners such as Cheraè Halley, Candice Steele and Warren Nebe. Jo Salas also ran a pre International Playback Theatre Network (IPTN) conference1 workshop at Drama for Life in Johannesburg and Jonathan Fox ran a workshop at the IPTN conference in South Africa. Meqoqo is a Sesotho word for stories and as such MEQOQO pays tribute to the essence of the art form. Since its establishment, the Collective has curated performances addressing diverse issues on a quarterly basis on campus and beyond. Salas’ (2013, p. 2) notion of how playback has adapted and changed and that “our way, is not the only or right way to do Playback Theatre” rings true to MEQOQO.
The Collective has sought to expand and push the bounds of what Playback Theatre can do, what it can be utilised for and how it can be experienced, while being cognisant of the basic values and structure as well as the diverse topics we address. More specifically, with full knowledge of Thompson’s (2003, p. 20) assertion that while we may be aware of the debates in diverse fields, “we are only ever visitors within the disciplines into which we apply our theatre.” Fox (2007) suggests that some people get confused about Playback Theatre. They wonder if it is theatre or therapy; “But tell me, is it really therapy?” Behind the remark lurked a criticism: “This is not theatre as I know it. ‘Of course it’s theatre! I wanted to cry. It’s theatre. It’s theatre!’”
We echo these sentiments and hope the stories that emerge from the paper may hold space for your own confusion, if you have any, and may spark discussion as playback so often does. Some of the topics that have been tackled by MEQOQO include heritage, womxn, Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Queer, Transgender, Intersex (LGBQTI+); university life (this normally happens though the orientation show for first year students); disability and race discrimination. All these themes are underpinned by the agenda of supporting student mental health by exposing common or shared experiences, de-stigmatising students’ coping mechanisms, and normalising conversations about these issues.
The two Vagina Polyphony shows paid tribute to the 1956 protest by women in South Africa, who on 9 August marched to the Union Buildings in Pretoria, protesting an extension of pass laws to women. A Teller of Vagina Polyphony reflected post the performance that “I think you provide a very genuine space for people to heal and get to grips with their experience of their lives.” We didn’t know. We never do. Not then. We can’t predict how a night will go. Can’t predict what ends up filling the space in those three thousand six hundred seconds.
Vagina Polyphony Theme
As a discipline, Applied Theatre (Thompson, 2003, p. 15) suggests it “translates and adapts to the unfamiliar. It is a theatre wedded to vital issues and one that values debates.” In a similar vein, we argue that Playback Theatre is a shared art; bringing to life a sense of community that is highly prevalent in an African context. It allows for one to get a view of the community at large; because as much as stories are shared by individuals, they are held by not only the conductor, the players, the musicians and artists, but also by the audience. The audience at large experiences the story with the teller as it is played back. Playback Theatre explores and provokes conversations that are not always easy and is very much figuratively opening up a can of worms that one does not always want to, or find necessity in opening. As such, it is an art form that requires both firm and careful handling, and this is reflected in the way in which a team prepares for a show and trains.
Perhaps the performance would afford us an opportunity to dialogue with the Makhanda community about the plight of women in South Africa. After all playback does not solve problems “but helps us to understand the problems so we can do something about it and make the choices accordingly” (Vorobyeva, nd, p. 144). In a similar vein, (Boal, 1985) suggests an exploration of alternatives. As such, a leaf from Robert Varea’s foreword in Salas (2013) that in “learning to recognise these invisible patterns in their infinite yet specific possibilities, not just in us but also in others, is a real life’s work” becomes invaluable.
Apart from deliberating titles, there is a consciousness about inadequate appreciation of subject matters we address as highlighted by Thompson (2013). As such, we enter into a dialogue with experts in diverse fields. For Vagina Polyphony, we invited two Rhodes University lecturers from the School of Journalism and Media Studies to expose MEQOQO members to the historical significance of 9 August as well as the plight of women in recent years. It became obvious from the discussions in the room that a story may have multiple interpretations and that it was important to understand the context of every single story. Toward this end (Vorobyeva, nd, p. 47) posits that “when we listen to a story, we need to acknowledge it by being curious about which of their identities the teller is opening for us.” This understanding is critical for the performers, especially the Conductor to understand.
Kenya’s story
When preparing for our show, we were brainstorming titles.
We wanted to do something completely different from the other shows we’d done before. Rhodes University (RU) Make sure Orientation Show? RU Inclusive? RU IN? But then out of the plethora of titles being thrown into the space, came ‘Vagina Polyphony’. There were immediately concerns raised about the word ‘polyphony’. What does it mean? Who will understand it? Isn’t it too complicated? But my mind was questioning the word ‘vagina’ and the theme of our show, to celebrate and cater towards women’s month. I raised my concern. “Not everyone that identifies as a woman has a vagina.” And in retrospect, not everyone that has a vagina identifies as a woman.
That brought on a few questions within myself on why we celebrate women’s month, and who for? As a trans man I was born with a woman’s body, assigned female at birth. But because I identify as a man, does that exclude me from the struggle women face with issues targeted at the female health? And in the same breath, are trans womxn part of the recognition? Non-binary individuals assigned female at birth?
These questions floated around, and I realised that because of my identity I feel almost reluctant to voice my struggles living in a female body, because I’m not a woman. And so that (aside from other obligations that prevented me) was one of the reasons I did not want to be a performer in the show. Because would I be betraying who I am in pursuit to defend the body that keeps me alive, even though they are struggles I face?
Merran’s story
I never used the word ‘vagina’ freely in my life, despite considering myself a feminist. Growing up it was not heard in my family. Perhaps to protect my father as the only male in the house? But from what? Only in recent years, as my teenage daughter began freely using ‘vagina’ and many other words, did I question my discomfort, practise using it myself. Vagina. It was liberating, but I still didn’t understand my original discomfort. During the lead up to the Vagina Polyphony performances, I feel excited to be associated with this clever, beautiful title. I share the poster proudly.
The performance has started…
Artwork by Merran Roy (2024)
(2024)
Merran’s story continues
It’s the first night of our two performances. I am full of mixed anticipation as to how the audience will respond to our theme. I choose to do individual art-gifting instead of one combined piece, never sure what inner instincts nudge this last-minute decision. Our Conductor leads, voicing the word several times in ways that slightly alter whether she is confronting the audience, asking them a question, or offering them a poem. “Vagina, vagina, vagina…” she muses, following with her invitation for ‘popcorn…’
“One word! How do you feel sitting here right now?” she coaxes.
First voice. Loud. Clear. Male. Unashamed.
“Horny!”
Laughs. Looks pleased with his… his what? Honesty? Provocation?
Is it directed at our Conductor?
We had prepared ourselves for difficult tales of struggle and resilience. That’s what this annual performance normally reveals.
We had not prepared for this.
Stunned. I freeze. My eyes dart from Conductor to Teller to Players to audience. Is it only me who feels slapped? Is it only me who feels the title’s invitation to explore multiple, complex, nuanced meanings of the word, of what it means to be a Woman, to have a Women’s Day, month, has been violated?
One can almost feel the thrum of anticipation flooding through the room. Audience members that have never experienced Playback Theatre wonder about what is to come. Those who have experienced Playback Theatre before wait to see what stories would unfold.
The lights never dim. All can see one another; audience and performers. Everything is already laid bare. All are in anticipation of listening and witnessing the stories being spontaneously and artistically played back.
Sixty minutes. Three thousand six hundred seconds.
The role of the Conductor is very delicate, and depending on how audiences are held, we argue that controversies around healing or therapy may arise. Drama therapist and playbacker Paula Kingwill suggests that “caution must be exercised in inviting stories, lest a confusion between therapy and healing arises.” (personal communication, 18 January, 2025).
It’s a build-up or a warm up.
First few minutes. Moments, moments, moments.
“Damn!” The same teller shares he had bought a girl pizza, weed, alcohol and the girl refused to have sex with him.
Few more minutes later; A short story, a short story, a short story.
“Wish I could have been there for my sister.” The same teller discovered their sister contracted a sexually transmitted infection from an older boyfriend.
Few more minutes later; A short story, a short story, a short story.
“Yoh ndimithi” Another teller shares a story of their first menstruation, and the confusion of being pregnant while not being sexually active at Grade 7, because they did not know what the blood on her white pants meant.
“You are 52 years old!” Another teller, 22 years old shares a story of a stranger attempting to coax her into having an affair with her.
The Room. A teller joins the conductor on stage and shares a long story of how a friend nearly raped her in her room.
Sometimes the teller is playful, unserious. But their voice gets more serious as the weight of the story settles into the room; as the weight of the story lifts from their shoulders.
Sometimes you can’t tell their mood. Nevertheless, The Sand Band often fills the silence, when a need arises. The weight is transferred to the story itself. To the conductor, the players, the artist, and the musicians.
And as the music stops.
“Was it something like that?” the Conductor asks.
The weight dissipates.
How does the story continue?
Hearing each other out and rehearsals
During the rehearsal, we warm up and tell each other stories. “Coming together in this way and to hear each other’s stories, makes me feel like I am not alone and as a performer, I feel like I can relate, and I can anticipate the story in an actual performance.” (Performer, 2024). Adding that the rehearsal gave them a sense that “the stories that we’re gonna be dealing with during those performances are going to be heavy. And it put me in a way whereby I knew that in anything I do as a musician, I have to be sensitive” (Performer, 2024). Moreover, they referred to the value of listening to the expert and asserted that “I think when we started off I thought it would be such a taboo topic and I thought only primarily women would engage in the whole theme and after that presentation, I could see lots of my own life stories, it left me thinking very deeply about the women in my life um and then I found myself also um I think just feeling quiet” (Performer, 2024).
Selloane’s story
She almost got raped. And he stayed in her mind. Days after her victory. Her story is now in my mind and I know why. A teller comes on stage. You know it is a moment for a long story. The courage to speak is enough to call for a celebration.
The conductor sits on the left hand side, maybe left? Nevertheless upstage left. The fundamental rule has to do with protecting the teller (Personal communication, Salas, 5 December 2023).
She narrates that she often sits alone at the dining hall. And a friendship with one of the boys who eats at the same dining hall is welcome. One day, the boy asks to come visit- She has warmed up to this relationship. At the hall of residence reception where visitors sign in, she skips the requirement, and they go straight to her room. In her mind, she is enjoying the friendship. He makes himself comfortable, and she becomes uncomfortable in her own room. He takes off his shirt, demands a sexual intimacy. In her mind, she tells herself. “No! It’s not gonna happen”-
They fight over her body-
She is too scared to scream. She knows in her mind, she will not have forced sex with him and he eventually leaves.
Perhaps the ache from traces of bruises may remind her about what just happened with her friend. Her vagina is safe. He did not penetrate her. After this ordeal she decides to keep quiet about it. She raises many questions about him alone. Can I report this? She knows the legislative framework can support her. What if his future is ruined from my reporting, why did I bring him to my room? Why did I not sign him in, why…
And then what happens?
In his study on mental distress in the Eastern Cape Province, Mutinta (2022) confirms that the prevalence of distress amongst university students has gotten higher. He argues that “South Africa, as other low-and middle-income countries is facing numerous challenges in meeting mental health needs, being among one of the least spotlighted areas.” Arguably, Arts media provide a safer, indirect outlet, where the overt focus is on the arts process more than themselves, but along the way participants can find themselves sharing intimate and sensitive issues they previously could not find words for. Consequently, an art form such as Playback Theatre offers an opportunity for large audiences to be reached in one sitting via a handful of artists. The feedback evidences that people feel empowered, more resilient and more connected after attending or participating in Playback Theatre performances.
We invite voices from the audience for this section as they shared their own experiences about the performance: “For me, it just plays such a huge role in breaking silence. It’s one thing to see celebrities and to see stuff on social media and hashtag me too, and it’s all kind of out there, but just it’s that face-to-faceness of it that I think is so powerful” (Audience member, 2024). While the other expressed that “I liked getting to hear people’s stories and understanding the things that people go through and realizing that we’re actually not alone, a lot of people got through very similar things. Like very similar things. And that’s where, I guess, we share some, some sort of, um, understanding. Yeah, I think that’s what I liked about it, it’s relatable.” The words “healing, therapy” kept creeping in: “To me it’s like therapy, it is healing, but I also enjoy it as theatre. I am sorry, I just love it” (Audience member, 2024).
Merran’s story continues
A large torn off piece catches my eye. I begin creating, before the audience even enters – this is a first. I gently scrunch up its edges and make a giant vagina as a base upon which to weave tonight’s stories. I have already decided on creating one piece. Easier to disguise a missing story if I suffer another block. I feel very brave, making a giant vagina. Feels like I am reclaiming something from the night before. I love how it emerges. I ponder Kenya’s comment from our team debate about the title … “Not every person who identifies as a woman has a vagina.” Or was it, “Not every person with a vagina identifies as a woman.”? Either way, as I pinch the paper into shape, I reflect on what the title perhaps means to me personally. One thought foregrounds itself. Unequivocally.
Vagina.
Birth.
My vagina.
Two souls’ portal into this life. This world.
Awareness seeps into my creative trance of my giant paper vagina becoming publicly exposed as audience noises fill the theatre. I feel vulnerable. Fearful of provoking ‘horniness’. Dig for courage to honour my daughter, honour her generation’s progress in owning this word. In dressing how they wish. In demanding the right to have a vagina or identify with whatever gender they are comfortable without risk of violation. Ground myself. Resist the urge to scrunch it up or conceal it.
Why would you say you remember this story?
Perhaps we share (Salas, 2013, p. 8) outlook and “we are saying that story itself is of the profoundest importance, that we need stories to construct meaning in our lives, and that our lives themselves are full of stories, if we can learn to discern them.”
Selloane’s story continues
It is the contemplation that the Teller was left with, after her friend turned potential rapist left the room. How she shifted the spotlight of pity to him. I am still battling to understand how blatant aggression and disrespect for a woman’s body gets easily forgiven but not forgotten. The Teller could not find the title for her story. An audience member suggested THE ROOM. I wondered what other stories the room knew about. The Teller did wonder if she was the first or the last woman who had experienced this ordeal under the friendship of this man. This poor boy whose aggressive penis is lurking on campus. I wondered about the level of protection that girls might need beyond the legislative framework, what would it take for this female student to take time privileging her experience. Where is the male friend now?
Merran’s story continues
It emerged during conversations with my co-researchers about why it feels like we need to either to ‘defend’ or ‘deny’ that Playback Theatre offers healing. For certain performances or themes the university has appeared anxious about the potential for us to trigger or re-traumatise participants in an uncontained manner that may cause harm to students in their care. There have been mutterings in the corridors after shows where audience or Tellers were moved to tears. There have been shows where the institution has insisted upon, or where we have requested (to protect ourselves from accusation of doing harm?) the presence of Counselling staff in the theatre, or in a debrief room nearby after the show. For me this often felt a bit ‘over-the-top’ or even contradictory to what we are offering, but I felt unable to voice this. From all the post-performance research interviews and informal feedback we have received, so far there is no evidence that we are doing harm. To the contrary, there is plenty of evidence that people are experiencing moments of growth, relief and healing, of which tears are a natural part thereof. And it is the PUBLIC telling and the artistic validation of their stories that people connect to the experience of healing.
Kenya’s story continues
In retrospect, these are things that people don’t very often consider when talking about women’s month. How could it be? How can we hope for transgender and transsexual bodies to be catered for when cisgender women aren’t even respected in our communities? That came across very vividly to me during the two performances, looking back. As far as we’ve come in promoting equality, there is still so much repression for female bodies because of these ideologies surrounding them. Where men think they have the right over a woman’s body and where women don’t (or can’t) fight this because it’s what is enforced through the generations.
Discussion: What would you say you understand now?
Historically across the world, women were the custodians of rich medicinal practices, largely rooted in their generational, accumulative experience as midwives. They were definitely in charge of all things vagina-related including birth control, pregnancy terminations, and the management of puberty, menopause and menstruation. They handed their knowledge of herbs, plants, roots, lotion and potion recipes down through generation after generation. Healing roles were often also held by gender-nonconforming people, who were respected in many indigenous cultures as being powerful because they possessed both masculine and feminine spirits and knowledge.
We argue that the Christian indoctrination began to demonise these roles and practices as the patriarchy agenda gained momentum. The witch-hunts across medieval Europe extended to the criminalisation and persecution of midwives, medicine women and all those who defied the increasingly binary social norms. This facilitated a dramatic and rapid shift towards the white, western, academic-degreed, monetised, binary-male domination of global medicine and healing practices we are still struggling to challenge and dismantle today. (Federicci, 2004) argues that to escape persecution and death, midwives, medicine women and gender-nonconforming healers were forced to hide, or to suppress, conceal and even forget their knowledge, instincts and practices. The epistemicide of communally held healing practices spread from Europe throughout the world with colonisation. One of the most devastating casualties of this epistemicide was the decline of natural birth in the onslaught of invasive, male-led medical interventions, and eventually the boom of elective (as opposed to emergency) caesarean section deliveries. With this came the near global extinction of natural breech birth.
We must wonder. Playback Theatre moves healing into the public and artistic domains as an act of decolonisation and anti-capitalism. A rebellion against Western, individualised, monetised models of healing. A reminder of the power of community. When an individual seeks help within a western clinical model, they lie on a couch and give away their story to highly degreed experts. They wait, patiently, to be diagnosed, prognosed, prescribed and passively treated. Stories of harm are told confidentially behind closed doors, then locked away in files in metal cabinets, often perpetuating the blanket of social silence they have had to overcome to seek the clinician’s room in the first place. They leave the couch and step back into the same society that is doing them harm under the same cloak of silence.
Playback Theatre lifts that cloak. It gives choice. The witnessing of a story told publicly is somewhat infectious, builds courage to also tell, to also break silence, to also seek validation. It affirms the individual as the owner of their story, whilst simultaneously allowing the owner to realise they are not alone and there are many others with similar stories. PT does not pretend to have answers. It does not pretend to be therapy. It listens to the story, reproduces it as an art form purely as a means of clarifying the story has been correctly heard.
It thanks the Teller for gifting, and gifts them in return with an option to reject or accept. It is a process of two-way gifting in the moment, but beyond that, long after that moment, there is a ripple effect of multiple other stories that are triggered and thereby also gifted to anyone who experienced the original moment/performance.
Conclusion – Our parting thoughts
During our analysis of the feedback, we realised that there was an essence of community healing that came out, and we recognized the potential in including and partnering with the counselling centre in the future. The title’s meaning was captured beautifully by one of the players:
“Vagina Polyphony is a variety of tones and voices at the same time in brackets like a harmony. When we share our stories and experiences of women, it sometimes feels like that; a coming together of women from all walks of life.”
The title and how it was framed, recognises the importance of community, of diverse voices, of bringing those voices together to portray a diverse and nuanced story and collective of shared experiences to shed light on lived experience.
During our preparation for the show, we reached out to the counselling centre to attend the performance. As a collective we discussed in the past how we are not in any means counsellors and cannot provide any sort of healing to an audience beyond taking care of a story shared with us. This led to the discussion of the counselling centre being present at the show in order to make their own observations on the possible healing potential of Playback Theatre.
Representatives from the counselling centre sat in on the show and shared their perspective. We share their voices: “So we do that all the time, we hear people’s stories, and we empathize and we put ourselves in their shoes and then after hearing that you see it being performed and that’s where now you become part of it as well.” Adding that “in therapy you are more empathetic as opposed to being sympathetic. So I think that’s the difference I noticed being in that setting. You get to be sympathetic, like be in, live with them.” They go further to assert that “Just any person that had experienced trauma, to have their story performed like that, it would really help people understand what the person is going through on a deeper level. Like not just listening to them…but seeing it performed; it gives a different perspective.”
We argue that the community of Playback Theatre brings about the breaking of silence – making public – ripple effect. The confidential, private therapist’s couch may heal individuals, but they leave that room back into a society that may continue to harm them. So perhaps the method of healing is part of the problem in that it perpetuates the silence and does not impact or change the society. We contend that Playback Theatre has the potential to do both. The Tellers are saying they experience moments of profound healing and relief in the public telling of their story, and the affirmation they receive through it being ‘played back’ artistically. The making of their story into an art form gives it weight and importance. They feel validated. It is (Perry and Winfrey, 2021, p. 17) who lit our path by sharing around questioning “What’s wrong to What happened.” We argue that debates about therapy or healing should best be considered by acknowledging how Playback Theatre is used in diverse contexts, and that the Tellers’ voices about their experience should be heard. If they ask whether it is therapy or healing, as Playback Theatre we should be clear in our practice about the potential this form could bring. Healing, therapy, and/or both.
Choosing to move our stories from the secrecy of the clinical couch into the public domain where they can resonate with all the other stories that affirm we are not alone, validating the harm done to us by society by having our stories turned into art forms, publicly, respectfully and sensitively, is an act of reclaiming our power to heal ourselves, in community, and in the process to ripple those healing moments into society, thereby changing the environment that is causing the harm, one story at a time.
Our knowledge has not been extinguished. It lives on inside our bodies. Our DNA. Our inherited memory. Playback Theatre offers a space where we listen to ourselves and each other more deeply. In community. It offers potential to reclaim our stolen power.
Notes
- Pre IPTN Conference was run from 30 November to 3 December 2023, Drama for Life, Wits University, while the conference ran from 4 to 8 December 2023, Muldersdrift, South Africa It was the 12th World Conference, and the theme was Roots and Routes in Playback Theatre.
References
Boal, A. (1985). Theatre of the Oppressed. Theatre Communications Group: New York.
Federici, S. (2004). Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation. UK: Penguin Random House.
Fox, J. (2015). Beyond Theatre, a Playback Theatre Memoir, New Palts: Tusitala Publishing
Mutinta, G. (2022). Mental distress among university students in the Eastern Cape Province, South Africa. BMC Psychol 10, 204 (2022). //doi.org/10.1186/s40359-022-00903-8
Perry, B.D., Winfrey, O. (2022). What Happened To You? Conversations on Trauma, Resilience and Healing, Bluebird, London
Ronen, K., Shosi, K., Nir, R. (2019), Mirrors on stage: An introduction to psychotherapeutic playback theatre, The Arts in Psychotherapy, Volume 66
Salas, J. (2013). Improvising Real Life, Personal story in playback theatre.20th Anniversary Edition, Tusitala Publishing, New York
Thompson, J. 2003. Applied Theatre: Bewilderment and Beyond, Peter Lang AG, European Academic Publishers, Switzerland
Vorobyeva, A. (nd). Playback Theatre Around The Globe, Pockets stories to learn from
About the authors
Selloane Mokuku is an Applied Theatre practitioner and facilitates learning at Rhodes University. She is an artistic director of MEQOQO Playback Theatre Collective (@meqoqocollective_). She is a storyteller, playwright, facilitator, performer and academic with a vision to use the arts for justice and enhancing botho (humanity). She co-conceived and co-implemented KOKO. KNOCK KNOCK. NGONQO! Mental Health and Wellness Project; a trauma and Playback Theatre informed intervention for students. She is a Drama for Life //www.dramaforlife.co.za) alumni and a member of the South African Playback Theatre Association (SAPTA). She is the co-author of award winning play, DIPALO (2020) with Ginni Manning published by ASSITEJ SA (//assitej.org.za) and a single author of a self-published book, I Simply Cunt (2020).
Merran Roy began as an arts activist during her Fine Arts degree at WITS (1987-90) for children denied access to arts by Apartheid education. She qualified and gained 10 years’ clinical experience as an Art Psychotherapist in adult psychiatry and prisons in the UK. Since returning to South Africa in 2006, Merran has been delivering lower-level training in rural Eastern Cape. She founded Intlantsi Creative Development Project (2015, //intlantsi-creative.org.za ) and is collaborating nationally to accredit a decolonised, accessible Community Arts Repair Practitioner certificate, designed to utilise existing learning traditions found in each context. Merran has lectured at Goldsmiths College (UK), University of Johannesburg and Rhodes University, and performs with MEQOQO Playback Theatre Collective (@meqoqocollective_) as a visual artist.
Kenya Winn is a student at Rhodes University pursuing a BA in Classics, Latin, and Drama. A member of the MEQOQO Playback Theatre Collective (@meqoqocollective_) since 2024, he has embraced various Playback Theatre projects, including those integrating radio and theatre. He trained with the Johannesburg School of Mask & Movement Theatre in Johannesburg for the Masked Player: Embodied Play for the Actor/Performer. Kenya has multiple published poems and short stories including The Bear published in My Rage: A Charity Feminine Rage Horror Anthology by BDA publishing (2025). He is the co-Chairperson of MEQOQO and Chairperson for the Rhodes queer society, Nkoli Fassie. He continuously explores new artistic avenues and finds ways to incorporate activism into his work.
Going Between Two Worlds
By Paul Wong
This work is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
For details, please visit //creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/.
Abstract
This is a personal account of my adventure into Playback Theatre and, ultimately, my attempt to integrate the world of playback with the classroom where I work daily. In this paper, I highlight the similarities by examining education and playback as systems with a purpose. I argue that theatrical practice and training can be and should be integrated into our educational experience. The strength of playback practice is its emphasis on learning by doing, the importance of ensemble work, listening, offering, and the intention to honour the stories of others. These are deeply valuable attributes and offerings in the context of higher education. While an extensive account of cybernetics and system thinking (and acting) would not be feasible in this paper, I would like to introduce some key elements of systemic thinking to provide a framework to reinterpret higher education and playback as complementary practices. I hope this is the beginning of further conversations between practitioners of the two worlds. This is an offering where the story is yet to be told.
A Wanderer
When I first participated in improvisation theatre three years ago in Canberra, it was mostly for personal development. I did not have any training in theatre or acting. As a child, I participated in the traditional Sunday school Christmas play, portraying the three wise men, Joseph, Mary, and the baby Jesus. But the burden of being a wise man for my eight-year-old self was too much to bear. So, I said goodbye to the wise men, Joseph, Mary, and baby Jesus.
Waga Waga, Australia, 28th November 2024
Fast forward to my disastrous third-year undergraduate year, where I had too much fun with extracurricular activities alongside a group of self-declared anarchist flatmates. The result was a predictable “incomplete” for a couple of semesters. Meanwhile, theatre sports took off in Vancouver, and the government was keen to fund theatre for people of diverse backgrounds – I am a Canadian of Chinese descent, after all. Thinking I had nothing to lose, I went for an audition, read some lines, and got a call back for a half-day follow-up. Maybe playing a wise man as an eight-year-old set me on the wrong path. I just wasn’t funny enough on the day. Fast forward once again to the post-pandemic world. Baby Jesus seemed to have a way back. I was eager to do something fun, so I enrolled in improv classes as a form of comedic relief from my day job as a lecturer teaching a master’s course in cybernetic practice at the Australian National University. After three terms of night classes on improv theatre, I thought I would try something else. By chance, Rebus Theatre Co. advertised an audition for actors and musicians on Facebook. Not knowing that my definition of improvised music was misaligned with the rest of the world, I went for an audition. I was invited back, and I showed up week after week. Eighteen months on, I now perform with the Rebus Playback Ensemble around the Canberra area, initially as a musician and, more recently, as an actor.
The most recent performance is part of the Reconnection Series, in collaboration with the Foundation for Social Health, addressing the pressing mental health issue of loneliness. As an Australian-Canadian of Chinese descent, I am also pleased to contribute to the diversity of the Rebus Playback Ensemble.
The Intersection
Cybernetics is a discipline and practice that focuses on goal-directed or self-regulating systems (Meadows 2008; Ramage and Shipp 2009; Hodgson 2020; Ison and Straw 2020). By system, I do not mean a mechanistic (analogue or digital) artifact. Many naturally occurring phenomena are systems – the human body, an ant colony, and an ecological niche. Each of these systems can be characterised as comprising one or more functional components that contribute to the health and well-being of the overall whole (Lovelock 2000). A key feature of a cybernetic system is its ability to self-correct to its goal (health, survival, etc.). When a system’s action deviates from the goal, it corrects its course accordingly. This is achieved through continuous monitoring and self-correction using feedback. The human body, for instance, is a remarkable cybernetic system for regulating body temperature – it involves a feedback system controlled by the hypothalamus in the brain, acting as a thermostat.
The Master of Applied Cybernetic educational program at the School of Cybernetics can be interpreted as a cybernetic system comprising multiple contributing components, activities, processes, and practices. It involves teachers and students participating in structured, semi-structured, or unstructured learning and knowledge acquisition activities in a defined space and time. Teaching and learning are interdependent in that the success of teaching depends on learning achievement. So, teachers and students are not independent; they must contribute and collaborate in a way conducive to the educational goal.
When things go awry, students and teachers must work together to identify and address the issue; hence, feedback plays a central role in the system’s self-regulation.
Playback Theatre can also be interpreted as a goal-directed, self-regulated system. The system aims to enable stories to be heard, shared and reflected on stage – and, of course, to create social change more broadly by giving voice to those who are voiceless. Actors, the conductor, and the audience are part of a system involving actively exchanging information, meaning, and collective sense-making to create a shared understanding. Self-regulating in the sense of either real-time feedback during a performance or ongoing reflective ensemble practice is central to the craft and artistry of Playback Theatre.
Examining education and theatre through the same conceptual lens of self-regulating, goal-directed systems, I find it compelling as an educator to integrate theatre into the classroom (even though it is not a theatre class) and, conversely, to bring students to the theatre.
Melissa Gryglewski, Paul Wong, Lee Frances, and Robin Davidson
Interaction
A central focus of systemic thinking and acting is to attend to and cultivate the interactions of system components according to the system’s goal(s) or purpose(s). Noting that by interactions, I do not just mean those interactions between humans; depending on the system in question, it may include encounters with the environment, works of art, and co-inhabitants of the planet. Both playback and education are more than just content and content delivery. Instead, through the interactions of the components (student-teacher, actor-conductor-audience), stories, meaning, and knowledge are created and shared. In this sense, meaning and knowledge are not just information or content passed around within a system. The process by which we individually and collectively experience, internalise, and express ourselves is central to creating meaning and knowledge. More importantly, the collective endeavour for sense-making and meaning-making, which underpins self-knowledge, cannot be devoid of those interactions that prompt questions about values and purposes.
Context and Boundary
Systemic thinking and acting require us to frame the context and, at times, draw sharp boundaries (Holland 2014). By context, I mean the set of (often unspoken but understood) features of a given situation that enable us to make sense of the system. To take just one simple example, consider driving. If I were to drive my car in Vancouver, I would need to consider the transportation system as a different system. Yes, it’s me and my car. Still, the road conditions, the behaviour of other drivers, and the set of explicit and implicit driving rules are not the same – in Canada, drivers drive on the right side of the road, in Vancouver, cars would stop for pedestrians without a crosswalk, a traffic island or a traffic light. To travel safely from one place to another, I would need to adjust my behaviour on the road accordingly. To put it differently, contexts are features in each situation that could affect how one needs to act to achieve the relevant goal. These features are subject to change, either explicitly through a formal process or implicitly as social norms shift gradually.
At a recent Australasian Playback Theatre gathering, a group of playback musicians gathered during a workshop to consider how music’s mood could complement and evoke emotions on stage and for the audience and actors. The Mood Meter was introduced to organise and classify emotions and the associated dynamics.
The Mood Meter (aka RULER previously) was developed by Yale University researchers Susan Rivers and Marc Bracket (Rivers and Brackett 2010; Brackett et al. 2012; Brackett 2019) to help school teachers develop a Feeling Words Curriculum for emotion skills – recognising, understanding, labeling, expressing and regulating emotions. While the Mood Meter is a valuable tool for school teachers, it can lead to unintended consequences in the context of Playback Theatre and other forms of art making. As noted in (Rivers and Brackett 2010):
“Virtually all social interactions involve emotions. In every culture and subculture there are social norms dictating which emotions are acceptable to express in specific contexts (e.g., in public vs. private) and the intensity of the emotion that is appropriate to express (e.g., mild vs. extreme anger). For example, it is less acceptable in Asian cultures than it is in Western cultures to express negative emotions such as anger …”
The effectiveness of using the Mood Meter as a guide for musicians and actors to evoke emotions is thus dependent, in part, on a shared understanding of social norms and implicit social license to express those emotions. Our impulse to enact certain artistic expressions must be calibrated to the context of the occasion.
If context is a feature of a given situation that enables (or inhibits) achieving the system’s goal, the boundary of a system could be characterised as the span of possible actions that steer the system. This includes drawing sharp boundaries to suppress actions not conducive to the system’s goal. As we interact with increasingly diverse social, cultural, linguistic, and political groups, how we draw these boundaries must be sensitive to the context of the situation.
In the context of education and theatre, and social change more generally, it is incumbent on us as educators and performers to establish appropriate boundaries so that the classroom and the stage do not become an unintended platform for racism, colonialism, and sexism.
Scale of a System
Systemic thinking and acting require us to understand the scale of the system. We may consider the scale as the extent or dimension of the system – it may include the spatiotemporal, geopolitical, or socio-cultural dimension in which actions may be taken (West 2017). If we are considering a system at the scale of an individual (human), the scale of the system is the dimension of all the possible actions of an individual. Pauline may imagine flying to Jupiter in person, but Pauline cannot fly to Jupiter in reality. In contrast, at the scale of an organisation, it can carry out actions surpassing an individual – it can design and build a space probe and send the probe to Jupiter. Organisational actions involve collective actions greater than the sum of all individual actions. A central approach to scaling out systems is using networks. When one or more systems are networked together, it creates a system of systems that greatly enhances the capacity, capability, and possibility for action.
Complexity and Emergent behaviour
Systemic thinking and acting require us to consider the complexity of the system, as well as to understand the emergent behaviours of the system (Sawyer 2005; Gibb et al. 2019; Jensen 2022). There are many ways a system can be complex. It can be complex because each component has many degrees of freedom to act. In such a system, even with a few components, many rich interactions between components can exist. Alternatively, a system may have components with a few degrees of freedom but a large number of components, thus producing rich, diverse interactions. Yet still, a system may evolve from an initially simple system with only a few components and a few degrees of freedom, to a more complex system as the number of components and the degree of freedom grow over time. When a system is complex, it can exhibit aggregated behaviour that is novel and unpredictable. More importantly, these aggregated emergent behaviours cannot be wholly accounted for by the behaviour of the individual components. Consider an aircraft, for instance, each component may be tested and function normally and safely. However, this does not necessarily mean the aircraft is safe to fly. That’s because the interactions between components matter. A few seemingly isolated off-course interactions can cascade into a catastrophic failure. Safety of a system is thus an emergent property– it cannot be reduced to the safety of each component.
| Learning and Teaching | Playback Theatre | |
| Goal | Knowledge | Meaningful connection, social change |
| Interaction | Facilitation, exploration, experimentation, demonstration, conducting etc. | Offers, mirroring, contrast, turn-taking, non-verbal, tempo and dynamics, etc. |
| Context | Assumed Knowledge and skills | Lived experience or shared understanding |
| Scale | Multi-scale systems | Multi-scale systems |
| Complexity | Political interference, financial sustainability, pandemics etc. | Social licence and community support, financial model, pandemics etc. |
| Emergent behaviour | Transformative effects, unintended consequences, Perverse incentives etc. | Social Changes, unintended consequences, Perverse incentives etc. |
A Different Kind of Education: An Interlude
The Master of Applied Cybernetics is a highly unusual education program. The program aims to develop a new way to design, build, manage and decommission technologies. Central to this new way of thinking and acting is an underlying holistic approach to the relationship between humans, technologies and the environment, including co-inhabitants of the planet. We need to develop and manage technologies in safe, responsible, sustainable and scalable ways. Instead of working out the pathway ourselves, we take the educational program as a research project. Our students are co-investigators of the research; they help formulate and test assumptions, pilot different experiments and practices and create opportunities for learning by creating safe spaces for failure. A central guiding principle of the program is the cybernetic principle known as the law of prerequisite variety, established by the British psychiatrist and pioneer cyberneticist Ross Ashby (Ashby 1952, 1956). This law can be paraphrased as the maxim that complexity must be matched with capability – a system can meet complex challenges only if it has the relevant capability to address the complexity. At the heart of this maxim is the need to make diversity a key system feature. Without diversity, a system’s ability to address complex challenges would be seriously undermined. As such, the program and the research project are committed to
- Gender parity: half men and half women within each cohort, and 10% self-identified as gender diverse.
- Disciplinary and professional diversity: our students come from defence, banking, consultancy, law, social service, engineering, IT, software engineering, mathematics, science communication, journalism, entrepreneurship, economics, anthropology, environmental management, philosophy, theatre, and performance art, to name a few.
- Inclusion of underrepresented students: Every cohort since its establishment has had one or more First Nation students, including Aboriginal, Torres Strait Islander, and Pasifika (e.g., Hawaiian, and Māori) students. In recent years, we have also included neuro-divergent students and students with non-traditional backgrounds, e.g., without an undergraduate degree but with equivalent professional experiences.
- A communitarian approach to learning (and teaching): As noted before, mastery of content is only a partial and incomplete view of education. The program is committed to cohort-based learning, in which collective sense-making, doing, and knowledge co-production are central to the experience. Conversely, the teaching staff also works as a team to facilitate learning.
Education and Playback as Synergetic and Symbiotic Systems
In 2024, the School of Cybernetics and Rebus Theatre piloted and explored the application of theatre-based training in a higher education setting. We have conducted two training workshops for teaching staff to explore and extend their capabilities. These workshops were led by Rebus’ Artistic Director, Robin Davidson, and Actor, Melissa Gryglewski. In the first workshop, we introduced several standard theatre warm-up exercises, including:
- Game playing (and the celebration of failure)
- Sound and vocalisation
- Movement in space
- Expressing with movement
- Self-regulation and breathing
These are basic elements of Rebus Playback Ensemble training. While Playback Theatre is a very different kind of activity from teaching in a classroom, it is similar in that delivering a lecture has a strong performative element. Mere content delivery is insufficient. How the content is delivered matters.
In the second workshop, we focused on team teaching issues and the conflicts that may arise, e.g., norms regarding correcting each other’s errors in classroom situations. Teaching staff were asked to act out scenarios and reflect on possible alternative actions in these scenarios. This resembles some elements of the Forum Theatre approach to conflict resolution.
While not everyone who participated in the two workshops could see the relevance of the theatre-based training to teaching, the reception was generally positive. One participant wrote:
“I wanted to reflect on how privileged we are to have these types of growth opportunities.
Thank you for organising such a great session, and thanks to our school leaders for supporting it!”
Students from the master’s program were also invited to attend a playback performance in 2024. Of those who attended the performance, some were sufficiently inspired to redesign one of their facilitation assignments to incorporate personal storytelling as the centerpiece of their work. It is useful to quote the testimony of a student who participated in the facilitated session. (Names have been anonymised:
“The resource facilitation session … was a real standout for me. I think leadership is a theme that I’ve been struggling to grapple with this year. Betty and Amy did a fantastic job of bringing it down to the personal level, rather than asking us an abstract question such as ‘what does leadership mean to you?’ They gave us more personal prompts such as ‘describe a time when you have drawn on very diverse perspectives to make an important life decision.”
“At first it wasn’t obvious how this related to leadership, but as people started to tell their stories and we reflected on some of the common themes, ideas about leadership started to surface. Harry’s story in particular sticks in my mind. The way that he perceives different people’s abilities to deal with the challenges of leadership that come as part of his job.
It did make me reflect that despite the fact that I have never occupied positions of authority or managed many people, there are ways in which I have practiced leadership and that conversely titles don’t necessarily make people leaders.”
Here, the role of storytelling and lived experiences provided an empathic and powerful way to develop an alternative perspective on leadership and a deeper self-understanding of what it means to lead change. As this example illustrates, theatrical or aesthetic experiences offer alternative pathways for growth and learning.
Early this year, Rebus delivered another workshop for the School of Cybernetics – this time it was specifically for the students enrolled in the master’s program. We continued introducing small doses of Rebus Playback exercises to help build confidence for our students. Still, even that was triggering for some – personal and ongoing experience with racism and sexism has undermined their sense of agency and autonomy. Tears were shed during one of the exercises. The cohort, in turn, showed grace and camaraderie, offered support, reassurance and encouragement.
| Coda My initial intention in bringing playback to the classroom was to share my experiences and delights with my colleagues and students. I did not expect the impact it could have on my teaching practice and the learning outcomes. The effect is perhaps best captured by a testimony of one student: “The Masters of Applied Cybernetics program has surpassed my expectations. The learning journey, the positive learning environment, the endless support from the teaching team and the School of Cybernetics, the connections within the cohort, the industry partner experience and the course content have helped me to come out of my shell. The course has encouraged me to explore my creative side and has enabled me to reach new potential that I didn’t know I had. The course has changed my career aspirations, and I am looking forward to looking into new career opportunities that allow me to use what I have learnt in the course.” This lends substance to the phrase meaningful jobs and meaningful growth. Undoubtedly, Rebus Playback Ensemble has played a pivotal role in my student’s journey. Equally important, in an age in which we see a global rise in intolerance, polarisation, violence, deception, greed, and the relentless consumption and extraction of resources from the planet, we need to be steadfast in our commitment to education and the arts – we need better conversations and a deeper understanding of how education and the arts can support each other in creating a more humane and hopeful future. |
References
Ashby, W.R. (1956). An Introduction to Cybernetics, 6. repr, Chapman & Hall, London.
Ashby, W.R. (1952). Design for a brain, Wiley, Oxford, England.
Brackett, M. (2019) Permission to Feel: Unlocking the Power of Emotions to Help Our Kids, Ourselves, and Our Society Thrive, Celadon Books.
Brackett MA, Rivers SE, Reyes MR and Salovey P. (2012). ‘Enhancing academic performance and social and emotional competence with the RULER feeling words curriculum’, Learning and Individual Differences, 22(2):218–224, doi:10.1016/j.lindif.2010.10.002.
Gibb, S., Hendry R.F., and Lancaster, T., (2019). The Routledge Handbook of Emergence, Routledge.
Hodgson, A. (2020). Systems Thinking for a Turbulent World: A Search for New Perspectives, Routledge.
Holland, J.H. (2014). Signals and Boundaries: Building Blocks for Complex Adaptive Systems, MIT Press.
Ison R, and Straw E. (2020). The Hidden Power of Systems Thinking: Governance in a Climate Emergency, Routledge.
Jensen, H.J. (2022). Complexity Science, Cambridge University Press.
Lovelock, J. (2000). Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth, OUP Oxford.
Meadows, D. H. (2008). Thinking in Systems: A Primer, Chelsea Green Publishing.
Ramage M. and Shipp K. (2009). Systems Thinkers, Springer.
Rivers, SE and Brackett MA (2010). ‘Achieving Standards in the English Language Arts (and More) Using The RULER Approach to Social and Emotional Learning’, Reading & Writing Quarterly, 27(1–2):75–100, doi:10.1080/10573569.2011.532715.
Sawyer, R.K. (2005). Social Emergence: Societies as Complex Systems, Cambridge University Press.
West, G. (2017). Scale: The Universal Laws of Life and Death in Organisms, Cities and Companies, Hachette UK.
Acknowledgements
This work was conducted under the Australian National University’s Human Research Ethics protocol 2018/695 “Creating a new branch of engineering: prototyping, testing and iterating a curriculum with students”. Consent has been obtained from students and colleagues to use their photos and quotes in this work.
I would like to acknowledge that I am living in the country of the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people, whose land has never been ceded. I am grateful to Robin Davidson, Chipz Jin, Melessia Gryglewski, Chris Stanilewicz, Lousie Ellery, Ben Drysdale, Jay Taylor, Lee Frances, Stefanie Lekkas, Ash Lenton, and all my students and colleagues at Rebus and the School of Cybernetics for the endless laughter and for keeping me real.
About the author
Paul is a senior lecturer at the School of Cybernetics at the Australian National University. Paul discovered Playback Theatre accidentally eighteen months ago and has been gleefully embracing Playback ever since. As an apprentice with the Rebus Playback Ensemble, Paul was struck by the usefulness of theatre training and practice for his day job as a university lecturer and educator. With his co-conspirators from Rebus, Paul has introduced theatre-based training and practice into the School of Cybernetics and, ultimately, the classroom. As an educator, Paul is interested in a multidisciplinary approach to teaching, learning and knowledge (co-) production. More urgent than ever, Paul thinks we must redefine education as a communal endeavour with a shared sense of purpose and responsibility, where respect and diversity should be the guiding principles. As education is often identified as a pathway to jobs and growth, Paul would like to reframe that catchphrase with meaningful jobs and meaningful growth.
Musical Playback
By Lou Van Laake
Abstract
The Musician role is in many Playback Theatre companies a solo role. You are the one to start the enactment, to set the tone, to create an atmosphere, to follow or guide an actor, to create important silences, and often to end. You can decide. Some musicians work as a team, with one or more others, and these musicians will be more used to tune in to both their co-musicians and actors alike. But to take all the acting out, and leave just the musicians, that is something that is fairly new to the playback stage. In this brief article the author describes their experience of creating (and conducting) a music-only playback performance at the Two Islands UK and Ireland Gathering in November 2024.
Introduction
The first time I saw a Musical Playback Performance was in 2022 at the European Playback Theatre Gathering in Sofia, Bulgaria. Nine musicians graced the stage, led by one conductor. A musical spectacle that was mesmerizing, innovative, delicate, funny, inspiring, burned in my auditory memory, but also visually beautiful. I wanted more. But where?
Buckden Towers, England, 2024: the Two Islands Playback Gathering, a re-connective weekend for playbackers from all over Britain and Ireland. The Organisation Team were looking for teams to perform. We had one and needed another. And the memory of Sofia returned. Not just for myself, but also for Steve Nash, who had been one of the nine musicians there. Together, Steve and I started the search for musicians in the attendance list, and the interest in performing was bigger than we had hoped for. A team of six was happily confirmed.
