The special relationship between the subjects of Drama and English in the secondary curriculum is explored here by Malcom Lomax, with a focus on the analysis of plays. Highlighting that many English teachers crave more opportunities to experiment with creative approaches, he suggests that NATE’s creativity agenda provides a golden opportunity to promote collaborative, drama-inflected ways of working in English.
Drama: a vibrant, productive learning opportunity
A Drama teacher friend of mine recently complained that she could find no members of school staff who would be willing to provide cover for her lessons. Drama, a subject that isn’t even given a place of its own on the National Curriculum, somehow had the power to engender feelings of trepidation, anxiety, and unease amongst experienced teachers of other subjects.
Why might this be? If you observe the average Drama lesson, what is immediately apparent is that it is not like other lessons. There are no desks, there may not even be a power point, there is activity, there is noise, and occasionally, apparent chaos, but for those in the know, this is actually the exciting sound of active learning. In this case, a lively and boisterous class offers productive, exciting and vibrant learning opportunities.
Drama, as a discipline, takes the words off the page and asks students to embody and explore ideas, motivations, dreams, and desires. It examines both the world that informed and created the text as well as the ideas inherent in the text in a dynamic and urgent way. This rich, energetic learning opportunity can be of immense usefulness to English teachers, in the first instance bringing the text and the world of the text to life. It can make children care about the literature by making them part of the literature.
Entering the world of the text
In my experience, children like drama. This is not the same as saying children like performing; many of them don’t. Many are not natural extroverts. Furthermore, the pandemic is still making its presence felt with regards to social behaviour, resulting in increased self-consciousness. What I mean by the phrase, ‘children like drama’ is that children enjoy the learning experience as it is offered in Drama. This learning experience is immediately applicable to the English classroom, centring as it does, not on performance, but on interpretation and exploration. It catapults children directly into the world of the text and insists they make sense of it, but, crucially, does so in a structured and supportive way.
‘Drama catapults children directly into the world of the text and insists they make sense of it. This rich, energetic learning opportunity can be immensely useful to English teachers.’
Drama is unapologetically learner-centred. Learning in Drama is rooted in problem-solving. It demands creativity, evaluation, and analysis. It is less concerned with the regurgitation of knowledge and more with the application of ideas and the synthesis of imaginative experience. Furthermore, and at the risk of sounding obvious, it provides the ideal approach to studying plays.
Engaging with Shakespeare
Drama’s status as a subject in schools, as the unruly little sister of the more patrician and trustworthy English, belies its usefulness to teachers of all subjects, but especially English. The study of Shakespeare forms part of the mandatory English curriculum for all Key Stage 3 and 4 students. As such many children first encounter his plays from behind a desk, puzzling over what various archaic words might mean. The mere existence of these texts may fill them with a sense of confusion.
Shakespeare, of course, did not write literature. He was a grubby, messy, working playwright who was largely concerned with making money and pleasing audiences. Maybe this latter aspect accounts for impenetrable contemporary references (ever the recourse of the footnote), more than a smattering of casual racism and sexism, and a seemingly endless supply of knob gags. Give the people what they want!
It is worth remembering, though, that these people were largely illiterate, predominantly uneducated, yet energetically engaged with the words of Shakespeare via hearing them said and seeing them acted. If students don’t understand every word, no matter: the contemporary audience didn’t. What they did have, however, was the means of appreciating the spectacle for what it was, a good afternoon’s entertainment.
This is not to deny the notion that Shakespeare is great literature, but rather to argue that approaching it as such does it no favours.
Shakespeare’s playground of possibilities
English teachers would not dispute that Shakespeare’s language works best on stage. However, they would also not dispute the administrative, practical, and fiscal nightmare of taking a school party to the theatre. Presupposing, of course, that there is a production nearby, which in these days of scathing arts cuts is, sadly, ever rarer. The school trip to the theatre is, alas, a learning luxury.
Even without the undoubted learning bonus of theatre visits, however, we should still approach dramatic literature as a text rooted in performance. All literature represents a playground of possibilities, a crucible of opinions. Why does Lady Macbeth act in the way she does? Why does Romeo celebrate his wedding night by murdering someone? Objectively speaking, we just don’t know. Maybe it is time for us as educators to let go of the reins of certainty and fully embrace the unknown.
Literature in general and plays in particular have little to do with facts. They are complex, shape-shifting entities that are designed to be explored. Actors and directors talk about putting a play ‘on its feet’. In other words, the best way to explore the world of the play is to inhabit the world of the play. They provide multiple interpretations, multiple meanings, by going in deep. You want to know why Lady Macbeth or Romeo do what they do? Become Lady Macbeth or Romeo.
The words on the page only provide part of the story. The script of Romeo and Juliet has more in common with a recipe or a printed music score. In those instances, we use and interpret printed words and symbols to produce a delicious meal or a piece of music. However, just as there is no definitive Beethoven’s Fifth or Shepherd’s Pie, there is no definitive Romeo and Juliet. It is never merely a case of following instructions.
In the case of theatre, the space between the words is as important as the words themselves. The interpretation, emphases, volume, pauses, accent, characterisation, staging, proxemics, gestures all contribute to the final meaning, and that’s before we even consider design, costume, lighting, furniture, audience reaction … the list is almost endless. Furthermore, if we were to choose to set Romeo and Juliet, say, during the miners’ strike, then we have a play written in the 1590s, set in the 1980s, viewed with the sensibilities of the 2020s.
