Why do we need theater in prison? Reflections on my meeting with the Jubilo Foundation

Project Unlocking[1] is aptly named by Jubilo Foundation and in this brief reflection, I will try to explain why. I will show examples of how Jubilo’s methodological approach, in fact, unlocks the open-ended self-development of the prisoners. I will also ponder on the transformative power of the theatrical process for both audience/participants and the prisoners. Lastly, I will critically reflect on the re-configuration of thoughts surrounding the prison as both an idea and an institution.

Jubilo’s methodology is radical in a sense that it invites liberating, dignifying interactions and activities of human contact on the site which very purpose is to restrict freedom, control interactions, and manage the risks inscribed in human contact. Indeed, the very ‘principles of prison security, good order and control’ [2] are governed by rules, daily routines, and a presence of staff instructed to ‘use force to control prisoners and prevent or manage incidents’ [3]. In contrast, theatre space and practice, generally, invites individual initiative, spontaneity, and freedom of expression. Placed on the borders of these two immiscible worlds [4] of theatre and prison, Jubilo, as a company working in prison, has developed a unique approach centred around the rigour of actor training and collaboration.

My account of Jubilo’s methodology is multifaceted. First, it comes from within, a perspective of a participant engaged in Jubilo’s training at Zakład Karny No 1 in Wrocław [5]. Second, it is my perspective as a researcher interested in the ethical question of human interaction and contact as facilitated by theatre and performance practices. Lastly, a point of view from a theatre practitioner with a background in actor training and collaborative theatre-making. The ensuing observations are a result of the confluence of these perspectives.

As a participant, I noticed the importance of actor training present in Jubilo’s approach. The structure of the sessions resembles what one would expect from a drama school acting class. The theatre space, where the I am Community workshop took place in October 2019, is a clearly demarcated studio space. Certainly, it resonates with anyone who was involved in, in one way or another, with actor training and theatre. Except for the floor and the windows, the former being bare concrete, rather than a typical, glossy dance flooring used in drama schools, and the latter restricted by the bars, a constant reminder of the layering of the two worlds: theatre and prison (Figure 1). Nevertheless, the atmosphere of acceptance and ensemble is palpable from the outset as we are greeted and introduced at the beginning of the session. Soon, the physical warm-up begins and the guest-participant bodies intermingle with convicted bodies in a conscientiously designed structure of a workshop session. Name games and icebreakers facilitate the acquaintance, centering of an individual’s breath expands to an ensemble feeling and breathing as one organism (Figure 2).

Moving around, sharing, and filling the space with our co-presence is enabled by the strong leadership of Diego Pileggi, Jubilo’s co-founder and artistic director. He guides the group through complex tasks of an individual as well as ensemble work, blurring the differences between the outsiders and insiders. Soon, the overwhelming and mutual feeling of nervousness dissipates. Instead, engaged individuals work together, break a sweat together, and traverse the boundaries of culturally defined spaces of prison and theatre. Pileggi applies actor training holistically and his point of departure is in putting participants in action. Through receptive physical effort, self-discipline, and being here and now, the ability to work as an ensemble is gradually unlocked. Apparently, ‘immiscible worlds of theatre and prison’ [6] overlap through the negotiation of the two conventions. This negotiation is capably facilitated and channelled in Pileggi’s proposal to reverse the roles: the prisoners will lead parts of the workshop and us, the theatre-makers and participants, will follow. This simple measure unlocks the possibility for both the prisoners and the participants to re-inscribe and re-imagine ways of being in the world. Nevertheless, it takes a considerable amount of mutual effort and trust, built over the years of training, not to mention the abyss of the administrative work, to arrive at the point of such a workshop where the process of theatre-making enables profound insight.