Having seen how artfully Pontus Holmgren had conducted in Sofia, I felt I could try and step into the conductor role, with the experience of Steve in the midst of the new ensemble of musicians. We had a Zoom Meeting to have an introduction of the team, and a 2.5hr rehearsal on the day of the performance in Buckden. And then it was Show Time!
Setting The Scene
It was the second night of our weekend together. Many new faces, some old connections rekindled, new connections budding in the ground. Veronica Needa’s memory was very much present with us, with a place to think of her and leave her a message and acknowledge her impact on this specific community of playbackers. There had been some cognitive exploring of our possible new network, a lot of socialising, morning spaces for special subjects, and two workshops on various topics. On the other side of Buckden Towers, Manchester Playback was performing for one half of the audience, and we for the other; about 25 people each.
Our social mapping asked the audience: “For whom is this the first live performance?” (recognising that after our Covid Years not everyone had been able to experience a live performance yet). “Who has seen a Musical Playback Performance before?” One hand. “Where do you feel music in your body? And where are you now in your body?”
The themes that came up were very much based on music. There was excitement about this new form of playback, and a want to play with everyone. Positive tears were shed for the new and old connections and traditions between Hong Kong and the UK. A musical connection was made through old cassette tapes to a younger and healthier Self after surviving illness. Two hearts beat together to the sound of karaoke. A special love song was sung by a father and wished for the Self. There was a humming tradition in a family for their mutual support. Beats in the body that kept us awake at night. Song lyrics that were shared with and without knowledge of their meaning but always heard with love. A heart that was still connected to a special love song and the girl attached to it. And Caribbean sounds that were the background to a family story from a lioness.
Some audience feedback
“It was incredibly moving.”
“There was courage and sensitivity of the musicians.”
Types of Enactments
With our time limit to create a comfortable, tuned in and relaxed Enacting Team, we picked five forms to choose from during the performance, besides the introduction and ending pieces. This selection in hindsight was fairly small, as no Pairs or Transitional Stories came up. But this is what we used:
Introduction Flares – One by one, the musicians get up and stand next to the conductor, modelling the place of the Teller’s Chair and warming it up. Each person shares their name and a short piece about their own current feelings, after which all musicians give a short musical offer, all at the same time.
Fluid – A first repetitive sound establishes, before a new repetitive sound adds itself, to eventually build a soundscape of six repetitive sounds together.
Transitional Fluid – Two Fluids back to back. The first Fluid enacts the first part of the story, which ends in an auditory freeze. Everyone pauses for a few seconds, before the second part of the story is heard back in a Fluid.
Pairs – With six musicians, we divided into two teams of three, each team in turn playing one part of the Pair. The order of the pairs doesn’t have to be set, but in our case, we decided to have the left pair start, and then the right one. An option is to go back and forth once or twice more if that feels right to the team.
Three Part Story – With six musicians, we divided into three teams of two, each team in turn playing one part of the story. The order doesn’t have to be set, but in our case we decided to have the left team start, then the middle one, and then the right one.
Story – The Teller chooses a Teller’s Musician, who leads the musical enactment. Often the voice was used more by the Teller’s Musician, either with spoken word or humming. The other musicians can add anything at any time. We suggested that the Teller’s Musician led the start and ending of the enactment.
Ending – “I remember” statements from both the performance team and then the audience. Each performer, including the conductor, is invited to share an “I remember…” statement from what is still alive for them from the performance. When all performers, or most, have shared a memory, the conductor invites the audience to share their “I remember…” statements too, until the conductor feels it is time to end and close the performance with a bow (or two) from the team.
What worked well
Working in pairs or trios – It helped to be linked to someone during the performance, and over time the other becomes better known and easier to tune in with.
Conduct as normal – I had many questions beforehand about changing my normal way of conducting to cater it towards a more musical direction. Did I have to ask for things like rhythm in the story, or energy, musical genres? I asked the team, and the answer was a comforting “No”. We listen with the same tools and skills as usual, both as conductor and musician. The only thing that was changed from the usual format, is that I used “Let’s listen” as a launching sentence.
The Ending – The act of getting up from the musician’s seat at the end was found “humanising and moving” and made the form “not showy”.
What can be improved?
Our audience had to get used to a new way of experiencing Playback Theatre; they had to get used to the purely auditory enactments. This raised various thoughts:
- Our audience started with telling stories that had something to do with music, and although the conductor numerous times said that the sharing didn’t have to be about music, the tellers chose to keep to this topic. So, it became the theme of the performance: our connection to music, where it lives in our body, how we use it in our daily lives, and how it can be the soundtrack to certain stories. In Sophia, the audience didn’t share any specific music-related stories, but it is something to be mindful of when doing a Musical Playback performance. Let your audience know their stories don’t have to be connected to music at all.
- We started our performance with introductions from the team in Flares, with short moments played back by the other five musicians. The feedback afterwards was that this introduction to the new way of enacting was an onslaught to the senses, and too chaotic. Our suggestion is to do a Flare with just 2 musicians, which gives the audience the space to hear each individual musician/instrument, and to gently ease into the musical world we create. Like a massage, in which the first touches are gentle, so that later the body can handle bigger things, we should introduce the musical beats we have so that later we can create bigger bolder sounds when needed. A suggestion for how to structure this form, with 6 musicians, would be as follows:
Conductor introduces themselves: Musician 1&2 or 3&4 do a Flare.
Musician 1 comes forwards with intro: Musician 3&4 do a Flare
Musician 2 comes forwards with intro: Musician 3&4 do a Flare
Musician 3 comes forwards with intro: Musician 5&6 do a Flare
Musician 4 comes forwards with intro: Musician 5&6 do a Flare
Musician 5 comes forwards with intro: Musician 1&2 do a Flare
Musician 6 comes forwards with intro: Musician 1&2 do a Flare
- Create more auditory space: With six musicians, it was hard to hear everybody when all were playing at the same time. In future, we would suggest playing with silence more, together with pauses and freezes. And to use the option of not playing at all if another addition is not necessary. A solution for this could be a form with more structure, like Episodes, where a musician can come in, and others can choose to add themselves or not, and then end the episode before someone else starts a new one. This stepping in and out will give breathing spaces and pauses between enactments, and musical changes will then be possible. Not everyone has to play each time, and variety between pace, loudness etc. is easier to create.
- Quick Turnover: in our 90-minute performance, we heard ten stories. For some musicians, their focus had started to dwindle, for others it was the opposite. But it made us think about the speed of the turnover between tellers. For one, the normal solo role of the musician can lead to being ready to jump in very quickly after the launching sentence of “Let’s watch” to begin the enactment for the actors. Yet as in a purely Musical Playback performance, there is room for the musicians to check how to jump best rather than jumping straight away.
- Another point was to leave a bigger gap before contributing with a new musical offer, letting the previous offer establish first. It leaves an openness to choose the best instrument or element to the enactment. This will come with more practice for the team and slowing down the process of stepping in. But what is too long? We also recognise that there was a lot of excitement in the room, both from ourselves and the audience. This could have contributed to the speed of playing and jumping in.
Technical thoughts
- Lighting: should it be different lighting than at a normal performance? More dimmed lights, perhaps even candlelight?
- Amplification: in Sofia every musician had a microphone due to the size of the venue and the number of musicians. In Buckden we had a more intimate space and good acoustics, so we didn’t need amplification, apart from the two keyboards. This, however, made the balance with softer instruments and softer voices trickier. Suggestions:
- Have one mic set up for softer voices or softer offers.
- Choose between electrified and acoustic instruments or finding a good mix.
- Seating arrangement: During our performance, the musicians were sitting in a fairly straight line, either on chairs or on pillows on the floor. Our suggestion would be to make this line more of an arc, to see each other better, and make visual signaling easier. Another possibility would be to move places during the performance, to have different instruments to play with and to have a fresh perspective.
- Eyes: Where do we rest our eyes during enactments? Similar to actors, we should not look straight at the audience, contrary to what we do as musicians in a band. During our performance the Teller and audience were often looked at, engaged with through the eyes. We suggest a gaze at each other as a band, or play with eyes closed, or look at the wall behind the audience, or the floor.
- Soundcheck: After our experience together, we felt that what we had missed was a chance to step out at soundcheck to hear the other musicians. The first time this happened in our case was during the introductory Flares. If this happens during the rehearsal, soundcheck or warmup, it will help to get to know your fellow musicians, it will tell you how loud or quiet to play yourself, to hear the effect of sitting at a different distance (like the audience will), and also to share something to hear back for yourself.
What questions are we left with?
What is the impact of music on an audience? We saw eyes being closed during enactments, tears in various shapes and sizes from both Teller and the audience. Music seemed to be more immediate and corporeal.
What about audience members with sensory differences? Whilst people with a visual impairment might miss having the visual cues of dramatic action in a classic playback performance, they might possibly have a heightened experience during a Musical Playback performance. As for people who have different hearing levels, a Musical Playback performance may be a tricky yet intriguing alternative to our very visual artform, with extra consideration needing to be given to technical setup and levels of playing.
As we have no specific feedback on these matters from this performance, the questions around the impact and sensitivities, and technical needs and improvements for these specific groups of people lie open to be explored.
What other forms would work as musical enactments? We feel that a mix of group and pair forms would work well, e.g. a 2-3-6 mix for 6 musicians. Some can be songs, some set pieces or scenes, and others a soundtrack or soundscape. The pairs and trios give more of a musical coherence than a group enactment. Also, the option of only using voices was found to be very powerful: during the rehearsal we experimented with this form, and the variety of harmonies and counter-harmonies had a very strong impact on all of us.
How could we shift easier from one way of playing to another? The discord from playing in different keys can really work for certain feelings. How to then shift quickly from discord and sound sculpture from everyone, to softer harmonious melody for another feeling in the story?
How can we serve a delicate story with six playing together, without becoming too big in sound and energy?
What is the team’s language, and how can you get it in a 2.5hr rehearsal? Can there be a conductor role amongst the musicians that takes the lead? Can we use hand signals or verbal cues to make changes in how we play? How can you show you are stepping in or out, although you are stationary on the stage, unlike an actor?
During our performance, the Teller’s Musician at one point shouted “Stop!”, after which they could introduce a different kind of music, in this case a hum, which was mentioned in the story and was taken up in harmony by the rest of the team.
Ending Note
A few weeks after our performance, the Musical Playback Team met once more online, to extract our learning, our thoughts, our need and want to experiment more with this specific form of using Playback Theatre. And from this whole process of bringing unfamiliar though experienced musicians together to form a whole new team, we wanted to present our learnings to you. May it inspire you to try some Musical Playback too, wherever you are in the world, experiment, expand, and explore this very exciting and vital role in our ensembles. And tell us about it afterwards so we can learn from you. Let’s listen!
The Buckden Towers ‘24 Musical Playback Team
Keren Banning (Playback Theatre York), Jon Blend (London Playback Theatre), Ivy Favier (Theatre 4 Transformation, Cork), Andrew Ilsley (Full Circle Playback Theatre, Dublin), Steve Nash (Playback Theatre York), Ruth Steinberg (not currently in a playback company), and Lou van Laake (Full Circle Playback Theatre, Dublin)
About the author
Dutch-born Dublin-based Lou van Laake (Mental Health Worker, Singer and Performer) started as a playback actor in 2008. She began leading Full Circle Playback Theatre in 2015, facilitating the company into becoming a cohesive new team, exploring fresh artistic ideas and perspectives. By bringing Full Circle online from March 2020 onwards, Lou saw this tight Dublin-based company expand into a broad Ireland-wide and even international membership. Full Circle is now co-led and works as much as a cooperation as possible with its 18 active members. They rehearse and perform both in-person and online to this day. When Lou doesn’t do playback, she works as a Mental Health Community Worker in Inner City Dublin; sings vintage tunes as a solo artist, in a 3-part harmony Trio or in bands of various sizes wherever she can; and recently became obsessed with Dragon Boat Racing in the Docklands of the river Liffey.
Embodied Storytelling: Learning, Healing, and Connection in Playback Theatre
By Roberta Roberto
Abstract
This article explores the integration of non-verbal communication in Playback Theatre, highlighting how movement and sound create a space for deeper emotional expression and connection. While verbal language offers precision and clarity, non-verbal communication allows for a more intuitive and expansive way of engaging with human experiences. Through personal reflection, the article examines how engaging with embodiment and sensory awareness in Playback Theatre can facilitate a richer understanding of one’s own story and the stories of others. The practice of embodying emotions and experiences through movement and sound helps integrate untapped parts of the self, fostering growth and new perceptions. By embracing the embodied nature of storytelling, both performers and audiences are invited to move beyond words, creating a shared space where stories can unfold, be witnessed, and collectively integrated. This article reflects on the significance of embodiment in Playback Theatre as a means of deepening the connection between individual and collective narratives, creating a space for growth, understanding, and healing.
Introduction
This work is partially drawn from my essay for the Playback Theatre Leadership course I attended in 2024, titled Embodiment and Transcending Language in Playback Theatre (Roberto R., 2024), where I explored the role of the physical body in Playback Theatre, also as a means to transcend language barriers on stage.
In Playback Theatre, I have come to understand that the body is more than just a medium of movement; in my view it acts as a vessel for emotions, a bridge between performers and the audience, and a means of accessing deeper layers of storytelling beyond words. Through my personal experience as a performer, I’ve discovered that by listening to my body and embracing its impulses, I can connect more authentically with the story, the teller, and my fellow actors. This way of connecting with my body helps me stay spontaneous, present, and more in tune with the moment. It opens up a deeper, richer form of expression that lets meaning come through, even without words.
In this article, I share some personal reflections on the role of the body in Playback Theatre, focusing on how it can influence performance and contribute to personal and collective growth on stage. Based on my own experiences, I explore how listening to and responding through my body impacts emotional connection, deepens engagement, and supports learning and healing.
I also touch on a few questions that have emerged for me in this practice, blending insights from both my experience and the literature:
- What role does the body play in Playback Theatre?
- How do I view the body as a resource in performance?
- How do I bring embodiment and physicality into my stage work?
- How can embodiment in Playback Theatre support learning and healing processes?
Listening with the body: a Playback Theatre perspective
The phrase listening with the body often refers to quieting rational thought—the head—and tuning in from the gut. Rational thinking can disrupt deep listening by pulling us away from the present moment, reducing spontaneity, and leading us to follow an internal script rather than truly engaging. Every Playback Theatre practitioner has experienced this challenge.
In Playback Theatre, the teller shares their story with the conductor through words, but the communication goes well beyond that. Non-verbal cues—like gaze, posture, facial expressions, movement, and breathing—along with tone, pauses, and rhythm, all play a significant role in conveying meaning that’s shaped by cultural context. Listening in this context involves more than just hearing the words; it requires sensitivity to these physical and tonal elements, a connection to the teller’s experience, and a genuine curiosity about their world.
Empathetic understanding, as described by Rogers (1975), is a combination of both emotional and cognitive awareness. It involves not just understanding the spoken words, but also interpreting the body language, which may reveal feelings that aren’t directly expressed.
Deep listening in Playback Theatre settings means identifying both the explicit and the underlying messages, ensuring that both are represented authentically and respectfully on stage.
I also find it valuable to recognize the archetypal aspects of stories, especially the unspoken ones. For instance, a mother sharing only the positive aspects of motherhood may, at the same time, be carrying unspoken emotions such as exhaustion, fear, or frustration.
For me, listening in Playback Theatre is very much a bodily process.
As a performer, I attune my entire being—body and mind—to the teller’s expressions. I welcome and resonate with their movements, gestures, facial expressions, voice tones, speech rhythm, breathing patterns, gaze and even their choice of words and concepts. It’s a full-bodied engagement, where listening goes beyond hearing and becomes a deeply felt experience. Veronica Needa properly stated, “To make good Playback Theatre, you need to have big ears” (as cited in Dotti L., 2013), a metaphor for openness and deep connection. Having big ears means perceiving subtle signals through all senses and intuition, listening beyond words to grasp deeper, often unspoken, layers of meaning. Similarly, psychoanalyst Theodor Reik spoke of the third ear, while various spiritual traditions refer to the third eye or inner eye—all pointing to an intuitive mode of perception.
Spontaneous improvisation in Playback Theatre emerges from this deep, empathic, and open listening. While performers remain present and attuned to the teller’s emotions, they are also aware of their role in bringing the story to life on stage (Swallow, 1994). This creative process requires balancing connection with the teller, self-awareness, and attentiveness to underlying tensions or disharmonies in the narrative—elements that serve as cues for authentic and spontaneous performance.
Playing the other and the citizen actor
At the beginning of my Playback Theatre practice, I wondered whether empathic understanding alone was enough to truly represent another person. Over time, I realized that honoring stories and serving both the teller and the community requires more than empathy. For me, this involves right distance, awareness, and an attentive and humble attitude.
By right distance, I mean the ability to listen both to the teller and to one’s own resonances while maintaining a clear distinction between personal experiences and those of the teller. On stage, especially in the protagonist role, this means bringing an energy that aligns with the teller’s without overpowering (or downplaying) it, while allowing space for intuition and different perspectives.
Awareness involves recognizing one’s own limitations in knowledge or experience, particularly in relation to social and cultural differences. Empathic listening and good intentions, while essential, are not enough to bridge social gaps or fully represent complex experiences. Every performer carries biases that can lead to incomplete or oversimplified portrayals, especially when engaging with narratives from different backgrounds.
In my experience, bodily elements can provide some help for me to stay both empathically attuned to the teller and appropriately distanced from the story I bring to the stage. My breath, body, and gaze are key resources. Focusing on my breath reduces distractions, regulates emotions, and maintains balance—sometimes fostering connection, other times preventing over-identification. Before stepping into a role, a deep breath clears my mind, creates space for what is to come, and grounds me in my body. When this attunement is missing, the initial moments on stage feel less fluid, especially in shorter forms.
My body helps me tune into shared frequencies with the teller, recognizing signals through physical sensations—tension, impulses, heart rhythm, or movement—which offer valuable feedback for self-regulation. My gaze also plays a role; keeping it soft yet attentive allows me to stay present with the teller while remaining aware of the space and audience.
In Italian, sentire—to sense—captures a deep perception that blends empathy, intuition, and emotional awareness without fusion. When I am aligned with my breath, body, and sight, I can fully sense the teller’s story.
Acknowledging my personal limitations and biases while maintaining an open, curious stance helps me represent stories with respect. This sometimes means expressing discomfort, hesitation, or vulnerability authentically, bringing the story to life in a meaningful way that honors both myself and the teller.
These reflections connect to broader debates in acting—between seeing the performer as a universal interpreter and acknowledging the limits of representing others. In Playback Theatre, these discussions on representation and authenticity are more relevant than ever.
Some scholars, including Rowe and Barolsky, challenge the idea that empathic understanding, spontaneity, and authenticity alone can adequately honor a teller’s story. They examine the ethical complexities of Playback Theatre and question the limits of empathic listening in social justice contexts. Rowe raises critical questions: What are the limitations of the playback actor? Can we truly represent a teller from an unfamiliar culture? If performances are always shaped by our own cultural lens, is it ethical to portray another? (Rowe, 2005). He warns that the “radical, idiosyncratic, and ineffable difference of the other” risks being erased when strong identification flattens their experience (Rowe, 2007).
Improvisation’s emotional intensity can nullify the psychic distance between performer and character and between teller and actor, increasing the risk of the actor’s emotions overshadowing the teller’s – what I call the performer’s fusion with his or her own emotions and experiences.
Cultural and ideological biases may also lead to clichés or stereotypes, obscuring the socio-political realities behind the story. As Love notes, “Representation is inextricably embedded in the dominant ideology” (Love, 1995).
Research suggests that empathic listening must be paired with an awareness of the broader social and cultural contexts from which stories emerge (Barolsky, 2021). Without this, Playback Theatre risks unintentionally reinforcing stereotypes or failing to capture the deeper meanings of underrepresented communities. This can hinder PT’s goal of inclusivity and, in some cases, perpetuate the very social dynamics it seeks to challenge. “There is a risk that we will eradicate the difference of the other in our performances – well-intentioned empathy becomes oppressive colonization of the other” (Rowe, 2007).
To navigate these challenges, some practitioners advocate for an expanded model of empathic listening—critical empathy—which integrates emotional connection with an understanding of social context and power dynamics. Rowe (2007) and Barolsky (2021) explore strategies for ethically playing the other and addressing social justice in Playback Theatre.
Jonathan Fox (2020) also develops these ideas, emphasizing that playback actors must integrate into the community with humility and self-awareness. He argues that fully understanding a teller’s story requires historical, political, and psychological awareness, alongside a commitment to challenging personal biases and striving for ethical and social progress.
Body movement and physicality on stage
I love a passage from Peltoniemi (1997) describing how performers enter a new relationship between the body and a world that has never been experienced before—and perhaps never will be again. I realize this even more in Playback Theatre rehearsals, where repeating a scene still yields unique experiences when spontaneity is present.
Yet, spontaneity carries risks. Overacting or acting in a disconnected way—where we are not integrated with the story, the teller, other performers, or even ourselves—can lead to impulsive, one-sided performances. This is the opposite risk of simplifying characters or relying on stereotypes.
What is appropriate? What is the right distance between myself and the teller?
These questions cannot be answered in the moment on stage; there is no time or space for rational analysis without losing spontaneity. Instead, playbackers must train, reflect, and remain open to continuous learning. On stage, sometimes the most respectful choice is simply doing less.
Over time, I have realized that my creativity flows most naturally through my body and visual imagination. In Playback Theatre, I feel authentic when I listen through my body and stay connected to it on stage. This often happens when, during the teller’s narration, emotions emerge and form into spontaneous mental images—an intuitive process difficult to describe in words. By tuning into my body and these images, I find an intention to bring to the stage, aligning with the heart of the story. Like a sonar, these signals help me navigate, allowing me to trust direct experience rather than intellectual analysis.
When stepping onto the stage, sometimes I have an idea or an image, sometimes nothing at all. Either way, I never know exactly what will happen. I act from what I feel in my body—seeking movement, form, sound, or words that emerge from my sensations, my connection with the other performers, and the space.
Reflecting on these dynamics, I see movement as a resource in several ways:
- Initiating action when unsure how to begin;
- Bringing abstract or symbolic layers;
- Expressing relationships between characters;
- Avoiding a literal retelling of the teller’s narration;
- Representing stories vastly different from our own experiences;
- Engaging with deep, emotional stories;
- Performing in multilingual contexts;
- Conveying elements of the story that were unclear or unspoken.
Movement can involve one or more actors, with or without physical interaction, and can incorporate costumes or props.
From my Playback Theatre experience, I identify three key purposes of movement:
- Abstract/Symbolic – Embodying emotions or states of mind at a non-literal level;
- Role Definition – Distinguishing or defining a character;
- Relationship Development – Creating dynamics between actors, characters, or objects.
The characteristics of movement vary depending on the context, but key aspects in Playback Theatre include:
- Quality/flow – Fluidity versus irregularity;
- Strength/weight – Lightness versus force;
- Tension – Level of muscle engagement;
- Tempo – Speed of movement;
- Rhythm – Alternation of tempos, pauses, and transitions;
- Form – Shapes created in space;
- Body parts – Whole-body involvement or isolated movements;
- Facial expressiveness – The role of the face in communication.
Spatial awareness is also crucial—movements must be visible to both the teller and the audience.
Playback Theatre actors do not need to master complex choreography; rather, they must create space for their own bodies, listen to them, and trust their impulses.
However, training exercises are invaluable for exploring movement and body expression. How can we embody sadness or exhaustion without resorting to cliché facial expressions? Can we play with body weight or posture? How do we let movement support words authentically, rather than merely illustrating them?
It’s important to emphasize that physical expression does not require perfect fitness or coordinated movement. Even minimal gestures—one hand, an arm, or shifting weight while seated—can be deeply expressive. Movement allows for multilayered interpretation, offering the teller a fresh perspective on their experience.
Through embodiment, Playback Theatre performers evoke emotions beyond the literal, weaving archetypal, social, and transpersonal elements into the storytelling.
Words, too, play a delicate role. At times, they feel like wings, carrying meaning in unexpected ways. I’ve experienced moments where a playbacker’s words felt like a form of artistry—distilled, woven, or painted into the scene. Yet, at other times, words create barriers, restricting spontaneity or reducing a story to its surface elements. Overly literal dialogue risks re-narrating rather than transforming the story, or worse, projecting the performer’s interpretation rather than honoring the teller’s experience.
For this reason, I prefer to use words carefully. If I overthink them, I disconnect from my body and spontaneity.
I remember that during a workshop on body expression, a friend shared that she tends to get in her head when she feels responsible for bringing essential story elements to the stage. When this happens, she loses authenticity. Together, we explored how to shift attention back to the body—feeling how intention resonates physically, so that the body, rather than the intellect, carries the words into authentic expression.
Embodiment and Playback Theatre beyond art and learning
Although Playback Theatre is not defined as therapy, it offers therapeutic benefits for both participants and performers. Performances can foster insight, emotional release, and renewal. As Salas (1993) states, “When an individual’s experiences are reflected in aesthetic form, that experience is given new meaning, and through that meaning, a sense of reassurance – part of the healing process”.
Playback Theatre helps people process emotions, self-regulate, and soothe the nervous system. Reenacting real-life stories can activate complex processes, leading to:
- Connection with emotions and past experiences;
- New perspectives and insights;
- Empathy and deeper understanding;
- Collective healing, transcending individual experiences;
- Catharsis or integration, at times.
These effects can be observed through participants’ physical expressions (posture, facial cues, gaze), shifts in narrative structure, and post-performance feedback.
In this context, I use embodiment to describe how an experience becomes tangible, sensed, and expressed through bodily movement. This differs from just physicality. Embodiment in Playback Theatre involves both performers’ connection with their own bodies—moving beyond intellect into embodied empathy—and their physical enactments on stage. We train continuously in both.
Psychology and neuroscience highlight embodiment as a bridge between body and mind, particularly in self-awareness and trauma recovery. Siegel (2012) defines it as integrating bodily awareness with emotions and thoughts, essential for self-awareness and regulation. Van der Kolk (2014) emphasizes the body’s role in storing trauma, explaining that reconnecting with bodily sensations is key to healing. Ogden (2006) describes embodiment as the integration of physical sensations, movements, and posture with emotional and mental states, shaping how we process experiences and build resilience.
Experiential techniques – such as psychodrama, drama therapy and guided imagery – engage the brain in ways that simulate real-life emotional experiences, facilitating psychological understanding and healing. These approaches leverage mechanisms such as embodied simulation, in which the mirror neuron system is activated during the observation or enactment of emotional content, mirroring authentic experience (Rizzolatti and Craighero, 2004). Through surplus reality – the dramatisation of imagined or unexpressed scenarios – clients access and rework emotionally significant material in a symbolic but neurologically salient manner (Moreno, 1953; Addis et al., 2007). Concretisation further enhances this process by transforming internal states into external, observable forms, in line with neural findings on the benefits of emotional labelling and reappraisal in reducing limbic activation and enhancing normative control (Lieberman et al., 2007). Taken together, these mechanisms underline how vividly enacted therapeutic experiences engage neural systems central to emotion, memory and empathy to promote integrative emotional processing.
The Teller and the Audience
During a performance, everyone experiences emotions through the body—how they circulate, manifest externally, and sometimes trigger unexpected physical reactions. Our bodies sense, emit, and receive signals while also containing complex internal processes.
The learning and healing effects of embodying stories apply to both the audience and the teller, though for the teller, the experience is often deeper and more immersive. When actors are fully present in their bodies, the teller can directly perceive the tension, lightness, or emotions of their own story, emerging spontaneously without the need for words.
The actors’ embodied performances activate the audience’s mirror neurons, allowing them to experience the emotions portrayed on stage (Rizzolatti and Sinigaglia, 2008; Scorolli, 2019). This mirroring effect fosters empathy, solidarity, and transformation within the narrative. Performers’ physical expression resonates with the audience, creating a shared emotional landscape and enhancing collective healing. When deep listening and connection are established, a collective consciousness emerges among the audience, actors, and conductor, from which shared stories unfold.
For the teller, the emotional connection to their story allows for intense experiences where insight and integration of difficult or unresolved situations can occur. Traumatic experiences often disrupt the natural mind-body connection, leading individuals to dissociate from embodied experiences or emotions. Playback Theatre encourages tellers to stay connected to their bodies rather than retreating into the mind, facilitating re-embodiment in a supportive context. This helps individuals process emotions in a safe and structured way. Works such as Salas (2020) and Interplay (2013) explore the enactment of trauma in Playback Theatre.
As both a performer and an audience member, my experience is shaped by enthusiasm and critical awareness. I believe in Playback Theatre’s power but have learned that to fully engage with a performance, I need to enter with openness, curiosity, and presence. Before stepping into the space, I take a moment to let go of thoughts, release tension, and tune into my breath and body, allowing myself to be fully available to the experience.
The Performers
In my experience, Playback Theatre’s healing potential for performers unfolds subtly, with unexpected moments of insight emerging naturally rather than being intentionally pursued.
As a performer, embodiment happens both in listening and in playing back. Unlike scripted theatre, Playback Theatre involves spontaneous, co-created transformation. During listening, bodily engagement occurs through sensory perception, empathetic connection, and emotional resonance with the story. While performing, the body is involved in improvisation, interaction with fellow actors, and connection with the teller and audience. Staying attuned to these elements helps maintain presence and the right balance between self and character.
Several elements contribute to Playback Theatre’s healing effects for performers:
- Empathic awareness through the body, fostering self-connection and congruence;
- Somatic awareness, offering insight into mental and emotional states while helping to process and release stored tension;
- Being rooted in the present, allowing for exploration of new roles and experiences in the moment;
- Overcoming mental defenses, enabling safe engagement with challenging emotions;
- Experiencing rapid perception and adaptability, welcoming the unknown and integrating unresolved aspects of the self;
- Embodied simulation, observing or enacting actions that can activate neural circuits similar to those used in actual experiences, where the brain responds to vividly enacted experiences as if they were real.
I have direct experience about it. When I first began Playback Theatre training, I wasn’t connected to my body—I controlled it, withheld expression, and used it as a shield, shaped by personal history, social conditioning, and past trauma. With time, I learned to listen to it, allowing embodiment to become a pathway to deeper expression.
The healing effects of embodiment in Playback Theatre vary depending on the setting. During performances, performers may experience flow, resonance, and moments of insight, but their primary role is to serve the teller and community.
My early fear was encountering unresolved personal issues on stage and becoming overwhelmed by them. Over time, I learned to trust the process—through training, self-awareness, and the support of fellow performers, music, and the conductor. Authenticity is key. I once saw an actor step off stage mid-performance because they were too emotionally involved in a story. They acknowledged it openly and respectfully, making the space more human rather than breaking the atmosphere.
In workshops, the experience can be closer to therapy. With a facilitator’s guidance, participants explore specific themes in a safe and intensive setting. Here, embodiment may involve working through unprocessed emotions or aspects of the self.
Training within a company is an intermediate space—intimate and safe, yet also focused on technical skill-building. While we practice deep listening, we also refine our craft, balancing personal exploration with the demands of performance.
Conclusions
In good Playback Theatre, both verbal and non-verbal communication come together on stage to create a balanced language for representing human experience.
While verbal language has its place in offering precision, clarity, and the power to define, non-verbal communication—through sound and movement—opens a broader, more intuitive space. This integration of verbal and non-verbal elements allows the teller, the performers and the audience to connect beyond the confines of words, offering a more fluid and expansive way to communicate. Movement and sound create a world where meaning can unfold freely, and the teller is invited to explore their own emotions and experiences in a more embodied way.
Through my journey in Playback Theatre, I’ve come to understand the importance of connecting with my body and its sensations. I’ve learned to follow its movements and express myself through them, tapping into deeper layers of my own story. This process has allowed me to integrate parts of myself I hadn’t fully acknowledged before. I learned to follow the bodily experience of the moment, expand my sensory field, allow new information to enter my nervous system. I experience renewed perception, to feel, perceive and act again. The emotions, memories and feelings brought into my body through embodiment training allow me to continue to integrate my story and meet new stories.
On stage, by listening to and following my body’s sensations and movements, I’ve unlocked a way of connecting with stories that transcends mere intellectual understanding, through which emotions, memories, and experiences can be processed, expressed, and understood, creating a bridge between personal and collective narratives.
Playback Theatre has provided me with the opportunity to connect with and honor the stories of others. It has shown me how to weave these stories with my own, creating a shared space where we can encounter, explore, and grow together—even beyond words.
References
Abraham A., 2018, The Neuroscience of Creativity
Addis, D. R., Wong, A. T., and Schacter, D. L. , 2007, Remembering the past and imagining the future: Common and distinct neural substrates during event construction and elaboration, Neuropsychologia, 45(7), //doi.org/10.1016/j.neuropsychologia.2006.10.016
Barolsky K., 2021, Playback Theatre, social justice and empathy: A diffractive review, Applied Theatre Research, Volume 9 Number 2, DOI: 10.1386/atr_00052_1
Bhangale A. M., 2021, Playback Theatre and the Psyche of Performing Actors: A Phenomenological Study, BS Thesis
Dotti L., 2013, La forma della cura. Tecniche Socio e psicodrammatiche nella formazione degli operatori educativi e della cura, FrancoAngeli
Fox J., 1994, Acts of Service, Tusitala Publishing
Fox J., 2019, Playback Theatre core values (accessed as part of the Leadership Course Lessons)
Fox J., 2020, Citizen actor (accessed as part of the Leadership Course Lessons)
Interplay, 2013, Special Issue on Playback and Trauma, Vol XVIII No. 2, Dec 2013
Lieberman, M. D., et al., 2007, Putting feelings into words: Affect labeling disrupts amygdala activity in response to affective stimuli, Psychological Science, 18(5), 421–428. //doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-9280.2007.01916.x
Love, L. (1995). Resisting the Organic. Acting (Re) Considered. Zarrilla, P. (Ed). London New York: Routledge. (as cited in Rowe, 2005)
Moreno J. L., 1978, Who shall survive? Foundations of sociometry, group psychotherapy and sociodrama, Beacon House Inc.
Ogden, P. and Fischer J., 2016, Psicologia Sensomotoria. Interventi per il trauma e l’attaccamento.
Ogden, P. 2006, Trauma and the Body: A Sensorimotor Approach to Psychotherapy
Peltoniemi S., 1997, Listening with the Body on the Stage of Playback Theatre, Centre for Playback Theatre
Rizzolatti, G. and Craighero, L., 2004, The Mirror-Neuron System, Annual Review of Neuroscience, 27, 169–192. //doi.org/10.1146/annurev.neuro.27.070203.144230
Rizzolatti G. and Sinigaglia C., 2008, Mirrors in the brain : How our minds share actions and emotions, Oxford University Press, 2008. – ISBN 978-0-19-921798-4
Roberto R., 2024, Embodiment and Transcending Language in Playback Theatre, Center for Playback Theatre
Rogers C. R., 1975, Empathic: an unappreciated way of being, The Counseling Psychologist, 5(2), 2–10
Rowe N., 2005, Playing the Other: the ethical limitations of playback performing, Centre for Playback Theatre
Salas J., 1993, Improvising Real Life: Personal Story in Playback Theatre. Dubuque, Iowa: Kendall/HuntPublishing Company
Salas J., 2006, Doing Playback Theatre in a Foreign Language: Learning Language, Learning Culture, Learning Identity, Centre for Playback Theatre
Salas J., 2020, Enacting testimony: trauma stories in playback theatre in Chesner, A., & lykou, S. (Eds.). (2020). Trauma in the Creative and Embodied Therapies: When Words are Not Enough (1st ed.). Routledge. //doi.org/10.4324/9781351066266
Scorolli C., 2019, Re-enacting the Bodily Self on Stage: Embodied Cognition Meets Psychoanalysis, Front Psychol. 2019 Apr 5;10:492. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2019.00492. PMID: 31024371; PMCID: PMC6460994
Spolin V., 1963, Improvisation for the Theater. A Handbook of Teaching and Directing Techniques, Northwestern UP
Swallow J., 1994, Health and healing for the playback actor, Centre for Playback Theatre
Siegel, D. (2015), The developing mind. Second edition.
van der Kolk, B. (2015), The body keeps the score. Mind, brain and body in the transformation of trauma, Penguin Random House
Wright, P. R. (2003). The empirical and ephemeral: learning, healing and building community through playback theatre. Interplay, 13(3), 10–11.
Disclaimer
Author has used AI (DeepL and ChatGpt) to translate and rephrase some parts of the article.
About the author
Roberta is a performer and conductor of Playback Theatre, and active in other fields of artistic expression, particularly in photography. She works as a researcher and project manager in renewable energy, focusing on sustainable energy production and consumption models. A Leadership Graduate from the Centre for Playback Theatre, USA, and an Expressive-Transformative Counsellor, Roberta uses creative and improvisational methodologies to foster creative thinking and decision-making. She performs with LIVE! and DireAzioni companies and serves on the Board of the International Playback Theatre Network (IPTN). Roberta’s current projects in Playback Theatre include developing a program to foster community engagement and inclusive dialogue around climate and environmental change, as well as exploring themes of identity and inclusion.
Playback Theatre as an Approach for Cultivating Essential Skills for Modern Urban Living
By Konstantin Anikin
Abstract
In this article, I aim to explore how Playback Theatre interacts with different facets of urban life, the skills it helps participants develop, and the value it offers to both audiences and actors alike. These skills become valuable not only within the theatre itself but also extend into work and everyday life beyond it.
As it happens, I am myself a resident of a large city, having spent my entire life amidst the dynamic pace and established infrastructure at the core of what is often called the cultural and economic center, as opposed to the outskirts, rural areas, or small towns. In those places, little tends to happen; major events take place elsewhere, and the level of economic activity is generally lower. This may reflect some of the structural traits of Russia as a centralized state, where the periphery revolves around Moscow, and on a regional level, around the main cities. However, this trend – where cities grow and rural areas shrink – is common in most countries. Everywhere, major cultural and economic hubs expand, absorbing their surroundings like cosmic bodies that attract smaller objects, gradually merging to form something even more massive.
So, let us focus on Playback Theatre specifically within the urban environment. Not because it somehow outperforms other forms of existence, but because, personally, city life is closer and more understandable to me – it’s easier to write about what you’re familiar with, and I am a city person.
I’ll focus on the segment of the audience I encounter most frequently, those with whom I interact and to whom I myself belong. I would call them urban professionals, working primarily in offices or from home. So, I’ll be speaking about this group.
And what do such people actually do in the city? Of course, everything, but mostly, they are office workers in companies of various sizes, employees in government structures, freelancers. The service sector is highly developed here, with many different services: delivery, salons, cafes, and restaurants. The city has many scientific centers, universities and theaters.
I became curious about what place Playback Theatre might occupy within this urban diversity. What needs does it fulfill? Why is it necessary for both audiences and performers, and what skills does it help develop – the very ones that later seep into everyday life, making work and daily routines more vibrant and meaningful.
The Playbackers
The first group of people to consider is the playbackers themselves. Why do they come to this, go through training, and perform? I don’t claim to conduct extensive research but rather to share observations made through my practice, self-reflection, and contemplations.
The first time I encountered Playback Theatre directly was at a business networking event held in one of the city cafés. People from various fields were meeting each other, communicating, and participating in workshops – one of which was a performance by the only playback team in the city at the time. That period in my life was very difficult: my wife was in the terminal stage of cancer and dying, and I was going through a complete reassessment of my life’s foundations, searching for sources of support. At that moment, playback felt like a life-saving breath of fresh air, and I intuitively sensed that yes – this is exactly what I need right now. I immediately inquired about the nearest workshop to sign up for training.
Looking back, I can see how that single encounter opened up a path not just of personal healing, but of connection with a wider world of practices that support inner growth and expression.
What troubles, and what nourishes the urban resident? For many, work occupies the largest portion of their time, providing income, and their days are filled with this cycle.
And here is where passions come to the rescue – those activities that fill life with creative energy, authenticity, meaning, and help people break free from the daily routine. Speaking about myself, Playback Theatre was also a form of group therapy and a way to cope with difficult life circumstances.
Here, I would like to structure and highlight the primary motives that I have revealed in Playback Theatre.
- Doing something with profound meaning and significance for others. Unlike everyday tasks that simply sustain daily life, here emerges the opportunity to create something valuable and important.
- Engaging in creativity that brings joy, offering a sense of inner freedom.
- Encountering something alive and genuine, in contrast to routine urban life, where one often has to pretend and wear masks.
- Reconnecting with one’s inner child, simply enjoying the moment. For a while, it allows one to stop being the adult burdened with duties, responsibilities, family, and mortgages.
- Being part of a group of people who accept you as you are, where you can communicate openly and share stories.
- Satisfying the need for attention, applause, and recognition, which are often missing in the grayness of daily life.
- Standing out from others, stepping out of the gray mass, and demonstrating your uniqueness, which can even draw positive attention to you in the workplace.
- Fulfilling a childhood dream of being on stage. We probably watched our favorite movies as children and imagined ourselves in the place of our favorite characters.
This is a list of needs that I recognized in myself and heard from other playback practitioners. Of course, this list is not exhaustive, and each person has their own unique internal drivers.
For many, this is more than enough reason to dedicate themselves to this art form. But these are the emotional, irrational sides of the experience.
People are often irrational, and psychological needs, instincts, and unconscious patterns frequently guide our actions. Sometimes, our rational mind also seeks support, explanation, and goal-setting. (Rybakov, M. & Paivina, O., 2021)
For a mind inclined toward logic and structure, Playback Theatre offers benefits as well. I’ll try to outline the soft skills that develop through Playback Theatre, turning it into a kind of skills training for urban dwellers, whether they’re company employees or freelancers.
When I began my practice in Playback Theatre, I was working as a corporate business trainer in a large company, focusing on teaching employees various applied and soft skills. I noticed that the abilities we continuously developed during the workshops – authentic presence in front of an audience, spontaneity, empathy, and storytelling – were also making me more professional in my main field of work.
What I did every day, combined with the opportunity to share my new passion with colleagues, attracted attention and helped me build social capital within the company. Moreover, some elements from the playback workshops – warm-ups, energizers, working with imagination and spontaneity, and audience engagement — quickly became part of my training practice and turned into a valuable addition to my business trainings. This inspired me to love Playback Theatre even more.
Professional Soft Skills in Urban Life
It is quite common for playback practitioners to point to various professional gains achieved through PT. (Shahaf Barzilay, R., & Shoshan, N. 2015).
These are the skills I felt I was developing, and they became my contribution to my professional activity as a corporate business trainer.
- The ability to perform in front of an audience while staying natural and authentic. The capacity to stay composed in a public speaking situation or meeting, responding flexibly and spontaneously.
- The skill of listening, and listening with empathy: seeing nuances in another’s story, understanding its essence, seeing the person, and connecting to their experience through acceptance.
- Storytelling as the skill of telling stories, revealing their core meaning, and engaging people by conveying the idea through the narrative itself.
- The skill of understanding oneself and one’s reactions, helping one to become more aware of their own desires.
- The ability to collaborate and work in a team, to listen to others, support them, understanding that everyone is essential to the common goal, and finding meaning in that.
- The capacity to make decisions and function in conditions of uncertainty.
- Sensitivity to the emotional atmosphere and energy level within a group.
- The ability to find unconventional solutions – exercising imagination.
- The skill of engaging an audience and facilitating discussions.
This list, of course, could be expanded, and perhaps over time it will grow.
I’ll attempt to delve into each of these skills in more detail, exploring how and why each need is met and each skill is cultivated.
This set of skills enhanced everything I did as a business trainer and facilitator of corporate sessions, as they were directly related to what I did every day while working in a corporation. But there was another aspect that was especially new for me – the perception of my public presentations – whether in a training or a corporate session – as an improvisational performance. This allowed me to feel light, free, and open.
The ability to speak in front of an audience
For any office worker, city life is filled with meetings and gatherings. Constant discussions, listening to others, persuading, presenting ideas, making presentations and reports, and gathering suggestions – all require the skill of public presence. And it’s not just about showing up but about being persuasive, inspiring, clear, and engaging. In Playback Theatre, public speaking skills develop at a deeper, more authentic level. Other training programs may teach the mask – how to move, use one’s voice, where to look. While this can be effective, without real emotion or authentic presence, it can feel superficial. Playback Theatre, however, provides the opportunity to cultivate the core quality of public speaking – authenticity: being present, real, and emotionally engaged with the audience. This approach removes the need for facades, allowing one to remain genuine, which makes for a more impactful performance.
The skill of listening and empathic understanding
Playback Theatre is an ideal setting to develop this skill. Every story here is listened to with immersion, its meanings discovered, and feelings are evoked in response. This shared sensory experience fosters an understanding of others. The ability to build rapport with others is an invaluable soft skill. Communication, creating rapport, negotiation, sales, consultations, teaching – all these areas rely on this skill, and Playback Theatre helps hone it.
Storytelling
Life is woven with stories, and the best way to convey an idea is often through storytelling. By playing, listening, sharing, and analyzing stories, playback actors sharpen their storytelling craft. This skill becomes integral to other activities: conveying information through a narrative becomes second nature – a result of the practice acquired in Playback Theatre.
