Ask anyone to define dramaturgy, and you’ll get a lot of very different answers. It’s notoriously hard to pin down, mostly because it shifts depending on the project and the combination of people you have in the room. But since receiving the very welcome news that I was shortlisted for the 2024 Dramaturg’s Network Fellowship, I thought it was about time I was able to define what it is I actually do – after all – it’s a pretty poor dramaturg that can’t express an idea.. right?

Some people say a dramaturg is like a midwife, guiding a project through stages of delivery, making sure everything goes to plan and responding when it doesn’t. Sometimes I describe it like being a personal trainer, helping the creative team stay fit and focused on the work, pushing them to stretch beyond their comfort zone and ensuring they don’t lose sight of their goals. Crucially, a dramaturg is NOT the writer, or the director (well, sometimes they might be – but that’s another story!) but the person on the path beside the writer or director, helping and supporting them in the journey.

A Definition

Merriam Webster defines dramaturgy as: ‘the art or technique of dramatic composition and theatrical representation coming from the German Dramaturgie, from the Greek dramatourgia (‘action of a play’), a combination of dramat-, drama + -ourgia -urgy.

So as this is so open to interpretation – I will have a go at defining it myself. I’m mentoring an emerging dramaturg right now (thanks Emelia for the Beta read!) so maybe something in here can be useful to pick apart or come back to for ideas!

I think of dramaturgy as the exploration of the world of the piece – the background, the text itself, and how that text connects with and sheds light on the world in which we live. The word ‘text’ here is interesting – as it doesn’t have to mean words, but whatever mode of storytelling is being used – language, movement, visuals etc. Similarly, ‘writer’ might mean someone who works with words, or not – some of the creative concepts I’ve been working on recently don’t have any language, and ‘writer’ in that context might mean the designer, choreographer, or Creative Director. There are many ways of writing, and words onto a page is just one.

These are some of the steps I usually find myself taking in my methodology as a dramaturg – these can be explored in any order – it’s not a checklist – and instinct tells me where to go next.

The Container

A key foundation of the approach is helping the creative team to acknowledge the container for the project—a safe space for the story to live, breathe, and evolve. A container provides structure, but it’s not about restricting the creativity – more about holding the process together, so writers and collaborators have room to experiment while keeping the core vision intact.

While we are World Building, we might spend time thinking about rules – both the rules of the approach, and the rules of the World we are setting the story in.

• Do characters address the audience directly? Who is allowed to do that?
• How is the story told? What’s the balance of spoken text, visual information, sung text, dance, audio?
• Whose story is it? What is their journey?
• How is it told and by who? Does everyone discover the information at the same time? Is it chronological? If not, why not?
• If it’s a musical – WHY is it a musical? What is it about it that needs to sing?
• If it’s a musical, do the songs move the story along, or do they exist to provide tone and emotional information?
• Who is going to go first in the writing process? Does songwriting follow scene writing, or the other way round? This one has been especially interesting on some of the big immersive concepts I’ve been working on recently, as the design might go first, and the story might follow. There might be necessity for a certain number of audience members to be admitted per hour, which will affect the artistic approach. One very fun commission I once had was to digest a full 60 page pitch deck of visuals, music, tonal information and costume designs and then write a story synopsis and a character list!

The container might change – but you can’t push against edges until you know they are there, so establishing the container with some parameters is a great early step. Use your restrictions to unlock the creativity – the problem always contains the solution!

What Is It, and How Do the Audience Experience It?

Ideally, everyone on the team would be able to describe the project in a sentence or two, and they’d all agree on the description –

‘It’s a one act sung through musical performed by a small cast of multi-roleing actors.’ ‘It’s a water fountain show set to existing orchestral music which explores the seasons of life as a non-linear visual poem.’ ‘It’s an immersive experience adapted from a novel in which the audience have agency to choose their own path, meeting characters and situations they recognise.’

I often ask writers to come up with loglines – a useful distillation of the entire plot in a few sentences. It helps so much to see it in short form.

Core – Protagonist and Purpose

We talk endlessly in my musical theatre projects about ‘What it’s ABOUT-about’ – not the plot, but the deeper underlying point of the piece. It doesn’t need to be didactic or messagey – and it’s different to ‘What are the Themes’.

So, Fiddler on the Roof is about a Jewish Milkman and his family, but it’s ABOUT-about traditions changing. Hamilton is about the life of Alexander Hamilton, but it’s ABOUT-about legacy and narrative. Lightning Boy is about young Zeus, Hades and Poseidon, but it’s ABOUT-about leadership. Legally Blonde is about Elle at Harvard, but it’s ABOUT-about being yourself.

Once the spine is straight, it’s easier to know what needs to be in, and what needs to be out. In a musical, even in the moments when the central character isn’t on stage, the action should be somehow contributing to the core purpose and the audience’s understanding of the world and the central question.

Aligning, not Fixing

There’s often a misconception that dramaturgy is about ‘fixing’ a piece or getting the big red pen out. Of course it’s possible if the brief really is ‘make it half an hour shorter’ – I can edit ANYTHING – but unless I’m asked directly, I believe it’s not my job to step in with solutions or tell people what’s wrong. I’m there to support the writer to lead their own process by asking the big, essential questions—the kind that help collaborators realign with their intentions. It’s about facilitating a creative conversation, making sure that every element, from character arcs to visual information, aligns with the story’s core purpose. The questions aren’t to find faults, but uncover new layers – and the writer makes the decisions, always.