Creativity leaps off the page
I recently observed a Year 7 Drama class exploring a text. As it was a Drama class, they were almost instantly up on their feet, approaching the dialogue as actors. In a rapid instance of creative osmosis, their voices became the voices of the characters. There were twelve versions of each character and each one of them was different. In some cases, those differences were subtle, in others, more profound. Each child, however, was engaged in the creative process of bringing to life the words on a page. They were developing meaning, insight and understanding. They were almost by accident participating in textual analysis, bringing insight to bear on both character and situation. Furthermore, when questioned they could justify character decisions and viewpoints, values, and beliefs, and argue as to how these facets came to bear on the action and outcome of the play.
They had arrived at this sophisticated act of interpretation via the use of drama and drama techniques, and not by sitting behind a desk, staring at some words on a page. Furthermore, although this was a Drama class, there was no activity that couldn’t be replicated with an English class. In many ways the activities perfectly mirrored what would be happening during the study of literature in an English classroom, but the approach was a practical one and as such it was more involving, and the children were immediately engaged.
‘Each child was engaged in the creative process of bringing to life the words on a page. They were developing meaning and understanding, and participating in textual analysis, bringing insight to bear on both character and situation. When questioned, they could justify character decisions and viewpoints, values, and beliefs.’
One response to a 2019 NATE survey, which posed the question ‘If you could change one element of KS3 [English], what would it be?’ had an explicitly pertinent response, ‘More drama crossover’. Many other responses hinted at a drama-adjacent approach, employing terms such as creativity, enjoyment, more oracy, building confidence, and fun. Reading the survey responses, the word ‘creativity’ leaps off the page precisely because of the sheer frequency with which it is used. Furthermore, the use of drama in the English classroom embodies just the sort of principle NATE is and should be encouraging ‘the development of self-understanding, empathy, collaboration, creativity, independence, imagination and resilience …’(NATE 2020, p.14).
Shared experiences and experimentation
It is not just the act of doing that lifts textual analysis in drama, it is the act of doing together. Drama and theatre are shared experiences. Working as a group aids confidence when interpreting classic or difficult texts. One of the strengths in drama is that it approaches texts collaboratively. As a pedagogical approach this is both liberating and beneficial, supportive, and insightful. It is a mode of real-world learning so productive, you wonder why it isn’t more widely employed in school settings.
In Drama we think of ‘trying things out’ as a method of experimentation. In the rehearsal room you will often hear the phrase, ‘try it, if it doesn’t work, try something else’. It is a phrase that gives children (and actors and directors) permission to fail, but crucially does not demonise that failure, for it is a necessary steppingstone on the route to success.
The right to fail was almost a mantra during the most productive time at London’s Royal Court Theatre. As a result of this freedom, we saw seminal works produced by writers such as John Osborne, Edward Bond, Caryl Churchill, Samuel Beckett, Andrea Dunbar, and Timberlake Wertenbaker. Writers who all at some time or other have been subsequently studied as literature. Not one piece of worthwhile art has ever been produced by getting everything right first time. Yet increasingly we measure children’s success in terms of final achievement. The summative product is all.
Central to drama’s ethos is the acknowledgement that the process of creation and artistic interpretation is just that, a process. As such, it takes time and goes through several manifestations, not all of them wholly successful. This is the basis of every theatrical rehearsal, a constant, ongoing process of experimentation and refinement. Children willingly and enthusiastically participate in this process, because not only are the stakes relatively low and the rewards potentially high, but also they can seize ownership. There is a sense that their voices, their opinions matter, and therefore in this melting pot of creativity much learning is generated.
‘Every time we are presented with a play for study, we, as teachers, should embark on this creative and inclusive voyage of discovery. Using the techniques of drama, we can approach texts afresh, draw both input and insight from our students, and not just rely on a timeline and a printout of a bloody dagger.’
Seizing imaginative opportunities
I am privileged to be involved in educating the next generation of Drama teachers. As part of the process each year my trainee teachers run a session in which they introduce ways of approaching texts via drama techniques to trainee English teachers. This year had them looking at Victorian novels via the application of the conscience corridor. This is a technique that explores various choices characters may make and the different facets of their motivation when faced with a specific dilemma.
One student, representing the central character, moves slowly down between two rows of people, being exposed to all the nuances of argument that exist both internal and external. Hence, the students comprising the conscience corridor may voice advice, warnings, fears, beliefs, or concerns. They may draw directly on lines from the text or improvise their own arguments. The technique places students in empathy with their characters. They explore the emotional heart of both a novel or a play and of the characters within it.
English trainees, soon to be the next generation of English teachers, invariably seize the imaginative opportunities offered and almost immediately begin to think about applying similar techniques in their teaching. I hope they will continue to do so long into their careers. As the unwelcome spectre of homogenised education looms ever nearer and children increasingly are voting with their feet, this seems more vital than ever.
Young people now more than ever need the confidence to speak and think, to make their voices heard, both in life and in learning. Group work utilising drama methods both facilitates and models this. For if we have generations of school pupils being taught English literature (and not just plays!) via the medium of drama then we will have generations of pupils actively engaging with and caring about literature, taking ownership of their own learning, and offering the kind of creative analysis that will mutually benefit both themselves and the texts they are studying.
Further Reading
NATE. (2020). KS3 English in England: A NATE Position Paper. NATE, 22, pp.14–16.
Shindler, D. (2020). In Search: Reimagining What it Means to be a Teacher. Grosvenor House.