Understanding one’s own desires
This is an important skill, especially in the city, where life is a constant stream of events and tasks. How can one find motivation, or know what they truly want? In the ever-rushing world, goals and benchmarks are set externally. Without awareness of what personally suits you, and the ability to maintain focus on it, success is unlikely. In Playback Theatre, we work with our responses and energy: what brings genuine interest on stage, what captures attention, and what reduces enthusiasm. This allows one to focus their actions, channeling energy into what truly matters.
Teamwork and collaboration
Major achievements aren’t possible alone. Cities are places where big projects happen constantly, and teamwork is essential. Those who can harmoniously work in a team achieve better results. In Playback Theatre, this becomes a natural part of the process: we respond to each other’s impulses, support and develop each other’s ideas, creating a collective performance tapestry. This teaches a collaborative yes-and interaction style that easily translates into other areas of life.
Operating and making decisions in uncertain conditions
Decision-making itself requires various skills: gathering and analyzing information, drawing conclusions. But here, it’s about cultivating the psychological foundation for decision-making – the readiness to make decisions at all. On stage, in the context of improvisation, uncertainty becomes a familiar environment. This is a kind of training for existing in uncertainty, constantly deciding how to act next with confidence. It reduces the anxiety and paralysis a beginner might feel. It fosters the courage to take risks, venture into the unknown, trusting the process – something that manifests both on stage and in life. Skills perfected in the narrow context of Playback Theatre seamlessly weave into other spheres and activities.
Sensing group dynamics and energy
Developing this level of awareness is a skill particularly honed in the role of a conductor. Here, one refines the ability to observe and feel what’s happening within the group, among actors and audience members, and the energy they bring. Using psychological terminology, one learns to feel the field. This is a valuable diagnostic skill, allowing one to perceive the current state of any team: motivation levels, readiness to pursue a new goal or project. Recognizing relevant themes, ideas, and group motivations is an important skill for anyone working with teams or groups.
Training imagination
Finding ideas, discovering them at the right time, and activating one’s imagination are constantly practiced in Playback Theatre. On stage, one must quickly live in this as if world of suggested circumstances. For creative professionals, it’s a powerful way to train imagination as a primary tool.
Engaging with an audience and leading discussions
This is the skill of facilitation – managing group communication processes. Situations with multiple participants require not only leading a discussion, but also keeping it productive and balanced. These are distinct skills developed in the conductor’s role, which then carry over to business meetings, group discussions, and teamwork.
Psychological Needs Brought About by Life in a Large City
Doing something with deep meaning
This is a fundamental need rooted in the depths of the psyche, linked to the search for the meaning of life and the fear of fading into obscurity. People wish to do something valuable that can outlast them, something that transcends the mundane. These thoughts occasionally cross everyone’s mind. Playback Theatre provides a platform where this is possible. The urban environment, despite its fast pace and abundance of events, can often descend into routine: each day resembles the next, the work month after month remains the same, money is earned and quickly spent, and the city around offers endless temptations. This raises the question – what’s the point of it all? The feeling of a lack of significant change, this eternal sameness, can lead to depression, which, unfortunately, is not uncommon.
But Playback Theatre serves as a social space that leaves a light behind. The faces of the audience, moved by what they experience, become the best remedy for routine and gloom for actors. This is the fulfillment of a social mission – to give an emotional response, to contribute to making society a bit better.
As Anastasia Vorobyeva (Vorobyeva, A, 2023) said: “A little moment is huge in proportions of impact.”, “Playback Theatre can bring a transformation into the communities. Changes always start small. Like an atom, it’s one of the smallest things, yet containing enormous power. The power of Playback Theatre is in these moments. Playback atoms.”
Working in a corporation for many years, I felt as though I were caught in a kind of samsara wheel – everything kept going in circles. Each year resembled the last: the year would begin with new goals, and end with reviewing results and setting new goals again. What came before lost all meaning, and the cycle would repeat itself. At some point, I began to feel a complete absence of meaning.
Playback Theatre felt entirely different – I felt that I was leaving somethingbehind in the hearts of the storytellers and the audience. And that gave me a sense of resource, meaning, and a place of strength beyond the wheel of Samsara.
Engaging in creativity and avoiding boredom
This is another safeguard against routine. Within each person lies a creative spark, a childlike, spontaneous energy often suppressed by daily responsibilities and work obligations. In creativity, there is a sense of freedom: people find a space where there are no limits to imagination, where they’re not confined by habits and responsibilities. Creativity restores color to life and removes its blandness.
Playback performance and the act of playing itself allow me to feel alive and multifaceted. Immersing myself in the storyteller’s narratives and emotions brings color to my own life, giving it different shades. One could even say that on stage, I live out fragments of other people’s lives. And this is something entirely different – something that creates balance with everyday life and the routine of work.
A connection with something alive and real
The city has its own rhythm; around us are countless people, contacts, tasks. Everything is fleeting, quickly replaced, and often artificial. Much of communication is an attempt to sell, buy, or attract attention. There’s little space for genuinely alive connections, where people can meet without masks, be themselves, and still feel accepted and supported. Playback Theatre becomes such a place. And it’s not just about performances: a playback group, rehearsing together, shares personal stories, listens to others’ stories, and does this week after week, month after month, year after year. This is a unique space of trust and sincerity that is hard to find elsewhere in the big city.
“The depth of this impact depends largely on the phenomenon of emergence in a Playback show. Stories emerge in the moment, enabled by a purposefully and expertly created atmosphere of connection, inclusiveness, trust, respect, and the shared willingness to step into the unknown—performers and audience members alike.” (Fox, J., & Salas, J., 2021).
At the company where I worked, it was normal to keep personal and work life separate. Personal things were only mentioned briefly during coffee breaks. At work, you were expected to be serious and get your tasks done, no matter how you felt or what was going on in your life. You could share something personal as a bit of small talk – which no one really cared about – but it was just something to say before moving on to the real business.
Playback Theatre, on the other hand, became a place where I was truly listened to and where people genuinely tried to understand me. And I, in turn, made a real effort to understand others and to grasp the meaning of their human stories. That helped to fill the gap – the lack of connection with something real, with authentic feeling and meaning.
Simply reconnecting with one’s inner child
In this childlike part lies the source of life’s energy and joy. It’s essential to maintain a balance: on one side, the adult self, responsible for decisions, tasks, and practicality; on the other, the child who wants to simply enjoy, play, and remain carefree. To prevent this childlike side from generating infantilism and interfering with adult life, it also needs nourishment and space for self-expression. Playback Theatre creates this space: actors, like children, enjoy and play, and this forms the basis of the entire practice.
“One of the paving stones of the path to whole-self artistic expression is playfulness. It’s a paradox that in our work, play is integral, the doorway to the profound.” (Fox, J., & Salas, J., 2021).
When I was a child, being silly or impractical wasn’t accepted in my family – it was even made fun of. Doing something just for fun felt wrong. Even rest had to be useful, like helping my grandpa weed the garden. There was no time for play. That’s how I grew up.
When I started doing Playback Theatre, I was a single dad with two kids, a mortgage, a job, and lots of worries. Sometimes I just wanted to give up and escape somewhere – even if I had no time, no money, and too much left to do.
Playback helped me a lot. Not just the performances, but the weekly rehearsals with our group Lyudi kak Lyudi. We played, joked, acted out different roles, and laughed together. It was the one time each week when I didn’t have to be a serious, responsible adult – I could just be playful and free, like a child. And when you have a place to feel like a kid again, it becomes easier to be a grown-up the rest of the time.
Being part of a group where you are accepted
Not every workplace can boast an atmosphere of acceptance. Many times, we’re expected to complete tasks, adhere to standards, and achieve results. Personal weaknesses, limitations, and genuine feelings rarely interest anyone. This imbalance creates a desire to find a space where this is possible. A playback group is not just a team or work collective. Here, through the constant sharing of personal stories, empathic responses, and genuine reactions, a space of trust and acceptance is created, which is in itself a valuable and rare find.
It is related to, or has a similar effect as, group psychotherapy.
“The therapeutic effect is significant – not only for the teller, but also for the playing participants who encounter the story and its related themes. This process breaks down the division between the self and the other. “Playing” another’s story creates a direct encounter among group members, which accelerates the group process and builds deep connections among group members” (Raz, N., Keisari, S. & Kowalski, R., 2019)
For many years, I studied Gestalt therapy. That kind of training also includes spending many hours as a client in therapeutic groups. In those groups, when you meet regularly with the same people over many years, a special atmosphere is created – one of trust and support. You get to know the people well, hear many of their life stories and emotions, and share your own. You receive responses, support, and feedback. This kind of environment is really important for personal growth and development.
I noticed a similar effect in our playback group. We meet regularly and share our own personal stories with each other – and we play them back. We learn to listen and understand one another. We know a lot about each other – our stories, our sadness and joy. It’s a space where you can share difficult feelings, feel some relief, and experience a kind of therapeutic effect. In this way, it’s very similar to a therapy group, and in many ways, it can even take its place.
The desire to be in the spotlight
A playback performance is a special moment. I’ve noticed that I’m not only giving my feelings and emotions through the acting, but I’m also receiving something in return – the attention, the looks, the reactions, and emotions of the audience. This makes me feel seen, allows me to feel recognized, and gives me a sense of appreciation in the form of applause.
Standing out, not being part of the “gray mass”
Working in a corporation – especially in my field of learning and development – it’s very important for me to know how to hold people’s attention and keep them interested in me personally, and through that, in the training topics or projects I’m involved in. Playback Theatre helps me a lot with this. No one else in my work environment does anything like it, so it seems very original. I always have something to share and something that surprises my colleagues. It sparks curiosity and the question: ‘How do you do that?’
Fulfilling a childhood dream of being on stage
At the beginning of a career path, and even later, many face a dilemma: pursue a stable life or chase a dream from childhood. Ideally, these paths align, but often they don’t.
As a child, I used to play The Three Musketeers with my friends, inspired by Dumas’s novel. During my student years, I actively took part in various comedy performances on stage. Those who studied in theater schools, though, seemed like unreachable gods to me. But all of these activities were, of course, considered not serious in my family, so I never allowed myself to fully commit to them. Still, that childhood passion eventually found its way into Playback Theatre. It allowed me to realize something I had long unconsciously wanted.
Playback Theatre Audiences in a Large City
Who are the audiences of Playback Theatre in a large city? In a metropolis where something happens every day, with an endless array of choices – plays, concerts, exhibitions, psychological workshops, master classes, festivals – everyone competes for your attention. Among this diversity, it’s not easy to stand out and attract people. So why do people choose Playback Theatre specifically?
Playback Theatre audiences are far from passive observers. In the rapid, mechanical pace of city life, they come here in search of something real, something alive. Playback Theatre offers them a chance to encounter authenticity – something increasingly rare in the everyday city experience.
For many urban dwellers accustomed to surface-level interactions, playback becomes a space where there’s no need to pretend. It’s a place where you can be yourself, where your story will be accepted, no matter what it is.
At the heart of Playback Theatre is the rich complexity of real lives, along with the conviction that as social beings we long to know and learn from each other’s life experiences. (Fox, J., & Salas, J., 2021).
Sometimes, people are drawn to playback by the relevance of a theme, a chance to speak about what’s currently on their minds, what’s troubling them, and needs release. This creates a sense of deep connection, something rare in the rush of urban life.
And then, there is the simple desire to observe others, to listen, to hear what others are talking about, what they’re thinking, what concerns them. There is a need in this too – to know that you’re not alone, to compare your experiences, to look at your life through others’ stories, to feel part of something shared. It brings a sense of normalcy, relief, and sometimes confidence that you and your story have value and meaning.
In an urban environment, Playback Theatre becomes not only a creative platform but also a medium for profound personal growth. It helps bridge the rational and the emotional, developing in participants the skills necessary to navigate uncertainty while meeting fundamental psychological needs. This is more than just an art form – it is a space for genuine communication, mutual acceptance, and authentic self-expression, something often lacking in big-city life. Playback Theatre becomes that rare place where one can pause and feel that life is filled with meaning and energy, reminding everyone of the importance of remaining true to oneself in the modern world.
References
Fox, J., & Salas, J. (2021). Personal Stories in Public Spaces: Essays on Playback Theatre by Its Founders. Tusitala Publishing. Kindle Edition.
Raz, N., Keisari, S. & Kowalski, R. (2019) Playback Theatre on the Couch. The Therapeutic Sides of Playback Theatre and Intervention Tools Through Short Forms. International Playback Theatre Network. Retrieved from playbacktheatrenetwork.org
Рыбаков, М. Ю., & Пайвина, О. С. (2021). Развитие живой компании. Практикум по организационной терапии в гештальт-подходе. Издательство Михаила Рыбакова. [Rybakov, M & Paivina, O (2021) Development of a Living Company: A Practicum in Organizational Therapy Using the Gestalt Approach]
Shahaf Barzilay, R., & Shoshan, N. (2015). Building a playback theatre group at the Open University of Israel (OUI). IPTN Journal, July 2015.
Vorobyeva, A. (2023). Playback Theatre Around the Globe.
About the author
Konstantin Anikin is a Playback Theatre practitioner based in Yekaterinburg, Russia. He is a graduate of the Playback Theatre Leadership Course at the Centre for Playback Theatre and currently works as a trainer at the Russian-speaking School of Playback Theatre.
He is the co-founder and artistic director of the Playback Theatre company Lyudi kak Lyudi in Yekaterinburg and is also a performer with the international online playback company Red Thread Playback Theatre. In addition to his work in applied theatre, Konstantin acts in a classical amateur theatre in his hometown.
Professionally, Konstantin is an expert in corporate learning and development, working across multicultural and international environments. He occasionally works as an organizational consultant, applying a Gestalt approach to support teams and leaders.
Ukraine Feature
Uzhhorod voices
By Nataliia Shevchenko, Ganna Derevyanko, Svitlana Maslova, Olena Bogomolova, Diana Vyshneva, Anna Kryuchkova, Anastasiia Karandashova
My name is Nataliia, and this is my story
I stand in front of the sink at the petrol station and get angry that there is no soap and I can’t wash my hands well. This petrol station is our place of emotional sharing on the way to Uzhhorod after performances at the Mayachky children’s camp. We, the Playback Theatre Stantsiya Uzh, have been performing from 2022 for children from all over Ukraine who come to this camp for rehabilitation. We have heard and performed countless children’s stories about leaving the occupation or under fire, losing friends, growing up rapidly and having a carefree childhood before the war. But today was a special performance. “The Pet Cemetery” is what we sarcastically called it a few months later. It all started with a story about the death of a hamster. Children experience the death of their pets in an incredibly painful way, often it is their first experience of loss, and I, as a conductor, say that it cannot be the child’s fault or responsibility if the animal gets sick and dies … A girl comes up, she is 8-9 years old, she doesn’t look very neat, she has arrows drawn under her eyes, like an adult, and starts telling a story about the illness and death of a kitten. She talks and laughs, and she doesn’t understand why she is laughing, even though she is not laughing. The details of the kitten’s suffering are shocking and disgusting, she tries to explain why she didn’t notice the kitten’s illness, why she couldn’t take it to the vet, and to my questions about her mother she keeps answering that her mother was busy … The actresses play the story, and finally the girl cries and I see her childish face with smeared arrows. She is the little kitten that no one wants, that cannot receive care and love from the adult world … We hug a lot with the children and curators, psychologists after the performance. It’s actually a closing ritual that spontaneously arises every time, the children change, but the hugs remain … I’m standing in the toilet at a petrol station and thinking about the fact that the girl, according to the curator, is suspected of having shingles. I really want to not just wash my hands, I want to wash off, scrape off all the dirt of this ruthless world that kills and maims, not only with Russian bombs, but also with the everyday callous indifference of its little dirty kittens. My name is Nataliia, and this is my story.
Я стою перед умивальником на заправці та злюсь, що нема мила і я не можу добре вимити руки. Ця заправка- наше місце шерінгу по дорозі в Ужгород після перформансів в дитячому кемпі “Маячки”. Ми, плейбек-театр театр “Станція Уж”, граємо перформанси з 22 року для дітей з усієї України, що приїжджають на реабілітацію в цей табір. Ми почули та відіграли вже незчисленну кількість дитячих історій про виїзд з окупації чи з-під обстрілів, втрату друзів, стрімке дорослішання і безтурботне дитинство до війни. Та сьогодні був особливий перформанс. “Кладовище домашніх тваринок”- так ми саркастично назвали його кілька місяців потому. Починалось все з історії про смерть хом’яка. Діти переживають смерть своїх улюбленців неймовірно болісно, часто це взагалі їх перший досвід зустрічі із втратою, і я в ролі кондактора зауважую, що це не може бути провиною та відповідальністю дитини, якщо тваринка захворіла та загинула… Виходить дівчина, їй років 8-9, вона виглядає не дуже охайно,в неї намальовані стрілки під очима, “як в дорослої”, і починає розказувати історію про хворобу та смерть кошеня. Вона говорить і сміється, і сама не розуміє, чому вона сміється, хоча їй не смішно. Деталі страждань кошеня викликають шок та огиду, вона намагається пояснити, чому не помітила хвороби кошеня, чому не змогла віднести до ветеринара, а на мої питання про маму весь час відповідає- мама була зайнята…Акторки грають історію, нарешті дівчина плаче і я бачу її дитяче обличчя з розмазаними стрілками. Це вона і є те маленьке кошеня, яке нікому не потрібне, яке не може отримати піклування та любові від дорослого світу… Ми багато обнімаємось з дітьми та кураторами, психологами після перформансу. Це фактично ритуал для завершення, який спонтанно виникає кожен раз, діти змінюються, а обійми залишаються … Я стою у вбиральні на заправці і думаю про те, що в дівчини, зі слів кураторки, є підозра на лишай. Дуже хочеться не просто вимити руки, хочеться змити, відшкрести з себе весь бруд цього безжального світу, що вбиває, калічить, і не лише російськими ракетами, але і буденною бездушною байдужістю своїх маленьких замурзаних кошенят. Я Наталія, і це моя історія.
Nataliia Shevchenko is a psychologist, trainer, actress and conductor, Forum Theater joker and a hospital clown. Since 2015, she has been the leader of the Kharkiv Playback Theater Live Mirror, engaged in Playback Theater with teenagers. In 2022 she was forced to move with her daughter to Uzhhorod because of the war, she became one of the founders of the playback theater Station Uzh and the art space. Now she is a trainer of the basic playback course and continue to work with teenagers, she teaches teenagers Playback Theater and also organizes performances for teenagers
My name is Ganna, and this is my story: Apathetic Anabiosis
It happened to me, as it inevitably does to most, at least once in a lifetime: death reached its sticky fingers into my family and took my mother. This coincided with the most loathsome time of year for me – winter. Dark, bitterly cold, and a gnawing anxiety filled the streets, mirroring the same feelings inside me. I searched for ways to mend my heart from this pain, and then I saw an advertisement for a Playback Theater course. I had only seen playback in action once before, and I absolutely hated it. It was on the stage of a puppet theater in Uzhhorod, where I had recently fled from the war. Volunteers had been invited as a gesture of gratitude, and I, having rationalized that peeling vegetables once in a soup kitchen for internally displaced people and weaving camouflage nets qualified me as a volunteer, went to the theater that day. “Too avant-garde,” I thought then. Yet, something compelled me to sign up for the course. I craved being among people, being heard, being seen. I remember the first exercise in the course; we had to say our name and then come up with a word, starting with the first letter of our name, that would characterize us. And then an adjective. Mine was Apathetic Anabiosis. I was trapped in a cocoon of memories, sorrow, and hopelessness. A little over two years have passed since that day. I now perform in Playback Theater (yes, the very one I called too avant-garde), surrounded by the best people I could have met in Uzhhorod. I never imagined I could connect with people I’d known for only a few weeks and trust them with my stories. I certainly never thought that telling my stories and playing others’ could be something so intimate and therapeutic. Much has happened in these two years, but most importantly, I am not Apathetic Anabiosis any more. My name is Ania, Aspiring Authenticity. And this is my story.
Апатичний Анабіоз
Одного разу зі мною сталось те що станеться хоча б раз в житті неминуче з більшістю з нас, смерть запустила свої липкі руки в мою родину і забрала собі мою маму. Це співпало з найогиднішим для мене періодом року – зимою. Темно, пронизливо холодно, ниюче тривожно на вулиці і так само всередині мене. Я шукала способи підлатати серце від цього болю, аж ось побачила оголошення про набір на курс плейбек-театру. Плейбек-театр в дії я бачила лише один раз і мені страшенно не сподобалось. Це було на великій сцені лялькового театру в Ужгороді, куди я нещодавно приїхала через початок війни і куди запросили волонтерів щоб таким чином віддячити їм. Я вирішила, що один раз почистити овочі для столової, де годували переселенців і один раз сплести сітки виправдовує статус “волонтера”, тому теж прийшла в той день в театр. “Занадто авангардно” подумала тоді. Проте щось змусило записатись на курс. Хотілось бути серед людей, бути почутою, проявленою. Пам’ятаю першу вправу на курсі, потрібно було назвати своє ім’я, а потім вигадати слово, на першу літеру імені, яка би характеризувала нас. А потім ще прикметник. У мене вийшов Апатичний Анабіоз. Я була в коконі спогадів, суму, безвиході. З того дня пройшло трохи більше двох років. Я граю в плейбек театрі (так, в тому самому, який назвала авангардним) і це найкращі люди, яких я могла зустріти в Ужгороді. Я ніколи не могла подумати, що зможу співналаштуватись з людьми, яких знаю декілька тижнів і довірити їм свої історії. Я взагалі не думала, що розказувати свої історії і грати чужі – це такий інтимний і терапевтичний досвід. Багато чого відбулося за ці два роки, але найголовніше, що я більше не Апатичний Анабіоз. Мене звуть Аня, Атмосферна Автентичність, і це моя історія.
Ganna Derevyanko is an actress at the Playback Theatre Stantsiia Uzh and a project manager in her life beyond the theatre. Raised in Donetsk and shaped by her time in Kyiv, she was driven to Uzhhorod by the full scale war in 2022. Initially, she hadn’t planned to socialize but unexpectedly found herself doing so. Her family’s occupation in Donetsk prevented her from attending her mother’s and grandfather’s funerals, and she now deeply longs to be reunited with her grandmother, Oleksandra, who remains isolated in Donetsk.
My name is Svitlana, and this is my story
During a playback training, one of the participants suddenly stopped taking part in the exercise. Everyone else was moving, laughing, but she just sat in the middle of the room. At first, I felt irritation, then concern—was she okay? Was I doing something wrong? I wanted to approach her, to comfort her, to reassure her that everything would be fine.
But something inside told me to leave her be. This was her moment, and I had to give her the space to go through it on her own. I immediately realized how important it was for me not to interfere, even when it was difficult. I let her stay in whatever state she was in and simply observed, staying close. When the training ended, she thanked me for the experience, saying it was meaningful for her.
This moment reminded me that my role is not always to make everyone happy but to create a space for real transformation, even when it is painful. It also showed me that my job is not to ensure the comfort of every participant or to control their experience but to give them the opportunity to grow—even through discomfort. It was a lesson in letting go of my own ego and embracing the fact that, as a trainer, I must be resilient, ready for any process, without the need to be liked by everyone. My name is Svitlana, and this is my story.
Під час плейбек-тренінгу одна з учасниць раптом перестала брати участь у вправі. Всі рухались, сміялись, а вона просто сиділа посеред зали. Спочатку це викликало у мене роздратування, а потім — тривогу: чи все з нею добре? Чи я щось не так роблю? Хотілося підійти, втішити, переконати, що все буде добре.
Але щось всередині підказало — залишити її. Це був її момент, і я мала дати їй можливість пройти його самостійно. Відразу відчула, як мені важливо не втручатися, навіть якщо це складно. Я залишила її в тому стані, в якому вона була, і просто спостерігала, знаходячись поруч. Коли тренінг завершився, вона подякувала мені за досвід, сказавши, що він був важливим.
Цей момент нагадує мені, що моє завдання — не завжди робити всіх щасливими, а створювати простір для справжніх змін, навіть якщо вони болісні. А ще, що моя роль не полягає в тому, щоб задовольняти чи контролювати комфорт кожного учасника, а в тому, щоб дати їм можливість зростати, навіть через неприємні відчуття. Це нагадало мені важливість відкидання власного его і того, що я як тренерка маю бути стійкою, готовою до будь-яких процесів, без потреби всім подобатись.
Мене звати Світлана. І це моя історія.
Svitlana Maslova is an actress and conductor at the Playback Theatre Stantsiia Uzh, as well as a web writer in her everyday life. She is also a trainer of the basic playback theatre course. She grew up in Hola Prystan, a town in the Kherson region that was occupied and later flooded after the destruction of the Kakhovka Hydroelectric Power Plant. She spent her adult life in Kharkiv, where she began her journey in Playback Theatre with Live Mirror. In 2022, after Russia’s full-scale invasion, she had to relocate to Uzhhorod, where she became a co-founder of the Playback Theatre Stantsiia Uzh and an art space. Now, she leads courses and workshops in playback theatre for adults and teenagers, helping others find their voices through improvisational theatre.
My name is Olena, and this is my story
On April 30, 2022, we had a performance in Uzhhorod, which was not yet very familiar at that time, but on our own stage, almost in our own home. On that first stage in Uzhhorod, in a two-story building rented by Daniel, our friend, entrepreneur and actor. Most of the audience that time were also Kharkiv residents who stopped here on the run from the war.
And on the day of that performance, my college friends – playbackers gave me a chic long black dress for the stage, because April 30th is my birthday. It just so happened. I had never аt all had one like that. A wide, large, mobile skirt on that stage is an opportunity to unclench,to relax, to feel. It’s safe here.
Longing for the lost, fears and anger – mine, my team’s, the storytellers’ – everything was digested, passed through, gave me strength. On that stage – in a large room on the second floor, where we slept at night, once a week in the evening we met for rehearsals and played out our stories. We were looking for harmony in the chaos that the war had created. Physical, musical, linguistic.
There and then we decided to speak Ukrainian to our audience, although the Russian and Ukrainian words were initially confused in pronunciation. But Ukrainian broke through and flowed like a river, how else? Behind it is strength.
Musical sharing at the beginning of the rehearsal – a common rhythm that holds feelings. Physical exercises during warm-ups – to disperse pain, fear, rage – into movement, into voice. Yes, in those first months there were performances for Red Cross volunteers, for students of the medical faculty of Uzhgorod University. And on an open area, where the birds sang louder than the actors …
And then our collective playback team was called Station Uzh and found, rented a new Space. And I remember that performance For my own. And my mobile black dress. The roots of my strength and endurance despite the losses of the war are here – in that large room on the second floor of the house that Daniel rented. Like Noah’s Ark.
By the way, the cats and dog of this house also joined the playback scene in it.
30 квітня 2022 року в нас був перформанс в ще не дуже знайомому тоді Ужгороді, але на своїй сцені, майже в своєму домі. На тій першій сцені в Ужгороді, в двоповерховому будинку, що орендував Даніель, наш друг, підприємець і актор. Більшість глядачів в той раз були теж харків’яни, що зупинилися тут на бігу від війни.
І в день того перформанса колежанки – плейбекерки подарували мені шикарну довгу чорну сукню для сцени. Бо 30 квітня мій день народження.Так співпало. В мене такої не було ні-ко-ли. Широка велика рухлива юбка на тій сцені – то можливість розжатися, відчувати. Тут в безпеці.
Туга за втраченим, страхи й гнів – мої, моєї команди, оповідачів – все перетравлювалося, пропускалося крізь себе, давало силу. На тій сцені – у великій кімнаті на другому поверсі, де ми спали вночі, ввечері раз на тиждень ми зустрічалися на репетиціях й відігравали свої історії. Шукали співзвучність тому хаосу, що створила війна. Тілесну, музичну, мовну.
Там і тоді вирішили українською розмовляти з нашими глядачами, хоча російські й українські слова спочатку плуталися у вимові. Але українська пробилася й потікла рікою, як інакше? За нею сила .
Музичні шерінги на початку репетиції – спільний ритм, що тримає почуття. Тілесні вправи на розминках – розігнати біль, страх, лють – в рух, в голос. Так, в ті перші місяці були перформанси для волонтерів Червоного хреста, для студентів медфакультета Ужгородського університету. І на відкритому майданчику, де птахи співали голосніше за акторів …
А потім наша збірна плейбек команда найменувалася Станцією Уж й знайшла, орендувала новий Простір. А мені пам’ятається той перформанс “для своїх”. Й моя рухлива чорна сукня. Корені моєї сили й витривалості попри втрати війни тут – в тій великій кімнаті на другому поверсі будинку, що орендував Даніель. Наче Ноїв ковчег.
До речі, коти й собака цього дому теж долучалися до сцени плейбеку в ньому.
Olena Bogomolova is a playback actress at the Uzh Station Theater. Outside the theater, she is a psychologist and psychotherapist. She lived in Kharkiv and worked as a psychologist in Kharkiv schools. Since 2015, she has been an actress at the Zhive Dzerkalo Playback Theater in Kharkiv. After Russia’s full-scale invasion, in March 2022, she went to Uzhgorod, where she became an actress in a team of playback artists from Kharkiv, Dnipro, and Odesa. Over time, the actors gave the theater the name Uzh Station. Olena participates in all its events, performances, and projects.
My name is Diana and this is my story
It was a training with Nata Vaynilovich, when I discovered a pain point in myself that I didn’t know about before. And I remember how at the end of one of the exercises I had to sing something from my childhood. I wanted to sing something good and nice, but … “I see, I see my own thriller – from Monday to Sunday,” I barely managed to sing through tears.
After that, I cried for another 15 minutes, maybe more. I felt relieved and stupid at the same time – because who I am to get tired of the things that happen to me in ordinary life. Because it’s war. Because for someone it’s harder to go through it.
But Artistka Chuprynenko once sang: “I’m a normal person who has feelings… I also get hurt.”
Yes, I hurt from the war. I’m tired of it. But I’m not running away from it as much as I can. And I deliberately go into topics related to war, such as stratification and isolation. I go into it with people who accept my pain, can be with it, but won’t take it upon themselves. Because everyone has their own pain. And this does not mean that they need to be saved, as it always seemed to me before. Because sometimes there is only enough strength for yourself. And it’s okay.
Це був тренінг з Натою Вайнілович, коли я відкрила в собі якусь точку болю, про яку раніше не знала. І пам’ятаю, як вкінці однієї вправи потрібно було заспівати пісню з мого дитинства. Хотілось співати щось добре і хороше, але…
«Бачу-бачу власний трилер – з понеділка по неділю», – ледь-ледь крізь сльози проспівала я.
Опісля я проплакала ще хвилин 15, якщо не більше. Відчувала себе полегшено і безглуздо водночас – бо хто я така, щоб втомлюватись від речей, які відбуваються зі мною в “звичайному житті”. Бо війна ж. Бо комусь важче.
Але Артистка Чуприненко в одній пісні співає: «Я нормальна людина, у якої є живі чуства… Мені тоже больно».
Так, мені боляче від війни. Я втомилась від неї. Та я не тікаю від неї, наскільки можу. І навмисно йду в теми, пов’язані з війною, як от ці ж самі розшарування та ізоляція. Йду з людьми, які приймуть мій біль, побудуть з ним поруч, але не братимуть його на себе. Бо в кожного є свій. І це не означає, що їх треба рятувати, як мені раніше завжди здавалось. Бо сил іноді вистачає лише для себе. І це ок.
Diana Vyshneva is an actress of Uzhhorod Drama Theatre. She was born in Kyiv and lived there for 14 years. After moving to Yampil in Vinnytsia she finished school there and then decided to go studying in Uzhhorod in 2017. After the full-scale invasion of Russia she found out about Playback Theatre. It was possible ‘thanks’ to war because that was the reason Stantsiia Uzh happened to Uzhhorod. In summer of 2024 Diana finished basic course of Playback Theatre and joined the project Challenges of War: Stratification and Isolation.
That same year she became a co-founder and actress of Coupe Playback Theatre in Uzhhorod. And now she also cooperates with Stantsiia Uzh too.
My name is Anya, and this is my story
Honestly, when I came to my first class, I was scared. Really scared. I sat there thinking, “What am I doing here? This is definitely not for me. Everyone else will do great, and I’ll just embarrass myself.”
When the moment came to play out someone else’s story, I did what I could and was ready to disappear into the ground. But then Victoria said, “I liked how you portrayed my story.” And I was like, “Wait … is she talking about me?” It felt so strange to hear that because I thought I had messed up completely.
During the break, I sat in the kitchen, staring at my cup of tea, thinking, “That’s it. This is my first and last time. It’s too hard, I can’t handle it.” But then people started coming up to me, talking, sharing their own worries. And I realized — I wasn’t the only one. Everyone was nervous. Everyone was afraid they wouldn’t get it right. And that’s when I thought, “I want to be here.”
My name is Anya. And this is my story.
Чесно, коли я прийшла на перше заняття, мені було страшно. Реально страшно. Я сиділа і думала «Що я тут роблю? Це ж точно не для мене. У всіх вийде, а я просто зганьблюсь». Коли настав момент, коли потрібно було прожити чужу історію, я зробила, що змогла, і вже була готова провалитися крізь землю. Але потім Вікторія сказала «Мені сподобалось, як ти показала мою історію». Я така «це вона про мене, чи що». Було дуже дивно це чути, бо я ж думала, що все зробила абияк. На перерві я сиділа на кухні, дивилася на чашку чаю і думала «ну все, це мій перший і останній раз. Це важко, я не потягну». Але потім до мене почали підходити люди, говорити, ділитися своїми переживаннями. І я зрозуміла, що не одна така. Що всі теж хвилюються, всі бояться, що у них не вийде. І тоді я подумала ” я хочу тут бути”. Мене звати Аня. І це моя історія.
Anna Kryuchkova is 16 years old, actress of the teenage Playback Theater Tayemnytsia Sertsia in Uzhhorod. She was born in Khmelnytskyi, but life turned out in such a way that she spent most of her life traveling across Ukraine. She has visited many cities and has been living in Zakarpattia for the past four years. She studies stage performance at the Academy of Culture and Arts. For her, theater is more than just education. It’s a chance to live dozens of lives and better understand her own—because, honestly, that can be difficult sometimes. Besides theater, she enjoys postcrossing and reading. Oh, and she also has a dog named Wendy and a cat named Smoky. She loves the color blue … and she has pink socks.
My name is Anastasiia and this is my story: A Thousand and One Nights
In 2022, we began searching for a space of our own. A place to rehearse, teach others, and restore ourselves. I could tell many stories about it, but one story is its heart. The art space Stantsia Uzh appeared in the summer of 2022. For me, it is the home of Playback Theatre.
Our friend Serhii — a musician and volunteer — helped us create this space. He came to Uzhhorod for a short time and planned to join the army as a volunteer to defend Ukraine and its people. He did everything — renovation, building furniture — there was a lot of work. At some point, I realized I was already looking for new tasks for Serhii, just so he would stay with us a little longer. It was frightening to let him go.
Since the autumn of 2022, Serhii has been serving in the military. Every time I am in our art space, I see him through all the things he built. And I ask for protection for him and wish for his return — home, and to peaceful life.
My name is Anastasiia. This is my story.
Тисяча і одна ніч
В 2022 році ми почали шукати свій простір, де можна проводити репетиції, навчати інших та відновлюватись. Я можу розказати безліч історій про нього, але одна – це її серце. Арт-простір Stantsia Uzh з”явився влітку 2022, для мене це Дім плейбек театру.
В облаштуванні простору нам допомагав друг, музикант та волонтер Сергій. Він приїхав ненадовго в Ужгород і потім збирався йти добровольцем у військо, щоб захищати Україну та її людей. Він робив все: ремонт, майстрування меблів, роботи було багато. В якийсь момент я зрозуміла, що вже шукаю завдання для Сергія, щоб він ще трохи побув з нами, бо було страшно його відпускати.
З осені 2022 року Сергій є вісковослужбовцем, кожен раз коли я знаходжусь в нашому Арт-просторі, я бачу його через все що він зробив, та прошу захисту для нього та бажаю повернення додому і до мирного життя.
Мене звати Анастасія, це моя історія.
Anastasiia Karandashova is a Playback Theatre actress, trainer, and psychologist. Anastasiia has been part of the Playback Theatre community since 2017. She performed in Odessa before the full-scale invasion, which brought her to Uzhhorod in 2022. There, amidst uncertainty and change, she found grounding in singing, in presence, and in sharing — teaching herself and others to listen, reflect, and stay human. Her work gently weaves together theatre and therapy, voice and silence, vulnerability and strength.
Playback Theatre as a Tool for Preserving Collective and Cultural Identity
By Vlad Zernov
Introduction
Turbulent times often force us to adapt and rethink established practices. In this paper, I want to explore my own re-evaluations of the Playback Theatre method in the context of the wartime migration of Ukrainians. Since the beginning of the full-scale invasion in February 2022, I have been involved in creating performances for Ukrainian war migrants: in Vilnius and Lithuania (as part of the theatre Vakhtery), since January 2023 – in Krakow and Poland (as part of The Ukrainian Playback Theatre in Krakow), and in Germany (as part of the theatre Kochivnyky).
My primary goal has been to support the Ukrainian community abroad through Playback Theatre. While many playback practitioners have already examined its role in the displacement and refugee experience, such as creating spaces of support, serving as a healing tool, and fostering community building – I aim to highlight additional aspects. One of these aspects is the use of Playback Theatre as a tool for preserving collective and cultural identity.
Impacts of forced migration
Forced migration in the context of war presents profound challenges to maintaining identity at both individual and collective levels. Those who have experienced displacement often lose fundamental habits, rituals, and certain elements of their identity. This is a consequence of the impact of circumstances when you lose your home, when you find yourself in a new country, and when you try to adapt and survive in this new context. Renos Papadopoulos describes this process through the concept of onto-ecological unsettledness, which states that “under the influence of the experience of forced displacement, a person can lose components of his or her identity, which will have consequences in his or her condition” (Papadopoulos, 2021).
A key component of this identity loss is the weakening of collective identity. This process may manifest in various ways: difficulties in using language as an identity marker, increased influence of a new culture through the information space, loss of the physical environment that is part of identity, separation/disintegration from the society/community to which one belongs, alienation from one’s own culture, forced adoption of the historical optics of a new country, weakening of memory rituals (such as the inability to celebrate national holidays and commemorative events), and severance from the material cultural heritage.
Some of these consequences are inevitable, while others can be prevented or mitigated. To counteract this – to preserve cultural and collective identity outside the country – a person must make certain efforts. However, this is often hindered not only by the objective difficulties faced by forced migrants but also by the policies of the host society. The process of adaptation and integration in a new society (a positive process that helps a person overcome isolation) is often accompanied by a certain level of assimilation. This, in turn, can lead to the detachment of a person from their original community, the restructuring of their cultural and collective identity, and assimilation to the new community. This process is documented by a number of studies (Groen et al., 2019; Stephanie and Isilay 2021; Theisen-Womersley, 2021).
Thus, beyond the immediate trauma of war (loss of home, occupation, death of loved ones or separation from them), the traumatic experience of forced displacement (the state of a stranger, loss of control over one’s life, loss of status and economic uncertainty), displaced individuals often undergo a third form of trauma: forced assimilation. Where they are forced to reject a part of themself, suppress aspects of their identity to comply with the norms and requirements of a new society. This assimilationist model often fails to distinguish between migrant groups applying the same expectations to economic migrants, voluntary and forced migrants alike. Additionally, it affects communities whose cultural and national identity is already under threat (Wikipedia, accessed March, 2025). And this is what the aggressor (in this case, Russia) is counting on – the gradual dispersion, the loss of their cultural identity by the majority of people leaving their home country (in my and our case – Ukraine).
The importance of cultural identity
I believe that displaced individuals should have the opportunity to retain the ability to remain part of their original community, preserve their cultural identity, and do so without guilt or external pressure to assimilate. The formation of diaspora communities should not be viewed as an act of self-imposed isolation (self-ghettoisation) or as a potential threat to national unity (separatism). Instead, it should be recognized as a legitimate means of maintaining cultural continuity in exile.
This is a big complex problem, and the means of Playback Theatre can only partially address it. In the following, I will try to describe the optics that can help preserve the collective identity of the Ukrainian community in the face of the experience of forced migration and assimilation policies.
One of the concepts in this discourse is that of home – a notion that encapsulates both personal and collective experiences of displacement. On a personal level, home is a space that I identify as mine, as a space of comfort, security and acceptance. Something that I hold separate from the outside, alien and unknown. It is something that belongs to me, to which I belong, where I can establish my personal sacred, which carries a deep subjective value. At the collective level, home acquires the attribute of we – a community of people with whom you relate, a cultural space of narratives in which you fit in, including through collective rituals. A space of shared responsibility, service to the common, which manifests in places of significance, in common historical references, language, traditions, and memory. And this is what sustains our collective identity.
Playback Theatre performance as space of home
I had never previously considered the space of playback performance as a potential home. But now this idea seems almost obvious to me. A phrase I heard several times after a successful performance was that people felt “at home for the first time in a long time”. And this is something that I actually think is quite a rare feeling for people who are forced to stay outside their country. Therefore, it was valuable for me to explore the mechanisms that foster this association and how it can be achieved.
In his article The Theory of Narrative Reticulation, Jonathan Fox describes the performance space as a space of altered consciousness, where the components of guidance and atmosphere create a ‘mood of neighbourliness’ and a ‘trance state’ (Fox, 2021). In my opinion, these components can also be used to create a ‘feeling of home’.
Firstly, it can be related to the performance announcements themselves. Developing descriptions in them that present the playback performance as a space for your own. For people who understand you, with whom you can share your pain, with whom you are going through a common or related experience.
The opening remarks of the conductor may include:
- Commemorating meaningful dates and events, including moments of silence to honor victims.
- Highlighting the role of Playback Theatre as a support system for displaced communities, reminding the audience that they themselves constitute such a community
- Referencing significant current events, shared experiences, and the ongoing war, thereby reinforcing a collective consciousness
- Emphasizing the importance of Ukrainians maintaining a sense of community abroad
As an example of this, at one of the performances, the conductor used the memory of Nika Kozhushko, an artist recently killed by Russia. The conductor’s speech brought up an important collective context that served as a tribute and a reminder of the importance of appreciating your loved ones while they are still with you.
The introduction of additional shared rituals can also serve to create a sense of home:
- At the beginning of the performance, a small audience might participate in a circle of acquaintance
- Following the performance, a reflection circle could provide space for participants to process their emotions collectively
- Additional symbolic acts – such as a ritual of lighting the fire (by lighting candles or a certain joint gesture) or the use of a common object passed between participants (such as a cloth on which people can write words) – can reinforce a sense of continuity
- A returning home ritual could also be incorporated, allowing participants to leave tangible traces of their presence, which could then be carried forward to the next performance, ensuring that the space remains interconnected across time and experiences
I want to share a story that raised a special moment of communal unity during a playback performance. The teller was sharing her experience of visiting her family in Ukraine:
“My story is related to my homeland. I’m from the countryside – I was born there, and the happiest moments of my childhood are associated with it. And you know, it’s that feeling when you come back, when you walk around your native place, and you are literally surrounded by memories at every step. I started crying maybe three days before I left, because it was very sad to leave. And after I returned, lying in bed, I remembered how my dad gave me two tomatoes that he had picked in the garden. And it was so heartfelt – just your dear one giving you two tomatoes … (crying)
24 August, Independence Day. I have a train to catch, and my mother and I are leaving early. It’s a rural road, the sun is just rising. We have the radio on, we’re driving, silent, because we’re worried we won’t make it in time. And now, imagine this picture: the sun is rising and our national anthem is playing. And there are just tears in my eyes. Because you subconsciously start to sing along, and then do your lips begin to move, singing the words. The sun is rising. And you think how wonderful it is to live in this country. It was. It’s a great pity that it’s hard to live there now. And, in fact, my story is probably about loneliness. Because loneliness does not mean that a person is alone, or that he or she has no one. They may be surrounded by many people. But in reality, a person can feel lonely because they have no one to share things with. You seem to be among people, but they don’t understand you. They won’t give you two tomatoes. During this trip, I realised that the closest people are your family. And we think we have so much time, that we will call tomorrow – but we don’t. You see, for some people, today may be their last day. My friend’s son died in the war – a young man. I won’t say that I could find the words to support her, because there are no words. We just cried together. I haven’t seen my mother for a year, and she is a very important person in my life. And when you don’t feel that closeness for a long time, you just long for it with all your heart. And my mother’s hugs are incomparable.”
During enactment of this story an actress spontaneously began singing the Ukrainian national anthem, and the others joined in. And in this way, the whole audience joined in, singing, thereby expanding the story and demonstrating to the teller the impact that her story and its reenactment can have in the context of performance. It was a real moment of people coming together, uniting around a symbolically important process.
Other cultural elements can be used in the same way, such as other national songs and images. Sometimes physical or material attributes, such as Ukrainian embroidery, Petrykivka painting (a traditional Ukrainian decorative painting style), other elements of cultural artistic identity and aesthetics can serve as both ritual elements and additional expressive tools that are a kind of cultural marker.
It is important to emphasise the value of supporting each other and that storytelling within Playback Theatre is a communal experience that fosters mutual support. By sharing their personal stories, participants highlight the universality of certain experiences, reinforcing the idea that their struggles and emotions are not isolated but collectively shared. And in this way, people will feel that what they are doing is not only for themselves, but also for others. They will feel responsible for this space and for the joint process, their own influence on the collective.