It’s easy for projects to move away from their original intentions as the creative process unfolds. My job is to remind writers what they set out to do in the first place, and to work with them as they change their minds – holding information and possibilities for them. Reminding them of what they said yesterday and asking them whether this is still the energy that makes the piece vibrate. Realigning and reflecting back as things develop.

Supporting The Creative Process

A good dramaturg is an optimist. Someone who can see two versions of reality – the chaos of what it is now, and the possibility of what it can be in the future. The special sauce is in staying connected with the bigger, future picture, and helping the writers and director to do the same. As (variously) cheerleader, therapist, bootcamp coach, external hard drive, friend.

I sometimes say we can think of the creative process as building sandcastles. Before we can shape anything, we first need to fill the sandpit. That’s what a first draft is—not perfect, but essential. The sandpit is what you throw all your ideas into before you start to shape them into something beautiful. One early step in the process should be to ensure that when it’s time to build the sandcastle, we have all the sand that we need!

Moving through drafts is fascinating. I find that it doesn’t matter what order we work in – many writers like to work chronologically, but it’s equally interesting to start in the middle. My brain has that Google Doc function that remembers all the versions so as things move around I’m constantly reordering the information flow and keeping track of the audience experience. It’s often true that there are some moments you can’t pin down until you’ve worked out what happens afterwards. Keep it messy – don’t try and get it right first time. Write from the heart until you have the pieces and then refine.

People Whispering  

All of this development is guided by an instinct about people. It’s essential to know when you can put your foot on the gas, or when writers need a break. When to suggest they stop editing Act One and look ahead to Act Two. When to insist they leave the computer alone and go for a walk with a notebook and pen for a refresher! When you need to get the post it notes out and go right back to the structural work up on the wall.

Research and Inspiration

I find it useful to have a knowledge of the canon, and will often reference previous works – there are some amazing books about story structure, musical theatre, form and philosophy. Drama Online is an amazing resource if you want to be academically immersed – but I’d also say that it’s not essential to know everything, it’s more important to be inspired and connected to the world.

I collect ideas as we go: visuals, playlists, information, factual research, art, literature, photographs – inspiration comes from everywhere and if you’re making theatre, it’s essential to go beyond theatre in how you think about it. I love Pinterest and Spotify for collecting these scrapbooks and often will ask writers ‘if this was a painting, what would it be?’ ‘What’s the musical energy of this scene – find a song that has the right vibe.’ We might move to the music and THEN go back to writing the scene. Like everyone, sometimes the best thing you can do is stop thinking about it and find a new way to experience it!

Feedback

This is my Hyde Park Corner soapbox subject. I have worked with so many writers who’ve been damaged by thoughtless feedback and the ONE thing that is more essential to get right than anything else in the world of dramaturgy is HOW TO GIVE NOTES. I even wrote it in capitals, look.

I’m inspired by the Liz Lerman Critical Response Process which breaks feedback down into steps. I’ve copied the following from the website – I’d really encourage you to have a good poke around and see it working in practice.

What I love about this method is that it’s safe for the Writer/ Artist – if followed correctly, it centres them and the work, and no one will be forcing opinions on them.

It’s so important to be careful about giving notes. Opinions will vary so wildly and if a writer is in a vulnerable moment, a negative response can be really damaging. It’s also easy to hear one opinion as something global, so be really specific about what you’re saying. Maybe write it down first so you are really clear about what you’re saying! As a simple switch, try focusing on what works and what is exciting as a way into conversation. Give the writer agency to jump on the feedback and get into motion, rather than presenting all the problems. Check if they have capacity first. Be thoughtful.

Keeping the Audience at the Heart of Everything

The audience is always at the centre of the work. Whether I’m working on a play, a musical, or a large-scale immersive experience, I’m always thinking about the audience’s journey. What’s the invitation? What are they feeling at this moment? How are they experiencing the story? Are they engaged, moved, or surprised? What information is being revealed? The answers to those questions shape everything and as we work through the creative details, the emotional and narrative journey for the audience must remain intact in a cohesive world where everything is connected.

Final Thoughts..

So why IS it so hard to reach a definition?

I think there’s something inherently academic about the idea of dramaturgy. It has roots in history and research – but maybe one of the reasons we can’t define it is because it’s easy to think of it as something that is get-wrong-able – when actually, it’s deeply practical? It’s a thing that so many people do instinctively already as part of their practice.

It’s also tough to pin down because it’s an exceptionally human art form which is endlessly affected by the combination of people who are in the room, and by how they feel about the world on any given day.

But today, I’m writing the job description as this –

Champion and supporter of the piece and the writers

Maker-senser of the World we are playing within and (light touch) holder of the rules

Viewer of the big picture, with the communication skills to zoom everyone else out to it when needed

Pursuer of improvements throughout the creative process

Advocate for the Audience

Let’s work with this and see how we feel about it.. Let me know what you think!

Thanks to the Dramaturg’s Network for giving me this push to work out these thoughts, and congratulations to my co-shortlistee’s Rio Matchett, Fatima Serghini, Stephen Bailey, Pamela Ferrugia, and the Fellowship recipient, Flo Dessau – I look forward to meeting you all in November and comparing notes.