When experiencing a theatrical performance, our collective focus is primarily on the stage. As we sit in our slightly uncomfortable seats staring forward at the curtain, we wait for the lights to dim and then for the curtain to rise. It’s at this transition that we believe the performance begins. However, upon closer inspection we can see that the rising of the curtain isn’t the beginning, but only a milestone of the performance. While the actions of the performers on stage have typically been prioritized in our perception and understanding of the theater, these actions and movements are only one of three performances happening concurrently. The first performance, graceful and elegant, precise while appearing effortless, is that of the fluid movements of the actors and performers through the theater space. While also being precise and elegant in its own way, this second performance is far from graceful. Comprised of a vast array of moving pieces, assembled to the best of their ability in a limited amount of time, the second performance is the chaotic and meticulous movements of the infrastructure of the theater. Directed by the stagehands, this performance creates the framework for the performance on stage. The final performance is the one that the audience willingly participates in without ever realizing it. The careful circulation and movements of the crowd from entry, to lobby, to performance, etc shapes not only their experience of the theater, but the function of a large portion of the theater. As the tides of people shift from space to space, opportunities are created for them to behold not only their role in the theater, but the roles of the infrastructure, etc.

Anatomy of a Theater takes on these three different performances to explore the potential for a new architectural theater typology, one in which these performances are brought forth in equal manners in an effort for the audience to witness and understand the full experience of the theater.