Home and collective narratives
In the context of a playback performance as a space of home, stories and their elements, which people share, become personal and collective sacred. What we want to achieve is to create a space where people can place images of their personal and collective sacred. A recurring theme among displaced individuals is the story of how it was before the war. These recollections can be centered on quite varied topics (for example, about childhood). It seems to me that this is a way to build, perhaps even unconsciously, an imaginary resistance through these memories and images. A way to keep the light on in dark times. People also engage in joint research of certain collective narratives (for example, home, family, loss in the context of war). The theme of home is one of the most commonly heard from war migrants. Stories about home encompass a range of experiences: these can be memories of the past, of childhood, of the parental home, reflections on the physical loss of home, emotional loss of home, about experience of occupation. These stories can explore themes of being unable to return home and see loved ones, as well as the experience of coming back. They may depict not having a home at all or carrying a sense of home within through certain qualities. Others may capture the internal conflict between a home in Ukraine and a new home elsewhere. There could also be stories about traveling to Ukraine, reconnecting with relatives, and cherishing this experience as especially meaningful today, like the story mentioned in the previous part.
The following story focuses on the need to build a new home for a child’s future.
TELLER: I have never had a real home. I lost that feeling when I was a child. And over the past three years, due to the war and other circumstances, I’ve lost everything I could rely on. Now I feel an urgent need to ‘build my home’ – without relying on anyone. I have a daughter. And I need to build a good home. For her. And for myself.
CONDUCTOR: What is home for you?
TELLER: Home is a feeling. It’s a sense of stability. A place you can come back to – a place that is waiting for you. Something that won’t disappear easily. You have to try very hard to destroy a real home. But I’m afraid that I won’t be able to build it. Over the years, I have finally started to feel that I am really living. And I won’t get another chance, another life. I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes – being scared, avoiding things. Because there’s no time. But I am afraid that I won’t be able to change. That I’m used to making these mistakes. That I won’t learn to live differently.
CONDUCTOR: Does anyone help you, support you?
TELLER: Yes. My daughter – she’s only one year and eight months old, but she’s my support. My mum. A few friends. I try to support myself, too. And I also have a therapist.
CONDUCTOR: And at what point did you feel that you needed your home?
TELLER: When my daughter was born, her father and I broke up, and I realised I was completely alone. And that’s when I understood how important it is. Before that, I didn’t feel I had much value in life. But now I do. This world makes more sense to me when I realise I need to care about someone who is very, very valuable to me – how she lives, how she enjoys life, how many opportunities she has. That’s when I understand that this world is not a toy. And that I need to be careful with it.
Home and shared trauma
Returning to the initial component, it is most important to emphasise that this is a space for our own, focused on the Ukrainian community, on forced migrants. Another obvious component is the language. It should be a space where people speak Ukrainian, where it does not feel strange and unusual. Where they can do it without feeling guilty about it. And ideally, forget for a while that they are in another country. The other component is the opportunity for people to be themselves, to exist beyond imposed identities. Not as a refugee or a Ukrainian abroad, Ukrainian in Poland, a nice polite and grateful guest. It is valuable to me to give people the opportunity to forget that they are guests or refugees, to remove the pressure to conform – to appear either strong or vulnerable, to act as representatives of their homeland. To allow them to share their traumatic experiences, if they have an actualised need for testifying. So that they can speak without the expectation of justification or explanation – addressing their community that inherently understands their pain, who have lived through similar events and the collective trauma that Ukrainians experience now.
Going through a traumatic experience is similar to being in a tunnel. Playback Theatre may help you to get out of it, see different ways of perceiving reality, and realise that you are part of a larger narrative. A story about building a new home for a child’s future (from the previous part) was followed during the performance by a story about military service and a rare moment of reunion with family.
TELLER: I am a military man. That’s why I’m here. To be here, I need to be a good military man. But I also want to be a good father and a good husband. And I have a family here, 900 kilometres from my place of service. I have a wife here who needs me, I have a son aged 11 and a daughter aged 13. And this is a time when they need me, and I want to be with them. And it worries me, because time is running out, and I don’t really know if I’ll have this next time to spend 15 days with my family.
CONDUCTOR: How is your wife coping with this separation?
TELLER: She’s probably more worried than me, she’s very sad. But we are holding on as we are.
CONDUCTOR: And what helps you to hold on?
TELLER: The desire to be together. The desire to be together in an independent Ukraine. To build a home where we will live together.
CONDUCTOR: And how are the children?
TELLER: The children are growing up. They grow up fast. From vacation to vacation they grow this much (shows distance of several centimetres). And inside, mentally they grow this much (shows a greater distance). We walk, we talk, we do different things. And my heart is already sad, because the vacation is coming to an end … It’s quite difficult to convey something over the phone. It’s half the problem to explain mathematics over the phone. But to explain to my son how to behave as a man, or to my daughter what to pay attention to when interacting with boys, for example. Bringing up values over the phone is not easy.
Here, in Poland, they are relatively safe, but not happy …
Both of these narratives, though distinct, share a common denominator: family in context of war. Together, they reveal the multidimensional nature of collective experience. This leads to the last major component – the collective reflection on traumatic experience. As mentioned earlier, these are the topics that people turn to again and again. These are what can be described as collective narratives that people build spontaneously. Together, mostly without even realising it, they build a collective narrative of home in the context of a Ukrainian abroad. Or a collective narrative of loss, war, or refugee experience. This process is what I define as collective reflection. It begins with the ability to speak openly in a safe environment, where personal experiences are placed within a broader communal context. To see people around, see that they hurt, and realize that it is no longer just they – it is we, because their pain is also mine. And this is a very important prerequisite for having a space where people already understand that they are gathering with similar experiences, where this context and this basis already exist. In this way, the testimony that Jo Salas spoke about in the context of working with traumatic stories becomes collective (Salas, 2020). Because it is not an individual who testifies here, it is a community that testifies and does so to a collective experience/trauma. And, accordingly, thanks to the playback toolkit, the resilience that is built is also collective. The resource that we bring to the stage is not for one person, it is for the community. And in this context, it becomes even more relevant than usual. Because this community, in principle, lives this experience together. In my opinion, this effect is possible precisely in targeted work with the community, in the validation and celebration of collective identity, and in the creation and actualisation of collective identity in the space of home. A space that may not fit into the overall larger context of this country, that gathers people who may not fit into the overall larger collective identity of the country. But to recognise that they don’t have to fit in, because they have their own collective identity, and it is just as valuable. You still exist as a community. Your country still exists. Your language still exists. You have not become different people, and you don’t have to become different people if you don’t want to. You have this experience, it’s terrible, but at the same time we are together in this, and we have the opportunity to share it.
Final thoughts
And finally, I would like to make a small digression. I think most of those who are reading this know the values that Playback Theatre is based on. And I think most of them are aware of the great new challenge facing the free world, and the playback community in particular. I believe that the playback community is based on the very values that are being destroyed in the world today. In Ukraine, it happens physically under bombshells, in America, it happens in a different way. And I would like to see the playback community emphasise its values much more than it usually does, emphasise its values of equality, social justice, standing up for the oppressed. These are things that are now becoming very important. Therefore, it is important to talk about it, to tell playbackers, to talk in playback circles and to talk in the circles of people who come to playback-performances. So, I would like to call for this. And just as the playback in Ukraine adapts to the war, just as the playback community in exile adapts to forced migration, and in both cases tries to save what is in danger of disappearing and what Russia is trying to destroy. Likewise, I believe that each of those people who can consider themselves to be part of the playback community can take responsibility for preserving the world that Putin, Trump and other ideologues of authoritarianism, oppression, inequality, and total cynicism are now trying to destroy.
References
Fox, J. (2021). ‘The Theory of Narrative Reticulation: a Brief Description’ Personal Stories in Public Spaces: Essays on Playback Theater by Its Founders, Jonathan Fox and Joe Salas.
Groen, S., Richters, A., Laban, C., van Busschbach, J., Devillé, W. (2019). Cultural Identity Confusion and Psychopathology: A Mixed-Methods Study Among Refugees and Asylum Seekers in the Netherlands. The Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease 207(3)
Papadopoulos, R. (2021). ‘Involuntary Dislocation. Home, Trauma, Resilience, and Adversity-Activated Development’.
Salas J. (2020). Enacting Testimony: Trauma Stories in Playback Theatre. Trauma in the Creative and Embodied Therapies
Stephanie E. B., Isilay T. (2021) The right of minority-refugees to preserve their cultural identity: An intersectional analysis. Netherlands Quarterly of Human Rights
Theisen-Womersley, G. (2021). Trauma and Resilience Among Displaced Populations: A Sociocultural Exploration.
Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia (accessed Mar 15, 2025). Allegations of genocide of Ukrainians in the Russo-Ukrainian War
About the author
My name is Vlad Zernov. I am from Kharkiv, Ukraine. For the past five years I have been deeply engaged in Playback Theatre. I have been a member of three different playback groups, exploring various roles, including actor, musician, conductor, and trainer. Over this time, I have participated in around 80 playback performances. I also have experience in documentary theatre, where I have worked on stories of Ukrainian war migrants. For the last two years, I have been actively developing the Ukrainian Playback Theatre in Krakow. Currently, I run a Playback Theatre studio for teenagers, write educational materials on Playback Theatre, and manage a website and blog dedicated to the topic. Additionally, I strive to share my experience with other Ukrainian communities across Poland by conducting Playback Theatre workshops and supporting the creation of new playback groups for Ukrainians living in Poland.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Olena Kompletova for her editing.
Challenges and Specifics of Playback Theatre in the Military
By Roman Kandybur
Introduction
Greetings, friends! My name is Roman Kandybur. I am the head of the Board of the Ukrainian School of Playback Theatre and a playback trainer and performer. However, these roles are currently on pause. Right now, I am a sergeant in the Ukrainian Army, serving as a military psychologist.
The situation on the front lines is extremely difficult: Russia continues to destroy Ukrainian cities and villages, committing genocide against Ukrainians in the occupied territories. The only ones who can stop this are the Armed Forces of Ukraine. That’s why I am here—because the psychological state of Ukraine’s defenders directly impacts our combat readiness.
And since this is me, I use Playback Theatre in my work. It is an incredibly powerful tool, and it works even in the military. I have not found other examples of Playback Theatre being used by the military for the military during active combat operations. That’s why I want to share my observations and some specifics of using playback in the army.
Applying Playback Theatre in the military is different from what we are used to in regular or even unconventional performances. The army – especially during a full-scale war – is a unique structure, and I have already encountered certain challenges that may be useful for you to know about. I will speak only from my own experience, which is quite unusual because I perform Playback Theatre in a solo format.
Unfortunately, there are no other playbackers here (yet – I’m working on it). So, this is mono-playback, a special form of Playback Theatre where the conductor, actor, and musician are all embodied in one person who transitions between roles throughout the performance. I have conducted around 15 performances in various units, under different circumstances, and in different emotional states.
Sometimes, I arrived at military units on my own initiative; other times, I was invited. From this experience, I want to highlight certain points that might be useful if you are considering working with the military or if your work is connected in some way to this context.
solo performance for soldiers at the front line
Hierarchy and Trust
In civilian playback, we are accustomed to relatively horizontal connections. The audience is usually homogeneous. The exception might be corporate performances, where there could be a boss or director present.
But in the military, hierarchy is everything. It is a vertically structured system where higher ranks hold significant power. A superior does not just control salaries and career progression – he controls the lives of his subordinates. So, if senior officers are in the audience, the soldiers will be reserved. Stories may remain superficial, and soldiers may fear saying too much. Playback might not happen at all.
Similarly, soldiers might be wary of me because I belong to the brigade’s psychological service. If I arrive at a battalion, I represent the brigade command. My hierarchy is higher, and participants might have been gathered for the session without their consent or desire.
This is a problem of hierarchy – soldiers could be ordered to attend. They might hear something like: “At 14:00, you are required to attend. The brigade’s personnel have arrived – everyone must be there.” The audience may feel forced to participate. Soldiers, who are meant to be resting after returning from the front lines, are suddenly ordered to attend a playback session. This is the reality.
This needs to be addressed. Soldiers need to feel that I am not there to lecture them or gather information to report. They must trust me. Building trust is crucial. More time and effort must be invested in this than in civilian performances.
I use a tea ceremony. It helps slow the audience down and relieve tension. It is also something interesting and unusual. While serving tea, I also introduce breathing exercises that activate the parasympathetic nervous system – shifting soldiers from anxiety to calmness.
During the tea ceremony, I take on the role of serving – pouring tea, telling stories, and not demanding obedience. This changes how they perceive my role: I am no longer an authority figure from a higher military structure but someone on their level.
Performance Space
Playback performances can be held in many places—classrooms, hospital rooms, offices, parks, and more. Playbackers are skilled at adapting spaces for performance.
But in the military, this challenge is on a whole different level.
I have performed in forests, where trees grow everywhere, making it unclear where to set up the stage. In bunkers, where the available space for a stage is less than one square meter, and the only light is from a small flashlight. I’ve performed in company headquarters, where other people are working during the session, with radios constantly transmitting messages. In underground shelters, where the air quality is poor. Once, I did a performance for a unit of ten soldiers, but there were only five chairs. Where should they sit? After that, I started bringing my own chairs.
You must be prepared to set up a stage in completely unsuitable conditions – because that might be the only space available at that moment. Often, this cannot be planned in advance, so you need to be ready to create a stage anywhere, even in places that seem impossible.
Uncertainty and Audience Size
Large gatherings of soldiers are impossible because they are a target for enemy attacks -missiles, drones, or other threats. Forget about performances for 30, 40, or 50 people. If my audience has ten participants, that’s already a lot. More commonly, I perform for three to five people.
Additionally, participants can change mid-session. A storyteller might be called away by radio. A commander might enter and say, “We need to move out immediately!” and half the audience disappears. This can happen during a story or even during an enactment. The storyteller may suddenly vanish.
Extreme uncertainty
In playback, we train for unpredictability and flexibility, but in a combat unit, these demands are at the maximum level. How to manage this?
- Mentally prepare yourself for this kind of disruption.
- Inform participants beforehand that interruptions are possible and that we will continue or stop depending on circumstances.
- Coordinate with the commander to secure uninterrupted time for the session whenever possible.
Who is the Storyteller?
In civilian playback, we typically focus on a single storyteller. Even if a story involves a group, we identify one main narrator. In the military, I encountered situations where the storyteller was the entire unit.
For example, in one of my early performances, a unit had recently lost several comrades. Their morale was extremely low. The fallen soldiers had been the heart of their team.
When playback began, after some initial surface-level stories, the conversation shifted to these fallen comrades. Suddenly, everyone started talking at once.
I decided not to stop them. The entire unit became the storyteller. Everyone shared their emotions simultaneously. This was powerful. There were tears, emotional release, and collective grieving. The story belonged to everyone, and playback helped them process their grief together. In the military, the ritual of a single storyteller is more flexible. When a story affects the entire unit, the whole group may need to speak.
Conclusion
I joined the army to support Ukraine’s defenders. Playback Theatre is a crucial tool in this mission. Yes, there are many challenges. Yes, the format might change so much that it barely resembles traditional playback.
But the soldiers tell their stories. Their stories are heard. An atmosphere of connection and support is created. Keep doing playback. Support each other. Support the Ukrainian people in their fight for existence against a brutal aggressor.
Together to victory! Glory to Ukraine!
About the author
Now I am a military psychologist, a junior sergeant of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. Before serving in the army I was the head of the Board of the Ukrainian School of Playback Theater, the leader of the Dnipro Playback Theater Neighbors, a certified Playback Theater trainer (Center for Playback Theater, USA), co-founder of the Ethnodrive movement, performer, drum circle conductor, facilitator, psychotherapist, and author and conductor of workshops and educational programs in Ukraine, Europe, China, and Israel.
Theater of Tears (or Playback Theatre in Traumatized Society)
By Iryna Lesyk, Alisa Volkova, Viktor Yefimenko, Veronika Koval, Igor Luzhanskyy, Kozdrovytska Nataliia, Chunikhin Oleksandr, Olena Astafieva
“We are living in a terrible period, but it is uncertainty that encourages the search for new forms and development.” (Veronika)
Setting the scene
To create this article, we came together as a group of Ukrainian playback practitioners, to share and to reflect on the way our playback practice has developed as a consequence of our experiences of working with and living with trauma.
Introductions: Some personal and emotional stories about our encounter with a traumatized society
Hello, my name is Ihor, I am an officer of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. In the summer of 2023, I returned from a combat mission to serve in peaceful Kyiv. It was my first sustained contact with the civilian environment in more than a year of being in the army and performing combat missions. It was important for me to share my stories about life in the army, challenges and losses. Unfortunately, for many of those around me, the content of my stories was too shocking, unusual and traumatic, as well as for the playback players, who were confused how to play my story …
My name is Elena, and I have been in playback for 10 years. At the beginning of the full-scale invasion, I was in Egypt with my children. Playback is a big part of my life, so I went on stage solo. Every month I did performances for Ukrainians and sometimes others. The most valuable experience was working with conflict in the audience. I remember how a mother who lost her son in the war sat next to a mother who took her son abroad. It was the first time the two stories met on stage. Although I can’t say that the playback exactly connected their experiences, at least the women were able to talk together and hug each other after the performance.
I am Natalka, the leader of the Lviv Playback Theater that emerged in the second year of the full-scale invasion. One third of our team are internally displaced persons. Our first performance in February 2023 was for a closed community of psychodramatists. An audience member shared a story about a trip with a drunken and aggressive soldier: respect for the Hero was mixed with fear. We played this story but felt confused – both on stage and in life. We didn’t know how to talk about the war, communicate with the military, or deal with shame and embarrassment. The conclusion was obvious – we needed new approaches and new skills. You have to start changes with yourself and your community. And through ourselves, through playback, we should teach society to react in a new way, to have the courage to speak up and not to keep silent about everything we live through.
I’m Alisa, a member of the Vakhtery Playback Theater for 9 years. Vakhtery is a company from Kharkiv that found itself on tour in Lithuania when the full-scale invasion began. Since February 24, 2022, we have been continuously performing for the community of Ukrainians and other interested people, with 80+ performances in 2022. We knew the techniques of working with vulnerable groups, and at that time we were a vulnerable group ourselves.
The question was how not to lose ourselves, how to survive in the storm of stories, how to balance between caring for the storyteller and providing a bright, skillful performance.
I am Ira, a Playback Theater practitioner. I have been living in Berlin since the spring of 2022. At one of the performances, a man told me how much he missed his daughter. She stayed in Ukraine and doesn’t want to leave. My heart ached, because now my father and brother are defending Ukraine, and I haven’t seen my father for three years. I could feel his pain intertwined with mine, and the playback became a space where we could share these feelings.
I’m Vero, a Playback Theater actress in the city of Odesa. During the war, playback became an island for us in a stormy ocean of uncertainty, where actors can recover and support each other, and then bring a warm light to their families and performance audiences. We gather for rehearsals under different circumstances: when our city has no heating and electricity after drone and missile strikes, under an air raid, flying drones, we continue to live and create in the midst of uncertainty, because playback is our language that we use to speak to society in this difficult time.
My name is Viktor, I am a part of the Kyiv Playback Theater NA VARTI, which actually emerged with the beginning of the full-scale invasion of the terrorist state into the territory of Ukraine, as a result of the merger of two theaters. I’ve been doing playback since 2018, but I have a feeling that I’m only now realizing its social significance. NA VARTI, works both independently and in cooperation with specialized public organizations, has worked and continues to work with internally displaced persons, emigrants and other socially vulnerable groups, each time facing the topic of loss and grief. I see the mission of all contemporary art in the search and comprehension of the meaning of existence in the conditions Ukraine and Ukrainians are now.
I am Oleksandr, and during the full-scale invasion I left Dnipro with my family for Lviv. During the performance of the basic course in Playback Theater, which was held at the Center for Assistance to Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs), we were visited by both invited guests and people who had taken refuge there. Both told stories. I was the conductor and realized the emotional and social gap between these people, the locals and the IDPs. And this is the present and, unfortunately, the future of Ukraine.
Logic and formalization of the research request
There is a whole area in playback that deals with traumatic stories and much has been written and said about it. But, as we have seen above, we are dealing not only with stories, but also with chronically traumatized viewers, actors, and society in general. Even when we are told something light, we cannot help but look at it through the prism of social and personal trauma.
It often happens that the audience reacts differently to the shocking experience of war. Sometimes we are immediately immersed in pain, and previous rituals are insufficient for working with wartime stories. New social skills are required from the conductor and actors to effectively lead the performance and work with difficult feelings and/or conflicts in the audience. The experience of living through war divides the world into black and white, and the audience watching and participating in the performance also has different points of view. The task of the playback in the new realities is to facilitate the experience, to testify, to manifest the truth.
The purpose of playback is to serve society. The circumstances in which we found ourselves raise a logical question: are our skills, rituals and training enough to be of service to such a traumatized environment, of which we are a part?
It was the search for an answer to this question that motivated various playback practitioners to come together to create a new playback that would be as useful and adapted to the current conditions of a traumatized society in which Ukrainians found themselves during the war.
How our work is organized
Eight people responded to the call to think about this challenge together: both Ukrainian playbackers who were forced to go abroad and now live in Germany, Lithuania, and Egypt, and those who live in different cities of Ukraine. Accordingly, each of the participants has experience of meeting traumatized audiences, and each of them has its own specifics, which is especially valuable in the research process.
First of all, it was important to build a space where we could freely and safely discuss sensitive issues related to trauma and death. At the first meeting, the following rules were proposed:
- All internal discussions are confidential
- The result belongs to all authors
- The result is freely distributed
- we are not obliged to reach a single result and agreement, and in fact, we may not reach it at all
- to take responsibility for participation and tasks.
The next important step was to structure the work. We met online every week to study different literature on death, trauma, or the experience of war in Ukraine and to find answers to four main questions:
- What do we change in the training of actors?
- What do we change in the process of conducting?
- What do we change in rituals?
- What do we change in the process of performance?
After a while, we accumulated enough experience and began to implement our realizations, insights, and experiments.
What we have come to
- Changes in actor training
The first and most important thing we started with was ourselves, as actors and leaders of playback theaters. We have to be ready to face our own traumas and the traumas of the society we serve. Given that “Playback Theater is not a substitute for therapy, neither for the participants nor for the audience” (Iryna), it is important for every actor to know themselves well and have enough support points both in their personal lives and during the performance.
Alisa emphasizes that actors should pay attention to the following aspects:
- What topics they find particularly difficult
- Explore themselves and build their support IN personal therapy
- Keep track of their physical, emotional and mental resources
- Have other places of support and care besides the theater
- Take on responsibilities relatable with the role of an actor
As Alice noted “Working with trauma offers even more honesty and structure to the work. This involves paying more attention to building trust between actors and personal stories, which requires a different focus during rehearsals.” Iryna adds that it is important to:
- Add exercises for working with the body, working in pairs, exploring their maximum physical strength, range of motion and intensity
- Work with boundaries, pay more attention to how each participant reacts to the stories, what is “too much” for them, and how to talk about it in the group.
Alisa also suggests:
- To further explore social topics that may appear in the performance: breaking news, local memes, holidays, etc
- Develop a base of grounding techniques and other methods of working with affective states
- Try to talk through conflicts between actors as much as possible
In addition, it is necessary to “Find appropriate forms for acting out traumatic stories and agree on what to do if an actor or several actors cannot act out a story either before the play starts or during the performance.” (Iryna).
Natalka emphasizes: “A regular and honest conversation within the theater company about how we live during the war cannot but lead to results. Many stories were told within the group about the loss of stability, normal life, inability to plan, constant lack of sleep due to night attacks, bad news from the front, separation from relatives, worries about friends and relatives at the front.” As a result, it became easier for the actors to talk about death, and they were willing to take more risks and go into traumatic stories. This manifested itself in invitations to perform in closed communities. For example, Natalka’s theater performed for teenagers who lost their parents at the front, and for teenagers who left the occupied territories. This is an interesting illustration of how the world responds to the internal readiness of actors to face difficult stories.
Wartime, constant stress and threats strongly polarize society, and, of course, we face this in playback performances. According to Viktor, another important area of training for actors is the ability to work with diametrically opposed attitudes to the same problems – for example, mobilization into the army or conscious avoidance of military service, support for the Defense Forces or life outside these realities. Preparing for such challenges is possible only through separate focused work of actors on a comprehensive study of different social positions that exist in contemporary Ukrainian society.
- The change in conducting
After the changes in actor training, the logical next step was to explore the conducting as the next important area that needs attention when performing for a traumatized society.
As Veronika noted, during the performance, the conductor “Creates a space of trust, remembering that the recognition of one’s own experience is in inexperience: ‘I don’t know, but I want to know’. He or she has the ability to hear not only verbal but also non-verbal signals, accepts uncertainty as a situation that has become the norm during the war, and looks for common ground and understanding with the audience and the storyteller.”
Alisa adds that it is important for the conductor to “Clearly and honestly communicate what we are doing, to talk more about the instructions and what will happen” and to pay enough attention to sociometry and audience analysis both during and before the performance.
Sasha emphasizes that “Certain groups should be legitimised, as long as they do not violate the basics of humanity, legislation and moral and ethical norms.” “This allows us to create a really safe space for both the audience and the actors, who may also need a moment to adapt,” adds Iryna.
The performance may well include stories about death and loss. The attitude of the conductor is especially important here. Alisa outlines the basic principles that help to work with such topics:
- Death is an important part of life
- It is possible to discuss death here
- Performance is a place where you can publicly express your grief
- The pain of loss is the only way to perpetuate the love we do not want to give up
It is also important for us to note that Playback Theater is not therapy, and we do not save the narrator. As Alisa notes, “If the narrator has already reached the chair, he has already survived. It is important to share responsibility between the actors, the host and the audience.”
In addition, while discussing the requirements for a conductor, Sasha raised an important question about the need to master techniques for working with affective states of both an individual and a group. A conductor should understand what to do if emotional chaos starts in the audience. In such cases, you can use breathing practices and practices of returning to the body.
3. New forms of playback
Each theater has its own traditions and approach to performance. This also applies to performing in a traumatized society. For some time, we have been looking for common guidelines and approaches that would be accessible to different theaters, despite their diverse experience of stage expression.
Music became such a unifying basis. As Natalka notes: “Music helps a lot. If it’s really hard, music can be played solo.” Natalka also describes her experience of using musical forms when acting out very difficult and traumatic stories: “Music helped us a lot at the beginning of the journey, when we could not really live through emotions. The form of Sounding, when a musician plays an improvised melody, and the actors simply sound in response to the story and experience sadness and grief through sound. We noticed that people in the audience responded to this, and they also began to sound, which relieves their tension and unites the process of living grief even more.” Alisa adds that “The conductor can ask a musician to play for 2-3 minutes if the story was too difficult.”
We also came to a common decision about the importance of avoiding creating illusory pictures of a happy ending and looking for a psychological resource in the cohesion of images, within the story and the personality of the narrator.
Veronika’s theater has invented a new form of The Call/POKLYK in which actors play a smell, image (metaphor), sound, and/or taste that were in the story. This makes it possible to gently touch the complex experiences that were told by the narrator.
Another example of a new form is Prayer created by colleagues from the UZ Station Theater, specifically for working with traumatic stories. It is intended for performing deeply emotional stories that have no ending that is known at the moment. For example, a wife’s story about her husband, a soldier, who is in enemy captivity. The essence of the form is that each actor consistently addresses an image, archetype, God or gods, patron saint, etc., chosen by him or her based on the story itself.
- Change in rituals
Finally, it is important to talk about the changes that have taken place in the rituals of our theaters.
The experience of the Natalka Theater, which introduced an online questionnaire to invite viewers, is interesting. This allowed us to conduct a preliminary sociometry, to understand better who is present in the audience, and, accordingly, to prepare more thoroughly for the performance. The most significant changes, however, concern the end of the performance. As Viktor notes, “Some viewers find it difficult to be alone with the experience after the performance.” To help them integrate this experience, theaters offer different methods of living with it:
- A joint tea party after the performance
- A sharing session after the performance, where everyone is invited to return to the theater and talk about the experience
- Written feedback. The Natalka Theater puts a box with sheets of paper and pens, so that anyone can write down all their feelings after the performance
Instead of a conclusion
We feel that we are only at the beginning of the path to a deeper understanding of how to work with a traumatized society and what role Playback Theater can play in this. Time preparing for complex performances has decreased. Life has taught us to live amidst stress and trauma, so we move faster. As Natalia notes: “Every rehearsal is a preparation for the play of traumatic stories.”
In the process of performing in a traumatized society, we not only look for new forms and approaches, but also reconsider our own boundaries, responsibilities, and sense of security. Both as ordinary people and as actors, condensers, theater leaders, and spectators. The experience of working in international teams and performing in different contexts sharpens important questions:
- How to create a space where everyone can be heard?
- How to support each other in situations that may go beyond our usual emotional endurance?
“One of our performances in Berlin was in a mixed Ukrainian-German team in English. Before we started, we talked about privilege, because not all the actors had war experience. During the performance, one of the audience members asked to tell a story in Ukrainian, and it was the story of a woman who fled the war with her child, who still shudders at loud noises. During the performance, an actor accidentally hit me hard on the head. I was confused and didn’t know what to do, but I turned the pain into movement, into voice, into action. The performance ended successfully, but it was important for me to take care of myself and him. We talked about the historical memory of Germany, the difficulty of living with aggression and responsibility for the actions of previous generations. Still, after that, my cheekbone hurt for several days and, unfortunately, I did not receive the support I needed from the team.
I remember that performance not only because of the hit, but also because of an inner shift. True healing is only possible where there is space for pain, where it is not rejected or justified, but accepted as part of a shared experience. Where it is possible to meet reality, to endure it, to live it and to transform it. This made me think even more deeply about the role of Playback Theater as a space not only for telling stories, but also for teaching society to react, act, and support each other in difficult moments.” Iryna.
I Cannot Play Your Story Back: Limitations of Playback Theater During Wartime
By Nataliia Vainilovych
Introduction
Early April 2022, Kyiv. The suburbs are still under occupation. I work in the bathroom, because at home it is the safest place. I regularly hear gunshots, air defense explosions, and artillery under my windows. One day, a colleague from another country invited me to an online playback performance dedicated to supporting Ukrainians. I appeared on Zoom and the conductor invited me to tell a story. And I told her my story. About air raid alerts, about explosions, about how empty Kyiv was, about my fears. They listened to me carefully. And then the actors, an experienced team, started playing. It was aesthetic, plastic, very well-established interaction, music. In places, there was too much drama for me, but not critical. A moment later, a sharp sound of an explosion burst from the screen – one of the actresses was so expressive that she hit the floor with the chair several times and shouted something loudly. I jumped up: my heart was pounding. I couldn’t take in anything anymore, and it took me a while to come to my senses.
Ethics …
I believe all Playback Theatre practitioners are familiar with the Code of Ethics of Playback Trainers and Practitioners, one of the points of which reminds us: “We are open to any story and also ready engage with ethical complexities within a story”. In practice, this is not the first time that there arises the question of the ability to be so open. Always and everywhere. Under any conditions.
Nick Rowe, Professor of Arts and Mental Health, Playback Theatre practitioner, questions the ability of an actor to be so universal as to perceive a story with minimal influence of ideology, culture, personal prejudices, etc. After all, playing a teller with a very different experience (ethnicity, gender, etc.), the actor faces certain limitations in reflecting the story deeply and truthfully (Rowe, 2007). The extent to which we develop in different cultures can make it impossible to understand the contexts of tellers.
War stories
The differences in experience and the sharpness of perception of stories are further exacerbated by war, when life is filled with constant stress, when every day you do not know whether a missile will hit your house, when the body freezes the fears and anxiety so that the mind can continue to work and adapt to the conditions of endless uncertainty. More trigger topics arise that instantly ignite people into arguments, intensify conflicts. In the context of the war in Ukraine, these are topics about everything related to Russia, its culture and language, which once replaced the Ukrainian language; these are topics about internally displaced persons, for whom full-fledged conditions for successful integration in new cities have not been created, and the attitude of locals is sometimes based on prejudices and stereotypes; these are topics about death, constant losses at the front or during shelling; and there is a certain split between civilians and military personnel, especially men, as well as those who have left abroad since the start of the full-scale invasion (February 24, 2022) and those who have remained in Ukraine. These and other acute topics create tension and misunderstanding not only at the political level, but especially in communication and in families, in the company of friends, colleagues, and simply in public places.
Stories that are heard during a Playback Theatre performance during the war, more often than not, contain complex, trigger themes that are difficult not only to play, but even to listen to. Because a lot of personal and/or social pain is instantly activated and this becomes a threat that the playback of the story will be distorted, or that psychological harm will be caused to the actors, the audience, and the conductor.
(ROOF) Kyiv, 2024. Photographer – Oleksii Korolev
For example
One such case occurred in April 2023, when I found it difficult to remain impartial while conducting a public performance. The story was told by a woman aged 55 plus. She is an ethnic Russian, has lived in Ukraine for more than 20 years, and it is difficult and incomprehensible for her to learn the Ukrainian language. She grew up on Russian culture and now suffers from being canceled everywhere. I caught myself wanting to ask a question with a very sarcastic tone, “So why do you live in this country, in Ukraine? If you like Russian so much, then go home already!” But I paused, looked into the space, and exhaled. The audience was a little tense, but they were OK, and so were the actors. I shifted the questions, as always, to the personal domain, to her experiences, because it is easier to meet a person in a place of feelings.
Another example. A public performance in the fall of 2024. Several stories in a row about the deaths of people at the front. One of the tellers is a soldier who lost a friend. He was speaking and crying. The entire hall fell silent, many wiped away tears. My inner conductor container works well, although I know that it is already full. I remember how in 2014, when I was just starting to conduct, and the war had just begun in Ukraine, we were invited with a young Playback Theater company to a project on the socio-psychological rehabilitation of internally displaced persons. People had just moved from Crimea, Luhansk and Donetsk regions. Confused, tired. Each, every story was sharp and ruthless, like a sharpened hunting knife: loss of home, hopelessness, the streets of Lviv, which are hellishly similar to Crimean ones, a split in families. During the performance, participants left the hall, sobbing, and psychologists walked with them to provide support. Everyone came back, because it was important to both tell and hear. One of the actresses was in tears somewhere around the fifth story, in which the teller recalled the balcony of her childhood and the joy of confetti flying from that balcony. I then asked the actress not to act out this story and she left to get herself together. She then came back and finished the performance. And I held on through the entire performance and thought that everything was fine with me. But right after it ended, when we started to leave the room, I exploded: I sobbed uncontrollably, tears flowed like a river, my heart was pounding. The actors formed a tight circle around me and hugged me until I calmed down.
(ROOF) Kyiv, 2024. Photographer – Oleksii Korolev
Another experience, this time from when I was an actress. Spring 2024. An open performance, there were military personnel, internally displaced persons, and volunteers in the hall. The story was almost at the end of the performance. A girl, about 20 years old. Before her was a story from a volunteer who was giving up because the process of raising money for the frontline was going very slowly: guys and ladies wait for months for first-aid kits, special equipment, and sometimes warm clothes (for reference, donating to the military cause has already become a habit for many Ukrainians, and for some, an obligation). So the young girl began her story with the question “Why donate?” It seemed that the string of tension had stretched to the point of impossibility that no one moved. Several soldiers covered their faces with their hands (facepalm). A curtain fell on my ears, I could not understand how such a thought could sound here, how such a thing could even be uttered publicly. Later in the story, there were statements about the inexpediency of learning the Ukrainian language (the teller spoke difficult Ukrainian, switching to Russian), about her acquaintances not giving her peace, burdening her with the problems of the war, when she could simply live as before. I didn’t want to play this story. That’s all. I knew that my colleagues on stage were also doing their best not to leave the stage. I stayed, like the other actresses. So, we looked at the conductor with hope, because a lot depended on the form, whether we would be able to play the story in such a way as to not denigrate the dignity of the teller and to be able choose the right words for the heart of the story, so that the audience could watch it. So the metaphorical form chosen by the conductor was very appropriate, where four stories expressed tension, resistance, anger, pain, and powerlessness on a symbolic level.
(ROOF) Kyiv, 2024. Photographer – Oleksii Korolev
Final thoughts
In addition to stories with difficult ethical complexity, war requires actors to be even more sensitive to the means of artistic expression, to the context, to themselves. We have become more alert to loud sounds that imitate\resemble explosions or an air raid siren. We discuss a lot in the community about humanizing antagonists, knowing that under certain conditions some characters of the story will not even be able to appear on stage, let alone be humanized (of course, this has always been the case, for example, with fresh stories about violence we will not humanize the rapist, it’s just that now there are more such characters). We test ourselves in rehearsals, bringing our own pains and experiences to our teams, keeping the framework of Playback Theater so that rehearsals do not turn into therapy sessions (and therefore the need for personal therapy has become almost a prerequisite for common sense and a prerequisite for flexibility and creative spontaneity).
So can we play any story? For myself, I have concluded that the answer is probably not, because taking into account local circumstances, the condition and training of the actors, the specifics of the audience, political processes, listening to and playing some stories can do more harm than good; because they have a high risk of becoming a divisive factor. At the same time, life during war (in a country with hostilities, or just working with the audience with this topic) requires careful preparation for meeting stories about the consequences of war.
In our community, some Playback Theatre practitioners believe that the main thing is to listen carefully and trust the inner feeling of resonance with the story, even if it seems far from one’s own experience, even if it goes against personal values and beliefs, even if it triggers (because we need to learn to cope with this and be more resilient, because we are playbackers). Others decide for their theater that they will not play certain themes or work with a certain audience because it is unacceptable for them at this time.
War particularly exacerbates this dilemma. On the one hand, the audience may need to talk about the darkest sides of reality: stories of loss, violence, occupation, the use of anti-Ukrainian slogans. But does this mean that Playback Theater actors should be ready to play them at any cost? Where is the line drawn between empathy and intrusion into someone else’s pain, between the desire to give voice to the story and the risk of simplifying or distorting it? The answer seems to lie not in a universal solution for the entire community, but in constant balancing between honesty to the storyteller, responsibility to the audience, and care for one’s own resources.
References
Code of Ethics for Playback Theatre Trainers and Practitioners //playbackcentre.org/resources/code-of-ethics/
Rowe, N. (2007) Chapter 9, The ethical limitations of playback performing. Playing the Other: Dramatizing Personal Narratives in Playback Theatre. Jessica Kingsley
About the author
Artist, performer, educator. Accredited trainer of Playback Theatre by the Center for Playback Theatre (New York), co-founder and Board member of the Ukrainian School of Playback Theatre, Head of non-government organization ART-PLAYBACK, leader of Kyiv playback-company Na Varti (On a Guard), lecturer of the Faculty of Sociology and Law in National Technical University of Ukraine Igor Sikorsky Kyiv Polytechnic Institute.
Acknowledgement
Translated by Mariia Isakova
How did the Ukrainian School of Playback Theatre’s Mission Change During the War?
By Andrii Utenkov
During the pandemic, we created a certain formula for our mission that we relied on before the full-scale invasion:
To create the conditions for every person and their story to be heard in a space of creative dialogic process of presence that heals and unites.
If you look at it attentively, you can see the following elements:
- An inclusive space of dialog
- The value of a person and their story
- Creative realization and aesthetic action
- Co-presence
- Healing
- Uniting
All of this remains important now, because it is based on the main spheres that Playback Theater integrates:
- Acting: Playfulness, Liveliness, Energy, Productivity, Creation, Joy
- Uniting: Honesty, Trust, Sincerity, Connection, Gratitude, Communication
- Healing: Consciousness, Wisdom, Balance, Resilience, Independence, Awareness, Responsibility, Realism
However, something has changed. And it is this:
First, the relocation and emigration of people and theaters. Many groups (about 40 across the country) broke up or went on pause. Some lasted for a while but eventually stopped existing.
Secondly, relevance. It was a test of authenticity. Is Playback Theater really so important to the participants that they will continue to do it despite the explosions, no electricity, sometimes no money, polarization of opinions and positions, uncertain future prospects, and constant chronic stress and exhaustion?
And the playbackers continued. The Ukrainian Playback Festival in August 2022 gathered about 50 people, and in July 2023 and 2024 – about 120. First, national teams began to appear in cities, then joint jams and new theaters, emigrants found small groups and ran studios, some of them even doing it alone in their new city or country.
In addition, the Ukrainian School of Playback Theater has held a Company Leaders course and Coaching courses two times. That is, we have about 17 newly educated coaches and leaders of theaters and groups.
What is it exactly about this method of transformative theater that makes sense for people during the war?
- Correction: This is recovery through relationships and interaction with other people in a safe and accepting social space.
- Self-regulation and stress management: This is an opportunity to balance your condition through exercise.
- Awareness: This is an opportunity to feel and understand what is happening to me during this difficult time.
- Self-esteem: When I am heard, it gives me a sense of value for my life and myself.
- Development and Transformation: Through telling, listening and playing stories, I learn to look at the world more widely. I see points where I need to be more attentive and find new solutions in difficult situations.
- Practice staying in uncertainty: During playback rehearsals, through games and spontaneous processes, I have the opportunity to stay in the space of tolerable uncertainty and gain resources for better tolerance of complexity.
- Encounter with beauty: When I listen to stories, I often see the beauty of the life path of another person. This gives me a deep exhale and faith that the world is not just chaotic, but it moves in a beautiful harmonious order.
- Touch and a sense of security: provide important hormones for recovery and calm existence in a chaotic world.
- The meaning of being useful to the country, people and the world: Playback Theater is an act of service. We go on stage to serve the society and communities. We make it possible for people to hear each other deeply and feel connected.
These are just a few of the main value pillars that are now not just a luxury and entertainment, but an effective, useful and enjoyable way to deal with the war with a healthy mind, a conscious body and loved ones by our side.
Our Mission now is this:
- To train, develop and support playbackers and playback teams.
- Promote the expansion of playback in various Ukrainian communities.
- We want Ukrainian communities to be safe and inclusive. Relationships in them are based on trust, mutual respect and inspiration.
In our opinion, we believe that while Playback Theater is not the only means, it plays a significant role in this work.
We do not know what will happen next.
We continue.
Let’s watch!
About the author
Andrii Utenkov is the co-founder and trainer of the Ukrainian School of Playback Theatre. He is the host and founder of the Spontaneous Dance practice. A psychologist and body-oriented therapist, actor, performer, lecturer, and organizer of festivals and supportive events.
Playback Theatre in Exile: Challenges and Insights from Working with Refugees
By Olena Kalashnykova
How Ukrainian playback practitioners rebuilt their work abroad
Playback Theatre has always been a powerful tool for storytelling, healing, and social transformation. In times of crisis – especially for people forced into exile – it becomes more than an artistic practice; it becomes a means of survival, a way to rebuild community, process trauma, and reclaim one’s identity.
For Ukrainian playback practitioners, the war not only meant losing their homes but also losing their artistic and social networks. Many found themselves alone in unfamiliar environments, forced to rebuild their playback work from scratch. This article explores how displaced Ukrainian playback artists established new studios, developed projects, and integrated into international networks.
Bridges: Playback Theatre for Minority Adaptation project supported by Perform Europe. A
combined acting team.
Ukrainian playback beyond borders: The challenge of starting over
When the war began, Ukrainian playback practitioners were scattered across different countries, facing the daunting reality of starting over from nothing. Unlike traditional theatre, playback relies on deep local connections, shared cultural references, and long-term ensemble work. Forced displacement shattered these foundations. One exception was the Playback Theatre Vakhtery, which managed to relocate as an intact group and continue working in Lithuania. However, most other practitioners had to start from scratch, forming new studios and communities wherever they found themselves.
Key developments among Ukrainian playback practitioners in exile
Solo Playback Work: Some practitioners adapted their work for solo performances.
New Playback Studios: Ukrainian refugees in different countries formed new playback groups – some as support spaces for fellow refugees, others evolving into fully functioning theatre ensembles that perform for both Ukrainian and local audiences.
Playback became more than just an artistic practice – it became a tool for survival, a means for refugees to find belonging in foreign lands.
Initiatives & Events
Ukrainian International Playback Festival in Poland
One of the most significant recent events for displaced Ukrainian playback artists was the Ukrainian International Playback Festival held in Niechorze, Poland, on September 20 – 22, 2024. This festival brought together 82 participants from over 14 different countries, including 5 performances and 10 master classes.
Key takeaways from the Festival:
- Emotional Impact: The festival sparked deep emotional resonance, highlighting the psychological impact of war and exile.
- Strengthening Community: For many practitioners, the festival was a crucial moment of reconnection after being separated by war.
- Commitment to Sustainability: Discussions focused on how to maintain playback work in conditions of displacement.
Playback in Lithuania: Theatre as a tool for refugee integration
Since 2022, Lithuania has become a hub for Ukrainian Playback Theatre initiatives, thanks to the continued fantastic work of the Playback Theatre collective Vakhtery in collaboration with other practitioners of numerous grant-funded projects supporting refugee integration through performance. During this time, more than 10 grant projects were implemented, as well as many volunteer events.
Grant-Funded Projects in Lithuania
Some of the most impactful projects include:
- Integration Initiatives for Ukrainians in Vilnius through Playback Theater. June – November 2022
Description: Organized 10 Playback Theater performances and a tea evening for refugees from Ukraine.
- At the Crossroads of Cultures: Integration of Ukrainians into Lithuanian Cultural Life. April – July 2023
Description: Series of five performances promoting the integration of Ukrainians into Lithuanian cultural life and history.
- Integration of Ukrainians in Vilnius through Playback Theater and Tea Parties. September 2023 – May 2024
Organized five playback performances by the Vakhtery group and a tea party for refugees from Ukraine, with special attention to women and children.
- Cultural Integration through Language and Arts. October – December 2024
Description: Supporting language integration through theatre methods.
