35º 17 South
 created by Karla Conway.  Canberra Youth Theatre at the National 
Gallery of Australia Sculpture Garden, Saturday April 13 to Saturday 
April 20, 2013.
Commentary by Frank McKone
Drama
 games as I used to know them are being taken to a new space by this CYT
 experiment.  From the drama workshop studio to an outdoor venue, like 
the Sculpture Garden at the NGA, is one thing.  Setting up a kind of 
treasure hunt, with clues to be discovered and directions to be 
understood and followed, is another.  But to have all this set in the 
context of a semi-scripted scenario which can only be understood via an 
up-to-date tablet device is one step further than I had previously 
imagined.
Computer, keyboard and mouse I can cope with,
 but a blank screen on a tablet is pure mystery to me.  Fortunately a 
one-time student from my days at Hawker College spontaneously appeared 
to save my reputation as a drama expert.  Catherine Prosser is now CEO 
and Co-Founder of stagebitz.com, (http://stagebitz.com/) 
 providing software which can make running all the technical side of 
theatre a whizz.  She had no trouble tapping the right bits on the 
tablet provided by CYT’s front of house coordinator Jim Adamik, and off 
we went to find the first of those other little mysteries (at least to 
me) – the black and white squares which look like miniature maps of 
mazes, stuck on the wall near the Diamond sculpture (Neil Dawson, 
Aotearoa New Zealand born 1948: Diamonds 2002).  The tablet read the 
coded maze, only to tell us that we couldn’t go further until we had 
correctly counted the number of bolts which hold the sculpture together.
After
 four goes we got it right (37 in case you’d like to know), typed it in 
and then began the game for real – well, sort of real, except that at 
that stage we only knew that we had to find clean water.  Why?  Because 
the only safe place to be was in the Skyspace (James Turrell: 'Within 
without' 2010) on the other side of the Gallery.  We knew this because 
we had been there with others who were desperate to get in because they 
were starving and had travelled so far and for so long to find a safe 
haven.  We were now in their situation, but we didn’t know why.  But we 
had not been allowed in until we could find resources like food and 
water to bring with us.  We couldn’t eat the tablets, but we needed them
 to find what we needed for entry to the only place of safety.
Catherine
 and I collected some useful resources like toilet paper and chocolate, 
and discovered with help from CYT writer Morgan Little that there were 
not only actors as desperate refugees, but others such as a trader who 
might exchange our chocolate for a weapon which we would need to help 
defend the community.  Not all the game concentrated on the immediate 
objective of survival: there are some codes which are games in 
themselves, like one which showed insects flying around in the Sculpture
 Garden which needed to be sprayed to prevent people being bitten by 
them.
After an hour or more, we had got nowhere near 
completing the game – we hadn’t even found the clean water – but as 
responsible adults we had to leave.  The younger members of Youth 
Theatre were by this time absolutely engrossed in the activity: if they 
didn’t complete the game on Saturday, they could continue each day next 
week!  This is one very big school holiday activity.
But
 is it as ground-breaking an experiment as it seems?  Is it a worthwhile
 way of teaching drama?  Is it suitably educational more broadly?
I
 think the answer to the last question depends on the content of the 
game.The story assumes a “Lucas Heights incident” in 2032 which means 
the east coast has become unliveable.  The refugees are escaping to 
Canberra as the only safe haven.  The refugee theme is, of course, 
entirely relevant in considering the position of those who recently 
arrived at Geraldton, after some 44 days in a small boat, from Sri 
Lanka.
However, there is a further assumption that in 
2032, those managing the place of safety, the actors refusing entry to 
the refugees at the beginning of the game, would be openly aggressive 
with defensive weapons, and would arbitrarily lay out their demands to 
be satisfied by starving refugees.  Of course, there is a parallel with 
the way refugees are being treated by officialdom. 
But
 what I wanted to know was, where in the game will the 
audience/participants have an opportunity to be debriefed and to reflect
 on the storyline, its implications and truthfulness.  This game, by 
having an “audience” attending, is different from a large group 
improvisation workshop where everyone participating takes part in the 
devising, the role-playing, and the reflective debriefing.  In this 
case, only the CYT actors and staff are in the know.  Of course, it is 
true that when an audience leaves a standard theatre production, they 
are not debriefed but have to sort out what they think about what they 
have seen for themselves.  This game, though, is more like some of the 
audience participation experiments of the late 1960s / early 1970s such 
as New York’s Open Theatre (Robert Pasolli: A Book on the Open Theatre. 
 Discus Books, 1970) where the actors imposed themselves on the audience
 members in an undifferentiated space.  These experiments lasted for 
only a few years, because audiences preferred enough degree of 
separation from the action to feel they were safe.
Because 35º 17 South
 is a pre-programmed game, there is a degree of safety for participants,
 since they have to follow the rules to complete the task.  Usually, of 
course, electronic games are entirely on screen, while this one involves
 interaction with real actors in a large relatively unconfined space 
where immediate supervision by CYT staff is problematic.  Though things 
like the weapons are no more than images on the tablet screen, what if a
 non-prepared participant (as opposed to the partially scripted and 
rehearsed actors) – a member of the public – were to take on the role of
 a desperate refugee to the point of a physical argument, say, with the 
trader of weapons who refused to accept chocolate in payment?  What 
would be the learning, on either side, from this experience?  And what 
are the safeguards?
At this stage I’m willing to keep 
an open mind until the conclusion of the game, next Saturday.   But I 
would be interested to know how the follow-up, what used to be called 
the backstage post-mortem, will be done – not only for the young adults 
and late teenagers in the acting roles, and of course for the CYT staff 
and the people from the Academy of Interactive Entertainment who wrote 
the computer code, but also for all those people, and perhaps their 
parents, who were audience/participants.
Since Karla 
Conway, the CYT Artistic Director, has invited us to “experiment 
alongside us and embrace the possibilities that technology can play in 
the evolution of our artform”, I think it should be encumbent on CYT to 
see the “experiment” as the lab research, requiring a careful analysis 
of the results and a public report of the findings.
© Frank McKone, Canberra

 
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