“Of Color Theory and Cephalopods”
Sarah Marsh Krauter, PhD
Company Dramaturg
Bike City Theatre Company
Watching a giant pacific octopus splayed against the glass surface of its aquarium habitat, a soft reddish orange skin that I swear looks like layers of Fortuny-like silk chiffon, I’m not thinking much beyond the beauty and wonder of the creature. It is an object to be gazed upon, in an environment designed for visual engagement. But when it flashes, skin shifting in an instant to a shocking bone white, there is no mistaking the quiet gasp of shock that ripples through the patrons, or the toddler stepping away from the glass. It still looks chiffon-like, flowing and rippling, but we are caught in the gaze of its skin. That flash change, for me, is not about the why (that’s the business of the octopus and marine biologists) but about my immediate recognition that the glass works both ways. The cephalopod is watching us watching them, and determining their response based on feedback. A specialist would explain why the creature responds in certain situations but what I see is a masterful use of color to manipulate the audience as competently as any costume designer. Warm reddish orange and soft, flowing texture, you are the femme fatale signaling allure and passion and come hither with a quiet seduction. Or perhaps a devil (devil-fish is a colloquial name for the species) something heated, bloody and vile. Maybe even a throb of fertility, but all vibrant and alive. But white—that white of ash with a tinge of grey like a skeleton of coral denuded by exposure—it’s not the white of purity. It’s the white of absence, of death. Bone white against the vibrant backdrop of the naturalistically styled habitat means the octopus created their own spotlight in a flash of skin.
But what does the giant pacific octopus, captured annually for a breeding program by a Pacific Northwest aquarium know about staging? For that matter, what does color mean in the perpetual gloom on the ocean floor?
I am bewitched by the theoretical possibilities of octopus and cuttlefish. Their dynamic, chromophoric skins allow them conscious camouflage. They echo performers, ever aware of the gaze of the audience. Or they are more director-scenographer, staging and directing the gaze of their audience. Perhaps the Tim Burton of aquatic design, given their fantastical qualities? Or, are they the Brecht of the sea, for surely their labor of survival is visible, both the subject and object of the drama of their existence? To be cognizant of who might be looking, the octopus must maintain a simultaneous outside-in/inside-out perspective on their own performance. A constant vigilance of multiple interpretive planes because when someone is looking to eat, you must distinguish. Which brings to mind another theorist of looking, children’s author and illustrator Mercer Mayer. In Professor Wormbog and the Search for the Zipper-rumpa-Zoo the intrepid explorer travels the world searching for a mysterious creature. He finally climbs the highest peak to look out for his prey, only to have the peak itself look back at him, ending his search. The peak, like the octopus, looks back and we are reminded that from the other side, the audience is onstage.
BIO
Robin I Shane is an Assistant Professor of Theatre in the School of Fine and Performing Arts of Rider University in Lawrenceville, NJ. A proud member of United Scenic Artists, Robin has been a professional costume designer for over 25 years. She has designed in New York, Philadelphia and regionally in such varied theaters as Theatre Exile, Philadelphia Artist’s Collective, EgoPo, Passage Theater), Shakespeare Theater of NJ, The National Constitution Center, The Revision Theater, the Jean Cocteau Repertory Theater, Soho Rep and The Harrisburg Opera. Robin holds an MFA from the Tisch School of the Arts and a BA in Theater and Psychology from Wesleyan University.
Sarah Marsh Krauter is a dramaturg and maker of bespoke educational theater for young audiences in Davis, CA. Her writing and reviews have been published in New England Theatre Journal and The Journal of Dramatic Theatre and Criticism. She holds an MA in Text and Performance from King’s College, London in association with The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art and a BA in Costume Design from San Francisco State University