- Cultural Centers with Ukraine. February 2022 – May 2022
Description: Series of 12 performances in cultural centers of small Lithuanian towns aimed at providing emotional support to Ukrainian refugees and fostering community integration.
Key lessons from the Lithuanian experience: Cultural, ethical, and political challenges
While Playback Theatre’s core principles are universal, its application in refugee contexts requires adaptation.
Language as a political choice
Playback performances in Lithuania were conducted in Ukrainian, English, and Lithuanian, deliberately avoiding Russian. For many Ukrainians, the Russian language is now a source of psychological distress and political tension, making its exclusion a necessary boundary rather than a neutral choice.
Ethical challenges: Playback in a context of war
Playback does not exist in a vacuum, and war creates highly sensitive ethical dilemmas. In one performance, a woman expressed frustration at not being able to sell her Moscow apartment profitably because of the economic crisis – while two actresses on stage lost their homes to Russian missile strikes. Such moments underscore the need for:
- Trauma-informed facilitation: Practitioners must be prepared to navigate deep emotional tensions and protect performers and audiences from unintended harm.
- Clear ethical boundaries: Not every story can or should be played back. The right to refuse a story when it risks retraumatizing others is essential.
- Positioning and inclusion: Defining playback’s role in a war context.
Given the war’s political and emotional sensitivities, clear event structures were necessary:
- Separate events for Ukrainian refugees and mixed audiences: Some spaces needed to be exclusively for Ukrainians, providing a safe environment free from external political debates. Other performances were opened to Lithuanians and international audiences, fostering cultural exchange and broader understanding.
- Exclusion of Russian-affiliated organizations: A firm stance was taken to avoid collaboration with organizations that supported Russian narratives, ensuring alignment with the ethical position of displaced Ukrainians.
Perform Europe: Playback as a bridge between communities
One of the most ambitious current projects is Perform Europe’s Echoes of Identity, which brings together Playback Theatres from Lithuania, Germany, and Ukraine to explore migration, belonging, and integration through performance.
Project Highlights
- 4 performances so far, in Vilnius, Hamburg, Leipzig, and Berlin.
- 250+ audience members engaged.
- 35+ stories shared on identity, adaptation, and exile.
- Partnerships with cultural organizations supporting displaced artists.
Next Steps
- Expanding to more cities across Europe with a final tour in Ukraine.
- Analyzing stories for further research on art and integration.
The Bigger picture: Playback and forced displacement worldwide
The experience of Ukrainian playback practitioners is not an isolated case. Around the world, artists are forced into exile due to war, political oppression, and economic instability. Playback Theatre has enormous potential as a global tool for psychosocial support in crisis situations—but it needs stronger institutional backing.
How the Global Playback Community can support Displaced Practitioners
- Creating solidarity networks – a structured international support system for playback artists in exile, supporting displaced practitioners.
- Develop Funding Pathways – playback needs to be formally recognized in NGOs, refugee agencies, and cultural organizations, playback can be integrated into mental health and humanitarian programs.
- Prioritize Ethical Training – trauma-informed playback facilitation must become a core part of training.
- More research and documentation is needed to strengthen playback’s role in crisis response.
Conclusion & Recommendations
Playback Theatre has proven itself as a vital tool in refugee adaptation, healing, and integration. However, challenges remain—from funding sustainability to ethical facilitation.
For Ukrainian playback practitioners in exile, storytelling has become an act of resilience and survival.
Playback knows no borders – and as long as there are stories to be told, it will find a way to exist.
About the author
Lena Kalashnykova is an Accredited trainer of Playback Theater (Center for Playback Theatre, New York). Co-founder and member of the board of the Ukrainian Playback Theater School. Co-founder, actress, conductor and leader of Playback Theater Vakhtery.
Vice President of NUKC Prosperis. She has more than 17 years of practice in psychology and sciences and more than 11 years of work in Playback Theater and social arts.
50th Birthday Postcards
Playback Marches On: Reflecting on the First 50 Years
By Hannah K. Fox
Playback Theatre (PT) was like a third sibling growing up with us in our living room. I was four years old when it came into being and it has always felt like myself, my sister, Maddy, and playback. In those formative first 10 years, PT required a lot of attention and psychic focus, especially from my dad, who could easily drift off into space when we asked him a simple question, like could he take us to Dunkin’ Donuts, or did he want to play Monopoly. His reply could take several minutes, which would frustrate us to no end. He was with us, but also elsewhere, in creation concentration mode, which a brand new theatre technique (“a new ritual for our time”; Fox, 1999) demands. My mother, too, was very busy — with not only raising us but also with the myriad details involved in getting an innovative theatre company up and running. In addition to being an actor and musician in the company, she was responsible for the posters, logo design (the string of dancers holding hands that many companies use today), the resident seamstress and costume designer, copy writer, main support system of the director, among other tasks. Maddy and I had regular babysitters but we also got to be part of the scene. The first Playback Theatre company, located in upstate NY, was a tribe of artists that rehearsed, created, performed and hung together out on weekends together, and the kids were an integral part of the landscape.
Now, 50 years later, the tribe has grown and spread across 75 countries. It has been quite something to watch the humble seeds of playback grow and bloom into something so far-reaching, multi-faceted, and impactful.
Original Vision
In a piece I wrote for the IPTN journal 25 years ago, entitled, The Beginnings: Reflecting on 25 years of Playback Theatre link, I interviewed three of the founding members of the original Playback Theatre company – my father, Jonathan Fox, my mother, Jo Salas, and Judy Swallow – I asked them this question: What was the original vision for Playback Theatre?
Jonathan: To recapture that kind of ceremonial enactment in which there is no distinction between art and healing.
Jo: To offer ordinary people a place to see and celebrate and explore their stories. To use creativity and art to pay attention to unheard voices and to bring people together.
Judy: That personal stories are political, that accepting where audience members are in the moment is essential, that there must be an atmosphere of respect for everyone’s story, and that anyone could be an actor and a storyteller in this mode of action communication.
From my vantage point, I would say this collective vision still holds true today and the foundational tenets of playback are intact. How has PT stood the test of time (five decades so far!) and, in fact, thrived in a multi-cultural international setting? I think part of it is that it functions as an oral tradition form in which cultural and societal knowledge is preserved through artful physical storytelling. It is an effective and unique way to capture and document important life moments. But even deeper than that, I believe that playback works –then and now, here where I live and all the way over there you live—because it invites people, often strangers, to be vulnerable with each other, which in turn builds a community bond (or communitas a termed coined by the anthropologist Victor Turner). It allows ordinary folks not feel so alone with their struggles, their oppression, their joy. There is also a kind of humility baked into the form. Because it is improvisation and the play we offer the audience is unscripted, it is imperfect and inevitably there will be missed or flat moments. This adds to Playback Theatre’s rawness and authenticity and power. The spontaneous vulnerability that is an integral part of the PT ritual, coupled with the performative aspect, is what makes the PT method unique and why I believe it continues to have a lasting effect and hold value.
Flexibility
Of course, like the fabric we use on stage, the PT method has needed to stretch and adapt to different communities and global events. The playback ritual is flexible so it can shift and adjust to fit different cultural needs and perspectives; each country and company has its own rhythm and style. When the Covid-19 pandemic hit the world, many of us pivoted quite quickly (playback people are nimble, after all) and created a new kind of Playback Theatre—Online Playback, which is an adaptation of the original design with key differences to the original method, but it holds the same basic premise: audience members tell stories from their lives and a team of performers acts them out on the spot. The listening, witnessing and honoring of personal stories that are present in a live show is equally possible in a virtual space.
International conferences are another time we stretch. There is now often not enough room for every applicant and some people have to be turned away. The selection process can be tricky. What happens when we are not inclusive in PT and can’t stretch the fabric wide enough to fit everyone? For the 300 people who gather from 40 countries, is it possible to have a meaningful conversation through action when there are so many people, workshops, performances, and national, political and artistic points of view? Inevitably there will be missed cues and misunderstandings with such a large multi-cultural group. These big conferences seem important and necessary but always feel quite overwhelming and overstimulating to me personally and it is hard to find time for a quality connection. The regional gatherings have fewer people and are more manageable logistically, allowing for more people to be seen and heard, but it is rich to be watching and learning Playback Theatre with folks from around the globe, which is the case with the larger conferences…but how do we all fit under the fabric now that we are such a big community?
Ripped at the Seams
What happens when the fabric breaks and rips? Playback used to be much more locally focused. We each served our own towns and neighborhoods. In the advent of globalism, it is now common for a playback company or practitioner to cross borders and offer playback workshops and performances to communities outside their own. Outside groups or trainers can inadvertently step on the toes of local groups and teachers. The etiquette around performing in a community (city, region) outside of your own used to be clearer pre-Covid, but now that there are several international playback companies, both online and in person, these boundaries become more blurry. More than ever, communication and a gesture of collaboration is key, and when it is overlooked tensions can brew.
The biggest tear (both senses of the word) has been to witness the fissure in the international PT community when countries are at war, with practitioners on opposite sides. It has been hard to accept the reality that the playback method has had little success so far in creating the careful listening space needed for healing and understanding to take place. In a world full of divisiveness, hate, violence, oppression, and exclusion, it has been a source of deep pain that we (we who are committed to dialogue, fairness, conflict resolution and restorative justice) have not been able to figure out how to heal the divide in our own community, let alone the ones we serve.
In the Leadership course last year, in Hyderabad, India, I caught a glimpse that this kind of healing might be possible. We were in a small group working on long-form Story. When I asked who had a story (we had time for only one), two students raised their hands—men from opposite sides of the war, I happened to know. They generously invited the other to tell and one of them sat down in the teller’s chair and ended up casting the other to be the teller’s actor in his story. I was sitting in the front row, and I remember feeling my heart rate go up as I knew unspoken tension–between these two people and within the group–was already high; the elephant had been in the room without question. This was the first week and the group was still getting to know one another and building trust.
The teller told his personal experience of the war from his side, which the teller’s actor honored artfully and with care, stepping out of his own perspective and feelings into the shoes of someone else’s lived experience. I was impressed that the teller chose the person in the room who clearly held different political point of view to his own to play him, and I was moved by how the teller’s actor presumably dug deep to honor the story and find empathy. The teller was moved by the enactment and shared in the check back interview that he felt both seen and heard. Afterward, the two men embraced. I let out an audible exhale and was moved to tears myself at what I had just witnessed. Here was a seed of possibility–that compassionate listening, healing, and the use of playback itself can in fact be effective across political divides in times of active war.
The Next 50
As we march on into the next 50 years, it is hard to know what lies ahead for Playback Theatre. I have three hopes. I hope that we, the members of our own community, can figure out how to address conflict when it comes up and find a way to stay in the room together (literally, or at least figuratively as I know it is against the law for some people) and listen–we are listening specialists, after all! This requires all of us to do the investigative work to recognize our own racial, class, national privilege and, take accountability when necessary. This may mean listening more than speaking sometimes and moving over so that a more marginalized member of our community can be seen and heard. This also means that we try not to cancel each other and realize that there is a difference between personal power and societal power, that we are people under the rule of presidents and prime ministers whom we often stand against and not with.
My second wish is that folks both new to playback and seasoned practitioners commit to proper training of the PT technique from the foundational course, Core Training (Level 1), through the capstone course, Leadership (Level 4). It seems, since Covid, that people are less inclined and would rather take shortcuts. For instance, taking a one day workshop in playback does not give someone enough of a knowledge base to practice the form (let alone teach it, which some people do). Playback Theatre takes years to learn: the ritual, the forms, how to be an ensemble actor, becoming comfortable with spontaneous and improvisational performance, how to handle the complex role of the Conductor with confidence, how to form and maintain a playback company, how to use playback effectively for social change, playback with corporations, etc. If we don’t invest enough time in training, we can easily mishandle the ritual and cause harm to our audiences.
As we move into our 51st year, my third wish, connected to the second, is that playback practitioners know the roots of tree, not only the branches. As I travel around the globe and teach, I am surprised at how many trained PT companies don’t know how to perform Fluid Sculptures and Pairs (two of the classic forms), and even more alarming, that many playback companies do not practice the long form, Stories. Fluid Sculptures, Pairs and Stories (back in the day called, Scenes) were the three original forms—there were only three! Now there are dozens. Do we need so many? Before discarding these classic forms completely, I hope folks learn them and understand their purpose, how they serve the arc of the performance, and then innovate if/as needed. Otherwise, without a trunk and roots, tree branches have no support and are no longer connected to anything.
Family
A few years ago, the New York School of Playback Theatre hosted a gathering of the original Playback Theatre company members as part of our summer program. They are all in their seventies and eighties now and few of them have passed on, but several of them showed up and reentered the playback space after all these decades. It was deeply heartwarming to see the gang back together, frailer and moving slower, but each one of them still with a twinkle in their eye. They were so happy to see each other again! Playback is theatre, of course, it is improvisational performance, healing art and social activism, but deep down it is about family and a chosen tribe of people who you walk through life with. Ultimately, playback is about human connection and solidarity.
For me, playback has been a chosen tribe, but also my family of origin. This brings things in very close – sometimes too close for comfort. It is not always easy to share my parents with the world and feel under a spotlight. My parents and I have struggled with how to work together as a team, but also separate as individual playback teachers and practitioners. Anonymity is impossible. This is something I know I will continue to dance with and ultimately hope to embrace.
In the original article, when I asked my mom, dad and Judy, What is a personal hope for Playback Theatre?, this was their reply:
Jonathan: That the name becomes famous because it is being used everywhere!
Jo: That we retain our adventurousness and courage, while holding the compass to the essence of what playback is…
Judy: That people of different races, cultures, ages, sexual orientations can work together to create PT companies where people can trust that no matter how different they are from each other, they will be heard and respected. If this happens with the companies, this atmosphere will translate to the audiences.
March on, Playback Theatre! The world needs you more than ever.
References
Fox, J. (1999). Gathering Voices: Essays on Playback Theatre, New Paltz: Tusitala Publishing
About the author
Hannah Fox, M.A., APTT, RYT 500, is an international Playback Theatre trainer, co-director of the New York School of Playback Theatre and founder of Pangea Playback Theatre, a multicultural professional Playback Theatre company. Throughout her career, Hannah has had a special interest in using dance and movement in her playback and performance work, as well as using PT as a tool for promoting social justice. Hannah is the daughter of the founders of Playback Theatre, and author of Zoomy Zoomy: Improv Games and Exercises for Groups, as well as numerous other scholarly publications about Playback Theatre. Hannah’s favorite point of view is when she is upside-down.
Progress of the School of Playback Theatre Japan
By Aki Komori
When the School of Playback Theatre Japan (SPTJ) began, I was 18 years old and in my first year of university. I was not yet involved in Playback Theatre (PT) and was just looking forward to interacting with Jonathan Fox, who would come to Japan from the U.S. to stay at our house from time to time. Jonathan did not give off any flashy vibe, and other than his appearance, he seemed to fit in rather naturally with the atmosphere in Japan. My mother, Kayo Munakata, had started a school in Japan with Jonathan as her representative. Jonathan seemed to prefer to stay at a local’s house rather than in a hotel. The days at our house before and after the school courses were an extraordinary time for me.
Two years later, I joined a PT company, Playback AZ. And now I teach PT at the school. I believe that the creation and development of SPTJ was due to the ongoing passion for PT and administrative capability of Kayo, the director of SPTJ. Jonathan mentioned that, ‘Kayo’s organizational acumen, combined with the Japanese commitment to education, meant full classes. Kayo is a superb businesswoman’ (Fox, 2015) in his book. And now, 27 years after the school began, I am fortunate and grateful to be involved as one of its faculties. In this article, I will share with you the history of the SPTJ and the innovations involved in maintaining and operating the school. I hope it will be of help to you as you explore the development of PT and the promotion of training in your area.
History of the School of Playback Theatre Japan
SPTJ started in 1998. This was five years after the School of Playback Theatre in New York started in 1993. Last year saw the birth of its seventh class of 14 leadership graduates; as of April 2025, there are 96 graduates in Japan. SPTJ is a sister school of the Centre for Playback Theatre, and teaches from Level 1 Core Training to Level 4 Leadership, followed by Level 5 Trainer’s training.
- Beginnings
From the mid-1980s through the 1990s, Jonathan Fox was invited annually to Japan by the Research and Consultation Center for Social Growth (R&C) to teach weekend PT workshops for beginners. In his book, he recalls that time as follows.
‘For many years I approached these short, introductory workshops in a spirit of having to prove something. I used all my energy to enthuse and impart. But how far, in fact, could one get in a weekend? One could teach this form or that, but in so short a time to get the essence of playback experience across was an uncertain proposition. … On my annual trips to Japan for R&C, I eventually abandoned my effort to ‘teach playback’ and accepted my task of providing a fun, engaging personal development workshop’ (Fox, 2015).
It seems to have been a period that fostered a sense of inadequacy, both for Jonathan and for participants who were seriously interested in doing PT. After such a period, several Japanese people joined the school in New York and began to learn PT. On the other hand, there were a certain number of people in Japan, with its small population of English speakers, who wanted to learn PT but were unable to do so in the United States. Kayo Munakata and others wanted to create a place for Japanese people to learn PT and to make it available in Japan, and SPTJ was born in 1998. Currently, there is a system of schools called Affiliate Schools which are affiliated to Centre for Playback Theatre, U.S.A for people learning PT around the world. So, SPTJ was born before that system was established. The doors were opened because of the high language barrier and the enthusiasm of the pioneers.
2. From Foreign Trainers to Japanese Trainers
In October 1998, the first school course in Japan began with Core Training taught by Jonathan Fox. Psychodrama, Warm-Up, Conducting, and Practice were also offered that year, all taught by Jonathan, with Bev Hoskin in the second year, Jo Salas in the third, and the first graduates in 2001.
That same year, Kayo Munakata, now the director of SPTJ, became the first Japanese trainer at the school, and from 2003, other Japanese trainers began teaching, including Kumiko Sato, who is still teaching today. I myself was assigned to teach my first course, The Possibility of Music, in 2012, and have continued to teach at the School for the past 13 years. Currently, SPTJ offers around seven courses each year taught by Japanese trainers, and students come from all over Japan to study.
Development
- Mission of SPTJ
SPTJ is unique in that it does not offer courses for one-off needs, but has a clear goal of PT sustainability and succession for future generations. We are committed to producing graduates and nurturing leaders who will carry on the tradition for future generations. As mentioned above, the Center has established an educational system that follows the curriculum pathway proposed by the Center, and we are also committed to the management of each class to ensure that it is held smoothly. Specifically, we develop course plans on a multi-year basis with the intention of implementing Level 4 at regular intervals. In other words, there is a clear commitment to the pathway for students aiming to graduate.
2. Courses Offered
In the past 25 years, we have offered around seven Level 4 courses, eleven Level 3 courses, and two hundred Selected Topics courses (Rituals and Music, Conducting, Acting, Inclusive Groups, etc.), and we offer around seven courses per year. To make each course viable, we need to attract participants. Unfortunately, just announcing and publicizing them is not enough; it requires systematic preparation and strategy. Specific tasks currently being undertaken by SPTJ include the following:
- We are currently working on a list of playback groups and their members across the country, and are trying to develop each group and each individual member of the group in order to further their development and to improve their career and skills.
- Explore what knowledge and skills are needed in each company and by each member. Then, recommending the most appropriate course for the group and its members.
- Making a steady approach of sending individual messages and calls to each member.
With the above strategies, each course has a maximum of 15 participants.
3. Expanding the base in Japan
As the population of PT practitioners in Japan grows, more and more people and groups are practicing PT in various locations from Hokkaido in the north to Okinawa in the south. Even within Japan, it is time-consuming and expensive to attend a school course in Yokohama from as far away as Hokkaido or Kyushu. For this reason, starting in 2015, we began holding courses at regional venues 1-2 times a year. For these regional events, we ask local companies to assist with some of the operations. By consulting with them on venues, accommodations, transportation, etc., we can ensure smooth operations. The advantage for local companies is that, since the classes are held near their base of operations, many – if not all – of their members can attend with ease. This allows the entire group to strengthen their skills. For the school, it can fulfill its mission of inclusion and nurturing of distant playbackers and playback companies as well. Recently, some companies have even asked us to hold the next year’s event in their area.
4. Training of Trainers
Currently, SPTJ has six trainers. While the increase in the number of trainers enriches the school by giving back to each trainer what they have to offer and what they are good at, it will also make it easier for the experience and skills of the trainers to vary, and a teacher training system has been devised to ensure that the quality of courses offered by SPTJ is maintained and that students are able to learn at a certain level regardless of which trainer is in charge of the course. Newer and less experienced trainers receive supervision from more experienced trainers to plan the course program and receive supervision during and after the implementation of the course. Specifically, the system is as follows:
Trainer Level 1: After discussing the outline of the lesson plan with the supervisor, a draft is submitted. Supervisor gives feedback. The final draft is revised and finalized by the supervisor. During the course, the person serves as an assistant trainer for a portion of the course. Other parts of the course are taught by the supervisor.
Trainer Level 2: The person creates their own lesson plans. Supervisor will provide feedback and finalize the plan. He/she teaches most of the parts. The supervisor provides feedback and makes the final plan. Supervisor will be in charge of the more difficult parts of the course.
Trainer Level 3: The person creates their own lesson plans. Supervisor checks the content. He/she leads the entire course. Supervisor intervenes only in case of emergency.
Trainer Level 4: Independent trainer.
Each trainer can choose the appropriate level for himself/herself according to his/her strengths and weaknesses in the subjects he/she teaches, while aiming to step up from Level 1 to Level 4.
We also offer opportunities for individuals who are not yet school trainers, but show potential, to teach Core Training along side experienced supervisors. This not only helps create a safe and supportive environment for teaching PT, but also contributes to the development of future instructional talent.
School scenery in Japan
As Kayo Munakata writes in her book, in Japan there is a concept called Dou. The word -do- literally means the way (Munakata, 2016). It is a path to master something. It is not merely a skill or knowledge but also includes the soul and philosophy behind it. And it is a path that will continue until we die. PT is not a traditional art. However, there are times when I feel its spirit is present in some way. There is a seriousness about learning and being there to learn. It is also in the spirit of wanting to follow the example of the teachers and masters. There is no set right answer to PT. It is not something that you can just copy what the trainer is doing and it will work. Everyone is earnestly trying to find out how to grasp and express what is close to the heart of the matter. This may be influenced by the -do- spirit that exists in Japan, which is a characteristic of SPTJ, where students who have graduated or already studied come back to learn again and again. This may be influenced by the spirit of never-ending training on this never-ending path. Of course, the wide variety and high quality of the courses offered at SPTJ also have an impact.
SPTJ in the future
Currently, there are about 20 companies in Japan that are run by SPTJ Practice and Leadership graduates, and I wondered what 20 groups with 96 graduates (Leadership) would look like in the eyes of the world. For example, my company, Playback AZ, has seven graduates. There are a number of other playback companies that have several graduates in their ranks. There are many people who have graduated from leadership, but instead of forming their own group, they are working with others, or even after graduation, they are still working and performing as fellow company members.
In December 2024, I attended Taiwan Playback Theatre Gathering in Hualien with some of my Japanese colleagues. I heard that many groups in Taiwan are passionate and active, that many new groups are born and many are lost, and that there are many changes in the membership. I felt that the temperature and pace of the company is different from that of Japanese companies.
It took 10 years from the time Jonathan first came to Japan until a place was established to deepen Playback Theatre as a school. In the Japanese environment where things don’t always move forward explosively, SPTJ has been able to offer many courses each year. And I believe that we have nurtured, albeit loosely, a high-quality Playback Theatre and a company that can make a social contribution.
I feel that the playful and spontaneous spirit of Playback Theatre offers Japanese society a great deal. And I hope that SPTJ will continue to be a supportive presence for this.
In 2023, Jonathan retired as the head of SPTJ. In that year, two courses were held with Jonathan as a trainer, one on Spontaneity in Sendai, and the other on Narrative Reticulation in Yokohama, the school’s home base.
The project to prevent isolation and loneliness using PT was put into practice at Tohoku University in Sendai City starting in 2021. This is a major project funded by the Japan Science and Technology Agency, and SPTJ will provide school courses mainly for university students for four and a half years. Within this project, a playback company called Aoba Playback Theatre was born, in which students play an active role. The course held in Sendai was very significant because of the participation of the young members of the Aoba Playback Theatre. Jonathan’s departure from SPTJ was a sad and final event for the trainers and the Japanese students, but it was also a great opportunity for the young students, who will be the driving force behind the future of PT in Japan and will help us to continue to grow in the future. I felt as if I could see Japanese PT continuing to flourish in the future.
The SPTJ website address is //www.playbackschool.com/
References
- Jonathan Fox, Beyond Theatre, a Playback Theatre memoir: Tusitala Publishing. 2015
- Kayo Munakata, The Way of Playback Theatre: School of Playback Theatre Japan. 2016
About the author
Assistant director of School of Playback Theatre Japan (SPTJ). Aki completed Leadership in 2006 and takes an active part in Playback AZ as a conductor, actor and musician. Director of Playback AZ since 2019. Aki is invited by groups from all over Japan to give guidance and supervision. She also teaches overseas and international course in SPTJ. She is an Accredited Trainer of Playback Theatre and the Authorized Trainer of Listening Hour. Aki is an occupational therapist and applies Playback Theatre and Listening Hour to the education for occupational therapist and students.
35 Years of Bellingen Playback Theatre Down Under
By Persia Wildwood
Greetings from Bellingen!
In the wonderful global web of Playback Theatre our company lives on the edge. Even in expansive Australia we are outliers. Far from pulsating cities and big towns, we practice in a beautiful, lush valley on Gumbaynggirr country. Far, far away from the broader Playback Theatre world, somehow Bellingen Playback Theatre Company has done its wonderful and unique ‘thing’ for 35 years. A seed blew in, got planted in this rich and fertile valley, and has quietly grown into a beautiful, very resilient tree that flowers regularly. It holds a special place in the hearts of the local community and in the broader regions of rural New South Wales.
Bellingen is a township of just 4000 people in the subtropics on the Mid North Coast of New South Wales, Australia. About 550k north of Sydney and 400k south of Brisbane. A vibrant community that is home to many artists. We are very privileged to live here on Gumbaynggirr country and we honour those who have been caretakers and custodians of this exquisitely beautiful land for tens of thousands of years. We acknowledge the Gumbaynggirr elders, past, present and now emerging. In our performances we recognise that we are held within the rich indigenous tradition of storytelling in this ancient land.
Early days and pioneers
In the first week of September 1989, five of us staged the first performance of Playback Theatre in Bellingen. Then, in November 1989, just as the Berlin Wall came down, we co-founded Bellingen Playback Theatre Company. It has been a wonderful, exhilarating and at times challenging ride.
We are one of the longest-running playback companies in Australia, perhaps in the world, with over 255 performances, averaging 7 annually, local and regional, commissioned gigs, grant-funded tours, intimate soirées and many public performances. Thousands of stories honoured, evoking the power and the sacredness of the ancient art of community storytelling. We weave the web of our lives in Bellingen and beyond story by story – a rich and colourful tapestry and an estimated 1400 rehearsals. There have been 28 members over all those years.
Back in 1989 Playback Theatre was a very new and little-known theatre form. Persia Wildwood had done training in playback in the early to mid 80’s with the Drama Action Centre in Sydney. Bridget Brandon and Francis Batten founded the Drama Action Centre in 1980. In that same year they worked together with Mary Good and Phil Boas to bring four members of the original playback company to Australia and New Zealand – Jonathan Fox, Jo Salas, Michael Clemente and Judy Swallow.
and Gail Colley (not in photo) the founders of Bellingen Playback Theatre.
Bridget and Francis then co-founded the second playback company in the world in Sydney. The Drama Action Centre continued for many years to be a place where many of us got our first taste of Playback Theatre. Back in Bellingen we were very much flying by the seat of our pants but it was working. And somehow it has kept on working.
What have been some highlights?
There have been many. Our regular Soirées – intimate gatherings of 15 where stories run deep. And in the photograph below we are performing at a festival for the Intentional Shamballa Community, celebrating its 50th birthday.
Once upon a time (1999) we went out West to a town called Tamworth, a three-hour drive from Bellingen. A giant white marquee. High school student groups, police and community members. The theme was Road Safety. In these rural areas there are many kilometres between places. No public transport. There had been recent tragic deaths of teenagers on the local roads due to reckless and dangerous driving. One of the shows really stands out. I was conducting. A sea of kids in front of me. A policeman who was standing to the side of the audience, very visible to all, slowly put his hand up. He told of a recent event where he had been woken by a phone call at 2.30 am to attend an accident where young people lay on a dirt road dying. He told of the emotional impact on him. He was tearful and his voice trembled a little as he spoke. I’ve never experienced such a profound silence from a bunch of high school students. Twenty years on that moment is still with me. The power of Playback Theatre.
International Women’s Day Gig
Since 1993 a constant heartbeat has been an annual show marking International Women’s Day. The first one in 1993 was held in a paddock at the back of the Old Butter Factory in Bellingen. A balmy night and we had a big white sheet as the backdrop, candles all around, and women sat on the grass. At one point the backdrop caught alight and there was a scurry to put out the flames.
This gig has become a much-anticipated performance “like a gathering of the tribe”. Unless there is a flood and the bridge goes under, we have over 100 women in attendance. We decorate the hall with fabrics, plants and candles. The atmosphere is magical and there is usually a lot of laughter.
Many in the audience have long standing connections with each other and, miraculously, we have managed to communicate the importance of confidentiality in a small community. Amazing.
As Bellingen has changed with many iterations of newcomers into the town, especially post Covid, so too the audience at this International Women’s Day gig is changing. More diversity in stories. Exploring the evolving role and identities of women in our culture.
The stories we playback and how they have changed
The stories have changed because the world has changed. But archetypal stories are present in every community. Sorrow, joy, desire, loss, work, family life, children, travel and adventure, illness, our natural environment, birth, life and death.
There has definitely been a trend to more stories about the importance of community, inclusiveness and belonging alongside the pervasive culture of ‘busyness’ and feeling overwhelmed. Tellers (especially women) are more outspoken than they used to be. Threats to the natural environment and the current global crises emerge as themes in performances or are sometimes missing entirely as though audience members just need a break from their concerns.
And, in Bellingen, we have lots of stories about living up close with the natural environment, the natural world. Snakes under beds, flying foxes massed in the sky at night as they fly out to feed, kookaburras swooping on an umbilical cord that hung from a clothesline, stories of the forest protectors, floods and fires, stories of the waterways, the ocean, the rivers and streams, waterfalls. Stories of gardens, gardening, creatures, permaculture and self-sufficiency, alternative lifestyles and tree changers, (new arrivals to Bellingen in quest of a rural lifestyle) the pros and cons of living in a small community.
Recently we’ve been delivering a series of three shows as part of a grant on Community and Place Making. The gigs are taking place in local community halls on the outskirts of Bellingen township.
Challenges
Our structure is non-hierarchical so some group processes have been lengthy but there is a strong sense of commitment to inclusivity and kindness to each other. Group dynamic complexities have contributed to our personal and company growth. “It’s been at times a wild ride and a beautiful one” (from Christel Wecker).
Being in a rural area means less access to funding opportunities, travel issues and fewer potential members to draw into the company. Connecting to training opportunities and collaborating with other playback companies is limited so we link in with other local community groups.
Longevity
Our company has a strong love & passion for the creative art and magic of playback in service to our community and beyond. When a teller or the whole audience is deeply moved by the portrayal of a story, we are all enriched by it.
The ongoing learning and development of team members in improvised theatre, movement, voice, music, rhythm, dance and poetry has been a constant in the company. The group’s openness to work with our edges, patterns and vulnerabilities for personal and group transformation keeps things fresh.
The strong and inspiring leadership from long term company members gives both continuity and momentum. I have delivered lengthy blocks of classes which trained and brought new members into the group, at first as apprentices and then members. Others have come in via audition or invitation. The weekly rehearsals telling our stories, building trust and connection is deeply nourishing. And we enjoy sharing a feast together, so important. Always the food is delicious. Celebrating what’s alive in us, reflecting our personal and collective stories has woven our red thread of 35 years of Bellingen Playback Theatre. We currently have nine members. And two new members in apprenticeship mode.
Our links to the International Playback Theatre Community
It has been a challenge – but somehow, we have kept in touch:
- 1992 International Playback Theatre conference in Sydney.
- Training in Clowning with Bridget Brandon, a workshop with Sue Grant.
- Francis Batten came and did training with us in Commedia dell’Arte.
- 1997 International Playback Theatre conference in Perth and Bouffon training with Brisbane Playback and Francis Batten.
- Early 2000’s I ran workshops in Byron Bay near the Queensland border. This led to the formation of Cape Byron Playback Theatre company which operated in the Northern Rivers region of NSW for almost 20 years. We collaborated with them via workshops, skill sharing and performances and had a lot of fun together.
- 2000 training with Mary Good in Conducting in Melbourne.
- Our musician Christel performed with Berlin Playback while on holidays there.
- Nancy Sposato, formerly with Melbourne Playback, has done training workshops with us.
- 2012 Sydney workshop with Jonathan Fox.
- Nicole was a guest with the Blue Mountains Playback Company and with Playback Theatre Sydney.
- 2017 Australasian Playback gathering in Hobart.
- 2018 Australasian Playback training in the Blue Mountains near Sydney.
- 2025 online course with Roberta Roberto Transcending Language in Playback Theatre
- 2025 Australasian Playback gathering in Stanwell Tops NSW
A personal reflection
It has been a terrific honour to be co-founder, actor, longtime conductor and recently co-musician in this vibrant and dynamic company. And to engage with the broader world of Playback Theatre. It’s taught me and brought me so much.
Something that really stands out – I just love being in the role of conductor. Setting up, holding and navigating the ritual space. Listening, breathing, trusting and feeling what’s in the room. Tossing a pebble into the waters and watching the ripples. Waiting for the red thread to start its magical weaving. Saying some words and waiting for the echo. Sensing the presence of the web weavers. Arachne, spinning and dancing as the web is woven by the courage of the storytellers and by the actors and musicians making theatre of what is offered and offering it back. It just happens, and we are all held and somehow connected and uplifted.
There is a concept called Tarab in classical Egyptian music which is a certain exquisite quality of energy (some say ecstasy) in the room during a performance. Sometimes this is similar to what can happen in a performance of Playback Theatre. Invoked by the interaction between the stories, the performers and the audience, this concept of Tarab is palpable and quite wonderful. I would say sacred. It’s heart and mind opening, and I know in my bones we need more of this in our world.
My deepest gratitude to those who brought this original and unique form of theatre into our world – in particular to Jonathan Fox and Jo Salas. And to all past and current members of our Bellingen Playback Theatre Company and to all who have bravely told your stories I say thank you.
To the broader playback world, in its 50th year let us celebrate and continue to nourish the richness of this unique and now worldwide form that is playback.
About the author
Persia Wildwood is an Artsworker, a performer, group facilitator and mentor who is guided by the pleasure principle as the starting point for learning and performing. She holds a BA/Dip Ed in Languages and Literature from Sydney University with Majors in French and Indonesian.
Persia trained at the Drama Action Centre in Sydney. She has worked in several improvised theatre forms including Clowning, playback and street theatre, character work and has devised and performed many themed theatre pieces and songs.
As musician she has played in various bands, duos and a middle Eastern Dance and Music troupe called Tarab, highlighting women as culture makers. Persia performs as conductor, actor and musician with Bellingen PT, which she co-founded in 1989. She has facilitated many PT classes and workshops including for Indigenous Australians and has been consultant trainer and mentor to Cape Byron PT.
Two Voices from the Finnish Playback Theatre Community
By Jori Linnamäki & Päivi Rahmel
Introduction: Two Perspectives on Finnish Playback Theatre
This article is composed of two distinct perspectives. It opens with Päivi Rahmel’s personal memories and reflections on the evolution of Playback Theatre (or tarinateatteri, as it is known in Finland). Päivi has been deeply involved in Finnish Playback Theatre from its inception and has played a major role in developing its leadership training. Her section captures the early days, the growth, and the transformation of tarinateatteri over the past decades.
The article then goes to Jori Linnamäki’s analysis of Finland’s place within the international Playback Theatre community. Jori, currently one of Finland’s two trainers in the national Playback Theatre Leadership program, offers a different viewpoint. Having served as president of the International Playback Theatre Network (IPTN), he reflects on Finland’s relative independence from the global playback community and expresses hopes for stronger international connections in the future.
Together, these two voices present a comprehensive picture of the past, present, and possible future of Finnish Playback Theatre.
Memories of the Beginnings of Playback Theatre in Finland (by Päivi Rahmel)
The first time I encountered Playback Theatre was in 1990, in the spring. I had been invited to host a workshop organized by the Finnish Psychodrama Association. At the time, I had no idea that this moment would change my life.
The Founding of Taikapeili
After that workshop, I couldn’t let go of Playback Theatre. I knew that this had to continue. That summer, I founded Finland’s first Playback Theatre group in Rautalampi, within my company Kasvunpaikka Oy at Sahala Manor. We gathered people who I believed would be interested in this way of working, and from this group, Taikapeili (Magic Mirror) was born. The name came from the deep feeling of being mirrored in the way it almost felt like magic.
We were amazed by how clearly, we could listen to another person’s story and mirror it accurately, without knowing much about their background or details. At the time, mirror neurons were not yet widely known – we had no scientific explanation for how our bodies, our very cells, could so powerfully reflect someone else’s experience.
At that time, we still called the form Playback Theatre, just as in the rest of the world. But the English name caused some confusion. Many people associated the word “playback” with music, assuming it had something to do with recorded sound rather than live theatre. And so, the name tarinateatteri (literally story theatre) took root in Finland, and today, it is used almost exclusively instead of the original English term.
The First Major International Encounter
In 1993, Finland had the great honor of hosting the 3rd International Playback Theatre Gathering in Rautalampi. It was an unforgettable event—participants came from 21 countries, and the gathering was one of the largest of its kind at the time. The organizing work was done by Päivi Rahmel (me) and Ari Kotisaari, with support from many of us in the Finnish playback community.
Jonathan Fox, Jo Salas, and many other international practitioners were present. There was incredible energy in the room, a sense of being part of beginning of something bigger. Finland, which had only recently embraced Playback Theatre, was suddenly at the heart of the international community.
The event itself was legendary—a gathering shaped by Rautalampi’s natural beauty and the magic of the Finnish summer. The midnight sun, traditional smoke saunas, bonfires, and even a nighttime church service created an atmosphere that participants remembered for years. Many of the pioneers who attended carried these memories forward, and the event gave a powerful boost to Playback Theatre’s development in Finland. Groups such as Tampere and Helsinki Playback Theatres joined Taikapeili in spreading the method further.
Growth and Transformation
After the conference, Taikapeili continued its work, soon transforming into Tarinateatteri Foxtrott.
Around the same time, Finland’s first two-year leadership training program was established, along with annual national Playback Theatre gatherings. I began organizing national gatherings in Rautalampi and leading the two-year director training program. This two year training was meant for people who wanted to be conductors and that’s why there was quite a strong emphasis on self-awareness, group leading skills among playback practice.
Tarinateatteri also became part of long-term educational programs. I also helped launch a six-month drama program at what is now STEP-opisto in Pieksämäki, which combined Playback Theatre with psychodrama, sociodrama, and bibliodrama. This was also the site of the European Playback Theatre meeting It’s Time, supported by Veronika Needa and Simon Floodgate.
Finland continued to play a role in international gatherings. The most recent major event, Big Bang, was held at Metropolia University’s Open University and featured workshops from European experts, as well as performances by Teater X from Sweden and Village Playback Theatre from the USA.
Figure 3. Village Playback Theatre visiting gathering called Big Bang 2016 in Metropolia.
Tarinateatteri Becomes Part of Professional Education
As the years passed, I moved to Helsinki and became a Playback Theatre teacher at Stadia University of Applied Sciences, later known as Metropolia University of Applied Sciences. Through this, Playback Theatre became an important part of the professional training of applied theatre practitioners, expanding the range of instructors and events.
Despite these developments, Playback Theatre remains a marginal art form in Finland—within theatre, education, and the arts. Still, it regularly reaches people in various contexts: seminars, training programs, workplace coaching, supervision, and celebrations. And it continues to surprise people with its impact. Even now, audiences often marvel: ‘How can something this extraordinary even exist?’
Groups like Foxtrott have performed over thirty years in leadership trainings, professional development courses for teachers, development and anniversary events for organizations, and even in medical communication retreats and further education courses. Many groups have developed specialized focus areas, while fewer offer regular open performances—often for financial reasons. But the work continues, and the stories keep finding their way to the stage.
Representation and International Connections (by Jori Linnamäki)
Like in many other countries, Playback Theatre arrived in Finland through international connections. As Finland hosted the 3rd International Playback Theatre Gathering, it showed early engagement with the global community. However, due to its geographical isolation, Finland’s representation in the international community and communication with the rest of the world have often depended on active individuals who have been personally motivated to engage internationally.
As a result, Finland has remained a relatively small part of the International Playback Theatre community – sometimes through representatives of the Finnish community (regionally), sometimes through groups visiting gatherings, and sometimes through individuals engaging in IPTN board activities. While trainers (including Jonathan Fox, the co-founder) have occasionally been invited to Finland, no ongoing program has been established to create a continuous dialogue between Finland and the rest of the Playback Theatre world.
From the writers’ perspective, Finland has a reputation for producing high-quality Playback Theatre (whatever that might mean) while also being somewhat isolated, meaning very few groups attending international gatherings. Given the size of Finland’s Playback Theatre scene, it is interesting that its representation in the international community has remained relatively rare. This part of the article explores possible reasons for that.
Representation: Messengers, Not Bridges
As mentioned earlier, Finland has had individuals strongly connected to the international community. However, for some reason, this has not led to a solid bridge between Finland and the global Playback Theatre network. Instead, these individuals have acted more as messengers, conveying what is happening internationally and what is happening in Finland, rather than facilitating deep, structural connections.
Finland has had notable representatives in IPTN. Päivi Rahmel was very active in the early days of Playback Theatre and served on the IPTN board. Later, Jari Aho represented Finland for six years, followed by Jori Linnamäki, who served for 6.5 years—2.5 years as vice president and four years as president. In addition to these individuals, Finland has had regional representatives for IPTN.
However, this role has not fully taken root, perhaps because Finland’s Playback Theatre community is already strong and does not rely on international connections to sustain its practice. This might also explain the messenger role—those who choose to engage internationally do so out of personal interest rather than necessity, as the Finnish community does not depend on international ties to continue its work.
That said, the question remains: Why has Finland, despite having a thriving Playback Theatre scene, not built a more structured relationship with the international community? One possible explanation lies in its independent approach to leadership training.
Independent Leadership Training: A Self-Sufficient Model
One major reason for Finland’s relative independence in the international community is that it established its own Playback Theatre school in 1993, creating a self-sufficient training model. Unlike many countries, which rely on the Center for Playback Theatre (CPT) for leadership certification, Finland developed its own two-year program to train Playback Theatre leaders.
This model has served Finland well. It has led to the founding of many groups—at one point, Finland had the most number of Playback Theatre groups in the world. Because Finland trains its own leaders, it has not needed to send practitioners abroad for certification, further reinforcing its independence.
Some individuals have completed the Leadership program at CPT—Päivi, the founder of the Finnish Playback school, was among the first graduates—but for the most part, Finland has created its own curriculum. Unlike the CPT model, which requires five years of Playback Theatre experience before leadership training, the Finnish model prioritizes a suitable mindset and a relevant background over strict experience requirements. The Finnish training structure moves through four main phases:
- Mastering the basics of Playback Theatre
- Conducting techniques and deepening narrative understanding
- Group dynamics from a leadership perspective
- Tailored studies based on personal interest
The fourth part refers to each individual student’s personal interests and what they really wish from Playback Theatre. Some are more interested in taking their artistry to the next level, while some want to use Playback Theatre for consulting or teaching – the studies aim to take these individual wishes into account. This model has allowed Finland to grow its Playback Theatre scene organically. However, it has also contributed to Finland’s relative isolation—without a direct link to CPT, Finland has remained somewhat disconnected from the international Playback Theatre training network.
Unique Finnish Playback Theatre Forms and Groups
Since most Finnish Playback Theatre leaders come through this independent training system and many groups operate without frequent international exchange, unique Finnish Playback Theatre forms have emerged. Groups often develop their own variations based on local needs, and Playback Theatre is taught by individuals who may or may not have completed formal leadership training.
Some Playback Theatre forms arrive in Finland through internationally active individuals, and while certain forms are widely recognized within the Finnish Playback community, they may not be known elsewhere.
Finnish groups are diverse, ranging from:
- Dancers practicing non-verbal Playback Theatre
- A duo consisting of a married couple, playing back stories in different movies genres
- Professional theatre artists blending Playback Theatre with scripted theatre
- Teachers using Playback Theatre as an educational tool
- Consultants applying Playback Theatre in organizational settings
- Comedians and dancers playing only love stories
- Members of the tantric community, which has recently explored Playback Theatre as a tool for emotional exploration
One particularly unique long-running Finnish-Estonian group, Big Men, explores gender issues from a male perspective and has performed internationally, including at the Ukrainian Gathering in 2024.
These groups often develop their own Playback Theatre forms tailored to their specific needs and ways of thinking. However, some Finnish forms remain largely unknown outside Finland, as they have not been widely shared or documented internationally.
The Future of Finland in the International Community
Because Finland already has a strong Playback Theatre community and does not rely on international support, its future role in the international Playback Theatre scene remains uncertain. Individuals with a desire for international connection will likely continue to attend gatherings and may take on organizational roles, but Finland as a country or community may not be as visible as these individuals might hope.
The Center for Playback Theatre does not currently collaborate with Finnish trainers, and Finnish schools have yet to establish a formal bridge with CPT or the broader international network. While efforts have been made in this direction, limited individual resources have prevented long-term cooperation.
We genuinely hope for a stronger connection and deeply appreciate the international community. Both were inspired by the latest developments in the Playback Theatre world during their time in South Africa.
The International Playback Theatre community faces significant challenges in an increasingly divided world, with conflicts between countries and rising forces that promote division rather than connection. This reality poses a challenge to maintaining ties between countries like Finland and the International Playback Theatre community. There has not been a big general interest in the Finnish Playback Theatre scene in social issues and we tend to be a bit comfort-seeking rather than going towards potential conflicts, even if they are for just causes.
Why seek international connection when everything at home is already good enough?
This is the key challenge. Hopefully, a new wave of connection and interest will emerge because the problems this generation faces cannot be solved in isolation. Disconnection is not the answer.
Conclusion: Looking to the Future Together
As Finnish tarinateatteri approaches its 35th anniversary, the future holds both challenges and opportunities. While Finland has developed a strong and independent Playback Theatre scene, its connection to the wider international community remains a topic of discussion.
Päivi’s reflections remind us of the excitement and sense of belonging that came from Finland’s early international involvement. Jori’s analysis highlights Finland’s unique position as both a strong national community and a country that has not yet fully built lasting bridges to the international Playback Theatre network.
What will the next decades bring? Will Finland further integrate with global Playback Theatre communities, or will it continue to evolve in its own unique way? As new practitioners step forward and technology opens new possibilities for connection, these questions remain open.
What we agree on is that Playback Theatre’s essence must always remain rooted in deep listening, respect, and the transformative power of storytelling – whether practiced locally or globally.
Link to basic book of Playback Theatre: Tell, Lets’ Watch!
Links to two learning videos Päivi did with FoxTrott
Disclaimer
Neither of the authors are native English speakers. ChatGPT assisted with translation and language checking as well as Katinka Linnamäki, but all content, reflections, and analysis are entirely our own.
About the authors
Jori Linnamäki is a Playback Theatre artist, conductor, trainer, supervisor, psychodrama director, and systemic organizational consultant from Finland. He co-leads the national Playback Theatre Leadership Training in Finland and served 6.5 years on the board of the International Playback Theatre Network (IPTN), including four years as its president.
Deeply committed to community building and social connection through storytelling, Jori has worked in playback projects, trained, and performed internationally – including in Cuba, India, Germany, and Japan – and in Finland, where he has led the Playback Theatre Acts group for nearly 15 years.
Jori is also known for his experimental JFK Playback Duo with his wife, and as a member of Big Men and Foxtrott. He believes Playback Theatre offers a unique space for growth and transformation – for both the teller and the performer.
His passion lies in strengthening dialogue, witnessing, and presence – locally and globally.
Päivi Rahmel is a Playback Theatre artist, conductor, trainer, supervisor, organizational consultant, Psychodrama Trainer TEP, and Narrative Coach (WBSEC). She is the founder of both Finnish Playback Theatre and the Finnish Playback Theatre Institute. Päivi served on the IPTN board in its early years and was the main organizer of several national conferences, as well as the World Conference Midnight Conference of Playback Theatre in 1993, the European Conference It’s Time, and most recently, the large-scale Big Bang conference.
Päivi has founded three Playback Theatre groups, and Foxtrott is still actively led by her. She has worked in her own company since 1984, and continues to do so. She also served for many years as a professor at Metropolia University of Applied Sciences, where she taught and for some time led the Department of Performing Arts.
She is known as a safe and grounded leader with an endlessly creative touch. Päivi aims for deep connection and has a lifelong love of stories and learning. She offers space for human growth and self-awareness—both for individuals and groups.
Using Playback Theatre for Mental Health and Psychosocial Support in Crisis-Affected Communities: A Case Study from Access to Play, Nigeria
By Oluwadamilola Abdulai-Apotieri
Introduction
“Let’s Watch” – this phrase struck me when I first encountered Playback Theatre at the Drama for Life Playback Theatre Company in South Africa. As a B.A. Honours student of Applied Drama and Theatre at the University of the Witwatersrand, I had already completed my Theatre Arts degree in Nigeria. I was motivated by a deep desire to explore the transformative potential of interactive arts within communities. My aim was to apply theatre techniques to support the mental health and psychosocial well-being of survivors of the Boko Haram insurgency and other emergencies in Nigeria.
My first experience with Playback Theatre was deeply personal. During a session, I shared the challenges I had faced while securing my student visa for South Africa. After the session ended, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief, having unburdened myself of my emotions. This transformative experience inspired me to pursue Playback Theatre alongside my Applied Drama studies, leading to the founding of Playback Nigeria (now Access to Play), the first Playback Theatre company in Nigeria.
at Mega IDP Camp, Benue State.
At Access to Play, we believe in the transformative power of Playback Theatre to promote healing and resilience. Our focus is on supporting Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) in Nigeria, particularly those affected by ongoing insecurity in Borno and Benue States. These communities, already burdened by hardship, face significant mental health and psychosocial challenges. Through Playback Theatre and other applied drama techniques, we create a safe space for individuals to express their stories, confront trauma, and rebuild a sense of community.
The Role of Playback Theatre in Mental Health and Psychosocial Support (MHPSS)
Playback Theatre, grounded in spontaneous, improvisational storytelling, has proven to be an effective tool for addressing mental health challenges, especially in crisis contexts (Johnstone, 1992). For IDPs, storytelling is not only an act of recalling events but also a means of reclaiming control over their personal narratives. Playback Theatre provides participants with a safe, non-threatening space to share their experiences, offering validation and emotional release.
In Northern Nigeria, cultural and religious barriers often impede individuals from expressing themselves. This is especially true for men, who face societal pressure to adhere to stereotypical notions of masculinity. These cultural expectations contribute to a silence around emotional struggles, leaving many individuals burdened with unresolved emotions that can lead to depression, anger, and frustration.
Playback Theatre has helped participants – regardless of gender or age – process complex emotions such as grief, fear, and anger. Feedback and impact reports indicate that participants experience healing as they are supported by the empathy and witness of their community. This communal support also fosters resilience, helping individuals break the isolation that often accompanies displacement and trauma. This approach aligns with the Inter-Agency Standing Committee (IASC) guidelines on MHPSS, which emphasize the importance of social support and community-building in humanitarian contexts (IASC, 2007).
Supporting Survivors of Gender-Based Violence (GBV):
Playback Theatre has had a profound impact on supporting survivors of gender-based violence (GBV), particularly women and adolescent girls within displacement camps and surrounding communities. For many survivors, sharing their stories is an essential step toward healing and resilience. Playback Theatre provides a safe, non-judgmental environment where survivors can voice their experiences, often for the first time, and find healing through communal storytelling.
To assist survivors of GBV, we developed the Ijiir i been an̄gev (translated from Tiv as The Healing Place) at the Mega IDP Camp in Benue State. This initiative provides a supportive space for groups of 28 women, 25 adolescent boys and girls, and 25 young children, each in separate group sessions throughout the year 2025. These sessions offer opportunities for emotional release, reflection, and community solidarity. In this setting, survivors share their stories with others who understand and validate their experiences.
Through Playback Theatre, survivors not only experience emotional release but also gain empowerment. Seeing their stories reflected through performance helps them reclaim their voices, often silenced by violence. This process enables them to reshape their narratives, transforming trauma into strength and resilience. As Bennett (2007) highlights, Playback Theatre offers a powerful means for survivors to reclaim their voices and heal.
One anonymous participant from the Mega IDP Camp in Benue shared:
“I was reluctant to share my story because I feared being mocked. But seeing the vulnerability of others being honored made me feel safe. I was able to speak my truth without fear of judgment.”
This testimony underscores the profound sense of safety and healing Playback Theatre provides. Through this process, survivors rebuild self-worth, dignity, and agency.
Impact and Outcomes
The impact of Playback Theatre in these contexts has been remarkable. Participants frequently report a greater sense of emotional relief and clarity after engaging in Playback Theatre sessions. Many express feeling more connected to their peers and communities, forming a network of mutual support crucial for psychological recovery.
In Benue State, Playback Theatre has catalyzed positive change. Survivors of GBV have shared how the sessions helped them transition from victimhood to empowerment. Displaced persons have found renewed hope and strength through the ability to express themselves freely. This work aligns with the World Health Organization (WHO) guidelines, which advocate for creative approaches to MHPSS in crisis settings to build resilience and provide psychological support (WHO, 2013).
Challenges and Lessons Learned
While the outcomes of our work have been overwhelmingly positive, we have faced significant challenges. One of the most pressing issues is the lack of funding to sustain our initiatives. Additionally, the deep emotional and psychological wounds of participants, coupled with cultural and religious barriers, can hinder the full acceptance of mental health interventions. Logistical challenges, such as difficulty accessing remote areas, have also posed obstacles.
However, these challenges have taught us invaluable lessons. We have learned the importance of patience, cultural sensitivity, and the power of community collaboration. One of the greatest lessons we’ve learned is that Playback Theatre fosters a sense of belonging and collective healing. By sharing stories and witnessing one another’s pain and triumphs, participants come to understand that they are not alone in their experiences, which significantly contributes to their resilience and healing.
Looking Forward
As the world celebrates the 50th anniversary of Playback Theatre, we are working tirelessly to make this healing tool accessible to all, especially women and adolescent girls in underserved communities who have experienced GBV or other forms of trauma. By providing them with a platform to voice their stories, we offer a safe space for healing and recovery.
We are committed to continuing our work with IDPs, survivors of GBV, inmates in correctional facilities, and other marginalized groups. Our vision is to expand our efforts beyond Nigeria to other West African countries. We aim to integrate Playback Theatre into MHPSS programs in crisis zones, creating spaces for healing, resilience, and community support.
The future of Playback Theatre in these settings is promising, and we are excited to continue using this powerful art form to transform lives and foster hope in crisis-affected communities.
To learn more about our work, please visit www.accesstoplay.org.
References
Bennett, D. (2007). Theater for Social Change: A Case Study of Playback Theatre for Survivors of Domestic Violence. Journal of Community Arts.
Inter-Agency Standing Committee (IASC). (2007). IASC Guidelines on Mental Health and Psychosocial Support in Emergency Settings. IASC.
Johnstone, P. (1992). Impro: Improvisation and the Theatre. Routledge.
Pendle, M. (2006). Playback Theatre: The Actor’s Way. Drama Research.
United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). (2020). Mental Health and Psychosocial Support for Refugees and IDPs. UNHCR Guidelines.
World Health Organization (WHO). (2013). Mental Health and Psychosocial Support in Humanitarian Settings: An Introduction. WHO.
About the author
Oluwadamilola Apotieri-Abdulai is Nigeria’s first Playback Theatre practitioner, and he is a pioneer in harnessing the power of performance for healing, connection, and empowerment.
As founder and CEO of the Access to Creative Play Foundation (Access to Play) –Nigeria’s first and only Playback Theatre company – Damilola leads initiatives that place the arts at the heart of mental health advocacy, peacebuilding, and social change. Access to Play has become a regional leader in delivering psychosocial support to those impacted by trauma, conflict, and displacement. Currently Damilola is spearheading Playback Theatre–based psychosocial interventions for internally displaced persons (IDPs) in Nigeria, providing safe, creative spaces for women, youth, and children to process trauma and rebuild resilience.
Damilola is a facilitator at global conferences, workshops, and retreats focused on collaboration, resilience, and as a tool for justice and transformation. He also serves on the Board of the Centre for Playback Theatre, contributing to the global development of the practice.
Stories under the umbrella of peace in Aotearoa New Zealand
By Fe Day
“Kia ora to the Playback world!”
From left: Fe Day, Bek Coogan, Peter Daly, Claire Hewitt, Suzanne Lyons.
In 2022 five of us came together in Wellington New Zealand as StoryPlay to work with personal stories, shared as part of a Peace Exhibition and Festival called AIO ki te Rangi; Listen to Waters, trees and heartbeat; Live towards Peace, under the auspices of Peace Action Women for Sustainability and Friends. This exhibition and festival were supported by a grant from a peace and disarmament fund which enabled us to pay an hourly rate to the performers. AIO ki te Rangi means Peace in the heavens in the indigenous language of Aotearoa New Zealand.
At 5.30pm in an old shop in a city street we performed stories every day for whoever came, and they gave a donation. We put an exercise book out for people to write feedback in and some people said:
“Lovely gathering with lovely people …. I love the atmosphere and look… this event is another wonderful one. Peace matters.”
In 2024 the same five people reassembled again under the banner of peace to play with stories in community centres and did eight performances and four community open rehearsals in various venues around the city and region. Some people said:
“A journey that led us to ancestral healing…It was interesting to hear the sounds for my story, taking me back.”
“It was great to see an inanimate object (the bike) bring such life to the stage! I didn’t know you could do that. It really was my child’s experience ringing the bell with each accomplishment!”.
“Super awesome to see such expressive and genuine performances…Very sensitive and evocative music-making exploration”
“A wonderful peaceful and contemplative evening of music and storytelling and musical storytelling”
As well as these performances we engaged in three extended rehearsal sessions, at one point staying for three days in a peace retreat out of the city. One performer wrote: “It has been a great experience working with the StoryPlay group. My primary role has been as a musician and before I began this work, I was learning a number of contemporary viola works. I was finding it challenging to relate these works with ordinary life experiences. The work with StoryPlay came as a welcome revelation, since the experiences came first (as told by members of the audience) and the music was a sound picture of the story. The adage that peace begins with the individual was verified consistently with stories sometimes relating to personal turmoil and at other times to global and societal issues. I would recommend this interactive form of theater to any social group attempting to crystalize their approach in working towards facilitating Peace.”
While our group seems only to exist intermittently, when we are able to gain funding from specific sources which enable us to pay an hourly rate to these senior performing artists for rehearsing and performing, it has a surprising resourcefulness and resilience with these very experienced performers staying in touch and holding the possibility of further work together as funds make it possible.
For further information please see here.
About the author
Fe first encountered playback when on an anti-nuclear walk of 360km in New Zealand with a group called Pramazons consisting of six women, two children and six prams.
Two of the women had attended a workshop with Jonathan and Jo and passed on the skills so that playback was one of the gifts offered to people who hosted the group along the way. Later, she joined Auckland Playback Theatre and participated in IPTN as a committee member, even acting as President briefly. After many years performing playback and simultaneously working in a university learning development centre, she undertook at PhD on Playback Theatre: “Patterns in a World in Slippage”: Playback Theatre as Professional Development in Three Primary Healthcare Centres in Aotearoa New Zealand which can be read here . She continues to be fascinated by the interweaving of personal stories with improvisational music and enactment!
Millennials figuring out Playback Theatre: Perspectives from France
By Valentine, Antoine, Amélie, Jennifer
About us
Our group started off in September 2023 with weekly two-hour-long evening intro workshops on Valentine’s impulse. We are based in Valence, a town in the South-East of France. Our 13 current members, all between the ages of 25 and 35, are predominantly French and white, with some of us queer. Most of us have higher education backgrounds but earn minimum wage or less, working as youth workers, teachers, local NGO staff, or in social and environmental activism. Only three members had amateur performing arts experience before starting playback. All members have close relationships with most other members. As of spring 2025 we have performed 13 times: three open performances, and ten performances for local NGOs or activists’ groups.
We were invited to write this article from the perspective of being a newly formed Playback Theatre company. We chose to tell our story as we would in a playback performance, knowing there are as many versions as there are people in and around our troupe. Writing this article also had to be a collective experience. We wanted it to honor different perspectives. Starting a new group isn’t the work of just one person – even if someone might have played a key role. Like Playback Theatre itself, it’s about relationships.
Valentine
I was drawn into the undercurrent of Playback Theatre during a 4-day Core Training in 2022 with the company Magma (in Montpellier, France). I had very little prior artistic experience and a good amount of stage fright, but every evening of that training I experienced a soulful evidence that playback now had to inhabit my life. With all the innocence of beginnings I thought “I was made for this.”
I joined a budding playback group in a rural area, about an hour from where I lived. The group was mostly made of professional artists who had just taken the same core training. Being part of a troupe was very new and scary to me, but I had lots of enthusiasm. Playback Theatre isn’t very common in France. I would later learn that a few groups existed, scattered across the country, but not much training, mentoring, or peer support available. I knew nothing about the international context at that point. Despite a curious mind and fluency in English I had not been able to figure it out online. It took me a family visit to neighbouring Switzerland a couple months later to meet an experienced company in Lausanne (La Maison du Récit). As they welcomed me to a rehearsal I thrillingly realised we spoke the same language. They were then planning their trip to the 2023 IPTN conference in Johannesburg, and something in me woke up. I submitted my application.
Meanwhile, some close friends of mine from Valence attended our troupe’s first performances and they too were drawn to the practice. As that initial group had professional ambitions and was not open to new members, I shakingly offered to share the little experience I had in the form of intro evening workshops in our local community centre. I felt very illegitimate, but it was me or no playback workshop. So I decided it was okay for it to be me.
In the following months, the first troupe I had been part of started to crumble, while my timid weekly workshop was slowly rooting itself. That’s when the South African IPTN Conference happened. The conference was beyond all I had anticipated. I discovered a queer-friendly feminist community. I was humbled and educated on my white European privileges. My creativity was galvanized by the many ways of practising playback. I bit by bit attempted to puzzle out the sub-texts, the power dynamics and political stances within the community. I cried. Of wonder, shame, rage, laughter. Most of all I was inspired to pursue my playback journey with a renewed quest for training, responsibility, and resourcefulness.
I heard stories of groups that had similar issues around leadership, artistry, inclusivity, and development. Their experiences allowed me to distance myself from my own, namely struggling with leadership and expectations in my first playback group and feeling so very limited in teaching my friends in the new workshop. Paula Kingwill – an insightful South African playbacker – wisely invited me to “start in (my) backyard”. So I asked myself what my backyard was. My backyard has layers. The top layer is my town’s vibrant, hyper-local civil society: I work in a food mutual aid organisation and live in a shared household embedded in a close-knit community network. Beneath that, my roots stretch into the soil of unbelonging – a feeling shaped by growing up as an expat kid, always in motion. But that same soil has also nurtured precious skills: the ability to challenge myself, build bridges, connect beyond borders, and to feel at home in vastly different places. After years of Covid restrictions and a personal choice to travel less, those roots were thirsty. I started visiting other playback groups in neighbouring European countries and attending advanced workshops. I reached out to trainers and to more experienced playbackers for guidance.
What makes it easy for me is that my friends who have joined the evening playback workshops share my top layer. We are part of the same local networks. Community building and playback is evident to them. They are here to have fun and be creative, but they are also hungry for performances and experiences that would be of service to their activism. So when I invited Jennifer Nasrallah from Laban Theatre – whom I had met in South Africa and happens to be studying in France – it turned out to be a perfect match. For me it was also a huge relief to be able to regularly rely on someone who was experienced enough to bring in some new skills and who opened up our horizons.
I still struggle with many aspects of running a playback group. I had not planned to start one. I’m still a beginner. I would rather be part of a training company, getting feedback, building my skill set and confidence with a frame of reference. That not being possible and me being gifted with a jolly bunch of determined friends, how do I build my guidance before having experienced it myself? What are the outlines of my role? How/when/with whom do I share responsibilities? How do I care for group members who are struggling in their personal lives? How do I hold the space while staying vulnerable? How does my role as facilitator interwork with the different close relationships that tie me to group members? When do I comfort? When do I challenge? How do I build a culture of radical appreciation? What relies on me alone? When do I step up? When do I lean in? How do I sustain my own growth and learning curve? How do I bring back to the group what I’ve learned abroad? What is helpful supervision for me? How do I ask for it? What is paid what is not? What should be expected from group members? Are we ready for new audience? or theme? or form? How do I not burn out from all of this?
After 1.5 years I now have built a couple strategies for times of doubts or crisis. I reach out to one of the group members who knows me best. I focus on trusting the group and the process of playback. I chat with Stefka Dimitrova from Bulgaria who’s a couple years ahead of me in setting up a new group in a similar context and is always really encouraging and full of ideas. I pull out the Playback Theatre Toolkit edited by Playback North America or more books from Jo Salas and Johnathan Fox gathered at the conference, or I dig into the Journal! This access to resources has been determinant for me. One of my many hopes is one day to be able to contribute by translating resources as well as making them accessible in different formats for people who are not at ease with reading books and/or English
Antoine
I started Playback Theatre because I met Valentine who was super hyped by this practice. She was starting a group in Valence for some of her friends who wanted to try. At that time I had just moved to Valence in the same house as Valentine. I didn’t know anybody from the group, but I felt the call to try, and I’m so glad I did!
I started the workshop because I wanted to improve my improvisation skills, connect more with my body, be aware of it and also be more aware of my feelings, connect more with my empathy. I’m excited sometimes to be in the place of the conductor, but I feel more comfortable being an actor!
I feel like our playback group is amazing because we are a group of friends. I met all of them through playback and now I feel so close to everyone. It’s an amazing way to meet people. Being friends and performing together allows me to go deeper in everything I offer on stage. Some of my co-playbackers we now work together, some we live together. The whole group is actively engaged in feminism and civil rights, against racism, fascism, homophobia, patriarchy. I can feel it in our playback. Our workshop is a laboratory: as an actor, as a teller, as a conductor for trying, listening, dumping our anger, sadness, our biggest struggles or our biggest victories…
One Monday evening, we used playback to hear out a situation of oppression that someone had lived within the group. I was in admiration how this conflict unfolded inside of our group: with the words, the listening, how we transmuted it in a beautiful brave space, to let go of emotions and not keep anything for ourselves. For me Playback Theatre is this space for transmutation, regeneration, and I love to bring it in my activists’ circles.
After 6 months of training each Monday, our first performance was for rebels from Extinction Rebellion (XR) in Toulouse (France). This opportunity came up because I am part of this movement and I had understood that playback is for taking care in a community, which activists need a lot. It was a big success, and a beautiful way to start! In April I will give a Playback Theatre workshop for regional XR activists, and in the same weekend we will perform for the second time for the rebels.
PT is a tool so powerful, so rich, for hearing, transforming, empowering a community and learn collectively through sharing our emotions. For me it’s the essence that Valentine gave us about PT and I’m really thankful to her, because she gave us the political essence of PT. And it’s why I continue.
We also met Jennifer: she is a member of Laban company, she is in Montpellier, and we have this opportunity to do workshops with her. It’s just an incredible step. We are so lucky that Valentine met Jennifer in South Africa during the IPTN conference, and they built a beautiful bridge, I really feel in the right place. I saw a performance of Laban in Paris: they were playing in support of Palestinian activists, Palestinian and Arab diaspora. I was astonished by the depth of what was reflected on stage, it hit me hard, but I loved it.
In the last one and a half years of playback, I’ve improved my connection with other people, in empathy, in my listening, and I feel like I’m a beginner, I will always be. And I love it. I’m so afraid to play, to conduct a performance, even to go for training sometimes, so it’s a big process about trusting myself.
Let’s see each other in Salamanca!
Amélie
Building a Playback Theatre Troupe from Friendship, Failure, and Trust.
I discovered Playback Theatre thanks to a friend, Valentine, who forwarded me a newsletter from a local feminist collective in the Drôme region with a casual “If you’re up for it, let’s go together.” That was simple, just a friend, a link, and a gentle invitation that would unknowingly reroute my artistic life.
Coming from a background in classical theatre and improv, I had always been in search of something that could hold both artistry and meaning — a space where storytelling was both performance and transformation. PT was that space. The resonance was immediate and deep. I felt like that rare moment when something clicks into place, and you think: “Ah. Of course.”
I dove in – festivals, workshops, reading everything I could find. I joined a troupe made up mostly of professional performers. Artistically, it was stimulating and sharp – the kind of experience that humbles you and hones you. But like many first loves, that first troupe had a breaking point. A year in, group tensions surfaced. I stepped back, needing to protect myself and rest. Sometimes the hardest part of collective art is not the art – it’s the collective.
Then came the whisper of a new beginning. Valentine – my friend and brilliant facilitator who prior had also joined that first troupe – was opening up an intro amateur workshop for some mutual friends who had seen us perform and wanted to try playback themselves. At first, I hesitated. I hadn’t yet grieved the end of the previous troupe. And, let’s be honest – the idea of working with a group where no one had prior theatre experience made me nervous. We had to go over basics like projecting the voice or just … standing in space. But something shifted.
They had already been meeting and exploring PT together for about six months when I finally decided to join one of their sessions. I came with curiosity – I felt ready – and a lot of gratitude that the group was open to welcoming me at that stage of their journey. From the very first session I attended, I was genuinely impressed. The group had developed a depth of presence and a way of moving together that I hadn’t expected to find so early in their exploration. What they were creating had an energy, a sincerity, and a rawness that felt powerful and alive.
A big part of what made this possible was that the group was already made up of close friends. That foundation of trust meant they could dive into the practice more quickly, without needing to first navigate the usual relational hesitations. And then, there was Valentine – whose facilitation brought structure, depth, and care to the mix. Her approach was humble, wise, and refreshingly honest. She never pretended to know what she didn’t. Instead, she made deliberate choices – like choosing not to include singing exercises that echoed cultural appropriation, or curating the group’s communication methods in a way that respected her own boundaries.
She also crafted a beautiful entry ritual for our weekly Monday sessions: music plays as people arrive, inviting us to take care of ourselves – stretch, lie down, dance, do nothing. It holds space for transition and late arrivals – and ironically, this ritual made me (a chronic latecomer) want to be early. It’s a quiet moment I now cherish.
What made this troupe work, when the first one didn’t? Partly, learning from failure. We made space for conflict, for boundaries, for the recognition that PT touches deep and sometimes traumatic parts of our lives. We learned to slow down.
Secondly, our group – informally known as Comme un lundi (French for Just another Monday) is built on friendship, activism, and a lot of WhatsApp-less communication. Being a group of friends has its highs and lows though. On one hand: community care is real. I know I can share personal stories in a room of people who love me. The mirror of playback becomes more than theatrical – it becomes relational. On the other hand: conflicts happen, conflict that is intimate. But we have rituals, like our closing circle, where honesty is encouraged. We say what didn’t feel good. We clear the air.
Being a group of activists has its own flavour. On some Mondays, the world feels unbearably heavy, and our opening weather check becomes a collective sigh of grief. But it’s also our anchor. I’ve been to international festivals where feminist or anti-racist values weren’t at the forefront, and I felt something missing. For me, PT is political – or it’s not PT at all. After a particularly moving session, we went into our usual closing circle. One person, with emotion in their voice, said, “That was healing for a part of my story, but also artistically challenging. I felt I surpassed something in myself.” And jokingly, I said, “Well, just another Monday.” We all laughed, and someone said, “That could be the name of our troupe!” It stuck.
And as for being a mixed-experience troupe … it keeps me humble. Sometimes I catch myself in a snobbish thought – and then someone with no theatre background delivers a performance that guts me in the best way. It also takes energy. There are moments where I (or others) hold space for people navigating imposter syndrome, fear, or hesitation. But watching someone dare something new – that moment is gold. In Playback Theatre, we usually ask the storyteller, “And how does your story end?” For us, the story of Comme un lundi is still being written.
Jennifer
Playback as My Mother Tongue
Playback became my first true language – the one I turn to when words fail, when bridges must be built, when stories long to be heard. It is through playback that I have found belonging, healing, and a way to carry home within me, wherever I go.
When I first arrived in France, I was filled with a motive: to keep the flame of Playback Theater alive, no matter where I was. I couldn’t imagine my life without it – it had become the language through which I breathed, connected, and healed. I had been part of the Laban troupe in Lebanon since 2015. We perform in all kinds of contexts, addressing different issues such as gender-based violence, substance abuse, conflict resolution, child protection, non-violent communication, war, and much more. It was intense, meaningful, and deeply rooted in the social fabric of our reality.
Leaving my troupe and my people created a deep void in me. I started searching for playback troupes in France, hoping to reconnect with that part of myself – but nothing felt like home. I found myself caught in the middle of a cultural shock, suspended between two worlds, unable to fully find myself in either.
Then, my story with the troupe Place au Jeu began. I met Valentine and Jean during the IPTN gathering in South Africa. We stayed in touch – and I’m so grateful we did. With Valentine, I found again the human essence of Playback Theater. We built a bridge between us. In South Africa, we watched the same performances, attended similar workshops, shared a mutual love for playback, and knew how it shaped our lives.
When I returned to France, I began travelling frequently to Valence. I accompanied the troupe, bringing in artistic techniques, reflections, and stories from my professional experience – showing how Playback Theater can be practised from different angles and perspectives. In doing so, a common theatrical language was built and the individuals slowly helped me understand their own context.
But this journey hasn’t been easy. It still isn’t. I often ask myself: How can I transmit Playback Theater in a language that isn’t mine, in a culture so different from the one I come from?
I’ve made mistakes. I’ve spent countless hours trying to adapt what I knew to the people I was teaching. I’ve spent even more hours on the phone with my mentor Farah Wardani, Laban’s artistic director, unpacking doubts, challenges, and breakthroughs. Through this reflection, I began asking myself questions I hadn’t considered in a long time: What drew me to playback in the first place? Playback Theater is a place where my and other’s stories find their voice – and come to life. It’s impressive how we carry stories that were never given voice and how playback felt like a way to reclaim them, how storytelling, dance and poetry are a way to transform someone’s life in theater. In Gabrielle Roth’s words “Dancing, singing, storytelling and silence are the four universal healing salves.”
One major shift in my practice was understanding the difference between the two countries and their citizens. In Lebanon, I mostly performed for people who were surviving – living in the aftermath of war, economic collapse, and societal trauma. Playback was a tool for resilience, for speaking truths in the face of instability. But in France, the priorities are different. I had to let go of my assumptions and shift perspectives and discover the people’s history, societal and individual narratives.
Little by little, I begin to feel more at ease. Each time I feel unsure, I turn to theory, to articles, to books – for grounding. I’m deeply grateful to Valentine and to the entire troupe for giving me a safe space to grow, to make mistakes, and to learn. I know I could stumble and still be held with care because we are growing together – as an ensemble. That trust gives me the strength to give more, to work harder, and to show up with authenticity.
You can find out more about Place au Jeu Playback Theatre here: www.place-au-jeu.fr
Thought Pieces
The Values of Playback Theatre and the Intersection with Social Activism in a Polarizing World
By Christian Faber
Introduction
In a world increasingly marked by social and political tensions, Playback Theatre plays a unique role in fostering dialogue, empathy, and mutual understanding. Integrating social activism into Playback Theatre brings both opportunities and challenges, especially in a polarised society. This article explores how social activism can enrich the values of Playback Theatre, the potential risks involved, and how to ensure that the dialogue remains open, empathic, and inclusive.
Discussion
Playback Theatre is a unique and powerful form of improvisational theatre where audience members share personal stories that are then immediately enacted by the actors. This artistic practice is underpinned by a set of core values, including empathy, respect, equality, inclusion, openness, trust, mindfulness, truthfulness, creativity, and tolerance. These values guide the interactions between actors and audiences, fostering a space for meaningful dialogue and communal understanding. However, in an increasingly polarised world, where social and political divides are deepening, the intersection of Playback Theatre and social activism can both enhance and challenge these values, presenting opportunities and risks that merit careful consideration.
The Values of Playback Theatre
Empathy is at the heart of Playback Theatre, as it requires actors to deeply listen and connect with the personal experiences shared by audience members. This process of empathetic engagement allows stories to be portrayed in a way that honours the emotional truths of the storyteller.
Respect follows closely, ensuring that each story is treated with dignity and without judgment. Respect within the ensemble is equally crucial, as it fosters a collaborative environment where all members feel valued and supported.
Equality and inclusion are fundamental, as Playback Theatre invites stories from people of all backgrounds, creating a platform for voices that might otherwise go unheard. This inclusivity is vital for reflecting the diversity of human experience.
Openness to different perspectives and experiences is essential in Playback Theatre, allowing for a broad range of stories to be told and understood. This openness is coupled with mindfulness, ensuring that actors remain present and attentive to the emotional and energetic nuances of the stories being shared.
Trust between the ensemble and the audience is critical, as it enables the spontaneous and vulnerable sharing of personal stories. This trust underpins the safe and supportive environment necessary for Playback Theatre to thrive.
Truthfulness in representation ensures that the essence of each story is conveyed with authenticity, while creativity allows for these stories to be brought to life in engaging and meaningful ways. Finally, tolerance fosters an environment where differing opinions and experiences are not only accepted but valued, creating a space for honest and open dialogue.
Social Activism and Its Contribution to Playback Theatre Values
Social activism can significantly enhance the values of Playback Theatre. By bringing attention to pressing social issues, activism can deepen the empathy and respect within the ensemble and audience, encouraging a greater understanding of diverse lived experiences. When Playback Theatre is used to address social issues—such as racial inequality, gender discrimination, or climate change—it can amplify the voices of those who are marginalized, aligning with the values of equality and inclusion.
Furthermore, social activism encourages openness and tolerance, challenging both actors and audiences to confront their own biases and preconceptions. In this way, activism can enrich the theatre experience, making it not only an artistic endeavour but also a tool for social change. Activism can also enhance creativity within Playback Theatre, as actors explore new ways to engage audiences with complex social issues, using their artistry to inspire reflection and action.
Risks of Social Activism in a Polarised World
In today’s increasingly polarised world, where ideological divides are more pronounced, social activism can present particular risks to the core values of Playback Theatre. One significant risk is the potential for exacerbating polarisation. Activism often involves advocating for specific viewpoints, which can lead to divisive or confrontational dynamics. This polarisation can challenge the value of openness, as it may create an environment where certain stories or perspectives are dismissed or marginalised, rather than being embraced with empathy and respect.
Another risk is the instrumentalisation of personal stories. In a polarised context, there is a danger that stories shared by audience members may be co-opted to serve a specific political or social agenda. This can undermine the values of truthfulness and respect, as the authenticity of the story may be compromised in service of a broader cause.
Activism may also strain the value of tolerance, particularly if the focus on social issues leads to a dogmatic or prescriptive approach within the Playback Theatre. This could limit the diversity of perspectives that are welcomed and explored, reducing the inclusivity that is central to Playback Theatre.
In a polarised environment, there is also the risk that dialogue becomes less constructive and more adversarial. This shift could erode the creative spontaneity and emotional depth that define Playback Theatre, turning performances into battlegrounds for competing ideologies rather than spaces for communal reflection and connection.
Maintaining Open, Empathic, and Inclusive Dialogue
To balance the values of Playback Theatre with the aims of social activism in a polarised world, one may consider to adopt strategies that promote open, empathic, and inclusive dialogue. Some ideas:
Foster a Culture of Listening and Non-Judgment and encouraging all participants—both actors and audience members—to listen deeply and without judgment. The goal of Playback Theatre is to understand and reflect diverse experiences, not to endorse or oppose particular viewpoints.
Emphasize the Human Experience Over Ideological Positions by focusing on the personal and emotional aspects of the stories shared, rather than the political or ideological implications. This helps keep the Playback Theatre grounded in the human experience, making it easier to find common ground and foster empathy.
Create Space for Diverse Perspectives by actively seeking out and include stories from a wide range of perspectives, ensuring that the theatre remains a space for genuine dialogue and exchange. This diversity can help mitigate the risks of polarisation by highlighting the complexity of social issues.
Maintain the Integrity of Personal Stories by ensuring that the stories shared are represented authentically and not co-opted for a particular agenda. This respect for the storyteller’s truth is essential for maintaining trust and the value of truthfulness in Playback Theatre.
Promote Constructive Dialogue by consider facilitating discussions – after performances – that allow for reflection and dialogue, rather than debate. Participants can be encouraged to share their thoughts and feelings about the stories in a way that is constructive and supportive, fostering mutual understanding rather than division.
Cultivate Flexibility and Adaptability by being open to adjust the focus and approach of the performances based on the needs and dynamics of the audience. This flexibility can help ensure that the Playback Theatre remains responsive and relevant, even in a polarised context.
How can we mitigate the risks associated with social activism in Playback Theatre
Integrating social activism into Playback Theatre can greatly enrich performances by addressing important social issues, but it also presents certain risks. To mitigate these risks effectively, practitioners should consciously adopt practical strategies.
To reduce the risk of polarization, it’s essential to encourage inclusive narratives by actively seeking and representing diverse perspectives. Stories should be deliberately invited from multiple viewpoints on an issue, fostering empathy and preventing audiences from becoming entrenched in their positions. Additionally, focusing on universal human experiences such as belonging, love, loss, or hope, rather than ideological aspects alone, can bridge divides and reinforce shared humanity.
Another significant risk is the instrumentalization of personal stories, where individual experiences might be co-opted for specific agendas, thereby compromising authenticity. To avoid this, actors should be trained to prioritize authenticity, concentrating strictly on portraying the emotional truth and integrity of each storyteller’s experience. Establishing clear and transparent ethical guidelines is also critical, emphasizing the sanctity of each individual’s story and explicitly rejecting the use of narratives solely for advocacy purposes.
Maintaining tolerance and openness is equally vital, as activism can sometimes promote a dogmatic or prescriptive atmosphere that limits dialogue. Conductors should foster non-judgmental spaces, framing performances and discussions as open dialogues rather than debates. Participants should be encouraged to listen deeply and respectfully, acknowledging and appreciating differences without judgment. Employing neutral conducting techniques further ensures balanced, open discussions, helping redirect conversations gently but firmly if they become overly prescriptive or intolerant.
Preventing confrontational dynamics is also essential to preserving Playback Theatre’s creative spontaneity and emotional depth. Clear intentions and boundaries should be articulated at the outset of performances, emphasizing mutual understanding and emotional reflection rather than persuasion or argumentation. Engaging in structured reflective practices can help participants process emotions safely, reducing tensions and promoting empathy.
Ensuring constructive dialogue involves clearly distinguishing between dialogue and debate, encouraging participants to share personal reflections rather than engaging in ideological arguments. Clear ground rules emphasizing respectful interaction, empathetic listening, and curiosity should be communicated to foster meaningful exchanges.
Finally, cultivating adaptability and responsiveness helps practitioners navigate activist stances without hindering Playback Theatre’s flexibility. Performances should remain adaptable, allowing actors and conductors to pivot based on audience dynamics and emerging themes. Regular training and sensitization for adaptability skills equip practitioners to sensitively manage evolving dynamics and diverse emotional responses. By implementing these strategies, Playback Theatre can successfully integrate social activism while maintaining an inclusive, empathetic, and artistically enriching environment.
Conclusion
Playback Theatre and social activism have the potential to complement each other beautifully, with activism enriching the theatre’s values and broadening its reach. However, in a world where social and political divides are deepening, this intersection also presents challenges that must be navigated carefully to avoid compromising the core principles that make Playback Theatre a powerful and transformative art form. By adopting strategies that promote open, empathic, and inclusive dialogue, practitioners can ensure that Playback Theatre remains a space for meaningful connection and reflection, even in the face of polarisation. This balance is crucial for preserving the integrity of Playback Theatre’s values while also contributing meaningfully to social change.
About the author
Christian Faber is a dedicated professional and aviation enthusiast working since 1994 for an international organization in Brussels. He has worked in various leading positions and currently serves as a trainer and instructor, sharing his expertise with others. Through his profession, he has been exposed to many different cultures and trained extensively on cultural dimensions. He brings a unique blend of empathy, strategic insight, and intercultural awareness to his work.
A passionate advocate for Playback Theatre, Christian has been an active member of the community since 2008. He was part of the Playback group ViceVersa in Brussels for many years and completed multiple training levels including Basic, Conducting, Advanced, and Leadership (2016). He co-organized the German Speaking Playback Gathering in Brussels (2012), served on the IPTN board (2015–2021), and has held leadership roles within the German-speaking Playback Theater Network (PBN), including vice president (2022–2024) and president (since 2025).
Christian is known for his ability to foster inclusive dialogue, manage complex group dynamics, and create safe, empathetic spaces for personal storytelling. His commitment to meaningful connection and community building makes him a respected and inspiring figure in both professional and artistic circles.
Frequently Asked Questions about Social Activist Playback Theatre
By Elsa Maurício Childs and Gerry Orkin
- What is social activism in Playback Theatre?
Social activism in Playback Theatre refers to the applied use of the form to amplify the voices of marginalised and oppressed people and to support efforts that address social and environmental harm and create positive social change. Prioritising and making space for those stories is an act of empathetic solidarity that is in line with the origins of Playback Theatre.
Playback Theatre was founded with social justice aims in mind. Its founders, Jo Salas and Jonathan Fox, were influenced by Paulo Freire’s critical pedagogy (1970) and by Moreno’s psychodrama, both traditions concerned, in their own ways, with liberation and social transformation.
Since the 1980s many Playback Theatre companies have collaborated on projects designed to make space for the stories of people who have been oppressed. Those projects have worked with people from many marginalised communities, e.g. refugees, queer and disabled people, and in support of activists concerned about social and environmental issues. Even when a performance is not intentionally focussed on social justice issues, Playback Theatre’s activist potential is always present. If a story told in a mainstream performance touches on injustice or social harm, conductors and actors can choose to bring those dimensions to life on the stage, in appropriate, proportionate and safe ways.
An activist Playback Theatre recognises that attempting to be neutral in the face of oppression is ethically unjustifiable. Equally, an activist Playback Theatre understands that reducing polarisation is a worthy goal, but not if it is based on creating false equivalences between situations that are not morally or ethically equivalent.
An activist Playback Theatre is also about tensions and choices. How do we conceptualise our practice in terms of our own identities and privileges? How do we work with the tensions between inclusiveness and the aims of our activism? How do we make our companies more diverse, more ethical and more equitable places of justice? How do we build Playback Theatre ecosystems that include self-reflective practice, social justice-focussed knowledge and skills development and partnership building with communities of need and make a meaningful contribution towards a more just world?
2. What is the relationship between personal stories and broader social justice narratives in Playback Theatre?
Playback Theatre thrives on personal stories, but those stories do not exist in a vacuum. They often carry with them the imprints of oppressive systems and ideologies like racism, patriarchy, colonialism, capitalism, to name but a few, that shape individual experience. In playback, our task is not just to represent the teller’s emotional truth, but to reveal how that truth is connected to larger collective patterns. A story about being harassed on public transit, for instance, may be deeply personal, but it may also be about gendered space, racial profiling or disability invisibility. When playback honours both the specificity of the teller and the broader forces at play, it helps communities see how the personal is always already political, as we have stated above. That is not about politicising stories that are not political. Rather, it is about refusing the false divide between private pain and public struggle. As feminist theorists like Audre Lorde and bell hooks have argued, storytelling becomes transformative when it connects lived experience to structures of power.
In playback, the audience is not passive. They are implicated. Recognising their own place in the systemic backdrop of someone else’s story can be unsettling, yes, but also necessary. When those links are made with care and deep respect for everyone’s basic humanity, playback does not just reflect society, but it remakes how we perceive it. Our goal is not to extract political meaning from every story, but to remain attuned to the political conditions that give rise to stories in the first place. Social justice playback does not force narratives into ideological frames. It listens deeply, actively and lets the story and the enactment reveal their own connections to the world.
3. Does Playback Theatre need to avoid polarisation when addressing justice issues or can it embrace discomfort and tension?
Avoiding polarisation in social justice-focused Playback Theatre does not mean avoiding conflict. It means creating the specific conditions where differences can be held, examined and transformed, rather than silenced or flattened. True polarisation often emerges when complex stories are reduced to ideological slogans or when participants feel unheard or judged. One way playback avoids this is by foregrounding lived experience over opinion. Personal storytelling shifts the focus from abstract positions to embodied truths. This humanises even painful or politically charged topics, allowing room for nuance. When someone shares what a law or cultural norm has meant in their life and not just what they think about it, it becomes harder to dismiss them.
Another key strategy is cultivating ensemble and audience readiness. Facilitators must assess whether the group can hold difference respectfully and whether the performers are trained to play across this complexity. That takes work. It means practicing how to represent multiple truths in one enactment, how to challenge a harmful idea without shaming the teller and how to recognise when the room is too charged to proceed safely. And, more centrally, it means that we can only expect to bring together oppressed communities and individuals and their oppressors, when the latter are ready to recognise their position as oppressors and those oppressed by them have consented to this moment and strategy. And when we, as practitioners, are ready to name oppression when it is both maliciously or unconsciously expressed. Playback Theatre does not aim for false balance. As Jonathan Fox and Jo Salas (2021) have defended, playback is not about equal airtime, but about restoring dignity where it has been denied (see also Salas 2024). Avoiding polarisation is not about avoiding discomfort. It is mainly about guiding the room through a discomfort that is generative, not destructive. This requires a deep ethical commitment to justice, humility in facilitation and an understanding that listening is not passive, but an act of relationship across difference and across power dynamics.
4. Can Playback Theatre be truly neutral and non-judgemental or is it inherently political?
Playback Theatre cannot escape its political nature. Despite what appears to be, at first glance, a well-intentioned idea of being non-judgemental, the process of listening, choosing and reenacting stories is saturated with social, cultural and political meaning. Playback practitioners (conductors, actors and musicians) decide which voices to highlight, which gestures to emphasise and which silences to preserve. At its best, those decisions are not neutral; they are deliberate and should be deeply ethical. As Kathy Barolsky argues, Playback is not only a tool for empathy, but also a mechanism for re-storying trauma and injustice through collective witness (Barolsky, 2021). Neutrality, in this sense, becomes a form of passive complicity with dominant narratives.
Artificial intelligence systems also offer a parallel. Just as algorithms reflect the values of their programmers and training data, playback reflects the ideologies of its facilitators. The myth of objectivity in either case disguises who holds power. Neutrality, then, is not just impossible, but it is a distraction form the inner mechanisms of power and an erasure of its consequences for communities and individuals. By framing playback as a space for critical reflection and ethical stance-taking, practitioners can choose to surface counter-narratives rather than passively mirror society. Ben Rivers and Jiwon Chung (2017) describe playback as a transformative practice that carries social change potential precisely because it is relational, embodied and subjective. It provides a container for voices otherwise ignored or misrepresented. Far from being neutral, playback is most impactful when it acknowledges its own biases and wields them in service of equity and repair, a stance that is inherently political.
5. What theoretical frameworks support justice-oriented practice in Playback Theatre?
Among many other sources, the work of political philosophers Nancy Fraser and Axel Honneth and sociologist C. Wright Mills supports a justice-oriented practice in the arts, including Playback Theatre.
For Fraser, social justice comprises the justice of equitable redistribution of wealth and the justice of recognition, which includes social inclusion, respect for diverse identities and addressing discrimination and marginalisation. Axel Honneth describes humans as beings that constantly seek recognition, defined as a need for love, respect and solidarity. Such recognition is necessary to maintain a good relationship with self and others and for the development of identity and psychological wellbeing (Fraser & Honneth, 2004). Playback Theatre cannot redistribute wealth, but it can contribute significantly to the justice of recognition. It can embody the social meanings in personal stories, acknowledge their impact for the benefit of tellers and audiences and express respect, promote solidarity and contribute to the enhancement of social esteem. Through that recognition, it can positively impact the psychological wellbeing of individuals who have experienced injustice.
Even when a performance is not specifically focused on social justice, there is theoretical support for an active consideration of the social dimensions of stories in C. Wright Mills’ concept of the “sociological imagination” (Wright Mills,1959). “Sociological imagination” describes a quality of mind that is sensitive to the relationship between personal experience and social forces. In contrast, our “psychological imagination” describes a quality of mind that is sensitive to a story’s emotional and psychological contexts. A psychological imagination is essential in Playback Theatre, but it typically dominates, so we often emphasise only the personal contexts of stories and miss their important social meanings. For example, a woman’s story about negative body image might be understood as a story about individual shame or insecurity. Seen through the lens of a sociological imagination, we are also invited to consider the impact of social forces on the teller. Sensitive embodiment on stage of the unjust harm caused to many women by the beauty industry and by cultural ideals of femininity can be a transformative experience, liberating a teller from feelings of personal responsibility and shame.
Beyond those three examples, there is strong theoretical support for using participatory theatre (including Playback Theatre) in justice-orientated arts practices. For example, Paulo Freire (on critical pedagogy and popular theatre), Michael White (on narrative therapy and social construction), Kimberlé Crenshaw (on feminist and intersectional theory), Ignacio Martín-Baró (on community and liberation psychology), Howard Zehr (on restorative and transformative justice) and Judith Herman (on trauma-informed practice) have all made contributions that inform justice-oriented practice in Playback Theatre.
6. What specific activities or practices define a social justice-centred Playback Theatre?
Social justice-centred Playback Theatre goes beyond empathetic, deep, active listening; it deliberately creates conditions that prioritise equity, safety and the amplification of marginalised voices. One foundational practice is trauma-informed facilitation. Conductors are trained to recognise power dynamics in the room and ensure that storytelling occurs with full consent, transparency and follow-up support if necessary. That is not mere performative safety, it is rooted in community accountability. That means that empathetic, deep, active listening inherently strives to hear all elements that a story holds, including its implications for the whole audience in the room and the communities outside the room.
Another core practice is curating playback environments where historically silenced voices are explicitly welcomed. That can involve hosting story circles with groups often pushed to the margins, like undocumented workers, migrants, refugees, LGBTQIAP+ people, formerly and presently incarcerated individuals, and preparing performers to engage with the complexity of those narratives without co-opting, simplifying or tokenising them. Language access, cultural mediation and disability accommodations are also absolutely central in this curation.
Moreover, playback for social justice includes regular debriefs within companies and playback facilitators in general, not just to reflect artistically, but to interrogate how power was present in the room. Playback can serve as a space of social, cultural and political resistance when it centres its reflection on the racial, gendered and/or economic hierarchies that emerge during the process. Training in playback cannot and should not be limited to acting technique. Practitioners need to undergo anti-oppression education, learn about local struggles and co-develop ethics protocols with the communities they serve. Story selection, enactment and musical underscoring are all approached with attention to systemic patterns, not just personal emotion.
Ultimately, those practices redefine playback from an artform of mere response and reaction to one of interpretation and, when needed, intervention. Its aim is not just to reflect stories, but to contribute to their transformation and to the conditions in which more just stories can unfold.
7. What are some examples of activist Playback Theatre being used for social justice?
The Freedom Theatre’s Freedom Bus in Occupied Palestine
Created in 2011, The Freedom Bus tours towns, villages, Bedouin encampments and refugee camps throughout the West Bank using Playback Theatre for cultural activism to bear witness, raise awareness and build alliances throughout occupied Palestine and beyond. The initiative uses Playback Theatre for community-building, cultural activism and collective trauma response.
Hudson River Playback Theatre’s Immigrant Stories Project
This 8-year project included over 100 bilingual performances for immigrant groups in New York’s Hudson Valley, funded by the Dyson Foundation. The project served immigrants from many countries including Haiti, China, Bangladesh, Kosovo, and Spanish-speaking nations, with stories from the first 20 shows published in a bilingual book, “Half of My Heart/La Mitad de Mi Corazón”.
Identity, Performance and Social Action Project with refugees in London
This project was based at the University of East London and used Playback Theatre with Kosovan, Kurdish, Somali and mixed refugee groups to explore the construction and politics of identity and belonging. The project allowed refugees to narrate crucial moments in their lives since coming to Britain, particularly highlighting conflicts between constructions of self, community and society.
Chautari Natak, Nepal
Chautari Natak has been working in Nepal since 2015. The project uses a locally adapted form of Playback Theatre that combines traditional Nepali gathering spaces with theatrical storytelling for healing and reconciliation. The name combines Chautari (traditional Nepali gathering spaces under trees) with Natak (theatre/drama). The project turns the sharing of personal stories into opportunities for the socio-cultural empowerment of participants and for promotion of social cohesion. It has a particular focus on marginalised communities including ex-combatants, ethnic minorities and those affected by Nepal’s decade-long civil conflict.
Jeevika, the Bonded Labour Liberation Front, Karnataka, India
Jeevika is a grassroots activist organisation of former bonded (enslaved) labourers that has been working since 1993 to eradicate bonded labour and oppressive social structures in Karnataka, India. Jeevika has incorporated Playback Theatre both within villages and internally, with leaders noting that the practice helps sustain meaningful relationships between members and strengthens the movement by bringing people together to share personal stories, thereby challenging the social fragmentation and divisions that caste-based systems tend to impose.
Theatre of Friendship, Sri Lanka
Theatre of Friendship is a Sri Lankan initiative using Playback Theatre to foster reconciliation and understanding between communities divided by the civil war and the country’s colonial history. It was established in 2012 and aims to create spaces for dialogue and bridge social and structural divisions, building long-term cross-cultural alliances between people of Tamil, Sinhalese and Muslim backgrounds.
Creating Community Justice Project, Melbourne, Australia
The Creating Community Justice Project brought together African-Australians from Sudanese, South Sudanese and Ethiopian backgrounds and members of the criminal justice system to discuss their experiences of justice and community justice issues. Melbourne Playback used storytelling, performance and games to build trust between the participants and empower them to communicate their stories with confidence. The project also developed leadership and public speaking skills, allowing participants to make a powerful presentation of their work in a way that engaged the justice system.
8. How can Playback Theatre challenge rather than reinforce dominant, oppressive narratives?
Playback Theatre challenges dominant narratives by opening a space for counter-stories, for stories that contradict or complicate the ones most visible in mainstream media, policy or education. That can only happen when practitioners are trained to recognise structural inequalities and inequities and work actively to avoid reinscribing them through their performance.
Oppressive narratives often show up (and this is a very important point to underline and for us to be aware of) not through overt malice, but through the normalisation of certain experiences as universal. As Ben Rivers and Jiwon Chung argue, Playback Theatre makes the invisible visible, allowing suppressed histories of colonisation, racism, displacement, marginalisation and discrimination to become embodied and seen in real time. The structure of playback, especially when used in community-based contexts, gives marginalised storytellers authority over the frame and interpretation of their experience, over their own narrative.
However, this is not automatic. The danger lies in uncritical re-performance, re-enactment: repeating a story without interrogating its context or the social meanings behind it. For example, enacting a story of dealing with poverty without addressing structural causes like housing injustice or wage inequality risks romanticising hardship rather than challenging its roots. To avoid that, we must cultivate critical empathy, an ability to feel with a story while also situating it politically. That means listening with curiosity and also with historical, social and political awareness. The teller’s dignity must be honoured, but so must the systems that shape their world be named.
Playback becomes politically potent not when it merely reflects, but when it disturbs the smooth surface of dominant culture. It is not enough to give voice to individuals and communities. Our practice must also equip communities to question who benefits from the current narrative order and how storytelling can become a tool of resistance, not just relief.
9. How can Playback practitioners uphold accountability when addressing oppression, even when it is unintentional?
Social activist Playback Theatre practitioners inevitably make mistakes but can minimise their impact and commit to accountability by establishing clear protocols before projects and performances begin, by using reflective processes and empowering community members to give feedback after each performance or, in urgent cases, to interrupt performances in real-time if harm occurs.
If oppression occurs (whether through misrepresentation of cultural elements, reinforcement of stereotypes or dismissal of systemic context), the ensemble, through the conductor, must immediately acknowledge the impact without defensiveness, even if the harm was unintentional. That acknowledgement can occur during the performance, if that is required. Opportunities to meet with affected community members after the performance must also be offered. Communities who experience oppression in a playback context are not expected to support the ensemble. Companies must have robust internal debriefing process in place, so that they can internally process mistakes and support each other after performances (with a supervisor or mentor, if necessary). For internal purposes, calling in, rather than calling out fellow ensemble members is preferred (Ross, 2025)
More generally, accountability requires ongoing education and regular supervision with experienced mentors. Most importantly, practitioners must understand that intent does not negate impact: if a performance causes harm, the focus should be on repair and learning rather than explaining how no harm was intended. That includes being willing to step back from ongoing work, recognising that accountability sometimes means accepting that your ensemble or Playback Theatre as a form might not be suited to working with a particular community or on a particular issue, regardless of your desire to be of service.
10. What ethical considerations must guide Playback practitioners when representing trauma or marginalised voices?
Representing trauma in Playback Theatre demands an ethics of responsibility, not just compassion. When marginalised voices speak, they often carry histories of silencing, distortion, tokenism and/or voyeurism. Practitioners must be mindful that even well-intentioned performances can retraumatise or unintentionally reproduce harm if enacted without consent, training and contextual awareness.
A central ethical principle is the idea of co-regulation: the space must support emotional processing without pushing tellers or performers beyond what feels safe. That means respecting boundaries, understanding cultural differences in storytelling and in enactments and never using a story as a dramatic opportunity. As Jonathan Fox has stressed so many times, playback is a ritual of relationship and, in ritual, every role carries responsibility for the collective emotional space. Consent in playback is ongoing. Tellers may offer their story in the moment, but their body language and tone must also be read with care. Performers must know how to play trauma (individual, social, political) with restraint and dignity, avoiding caricature or over-dramatisation and be prepared to play less, through poetry, metaphor and symbol, when that best serves the teller’s integrity.
Ethical representation also includes self-reflexivity: asking whose story is being centred, who is watching and listening and who has the cultural knowledge to interpret and perform it responsibly. Without this, well-meaning ensembles can slide into what bell hooks called “eating the other” (hooks, 1992 ; see also, for a playback-centred approach on the same theme as this, Rowe, 2007, chapters 9 and 10), turning pain into performance for liberal consumption. Ethics in playback is not a checklist, but an evolving practice of accountability. When working with trauma or marginalised identities, we, as individuals, as companies and as playback facilitators in general, should always ask whether we are making room for healing and deep sharing or if we are merely stealing the stage.
11. How can Playback Theatre amplify marginalised voices without appropriating their stories or erasing cultural specificity?
Playback companies can avoid appropriating stories and erasing or misrepresenting cultural specificity by building meaningful and accountable relationships with marginalised communities. That ongoing process allows for trust-building, deeper cultural understanding and co-ownership of collaborations, projects and performances.
At the heart of those relationships is work with informants who can advise about cultural contexts, histories and current realities for the communities they represent. Recognising that different cultures have different approaches to public storytelling, audience participation, and emotional expression, informants help playback ensembles develop deeper understandings of the values, communication styles and storytelling traditions of each community they seek to work with. Based on those understandings, ensembles can, where necessary, adapt playback rituals and processes to align with community norms, rather than unilaterally imposing established Playback Theatre conventions.
Accountability also operates at a more granular level. For example, rather than performers unilaterally interpreting stories, it might sometimes be appropriate to create space for dialogue in which tellers can speak directly about what they want to see enacted and can offer feedback before an enactment is considered complete. In some cases, it might be appropriate to establish protocols about the ways that tellers can stop or redirect an enactment, in situations where the performers have inadvertently misrepresented the meaning or cultural context of a story. Stories of marginalisation are rarely experienced solely at the personal level, so an accountable practice must also acknowledge and represent broader systems of oppression. That approach prevents systemic issues from being oversimplified as merely personal experiences, while still respecting and valuing individual stories.
Recognising that marginalised communities are experts on their own stories and don’t need theatrical rescue, playback companies must be willing to follow community leadership, accept honest feedback, step back when our services aren’t wanted and prioritise long-term relationship-building and accountability over the emotional satisfaction of feeling helpful through our dramatic enactments of a community’s stories.
12. What role does the conductor play in shaping or framing social justice narratives during performance?
The conductor is not a neutral facilitator, but a narrative gatekeeper. Their questions shape which themes emerge, how stories are contextualised and how power circulates in the room. In social justice-based/aware/centred playback, the conductor’s role becomes inherently political, because they guide the group’s collective attention toward inequity or away from it. A skilled conductor does not simply listen to individual stories; they track systemic threads running between them. When a teller speaks about an eviction or a microaggression, the conductor might draw out broader forces at play, like housing discrimination or racial bias, for example, without speaking over the teller. A conductor’s role is also to find the intersection of personal and political meaning. Just as we know, from the fundamental lesson second-wave feminism has taught us, that the personal is always political.
Tone also matters. A conductor who responds with empathy, but avoids naming the social forces behind a story, risks reinforcing the illusion that injustice and inequity are merely unfortunate rather than structural. Conversely, conductors who bring courage and awareness to naming injustice can turn playback into a space of recognition and resistance. Furthermore, the conductor models relational ethics. By how they intervene, frame transitions and invite reflection, they influence how performers and audience understand their own roles in systems of harm or solidarity. They can shift playback from being a mirror of the moment to a lens through which new individual, social, political and community understanding emerges.
Ultimately, the conductor’s choices either replicate the status quo or create space for its disruption. There is no neutrality here; only the question of which stories are made visible and who is allowed to see them in full.
13. How does Playback Theatre navigate power dynamics between performers, audiences and within ensembles?
The fundamental power dynamic in Playbook Theatre is both intimate and asymmetrical. Audience members hold the power of story ownership and vulnerability (as the originator of the theatrical moment), but the ensemble holds ultimate interpretive power, as they make choices about how they embody the teller’s narrative. The key to navigating that tension is in managing consent, checking in with the teller before and after the enactment and in conceptualising the work as collective meaning-making, as something we are exploring with the person, rather than just being about them.
Beyond that, Playback Theatre operates within cultural contexts that shape who participates, who attends performances, whose stories are told and who enacts those stories. Those factors are often shaped by power dynamics and require thoughtful navigation across race, class, gender, sexuality (and other social identity markers) and in terms of the structural and relationship dynamics within companies. The invitation to attend performances and tell stories is itself culturally loaded. Broadly speaking, middle class audiences usually feel more comfortable claiming space, while others may be reluctant to share stories they perceive as being less worthy. Given Playback Theatre’s emphasis on aesthetic interpretation and psychological reflection, the form can also be more accessible to audience members who are already comfortable with therapy-speak and artistic expression.
Who gets to participate also reflects the dynamics of power. To ensure that audiences can recognise themselves and their life experiences represented on stage, effort is needed to recruit and retain culturally-diverse representation, but also to protect against burdening individual members with the responsibility of representing all aspects of diversity or having to educate others about the experience of exclusion and difference. To address that risk, companies can implement strategies that improve everyone’s cultural competency, including their ability to work with diverse communities and with stories involving trauma or oppression.
There are other power dynamics at play. If only some people can afford the time and financial costs of participation in training, the ensemble inevitably reflects economic privilege. Scholarship and sponsorship support within companies can make attendance at external training possible for people who are otherwise unable to attend.
Within ensembles, the dynamics of power can be particularly complex. Power imbalances emerge around experience levels and within certain leadership structures. Successful ensembles typically develop agreements about how leadership is shared, rotation of roles, feedback mechanisms and collective decision-making processes. The most effective companies tend to be those that recognise that power sharing enhances rather than diminishes the work of the company and can help strengthen relationships between members. A socially activist Playback Theatre recognises that addressing power dynamics within ensembles is not just about effective administration and the quality of individual interactions and relationships, but is also about creating structures that support equity and justice in our broader work.
14. How can Playback Theatre be aligned with movements for transformative justice, such as abolitionism, decolonisation and anti-capitalism?
Abolitionism seeks to dismantle criminal justice punishment systems while building alternatives for addressing harm, rooted in healing and accountability rather than retribution. Playback Theatre itself models what abolitionists envision: communities coming together to witness, hold complexity and imagine different futures without relying on rigid authority structures to impose solutions. The form can support the goals of abolition by creating spaces that demonstrate alternatives to punishment and isolation. Companies can invite stories of accountability, healing and community response to harm, partner with restorative justice organisations and post-incarceration support services and create brave spaces where people who have caused and experienced harm can share stories in the same room.
Decolonisation is the process of dismantling systems of cultural and economic domination and returning stolen land, power and self-determination to Indigenous peoples, while undoing the mindsets and structures that perpetuate colonial violence. In a Playback Theatre context, decolonisation means examining whose stories get told and how they are interpreted. Other ways to align with decolonisation include examination of the theatrical traditions embedded in the form, experimenting with collective facilitation, examining how personal stories often get stripped of their cultural context and shifting our interpretive focus toward collective experience rather than only prioritising individual healing.
Anti-capitalism challenges the exploitation inherent in capitalism, where profit comes before people, and envisions economic systems based on mutual aid, more collective ownership, and meeting everyone’s needs. Anti-capitalist playback means questioning the economics of the form, examining the conditions that make playback accessible only to those with leisure time and resources, offering sliding scale training fees, scholarships, sponsorships, free community performances and questioning our professional relationships with profit-led corporate entities.
More generally, to align with those movements, playback companies can create opportunities for performances about collective resistance, mutual aid and systemic transformation, rather than only about personal experiences. Those events can be organised in collaboration with grassroots organisations already doing anti-abolitionist, decolonising and anti-capitalist work. The beauty of playback is its flexibility: it can evolve to serve liberation rather than merely reflecting the world as it is. When we perform stories of transformative justice in action, we help audiences imagine and practice the world we are building together.
15. What competencies, training and critical awareness must practitioners develop to engage meaningfully in justice-based work?
To engage in social justice work, playback practitioners need, simultaneously, deep performance skills and a deep, ongoing commitment to political education, cultural humility, and critical self-reflection. One of our most essential competencies is an understanding of intersectionality. Practitioners must learn how race, gender, class, disability and other identity categories interact in complex, context-specific ways. Without that understanding, we risk simplifying or misrepresenting the lived realities we seek to honour. That calls for formal training in anti-oppression frameworks, facilitated by educators rooted in lived experience, not just theory.
Another key area is group facilitation that centres equity. That includes conflict mediation, trauma-informed practices and knowledge of power dynamics in mixed groups. In playback, improvisation is not just artistic, it must be ethical. Practitioners need to know how to represent in a way that avoids the use of cliches, appropriation, stereotyping or tokenism. Listening skills are paramount, but not just active listening in the therapeutic sense. Practitioners must develop a critical consciousness, the ability to hear the political content in personal narrative and to respond accordingly.
Just as importantly, playback practitioners must be willing to confront their own biases and privileges. That means engaging in difficult conversations, taking feedback and being accountable to the communities they serve. Ongoing mentorship, peer learning, supervision and reflective practice circles help sustain this. Engagement with social movements also requires relationship-building. Practitioners should be embedded in the communities and causes they support, not dropping in as artistic saviours, but showing up consistently and in solidarity, even (if not especially) in their own daily lives. Playback for justice is not just a performance practice. It is a deep social and political practice and it must be treated with the gravity and training that such work requires.
16. How does trauma-informed practice shape Playback Theatre’s engagement with social justice issues?
Trauma-informed practice fundamentally shapes how Playback Theatre engages with social justice issues by centring safety, containment, consent and healing in the theatrical process. That integration recognises that many social justice issues arise from or perpetuate systemic trauma, requiring careful attention to how stories are shared, witnessed, and enacted.
Effective trauma-informed Playback Theatre requires that multiple layers of safety are established before an ensemble responds to difficult social issues. For example, conductors need to establish clearer agreements about consent, confidentiality, boundaries and the right to pass. And where possible, the physical space is arranged to support both tellers and audience members who might be triggered by the content of stories told. That preparation helps people safely engage with topics like racism, poverty or violence, while holding agency over their own participation. Trauma-informed Playback Theatre emphasises informed consent and ongoing choice. Tellers maintain control over how much detail to share, can stop or redirect their story at any point, and, in contrast with the traditional playback ritual, can, where appropriate, collaborate with actors in shaping the enactment. That approach helps avoid the risks of re-traumatisation that can occur when people feel their experiences are being interpreted without their full consent or understanding.
A key aspect of trauma-informed practice in Playback Theatre is the way it transforms social justice from individual struggle to a process of collective healing. When someone shares a traumatic story, the conductor’s reflection, the actors’ careful embodiment and the audience’s witnessing can create a container for processing shared trauma. That collective holding can validate experiences that are often minimised or denied.
Trauma-informed Playback Theatre recognises that individual stories often reflect broader systemic issues. It creates space to explore how personal experiences connect to larger patterns of oppression while minimising the possibility of re-traumatisation that can occur when people feel reduced to their trauma. The focus shifts from simply telling difficult stories to understanding how communities can support healing and change. That approach requires ongoing attention to power dynamics within the Playback Theatre space itself. Trauma-informed practice invites conductors and ensembles to more carefully consider who gets to tell stories, whose voices are centred and how cultural differences in trauma responses are honoured.
As part of a trauma-informed approach, rather than leaving participants feeling overwhelmed by injustice, trauma-informed Playback Theatre aims to build collective resilience and agency. Conductors invite stories of resistance, individual community strength and the celebration of small victories, alongside stories of struggle. That balanced approach helps individuals and communities process pain while maintaining hope and capacity for action.
17. What are the implications of prioritising “safe spaces” versus “brave spaces” in justice-oriented Playback Theatre?
Safe spaces in Playback Theatre emphasise protection and comfort, creating environments where tellers from marginalised communities can share difficult experiences without fear of judgment, re-traumatisation or harm. That approach involves content warnings, ground rules about language and the right to opt out of participation. The conductor actively monitors and manages the emotional temperature and atmosphere during performances, helping create conditions where people who have been silenced can begin to find their voice. In contrast, brave spaces acknowledge that meaningful engagement with justice issues sometimes involves discomfort and risk (Arao & Clemens, 2013). They invite participants to embrace that discomfort, challenge each other’s assumptions, and remain present with difficult emotions, rather than avoiding them. In Playback Theatre, that might mean allowing more confronting stories to emerge, encouraging direct dialogue about issues like privilege and oppression and resisting the impulse to paper over fundamental differences.
Safe spaces tend to centre the needs of those most harmed by injustice, but that can limit the potential for transformation by prioritising the comfort of all participants over those who have been marginalised or oppressed. Brave spaces may better serve the goal of changing minds and challenging systems, but they risk re-traumatising those already marginalised while placing emotional labour on those least able to bear it.
Effective justice-oriented Playback Theatre often means using both approaches in sequence. Initial work prioritises safety to build trust and allow marginalised voices to emerge. As a sense of community develops, the work can gradually move toward braver engagement that challenges assumptions and explores systemic change. The choice depends on the specific community and context. Experienced activist organisers might benefit from brave space challenges, while communities beginning to heal from collective trauma might need extended safe space work before engaging in more challenging dialogue. The conductor’s role becomes crucial in reading the room and adapting the approach moment by moment. They must assess whether the ensemble has sufficient trust and skill to handle challenging content and whether pushing toward bravery serves justice or reproduces harm. The most effective approach involves building capacity to hold both safety and bravery simultaneously, spaces where people can be vulnerable about their pain while also challenging each other to grow beyond their current understandings.
18. What are the risks or pitfalls of performative allyship or using Playback Theatre superficially for activism?
When Playback Theatre is used to appear activist without engaging the depth of real struggle, it can do more harm than good. Performative allyship, that is acting in solidarity only when visible, safe, simple or easy, risks turning storytelling into spectacle, especially when the pain of marginalised communities is mined for emotional or aesthetic impact without material accountability. A key risk is that our playback will become a comfort ritual for privileged audiences, where they can feel bad about injustice without being challenged to act. This kind of superficial engagement reinforces power rather than redistributing it. As Jiwon Chung warns, there is a danger when playback is used as “catharsis without consequence” (Rivers & Chung, 2017)
Another pitfall is tokenism, as we have mentioned before. Hosting one diversity playback event without integrating ongoing anti-oppression work into the ensemble’s practice or inviting marginalised tellers without giving them real narrative agency, erases the very equity the form we claim to support. Superficial activism can also damage relationships with communities who may already be wary of artistic extractivism. Playback is based on trust. If that trust is broken, if stories are mishandled, misrepresented or used to boost an ensemble’s image, it can retraumatise tellers and fracture community ties. To avoid those pitfalls, playback companies and playback facilitators must anchor themselves in humility and sustained solidarity. This means showing up for local movements beyond the stage, compensating tellers and facilitators fairly and consistently reflecting on their own complicity in systems of power. Playback that aligns with justice is not about performance alone. It becomes a practice defined by accountability, risk-taking and transformation, both onstage and off.
19. How can Playback Theatre foster empathy and solidarity across lines of difference such as race, gender and class?
Playback Theatre’s capacity to build bridges across difference lies in its ability to create space for complexity without hierarchy, allowing different experiences of oppression and injustice to coexist and inform each other, rather than compete. That potential also comes with risks that must be carefully navigated. The most powerful moments can happen when stories reveal shared experiences of marginalisation, while also recognising distinct and different realities. For example, when a trans woman shares about family rejection and a formerly incarcerated person tells of employment discrimination, an audience can be guided to recognise (and empathise about) similar patterns of systemic exclusion, but without erasing the specific ways transphobia and carceral punishment operate.
While empathy across lines of difference is essential, on its own empathy can be dangerous. There is a seductive fantasy that feeling someone else’s pain automatically creates solidarity, but, without a social and political analysis, empathy tends to just reinforce existing power structures and paper over important systemic challenges. A wealthy audience member might feel deeply moved by stories of housing insecurity while continuing to oppose affordable housing developments in their own neighbourhood. The risk is that empathetic emotional responses can become a substitute for material change.
A social activist Playback Theatre works best when it helps people understand not just individual suffering, but the systemic connections between almost all suffering. When stories reveal how the same economic forces that displace poor communities also criminalise poverty or how immigration enforcement and mass incarceration serve similar functions of social control, audiences begin to see how their struggles are interconnected rather than isolated. True solidarity emerges when people leave understanding that their liberation and wellbeing is fundamentally bound together, that none of us are free until all of us are free – and this phrase is not just a nice sentiment, but a strategic reality.
20. How can Playback Theatre companies build meaningful partnerships with social justice organisations and how do they evaluate their impact?
Building partnerships between Playback Theatre companies and social justice organisations starts with a shift in mindset: from being service providers to being collaborators. This means not arriving with a finished product or a presumed understanding of a community’s needs, but entering relationships slowly, respectfully and with a willingness to follow rather than lead, to learn rather than impose. Meaningful collaboration often begins with listening, outside of performance. Playback companies can attend local organising meetings, community events, and protests not to perform, but to witness and understand context. This groundwork helps establish trust, which is the foundation for any real partnership. Transparency about goals, values and limits is also crucial. Companies should be clear about what playback can offer: brave (and the difference between safe and brave spaces should always be addressed, as we have seen) spaces for expression, embodied storytelling, collective reflection, but also acknowledge where it is not a substitute for direct action, therapy or organising strategy. Or, maybe even more centrally, for therapy. Strong partnerships involve co-design. Instead of inviting a social justice group to use playback, ensembles can invite co-creation of events: setting themes together, choosing who is in the room and deciding how stories are used beyond the performance. This shared authorship reflects the ethical stance that movements know best what they need.
Ongoing evaluation is also key. playback companies should solicit feedback not just about the art but about the process, accessibility and cultural relevance of their work. Aspects like childcare and translation, for example, should all be considered part of making a partnership with a specific community real, not symbolic. Ultimately, partnerships thrive when layback is offered as a tool in service of a community’s long-term goals, not as an artistic intervention that centres the performers. Solidarity is measured in relationship, not visibility.
In conclusion, building meaningful partnerships with social justice organisations requires Playback Theatre companies to engage in sustained, reciprocal relationships grounded in trust and shared purpose. Collaborations are most effective when they are co-designed, with community partners shaping content, process and evaluation. Playback practitioners must listen deeply to organisational goals and offer their tools in ways that support, rather than co-opt, existing efforts. Evaluation in justice contexts goes beyond audience satisfaction; it involves assessing relational impact, narrative shifts and contributions to community-defined outcomes. Metrics may include qualitative feedback, long-term engagement or shifts in collective understanding. Impact is best understood as part of a broader ecology of change, rather than a singular outcome.
21. How does artistic quality intersect with social justice impact in activist Playback Theatre?
There is often an assumption that art for justice must compromise on aesthetic rigor, but, in Playback Theatre, artistic quality and social justice are not and should never be at odds. In fact, strong, poetic, non-literal artistic choices can deepen the impact of justice work when they emerge from attentiveness, deep, active listening, full presence and ethical rigor. Artistic quality in playback is not merely about technical perfection; it is about embodied truthfulness. When performers are fully present, when they play with emotional precision, meaningful artistic choices and relational attunement, stories land with greater resonance. This kind of enactment allows tellers to feel seen and communities to feel reflected not in an abstract or performative way, but in a way that invites change and allows tellers to see their stories from the outside, to reimagine them and to reframe them in a productive way.
Conversely, poor artistry, which may include wide range of issues, from flattened gestures and over or under-acting, to the use of cliches and stereotypes, unjustified literality, lack of symbolic and metaphorical resonance or problematic enactment timings, can dilute and disrespect even the most urgent stories. If a performance lacks meaningful artistry, the emotional message risks being lost. This does a disservice to both teller and audience. Injustice and inequity are already filled with misrepresentation; playback must resist adding more.
However, this does not mean art should ever override ethics. Stylisation that distorts meaning or virtuosity that centres the actor rather than the teller betray the form. Artistic choices must emerge in service of the story, not the ego of the ensemble. At its best, Playback Theatre becomes both aesthetically moving and politically consequential. The two are not separate paths, rather entwined expressions of justice through form, poetry, rhythm and radical listening.
22. What sources exist for practitioners seeking to use Playback Theatre for social justice activism?
A growing body of resources supports playback practitioners in aligning their work with social justice movements. Some of the most vital are writings by experienced practitioners who explicitly theorise playback as a justice-making practice. Ben Rivers and Jiwon Chung’s article Playback Theatre and Social Change (2017) outlines principles for grounding the work in equity, including dismantling privilege within ensembles and connecting personal stories to political frames. Rivers continues this work through workshops blending trauma-informed, psychodrama, and socially-engaged playback. Kathy Barolsky’s work offers a critical lens for practitioners pushing the form beyond its Eurocentric assumptions. Her diffractive review is available on ResearchGate and provides theoretical depth as well as practical insights. There has also been an increase in international offers, both in international gatherings and other forums, like specific trainings, courses and panels where issues of ethics, race, trauma and social transformation are increasingly foregrounded. Recent events have included panels on the ethics of playback (Playback in the Port) and antiracism in playback, decolonial approaches to gatherings planning and structuring, ensemble practice and gender equity in story facilitation, hands-on strategies for justice-oriented performance, including trauma-informed practices, cultural humility and ensemble ethics. Additionally, many social movements themselves have developed partnerships with playback groups and have documented their process. Collaborations with immigrant justice organisations, LGBTQIAP+ youth groups and prison abolition projects have produced toolkits and videos that can serve as models.
A rich ecosystem now supports Playback Theatre with a focus on justice and equity. HEED Playback Theatre, a global education initiative whose name stands for Healing, Equity, Empowerment and Diversity, offers an eight-day retreat and year-long mentorship precisely to help implement local playback projects grounded in social and environmental justice. Spazio Rebelde has recently hosted Embodying Change: Conducting Playback Theatre for Social Impact, led by Hani Al Rstum and Devrim Nicolò Turletti, and a series of conversations on accessibility in playback co-led by Michele Chung and Allison Kenny. Hani has also launched an online laboratory specifically on playback and social justice, an accessible resource for engagement beyond in-person events. Michele Chung, Lena Kalashnykova and Nour Wardani have deepened the discourse in the Playback in the Port round table and subsequent article Playback Theatre in Times of Civil Unrest and War, which explores facilitating in contexts of profound social and political rupture and with all their practice and teachings on accessibility and social justice at large. Jonathan Fox has recently completed the first edition of his Heart of the Art: Ethics for Playback Theatre online course, offering ethical frameworks for playback in general, including a reading of playback as a justice-oriented practice since its inception.
Also, looking forward, the next European Playback Theatre Gathering (EPTG) will be held in Salamanca, Spain (October 2–5, 2025), with a clear focus on playback as a language, space and tool for social justice, under the title Resilient Voices: Half a Century of Stories, framed by the ethical Manifesto of the Iberian Playback Theatre Association.
Finally, Leticia Nieto (and her-co-authors)’s seminal book Beyond Inclusion, Beyond Empowerment offers practitioners a powerful framework to analyse hidden and unconscious influences of oppression and cultivate everyday skills that promote justice, equity and self-awareness. Nieto too grounds playback practice in psychological and relational accountability.
Together, these resources, ranging from global programs, in-depth writings, online labs and conversations, ethics courses, activist workshops and major international gatherings, offer both theoretical rigor and grounded methodologies. They represent a compelling toolkit for any practitioner determined to make Playback Theatre not just an art form, but a meaningful intervention in the struggle for social justice. However, the richest resource remains long-term relational practice, learning in context, with communities, in dialogue. Playback for social justice is not a model to be applied. It is a commitment to listening, showing up and changing, not just other individuals and communities, but ourselves.
References
Arao, B., Clemens, K. (2013) From Safe Spaces to Brave Spaces: A New Way to Frame Dialogue Around Diversity and Social Justice, in The Art of Effective Facilitation. Routledge
Barolksy, K. (2021) Playback Theatre, social justice and empathy: A diffractive review. Applied Theatre Research, Volume 9, Issue 2
Fox, J., Salas, J. (2021) Playback Theatre and Social Change, in Personal Stories in Public Spaces: Essays on Playback Theatre by Its Founders. Tusitala Publishing
Fraser, N., & Honneth, A. (2004) Redistribution or Recognition?: A Political–Philosophical Exchange. Verso Books
Freire, P. (1970) Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Herder and Herer, New York
hooks, b. (1992) Eating the Other: Desire and Resistance, in Black Looks, Routledge 2014
Nieto, L., Boyer, M.F. Goodwin, L., Johnson, G.R., & Collier Smith, L. Beyond Inclusion, Beyond Empowerment. Cuetzpalin
Rivers B., Chung J. (2017) Playback Theatre and Social Change: Functions, Principles and Practices, Playback Theatre Reflects
Ross, L. J. (2025) Calling In: How to Start Making Change With Those You’d Rather Cancel. Simon & Schuster
Rowe, N. (2007) Playing the Other: Dramatizing Personal Narratives in Playback Theatre. Jessica Kingsley
Salas, J. (2024) The Tension Between Inclusiveness and Social Justice in Playback Theatre, Playback Theatre Reflects
Wright Mills, C. (1959) The Sociological Imagination, Oxford University Press
About the authors
Elsa Childs
Elsa has been practising playback since 2017. She is a Centre for Playback Theatre Accredited Playback Theatre Trainer, a graduate of the Centre’s Leadership program and a member of the faculty of the Iberian School of Playback Theatre, as well as a member of the board of the Iberian Playback Theatre Association, where she is responsible for ethics. In 2018, Elsa founded the Lisbon-based professional playback company InVerso, which she directs. She is a co-founding member of the Portuguese playback group Projecto Eco and the international online group Perspektives. She is also a co-founder of the HEED Playback Theatre project, an international program that trains and supports playback practitioners to develop projects for social and environmental justice in their own communities. Elsa views Playback Theatre as a tool for social justice and anti-oppression work. She brings poetry, dance and a deep aesthetic and ethical awareness to her practice.
Outside of playback, Elsa is an actor, producer and writer in non-playback theatre. She is a co-founding member of A Corda, a non-profit cultural association that creates multi-disciplinary works that integrate theatre, music and literature, and a co-founder of the interseccional feminist group Eufémias, which created the biennial Eufémia Festival (this year’s edition will be on Memory and Resistance on Stage).
Gerry Orkin
Gerry Orkin’s involvement with Playback Theatre began in 1985. He was an actor, conductor and co-director of Canberra Playback Theatre over a period of 25 years, and more recently he directed a playback company in Wollongong, New South Wales.
Gerry has a professional background in social policy and service development, working on issues like homelessness, violence against women and child protection for government and non-government agencies. He has co-created Playback Theatre projects on those themes, as well as on climate change, aged care, and in the juvenile justice and mental health systems.
Gerry has a passion for training conductors and working with the social dimensions of stories and issues of social justice. He’s led workshops on those topics in Australia, Singapore, Finland, Lithuania, the Netherlands, Italy, Germany, Greece, Bulgaria, Canada, South Africa, Hong Kong, India, the UK and Portugal.
Practitioner Resources
Some Thoughts on Music Making in Playback Theatre
By Jon Blend
Introduction
There is an old musos’ joke: a stranger, lost on her way to the performing arts centre in New York City, asks a passerby: “How do I get to Carnegie Hall?” “Practice, Practice, Practice!” comes the reply. And so it is with the musician’s role in Playback Theatre – the hours you put in to your craft here will surely help! Here are a bunch of ideas I’ve gathered – chew on anything that seems useful and spit out the rest!
Instrument setup and practical considerations
- It helps to be acquainted with the forms and how your troupe uses musical accompaniment: continuously (as in silent movies)? Or to top and tail/frame? Or to set the tone/atmosphere of what transpires and at times to sharpen the ending?
- It also helps to know your instrument(s): electric/electronic? Strings/brass/woodwind? Tuned or untuned percussion? Thinking practically, you will probably have to carry your gear around, so try to select a range of different sounding instruments that are likely to find use in the show. Robust ones if possible. Wrap anything fragile in a cloth.
- When in position, it’s worth practicing moving quietly from one instrument to another – do you have what you need within easy reach? Having a soft tablecloth helps – a few metres of inexpensive Draylon or velvet works well. This looks good and tends to absorb stray sounds when laying instruments down.
- If playing with more than one tuned instrument (and if tuning matters to you) – check – are they in tune with each other? Apart from clip on headstock tuners for guitars/strings etc there are now phone apps that do the job equally well.
Musical Techniques & Expressiveness
- A sound check is useful. Can you be heard sufficiently when needed? Or are you at risk of drowning out the dialogue/action? It’s helpful to try out the levels (dynamics) of your sounding during the warm-up with your fellow playbackers.
- Can you add to and reduce volume in the moment? Play lyrically? Raucously? Portray other moods? Playing may require divided attention at times. Are you able to follow the action (the gist of the story etc.) with your eyes whilst playing?
- Do you have a working agreement with the other actors/players that enables you to bring a scene to a close with a flourish/sharp ending if the telling seems to drift on, or is losing pace? A drum beat, a sharp clapping sound or a definitive loud chime can effectively add tension and clarity to an ending.
- The musician’s role potentially also encompasses singing. Some troupes will join you in this, harmonising etc. Others (including some musicians) may be less keen. If singing and/or vocalising interests you it’s worth practicing this in rehearsals. Sometimes, occasionally repeating a single sung word or a short phrase adds significantly to the narrative being played back – though do refrain from singing whole stanzas!
- Consider the use of silence too. Sometimes the act of cutting the music suddenly and falling silent – adds contrast and drama for example following loss or tragedy. It also may cue the action to take on a slow motion aspect or enable a mimed element to surface.
Creativity & Experimentation
- Avoid stereotyping/doing the obvious – unless there is good reason to do so. So, in the event of the teller describing a significant train journey it is rarely necessary to imitate the clickety-clack sound. Look instead for something that really fits with the narrative and perhaps with the inner dialogue of the Teller or other character in the story.
- Don’t be afraid to introduce different rhythms. For example, if the action involves an argument between partners, it can be interesting to drop into a tango style beat for a while. If the actors pick up on this, it can make their action more angular and sharp. Again, something worth exploring together in rehearsals.
Playing in Groups & Ensembles
- Playing together (a deux) and ensemble musicking: Check your tuning if using tuned instruments. Also, check your volume. Can each/everyone be heard? It helps to take turns to step out in front and hear for yourself how the overall mix might sound. Ask a colleague to play a few notes on your instrument, if possible, to get a sense of this.
- In duo/ensemble playing, with other musicians, where possible, sit where you can see each other. Your eyes (and of course your ears and body) will at times give clues, cues as to whether to join or drop out. Consider playing sparingly when there are multiple musicians (unless emphasis/cacophony or several harmonies together on occasion seem required). Usually less is more!
- Practice closing your eyes for a few beats and listening to what your colleagues have started playing. Do you have something to contribute at this point? Equally if you feel moved to start something – jump in!
- Musical pairs can be an interesting, fun form to play with, and can help give another perspective when your acting line-up is reduced to three on stage. In this case, the third actor can come over to the musician’s area and start a rhythm or song or other vocalised interaction to which the musician joins, engaging with a counter sonic narrative. As with traditional pairs, this actor and musician wrestle with their offerings, building intensity, until a climactic point is reached, whereupon both fall silent.
Final thoughts
Finally, remember there are no intrinsically wrong notes – just different sonic colours and so many ways to utilise your sound palette!
About the author
Jon Blend, MA Psych, Dip Child is British, of Austro-Russian heritage. He is an adult and child psychotherapist, clinical supervisor, Lifemusic practitioner and resident playback musician with Playback South (2001-2019) and London Playback (2020- ongoing). He is Director of Gazebo Training School, Faculty member with Institute for Arts in Therapy and Education (IATE) and Terapia. He teaches arts-based approaches to therapy to therapists and educators and advises the Violet Oaklander Foundation www.vsof.org.
Jon delivers workshops and presentations to conferences and institutes, internationally and across UK. He also speak on adolescence, animal -assisted therapies, interfaith working, and intergenerational dialogue. Musical responding contributes atmosphere, complexity, emotionality and punctuation to the narrative.
Event Reports
First Greek Playback Theatre Festival, Athens, 25 – 28 October 2024
By the Playback Ψ Theatre Company
On 25-28 October 2024 we celebrated the 20th anniversary of our company’s creative activities Playback Ψ (2004 – 2024), by hosting the first Greek Playback Theatre Festival. The Festival took place at the venue of the Association of Dramatic Expression and Therapy Palmos, 3 Kleisthenous Street, Athens, Greece.
The Playback Ψ Theatre company was established in Athens in 2004, by Lambros Yotis, psychiatrist, dramatherapist and stage director, under the umbrella of the Association of Dramatic Expression and Therapy Palmos (www.palmos.info). Since then, it has held more than 800 performances in theatres, festivals, conferences, educational and therapeutic settings, both in Greece and internationally.
During the last ten years, Lambros Yotis and Dimitris Begioglou, senior members of the company, have been accredited as playback leaders and trainers by the Centre of Playback Theatre (New York). In 2019 they founded the Greek School of Playback Theatre, as one of the 16 accredited training centres.
Today, the company consists of 15 members, composed of actors, musicians and designers, most of whom have an additional professional identity as therapists or drama teachers. Besides them, many theatre artists have contributed their knowledge and talent to the company for varying periods of time, adding to the character and expertise this company presents today.
This first Greek Festival of Playback Theatre celebrated our twenty years of existence as a theatre company and united all the companies of this theatre genre in Greece, so as to honour the work we have accomplished altogether, our devotion and faith to the art of togetherness.
The aim of the Festival was to invite and foster communication and creative connection among the entire Greek Playback Theatre community and to serve as a catalyst for a broader introduction of Playback Theatre to the Greek public.
The Festival was held in Greek, with workshops led by invited experts with international activity, such Anastasia Vorobyeva, Eduardo Castro Neves, and Steve Nash, which were held in English.
The Festival started with an announcement of a welcome note sent to us from Jonathan Fox & Jo Salas.
It included workshops with internationally recognized Playback Theatre artists and educators from Greece and abroad, talks, performances, and joint group improvisations (jam sessions) by all the participating Playback Theatre companies.
The following Greek Playback Theatre groups performed
- Playback Theatre Echo
- Playback Ground
- Playback Nuevo + Thea-terapia (a Greek – Slovakian collaboration),
- Playback Playξy
- Playback Pyrinas
- Playback Theatre Thessaloniki
- Playback Ψ
Workshops were run on various themes
- Waves of life and the body in space (E. Castro Neves)
- Picture-Drama (E. Koumbi, Ch. Manzavinos)
- Reflection with Playback Theatre (L. Zografou)
- Listening to the body (P. Theodorou)
- Playback games (Ch. Theocharopoulos, M. Kastrinou)
- Human’s stories, soul hearings (E. Leventi, M. Konstantinidou)
- One to one Playback in a room (G. Louca)
- Music sound and song in Playback Theatre (S. Nash),
- The experience with Solo playback (S. Panteli)
- Art of Movement in Playback Theatre (Α. Vorobyeva)
- The Red thread (A. Chatziargyriou, Ch. Fragiadaki, Κ. Webster)
- Playback and Me (E. Christopoulou, F. Metzger, Y. Sembros)
- Vocal Landscapes (S. Giannatou)
Open discussions took place with speakers who shared their projects and experience in a variety of settings, such as theatre, psychotherapy and education. Coordinators of the open discussions were: L. Yotis, P. Theodorou, D. Begioglou, C. Theocharopoulos, E. Politopoulou, V. Lardi, R. Filindra and Ch. Fragiadaki.
The themes of these discussions were:
- The history of Playback Theatre in Greece
- First Steps and Passages
- Continuing the history
- Playback Theatre as a genre of applied theatre for children, adolescents & adults
- Visual Arts, Music & Lighting in Playback Theatre
- Research in Playback Theatre
- Online Playback Theatre
The Festival ended with an enthusiastic jamming from all the members of the participating playback groups and their musicians, plus the vocals of Savina Giannatou, a Greek singer and vocalist with international reputation.
The whole atmosphere of the four days was buzzing, with creative generosity from all those involved. We hope that this Festival was a start for next future meetings in Greece or abroad.
The members of the 1st Greek Festival of Playback Theatre Festival’s Organising committee:
- Dimitris Begioglou, Christina Fragiadaki, Stelios Giannacos, Margarita Kastrinou, Vera Lardi, Christos Theocharopoulos, Nikos Theocharopoulos, Katerina Webster.
- The Secretary: Maria Margeti
About the author
Lambros Yotis, M.D., Ph.D., is a Psychiatrist (National Kapodistrian University of Athens, Greece) and a Dramatherapist (PGDip, University of Hertfordshire, UK). Since 1990, he has been working in the mental health frame, both in private and in the public sector. As a Psychiatrist, he has worked for the University of Athens, as well as for the Greek Anti-Stigma Programme under the umbrella of the W.H.O. He studied theatre (Drama School of Athens) and has worked both as an actor and a stage director. He is an accredited Playback Theatre leader and trainer (Centre for Playback Theatre, N.Y.) and a founding member of the Association of Dramatic Expression and Therapy Palmos in Athens, where the first professional Playback Theatre company in Greece Playback Psi, was established in 2004 (www.palmos.info). Recently, he edited Belonging in Playback Theatre (2nd edition, 2023).
Two Islands UK and Ireland Gathering 8 – 10 November 2024:
Connecting Up
By Sarah Pritchard
A handful of playbackers from Ireland and the UK bump into each other at the South African International Playback Conference, December 2023. “We must do this more often!” they declare. “Why is it we meet everywhere except the British Isles? Why don’t we gather on our islands?”
A month later four, then six, then seven of us began meeting online to plot, scheme & dream a paper free, meat free, ecofriendly, reasonably priced Gathering, the aim of which was to connect playbackers from Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales, Scotland and England for the first time in eight years.
Meeting every fortnight, we soon fell into roles of comfort or expertise and by July we launched online bookings for a Two Islands Gathering in Buckden Towers Cambridgeshire. Tickets sold out in 72 hours, and we scrambled to find ways to squeeze more people in! Ten months after our first online meeting we greeted 65 playbackers from all over these isles to the dramatic back drop of Buckden Towers: vibes of Catherine of Aragon, the escapee Queen who lived here, an ancient mother tree, dormitories in The Towers, great rooms of historic importance, Gatehouse Apartments, and village pubs & shops on our doorstep.
We connected in the mornings to wellbeing workshops and throughout each day through a range of workshops on conducting, movement, trauma stories, music and solo playback. We connected through evening playback performances by Musical Playback (a brand new ensemble) & Playback Manchester (one of the oldest companies in the UK). We connected through sharing our Irish, Northern Irish, Scottish, Welsh and English perspectives and visions, fresh faces and familiar friendships, and unforgettably new memories. We connected through creating LGBTQI and Global Majority spaces. We connected over food, a quiz, singing, games and laughter. We connected by restating in the plenary, our needs to keep connecting and deepening our playback magic. By the time we got going, it was time to get going.
We warmly invite you to sample a little taste of our work, play, fun and frolics by watching our short video (it’s only nine minutes), created to celebrate our time together:
Two Islands UK and Ireland Playback Gathering: Event Video 9 minutes
So … now we have a team of new ‘superheroes’ who are helping to develop our network, by responding to vital feedback shared at the event about its values and purposes and planning the next Two Islands Gathering for Spring 2026.
If playback be the food of love, play on!
💛🧡❤️💜💙💚
Sarah Pritchard, a member of the organising team.
About the author
Sarah is an eco-psychotherapist, poet, and founder member of Playback Theatre Manchester, established in 1992. She has been out and an lgbtqi activist since 1981.
Reflections on the 5th Asian Playback Theatre Gathering 10 – 12 April 2025: Just As We Are
By YuChen Kao & Michael Cheng
Introduction
The 5th Asian Playback Theatre Gathering, in Tagaytay, the Philippines. A place of breathtaking sunsets and loving hospitality. A space where finally playbackers from across Asia could gather since the last time in Japan eight long years ago. A gathering organized warmly and generously by our Filipino hosts from Dalumbuhay Playback Theatre.
This gathering pulsed with spontaneity and flexibility, infused by the Filipinos’ infectious warmth and playful spirit. Around 70 participants from Australia, China, Hong Kong, Japan, Macau, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, South Korea, Taiwan, Thailand, and the United States came together. Big hugs, heartfelt stories, and laughter flowed freely – among mentors, old friends, new faces, and even a few furry companions (cats and dogs included!).
We left inspired by heartfelt keynote speeches, engaged in curious and probing discussions during presentations, and were moved to both tears and laughter by authentic and powerful performances. A unique feature this time was the thrice-daily coaching sessions, offering deep conversations and exchanges with practitioners and seasoned Playback Theatre artists from different countries. One evening held a poignant tribute to Veronica Needa – a beloved teacher, mentor, and friend to so many in Asia. Another unforgettable moment was the premiere of Living Stories: Roots of Playback Theatre, a long-awaited documentary delayed by the pandemic.
Organizing an international gathering is no easy task – cultural differences, geopolitical tensions, cross-generational issues and the weight of history all colour our stories and encounters. Excitement and unease, quiet struggles and profound moments of connection, all wove through our time together – sometimes rising to the surface only once we stood face-to-face. Thankfully, Playback Theatre drew us together, encouraging us to listen to our inner voices and embrace one another’s differences.
These moments of connection, these shared sparks of understanding, these memories, will nourish and sustain us, until we meet at the next Asian gathering…
Below are further impressions and reflections by YuChen Kao (Taiwan) and Michael Cheng (Singapore). Both are experienced practitioners and leaders and have attended every Asian gathering in the last 20 years. YuChen’s original Chinese text appears alongside its English translation here.
Just as We Are – YuChen Kao (Taiwan)
Keynote Addresses (Jo Salas, Kayo Munakata, and Jonathan Fox, with Dr. Melba summarising) 主題演講 (Jo Salas, Kayo Munakata, and Jonathan Fox, Dr. Melba 總結)
For three days, each morning featured keynote presentations from international teachers. We are deeply grateful for their life stories, which served as powerful examples.
On the first day, Jo Salas began by apologizing for the turmoil in the world, acknowledging the significant role the U.S. has played. She expressed concern and remorse. I think Jo did something very important – even though we know it’s not personally her fault, today’s international turbulence is closely tied to U.S. government actions. As a keynote speaker, she highlighted that stories are not just personal experiences or emotions; they are influenced by complex social and structural forces.
She then used the metaphor of cooking to describe our learning and self-discipline in Playback Theatre. For instance, as the main cook for her family, she asked, “What kind of cooking is appropriate for the family?” But when entertaining guests or cooking for multiple tables, she had to expand her skills and strive for excellence. Similarly, each individual’s and team’s approach to playback differs – their purposes, audiences, and duration of practice vary, leading to different standards and aesthetics.
Some people may be disappointed in Playback Theatre as a result of witnessing under-rehearsed performances, because every story is entrusted to us and is precious and enriches our lives. As practitioners, we must commit to continuous growth – not just for performance or fun, but as artists responsible to the audience for honouring their stories. We must, through sustained practice, enhance our skills and knowledge, so that we can deepen connections and understanding with our participants, and ultimately become a force for social change.
Kayo-sensei shared about the Japanese AZ team’s long-term project addressing school bullying through Playback Theatre. The process involves activities that encourage students to trust the troupe enough to share their experiences of bullying and then propose simple strategies that empower students to act when facing bullying. Their ongoing efforts across Japanese schools include comprehensive planning for communication with schools beforehand and evaluation afterward.
In his keynote on A New Ethics for Playback Theatre, Jonathan reflected on his many “failures“ through the years in Playback Theatre. Some mistakes were subtle, others stemmed from cultural differences, and some from the complexities of human nature and competition. These challenges are tough but important. He said, “Many challenges still have no answers – please discuss them with your peers! Together, let’s find causes and solutions.“
Professor Melba from the Philippines, a respected figure in social reform, especially emphasized in her summary, how Playback Theatre fosters sharing, active listening, and understanding within the chaos of today’s society. It acts as a vital force for personal and collective reconciliation and peace.
這三天上午安排了國際導師的分享，很感謝這些導師的生命故事做了很好的示範。第一天Jo Salas就先跟在場的朋友們道歉，這世界的紛擾，美國扮演重要的腳色，她擔憂也深感歉意。我想Jo做了很重要的事，即便我們都知道這不是她的錯，但的確現今國際社會的震盪，跟美國政府息息相關，作為一個Keynote speaker，能點出故事不只是單單的個人感受與經歷，故事背後有複雜的社會因素與結構影響著。接著她透過廚藝來隱喻我們對一人一故事劇場的學習與自我要求，例如她身為家中的主要料理者，什麼樣的廚藝是適合家人的?但當她要面對客人，甚至多桌的宴客料理，她就得開始學習更多廚藝，精益求精。每個人和團隊玩一人一故事劇場的目的不同、演出對象的不同、學習時間長短不同，也會有不同的標準和審美產生。有些人看過缺乏練習的團隊演出，對Playback很失望;因為每個故事都交付在我們手中時，是很珍貴的，豐富了我們的生命。大家進行一人一故事劇場，有更多的承諾時，希望不只是為了演出或是好玩而已，我們不只是藝術家，更對演出觀眾的故事有責任。我們得透過不斷的學習，提升我們的知識和技能，並能夠與參與者建立連結、理解進而成為改變社會的力量。而Kayo老師則分享了日本AZ團隊，這幾年持續進行的校園霸凌議題，不僅僅是一人一故事劇場，過程中如何透過引導活動，讓學生願意信任劇團，分享校園中霸凌的故事，最後提出簡單的策略，引導學生遇到霸凌事件可以起而行動。這樣持續地在日本各地的校園推動，事前如何跟學校溝通，和事後如何評估，都有完整的規畫。
Photo Credit: Jingsi Huang
Jonathan則分享了他個人這麼多年做一人一故事劇場失敗的經驗，有些是很隱微的錯誤，有些是社會文化的不同，造成的傷害，有些是人性面的競爭議題，這些挑戰，真的很不容易，但很重要，Jonathan說:很多挑戰我至今沒有答案，請跟你的同儕們多聊聊!一起找出原因與解方。
而菲律賓的Melba教授是受人尊敬的社會改革家，也特別說明他這幾年看到一人一故事劇場在這紛亂的社會中帶來分享、聆聽與理解，是個人內在，和社會群體間重要的和解與和平的力量。
Coaching 輔導
Our venue, a serene Christian retreat centre, was bathed in stunning sunrises and sunsets. The lawns and swimming pool provided wonderful spaces for gathering and relaxation. Being embraced by nature every day subtly dissolved interpersonal barriers and opened our hearts.
I felt honored to be part of the coaching team, offering consultation to young practitioners about company life and performance-related questions. Their passion was evident in their questions and expressions – yes, this is why I never tire of Playback Theatre and reminds me I have so much more to learn. The eager curiosity in your eyes has reawakened my original passion and purpose. Through Playback Theatre, human connection, understanding, and love can reach such profound depths.
Photo Credit: Michael Cheng
我們所住的區域是一個漂亮的基督教僻靜地，早晚的晨光與夕陽，都讓人讚嘆。草皮和泳游池，是我們相聚聊聊、放鬆的好處所，每天都被自然擁抱，無形中就化解了人際間的邊角，心特別開闊。這次很榮幸地身為教練群的一員，讓年輕的一人一故事劇場朋友可以諮詢相關的團隊生活和表演的疑惑。看到來自亞洲不同國度的夥伴，熱切地提出在經營團隊，和演出時面臨的困境，眼神中、話語裡充滿著學習的熱誠與對一人一故事劇場的愛。讓我感受到『Yes，這也是我為何覺得一人一故事劇場玩不膩，學不完!因為你們的求知神情，又再次喚醒我的初衷與熱誠』，透過一人一故事劇場，人與人的連結、理解與相愛可以這麼深刻。
Workshops & Paper Presentations 工作坊與論文發表
In the following days, we listened to Kelvin from Hong Kong share how, during the pandemic, his group blended online and in-person Playback Theatre. The motivation stemmed from many members of his group Encounter Playback Theatre emigrating to other countries yet maintaining their emotional bonds. When people were isolated during the pandemic, what role could Playback Theatre play? Using a Taiwanese picture book, The Arrival, he facilitated a process drama to evoke shared emotions before personal sharing using Playback Theatre.
Shouchien Kung from Taiwan shared his method of integrating Tarot cards into playback: tellers shared their feelings, drew cards, and actors wove the essence and meaning of the cards into the performance. As an actor trying this out on stage, it felt like the method gave me divine inspiration to be closer to the deeper emotions of the character. The story and tarot interpretation did not conflict; instead, they offered richer ways for actors to enter and embody the story.
Photo Credit: Michael Cheng
We also heard about applications and research from our Japanese friends in education – both qualitative and quantitative analyses, vital for the discourse and promotion of Playback Theatre. There was also a study from the Philippines (although I missed the first half as I was resting).
In the workshop section, Johnnie and Lucinda from Australia co-led PUNK Playback. The punk spirit focuses on social issues, presenting how personal stories are shaped by social and cultural contexts, and enacted through Playback Theatre forms.
I facilitated a workshop on Dream Playback, which my group, Knowing Playback Theatre, has performed for 17 years. Dreams often consist of fragmented images and non-linear scenes remembered by the tellers. Practicing Dream Playback can help us break away from a way of listening to linear stories and enhance physical expression through the variety of characters and spaces that emerge in dreams. Dreams reveal deep subconscious, strengthening connection and understanding within the team. It’s a theme we love and insist on performing annually. I was delighted to share this approach with friends from across Asia, helping us grow closer in just a few hours.
(I’m unclear about the Filipino-led workshop since I was facilitating my own, but I chatted with Johnnie about PUNK Playback.)
這幾天，我們聽了來自香港的Kelvin分享，如何在疫情期間，做線上和實體結合的一人一故事劇場，起心動念是言遇這幾年來很多團員移民到其他國家，然而彼此的心依舊聯繫著，疫情也讓大家異地的夥伴隔離在自己的家，到底一人一故事劇場可以發揮什麼樣的作用? Kelvin先用一個台灣繪本作家抵岸，做了過程戲劇，讓大家對此議題有共感後，在進行個人故事的分享與Playback演出。
來自台灣的孔胖，則運用的塔羅牌，讓說故事者先分享心情，再抽塔羅牌，演出時，演員要試著把那張塔羅牌的精神或是旨意，在演出時結合。我個人嘗試做舞台上的演員，感覺如有神助，更能貼近主角的深層感受!這樣保持說故事者的故事，塔羅牌則是另一種解讀說故事者的感受，兩個相結合，一點也不違和，更幫助演員有多元的詮釋方法，與切入故事核心的提點。
還有日本朋友在教育上的應用與研究，這些質的與量的分析，在一人一故事劇場的論述與推廣中都非常重要。
(還有菲律賓的研究(這一段我休息去了，只聽到後半段)
Photo credit: YuChen Kao
工作坊的部分則有澳洲朋友Johnnie和 Lucinda一起合帶的PUNK Playback， PUNK精神本來就是關心社會議題，特色在將個人故事受到社會文化中的處境、影響，用一人一故事劇場的形式呈現。而我帶的是夢的一人一故事劇場，我的知了劇團已經演出第十七年的夢的Playback，練習夢境的一人一故事劇場，有時說故事者只記得片段的畫面，或是跳來跳去的場景，可以打破我們線性敘事的聆聽方式，夢中出現的各種角色與空間也開發我們的肢體表現；加上夢通常表現出深層的潛意識，讓我們團員之間更加認識彼此，連結更深。這是我們團隊很喜歡也堅持每年必演的主題。很開心在這次的聚會分享給亞洲的朋友，讓我們在短短的小時更靠近彼此。
(菲律賓朋友的帶領我不太清楚(因為我同時在帶夢，PUNK是因為有和Johnny聊)
Tribute to Veronica & Premiere of Documentary 向Veronica的致敬與紀錄片首映
On April 12, during the gathering, we commemorated the second anniversary of Veronica’s passing. Professor Melba had previously interviewed Veronica, and the organizers edited and shared clips of this interview. Veronica had tirelessly nurtured Playback Theatre across Asia, frequently traveling between Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore, and China. We were all deeply drawn to her passion and professionalism. Seeing her lively, serious, and playful expressions in the video as she talked about the development of Playback Theatre across Asian countries brought waves of nostalgia.
We also watched a documentary about the early days of the development of Playback Theatre, featuring young Jo and Jonathan, as well as other key international teachers and friends. It included many precious old photographs. The documentary, made through extensive interviews and travels, was deeply moving. Particularly poignant was Jonathan’s journey to Nepal to trace the original inspirations that led him to found Playback Theatre – an inspiring pilgrimage for all generations to witness.
這次我們聚會的4/12日是Veronica逝世兩周年，菲律賓的Melba女士在她生前時訪問過Veronica，主辦單位特別剪輯分享給大家。Veronica很努力地耕耘亞洲的一人一故事劇場，經常往返香港、台灣、新加坡和中國，我們都深深受她的熱情與專業給吸引著!看到影片中的她，分享著她對亞洲各國一人一故事劇場的由來和了解，那古靈精怪、時而認真、時而活潑的表達方式，令人無限懷念啊!
這次也分享了Jonathan創立一人一故事劇場的紀錄片，紀錄片中有年輕時候的Jo和Jonathan，和幾位重要的國際導師、友人，很多珍貴的照片，真的很不容易地，訪談了好多人，走訪很多國家。看到Jonathan到尼泊爾找尋最初影響他創立Playback劇場的源頭，很讓人感動，追根之旅，讓後生晚輩一起透過影像經歷這個旅程，別具意義。
The End of the Feast 宴席終散
As the final day approached, we knew every feast must come to an end. We asked the three mentors some final questions. Humbly, they admitted, the world is increasingly divided, and they too don’t always know how to respond – but they keep learning, listening, persevering, and seeking solutions together.
At night, we lit a bonfire. We sang, danced, and shared stories. Through stories, we found chances for reconciliation between generations, for understanding differences, and for expanding our life horizons.
時間來到最後一天，總有不散的宴席，我們詢問三位導師一些問題，老師們謙卑地回答著，這世界正分裂著，我們也不知道要如何去面對，但我們都在努力地學習、聆聽、不放棄、一起找方法努力；夜晚升起了營火，我們歌唱、我們跳舞、我們分享故事，從分享故事中，我們才有機會世代和解、才有機會理解彼此的差異，才有機會拓展生命的視野，生生不息；如同Jo Salas說的，不只是我們，也希望你們藉由故事，繼續連結、理解和改變!
As Jo Salas said, “Not just us—may you, too, continue connecting, understanding, and changing the world through stories!“
Roots & Wings Michael Cheng (Singapore)
There are moments in life that feel like homecomings. This gathering was one of them.
After years apart – years of upheaval, disconnection, and navigating our own corners of the world – we came back. Back to playback. Back to each other. Back to what matters. And not just to perform or present, but to reconnect with the heart of why we do this work. As a fellow participant put it, this gathering was an affirmation of what we are doing as playbackers. It felt like a return to our roots so that we may spread our wings and fly high.
Nourishing our Roots
A thread running through the gathering – sometimes quietly, sometimes unmistakably – was this: we only fly when we’re deeply rooted. And in playback, those roots run deep – our lineage, our teachers, our heritage, our values.
& Jonathan Fox. Photo credit: Michael Cheng
For the first time, Jo Salas and Jonathan Fox joined an Asian gathering. What a journey it must have been – not only the distance from New York to Manila, but across decades of playback’s history. As one colleague from China said to me, “I’ve spoken their names so many times, but this is the first time I can meet them face to face!” Their presence, their stories, and their spirit inspired us and affirmed our work.
The world premiere of the documentary Living Stories: Roots of Playback Theatre gave us an intriguing glimpse into the early days of Playback. To see the old footage and photos was like peering through a window into a long-gone world. We felt the spirit and inspiration of those times, the passion and perseverance of the pioneers, and saw the many seeds that have since taken root around the world. How incredible it is that Playback Theatre is now fifty years old!
On an evening of loving tribute to Veronica, we watched and heard her account of how she came to playback, and how hard she worked to bring playback to some many of us in Asia. I kept seeing her shadow around the retreat centre – we had been here together ten years ago, bringing training to the region. Many participants shared our memories throughout the gathering. For those who never met her, the video of her interview gave a sense of her infectious energy and spirit. It was a fitting coincidence that her anniversary fell on the last day of the gathering.
Photo Credit: Michael Cheng
In workshops and conversations, I heard it again and again – this pull toward our roots. Not in a nostalgic or stuck way, but as a grounding. A sense that in order to grow, we have to know where we come from. In order to innovate, we have to listen to what’s already in the soil. There was a kind of honesty in the air. A collective sigh of “yes, this is who we are.” No frills, no performance for the outside world. Just us. Watering our roots so they grow deep and strong, and guide how we are as practitioners and how we relate to one another as a playback community.
The Power of “I’m sorry.”
One of the quiet, powerful undercurrents of the gathering was the presence of apology.
Not the formal, scripted kind. But the real ones. The vulnerable ones. The kind that takes courage to say and even more to receive. In many moments, a simple “I’m sorry” was shared. I remember Jo Salas’ apology for what the United States is doing to the world. I remember apologies exchanged between two people from countries with tension between them.
I remember one particular story in the Singapore gathering in 2005. A Filipino shared about his trip to Japan for an international conference. Then the teller told us about his Filipino grandfather’s strong words, “Why would you want to travel to that country, with all those awful people? Why would you want to spend your time and money in a country with the Japanese?”
On stage, a mixed group of playbackers from Hong Kong, Singapore and China played back this story. All of these countries had unspeakable horrors inflicted upon them by the Japanese. And they played back the teller’s encounters with acts of kindness from the Japanese he met in Japan. A Japanese participant then shared a feeling of preparing for people to hate them when they came to the conference. Then Kayo-san the conductor stood to apologise for the things the Japanese had done in the past.
This story surfaced again at this gathering. The Filipino teller spoke again of what happened, and Playback AZ from Japan played it back, bringing to life the kind people the teller had met. Another Japanese had also shared her side of the story in a different performance. Remarkably, a day before the gathering was the Day of Valor, a holiday in the Philippines to commemorate the fall of Bataan to the Japanese. History was all around us and its lessons spoke to us across time and space.
Apologies at this gathering landed not as weakness, but as strength. A doorway. An invitation to move from tension into trust, from misunderstanding into meaning. In playback, we often talk about witnessing. But part of witnessing includes owning. Owning the ways we may have hurt, excluded, misjudged, or overlooked – even unintentionally. And when that happens in the community, something softens. Something opens.
A sincere apology isn’t about shame – it’s about connection. It tells the other person: “I see what I didn’t see before. I care enough to come back to you.” This kind of practice doesn’t just heal a moment – it mends the fabric of the community. It helps us understand one another more deeply, especially across cultures, power dynamics, and unspoken histories.
In that space of apology, we also found forgiveness – not as obligation, but as gift. A choice. And with that, a deeper kind of understanding grew. The kind that doesn’t erase the past, but lets us move forward with more clarity, more tenderness. Playback has always been about stories. But maybe it’s also about repair. About staying in the room. About building a kind of practice that doesn’t just reflect life, but transforms how we live it – together.
A Practice That Requires Practice
In her keynote, Jo invited us to reflect on the kind of practice required for different playback purposes and contexts. Her analogy – cooking for family, for friends, or in a restaurant—was simple and resonant. It reminded me of playback’s Code of Ethics, which asks us to ensure we have “sufficient training and supervision” for the work we take on, and to teach “at the level of our competence.”
Jonathan echoed this in his keynote on ethics. He reminded us that “Playback Theatre can heal, but it can also cause harm.” That’s why sustained training and reflection are vital. For me, practice is not only about sharpening skills and techniques – it’s also about examining the principles, values, and heritage we carry as practitioners. It’s not just about doing Playback Theatre; it’s about how the ethics and spirit of playback shape how we live.
Playback is profoundly contextual. What’s ethical in one situation might not be clearly so in another. That’s why we need space for ongoing dialogue – especially in moments of uncertainty or difficulty. Reflection and conversation may allow us to navigate complexity with care, humility, and responsiveness.
Another reflection I hold: a strong, connected community is essential to good practice. When we are part of a healthy, empowered playback community, we have people who hold us accountable, who walk alongside us, and who offer wisdom, challenge, and encouragement. This kind of community doesn’t just support individual growth – it sustains the integrity of the practice itself.
How can we build such a community? I’m still figuring this out. From one group in Singapore to now five, I can say we’re still a young and growing community. We’re learning – still learning – how to talk to one another with honesty and care, how to offer support that doesn’t slip into competition, and how to celebrate each other’s strengths while lifting one another up. It’s a work in progress. But perhaps that’s also the spirit of playback: showing up, again and again, to listen, to reflect, and to practice – together.
Photo Credit: Michael Cheng
What and where next?
Impressions. Memories. Thoughts. Emotions. A time so full, it was hard to choose what to put into words. Since the first gathering in Singapore twenty years ago, our Asian community has grown and developed. Since the last one in Japan eight years ago, how the world has changed.
For a region almost 5 billion in population, this was a small gathering of around 70 people. Many others could not attend. Our friends from India, Pakistan, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Vietnam, were absent, as were many colleagues from countries already represented. We must continue finding ways to connect, so that our stories and voices are shared. We can continue to build better practice through our deep conversations and mutual exchange. We can understand one another and be together in a way that is different to what the world is telling us.
Travelling to a gathering is a privilege, and that means we also hold responsibility to improve access for our colleagues in the region. How can we do so? Thinking ahead, political and visa challenges may limit future travel. Are there creative and innovative ways around these issues? Can we find a venue in Asia that supports easier access? Johnnie from Australia raised the possibility of an online component for future gatherings. Yet, there is such a disparity in economic and social conditions that even a partial online component might be challenging for some. For sure, it is worth exploring, and maybe we need to think out of the box to decide the next location and format.
Gatherings nourish us. They remind us of our roots and help us grow stronger. They guide how we practice – and how we relate to one another as a playback community.
This gathering was, more than anything, an affirmation of what we are doing as playbackers.
About the authors
YuChen Kao
YuChen Kao graduated from the School of Playback Theatre in 2006 and has since trained over twelve Playback Theatre troupes across Taiwan, focusing on community building and social issues. She founded Knowing Theatre in 2007, which has explored dreams and human rights topics since 2010. In 2011, she became the founding Chair of the Taiwan Playback Theatre Association and served for two terms. From 2016 to 2019, she collaborated with domestic violence prevention organizations, research institutes, and hospitals. YuChen also led climate change-themed workshops with playback graduates across Taiwan. Internationally, she has taught advanced playback in China, Singapore, the Philippines, and Hong Kong. A lifelong learner, she studies psychodrama, mindfulness, and nonviolent communication, and works with communities affected by mental illness, cancer, and visual impairment.
Michael Cheng
Michael is an applied drama practitioner and educator based in Singapore. He has facilitated performances and training across diverse settings including schools, social service agencies, and community organisations, working with youth, seniors, people with disabilities, and marginalised communities. An accredited trainer (APTT), Michael teaches internationally at all levels and is a faculty member of the Centre for Playback Theatre (CPT) Leadership course. He previously served as Artistic Director of Tapestry Playback Theatre for 14 years and was Chair of the CPT Board. Michael holds a master’s in Arts Pedagogy and Practice from Goldsmiths, University of London, supported by the National Arts Council (Singapore)’s Arts Scholarship.
Reflections on the First HEED Event, Stara Susica, Croatia, 2 – 8 June 2025
By Jacqueline Moreira da Silva, Ava Darvishi, Valentine Rinner, Shadi Alaiek, Joke Rood
HEED is a new global education program that will train and support Playback Theatre practitioners to develop projects for social and environmental justice in their own communities. The reflections below are from members of the first cohort who met for an intensive inaugural week of personal learning, project development, networking, play and creativity organised and facilitated by the HEED team. HEED stands for Healing, Equity, Empowerment and Diversity, and was founded by Hane Al Rustm, Emily Conolan, Elsa Maurício Childs, and Devrim Nicolò Turletti. Sadly, despite the determination of the individuals involved and the dedicated efforts of the organisers, nine participants (from India, Egypt, Iraq, Cuba, Palestine, Tanzania, Nigeria, and Lebanon) could not take up their places at this event because of structural inequity in the guise of visa problems. You can read more about HEED here.
From Jacque
HEED, a love feast.
As a new member in the playback world (I have been practicing for only about four years and had mostly experienced playback within my little bubble in Cork city), I had no idea of what to expect from the six days residency in Croatia. I knew the theme was inequality and social (in)justice, I had received some emails and information about the program, I saw some faces in an online meeting, but still, the idea of what was going to happen was abstract and distant.
To start, it was impactful that the program initiated with a doubling ritual to honour the existence of the people that couldn’t be there due the very social forces we are fighting against, white supremacy, discrimination, racism, that in this case, had the shape of visa denials.
It was also thought provoking the amount of interesting information shared:
Restorative Justice, Internal Family Systems therapeutic approach, Panoptic prison structures and its link to Kashmir surveillance system, symbolic capital, Theatre of the Oppressed, Sociedad del Cuidado. Some content involving resilience, mutual care, community building, the sharing of Chai, Seeing the body as a living archive, deep listening, were less Western- academic centred, and for me it was very special, since we are talking about decolonizing our practices.
In addition to that, what stands out from my time during the HEED program was love.
The kind of love that Bell Hooks talks about: Love as an action, love as choice, love as a counter-narrative to the chaos we are leaving in, love as respect and commitment. There were exercises in which you had to listen and not think about what to answer; activities in which we would ask for what we needed, and our peers would give it to us; activities that encouraged physical contact and encouraged that we supported each other.
There were plenty of hugs, laughs and tears, and as in any group dynamics, there was conflict, but above all, there was so much love. Linking that to my personal experience as a playbacker, what I hope to bring to my future practice and to the mentorship program, is to develop a praxis of gathering, sharing and love. That’s how I want to build community.
Most people there knew each other from previous playback trainings, but still, I was very welcomed and easily integrated. As for a first experience, I can say I started really well, HEED set the bar high for my expectations for the next playback encounters. I can’t wait to meet all these loving people again.
From Ava
I’ve been constantly thinking about what my reflection is, how to capture all the feelings and thoughts from the week.
I will start with this; Theatre has been my belief, my heart, my home since I was 16. Every day, I used to go to the studio to practice with different group. Every day, I would leave behind all my thoughts, doubts, and problems, whatever belonged to my personal life at the door of the studio. When I opened that door, I was there to create, to build, to become the character I needed to be. The studio is sacred to me. It is where I lost myself to find myself. In Playback Theatre, I don’t leave everything behind the door; I enter with it, and it took me a long time to see myself in this new position: sharing constantly … and listening constantly …
This led me to discover a new capacity within myself. I don’t lose myself; instead, I rely on myself to uncover myself and others.
We share, and we come back to each other.
We listen, and we come back to each other.
Always…
There is always a circle we return to.
There is always a melody, or a look … a breath … a hand … that brings us back together.
Like a miracle …For me, this is the magic of playback; The power to learn how to move on without ending up blocked. Otherwise, we wouldn’t survive / playback wouldn’t survive.
I still feel a sense of distance from Playback Theatre, but during this 6-day workshop, I discovered a personal connection through my acting with Playback Theatre. It felt like coming home after a long time, tasting something familiar and sweet again. I’m not sure if that counts as an achievement for the workshop or just for myself, but I felt something shift. I began connecting with the stories and with my own presence on stage. I stopped focusing on the forms and structure (thanks to working alongside people with different methods and visions). Instead, I searched for a personal bridge to this kind of theatre, and I believe it has finally begun to take shape.
That shift could not have happened without being around each and every participant and leader in this workshop. Feeling lost in languages, geographies, and unfamiliar rhythms … Once again, I got lost … and then found myself. What I witnessed over the six days in this workshop was another dimension of humanity, capability, and respect. I’ve lived it and have learned how difficult it can be.
I can’t do anything other than stand and honor each and every person in this group. In my heart.
What happens on the playback stage is just one aspect of playback identity. The most important part is the process we go through. Every second is like a personal, individual journey to train your humanity, and the reward is to find yourself among people who are doing the same. So today we can hold each other’s hands. It is the only way we can truly hold stories and play them back. It is the only way we can be storykeepers.
And this circle goes on … and on … through oceans … from east to west, from north to south …
What a graceful, unbroken circle that holds stories, hearts, hands, and breaths …
From Valentine
Things that made me grow:
My phone waiting at home unattended for 11 days
Noticing my hands searching for it when uncomfortable feelings arise
Dealing with said uncomfortable feelings and acting subsequently
My back tickled with encouragement to dare some conducting
Receiving feedback
Initiating intimate moments of feedback
Witnessing intimate moments of feedback
Learning about the cup meant to serve water to someone when they’re going through something difficult
Things that brought me some healing:
Speaking up
Shutting up
Feeling I was held and could venture beyond my usual limitations
Many other people doing that
Mutual cherishments
Dancing bodies
Soup
Delightful things:
My hand being grabbed with an urge to go play together
What is said with eye contact
A dashing face paint and another delicate one
Waiting for the feedback form
Tea
The smile I have on my face
From Shadi
The stars shined in Stara Susica
The voices of fathers and mothers whispered
They said: Speak
My grandmother left that day
I was in Stara Susica, but her tears came over
Our eyes shined with them as so the stars
We tied homes we couldn’t carry with scarves
We dreamt
Danced
Cried
Laughed
Hugged
Broke
And we melted together in earth full of self-justice
From Joke
Hane, Emily, Elsa, and Devrim had the courage to organize a whole week about Playback Theatre and social justice.
27 participants from 21 countries. United in the wish to do good! Some of the ingredients of ‘the soup’ we ate together:
What is social justice? Restorative justice? What can we contribute? Tips and tricks, non-possible neutrality, trauma healing, dilemmas, hope and despair, anger and love, silly games and serious talks.
Questions you might have …for us. Plus my personal answers:
Are you holy? No.
Are you naive? Sometimes.
Are you good? We try!
Are you capable? We work on it.
Are you aware? We dare to be (un)aware.
Are you creative? Of course,
Are you therapeutic? If we wish…
Are you excellent actors and conductors? Mwwah. Work to do on that …
Are you solid? As a rock.
Are you activists? Some more than others.
Are you humorous? We can be!
Are you vulnerable? Afraid so….
Are you energetic? Sure.
Are you wiser than before? Definitely.
Are you fulfilled with hope? Yes!
Are you sure playback can save the world? No, but it can make a difference …
So … Next year they’ll organize it again after some evaluative sessions amongst each other, us as participants and their board of advisors.
For now: Hats off to HEED!
About the authors
Jacqueline Moreira da Silva (Jacque) is a Brazilian multidisciplinary artist and writer based in Ireland, where she’s been doing playback for four years with a group called Speak out! Theatre for Transformation. Her project aims to spread playback through migrant communities in Cork.
Ava Darvishi is a multidisciplinary artist and theatre maker from Iran, currently based in Gent. A member of Sada Ghent Playback Theatre since 2022. Her work blends storytelling, performance, and digital media to explore memory, migration, and identity across international and community stages.
Valentine Rinner does playback with French environmental activists. She’s also setting up a new project with a group of women from an underserved neighbourhood in her local town.
Shadi Alaiek has been doing playback for seven years, starting in Lebanon and now in Belgium. His project is about doing playback for people who have difficult access to playback because of social patriarchal system.
Joke Rood has more than 30 years’ experience as a playbacker in The Netherlands and other countries. Her project is about Playback Theater as a help for the victims of the flood in the region of Valencia, Spain (DANA, 29/10/2024).
Signpost
Books, articles, and other published material about Playback Theatre
In this section of the IPTN Journal, we share information about new books, and links to online resources such as articles, news reports, and websites about playback that we have become aware of over the past year or so. We realise that there is much more published material out there, so if you know about any relevant print publications or web based material – in any language – please let us know!
All the links below were active at the time of publication, but hyperlinks can sometimes become out of date. Also bear in mind that whilst some of the articles (and one or two of the books) are openly accessible, full access to others can require payment.
editors@playbacktheatrenetwork.org
Books (and chapters in books) about Playback Theatre
Teatro Playback Psicoterapêutico : Manual de Implementação, Margarida Pedroso de Lima, António-José Gonzalez, Luís Franco Preto, ISPA, 2023This manual (in Portuguese) is based on the seminal work: An Introduction to Psychotherapeutic Playback Theatre (Kowalsky et al., 2022). It aims to be a guide and an operationalisation of the main techniques, phases and procedures of PPT, to be used flexibly according to needs and context.
Part 11, Chapter 5: Inspiring Playful Interventions: Facilitating Gender Awareness with First Drop Theatre, Applied Theatre in Indian Workplaces, Radhika Jain; and Part v, Chapter 13: Queering Playback Theatre, Alejandro Bastien-Olvera; in Applied Theatre and Gender Justice: Imagination, Play, Movement (Applied Theatre in Context), by Lisa S. Brenner (Editor), Evelyn Diaz Cruz (Editor), Routledge, December 2024
Chapter 7: Changing the Theatrical Model: Covid-19, The First Drop Change Foundation and Playback Theatre, in South Asian Disability and Deaf Theatres, K Kochhar-Lindgren, Routledge, January 2025
Playback divadlo (Playback Theatre) by Petr Kosek (pages 120 – 126) in Úvod do teorie dramaterapie (Introduction to drama therapy theory), Petr Kosek, Jakub Vávra, Lenka Veitová, Martin Dominik Polínek, Lenka Polánková, Faculty of Education, Palacky University (Czech Republic) February 2025
(Available as a free PDF download)
Conducting Playback Theatre: skills for a courageous craft, through the lens of one company’s perspective, Anne and Christopher Ellinger, Independently Published, February 2025
Playback Theatre for Social Impact: stories and practice tips from 15 contributors and other titles are also available from Playback Theatre Resources
Playback Theatre articles in other Journals
Special feature:
“After the Tempest”: Assessing audience response through Playback Theatre, Lambros Yotis, Theodora Skali, Phaedra Anastasiou-Veneti, Anastasia Grysbolaki, Myrto Karambela, Nikolaos Stamatiadis, The Arts in Psychotherapy, April 2025
The aim of this qualitative study was to explore the impact of a classical play on its audience, as revealed through Playback Theatre. By engaging with the play’s existential themes of trust, alliance, betrayal, and revenge, and focusing on the audience’s response, the study sought to explore how empathy, social inclusion, and empowerment were reflected in the theatrical experience. The study’s key components included:
- The performance of a theatrical text
- Public interaction, including discussions of the play and the sharing of personal stories
- The improvisation of these stories through Playback Theatre
Data collection employed two assessment instruments: Narrative Reticulation and Thematic Analysis. The findings of this research highlighted the role of Playback Theatre in broadening the audience’s perspectives. Through the power of theatrical metamorphosis, the audience was able to make connections between real events and imaginary ones. Just as Prospero’s Island was both a natural and an imagined place, participating in the performance provided space for symbolic understanding, self-awareness, and self-cohesion.
We hope that this research project serves as an inspiration for future endeavors in exploring the intersection of scripted theatre and Playback Theatre, as well as the impact of playback performances on audience sensitization.
Other articles
‘Honouring the storyteller’: the potential of Playback Theatre in health policy and systems research, Meena Putturaj, Radhika Jain. Health Policy and Planning, June 2025
Drama as a Strategy for the Social Development of Students with Special Needs in Special Education Centre, Mbiabong Etoi, Uyo. Akwa Ibom State, Io Inyang, Ui Sunday Journal of Development Communication and Applied Theatre, Vol 2 no 4, May 2025
The entombed lives – the experience of sibling abortion under China’s One-Child Policy. Liu, Y. Subjectivity 32, 1–16 February 2025 (In which the author describes their experience of being a teller at a Playback Theatre performance).
Amateur actor training in Israeli community-based theatre, N Shem-Tov, Theatre, Dance and Performance Training, Taylor & Francis, February 2025
Beyond the Entertainment Purposes of Theatre: Playback Theatre and Its Implications in a Social Context, Milly Zhang, Scholarly Review Journal, Vol Fall 24, Issue 10, September 2024
Psychotherapeutic Playback Theatre, Well-Being, and Psychological Distress: An Impact Study, by António-José Gonzalez, Margarida Pedroso de Lima, Luís Preto, and Paulo Martins, International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, September 2024
‘I see them speak, I can hear their movements’: Playfulness and personal growth in playback theatre groups for older women, Chaya Wolosow, Shoshi Keisar and Dovrat Hare, Dramatherapy, Volume 45, Issue 1, Apr 2024
An Analysis of the Therapeutic Effect of Playback Theater, Yuanzhi Lyu, Communications in Humanities Research, Vol 5, September 2023
Other sources of writing (and talking) about Playback Theatre:
Playback Theatre Reflects (Jo Salas)
A regularly updated independent website for writing about playback. Here are links to the two most recent articles:
Enacted Ethnography: Stories, Affect, and Activism by Norbert Ross, April 2025
Playback Theatre Talks (Noa Leibu)
A podcast for playbackers, playback fans, arts therapists and performers.
This article is on Noa’s website. It focuses on empowering the teller in Playback Theatre, emphasizing the importance of authenticity and integrity in playback enactments and addressing the tendency to impose happy endings on difficult stories. It introduces a framework of four key principles—empathy, strengths, the social dimension, and the universal element—to help practitioners support tellers while honoring their narratives. These tools offer practical guidance for creating meaningful and empowering enactments.
Centre for Playback Theatre official YouTube Channel
Here you can find recordings of the interviews with Playback Theatre pioneers, recorded as part of the 50th Birthday celebrations, and more.
Brandeis University Massachusetts, USA, Peacebuilding and the Arts
Artist spotlight: Lena Kalashnykova, in conversation with Toni Shapiro-Phim
Conference presentation about Playback Theatre
51st Symposium de la Sociedad Española de Psicoterapia y Técnicas de Grupo, SEPTG – Educación y Salud Mental en una Comunidad Multicultural, Girona, España, 23-25 Mayo 2024
Playback Theater and Sociopsychodrama: About Flow, Presence and Process.
Authors: Ângela Lacerda-Nobre, Amandine Gameiro, Rogério Duarte, and Miguel Cunha-Lima.
This presentation identifies relevant philosophical influences, the impact they have on Playback Theatre and of Psychodrama, and the applied revolution they enable at the level of social groups and service models. Phenomenology addresses the experience of existence from the perspective of its immediateness, i.e., the process of apprehending existential experience, so that the body is central. Playback Theatre and of Psychodrama are heirs of this legacy and the focus on the body enables the development of these two strands of knowledge. Playback Theatre creates a new grammar that can compact the process of group level interaction, by telling stories and biographical accounts and enacting them. And Psychodrama shares the central role of the focus on the body and addresses the inner and mind related universe of meaning, applied to psychotherapy, to community work, to education and to organisations.
The flow, presence and process that are identarian characteristics of Playback Theatre and of Psychodrama, that is, their capacity to capture, hold and offer a new awareness in relation to existence itself, its immediateness and opaqueness, is powerful. And this power is best exposed within social group and service delivery contexts. The term Sociopsychodrama indicates the prior social dimension that is already and unavoidably present.
(The presentation is in Portuguese)